Mallory tumbled out of the vortex onto an abandoned street, still in his black army garb. Luckily, he had landed on his right side and came to a stop before hitting the curb, with his body facing towards a red brick building with a faded sign that read "Tim's Bakery" with assorted treats listed under and next to it. Seconds later, Diana slid through, then came to a crouch-rolling stop. She was still wearing her black slacks, white t-shirt, grey cardigan, and white sneakers.
The vortex closed behind her, and she quickly ran to the fallen Mallory's side. His breathing was still shallow, but at least he was alive.
Looking up, she noticed the red sky. It might have been sunset, and it seemed to be darker than usual, but the color looked a little too angry. Around her, she observed several abandoned buildings, long since picked clean of supplies, and a few abandoned cars, gathering dust. She thought quickly about what to do. If she shouted for help, she might bring a pack of wild animals or murderous looters on her. But if she stayed quiet... She looked down at Mallory, mind racing. A quick check of the white timer revealed that she only had four hours.
(Maybe if I can just hold on until then...) she thought. Soon, though, the decision was made for her.
A fair-skinned woman with long brown hair, a pudgy face, and brown eyes slowly peeked her head around the corner of the bakery. Diana looked at her, unsure of what to do. The woman neither said nor did anything for a few uncomfortable seconds. Finally, she blinked, then slowly revealed a creepy smile. "Who might you be?" she asked, then stepped completely out into the street. She was slightly plump, and wearing all white: a white, long-sleeved sweater, a long white skirt, and white sandals.
There was no point trying to hide now. "I'm Diana," she answered. "Dr. Diana Davis."
The woman, continuing her smile, took a few steps forward. "Dr.," she started as her right eye twitched once, "Diana Davis. It's a pleasure to meet you." She looked down to Diana's left. "And this man?"
"Mallory," Diana answered. There was movement to her right. A chocolate skinned-man, bearing the same smile, slowly emerged from an abandoned pet shop. His black hair was short and curly, and his piercing brown eyes stared out from his gently curved face. He wore the same clothes as the woman, but he kept his hands behind him. "I..." Diana stammered, surprised by the sudden appearance of the man. "I think he's hurt. He's barely breathing."
The smiling woman looked down with a face that looked like it was trying to mime compassion. "Oh, that's terrible," she said. Another woman, dark-haired and more overweight, stepped out from the same side street beyond the bakery, also smiling. "We'll have to do something about that. Where do you two come from?"
Diana's heart raced. "We're from out of town," she answered. "We weren't here long before he collapsed."
The woman knelt down next to Mallory, then locked an extremely uncomfortable gaze with Diana. There was a feeling like a buzzing between them: intuition, a kind of energy... or maybe a warning. "Can you be more specific?" the woman asked, putting a hand down on Mallory's unmoving body. "I'd love to learn more about you two."
"C... California," Diana stammered, her hands shaking. The woman would not stop looking at her or smiling, and the other two were getting closer. "I've worked in different labs in LA, San Diego, sometimes in San Fran. I'm from all over, really."
Without warning, the man from the pet shop put his hand on her shoulder. Diana jumped and pulled away, closer to Mallory. "What are you..." she started, then saw another half a dozen people in the same clothes walking towards her from ahead, all bearing the smile. Turning the other direction, there were three more approaching from behind.
"What do you study?" the first woman asked. Diana scooted farther away from the people, putting her left arm over Mallory's body. "Physics," she answered back, louder than she wanted. "Look, my friend needs help. I don't know what's wrong." She paused. "Who are you? What do you want? Why are you acting like this?" she asked, her voice shaking more with every question.
The woman followed her every move with her soulless eyes and smile. "All we want is to learn from you," she said, reaching a hand out to Diana's cheek. Diana pulled back, bumping straight into the legs of two more smiling people in white, while the third knelt down to touch Mallory's head. She looked around in a panic, her body refusing to move.
A high-pitched whine filled the air. Looking up, still smiling, the growing crowd of people in white raised their hands to their faces in unison, and a blue light exploded above them, sending a wave of energy out in a massive sphere than encompassed the entire street block. Quick footsteps dashed from behind Diana, and then there were hands pulling her to her feet.
She turned to see a younger dark-skinned man. He had short black hair, and his dark eyes quickly scanned the collapsing white-clothed people around him. His nose was short and wide, and his straight mouth was framed by a clean-shaven face. He wore a long-sleeved green shirt, green pants, and black boots. Satisfied that the danger had passed, he spoke.
"Are you ok?" he asked. She shook her head. "I... don't know what's going on here," she admitted. "We..."
Stopping suddenly, she turned to Mallory, bending over to help him up. The man, however, grabbed her arm and pulled her back. "They'll only be down for a few minutes," he said, drawing her away and down the street. Diana struggled and tried to get away. "He's my friend!" she protested, trying to get out of his grip. "I have to..."
"There's no time!" he exclaimed, putting his hands on her biceps and squeezing, looking into her eyes. She stopped fighting. "They won't exchange him until they've learned all they can, so we have a day or two," he stated in deadly seriousness. "But if you try to drag him with us, neither of you will make it."
She looked back at Mallory helplessly, then back to the man. He released her arms, then held out a hand. "Trust me," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. Diana, mouth slightly open, looked between his eyes, then to Mallory once more, then back to the man. Closing her mouth, she finally nodded, he did likewise, then he pointed down the street. "This way," he ordered, and the two began to run.
They bolted down the abandoned streets, passing more old businesses with empty displays and abandoned cars, until they reached a particular alleyway standing between an old pet shop and a mini bowling alley. The man pointed Diana towards it, and together, they ran through. Her heart leaped and she suddenly froze, seeing one of the people in white there. He was lying facedown with a single arm stretched towards the main road, but he didn't seem to be moving.
Without delay, the man ran down to the end of the small path, jumped up high enough to grab onto the top of a chain link fence, then pulled himself over. Diana carefully walked around the figure on the ground, looking towards her rescuer on the other side of the fence.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed her ankle, tugging on her black slacks. She cried out, looking down to see the wide-eyed and smiling man in white holding onto her. He was shifting his weight to free his other hand. She slapped him as hard as she could across the cheek, and with a slight bit of resistance gone from his grip, she pulled her leg towards and through the thumb side of his hold, rolled over, then stumbled to her feet and dashed towards the fence.
The man was waiting on the other side with beckoning hands, relieved to see she was free. After a few seconds of climbing, and a frightened look back at the white-garbed man who was now sitting up and looking at her, she was over the fence, and the two were off.
"What's going on here?" Diana asked in confusion as they made for a treeline. "Who were those people? What are they going to do to Mallory?" The man threw her an odd look of confusion, perhaps even pity, then turned to push some bushes aside. "Are you... ok?" he asked tactfully. "Did you just drop out of the sky?" The two jumped over a stone next to a great oak tree. "How do you not know about Root?"
Diana sucked in her bottom lip and looked to the side. "I'm from far out of town," she started. "Canada. I just got here with Mallory, and..."
The man suddenly pushed her down, stopped, then took out a small, silver metal orb from his pocket about the size of a tangerine. He turned the top, and a beeping began playing out at a higher and higher speed. Flashing red lights atop it whirled in a circle of deadly warning.
"You know what this is," the man said in cold seriousness. Diana shook her head. "I really don't," she answered, but the man raised his head in anger. "You aren't fooling me," he continued. "Are you a new generation? Is Root finally coming for us?" The beeping intensified, and when Diana said nothing, the man smiled. "You're the only one who's going to die here."
Diana shook her head. "If it won't affect you, it won't affect me either," she promised.
The man kept his smile. Diana looked back, fearless. The beeping intensified. Suddenly, the man closed his eyes, and in a blink, she did the same. A bright light exploded out through the forest, bright enough to turn dusk into high noon. In seconds, the light dimmed, and Diana opened her eyes.
He was looking down at her in shock. After a moment, he knelt down, confusion on his face. He poked a single finger into her cheek, and when he pulled back, her skin had formed a small divot, but quickly sprang back. He reached out again to poke her in the nose, but she gently pushed his hand to the side. She pulled her bottom eyelid down. "Blood," she said simply, then turned to spit down and to her left. "Saliva," she finished. "Satisfied?"
Lowering his head slightly in apology, the man reached a hand down to pull her up. "I'm sorry," he said. "There is no way Root has advanced far enough to make an Aspect this complicated... not yet, anyway. But you've seen yourself that they look just like us." When she was on her feet, he beckoned her forward through the brush. "But no more games, please," he said, hopping over a small stream. "Who are you, and where do you come from?"
Diana took a deep breath and exhaled. This was going to take some time.
A shadowed figure of a man stood in a searing, all-encompassing white light. The figure turned its head side to side. Everything was white. The barest of seconds passed before a small dark dot appeared in the far distance above. It grew to the size of a coin, then a small fruit, and then, without warning, rapidly expanded to encompass everything around the figure.
This time, other shapes began to slowly focus into view. It was night, with a few light clouds hanging above. A city street ran two ways, lined on either side with comfortable suburban houses and rows of trees next to the sidewalks. Cars were parked outside, including a red sedan that sat silently ahead.
A man in a black jacket, black pants, and black boots suddenly walked through the figure as if the figure wasn't there. The man turned around, looking suspiciously about. It was Mallory, his face a bit younger, rounder, and softer, but his gelled hair was still standing partially up. Turning back to the car, he removed a coat hangar from his jacket, then worked it into the car door. After a few seconds of fidgeting, the car door clicked open, and with a smile, he pocketed the makeshift tool and entered, closing the door behind him. The figure approached, walking through the driver's side passenger door, to sit behind him.
Mallory adjusted the rear view mirror slightly, then pulled out a screwdriver and flashlight. Putting the flashlight in his mouth, he reached down to twist open the screws of a plastic slot under the steering wheel, then pulled out a handful of wires. Finding the familiar ones, he took out a knife, cut them open, then touched them together, and the car roared to life. He smiled, considerately taped up the exposed wires with a roll from his jacket, then screwed the entire mess closed again. Flicking on the headlights, he was off in a flash.
He turned on the radio to the local rock station, bobbing his head slightly in tune with the hair metal song. Taking it easy at first, the trees went by at a slow clip, giving him enough time to look at individual houses as he passed by. But once he reached Main Street, he engaged the handbrake, fishtailed onto the large four lane street, then gunned the motor.
The figure behind him reached through the driver's seat, its hand going through both it and Mallory's head. Its head turned to the seat behind, then pushed the same hand through the back seat, then even downwards to the bottom of the rushing car, with some difficulty.
Mallory smiled as the trees of the center traffic island, as well as the trees and closed businesses on his right, whizzed by in a blur. His heart pounded, and adrenaline rushed through his body. This was it.
Slowly, his smile faded, leaving only a neutral expression. His eyebrows knit together. His expression became confused, then scared, and then suddenly terrified. The speeding car slowly began to melt away into what seemed like multicolored bubbles, and then there was an impossibly bright flash of white light.
The dark figure stood at the dizzying height of an impossibly tall cliff, looking down on jagged rocks below. Waves from the ocean ahead slowly flowed over, then receded from, the rocks, revealing the sands of a long beach running off in both directions. Mallory was leaned over the cliff, hand reaching down, his face flushed red with strain. Behind him knelt a man and a woman: it was Remmy and Maggie, who wore a tan jacket, blue t-shirt, tan pants, and black shoes, and a tight green shirt, middle length black skirt that just barely covered her knees, black stockings, and black slippers. They were gripping Mallory's legs with all of their might, gritting their teeth with the effort.
To his left side, gently holding his neck and whispering something inaudible in Mallory's ear, was Diana, still wearing the black slacks, white t-shirt, grey cardigan, and white sneakers from before. Her head was pointed down and away from the figure, obscuring her face. Nearing the edge of the cliff, the shadowy figure's head tilted down. There was another shadow below, its arm gripped by Mallory's hands so tightly that they looked like claws, and its fingers were wrapped around Mallory's wrist.
"Don't let go!" he shouted to the figure hanging below. "We've gotten this far! Don't let go!"
Despite Mallory's protests, the figure's grip was weakening. The smallest and barest of movement was there: the slightest slip of a finger, the almost unnoticeable movement ever downwards towards the rocks. The figure behind Mallory knelt down, looking closer. The other figure below continued its slow slip down, swinging ever so slightly. Sensing something, the shadowed figure next to Mallory turned to its left. Diana was staring at it, expressionless. A few seconds passed.
Then, her pupils began to dilate, swallowing the brown of her irises, then the whites. Her mouth twisted into a wide and unsettling smile. There was an explosion of white light.
Mallory was standing on a street corner, wearing his black army garb and black boots. It was day, but the sky was heavily overcast. There was a large line of trees to his left, and small footpaths led between and through them, cutting through a grassy field. To his right was a house, its walls painted a light pink color, and a gentle set of grey steps led up to the white front door. It was surrounded by a short, white picket fence, with a small tree and some bushes decorating the small front lawn before it.
He walked forward towards the white picket fence and opened it, causing it to squeak in protest. Stepping onto the narrow grey walkway leading up to the house, he closed it behind him. After climbing the steps and opening the door, he was inside.
Rugs lay atop the wooden floor, and the walls were lined with pictures. There was an older woman with dark blonde hair and an older man with brown hair, slightly greying at the sides, featured prominently in many of them, as well as a third figure in the shape of a man that was in shadow and hard to make out. A flight of stairs led up to his right to the second floor, while a large pair of brown and windowed double doors were open to his left and led to a living room, and a hallway went straight forward towards a kitchen.
A dark figure descended the stairs, checking its shadowed left wrist. "Morning, ma," it said, entering the kitchen, then leaned down to open a refrigerator door. "Morning," the older woman from the pictures responded, smiling, then turned to remove some toast from a toaster on a counter in front of her.
"I gotta fly," the figure said, pulling out a can of cat food and grabbing a spoon from a basket next to the sink. "I got a million things I..."
"Eat," the woman ordered sternly, but with a tone of joking kindness. She placed a now filled plate of toast on the table, then looked to the figure. "You're too much like your father," she followed up while looking at it intently. "Up all night, working crazy hours," she added, turning to the stove while the figure fed the cat, "and look what happened to him. He worked himself to death."
Mallory walked in, standing by the table, looking between the two. They didn't seem to notice him. "Mom," the figure said, turning around to look at her, "Dad was hit by a car." The woman looked to him with eyes wider. "But he was on his way to work!" she insisted, bringing some fried eggs from a frying pan to a plate with a spatula. "That's my point. He had too much on his mind."
The shadowed figure, at the other side of the kitchen, dropped the cat food can into the recycling can. "Better than too little," it answered. Mallory stood between the two, looking between them. The woman slowly turned to the figure, a look of surprise mixed with light disgust coming across her face. "Is that the same shirt you had on yesterday?" she asked incredulously. The figure reached its head down to its shoulder, then up again. "What?" it answered. "I took a shower."
"Young man," the woman mock threatened, rolling up a towel that was ready to snap at the figure in an instant, "there's a clean pile of laundry on the dryer. Run downstairs and pick something!" The figure backed up. "Well, it's about time you got to those," it responded. "That pile's been on my floor for a week. And when are you gonna make up my room?"
She snapped the towel at the figure in response. "You just watch it, buster!" she said animatedly. "Two more semesters and I'm turning this place into a bed and breakfast." The figure, which had just opened a side door in the hallway leading to the basement, immediately came back out. "Ah," it warned, "I got dibs on the basement." After it began descending the stairs, she turned back to the kitchen with a scoff. "That's the only reason you're not on the streets already," she said in exasperation. "It'd take years to get rid of all that junk!"
Mallory followed her to the kitchen, where she smiled despite herself, shaking her head. After bringing a few dirty dishes and pans to the sink and quickly washing them, she turned towards the basement. "..., don't you have class today?" she called downstairs. The first word sounded like a mixture of static and a metallic whine.
She slowly walked over to a familiar picture on the wall, and gently hovered her fingers over the figures depicted: herself, the brown-haired man, and the shadowed figure, all standing on a pier before a boat and several bright and tall buildings covered in windows.
"You know Michael," she said, "I worry about that kid sometimes. He's too smart for his own good."
The dark figure appeared behind her. "Who are you talking to?" it asked. She smiled back. "Your father and I were having a private conversation," she answered, then turned back to the kitchen table.
"Well, tell him I said 'Hi,'" the figure said. "Yes..." it continued, gathering up a few pieces of toast and bacon along with a fried egg to make up a serviceable sandwich. She made an amused sound at the sight. "Bye ma," it said to her, then after lowering its head to her forehead, grabbed a black backpack, then started for the front door. "Bye," she answered from the table with a smile, then shook her head in amusement. The door closed behind her, and she was alone.
The scene froze. Mallory looked around in confusion, eyebrows knit, as the woman sat still. "...?" a voice called from downstairs, the word replaced by the static whine. "..., where are you?" it called again. Mallory went down the hall, opened the door to the basement, and descended the stairs.
The walls were lined with equipment: computer towers with numerous buttons on the front, a central table lit by a standing lamp covered with books and notes as well as a monitor with sticky notes all over it, bookshelves lined with rows of VHS tapes and science books, a generator in the far corner... and a blackboard, filled almost completely with an equation that Mallory couldn't begin to make heads or tails of.
"..., answer me!" the voice cried out once more in fear. Mallory turned to see the woman frantically looking about the basement, checking the notes on the desk, calling the same strange sound again. Slowly, he began to notice the dark figure shadowing her, waving its arms, passing hands through her body like either she or it wasn't truly there. Soon, the woman ran up the stairs, the figure followed her, and the entire world began to melt into colored bubbles once more.
The waves of a dark sea rocked a small wooden boat. Mallory sat in its center, holding a small oil lantern, the only source of light in the deep dark, and his hand was hooked through the left arm of a dark figure, which was reaching down into the water. "I... couldn't..." the figure struggled out. It looked like it was being pulled into the dark sea, bit by bit. "So heavy... I'm... sorry..."
The boat tilted to the side, suddenly throwing the dark figure into the water. Mallory's arm slid up the figure's arm, but he only barely managed to clasp the figure's hand before it was lost forever. He dropped the lantern to his right, then reached his other hand out to hold the shadow's wrist. It was getting heavier by the second.
Looking down, Mallory could make out three shapes in the water: the first, a fair-skinned and brown-haired man with a strong jaw and a strangely familiar face, the second, a fair-skinned woman with a gently curved chin, tall nose, and brownish-red hair, and the third, deeper down, larger but completely in shadow. The shadow and familiar man were clinging to the left arm of the figure, pulling it deeper, but nonetheless, the figure's grip was wrapped tightly around the woman's wrist, and made no move to shake off or remove her or the others.
Voices called out around Mallory. "Mi... ...y!" "...n!" "Br...r!"
"I tried... everything..." the figure croaked out in a hoarse whisper, slipping slightly more.
The shadowy figure clung to Mallory tightly, but its head was sinking more and more slowly towards the abyss. The water came up to its jaw, ears... It tilted its head back in final defiance. "I'm... so..." it started, as water began to fill its mouth, "sorry..." it bubbled out at last.
Mallory squeezed his grip harder, and yelled into the dark in defiant strength. The boat began to tip forwards. The figure dipped beneath the waters. Mallory summoned every reserve of energy he had, and screaming into the night, pulled with everything he had.
"QUINN!"
After a lot of travel, several detours, a lot of questions, two brief rests, and finally arriving at their destination, the man seemed satisfied, if a little surprised. His name was Dr. Jason Walsky, a former electrical engineer. "You can call me Jason," he said with a wink and a smile.
They arrived at what seemed to be a partially underground sod house, which was so overgrown with grass, branches, and fallen leaves that if it wasn't for Jason carefully pulling open a small hatch on the roof, would have seemed like any other part of the scenery. Holding the hatch open for her, he gestured for Diana to go first, so she began her climb down a short ladder built into the inner brick wall.
The inside was musty and thick with the smells of nature and dust. Featureless brick walls ran the small length of the interior, and the only light was what spilled in from the hatch above. Diana held her hand over her mouth and nose, trying to get a decent amount of air from the small space. A familiar sense of fear started to grip her, and her body began to shake.
"Are you cold?" Jason asked from the ladder. Closing the hatch, the entire room was swallowed by darkness. Diana reached in a panic for her PDL to provide a comforting light, but Jason flicked on a flashlight before she could do so. Seeing her lip quivering, he offered the light to her, and she gladly took it. "Thanks," she answered. "I'm not too good with tight spaces."
He nodded in understanding. "Not big on snakes and spiders myself," he admitted, then gestured around him. "Fine place for a secret base then, huh?" They exchanged nervous smiles, then he walked to the wall on the right, pulling out a single loose brick to reveal a keypad. While he covered it with his body, Diana heard six distinct beeps, then the brick wall in front of them swung open. She saw that the other side of the door was solid steel. Beyond it, a hallway stained red with emergency lights led to another steel door at the end.
Jason pointed ahead. "There's one more here," he explained. "Anna Sanders. We've been working together for a few years now, trying to find a way to end Root's terror." Diana took a breath. "Ok, so you believe me when I tell you I'm not from here," she said as they approached the far door. "Can you fill me in on what's going on? You said Mallory would be safe for a while, but where is he? What are they going to do to him?"
Keying in another hidden six digit code, Jason opened the door before them. A woman stood inside, a handgun pointed at Diana. Her blonde hair was straight, but curled slightly up on her shoulders. Her eyebrows were knit in suspicion above green eyes, and her tall, more triangular nose sat atop a full mouth, now tight in barely contained anger. Her face was somewhat lined, but it wasn't from her age. She wore the same green top and bottom and black boots as Jason.
Jason stepped between them. "A survivor," he half-explained, his hands up. When she looked at him suspiciously, he made a soft, palms forward, calming gesture, indicating she should lower the gun. "I already flashed the both of us," he explained. "She was barely a few feet away."
The woman still looked unconvinced. Jason turned back to Diana, not taking his eyes off Anna. "Could you... do the thing?" he asked her. Diana nodded, then slowly reached up her left index finger to her left eye to pull the skin down, then spit on the floor. With a look of surprise, the woman lowered the gun. "No way they could do that," she said, then gestured for Diana to come with her. "Really sorry about that," she said, extending her hand as they walked together. Diana took it and shook. "I'm Anna Sanders," she introduced herself. "Let me get you something."
The danger passed, Diana was able to take a look around: there was a large table in the center of the decently-sized room, with a particularly massive looking laptop at the center. The black keyboard looked like it worked properly, but it was missing the function keys, and the screen was tiny and a monochrome yellow, displaying a few lines of numbers that were slowly increasing. A large monitor sat next to it, completely black, with a few spools of tape strewn about it. On a bench on the far wall, there were two big black boxes: one was open to reveal various tools. Finally, there were two massive roller luggage containers in the far right corner, though their contents were a mystery. Anna took Diana through a door on the far wall.
The back room was little more than a combination kitchen/sleeping area. There were two green sleeping bags on the ground, both lying beside a small central table with a few plates and forks, two chairs for meals, and a small counter to the left which held a large plastic barrel with a spigot attached. Next to it was a light blue box with an oval window allowing a look into its contents, probably a microwave, and a similarly colored electric stove next to it. A pair of silver bicycles rested against the wall on the other side, and there was a sealed door between them.
Anna opened the stove and pulled out a piece of meat. "Venison," she said with a smile. Diana smiled politely, but Anna seemed to catch her hesitation. "It's been cooked," she said reassuringly, patting the oven lightly.
"Anna and I were just holding it in here for later," Jason said from behind her, entering the small room. He motioned for the two girls to sit, then took a spot on the counter for himself, pouring water from the barrel into three cups. (Beggars can't be choosers), Diana thought, then sat. When the meals were portioned out, and Anna and Jason took her first bites, Diana followed. It wasn't bad, just kind of plain... but nicely chewy.
After her first bite, she spoke. "So can you guys fill me in on what's going on?" she asked. Jason and Anna nodded, then began to explain.
There were birds chirping, and the sound of a gentle wind around. Distant voices could be heard laughing. Mallory leaned up against a gentle tree, feeling like he had just awakened from a long and comfortable sleep.
"You're up, bro," a voice said from his right.
Mallory slowly opened his eyes. He looked down to see that he was wearing all white: a mid-sleeved white shirt, long white pants, and white flip-flops. He was sitting and leaning against a huge oak tree in its great shade, and the green grass of a great field spread out in every direction. In front and all around him, there were people sitting upon large cloths and eating from picnic baskets, flying kites, and there were even some kids playing hide and seek and climbing trees. They were all wearing white.
He looked to his right to see another man dressed in white there: brown hair, blue eyes, with a longer face, strong chin, and a tall nose, he was staring at the scene before them with a smile. It was a face that seemed familiar, but distant at the same time.
Mallory sat up, taking a deep and satisfied breath in the pleasant field. "Are we dead?" he asked. The other man shook his head. "I don't think so," he answered. "Maybe."
He turned his head to see Mallory. "But that was you, right?" the man continued. "In the basement, on the boat. You were there, trying to help me." Mallory thought back, slight confusion coming across his face. Flashes of memory returned, of a frantic woman, a dark sea...
"I... think so," he answered, leaning back up against the tree, looking forward for a short time. He turned back to the man. "Which one were you? I can't really remember." The other man shrugged. "It's been like that for me, too," he admitted. "I've just been sitting here, watching the others run around."
The two looked out to see a group of kids playing tag. One of them got tagged on the shoulder, then immediately began chasing the others around. As he drew near them, one by one, the children squatted down with their arms across their chests, holding their shoulders. He almost chased down the last kid when there was a gentle call, and all the kids stood up to run towards a man and woman on a white blanket with a massive basket between them. They all sat in squirming anticipation before their sandwiches and juice boxes were in hand.
"It's weird," the man spoke up, still watching the picnic. "It feels like I know you, but I don't think I know you."
Mallory nodded. "Same, man," he answered. The man reached out a hand to introduce himself. "I'm Quinn," he said with a smile. "Mallory," Mallory answered, reaching his out as well.
The two faltered, pulling their hands back. "Are you thinking the same..." they both said in unison, then smiled. "If we touch hands together..." Mallory started, "the universe will blow up," Quinn added through a laugh. Extending his index finger, Mallory looked into Quinn's eyes with a daring sense of challenge. Not to be beaten, Quinn pointed his out, then slowly, they touched the two together.
They looked around, noticing no rocks falling from the sky or rips in space-time. "Seems ok," Quinn said, then opened his hand to take Mallory's in an arm wrestling clasp, squeezing hard. Mallory smiled, and after they released, they returned to watching the people on the field for a while.
A minute of peace passed before Mallory spoke. "Where are we?" he asked, but Quinn just shook his head. "I dunno," he admitted. "I was just sitting here watching everyone, and a bit later, you woke up, and here we were."
A few seconds of silence passed by, and as if in response, a gentle breeze blew past the both of them. The sun continued to warm them through the shade nicely.
"I just..." Quinn said, arms behind his head, but with eyebrows slightly knit, "I feel like there's something I was supposed to be doing," he said softly, thinking. Mallory mimicked his relaxed posture. "Same here," he added, turning to Quinn. "What're the chances we both left stoves on?" he wondered, turning back to the sky.
Quinn smiled and exhaled sharply in amusement. He looked up towards the blue sky too, thinking. Eventually he turned to Mallory. "Thank you," he said. Mallory looked back at him, confused. "It's more than the boat," Quinn continued. "I can't put my finger on it, but there's just something else there." He paused with his mouth open for a few seconds, then closed it and nodded. "I just wanted to say... thank you," he finished.
He held his smile, leaning against the tree. The sun's rays seemed to grow brighter, and his face and body almost shined with the luminescence.
No, this was different. Quinn's body shined even more brightly, until he seemed to be nothing but a glowing white figure against the tree. The light from his body shined so brightly that Mallory had to cover his eyes, and soon, it overtook everything. There was a shifting, a sense of movement, and the sounds of the pleasant field faded away. There was silence, then an inky blackness that swallowed the light. Mallory soon felt nothing more than his own hands upon his face and chest.
Eventually, the darkness gave way to gloom. The smell of stale urine and feces assaulted Mallory's nose, and his face screwed up in disgust. He uncovered his eyes, and the world was sideways. No... he was on his side, lying on a filthy bed. There was an open doorway in front of him, looking into another drab and filthy room across the way. The room seemed to be empty, aside from another disgusting bed.
Mallory sat up, and felt the grime and filth of the bed still sticking to his right side and face. He reached up to wipe off the muck from his cheek, but only succeeded in spreading it between his face and hand. He wiped the mess on his right thigh, leaving a brownish stain on them.
It seemed like a hotel room, with a dusty and forgotten TV on a chest of drawers to his left, and there was a window behind him with the blinds shut. Getting his bearings, a series of sounds finally reached his ears: the distant, pained screams, cries, and sobs of people in the far distance.
Footsteps sounded from the hall outside, from the left. They grew louder in approach, but Mallory was still too disoriented to consider what to do. Eventually, the footsteps revealed themselves in the figure now standing at the door: he was wearing a white shirt with sleeves to his elbows, white dress pants, and white shoes, and a beautiful silver chain hung from his wide neck. Long blonde hair flowed down from his head to frame an impossibly handsome, chiseled, and fair-skinned face, and his large, dark eyes looked at Mallory on the bed from atop a perfectly tall nose, triangular in its shape.
He slowly offered a welcoming smile. "You don't need to be here now," he said in a voice deep and soothing. He slowly walked forward, put his right hand under Mallory's left shoulder, then pulled him to his feet. Turning towards the doorway, he laid his hand across Mallory's back, and gently guided him into the hallway, then to the left.
As they drew closer to a new pair of doorways on their left and right, Mallory heard the sounds of sobbing increasing in volume. When they passed between the two doors, he glanced left and right to see what was going on: in the right room, there was a man in white on a bed, lying on his side and facing the doorway, fingers gripping the skin on his cheeks under his eyes, which were stained red from tears. On the left, a woman, also in white, leaned up against the foot of her bed. She was holding an old and frazzled teddy bear to her chest with both arms, and her knees squeezed into her arms. Her eyes betrayed no emotion as she slowly rocked back and forth. The hallway led left towards stairs heading down, and a final room to the right, where a figure in white was lying on their side in the fetal position, facing the corner. The person wasn't moving.
"What's wrong with these people?" Mallory asked. He faltered somewhat, feeling a desire to go back, to do something. The man in white gently increased the pressure on his back, bringing him to the stairs. "They're learning," he said simply, and the two went down the stairs.
Reaching the grand lobby of the decrepit hotel, Mallory looked around to see little more than torn carpets, ripped wallpaper, and patches of black and brown stains on both the walls and exposed floorboards. The two then exited an open pair of double doors. Outside, he saw the overgrowth of the grass before the hotel, dead and leafless trees rotted black, and piles of discarded trash on the ground. Turning a look back to the hotel, it seemed a lot smaller from the outside. The broken shutters of open windows struck against the old and filthy house. Soon, everything started to devolve into multicolored bubbles, and they were elsewhere.
Both of them stood waist deep in a pond, surrounded by land gently rising out and away from it, and which was covered with grasses and small trees. The sky was a gentle blue. "Does this look familiar?" the man asked, gesturing around him. Mallory looked about, and though he thought it did, he couldn't quite place his finger on why. The man smiled. "It should be," he said. "This was where you were made."
Mallory looked to him, seeing his hand coming closer to touch his forehead. He backed up slightly. "What do you mean?" he asked. The man held his hand still, then smiled wider. "Two souls in one body," he answered. He paused slightly. "This is how you came to be." Too quick to stop, the man placed his palm across Mallory's forehead, thumb and fingers gripping his right cheek and hairline.
A torrent of images flew by Mallory's mind's eye. A blue-green tunnel. An explosion of blue-white light. An older man with curly grey hair, a triangular nose, and small glasses, giving orders in a gravely voice from a small room made up of translucent windows. A large silver machine that resembled a turret gun, firing into him.
"Ah, an experiment," the man said. He squeezed Mallory's skull more tightly. "And the other?"
Mallory lifted his hands in protest, but shock and confusion swept across his face as he looked through the man's fingers to see more clearly: there was a shadow that overlaid his own body's movements, just delayed by half a second. Darkness suddenly enveloped him, then there was a flash of images: the woman from the house and basement, a larger man with a beard, the woman with the reddish-brown hair, the man with the familiar face...
"Visitors here," the man said, caught himself, then spoke again. "Or should I say, visitor. Two... then one." He took his hand away to reveal Mallory's face, which was now completely black; his entire body was covered in shadows, and they were moving. In seconds, the shadows slowly began to recede from his face and body and moved behind his back, then the darkness eventually faded. Quinn suddenly stood before the man in white.
The shadows were soon completely gone, leaving only the two standing in the pond. The man in white slowly nodded his head. "Tell me more of your adventures," he said simply.
Quinn turned his head slightly to the side and narrowed his eyes. "Why?" he demanded. "Who are you?"
The man in white smiled again, his dark eyes piercing. "Root," he answered simply. Quinn shook his head slightly, not understanding. "All I wish to do, is learn," the man finished, slowly reaching his hand out to Quinn's left cheek. Quinn backed up a step and pulled his face away.
Root's face became stony, deadly serious. "Will you resist me?" he asked, his voice growing in strength. "This is my world. I alone decide how, and what, we learn." Unfamiliar images flashed in Quinn's mind of the red-eyed man, the woman with the teddy bear, the figure in the corner. His body shook slightly in fear, despite himself.
Slowly, Root's face returned to its original smile, his face pale and handsome. "You are very special to me," he said gently, taking a step forward. "I've never had one like you before. You have much to teach me. We can be close. Will you cooperate? Will you open yourself to me?" He reached out his hand to Quinn's cheek once more. Quinn slapped his hand away, a look of defiance in his eyes.
"No," he said strongly, not taking his unblinking eyes away.
The pond water seemed to churn. The blue sky darkened. A strong gust blew through the plants and trees, sending a loud rustling sound through the area. A light rain started, soon becoming a massive storm. Root's face darkened, his pupils extending across the entirety of his eyes to leave nothing more than black pits, and his gentle grin became an impossibly psychotic smile.
"I will have your secrets," he said in a voice deep and menacing. "And I will learn."
Everything went dark.
(To be continued...)