8. Rippled Surface

8.  Rippled Surface

 

The Strangers seemed to have a lot to do, so Erika and I were left on the sidelines to watch and worry.  I didn’t mind so much; these were both things I excelled at.

The second night fell swiftly over the deserted shopping district, and the absolute darkness of the city streets was broken up only by the occasional fire.  The entire campground was hastily thrown together, an amalgamate of past and present technology.  Sharp sticks were wielded as weapons when ammunition couldn’t be had or spared.  A fixer was just as likely to be repairing a worn firing mechanism as building a 7,000-year-old pitfall trap over a fissure in the street. 

Escher didn’t seem to be in any hurry to force the footage from me; it was obvious he had me on a short leash.  Now that I’d seen the way he operated, I tended to believe he could reach me anywhere.  Even the gleaming orderliness of Downtown Banlo Bay�"seemingly his antithesis�"did nothing to slow him.  

I’d wanted to talk to Erika on our little mattress in Grundel’s extra room where we slept, but she insisted on taking a walk.  I had no choice but to agree. Besides, she’d found a change of clothes and was in this tight white shirt, the kind with the little straps that go over her shoulders.  She had a white bow in her hair to match, and looked radiant.  I could have read by her light.

“I had to raise myself,” I told her.  I’d never talked about my past with her; I’d never had the courage.  Now it seemed like death was certain, so I didn’t need to look around every corner.  There was no reason to be anxious; I knew exactly where the danger was.

“What do you mean?  Where were your parents?”

“Dead,” I said.  “It was up to me to make sure I didn’t get in any trouble�"that I got to school on time, finished my homework, stayed safe, and so on.”

“That’s terrible,” she said.  “What happened?”

“They were never exactly there for me anyway.  When I was twelve, they had themselves cryogenically frozen so they could carry on their love in some utopian future.  I was too young to join them, but they did it anyway. Obviously, their love was more important than the son it created.”

“So they’re still frozen somewhere?”

“No. They died six months later during a power outage.  I got a postcard in the mail to let me know. You know… one of those 'We regret to inform you' kind of postcards.” 

Erika was silent.

 “I guess realizing how fragile and weak you are, how ultimately powerless, what else can you do?  I’m a f*****g field mouse. I am Frightened Boy,” I said. 

“That’s not true, and you aren’t powerless. Look where we are!  In the middle of the base of a secret revolution.  I don’t think most people could have gotten this far.”

“You mean captured?”  I was skeptical. Things had been very bizarre lately, but none of it was my doing, and I certainly didn't feel special because of it. 

“You’re just looking at things wrong,” she said.  She took a few steps in front of me and twirled in place. 

None of this seemed real.  It was only a few weeks ago that not being approached by a Stranger�"really anyone who wanted something from me�"made it a good day. Maybe not good, per se, but manageable.  Life had seemed so dangerous and upset around me that I was grateful just to make it to work and back without something terrible happening.

Now, I was starting to realize there was more to life than that.  It still didn’t mean I wanted any part of it, though�"only Erika.  Of all the things life had to offer me, I’d politely decline all of them but her.  I’d never really had a girlfriend, big surprise.

“Erika, we need to talk,” I sighed.  I didn’t want to talk about anything with her that wasn’t pleasant.

“Yes, Lord?”

“Knock it off,” I said.  “Erika, do you know what happened to the hard drive at my office?  The missing one�"the one Escher wants? He seems very sure that I have it.”

She bit her lower lip and widened her eyes, looking very much like she was trying to hold her words in. “Even if I did, do you really want him to have it?” she asked, grinning suddenly.  “Trust me, everything I do is to keep you safe. I trust you absolutely, so how about having a little faith in me?  That's why we’re out here tonight.  What wouldn’t a faithful disciple do for her Lord?”

I noticed we had ventured a ways from the center of the makeshift camp. 

“Erika, of course I want him to have that hard drive. Then he’ll leave us alone and we can go home.”

“I don’t think there’s ever going to be a home again, Clark.  I think we should play our cards right and make a new home for ourselves.  Whatever is going on out here, it’s big.  I’ve been in camps of roamers before, and this isn’t one of them.  This is an army. That hard drive is our only bargaining chip. As long as I know where it is, they need us. As long as they need us, we won’t die with everyone else.” 

Headlights turned the corner, and the entire street shone with alien light.  As the beams turned to face me, I noticed the strange outline of the car they were attached to; steel flaps around the headlights and side windows, heavy cattle-catcher guard on the bumper. 

“Who’s this?” I asked.

“An old acting partner. We did a few shows together; he’s going to bail us out. We’ll go get the hard drives, move them somewhere safer.”

I started to object, but Erika pressed a soft, pale finger to my lips.  She leaned in and kissed my cheek.

The car rushed forward and screeched to a halt. An old family car with mismatched metal plates welded to its body; its stripped black tires stopped an inch from my feet.

The moment this vehicle rocked back on its wheels, two things happened: I froze, and everything around me exploded into action.

A disembodied hand and face appeared inches from behind Erika, one hand wrapping around her mouth and the other her waist.  She attempted a muffled scream as Sam pulled her back and away from me.

I turned back around, and the menacing figure of a Stranger in full regalia was standing in front of the car. The collar from her long charcoal trench coat rose up to high cheekbones, hiding her face.  Only the twinkling, starry eyes of the feline leaping from her shoulder toward me gave away her identity.

I twisted as the cat pounced; it dug into my shoulder, screeching hiss in my ear. I ignored the pain of the scratching and grabbed the cat by the torso, dumping it on the ground just as a third figure barreled into me, knocking the air from my lungs. The ground went vertical, gave me vertigo, and soon I couldn’t see Earth at all.  The dark-skinned, bald-headed man with the quotation marks had his knees on my chest and was grappling with my hands, trying to reach my throat. Trying to stop his arms felt like trying to redirect a river with my hands.

There was a tremendous motion above me, and suddenly the weight from my chest was gone.  On the ground next to me was my attacker, clutching his ribs.

An enormous black man �" the driver of the armored sedan - picked me up by the collar of my shirt and set me on my feet. “Hurry the hell up!” he shouted, shotgun in one hand.

All I could think about was protecting Erika.  I rushed toward the sound of her struggling.  Sam came into full view just as I remembered it was his hands on her.  For some reason, this infuriated me, as if he had broken some unspoken trust.

Reason escaped me as I charged into him.  I had imagined I would do something brave or useful, but I panicked at the last moment and just jumped onto him, dragging both him and Erika to the ground with me.

Both Sam and I scrambled and stood up over Erika’s fallen body.  I was about to�"to hit him I guess… or do something. 

And then suddenly, I was ten feet away and on the ground, my back pressed against one of the simple metal buildings that lined the street.  The pain didn't hit me immediately, but then there it was. It felt like my ribs were digging into my lungs, and I could only pant feebly, unable to draw in a full breath. 

Then I saw him, standing there over Erika like he owned her.  I stared at him as the driver began carrying me away. 

Escher was grinning. 

The driver threw me into his car like I was luggage, then jumped into the driver’s side and slammed his foot to the accelerator. I could barely hear the squeal of the tires over the pounding of my heart.

The car swerved to narrowly miss Whisper, who hissed violently.  Her dissent was mimicked by a chorus of smaller hisses.  She held a large revolver, aimed right at my head.  I watched the barrel of the gun track my face perfectly for several seconds.

“What the f**k is going on here?” the driver asked. 

“You left Erika! We have to get Erika.”

“What? You think we can just charge back there and grab her?”

I turned around to look out the rear slats of his makeshift tank and saw that the number of black shapes coagulating in the street had increased.  My heart fell. “No, I guess not.  We need a plan though. We can’t just leave her.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, buddy.  The Strangers have her. The police won’t do anything.  They won’t even go near the Orange Zone.”

Erika.  Now that I’d had her, I had to have her back.  What kind of God am I, anyway?