Barcode: Legend of Apollo (11 page)

After realizing the two wimps don’t plan to enter the dungeon, I force them down the steps. When we’re halfway through, I release them, but they hold onto me so tightly I can hardly move.

Hannah laughs a few times before actually doing something to help. She waits until we hear a strange sound before pushing the two boys away and holding onto my arm. Sarcastically, she whispers, “Oh. I’m so scared.”

Directly in front of me are the students from Louisiana. I watch Kode. It’d be natural to assume he had something to do with last night’s event, especially after seeing hair blow in the wind, but after the instructors’ investigation, Monte, Kode, and Angie each were supposedly being lectured by Professor Jules about training after nine o’clock.

Angie laughs as Hannah and I fight off Leo and Yukio. My cousin says, “Cute.” Hannah tightens her snug grip to an agonizing squeeze.

When we finally make it to the bottom, where the heat feels like it’s reached, oh I don’t know, a good enough temperature to cook us, Casey takes out an apple and sits on the ground. That’s not something I’d try in my lifetime.

The ground’s pitch black and a low fog covers our feet. My paranoia kicks in and I activate my barcodes to determine if anything’s approaching me. I detect several bugs the size of my feet. Using my better judgment, I decide to avoid mentioning that to the boys.

Yukio timidly asks, “What do we do now?”

“Well, there are two types of weapons down here, multi-layered and single-layered. If you’re searching for a multi-layered go to your right.”

“What’s multi-layered?” Leo asks, unsure of the battle system. I’m now curious to know what made him want to become a gladiator if he’s never seen a transmuting weapon.

“Leo you know their technical names as Multiple Integrated Barcodes and Single Integrated Barcodes. But Penélope didn’t let you out too much did she?” Casey winks. “Most students call them MIBS and SIBS. SIBS are weapons that stay the same for the most part. MIBS are for fighters like, let’s say Angie or Spencer. They have barcodes attached to their sense of touch that could potentially change a knife into a spear.”

“So MIBS can transform?”

“Yes. But we still consider it transmutation. Some weapons on the SIBS side can also change. They’re not MIBS but can perform differently based on the skill of the user.”

Yukio adds, “Like a video game. Beginner, intermediate, and expert levels.”

“Yes. I guess. Go pick your noses in the cave and leave me alone for a while.” Casey bites his apple before belching, “Oh. The rules in the school don’t apply here, so if you want it, fight for it.”

Leo and Yukio rush towards Hannah and me, shamelessly begging us to accompany them. They promise to grab the first weapons they see because they don’t want to be left alone with any creatures. For my own amusement, I join them for a bit.

I watch the Louisianan students separate. Of all things, Kode goes towards the MIBS and Monte towards the SIBS. Because Kode’s an Ape, I doubt he’ll be able to use the anything here. Not even the most powerful Apes to ever wear Tartarus were able to leave with weapons from this cave.

As Angie joins our group, Hannah takes a step closer towards me. We walk the two sissies towards the SIBS. It’s a small room that most people pass through because anything this close to the entrance sucks. This section’s half the size of our classrooms. Sharp rocks dangle from the ceiling, threatening to crash down at any moment.

Despite the temperature, water drips from the stones overhead. Yukio flinches every few seconds when one strikes the ground. A drop lands on my shoulder and I see a small cloud form near my neck. What kind of water is this?

This underground hell is such a mystery.

Even the professors are unsure why weapons appear in this place, but some say the cave is an entrance to Hades. According to legend, gatekeepers bring the tools every four years. Professor Gardezi isn’t the spiritual type, so he believes that other instructors illegally forge weapons and hide them in various places.

This dungeon is the reason Dennis refuses to move to a more beautiful country, or even a nicer part of the state. He’s more spiritual than Gardezi, so I’m sure he believes in the story about Hades.

The two idiots searching the room could care less about the history. Leo and Yukio wildly rummage behind rocks and in corners to find something. No one else bothers to help. Weapons in this cave are known for choosing their owners against their will. Accidentally touch one that likes you, and nothing else will merge with your barcode.

After two minutes of intense searching, they only find a bronze staff and some strange black substance.

“Roshambo you for the staff,” Yukio suggests.

“Let’s go.”

Leo wins the staff, but ignorantly tries to hand the goo to Yukio. It binds to his hand and the boys scream. Yukio picks up the staff and tries to beat the goo.

I leave with Angie and Hannah to find the MIBS. As we travel deeper through the cave, Angie seems to become more antsy.

“You okay?” I wonder if Hannah might get upset with the simple question. She does.

I’ve been around plenty of girls before, but never one that actually made Hannah this jealous. I’m partially enjoying this and would play more into it if Angie and I weren’t related.

“No, jerk. You haven’t even shown me around campus. Do you know how many times I’ve gotten lost? When did I ever leave you alone in Louisiana?”

Now that we’re further away from the crowd, Angie’s southern accent slips out more. She’s always been the southern belle, but Vincent beats the localism out of her. He claims she should maintain a professional demeanor at all times. Interestingly enough, neither Monte nor Kode have that problem.

“All the time. You were always training.”

“I was not. I took you to any place daddy told me to. I always asked, 
Spence how long will you be?
 I was never late, even if I got lost. I played with you every night, I cooked for you, and we took baths together.”

If Hannah turns any redder, she’ll burn off her clothes. There’s nothing I can do to save myself from this wreckage. I’m losing a verbal argument with Angie and a nonverbal one with Hannah.

Still, my cousin’s right. I forgot how much she did for me when we were kids. I owe her a lot.

“I’m sorry. I’ll give you a tour tomorrow.”

Hannah does something very peculiar. She holds my hand. Normally, that would be great in a dark cave, but her tattoos strengthen her arms. This crap hurts.

“I don’t care anymore. Do what you want,” she says while avoiding eye contact with Hannah.

With guilt swarming through me, and pain crushing my hand, I say, “I’m sorry. One more chance. Please.”

Angie finally drops her warrior demeanor. The energy defuses through her body and she shakes with excitement while saying, “Okay. I can’t wait.”

My cousin might play the princess to everyone else, but I know the overgrown kid on the inside. When we were much younger, she always played jokes on the locals. She once said that Vincent would only allow her to have fun if I were around. She pleaded with Dennis to allow me to visit more often. Interestingly enough, that was my last trip to the South.

“I heard that you’re after Shiva,” Angie says happily.

Hannah’s still not pleased, but my armor’s very supportive. It has formed a protective glove. Though it feels like leather, it resists the monster’s death grip. Finally, I can enjoy holding Hannah’s hand.

“Yeah.”

Clapping and bouncing up and down, Angie jabbers, “I just want something shiny.”

“Shiva’s shiny, but you can’t have her.”

“That’s fine.” After thinking about it she says, “No it’s not. If it’s really shiny, I want it…But Spence. Of all the powerful weapons in this cave, why her?”

I tell the story about the trishula. I explain that the Titans and Buddhists created a material that became our tattoo ink, but she laughs at me.

“That’s not the story.”

“What? I was told that directly from Talib.”

“Talib the lion?”

“Yes.” Angie only laughs harder, which makes me more upset.

“Talib is a prophet created by men experimenting with stamps; he studied in our land a few years ago. He never finished his test and left before finding the truth.”

“How do you know this?”

“My arena was built in the same city of New Orleans that he studied in. He was never aware of the bodiless spiritual beings with data strong enough to see.”

“And that sounds real,” I scoff.

“Well, it is an exaggerated way to say they’re holy, but they know things about The Writer that others don’t. Shiva is a trishula, but not from the Titans. The Writer placed her in our story for one purpose: to end the war.”

“How will she end the war?”

“By creating more war. She’s meant to assist in creating more destruction, so that peace can be found.”

“No. I was told I would fight with her, and you’re saying she’s meant for evil.”

Sounding mysterious and tender, Angie stops and says, “Why can’t evil begin and end a war? Think about it. Peace has never ended violence. We’ll never find peace until those that do evil stand against it.”

“I don’t believe you!” Shiva is mine, and I won’t hear otherwise.

“You don’t have to, but you will have to learn that a pure heart can’t end war. Pure means you’ve never experienced evil, and lack of experience will kill you on a battlefield.”

Twelve

After an hour of searching, I still haven’t found Shiva. Both girls have their weapons and are relatively pleased by them. Well, Angie’s psyched. Hannah’s doing okay considering she lost a fight to a girl she obviously thinks is more attractive.

Swinging the trident known as Kongo in a circular motion, Angie smiles and sings a very famous Japanese song, 
Niwatori no kawa 
by the band B’GM, while traveling through the dark maze. I’m not sure if Angie purposely chose lyrics about having goosebumps to mock Hannah, but I’m glad the jealous girl doesn’t know what she’s singing.

Hannah whips her blond hair and enviously looks at Angie from the corner of her eyes. While traveling, Hannah jokingly admitted she wanted a trident to match my predestined trishula. But Angie liked the “shiny” light omitting from Kongo, so the two women decided to fight.

The light brawl ended as quickly as it began.

Hannah exhibits a very organized charging method, using rocks or people for cover. With nothing near to assist her, she was forced to attack head on. But the athletic Southerner performed an aerial maneuver that landed her directly behind Hannah. Angie locked Hannah’s arm and playfully threatened to snap it.

“It’s not that I want to, but bones are so fragile. You never know when they’ll just pop,” Angie said while twisting harder. Hannah didn’t seem to care much about having her arm broken, but Angie whispered something in her ear to change her mind.

I pretended to look away while Hannah screeched under Angie’s grip. Hannah surrendered, claiming the trident wasn’t that important to her. Not long after, Hannah came across her own weapon.

It happened as Angie practiced shaping her trident into a shield. It shined bright enough to reveal a small gun in a very dark corner with black widows surrounding it. Hannah stared at the weapon for nearly five minutes before picking it up. I would have complained, but it seemed to be a very emotional decision.

We’ve passed countless weapons by now, none as shiny as Angie’s or compact as Hannah’s. Some seem more powerful than Casey’s bow and arrow, but none like Shiva.

The moment I entered the cave, I heard a tuning sound and I know she’s calling me.

Another thirty minutes into the journey, and I notice how tired the ladies look. Hannah stumbles. Angie holds Hannah up while pulling a bottle of water from her pouch. Before handing it to Hannah, Angie stares at the bottle strangely. She pours the water on her hand and flinches in pain. Too hot.

“You two go back. I’ll find the weapon on my own.”

“Why? We can’t leave you.” Hannah says, nearly out of breath.

Angie interrupts, “I’m with the both of you. Hannah and I should leave, but I don’t like the idea of you being alone.”

The argument has just started and already we have trapped ourselves in a stalemate.

“Okay. Stay here. I’ll go up a few more minutes, and come back if I can’t find anything.”

The women reject the idea, but I don’t care.

The further I travel away from Angie, the more I realize how much light her weapon provided. Even my suit struggles to enhance my vision in this darkness. Still, I continue to press on. I can’t leave wondering what would have happened if I’d just gone a bit further.

After walking fifty or sixty yards, the tuning increases. Motivated to find her, I begin running towards the sound, which eventually turns into light. When I’m nearly there, I trip over something.

I fall hard enough to make a disturbing sound to the ladies. Their feet chase me down followed by, “What happ—?”

All together, we stare at Shiva in all her glory. She’s a golden trishula surrounded by beautiful dark rocks that radiate like a black light. Shiva doesn’t resemble Angie’s trident at all. Instead, it’s more like a shorthand weapon, or three daggers that can attach to a staff.

After closer inspection, I see two equal sides to the trishula, making a total of six blades. It hangs delicately from a single spiderweb.

I approach Shiva. As I step closer to the light, I see Tartarus standing right next to her. Rushing to defend my destiny, I yell without thinking, “Get away!”

In my head, I hear laughter. Now I know I’m losing it.

Kode reaches for the blades, but I explode, “As a slave, you have to hand that over to me.”

Angie interjects, “That’s not a slave mask. Some of our spiritual men call it The Helm of Tartarus.” Damn.

Slaves are required to obey gods at all cost if their owners aren’t around. If twins are born and only one is a god, a slave mask is given to the mortal. The mask will then connect to the god’s barcode and force the mortal to obey their sibling until death. I knew of Tartarus’ power, but had no clue it gave the owner freedom.