by Cronan, Matt
The monitors on the wall displayed live footage of the children working emphatically on the giant generators. The large metal machines dwarfed them in size, but the children clambered up and down the ladders at breakneck speed. The video feeds cycled through countless sunken faces, bloated bellies and haunted eyes. Slaves of Lost Angel. She would free them all if she had time. But if the creatures outside the door had their way, it might not be an option.
She turned her chair again.
The monitor above the door displayed the group of midnight runners. They remained in their tight huddle. Sam stared at the monsters. They took breath in unison, their hulking bodies rising and falling simultaneously. Two black horns jutted from each giant forehead. They curved out like the horns of a steer and ended in sharpened spikes. Their massive heads pitched and rocked back and forth in rhythmic time with one another.
She turned again.
Screens full of empty rooms and dead bodies.
She rotated in the chair once more, back to her original starting place, and faced the dark screen. The screen that dwarfed all the other screens. Why was this one turned off? What was it hiding?
Sam twirled 180 degrees, and she faced the door. The computer screen had gone blank once more, except for the neon green command prompt. Absently, she let her hands fall to the keyboard and let her fingers gently rest on the faded keys.
She couldn't remember ever using a computer but the positioning of her fingers came natural. The few legible letters on the keyboard were out of order and most were either faded from overuse or still covered in Soto's blood, yet she knew where they all were without looking directly at the device.
The vague feeling of remembrance—muscle memory perhaps—felt strange and the intermittent data that continued to be fed from some unseen encyclopedia in her mind was even stranger.
"Cole," Sam said. She beckoned for her friend to come closer.
The big man brushed a thick strand of purple hair from Alex's face, whispered something to the doctor and then came over to her. "You have a plan, Miss Sam?"
"Not exactly," Sam admitted. "I just wanted to know if anything has changed for you since we've been here."
Cole seemed to contemplate this for a moment and then shook his head. "Naw. Not really. Just a headache I can't seem to shake."
She had forgotten about the device in the back of his head. Chills ran up her spine.
"You care to enlighten us about that, Doc?" Sam asked. "You mind telling my friend why there's some sort of receiver implanted into the back of his skull and a remote control that will wake him from a vegetative state."
Cole's face flushed. "What do you mean?" He rubbed the backside of his head. "What is this?"
Sam ignored him. "Or telling me why I suddenly possess the abilities of a blood-thirsty mercenary?"
"I can answer the questions about your friend," Doc said, "and if you'd like me to postulate a theory about your condition, I can do that as well. But now is not the time."
He looked up from Alex and Sam was almost taken aback by the sad, desperation in his eyes. It seemed he really did mean what he said to the General. That he really did feel like a monster.
"We should be focused on getting out of here as quickly as possible," Doc continued. "This girl needs medical attention and judging by the swelling in your face, so do you."
Sam had forgotten all about her own pain. Her face throbbed dully from the blow to the dining room table. She ran a finger over her busted lip. "What do you suggest?"
The doctor rose from his patient and crossed the room to Sam. She looked up at him and tried her best not to cringe at his deformed face. "My suggestion…" Doc paused, placed a thumb on each side of Sam's nose and then pushed hard.
SNAP.
Sam screamed out as the cartilage was forced back into place. Bright stars filled her vision, and she fought the urge to vomit. The feeling passed after a moment and a sense of relief washed over her.
"My suggestion is we find a way out of here." The doctor examined her face a moment longer and then went back to Alex without another word.
"What were you talking about, Miss Sam?" Cole whispered once Doc was out of earshot. "About me being a vegetable?"
"You know the device I gave you?"
Cole fished the small remote control from his pocket.
"When I found you," Sam said and gently it from his hand, "you were in some sort of catatonic state. I pushed the one in the middle and you just sort of snapped out of it."
Cole thought about this for a long moment and then asked, "What do you think that means?"
"Why don't you ask him?" Sam asked and pointed toward Doc.
Cole nodded and returned to Alex and Doc. After a moment, she heard them whispering amongst each other. Angry whispers. Sam shoved the remote into her pocket and tried to think.
She pushed the murmurings from her mind and focused all of her energy on her fingers. Doc was right. They needed to get out of this room. They needed a plan. One that didn't involve fighting their way through the midnight runners. All she needed was a little help.
Sam. As if on cue, Jordan's voice filled her mind. She couldn't see him but knew he was there—standing beside her. His presence comforted her.
"I'm here," Sam said aloud.
"What's that, Miss Sam?" Cole asked.
She waved a dismissive hand at him. Cole shrugged and resumed his talk with the doctor, his giant hand clasped around Doc's shoulder and the doctor's deformed eyes wide. She closed her eyes and prayed the connection hadn't been broken.
What are you waiting for, Sam? You know what you have to do. The mission is waiting on you. Concordia is waiting on you.
Sam's eyes opened as Jordan's words echoed through her. She typed a word onto the keyboard and the she looked at the screen.
CONCORDIA
The word had become the bane of her existence. It was the reason Jordan had been taken from her. And also the reason she kept breathing. It was her motivation to not give up and let the beasts outside have their dinner. She had to justify Jordan's death. She had to make sure his sacrifice wasn't in vain.
Her right index finger hesitated over the 'Return' button and she held her breath.
"Everything alright, Miss Sam?" Cole asked
Sam didn't answer. Instead, she mashed the button.
Another loud hiss of air filled the room and Sam jumped to her feet. Her breath caught in her lungs and her eyes darted toward the heavy steel door. A second later, Cole appeared at her side with his rifle cocked and aimed. But the door didn't move, and after a moment, Sam managed a breath.
The hissing wasn't coming from the door but rather from behind them. She turned slowly to see the top of the other desk opening. A large square in the center of the desk appeared first. The wood panel lowered and then split down the middle. The two panels retracted inside of the desk and then the hissing paused. When it resumed, an ancient computer monitor emerged from the newly formed hole and rose from the belly of the desk. At the same time, a panel on the front of the desk slid open, and a keyboard popped out. Once the computer had fully emerged, the hissing stopped and silence filled the room. Sam sat down hard in the chair and was face to face with the mysterious monitor.
This computer was much older than the one behind her. Its drab gray color was coated in a thick layer of dust and the screen was curved and thick. On the bottom right hand corner of the monitor was a square button, and beside it, the word: MicroApple.
Sam hit the button and the screen flickered on.
The screen rolled through lines of foreign text and numbers. When they stopped, a chill ran up Sam's spine as she read what was on the screen.
A sentence lined the top of the monitor. Sam's skin erupted in gooseflesh as she read the words aloud, "Concordia Remote Terminal 36."
"Did you say, what I think you did?" Cole asked.
"Concordia," was all that Sam could manage.
Underneath this was another sentence that made even less s
ense. Sam gulped hard and read this one aloud as well, "Copyright 2032 by the MicroApple Corporation."
"2032?" Cole asked.
"The year the virus was released," Sam said.
Judging by the state of the monitor, 2032 had been many, many years ago. Her hands once again rested on the keyboard and she mashed the 'Return' key. The words on the screen disappeared and were replaced by another password prompt. Sam hesitated and then typed in David's name. She held her breath and hit return.
PASSWORD INCORRECT
Sam thought for another moment and then typed Concordia onto the screen. She pressed return again and again the monitor returned:
PASSWORD INCORRECT
She typed a succession of words now, hitting return after each one. First, she tried: 'Lost Angel', and then: 'New Hope.' She tried: 'Infected' and 'Halfways.' She tried the names of each of the two leaders of Lost Angel: 'Soto' and then 'Gates.' Each time the screen returned a simple:
PASSWORD INCORRECT
"Damn it," Sam muttered after the umpteenth attempt.
Cole had joined her beside the monitor but stood silently, not offering any thoughts of his own. She looked up to him, and he shrugged. Sam was on her own. Once again, she closed her eyes and waited for Jordan. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally answered her.
You know what the password is, Jordan said.
"Not this time," Sam answered. "I don't."
Yes, you do.
"But it can't be," Sam said as two words fluttered through her brain. She swallowed hard, and a chill ran up her spine.
Why? Jordan asked.
"Because it just can't."
Why?
"Because it's fucking impossible!" Sam screamed.
Her heart beat furiously inside of her chest and tears stung at her eyes. She forced herself to take a deep breath and then another. The two words that had fluttered through her mind only a few moments before reappeared.
Try it.
"No."
David is the key…and YOU are the light.
"Jordan, I can't…this is crazy."
Try it. For me.
Sam sighed. Jordan knew she wouldn't be able to not type them in now. He knew she would never disgrace the memory of him by refusing his request…even if his request was nothing more than a figment of her imagination. Even if his request was her own.
Sam let her fingers fall back to the keys and when she opened her eyes tears fell out of them. Slowly, her fingers typed the two words as saltwater streamed down her cheeks. By the time she finished, she was sobbing. She hadn't noticed Cole's big hand resting on her shoulder. She looked up at the screen and read the two words:
SAMANTHA ALBRIGHT
She took a breath, wiped her eyes and hit the return key.
PASSWORD ACCEPTED
The sight of it made her want to vomit but the words quickly disappeared. They were replaced by a single word:
CONNECTING
The word was followed by a succession of dots that continued to replicate. First, only a few and then as the seconds ticked by, they filled a quarter of the screen. And then half. By the time they reached the three-quarter mark, Sam's nerves had quelled. And then the monitor on the opposite side of the room flickered on.
The screen didn't immediately illuminate. Instead, the darkness only lightened a bit and stayed that way for a long moment. Somewhere, either being pumped in through the speakers above them, or perhaps on the built-in ones of the monitor…it sounded like a phone was ringing.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the screen exploded with color. On the screen was a man, half naked and covered by the sheets of his bed, the light being emitted from a bedside lamp. He wore a very tired expression on his face. His bleary eyes were bloodshot and his gray hair was disheveled.
The man's eyes were not fully open when he began speaking. "This better be good, Gates. It's fucking Sunday for Christ sakes." His voice was gruff, but much to Sam's dismay, it contained a familiarity that sent chills up her spine.
"Gates is dead," Sam said.
The man's eyes shot open wide, and he stared back at them with an intense fear. The man looked as if he wanted to speak, as if he needed to speak, but couldn't. Sam took this as a cue to continue.
"Gates is dead and so is Soto." She motioned to the floor, not sure if the man could see the General's corpse lying in a pool of blood and feces.
"It can't be," the man on the screen whispered, "it's far too soon." He snatched something off screen, and a moment later, he was speaking rapidly, "We've got a code red at facility 36. I repeat, a code red at 36. Yes, I'm sure." The man looked back at the screen, his face gray, and then added, "I'm looking right at her, sir." The screen went black.
"What do you think that was all about?" Cole asked.
Sam shrugged. Whatever it had been, the man on the screen had been expecting Sam to call, just not so soon. And judging by his reaction, it wasn't some stranger's face that had him all riled up. No. This man knew Sam…and somehow she knew the man.
The monitor beeped and Sam turned her attention to it. The screen now read:
SELF-DESTRUCTION SEQUENCE ACTIVATED
"That's not good, Miss Sam."
"No, Cole," Sam said, "That is not good at all."
There was no countdown timer accompanying the words, so Sam had no way of telling how long they had. Nor did she have any idea what would happen when the unseen timer reached zero. It was possible the computer would fry itself from the inside. It was also possible that the entire underground city of Lost Angel would implode. Either way, she planned on being gone.
Sam plucked Cole's rifle from the floor, pressed the butt of the gun to her shoulder and fixed her aim on the door. They would have to shoot their way out and then back to the upper levels. The odds were far from good, but something from deep inside of Sam assuaged her nerves. Her mind knew what needed to be done.
Sam looked to the monitor above the door. She waited as it cycled through countless views of abandoned hallways before landing on the camera pointed on the outside of their door. She blinked twice to make sure that her eyes weren't deceiving her. The midnight runners were gone. A cold ball of steel formed in Sam's guts.
"You see that, Cole?" Sam asked and nodded to the monitor.
"Those monsters are gone."
"Why?"
"Don't make no sense," Cole said. He knelt down beside the girl and lifted her up with ease. Gently, he swung her body over his shoulder. The girl moaned and then muttered something inaudible.
"What'd she say?" Sam asked.
Alex repeated her words, Doc listening intently beside her. He turned to them and said, "She said we have to get her brother. That Sam promised we would."
Sam's heart sank into her stomach. She had made a promise and now faced with uncertainty she had to make a choice. Her mind flashed to Jordan and to Rebecca, the only family she had since being relocated to New Hope.
Sam looked back to the words on the monitor and then to the screen displaying the empty hallway. They didn't have time to wait while she thought of all the pros and cons of a rescue mission. They would have to seize the opportunity, regardless if the beasts were hiding just out of view of the camera. They would have to go now…deeper into the mines.
10
The craggy passageway was empty just as the monitor had depicted. Sam led the foursome out of the late President's office, the rifle raised and pressed against her shoulder. Cole followed close behind, now cradling Alex's crumpled body as a groom would carry his new bride over the threshold on their wedding night. The doctor brought up the rear and Sam wondered if it was fear or an actual desire to help that drove him to continue. She hoped for the latter as they plunged deeper into the darkness.
They moved silently down the near pitch-black corridor. After a few minutes, the slope of the pathway leveled and then spilled out into a monstrous cave. Jagged stalactites hung ominously from the cavern's ceiling nearly 50 feet above them and moonlight po
ured in from a large opening in the center of the ceiling. It bathed the two stone buildings in the heart of the massive chamber in soft white light.
The buildings were 200 square feet in area and ten feet tall, each with a flattened roof and a wooden door built into the front. A small pathway, barely large enough for a man to walk through, was nestled in-between the edifices. Surrounding the two structures were soldiers, each armed with an assault rifle.
The buildings cast dark shadows over the cavern floor and Sam could barely make out their outlines. She counted a dozen in total but estimated there was at least one of two hidden in the darkness. The room was dead silent except for the soft drone of the generators humming from the depths below.
Sam turned back to the group and silently pointed two fingers at her eyes and then pointed to a spot further along the cavern wall. A hundred yards along the wall, barely visible, was a cropping of stalagmites, just large enough for them to hide behind. Cole and Doc nodded. Without any further cues, Sam turned and slithered out into the darkness toward the barrier.
Sam's skin turned to gooseflesh as she hugged the cool cavern walls. The pants provided some comfort but the sleeveless top of the dress was paper-thin. She longed to be back in the dirty, bleach-spotted coveralls.
"You hear something?"
Sam froze at the sound of the guard's voice. It was only a whisper, but she heard it in stereo. Cole, on the other hand, hadn't and nearly barreled her over. Sam motioned for them to hunker down.
"Nah," another guard said. "Those creepy-crawlers got your panties in a bunch, Xavier?"
An eruption of laughter spread through the group of soldiers.
"Those creepy-crawlers are no joke, man."
Another wave of laughter.
Sam motioned for the group to continue.
When they arrived at the outcropping, Cole gently put the girl down on the rocky ground. The doctor did his penlight routine and Sam got into position so she could see building's entryway. After a moment, Cole joined her.
