Ha!Ha!Ha!

by Steve Beaulieu

  “Eli Zoeller, is it?”

  When Eli didn’t immediately respond, the Tower shoved him.

  “Y—Yes sir.”

  Eli was sure he hadn’t shared his last name with anyone since being in the Mirage.

  “Why are you here?”

  “What?” Eli asked. “Why am I here? I don’t know why I am here. You tell me.” He looked up at the Tower, who glared down at him. “Sir,” he added.

  “My name is Richter. It is my job to know.”

  “To know what?”

  “Yes.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “It is my job to know what, where, why, how, and when. It is my job to know all things.”

  Eli shifted his stance, realizing only now how much pain he was in after the crash. His neck ached as he looked up toward the eyeless man on the platform.

  “Why have I been taken prisoner?”

  Richter laughed. “You are no prisoner, Eli.”

  “Then I can leave?”

  “I didn’t say that either. You are a guest here at the Mirage. This is a place of complete peace and order.”

  “I don’t want to be here. I want to go home. I want to…just…I want to leave.”

  Richter tilted his head as if pondering some great secret. His head snapped up and even though he had no eyes, Eli could tell he was looking directly at the Tower.

  “He has no powers?”

  Tower stayed silent.

  “Why is he here? Why have we risked our sanctuary?”

  The sonic boom that was becoming too familiar to Eli sounded just moments before Salvation descended from the sky to stand next to Richter on the dais.

  “What is this about?”

  Richter leaned over and whispered something into Salvation’s ear.

  “Let him go.”

  “But Sal,” Trower started.

  “Let. Him. Go. We are not villains.”

  Eli’s heart perked up for a beat, but when he remembered all those being kept locked up he soured again.

  “What about all the others?”

  “The others?” Salvation asked.

  “Below. Not all of them are villains. Not all of them are evil. What about Loch Ness?”

  “You are trifling with something you do not understand. Everyone within this complex is capable of doing great evil.”

  Eli felt a burst of indignant righteousness rising up. “Including you?”

  Salvation’s glow radiated. He floated a bit and glided toward Eli.

  “Watch your tongue or I will change my mind.”

  “I’m sorry, Salvation. It’s just—you seem to be sentencing people for crimes they did not commit.”

  “Powered individuals cannot be trusted.”

  “That is apparent,” Eli whispered. He could have kicked himself. If he would just shut up he could go home and everything would go back to normal. But would it? How could he live a normal life knowing that hundreds, if not thousands of potentially innocent people were being held captive for a crime they might commit?

  “Final warning, Eli Zoeller of Philadelphia Pennsylvania.”

  “How did you…?”

  “4532 West Horrace Avenue.”

  “Are you threatening me?” Eli asked.

  “I also know where your parents live. Where your brother, Joshua lives. You will remain silent about this place. I would hate for harm to come to any of them.”

  “This is blackmail!”

  Salvation grabbed Eli and flew upward. As they rose, Eli felt the change of climate from the cool of the Mirage to the blistering heat of the Afghan desert.

  “Keep quiet and you’ll have no reason to worry about a thing,” Salvation said. “The Mirage does not exist. You did not see me, nor anyone else. Is that clear?.”

  Eli hesitated. Salvation let go. He felt the air whipping at him, his stomach lurched.

  “Okaaaaaay!”

  In a breath, Salvation snatched him up again.

  “Good.”

  With that, Eli heard the sonic boom, but felt it this time as well. They were flying at a speed far too fast to gauge. Eli couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t even think and soon, he blacked out.

  • • •

  Eli awoke on a bed—not a comfortable one, but at least there was a pillow under his head. He’d seen the inside of the infirmary only one other time since his assignment outside of Farah started. He sat up and looked around. Things looked very normal.

  He stood and felt the aches and pains he knew was a result of the humvee crash. A medical attendee rushed toward him. You shouldn’t be up and about yet, Mr. Zoeller.

  “What happened?”

  “Your transport crashed,” the woman said as she helped him back into his bed. “You were the only survivor.”

  “Crash? Crashed into what?”

  “We…we don’t know. Whatever it was, it was no longer there when you were found. Lay back, Mr. Zoeller.”

  He didn’t. He stayed upright, sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “So we were attacked?”

  “Quite so, Mr. Zoeller,” said a high-pitched voice from the door way.

  “Trower?” Eli asked.

  The man looked behind him, around him. “Are you speaking to me?”

  “I—I’m sorry, you just…you look like someone else.”

  “Commander Orwell Bronson, I don’t believe we’ve met.” He reached his hand out to shake Eli’s, but Eli didn’t receive it. “It’s okay, son. You must be very shaken up. That was quite a crash.”

  A moan came from the bed next to him. He looked over to see a man—but not a whole man. The bottom half was metal.

  “Winter?” Eli said under his breath.

  “Never feels like winter around here, son.”

  “I just don’t understand. I—I saw Salvation and Trower. I spoke to Doctor Winter.”

  “Eli, those supers haven’t been seen in over a year. I don’t think you’re thinking straight. As I said, you were in quite a crash.”

  “Salvation didn’t save us from the attack earlier today?”

  The commander cocked his head as a puzzled look appeared on his face. “Today? Mr. Zoeller, the attack was last week. You’ve been alone out in that desert for days. You’re lucky you survived at all.”

  Commander Bronson placed one of his huge hands on Eli’s shoulder and helped him lie back in the bed.

  “A week? It was only hours—a day at most.”

  “I’m so sorry, Eli. You must have had some kind of dream. Likely caused by the fever.”

  “It was all so real. So very real. There was a city in the middle of the desert. Well, not really a city, but a compound.”

  “I assure you, Eli. There was nothing out there at the crash site.”

  “Salvation is keeping…” Eli remembered Salvation’s threat. Even if it was a dream, he wasn’t willing to take a chance.

  “Keeping what?” the commander asked.

  “Nothing. I just don’t know what I saw out there.” Eli’s face narrowed.

  “Stranger things have been seen, son. It must have just been a mirage.”

  A Word from Steve Beaulieu

  I hope you enjoyed reading “Prisoner of War” as much as I enjoyed writing it. The story was inspired by the pilot episode of The Inhumans in which a rover bumps into the forcefield surrounding Attilan. I wondered what things would be like if something like that happened here on earth.

  I love writing. I love coloring comics (digitally) and I love putting together these anthologies. You are reading the fourth volume in a (currently) four volume series.

  The first one: It’s A Bird! It’s A Plane! A Superhero Anthology.

  The second one: World Domination A Supervillain Anthology.

  The third one: Collateral Damage A Superhero Anthology.

  If you’d like to let me know what you think of “Prisoner of War” or if you just want to say hello, feel free to email me at stevebeaulieuwrites@gmail.com. If you’d like to find out more about me or r
ead more of my stuff, sign up for my monthly newsletter. I promise not to spam, and I’ll send you free stuff.

  A SHORT WORD FROM THE PRESENTER

  As a pastor, I often get the chance to present things. “I present to you, for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Happily-Married.” Weekly, I do something called presenting the gospel. I present high school and college graduates with Bibles, and new mothers with clothing and diapers for their beautiful new additions. Presenting is a part of my everyday life and I would have it no other way.

  There are two things I love to do (well, there surely are more than that), pastor people and write books. Pastoring is the art of doing life with people. Getting to know and love people, despite their faults, personality differences and idiosyncrasies. When I think about melding those together, the result is short story anthologies. What better way to experience camaraderie with other authors than to work intimately together to create something beautiful to present to the world?

  To be able to give something to humanity is an honor and a privilege. And this collection is no different. It was with great joy and excitement that I have presented to you, the reader, this collection of short stories. I hope that it has enriched your life, made you smile, and made you think.

  If you enjoyed your reading experience, you might also enjoy the other volumes: Superheroes and Vile Villains. While you’re there, I would encourage you to take a moment and review this book on Amazon. If everyone who loved our books and stories left reviews we would find ourselves in a much different boat. Reviews are the lifeblood of a book—they can make or break an author’s career. Even if you didn’t love the stories found within, we still want you to share an honest review.

  Thank you for your time. We all know how valuable it is. May the God of the Universe bless you.

  With Abounding Love,

  Steve Beaulieu

  Would you consider reviewing our collection on Amazon?

  Reviews are vital to the life of a book. A book without reviews is a dead book. The more honest reviews a book earns, the better the chances of it being successful. Even if your review is…less than savory, leave it! We don’t expect that this book will appeal to everyone, just be honest when you write your review and, if you write a critical review, please make it helpful to other readers who might be interested in the collection. This book represents food on the table for authors. It represents artistry and the expression of ideas and ideals. It is our lifeblood and we share it, willingly and excitedly, and we want to know what you think.

  So please, write a review.

  If you loved the book, please spread it around to your friends and on Facebook. Word of mouth is still the best form of advertising and we hope to put a thousand words in your mouth about World Domination.

  You may also want to pick up the rest of th books in the series Superheroes and Vile Villains.