Supernova

by Mia Rodriguez

Chapter 34: Flying Whollopalooza

  “LOOK AT THAT BABY!” the psycho colonel exclaims, gushing. “HAVE YOU EVER SEEN SUCH A BEAUTIFUL SIGHT?”

  The giant tornado, just a few miles down the road, swirls its destruction. It uproots and slams aside anything that’s unfortunate to be in its way. Unreal and surreal at the same time, I have to remind myself I’m not watching a movie. This is for real.

  The worst kind of reality.

  “DON’T YOU FEEL ITS POWER? FLYING WHOLLOPALOOZA! WHAT A RUSH! YEAH!” the colonel yells with glee.

  The private’s eyes are popping out of their sockets. “SIR—”

  “DO YOU KNOW HOW LUCKY YOU ARE, STUPID HEAD, TO BE EXPERIENCING SOMETHING LIKE THIS?!”

  “SIR, WE’VE GOT TO GO THE OTHER WAY!” he blurts, his voice on the verge of a melt down. ”WE’RE RIGHT ON ITS PATH!”

  “DON’T BE SO STUPID! TORNADOES TURN DIRECTIONS ON A DIME. JUST ENJOY IT!”

  “SIR—”

  “DON’T YOU FEEL THE EXHILIRATION? FLYING WHOLLOPALOOZA!”

  “SIR, WE’VE GOT TO GET OUT OF ITS WAY!”

  “FLYING WHOLLOPALOOZA!”

  “SIR, IT’S GOING TO KILL US.”

  “DON’T BE SUCH A STUPID HEAD! NOTHING LIKE IT CAN EVER KILL ME! I’M THE COLONEL!”

  “SIR—“

  “NOW GET MY WEAPON AND WATCH THOSE TWO IN THE BACK!”

  “BUT—”

  “DO IT!”

  Miserably, the private does what he is told to do. Tears now run freely down his face as he guards us with the psycho colonel’s military rifle. The weapon shakes in his unsteady hands. We are in so much trouble! As we get nearer and nearer to the circling cyclone, I emphatically search in my head for what we can do. It’s death for certain at the rate we’re going.

  I’ve got to figure something out.

  In desperation I shut my eyes to see if I can search for a solution in my head. Something has got to occur to me.

  Flash!

  The flash of a vision reverberates through my mind. The view I had of it is as clear as looking through a sparkling window. I know what must be done! It’s risky but at this point there isn’t much of a choice.

  My small optimism deflates when I realize that I can’t tell Royce what we should do. Our mouths are taped shut. Even if they weren’t, the private is keeping a close watch on us and speaking out loud would be out of the question.

  What’ll I do?

  I saw your vision, Madrigal, a male voice states as it goes through my mind.

  Arthur! I exclaim.

  Or you can call me Royce.

  What? I say, immediately throwing my sight to Royce who’s staring intently at me.

  You’re Arthur and not Pet—

  Madrigal, we don’t have time to freak out or talk about this right now. I promise we’ll talk later when we’re safe. We have to act on your vision—it’s our only chance.

  I nod solemnly at Royce, and he nods quietly back. The private is in such a state that he doesn’t notice our exchange. I look ahead to find that my vision is coming true—the tornado Is almost upon us—so close that even the colonel is abruptly slowing down the jeep.

  It’s now or never, I sigh. I make my face contort into absolute fear. It isn’t difficult with the frightening scene evolving in front of me. Grunting through the tape on my mouth, I catch the private’s attention. He automatically turns to the front where I’m looking. As in my vision, having the tornado so close makes him drop the colonel’s weapon, and it hits the ground breaking apart like his own rifle had done.

  “SIR! SIR!”

  “STOP YOUR WHINING! I’M SLOWING DOWN AND MAKING A TURN SOON!”

  I eye Royce, and he eyes me back.

  The time is here.

  Jumping out at the same time, we land on the hard ground. We quickly roll ourselves to a nearby ditch I had seen in my vision.

  I look up to witness the tornado snatching the jeep from the road.

  Up, up it goes!

  The private’s arms are flaying in all directions, and the psycho colonel tries desperately to maneuver the jeep.

  Higher and higher they go.

  Gone.

  We can’t see them anymore. They’ve entered an abyss. And then the tornado does precisely what the psycho colonel said it would do—it turns on a dime moving away from us. We stare after it morbidly fascinated by its power and domination. I literally can’t turn away from the swirling funnel.

  As soon as we can’t see it anymore, we tear the tape off our lips with hands we’re barely able to maneuver because of the rope.

  “That was close!” remarks Royce.

  “Very!” I agree as I grab a piece of glass—remnants of the jeep—and start cutting into his rope. After I finish, he quickly slices through mine. We rub our wrists trying to get the circulation back.

  “I wasn’t sure about getting out alive this time,” I blurt.

  His dark eyes pull me into him. He reaches for my face with both hands and puts his forehead on mine. We stay in that position for a few seconds, gleaming strength from each other. It’s been a horrendous day, but we’ve managed a few miracles.

  We’re alive.

  We’re together.

  Pulling his forehead away, he leaves his hands where they are. He gently brings my face to his until we are breathing the same air and our lips are just a few centimeters away from each other. It doesn’t take long for him to close the gap.

  The second kiss.

  What I had given my all to not think about because . . .

  Because . . .

  Because it takes all my breaths and thoughts away.

  “No!” he blurts with a shaky voice as he pulls away. “We can’t . . . we shouldn’t.”

  “I know,” I return with the same intensity. “We can’t afford to be so into each other.”

  “We still have a long way to go.”

  His comment brings me back to our situation. I inhale an abrupt breath to pinch my senses. Time for reality. Sitting in a muddy ditch, I scan my surroundings. Silence. The wind seems to have left with the tornado.

  “It’s the quiet before the storm,” states Royce.

  “Please don’t read my mind.”

  “Sorry.”

  “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, Royce—or is it Arthur?”

  “I know I owe you the truth, but that conversation will have to wait for later—more extreme weather is coming.”

  He’s right about another storm coming. The sky has remained dark and ominous.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” he announces. “The tornado is still out there.”

  “Where do we go?” I ask.

  A loud thunderclap falls from the sky, electrifying the area. It’s the signal for the wind to continue its unbridled fury again.

  “It’s going to start pouring down any minute. And it’s getting darker with the night about to get here.” he asserts. “Come with me.”

  We bounce out of the ditch, lucky that we hadn’t broken anything with the quick getaway from the jeep. Bumps and bruises are a small price to pay for still being on the ground instead of who knows where like the private and the psycho colonel. I follow Royce, not having a clue of where he’s taking me but trust at this point can’t be in question for either one of us.

  The wind picks up even more, and a few thick rain drops splash on me as we hike through a trail. After a mile or so, Royce stops at a water well. I can’t help but wonder about the strangeness of a well being in the middle of nowhere.

  “This marks the spot,” Royce states. He scans the area as if searching for something. I helplessly stand around not having an idea of what he’s doing.

  “I found it!” he exclaims with a relieved tone, standing over a huge pile of branches.

  “Found what?”

  Instead of answering, he pulls away the branches. Then he taps on the dirt underneath which oddly enough has no grass grow
ing on it. Pulling out a metal pick from his pocket with one hand, he feels the ground for something. To my surprise, he locates a lock previously covered in dirt and promptly opens it with the pick.

  “Are there any other talents you haven’t told me about?” I ask him with a sly smile.

  He chuckles darkly. “Picking a lock isn’t a talent; it’s a necessity.”

  I laugh with him. “Okay.”

  “I wish I didn’t have to do this,” he announces, his tone turning dry.

  “We’ve been forced to do a lot of things we shouldn’t have had to do.”

  “Right,” he says solemnly.

  Thicker drops of water start splashing down. The downpour is around the corner. Royce quickly removes the lock and shoves the dirt away. I gasp when a large, dark, metal square becomes visible. When he yanks the trap door up, I peer inside with unbridled curiosity. I’m disappointed that the hole that is large enough for Royce and me to crawl into is pitch black. Royce, however, isn’t fazed as his fingers search for something in it.

  “Found it!” he announces for the second time.

  ‘What did you find?” I ask again.

  “The lights,” he says simply. I hear a click, and the inside of the opening becomes illuminated.

  Fascinated, I’m able to see that this aperture is really a living quarters. A ladder down leads to an elegant place full of expensive furniture. A million questions pop in my confused mind.

  “I’ll answer your questions later—let’s get in before the rain gets worse,” states Royce.

  “I thought you weren’t going to read my mind without my permission?”

  “I didn’t. Your face is as clear as glass.” He motions for me to go first.

  As I start climbing down the ladder, he follows me after shutting the metal trap door behind him. My steps are careful. Having so many bruises, causing ache and numbness throughout my battered body, I need to be careful not to misstep and fall.

  At the bottom, I stand around in a daze.

  Wow!

  Unbelievable!

  With my mouth wide open, I take in the fluffy, gold-colored rug on the floor and the antique bedroom furniture. An old fashioned, heavy, four poster king-size bed sits in the back while a matching, dark cherry-brown dresser, a vanity and two night tables complement it.

  “What’s this place?” I ask Royce as he gets to the ground.

  He stares around in disbelief too. “I can’t believe it really exists!”

  “What?”

  “Hearing about it is different from actually seeing it.”

  “Hearing about it?”

  “I hate what this place is about,” he grumbles.

  “What are you talking about?” I question, more curious than ever.

  “This is a getaway for one of the top guardians and his mistress.”

  “You’re kidding me,” I blurt, my face scrunched.

  “Nope.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Very.”

  Bile rises to my throat. “People out there live with the bare necessities and sometimes not even that while this idiot has a place like this to cheat on his wife?”

  “Yep.”

  “Despicable.”

  “Yep.”

  “Unforgivable.”

  “Yep.”

  “Those guardians live in the lap of luxury, doing what they want for their selfish reasons and not for the best of the world. We’re nothing but marionettes for them to play their idiotic power games with.”

  “That’s all we are to them,” he agrees, his voice tight with disgust.

  “They rule our lives, telling us nothing but lies to handle us. They manipulate actions, words, and thoughts to control us. In the meantime, people out there are suffering—really suffering!”

  “They don’t care—as long as their agenda is taken care of—that’s all that matters to them.”

  “They’re monsters.”

  “They’re worse than monsters, but more and more people are waking up to the truth. That’s where you come in, Supernova.”

  “That’s where we come in, fellow Freedom Warrior,” I correct.

  “We,” he says, smiling.

  I smile back. “We.”

  Crash!

  A clamorous noise shakes the ceiling.