by Dan McNeill
“We gotta move fast,” Salome said. “Follow me.”
Raymond nodded, following Salome quickly to the side of a dark building. Salome pushed Raymond behind a wall of carefully stacked metal barrels and peeked around the corner of the building.
Some of the Triz, the older ones mostly, were being separated from the others. A Chosen woman was supervising the process. Dressed in a long black gown, a dirty white scarf covered part of her face. She reminded Raymond of his kindergarten teacher Mrs. Pavlov. The one who used to pronounce his name Be-An, even after he corrected her. A fat old hag with a hair lip who got off on showing she was in charge. She was probably the reason Raymond hated school so much.
The woman in the black gown was making marks on a clipboard as she glared at the older Triz with fake, condescending smiles. Whatever she was saying to them, it was a lie.
But now the smile seemed real. It stretched golden between her wrinkled cheeks, as she motioned for the old Triz to climb onto a bus. It was a school bus. Raymond looked at it. Something about it wasn't right. As the old woman ushered the last of the group onto the bus, Raymond figured it out. There were no rear wheels on the bus. The back of the bus was held up by cinder blocks. The old lady fastened the door shut with a chain and flipped a switch attached to a light pole. A motor started and the inside of the bus began filling with smoke.
"That's number three," Salome said faintly. "But no time for tears Ray," she said. "Not now that we're so close." Wiping her eyes, she dashed towards a dumpster adjacent to a long building that looked like something post-industrial. It stunk like methane and oil. Glancing up, Raymond could see the smoke belching chimney he spotted earlier. Crouching behind the dumpster, she waited for the last of the prisoners to be marched inside.
With a pair of channel locks she pulled from her bag, she busted a lock on a service door and pushed her way in. Quickly looking around, she bolted up a flight of wooden stairs. Raymond followed, Stopping when they got to a junction in a sterile hallway, she glanced both ways before continuing up to the next level. Raymond followed her to an area that looked like a mechanic's garage. The smell of grease was heavy. From somewhere nearby, he could hear the rhythmic machinations of some type of assembly line. Salome motioned for Raymond to stay back while she ran ahead, glancing out at an open room around the other end of the hallway before giving him the signal to join her.
Raymond made it to Salome, finding her crouched down behind what looked to be a canoe-sized log, the insides of which were hollowed out, revealing a narrow padded bench. Made out of hard plastic or fiber glass, the log was obviously artificial. Men in white robes and black skullcaps walked by in both directions. A trio of drones, their armor clanging as they marched, moved past them with singular purpose.
Beyond the hallway was an entrance to another facility. Red carpeting led into a darkened area. When the drones had passed, Salome ducked and ran across the hall and into the room.
Entering the front of the facility, Raymond realized that this was more than just another room. It was the entrance to an exhibit. No, Raymond thought to himself. Of course. This was a ride.
Salome led them past a set of saloon-style swinging screen doors that looked like they once marked the way to the start of this ride’s line queue. They moved underneath the metal railings that twisted around a cement maze, coming to a wide open foyer.
"Detention wing's just past here. If we're quiet, we'll get there unnoticed." Passing through the queue, she pointed to a circular launching pad, surrounded by a mote-like trench.
"Were you ever here?" Salome asked, stepping into the dried out mote.
"No," Raymond said, following Salome. "Why would I have been?"
"Before they turned this island into a National Guard armory, it used to be a water park. They actually kept this ride open for awhile to entertain the families."
"How do you know so much?"
"Jake, he knows everything. Used to be in the Marines. The Prophet had plans for this place."
Salome turned on a flashlight as she walked swiftly into a dark tunnel. It looked like this was supposed to be some sort of Colonial American themed adventure ride. And while the log boats that once sailed by were long gone, the faux villages were not. It reminded Raymond a little of the Pirates of the Caribbean ride he rode on when they visited Disneyland back when he was a kid. Except, in this case, instead of scenes of marauding pirates and dancing bar-maids, there were scenes of Minutemen and Betsy Ross and some guy who looked like a garden gnome guarding General George Washington’s boat. Upon closer inspection, Raymond corrected himself. It was a garden gnome.
“Stop gawking handsome!" Salome whispered. "This way!" As they continued along the boat track, they came upon a British fort. A couple of mannequins dressed as Red Coats lied on their side guarding the entrance, muskets still in their hands. A Union Jack hung from a flagpole next to the set of plastic log doors the soldiers were once tasked to guard. With a mock salute, Salome stepped over the guards and entered the fort.
Behind the log doors and the wilted British flag there was just moldy drywall and a narrow hallway leading to an exit sign hanging above a black door with a push bar. “The detention wing's on the other side,” Salome said. “If your brother's still alive, he’s in here.”
Salome ran to the door and stopped. Reaching to her side, she removed a slim device that looked like an old smart phone. It was pink and had hung from a holster tucked under her pants. Raymond hadn't noticed that back on the train. She raised the device up, holding it like it were a gun in her right hand; with her left, she signaled for Raymond to keep quiet. Raymond quietly raised Remmy. With a gentle shushing sound, Salome lowered her hand to the push-bar on the door and opened it.
Three drones patrolling the far end of the hallway took notice, swung around and immediately opened fire.
"Shit!" Salome screamed. She flipped back around to try and reopen the door but it was locked shut. "Get down!" Salome rolled to a crawl, leaping behind an admin's desk as drone fire ripped just over her shoulder.
Raymond didn't wait for any orders. Parking himself behind a gurney with dark-stained sheets he opened fire.
By the time he pulled the trigger and let Remmy rage, the drones had figured out their gameplan and the shot went wide right. They appeared to be working together. Much more than a human team. They were fighting and defending as one unit.
The two drones in front paused for less than a second, simultaneously switching weapons. With their angel wings fully raised, they started running up the hallway, machine guns blazing with a strafing fire aimed low at the sides of the hallway. They weren't trying to kill them. They were trying to flush them out.
Their mistake. As the bullets ripped, Raymond aimed left and fired. Swinging right, he fired again and both drones were down.
He was about to take out the third when it began to speak...
“STAY WHERE YOU ARE WAYMOND!”
Raymond dropped his rifle and froze.
“NO SUDDEN MOVEMENTS OR YOU WILL BE KILLED WAYMOND!” the voice commanded.
This was Po.
“NOOOO!” With every rage he held against their dad for causing this, Raymond jumped, not even knowing why exactly, hurling herself towards Po with all of his strength.
Before Raymond could connect, the not-Po pivoted, much quicker than Raymond would have thought possible, and fired.
The bullets grazed Raymond’s arm, enough to sting like a scratch on a sunburn but no deeper. Hitting the hard linoleum floor, Raymond rolled behind another gurney and sat up.
Salome was also in motion, leaping behind the counter of a reception desk at the center of the hallway. She looked up at the ceiling, at a solid black device about the size of a cigar box with dual silver antennas sticking down. Jumping up on the counter, she reached up and tore the box down.
For a moment, Po stopped. Salome jumped down off the counter, looking scared but ready. Raymond felt that she’d been in situations like this before. Pro
bably many times before.
"Come to me!" Salome yelled. "Taking out the network relay's only gonna stop him for a few seconds!"
Raymond got up and ran towards Salome's voice as Po came back to life. He grabbed Raymond firmly by the neck and hurled him back against the wall.
"You will soon join Po, Waymond," the creature yelled. Through the helmet, the voice sounded like Po was playing with Abraham's old synthesizer. He reloaded his weapon and raised it.
"You will join Po or Waymond will die."
Raymond made no effort to move. All he could do now was bury his face in his hands and cry. With his gun still raised, Po lumbered towards him, his boots banging off of the linoleum tiles.
Salome was looking at Raymond too, mouthing some words he couldn’t understand. With Po just feet away, Salome raised up her slim pink smart-phone-looking gun like she were going to take Po's picture.
“No! That’s my brother!” Raymond yelled.
“Not anymore.” Salome gritted her teeth and fired.
Raymond turned towards the rampaging Po and jumped, hoping to block the shot.
As he flew through the air, he had a momentary recollection of his earliest memory of his older brother. They were at a beach in Ohio visiting their Aunt Audrey. Raymond couldn’t have been more than four or five. Po was maybe seven. Some older boys, probably having sensed that Raymond was deathly afraid of water, were pushing him towards it. About neck deep into the lake, he remembered hearing someone screaming incoherently, causing the boys to bolt. Raymond turned to see his older brother, a red blanket tucked behind the back of his shirt so that it flew behind him like a cape. His little arms were outstretched long, running as fast as he could. “Po save you Waymond!” It was his Superman. His hero.
Raymond hit the ground hard, bursting the memory, and quite possibly his shoulder blade. As he did, he looked up to see a surge of blue electrical charge hitting Po square on the chest. He kicked slightly, whimpered, and then was motionless. Raymond ran to him as tiny sparks enveloped the metal armor like synapses on the brain. Underneath the armor, Raymond hoped he was still wearing his windbreaker. Po got cold without it. Within a few seconds the sparks slowed, then stopped. Raymond dropped down to his knees and began to cry.
Raymond had failed his hero again.
Chapter 7
Salome rushed out from behind the reception desk. Tucking her gun back in her holster, she ran to the drone lying on the ground. Stopping, she rolled Po over to his side, removing the white helmet.
“Help me get this armor off so we can stand him up!”
“What?”
"Shut up and listen!" she yelled as she unclasped the latches along the side of his leg and chest armor. "I ripped down the network relay. The other drones won't see this floor for another ten, maybe fifteen minutes, but no longer. After that, the data blasts fill in the gaps. We gotta get him up now!"
“But he's dead! Look at him!”
“Are you cracked? You think I'd take you all this way just to pop a cap in him? I just stunned him! Now hurry and do what I said!”
The clothes Raymond had laid out for Po yesterday morning. They were still on him. His baggy red corduroys and plain white sweatshirt. His lime-green windbreaker. Force of habit of course. Po could quite easily pick out his own clothes. But Raymond liked doing it. And Po let him.
Raymond did as she said, lifting Po to his feet while Salome struggled to hold up his other side.
"This way!" Salome said, walking quickly now down the hall.
"Where are we taking him?"
"To someone who can help."
Holding Po by the shoulders, they carried his slumping body down to the far end of the hall. Turning the corner, Salome flipped the visor on her helmet down.
Already coming towards them were three Chosen guards, each of them armed. "Over here!" she yelled to them.
"What the hell?" Raymond said to her.
"Play along," she said through gritted teeth.
In a few seconds, the three guards were on them.
"This one was trying to escape," Salome said, letting Po drop to the ground. "We caught him."
The three guards seemed to be ignoring her. The tallest of the three, a tall man with a long dark beard approached them. "Security breach," he said to Salome. "Someone pulled down the drone relays. Put your hands up, both of you. We need to be sure."
"Of course you do," Salome said, a tinge of excitement in her voice. Raising her hands, she let the buzz of her pink pistol envelop them. All three of the guards dropped to the floor in silence.
She quickly went through the pockets of the guards until she found something she was looking for. Smiling, she removed a white key card from the lead guard's pocket.
"Come on," she said, once again lifting Po up by the shoulder. "Your brother doesn't have much time."
Raymond said nothing as they lifted him to his feet. He was just dead wait. His skin looked pale and lifeless and his breathing was becoming shallow. Raymond followed Salome's lead until they came to a door.
Salome took out the keycard and inserted it into a notch just above the door handle. With a clicking sound, she pushed opened the door, dragging Po through the threshold. Getting a few feet into the room, Raymond looked up, noticing the two prisoners sitting on metal cots. His arms grew suddenly limp.
"Son of a bitch!" Raymond dropped hold of Po and charged.
One of the men, Raymond had never seen before. He wore faded green army fatigues and a black shirt. His dark blond hair was parted down the middle, flowing evenly in a loose wave above his broad shoulders. He quickly stood up as Raymond ran towards them, his muscular arms supporting his rock-solid frame.
The other prisoner was this man’s polar opposite. The gangly stance. The nose piercing. The black trench coat he would wear, even in the summer. The gaunt cheeks and the greasy black hair – now at shoulder length. Nothing had changed. Raymond's fist connected with this one's jaw just a second before the other prisoner pulled him back.
“Hello Raymond,” Abraham said, getting up to his feet as he spat up a modicum of blood. His arms were no longer gangly, Raymond noticed. While not nearly as muscular as the other guy, Raymond could tell his brother had been engaged in exercise that required more than a keyboard or joystick.
“I’d say thanks," he continued, looking now at Salome, "but I’m fairly certain someone used her feminine charms to lure you here.”
Salome dragged Po into the room by herself, handing her off to the blonde guy. She looked at Abraham and bowed. "He's been droned, Prophet," she said softly. Stepping back, she looked to Raymond.
“Sorry Raymond,” Salome said. "The Elected want all of the Beans. You, Po." She stopped and dropped her gaze. "And I knew you'd never help me if you knew you were going to rescue Abraham.”
Raymond said nothing, shaking his head. "So the train..."
"All for the cause handsome," she said softly. "All for the cause."
"Enough!" Abraham commanded. "Get him on the bed!" He gestured for the muscular guy to move. "Jake!" he said, pointing to the man in the army fatigues, "Cover the door! If anyone tries to get in, kill them. My brother's life depends on it."
Placing his hands on Po's temples, Abraham swallowed hard and began. On Po’s skull, there was a black plastic fitting. In the middle of the fitting, a small silver pin, not much thicker than a strand of hair pushed through a tiny red flap. He tossed the black electrode square to the ground. As he did, Po began to moan.
Salome kneeled down across from Raymond on the opposite side of the cot. Clearing her throat, Salome put her backpack on the cold prison floor. Unzipping it, she removed something, placing it on Po's chest. It was his Superman doll.
Abraham paused for a moment, holding his breath. With steady hands, he began slowly pulling out the silver pin. Po’s moaning grew louder.
But as Raymond listened closer, it wasn’t a moan coming from Po’s sad face. It was a word.
“Jooowie...” Raymond could
hear Po whimper. Tiny tears formed in the corners of his blue eyes. He pushed his head down into the pillow on the cot and started rocking it slightly, as if he were recoiling from something horrific.
The Julie Kramer incident. Back in high school, Po was in love with a girl named Julie Kramer. She was perfect for him, at least in Po’s mind. They were both seniors (although Po was a little more senior). She was a long-haired brunette with a gorgeous smile. Even though Raymond was a freshman at the time, he remembered her as one of the popular girls that every guy wanted.
So Po was no exception. But Po was luckier than most guys because he was actually seeing Julie Kramer on a regular basis. Every Saturday at noon she’d come over to the house to tutor Po, part of some service project she was doing at the church. She’d read to him and play games and Po loved it.
Po also apparently loved Julie Kramer. Every time she’d come over, Po would put on his best clothes and splash on way too much of their dad’s aftershave. He did this every week, for six weeks. On the seventh week, he actually put on the tuxedo he had worn from their cousin’s wedding he was in the year before. Unfortunately for Po, Julie Kramer’s service project only lasted six weeks. She neglected to tell Po this.
Po stayed in his room, alone and devastated. Raymond could remember his sad howls echoing through their small ranch-style house. Mom ran straight to him. As it turned out, Po had decided to wear his tuxedo because he had a surprise for Julie Kramer that afternoon. He was going to propose to her. He even had a ring (one Raymond later learned was a piece of plastic “bling” he had gotten from a gumball machine at the grocery store). Po was a pretty happy-go-lucky guy. Not much seemed to bother him. But whenever he happened to catch a true glimpse of the world, in all of its wretched glory, their mom knew exactly how to set things right. She would sing to him.
Raymond looked down at his trembling brother right now and hoped he could carry an Elvis tune as well as his mom did that Saturday afternoon.
