Barcode: Cavern of Youth (24 page)

Needing to speed things up, I catch as much of the darkness in the hallway that I can before zooming in front of Seth and striking him in the back of the neck. Or that was the plan, but somehow, he caught my reflection on the bottle and ducked below the punch. His movement was so strange that I couldn’t believe I missed.

Seth drunkenly blares, “You tried to kill me,” while staggering on his tiptoes. “So I’m going to kill you.” He falls on the ground and leaves the bottle next to his hip. Then, he rolls into a ball and kicks me in the stomach. I fly back into his wall.

Did he kick me purposely? That was really unpredictable. I thought he was passing out.

Drunkenly searching the room, he stammers, “Where’d you go, bitch?”

Carmen rushes to the door. “Are you serious Kay? We’re late and you two are playing around.”

With my eyes still closed, I soften my expression and pout, “This is embarrassing. I think you’re about to see him beat the hell out of me.”

“Damn right!” Seth catches sight of Carmen from the corner of his eyes. He twitches as he spins around. “Oh! You’re cuter when I’m drunk. I’m Seth and soon to be the father of your child, if you play your cards right. What’s your name again, sexy?”

Trying to capitalize on his loss of concentration, I swing at his head. The drunk bends down and kisses his painting. “Whoa. Did I really draw this?” Then, he jumps backwards and his entire body bashes into mine. “Are you trying to hurt me Kay? Are you? Are you attacking me? Huh? I thought you were my best friend.” He rolls over and relentlessly punches me in the face. “I thought we loved each other. I thought we’d be together forever. Well, you’re not really my type, but that hologram thingy you kick it with, fine piece of technological yum-yum.”

My intent isn’t to hurt him so I tickle the drunk until he falls off. Then, I try striking him in the neck again, but he practically disappears.

“Kay!” Seth staggers to the opposite side of the room. “What the hell man?”

Carmen storms in and I try to stop her. “No!”

“Papi, you really have to get it together.” Seth holds his fits up. She demands, “Kiss me, idiot.”

He quickly lowers his hands and she stops right in front of him. “Okay.” As Carmen pecks him on the lips, she injects him with a syringe. “Ow! Ow! Ow! What’s that?”

“Something to help you sleep.”

“Hey! Thank you.”

Seth happily walks to his couch and pulls it from the wall. Then, he lies on it and falls asleep.

“Let’s go. Now!” She rushes out of the room and strikes the elevator door. I follow her quickly, still wondering where the syringe came from and disappeared to.

In the elevator, Carmen presses her body against me and starts kissing my face. When she moves down to my neck I say, “There aren’t any wounds there.”

“Sorry,” she croons while continuing. When the elevator opens, a few staff members from the first floor mall observe us with judgmental eyes. Two women are maids and the other lady is a scientist that mainly works on the fortieth floor. The maids chatter with brimming smiles. The scientist stares at Carmen as though she were a whore.

When Carmen spins around, her face flushes red. She grabs my hand and leads me out of the building. “You could’ve told me they were there.”

“But then they wouldn’t know how cool I am.”

“You’re so sneaky.”

Our light jog evolves into a full out sprint towards Gardezi’s class. It takes three minutes.

Gardezi stops me outside of the classroom. He’s leaning against the wall, reading messages on his phone. He continues flipping through his text. The last one says,
You have thirty minutes to get here and acquire the data. They’re moving soon.

“I told you to be here at seven P.M.” Gardezi glances at the time on his phone.

“Busy day.”

“Jules is going to kill you.”

“This is a favor I’m providing you. Though you’re my professors, don’t treat me like the pets you have in the room. If you need my assistance finding the Cavern of Youth, fine. But don’t pretend like you hold authority over me on a weekend.”

I listen as a smile breaks across Gonzales’ face inside the room. She relays the message to Jules. Gardezi can sense what’s brewing inside so he steps out of the way.

The door flies open and Jules approaches me in a threatening manner. “You listen here, little snot. I will not have this mission compromised. I will hang you myself before watching you mess things up.”

“Will it be painful?” I zip up my jacket and throw on my hood, causing my face to disappear into the darkness.

“Boy. Don’t tempt me. Not only is your life on the line, but your grades as well.”

“Let me clarify: I couldn’t care less about grades. If you think you’re bold enough to lay a finger on me, try it. Your mission, whether I choose to accept it or not, is to acquire documents from a militia base in East LA. Unfortunately for you, they’re hiding in an apartment in the projects. You need me to figure out a way for us to get in without alerting the leaders, because you can’t. Whether I succeed or fail doesn’t matter because you haven’t been able to get within a foot of this group.”

“How?” A bead of sweat falls from his forehead. “How do you know that?”

“That’s my job, isn’t it?” I waltz into the classroom with my hands in my coat pocket. Angie grips her chair tightly and Monte sneakingly rubs her arm. It helps her to relax a bit. “Hey folks. I’m your new search and destroy team member, but only if a few demands are met.”

“Demands?” Gardezi echos while laughing. He strolls into the classroom and announces, “Kay. You’re my type of kid.”

“Jules.”

The peppered hair professor boils with fury. His glasses slump on his face and his head trembles lightly. The old man snaps, “You will address me as Professor Jules!”

“Are we in your class?” He doesn’t respond. “Jules, you’ll keep Malik away from all of us when he’s released from the hospital. If you’re wondering why, I hate him. But pleasant personalities don’t seem to run in your family. I’m sure you understand.” I wait to see if he’ll blow his top. A wad of spit leaps from his mouth as he grits his teeth. The others watch him closely also. Angie smirks briefly, but returns to contained princess mode immediately after. “Double check to make sure he stays away from Carmen. If she gets hurt, I’m out.”

Gonzales releases a quick burst of laughter. Then, she gestures towards the door.

I lead the pack to the center of the battlefield. We hop into a miniature helicopter with Desert Storm written on the tail. This beast was modeled after a jet. It has a similar body to one, but there are propellers over its head and on its tail. This aircraft can seat seven, but most only fit two or three passengers. It must be Jules’ elite helicopter that Malik brags about to all of his friends. Supposedly, it makes no sounds, can retract its propellers, and drive on the road.

Carmen asks, “Where’s the pilot?”

Angie responds, “Shut the hell up if you’re too stupid to know what you’re sitting in.”

Carmen shudders. The delicate girl folds her hands in her lap and sits quietly as the glass door slides closed, the chopper bolts into the air and zips through the sky, topping out at five hundred miles per hour.

There’s no time to see or take in the sights. The helicopter lands on East Atlantic Boulevard and El Portal Place. We step out next to drivers that are raging past and honking. I grab Carmen’s hand and pull her back towards the helicopter to stop her from colliding with the front end of a big rig that was too impatient for us to move out of the way. Either that or he couldn’t stop. The way he runs through the red light, I’ll assume it was the latter.

History books tell us that East Los Angeles was a booming Anglo populated region in the past. Then, this thing called segregation kicked in. Now, lowlives are pushed into these areas because they can’t afford “normal” housing. Though they struggle to get out by dealing drugs or working on their education—whichever comes easiest—they’re often killed before making something of themselves.

Most of the projects in East LA were in Watts at one point. All that changed during the GAW. Military officials managed to have a lot of battles in that area. A genocide occurred, killing off many soldiers and gang members. The city was then rebuilt by many financially wealthy people that could use both Watts and Compton as central locations for access to the beach and downtown Los Angeles. The area is booming with gladiators and other entertainers. Most movie stars live in that area. Some call it “New Hollywood”.

Because the housing development there was removed, city planners built larger ones in East LA. Buildings out here are generally fifteen stories high. Thousands of residents can live in one development. Now that my sight has returned to a ten mile radius, I can hear many of them and know what they’re planning. Let me say, it isn’t a college education.

These people are influenced by GSE or neonball. Most residents want to become the next Jay Jay. Though the culture in this place is very diverse, the mentality isn’t. Investors attempt to use the violence that occurs between gangs as an excuse to turn places like this into reality sports entertainment productions.

Vincent’s plan is to make this the first Californian Block Party in history. If he does, his fortune will increase drastically.

The others follow me as I run down the street and the helicopter takes flight. We walk on the sidewalk, heading south down Atlantic.

“Look at the buildings. They’re run down and the air is musty. The walls are tearing apart and could probably fall at any moment,” Carmen says while holding tightly onto my arm.

“This is how they live down here, but back away and stand up straight. You don’t want to draw a lot of attention to yourself.”

As we come to the corner of Cadiz Street, I step into a swap meet and head to a section that sells casual clothing.

I command, “Everyone take off your armor and put on something you like. Five minutes.”

Monte stares at me in his bulky armor as customers passing by do the same to him. “Why do I need this? What is it? Cotton?” he asks arrogantly.

Angie tries to hide her excitement while rummaging through various racks. Carmen hasn’t moved an inch. She’s probably thinking the same thing as my airhead brother.

“We have to make it in and out without causing much attention to ourselves. Do it or stay here.”

Monte complains, “Who left you in charge?”

“Me.”

Turning away, I walk to a counter with an older man and woman. Their nationalities are too diluted to guess. The man’s skin is darkened, but he has tight eyes and smooth hair. The fair woman’s eyes are also tight, but they’re narrow and low. I can hardly tell if her eyes are opened or closed. Her skin is pale and hair is thin. Both have wrinkles stretching across their foreheads and from the corners of their mouths.

I slap eight hundred dollars on the counter. “Let us take anything we can put on and that’s yours.”

The man’s words are slurred and the right side of his mouth hardly moves as he says, “Uh. Yeah that’s fine.”

“Carmen. Come here.” She prances towards me and rests her cool hand on the back of my neck once she stops. “His heartbeat is irregular and I think he’ll have a heart attack in two or three days. His lazy eye and lips are signs of a stroke, right?” The beautiful girl’s lips glow pink and she nods her head. “Heal him.”

“Now?”

“Now,” I repeat while lifting her onto the glass counter, which displays belts and fake watches.

Her lips illuminate the older man’s face. She presses her mouth firmly against his and holds him for four seconds.

His weak and slow heartbeat evolves into a smooth and constant one as Carmen’s data reprograms his heart. When she pulls away, he grins from ear-to-ear. The woman next to him looks furious. She slaps his butt three times.

He articulates with a smile, “Stop baby. She kissed
me
, now. I couldn’t stop her.”

“Listen to your voice Martin and your lips are moving. Look at you.” Tears swarm her eyes and a smile possesses her face. “Look at you.”

I place another five hundred dollars on the counter. “No one should ever know we were here.”

Martin stares at the money in amazement, and his partner hugs him tightly. Carmen skips over to some clothes that Angie threw to the side. Her eyes glimmer when she finds what she likes. She undresses quickly. Angie slaps Monte’s arm. He takes another peek before looking away.

The fashionistas and I finally exit the building and continue down the street.

Monte’s wearing all black. He has on a hooded zip-up jacket that’s too big, even for him. I forced him to loosen his belt. Now his pants hang at his waist. But he refused to remove his armored boots. Luckily, they’re black.

Carmen’s wearing a navy blue skirt and knee high socks. Her sleeveless jacket is camouflage green and it’s a zip-up as well. The outfit was obviously meant to resemble mine.

Angie found a colorful V-neck sweater that hangs off her shoulders. Her black skinny jeans show off her hips beautifully.

“Why didn’t you change?” Monte asks angrily.

“I don’t wear armor. I have on bandages, jeans, and a jacket. What do I need to change in order to blend in?”

“You can stop leading the way if you’re blind. That looks awkward enough.”

Spinning around, I face the idiot. “My hood is on.”

Angie barges between us and barks, “Both of you shut up until we get to the complex.” Those wise words lead us down the street until we’re on the corner of Atlantic and West El Repetto Drive. The buildings here are lime green for the most part.

I inform everyone, “There are fifteen levels. The drug dealers and scientists operate on the same floor in adjacent rooms.”

Angie bounces up and down. “I know why! They use the drug dealers for protection and as an alarm. If someone tries attacking either side, they’ll escape and make everything go kaboom! Kode taught me.” Suddenly, she returns to her solemn state. I think she just remembered that I’m her enemy.

“Yeah. We’re going to get the drug dealers to take us to the scientists’ lab.” Using my phone, I send everyone a text message. “But I want all of you to hold onto a combination for me.”