Little red lights line the tunnel. It
sorta reminds me of an airport runway. The mud turns to concrete about twenty
feet in and there’s a small light up ahead. I’m really not sure what to expect,
so I get my gun out just in case.
A few paces on and the tunnel turns sharply to
the left where the light is brighter. I can hear yelling. Bike boy is yelling.
Someone is talking back to him, but he’s
laughing too. I let out my breath and relax a little as I creep forward into
the chamber. The first thing I see is the wrecked bike mounted on a red mechanic’s
lift. Then toolboxes, some weird contraption that looks like a… robot, rolling
around?
A computer, then another, and another. A whole wall of computers,
actually. Food wrappers and half-empty protein shake containers. Parts. A black
muscle car. A long table lined with shit that looks like pieces from a
chemistry lab. And a massive aquarium-sized tank holding luminescent jellyfish.
All this time bike boy is yelling and waving
those black-gloved hands in the air, splashing a protein drink all over the floor.
“What the fuck, Case? I told you not to mess
with my bike, you asshole.”
“I didn’t touch your bike, Lincoln.”
“Stay the fuck out of my business. I crashed
the goddamned bike and had to hitch a ride home and Sheila is somehow offline.
Offline! You motherfucker!”
“Calm down,” Case says.
“She’s not gonna miss
anything being offline for a few minutes. In fact, if I were you I’d be asking
how it’s possible she got knocked off so easy. Doesn’t that strike you as
weird?”
It comes from a giant face on a wall-sized flat screen mounted on the
side of a… cave? What the fuck? “And you lost your right to work alone months
ago, so don’t get all self-righteous about me being around today.”
“What’s that supposed to—“
“Hey, asshole,” the guy on the screen says over
bike boy’s tantrum, cutting him off.
“I didn’t need this complication—”
Bike boy
stops talking. Because the guy on the screen is waggling his eyebrows at me.
“What the fuck are you doing?” bike boy asks. “Stop making stupid faces—”
“We have com-pan-eee.” The guy on the giant
screen nods his head at me.
Bike boy whirls around, shoots me a dirty look,
and then growls, “I’ll call you back,” as the giant screen goes black.
We stare at each other for a few moments, our
eyes locked. “Oh, my—”
“You’re still here,” he says over me.
“—God.” I look around one more time.
1. Cave filled with…
2. Super bike.
3. Souped-up muscle car.
4. Giant flat-screen phone chat.
5. Computers everywhere.
6. Robot?
7. Some kind of science lab.
A few loud beeps interrupt my list. “Online,” a
female voice says from the ceiling. A pause, and then, “There has been a breach
and we have a visitor.” A hologram in the form of a woman appears in the middle
of the cave and I can only assume this is…
8. Sheila, apparently back online.
I look around a little more and spy… not a
cape, thank God, but a… a…
9. Helicopter, parked at the far end of the
enormous cavern.
And then I get the perfect list after all,
because I see…
10. Guns.
No, they are more than mere guns. I know my way
around a gun and these are—
“What the fuck are you doing here, gun girl? I
thought we parted back in the forest.”
“Oh, my God,” I repeat. “You’re Batman.”
Roni O’Connell lives with her husband and two dogs high in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado.
She finds inspiration in the forest, wildlife, and lakes around her home.A former English teacher, Roni enjoys the company of young adults, their spirited opinions, great enthusiasm, and outrageous humor.When Roni isn’t writing novels, you can find her hiking in the forest or contemplating the wonders of nature.
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