The operating table was filthy.
The air was heavy with the odor of blood.
“She’s beginning to wake,” said one of the men in surgical attire.
The other man, a heavier fellow, slipped a surgical mask over the girl’s mouth. He then reached for the bloody scalpel that dangled from his waist along with several other surgical tools.
The girl winced in pain. Her eyes flickered, then widened as she took in the stained ceiling. She pulled against the ties that bound her arms and legs; her blood spattered the room.
“She’s becoming combative,” the first man said. “I’ll give her a sedative.”
The last thing the girl saw before the drug took effect was the sight of her sliced-open abdomen with the scalpel-wielding man’s forearm deep inside of it.
Tears began to fall; her eyelids drooped and closed.
“Relax, darling,” the surgeon said. “It will be over soon enough.”
It was so blurry. Was that a glitch? Whose experiences were those anyway?
Gripping at the sides of the capsule I sat up within it. It was exactly the same, a sooty box of a room. Behind a chained metal gate sat another dusty metallic capsule; its hatch was still sealed, the glass intact. In an instant I felt a sting. I looked to my hand, which gripped at the shattered glass of the capsule’s door, my blood dripping down to the capsule’s frayed components below. It was clearly pieced back together by an inexpert hand, but nonetheless it was quite the marvel of technology. I had been in the room six hours now, two of those asleep in the capsule. There were no windows, but at least there was a refrigerator in the corner of the room, and next to it, a toilet. There was obviously no room to separate the two. With only one door under lock and key, I was trapped. I was alone the entire time.
“I see you learned the functions of The Retrieval LTM device …”
It was a women’s voice. When did she get in? A raven haired woman with a boyish haircut sat at the sole wooden table in the room, she was flipping through my notebook. Standing up, I slammed the notebook shut. It was classified information; who knew who she was.
“Agent…relax,” she said, grabbing at my sweaty shoulder. She let go almost immediately, wiping her hand on her leg with mild distaste. Walking around the capsule she ran her hand across it; The Retrieval LTM was what she called it.
“The ability to recall the majority of Suburbia’s experiences by jumping from mind to mind; this is your mission.”
My hand smeared a bloody stain across the paper I grabbed. “Are you the one that The Supreme Commander is talking about in this email, the woman I am to be aiding?” I felt myself bark at her: “Who are you?”
“That will be answered when you have time to worry about it. In this moment you should worry about chronologically piecing back together the experiences you see in The Retrieval LTM.”
“Why did you choose me for the task? It specifically says I was elected.”
“Brilliant deductive skills, a strong sense of justice, and the ability to work well under stressful situations. You are the perfect choice to perform this task. You will be unable to leave this room until it’s completed. My guess is it will take you six days in all...Solve the case.”
“Why would you have me solve a case that has already been solved…almost two years ago?”
“I see you’ve already begun…did you discover the starting point to the chain of events that led to our meeting?” She smirked.
She was right. I recalled what The Retrieval LTM had shown me, the events I dubbed the starting point. I picked up my notebook. Written on its pages were the notes I had taken of what I’d seen thus far. It all did begin around that young man, Kade. I began to read to her, how on that Suburban morning, finding its way above The Barrier, the sunlight once again warmed the freeway.
The divot-less road branched away from The Barrier’s proximity toward the suburbs, and on that morning a mail truck rode along it. Extending his arm from the truck, the mailman filled multiple mailboxes with envelopes and tossed newspapers to the driveways. The mail truck never stopped, even while its grinning driver waved to the Suburbanites. He allowed another newspaper to soar. Just before the paper touched the cement, the wheels of the mail truck halted. The mailman hopped out, and shifted away the newspaper that was pressed lightly against the vibrant green lawn.
Just on the corner of that road sat a rickety garage. Above it, the rusted logo for Mickey’s Mechanics hung prominently; its lights had not yet been turned on. In front of the garage’s chain-link gate, the mail truck came to another stop. There, the mailman lifted the truck’s shutter door. The Suburban light poured into the back of the vehicle, falling on multiple bins of envelopes and a sole cardboard package. Cradling the package, the man squeezed between the gates at the portion where a lock and chain loosely held it closed.
Beyond the gate sat a few tarnished cars. Some sat on cinderblocks with their tires missing, while others had their hoods opened and parts dangling freely. The mailman’s feet trampled the weeds that grew from the cracks in the oil stained concrete slab. He made his way through the graveyard of cars toward the garage door.
The rusted metal shutters of the garage rumbled as he banged against them. There was no answer. He looked up toward the highest windows of the two story building. There were no signs of life, and the mailman banged again. The vibrations caused the company’s logo to dislodge, and the man flinched. Jumping to the side, he stumbled into a ladder that leaned against the building. The logo never crashed down, it swung above him on a single hinge. The mailman placed the package just underneath the ladder and exited.
Just as the wheels of the mail truck departed, the much thinner wheels of a street bike attempted to fill the void.
The rising sunlight reflected in the motorcycle helmet’s visor. Removing it from his head, Kade brushed his short black hair away from his face, molding it into spikes. He looked to the skies. It truly was perfect. Even as rain clouds approached, it didn’t take away from the comfort, that place managed to emit.
A breeze rattled the trees in front of him and their brown leaves cascaded toward the ground. Touching a lawn, a leaf was held up by several flawless blades of grass. Even the leaves the autumn breeze blew from the trees seemed to land on the ground in the most perfect placements possible…typical Suburbia.
I paused from the tale. I had a question for the raven haired woman. Were those Kade’s thoughts or were they mine? I couldn’t understand why in the chamber I was able to feel the feelings and thoughts behind Kade and Savannah’s actions, but no one else’s. It was rather confusing. Everyone’s experiences were mine for the viewing, but viewing experiences with their eyes came along with more, with their influences. Influences so strong I couldn’t tell if I was truly feeling their thoughts or not. I even wrote the words down as if they were my own. It was less like a viewing and more like a reliving; they were telling me their stories. There was no clear line drawn where my thoughts ended or either of theirs began. She had to have an answer.
She had none, merely shaking her head. She politely asked me to continue.
Unlocking the gate and sliding it open, Kade approached the shutter garage doors. As he unlocked them, his foot stopped just parallel to the unnoticed package. He paused. Such an odd sensation… A pure unadulterated uncomforting sensation…anything but the way Suburbia typically made you feel. A feeling of restlessness…a feeling that anything out of the ordinary could happen next. The drooping logo stole his attention. He scoffed. Or the feelings of a logo that almost falls, daily. It could wait.
Yanking the door up, the stenches of oil and gasoline filled the air around him. He flipped a switch; bulbs flickered on across the four car garage. As he walked in sweat began to glisten on his semi-tan skin. Getting old school Mickey to keep the air conditioning unit running was the definition of impossible. Not even B.S about the heat not being good for the cars worked. You would think a war vet would do whatever he could to avoid the memories of the heat of war. Guess his comfort was a sacrifice to his frugal ways.
“Hey Mick, I’m here!” He wiped his brow.
There was no response. Kade looked to a work schedule, rather rapidly turning away. Being scheduled in the morning or afternoon made no difference. Truth was those two never woke up on time to open the shop.
Putting on a mechanic’s jumper, he turned on the garage’s sole computer. He waited for a moment before warming up the machinery that surrounded the cars that sat on “operating tables.” A small television faced the garage. When turned on, an energetic voice came blaring from the speakers even before the fuzzy picture adjusted.
“And let me guess Mr. Helix, you now plan to direct your attention to the Inner City?” It was Rex Masters; everyone in Suburbia knew that news anchor’s game show host type of voice.
The picture adjusted, and on screen sat Masters. On the edge of his seat, he was fixated to the chair in front of him. There, the brunette Helix was seated. As Helix’s mouth began to part, his assistant poised her stylus over her tablet.
“The Barrier was built to contain the crime rate,” Helix said, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. “But that didn’t work. I understand the Emperors of The Inner City have some organization, and I commend them for that, but a real course of action is needed.” Stylus to screen, his assistant silently caught his every word.
Helix was right. That Barrier had been up for years. Enclosing an entire city, Suburbia threw its crime rate within it. Its function was to protect the surrounding Suburbia. No one could enter but more importantly no one could exit. Crime free and vibrant, Suburbia became a paradise. Thus, filled with sordid personalities, the city became a wasteland. Clearly an idea mistaken for an ideal solution.
“Over the past three months, girls have gone missing from Suburbia; do you believe it’s one of the Emperors responsible for the disappearances?” Masters inquired.
“I’m not sure; I will leave that to the Suburban police. I want to focus my money on discovering the nature of this Optimal State the Emperors are fighting over.”
Standing up, Masters clapped his hands slowly and steadily. Person by person the audience followed; until the entire room was filled with applause.
“And there you have it.” Master’s voice rose over the ovation. “Ladies and gentlemen it’s philanthropist Cristian Helix and his plans to create a better tomorrow for the residents of the Inner City!”
Helix gave a smirk; standing he took a few bows.
“Good luck on your upcoming election for Suburban senator Mr. Helix,” Masters shouted.
Unmoved, Kade stared at the television screen. Dashing, rich, and full of himself, that was Cristian Helix’s usual behavior. Between his scruffy hair and leather jacket that had more straps and buckles than a pop singer, he was definitely the “play-by-my-rules” type of billionaire.
Kade shook his head, reaching to turn off the screen. As his finger floated above the button, Helix gazed directly into the camera. Kade stared back, gulping hard. The hairs on his arms stood on end as goose bumps appeared on his skin.
Abruptly, the deafening sounds of metal clanking and breaking glass startled Kade. He jumped back, turning off the television. It seemed as though it couldn’t have waited. Kade looked to the logo on the cement just outside the door. Shattered bulbs spread the ground around it. Grabbing a hammer and the fallen logo a few feet from the package, Kade took to the ladder leaned against the building. Atop the ladder he hung the metallic logo. He turned his attention to the busy Suburban road.
A slender girl paced next to a discolored old clunker of a car, whose hazard lights dimly blinked in the Suburban sun. Climbing down, Kade looked below the ladder.
A package…? Part deliveries were usually on a Tuesday, not Friday; odd. Hopping off, Kade reached for the package, his fingers grazing at it. The faint sounds of honking found its way from the main road to Kade’s ears. The girl…other drivers must’ve been getting impatient. Leaving the package behind, Kade walked the street.
Approaching the girl, he looked her up and down. Amazing; curly golden bronze hair and caramel skin, trademarked a multiple ethnic composition. Her legs; long, stunning and smooth.
“Yeah, this time it won’t start at all.” She stated to whoever was on the other end of her cell phone. “I mean ...”
The car was pretty beat-up. Brushing past the girl Kade inhaled deeply, holding his breath before lifting the hood. Smoke poured out.
“…I’ll call you back,” the girl said, hanging up the call. “Excuse me! Can I help you?” She snapped.
She took in Kade’s grease-smeared attire, calming almost immediately.
“It keeps making these weird put-put sounds while I’m driving.”
“Give me a minute and I can get you up and running.”
The girl looked at her watch, and shook her head. “Crud-muffin, I’m already late for class.”
Lifting his eyes from the engine for a second, he was caught in the hold of her hazel eyes. She froze. The look on her face was filled with curiosity. She appeared to be desperately attempting to figure something out. The types of looks someone gets when experiencing déjà vu.
“Did you go to Crest Water High?” She asked.
Crest Water…so long ago. Although it was only the starting point of a series of unfortunate events, hearing its name was still accompanied by a sour taste and a retch to the stomach. “Yeah…Yeah, you have a coil pack issue. Go start the car” Kade stated, his discomfort taking to his face.
Obediently, she slid into the driver’s seat. “You graduated two years ago with that huge college scholarship, right?” She continued.
Rumbles and vibrations came from the functioning engine, and Kade slammed the hood shut. “I work at Mickey’s Mechanics, right down the road.” He pointed back to the direction from which he came. “You’ll have to bring it in for complete diagnostics when you get time. Like this, it won’t last long.”
She graciously thanked him, and drove away.
He silently made the short jog back to the garage. Heading in, he once again reached for the package. Once secured in his arms, he looked to the mailing label. As if the package wasn’t odd enough, it was addressed to… The whirling hums of a power tool sounded, and box in tow, Kade entered into the shop. Immediately, his eyes caught the bright embers flying from behind the desk. Miya… The girl sat with goggles concealing her eyes, and a headband holding her platinum blonde bob cut from her face. In her hands she pressed a rotating tool against a metal rod. The embers continued to fly as she smoothed the metal. Kade smirked. Every morning seeing her like that was like seeing her for the first time. It was a satisfying feeling, seeing a young, cute petite girl breaking stereotypes. To most she definitely didn’t look like someone who would be a technician aide. She embraced it, having sweat on her face as opposed to eyeliner and blush. It was stupid for anyone to limit the potentials of anyone else based on appearances, but unfortunately it was realistic.
“Morning,” Kade said, smiling at her. She looked up lifting the goggles from her face, and her fair skin flushed pink. Her eyes diverted.
“Hey, what’s in the box?” She asked, stiffening in his gaze.
“Not sure, but it’s addressed to me.”
“And you’re waiting for what? Open it!” she barked. Kade’s fingers pressed against the package’s seal.
“Open it later Kade, I need your help here,” a husky voice radiated. Kade turned to see the man’s lower half sticking out from beneath a car. The man’s legs were shifting about as he struggled with something underneath the vehicle. His suspendered slacks soaked up the grease from the garage’s floor. Placing the box on the desk, Kade slid down next to the man.
“Well there’s your problem right there Mick,” Kade pointed after a moment.
“Well I’ll be damned,” Mickey replied, adjusting the glasses on his greasy face. Kade stood up and vigorously wiped his hand in a cloth.
“Have a son of your own they said. Nonsense, I made out just fine,” Mickey said just as Kade grabbed the box. Kade walked to the back of the shop, standing in front of a dusty wooden staircase. It was about to be the same old argument; it was an almost daily ritual for the two. Truthfully, if anyone wanted to be involved with those types of spats there were so many other places to go. Even staying at Mom and Dad’s would’ve sufficed.
“Hey! What about my dad, grandpa?” Miya debated, as Mickey pressed his hands against his ears.
Atop the stairwell the sounds of their voices faded away. At the second door, Kade took out a key and inserted it into the lock. The single room apartment was minimally furnished with not much more than a table, bed, and chair. He looked around. It was cozy, all anyone would need; the only thing missing was a toilet, but sharing one with Miya down the hall wasn’t bad at all. A simple day-to-day reassurance was all anyone would need to remain happy.
Pulling down the top portion of his uniform, he headed toward the small wooden table in the center of the room. He had to move the framed photo of his parents and himself which sat there to make space for the package. The cheerful smiles in the photo existed so long ago. Kade grunted, and roughly tossed the frame aside.
Making a few steps over to the refrigerator, he took out some eggs and a previously bitten slice of buttered toast. All the while, his eyes glanced back to the package. That odd sensation again… Was it clothes, or maybe some other type of gift? Nonsense…how could a gift cause someone to be so on edge? There was something far greater in that box. What was in that box? He intensely examined the top of the package. There was no return address. Once again his finger pressed at the label that sealed it. It was open.
His fingers nervously fumbled as he pulled out a small speaker radio. He gripped the wooden speaker with both hands before pulling out a headset and microphone. Confusion spread Kade’s face. It was a shortwave band communicator and throat microphone with a wireless radio wave earpiece, very innovative devices. Without a doubt if the microphone and earpiece were off, the speaker would act as the primary transmitter. Why was the speaker radio, which looked straight out of the 1970s, paired with such new wave technology? He placed the ear bud of the thumb sized communicator into his ear, loosely fastening the microphone around his neck.
“Hello? Hello?”
There was no response, and Kade smirked as he tampered with the back of the speaker. He opened it up. It was definitely only designed to appear from the 1970s, all of its inner mechanics were newer design. Closing it up, he noticed the speaker’s dial pointed to off. Turning it on, he silently dug through the box. A long, shimmering silver chain sat on top of some black clothes with its end hidden deep within the box. As Kade began wrapping the chain around his finger, a vociferous buzz radiated from the communicator to his eardrum. Swinging his hand up against his ear, the chain swayed with it. Kade lowered the volume on the speaker.
“Greetings,” a distorted yet robotic voice spoke. “From this moment on you are to listen and follow my instructions only. Discard even your own thoughts. In the box there is a syringe filled with a solution, inject yourself with it.”
Digging deeper into the box Kade pulled out the syringe, filled with a pastel yellow solution. He carelessly dropped the syringe back into the box, along with the speaker.
Something didn’t make sense. Why would anyone truly go through that much trouble? As he removed the devices from his ear and neck, the speaker roared again. Kade turned the dial to off, collapsing down onto his bed.
He faced the nightstand and alarm clock in the corner of the room, 9:40am. The silver chain remained wrapped in the palm of his hand, and he brought it to hang above his head. His eyes traced the odd-looking pendant that swung at the end of it. The silver pendent glistened as it swung in and out of the rays of sunlight that raged the room.
Stupidly he disregarded the speaker’s last words. He was thinking irrationally.
“Quite the colorful and poetic tale you’ve pieced together; you’re quite the storyteller.” The raven haired woman stood in the doorway, interrupting my story.
“You’re the second one to ever to tell me that.”
“So what did the speaker say to Kade?”
“It said ‘If you don’t respond, we will make you do so...’”
The woman turned suddenly.
“You have six days to solve the case,” she said turning her back to me.
“You are foolish; it was already all over the news. The missing girl cases were solved. A serial killer kidnapped them, he was deemed crazy, sent to the Inner City, and there were no connections between the victims.” I walked toward the door, and she placed her hand out in front of me. “Don’t waste my time,” I snarled.
“Spend just one day in here. After that if you don’t think it’s necessary you can leave, but I should tell you, I lied…” She whispered. “I believe you can only feel Kade’s and Savannah’s thoughts because they were the center pieces in it all; something greater than them both. Tell me; how did Kade respond to the speaker’s last words? I’m sure in a way unsure to his destiny and the part he would play.” She smiled to me as she exited, beginning to lock me in the room.
She was right about his response. “He questioned if that was actually what the speaker said. Dubbing it ‘such an odd joke…”