288 Arrival
âPlease, sit down, before things come harder for you,â the hazmat suit man said. âSelf-control is clearly nonexistent in your set of manners.â
Hans gave a real dirty look at the man, but he didnât open his mouth, probably afraid he was going to get clocked by a bullet.
Fear raced through my veins as Hans began walking towards our seat. His footsteps were the only producers of sound besides the moving bus.
He came towards me, and returned to his seat, before everyone began to retreat back to their respective spots, although someone came to treat the man in the vest.
âWeâll be arriving at Ravenâs Gorge very soon. Try to enjoy your stay as much as you can,â the driver announced. I gulped, unsure of what to do. We lost the briefcases, meaning that the TSA finally might have them.
That means, I probably failed. No. No. I didnât fail, what weâre going to do is that weâre going to get out of this place as fast as we can and find Brie and the suitcase.
But, thatâs when a horrifying thought entered my brain, which I immediately wished it didnât.
âHans,â I said. Hans didnât answer, as if he was lost in his fears, which I was probably not wrong. I sighed. âIf the briefcases were to be taken by the TSA, wouldnât that mean that Jamie was too?â
Hans sighed. âDidnât come across that?â
.....
âNo. I guess I was just in a rush of things,â I said. âYou obviously know that.â
âOf course I do,â he said, laying his head back against the chair. âI canât say that I sometimes donât think of things whenever a certain situation happens. Iâm literally a junior agent in the Enterprise. We basically are training to fight against extraterrestrial things. In certain missions or training classes, adrenaline shifts your entire mode of thinking. It happens. But staying calm is what always helps. You know that.â
âWell, Iâve heard of that,â I said. âI have.â
âSo, use it,â he said. âBut staying calm isnât always easy, as you could clearly see there.â He threw his hand towards the site of the commotion before he slumped it back down.
I nodded, unsure of what to even do but to even stare at the chair in front of me. Eventually, the driver announced, âAnd welcome to Ravenâs Gorge!â
Everyone looked outside their windows, as rows of dark lean buildings hiding under the dark shadows passed by us. The sky was this dark, ominous blue, and the water drizzled by the streets looked more runnier than ever.
A few people rode through the streets. Some were in these weird cars that looked older than a Jeep Cherokee from the 90âs.
Some passed by in bikes, which they were dressed as those boys who gave out newspapers everyday back in the olden days. The buildings looked as if they were saloons. The people dressed as if they were the 19th century.
âWhat happened to these people?â I muttered. Then, I rose my head up, seeing a tall pole holding a wooden sign that wrote:
Ravens Gorge: Welcome to Your Worst Nightmare
Things were already a nightmare by the looks of it. The bus turned to the left, where it was more of a mugging center than a street. Block after block, people were dragging people to the ground, kicking them in their ribs, and snatching their money right from them.
In fact, there were two men, beating up a woman down to the ground, as one guy pinned his neck against her chest. A boy beside her, who was probably her son, was crying.
It was hard to even see the tears, but his face was showing more signs of despair than this village itself. Cars raced past the street, as if dodging the muggers.
âWhat happened to this place?â I asked, shocked and nauseous of the twisted society inhabiting this city. âAbandonment,â someone said, which made me veer my head back towards the voice. It was Hazmat. âNo one knows about us, and if no one knows about us, who can deal with the crime? The police only serve the rich.â
âThereâs rich?â Hans asked, staring out the window.
âYes, not too far in fact. They have bigger, stable homes, and they pretty much own the police. They tend to care about each other more than the residents making them the money,â Hazmat explained.
âWow, thereâs jobs?â I asked.
âHow else do you think anyone makes money? You see, in the government of Ravenâs Gorge, they send out certain people. Reelers. They steal money from places so that they can make the balance of money work throughout the city. Bit by bit, weâre making ourselves known to the world.â
âBy kidnapping people and stealing money?â I asked. Hazmat nodded. âYou do what you gotta do. But, we like to let people out every now and then.â
âWhy, if youâre trying to let people know about this rotting village?â I asked.
âSo they can report to people about a village they got lost in, which then increases our marketability,â the man explained. âAs I said, little by little.â
âLittle by little,â I muttered to myself, looking at the towering buildings, who in return looked down at our bus and sneered.
The bus turned onto another road, which was closed in by small buildings and businesses along the way. Then, the bus stopped. âWeâre here,â he said. âIf any new people enter this bus, you are free to explore. We take all kinds of money. Pesos, pounds, dollars, you name it.â
âBut whatâs the normal currency?â someone asked, which sounded like a woman who was maybe twenty-five or older.
The man chuckled. âWe live in America. Just keep that in your head.â
The doors opened as everyone slowly began to exit the bus. I slowly rose to my feet, as Hans followed. âOkay, what do we do now?â I asked, taking a few deep breaths.
âStay here, maybe we wonât notice us,â I said. I looked back, seeing a blond-haired woman in a white jacket, with a black dress and some gold-colored high heels. She seemed too proper to have been here before.
âMaâam,â the driver said, turning his head. âYou gotta go.â The woman shook her head, as the light exposed the sweat of fear dripping down her forehead.
âNo, I want to go back home, I only wanted a ride.â
âAnd a ride you got. Get out!â he shouted. She shook her head, as her face scrunched up, and she began to cry.
âNo, please! Just take me back home, Iâll do whatever, please! Just take me home!â she cried. All of a sudden, the driver rose from his seat, holding what seemed to be a stick.
But then, the stick produced an electrifying sight, as little zaps of electricity hovered around the top of the black stick.
âIf youâre not going to move, then Iâll have to move you somehow,â he said. A thwack followed the threat, and the zapping sounds of electricity buzzed for a moment. A sizzling sound followed, but in a silent volume.
He turned around, and laid his eyes on us. âYou better get moving,â he said, pointing his stick towards the door. âNothing to see here.â
I opened my mouth, but no words were given as a result. I got up from my seat, and nodded, heading out the door to which Hans followed me.
We exited the bus, as it drove away into the fog, leaving us and a few people on the sidewalks. âI want to get out of here,â I wheezed. Whimpers followed afterwards, as I held myself to not let any tears out.
But it was difficult.
âListen, we just need to find the way out of here. But for now, we need to find a place to hide or stay, and then we can get out of here the next day,â Hans said.
âI hope so,â I said. Hans sighed. âCome on, letâs go.â He walked forward, which I inevitably followed. We went over the corner, into what seemed to be the dead middle of the city. Buildings rose high and might in the air, but only darkness was the color of these structures.
Cars passed by here and there, and civilians walked the streets, holding their childrenâs hands. They walked as if they were scared, or anticipating something to occur.
âWow, this place is pretty lively for some mysterious, crime-ridden town,â I said. Hans chuckled, but sighed, as if he was expecting something.
And he was not wrong either.
All of a sudden, three men darted out from the shadows, and began to surround us. They were wearing these lined gray jackets with buttoned up shirts. They looked like they were from the early 1900âs.
Then, another man showed up from the shadows. He wore a brown trilby hat, with a beige jacket with microscope diamonds patterned on his suit.
âYou guys look new here,â he said. He revealed what to be a six-bullet revolver. âAnd mesmerisingly fresh too.â