Shakar made his way across the upper level, his hand holding his elbow while his other held his chin. His mind fell back to the day’s events; from the airport to their arrival in Haven, up to becoming the Groundhogs’ investigators, the last two days felt more like two weeks.

  ‘It’s a bit to keep up with. Things are moving too fast,’ he thought. He stopped and looked off the edge to zone 2, which looked even bigger than the view from Prime Hill, almost like a small village at night. He crouched and held his glasses. ‘I didn’t anticipate Xole to be this obstinate. If I try to pry any further it could push him even closer to the Groundhogs.’ His eye scanned the bottom, catching sight of Snap, moving quickly through a group of people with his head down. ‘Speaking of, I never did get an opportunity to properly audit them…’

  “Greetings!” Shakar chirped, waving as he walked over to the younger man. Snap spun around, his shoulders tense. His head bobbed from left to right over his shoulders before sighing and giving a wave of his own.

  “Hiya,” he replied, “Didn’t expect to see ya out here, thought you’d be hanging out with your friends.”

  ‘His tone’s different,’ Shakar thought, “Sorry to disappoint,” Shakar said, “But if it makes you feel better I was there when I found out one of them got blown up during training.”

  “Oh yeah,” he laughed nervously, “that.” He began to walk away.

  “I’m guessing that’s why you weren’t there.” Shakar said.

  Snap put his hands up, “Yeah, yeah, ya got me.” He took a breath and looked around once more. “Just don’t tell Xole ya talked to me, alright?”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well messed up during training and got too excited and I…I already know how he probably feels about me now and I don’t want him to have a bad opinion of ya too.”

  ‘Huh,’ Shakar thought. He brought himself back, “What’s the hurry anyways? Its nit like he needs his Talent mastered by next week.”

  For some reason Snap shuddered at the date. “The longer we wait, the more of our kind are getting snatched out there and taken to who knows where.” He shook his head, “Can’t believe after all this time we’ve gotten another chance and I messed it all up!”

  “…”

  The younger man noticed Shakar’s silence and shriveled back. “Look I know you don’t like us and this probably ain’t helpin’ our case—”

  “On the contrary,” he interjected, “I wouldn’t worry if I were you.”

  Snap looked up. “Huh? Nah you just trying to make me feel better.”

  “Well you’re still hearing me out, are you?”

  “…I guess so.”

  “Listen, you can either talk to him or continue to let your mind fool you. I understand you may be embarrassed but you’ve only just met him. I’m sure he’ll understand you were trying to help.”

  “But I don’t think he’s ever gonna trust me again,” Snap said. “For all I know he’s gonna be peaking over his shoulder when I’m around.”

  “Oh Xole is very trusting,” Shakar lied. “But if you’d really like to make things right I suggest you find him as soon as possible. Last I checked, he’s seems quite eager to train again.”

  “Huh? What’s wrong with him?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’m sure he’ll be overjoyed to have you as a training partner again. I’d say really try to get to know him.”

  Snap looked down, contemplating. Shakar could only watch for about half a minute before deciding to leave. Then he heard him call out.

  “Hey!”

  Shakar took a large breath and around. “Yes?”

  “Thank ya. Ya really not as bad of a guy the others make ya out to be.”

  “…Yes,” Shakar said, waving him off. “And let me know how those sessions between you two go, alright?”

  He pumped his thumb up, “Will do!”

  ‘That should make things a little easier for now,’ Shakar thought. He now stood in line for the phone booth, which coiled around the entire Zone—twice. Up ahead, two men and a woman guarded the booth from the occasion person who’d try to sneak ahead or drop everything and make a mad dash. However, that wasn’t what bothered him.

  ‘That face,’ he thought, thinking back to his talk with Snap, ‘he’s still just a child after all.’ The line moved, bringing him to the font, however, upon seeing the phone booth again, he hesitated. ‘Perhaps I have been a bit callous. These Groundhogs, Xole, as much as I’d hate to admit it they seem to be the only ones capable of picking up where my skills falter. Even Mr. Holdover seems to know it.’

  He felt his gaze daze up. His nostrils filled with the familiar scent of the fresh baked raisin bread from earlier.

  ‘If miracles did exist, would it really be in this place?’

  ‘BEEEEEEEEEEEP!’

  Both booths immediately turned black—along with the rest of the Zone, sending people into a brief uproar. Shakar looked around, so dark he couldn’t see his hand in front of his fac. He then immediately felt people push against him as they clamored about, tripping and falling, a few even falling him, to which he had to shove them off and retreat from the line. He felt his boot step on some’s back, who made a weird noise. Just then, a woman’s voice bellowed over what sounded like bullhorn.

  “ALRIGHTY FOLKS! CODE BETA SO YOU KNOW EXCATLY WHAT THAT MEANS. GET BACK YOU ASS BACK TO YOUR ZONE FOR A HEAD COUNT. PREPARE TO BE ESCORTED AND DON’T MOVE!”

  ‘Code Beta? So judging by that response, this must’ve been intentional—’ Shakar thought quickly before ducking the blinding beam of a flashlight. He saw softer orange hues of candles ignite behind him as the workers in vests came in carrying them. They closed in, corralling the group tight and quickly scanning over everyone in line before taking them towards the zone exit.

  Everyone but Shakar.

  Throughout the marketplace people shut their stands and stuffed anything loose in sacks or their pockets as they hurried off to left or right entrances to Zones 1 and 3, shouting amongst each other mixed with the sounds of children and barking.

  “C’mon, c’mon now!” the vested man yelled holding a yellow and orange light in each of his hands motioning to each Zone. “It it’s too large leave it and retrieve it from lost and found tomorrow! Anyone left behind will face severe consequences so no lollygagging!”

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  His words were followed by a series of complaints and the sounds off clattering as a mass of lights hurried towards the zones, taking the lights to the exits with them. Just then, Trix and Spit-Take’s bodies appeared at the center booth in a stutter, making the vested man stumble backwards. He looked up in awe.

  “Y-you’re—?!”

  “Yeah, yeah, we’re awesome,” Spit-Take replied standing besides Trix, who had her arms folded. The hunched man looked around. “Place cleared out pretty quick. Good job kid.”

  He giggled. “Gee, thanks—!”

  “Return to your zone as well, Daltoon,” Trix hissed, “You’ve done enough for a civilian. Allow yourself the night’s rest.”

  The vested man scrambled to his feet and gave a salute before running off to the left. Spit-Take watched. “You know, you don’t gotta be all pedal to the metal all the time, Trixie.”

  The woman removed her mask, her voice returning to normal. “Oh, I know Melmar—”

  “He winced, quickly checking his shoulders. “Can you please not—?”

  “But we can’t afford to drop our guard. You know the last time we got a Code Beta…”

  “Yeesh, don’t remind me, I get it,” The man sighed, hopping atop a booth and shining his flashlight around. He relaxed his shoulders, taking a few deep breaths from his stomach.

  “Trix, feel anything?”

  “No…” she replied, her eyes closed, “Zone 2’s clear…for now.”

  “Head count in three, I know.”

  “…”

  “Something on ya mind?”

  “It’s just…I’m worried about Snap. He seemed so down after training.”

  “Trixie, he’s eighteen now. I’m pretty sure he’d be embarrassed if he knew we’re doting over him like he’s still that snot nosed kid.”

  “Still, what if it’s something worse? What if he’s super sick?”

  The hunched man chuckled. “Pretty sure the kid’ll be back before you know it. I saw him on his way back to Zone 1H. He seemed a whole lot more cheerful then than before when I talked to him.”

  “Oh? Why’s that?”

  “Said he talked to that kufi guy we let in along with the other two. Claimed his words were like medicine, cured him right up.”

  Trix let a quick giggle escape her mouth. “He’s still so young.”

  “Yeah, I felt the exact same way.” he replied and looked around, “Anyways, we should hurry up. We don’t wanna keep our special guest waiting much longer.”

  The woman’s eyes shined with glee and the two stuttered again, vanishing upwards. From one of the higher walkways above, Shakar laid on his back, his body tensed from every muscle, refusing to let even a single breath leave until he felt the ripple of Inner-Gi dissipate from his skin. He slowly rolled to his stomach, adjusting his glasses, then to a crouch.

  ‘That,’ he thought, ‘was odd.’

  He kept his focus on them, feeling their Gi slip further and further until he could barely trace them. Slowly, he started to follow, using a small match he kept a hand cupped around, ready to blow out at a moment’s notice.

  He used the stairs until he was forced to vault with his stick, making his way higher and higher until he reached the highest level walkway; a pitch-black platform directly across from Prime Hill. He heard the two’s footsteps enter into the nearby unlit hall to his left, moving through briskly. Keeping to the wall outside, Shakar’s already slowed breathing came to a near halt once more in order to put his entire focus on the hallway—

  ‘BAROOOOOM!’

  The sudden boom rumbled, nearly making him jump. It had to have been something—very massive—being moved.

  ‘That is far too big to be a normal door,’ he thought, ‘and by the sound of it, it was aged. Now that I think about it I don’t think I’ve seen anyone up here. It’s possible—’

  “ARRGHH—”

  Shakar’s head snapped in alarm. That brief scream was enough to send him running into the hall to where he heard the rumbling. Using his match to guide him untul he could find the door.

  But there was only wall.

  . His stomach started feeling nauseas. He turned and dashed out as fast as he could, making a beeline back to Zone 3H. ‘Impossible! Nothing was there! Where did the two go? Is this some sort of trap and they knew I was following? And what was that scream? It didn’t sound like one of them. Was that the reason for this ‘Code Beta?’

  Slipping back to the large area that was Zone 3H, Shakar hopped into sleeping bag just in time to see Salamander, Patchwork, the rain coated woman, and the two other men come in with flashlights. They counted and took notes.

  “Whelp that’s everyone,” the woman said.

  Patchwork’s voice groaned, “Alright. Tell Abbas the head counts done and I’ll round up to check our surface entrances.”

  “Need me ta come wit ya?” Salamander’s voice rasped, “I’d feel bad if ya started shriekin’ since this is the longest I’d seen ya out of ya office.”

  “…I’ll be seeing myself out now. You guys do one last sweep”

  Shakar pulled his kufi over his face just as a beam of light hit his back before seeping over to the others, who were mostly sound asleep.

  ‘New objective,’ he thought, ‘discover them before they discover you.’

  ________________________________________________________________________

  The next morning, Shakar met up with Mr. Holdover in the tunnel a little past the train station. Mr. Holdover was grumbling to himself about the long walk when Shakar approached him.

  “Glad to see you’re up and early after that ‘code beta’ last night,” He said.

  Mr. Holdover glanced at him, “Oh, so that’s what they called it, yeah that shit was weird.” He looked back to the stretch ahead of him. “Forget which door we’re supposed to take.”

  “Oh, it’s the one at the very end on the right near the curb.”

  “Tch! Yeah, thanks...”

  The two made their way to the end of the hall. Shakar looked over his shoulder, then, back at Mr. Holdover. “So, how are you enjoying the Underground city of Haven so far?”

  “Meh,”

  “Excuse me?”

  Mr. Holdover sighed as the two began the long trudge up the spiraling flight of stairs. “It’s a place. That’s about it.”

  “And here I was under the impression you’ve always wanted to visit this city. Like a young boy witnessing his first amusement park.”

  “Don’t compare me to some damn kid. I feel like doing business here’s gonna be harder than I thought, that’s all.”

  “Perhaps because this place is anti-establishment?”

  He threw his arms up. “Well, then why the hell hire us in the first place?”

  “Because they…clearly need something?”

  “Eh?” The older man put his palm to his ear, “I didn’t catch that.”

  Shakar looked at him as they walked. “Your point is they’re using us, isn’t it?”

  “Exactly!”

  “To which I’d say, isn’t that the nature of all businesses? Two entities using each other to their hearts content so they both get fat and rich?”

  “And that’s the thing with these guys. They play for keeps.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means we can’t expect a normal deal outta them.” He glanced over his shoulder at him. “And no, this isn’t about last night before you ask.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “…Fine, maybe it’s a little about last night but I’m on to those guys, especially that fat-ass and his obsession with the boy! Something’s off with him.”

  Shakar nodded. ‘He gets something I don’t.’

  Mr. Holdover looked ahead again. “What about you?”

  “I’ve been…more or less conflicted,” He replied.

  “Huh, weird,” Mr. Holdover said, “Someone as cocky as you hesitating.”

  The younger man quickly cleared his throat and straightened up. “It’s what I said earlier, this place is anti-corporate, anti-big profit, it essentially rejects the harm money can do to a society.”

  Mr. Holdover could feel his legs beginning to bother him, “What’s the catch though?”

  “I’d imagine something far more sinister.” he replied sarcastically. He leaned his head forward. “Is that what you’re getting at? Another diabolical conspiracy? Does it make you want to leave?”

  His shoulders tensed, “What did I tell you about that fake ass mind reading shit?” shaking his head, he looked ahead to the exit; a trapdoor overhead. “All I’m saying is I’m not ready to leave this place yet, but I’m not in a hurry to drop everything and call it home either.”

  “Then what are you saying?” Shakar smiled

  “…Impatient little prick—what I’m saying is what I said! Take it however you want.”

  “Well what about Xole? What about what he wants?”

  Mr. Holdover took the handle, letting out a sigh of relief. “Sometimes kids don’t know what they really want. That’s why they’re still kids.”

  “Perhaps it’d help if you spoke with him. There’s still much we don’t know.”

  “I already did.”

  “That was yesterday.”

  He turned to him. “Ok, then what do you want me to do? Turn around go all the way back and have a heart to heart?”

  “Well better you than them if we’re going based on your conjecture.”

  The man snickered, shaking his head. “If you wanna conjecture so much, why don’t you talk to him?”

  Shakar blinked. ‘I could wrap my hand around his vocabulary.’

  “The kid’s got a half decent head on his shoulders,” Mr. Holdover said pushing the door open, “I’ll trust him with this for now. Besides, the big guy says he’s still resting and we’ve got work to do.”

  The two stepped into a dark room with streams of light peeking through the windows, which were boarded up. The damp inside housed an old sewage-like stench and filled with rows of old and splintered benches all facing a toppled podium at the front. Rats scurried away at the sight of the two.

  Shakar creased his brow. “Is this a…?”

  “Yep,” Mr. Holdover answered, “We’re in a church. Or at least what’s left of one.”

  Shakar looked at on old book sitting backside-up on a bench near him. The back was worn and torn while the pages on the side were yellow on the little light that touched them. He looked to Mr. Holdover again, “I was under the impression religion was allowed with the consent of the government?”

  “That’s if churches can trick their followers into believing their pro White Collar bullshit,” Mr. Holdover spoke, eyeing a moldy book. Shakar picked it up, casing a mess of receipts used as book marks to fall out. He skimmed through the yellowed pages. His brow creased.

  “So where’s the door again?”