by Frankie Rose
The inside of Daniel’s ’70s Charger was as pristine as the outside, which was blindingly shiny even in the dark. It smelled masculine, like coal-tar soap and leather. Guy car smells.
Once we’d picked up a bag of my belongings from home, we hit the freeway, and I tumbled headfirst into a numb kind of sleep. After a while, the sound of voices gradually pulled me back toward consciousness.
“She doesn’t know?” Daniel whispered.
“I could hardly tell her everything all at once, could I?”
One of them must have noticed me twitch. They both fell silent, and then Agatha reached through the back to place her hand gently on my shoulder.
“We’re nearly there, kiddo. How are you feeling?”
I told her the truth. “Been better.” I rolled my shoulders, trying to rid myself of a killer case of pins and needles. Their hushed words replayed in my head. What hadn’t they told me? Whatever it was, it was far too late to do anything about it now. Daniel would easily be able to take me down if I tried to escape. He would probably enjoy the opportunity, given the way he continued to stare at me in the mirror with that clenched jaw of his. “Where are we going?” I asked. If I knew that, then at least I could plan which direction to start running in.
“We’re about two hours southeast of LA,” Agatha replied, “way out in the desert. We set up shop here a while back to avoid any unwanted attention.”
Great. The boonies. So much for making a mad dash for home. The urge to start screaming and demanding to be released was almost irresistible. There could be a reasonable explanation, I thought, which was swiftly followed by, Yeah, right. What are the odds your luck’s gonna change at this late stage in the game? Approximately zero.
I gazed out of the window into the inky black but couldn’t make out a great deal: a bare, lonely tree, what looked like abandoned oil drums, discarded and rusting by the side of the road, and not much else in between. We were way out in the scrub. I slumped back against the seat and closed my eyes.
We drove on down the same dirt track for another five minutes, the tires kicking up pale red dust behind the Charger as Daniel sped dangerously fast into the night. Before long he cut the headlights and we rolled along in the dark before coming to a stop.
I squinted but could only just make out the silhouette of two large, imposing shapes up ahead. Daniel bolted as soon as his foot left the gas pedal, leaving us behind, and I pulled myself out of the car, dragging the duffel behind me. It was no use. I couldn’t do it. I had to find out or forfeit my sanity.
“I heard what you said, Agatha. What aren’t you telling me?”
“You did, huh? Thought as much.” Agatha kicked at a small red rock, sending it skittering.
“You’ve gotta forgive me for asking. I’m running kinda low on trust right now.”
“Of course. You would have found out pretty quickly, anyway. We have another guest with us. His name is Aldan. He’s one of the Immortals.”
I squinted at Agatha, like it was my vision playing tricks on me and not my hearing. Because that was the only explanation: I could not have heard her correctly.
“One of the guys who’s trying to kill me?” Surely if they were trying to protect me the last thing they would do was take me right to one of them.
“Before you start panicking, Aldan is with us. We’re probably more with him, actually.” Agatha flashed her teeth in a smile that, in the dark, looked more menacing than reassuring. I glanced up at the looming shadows of the two large buildings ahead of us, not a single light visible from within, and shuddered.
The structures turned out to be impossibly big silos. The closest one was blistered with fading, peeling white paint and pock-marked with rust. On either side of it stood high dunes that would be difficult if not impossible to climb. They were made up of the same dry, red dirt as everything else. There was no vegetation or signs of life out there in the scrub. It sure as hell didn’t look very secure or welcoming from where I was standing. And there was a Reaver inside.
“So… this guy doesn’t want to hurt me?” Maybe being told again would somehow dispel the crawling sensation creeping up my back.
Agatha’s quiet laughter rang out into the dark. She gave me a gentle dig on the arm. She had skipped out on the whole getting to know you thing. She’d also clearly forgotten that I hadn’t exactly been polite to her in the fortune teller’s tent.
“You trusted us enough to come here,” she said. “Just a little more faith and you’ll see for yourself. Aldan’s the sweetest guy you’ll ever meet. And really…he couldn’t hurt you even if he wanted to.”
We made our way slowly around the side of the first silo, me following with my hand on Agatha’s shoulder as a guide. I was completely night-blind. I must have tripped at least eight times. The ground was uneven, countless rocks protruding from the worn path that encircled the perimeter. Thankfully, Agatha was sure-footed and confident. She had clearly walked this path a hundred times before.
The door to the entrance had been removed, and the gaping hole that Agatha disappeared into seemed even blacker than outside. Not wanting to walk into the void, I stood at the edge of the doorway and gulped, perceiving the large empty space ahead of me.
“Come on, kiddo.” Agatha’s voice pricked me through the silence and a small hand reached back and found mine, gently pulling me in. As I stepped forward, a single beam shot up from the ground to illuminate a thin yellow pillar of light. It traveled unbroken in the dusty air until it reached the roof high overhead.
Daniel’s torso emerged from a service hatch in the ground a few feet ahead of us, a flashlight firmly grasped in his right hand. He thrust out his other hand. He wanted me to follow him down into the small hole. The prospect of climbing down into the unknown, even with the promise of the light he was carrying, was not a good one. His look of impatience spurred me on, however, and I swallowed my fear.
Daniel scooted around so I could squeeze by, holding onto my arm as I lowered myself down beside him. My feet dangled in space before they made contact with a metal rung bolted to the side of the tunnel. When I had both feet balanced on the rung, he let go of my arm. I wobbled for a terrifying second before reaching out to find another rung at head height, clasping onto it for dear life.
Once the thundering of my heart slowed to a loud thud in my ears, I could make out the sound of him descending below. I cursed him under my breath and lowered myself, searching with my foot for the next step. I found it and realized they weren’t spaced that far apart. It was easy enough to make my way down one step at a time, but my arms and legs still trembled uncontrollably. Agatha grunted above as she pulled the cover back on the service hatch, then the darkness was ultimate and complete.
…Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four…
My foot hit solid ground. The light from Daniel’s flashlight was out, and the only sound to disturb the silence was Agatha’s hurried descent. The petite woman jumped the last few rungs, the air huffing out of her lungs as she landed with a thud beside me.
“I’m sorry about him.” Agatha found my hand again. I squirmed, not knowing where Daniel was in the pitch black. “We both know this place inside out. We mostly don’t bother with flashlights. He’s being difficult, though. He should have left you the light.”
So he’d already gone ahead. I clenched my teeth. This guy really was a jerk. Agatha moved off, and I held onto her shoulder again, trusting that she wouldn’t walk me into any walls. I closed my eyes, finding that for some reason this gave me a sense of proximity.
“How long have you guys been down here for?” I asked. The claustrophobia was already building in my chest.
“Five years,” Agatha replied. It sounded as if it were the first time she had realized that fact herself. “Five years flies by, I tell ya, kiddo.”
“And how long do you think I’ll have to stay down here?” My heart sank when she didn’t answer right away.
“You can leave whenever you wish,” Agatha said event
ually. “I’d just hate for you to be out there on your own. You’re so much safer here with us.”
This was crazy. Less than two days ago life was as normal as it ever had been since my mom disappeared, and now I was going to be living down a hole for the rest of my days.
Agatha turned sharply to the left. Further on, another left-hand turn was visible, lit by the unmistakable hue of fluorescent strip lights. Ahead lay Aldan. And Daniel. For a second, I almost wished I could stay back in the dark.
“There’s no need to worry,” Agatha reassured me.
I dropped my arm to my side now that I could see well enough, chasing away my cowardice. “I’ll be fine,” I said.
We reached the end of the corridor and followed it around, leading us straight into a vast, open hangar. The ceiling was high, dotted with countless strip lights and the occasional residential light fitting. They had a quirky effect, kind of like hanging a chandelier in a prison.
The place was huge. Daniel was out of his Union coat, propped against a concrete support pillar with his arms folded across his chest. For the first time I could see what he was wearing properly: a loose-fitting grey v-neck t-shirt and a pair of ratty jeans with holes worn below the pockets. He watched as we entered with a strange, intense look on his face. His eyes followed me as I stepped into the room—part workshop, part office, part home.
Directly ahead on the floor, a dismantled car engine lay on a grease-smeared sheet. Tall, fire-engine red tool cabinets stood to either side. Their halves were pulled open to reveal wrenches and spanners in a million different sizes. Behind that was what could only be described as a mechanical graveyard. Lawnmowers, microwaves, computers, an old printing press. Parts lay everywhere. A snake pit of multicolored cables, wound and tangled together in places, covered every inch of the floor close by.
Agatha grunted as she followed my gaze. “He may be a pain in my ass but the guy can fix just about anything. Shame we have nowhere to put any of this crap.”
I walked ahead and hung a left towards a group of four computer desks. They were piled high with stacks of paper and various maps, the only evidence of any computer equipment being the soft hum and occasional flashing light that could be made out beneath the chaos.
The walls were covered with notes and papers, post-its and photos. As I followed behind Agatha, I noted, dismayed, that a number of them were of me.
“Sorry, kiddo,” Agatha said. “We’ve been watching you for a while. I hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”
A particularly unflattering picture of me eating breakfast cereal in my pajamas, mouth half open, hair on end as usual, stood out from all the others. “No, not at all,” I lied, looking up in time to see Daniel hide a wicked smirk. He looked great when he smiled. For a second I was torn between anger at his cruel sense of humor, and how disarming it was when he looked happy. By the time I’d recovered from the unwelcome idea that he was actually very, very attractive, he had regained his stony-faced expression of nonchalance. I glared at him.
“I thought you said you knew where I lived from my insurance card.”
He rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Sue me.”
I had to pass him as I walked by the computer desks towards the rear of the hangar, and the skin of my cheeks prickled as his gaze followed. I looked to the floor, equally embarrassed and annoyed that I should react to him in any way.
On the far side of the hangar, a regular, modern kitchen had been outfitted, and opposite was a lounge area with flat-screen TV, stacks of unopened DVDs and a huge sheepskin rug. I paced over to the kitchen counter, tracing circles on the cold black marble. I pursed my lips, studying the bright red four-seater sofa. “This may seem like a stupid question but how on earth did you get everything down here? That service hatch was three feet wide at best.”
Agatha smiled. “There are other ways in. We just seal them up when we’re not using them.”
“Huh. And so…well, where’s this Aldan guy, then?”
Not knowing might have been better, but the Reaver’s absence was glaringly obvious. Daniel stiffened at my words. Agatha shot him a sidelong glance before answering.
“He’s in his room. He won’t be bothering you. Daniel and I take care of him, so you really don’t need to worry.”
“Take care of him?”
“Aldan’s bed-bound. It’s a complicated story. I think we should leave that for another time,” she said.
Complicated. Was there anything left in the world that wasn’t complicated?
Daniel pushed away from the pillar he’d been leaning against, his arms still folded across his body. “Just don’t bother him, okay,” he snapped. “He’s sick, and he doesn’t need strangers harassing him.”
“Daniel!” Agatha cried, shocked. “Go and see if he needs anything.” Her face took on a hard look. He met her gaze and held it there for a second. She didn’t back down, so he spun on his heel and marched out, the muscles in his back tense with hostility. He’d really perfected the angry walk-away.
“I’m sorry. He’s very protective over Aldan.”
“It’s okay, really…” I was feeling more and more unwelcome by the minute. Hadn’t he just been the one to convince me to go with them?
“He’ll probably be much more amicable after a good night’s sleep. Don’t worry about it.”
I bit my lower lip and fixed my eyes on my feet, wondering what constituted a good night’s sleep around here, given that it was already past five in the morning. Up there somewhere, fifty feet above our heads, the blackness of the night would be lightening to a bruised deep blue as the sun threatened to peek over the horizon, heralding the start of a new morning. Yet down here, there was no way to know whether it was night or day without the benefit of a watch.
“Let’s just get you to your room. I bet you’re asleep on your feet.” Agatha gestured in the direction Daniel had stormed off in. I nodded, fully aware that I looked like a zombie. When we made it back to the entrance of the hangar, Agatha flicked on her flashlight. We walked to the first turning and continued straight ahead down another corridor I hadn’t noticed on the way in. It turned back on itself, and we were faced with two doors to the left, their locations betrayed by a slit of weak light shining out from underneath them.
“The first is Aldan’s room,” Agatha told me, hooking another left as the corridor snaked around again.
There were no lights visible down this length of corridor, but when Agatha raised the flashlight, the beam showed that it stretched on for at least fifteen feet. At that point the light faded and blackness took over.
“I’m just here.” She clanged loudly on the first door. Its deep, metallic echo vibrated off the walls like a drum. “This one’s the bathroom.”
We walked passed another three doors on the same side, one of which must have been Daniel’s, before Agatha halted. She handed me the light so she could rifle in her pocket, eventually producing a large bunch of keys. After flicking through them for some time, she threaded one from the large ring and handed it to me.
“This is the only one, so don’t lose it.” Agatha placed the small silver key in my hand. I slipped it into my pocket, feeling some sense of privacy return with the promise of being able to lock myself away.
“I won’t wake you. Just come on out when you feel like you’ve rested well enough, okay?” With that, Agatha pushed open the door and flicked on the light then strode off, humming some soft, lilting melody. It grew richer as the narrow walls sent it traveling back to me.
I was alone. The darkness closed in and I dashed through the open door of my new room, slamming it shut behind me. The room was nothing like I’d expected it to be. No uncomfortable metal cot. No bucket in the corner. In fact, it looked nothing like a prison cell at all. The walls were the same uniform grey color, although they were brightened by three landscape paintings. They almost made up for the fact that there was no window to allow the daylight in.
In the far corne
r, a huge king-size bed with an elegant, scrolled mahogany headboard was made up with peacock-green silk sheets. To the right of the bed were two fully stocked bookcases. Was it sheer coincidence that I recognized all the authors’ names? Probably, I thought, until I saw the dog-eared copy of Dr. Zhivago slotted in among the horror and crime novels. Mine, I realized, running my finger down the cracked spine.
I pinched the bridge of my nose between my fingers and turned to sink onto the bed, catching sight of a television and a small iPod dock sitting on a shelf at the back wall. A number of CDs were stacked on their sides next to the player. Probably mine too, or by my favorite bands.
Agatha had an eye for detail. Either that or they’d been taking things from my house without me noticing. The first thought was preferable. In any case, these people knew a whole lot about me. And all I knew about them was that Agatha was kind and comforting, and he… he was mean and hostile. And I’d be damned if I could get him out of my head.
