Caped (Book 1): The Burdens of Fate (16 page)

Nena knocked hard on the door once, followed by
a lengthy pause before she knocked again.

"Sé que estás ahí, abre. Sólo quiero
hablar, yo sólo estoy aquí para intercambiar palabras."

Loosely translated, she said,
"Open the
fuck up."
At least that's what I got from it, I copied some words I
put in Google Translate for that bit above. None-the-less that was the exact
moment I discovered she was fluent in Spanish, which probably shouldn't have
surprised me as much as it did considering our trip to Japan. I asked
just how many she knew, her response was a nonchalant, "All of them."
That completely shut me up. I can only guess that she was joking, but I doubt
it.

A heavyset old lady half opened the door asking
what we wanted and Nena kindly explained that she just wanted to talk.

"And who are they?" the woman asked.
"Friends?"

"Something like that, I'd like to consider
them friends,"

Nena replied. "May I come in?"

The woman hesitated for a moment before asking
if she had a choice in the matter.

Nena smirked, briefly dropped the pleasant
demeanor she'd been using, spoke in English which we were aware they spoke
fluently, and answered with a cold smile that was unmistakably threatening,
"Lady, you always have a choice."

The entire block was watching us, eyes peering
from various windows, corners, and cracks of houses. She opened the door just
enough to let us in. The house was full of tiny little knickknacks that showed
it was thoroughly lived in but made it neat and homely just the same. The kind
of house you see in those coffee table home decor books, complete with natural
light flooding in from almost every direction.

The woman walked us into the living room where
Luis Santiago, a pyrokinetic, was waiting. Leaning forward with his elbows
resting on his thighs and his hands falling between his legs. I knew he'd have
a gun, so it didn't surprise me. It was more a cliché display of force than an
actual threat, and one which he definitely didn't have need for.

The woman who let us in leaned against the
doorway that led to their kitchen, legs crossed, arms folded, and never taking
her eyes off Nena. An idiot could tell she didn't want us there, if for nothing
more than the unwelcome attention. Their house phone rang once while we were
there, one of those old corded one's you can hang on the wall. She lifted it up
just enough to stop the ringing and promptly let gravity hang it up, only for
her cell phone to repeat the process a moment later.

Nena made herself comfortable in the chair
closest to Luis, speaking a few words under her breath while resting her hand
over the arm and letting a small amulet hang down. She politely introduced
herself, trying to put her nicest foot forward, "I'm here to gauge your
interest in joining my team."

The depth of his suspicion breached the walls
of his eyes and bled all over his face, he barely held together just how much
he was writing us off. We were a joke to him. "And what exactly is it you
could possibly hope to accomplish?" he asked.

I'd like to think Nena's given this speech a
million times, at least that's how she delivers it, like a pleasant answering
machine with a cold apathetic disconnect. "One that realizes the
shortcomings of society today, how you're separated by meaningless borders,
kept hating by pointless wars..."

Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. I've heard her
say it so many times I don't even have the interest to write it out. In short,
she's assembling this team because we believe everyone wants to live in a
better, more humane, society. And as hard as everyone tries it will never
happen, because they're trying to initiate change "through the very
structure that prohibits true freedom."

Trigger word, he was waiting for it. Knew it
had to be coming, and when he heard it he acted if he'd caught her in a verbal
trap, gently waving his gun at her in excitement.

"Freedom!" he shouted. "It's
always about freedom right?

Freedom of religion, freedom from tyranny,
oppression, and occupation. Almost everything worth fighting for is a fight for
freedom. Hell, even terrorists fight for their
freedom.
"

"
You want me to become a terrorist, don't
you?" he asked, steadying his hand and his aim, switching back to his more
threatening tone. "Tell me why I shouldn't kill all of you right now, and
parade myself over the news as a hero?"

"First, because you can't," she
replied, in a quick stubborn manner. Mainly because I would have seen it happening
and Raphael would have gotten us out. Second, the amulet that was hanging off
her arm had one purpose, to hypnotize the both of them. That prevented any
unnecessary violence, and rendered them harmless.

Magic. I don't even pretend to understand it.

Luis grew visibly agitated, shifting about
uncomfortably in his seat.

She took note but paid it no mind. Given his
ability it was a necessary precaution. Nena continued, "As I've stated
before, I want you to join my team..."

He cut her off with a highly sarcastic,
"Riiiight." Continuing on with an equally dramatic and almost
insulting, "To
change the world
, right?"

She paused, holding back a sting of great
frustration, "...Yes, to change the world."

This is when her attitude started to slip out,
I knew it was coming and even warned her against it. I told her that perhaps
Raphael or I should approach this man, but she was adamant, and because of
such, things were falling apart. He wasn't buying it and openly questioned our
ability to do such.

"Because I have chosen to," Nena
responded. "And my will shall not be denied." The house began to
shake a little, just like that night in Tokyo.
Everyone paused to take in the moment and let the tension settle.

Nena then looked to me as if to ask if she'd
said enough to convince him. Honestly, she'd done nothing more than threaten
and intimidate him, but I could tell her patience for the situation was
fleeting. I told her "no," that it wasn't enough. To which her
response was, "Too bad. We're leaving."

Raphael and I moved towards her. "I came
here to convince you," she said. "Obviously I'm not the best at that;
never was my forte."

"So much for your
will,"
he
mocked.

Nena was done talking, however, her offer
stood. If he rejected it, Nena would remove any memory they had of us; if he
accepted it, he'd be among the saviors of our species.

"I'll need more information," he
said, catching us before we jumped away.

"And you'll get it, but only if you join
us," I said. I instructed him to leave his answer on a piece of paper on
his kitchen table; he had forty-eight hours to decide.

Raphael placed a hand on our shoulders and we
were gone. Nena's role was a failure, and she was visibly frustrated by his
disrespectful nature, but that didn't mean his mind was made up. He was
intrigued, just not enough to take such a leap of faith. Luckily for us he was
teetering dangerously close to the edge and all he needed was a little push.

She slammed the door to her room almost
knocking it off the frame. "I want it done!" she screamed, before
going dead silent for the rest of the day. And those four words were more than
enough for me, the rest were implied. She doesn't care who, or how, the only
thing that matters are results. And without the convenient ability to teleport away
at a moments notice, that task has fallen to me.

I'm honored.

–
4/12
–

Edward Otep -

March was truly an incredible month, so much
changed so fast.
And then an eerie quiet as we pulled all the
pieces together.
A fierce start with a mundane end,
"In like a
lion and out like a lamb,"
right? Too bad it couldn't last. We're in
the thick of April, and it's ready to make fools of us all.

"Even the best laid plans of mice and men
often go awry
." It's as
if fate is determined to deal me the harshest hand possible. One step forward
and two steps back, the cycle continues.

"
...And all our yesterdays have lighted
fools the way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking
shadow, a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then
is heard no more.
"

The president’s daughters are missing, taken
from their rooms in the dead of night. No alarms rang, no screams were heard,
and not a single stand of DNA left behind or any leads to go by.

But most alarming of all is, again, I didn't
see this coming. Strike two, let's play ball.

Dennis Shaeffer
-

If you want an idea to stick you've got to
start young, very young. They've gotta have fun with the idea; learn with it,
live with it. You can't just tell someone something and expect it to stick, and
why should you? What credence have you given to that idea, why is it worthy of
taking up a persons time and energy? None… unless you hook them.

Poverty isn't even enough. Growing up with next
to nothing, cleaning your clothes in the same river you just bathed in, which
in turn
happens
to be the same river you're going to
pull your dinner from; it isn't enough. First you instill curiosity, then you
plant the foundations of knowledge, and then you give them the truth: The
system is flawed.

So, how do we fix it? People often ask this,
ignoring the fact that it's been answered many times, and in a variety of ways.
They want the answer but the moment it involves any kind of disruption to their
cozy little lives it's dead to them. People want the world to change, they're
just not willing to change themselves. We're not going to make everyone happy,
it's impossible. So just pick the one that works best for you and go from
there.

And it all starts with the children. Parents
will go to great lengths to get their children back. It only makes sense after
all the effort, time, and
money, that
go into raising
a decent child, only to find that so few are capable of properly loving and
respecting each other.

There are thousands of individuals capable of
making the world a better place for their children and ours, but they spend it
debating the usefulness of war and indulging their insatiable greed. Greed
that's to the betterment of no one; it's like a virus that's slowly killing
those that continue the cycle. It should be them in the cell, not their
children. But as always, the sins of the parents weigh on their children.

Of all the places Nena has brought us to, this
was the most isolated. A desolate environment. Where? I'm not sure; I could
only see a slit of sky through the cracks in the rock above. Wherever the
location, it's nestled deep in the mountains. Only Raphael and Nena know for
sure.

I had no clue how far the nearest person was,
even less any form of civilization. It was hot and unforgiving, and I started
sweating almost immediately. I seem to be in a lot of those environments
lately.

The thin canyon in the mountain slowly turned
into an underground cavern, brown rock walls that shrank thinner and smaller
the more we kept walking, guided into increasingly narrow crawl spaces, lit
only by the flashlights we'd been told to bring along, and Nena as a guide.
Down to our hands and knees, the passage suddenly opened to a small rocky
tunnel with shoddy construction lights stuck into the walls of the immediate
vicinity in an ad hoc manner, giving off that tired and dusty yellow light.
Within a few hundred feet the brown rocky tunnel gave way to smooth concrete
walls. Sterile and gray, signaling the start of a long extended hallway.

Along the hall were small open rooms with
slightly rusted iron doors that lock from the outside. Hopefully we'll only
need the two, she's prepared for much more.

The stale moist air seeped into my clothes, a
nasty feeling mixed with the damp moldy smell of that old structure. Dust hung
in the air as if frozen in some type of stasis, only moving when a human
presence required it to do so. The lights were old, of the incandescent
variety, but still worked well enough, even if they did give the whole place a
ghostly feel.

We walked through corridor after corridor, each
a series of metal doors, checking each one to see if the locks were still
sturdy, and indeed they were. The cold sterile hallways conflicted with the
bright and colorful interiors of the rooms. Open and comforting, yet an
awkwardly and constant reminder of their imprisonment; tucked away without
hope.

At the end of the first hall was an elevator.
Nena simultaneously pressed the buttons for three separate floors, after which
a fourth button began to flash; she let it flash five times before pressing and
holding it down. I have no idea which floor or area this took us to, all I know
is the trip was short and that I watched Nena, for the first time, carry on
with a calm anxiety.

The elevator door opened to darkness, but we
could sense we stood before something great. She motioned us to stand back,
which we did, and she cautiously stepped foot inside the room.