The Birth of a Rebellion Page 2
Knowing full well his parents would kill him if they ever found out he was even this close to the explosion, Patrick didn’t dare go and help. Instead, the two decided to investigate the surrounding area, see what they could find out from everyone. There were small bits of conversation overheard, but none of it gave any real insight as to what happened.
“… an explosion…”
“Couldn’t get in, the doors were locked!”
“Looks like maybe a gas leak…”
“… hoping they all got out.”
“… sister was in there.”
“… manager was kicking everyone out…”
At this point, the police had arrived and started to rope off the area. They pushed the crowd back as the fire trucks came rushing through and the firefighters assembled to take over the search for survivors. Patrick tried to hang around and catch more bits, but knew it was time to leave. As news vans began pulling up, he knew it was only a matter of time until his parents called the house phone to check in on him. He told Mark he would catch up with him later, and ran back to grab his bike. Looking back, he saw Mark still in the crowd, fighting to get a closer look even as the Police began roping off a wider area. Patrick peddled home fast, eager to catch the evening news.
◆◆◆
As expected, Patrick’s mom called within seconds of him being home. He thought he was safe, but apparently both his parents had been trying to reach him desperately for what, according to Bonnie, had been hours. His mother had always been a big worrier, and with his brother overseas, she paid twice as much attention to Patrick. After reassuring her at least a dozen times that he was fine, definitely not telling her I was only a few stores away from the explosion, she told him she was leaving work shortly and wouldn’t be home for dinner. Patrick was ready to ask if he could go over to Mark’s for dinner but didn’t get the chance. He was shocked when his mother brought it up first. He was to take his emergency cell phone and head straight there, she would pick him up in about two hours on her way home. Without a question, he hung up the phone and jumped on his bike. Mark’s parents were never around, leaving the two boys free to their own devices.
Despite the events of the day, it was a peaceful evening. The sun was just setting, and a nice, cool breeze was gently swaying through the trees. It was the perfect night for a bike ride through the trails Mark and Patrick had made in the woods when they were much younger. That had been one of the best summers Patrick could remember. They both got horrible poison ivy and refused to tell their parents how. The trails had overgrown some in the past few years due to neglect, but as long as you knew where to look, they were easy enough to navigate.
Patrick was riding along enjoying the quiet and reliving the childhood memories when a dark blur came rushing through the woods and slammed into him. His bike flew out from under him, replaced by the blur as they both rolled to the ground with a loud thud. Patrick's heart began to race as he started kicking and pushing furiously to get away from whatever, or whoever, he was tangled up with.
“HEY! Knock it off!” the creature in the dark shouted in a gruff voice as it pushed Patrick away.
With a final push, Patrick stood up and extended his hand to help the stranger up. “Crap, I’m sorry! You really freaked me out there. Wasn’t sure what you were.”
Patrick's hand was ignored as the stranger stood up in the dark, his left arm hanging at his side in an unnatural manner. Patrick took a moment to focus and realized the person standing before him couldn’t have been any older than him. He had dark brown hair and cold, hard eyes. His clothes were dirty and torn beyond repair, but he was nonetheless dressed very well. He had on dark jeans and a button-down, long-sleeved shirt, with half the button undone and the rest lined up incorrectly.
“Yeah, yeah. It’s fine buddy. No worries. I should have been more careful.” He let out a sad chuckle, the whole-time avoiding eye contact, gaze shifting left and right sheepishly, as if he was embarrassed and wanted to make sure nobody else had seen the altercation.
Patrick stared in confusion, does he realize we’re in the middle of the woods?
Rather than express these thoughts, he said, “Well, I’m sorry all the same. You alright? You look like you’re pretty banged up.”
The boy glanced down, taking himself in, shifting slightly. “Just a couple scrapes and bruises. Nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing to worry about?” Patrick reiterated, eyes wide. Did I damage his brain too?! “Your arm looks like it has to be broken. Did I really hit you that hard?” He paused to look over the damage again, noting the pale expression of his face. “Look, why don’t I call someone and get you some help.”
“It's fine really, I got somewhere I have to be. Thanks for the offer but I got to go.” Patrick tried to protest, but the stranger ran off into the darkness of the woods before he could utter another word.
He stood in shocked silence, there is no way he’s okay. The way his arm was hanging, there was no doubt it was broken, or at least dislocated. The thought crossed his mind to try and chase after him, but knew he was already too far away. Patrick picked up his bike, defeated, realizing the front tire was bent completely out of shape. There was no way the bike would make it to Mark’s house and not raise a million questions from Bonnie. Instead, Patrick turned around to head home and sent a quick text to his Mom: ‘Decided to stay home. Heating up leftovers and watching the news. See you soon. Love you.’ Patrick hit send, a small pang of guilt hitting him as he hated lying to his parents.
He had enough of his own questions to answer without adding his mother into the mix. What was that kid doing out in the woods, how had he gotten so banged up, and why was he in such a hurry? They were questions that would have to wait, as Patrick hid his bike in the garage and went inside to do exactly what he told his mother he was planning to do.
◆◆◆
The blood was spilling out of him at this point, the world starting to fade away. But he knew he had to make it back to the base, had to inform his General of the explosion and the risks it posed to their operation. He was the only survivor, the only one who could warn them. He stumbled through the woods, tripping over upturned roots and crashing into several trees. He had just barely managed to make it to the secret entrance before collapsing in a heap. He lay there on the ground, knowing all they had accomplished, all their progress was at risk if he didn’t tell them about the grocery store.
With his one good arm, he pushed through the exhaustion to drag himself to the doorway. The topsoil gave way to his clawing, caking his fingers in dark mud. As he approached the doorway, he knew he didn’t have the strength to lift himself to the speaker and give the passcode, all he could hope was that someone was watching. He began to raise his arm repeatedly, letting the weight of it carry it back down to slam into the ground. Just when he felt the last remnants of hope slip from his grasp, he heard the gears turn and the door squeal open.
“Agent down, agent down!” the voices spilled back into the base, echoing down the corridors. “Get me a doctor, now!” He felt someone lift him off the ground, leaning him against the tree.
“Tell the General…” he was coughing up blood now. “Explosion at the store, operatives need replacing. Cover-up necessary.” With his message delivered, he stopped fighting. His body quickly took over and the world went dark.
◆◆◆
As days turned into weeks, Patrick had all but forgotten his altercation in the woods. It wasn’t until about three weeks later when he saw this mystery kid at school, looking perfectly healthy, that it all came rushing back to him. At first, Patrick thought his eyes were deceiving him. But sure enough, it was him, leaning against a locker surrounded by a small group. Patrick walked by slowly, noting there were no scrapes, bruises or visible scars. His arm wasn’t even immobile, instead, it was freely waved in the air as he animatedly told a story to those gathered around him.
Patrick didn’t know the guy, but his curiosity was piqued by the apparent la
ck of injury. He turned abruptly in the hall, making his way back over to the group. It wasn’t until he recognized one of the girls from his math class that he found his entry to the conversation.
“Hey Sasha, did you manage to get the math assignment written down? Think I wrote the wrong questions.”
“Sure.” She looked at Patrick, unsure if she knew him. “Give me a second.”
As she pulled her bag off her back and began rummaging for her math notebook, Patrick made eye contact with the stranger. “Hey, I know you from somewhere, don’t I?”
“Me?” He played if off incredibly well. “Don’t think we’ve ever met before. Name is Tom though.”
He held out his hand, which Patrick shook readily. Firm handshake for someone recovering from a broken arm.
“Tom, no I definitely recognize you from somewhere.” There was a pause, as Patrick pretended to think deeply about it, giving Tom time to come to his own conclusion. “Ahh! It was a few weeks ago, you were running through the woods!”
His eyes narrowed as he looked at Patrick closer. “No, I think you’ve got the wrong guy. I wasn’t anywhere near the woods.” He had a puzzled and slightly disgusted look on his face as he continued to stare Patrick down.
“You ran into me and my bike. It was pretty dark, but I’m sure it was you.” Patrick remained calm, disregarding the fact that he had been completely blown off.
“Must have been someone else,” he said flatly.
Patrick persisted, “No it was you. You looked really banged up and I tried to help you, but you ran off. It was the night of the gas explosion at the grocery store, you have to remember that!”
“Night of the explosion, huh?” suddenly something seemed to click in Toms mind.
“Yeah, in the woods. You sure you’re alright? That you didn’t hit your head?”
“You know what, that must be it!” he said as he theatrically bumped the palm of his hand on his forehead. “I did wake up the morning after that explosion feeling really sore and with a wicked headache. I had been close to the explosion, thought it was maybe that. But you must be right, the most logical reason it was hurting was that I hit my head in the woods. Thanks for clearing that up.” Tom punched Patrick lightly in the shoulder as he laughed in unison with those around him.
Patrick didn’t share the same enthusiasm for his sarcasm. “Well, at least now you know why,” he rebutted, lacing each word with heavy sarcasm. “Glad you’re doing alright.”
“Cool. See ya.” Tom pushed off the locker and headed down the hall.
“See you around.” Patrick turned on his heel and began on his way to physics class.
“Hey, what about the math assignment!” Sasha was waving her notebook in the air.
“Right, sorry I forgot about that.” Patrick made a show of copying down the assignment he didn’t really need and continued on to his next class. The whole way to class, his mind was stuck on how Tom’s gaze shifted as he was called out. It was similar to the way he had acted in the woods, as if he had been caught doing something he wasn’t meant to be doing.
It was very unlike Patrick, but he couldn’t focus in physics. He knew Tom was up to something in the woods, and he had a feeling it had to do with the gas leak that took out the grocery store. There were about ten minutes left in class when Patrick decided he was going to follow Tom around and figure out what he was up to. As soon as the bell rang, he took off for home to start setting up his plan.
◆◆◆
Summer was fast approaching, and with it the end of the school year. Patrick had done his due diligence, finding out Toms habits, figuring out where he lived, and who he hung out with. He noticed Tom frequenting the skate park after school, but never partook in the activity. Instead, he hung around a short while, then would head off to explore the town. There were a few stores he visited every day before heading home, appearing to never buy anything. This was nothing like Patrick's schedule, being one to rush home after school for more studying.
Over the past few weeks, however, he had slowly been modifying his own routine to match Tom’s. Now, when he hung out every day under the same tree near the skate park, there was no suspicion, he was expected. Patrick would mostly pretend to read as he watched Tom over the top of his book, waiting for him to make his exit. Then Patrick would take his time to pack up his items and follow at a good distance. Even though his routine had been cemented for at least a week now, his palms still sweat profusely, and his heart still raced.
Today was no different than any other, and Patrick was beginning to think he had wasted his time becoming oddly obsessed with this stranger. There was only so much curiosity in a person, and his was running out. Waking up that morning, he had already decided, if there were no answers by the end of the month, he was going to move on with his life; finish high school, work for the summer, go to college and find something more productive to spend his time on.
Tom had just arrived at a small antique shop on the corner of Foothills Drive and Main Street, his last stop before heading home. Patrick was sitting across the street, pretending to look at a chalkboard menu placed outside a coffee shop. This was about the time he would call it quits, as Tom would make his way up Foothills Drive to his home. However, today was different. Instead of his usual left turn out of the antique shop, he took a right towards the outskirts of town, and the woods.
This is it! With his interest piqued yet again, his mind began to race. What is in the woods that had him so frantic when he ran into me? What person has ‘someplace to be’ that deep in the woods? Why did he deny everything when confronted? All thoughts and questions pushed aside, Patrick continued to follow Tom, careful not to lose him through the thickening trees. It wasn’t a long walk, maybe fifteen minutes into the woods, but it felt like they were walking for an eternity. The sun was starting to set in the sky, and Patrick knew his Mom would be furious if he wasn’t home for dinner.
Praying the wild goose chase was worth his while, he urged Tom to reach his destination. But as they continued on, he knew he had to head home. Just as he was turning to leave Tom to his business, he stopped suddenly in a small clearing and remained motionless. The only thing moving was the whites of his eyes, searching as if he knew Patrick was hiding nearby. Another eternity of silence seemed to pass before Tom stepped forward to a large oak tree at the edge of the clearing and mumbled something to the bark. For a brief moment, there was the stillest silence as the world stood motionless. Then, with no warning, the ground began to shake. A large hole opened in the Earth beneath the tree. Heavy gears sprang to life beneath the surface, rushing to fill the silence.
Patrick stumbled back in surprise at the sight of the large tree now suspended in the air, hanging over a large, dark hole. As the dust in the area settled, it became clear that a set of stairs had been revealed, descending from the base of the tree deep into the ground. With one last look over his shoulder, Tom began to run down the stairs. As the top of his head disappeared beneath the ground, Patrick began to creep forward. His mind was no longer his own, curiosity had won over rationality. The creaking sound of the gears started up again, and without a second thought, Patrick jumped from the bushes and dove beneath the tree after Tom.
He hit the ground hard, the sound of his spine slamming into the floor as well as the cursing that followed were covered by the noise of the ground clanging shut, now above his head. It took Patrick a few moments to regain his composure, a silent fear creeping up that Tom had heard or seen him enter behind him. The scene replayed in Patrick’s head in disbelief. Moments earlier there had been a HUGE tree suspended in the air above his head, the ground beneath it split open to reveal a secret hideout. A secret hideout that Tom, a kid from school, just nonchalantly walked down into.
Now it appeared Patrick was stuck in the middle of this secret underground hideout; with the only entrance he knew of sealed above him. His mother had always told him it was his curiosity that would be his undoing. The scene played out in his head, his moth
er wagging her finger and gloating how she knew something like this was going to happen.
“Oh, Patrick. I just knew that one day your curiosity would land you in an underground secret tunnel. Trapped with no hope of escape!”
Pushing the thoughts of his prideful mother from his mind, he turned his attention towards his current predicament. He rationalized, there has to be another way out of here, who builds something this elaborate with only one entrance?
From the room that Patrick was sitting in, there were three options for moving forward. The large room around him reminded him of a small hanger, like the ones at the helicopter camp he had spent the past summer attending. To his right was a tunnel leading into darkness. There was a damp, earthy smell coming from the tunnel, and Patrick decided it was best to avoid this one. The tunnel to his left led to a small hallway that had several doors branching off. They were all marked in symbols he didn’t recognize, although it gave the impression of being a row of offices.
The final tunnel, directly in front of him, was the one he decided to take. It was well lit and did not seem to branch off. As he made his way down the tunnel, he was amazed to find that he was not only in a secret underground base, but an underground zoo of sorts. Lining the walls were cages and tanks, full of all types of animals. There were elephants, snakes, birds, and sharks. Patrick crept along slowly, wondering why there was a Noah’s Ark of animals in the middle of the woods, how nobody had discovered it before, and why a kid from school waltzed in like it was totally normal.
The tunnel continued on for some time, with seemingly unending animals in captivity. It was at the end of the tunnel, just before it took a sharp left turn, that Patrick stumbled upon the most shocking of discoveries. Beyond the glass walls of the final room lay two humans on metal tables. Patrick stood, dead in his tracks and in complete disbelief. As his mind attempted to accept this new reality, he realized he recognized one of the humans. It was his science teacher, Mr. Rev, lying there peacefully asleep on the table. Patrick did his best not to panic as he looked around the wall for any way to get into the room and reach the two humans. The glass wall blended seamlessly into the walls around it, gaps nonexistent, and no control panel of any sort.