Stasis: A Will Vullerman Anthology (18 page)

Then Jamin turned around, reached into his jacket, and pulled out a gun. “Now, answer me this question: do you think I'm that stupid? What, that my specially encrypted file had been opened—did you think that I wouldn't have found out about that? You tripped the alert pretty good.”

Ty took a step forward, standing beside Will and raising his own gun.

Will kept his gaze on Jamin, but his fingers dug into his pocket to find the handcuffs key. There! He trapped it between two of his fingers and lifted it out of his pocket. Then he maneuvered it into the lock.

Jamin waved the gun. "Don't make me shoot you first, boy. Now, I saw the readings on my monitor. Earthquake and all that. You should have fixed our internet connection earlier, boy. We might have had some warning. Before we leave, however, drop your gun...or I'll shoot your friend here.”

Ty took another step forward. “What if I shoot first?”

“You grew a conscience, boy.” Jamin's voice was hard. “You can't kill anyone, now that you've realized that you've let all those people die. Drop the gun, and toss your stun rod too, while you're at it.”

Click. The handcuffs unlocked, but Will held them in place to keep up the charade.

Ty tossed the gun, and it slid across the floor. Then he pulled his stun rod from a pocket in his coat and tossed that aside too.

“Good,” Jamin said. He gestured toward Rolvo with the gun. “Now pick him up. We're taking him with us.”

Ty strode forward and hefted Rolvo's prone body over his shoulder. Jamin snatched a satchel from beside the machine, keeping the gun trained on Will. “All right. Let's—”

There was a loud rumble, and then the room shuddered. Jamin cursed and looked up at the ceiling. Will let the handcuffs clatter to the floor, taking a step back.

The corner of the room crumbled inwards beneath the shaking pressure. Will struggled to keep his footing. Out! Get out! Will turned and hurled himself out the door. Something caught on his shirt. A hand! Will turned and kicked Jamin. The old man stumbled and fell backward into the room as the ceiling began to cave in. Will dove out of the room, landing on his shoulder and slamming his back against the wall.

Then all was still. Will sat up and rubbed his eyes. Ty was already standing and staring at the rubble, his face grim. The concrete around the former doorway was cracked, and dirt had poured through the opening. The fluorescent lights flickered through the dusty air.

"We've got to get out of here before the whole place caves in," Ty said, turning and offering a hand to Will. Will took it and stood up.

"Rolvo?" It escaped from Will's lips like a whisper, but he already knew the answer: Will had lost Rolvo again.

He shivered. No! He should have grabbed Rolvo or something. Or maybe Rolvo was still alive, trapped beneath the rubble. Emotion bubbled up in his throat, and he forced it back down again. Calm. He had to be calm.

Ty shook his head. "I'm sorry, Will. He slipped from my back—I was running...”

Will knelt and dug through the rubble, tearing away at the crumbled concrete and dirt.. "But—he was near the doorway, right? Maybe we could dig him out."

There! Something pale, near the base of the cave-in. A hand. Will dug out around it. A youthful hand, not one of Jamin's gnarly ones. Will grabbed the wrist and checked the pulse.

Nothing.

Will swallowed hard and stood back up. He closed his eyes for a moment.

Agents died sometimes, he knew that. But never on his watch. Not when they were his responsibility. Rolvo was the first.

Will opened his eyes again, taking in a deep breath. He had to separate himself from Rolvo's death, at least temporarily. He had to focus on escape first.

He felt Ty's hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, but we need to go. There's not much time left.”

Will followed Ty down the hallway, limping. He could feel his leg throbbing where one of the boulders had cut him. A smaller tremor shook up more dust in the air, but the underground building seemed to be holding, at least for now. How were they supposed to get out in time, though? The city was ten or fifteen kilometers away at least.

Five minutes later, Ty ducked into a smaller doorway and Will trailed behind him. As he entered, however, the lights went dead, engulfing him in darkness. Will growled. Great, now they had to escape in the dark?

Ty muttered a curse and Will heard him fumbling in the darkness. A bright light blinked on inside some sort of vehicle. It was ten or fifteen meters long, convertible, and resting in a trough that extended into the darkness. It appeared to made of metal, but Will couldn't tell. The light showed two seats and a few glowing buttons inside the car, as well as a windshield-type pane of glass in front of the seats.

"What is this?"

"Think of a subway." Ty slid into one of the two seats in the car. "I built it a couple decades back when Jamin ordered me to make an escape route. It'll travel in this trough at high speeds, so we'll get to our destination fast. Climb in."

"But the lights—"

"It runs on gas. I got parts from old cars. Get in and buckle!"

Will climbed in and strapped himself in. Ty pulled a lever and the car roared to life. He pressed two buttons and then pushed a pedal with his foot, and the car lurched forward, gathering speed quickly until the cracked speedometer read over ninety kilometers per hour. The wind rushed past them in the tunnel, and Will gripped his seat as tightly as he could.

There was a rumble in the tunnel, and Will could feel the vibrations. Something crashed in the distance, but Will couldn't tell where the crashing sound was coming from. And then the car slowed down until it halted with a jerk.

"Out!" Ty ordered. "There's stairs on your side."

Will felt for the curb and stood, stepping onto the platform carefully. He shuffled forward in the darkness, arms extended, until he felt cool, rough concrete on his palms. "To the left or the right?" Will called.

"Left!" Ty's voice was behind him.

Will turned and walked left, his hand on the wall, until his hand met with open air. He felt with one foot for the stairs and then climbed as fast as he could without tripping. Footsteps behind him told him that Ty was following.

The ground rumbled again, shaking beneath Will's feet. The rumble began to grow.

Will abruptly stopped when his outstretched hands met with a rough surface. A door? He scrabbled for a handle. There! He turned it and light streamed in.

He stepped into an apartment's kitchen and squinted in the light for a moment.

The rumbling grew louder. He ran through the kitchen into the dining room. Dishes clattered on the table, with half-eaten food still piled on them. The rumble grew as the house began to shake.

He turned through a wide doorway into a living room. There! An open front door. The shaking grew harder and Will stumbled, falling out the front door into the street, rolling several times. Ty jumped over him. Will's elbows burned, but he stood up up and backed away from the house.

With a series of deafening cracks, the house crumbled in on itself. All down the street civilization shuddered, clogged with houses and apartment buildings packed tightly together. People streamed into the streets.

Something cracked loudly, and the ground heaved beneath Will's feet. Will couldn't keep his feet and fell again, skinning his palms. He fell sideways onto his stomach. There was screaming and shouting, and the sound of crashing—splintering—crunching.

And then...silence. The blacktop warmed against his cheek.

Will pushed himself up and rubbed his eyes.

The street had been devastated. Houses had collapsed, brick apartments had caved in, and like a flood in the streets, people meandered about in shock, staring at the wreckage.

"Well, we survived." Ty's voice. He stood beside Will, his hood pulled up over his face and his long coat dusty and smeared with dirt.

"Yeah. I'll have to try and call the ASP later and tell them to pick me up, if I can find a comm." Will looked sidelong at Ty. "Will you come?”

"Come with you? To the ASP?”

"Yes."

Ty gave a slow shake of his head. "I can't. It's better that people don't know...about this. Tell the ASP what you want about what happened, but don't tell them about me.”

“But what will you do?”

Ty sighed. “I don't know. I'm not sure who I am yet.” He took in a deep breath. “But I know what I want to become. It's time for me to turn my mind to something other than experiments and security systems. I want to become something more. I want to love things again.” He stared down the street. “Do you see that woman over there?”

Will followed Ty's gaze. A woman was digging in the debris of a half-collapsed one-story building, tearing at the rubble with her bare hands.

Ty buttoned his coat shut and nodded toward her. “She looks like she needs help. The ASP can wait.”

Will shrugged, and started toward the woman. She saw him coming and shouted to him. Tears streaked her face. "All I own is in there. My life savings."

"I'll help you out." Will gently pulled her away from the wreckage. "Don't get splinters, ma'am."

Will turned and called to Ty, "Ty, will you—"

His words caught in his throat.

"Where did your friend go?" The woman still held on to Will's arm. She gazed down the street.

"He's gone," Will murmured, half to himself. The immortal man had disappeared, and as far as he knew, Will was the only person that knew he existed.

As if Ty could still hear him, Will whispered, "Good luck, Ty. And goodbye.”

A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

Several readers have asked if Immanuel's African handshake is a real handshake. Yes, it is! Handshakes that involve the “snap” are common in west Africa, and as far as I know, it may be widespread in other African countries as well. If you pay attention to how Immanuel did it in the story, you may be able to replicate the “snap”, although it is difficult for foreigners to master.

Immanuel's accent is also based off of an actual dialect called Liberian English. Since this story takes place in the distant future, and since Immanuel lived in Europe for a long while, I took the liberty of changing it: while it still sounds similar to the original accent, the actual dialect is much stronger and much harder to record on paper.

If you want to be kept up-to-date on my latest writing projects, please visit my blog at
Teenage
Writer
,
and
check out my nonfiction work at
Reflecting the Mirror
. If you want to give me feedback on Stasis, or any of my stories, my contact info is on the site! I'd love to hear from you.

Thank you for reading! I hope to revisit the world of Will Vullerman soon. Until then—I bid you farewell!

—J. Tobias Buller, August 2014

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I am deeply indebted and grateful to the many people who helped—and, in some cases, inspired—these stories. Here are just a few of them.

Many thanks to Christopher, who was ruthless in critique and made my stories much better; to Eldra, for thorough and thoughtful edits; to my parents, grandparents, and siblings, for being themselves and reading with eagerness; to Sarah (alias Pathfinder), Sandy, and Storyteller, for reading the first drafts; and to my blog readers, who always encourage me and have cheered me innumerable times. (Special thanks to the Bermuda Triangle folks for letting me kick around ideas. You know who you are.) And also thanks to “Dmitri”, who is an excellent proofreader.

And all of this is written in and through Christ Jesus, who is my life. Thank you, God, for allowing me to write. Soli Deo gloria!

If
Stasis
, consider checking out
The War Horn
, a fast-paced historical fiction novella in Norman-controlled Britain.

John is the son of a Norman lord, and has resigned himself to following in his father's footsteps. But when his parents are kidnapped by the malevolent Lord Gair, to get them back he must pay a price greater than anyone could imagine: the Holy Grail of ancient legend.

Available now for Kindle, Nook, and the iBooks store for just $2.99!