In Which I Ruin Everything

It started, as many disasters do, with a misunderstanding.

Brandon had been away a lot, and when he was around, he was completely preoccupied with prepping for the inquiry. I was having trouble with my computer; my connection was unstable, and I couldn’t seem to upload anything to the Overworld network. In retrospect, none of this was an emergency. But it felt urgent, or maybe I was just impatient, or both. Rather than bother him, I decided to try using the computer in his study to connect. I reasoned that perhaps it was just my machine and that there would be no harm in trying another link. It seemed like a good idea until the warnings started flashing across the screen.

I didn’t intend to wipe his machine. As I sat staring at the reset timer slowly ticking down to zero, I realized I had really screwed up. Was all his research on that computer? The presentation he’d been working long, painstaking hours on definitely was. My stomach sank all the way to my toes. Brandon had been so kind, taking me in when I was obviously lost and in trouble. I wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for him. And how do I repay him? With a careless and tragic mistake. I couldn’t think over the incessant, repetitive thought that I’d messed up. I’d messed it all up.

It was late, and I wasn’t thinking straight. It’s not an excuse, but maybe a bit of an explanation for what I did next. In my addled state, I decided that the only solution was to flee. I would suit up, get on the train out of the underground, and send my meddlesome, computer-crashing, emotionally taxing, bumbling human self back up where I belong. I scribbled a quick apology note and left Brandon’s study with one last guilty look.

I didn’t run into Kelly that night. If I had, things might have turned out differently. I hastily packed up my things and slipped into my animal suit. It was after midnight, and the streets would hopefully be empty enough for the worn disguise to get me where I needed to go. Silly reasoning, but my planning brain was being smothered by my emotional, anxious brain. I took one last look at the lab and closed the door on what I thought would be my last opportunity to understand this world and its challenges.

It turns out I don’t know my way around the city at all. I thought I knew where the train station was, but I kept circling block after block without seeing any signs. I was too nervous to ask for directions, even after realizing I couldn’t retrace my steps to the lab. Surely, if I just kept going, I would find something. How big could the city be? It was approximately six blocks later that I realized I was being followed.

I tried to tell myself that I was being paranoid, that the two trench-coated animals were just out for a midnight stroll, like me. I started making random turns into alleys and down streets; my objective completely drowned in my need to escape pursuit. Another six blocks, and I was sure they were following me. I was lost in the middle of the underground city of Denhaven, with no map, clearly no common sense, and a shoddy animal costume. So, I did the only thing my scared brain could think of: I ducked into an all-night café and hoped they would pass me by.

The smell of paper napkins and frying oil met me at the door. Despite the familiarity, I have never been so nervous. How long since I’d been in a restaurant? I couldn’t even begin to put a number on it. The fox behind the counter waved me to a table in the back, and I gladly tucked myself into the dimly lit booth. Then, another thought occurred to me. How was I going to pay? The likelihood that they would accept American Express down here seemed slim to none. I searched through my pack for my wallet and finally found it all the way at the bottom of a side pocket. I stared at the assortment of plastic cards in their little slots as if it had been a lifetime since I’d seen such a thing.

“What can I get you, hon?”

I almost jumped out of my animal suit, dumping half my backpack on the floor. The fox was at the end of my booth, an order pad in one hand and a pencil stub in the other. She looked like she’d seen enough shenanigans to last her entire lifetime.

“I’m sorry,” I stumbled, trying to contain my escaping belongings. “Do you, do you have a menu?”

She squinted at me, cocked her head, and pointed to the menu board over the counter with her pencil stub.

“I’ll give you a few minutes,” she said, her eyes lingering on the mess I’d made of my things.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, trapping a tube of ChapStick before it rolled off the seat. “I’m sorry.”

But she had already walked away. I could only hope I wasn’t the strangest thing she’d seen that night. The bell over the door merrily announced new patrons. I looked up just in time to see the two trench coats stroll through the door and look around. My mind flipped to an article I’d read that morning over breakfast about Chaos goons targeting merchants in the city. I slouched into the corner of the booth and waited for them to notice me, sparing a wish for a real menu to hide behind.

They sidled inside and chatted with the fox, trading jovialities. Did she look nervous? I think she did. Eventually, they tossed something on the counter and strolled out without looking back. The fox looked over at me as soon as they left, her brow creased. She glanced out the door, then walked over to my table, all service smiles washed away.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said, tapping the table with one manicured claw. “I’m not sure what kind of trouble you’re in,” she paused and looked back out the front window. “But I don’t want any of it here. You need to leave.”

I nodded, shoving the rest of the mess into my pack. As I bumbled past the counter, I had what might have been my clearest thought of the evening.

“Which way is the train station?” I asked, sweating under my costume head.

She looked at me for so long that I thought she might not answer.

“Four blocks that way,” she pointed without elaborating.

I mumbled more vague apologies as I stumbled into the street, my mind as jumbled as my belongings. I glanced back through the window. She was standing with one hand on her hip, watching me. As soon as she saw me looking, she pointed emphatically at the street, and I apologized again, even though she couldn’t hear me.

I just needed to get to the train. I stopped looking for the goons following me and focused on counting blocks and avoiding streetlights. A sense of calm crept over me when I finally saw signs pointing to the train station. Maybe this was going to work after all. I started down the stairs, the unmistakable smell of oiled rails wafting over me. As soon as I reached the bottom, I realized my folly. How was I going to buy a train ticket?

There were too many animals, and I was drawing some strange looks. I shuffled to a bench in the corner and tried to rethink my strategy. I was just turning over the odds of getting thrown off the train if I boarded without a ticket and pretended to be asleep when the two trench-coated tails stepped onto the platform. A notable hush fell over the waiting passengers, broken only by the whisking sound of tracks as the train approached. I would have to make a break for it. When that train left, I’d be on it.

I stood and moved closer to the tracks, trying to blend into the animals around me. I chanced a glance at the trench coats and met eyes with the shorter one. He nudged his partner and gestured toward me. I could feel the wind of the train as it slid into view and rolled to a stop. They were coming toward me now, smiling in a way that set my teeth on edge. I pushed through the doors as soon as they opened and started making my way to the back. They were still behind me, the crowd shrinking away from them as they pushed through the train. This was a dead end. I had just decided to get back off the train when my suit was grabbed from behind, and the choice was made for me.

The trench coats pushed me roughly onto the platform, their breath hot on my neck where the costume head was riding up. The eye holes were misaligned, and I could only see my feet as they pushed me forward. A commotion at the other end of the station drew their attention, and whistles echoed from somewhere. The hands holding my suit vanished, and my feet were swept out from under me. My knees hit the tiles with a painful jolt, and the costume head slipped further, becoming a de-facto blindfold. Sounds of running feet surrounded me, and more whistles, some kind of struggle, distant yelling. The last thing I heard was a growl and a loud thud.

“You don’t belong here,” a gruff voice said in my ear.

Before I could register anything, I was knocked backward. A supernova of stars exploded in my head, and everything faded to grey.

-JPS

I’ve exceeded my metered bandwidth. I’ll upload more as soon as I’m able.