by Susan Laine
“HEY, BAE. Still with me?”
Sam awoke with a start. Marcus had roused him from unconsciousness or sleep; Sam couldn’t tell which. Every part of his body, inside and out, hurt like a motherfucker.
“Marcus? You okay?”
With a sarcastic harrumph, he answered, “Super. You? Heard you scream when we….”
Wincing, Sam pulled himself up into a sitting position. The back of his leg hurt and his jeans were torn. His fingertips came away red-smeared with drying blood when he touched his leg through the tear. The razzie’s slap hadn’t ripped his whole leg off, thankfully, merely left three gashes that looked and felt superficial.
“I’ll live. A quick bandage job and a tetanus shot will probably do the trick. How’s your side?”
“The bleeding’s stopped. So I guess I’ll be fine too.” Marcus looked around. His smile was genuine and relieved. “Ah, home sweet home.”
Sam scanned his surroundings and recognized the ruined chamber they had left behind a mere few days ago. “Oh my God. I never thought I’d be this happy to see this place again.” With a deep, gratified sigh, he took stock of their situation. “Can you walk? We need to get out of here.”
Marcus pushed himself up with one hand until he stood, rocking in place as though he were about to collapse at any time. “Well, I ain’t fucking staying here for another minute, if that’s what you mean.” He glanced at the chamber. “Man, whoever built this hellhole should really mark those fucking exits.”
Sam burst into hysterical laughter that went on till his stomach hurt. When the buzz of adrenaline faded, he noted that though the chamber was warm, it wasn’t in the tropics. And the broken edge of the floor above had snow and ice buildup, with flimsy flakes falling in slow motion, like a dream made manifest.
“We’re really back home.” He opened the backpack Marcus had placed on the floor, dug out their winter coats, handed Marcus his, and put on his own. “How long have we been gone? Best guess.”
Marcus frowned, seemingly lost in calculations. “Can’t say for certain how much time has passed, but since that moon’s days and nights lasted roughly six hours, then… thirty hours or so? If we’re lucky, it’s not long enough to get our folks all worked up and—”
“Fat chance,” Sam cut in sarcastically. “My parents have absolutely called the cops by now. I’ve never not slept in my own bed.”
“What? No sexy sleepovers or sultry slumber parties?” Marcus teased as he made his way to the platform, likely to assess the possibility of climbing up.
Sam snorted. “Yeah right, ’cause guys do that all the time.”
A faint rattling sound gave them a second’s warning before a spark shower lit up the dim room.
By the metal chair, a distorted electric blue image began to form. Due to the warp of the projection, it was hard to discern what sort of being was displayed. Calling it vaguely humanoid wasn’t a huge stretch, but describing it as human certainly was.
Sam had seen enough videos of three-dimensional holographic images to tell what it was. After all, that was the technology of the future, coming to life before his very eyes.
A voice began to speak but the words made no sense to Sam. It sounded like gibberish or a broken recording, static affecting the quality.
“It sounds… feminine,” Sam murmured. “But the message’s all garbled and messed up. Maybe it has cracked over time?”
Marcus gave him an odd look. “I understand it just fine. It sounds like English.”
“Not to me.” So the effects of the metal chair still worked on Marcus even after they had returned from their trek to an alien world. “What’s it saying?” he asked, still curious in spite of everything that had happened to them.
Marcus listened, his head tilted, his gaze focused. “The message repeats in a loop. She says…, ‘Welcome back to the auxiliary hub of Inter-Dimensional Expeditions. IDX is a full-service provider to all galactic travelers and planes walkers. IDX allows exploration of countless worlds in countless universes with the aid of our unique safety features and—’”
“What freaking safety features?” Sam interjected in vexation. “The first, last, and only place we visited had a broken portal and no repair instructions. That blows.” He harrumphed to get his feelings sorted. “Is that the whole message?”
“No, there’s more.” Marcus waited briefly, his head cocked as he focused hard. “She goes on to say…, ‘IDX, your safe port of call, catering to all your interplanetary, intergalactic, and interdimensional needs. IDX, experience firsthand our revolutionary portal technology and discover for yourself a multiverse of endless wonder. IDX, to take you where you want to go.’”
Sam wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. “So… it’s an alien infomercial.”
Marcus chuckled but then winced and pressed a hand over his wounded side. “Sure sounds like it.”
Sam frowned. “She did say ‘welcome back,’ so the system at least partially recognizes that we’re the same people who left a few days ago and have now returned. An automated welcome-home note. Charming.”
“I detect sarcasm.” Marcus’s grin was irreverent and catching, and Sam smiled back. “In any case, now the loop’s started again. Let’s find a way out of here, shall we?”
Last time they’d been in the dimly lit chamber, there had been no exit signs or alternate entrances, and the raised platform that had crumbled beneath them was out of reach. That situation hadn’t changed—until the hologram spoke again. This time Marcus stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the projection wide-eyed.
“What?” Sam asked, the old black magic of fear raising its head again.
“The message has changed.” Marcus frowned, but soon his furrowed forehead smoothed. “She’s asking us if we wish to travel again or if we want to take a break and leave IDX.”
Sam almost broke his ankles jumping up and down in excitement at the possibility that they might soon be free from their ordeal. “Oh my God. Can we reply?”
Marcus shrugged. Then he said out loud, “We want to leave IDX, please.”
The hologram stuttered and contorted until it finally flashed and disappeared. Silence reigned in the dark chamber again.
“Was that a yes or a no?” Sam asked in alarm.
A deep grinding sound echoed in the room, like giant stones rubbing against each other, but the sound soon ceased.
A doorway opened before them, having blended into the wall so seamlessly that it had been virtually invisible. The door slid open with a soft shush that seemed loud after the noise within the walls ended. Above the oval opening, a red button blinked on.
“It doesn’t have arrows or say Exit, but it’s as good as, right?” Sam commented.
Marcus nodded. “At this point I’m ready to take a leap of faith.”
He stepped through the arched doorway. Above, bluish lights flickered on, revealing a winding staircase of metallic steps going up.
Marcus whooped. “Yeah, I think we’ve got it. C’mon.”
He took Sam’s hand in his own and started up the stairs. Their footsteps came off loud and clunky as the metal structure compounded the sounds, giving the place an unpleasant haunted-house vibe neither of them felt comfortable with after everything they’d been through.
The spiral staircase wasn’t long, perhaps one or two floors. When they reached a new doorway, they realized it had taken them to the uppermost level where Marcus had fallen. They could see the round hatch over their heads, falling snow and a darkening sky above.
Cold air breezed through the opening, and the boys shivered. Their jeans and boots were wet from the storm on the island in a galaxy or universe far, far away, so they were both aware they needed to get home to dry warmth as soon as possible.
“I’m gonna climb out first and then pull you out, okay?” Marcus suggested.
Sam was down with that plan. Marcus was stronger, but he was also badly hurt, so Sam could give him a push from below. “’Kay. Hurry up. I’m freezing my nuts of
f.”
Marcus chuckled even as he pressed his side and winced. “Better not. I’ve got big plans for them in the near future.”
Sam blushed, more than pleased Marcus wanted him so much. He prayed that situation wouldn’t change just because they weren’t all alone in the world anymore.
Marcus stepped on tree roots to get a decent footing, with Sam holding him by the hips so he wouldn’t fall. They both trembled from the winter weather and staggered a bit, but Marcus managed to stay upright long enough to reach the top of the hole, with Sam sort of desperately jostling his backside from below.
With a pained groan, Marcus caught the rim of the hatch and slowly dragged himself up and out until he vanished from sight. Sam waited with bated breath, balancing on the same sturdy tree root and wanting more than anything to go home.
“Marcus?” he hollered tentatively.
“Right here, chipmunk. Haven’t gone anywhere.” Marcus’s face appeared framed by the hole, a mere silhouette against the blackening sky. “Gimme your hands, bae, and jump if you can.”
Sam hesitated, worried the sudden strain might reopen their wounds. But he obeyed Marcus’s order nonetheless. He raised his arms and reached for his companion’s strong hands. Pushing off the root, he gave himself a minor boost, gripped Marcus firmly, and let himself be hoisted to the surface until he could clamber out on his own and drop face-first into a snowbank.
Relief flooding him like a drug, Sam wanted to lie there in the familiar wet cold of ice and snow. But Marcus roused him with a hard grip and tugged Sam onto his feet.
“We can’t stay there, numbnuts, or we’ll freeze to death. Come on. We’ll be home in no time.” Marcus scanned his surroundings and let out a muffled curse. “My backpack’s not here. Someone must’ve found it. Fuck, I hope it was the authorities and not some douchebag thief. I had a perfectly good tablet in there.”
“I’m sure the sheriff’s office has got it,” Sam said wearily. Exhausted, he trudged back to the path, which was already snowed in. No plows out there. “What about the hatch? If we leave it like that, someone else might—”
“Good call.” But when Marcus leaned over the hatch, it closed in front of him, a holographic image of a solid tree trunk appearing over the metal trapdoor. “Guess the creators of that place have thought of everything.”
The dark clouds above sent a soft snowfall onto them as they made their way back to their families, who undoubtedly were worried sick. Sam estimated the time of day at late afternoon or early evening since it was already dusky. That seemed to confirm Marcus’s guess about exactly how long they’d been away, which was roughly thirty hours or so. It had been afternoon when they had fallen down the rabbit hole.
Sam’s house was closest, so they reached it first.
“What are we going to tell them?” Sam asked, slowing his steps as the building came into view. “If we tell them the truth….”
“Yeah, I figured that’d be a problem.” Marcus sighed. “You know my dad’s got that cabin up on the mountain, right?”
“His hunting lodge?”
“Yeah. Let’s say we were there.”
“All this time, and we didn’t so much as call to check in with our folks?”
Marcus waved vaguely at their disheveled, bloody forms. “We got into an accident, of course, and we couldn’t get a signal, but we managed to make our way back nonetheless. Both of us have our phones with their batteries dead, so… yeah, I think they’ll buy that.”
“Unless your dad stopped by the cabin with the police.”
“Nah. I don’t go there with him. Not into hunting. So he thinks I hate the place, and he wouldn’t have suggested looking for me there. Makes it a perfect getaway, then, to take a break from school, the stress and tests, you know? An impromptu idea that just went really horribly awry.”
Sam admitted that was as good a plan as any. It wasn’t like they could tell the truth to either their families or the authorities. They’d get locked up forever in a lunatic asylum. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with. I’m cold and hungry and practically dead on my feet.”
They supported each other as they walked up the driveway to the front door. A knock and a ring later, Sam’s parents opened the door, pulled them both into fierce hugs, and refused to let go. Sam didn’t mind. Soon they were all crying and trying to speak at once, with Marcus providing the fake story of their mountainous ordeal.
Sam was flooded with familiar sensations he didn’t even realize he’d longed for. His mother’s warm plumpness that carried the scent of apples from her shampoo; his father’s cardigan that smelled of books and paper and ink; his home’s foyer with coat racks and a soft light hanging above, casting a loving glow over Sam and his family; the sounds of lively, joyful chatter ringing all around him from the people who meant the world to him, and the distant static of TV.
The next couple of hours were a blur. Later he recalled only flashes. Sam and Marcus hopping into (separate) hot showers, and Sam getting his wounds bandaged while an ambulance was called for Marcus, whose injuries, though sanitized, demanded further treatment in the hospital; both of them dressing in dry, warm clothes, and being unceremoniously dumped onto the couch with cups of hot chocolate and marshmallows; the police and the sheriff’s office stopping by for statements and congratulations on their escape from the elements (ha! Sam couldn’t even say how close to the truth that comment came), with Sam delivering them the details of their fake tale of survival horror; Marcus reuniting with his mother, who proceeded to hug him till he was breathless and blushing, her arrival coinciding with the ambulance coming to take Marcus to the ER.
The feeling of having been missed so much and having missed them back just as much made both boys teary-eyed, grateful, and happy.
The police and the sheriff left while the paramedics readied Marcus for transport, and things started to settle down. Sam’s parents quickly prepared a hot, hearty meal for Sam and packed a doggy bag for Marcus’s mom to take with her to the hospital, because Marcus said he was starving and everyone knew how wretched hospital food was. As the smell of home-cooked food wafted through the air, Sam thought there really was no place like home.
When Marcus was set to leave, Sam embraced him, shaking from the emotions churning uncontrollably within him. Marcus hugged him back with equal fervor, and without words, all was understood between them.
Then Marcus kissed Sam goodbye, in full view of everyone, and Sam’s heart leaped, and his life clicked into place. Thankfully no one broke out in hushed, reproachful murmurs or outright hate speech. Not that Sam had expected that.
“We’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?” Marcus whispered in his ear, and Sam nodded eagerly. “Sleep well, chipmunk. Love you.”
“Love you too.” Sam’s voice cracked, his throat tight, but his heart light.
With a rueful smile and glistening eyes, Marcus waved goodbye and left with the paramedics, with his mom following in their car. Sam stayed in the doorway until he couldn’t see the ambulance anymore, not even the red taillights’ beam in the night. Snow came down calmly, as if washing the slate clean, ending their thrilling adventure in a peaceful mood.
Sam’s parents fussed over him, for the first time in years sitting by his bed, petting his hair and cheeks until he faked falling asleep. Even Simon, who could under normal circumstances be a dick to his little brother, was unusually affectionate, hugging Sam several times over the course of the evening until everyone finally went to sleep in their own beds.
After everything that had happened, Sam had expected to nod off in a blink of an eye. Instead, he stayed awake for a long time, staring up at the familiar ceiling, where lively shadows were cast from the streetlights below.
Years ago, after he’d gotten into stargazing and space, he’d had the ceiling painted to depict the northern night sky in autumn and winter. The constellations and stars everyone should recognize twinkled above him: Orion the Hunter with its canine companions, Canis Major and Canis Minor, and its brighte
st star, Sirius, the dog star. The V-shaped Andromeda and to the right, the Andromeda Galaxy, bright as a star but mysterious like a nebula. And Aquarius, named after a handsome boy whom the king of the gods wanted….
Sam frowned as he pondered where in the visible night sky they might have been. Had they been near Orion or Ursa Major? Had that moon even been in this galaxy, or had they perhaps been in Andromeda, or farther still? Had they even been in the known universe?
Sam had to accept he would most likely never know. Even if they returned to that dim portal chamber, they still might not get any real answers. It seemed to be an automated system created by a people long gone. Or could they still be out there somewhere, traveling the universe, alternate dimensions, or strange planes of existence with the aid of the portals? And what were those magical doorways anyway? Wormholes or space folds or hyperspace conduits? Who knew?
Sam and Marcus had narrowly fled from the hostile jungle. They had almost become permanent fixtures of that alien moon. If tonight had shown Sam anything, it was that his home and family were a solid foundation for him. He’d never felt more cherished, not even when in Marcus’s arms.
Sam sniffed and wiped his wet cheeks and eyes with the backs of hands. He was superemotional, but that was understandable, wasn’t it? He and Marcus could have died, many times over. But they had persevered in spite of almost insurmountable odds. And that meant something.
It meant everything.
Chapter 15
NEXT MORNING, a Saturday thankfully, Sam awoke from a deep sleep that left him groggy to find Simon sitting in a chair by the desk. He said nothing, just smiled. And though Sam was admittedly still bleary-eyed, that gesture didn’t seem nervous or off.
“Hey,” Sam murmured in a hoarse voice, rising enough to lean against the headboard, blinking in the bright sunlight through the shutters. “What’s up?”
Simon was a finer version of the same genes Sam had. His short hair was golden blond and his eyes emerald green, his physique that of an athlete, and his manners those of a gentleman—most of the time anyway. At the moment, though, he looked… at peace.
