D. MacHale - Raven Rise

“Looks like a protest,” Mark guessed.

“Looks more like an angry mob,” Courtney corrected.

It was a raucous crowd, carrying signs that read, we’re all created equal, truth will prevail, andwe the people. They were waving their fists in the air and chanting a phrase over and over again.

Mark said, “Sounds like they’re saying ‘Stop them here.’”

Courtney listened and replied, “I hope they’re not talking about us. Those people look pissed.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Mark said, pointing.

He was looking at several people who were carrying signs with the green star symbol. Each star was surrounded by a red circle with a line slashed diagonally through the center. It was the classic symbol that meant no.

“I guess not everybody is part of the star cult,” Mark observed. “Look at that guy.”

He pointed to a man who stood on a ladder so he could be seen by the crowd. He was a dark-skinned guy, possibly of Asian Indian background. He wore a dark suit with a blue bow tie, looking very official next to the people who swirled around him. He held up a bullhorn through which he chanted, “Stop them here! Stop them here!” while punching his fist angrily toward the sky. The crowd responded, waving their signs and punching right along with him.

“He looks more pissed than anybody,” Courtney commented. “He’s got them pretty worked up.”

The limo slowed and was instantly rushed by a group of people that started to rock it.

“Whoa!” Courtney yelled. “You sure they’re not after us?”

“Maybe they think we’re part of it.”

“Great,” Courtney said sarcastically. “We’re being attacked for something we don’t know anything about.”

The limo lurched forward. There were a few thumps, making the car jolt.

“Did we just hit somebody?” Mark asked, aghast.

They looked out the back window to see three people lying on the road, hurt.

“Are you crazy!” Courtney yelled at the driver while slamming on the glass.

“No wonder they don’t like us,” Mark said soberly.

The car took an abrupt right turn, throwing Mark and Courtney into each other. It quickly descended into an underground garage. The two looked out the back window again to see a group of security people quickly closing a metal fence behind them. Protesters rushed the fence and pounded on it, still chanting, “Stop them here! Stop them here!”

“What the hell?” was all Courtney could say.

The limo sped through the underground parking structure, taking a few quick turns with its wheels squealing on the cement. It suddenly screeched to a stop next to a group of people who seemed to be waiting for them.

“Uh-oh,” Mark uttered.

There were five people. Four of them wore the same dark red clothes and short-brimmed caps that were worn by the men who attacked them at Courtney’s house. They stood there expressionless. The fifth person looked nothing like the others. He was a man who looked to be in his thirties. He was exceptionally clean cut, with short blond hair and a big, inviting smile. He wore a short-sleeved dark red polo shirt and black pants. In one hand was a clipboard, which made him look official. With his other hand, he waved warmly to Mark and Courtney, who peered out from the backseat.

“Who’s the dork?” Courtney asked. “Looks like he’s getting ready to play golf.”

“At least he’s smiling.”

The car doors automatically unlocked with a loud click. The smiley guy leaned down and opened the rear door, making a big, sweeping gesture of welcome.

“Hello! You are right on time!” the man said with enthusiasm. “Mark and Courtney, right?”

Mark and Courtney looked at each other in surprise. They didn’t move. Or speak.

“Welcome!” the man added.

“Welcome?” Mark echoed. “You kidnapped us.”

“Oh, that,” the man said, scoffing. “We were afraid you wouldn’t make it in time. That’s all. But you have! Sorry for the inconvenience.”

Courtney erupted. “You broke into my family’s house and gassed us. You call that an inconvenience?”

The young man looked at Courtney, still holding the smile. “Yes.”

“Oh. Just checking.” Courtney banged on the glass separator again and shouted to the driver, “Keep moving!”

The young man reached out his hand in a welcoming gesture. “Please,” he said warmly. “Join me.”

The two didn’t have a choice. In spite of the friendly welcome, the sober-looking guys who stared them down made that pretty clear. Mark got out. Courtney followed.

“That’s better!” the man with the big smile exclaimed. He held out his hand to shake. “My name is Eugene. I’ll be your escort.”

Mark didn’t take it. Neither did Courtney. Eugene took his hand back, but didn’t drop his smile. He didn’t seem bothered by the snub. “All right then. Let’s not dawdle. Wouldn’t want to miss anything.”

He hurried off past the other four men. Mark and Courtney didn’t move. Eugene turned back and gave them a big, overstated frown. “Are we still upset?”

Courtney answered sarcastically. “You’re kidding, right?”

Eugene opened his arms in a welcoming gesture. “Let me make it up to you. Come! I promise you’re going to see something spectacular.”

“What if we don’t want to go with you?” Courtney asked.

“Then you’ll be missing out on what could be the most important moment of your lives” was Eugene’s answer. “And these gentlemen would really like you to join me.”

The four goons stared at Mark and Courtney, still with no expression.

Courtney looked at Mark and shrugged. Mark nodded. Courtney turned to Eugene and said, “Does this have anything to do with golf?”

Eugene gave her a puzzled look.

Courtney started walking. “Never mind. Let’s go.”

Mark followed Courtney and the whole group was on their way. They followed Eugene across the underground garage and through a steel door that led into a long, narrow corridor of painted cinderblock walls.

“I hope those rude people outside didn’t bother you,” Eugene said. “They just don’t understand.”

“Understand what?” Mark asked.

“They don’t understand that it’s not their fault. People must accept the fate they’ve been given. Jealousy won’t change that; it only makes them more upset.”

Mark and Courtney exchanged looks.

Eugene stopped short and turned to them. “You understand that, I’m sure.”

Courtney answered, “I don’t understand a word of it.”

Eugene gave her a simple, happy smile. “You will.”

He led them into an elevator. When Mark and Courtney entered and turned around, they saw the door close before the other four boarded.

“There will be other security men when we reach our floor,” Eugene cautioned, as if reading their minds.

The elevator rose a few floors, then opened onto a corridor that was much more plush than the first. It had thick carpeting and large black-and-white photos spaced along both walls. Every twenty feet or so was a closed door with a number next to it.

“This way,” Eugene said, and hurried out.

The two followed, looking at the photos. They were enlargements from all different eras. Mark recognized some of them. There was a shot of Muhammad Ali in the ring against Joe Frazier; circus elephants performing in the center ring; and concert shots from such stars as the Rolling Stones, Madonna, and even Justin Timberlake. Courtney focused more on the sports action shots from many eras that featured the New York Knicks and Rangers.

“I know where we are,” Courtney said softly to Mark.

“Me too,” Mark answered. “I guess we shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Of course not!” Eugene said happily. “You are exactly where you should be!” He stopped at one door and knocked. A moment later the door was opened from inside by another of the security people.