Just up ahead of the bend, light flooded the sewer tunnel's exit. Raiden glared at the white blob of light like it was a steaming pile of rat shit. My nose twitched. It definitely smelled like it. The stench down here was revolting. It was so bad, it was distracting. Cindi coughed right next to my ear until her lungs gave out and she retreated into her sleeve to muffle the noise. I was glad to be almost out of here. All we needed was a little push.
"This is it," Divanshu said. His tone was indecisive, however. Like he had to convince himself this was the right place. Not a confident thing to hear your tour guide say.
"You go first," Raiden said. "Come on." He nodded toward the exit.
Divanshu looked back at him and blinked. "Me? No, it's your hide that you're putting on the line. Not mine." He took a step back from the precipice. A light breeze pulled inward toward us. He drew his hand up to plug his nose.
"How can I be sure we're in the right place?" Raiden said. "Make good on your word D."
He considered the thought. While we waited for him to make up his mind, his foot tapped rhythmically against the tunnel floor, like a drummer without his pedal.
"Fine, follow me," he said. His lurking gait quickened as he slipped down the sewer, cutting between us and the exit. Raiden followed closely behind him. He kept up with the sudden burst of speed, like a relay racer keeping up with the competition.
Cindi whispered, "Ready Monty?"
I nodded. I wasn't really ready, but I knew that there wasn't much time for me to acclimate to the smell--or was it my nerves? "Ready as I'll ever be," I whispered, half to myself.
Cindi nodded and followed Raiden outside. I followed behind at a distance. We left the tunnel to an open construction area. It looked like it had been nestled behind a few buildings and a bit of trees, like a malformed quarry. Except, there wasn't any construction equipment. Some metal pipes and steel beams, wood, and a chainlinked fence wrapping around the far side littered the space like a graveyard of oddly shaped headstones and mausoleums. The exit to the tunnel left us at a higher elevated position relative to the rest of the area.
"We're in. But be quiet," Divanshu said. "Look around."
Down below us, some people rushed around the edge of a recess in the center of the area. We ducked behind some beams before anyone could notice. Two kids, both wearing yellow. They circled a dais at the end of the pit, which was more like an outside amphitheatre with benches stacking up toward the top. They looked like bad news. They each carried some kind of weapon, maybe a baton and a knife; it was difficult to tell. I felt like we were on the precipice of some gritty modern retelling of an ancient tragedy, the ones with togas and marble columns. Except, this time their blunt prop weapons were replaced with the real deal. I didn't want to find myself at the other end of one of those things.
Raiden said, "Look alive. More are coming."
Sure enough, another guard entered through from the front. He shouted at the two circling the dais. I couldn't hear what he said, but it seemed important. The other two brandished their weapons and followed him out toward the exit. The coast was looking clear.
"Go, go, go." Raiden urged us on. Cindi led the charge first, bolting for the center of the dais where some sparse bags were left out in the open. I followed her, but kept my eye on Divanshu. He seemed more worried than ever. He fidgeted in place and glanced all around the lot, as if he was looking for something--or someone.
Cindi dropped to her knees and began rifling through duffle bags and backpacks. Raiden joined her. He kneeled right beside her and followed her example.
"The fuck are we looking for again?" Raiden asked her.
"Little black box. Are you dumb?"
He scoffed. "I know that's what we're looking for… but give me some parameters for god's sake. How big are we talking? Is it like a charcoal or obsidian black?"
"As big as your nuts," Cindi said. "And as dark as the welts they're gonna get if we're caught. Did you see the weapons those guys were packing?"
"Obsidian black," I said, off handedly. "The box. It was like glass."
"Thanks," Raiden said. He laughed at Cindi's questionable description.
"The size is about right," I said, following up.
Raiden laughed again, before growing eerily quiet.
Cindi's search grew louder, more desperate. She threw an empty bag to the side and began shaking another. The flimsy canvas bag rattled like a maraca. A number of random school supplies poured out after she overturned it. Pencils, pens, and erasers. She emptied another bag of stuff too. She sighed like a balloon deflating, with all her energy flowing out too.
"It's not here," Cindi said. I stood over her and tried to help look. There was nothing I could notice. I felt a hand grip my shoulder.
Raiden said, "look alive pipsqueaks." He stared up at the top of the amphitheatre. Cindi and I followed his gaze higher and higher until the exit slipped into view. However, the view was blocked by a group of figures. Just before the lip of the recess, five other high schoolers glared down at us. I'm immediately reminded of that time on the wharf, when Lynn was staring down at Cindi and I on the beach. Except, this time I only recognized one of the figures. And he wasn't particularly tall. They must have been waiting for us to let our guards down.
"Hey, I remember you two," Brady said. His arms crossed and his eyes smirked. He was enjoying himself, catching us in the act. Raiden tensed up. He brought his fists to eye level, like a boxer.
"Would you look at that," Raiden said. "Looks like you've got an admirer."
"Hardly," Brady said. "I just can't seem to ever forget a face." He was intimidating from afar, like the image of an apex predator, a wolf or lion, whose eyes were only visible in the dark because of their ghostly illumination. It wasn't that dark, and he wasn't that powerful, but something about him reminded me of a feeling from earlier. A sinking dread in the back of the archives of my memory. Then, I'm reminded of the other person I felt this way with before. Paradigm. Even thinking about him made my skin crawl.
"It's been a while," Raiden said, stepping in front of Cindi. "How's your sister?"
"Don't talk about my sister," he said, curtly.
"She doesn't know you're here. Does she?"
"What are you doing here?" he asked. "I've got a reason. Don't suppose the three of you do."
Three?
"Hey man," Divanshu said, stepping out from the side. I didn't even notice him. "Why don't you cool it."
"Divanshu?" Raiden asked. "What the hell, man?" He looked visibly pissed. I could feel the heat rising from his chest.
"I didn't want to do anything. I just … I owed Brady a favor." He turned back to Brady and said in a lower voice, "You said you guys wouldn't do anything to them."
"We won't," Brady said.
The sound of footsteps pattered down the stone recess with a trickle of desperation following each thump. At the entrance to the site, Lynn rushed through the gate and stopped in his tracks. He was panting, coughing, like he just ran a marathon. He wiped the sweat from his brow and stared down at us. All of us. The flicker of a flame lit his eyes. He cursed under his breath.
"Back from your smoke break?" Brady asked, his voice carrying up and out of the pit.
"What the hell is going on?" He asked. "Why the hell are they here, Brady?"
"They're your initiation," he said. His attitude remained flippant, as if he knew he had the winning hand in a poker tourney. "These are the kids who put you on your ass, right?"
He sneered at him.
"So what? Why does that matter?" He began to walk forward and closer to Brady. What was he doing here? I chanced a glance back at Cindi and she appeared just as confused as I was. Then, I saw Raiden's calculated scowl. As if he was piecing information together in his head. I thought he must have recognized Lynn, which should not come as a shock since Raiden knew about Brady's band. There's only one conclusion I could come to, then. They must be in the same band. Another question, however, was why was he rushing to get here? What did he know?
"Everything matters," he said, avoiding the question. "What are you looking for?"
I didn't know what to say. Raiden spoke up for us. "A little birdie told me you guys have something of ours." He punched his open hand. "We came to get it back."
"Oh? You mean this." From his pocket he pulled out a folded cloth. He uncovered it to reveal the black box, this time glowing a little brighter.
Raiden's eyes widened. Then, he whistled. "I guess we found it. Now, if you'd just give it back to my fr--groupies here." He gestured to Cindi and I. "Then we'll be on our way." 'Groupies'? Really? He could have said 'associates', and we would have gotten the message. I almost laughed. Almost.
"What the hell?" Divanshu said. "What do you mean by 'initiation'?"
Brady stared back at him. His smile curled inward, twisting into a glare. "I'm offering exactly what you turned down." He nodded to two of the guys with bandanas covering their mouths. They got the message. His yellow thralls nodded and grabbed Divanshu.
"Hey! You said you weren't gonna do anything!" Divanshu shouted from between the two of them.
"Let him go," Lynn said. A feeling ran through him. He shivered slightly. "I think you should … let them all go."
"Oh?" Brady said. His eyes narrowed at Lynn. "You think?"
"Yea," he said, sternly. "I think so."
"I know for a fact that you're not thinking, though. Come on, man. You've been weird all week."
"I've been weird? You've been weird for the last few months." He stepped forward. Brady turned slightly to face him. "I don't know what this lurking shit or work with the Saints is for, but I'm done."
"You're just gonna give it all up? Break up the band?"
"I didn't break it up," he said, pointing to himself. Then, he stuck his finger in Brady's face. "You did."
I saw Lynn's head get knocked back. Something happened. Whatever it was, it happened too quickly for me to follow. One moment Lynn's finger was wagging in Brady's face, the other he's on the ground. One of the goons was towering above him. His fist wore a bit of dirt on it, and a little red too. Blood?
"We can have a chat about this after," Brady said. "Get up." He paused in thought. "Please."
Lynn struggled to climb to his feet. Brady leaned over him, closer now.
"I didn't want to have to do this. We're friends, man. I've known you since we were kids. The last thing I want to do is fight you…" Lynn grabbed him by the collar. The others went to pull him back. Lynn reached for Brady and started to grapple him.
"So you'll just get these dicks to do it for you?"
"People like me." His tone shifted and the struggle seemed to switch. He was confident. Confident that Lynn wouldn't hurt him. He let him grab him and hold him. "People like me, and hate you. That's how things have always been. You never had a problem with that before."
Lynn struggled to keep his head up and eyes on his old friend. He couldn't recognize him. As if he was looking right through him. Then, I knew Lynn couldn't stand to see him anymore. Brady, noticing the slight hesitation, shoved him off. Something deep within me wanted to break Brady's nose.
I had to do something, or else, that certain something down deep would want to claw its way out.
Then, I heard more footsteps. This time, two figures emerged from the entrance and into the site.
The taller figure walked with a purpose, like he knew the path his feet would take, and exactly how they would take him to where he wanted to go. It's not a look that most people could pull off. At least, not people like me. It was that kind of gait that instilled a sort of fight or flight response. Even Brady could feel it. The twisted steps of ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum. And triumphantly, the clink of a metal baseball bat.
The tall figure wore a varsity jacket and a baseball helmet. He pushed the other figure forward. His captive fell to his knees after the final shove came from the giant. His silver bat caught some of the light that flashed off of Brady's carnivorous, teethy grin.
"Would you look at that? Star of the Underwood Academy's Underdogs."
Cindi's eyes lit up. So did Raiden's.
"Jesse!" she shouted. Jesse Caulfield, who Cindi had mentioned in passing, struck down Brady with a terrifying glare. Under the brim of his batter's helmet, he stared daggers into Brady and his crew.
"Let my friends go," he said, simply. The kid he shoved forward awkwardly shuffled to his feet and bolted for the exit, seemingly aware of the danger they were in and made the choice to get out of dodge. The four guards accompanying Brady looked at each other, unsure of the situation.
"Or what?"
He pointed the bat straight at his head. We didn't need any explanation for what he was planning to do. His stance was evident enough that he was here for business. Brady understood that too. Anyone could catch that.
"You picked the wrong day to play me, Caulfield."
As if a string pulled taut snapped from the tension, the weight of the room suddenly started to roll. Things were now in motion. Brady nodded to the four other gangbusters to take things into their own hands. Jesse brandished his bat and was on the group quicker than a runner making it home. Raiden did not hesitate either and bolted for the top of the steps, furious, with nothing to hit back with but his fists.
One of the thugs stopped him halfway up. Raiden, blood boiling and headstrong, did not stop. A glint of light caught my eye. The thug held something long and slim, a bit of metal in his palm no longer than a screwdriver. A knife. The image of Raiden getting run through with it threatened my confidence, but I realized almost immediately that my worries were unfounded. Raiden reached into his back pocket and pulled out his own folded cloth. He threw it into the thug's face, and a cloud of dust and white ceramic pieces left little cuts in his skin. It looked as though the bandana protected him from ingesting the shards directly. While the thug's hand went to protect his eyes, Raiden grappled with him for the knife, which fell onto the stone ground and clattered down a few of the steps toward Cindi and I.
Jesse was in the thick of it up top. He swung for one of the thugs with a baton, knocking it from his hand and giving him a cold kiss on the cheek on the way back. A large welt replaced the skin where the bandana covered his face and he crumpled to the ground with a quiet thud.
The other two thugs swung for him, only to miss him on his recovery. Jesse's feet shuffled and followed with rhythm, like the tide, or a dancer. It wasn't long before he swung again for the nearest one of them. This time, another guy with a small knife. Brady watched patiently, waiting for an opening. Divanshu was trying to say something to him, maybe pleading, but Brady wasn't interested.
If there had been another way to deescalate, I could not have guessed. But I knew we weren't gonna be able to stand up to them.
"Cindi, let's go."
"What?" She looked at me shocked. "And just leave them?"
"There's nothing we can do. Raiden and Jesse can handle themselves."
She bit her tongue. I knew she'd be angry. She's the kind of person who'd want to fight.
"I'm not going to just leave my friends behind." She stared at me, testing me. "Jesse came here, for me. I'm not gonna just run and leave him behind. Raiden's sticking his head out for us. Monty, when will you stop pussying out and dig your heels in for a fight."
The words hit me like a baseball bat. I didn't have much time to register the blow. Cindi was already making her way up to Raiden. Dammit. What the hell was that? Does she have a death wish?
Raiden delivered an admittedly satisfying hit to the thug. He reeled back from the punch, twisted, turned and hit back. Raiden took the hit on his arm before letting a right hook knock his lights out. Jesse fared a similar win, knocking out one of the fighters up top. Brady was making his way down towards us.
"Cindi!" Raiden shouted. "What the fuck are you doing still here? Get the fuck out of here!"
"No," She said back, defiantly. She held her head a little higher. "I'm not leaving you guys without taking a punch or too."
Raiden looked back at me, still down by the dais. He was hesitant.
"Be careful, Raiden!" Cindi shouted.
He swung back toward the top of the steps, Brady was far closer now, and he was itching for a fight. Raiden readied himself before a raw and dry crack lifted his head. Brady snapped some of the ceramic debris and was already mid swing before he could even think.
Raiden took the hit and it sent him buckling into the side of the recess. Cindi threw all of her weight at him. Brady laughed and swung back. Cindi ducked, and in a move similar to when she fought Lynn, circled around to land a light jab and jump on Brady. He swayed but caught her and slammed her to the side within a few efficient moves. She snarled from the side and lifted herself up to regain lost ground.
She stopped in her tracks. Her fury turned to worry as Brady perched over Raiden, knife across his neck like a talon caging his prey.
"You're done," he said.
Cindi was stuck. If she moved, who knew what Brady would do. I thought about using the lapse in the fight to escape. Cindi's words stopped me in my tracks. Damn it. Maybe there was something I could do; No, there was nothing holding me back but thoughts about that fucking box. It pushed everything else out of my mind. My plans, my ideas, my common sense. It's all because of that thing. I ground my teeth against each other and like a furnace, the heat of my blood returned to my fingertips.
"Don't get it twisted," Lynn said from the steps. "You're done. From his hand he revealed the box. Was it glowing a little brighter? I thought it must have been. He must have taken it from Brady in their scuffle. Lynn, maybe you're not such a bad dude. But what did that make me? When even that asshole knew that enough was enough, I wanted to run. It was like that on the wharf too. I think I even felt that way with Dharia. I was so afraid of her, of Paradigm. I thought I was doomed, I wanted to run. Dharia didn't run. Cindi didn't run. Lynn didn't run. Dharia's words stopped me from turning on my heels and running for another set of steps to get me out of there. "I won't let you control me any longer." The words ignited me. The tips of my fingers stung like static.