Volare (Part 1) Page 4

  “Where is it?” he says, to my mother.

  My mother remains silent. He moves closer and takes off the remaining half of his mask. His skin is pale and his short, blonde hair stands straight out from his head as if it were trying to escape. He looks at me. Dark rage-filled eyes see right through me. A gash on his chin leaks fresh blood. I can tell he wants his revenge, but for now, he is focusing on something more important to him.

  He turns back to my mother. “Where is it?” he says.

  She stares at him blankly.

  “Ok then,” he says. He signals to a nearby Volare. They toss him a gun. He points the gun at her. My mother continues to look right through him. I want to scream. I try to force myself to keep it in, but he notices. He lowers the gun away from her and he walks over to me. He presses the gun to the side of my head. I can feel the vacuum of air inside the hollow barrel. “I won’t ask you again,” he says to her.

  “I’ll tell you! Don’t!” my mother says.

  All of a sudden the stadium lights cut out and the field goes dark. At first I wonder if I’m dead when the cold metal lifts off of the side of my head. I feel my heart racing. I wait to breath once I realize that I can still hear.

  “Turn on the lights!” screams the Volare leader.

  A few yards from me, I hear the sound of gunshots and several of the Volare start to scream. Before my eyes can adjust to the darkness, the lights cut back on and I see the Volare shooting at air. Somehow, one of them is thrown across the field and flies into a group of the others. The lights turn off again.

  My mother crawls over to me and slams herself against me. “Get down!” she says.

  A flurry of bullets and screams start, as the lights continue to cut in and out. I lay on the ground and everything I can make out tells me that the Volare appear to have lost their minds. They are shooting at air and each other, with several of them flying across the field into one another. Then, I hear a familiar sound.

  I see a small, red-headed girl in a nightgown, laughing as she skips through the field among the chaos. The lights continue cutting in and out. Every time the lights cut back on, the child is appears in a different area across the field. Each time, the child appears slightly older. I make out the Volare leader trying to take aim at where she might be next. He shoots several times, hitting only air.

  My mother lays next to me, saying nothing, her eyes fixed on the tree line. I turn to see what she’s staring at and I find Winter as she appeared in my room. She is standing still, nightgown too small for her. It’s as if the Volare don’t see her. It’s almost as if she’s watching them the way that I just was. Never once does she look at my mother and I on the ground.

  The Volare continue struggling to fight back and stop the younger images of Winter among the flashing lights. I keep my eyes fixed on her standing at the tree line. Behind her I see a bush rustle, then out comes a dark hooded figure. She seems to not see it behind her. I try to scream her name, but no sound comes out. I try again and again with no success. The tall shrouded figure places a pale hand on her shoulder and instead of turning toward it, she finally looks at me. I try again in vain, to speak as her as eyes meet mine. The lights cut off again. When the lights cut back on, Winter and the figure are gone.

  The gunshots cease, and the images of Winter vanish. The lights stay on and the Volare that are left, gather themselves. Their leader walks up to us. Two Volare force my mother and I to stand.

  “Take them. Now!” says the leader.

  I turn to my mother and her eyes meet mine. I watch as a Volare throws a black bag over my mother’s head. I immediately feel cloth go over my head as well. All I see is black. The sharp pain of a needle pricks my arm and I pass out.

  ***

  When I awaken, I am in a small, well lit room. The walls are smooth and silver, the same color as the table in front of me. I am cuffed to the chair I sit in. The one other person in the room, a single Volare, stands in front of the only door. I try to move the chair, but it is bolted to the ground. To my surprise the pain in my side is almost gone, which I don’t understand because I was sure a rib was broken. In the corner, near the ceiling is a camera. Behind his black mask, the Volare sees me wake up, but does not move.

  After a moment, the door opens. A man walks in, dressed different than the Volare. He has on a black suit and wears no mask. Instead of the jacket with the large white ‘V,’ he wears a small badge on the left side of his chest- a golden ‘V,’ of the same nature. I can tell that he is older than the other Volare and seems to be closer to my mothers age.

  The Volare that guarded the door, exits the room. I observe the man, scanning him for any type of weapon. He has tan, weathered skin and his hair is groomed. He blue eyes appear void of rage or any related emotion.

  “I want to show you something,” he says. The man gestures toward the camera near the ceiling. Immediately, a hidden screen lifts up out of the table in front of me. An image appears on the screen. It is a room identical to the one I’m in, except my mother is at handcuffed to the chair. Behind her stands a maskless Volare. I can tell by the spiky blonde hair, that it is the leader of the ones who came to the cottage. In front of her, on the other side of the table, stands the man who is currently standing in front of me.

  “This is from a few moments ago,” he says.

  I watch the screen as he begins to talk to my mother. “Rita, I need you to tell me where it is,” he says. His voice is calm and almost sympathetic.

  My mother’s frozen stare does not break. She refuses to speak. “Your son already told us that you have it,” he continues. I look away from the screen, toward the man. He points back to the screen. I focus back on the image, hoping my mother doesn’t fall for his lie. She remains silent.

  On the screen, the man starts to pace the room. “Rita, you have to work with me here,” he says. “You know what’s at stake. The Council wants to kill both of you. The only reason you are still here is because of me and because of our history. But even I can’t make them wait for long.”

  “Where is Adam?” she says. Her voice cracks and sounds tired.

  The spiky haired, blonde Volare behind seems on edge.

  The man ignores my mother’s question and continues. “Does the boy know about his father? Who he was?”

  She repeats herself. “Where is Adam?”

  “Rita where is the cure!” He says. “Just because I might want you to live, doesn’t mean that they do! John is not here to save you. He’s gone! Tell me where it is!”

  She sits up straighter, eyes fixed on him. “Where. Is. My. Son?” she says.

  The Volare behind her punches her jaw with the gun in his hand. Blood gushes from her mouth. The man in the suit signals the Volare to stand down. Then he turns toward the camera in her cell and signals it to be turned off.

  My blood feels hot. I scream and try to pull myself free from the chair as the images start to rush back to me. Blood dripping from my mother’s mouth. The black bag going over our heads. The coldness of a metal gun against my skull. I continue to fight, trying to break the cuffs and the fact that I can barely move, makes me even more enraged.

  The man stands in front of me and waits. I force myself to stop. Breathe. Breathe. I repeat this to myself over and over. I focus on the air entering and exiting my body. I shut my eyes and continue to breathe, the images of us being abducted still come, but I try to view them as if I were never there. No, this was happening to someone else and I just happened to watch it. This did not happen to us. After I calm myself, I open my eyes open and the man is still standing there.

  “My name is Sydney Craft. I am a general and I’m here on behalf of the Council.”

  “Where is my mother?” I ask.

  “Adam Alexandrus, both you and your mother have been convicted of treason against the city of Astra in the country of Ather. Because of this you are not permitted a trial and at the Council’s command, the two of you are to be executed.”

  The way he says the wo
rds makes it seem as basic as reading a dinner menu. The two of you are to be executed, also tonight we will be having baked chicken and a side garden salad.

  “The Council has urgent matters to attend to, this is why we didn’t come for you two sooner. A disease outbreak has occurred in all the major cities. It is of unknown origin. Thousands have already died, hundreds of thousands will surely follow.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them. Keep your mouth shut! I scream to myself. He can read your emotions if you talk.

  He studies my face to see if I don’t already know the answer to the question. “Believe it or not, the Council was ready to write you two off as a loss,” he says. “They figured two fugitives from Astra would not last long on the surface. No need to go find them.”

  I do not believe him. I can tell he is already spinning lies.

  He studies my face, waiting for a response. I can see in his eyes he knows I won’t believe a word he says. All of a sudden, he reaches behind himself and pulls out a gun. He points the gun at me, then quickly up to the camera near the ceiling and fires one round. The shot echoes in my ears as the sound bounces off the walls of the small room.

  “There. Now it’s just you and me,” he says.

  I force myself to remain calm and sit up straight. I feel as though I am already dead. There is no way to tell if my mother is still alive or what Sydney Craft has in mind for me. Breathe, I repeat to myself, as I prepare for the worst.

  “When was the last time you experienced true pain?” he says.

  When he says this, the words sound like someone else spoke them, from far away. I wait for the words to catch up to me so that I can process them. I know he’s trying to intimidate me.

  He smiles. “When was the last time?”

  This time when he says it, he almost laughs.

  After I don’t respond, he moves on. “Do you know anything about your father?”

  I try to ignore him and show no signs of interest. This is hard because from the video, I can tell that he knows something about him. Or maybe he started playing me the moment he began interrogating my mother.

  “That’s fine,” he says. “You don’t have to talk. I’ll talk... The Council knew everything about you since you were a little baby. We knew when you ate... when you went to sleep... your favorite color. We knew when you got sick. We knew what was happening to you.”

  My mind tries to follow what he is saying. If the Council knew when I was sick, they had to suspect my mother would steal something to save me. He is getting trapped in his lies.

  “I’m sure your mother didn’t want you to know what was really going on. What do you really know about her?” He asks.

  I stare at him blankly.

  “But that’s Rita for you, keeping her mouth shut to avoid the real trouble. That’s how she got to work for us.”

  Work for us. The words don’t even sound right. My mother was scientist for the Council at their headquarters. Not the Volare. She had nothing to do with their psychopathic army.

  He reads my face quickly. “Oh, she didn’t tell you? Did you know that your father, John Alexandrus, was Volare?”

  His words don’t stick. I am done with his lies. “Where is my mother?” I ask.

  He ignores me and continues. “I was just an associate at one point, subordinate to even those lackeys in the gray who took you from that cottage. Your mother was the youngest lead scientist in history. She and I... we were in love.”

  My mother would never love you, I think. He is clearly mistaken.

  “It was then that she was contracted out to help the Council make a super soldier. Our best soldier, your father, was the lead candidate. That’s how they met.”

  I ignore his story. “Where is my mother?” I ask again. The more he talks, the more it’s harder to keep myself under control.

  He leans over the table, toward me. “Here is what’s going to happen. Inside that old silver book, your mother holds a lot of information. One of the those things happens to be a cure for the virus that is threatening to wipe out our entire civilization.”

  Why would my mother keep a cure to herself and let people die?

  “As far as the Council is concerned, the two of you are already dead. It’s your choice if we save the lives of countless others. Women... Children... They’ll die. Your mom can change that. If we can get her to cooperate.”

  He steps back from the table and walks to the door. Before he leaves, he stops and turns around.

  “I know you think I’m lying. But there are things you don’t know about your mother, and maybe if you knew, you might think differently. You might try to help.”

  He opens the door and leaves. Two Volare enter. One has a syringe in hand with a green liquid. The other carries a small bag made of black cloth. I know what’s coming next, but I don’t even fight it. There is no point. The bag slips over my head and the needle enters my arm. Like Craft said, I’m already dead.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  When I wake I’m in a cold dark room. The bed that I’m on feels like concrete. I sit up and realize that I’m in a prison cell. The room is clean and absent of anything besides my bed and a toilet.

  I stand up and see a set of plain white clothing, neatly folded at the end of my bed. I ignore the obvious suggestion to put on the uniform. Thats when I notice that the cell door is slightly open.

  I get up slowly and stand in the room in front of the cracked door, trying to listen for anybody outside of the room. After a few minutes, I allow myself to believe that it’s not a trick. I open the door just wide enough so that I can slip out. Staying tight to the door, I look around me.

  The building I’m in is dimly lit. I stand on a narrow walkway, with a glass wall as the only barrier between me and open air. When I walk closer to the glass, I can see more cells on the other side of the building. Cell after cell, on countless floor wrap around the circular building. I look down, but can’t see the bottom. I look up, but can’t see the ceiling. There are no signs of life. No noise at all. And I notice every door is closed. Every door except mine.

  “Speak of the devil!” I hear from down the walkway. I look to my right and see two large figures headed my way fast. “That’s him!” I look to my left and my first reaction is to run, but from what I can see it would be pointless. The walkway is just a loop around the building with doors that probably open to more cells. I quickly slide back in my room and try to close the door. The door closes all the way, but does not latch. I continue to push, but it keeps wanting to crack open. Maybe they weren’t talking about me, maybe they didn’t see me. I hold the door shut with both arms and try to breathe quietly. Maybe they’ll keep going.

  The door is thrown open as if I was never holding it at all. I jump back and ready myself as the two figures enter my cell. They are both tall and muscular. Their skin is darker than mine and their eyes even darker still. They wear the white uniform that was at the end of my bed. I think my mind is playing tricks on me because they look exactly the same, but that’s when I realize it’s because they are twins.

  “This can’t be him!” One says to the other. “He’s not even huge.”

  “No, this is the guy. Him and his mom took out six Volare.”

  I hold my stance, just out of their reach. While they argue about who I am, I go over the scenario in my mind. If I can punch one in the throat and take him out quickly, I might stand a chance.

  “Well let’s see if he’s really what they say,” says the first one. He flashes an evil smile and steps closer to me. If he tries to grab me, I’ll break his hand. If he punches, I’ll counter.

  “You might want to rethink that,” says a voice at the door.

  I watch as the expression on both of the twins faces change. It’s clear they recognize the voice.

  As they step aside, I can see who the voice is coming from. He’s just a little taller than me and probably just a few years older. The same white uniform covers his thi
n frame. A pinkish patch of skin covering his temple, stands out from the rest of his face, which is so pale that it looks like it has never seen the sun.

  “We were just checking Dom,” says one twin.

  “Yeah, just saying hi, you know,” says the other.

  They tower over him and I wonder why they appear to be so afraid.

  “Out,” he says calmly.

  Without another word they exit the cell. I stay in my fighting stance. Judging by the way they ran from him, I need to be prepared. He looks me up and down as if he were counting the ways in which he would kill me. Without warning, he starts to laugh.

  “So you’re some kind of prodigy,” he says.

  His laugh throws me off guard and his words distract me for a moment. I almost drop my guard. “What are you talking about?” I say.

  “You don’t look special, you’re just a boy,” he says. He almost looks disgusted.

  “You’re just a boy,” I say back.

  He laughs again. “Yes, you’re right. I am just a boy. But we’re talking about you.”

  I try to not let the confusion of the conversation get to me. Something about him seems snake-like. I refuse to allow his words to affect me.

  “They were probably gonna kill you, you know.” He gestures toward the door. “Or at least try... The twins... Yeah they have a bad habit of playing too rough.”

  How do I know you won’t try to kill me? The thought runs through my mind and I can tell my body language is showing it.

  “Oh ok. I’ve been rude. I’ll start. My name is Dominic 00851. I’m a Sagittarius and enjoy long walks to the dinning hall.” He smiles at his own joke and extends his hand out to me.

  I don’t smile. I stay in my stance with his hand in front of me. I know that if he moves closer, I’ll have to strike first to still have a preemptive advantage.

  “Wow, you would think that you never heard of a handshake before.”

  I’ve said this before. Even though he’s clearly dangerous, something about him seems very similar to me. He stares at me, hand extended, waiting.