Creative Writing: Mixed Signals – Tales from New Fare City Vol. 1
Mixed Signals – Tales from New Fare City Vol. 1
By Ryan R3C
Synopsis: In the shadows of toxic air and a broken economy, in a bustling city in the 22nd century lives a boy down on his luck. Using his creative ingenuity, he pieces together a unique piece of equipment to take back control over his life and the things around him.
Content Warning:
Violence, Drug Use, Self Harm, Death
Chapter 1
The streets were buzzing to the tune of the usual misfits of the night, the shadows crept between doorways and stoops that lined the city street. Arwen’s head hung low as he strode down the dingy sidewalk, his hands gripping keys firmly between his fingers and shoved in his tattered sweater’s pockets, his eyes and feet carving a path down the moon lit sidewalk through the trash and grime. After a few winding streets, he stops at a dilapidated building sitting in the shadow of barely standing warehouse with a huge sign that read CONDEMED – Property of New Fare City.
“Home sweet home,” he sighed.
He stepped on to the building’s stoop, fitting one of the keys into a mailbox with a faded nameplate that read “Dalby” that was hanging by a screw. He pulled out a grip of soggy letters with the words notice, final warning, and IMPORTANT stamped across them. He made his way upstairs, flying through his apartment door and made a beeline straight to his room, throwing his bag to the corner, stretched out his arms and fell back onto raggedy old bed laying on top of stacks of carboard, falling asleep to sound of distant screams, sirens, and bottles breaking.
“Where the fuck is my money, you little puke!”
A lump of a man stood towering over him, the shimmer of the morning sun peaked gently between the boarded windows, highlighting his father’s double chin and sunken eyes nearly perfectly.
“Let me guess, you don’t have any, right? Oh, but you sure have enough for all this other bullshit around here!” his father said, waving his hands wildly towards the shelves of scrap mechanical and electrical parts. He swiped his hand across his Arwen’s desk, knocking over more parts, pictures, and knick-knacks.
“Stop! I just- I’ll get it, oka-?”
His cheek wabbled from a halfhearted slap from his father’s pudgy hand followed behind a menacing stare that carved into him before slamming the door behind him.
Arwen walked over to his desk, apathetic to exchange that happened and picked up the scrap and broken pieces. He picked up an old frame with gold paint peeling from the corners with a black and white photo of a beautiful woman sitting peacefully in a blossoming garden with the light behind her, illuminating her like an angel. He rubbed his thumb against the glass, longing for a moment to be transported back to another time. He placed the picture frame next to a small fish tank on his desk.
“I know Frank, we’re both stuck in a place far too small. We’ll be out of here soon though, don’t you worry.” The blue betta let out a bubble almost in agreement and swam back into the darkness.
Chapter 2
The hot August day forced the people in the neighborhood to move like cockroaches, moving shadow to shadow to stay out of direct sun. The central temperature gauge and toxicity severity meters loomed in the distance on the top of huge towers that pierced through a dense fog of a mildy toxic atmosphere. Usually when it is over 110 degrees most people would wear goggles from letting the chemical vapors from burning the edge of their eyelids, but there wasn’t a goggle in sight, the city was frolicking and brave today. Not to be upstaged by a random junkie, Arwen threw his goggles in his shoulder bag and walked down the streets, through alley ways, and over fences, heading into the heart of the city.
He reached downtown and stopped at unappealing and plain tan building with no windows and a dying plant outside the front door. His watch chimed a small tone as he arrived for his state appointed therapy session. The door opens and he taps a button next to a secondary door. The rattle of pipes and compressed air squeal behind the dingy yellowed wall and as the button blinks red. Buzzzz. He holds his breathe, plugs his nose, and squeezes his eyes closed as a quick blast of spray that smells like hospitals linens and alcohol comes from all angles. The door opened and he is greeted with a friendly smile from the receptionist.
“Come on in Mr. Dalby, Ms. Garcia will be right with you,” said the receptionist. Arwen smirked, nodded his head, and forced his eyes to the ground and tiptoed in. Ms. Garcia’s short and frail frame stood silhouetted in the door across the room.
“Ready!” the voice echoed through the drab hallway, snapping Arwen out of a hazy stare at his shoes.
He plops down into a weathered faux leather brown chair, his eyes gazing over the same familiar tacky artwork, kids’ drawings, and her collection of yesteryears fast food toys.
“Hey Arwen, how are you doing today?” said Ms. Garcia, walking behind her desk and taking a seat.
“Good as usual, you know, the same old same old.”
“Right, that’s what I was worried about.”
“Oh, come on, you’ve known me for years, I haven’t had an episode in months. I’ve been really good lately.”
“I know, but these things take time.”
“I don’t have time. I think your keeping me here because you’re starting to like me or something. I can’t get out of this rat hole city until you rubber stamp my forehead with ‘sane’, can’t we just get this over with?”
“Rules are rules. You are making such great progress, let’s not take a step back and get stuck in the details. I am only here to help. How’s the job search going?”
“Nothing yet, I’ve been looking but everything is either boarding up or being replaced by a bot store which eventually gets boarded up a few months later.”
“Automatons. They prefer automatons, no need to be rude.”
“Of course.”
“And your projects?”
“Any progress is good progress, right?”
“Right.”
“I’ve been having a lot of luck lately in the scrap yards, a lot of functional and valuable parts to scrounge through. I’ve been writing some papers and making blueprints to send to the state universities and looking for scholarships, I really think 2101 will be my year.”
“I’m sure it will, you’re a bright kid with a long road ahead of you. And your father?”
“Still an asshole.” Ms. Garcia gives him purses her lips together and gives Arwen a sharp look, he smirks and nods his head and gently guides the conversation to friendlier, surface level topics.
Chapter 3
Arwen decides to throw on his goggles this time under the midday heat, the faint flash of 124 degrees lights up the smog above the city. He made his way back through the snaking alley ways of downtown, trying to avoid any interactions with the police or anyone for that matter.
He turned on Barren Street and saw his favorite sign in the distance. Bud’s Trash and Things, his home away from home, a church with no god whose followers worshipped the remnants of the forgotten. Every electronic device that ever sat in a store’s front display now sat here, rotting away in piles, or waiting to be recycled. The sheet metal and scrap walls guarded the yard from intruders, but people would have a harder time getting out than in with all the junk piled up. The air and dirt around it had an acidic quality to it, a slight twinge of orange juice and rust that was unsettling yet charming. A lonely and dingy shack welcomed visitors into the entrance.
“Hello? Tara? Anyone?” said Arwen while knocking on the frame of the window.
Tara’s big beautiful blue eyes, matching hair and slightly pale olive skin came creeping out the darkness, a small grease smudge below her right eye made the color pop and radiate like the final moments of a dying star, one breathtaking boom that could power civilizations for centuries.
“Hey Ari! I didn’t see you there. I didn’t think you were coming in today?”
“Oh, the interviews downtown only took a little bit, barely made it out by the skin of my neck.”
“Those college recruiters are really hunting you down, huh?”
“Oh yeah, I’m a real Einstein. Anything new come in?” he said blushing slightly under his lie.
“Just the local mechanic dump, I think some moving company dropped of some bot parts earlier.”
“Automatons Tara, they like to be called automatons.”
Tara rolled her eyes and let out a chuckle.
“Yeah, sure, whatever helps you sleep better. Come on, I’ll take you over to it.”
“Great, did you see that new store closed down already? It opened two weeks ago, how they managed to do that is impressive.”
“Yeah, they really need to figure out that whole intelligence part of artificial intelligence. Here we are, feel free, give me a ring if you need any help.”
Arwen tore through the junk in the pile, pulling out various plugs, buttons, switches, oscillators, potentiometers, and capacitors and threw them in a canvas bag. An automaton head sat on top of the pile looking straight at him with long wires hanging from the jaw. The PPS plastic shell of the service android peered deeply into the void with a thousand-yard stare with its sunken LED eyes. Arwen pulled a set of cables from the pile while staring back into the service android’s eyes, suddenly another head came rolling down the pile letting out a spine chilling high frequency chirp causing the rest of the head’s eyes around him to let out a quick flash.
“Tara! I think I have an idea!”
Chapter 4
He raced back home, up the stoop, skipping multiple stairs at a time and nearly breaking through door as he ran to his room. The daytime is the only chance he gets to work, after sunset his dad gets home, and it is better if he’s not around. He scatted the contents of the canvas bag across his table, pulling the soldering iron, oscilloscope, and various other instruments from his shelves and giving Frank a welcoming tap on his glass and a wave.
Bubble.
In a fury, a slew of wires appeared before him, moving every which way to and from a bread board with LEDs occasionally light up as he adjusted settings, he connected a vintage EEG cap that measured brain waves, sending it to the board. More wires connected the two devices which eventually ended up looking like a bowl of electrical spaghetti.
He placed the cap on his head and began to start moving his whole arm, keeping an eye on the device and one on the oscilloscope waiting for a stable pattern and adjusting for noise in the waves. A small beep let out from the tangled ball of cable and finally, a clear and stable signal emerged while lifting his arm and stopped as soon as he let it down. He leaped from his chair causing the way the waves to move rapidly on the device.
“We did it, Frank! Ok, ok, ok, ok… now what?”
He sat back down, collected his breathe and stared at his computers screen with deep concentration and began the arduous task of recording and adjusting for each movement from his elbow to wrist, wrist to fingers, and every other part of his body until he has recorded all data down to the joints on his toes. He spent the rest of that day programming on his laptop as the red glow of sunset chiseled the profile of his lean face and roman nose out from the background of his room.
He scavenged through his boxes of junk and picked up a small toy robot he built from miscellaneous parts from other androids. He connected a small satellite looking piece to the board and aimed it directly at the robot and gave a quick flip of his wrist and the robot jumped to life for a second, hopping up a couple inches on the desk and landing on its side.
“It worked, it actually worked, how—”
He began moving different body parts, watching the robot jump, rattle, and light up with different combinations of movements.
A buzzing sound goes off on his watch as the time hits 8:30 pm, only a half hour left until his dad gets home from his job at the purifier plant. He packs the away the device into a crawlspace in his closet and makes his way out to the city street to roam for the night.
***
The usual suspects were around the neighborhood. Tracy paced between the signs and the street, he was a middle-aged man with a disheveled look and always had a bad attitude and an addiction issue that matched. Jerry and Joe were in their usual areas and were an inseparable, they would roam all night collecting trash and recyclables for cash, Joe always had the picker stick and Jerry always carried the bags. Arwen spotted Marcy off into the distance, singing and swaying back and forth, dancing under the lamp light on the park bridge. She had the most beautiful voice when she was high, the wind would get soft and you could hear her singing a block away. It seemed like the whole block fell asleep a little easier those nights.
It was around 11:30 when Arwen made his way past the park and headed towards the sewers where one of his best friends Eric was waiting around.
“Hey Eric, how’s it going tonight?”
“Oh shit, look who the rats dragged in.”
“Yeah, I know, I Haven’t had much time to sleep lately, what’s everyone up to?”
“Kids are mostly sleeping now, those little shits were up all day running around the station, playing baseball with glass bottles. Glass bottles, can you fucking believe it? Almost lost an eye when Jakey slammed one down the line, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little proud, if that was a field it would have been out of there. The junkies are doing junkie things, you can’t control those monsters, I love them but unfortunately life has been unfortunate to them.”
“Speaking of control, how are you doing?”
“Oh, you know. I’m good. I keep getting those awful fucking dreams though, every night I wake up sweating thinking the trains have started up again and all the kids and the rest are on the tracks sleeping, I know the subways have been down for years, but I just can’t shake these dreams. I’m been taking some sleeping aids but they’re haunting.”
“Believe me, this city isn’t putting a half of a dime into getting anything running again unless its whore house for the mayor or a weapon cache for the police. You mind if I head in and get some rest?”
“Yeah, I know. Don’t ask, we’re family. Holler if you need anything.”
Chapter 5
Beep Beep Beep.
Arwen’s alarm goes off and he hopped out of the makeshift bed of cardboard and trash and raced home from the sewer. He pulled the device from the crawlspace and gets back to work. Playing with the robot again, making it jump and shake but under control, with a sense of purpose.
“It’s finished!” He screams as he leaps from his chair and quickly throws everything in his bag and runs towards the door, heading to his favorite place and his favorite person.
***
“Tara! Tara! Where are you?”
“Right here, spaz. What’s up?” she said coming around the corner sporting a greasy yet classically fit looking coveralls.
“How about some lunch?”
“Um, you know, I really can’t today, I don’t get paid till the end of the week and you know – “
“It’s on me! You have to see this.”
“A free meal is a free meal.” She turns, putting one hand to the side of her face and yells into the darkness of the shack, “Hey Bud! I’m going to lunch!” An approving groan came from somewhere in the back.
Arwen motioned her to follow and him and Tara take off down the street. They walk a couple blocks away and stop at an intersection across the street from a newly built hamburger joint.
“Wow Arwen, The Meet Hook, you sure know how to treat a girl.”
“Nothing but the best for my dear friend. Here, hold this for a second.” Arwen hands her the backpack and unzips it as he carefully removes the cap and places it on his head, he placed a small transmission dish on his middle finger and fastens it with some elastic, he pulled everything back, keeping the core of the components in the backpack, letting the wires hang down his neck and puts on a hoodie to not look suspicious.
“Christ, what the fuck is that? You look like a shitty B-horror movie character. It finally happened, hasn’t it? You officially lost your mind.” She chuckles giving him a slap on the shoulder.
“It’s our ticket to free meals for life, let’s go.”
“Were not getting arrested are way? I’m not spending the rest of my life in the Wash for a lab burger.”
“Probably not?” he said uncertainly.
They walk to the ordering window and the androids face at the counter stares vacantly back at them and suddenly springs to life and greets them.
“Hello! Thanks for joining us at The Meet Hook! What can I get for you today?” The androids face screen lights up with cartoonish eyes, shifting colors and shape, giving an unearthly and uneasy wide smile.
“Let me get two large Moral Meals, no onion on one of the Ethic burgers, and Shooters cola for both.”
“Absolutely sir, will that be all?”
Arwen nods as he positions one hands on the counter, pointing the transmission disk directly at the android head.
“You’re total will be—”
Arwen presses a button in the palm of his hand and shifts his jaw and slightly jars his neck to the side. The androids screen quickly flashed a series of colors, Arwen moved his other hand and the android shakily mimics his movements. Slowly but surely Arwen moves his fingers in front of him, pretending to press buttons on the android’s POS system and type in an amount of money received. The android face still flashing follows suite and they both close the sale. As Arwen released the button in his hand the android pops back to life without a beat.
“Thank you for your order! Please remember to collect your change from the box below. We will call you as soon as it’s ready!”
Tara stood there with her jaw hanging open, her big blue eyes wide enough you could almost see every vessel surround them. “You really did lose your mind.”
Chapter 6
Arwen paced back and forth in his room, thinking of the everything that went on that day. He kept shaking his head, still in shock that it actually worked. He thought surely, he would be caught eventually. Someone walking around with a hoodie in the middle of 100-degree heat and clenching his neck and face like he’s having a withdraw will likely be suspicious. Like the great engineer he was he kept thinking of ways to improve it. The idea struck him like lightning.
He could engineer the device to detect two different frequency of waves with a switch of button. What he thought of before as background noise in the waves, weren’t noise at all but micro signals being sent from his brain. Signals that showed smaller muscle movements, even as miniscule as a small smirk, a frown, or clenched teeth. He thought at the very least it would make it less obvious will using it.
He set up a camera and connected the device. He had some old code laying around for some facial recognition software he wrote sometime in high school to keep his bedroom door locked unless it was him. He dug out an old How to Draw Comics book and went over every facial expression in it, and every range within each one. From slightly startled to sheer terror, slightly disturbed to extreme happiness, his face contorted in a myriad of ways, adjusting the sensitivity, recording each one till patterns emerged once again. He felt foolish even thinking this would work, even having Frank as an audience member was almost too much embarrassment.
He placed his test robot back on his desk and hooked a second transmission disk and button to his right hand and pointed it directly at him. He squinted his eye and pressed the button in his hand and the robots leg shook. A smile shot across Arwen’s face and the robot began to dance back and forth, almost swaying with excitement. Each tiny leg began to hop up and down as he lowered and raised his smile, trying to keep from screaming from excitement.
In that moment he noticed something quite peculiar, suddenly Frank wasn’t acting like his usual self. Normally he would be in his rock cave, or depressingly floating near his plants. He was starting to swim in circles with an energy he has never seen from him, his gills flared rapidly as he trashed his tail in a fury and occasionally coming up for air. He wasn’t coming up for air. He was starting to build a bubble nest for mating. Frank was never the one to build a nest as he’s always been quite the sad fish but, in this moment, he was fully alive and happy.
Arwen scratched his head and was stuck in awe and bewilderment as he watched him build this nest. He caught a glimpse of the transmission disk in the reflection of the tank and it hit him like a ton of bricks. He was able to control his Franks emotions using the micro signals, in some way those frequencies must control the release of certain chemicals in his brain.
Arwen pressed the button in his right hand again and made the classic frowning clown face and in an instant Frank stopped dead in his tracks and went back to his usual routine and swam back into his rock cave. Arwen couldn’t bear to see him like that, it reminded him too much of himself. He aimed the transmission disk back at him and put on a big smile.
Chapter 7
Arwen stood out front of Ms. Garcia’s plain building again as the early morning sun tickled the back of his neck, the lingering scent bouquet of urine and chemicals filled the air, he could almost taste it on his tongue when he breathed in. He put on all his gear in preparation, luckily that day was slightly overcast, he didn’t look half as silly for wearing a hoodie. The receptionist let him after the quick spray down and he walked directly into Ms. Garcia’s office.
“Hey Arwen, you’re a little early.”
“I couldn’t wait to get started, it’s always a great day to see you.”
“How flattering, did your doctor put you on new meds?”
“No! I’m just feeling good today is all.”
“Well, that’s good to hear, what’s with the hoodie?”
“Well, it’s kind of embarrassing, I let a friend of mine give me a haircut and it’s… let’s just say it’s not great.”
“It can’t be that bad.”
“It is. I just feel more comfortable with it on.”
“Suit yourself, nice jewelry.”
“Oh, yeah. I was feeling a little crafty and thought, you know, why not make a fashion statement,” Arwen replied tapping the transmission disk against the arms of the chair.
“I love it. They’re interesting.”
“Ms. Garcia, I always wanted to ask you something. We’ve known each other a long time, and throughout all these years you’ve never mentioned your kids, but your office is covered with drawings of you and little ones and the homes. How come?”
“Well, if I can be transparent with you for a moment. The truth is, I don’t have any kids. A lot of young men come to me, much like yourself, and they didn’t grow up with much of a homelife or loving parents. In a way these drawings remind them of a life they never had. Some will feel a motherly bond between us, and it makes them easier to open up to me.”
Arwen leaned back into the chair, bringing his hand up to his chin and sat in silence, slightly biting the tip of his finger. He did see her as a mother figure in a way. There were many nights where he cried himself to sleep and the only thing to hold him over till morning was murmuring her reassuring words that everything would be okay. In a way he felt betrayed, she never specifically talked about having kids at all, or told him anything that would directly affect him, but in a single sweeping moment their entire relationship felt like a lie and the trust was broken. He was hurt, but he held back any outward emotions to show it.
“Oh, interesting. I guess I never thought of something on that deep of level before. That’s why you get paid the big bucks!”
She sighed with a chuckle. “Tell that to the government, I have a couple credit cards that need paid off.”
“Hey, Ms. Garcia, I don’t mean to bug you but, I brought by the release papers with me. I was thinking, it has been a long time now, and I very rarely have any episodes. I haven’t lashed out or been sad in months. Do you think you can sign me off now so I can move on from… all of this?”
She let out a deep sigh and rest her head to one side, letting her large hoop earring fall on her shoulder padded dress suit. Her wiry gray and brunette hair sat motionless, like she sat in zero gravity.
“I just don’t think that –”
Arwen squeezed the button in his right palm and put a giant smile on his face. Her eyes lit up like seeing an amusement park for the first time. An ecstatic energy coursed through her as a smile shot wide across her face.
“There’s… no reason not to…I suppose,” she said unsure but joyous manner as she straightened her head back in place, the fluorescent lights glimmered off her coffee-stained teeth.
“Great! I’m so happy you feel that way!” He pulled the papers from his hoodie and put them on her desk. A hint of confusion seemed to shoot back and forth in small burst across her face. Her eyebrows squishing together then launching upwards repeatedly. Arwen smiled widely again and held down the button as her smile and face began to stabilize into an uncomfortable joy.
She sat still for a couple seconds and Arwen decided to press the button in his left hand, lifting his arm up, mimicking pulling a pen out of the cup on her desk and followed suit. He released the button as soon as she picked one up and she finished signing the paper. Almost like pushing starting a car, she just needed a little motivation to get going.
“Thank you so much Ms. Garcia! You don’t understand how much this means to me!” he leaped from his chair; he could have hugged her in that moment if it wasn’t for all the debilitating diseases floating around. She sat there puzzled as the smile slowly started to fade from her face, her brows furrowing in a confusion as she brings her fingers to her temples. He skipped for the door not wasting a second for her to reconsider her motivated decision. Finally, he was free.
Chapter 8
Arwen had an extra skip in his step as he made his way to the sewers to get some rest. He dragged his hand across the graffiti covered walls, feeling the smooth texture dance under his fingertips, skipping his fingers over the breaks that showed decades of paint buildup. He peered beyond the gate of the sewer and was met with total darkness and the faint sounds of yelling, cheering, laughing and other forms of debauchery.
The sewer was a magical place for people that needed very little but gave everything. He never understood how a city that was powered by the hopeless, the people beneath it never gave up. Of course, there was your typical thieves, addicts, and criminals but they policed themselves and outcasted those who refused to participate in their community of rubble.
As he walked farther down into the sewer, the dank smell of stale water and feces blended together and permeated his nose. The occasional crudely constructed and mounted dim bulb flickered, lighting up the cables that showed the way to the main area. Occasionally, a smaller shimmer of light shined through a haphazard manhole blockade, lighting up remnants of old tents and housing that has long since been burnt down.
He stepped through a broken hole in the wall and into the main area. The dazzling array of lights hit his eyes like the Christmas tree they lit every year on Main Street. What was once a subway station was now a sprawling world of underdogs. The makeshift housings lined the walls from every side and corner.
Although it looked like heaps of trash, in a way it was meticulously organized and planned, with sections of bunked and elevated housing. Near the front, all the single adults lived in small shacks, some shared the space with others to fight off thievery or loneliness. They would sit around small fires all night reminiscing over the good old days while nodding out on their drug of choice. The middle had a small section of housing where couples stayed, these shacks were mostly maintained by the elders, many couples would come and go so often that the elders would let new couples stay there in there in exchange for food. Eventually one half of the couple would leave or die, and the other half would move on. The next day a new couple would move right in and pick up where they left off. The kids would sleep near the back in lightweight tents on stilted platforms to keep the rats and other creatures away. The parents had small shacks below them with the access hatch and ladder leading up to the kid’s tents. The back was reserved for the elders, they sat with each other for days on end like living antiques, no longer reminiscing of good old days, and were a prime source for jaded smiles and stories.
Erics house was in between the adults and the couples, it was a decent size for shack, constructed mostly of pallets and stolen street signs which had a corresponding story for each one. A ratty bed made of random clothe sat in one corner with an electric burner at the foot of it for heating food. A couple hooks hung from the ceiling for clothes and an odd collection of sunglasses and goggles he found in storm drains and bus stops. The walls were expertly decorated with a collage of the latest and greatest fashion and porno magazine cut outs. Arwen stepped through the door and Eric was turned with his back facing him.
“Hey Eric! Just came by to get some rest.”
“Hey Ar, give me a second, okay?” Eric half turned in his chair, facing a shoulder to Arwen and looking at him through the corner of his eye.
“Sure, I got some good news and I just wanted to come by and see what’s up. What’s that?” A metallic reflection from the shacks flickering bulb bounced from Eric’s hand.
“Oh, don’t worry about it, what’s the good news?”
“No. What do you have in your hand.”
Eric sighed reluctantly and faced Arwen with head down. “This—I—Yeah, I’ve just been thinking a lot Ar. I’m tired of thinking anymore.” Eric tossed a spoon and lighter on the table in front of him, juggling a ball of foil between his fingers in his other hand as he looks up at Arwen with the tears starting to well in his eyes.
“It’s been years. Why now? Is everything ok?”
“Do you remember when we were kids, and me, you, and Tara would go into downtown every day? We sat on those dusty corners as the bankers, lawyers and penthouse mistresses flowed in and out of offices like ants on a corpse. The same faces every day. We would wash the same cars, shine the same shoes, light the same cigarettes but at the end of the day, not a single person would remember us. We traveled like ghost in their city, an apparition of what could have been if they made the wrong choices.”
“We were just kids then. Things are getting better now.”
“Are they Ar? You know, that’s what I always loved about you. You never got held down or drug around by the bullshit. Always reaching out, even for a single strand of hope. I think it’s too late for me now though, I just want to sleep now.” Eric turned back around and focused on his desk as he picked the spoon up and dropped some water from a dirty cap into it, still rolling the aluminum ball in his other hand. “You can leave now if you want, you don’t have to watch, but I have to do it.”
A smile spreads across Erics face as he drops the kit from his hands. Two heavy tears roll down the sides of cheeks, breaking their way through his scraggly beard and thin layer of dirt. He spun around in his chair to look at Arwen with a twinkle in his eye and is met with Arwen’s arms sticking straight out, with the small disks pointed directly at him.
“What is that?” Eric said.
“This was the good news; you never have to be sad again.”
Chapter 9
The hot morning bled into the underground as Arwen shook the sleep from his eyes. He glances across the room and finds Eric still sleeping comfortably with the remnant of a smirk on his face. He figures it had to be around 8 am with the sewers that quiet. It was just him and the accompanying sound of distant drips from leaky pipes and the scurrying of rodents awake at this hour. He grabs his pack and the ball of tin foil on the desk and heads for the door.
The day greets him with a blistering sun once again. The stark difference between the sewers and the streets at this hour was always shocking. Cars race and weave around one another in the morning traffic, young kids have a stick fight with trash, while some kids are getting ready to go to school. The birds forcefully dole out a melancholy chirp. Arwen stands for a moment, breathing in the life of the city before heading off towards Bud’s.
Tara was already out front, welding together a little figure out of assorted pipes and parts.
“Who’s your friend?”
Tara jumped in fright, giving Arwen a small slap across the arm and laughing. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Does he make you jealous?” She wraps one arm around his bike handlebar shoulders and rests her cheek on his awkward oil can head as a bearing and spring eyeball shoots off 20 feet into the distance.
“He’s quite the performer. I can see the appeal.”
“What are you bugging me about today? If you’re looking for free parts I don’t think Bud is enough machine yet to use your little gizmo on him.”
“That’s why I’m bugging you actually. You have to see this. Come on.”
They make way towards the back of the yard where Tara clears the dust off a couple of tires and a tarp and they take a seat.
“I’ve made some changes. It’s slightly more advanced now,” he said while putting on the cap and transmission disks.
“Please don’t tell me it’s going to break my phone; I finally got this stupid thing syncing with my calendar.”
“No, but how about this?” He points a disk at her and puts on a pouty face and bashes his eyebrows together in sorrow. In an instant the gentle lines in her face start to give as her eyelids push up, forcing out large tears down the side of her face, her lip trembles in sadness. He presses both buttons this time and lets out a belt of laughter and she mirrors him perfectly, whipping back her head and holding her stomach and kicking her feet. He comes back to his natural position and puts a small smile on his face and let go of the button and looks at her with wide eyes and raised brows. Her face struggles for control as it tries to make sense of the situation till it finally comes to a stable scowl.
“I hated that Arwen! Don’t you ever do that to me ever again!”
“What? I’m—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry, I just wanted to show you what I made.”
“You shouldn’t be playing with people’s emotions like that! Who are you to decide how people should feel! We aren’t just some dumb bots you get to toy around with.” She stands up and stomps away leaving a trail of dust behind her work boots.
“Tara, I’m sorry!”
A backhanded middle finger poked through the dust as she turned a corner and disappeared from his sight.
***
Arwen made his way home with his brain rattling from confusion and regret. He stops in front of his apartment door and leans his head against the numbers and closes his eyes. “Just a little while longer and we’ll be out of here.” He opens the door and is greeted with the distinct smell of his father’s favorite whiskey, the tv blaring and blinking in the pitch-black room like a bug zapper. Through the darkness his father’s face is illuminated in the flashing blue, highlighting the burned-out cigarette hanging from his lip, yellow stained tank top, and sleeping eyes. He closed the door quietly behind him and jumps as his dad lets out a chainsaw like snore, he takes a deep breath and tip toes to his room.
He entered his room and noticed the lamp on his fish tank flickering and feels a crunch beneath his worn-out shoes. He pauses for a moment and looks around before switching on his light. He closes his eyes and flicks the switch. He opens them and he finds his room has been torn asunder. His hard work of various electronics ripped apart and spread across the floor. Piles of cables and boards that were once shrines to his dedication of science were now a trash heap. Piles of hand drawn blueprints and schematics were now crumpled into balls.
Out of the corner of his eyes the flashing fish tank catches his attention once again. “Frank…” he whispers under his breath as he steps over the piles of electronics. There lying motionless, Frank’s eye stares back at him as Arwen look down on him. His head slightly crushed in and jaw hanging ajar, floating peacefully in the water. He turns around as pure hatred and adrenaline courses through his veins, and heads for the living room.
“You did this? Why would you do this? Why would you kill my goddamn fish!”
His dad kicks off another loud snore and wakes up gasping for air, he looks at Arwen with a one eye closed and a nasty snarl from his chubby lip. “What the fuck are you doing home, I told you, you can’t be here while I’m here, you little shit!” He adjusted and shook in his seat, his cigarettes falling from his mouth as his dry mouth lips mash against another, pushing white chunks of saliva to the corner of his lips. “I did it because I can, it’s my house and if I don’t want your shit laying around and taking up space then it won’t. Your fish? I didn’t kill your fucking fish, you probably did it in one of your whiny ass ‘episodes’.”
Arwen takes a step forward toward, balling his fist at his waist as tears start to build in the corner of his eyes. “How could you do this to me! your own child!”
“My own child? I never even wanted you. It should have been you that died the day you were born. Instead, you took my angel, the only light in my life. Your smothering stench extinguished her flame. You were put here as my curse, my burden, my punishment from a hateful god. My last promise I made to your mother before she died was that I would take care of you, I regret it every day.”
Arwen takes another step forward, balling his other fist. In a single motion his dad lifts himself with one hand out of his chair, reaches back and slaps him across his face, causing the spittle to fly from Arwen’s lips. Arwen’s eyes and brows clench as he turns and heads back to his room.
“That’s right. Turn around and run. Just like you always do.” His father sunk back into his chair and leaned into the blue light from the tv.
Arwen’s silhouette appears back in his door frame with the fish tank flickering behind him. He takes a step forward.
“You’re done crying already?”
He takes another step forward.
“What are you going to do?”
He takes another step, the light from the tv to his left lights up the side of his face as he steps in front of it. He presses and holds the volume up button to 100%. The hair on the back of his neck rises as chills run down his spine.
“What in the fuck are you doing? You want another beating? What is that shit on your head?”
He steps forward and raises his hand and squeezes the button and begins walking forward. His dad’s feet stumble uncontrollably beneath him.
“What?”
He turns around, his arm stretched out in front of him as he tries to fight for control of his body, rapidly wiggling his fingers but his body isn’t responding. He walks forward into his room and sits on the edge of his bed as Arwen walks like his shadow behind him and sits next to him.
“I don’t know what you’re doing but you better stop. You are a spawn of everything unholy,” said his father, while he was trying to hold back tears.
Arwen’s hand mimics reaching out and his father pulls open the bed side drawer. The shine of service issue Beretta pistol catches the reflection of the moonlight peeking through the window. Arwen clenches his hand around the imaginary handle and rests his curled knuckles against his chin. Arwen hears the sound of teeth scratching metal and his dad sobbing next to him as he swings his index finger forward and squeezes.
The loud bang echoes through the small bedroom and joins the soundtrack coming from the tv. A soft splatter of blood hits the side of his face and the sound of springs give under the thud of his father’s body falling back. He releases the button, walks over to the tv and sits in the chair and lowers the volume. He breathes out a sigh of relief.
“It’s over.”
Chapter 10
As morning broke the initial adrenaline rush wore off, he stared at the tv the entire night but didn’t hear a single word. The sweat built up on his forehead and his heart began to race. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the shape of what used to be a living, breathing person. The realization finally set in that his dad, the last parent he had left, was dead; it was because of him. He jumped from the chair and rushed to his room to salvage any parts or blueprints that were remaining. He paced back and forth, trying to think of an alibi, although in the back of his mind he figured the police would never come.
I have my conservator release forms signed, I can say that after I told him I was leaving, I gathered my things and left. He went into a rage after and broke all the stuff I left behind and maybe the thought of being alone made him kill himself. That seems believable enough.
He spent the morning going between android owned Quik Grubs fuel stations, using the transmitter to buy items and food and return them a different one, putting away a decent little money cache for him to run. He eventually made his way to the park. The haunting thoughts slowly circled his head that he was the reason both his parents are dead. He squinted his eyes up towards the sky, trying to see through the clouds and get a glimpse at a cruel god laughing at him. But all he could see was the reflection of a dying planet.
He dragged his fingers across the paint to the sewers once again and made his way into the depths of the cities’ eternal starry night. He enters the camp and saw a small commotion at the center. Where Eric’s hut is. He took off in a frantic sprint, hitting a wall of people rummaging and pulling various items out, some passing them back, some hiding them in their shirts. The friends that he had sat in the corner weeping and holding each other. The collage of pictures, the goggles and sunglasses, old cooking wares, and books slithered through the crowd.
“Get Away! What are you doing!”
No one turned a head as Arwen cried out. He felt a hand on his shoulder that grasped it with a loving, fatherly grip.
“I’m sorry, Arwen. Come with me,” said the elderly man.
Arwen fought back the tears and turned, burying his face in the old man’s shoulder as he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach because he knows what John has to say. A dam of sorrow broke as his cheeks became soaked while his chest heaved in and out. The old man led him away from the crowd, to the back of the station. They sat in a ring of ratty pads and fabrics, and the man folded Arwen’s hand in his.
“How did it happen?” said Arwen.
“He got very hostile, no one is sure why. Our best guess is drugs or alcohol.”
“An overdose?”
“No, he started talking about the dreams and lights and would burst into scenes of crying then anger then he would get a maniacal smile on his face. His face switched back and forth between them. We tried to calm him down and get him to make sense, but he took off. He ran straight for the exit and directly intro traffic. He was killed instantly. I’m sorry, I know how close you two were.”
“I tried to help him.”
“I know you did; you were always there for him. I’ve watched you guys run around like you were joined at the hip since you were just boys. You can’t save everyone though, kid.”
John let out a defeated and sad sigh while shaking his head, his eyes anchoring to a spot in floor, unsure of what to say next. He gave a light pat on Arwen’s cheek and a forced smile. “You can stick around if you want, we have a spot in the back for the night.”
“It’s okay. I should go,” said Arwen, wiping the tears from eyes.
***
Arwen’s head spun in a flurry of confusion in the sunlight as the world seemed to be slowly collapsing around him. With every step forward he felt like it was constantly one step back. He started walking with no destination in mind until his feet subconsciously guided him to his last place of comfort. He leaned his back against the wall of Ms. Garcia’s old plain building once again, inhaling huge breaths to calm his nerves before walking inside.
He pressed the buttons to the inner door and was sanitized again, the pipes shaking behind the wall like church bells. He entered the lobby area and a cop in matte black body armor and helmet push a hand against his chest, stopping him from entering.
“He’s fine, he’s one of our patients,” said the receptionist.
The officer pulled his hand away and went back to his report. Arwen traces the voice behind the officer and sees the receptionist sitting at her desk with her head resting in one hand, holding a damp cloth in her other, holding it against her cheek. She doesn’t bother to lift her head, barely peering at him under her smudged eyebrows.
Arwen looked around before saying anything and sees strews of paper over the floor and down the hallway. Picture frames where smashed, pieces of assorted coffee mugs lay right below them, and the scatterings of children’s drawings litter every chair in the lobby.
“What happened here?”
“Ms. Garcia, she- she just went insane. I was sitting here working on today’s schedule and she camebursting out the door. Babbling nonsense of pure hatred with anger in her eyes, then in an instant, calmness, then right back into a fit. It’s like she couldn’t control herself.”
“Is she okay? Where is she now?”
“The police were nearby and were able to grab her before she could hurt herself. They took her downtown to Hollygrove Psychiatry for now.”
“I wonder what caused her to-.”
A moment a realization shook Arwen like a thunderous clap inside of him, feeling his stomach fall to the floor. Frank, Eric, now Ms. Garcia. All of them were acting uncontrollable, transported back to an animal like state with no emotional control with the only relation between them being the machine.
“Tara!”
***
He could barely catch his breath by the time he got to Bud’s. From outside of the gate he can hear crashing metal and the feint screams of animalistic rage between the cadence of destruction.
He turned the corner and rushed towards the entrance and sees Tara through the side window. She strode through the small office full of fury with her fist clinched at her side. He also spots Bud cowering in the corner, protecting his face from ricochet in the small dark office. Her blue hair was soaked in sweat, her makeup worn away leaving dark circles under eyes that hung above a snarl. Her teeth snapped together while speaking in tongues to the air. She spots him out of the corner of her eye and without hesitation grabs a wrench from the table and throws it directly at him, shattering the window and spraying shards all over him. He ducks in time for the wrench to go flying above his head. He peeks up sees her in a full sprint running towards him. In seconds she is at the door, just feet in front of him. In a last-ditch effort, he holds up is hand and makes a calm face and presses the button on his transmitter.
The anger immediately fades from her face as a crawling sadness slowly consumers her.
“What’s happening to me?” she said. Her body goes limp, her knees barely supporting herself.
“I’m not sure.” Arwen steps forward, gently cupping her chin as he kept a steady aim towards her with his other hand, presses his forehead against hers, trying to keep a steady composure.
“I’m sorry…We have to go. I’ll keep you safe.”
She breathes deeply through her nose, her face caught in a moment of stasis as tears roll down her cheeks, her body trembling. He steps behind her and raises his other hand, pressing the other button with his left and begins walking her like a marionette through the streets, headed towards the park.
As they made their way through the sewers the eyes of the underground glared at them as they walked by, fixating and commenting on Arwen’s device strapped to his head. They slowly made their way towards the back where the elders lived to find John. He sat in the corner smoking a long pipe, his tattered clothes, long stained white beard, and swollen eyes lit up by the pipes glow with every inhale.
“John! I need a chair and some rope!”
John shot up from his seat and immediately sent one of the children nearby to grab the items. “What’s the problem, kid?” He spots Tara as she slowly staggers into sight, the glow from the firepit lights her stone washed face that is a thin veil to the anguish and anger behind her eyes. His pipe dropped from his mouth and he leans forward, resting his palm against her cheek as she shakes and sniffles.
“I fucked up, John. I did something, it’s a long story but I have to fix it. I need you to keep her here and keep her safe.”
“Of course. What is she on? What did you do?” Arwen bit his lip and shook his head in disappointment, staring up to the heavens.
The thumps of children’s feet came clattering behind them as two malnourished boys covered in dirt and patch work clothing appeared from the shadows, one of them dragging a chair and the other had a rope wrapped around his chest. Arwen mimics sitting and places Tara in the chair and the two boys grab each side of the rope and ran in circles around Tara, ducking and maneuvering around another like squirrels, they hand off the ends to John to be knotted.
John’s puzzled face stares at Arwen as Tara sat tied to the chair. He releases the buttons and shut his eyes and turns away. The storm that was brewing behind her eyes finally comes to light and John sees the inescapable anger in them. She lashes out, snapping at the air and screaming, clawing away at her thighs, ripping threads on her pants. John fell back in shock and fear, grabbing at his chest and switching his gaze between Arwen and Tara.
“What have you done?”
“I can fix it…I think.”
Chapter 11
Hollygrove Psychiatry was a twenty-minute bus ride out of the city. Arwen got out at the bus stop in front of it and was stopped by a large black wrought iron gate that had metal vines, petals, and flowers that weaved through out it. Before he could press the button on the call box, a buzzer went off and the sound of a chain and a motor revved up and the gate slowly pulled open. He walked up the cobblestone pathway which hosted perfectly trimmed hedges, large flowers on their last days in the summer’s heat, various statues of Greek figures acting out their most famous events, and a large field of weeping willow trees with a pond that snaked through them.
He was in shock over the amount of greenery and plants that surrounded him as he walked down the pathway, the bright colors, and a clean light breeze brought a smile to his face he couldn’t hide. He jokingly thought that going insane wasn’t a bad idea after all. A large white plantation style building came into view and sat gingerly at the end of the path. It was covered in crawling vines that creeped over reflective windows throughout the walls, it felt like a million eyes stared down on you, but you could never see them back.
He made his way to the entrance and the front door opened for him, he stepped inside a decontamination chamber like Ms. Garcia’s office but this one was gentle. A soft chime let out and there was no rattling pipes or doors getting stuck, just a soft spray and another airy chime when it was finished. The secondary door opened to an expansive lobby with marble floors.
A smiling nurse greeted him at the door and asked him to sign in. A line of patients stood behind a glass pane behind her, waiting for pills from an orderly.
“Who are you here to see?”
“Ms. Garcia, please.”
“Friend or family?”
“Family. I’m a distant cousin of hers.”
“Good, that would be nice for her. The only people she’s seen is police and doctors. We have no records of family or emergency numbers.”
“Our family is complicated.”
“I see.” She pulled a walkie talkie from her scrub pocket and rattled off a few numbers and code. She gave him a courtesy smile and turned towards a double locked door to her left. Every step she took was met with a jangling of keys that bounced off her soft linen smock, which she wore beautifully.
The halls were filled with a wide range of people. Some you could see from their facial expressions alone there was something ticking behind them, waiting for it explode. Others sat dolefully on benches and chairs, twitching appendages, and shifting eyes from the floor to the doors. They all wore different colored cotton jumpsuits that ranged from soft blues to saturated reds. Arwen assumed they were color coded by threat and instinctively tried to stay close to the nurse while walking near the ones in red. They would groan and mumble as they walked by, snapping looks at the keys that bounced on the nurse’s hip.
“Here we are.” She stopped at large wooden door with a window that had the words Visitor across them. “I’ll leave an orderly outside. She’s pretty sedated so she may not be very responsive but try to be supportive. She’s had a rough couple of days.”
Arwen peeked through the window and caught a glimpse of Ms. Garcia’s red jumpsuit and a lump rose in his throat. The nurse opened the door, ushering him in with the orderly standing firmly with his back towards the wall in the hallway. Her hands laid on the table with leather and wool cuffs strapping them in. Her eyes looked dead inside, a slight drool on the corner of her lips, and her wiry hair more alive and standing straight up than usual. He sat down across the table from her, scooting the chair back and leaning away.
“How are you feeling Ms.-?”
Her cold eyes stared back at him, one of her lower eye lids twitched.
He leaned in. “I’m sorry.”
Her nostrils flared. She tapped her fingertips on the table. Her nails were torn back and broken from the tips of her fingers; the soft skin made a quiet but deafening thump as she did it. Her mouth moved slowly and softly, mumbling nothings beneath her breathe.
“What is that?” said Arwen. He pulled in close, facing his ear towards her, resting his palms on the top of table.
The sound of the chain stopping her hands echoed in the small room as she lunged for him, her hands frantically grabbing for anything she could, her teeth snapping as she contorted and moved her body in a serpentine fashion. The orderly rushed in and pulled Arwen outside and headed back in as to restrain her from hurting herself. She kicked and fussed until she eventually gave up and the medication took over once again. The nurse from the lobby came rushing down the hall to grab Arwen.
“I’m so sorry you had to see that. It’s miserable, isn’t it?”
“You have no idea.”
“We had a patient nearly identical to her some time ago. He passed away around when I started here, about twenty years ago. There was just nothing you could do to keep him happy, the meds barely worked, there wasn’t a moment that passed where he wasn’t trying to attack someone or trying to destroy something. He was a smart man too, even taught some of our doctors that work here in the Behavior Science department at the state university. They figured all the long days in the lab finally got to him and he went off the deep end.”
Arwen’s ears perked up as she went on with her story. Trying to find any correlations that could help with his situation. He made a mental note of any information she gave and repeated it over in his head as he took the cobblestone path back to the bus stop.
***
Protected by the comfort of the sewer, he nestled into a corner outside of the main entry way with nothing but a laptop screen to light the area. His fingers curiously finding their way through the dark at a rapid pace on the keyboard, searching to find anything that could help. He scoured what was left of the old net from the cyber wars, looking for anything form the state university archives, research papers, hospital records, or anything he could get his hands on that seemed relevant. He wrote a quick script to scrub through the papers he downloaded to look for matches from the data.
Ping
A name appeared on the screen. Dr. Omar Emery. Everything matched. He was a behavioral science teacher who taught mostly psychology but also had a background in computer science. He was admitted to Hollygrove in 2065 with a no reason being stated on the paperwork. Most of his file was left blank. Another record pinged on the screen that seemed peculiar, an enrollment log from a science division ran by a federal agency named MRD. There was nothing about the agency that he could find, seeing as acronym military agencies were about a dime a dozen towards the end of the war, and most were red herring to throw off the enemy’s hackers.
A gut feeling tore at him to keep pressing forward with the new information. He modified his script to search through the digital wreckage of anything mention the MRD and Emery.
Ping
Thousands of files returned instantly, all coded in a series of numbers, letters, and dashes. They were mostly empty folders and text files with more alphanumerical names that were empty or filled with random letters. It didn’t look like encryption, just the haystack to the needle. Then finally, a needle. A folder that was simply named emeryLog_Backup2062.
Chapter 12
Date: 05/24/62
Dr. Emery
Log:583
We have made a great discovery these past few days. The subjects have been responding remarkably well to the tests. We have scanned through a block of frequencies every half hour and have tracked the changes in their performance and vital signs. We have also been running placebos at a random interval chosen by the system and have not shown any false positives in the readings. We are closing in on a range that seems to be performing the best (Data set A). For that half hour, all subjects showed exceedingly better attention span, responsiveness, and energy with no major fluctuations in vitals. EKG and EEG does show some minimal abnormalities, but it is so miniscule we believe it to be natural.
***
Date: 05/26/62
Dr. Emery
Log:584
More progress today on the subjects. It is coming abundantly clear that we are awfully close. We have now cut our original frequency range in half and are getting closer to the goal. All signs of attentiveness and energy are going up as we get closer, there has a been a slight rise in vitals and extra noise in the data, but we are going to continue as it has not become a substantial concern yet. I have spoken to the Col. Galloway about taking a step back into our study and use animals. I was told the war will not wait for our test and neither will he and that it was a privilege for these men to serve and help their country.
***
Date: 05/29/62
Dr. Emery
Log:585
We have done it! We have found a frequency that is working flawlessly. The subjects are working nearly a 100% faster than their benchmark results. Once we turn on the machine, the devilish hum of it seems to possess them. Their fingers attack the keyboard at such a rapid pace, their focus is outstanding, they are able to penetrate enemy firewalls and encryptions at devastating speeds. The vitals and EEG are showing a large amount of noise, but we can only assume it is the body dealing with the substantial change. We will monitor this further but it is not a substantial concern yet. This discovery could change the tides of war. Once we have a full brigade of our inspired soldiers, our NetForce will be unstoppable. They will be paraded through the streets as heroes, my team and I will be celebrated for eternity.
***
Date: 05/31/62
Dr. Emery
Log:586
I have been embarrassingly wrong in my life but never this severe. We have toyed with pandoras box again and managed to gain a peek, it should remain closed forever. After extensive testing we have concluded that the frequency causes the subjects brain to produce adrenaline and norepinephrine which allows them to extremely focus on a task for long periods of time. One of the downsides is it appears that once the frequency is used, it doesn’t stop producing these chemicals and also locks out serotonin production. After testing, the subjects became irritable and restless, they paced for hours in their holding areas, slamming their fist against walls and throwing anything that wasn’t bolted down. We tried to sedate them, but it was fruitless. We managed to subdue one and introduce trimethaphan to him but it simply would not work, the blood pressure remained and even spiked later in the evening. We saw a small amount of improvement with a dosage of codeine, but the improvement faded quickly. We will continue to monitor the patients.
***
Date: 06/1/62
Dr. Emery
Log:587
We are closing the study immediately. Col. Galloway has returned and has sent his team to bag and take the soldiers. He said they will be executed immediately in the yard. I can feel something, or more precisely, I can’t feel anything. This news would normally throw me into shambles, but I cannot seem to care. I am concerned of having exposure to the frequencies is changing me. I have become restless, my leg constantly shakes, the whites of my eyeballs feel constantly exposed, my head is constantly sweating, and the smell is nauseating.
***
Date: 06/1/62
Dr. Emery
Log:588
I cannot control. Only hell lives here now.
Chapter 13
Arwen closed his laptop and stared off into the cold dark. His feet slowly followed one another, aimlessly walking and pondering about everything he read. The moonlight soothed his nerves and the crisp late-night wind comforted him. The wind always brought surprises so he looked forward to it the most at night, he would stop and try to pick out the sweet and savory smell of cooking from the cultural melting pot that was the ghettos, the rare but intense scent of freshly cut crass or blossoming flowers in the park, or the unmistakable but delightful gourmand fragrances that trailed behind prostitutes as they made their rounds. That night the wind carried the sound of Marcy singing, her beautiful but unfortunate tune echoed against the buildings, and with it came an idea that shook him.
***
A couple hours passed before he made his way back to the sewers. His mind and heart reeling with emotion, his gaze and attention coming in and out of a haze. He carried himself through the encampment while the night’s usual debauchery took place. Trash cans glowed with a fire that warmed a ring of people laughing and talking amongst themselves around it, the kids swung their feet from their nested rooms while throwing rocks at the rats that skittered around, the old men sat emotionless and staring at the ground and briefly looked at one another to grunt.
He paused for a moment at Eric’s old house. It was surprisingly still vacant and had piles of small flowers spread across the doorway. He shuffled to the door and placed his hand on an old shoeshine sign to say a prayer and the door gently gave way. The inside was torn to pieces, the pictures were ripped from the walls, every trace of anything worth value has been stripped away. He walked over to where Eric’s bed used to be and swung a little metal No Trespassing sign that was hung by a single nail. His eyes lit up and watered and a smirk broke through when he found a worn metal thermos. He put his back against the wall, tossing it in his hands back and forth as he reminisced of all the time they spent together but was immediately cut off from the sound of Tara’s muffled scream. He took off in a sprint towards the sound and found an old rusty door in the corner of the hallway labeled Maintenance.
The glow of a candle in the corner revealed the side of Johns wrinkly face and beard resting in the palms of his hand. Tara was still in the same chair, her arms bound but now with bits of cloth wrapped around her hands to keep her from tearing open her thighs.
“About damn time.” John said while pulling a ball of cotton from his ear.
“I had to make a few stops.”
“So, any good news?”
“I can only think of one thing.” Arwen slumped down on a stool in front of Tara and stared deeply into her big blue eyes. He opened his bag and put the machine on himself, John sat back staring at him in bewilderment. “I’ll need your help for the next part.” He unscrews the lid of the thermos and tips it over and a stash of a thick rubber bands, needle, spoon and vile of water came spilling out on to the table. He glances toward John and pulls two small balls of foil from his jacket and rolls them onto the table.
“Going to put her out of her misery the easy way, huh?”
“They’re not for her.”
“What are you babbling about?”
“We have to reset her. We can purge all the emotions, but we need something strong. If I give it to her, she’ll could survive but it would destroy her forever. I’ve ruined enough lives, I can’t be responsible for that, but I can give her the same feeling. I need you to make sure that I never stop pointing this at her and I never let go of the button.”
He leaned back in the chair and hummed Marcy’s song, the flame of the lighter danced seductively around the spoon as the concoction fizzled and bubbled. John paced back and forth in the back with his hands behind his neck, softly murmuring obscenities and how the amount would kill him instantly. He rolled up his sleeve and attached the band, his virgin skin swelled with veins and shook under the candlelight. He smiled at John and grabbed his hands and made him secure his grip over the button and mouthed “Thank you.” He stuck the needle into a vein and asked John to do the honors.
Tara’s furious eyes locked Arwen’s. John slowly pressed the plunger down, fighting back tears. Arwen pressed down the button and John’s grip followed. Arwen’s shoulders collapsed and his head rocked back as his eyes slowly glazed over. Tara’s furrowed brow smoothed back to its youthful self, her lids closed, and the corners of her mouth turned slightly upward, she rested her head back, her chest taking deep relaxing breaths. This went on for several minutes as John felt the life slowly fleeing from Arwen underneath his fingers. His breathe became shallow and exhausted, his lips and fingernails a pale blue and an almost unpronounced heartbeat. He released the button and leaned back against the wall and kept his eyes on Tara. She slowly swayed her head from side to side, starting to awaken once again. The blue of her eyes shone through the candlelight; the expression of eternal bliss was ripped away as she laid eyes on Arwen’s body sitting across from her. Her eyes flooded with tears as she cried out his name.
John studied her for a moment then reached over to cut the ropes. Her body sprung forward, shooting her arms out to grab Arwen and squeeze him. She peered through her messy hair towards John, pressing her ear to Arwen’s chest.
“Is he…?”
John stared at the floor, shook his head, and shrugged his shoulders. A light squeeze from Arwen’s hand startled her, he took a large gasping breathe then settled back down to a barely visible shallowness. John called for help from the others to carry him outside and wave down the ambulance that was always parked nearby.
***
Tara sat in the emergency room waiting room clinging on to Arwen’s bag and resting her head on Johns shoulder. Her body was still shaking like an aftershock of the emotions that consumed her. A nurse approached them.
“Tara?”
“Yes?”
“We have some good news and some bad news. Arwen is alive but his condition is less than favorable. The paramedics were quick and were able to supply him naloxone before it was too late, but we fear that there will be permanent brain damage. We’re not sure if he will be able to recover, I’m sorry.” The nurse forced a smile with her lower lip, she paused and put a hand on her shoulder and pulled an envelope from her scrubs. “I believe this is for you, we found this note with your name on it taped to his chest.”
***
Dear Tara,
If you’re reading this then I’m probably dead and you survived and were able to return to some kind of normal. I’m sorry for putting you through all that, you know I would never hurt you on purpose. I want to thank you for everything you’ve ever done for me. You were my first person to ever talk to me when I shuffled into school in my dirty clothes, the first person to show me the underground and better ways to live, and my first kiss. I’ll never forget all the times you used to sneak parts past Bud or the engineering books you stole for me. You’ve always looked out for me and I’m sorry this is how I repaid you.
I have ruined everyone’s life who was close to me, I know I could never change the past but the least I can do is try to help change your future. Inside the bag is a large amount of money that I’ve collected in last couple of days, it should be enough to get a decent place outside of the city for a couple years and some extra food and supplies. Please take it and live the life that I have taken from others. I’ll watch over you every day.
I love you,
Arwen
Chapter 14
Arwen’s wheelchair rolled smoothly over the intricate pattern of cobble stone pattern to Hollygrove Psychiatry. Tara was stricken with awe at the perfectly trimmed hedges and ponds. Her eyes rolled across the vaulted white ceilings with metal and brass chandeliers. A nurse greeted them behind the marble desk.
“Welcome, I’m guessing this is this Mr. Dalby?”
“In the flesh,” said Tara. Arwen looked off sideways into the void, his eyes hazed over. Tara patted Arwen on his shoulder and smiled at the nurse “So, are you hiring?”
The End
