Modern Rituals (5 page)

The man—a young man—coughed and sputtered, then said, “Damn… Dammit! I…was trying to see if you were okay!”

He answered honestly, she could tell. Something about his large, brown eyes, as well as a weakness in his voice, told her so—this young man hadn’t yet accepted the responsibilities of life. He was but a boy inhabiting a man’s body—a cute boy, but a boy nonetheless.
Nevermind that.

The woman exploded into the gymnasium, stumbling on shaky legs. She pulled her head back and let loose a guttural roar that melted into a shrill, teeth-clenched howl and turned into a fit of sobbing. Her shoulders stooped as if an invisible lead coat hung upon them. She sank to the floor and curled into a ball.
 

James watched her.

She jumped, frantically looking about the room like a parent searching madly for her lost child.
 

Her eyes met James’. He feared their savageness.

The air between them brimmed with electricity. She looked like she might attack, but then her disposition softened. Her presence overwhelmed him, though she stood twenty feet away.

“Are… Are you all right?” James said.

The woman stared. Her expression blank. Then she passed out, crumpling to the floor like a rag doll. Her head made a sickening thump as it struck the ground.

Oh, shit!

James rushed toward her, took a knee and slid to within a few inches from her, which he’d later reflect would have looked downright cool if anyone had been watching.
 

She lay face up, pupils visible through slivered eyelids. He cupped the nape of her neck between his hands and laid her head on his knees. Her chest rose and fell in a steady, predictable pattern. He tried not to notice the rest of her shapely figure as he placed his fingertips to her neck and detected a rhythm similar to his own.
 

James did not know why he played doctor or what it might accomplish, though the idea—the necessity—of protecting this woman was inescapable. From where this compulsion originated eluded him. Perhaps his subconscious had reacted to the word “Protect.” Or, more likely, a beautiful, young woman lay vulnerable and alone on the floor and he was the only one who
could
protect her.

She stirred, then whimpered.
 

“Hey, there… You took quite a fall. How are you feeling now?”

She reached her hand to the back of her head and rubbed the area that had contacted the floor, wincing. Her eyes flittered open, stealing a quick glance at James, and her lips curled into a groggy smile. She snuggled her head into his legs, getting comfortable.
 

James dared not move. Then he was on the floor struggling to breathe. The woman had managed to spin around, catapult upwards, and mid-swing, had kicked James square in the chest, propelling him a few feet backwards. She loomed over him.

“And just what do you think you were doing?” the woman said. His diaphragm scuffled with his lungs.

“Damn. Dammit! I…” James said, coughing. “…was trying to see if you were okay!”

“Okay? I wouldn’t say I’m okay. But do that again, and a kick to the chest will be the last of your worries.”

James made a deeply etched mental note to remain on this woman’s good side. He cautiously rose to his feet as the woman stared.

“Listen—my name is James. I’m as confused as you are. Do you have any idea where we are?”

“No clue. I was just running from someone and suddenly found myself getting a little too close to you.”

Ugh—lousy first impression.
His gut told him he needed to befriend this woman—that she was important.
There’s something about this girl…I can’t put my finger on it.

“I just found myself here as well, no more than a few minutes ago. It was like someone changed the channel on the television. My clothes were different, and there was a note in my pocket,” he said.

The woman looked down at her outfit: she wore a pleated, blue-plaid skirt, with black, high-heeled loafers, high white stockings and a tucked-in, starchy, long-sleeve, white blouse—unbuttoned at the top. Given the right angle, someone would have a nice show of her breasts. She buttoned the blouse as high as it would allow.
 

“Oh, my—I look like a school girl!” she said to herself. James didn’t mind it.
 

The skirt contained two side pockets, into which she placed her hands and from one, retrieved her own note, keeping an eye on him all the while.

“That can’t be a coincidence.” James said.

“For all I know, you put this in my pocket,” she said, still staring at him.

“I can’t prove that I didn’t. For all I know, you could have faked your crazy little entrance there after having just planted mine on me a few minutes before. I think we’re just going to have to try and trust each other for the time being.”
 

The woman didn’t respond, though her shoulders appeared to relax as she studied him.
 

“Let’s see what this says.” She unfolded the paper and peered down at the slip. It was no larger than a business card.

“Well, are you going to tell me?” James said.

“Oh, yes, sorry. It says ‘Restraint,’” she said. “What does yours say?”

“Mine? It says ‘Protect,’ which has me clueless. None of this is adding up.”
 

“Well, that doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

James tried to form a sentence—a mental blankness disrupted his attempt and melded into an awkward silence between them. He sought a place to look away from her until he could collect himself.

“My name is James,” he tried again, looking back at the woman. “James Bixby.”

She scrunched her lips, leaving James’ words in the air.

“Oh—right. I’m Olivia,” she said as if her name was new to her. “Listen, pleasantries aside, we need to figure out where we are and find help.”

“No arguments here. Where do you suggest—” he said, but Olivia ignored him, walking away toward the stage on the opposite side of the gymnasium. She’d entered a pair of doors to the right of the stage by the time James caught up.
 

They opened into a narrow, unlit hallway with two more doors on the left and one at the end. They continued, and James noted Japanese characters on the doors to their left, as well as the universal male and female symbols for “Restroom.”
 

“Are we in Japan?” James said.

They hurried, reaching the end of the hallway as the last of the light escaped from the gym doors. They pushed through an exit and met a cool, calming breeze.
 

Before them sprawled a well-tended soccer field. Another field wrapped around the building behind them—a green pasture enclosed all of this, bordered by a thick forest.

The sunset dripped blood-orange. James looked to his right—a concrete walkway extended around the building, away from the fields. He motioned to Olivia to follow him, but she was already on her way. Around the corner a large, empty parking lot fronted a series of buildings, including the gym. An archway provided a covered entrance between the gym and another large building. Beside it towered a sign printed with writing James couldn’t read. Olivia didn’t seem to have a clue, either.
 

A gated driveway allowed entry into the parking lot, lined by a black, wrought-iron fence that extended into the forest, circling the property and continuing well into the distance.

“It’s so quiet. This place feels abandoned. I mean, I don’t even hear any birds,” James said.

“Yeah…” Olivia said, lingering on the last part of the word. The drawl of her English accent melted James. He loved English accents.

Olivia headed toward the gate.
 

“Whoa, wait—don’t you want to see if anyone is here? We should check this place out, right?” James said.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” she said. “Well, I mean, all of this doesn’t feel right. I think we need to get out of here.”
 

“Yeah, I suppose,” James agreed. “We’ve been abducted, but who abducts someone and just leaves them alone? Could it be something went wrong? Maybe this is our only chance to escape.”

“Exactly. Come on.”

They dashed to the closed driveway gate. James pulled on one side, hoping. It was unlocked.
 

“Whew.”

The gate squealed, settling long after James’ initial tug. They pushed through and met a road lined with pine trees. It shot far into the distance, undulating with dips and crests until the horizon swallowed it whole.

“Inviting,” James said.

Olivia nodded, then set off at a brisk jog. They followed the path for twenty minutes before slowing to a walk. The landscape persisted unchanged, the distant curve still distant. An unsettling, odd consistency to the trees troubled James as they journeyed.

After a long silence, James said, “Does this road seem really remote? You would think we would have hit an intersection by now. Or hell, at least turned. We must be really out there.”

“Yes, it does. But, what choice do we have? Let’s keep moving.”
 

Perspiration stung James’ eyes as they approached a distinct change: the road curved into a dead-end—a reflective barrier stood between it and the forest.

“What’s this shit? How do people even get to this place?” James said.

“No idea. Maybe there’s another road around here that connects to this one. I think we should keep going.”

“Into the forest? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“You afraid? Like I said, we don’t have many options right now,” she said.

James hated to admit forests spooked him—he blamed his city-boy upbringing.

“I dunno,” he said. “It’s just that in all the horror movies I’ve watched, the forest generally turns out to be a bad decision.”

“If this is a horror movie, then we’re already screwed, aren’t we?” she said, then hopped the road block.

James kept close to her. The sun filtered through the forest canopy, casting a net of broken shadows on the ground. Shafts of light thrust down, highlighting swirling clouds of dust within tightly packed trees. Dirt layered the ground and no evidence of shrubs, weeds or the like presented themselves.
 

“That’s strange—I thought it would be darker by now. Not that I’m complaining, or anything,” James said.

Olivia looked to the sky, her eyes distracted.

“So, James, tell me about yourself. Where are you from?”

James had been wondering whether he should make small talk. Her question relieved him.
 

“I’m from Chicago—you?”

 
“London. But, I was in Belfast…” she said, then shook her head. “Earlier.”

“Belfast? How’d you find yourself in Northern Ireland?”
 

“Long story. What do you do in Chicago?”

“I’m an artist and I teach part-time at U-of-C. Oh…um…I mean the University of Chicago.”
 

“An artist? What kind of art?”

“Well, now,
that’s
a long story. Let’s just say I focus on transformative interactive media,” he said eagerly watching her reaction. James loved talking about his work—and watching how people reacted to seemingly nonsensical streams of words.

“That sounds…um…interesting,” Olivia said. “Perhaps you could tell me more about it sometime.”

“Gladly. To sum it up, my work explores the intersection between tangible and intangible interfaces our consciousness uses to interpret reality—Ow!”
 

James’ face ran head-first into…nothing. Olivia gasped from behind him as his head snapped back.
 

“Good God! What the hell?”
 

He rubbed his nose and scanned the air, expecting to find a tree branch or steel wall. Olivia slid passed him, extending her arm—it struck an invisible, solid object. She balled her hand into a fist and punched. A rippled impression swirled from the strike point, altering the forest scene into a painting on a wobbling canvas. Thin strands of light traced honeycomb patterns where the canvas bowed—they reminded James of circuitry on a silicon board.
 

The picturesque landscape returned to normal as the ripples subsided.

“Holy motherfucking shit!” James said.

8

Purgatory 8 bustled. Theo contemplated the picture before him. On the wall monitor, Olivia and James stood at the perimeter point. They had discovered it within an hour of launch. Whether this was a red flag, Theo did not know.

“Keep the lights on. We need these two to find their way back,” he said.

Susan nodded curtly, then returned her attention to the screen before her.

“Oh, and up their cortisol and testosterone—lower her estrogen. They need to get a move on.”

9

James pressed against the barrier, following it in each direction until he lost sight of Olivia. It did not end.

Olivia rejoined James.
 

James scratched his head and sighed. “Find anything?”
 

“Shhh! Do you hear that?” Olivia had raised her finger at James.
 

James pricked his ears.
 

“No, I don’t… Oh, wait…”

A low hum whirred beneath the otherwise silent woods. It sounded like the electric rattling of a power main, but no ordinary power main—like an ocean of electrical static.

“Is that…is that from a power station? Damn, I can’t pinpoint where it’s coming from—it must be huge!” James said.
 

The discovery of the invisible barrier had left James bewildered. He stared beyond the barrier. The omnipresent, electrical thrum vibrated his body—it had a pacifying effect. A vacancy overrode James’ thoughts.

“There has got to be a way out of here!” Olivia said, startling James.

He jumped and drew in a deep breath, his once-expressionless face filled with focus.

“You’re right. There’s gotta be a way out of here—we just need to find it.”

James pulled out the slip of paper from his pocket and turned it between his fingers.
 

There must be more to this.

“We need to head back. Look around. See what we’re up against,” Olivia said.