Project HALO

Chapter 21

"You are either free or not free."

― Malcolm X

The road narrows down in front of us and the smooth asphalt is exchanged with gravel and tiny bumps. The trees grow closer and thicker above us, shutting the sun out for a while. We drive down a small, steep path. After a sharp turn, the sun hits us again, and so does the sight of the ocean.

My mouth opens.

An ache I haven't felt in a while sprouts in my chest, its deep roots awakening from slumber. Something about the blue ocean and the green trees remind me of all the summers we spent at the family cabin. Of my grandparents. Of mom.

On one side of the car, the endless water plays in the sunlight, sparkling brighter than any glitter, and on the other side, there stands a large, old building. It looks deserted and anonymous, its once white walls worn into gray from saltwater and time. The windows are huge and sealed with frayed tree planks. The gaps between the planks reflect the sun so radiantly one could think the building itself contained a burning star. On the contrary, it'll probably resemble a horror mansion when colored by the shadow of night.

There are three cars parked outside, exactly the same model as the one we're in. Maybe Phantom somehow is sponsored by an SUV company or something. Maybe they hacked themselves to the cars... Or maybe they downloaded them? The Internet is a strange place, so who knows.

"Welcome home," Frank says after parking, and stretches his arms upward, making a tiny squeaky noise. He looks back at us, his bandana now pulled away from his face. He has a piercing on the right side of his lower lip and another one in his left nostril. His wide, white smile greets us. "It was my pleasure to be your chauffeur."

I find myself trying to smile back before I realize what I'm doing. I didn't realize Stockholm syndrome worked that efficiently. He's just cute, I guess. And Mikey's friend. I have to be a tiny bit nice.

"There was no pleasure in that," I mutter and exit the car before he can reply.

Outside, I taste the tang of the ocean in the fresh air. I close my eyes and inhale, wishing I could stay in the sun forever, embraced by its hugging rays and the salty breeze drifting deep down into my lungs.

Sadly, Frank's voice interrupts the bliss.

He steps out next to me and slaps a hand on my shoulder. "Let's give you boys a tour, yeah?"

My answer is to shrug his hand away.

"Frank, no. We need to fix them up first," I hear from the other side of the car, followed by a door slamming shut. Will and Mikey come around the corner and we walk over to the building. Mikey slows down his pace so Frank and Will end up a couple of steps in front of us.

"What's wrong?" I ask when he slows down even further, but he only shakes his head.

"Do you—" Mikey whispers and leans closer. "Do you have the key?" His voice is so low I can barely hear him, but I still shush him.

"Don't talk about that," I hiss. "Just don't. Not now. But yes, I do. And don't tell anyone."

"Of course not."

I expect more remarks from him, but he remains quiet, dragging his feet along with him. His shoulders are slumped forward and he looks pallid.

"How is your head? And your arms?" I ask, trying to shift the conversation. His silence might be because he is tired, but it might also be because he is scared.