Adam Drake - The First Day

Looking to his right he could see the dark outline of the river curving around a bend, the direction he must have come from. This was not a natural river, but one guided by the hand of man.

He peered up and found himself breathless at the sight of so many stars. The sky was stunningly clear.

Another memory tried to bubble up from the depths of his mind, but he forced it down. Enough of that.

He tried to stand up only to realize his hands were still bound behind his back. The cold water had frozen him so thoroughly, he couldn’t feel them anymore.

With a sluggish effort, he shook his head and blinked his eyes. Water soaked his beard. He had to get up, get moving. Sitting here will only complicate things, give his enemies time to catch up.

But who were they?

“Smarten up!” Wyatt said, his voice fighting to be heard over the river’s frothy roar. His eyes drooped. What was wrong with him?

He needed to stand up. Now.

Slipping one foot beneath his butt, he tried to stand. Half way to his goal he lost all balance and fell over on his side.

He coughed and wretched, water spraying from his mouth. He must have swallowed half the river.

For a few moments, he lay there, watching the river pass by. The sounds of its passage echoing loudly from the tunnel.

“Where’s the pick up?” he asked. He almost expected to hear a static filled answer in his ear, but none came.

An image of the security guard stalking up behind him made Wyatt suddenly roll over. This time he felt his arms and the plastic restrainers which cut into them. No guard was there. He was further up the river.

Wyatt looked up the concrete embankment which extended to a chain-link fence. Behind the fence was a dumpster, its rectangular form nearly blending into the night.

“Huh,” Wyatt said. “Maybe I’ll find some cans.” But he didn’t try to get up, again. In fact, he didn’t want to get up any more. He decided he’d done enough movement for one day. Why do more? What was it good for?

Today, he watched his friend die after trying for hours to find him help. What a waste.

He’d killed two people. Feral Kids, sure. But still people.

No, he thought. Not people, a start. Didn’t he say that to the security guard?

Wyatt realized that something was wrong with him. Really wrong. Not a passing phase or a late mid-life crisis or any of that nonsense. Something was rotten in Denmark.

Another memory tried to peek around the corner of his mind, but he swatted it away. None of that now.

He’d just rest here a while and watch the waters stream by.

Waters stream by. Ha-ha. Ethan would like that one.

As his eyes began to close, a light appeared. From his position on the ground, he titled his head back to look in the direction of the tunnel.

A light was in there, deep inside. Small, but bright against the eternal blackness.

As Wyatt watched, the light moved, bobbing and weaving in a little dance.

His mind was empty of thought, only the light mattered. Its approach was calming, soothing.

Soon the light breached the mouth of the tunnel and Wyatt saw that it was a man carrying a lantern.

The man paused and looked around, holding the lantern up in front of him.

Wyatt thought he recognized him.

“Ethan?” he said, unsure, and suddenly coughed up more water. When his spasm had passed, he discovered the man standing above him, smiling down.

“What’s up, ol’buddy?” Ethan said with a wide grin. “Took a spill into the drink, did you?”

Wyatt glared angrily up at him. “You know I did. It was your idea!”

“Was it? I dunno about that,” Ethan said. He bent over and helped Wyatt into a sitting position.

The movement made Wyatt dizzy. “Why did you slam that door?”

“What door?” Ethan asked. He settled down next to Wyatt and placed the lantern between them. It was an old kerosene lamp.

“You know what I mean. I was almost scott-free, but you had to go and ruin it.”

Ethan shook his head, an expression of pity on his face. “Wyatt, I didn’t slam any door.”

“Yeah, you did,” Wyatt said, and spit out some more river water. “I was following your little escape plan and then you went and made things…”

“What?”

“Complicated!”

Ethan chuckled. “Well, what happened in the past, stays in the past. Right? What matters is you’re here now. Safe.” He gave Wyatt a friendly nudge. “Don’t be angry. You know it doesn’t suit you.”

“Suits me just fine,” Wyatt said. He felt that syrupy feeling creeping up on him again. Threatening to make him talk funny. He tried to shake it away. “I’m a little messed up, Ethan.” The admission made him feel a little better. Less weight on his mind.

Ethan nodded. “I am well aware. But you’re going to be even more messed up if we don’t find a way to get those restraints off you. Can’t do your new job all trussed up like a Sunday ham.”

“Saving people?” Wyatt said.

His dead friend only shrugged. “Something like that. Like I said. I only have questions or answers, not both.” He pushed himself up to his feet and grabbed the lantern. “You coming?”

“Coming where?” Wyatt said, suspicious.

Ethan pointed to the tunnel. “In there, stupid.”

Wyatt arched a brow. “I don’t like the dark.”

“That’s what makes you perfect for your new job.”

“Why?”

“Because you will do all you can to find the light,” Ethan said, and motioned for Wyatt to stand. “Come on, get up. The future has already started and you’re going to miss out.”

That syrupy feeling edged over Wyatt’s shoulders, up his neck and across his scalp. “Yeah, maybe.” He tried to stand again using his legs, but couldn’t do it.

“Mind helping me out a little?” Wyatt said.

Ethan’s smile was wide and for the briefest of moments he looked just like Santa Claus. He stuck a hand under Wyatt’s arm. “No, Wyatt. I don’t mind one bit.”

Finally standing, Wyatt rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, trying to get the circulation back in his legs. It was damned cold out.

“Okay, now where?” Wyatt said, eyeing the tunnel.

“We go to the end of that,” Ethan said, nodding toward the opening. He starting guiding Wyatt forward.

“And what’s down in there?”

“Answers, maybe.”

“In a tunnel?”

Ethan laughed. “Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve reached the end.”

As they crossed over the entrance, Wyatt peered ahead with suspicion. “I’m not sure about this, Ethan.”

Ethan shrugged, the light from the lantern seemed to be absorbed into his white beard. “To be honest, I’m not sure about this, either.”

They walked further along, the river roiling in the dark beyond the edge of the lantern’s light.

Wyatt eyed Ethan then asked, “What sort of answers will I find down there?”

Ethan smiled and his teeth practically twinkled like the stars outside. “I think the first answer will be the most important and I believe we’ll find it soon it enough.”

“Wait,” Wyatt said with unabashed confusion. “What the hell is the question?”

“How do we begin to save the world?”

“Go ahead and dump those prawns out,” Nate said.

Martin grinned. “With pleasure.” He hefted the wheel-barrel and the plastic bags slid onto the ground in a pile.

“See,” Nate said with a smile. “Hauling that crap all the way here paid off, but not how you expected.”

“Yup,” Martin said. “I gotta be honest, this day hasn’t shaped up the way I thought it would.”

Both of them laughed.

The fire inside the bar was in full force, with flames consuming everything inside. Thick smoke billowed out from the doors.