The Collector (27 page)

Simultaneously near the station’s back entrance, Neil breaks free from a rope tangled around his foot. No thicker than a shoestring, he is unaware he just set off Quado’s alarm as he continues forward through the darkness while Inna follows close behind.

“I thought you knew this person?” Inna asks, concerned about their stealth and secrecy.

“It’s complicated,” he whispers. “We didn’t leave on the best of terms.”

“You tried to collect them?” she assumes. “Did they actually volunteer?”

“Only Slayter does that. Now quiet down,” he shushes her. “We don’t want her to run.”

Neil steps out onto the soundstage and targets the dusty white sheet covering the cage on the table. Using Quado’s bird as leverage worked the last time he needed something from her, so he figures he might as well use the same tactic again.

The parrot squawks just as Neil pulls the sheet off. “Rise and shine. Rise and shine.” However, unbeknownst to him, one corner of the white cover is connected to another hidden rope, this one much thicker. It triggers a domino effect, retracting upwards from Neil’s feet to a pulley system rigged to the lighting grid mounted above the soundstage. Neil immediately recognizes it’s a trap and shoves Inna out of the way just as a cargo net yanks upwards and whips him two meters into the air.

“Neil!” Inna shouts.

Neil’s legs dangle as he struggles to break free from the coarse mesh, but to no avail. Just then the soundstage lights whir to life, followed by the eerie laugh track.

“You come to threaten my bird again?” Quado’s digitized voice blares out over the station’s intercom system.

“Neil sucks,” the parrot squawks from its perch inside the cage. “Neil sucks,” it repeats, a newly learned phrase brought about after Neil’s recent visits.

“Code 12.12.b. Looks like I got me another caged pet,” Quado taunts.

Neil shields his eyes from the harsh soundstage lights as he looks up towards the control room window. “Quado, we need your help,” he says.

The click from the intercom sounds over the speakers before the omnipresent voice follows, “Who’s we? Got bugs in your hair?”

Inna picks herself up from the floor, also shielding her eyes as she faces towards the direction of the mystery person. “Neil says you’re the best at what you do.”

“Humor me,” Quado says. “What am I so good at?”

“Never losing hope,” Neil states.

The sincerity of Neil’s words catches Quado off guard. From the control room, she can feel his eyes focusing beyond the bright lights and staring straight at her. She’s not used to someone being so honest. Silence fills both rooms until she presses a button on the control panel to lower the mounted lighting grid, which in turns lowers the cargo net. Neil’s feet return to firm ground.

Moments later, Quado cranks the shaft on the portable generator to recharge life back into the soundstage. The eerie laugh track rings out.

“A Collector and his assignment,” she notes. “The Agency’s slipping.”

“Why the traps?” Neil asks.

“Why not visit when I’m not asleep?” Quado fires back. “You’re just lucky you didn’t come through the front. We’d still be peeling you out of there.”

Inna furrows her brow as she wonders just what kind of trap this lanky teenage girl could have set, but she quickly becomes distracted by the fully clothed mannequins positioned at the country themed kitchen table.

Neil gets straight to the point. “We need your help. We need to find Sage.”

“The market’s always moving.”

“Where’s the last place they were?” Neil asks.

“What makes you think I know?”

“Pretty bird,” the parrot squawks mimicking the familiar female voice, presumably Quado’s mother. “Pretty girl.”

“There’s eyes and ears everywhere,” Neil quotes Frank from the slums. “You’ve had to have heard something out on that corner.”

Inna moves to examine the parrot inside the cage, taken aback by the bright rainbow of colors. “This is beautiful. This is supposed to be extinct.” She turns to Neil, her eyes lit up in wonder like a child’s. “Neil, it’s the city’s bird.”

“Careful, it bites,” Neil warns from past experience before turning back to Quado. “What about the hidden tunnels? We both know those exist.”

Quado hesitates.

“Do you know the entrance?” Neil asks.

Quado notices Inna extending her finger for the parrot. The bird inspects it, first nibbling at her, then as Neil cautioned, pecking hard at the tip. Inna pulls away. Quado
clicks
her cheek at the parrot, “Watch it, you stupid bird.”

“Stupid bird. Stupid bird,” the parrot repeats.

“It’s okay,” Inna says.

Neil continues to lobby for assistance. “We’re not asking you to help the Agency or the Brigade. There’s a third side to this. The side I know you want to be on.”

Quado cocks her head in confusion. Neil slides his PDA on the table.

“If you truly believe the dam wasn’t an accident, maybe there’s something in there,” he offers. “It’s deactivated, but it’s the best I can do to help your parents.”

Quado’s fingers twitch, nearly unable to hold her composure as she eyes the device that holds so much potential information inside its database. She knows she can hack it if given the chance.

“You’ll need to blend in,” she says as she finally gives in and grabs the PDA device. “Otherwise they’ll scatter like roaches.” She tosses Neil a pair of clothes from a costume trunk near the side of the soundstage. The wardrobe is in line with the country theme of the set – a plaid flannel shirt and dark jeans.

“This might be just as bad,” Neil says, scrunching his brow. As he removes his black combat uniform, he glances to the 4-stripe arm badge, hesitating before tossing it to the ground.

“Neil sucks,” the parrot suddenly squawks again. “Neil sucks.”

Quado laughs it off, slightly embarrassed. “Maybe I’ll teach him something new for next time.”

Neil and Inna don’t react, too concerned prepping for their journey. It’s only then that Quado notices the seriousness in both Neil and Inna’s faces as Neil finishes changing.

“This is a one way trip,” Quado says, realizing their true intent. “You’re going to ask for help to get outside, aren’t you?”

Neil remains silent, while Inna takes his hand and squeezes.

“A lot of people wonder what it’s like out there,” Quado says, now just as serious as them. “Maybe someday you can write about it.”

“And you can post it,” Neil nods.

Quado nods back. While not quite friends, it’s the closest she has that isn’t a bird or two mannequins, and now she knows this is probably the last she will ever see of him. It causes a sadness that surprises even herself. She preemptively wipes her eye before a tear can form.

“Thank you,” Inna adds, catching Quado off guard with a hug. It’s Quado’s first human connection since the dam broke. She subconsciously accepts the embrace.

“Time to lean, time to clean,” the parrot squawks in the familiar male voice to interrupt the moment, snapping Quado back to reality.

“He’s right. Time to get to work.” Quado puts back on her tough girl exterior. “Remember, they’re always moving.”

Neil and Inna slip past the crumbling statue of Octovio Helms at the center of Sector A’s dilapidated town square. His arm continues to extend outwards, not pointing in any specific direction, but pointing towards the future. The posture is reminiscent of old Roman statues where his chiseled features and confident demeanor suggest things will undoubtedly be better for those that choose to follow him.

The trek through the sector is slow and tedious as Neil and Inna take cover in the shadows while remaining on foot, pausing at every corner to peer around the bend before continuing.

Neil loses focus when they pass Paiton’s former bungalow. Her screams replay in his mind, the images of Slayter’s violent assault flashing in quick bursts.
“How could he be so selfish?”
he yells at himself. He denied Wade the chance to be with Paiton and now here he is setting out down the same path with Inna. He always felt that our choices define our futures and that we have full control over what happens to us, but now he realizes his choices can only get them so far. For their plan to succeed, he’ll need Sage to intervene and help, something Neil failed to do for Wade while he restrained him off to the side and allowed Slayter to be Slayter. He’s going to need a little bit of compassion, something he also failed to give for the majority of his career. Doubts start to creep in, doubts if he is even worthy of being allowed to make it. He’s caused a lot of pain and torn many loved ones apart, so it is foolish for him to expect his future to turn out any differently. But whether he deserves to make it out or not, he won’t let his past choices prevent Inna from escaping to freedom if that is what it comes down to. It’s the least he can do to redeem himself in this life.

Neil’s internal debate preoccupies him for much longer than intended. He stumbles to a stop as he nearly leads them past the final turn, then backtracks a block where they then exit to the outskirts of the sector. Exposed under the moonlight without shadowy protection, they jog down a dirt path towards the base of the mountain – the giant Wall looming higher up in the distance – until stopping near a RESTRICTED sign.

“Is this really where Quado said?” Inna asks, bending over to catch her breath.

Neil nods to confirm, his brow furrowed. It’s not the location that causes him to scratch his head, it’s another detail from Inna’s past. “I know your grandma came before the Wall, but what about your grandfather?” he asks. “Was he from here?”

Inna shakes her head no.

“So how did he get in?”

She shrugs, unsure.

“You think it’s a coincidence they got married at the same place Quado says are the hidden tunnels?”

Neil refers to the base of the mountain where the brick church sits in ruins, the same brick church Inna’s grandparents were married and the same brick church Neil took Inna to the night of their first kiss.

“That’s why it was so important to them,” Inna realizes. “He came through the tunnels!”

“Let’s hope so,” he says. He takes her hand as they sprint past the Agency warning sign.

Rays of moonlight pierce through the missing sections of roof, illuminating the collapsed architecture below.

The light aids Neil and Inna as they comb through the roots and vines that have overtaken the church, scouring all four corners of the structure, including the front altar and rear balcony, for any sign of the tunnel entrance. The search comes up short.

“Maybe it’s just a rumor?” Inna says, throwing her hands up in defeat.

“Quado’s intel is good,” Neil defends.

Inna plops in the bed of purple orchids adjacent to the trickling natural stream. Exhausted, her eyes gravitate to the familiar angel statue near the altar, its delicate features washed away by time.

“You told me so many secrets about the landfill,” she says quietly to the statue as if she’s speaking to her grandma. “Why never anything about this?” She dips her fingers in the trickling stream.

Neil takes notice of the moment. He watches Inna’s fingers dance on the surface of the water, creating ripples that are soon whisked away. His eyes remain focused on the propagating ripples, snatched and taken away much like they will be if he doesn’t figure something out before the Agency catches up to them.

Suddenly, Neil cocks his head as something dawns on him – the trickling stream only crosses halfway through the church before it disappears underneath the foliage with no clear end destination. He crouches down and spreads the dense patch of orchids, which allows him to trace the zigzagging stream through the center of the church and all the way to the angel statue at the altar.

“You don’t give up,” Inna says shaking her head incredulously.

“Where does it go?” he asks. He kneels to dust away a pile of stones, noticing a hair-thin crack where the base of the statue meets the floor. He leans shoulder-first to try to slide it out of the way.

“Don’t knock it over,” she says.

“I’m not Superman,” Neil jokes, knowing there is no way he could tip the solid object over. “Come help me. That water has to go somewhere.”

Neil clinches his jaw as he manages to shift the block of stone about a centimeter, then a couple more before he examines the outer rim of a newly revealed hole underneath the base – a hidden shaft leading below. He laughs and jumps in celebration.

“You’re joking,” Inna says in disbelief. “You know I don’t like it when you play tricks on me.”

“Didn’t I say come help me?”

Inna joins him at the altar where he instructs her how to push with her shoulder. Their feet nearly slide out from under them on the fallen debris while they push, veins bulging from their temples. Neil turns his back to the statue and drives his heels into the stone floor. They use all their might until the angel statue breaks loose from its barrier and miraculously slides fully out of the way, revealing a wide black hole leading below, the entrance to the hidden transfer tunnel. Neil and Inna stare at their ticket to travel undetected, one step closer to freedom. They soak in the moment until Inna hurls her arms around him, her hope restored. Neil holds her tight, then lowers his body into the darkness below.

The faint trickle of the natural stream echoes throughout the cavernous tunnel, with the water from the church pooling on the tunnel floor and continuing its journey throughout the web of underground cracks and crevices. Years of mining, blasting, and erosion has created an archway large enough for a mining cart to pass through, or even worse, a cattle car transport vehicle.

Neil drops in from above and lands on a pair of old mining tracks, once used to haul out the various types of stone and ore, though based on the rubble burying the tracks, they haven’t been used since the Wall was built. As Neil helps guide Inna down inside, she immediately notices the tunnel slithering away in only one direction, the church ruins marking the beginning of this secret path.

Neil leads them forward. Quiet. Stealthy. On alert. With the air still and heavy, the only noise that is heard comes from the occasional loose stone slipping out from underneath their feet.