Tag: Mona

7.3

Anna B.1 Comment

Previous | Next

Lachlan

“Hold on a minute,” said Mahender. “Did you say ‘finding our way out of the Pit’?”

“Yes, that’s what I said,” said Mrs. Sharma. “Congratulations. At 25 years old, you’ve finally learned how to listen and pay attention. If you were 20 years younger, I might actually be proud.”

“Well, you’re a delight as always.”

“Unfortunately, it seems you still haven’t learned not to be sarcastic to your elders.”

“You were being sarcastic to me first,” said Mahender. “Maybe I learned from your example.”

Mrs. Sharma’s fist clenched.

“You’re in my house, and you will show me proper respect.” Mrs. Sharma turned to the rest of them. “That goes for all of you, too. Is that clear?”

Lachlan noticed her directing especially pointed looks at him and Angelina.

“Yes, ma’am!” said Jen. “Crystal!”

“Good,” said Mrs. Sharma. “Now, let’s get back to the matter at hand. Finding our way home.”

“I don’t understand, though,” said Mahender. “Where’s this coming from? We’ve been here for years. I thought you’d given up on making it home? You’ve been so obsessed with finding–“

“25 years old and you still haven’t learned how not to interrupt me.”

“Oh, I’ve learned. I just choose to do it anyway.”

Mrs. Sharma’s jaw clenched so hard, Lachlan saw it from all the way across the dim room.

“You irritating, disrespectful little–“

“Ahem,” said Lachlan. “If I may interrupt–“

“You may not,” said Mrs. Sharma.

“If I may interrupt,” Lachlan continued, “the two of you clearly have some family issues you need to work through. But maybe you could consider tabling that discussion until after we all escape from the murder pit. Just a suggestion.”

“Fair enough,” said Mahender. “Sorry.”

“Fine.” Mrs. Sharma paused, looking each of them in the eye as if daring them to interrupt again. “Angelina, you somehow appear to have information that could be useful to us, and you believe you’ve discovered a way back to our plane of reality. Can you tell me what you think you’ve figured out?”

“Sure!” said Angelina.

“Excuse me,” said Mahender.

Mrs. Sharma’s jaw clenched again.

“She looks like a cartoon character, the way her vein’s popping out of her forehead like that,” Jen whispered just loudly enough for Sam and Lachlan to hear.

“What was that?” said Mrs. Sharma.

“Nothing, ma’am!” said Jen.

“Really?” said Mrs. Sharma. “If it’s nothing, then why is it important enough to interrupt our discussion about getting home?”

“Um, because…”

“She said you look like a cartoon character,” said Lachlan.

Mahender huffed out a laugh into his sleeve.

“Excuse me?” said Mrs. Sharma.

“Hey!” said Jen. “Tattle much?”

“I look like a what?” said Mrs. Sharma.

“Well, I, um,” said Jen. “I didn’t mean–“

“She didn’t really mean you look like a cartoon character. She just meant you’re so mad right now, you look a little cartoon-ish,” supplied Sam.

“Lucky for you three idiots, I have more important things to focus on than your childish insults,” said Mrs. Sharma.

“What do you mean childish insults?” Sam protested. “I said you don’t really look like a cartoon character. How is that an insult?”

“And why am I included in the ‘three idiots’?” said Lachlan. “If you recall, unlike these two, I didn’t actually say anything about you. I’ve been a perfect little angel.”

“If anything, what I said was a compliment,” said Sam.

“I don’t really think you look like a cartoon character,” said Jen. “You look very nice.”

“I know I look nice. You’re not winning any points with me by sucking up.” Mrs. Sharma sighed. “From this point forward, I am going to ignore any further remarks from the three stooges here unless they directly pertain to our conversation.”

“If we’re talking about going home, we need to include Nancy,” said Mahender. “She should be a part of this conversation too.”

“Who’s Nancy?” whispered Jen.

“She’s an older lady who lives in an airplane,” said Sam. “She’s been trapped here for a while.”

“So you’re suggesting we leave the safety of my home and walk all the way to Nancy’s plane?” said Mrs. Sharma.

“Yeah. My brothers will come with us. It’s not as dangerous as you’re making it sound.”

“That’s out of the question,” said Mrs. Sharma.

“I’m not leaving this place without her,” said Mahender. “And you wouldn’t leave here without me.”

“What makes you so sure I wouldn’t?”

“I know you. And as much as you don’t like me, I know you wouldn’t leave your family behind.”

“Really?” Mrs. Sharma shot him a dark look. “You’re going to talk to me about leaving your family behind?”

So much for tabling the discussion about family issues.

“Well, I, for one, I don’t think we should leave Nancy out,” said Sam. “We can’t just leave her here.”

“Yeah,” said Lachlan. “We should go talk to her.”

“I have an idea!” said Jen. “Why don’t we all vote on it? Everyone who thinks we should go find this lady, raise your hand.”

Everyone but Mrs. Sharma raised their hand. Even the strange little bat-like creature sitting on Angelina’s shoulder raised a hand after Angelina whispered something to it.

Previous | Next

7.2

Anna B.1 Comment

Previous | Next

Naomi

Naomi, Mahender, and Angelina followed Mrs. Sharma down the hall.

“Why can’t Falcon come in?” said Angelina.

“He’ll be safe outside,” said Mrs. Sharma. “I can’t say the same for my useless nephew, or his new friend. Besides, my house has limited space.”

They entered the combined living room and kitchen area, and as Mrs. Sharma moved out of the way, Naomi saw who was standing by the couch, bruised and a bit disheveled, but alive.

“Chelsea!”

Naomi’s relief was the kind that washed every bit of tension and worry from her body so abruptly it left her legs feeling weak; it was a wave that swept over her, threatening to knock her off her feet.

Naomi ran over to her friend, falling into her arms.

“Naomi! Not that I’m not happy to see you, but how are you here?”

“Oh, my God, C! You’re alive! You’re safe! When that woman said she put you here, I thought…” The threat of tears stung the corners of Naomi’s eyes, and she fought them back. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“The rest of us are okay too, thanks for asking!” said a familiar voice from behind Chelsea.

Lachlan, who was sitting on one of the two barstools in the kitchen, swiveled around to face her.

One time, Lachlan had video called her the morning after a particularly wild night out, informing her with some extremely misplaced pride in his voice that he’d woken up wrapped in a tarp in his neighbor’s driveway. The bags under his eyes now were twice as dark as they’d been then.

The clothes he wore were very un-Lachlan-like–white slacks that would have been stylish if they had been clean and a size larger, a light blue button-down shirt, and a jacket with red stripes. Each item would have been nice paired with something else, but together, it all clashed horribly.

“What are you wearing?” she asked him.

“What am I wearing?” he said. “Oh, sure. Chelsea gets all your tearful concern, and I get outfit criticism.”

“To be fair,” said Mrs. Sharma, “you and Sam both look horrible.”

“First of all,” said Lachlan, “I’d like to see you try to pull together an outfit in the dark from a stranger’s closet. Secondly, I’ll have you know that I’m handsome enough to pull off a paper sack, and Sam here’s not too hard on the eyes himself for a massive nerd. We make extradimensionally-scavenged chic look good.”

Naomi looked at the boy sitting backwards in the barstool beside Lachlan, arms resting on the stool’s backrest. The other boy’s clothes were equally mismatched; he wore a similar, dirtier pair of white slacks that looked like they’d been tailored for someone just a bit bigger than him and a brown aviator jacket over a white undershirt. The jacket suited him, at least.

Jen sat on the countertop between the two boys, holding onto the unfamiliar boy’s hand, which was bandaged with strips of cloth.

He must have been the boyfriend Jen had been looking for.

“Having to wear scavenged clothes is not an excuse,” said Mrs. Sharma. “All of my clothes were taken from strangers’ houses.”

“Well, some of us have bigger things to worry about than picking out a matching outfit,” said Lachlan. “Excuse us for having our priorities in order.”

“You think I don’t have bigger things to worry about?” said Mrs. Sharma. “You think I don’t have higher priorities? One of the most important things you learn in life is how to handle all of your priorities at once.”

“Doesn’t it make more sense to focus on the most important priorities?” said Lachlan.

“Yeah,” said Sam. “Why not dedicate your energy to the things that matter most and not waste any of it on stuff that really doesn’t affect anything?”

“Exactly,” said Lachlan.

“I don’t have to answer to two children who think they know better than I do,” said Mrs. Sharma.

“Spoken like a true person with no counterargument,” said Lachlan.

“I could come up with a counterargument,” said Mrs. Sharma, “but arguing with teenagers is not one of my priorities.”

“But putting together a swanky outfit is?” said Lachlan.

Mrs. Sharma turned her nose up at him and addressed the rest of the group.

“Anyway.” She cleared her throat. “First thing’s first. Jen, get off of my counter. Sam, if you’re going to use my chair, sit properly. I swear, it’s like all of you were raised by animals.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Jen slid off the counter and landed on the floor. “Sammy, you heard the lady!”

Sam rolled his eyes as he turned around to sit the right way.

“Now,” said Mrs. Sharma, “everyone look at me and pay attention. We need to discuss our way out of the Pit.”

Previous | Next

7.1

Anna B.Leave a comment

Previous | Next

Naomi

When they arrived at the half-arch door of the plain white house, there were voices coming from inside.

“That’s weird,” said Mahender. “She doesn’t usually have visitors.”

“Do you know who it could be?”

“No idea. The only other human person I’ve met in this place is this woman called Nancy. But she lives in an aeroplane on top of that giant building. She doesn’t leave if she can help it. I usually bring her supplies from the town. I can’t imagine she’s here.”

“Could it be a non-human person?” said Naomi. “There seem to be plenty of those here.”

“Hi!” said the creature with the tentacle hoop-skirt.

“Nah, she doesn’t really care for my brothers, and she hates Daves.”

“Daves?” said Naomi.

She felt a nudge at her shoulder and turned to see Falcon signing something. One of his brothers translated.

“We ran into one before when we first entered the Pit. It chased us for a while.”

“Oh. Right,” said Naomi. “What about the Sisters?”

“The Sisters are a whole other… complicated thing,” said Mahender. “I don’t think it’s one of them. Maybe it’s one of your friends.”

Naomi shrugged and raised her hand to knock on the door.

“Wait,” said Mahender. “Just one second.”

“What? Why?”

Mahender leaned toward the tall window beside the door. At first, Naomi thought he was trying to see in the house, but then he started ruffling hair with his hands. When he was finished, he shook his head back and forth, then looked at his reflection again. Then, he did the same thing with his beard. When he turned back to Naomi, the hair on the right side of his head stuck out at an angle that seemed to defy the laws of gravity.

“Well?” He said. “How do I look?”

“Um, were you… trying to fix your hair? Because it… looked better before.”

“Perfect.” He grinned. “I’m ready.”

Okay, then. Weird, but whatever. She had more important things to worry about. She knocked on the door.

She heard footsteps and muffled arguing, then the door swung open.

A short, brown-haired girl stood in the doorway waving at them. She looked far too young to be Mahender’s aunt, and she seemed very familiar. It took Naomi a moment to realize why.

“Angelina? I… what?”

“Hi, Naomi!” said Angelina. “Hi, guy I don’t know!” She stood on her toes to see who else was standing behind them, and her eyes lit up. “Oh! Falcon’s here! And you all must be his… brothers? Hi!”

“Angelina, what are you doing here?” said Naomi.

Before Angelina could answer, a woman rounded a corner inside the house and strode toward the door. She looked enough like Mahender that she had to be the aunt, but she was still a bit younger than Naomi had expected; she only looked about ten years older than him. She guessed it made sense; Mahender had said his aunt had gone to college in the nineties.

The woman pushed past Angelina, causing her to exclaim indignantly, and stood in the doorway, arms crossed.

“Hi, auntie,” said Mahender.

“Hi, idiot,” said the woman. “What do you want?”

Wow. Mahender hadn’t been exaggerating about his aunt being mean.

When Naomi pictured a judgmental aunt, she tended to think of backhanded compliments, or vaguely disparaging questions about her grades or love life. She had some relatives she considered difficult, but she couldn’t picture any of them greeting her with the words ‘hi, idiot’.

She pushed past her nerves and tried to smile at the woman, extending her hand for a handshake.

“Hi, you must be Mahender’s aunt. My name is Naomi.”

The woman accepted the handshake. Her nails were painted, which seemed odd for someone stranded in a place like this. Hadn’t Mahender said his aunt was supposed to be practical?

“I’m Mrs. Sharma,” she said. “You and my useless nephew can come in. Your fabrication friends will have to wait outside.”

Naomi looked back at Falcon, who gave her an encouraging nod.

“Can you tell him we’ll be back as soon as we can?” Naomi asked one of Falcon’s brothers.

The brother nodded a few of its heads and relayed the message.

“Great.” Naomi pushed her shoes off with her heels and moved them to the side with her foot. “We’ll be right back.”

Previous | Next

Interlude 15 – Are You Listening?

Anna B.Leave a comment

Previous | Next

Sam

The rational part of Sam was relieved that they’d run into other people, some of them familiar. He knew he was safer now, and more likely to make it home. He was relieved Chelsea was okay.

Still, there was a small, irrational part of him that felt intruded upon. Sudden changes in routine always threw him off, and he and Lachlan had slipped into a strange kind of routine in the last day–or however long they’d been there–working together to avoid danger and try to figure out some of this place’s mysteries. When the others had arrived, the shift had felt abrupt and jarring.

He knew it wasn’t fair of him to feel intruded on, not when he and Lachlan had been the ones snooping in Mrs. Sharma’s bedroom, but he found the feeling hard to shake.

Angelina sat on the sofa, looking down at her lap. Mrs. Sharma stared her down.

“The Italian team at CPSI discovered other–look at me when I’m talking to you–other planes of existence layered with our own. How could you have known about that?”

Angelina shrugged.

“Well?” said Mrs. Sharma.

“Well, what?” said Angelina. “Like… what do you want me to say?”

Mrs. Sharma sighed, rubbing her forehead.

“I want you to answer the question.”

“I thought I already answered it,” said Angelina.

“Okay, this is going nowhere.” Mrs. Sharma sighed again. “If you’re going to insist on being difficult, we’ll focus on what you know. We can come back to how you know it later.”

“Huh?” said Angelina.

“You said you knew a way out of here. I still find that very hard to believe, but I’m willing to entertain whatever idea you have. Especially given that you know things about the nature of reality itself that should be impossible for you to know.”

“Well, this conversation has taken an unexpected twist,” Lachlan whispered to Sam.

“Yeah!” whispered Jen. “The nature of reality itself? This is like a TV show or something.”

Something that could have been irritation flashed over Lachlan’s face, and Sam wondered if Lachlan felt the intrusion too. Either that, or he was just annoyed by everyone he met.

Sam could understand that. Most people were pretty annoying.

“Like I said before,” said Angelina, “does anyone have a notebook?”

“Yeah, we have one,” said Sam.

He reached into his bag with his right hand. He felt the notebook at the bottom of the bag, but his fingers–

Oh. Right. His fingers.

His palm throbbed as he lifted the notebook with his thumb, ring finger, and little finger.

He’d found it interesting how easy it had been to adjust to his missing fingers, and how little conscious effort it had taken on his part. His hand had quickly and instinctively found workarounds, his ring finger stepping in to fulfill the purpose of his lost index finger.

Still, all the unfamiliar motions were wreaking havoc on his hand muscles, to the point where every motion of his right hand made it more sore. The notebook nearly slipped out of his grasp, but he managed to hand it to Angelina, practically dropping it into her lap.

“Thanks!” she said.

She glanced at his hand, opening her mouth as though she was going to say something, then closed it again.

“No problem,” said Sam.

“Okay!” Angelina looked around at everyone, as if to ensure she had everyone’s attention. “So it’s like this. This page is our reality, and this page is like another layer. And right now, we’re here. In between the pages…”

Previous | Next

Interlude 14 – Kids

Anna B.1 Comment

Previous | Next

Mona

Mona’s head was swimming. She had a rare urge to sit down, to sink into her sofa in an undignified slouch, but she resisted. She didn’t want to sit down in front of these kids, and she didn’t slouch ever.

As if reading her mind and mocking her, Angelina plopped down onto the couch, throwing her legs over the arm and sliding her backpack under her head as a makeshift pillow. Mona shot the girl a glare, but didn’t say anything. She had more important things to think about.

For nearly two years, she’d been alone, with only mutated fabrications, her useless nephew, and the woman with the airplane providing occasional company. She wasn’t used to being surrounded by people, let alone five unruly college kids.

She wondered how her husband managed, being a college professor. She wouldn’t have been able to tolerate it. But then, Rahul had always been the more patient one in their marriage.

These noisy kids had dropped information on her that had turned her desolate existence on its head. After two years of doing nothing but searching, she knew where Sarah was. She could be reasonably certain Sarah was alive. And they weren’t even letting her process it.

Sarah was still in CPSI’s clutches, doing their dirty work, but she was safe. She was in Charlotte.

Mona had been searching every corner of the Pit for two years, and Sarah was in the one place she couldn’t reach her.

Angelina had mentioned a way to get out of the Pit. Mona highly doubted the girl had figured out anything worthwhile, but she didn’t have any other leads at this point.

“Angelina,” she said.

Angelina lay on the sofa, singing to herself and tapping out a beat on the cushion.

“Angelina,” said Mona again, more sharply this time.

Angelina jerked her head up, startled.

“Eh? Cosa? Oh.” Angelina at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed. “What’s up?”

Mona frowned down at her.

“First of all, if you’re going to sit on my sofa, sit properly.”

“No, I’m good like this. It’s more comfy.”

“That wasn’t a request.”

Angelina sighed, swinging her legs over the chair arm and swiveling into a seated position. She pulled the backpack into her lap and hugged it to her body as she slouched backward into the cushion.

“I said sit properly. Straighten your back and put your bag down.”

Angelina tossed her bag to the ground and sat up a fraction straighter, mumbling something under her breath in Italian. Mona didn’t understand the words, but it sounded sarcastic.

“I’m going to ignore whatever you just said under your breath and get straight to the point. You said you knew a way out of this place. Tell me what you think you know.”

The boy with the bandaged hand–Sam, Mona thought he’d said his name was–perked up.

“You know how to get out of here? How?”

The other boy, Lachlan, gave his companion a look that communicated exactly what Mona had suspected. Angelina had no idea what she was talking about.

Still, Mona didn’t have anything better to go on.

“It’s like this,” Angelina began. “There are all these different layers to reality, and stuff can pass in between them in a specific pattern. Does someone have a notebook? That would help me explain it more–“

Mona wasn’t sure what she’d expected Angelina to say, but it certainly hadn’t been that.

“How do you know about that?” Mona interrupted.

Angelina stared at her, blinking with large, vacant-looking brown eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“You said there were layers to reality. It’s a crude description, but an accurate one. How did you know about that?”

Angelina blinked at her again.

“It’s obvious if you look hard enough.”

Mona frowned, unsure what to say.

It most definitely was not obvious. What was becoming obvious was that this girl wasn’t at all what she seemed.

Previous | Next

6.16

Anna B.1 Comment

Previous | Next

Lachlan

Sure enough, Chelsea stood in the living room, along with two other girls. A short blonde girl Lachlan didn’t recognize stood beside Chelsea, while a familiar-looking girl with chin-length brown hair lounged on the couch, her legs dangling over the arm. It took Lachlan a moment to realize who the brunette girl was.

“Angelina? I… what? How the motherfuck are you here?”

Before Angelina could answer, the blonde girl let out a shriek, running toward Sam and nearly knocking him over with a hug.

“Sammy-wammy! You’re alive!”

Sammy-wammy? Lachlan would have to remember to give Sam a hard time about that.

“Jen?” Sam looked startled. “What are you doing here?”

So this was Sam’s girlfriend? She was pretty good-looking, Lachlan guessed, but something about her bothered him.

“I was looking for you because you disappeared, and then there was this girl looking for Chelsea, and then this other lady tried to kill her but I saved her life! Then the other lady was like–“

“That’s enough,” said the woman with the axes. “I can sum it up for you. Jen was looking for you after you went missing. She ran into Chelsea’s friend Naomi, who was looking for Chelsea–“

“Wait, is Naomi here too?” said Lachlan.

“Don’t interrupt me,” said the woman. “Jen and Naomi ran into an… old friend of mine who was working for CPSI. She trapped them here, along with a biotechnologically engineered human calling himself Falcon. They were attacked by a creature and Jen became separated from the group. The end. There. I just saved us all about twenty minutes of listening to Jen chatter on. You’re welcome.”

“I still have some questions,” said Sam.

“So Falcon and Naomi are here?” said Lachlan. “We have to find them.”

“Falcon’s one of the Stanley fabrications, correct?” said the woman.

“I… think so?” Jen looked up, still latched onto Sam like an overly chipper, blonde vice.

“If so, he’ll probably be fine, at least for the time being. He’ll have plenty of allies here,” said the woman. “If I were you, I’d be more concerned about this Naomi you mentioned.”

“Can we like, take a time-out for a second?” said Jen, finally untangling herself from Sam and facing the group. “I think some of us should probably introduce ourselves, because I have no clue who Sam’s hot friend is, and he looks super confused too.”

Hot friend, huh? Lachlan revised his initial impression of Jen. Maybe she wasn’t so bad. At the very least, she had good taste in men.

“Fine,” said the woman.

“Why don’t we go around in a circle and say our name, how we ended up in the Pit, and one fun fact about ourselves?” said Jen.

“No,” said the woman.

“I’ll go first. Hey, y’all, I’m Jen Washer, and I was stranded here by a crazy lady while looking for my boyfriend–hi, Sammy! My fun fact is that I have a black belt in Taekwando.”

“We’re not doing this,” said the woman.

“I’ll go next!” said Angelina. “My name is Angelina–that’s long for ‘Angela’–and I ended up here after I went to Borgo San Severino to look for clues about what happened to my friend Chelsea. My fun fact is that I am the president and founder of the official Italian street team of the greatest band in the whole entire universe–The Goldfish Technique!”

“It’s not a real street team,” said Lachlan. “It’s you and your twelve-year-old sister.”

“Does this mean you’re going next, friend of Sam’s?” said Jen.

Lachlan shrugged. “If I must. I’m Lachlan Newton, I was ambushed outside of my work by what I now assume were CPSI goons, shoved into a van, and thrown into this delightful place. My fun fact about myself is that I’m a much bigger fan of The Goldfish Technique than Angelina is–Oi!” He dodged as Angelina hurled a small, round object at his head. It bounced off the wall behind him and rolled to his feet, and he saw it was a grape.

Angelina was so weird.

“Don’t throw grapes at me!” he said. “What’s the matter with you?”

Angelina stuck out her tongue.

“Oh, that’s very mature,” he said.

“Your butt is mature,” she retorted.

The woman with the axes sighed, rubbing her temples.

“I’ll go next,” said Chelsea. “I’m Chelsea Brown, I was caught by a woman named Sarah and put in here, and my fun fact is that I collect odd things.”

“What constitutes an ‘odd thing’?” said Sam.

“I know it when I see it,” said Chelsea. “Um, I have medical antiques, a Victorian locket with someone’s hair in it, a toad skeleton encased in resin… You know. Odd things. I find them at antique stores and stuff.”

Lachlan gestured at Angelina, who was clinging to Chelsea’s side, draped over her arm like a coat.

“Is she part of your collection?” he said.

Angelina made a face at him.

Jen threw an arm around Sam, squeezing his shoulders.

“Your turn, Sammy!” she said.

“Okay, then,” said Sam. “My name is Sam, a machine sent me here while I was trying to save Chelsea, and my fun fact is that when I was a kid, my family moved out of our house because my dad thought it was haunted. And… I guess that means it’s her turn.” He looked at the woman with the axes.

“Fine,” said the woman. “My name is Mrs. Sharma, I was sent here because I was a CPSI employee who no longer served their interests, and my ‘fun fact’ is that I need an aspirin.”

Previous | Next

6.15

Anna B.1 Comment

Previous | Next

Lachlan

Sam pulled one sword off the wall, reaching with his right hand first, then reconsidering and grabbing it in his left hand. He brandished the first sword in his left hand, then reached for the other with his right hand. He tried to grab the other sword’s hilt, fumbling with it for a second before it slipped out of his hand and fell onto the table, knocking over several small bottles and sending them rolling to the floor.

Lachlan crossed the small room and reached for the fallen sword. He picked it up.

“Hey,” said Sam. “I wanted both swords.”

“If you have both swords, one or both of us is going to end up extremely decapitated,” whispered Lachlan. “And keep your voice down.”

Four sets of footsteps approached, and the voices were loud enough that Lachlan had no trouble hearing what they were saying.

“They’re in my weapon storage room,” said one voice. “You three wait here.”

The speaker’s accent sounded Indian with a hint of American. Her tone was measured yet clipped, with an authoritative edge.

“Wait, you have a weapon storage room?” said a second voice. The speaker sounded American. She had a very slight Southern twang, but rather than having a stereotypical slow drawl, she spoke as though she’d recently downed about ten shots of espresso. “Why am I not surprised you’ve got a weapon storage room?”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay? We don’t know who or what’s in there.” said a third voice. This voice sounded familiar, but Lachlan couldn’t place it.

“I’m more than capable of handling myself,” said the authoritative voice. “I doubt you three could say the same.”

Lachlan relaxed a fraction. This didn’t sound like a conversation between bloodthirsty monsters.

The door opened, and Sam brandished his sword with surprising grace.

A woman’s silhouette appeared in the doorway. She had two strange shapes over her shoulders that Lachlan first thought were strange, tall shoulder pads, then realized were two axes strapped to her back.

Sam lowered his sword a fraction.

The woman switched on a lantern that lay on the desk, giving Lachlan a better look at her facial expression.

She did not look pleased.

“Would you like to explain what you’re doing in my bedroom, rifling through my desk?” she said. “And put those swords down. You look ridiculous.”

Sam lowered the sword to his side, looking sheepish.

“Maybe he looks ridiculous,” said Lachlan. “I happen to think I look rather awesome and badass.”

The woman scoffed.

“I’m not a threat to you, and you two idiots wouldn’t know what to do with those swords if I was.”

“Forgive me for being suspicious,” said Lachlan, “but how do we know you’re not a threat to us?”

“Because if I wanted to kill you, I could have easily done so already.”

“Huh. Fair enough.”

The woman crossed her arms.

“You still haven’t explained what you’re doing in my room.” She looked down at the floor and frowned as she spotted the trail of faint, bloody footprints from Sam’s shoes. “Or why you’ve tracked dirt into my house.”

Sam slid his shoes off and kicked them toward the corner of the room.

“We were just looking around,” said Sam. “All the other houses were empty, so we thought this one was too.”

“Hm,” said the woman. “I guess I can excuse you breaking in here. That was an understandable mistake. What’s not understandable is why you thought it was acceptable to ransack my desk.”

Lachlan paused, unable to think of a reply. In retrospect, what they’d done hadn’t been such a good idea.

“Um, such is the folly of youth?” he finally said.

“Even at five years old, I knew better than to dig through another person’s things.” The woman sighed. “So, I guess the two of you are stuck here just like the young ladies in the other room–although calling them ‘young ladies’ feels like stretching the truth.”

“We’re looking for a ‘young lady’, actually,” said Sam. “My coworker Chelsea. I got stuck here when I was trying to help her.”

“Chelsea. Yes. She’s back in the living room,” said the woman. “Her and her two very obnoxious friends. Come with me. I’ll take you to them.”

Previous | Next

6.13

Anna B.1 Comment

Previous | Next

Angelina

“I have to get out of here,” Mrs. Sharma said. “I have to find her. If she’s still with CPSI…”

Angelina didn’t completely understand what was going on, but Mrs. Sharma seemed to know this Sarah, even care about her. Luckily for Mrs. Sharma, Angelina could help.

“I figured out a way out of this place, I think,” said Angelina.

Mrs. Sharma snapped back into her stern demeanor.

“Somehow, I highly doubt that,” said Mrs. Sharma.

Her tone reminded Angelina of a teacher admonishing her for not doing her homework. Few things were more frustrating than an authority figure speaking to her in that tone, and while Mrs. Sharma didn’t have any real authority over them, she certainly seemed to think she did.

“I did!” said Angelina. “I figured it all out in a notebook. It’s right–hold on…”

She shimmied one shoulder out of a backpack strap and cumbersomely shifted the bag to the front of her body, wincing as it bumped against the wounds on her ribs. She unzipped the bag, and a few grapes she’d picked while she was walking the Sentiero Angelica tumbled to the ground. Mrs. Sharma raised an eyebrow.

Angelina had never understood how some people could open backpacks and reach in, pulling out the exact item they were looking for in one fluid motion.

She stuck her hand in and felt for her notebook, but felt only pencil shavings, a crumpled piece of paper, and a couple grapes. Oops. She’d forgotten the notebook.

“Well, uh, it’s not right here. I must have left it with the snake guy. But Chelsea can tell you! Right C?”

Chelsea nodded.

“She really did figure something out,” said Chelsea. “If anyone can help us get home, it’s Angelina.”

A trace of nervousness flashed across Mrs. Sharma’s stoic face.

“What do you mean you left it with the snake guy? What snake guy?”

“We sort of… I guess fell into this really weird place,” said Chelsea. “I’m honestly not really sure what happened. There was this… snake-man creature who captured us and showed us these illusions that… well, I don’t want to get into it, but suffice to say, they weren’t very nice.”

Chelsea laughed humorlessly, an almost imperceptible shudder passing over her body.

“Zogzhesh,” said Mrs. Sharma. “I’ve encountered him.”

Hadn’t Zogzhesh mentioned meeting a human woman?

“I think he told us about you,” said Angelina. “You’re the other person who smelled like the terrible ones?”

“Excuse me?”

“Wow, rude much?” said Jen.

Angelina was confused for a second, then realized how her comment had been misconstrued.

“No, that’s not what I meant!” said Angelina. “I didn’t mean you smell terrible. You smell good, actually! Especially for someone trapped in a place without showers!”

Mrs. Sharma frowned.

“My friend is referring to something Zogzhesh said,” Chelsea clarified.

“Yeah,” said Angelina, “He said he smelled the terrible ones on me, whatever that means. He said it explained why I escaped him, and why I could figure out so much about how this place works. He said he met another woman who was the same way.”

“Ah,” said Mrs. Sharma. “I understand what you mean now. I suspect he was mistaken about you, though. You don’t strike me as someone with any exceptional abilities.”

“That’s not true,” said Chelsea. “When we got trapped in Zogzhesh’s… whatever, she pulled us out somehow. And she’s figured out a lot about how this place works. She’s one of the smartest people I know.”

A slight smirk formed on Mrs. Sharma’s face.

“You must not know very many people.” She turned around and resumed walking down the street, throwing a glance over her shoulder at them without breaking her stride. “Come on. We can talk more when we get to my house. We’re wasting time standing around here, and I hate wasting time.”

Previous | Next

6.12

Anna B.Leave a comment

Previous | Next

Chelsea

Mrs. Sharma slowed her pace when Jen mentioned the name Sarah, her head twitching almost imperceptibly as though she had wanted to whip around to face them and stopped herself.

Chelsea considered asking about Sarah, then decided against it. Mrs. Sharma had made it clear she didn’t want them to ask questions.

“Sarah?” Angelina’s eyes widened as she turned to Chelsea. “Falcon said Sarah was the one who took you.”

Mrs. Sharma’s head perked up in front of them.

“Yeah,” said Jen. “Sarah was the one who tricked me, Naomi, and Falcon. She had these cool freaky powers, and she trapped us here.”

This time, Mrs. Sharma didn’t resist the urge to whip her head around. She stopped walking so abruptly, Angelina narrowly avoided stumbling into her. Mrs. Sharma fixed Jen with an intense stare. Her expression was purposefully neutral, but with a fierce spark in her dark eyes that looked almost hopeful.

“Um, hi?” said Jen.

“What kind of cool freaky powers?” said Mrs. Sharma.

“Like… telekinesis powers,” said Jen. “Like she could use her hands to do stuff without touching anything, you know?”

Mrs. Sharma’s neutral, vaguely annoyed visage slipped away almost entirely, replaced with an expression that looked almost frantic.

“And you said this Sarah works for CPSI?”

“Hey,” said Angelina. “Why are you allowed to ask us questions?”

Mrs. Sharma shot Angelina a silencing glare.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” said Jen.

“What are you talking about?” said Mrs. Sharma.

“You said you had someone worth fighting for. I take it Sarah’s your someone, right? She has to be.”

“That’s none of your business.”

Mrs. Sharma’s voice was soft, but retained some of its intense edge.

“I don’t know what Jen’s talking about, but I think that probably means yes,” said Angelina.

The comment earned her another glare.

Mrs. Sharma stopped walking and turned to face them. Angelina didn’t stop walking in time. Chelsea grabbed her arm to stop her from colliding with Mrs. Sharma.

“Tell me where she is,” said Mrs. Sharma.

“I don’t really know,” said Chelsea.

“I don’t either,” said Jen. “She tricked us into coming here, but she didn’t come here herself.”

“Where was she when you last saw her?” said Mrs. Sharma.

“Well, I was at the CPSI headquarters,” said Jen. “In the engineering building.”

“Me too,” said Chelsea.

“I’ve never even seen this Sarah person before,” said Angelina.

“How is she? Is she safe? Is she alright?”

“I mean, like, I guess?” said Jen. “She was kinda…violent, but technically you could say she was safe and alright?”

“All this time,” said Mrs. Sharma. “All this time, I’ve been searching for her here, and they never sent her here.”

“Are you okay?” said Chelsea. “I’m… not really sure what’s going on, but you seem like you’re processing something big right now.”

“I think I am okay,” said Mrs. Sharma. Her voice was still soft, with none of its previous intensity. “I think I’m more okay than I’ve been in a long time, actually.”

Previous | Next

Interlude 13 – Straight Ahead

Anna B.Leave a comment

Previous | Next

Mona

Mona glanced back at the three girls to make sure they were following, then quickened her pace.

Ugh. This was just what she needed.

She had considered letting the girls go off on their own after they’d been reunited, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to do so. She couldn’t just leave three defenseless girls to get eaten, as tempting the blonde one and especially the brown-haired one were making it.

Maybe she would have felt differently if they weren’t so young. Young enough to make her think of her own kids, though these girls were at least five years older and far less polite. Young people, even the most useless ones, were still full of potential, and if she wrote these girls off as not worth saving, she would be robbing them of that potential. No one deserved that, not even a scruffy brat like that brown-haired girl.

Of course, that meant Mona was stuck with a babysitting job when she had far more important things to do.

“Um, excuse me, ma’am?” said the chatty blonde one. Jen, she’d said her name was.

“What?” said Mona.

“I think I kinda hurt my ankle?”

Oh, great. This one was a whiner.

“What do you want me to do about it?”

“Um, like, maybe slow down? Just a smidge?”

“Walk it off. Quit being a baby.”

“Maybe it would be a good idea to slow down for a bit. I’m sure we’re all pretty tired.”

The redhead, Chelsea, was speaking now. So far, she’d proven to be the most tolerable of the three.

“I’ve fought off creatures ten times my size, suffered far worse injuries, and walked for way longer than this. You’ll be fine. Just keep up.”

“Where are we even going?” said the brown-haired girl. Angelina. The worst one.

Mona had disliked Angelina at first glance, with her disheveled hair and dirty boots, and Angelina had only reinforced that dislike in the few minutes they’d known each other. Mona was tempted to ignore the question, but the girls did have a right to know where she was leading them.

“I’m leading you to my house. I was headed that way anyway, and it should give you a chance to regroup and tell me more about these friends you’re looking for. The sooner you find them, the sooner I can get you out of my hair.”

“Just out of curiosity, can I ask why you’re helping us?” said Jen.

“You’d be as good as dead if I didn’t. I can’t in good conscience leave you to fend for yourselves. Though if you keep bothering me with questions, I might reconsider.”

“When you say your house, does that mean you actually live in this Pit place?” said Jen.

“What did I just say?” said Mona.

“To stop bothering you with quest–oh. Yeah. Sorry. Yes, ma’am. No more questions.”

“I have a question,” said Angelina.

Mona stopped walking and whipped around to glare at her. Angelina seemed to shrink under her gaze. Good.

“My house isn’t much farther now,” Mona continued, answering Jen’s question before Angelina had the chance to speak. “And yes, I do live in this place. Not by choice, obviously. I was sent here against my will, like I’m guessing the three of you were. I can’t help but wonder what three kids like you could have done to piss off someone as powerful as the Clydes.”

“What? Piss off someone as powerful as the Clydes? Do you mean like, Billy and Lily Clyde?” Jen paused. “Wait, did that count as a question?”

“I’ll let it slide,” said Mona. “So you didn’t do anything to piss off the Clydes. At least, not as far as you know. So if CPSI didn’t send you here, how did you end up here?”

“I wasn’t sent here either,” said Angelina. “I came here on my own to find C. And I found her! Yay!”

“I wasn’t talking to you,” said Mona.

Angelina’s statement piqued Mona’s curiosity even more, but she wasn’t about to reward rudeness.

“Um, I came here looking for Chelsea too,” said Jen, “and my boyfriend, Sam, but I obviously still haven’t found him yet.”

“That doesn’t explain how you got here in the first place.”

“Um, it’s a long story.”

“Most things you say seem to be. Try to summarize it.”

“Um, well, long story short, I was supposed to drive my boyfriend home ’cause he can’t drive, but I couldn’t find him anywhere at work. So I was looking for him, right? And it was getting really late, and I was kinda worried, and then I saw this girl who was talking on the phone, and she said she was looking for someone–“

“How is this a ‘long story short’?”

“Right, sorry, so um, basically, she was looking for Chelsea, and this lady named Sarah came up and said she was also looking for Chelsea.”

Sarah?

Could it be…

No. Mona dislodged the thought with a quick shake of her head. It was a ridiculous idea. Sarah was an extremely common name. There was no reason to be sentimental about a coincidence.

Previous | Next