I felt as the glass behind me vibrated again. The Maxx and it’s impossibly loud screech-metal-hell music trying to break down the barrier separating the pulsing masses out to party, and the serious, world shaking stakes of the small back room. No pressure, or anything. But, it did leave me to feel the faint shaking of reinforced glass, because there weren’t any free seats. The things I did for 70k a year. I was cast in darkness, save for the occasional flashes of iridescence from the stage and performers who really thought they were onto something.
Senator Garrison lit up one of his cigars, filling the room with the smell and a bit of light, as he propped his feet up on a table that was definitely for display and might break before the night was gone. He looked across the table at the two science eggheads crammed into the private booth, whereas he took up both seats of his. It was just the four of them, but I knew there were armed guards outside.
“So, did you bring the sample, or are you two going to keep jerking me around?”
The Senator asked, serious for a moment, before switching to a hearty sounding laugh.
“…We did, sir. But there a-” One of them, the woman with glasses that covered half her face began.
“Well? Fuckin’ show me!” He said, interrupting with vigor. I sighed. Not interjecting yet, but the senator had ordered three drinks as a ‘warm up’ to this negotiation. I had, of course, stayed sober.
The woman reached under the table and pulled out a briefcase. And slid it across the table towards Garrison, who looked to be almost salivating. But he paused.
“Pretty small for 12.2 billion.” He sounded almost suspicious. Sometimes, I thought my boss might be an idiot.
“A testament to efficiency.” I say, aloud, not sure if I was heard over the faint pulsing. I’m about to repeat myself, when Garrison nodded.
“I suppose you’re quite right! What’s the code?” He said, looking to the area along the handle where a numerical lock laid.
“Before you open it, sir?” The other scientist, a man who might’ve looked good if he had bothered to fix his collar, and remembered to brush his hair, spoke.
“Yes? What is it.” Garrison said with a dismissive sounding tone, starting to fiddle with the numbers, despite not having a clue.
“Our compensation-” He began.
“Will be delivered when you prove this was worth what was paid.” I interjected, again, my tone colder then it had been before.
“Quite right Oliver!” Garrison spoke with the most enthusiasm I’d heard yet. “Now, the code?”
The two scientists look to each other, before the woman said, in a low volume.
“3224.”
The Senator’s large hands locked the numbers into place, and the click of the case was louder then you’d expect. He opened it. His face displayed disappointment. He reached into the case, and pulled out a small metal…something, with a golden groove down the middle, illuminated by a collection of LED lights inside the case.
“And what the hell is this? I was promised something important. 12.2 billion of Defense spending for some kind of credit card? What was the president thinking! That third term motherfucker!”
He might be an idiot. I interjected again, looking to the scientists.
“Please explain what we’ve just acquired.” I say, a lot more calmly, trying to seem sympathetic to win them over.
“-Of course! What you’re holding there is a miracle of computing technology-” The woman began.
“-This some kind of computer? I’ve got one of those at home.” Garrison grumbled. “Why would you need a computer this small anyways-“
“If you’d let her finish.” Said the male scientist firmly. Garrison made a vague gesture of ‘go on’.
“It’s not a computer, but it is a part of one. You’re holding a terabyte of data in your hands, Mr. Senator.” She sounded awfully proud.
“Is that a lot?” I ask, the question leaving my lips before I realized how idiotic it sounded. Stupid. My face flushed, and I hoped they couldn’t see it in the patchy lighting I was in.
“Very much so. This is top secret, but-”
She looked around, as if there was going to be some kind of spy lurking under the decorative table, or using Garrison for cover. A CIA spook who would throw her into one of Cross’s Banality Centers.
She evidently deemed the secrecy of the secret room satisfactory, and stopped wasting our time.
“-The technology for computing has been exploding behind closed doors. But even with that, a chip like this should be impossible. Yet, somehow, the government has been producing them en mase, and shipping them to Fort Seberg”
“So you’ve given me something that Uncle Sam has in droves? What the hell is the leverage in that?” Garrison demanded, clearing not liking the explanation so far.
“Well, sir-” The woman began, clearly flustered, and about to stumble over words. Idiot. Stick to your guns, show strength.
Thankfully, her male colleague made up for his lack of use of a bathroom mirror and took control.
“This one is special. The other chips are invoiced at much less, about a million apiece, and were created at Argetlam Labs out west. This one was being made in the halls of the Pentagon. They even had a Wand working on it.”
This got the Senator’s attention, he rose an eyebrow and leaned back, but, in a stroke of fortune, didn’t interrupt. I couldn’t blame him, because this intrigued even me. Last I checked, the United States wasn’t meant to be conniving with anyone but Oil CEO’s and puppet states.
The scientist continued.
“It defies being read by any conventional computing software, bricks it instantly. But, it’s supposed to be getting shipped to the Fort right now. There’s something being worked on there, something that clearly needs that, if I had to guess, sir.” He spoke politely, and with confidence-finally, someone who knew how to talk to power. I saw Garrison start to grin.
“Now, this is what I pay you two for. President Cross’s personal computer project, hm? Because this didn’t pass through any of my budget committees”
“Unless it was one of the ones you skipped to go make backroom deals in this hellpit” I thought, but didn’t voice.
Lucky for the senator, it seems he didn’t miss this memo. The woman nodded.
“Exactly! Strict order of the President. We managed to get onto the transport detail, and swap it with a fake. You should have a week or so to use it as leverage.”
Somehow, the grin on Garrison’s face grew even wider.
“Good-no, excellent. This is why I pay you two the big bucks. Speaking of, Oliver, pay our friends here.”
If this were some kind of better job, this would be when I would pull out a gun, or hand them a case that was actually a bomb. But, instead, I handed over the briefcase with over a million dollars in it. It ate at me, for some reason.
The two scientists stood up. The man pulled out a folder from his coat, and held it out to Garrison, who motioned for me to take it. I did. It had the Agency of Occult Affairs logo on it.
“That is the remaining notes on the chip. It should tell you all you need to know. More pressingly, it has the President’s signature. You can forward a bonus to the usual place.”
Before Garrison could shoot them down, the two eggheads stepped out of the room. Leaving the senator and his aide alone.
“Oliver, take the case, we’re leaving.”
Garrison ordered, and I obliged with a bit of hesitation. The senator placed the chip back into the case, and I couldn’t help but stare just a little at the golden groove and the reflection of the light against the metal. Would something this small really make the difference…?
I burned a bit of my social goodwill to ask the question aloud.
“Will this really work, sir?”
I asked, as I placed the folder under my arm, closed the case, and hoisted it, even though I didn’t need to, at it’s weight.
“Hm? Of course it will. He’s one senate vote away from being impeached. We only need four or five democrats to get it done. My allies in the House are waiting for the day.”
Garrison grinned, and puffed some smoke from his cigar as he said this.
“Of course but…he’s already a third term President. He’s already taken control of most of the levers of power. Surely one Merlin themed scandal won’t sink him.”
I tried to be polite. I wanted this to work, because it probably would mean that the Senator would be forced to give me a pay raise.
“He’s a third term President because he’s had crisis after crisis, and looks like the tough guy. And he’s a politician whose managed to avoid cheating on his wife, as far as my friends tell me”
By ‘friends’ the Senator of course met the international investigators he and his political party had monitoring the President. Best they could, anyways. It was a real hit to the National Action Party’s budget every year. I had gotten a look at the numbers, and those Investigators got paid ten times my salary.
“Plus-” Garrison said, with another puff. “People are idiots. He gives them scraps from the American table, and they gobble them up without asking for more. Not to mention that flying woman’s accursed speeches stabbing the Republicans in the gut.” He grumbled and complained throughout the entire sentence.
“Still planning on indicting her when you’re President?” I asked, with a sigh. Knowing the answer already.
He grinned. The widest he had all night.
“Of course I am, Oliver. First president to indict an alien, United States v Lunarialaia, I’ll make history. Not to mention that’ll finally put a stop to all this damnable madness. But we have to impeach Cross and ruin his party first. What do you think of “Chipgate”. Hm, no, too tacky. Maybe the “Transparency in Computing Act”…I’ll workshop it. Point is, we’re on the cusp of something big. Spencer Cross has run this country on the back of being tough on Wands, magical regulation, Atalantian Reprisal, removing Freaks from government. But he’s got a Wand in the Pentagon, making who knows what? That’ll be it for him. Plus, we’ve fed him a bone to get him distracted.” He said, extinguishing the cigar in the ashtray, and starting to stand.
“Bone? I don’t catch your meaning?” I asked, furrowing my brow. This got Garrison to pause…and then laugh.
“Poor Jeanette and Darren. They’re going to get indicted on something, and never see the sun again. They’ll end up taking the fall, and Cross will make it a point. They’ll inevitably tell him about how they handed the chip off to me, but he can’t accuse his own opposition of foul play publicly. It’ll burn his remaining coalition faster then what I’m gonna to do him. No matter how you slice it, he’s on the backfoot.”
That made a lot of sense. I was wondering why he hadn’t bothered emphasizing secrecy in either of the two scientists, like he normally did with the people he worked with. No contract, no threats, nothing. It was smart. I almost felt bad for them, before I remembered that if Garrison got into office, they could easily do the same thing for the next highest bidder. Good thing the good guys got to them first. The thought brought a small smile to my face. I nodded.
“That makes sense. Sorry for questioning you, sir.” I said, with a slight bow of my head. He waved a hand dismissively in response.
“Bah. It’s not me you’re questioning anyhow. Now, let’s go. I’ve had Vince waiting with the limo for twenty minutes.”
That was true. I moved to follow him out the door, the screech and the music, and the pulse of humanity instantly hitting the both of us like a crashing wave. Naturally, neither of us really flinched, as we began to walk down the hallway. The two bodyguards outside, wearing impeccable suits and ties, fell in line behind us. Their names were George, and…
The new girl. I forgot her name, because I hadn’t cared at the time. I’d pull it from the record later to pretend I remembered.
Senator Garrison looked the happiest he’d been in awhile, and despite all his flaws, he was the type of guys whose good mood was everyone’s good mood. The smile on my face had blossomed from sly tell, to something more ambient and pleasant. The folder under my arm and the briefcase in my hand were the key to the future, and-
We only got a few steps away, before something went wrong. The sound of screaming, the music, the pulsing pounding that I’d gotten used to coming to a stop, and a sharp metallic shriek, like nails on a chalkboard. I turned, to see what the hell was going on, and that’s when the first gunshot went off, and I immediately longed for the sound of awful music to be ringing in my ears instead.
It was hard deciding what to take in first. Was it the sight of something large, quadrupedal, and fast moving through the crowd and trampling people? Was it the sight of someone physically jumping from the second floor of the club, looking to land feet first? Or was it the remains of George’s face flecking towards me, as the new girl, who my brain helpfully reminded me was named Amanda, pointed her gun my way.
My eyes widened like a deer in the headlights. I turned, and pushed Garrison forward, so he didn’t stop to look. The next gunshot roared through the air, harming my eardrums yet again with extreme prejudice, and I felt a sharp, terrible pain in my upper body. I could still move, so adrenaline demanded I did, as I quickly surpassed Garrison, who wasn’t really in shape. I threw open the emergency exit at the end of the hall, and turned back around, the Senator only a pace behind. The third gunshot rang out, but at a distance, and nowhere close to hitting either of us. I saw Amanda, scuffling in the hallway with someone holding a long blade, as the larger creature lumbered forward, and a fourth gunshot rang out from sources unknown. Then, the Senator stumbled through the door, so I threw it shut with all my might. The mass of people pouring from the front of the Maxx, the sound of traffic mixed with sirens, failed to overpower the ringing in my ears. I felt my stomach feeling warmer and wetter, and felt sickened on my feet. I pressed on, towards the limo, opening the door for Garrison.
“Goddamn it! Drive Vince, drive!” He shouted, as he practically dove in, which would have been incredibly funny under the right circumstances. I got in just behind him, and slammed the door shut with force, as if that would repel any pursuer. The door to the Maxx remained shut, even as it left sight, Garrison’s driver taking us into the streets of Baltimore with force.
————————————————————————————-
The less murderously inclined bodyguard, Horace, tied off the final stitch in my side. According to him, I’d been lucky, and the bullet had only grazed me. I should go to a hospital, by his advice. I wouldn’t be doing that. I didn’t let myself wince or yelp when the sharp pain concluded, and I continued talking through the limousine’s phone.
“-Thank you, Sergeant. The Senator is very grateful.”
“No problem at all. No suspects in custody yet, we’re still looking for the corpses witnesses said they saw. We’re sorting things through here, and will be sure to update Senator Garrison’s office as we know more. And keep his name out of everything.” Sergeant Alex Stone of the BCPD was happy to answer the call of patriotic service to the party, and I had been glad for it, because the finagling it would take for a bribe or otherwise persuading anyone.
“Be sure that you do. Call the official Party number and they’ll get the Senator updated. Thank you, again.” I hung up the phone and released a long sigh. I hadn’t wanted that conversation to go on a moment longer.
I was sitting in the backmost area of the limo. Garrison was at the front of the vehicle, currently telling his war story to the young 20 something secretary that was pretending to be interested. She was pretty, but not Oliver’s type. Still, the faint pang of jealousy. I’d been the one who got shot after all. But, whatever. He leaned back, and stared out the window, jostled out of dozing by Horace.
“Not so good news, I assume?” He asked, seemingly unphased by the news that his coworker had been shot in the line of duty. Ex army, he’d probably seen enough there that this didn’t really bug him. Still, the sight of the destroyed face of the other bodyguard was probably not going to get out of my head for quite awhile. The ringing in my ears, thankfully, had faded with time.
“About what I expected. No news yet. On any freak, on Amanda, on anyone, really. But we got away, and that’s what matters. As long as nothing is traced back to the Senator, that is.”
This job wasn’t supposed to get me shot at. I was considering the tactical pros and cons of switching fields in the back of my head. Political prestige and fame wouldn’t matter if I was dead. But…I didn’t want to get on the bad side of someone who might be the President some day. Horace’s chuckle broke me out of my internal book balancing.
“Everything moves fast except what you want, hm? Amanda didn’t strike me as a sellout.”
“You know her?” I asked, my eyebrows going up.
“Knew, in passing. Talked some shit night after her first shift. Nothing special. She seemed more serious then the type to take a bribe, I dunno.” He gave a shrug. “But sometimes people surprise you, and not in a good way. It’s how the world flows.”
“Yeah. I guess.” I said, unconvinced. “How much you wanna bet she was on Cross’s payroll?” The possibility had been crossing my mind ever since I’d gotten to safety. It seemed to be the only logical answer.
That got another chuckle from Horace.
“What’s so funny?” I asked, with indigence.
“You government types, you’re all the same. That’s all.” He said it so simply.
“And?” I said, with clearly some frustration, because it just got him to laugh more. That asshole.
“Not everything’s a big conspiracy. Happens in the security field all the time. Somebody takes a job to get a shot at somebody. Normally it isn’t a Senator, but y’know. Some wackos get handed a gun and think they can just point and shoot.” Again, the simplicity of it aggravated to me. I shot him a look, tearing my eyes away from the passing landscape.
“Seems a little coincidental, considering the circumstances. There has to be a deeper motive then that.” I say, with some defensiveness starting to creep to the surface.
“What seems more likely to you, Ollie. This girl had a line to the president, ready to assassinate a political rival, and chose to shoot George first, instead of, you know, shooting the senator in the back. Or that she’s some thrill seeking trigger junkie who wanted to be on the news, so she wasted a bodyguard, and halfheartedly tried to do the same to his boss? I dunno about you, but one of these stands out as a lot more plausible.”
Damn. That made sense. I hated that it did.
Evidently, my silence was enough of an answer, for Horace, who clasped me on the shoulder. I managed to avoid wincing.
“Occam’s Razor, Ollie, Occam’s Razor.” He said with another chuckle.
“Fine. But what about the rest of the freakshow?” I said, as if trying to claw back some semblance of a point. Actually, no trying, that was just what I was doing. It made me sound desperate, and I hated it.
“We live in a world of freaks. That’s why I voted for Cross last election.” Horace shrugged, profoundly, despite me giving him half a glare. I gave up on being annoyed after a second, and slouched back in my seat.
“Yeah, and things are just sunshine and puppies now, huh?” Again, I sounded too defensive. I had to keep it together. But Horace was aggravating in how simple he was.
“Maybe not. But I didn’t have to learn to speak fish. Plus, he pulled us out of Guatemala, and a lot of those countries. Counts for something, hm?”
“Any idiot can win a war against people who haven’t discovered gunpowder or the steam engine. He’s not exactly been very pragmatic since then.” I countered, pulling on my debate skills. I’d gone to Oxford, I wasn’t going to let some hired help walk over me. “If Reagan had been elected-“
“The actor? Ha! You’re funny.” Horace cut me off in a fit of laughter. His favored state was laughing his ass off. Or so it would seem.
“And Cross was a farmer at one point, your point?” I pressed. “People from unlikely backgrounds often get into power. Doesn’t mean they’ll do good or bad. Though, honestly, an acting background is better for politics then farming. But, my point, is that any president could have gotten us where Cross is. He’s not special, he’s just an opportunist. Taking advantage of our fear of the unknown, exploiting information only he has, using the endorsement of a fucking alien life form! C’mon, Horace, you can’t tell me that’s the sign of a good president.” I was satisfied with that argument. He’d see it my way.
“…Don’t really care, man. Look, I like Garrison. Hope things pan out. Cross is shitty, like everybody in politics. But if you’re pitting me between the party of Mr. Word and Ronald Reagan and the party of Lunarialaia and Jimmy Carter…” He let the point hang.
I rolled my eyes.
“I don’t like those first two people. That’s why I’m here.” I said, with confidence.
“I’m here because I’m getting paid 90k a year to make sure some fat cat doesn’t get shot in the back. Guess you’ve just got a heart for the cause.” He gave one final laugh. I sighed, and stopped talking politics. Instead turning my gaze out the window of the limo again. We were fully in downtown Baltimore now, congestion, run down neighborhoods and all. Streaks of light and humanity flooded past the window, because Vince knew how to put pedal to the metal. Occasionally, we’d swerve ever slightly around another car, or take a corner pretty fast for a limousine, but I knew he was a professional. We were supposed to be headed to the Senator’s offices uptown, but for safety, we’d be on a detour. I sighed. I just wanted to get home, at this point. Soak my injuries even though I shouldn’t.
I lulled off for a moment, not asleep, but not awake fully either. When the Senator’s voice pulled me from my otherwise peaceful stupor. I pushed my annoyance to the side, and looked over towards him. The 20 something had moved to the other side, placing a call that didn’t sound important. So, Garrison’s attention was on me.
“…Sorry?” I asked, trying to seek some clarity.
“I said, what did the Detective say?”
I unbuckled from my chair, and moved over to the side of the limo that smelled of cigarette smoke and perfume, taking a seat across from my boss.
“Details still forthcoming. He’s more then eager to scrub our involvement, and call the Party tip line if he hears anything.”
“Good, good. Let’s take a look at our prize again, hm?” He made a gesture at the case, and folder, which I lifted. To no one’s great surprise, he ignored the written document, and instead, put in the code to open the case, and looked at the chip. I decided to take the initiative, and start looking through the folder. Unfortunately, I was quickly struck with an insurmountable wall, in the form of nonsense technobabble that I’d gotten a political science degree to avoid having to look at ever again.
I found names, but no grounding for who they were. Dates, without ideas for why they were significant. I put it down.
“Doesn’t make any sense to me. Might have to call in an expert.” I said, trying to not sound like I was admitting defeat to someone important.
“Wouldn’t be surprised if it was encoded. Tricky government spooks love their codes. All the same, this is big Oliver.”
He took the folder from me, closed the case, and placed the two together in my lap.
“It’s only eight months till November, but if I hurry, I could announce this and a presidential ticket on the same day. I’d need a VP and some solid talking points, but it could be done…” He trailed off, thinking to himself.
“I think you could pull it off, sir. This scandal, put the right way, will sink his reelection bid.” I said, with confidence.
“No doubt. Just have to get the facts, and get the details out there. I know a few technology enthusiasts, computer scientists, those types. I’d been considering Governor Bush for a Vice President.” He echoed my own confidence with some fairly solid vigor. “He’s got the Presidential Spirit, just a bit diluted. Perfect.” He was musing again.
“An inspired choice.” I didn’t like him, but hey, anything to court the disenfranchised people who listened to Mr. Word nonstop.
“Exactly! We’ll start tonight, make some calls, ensure the Maxx incident is smoothed over, the works. Can I have you late tonight?” He said, finally looking in my direction.
“Of course.”
The second worst thing to happen to me tonight.
“Excellent! I knew I could count on you, Oliver. Would you rather be Attorney General, or Secretary of the Treasury?”
I blinked.
“Sir?”
“Bah, you’re right, I’m not in office yet. Soon, though. Soon. Mark my words.”
That remark alone made the rest of the limo ride feel like the blink of an eye. Soon enough, Vince pulled us into the parking garage, and sealed the gate behind us, in the strange instance where someone had managed to follow his erratic driving. The car’s speed moved to a crawl as we slowly wound around and around, near to the top where it entered into the shared offices.
And then. The car stopped…and started to reverse, quickly.
“Vince?” Garrison called out, intensely. “The hell are you doing?”
“Making an exit, si-“
His voice was cut off by the sound of a loud pop, and the car suddenly swerved, striking a support pillar. The car shook. Garrison spilled to the floor, since he hadn’t been wearing his seatbelt.
“Shit, front tire-” I heard Vince, at a less amicable volume.
Garrison stood up. I unbuckled, and did the same, grabbing the case. Horace moved to open the door first, the 20 something stayed near the back.
“Ah. Shit.”
Horace said, raising his firearm.
“You!” He shouted, at someone unseen. “Hands on the ground!”
Meanwhile, myself and Garrison saw fit to exit out the other side-the woman scrambled out on her hands, and then took off running. Bitch.
Though, when I turned around, I couldn’t really blame her.
The woman standing there was tall. Taller then me. She had a stocky build, and rugged looking features that looked like someone had taken their fist or a knife to a couple of times. She had a pale complexion, but tanned with years of sun, sunken out slightly. Her eyes stared ahead at us, not even looking at Horace and his gun. Looking around her, she had an honest to god tail…and not to mention, the cowboy ensemble. Boots, hat, the works. It would be absurd, if it wasn’t very real. And if it weren’t for the most striking part about her, which was the blood down her front, and it’s source, the two severed heads she held in her grasp. My eyes almost glazed over them, to avoid my brain the shock of the eyes still wide, the necks with parts of spine, congealed blood across them. Nothing to be said for the fact that I knew these faces, I had just seen them, and now they were…this.
So much for throwing Cross a bone. The most unhelpful thought of them all pushed itself across my mind, and I almost laughed out loud. Myself and Garrison began to move out from the other side of the car, cautiously. This woman, whoever she was, didn’t take her eyes off me.
Horace moved forward, surpassing the front of the limo, his gun raised.
“Last warning! Get on the ground, or I’m opening fire!”
He was somehow holding firm, holding brave, despite everything. How the hell was he doing it? It almost inspired something a little bit in me, as I took a few steps forward. Looking over, I saw the elevator doors. they’d be on this floor, we’d left long after it closed earlier tonight. All I had to do was push the button, and we were home free.
The woman spoke, just before Horace was sure to shoot. She dropped the severed heads, which landed with an unfortunate sound I wished I’d gone my whole life without hearing.
“The case. Give it over, and you’ll all live. Cling to it, and I won’t even leave your skulls.”
Her voice was gravely, low, but dead serious. Oh god, she was serious. Thankfully, for the first time in my life, I was glad to hear a gun shot. Three, rapid succession. The woman had blood spurt from her front, and fell back to the ground, motionless.
“Get to the elevator, I’m calling the-“
Horace said that, as I had begun to move, and Garrison was only a step behind. Unfortunately, for all of us, things weren’t done.
I heard a rattling noise. I looked over. The woman’s tail had twitched. Once, twice, then three times into a steady drone of a rattle. She had a snake tail, I realized, as she stood up again. Horace was quick on the draw, with three more shots, but it wasn’t enough, as the rattling grew to a whine, a signal to an unknown and discordant mass of monsters.
I had nearly reached the elevator when the limousine flipped, faster then I ended up following it. It slammed into the wall, and I heard Garrison fall hard, on the ground, as I stopped, foolishly, and turned back around. The woman was fully upright now, walking towards Horace. She wasn’t alone anymore. Where the car had been was a creature that I comprehended as a snake, with golden brown scales, a giant circular head, and slit eyes, it was bigger then the car it had just flipped. It wasn’t the only one. Appearing on the woman’s arm was a giant, beautiful canary the size of a condor, it’s impeccable yellow feathers almost distracting from the fact that it’s eyes were on me specifically. And then, at her side, was a truly giant wolf, bigger then I’d ever seen, with silver fur, and a scar down one eye.
Horace was backing up and shooting, Garrison was trying to free his bloody mess of a leg from beneath the wreckage of the car, the woman had long since run, and Vince was paste in the drivers side.
“Oliver-help-I’m-” Garrison began, but my eyes were fixated, in terror, on the woman.
“Fido, swallow. Alice, fetch. Caspian, take it.”
She spoke those orders with grim confidence, as she moved her head to the side of another bullet. And when she issued the last one, she pointed at me. The canary spread it’s legs, I ignored my dying boss, even as a giant serpent lunged towards him, and ran for the elevator. I jammed my finger on the button, as the canary dove it’s beak into my right shoulder, and started to tear. I yelled out in pain, swinging the case up, striking the bird, but not budging it as it tore and ripped with talons that I was fairly certain canary’s shouldn’t have, which was another unhelpful tidbit my mind provided me in a moment of lethality. I swung the case again and again, barely noticing that I had dropped the folder, sliding across slick ground somewhere unknown.
I felt a crash nearby me, as the doors to the elevator began to open, and I gave one more slamming strike with the case, enough to knock the bird off balance, as I stumbled backwards into the waiting entryway. I’d destabilized things just enough, I hoped, as I slammed into the back wall, finally free of the bird’s insidious grasp, as it flew back a pace or two, effortlessly taking flight. It was a moment of slow, agonizing repose. I’d scattered my own blood across the stainless elevator floor, and brought the case to a denting crash by my side. The bird was diving back around, intent on skewering me at the speed it was going. The snake was currently swallowing Garrison’s top half, and struggling to do so, an image that would have been darkly funny were I not about to die. The wolf was dragging Horace’s shattered, broken, and dismembered body towards the woman, his gun abandoned very far away. And then there was her, slowly walking towards the open doors, her tail still rattling into a sound that shouldn’t be deafening with everything else going on. She stepped atop the fallen folder, and prepared to watch me die.
Not today.
In a moment of strength and speed that was somehow able to be mustered in my current circumstances, I slammed my foot, slick with blood, but still finding footing, into the elevator panel, striking my heel into the button to close the doors. The woman noticed the doors closing, and picked up speed, as I left the bird a choice: Try and slide through closing metal doors, or abandon descent.
Smart for an animal, it chose the latter, curving upwards into a swoop. And the woman, as fast as she was, couldn’t beat the machine. The doors slammed shut, and I just as quickly scrambled to push the button for the fourteenth floor, where the senator’s office was. I wouldn’t have long to get in there, call the police, and hide. Hell, probably calling the OAA would be the best, considering the freakshow I’d just left. They’d clean this up real quick, I hoped. I was bleeding really badly, and couldn’t move my right arm, but I had always been left handed, to the chagrin of my school year teachers.
I tried to push to my feet, and after a few attempts, succeeded. My left hand was still in cold grip of the case, and I finally released, allowing it to clatter to the ground. I could have sworn I heard more noises, crashes and booms somewhere below me, but they were a whole other world now, far, far away. I forced myself to stay standing, because I knew that if I sat back down, I’d devolve into tears and not get back up. But I had a job to do. I was avoiding thinking about how I’d seen five more corpses then I’d ever seen in my life tonight. Or anything else. I was still a man with survival instincts, and I still had a chance. Call the police, make sure it was safe, find a hospital. Look for a first aid kit in the office along the way. A simple plan. The elevator doors finally opened, after a time that was too short and too long. I grabbed the case, and hurried into the dark of the office.
All of the lights on the floor had been shut off prior to us leaving. The faint hum of one of the refrigerators, and the smell of the religious applications of air freshener that assaulted by senses almost make me puke, between those, and the pains, and the cold that was spreading up my body. I moved to the place I knew had a first aid kit, the senator’s private bathroom. His office had been left unlocked, as usual, so I slipped inside, and started rummaging around in the dark, not bothering to go for the light switch.
Eventually, I found the kit, and laid myself down on the love seat in the office, no doubt bleeding over the nice cushions. I winced, and started what I could. Putting bandages and disinfectant on smaller wounds, swallowing some painkillers, and wrapping everything else haphazardly. Slow, bloody work. Throughout, I would hear the sound of crashes, and shifting movements below me somewhere. Each one almost made me jump, and I cursed aloud each time. Some kind of sanity keeping measure, I guess. Eventually, though I ran out of supplies, in the kit, and was spilling less vital red all over so, I stood up, grabbed the bottle of bourbon the Senator kept in the lower left drawer, swallowed some, and walked over to the phone, anchored to the wall. I was still moving slow, but I had enough numbed the pain that I no longer jumped when the building so much as creaked. I put my hand on the receiver, and smiled, before calling 9.1.1.
It rang three times. Then, someone finally picked up, the tenseness I felt leaving part of my body at the recognition of my effort.
“Oliver Pietro Elliot.”
I had been prepared to put emotion back into my voice, to demand an ambulance, the police, maybe the national guard. To declare the senator’s death like the next national tragedy. But when the grainy sound of a woman’s voice over the other end said my full name, before I could even speak I froze. I didn’t say anything. I almost hung up. But for some reason, I didn’t. I kept the receiver pressed to one ear.
“You’re in incredible danger, aren’t you?”
This spurred me out of stunned silence, for the most part anyways.
“-Who are you, how did you know that? I need help over here, send someon-“
I began my various demands, at a stilted, and emotional pace. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She cut me off, easily.
“I would be happy to help you, Oliver. Do you have the chip with you?”
Her dead and scratchy tone might have been a bad connection, or the phone in the office being old. But it gave me a foreboding, cold feeling down my spine.
“…Who are you?” I pressed again, with renewed, less manic confidence.
“Do you want to bleed to death over the next few hours? Do you want to be eaten alive? Do you want to be thrown into a Banality Center? If the answer to these is no, you’ll answer my questions. Do you. Have. The chip?”
The chill expanded. I was almost shaking in place, as pathetic was it was. Which probably fueled the answer I gave.
“I have it! I have it, ok?! Why do you even care?”
I practically shouted out my answer, my collected demeanor crumbling under the even small amount of pressure. I guess it had been a long night.
“Good. Stay on the line, and I can help you. Have you touched the chip? Damaged it?”
Despite my better judgement, I stayed on the line. Everything in my rational judgement said I should hang up, and try calling 9.1.1 on another phone. Or go to another floor. Anything but this.
But I ignored it.
“No. It’s still intact. Look, the Senator is dead, I don’t want it, I don’t need it. It’s yours if you just send some damn help! There’s monsters here, freaks all around. I’m going to need a new job anyways so just-“
I let myself get cut off this time.
“And do you have the stolen files?”
Her voice was still cold.
“The what?” I asked, dumbly.
“There were files taken along with the chip. Detailing it’s creation, it’s purpose, all of it. Do you have them?” Her tone had a faint condescending edge to it that brought annoyance to my lips.
“Why do you care? Look, send some help, and I’ll give you anything! Until then, I’m done talking!”
I slammed the receiver into the wall as hard as I could, and the line went dead. I took in a long breath, and turned around to go find another love seat to ruin, while I wanted for potential, hypothetical help to arrive. Worst come to worst, I could wait till dawn and try and make a break for it, when people were out and about on the street to help me. I had options. The woman on the phone was wrong about me bleeding out, I felt fine, considering circumstances. I had time. I could wait.
Of course, that was dashed, when I turned around, and noticed I was no longer alone in the space.
They were mostly shrouded in darkness. I couldn’t make out if they were a man or a woman. They had something in their hands, electronic, and whirling, and had long hair that hung off the back of the chair the receptionist was normally seated in. The only light cast over their body from the other skyscrapers and streetlights out the window behind them, glinting off golden lines that went down their body, almost reminding me of the chip. I made out dark skin, and maybe grey eyes.
“You asked why I cared, Oliver?”
The same woman’s voice. I froze. Taking a step back against the wall, clutching the case that was still in my left hand, white knuckled. I didn’t take my eyes off of them.
“It’s because I made it.”
A different voice, a man’s voice, coming from the same person, like tuning to a different station on a radio. It freaked the hell out of me, but I didn’t say anything, and just stood there.
“You wanted help. Here I am. Are you going to give me the chip, and the files now?”
A different voice then before, a less gruff man. They smiled. All of their teeth were silver, glinting in the same way the strange gold lines did.
“…You’re the Wand? The one who made the chip?” I finally mustered the courage to speak, pressed against the wall like this.
“You’re rude for a dying man.” They tilted their head, that line sounding straight out of a twelve year old girl’s mouth. “I made the chip. It’s my life’s work. How, isn’t the point. Give it to me, if you would.” An older woman’s voice this time.
I gritted my teeth together. But, if they could really help me, I’d work with a Wand any day. I sighed, and took a few steps forward, now facing them from the front. They looked at me, as I noticed now, that those grey eyes glowed in the dark. They held out their hand, expectantly.
“…I don’t have the files. I dropped them when that psycho ladies bird attacked me. They should be on the garage level. Or she has them. But she was dressed like a cowboy, and had a pet anaconda, or some shit, so she can’t be that hard to find.”
I spoke through near gritted teeth. Which stopped, when I paused. The elevator was coming up. Help? Or someone here to kill me? I banked it all on that first one, and kept talking. If they heard the same thing I did, they didn’t show.
“But, if you made it, you probably don’t need whatever was in those files, right?”
I said with a thin smile. Maybe…
“It’s a matter of security. You understand this, working-or, apologies, having worked for Senator Garrison. I can’t just have my documentation of my life’s work in anyone’s hands. But it’s out of yours, now, so no matter.” A jovial sounding woman’s voice, as she made a ‘tsk’ sound.
“Fair, I guess. I don’t suppose you’re hiring?” I gave my best lopsided smile, as if I wasn’t sure if I was joking. And apparently, to my credit, they laughed. Long, and loud. Just as the elevator began to open behind me, and I fully grinned. I saw as the smile on their face fell away, and they pointed at me, with one, long finger, that seemed to end in a blade.
“No. I don’t need you for anything else then cover.” Said Senator Garrison’s voice. And that’s when I tried to turn, but was stopped halfway. The tip of her finger protruded like a spike, and lunged forward, piercing into my midsection, and continuing forward like a bullet, ripping through my body with ease, and a sickening puncturing noise, like a pen into gelatin.
Then it exited my body, and I fell.
The faint crackling, the sound of metal, and the fast movement in my peripheral vision was nothing compared to the encroaching darkness from all sides that quickly swallowed my perceptions.
————————————————————————————-
It was a strange location, when I opened my eyes. The sky was green, lined with grooves and lines of various metallic colors. Faint blips and bubbles clouded my vision, as I blinked my eyes open, and forced them to perceive my environment.
I was sitting on a rough mound of gravel, looking down, now, at a landscape made up of that gravel, or what looked like gravel. Granules of silt and stone, that seemed to glitter in light that I wasn’t sure where it came from. Throughout the landscape, I saw people, laying down on the ground as if dead, looking up at the sky. I felt awful, but I forced myself to my feet anyways, and walked down the hill, where I realized I’d been standing in the shade of a tree that looked to be made from interwoven copper wires, into branches of electricity that silently fluctuated back and forth.
I was unnerved, but kept walking. I cast my gaze to the horizon, where I saw more hills, more strange trees, and far in the distance, massive shapes that looked like mountains, but moved, brushing the strange green sky as they did. I kept my gaze low, and found my first person. Who reached up towards me, despite their eyes being gone, and blank voids being all that was left, and the wired filaments that ran through and under their skin. I moved the next person, partially sunken into the ground, in a similar condition. The next, who still had one eye, and muttered the words “Help me”. I left them with none. My heart pounded, as I realized no one quite had the same faculties that I did, and that there was more movement under and through the strange gravel then my footsteps could possibly account for. I took off into a run.
The ground quaked just that bit too much beneath my feet. The amount of people, laid into the earth, began to dwindle, until I sprinted through empty, unremarkable fields. I realized I was running towards those titanic shapes in the horizon, but I didn’t care, anything to get me away from the horrors that I had just seen. My memory was wracked with a hole as to how I got here, how I had arrived in this place, how I could escape. I looked from horizon to horizon, until I realized that I didn’t have a name, and I hadn’t the faintest as to why any of this was possibly familiar. The horror set in, and then the exhaustion, and then my will eroded away. I couldn’t run, so I sat, and then I laid, and then I felt the piercing and writhing. I felt something move under my eyes and push them out, and I felt something interface into my soul. Slowly, I began to sink, until…
For a moment, I could see again. It was like being underwater, with the surface rippling just above me. But the light that shone down was a sickly blue, and I wasn’t submerged in water. It was something else. It felt heavier, and I was sinking, past other humans, one after another, and other masses of wires, other masses of machinery, intact and not corroded by any liquid as I sank past them all, toward some unseen center. I tried to thrash, I tried to scream, but I had lost all control of my own body, eventually striking something solid behind me. I began to be pulled into something, a warmth filling my whole body.
My memories vanished, and I could barely thing, as if they were pouring out of me, and draining into something else. Names, faces, events, sciences, all swirling away from me, in strands of color, now woven into the wires that I realized now encircled me. And then, for a moment, I saw again. A single golden wire, pushing itself up from unknown depths of this strange warm space, striking me through the center, in a sensation that felt grossly familiar. For a moment, I felt grounded in context. There were people fighting just above me, there was a woman trying to kill me, I needed to find a new job.
All of those things had bearing for one, gravitational moment, before slowly and surely, green film covered my entire body, and those things simply ceased to be. For an amount of time I wasn’t sure I could grasp, I was adrift.
And then pain, clarifying pain, everything that it meant to be alive, memories, sensations, impulses, came back to me in the moment of my death, as I stared upwards at a man with eyes black as night, a bloody blade at his side. He was pulling the case out of my grip, and I limply contested him, our of sheer muscle memory. My own blood was the only remotely warm thing around, and the woman who had spilled it was nowhere to be found. There was a brush of cold air, from the nearby broken window into the Baltimore skyline.
He managed to get the case from me. It wasn’t hard. We stared at each other for a few moments, wordless.
“I’m sorry.”
He said, before turning to leave, and darkness swallowed everything that I was.
Kindling And Miscellany 