Hey guys!
Here it is- the next chapter. Thank you as always for reading, reviewing and favoriting.
To the reviewer who asked when we get back to Kurt's POV: Right now, I'm using the lack of his view to symbolise how blocked-off he is. Also, I don't yet want you guys to know what is going on behind the Bubble, because that'll give the game away. I brought in the Janitor to bring a little variety rather than just Blaine all the time. Don't worry, though; it's not long now and Kurt, Santana, Rachel return- for better or worse...
Enjoy!
One of the harassed-looking tech guys came out of the room with all the computer screens and walked quickly down the corridor, muttering wildly under his breath with his arms full of papers. He pushed roughly past the janitor and his trolley, not even seeming to notice him in his evident preoccupation. As the young man continued on down the passage, the janitor noticed a piece of paper lying on the floor, stark white against grey linoleum. Curious, he bent down and picked it up. The side facing up was blank, but the other side showed a picture of a young man with large, pale eyes and a bright smile. He looked cheerful and carefree. In the background, the janitor could just make out a library full of books.
But next to the picture was a large, bright red cross, slicing across the white paper and part of the picture itself and spelling the young man's doom. The janitor shuddered, and was about to follow the man and give it back when he paused and stared intently at the red mark. After a moment, he carefully slid the sheet of paper under a pile of cleaning utensils on his trolley. He wasn't sure why, but something made him want to keep it hidden.
The dreary, dull surroundings had made Blaine expect an equally drab apartment, but the room the woman led them into surprised him.
It was a small living room, cozy and warm. Three plump armchairs and a flowery couch were crammed around a tiny coffee table of polished wood. Together, they almost filled up the whole room. The little space left was filled with random knickknacks and photographs of smiling children.
It was a huge contrast not only to the grey exterior, but also to the serious, unsmiling woman who had brought them in here. Something about her somber demeanor just didn't fit to the cheerful décor.
They were told to sit down, so David and Cooper wedged themselves onto the couch whilst Blaine and Josh perched uneasily on the armchairs. Their unexpected host disappeared through a side door near Blaine, leaving them alone and nervous. Was this the trap they had been so nervous of? Who was this woman?
Blaine strained to hear something through the door. To his astonishment, he was fairly sure he could hear the rattling of cups. He shared a blank look with the others. What was going on?
The door opened again, and the woman came back through bearing cups and pots on a tea tray so huge it dwarfed her by comparison. Blaine, being the nearest, automatically stood up to help her by taking it and putting it safely down on the coffee table.
She looked at him, startled at his helpfulness; then broke into the first true smile they'd seen on her face. It made an amazing difference- for that brief moment, she looked friendly and kind. 'Thank you, dear.' she said.
'You're welcome.' said Blaine, seating himself again. Somehow, that smile had made him feel a little more at ease, though the tense, nervous feeling remained.
'I'm afraid I only have coffee, because I never did drink tea.' she told them apologetically. 'But I have fresh milk and sugar.'
She gestured to a little flowered milk jug and a matching sugar bowl sitting neatly on the tray.
Blaine shared a what? look with the others. Of all the possible outcomes of meeting an unknown person where they suspected a trap, drinking coffee with said unknown person was not what they'd expected.
'Poisoned coffee?' mouthed Cooper from behind the old lady's back, an eyebrow raised.
Somehow, Blaine didn't think so. He wasn't sure whether or not to trust this woman completely, but that brief smile had been genuine. He gave his head an almost imperceptible shake, and mouthed 'No.' back at Cooper as the woman sat down and looked round at them.
'So where are you kids from?' she asked.
Blaine bristled slightly at the 'kids', then realized what a startling question that was from someone who could be a spy. Although- did he still believe that she was? He wasn't sure.
'Uh, we're from a pretty small town near here.' said David cautiously.
She gestured for them to help themselves to the coffee, which admittedly smelled wonderful. After another shared nervous look, they picked up a mug each and took a small sip.
It was, as a slight anticlimax, just very nice coffee, not too sweet and not too strong. Blaine felt himself anxiously tasting for anything strange, and then realized he was being ridiculous. He didn't even know what poison tasted like, after all. How was he meant to recognize it?
When no sudden feelings of nausea or dizziness hit him, he bravely started drinking properly.
He was feeling more confused than ever. Assuming that 'Luke' was the guy they were looking for, this woman obviously knew something about his whereabouts, maybe even what had happened to him. Was she willing to tell them? She must have had some reason for inviting them in. Assuming she really was just a neighbor and not some member of 'Organization X', had this Luke maybe told her to look out for people who had read that last, desperate blog entry? Was she going to help them?
'So, uh, can you tell us anything about Luke?' asked David.
Blaine looked up, surprised; he had been expecting to have to ask that himself.
'I know plenty about Luke, I've known him for a good while now.' she said, with another strange smile. 'But I don't know anything about you. Are we going to trust each other?'
It was a surprisingly frank question, and a necessary if difficult one. How, after all, could they trust this strange person they had never met before when they weren't even certain they could trust the one they were looking for?
'We might as well give trust a go.' said David briskly. That guy really wanted answers, Blaine realized.
'Then tell me about yourselves.'
It was a command barely masked by the gentleness with which she spoke. This time, Blaine replied.
'We're- concerned, I guess. About Luke and- and stuff he may know. Important stuff. About- big things.' He spoke awkwardly, worried about saying too much.
She smiled encouragingly. 'I'm a little more up to trusting you now, if that makes you feel any better.'
Blaine realized that his palms were sweating with tension. This was intense, even though she looked so harmless. He could only see two outcomes of this: either she was helpful and told them about Luke, or she was a spy of some sort, in which case they were done for.
'Anything else you can tell me?' Was she nervous as well?
'Yes.' croaked Blaine. 'This is really, really important to us.' The admission hung in the room.
Then she clapped her wrinkled hands and smiled another real smile.
'That's enough for me.' she said. 'I'm willing to talk to you. I believe you're on our side.'
'Then tell us, please.' said David desperately.
'All in good time, my lad. First, I have to introduce you to someone. You can come in!' She called the last bit loudly in the direction of the kitchen door.
After an astonished moment, it opened and the 'someone' came in.
He was about their age, quite short but not as short as Blaine. He looked sincere and friendly, the only odd thing about him being how very pale his eyes were. But his smile was warm and genuine, if slightly uneasy.
'Hi.' he said briefly. 'I'm Luke Quince.'
They goggled at him for a moment, dumbfounded. He'd been just behind that door all the time! This was the person behind that panicked blog entry, the guy they'd been searching for!
'Luke, nice to meet you, um, I'm Blaine.' he stammered nervously.
'Uh, we read your blog.' added David. 'We thought- that is, we wondered if you know something.'
Josh spoke up. Blaine jumped; the boy had been so silent, he'd almost forgotten he was there.
'You seemed to have discovered a large-scale scam or something. We figured it was connected to what happened in New York.'
The old woman stood up. 'I'll leave all you boys to talk, then.' she said. 'I'll be next door if anyone wants more coffee.'
Luke took her place.
'I'm glad you've come.' he said. 'I hoped so much that someone would come across that message. I'm being followed, which is why I'm not in my apartment anymore.'
'Is this really the best place to hide? The apartment next door?' queried Cooper.
'Who would guess it? Me staying with the possibly insane neighbor? Nah, dude, they think I've fled to California. I left a note on my kitchen table saying I'd gone to stay with a friend, and when they came to search- they left again. I think they believed it.'
'Who's 'they'?' asked David eagerly. 'That's what we really want to know.'
Luke leaned forward. They moved closer.
'It's the US government.' he said softly.
David punched the air. 'I knew it!' he hissed. 'All that Bubble stuff, all the rest of it- I knew only the President and his pals have powers that huge.'
'Yeah, well, it's not just the real world, either, dude. They're taking over the virtual world, too.'
'We figured.' said Josh grimly. 'After what you wrote about Google and Facebook. Plus, they've closed down your blog host.'
'Really? A site that secure? Then it's even worse than I thought, and that's saying loads.'
'So what have you worked out so far?' asked Blaine.
Luke took a few deep breaths, obviously calming himself down.
'You know The Incident?' he said. 'You know that almost immediately after it happened, most photographic evidence was deleted from the Internet? Not just from the bigger sites, either; from more obscure ones, too. And the Bubble was put in place very quickly. Well, that's where I got suspicious. I mean, one of the world's major cities gets isolated completely and not one damn person says a word?
'So I took to the Internet and started searching. And I found that comments mentioning the Bubble in a negative way or even just questioning it were being deleted from Facebook and the other social networks. The first few days you got it a lot. People would write something about 'how can they do this?' and five minutes later the comment would be gone. Then it got less and less. The comments just stopped. I wondered, are these people just giving up because they know someone's scanning what they write, or are these dudes actually being threatened?
'So I set up a few Facebook and Twitter accounts, and I threw around a few comments of the 'what's going on behind the Bubble?' sort. At first, they just vanished. Then, after a while, I got messages saying something along the lines of: Your behavior is inappropriate and causing panic amongst citizens. Cease spreading rumors immediately or you will have to deal with the consequences.
'These messages were unsigned but looked very official. It wasn't like I'd even been spreading rumors, just asking questions. Anyhow, I dived down into the hidden sites. At first, they were pretty safe. I could message other dudes without it being censored, and I found several who were thinking the same sort of stuff I was. Thing is, after a few days, they stopped writing back. One by one, it was like they had been swallowed by the Internet.
'I also realized that searches on Google for 'Bubble criticism' and things like that turned up no results. Instead, someone started trying to hack into my laptop. I was being targeted because of what I'd searched. Finally, I made the idiotic mistake a few days ago of posting 'inappropriate' comments on my own, real Facebook page instead of a fake one. Fatal mistake, obviously, because now they know who I really am. Then I get this threatening message on my actual laptop, when I wasn't even on the Internet. It showed my name and my address and told me I was being watched and my behavior was being monitored.
'Well, I kind freaked out then. I got my other laptop and went onto my blog and just wrote. Then I fled my apartment and came to hide out with Mrs. G. I was worried that, whatever had happened to those other guys, it was going to happen to me next. And sure enough, yesterday cops came. At least, they looked like cops. But they've gone now.'
The room was silent for a moment. Then David voiced their thoughts. 'Wow.' he said, 'that's really-'
His voice broke off. Startled, Blaine looked at him. David was staring over Blaine's shoulder, his eyes widened with fear.
Slowly, Blaine turned around, and find himself staring into the muzzle of a gun.
A review a day keeps depression away... and gets creative juices flowing. So go on, who d'you reckon is holding that gun?