“Did he do that thing?” she asks.
“No, not this time. Or, at least not while I was there,” I answer. He and I had a secret signal when he was entertaining the masses. He’d find me in the crowd, cock an eyebrow, twirl, point finger guns at me and wink—very Michael Scott. He knew how much I loved The Office. Now, I cannot believe the nerve. Yuck.
Dagan sits passively observing our exchange. Smart.
“What did he talk about?”
“Well, time-wise, it was a week before the Great Reveal. He was hyping everybody up. Played some new songs at the opening and closing.”
Persephone looks to the ceiling and fakes a yawn.
“I know,” I reply exasperated. “He was telling everyone they should have their roles memorized by now. I don’t think Xane even had one yet. In fact, I’m starting to suspect the Rookie Lighters had very, very little knowledge of his plan. So, he promotes Xane to Middle-circle, telling him he can work with someone on that level to get ready.”
I don’t mention Willow. Seems too personal. Especially knowing that Levi uses people for his gain relentlessly and drops them just as quickly when they’re no longer of use.
“And?” Dagan asks, reminding us of his presence.
“And, that’s it,” I say, a little defeated.
“No,” he’s says positively. “Now we’ve got some specific questions. Ya done good.”
Kid. I finish the sentence in my head. It was a quote from The Office that my brother said to me all the time. Sharp pang. This one is very sharp.
“Kid,” Persephone finishes out loud. “Ya done good, kid.” She is standing in front of me with wide earnest eyes.
“Thank you. Both of you,” I say, turning to Dagan.
“Ow,” a voice garbles.
9
Xane lifts his head and blinks his eyes open repeatedly.
“That sucked,” he says, looking at me violated, as if I just walked in on him naked.
I don’t know what it feels like for the other person. I haven’t had it done to me. However, from my point-of-view, it feels like I’m visiting the corner of your mind. I walk into your head and you know I’m there, but you can’t do anything about it because your reminiscences can’t be changed. It gets worse, because the receiver knows what’s going to happen, whether they like it or not. It’s his own memory and cannot be altered. As far as I know. Levi’s stare flashes through my mind.
“Well, ya know Georgie now,” Xane laughs. I picture him trying to run with shorts around his ankles. I laugh.
“Xane, what was the book?” I ask eagerly.
“The Complete History of Technology,” he replies.
I look at Dagan pointedly. He bows his head. And I think—smirks. I can’t even.
“What was your job?” I ask.
“I had to memorize literature,” he replies.
“History of Technology?” I ask.
“No, something way different.”
I realize how easily he is now answering questions. I know it’s because of Willow. “It was a book about Heaven,” he says. “And not like Darkens' Heaven. It was talking about a new Heaven.”
Darkens study all Theology. Some have been given the gift to communicate with the Spirit World. My entire family has the gift. It can run in bloodlines; although, there are members of other shires who also have it.
“A new Heaven?” I ask.
“Yeah, the thing is, apparently, Levi found a new way to speak to the Spirit World, but it’s different. With the upgraded Framework system, you get to physically go there.”
“Who was given the literature?” Dagan asks.
“Gold Shire was first. That’s all I know. But not everyone—only those selected ‘at this time.’ It seemed as if it was supposed to be given out strategically. I don’t know if we all got the same thing. And that’s it, that’s all I got, nothing about anyone else’s role. Not even…” He trails off, undoubtedly thinking of Willow.
“So why are you out here, Xane?” Dagan asks.
“Good question,” Persephone pipes in.
“Yeah,” I add, deciding to gang-up on him.
“Hey, guys, we’re on the same team, I promise you that. I was gonna transfer out a long time ago but didn’t. I wouldn’t mind leaving now, actually. If all the circumstances were to fit together.”
I know what he means. He can’t leave if Willow doesn’t. “Okay, Xane, maybe we can work together,” I say slowly.
“I came out here immediately after the Great Reveal was supposed to happen. I was told to check the entire area for any sign of Levi. They think he’s hiding out in Crystal. I’m not so sure, myself. The guy’s a magician; one second he’s there, then—poof,” he says, flicking his fingers out. “He’s gone. But gone, gone, you know? With the new Framework, we should be able to locate him instantly. The thing is, he designed it. So, he could easily avoid detection.”
“Okay, Xane, but people can’t just disappear. I don’t care who you are,” Dagan says. “Maybe when the world was bigger before the second Rain, but with today’s advancements, and the decreased size of land, there’s just no way. Even in Crystal. I think we should keep looking for him.” He directs the last part at me.
“Xane, is there any information you may have to give us a jumpstart?” I ask.
“The only information I have is the literature,” he says.
“Do you have it with you?” Persephone asks.
“Yeah, I do,” he says and pulls out a small gold rolled-up book from his left pocket. I’m surprised it’s a paper book. Then again, to avoid technological detection, it’s the best idea.
“We were supposed to memorize the information, then destroy the book. I haven’t memorized it yet,” he says, looking downward, handing it over. Dagan takes it and starts flipping through quickly.
“Are they going to be looking for you?” Persephone asks, appearing on the table, legs dangling over the side. I notice she’s back in her lime green tennis shoes.
“Good question, Seph,” I say, with my eyes on Dagan. He’s back to the beginning of the book reading more carefully.
“Probably. Yeah. Most likely,” Xane says, leaning back in the chair, looking bored again.
“What’s the plan?” I ask Dagan. “We can’t have them coming out here. Who knows what could happen? They’ll want to question us.”
“Did you read the whole thing?” Dagan asks Xane, ignoring me.
“Well, most of it,” Xane replies, looking at the ceiling.
“What does it say?” I ask Dagan.
“I need to read it over more carefully,” he replies. This comment does not surprise me. He seems to be someone very thorough with absorbing and dissecting new information before coming to comprehensive conclusions.
He continues—
“…but it seems like his book is incomplete. It doesn’t include the entirety of the plan. Actually, not even close. It’s extremely vague, lots of propaganda.”
“Xane, when were you supposed to check in?” I ask.
“I don’t know. What time is it?” he asks.
Rain. The sound of rain suddenly fills the entire basement. I think it’s a symptom, but everyone’s faces suggest otherwise. It’s so real, I actually put my hand out to see if I can feel it.
“We’ve got company,” Dagan said. “But that’s the first alarm. Means they’re just about twenty-five miles from the outskirts of the forest.”
“Okay, but I’m sure they have vehicles,” I say nervously.
Main transportation in the Realm is provided by the SkyChariot, a giant futuristic train that runs the length of, and around the entire Realm. Otherwise, people have personal vehicles, both ancient and novel. Ancient ones are not only restored but equipped with modernization. Still, there are a lot of collectors that have been able to keep even the most archaic vehicles in factory condition. Each shire’s preferred mode of transportation depends on their resources and specialties. For example, Shire Turquoise uses boats and many
other modes of aquatic transport, as well as Sandies, which resemble old-world sand buggies. Plus, they’ve got air travel, such as jets and planes. Emerald favors trucks and updated tractors, called Crawlers.
“Yeah, they’ve got Goldsters. Every Inner-circle has one,” Xane replies, still looking bored. I stare at him incredulously. How is he so calm right now?
Goldsters resemble hotrods. Even I have to admit they’re pretty badass. The closest thing to compare would be the archaic 1977 Ford Thunderbird Coupe T-Top. They’re more sophisticated because they’re fitted with Framework. However, shape and style—identical.
“Shit. That means they could be here in twenty minutes.”
“They still gotta get through the woods and my other preventative measures. So, we need to get Xane back without them seeing us. And we need to do it before they hit the forest, or we will have a real problem on our hands,” Dagan says.
I can only imagine as to what he means by that. “Other preventative measures”—looking around his lair, I don’t want to know what they are.
“Ugh,” Xane sighs in his chair. “I really don’t want to go back.”
“Yes, you do, Xane,” I say, meeting his eyes, an unspoken reminder.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he replies.
“So, he goes back and gets more intel. They’re gonna be watching for him because he just fell off the face of the earth. And, they’re gonna be looking for where he was last pinpointed. How are you gonna get him back to his people? How will he get Willow and escape?” Persephone asks. Wow. She knows about Willow. What else does she know about these guys? I gotta get her alone.
“They’re not my people,” Xane mutters. I ignore him.
“Do you have any suggestions, Seph? Or should we just keep asking the obvious?”
“Well, my suggestion is… Me,” she says, swinging off the table.
“How so?” Dagan asks.
“Well, I infiltrate Gold Shire,” she says, pacing back-and-forth, thoughtfully.
“What? Seph, you know the Slab has to be in the shire, and more importantly—within twenty feet the Coliseum to get you in there.”
“Well, I never said I had all the details,” she says, examining the interrogation rotary phone.
“Is this operational?” she asks.
“Well, it’s—” Dagan starts.
“Persephone.” I interject in my sternest voice.
“Okay. Well, you’re gonna have to figure that part out. But if you get me in there, I can get so much intel,” she says, twirling her ponytail. “And figure out the best strategy to get Xane and Willow out.”
“Who’s Willow?” Dagan asks.
“Not important right now,” I say. “Do you know how tight security is in Gold right now? Even if we can get close enough, we could get captured.”
“Use the Holy Nails,” Persephone answers, now lying on the couch with her arms crooked behind her head.
“How?” I ask.
“They protect you from the Framework,” she replies. “Give one to Dagan and you guys will be set.”
“We’ll need to be able to communicate totally free of Frame. Completely off grid.”
“I might be able to help with that,” Dagan says.
I raise my eyebrows.
“Just because I don’t have Holy Relics doesn’t mean I don’t have a few tricks up my sleeves.” He walks to a wooden door on the other side of the massive space.
I quickly fall in behind. He swipes his kist key and the door rolls open slowly. Inside is a closet, actually more of an infinite hallway. Although narrow, the walls stretch very high and there is no visible end. Shelves line the walls floor-to-ceiling. Resting on their surfaces—ancient artifacts. I spot a Sega Genesis video game console and controllers. Geographic shapes. Cubes drifting down. Electronic chords fill my ears with a progressively rushed melody. Please be a line. Please be a line. I need one horizontally. Desperately. I beat Tetris on that game console once, my claim to fame. I had unearthed a functioning system. With a little tweaking, I had it back and running in no time.
VHS tapes and DVDs, a Discman, a boom box, CDs and cassettes—Red Hot Chili Peppers, Eminem, Justin Bieber’s Purpose, Kid Rock’s entire collection, even the one featuring “Chicken in A Pen,” a favorite of mine and Shane’s. Curiouser by the minute. 4 Non Blondes, Led Zeppelin, Blind Melon, lots of rap. Many others.
A myriad of vintage toys litters some shelves. A Talkboy from Home Alone. A Stretch Armstrong doll; his rubbery limbs beckon for me to pull. Beanie Babies slouch on top of each other. A Teddy Rupskin sits patiently waiting for someone to press ‘record.’ A View-Master is propped up on a stack of circular film-strips. I wonder what’s on them.
Stacked board games: Clue, Candyland, Sorry. A Skip-it and a Bop-it lean against each other, old comrades posing after a win. I see a Mattel Magic Nursery My Bundle Baby doll, unopened. I had one as a kid. I don’t know where my parents found it. They always surprised us on Christmas with impossible-to-find gifts. Supersoaker squirt guns, a collection of Street Shark figurines still in plastic, and Razor Scooter hangs upside down on a shelf. It takes everything in my power not to rip open that Bundle Baby doll to find out if it’s a girl or boy, or twins. Please be twins.
Large, very old cameras pose on dust-free shelves, both film and flash. Old photo books are arranged in neat stacks. In fact, everything is neat. As far as the eye can see, all the items are organized perfectly. Do I sense a little OCD? Not that I can talk. Antique typewriters. One has an aged piece of paper loaded in the type bar. There’s one line. It’s too small for me to see. I don’t snoop but curiosity nags, a toddler ceaselessly tugging my hair. I ignore the chubby baby fingers and continue my scan.
Neat rows of vinyl records and a player. Floppy disks and very archaic computers, then some newer models and laptops. Newspapers, antiquated paper currency, and coins too. I spot musical instruments; a drum set and acoustic guitar. I spot clothes where the closet curves from sight. Way too far down to really look, but there is a shelf lined with hats above the clothing-draped hangers. Me thinks someone might be a hoarder…
Dagan walks in about fifty feet and scans the shelves. He finds what he’s looking for, reaches up, grabs the items, and walks toward me. We head out and the door closes behind us. In his hands, he carries two very old walkie-talkies. They’re small. The size of very outmoded cellphones—the Nokia kind with the snake game on it. I was good at that one too.
“Those work?” I ask, as he turns them on and hands me one.
“Breaker, breaker one-nine, over and out.” His voice crackles from my speaker.
“That’s a ten-four, breaker, Roger that copy. Out and over,” my voice speaks from his device.
“I don’t think that’s the proper usage of prowords,” Persephone comments.
“I’m new at this,” I reply, laughing.
“Okay, okay. We can go over the details for this part, once we get Xane back to the forest,” Dagan says, unlatching Xane’s right arm.
“He’s right,” I say.
“Ugh. I don’t wanna go back,” Xane says, rubbing his arm.
“Xane. Yes, you do. We’re going to do some recon,” I say with a wink to Seph. See, I can use prowords correctly. “You need to go back and keep doing exactly what you’ve been doing. You cannot act suspicious in the least. We still have a lot to figure out about Levi. Just play your role. We’ll contact you when we get the back-half figured out.”
“What time is it?” I ask Persephone.
“It is 8:23p.m.” she says, back in the room.
I need to message Regina and let her know I’m okay. I feel badly for missing dinner. “Seph, can you send Regina a note? Let her know I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“Already did,” she replies brightly. “I didn’t want to be rude.”
Regina’s cheery voice plays out from the Slab. “Take your time honey. I figured ya might have an adventure out in those crazy woods. Take care, sweetie, and I’ll see yo
u when I see you.”
“Thanks, Seph,” I say, looking around the room. “We ready?”
Persephone vanishes in a poof of glittery smoke. I stick my walkie and Slab in my bag. Dagan’s fits in his back pocket.
He takes us through the tunnels and back up to the main floor. It’s dark, both outside and in. The floor lights up, but other than that, utter blackness. I’m disappointed I can’t get another look at the layout.
Once outside, the trek through the woods is quiet and uneventful. The crickets’ chirp drowns out all other noise.
“That’s the clearing up there,” Dagan says, pointing to a break in foliage.
We quickly stage Xane’s performance and go over his lines. We have about five minutes before the Lighters will get to him. We find a massive tree trunk about ten feet away from where Xane lies. It’s big enough to hide both of us, comfortably.
We wait in silence until we hear voices. Xane continues to feign sleep on the ground.
10
“I think the signal was last seen here,” a voice says. It’s a guy. Young, probably Xane’s age.
“I see him. Xane—hey—hey, Xane, you all right, bud?” a second voice says. This one is also male, also young.
“Huh?” Xane asks, sounding—in fact—very dazed. I roll my eyes.
“Xane, what happened?” the first voice asks.
“I-I-I-I don’t know,” he says confused. “I was walking on the path and I tripped.” I can see a light shine over the path. The spotlight lands on the large branch we placed front and center.
“You’ve got a nasty black eye,” the second voice says.
I sneak a look at Dagan. He smirks.
“I think I fell face first.”
“Oh, man, there’s blood on the branch,” the first voice says, shining a light over.
I rub my cloth-covered hand where I cut it. Not deep of course, there wasn’t much blood with the actual wound.
“Jeez,” Xane’s voice says, ‘surprised.’
“Well, we left the Goldster out at the library. So, we have a little bit of a hike, but we can get ya back to the Coliseum and get one of the on-call Grey Docs to look atcha.” The professions of the Mortal Shire include all medical fields. Those performing medical duties are often called Grey Docs.
I Am the Storm Page 8
