The Variables (33 page)

The first building was a library. Its door was wide open and it drifted back and forth in the wind. They walked inside and froze, each of them noticing in turn that the entire back wall was gone and exposed. In its place were the thick metal doors to an elevator. Dean looked at Darla and Darla couldn’t help but smile as she stalked forward.

“Lucky us,” she said.

“It’s about time,” Ainsley added.

Darla looked at the elevator doors and pondered their next move. She put her ear to the door and listened, puzzled, and then without hesitation she pushed the button to the side. There were no telling clanks and rumblings of a machine coming to life, and Darla pushed the button again. Then she put her ear to the doors again and listened intently.

“I think I hear it coming. But it’s far away...must be a long way down,” she said. She took a step back and motioned for Dean to join her, and assumed a leveled stance, her gun raised.

Ainsley hid out of sight behind a row of non-fiction books, filed with care under a laminated sign boasting their Dewey Decimal System call numbers. Removing some books so she could see, she rested her head against the bookshelf and watched. She held her breath.

After a torturous five minutes, the doors to the elevator opened to an empty box, with metal railings. Not the enclosed walls of a traditional elevator, but more like one about to lead them down to the depths of coal mine. A gray light beamed down into the box from the side railing. It blinked twice, but sustained its glow.

“No way,” Dean said shaking his head. “That thing looks like it’s about to take me into the pit of hell.”

Darla scanned the box and swung her gun from one corner to the other. “Come on,” she nodded toward the elevator. “Let’s see where this takes us.” She looked at the button on the side: there was only one choice. Taking a deep breath, ignoring the pit in her stomach, Darla’s finger was lingering above the round circle. “Come on,” she called back toward her friends, but they were motionless, hesitant. The air around her smelled like dirt and rust.

“You could be walking into an ambush down there,” Dean said. “Darla...don’t...”

Ainsley whimpered. “I don’t know...it’s so dark. I’m done with the dark. No more dark.”

With a deep breath, Darla took the barrel of her gun and pushed it into the button. Dean and Ainsley watched her with their eyes wide, and their mouths formed into circles of worry and fear. The elevator doors began to close, eclipsing the library and the world above, and steeping Darla into darkness.

From outside she heard Dean swear and he pushed the button in a vain attempt to stop her. Then she jumped back as Dean’s outstretched hand pushed its way into the closing elevator doors. He wrestled them open, but the elevator did not stop its slow descent. Darla looked up, through the topless metal box, as she traveled downward, Dean’s face growing smaller. And without warning, he swung his body down into the blackness of the hole and dropped. He crashed into Darla and hit her to the floor; he landed on his ankle and crumpled into a heap. Dean yelped in pain.

“You could’ve killed us both,” Darla said to him, angry. The light in the corner the elevator illuminated Dean’s face, and she saw that he was in pain. He winced as he tried to push himself to the side while cradling his foot in his hands. “Are you okay?” she asked.

He nodded.

From above them they could hear Ainsley’s panicked voice calling to them, but her small shrieks became smaller and traveled further away. The light from above disappeared entirely, and it was getting colder.

“Will she be okay there by herself?” Dean asked.

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you dropped fifteen feet into a moving elevator,” Darla replied. “Can you stand?” she asked him.

“Yup,” he replied and he allowed himself to be helped up. He leaned against Darla’s shoulder.
 

“You didn’t have to come with me,” Darla said, the elevator bounced further down, and made no movement to stop anytime soon.

“I’m a coward,” he replied.

Darla looked at him out of the corner of her eye. “A shocking admission,” she replied with a grin.

“But,” he continued, eyeing her, “I wasn’t going to let you do this by yourself.”

Her smile faded and she turned to face Dean. “Thank you,” she said.

“Thank
you
.”

She was dismissive. “I’m scared,” she added after a beat.

“I’d be worried if you weren’t.”

The lift slowed, the gears screeched, and then the whole thing came to a stop. Nothing happened. They stared forward at a shiny wall. Darla took a step forward and pushed on the wall and it shifted under her touch and slid forward. Light flooded their metal container, and Darla pushed the door open more, and then finally all the way.

Extending beyond them was a long hallway. It was well lit, but empty. They moved out of the elevator with caution and began to traverse the stretch of space before them.

“Where are we?” Dean asked in a whisper.

Darla shook her head and placed a finger to her lips.

They continued to walk, cognizant of their footsteps against the tiled floor, their eyes trained forward on the exit in front of them. This hall was empty, but there was no indication of what they would find behind the next closed door. They turned the knob when they reached the end and to their surprise saw the metal doors of a second elevator. They pushed the button and held their breath.

The doors opened and they stepped inside. Dozens of shiny buttons lined the panel but a hand scanner beeped angrily when they attempted to press one, spitting back an error message:
Unrecognized user
.

They stood there confused and shaken. This was the only way out of their current floor—which contained the elevator to the surface—and without a code, or a registered hand swipe, their journey would be over before it had begun. Before they had time to assess the best way to navigate their roadblock, they heard a small peal, and the doors closed automatically. They started to move down.

Darla swore and pushed her body against the side, obscuring her body from view. Dean followed suit on the other side, tucking himself into the corner.

Down they traveled. And when it stopped, and the doors opened, they held their breath and waited.

A large man in a uniform walked steadily on to the elevator with them. He spotted Darla first and went for his gun, but Dean punched him in the jaw with a well-placed blow and the man reeled backward and stumbled to the floor. Dazed, he took a swipe at Darla, but she held the gun to the center of his forehead and leaned down so he could feel her breath against his face.

The doors closed. Dean reached in and unhooked the gun and the holster, and left the man without a weapon. The man’s hand went to his other pocket, but Darla stepped on his arm. She shoved her foot into the ground and dug her heel into his flesh. He cried out.

“See what he was going for,” Darla ordered and Dean reached down and pulled out a walkie-talkie. She tilted her head, “Oh, I see. Calling for back-up?”

The man scoffed. “You won’t get ten feet off of this elevator,” he spat. Then he scanned the faces of Dean and Darla closely. “Who are you?” he asked, his eyes locking into Darla’s. “You’re not Copia residents. Where the hell did you come from?”

“Copia?” Darla scoffed. “That’s what this place is called?”

The man eyed the gun and tired to jerk his hand upward, but Darla’s foot was firm and she pushed harder, until he fell backward to the ground. “You don’t know what you walked into,” he said weakly. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll let me go, and then you’ll quietly disappear back up toward the surface. That’s my present for you today…and you have no idea what it’s worth.”

“Oh? You’ll just let us walk out of here? Like it’s no big deal?” Darla dropped down over him and pushed her gun harder into his forehead. “A ploy made by a man who has clearly lost the upper hand,” she added. “I’m looking for some people and maybe you can help me find them.”

“You won’t succeed,” the man said again. “It doesn’t matter if I take you where you want to go or not...you have thirty minutes to get out of here or you’re going to die. And you can take me with you. But this won’t end well. I’m more confident in your failure than anything else right now.”

“Why don’t you humor me,” Darla continued. “Maybe we can start with a name you might know. I’m looking for Ethan King.”

The man laughed and shook his head. “If it’s Ethan you’re after then you’re going to have to shoot me.”

“Why?” Darla asked.

“Ethan’s long gone, lady.”

“He’s gone from Copia?” Dean asked this time, leaning forward. He still held the man’s gun in front of him and the walkie-talkie to his side.

The guy smiled. “Yeah. No
Copia
for him.”

“Then what about the boy they brought here? The child? Do you know anything about him?” Darla gave his forehead a small tap with her gun. And the man stared at it like it was a fly buzzing around his head.

“You’re after the boy?” He shook his head. “You’re too late, guys. Their ship has sailed. And you should get out of here while you still can.”

“No,” Dean replied and he stepped over and crouched down. “There’s one more. What about Gr—”

The walkie-talkie crackled in Dean’s hand and he looked down at it. A voice called through the box.

“Attention Guard Command Three. Please finish up your sweep and return to the Center for operation King’s Box. I repeat finish up your sweep and report to the lab to be equipped for operation King’s Box.”

“Guard Command Three,” Darla repeated. “That you?”

The man nodded curtly. “Private Ryley at
your
service, apparently.”

“King’s Box?” Dean held the walkie out. “What’s that?”

Darla interjected before he could answer, “I want to see where Teddy stayed. I want to see...I need to see that he’s not here. Swipe your hand and take me there. Now.”

“Look—”

“Do it,” Darla snapped. She released her foot from his arm and dragged him over to the corner; she placed the gun against the back of his head and then nudged him with her knee. “Do it,” she said again, quieter and more intense.

Without another word, the man swiped his hand and entered a floor number when prompted.

“How do I know you’re not just taking us to a floor to be ambushed?” she asked. “Get in position, Dean. Raise the weapon.” Dean stood front and center, shoving the walkie-talkie into his pants and aiming the guard’s gun out from his body, holding it with both hands.

The guy shook his head. “You don’t,” he answered. “But you’re the one who didn’t walk away when I gave you the chance. So whatever happens now is all on you.”

He took them to a floor that opened up to several hallways. Each hallway was marked as a Pod by labels above the doors. With a gun pushed into his back, Ryley opened up one of the pod doors and led them down to the King apartment. The door was wide open; the remnants of that life remained scattered along the floor: clothes that had been left behind, an abandoned shirt draped over a sofa, scattered pieces of a puzzle. Darla poked at the shirt and noticed it was streaked with dark brown bloodstains. She dropped it back where she found it.

Next, she walked into one of the bedrooms. The beds had been stripped and the room was bare. She stood for several minutes looking around, and then she turned back to the man.

“Where did they go?” she asked, her voice shaking. “Where did all these people go?”

“Away,” he said. The man looked at the guns raised on him. He kept his hands behind his back.

“
Where
?” she asked.

“Bitch, can’t you say please?”

She stormed over and without hesitation hit him across the head with her gun. He flinched and then straightened up. A trickle of blood formed at his brow line and he let it drip without wiping it away.

“Please,” Darla spat.
 

Ryley snorted and rolled his eyes. “To the Islands,” he replied slowly. “I can tell you everything...I can tell you everything I know...but you still won’t find them. Security was relaxed today because we are getting ready to leave this place.” He glanced at the clock still ticking on the small apartment’s microwave oven. “Twenty minutes.”

“What happens in twenty minutes?” Dean asked.

Ryley made a clicking sound. “The end,” he said.

“Where are the Islands?” Darla asked, redirecting the conversation back to Teddy.

“No,” Ryley said simply. She raised her gun again, but he just shook his head. “Kill me. I’m not telling you that.”

“But that’s where my child is? On the Islands?”

“Your child?” Ryley raised his eyebrows and closed his eyes. “Well, doesn’t that just add a new dimension,” he mumbled under his breath.

“What does that mean?” Darla asked. She took a step closer. “What do you know about my boy—”

The walkie-talkie crackled again. A female voice came on this time, “We are missing Private Ryley. Private Ryley, we are ten minutes away from needing you at the starting point for our operation. Please report to the lab.” Then walkie-talkie clicked off. Then it clicked on. “This is Blair,” the voice added.

“Jeez,” the man said, rolling his eyes. He looked up, “You heard her. If I don’t show, they’re going to come looking for me.”

“This place is huge,” Dean said. “Why will they look for you here?”

Private Ryley lunged for Dean’s gun, but Dean stepped back in time and Ryley stumbled forward, landing on the carpet. Darla landed a soft kick to his side; he began to cough. He swore at them and kicked his legs.

“You’ll die here,” he said between gasps. “There’s no way out.”

“Where is everyone else?” Dean asked.

“Up,” was all he replied.

“Is there an elevator override?”

He nodded. “I have keys,” he said. Darla kicked him in the ribs again. She felt inside his jacket pocket and tossed out a key ring with six shiny silver keys.

“Tell me what’s happening. What do you mean we’re going to die here? What’s happening?” Darla yelled and she held the gun to him.

“You’re the type of filth we were sworn to keep out,” Ryley said monotonously. “You don’t
deserve
to live. And if you somehow make it out of here alive, then you won’t make it anywhere near that boy. Or the Kings. Do you hear me?”