Last War (34 page)

     “I’m certainly not messing with the elites. Sorry, sir
. I don’t know you guys, really. And I don’t know your intentions. This is nuts.”

     “You’ve got a choice. Either way, I’ll see you in the morning.”

     “Where?”

     “I said, ‘
I’ll
see you.’ You won’t be seeing us. Good night, sir. Give the Mrs. our best. Expect us.”

     The line went dead.



Vancouver, BC

6:23a.m.

     A six hour flight brought Czyra and Jason to Vancouver. With a duffle-bag in tote, Jason lead Czyra out into the rolling hills of the beautiful Canadian city. The irony to have to live on such a beautiful earth with such an imperfect species felt unfair. After leaving the airport, they reached a safe place to rest. Jason opened his all-black duffle-bag.

     “Jay, what are we going to do about getting into his car? What if he didn’t leave it unlocked?”

     Jason pulled out a half-dozen gadgets and placed them on the top of the medium height ledge beside the both of them.

     “I don’t expect him to open it. He’s a ‘patriot’; he’s more comfortable with disappointing us, than them. He feels if he’s going to go out, he’s going to do it honorably. We need that right now.”

     “But, why—“

     Jason scanned his body chip with Tameka’s memory card again. The sensation had become, sort of, a rush. All caution would go to the wind,
and it was like he was a new person. “Just follow.”

    
Jason tested all of the devices he pulled out the bag. He powered up each device quickly before powering them down; he flexed each tool, dissembling and reassembling them again. “Everything we need is right here in this duffle bag. No worries.” He said amidst the clicks and clacks of his tools.

     Jason pulled out two small boxes. He handed one to Czyra. Czyra opened his box to see contact lenses. When he looked back up to Jason, Jason was already dapping his
lens into his eyes.

     “Well, what are you waiting for? Put them on.” Jason said.

     “What will they do?”

     Jason put on his second lens without responding.

     “I can’t do it without a mirror, sir.”

     Jason tossed him a chrome gun. “Good?
It’s unloaded. No worries.”

     As Czyra slipped the lens on staring into the side of the shiny gun, his eyes struggled to adapt to the feel of the thick plastic rubbing against the back of his eyelids. “This is awkward.”
He said.

     “Put some of the liquid in there.” Jason said. “Only ever use that
particular liquid. Keep it with you. It’s crucial you do so.”

     They stood on a busy
overpass. Jason sat on the ledge blinking his eyes rapidly while looking over the edge at the cars on the highway whizzing out from underneath. Once both of their eyes settled in, Jason fiddled with a handheld device. “When we get in there, we’re going to have the full schematics of the building. We’re going to be able to see who’s in there and where. We need to find that room and the papers in under twenty minutes. We have to be in, and out. As soon as we get within ten miles of this place, we are going to be tracked.”

     “How will they know?” Czyra asked.

     “My bodychip is monitored. I can only go invisible for an hour.”

     “You’re monitored
?”

     “B
asically, they programmed me to set off alarms when I’m within range.”

     “So…me? You want me to go in there?”

     “Who else is gonna do it? Look, you want truth, right? You’re the pioneer in this hipster movement, correct? You have a whole online and offline following. Millions. Get in there and get what we need.”

    Czyra’s hand began to tremble. “I don’t know
. This has never ended well for me.”

     Ja
son tossed him a pair of headband sungoggles. “Put those on.” Czyra did. A nervous itch around his neck made him sweaty. He reached for the itch before freezing. Hand steady on his neck he looked at Jason who held a sheepish grin on  his face. “Hand around your neck, eh?”

     “You made me do this?”

     “Yah.”

    “So, let me get this straight: You’re sending me in there while you stay ten miles away. You’re
going to communicate with me through my eyes and mind control?”

     “You say it like it’s of the occult. It’s not magic, it is science. The glasses have a magnetic signal in the
bands which can be controlled by me from this device. It’ll help persuade you to have tendencies by generating the type of neurological brain signal I need in your head. Blah, blah, all the boring stuff. Basically tt’s all about control of electric; the manipulation of your neurotransmitter system. The eyes—“ Jason clicked on a button, lighting up Czyra’s vision. “The eyes will help you see what you need to see, and I’ll  be able to communicate with you.”

     Czyra noticed a more clear and vibrant world around him. He could sense bodies behind walls and could feel energy
of the cars below him.

     “How do you feel, kid?”

     “Like—like, Superman, or something.” He felt anxious. “I feel like somebody’s coming for us.”

     “You’ve got it. How far away is she?”

     “She’s 10 miles north…What is all of this?”

     “These are military-grade war devices. This is the technology of future world protection.
The government doesn’t even know about this. I developed this a long time ago with the woman coming to get us.”

     “How did I know she was coming?”

     “I downloaded her VIN and body chip number into this system. You sense her car and body getting closer. You know what type of car it is, how fast it’s coming, and its ETA. This isn’t mind control, you’ll just have a strong feeling about what you’ll need to do. A lot of times, you’ll probably cognitively disagree with the intuition. Kinda like, I don’t know what the hell I’m saying right now, but I’m saying it. Um, I guess, remember that.” 

     “
It’s like Jason isn’t even here. Who are you?”

     “I don’t know, but whoever it is, is definitely here to help.”

     “So, you’ve got everything I need in that device, and I should just follow my intuition?”

     Jason smiled. “You’ve got it. You don’t even have to think too hard. Follow your intuition – created by me
… um, whoever I am?”

     “Is this what it’s like to be chipped?”

     “Kind of, but no, not really. For one, they can’t control anything about me. They can only track and identify me at all times. Two, after being chipped, I lost some memory; kind of like amnesia. There was some dizziness, and I don’t remember too much else around that time. At the time, I woke up and didn’t recognize the facility I had worked in or the people I worked with for a half decade.” Jason clicked another switch on his device. “Let’s test it out.”

     Jason packed up his bag and began
to walk down the street across the overpass ahead. Czyra followed.

     “No. You stay right there. I programmed the next place you should be. I’m going there now. Wait ten minutes, and then begin walking.”

     Jason walked out of sight.

     Czyra nervously watched the time in the corner of his contact lenses as four minutes ticked
by. A message appeared in his left eye: “New Message” it sat for a second before opening.

     “You OK, buddy? It’s Jason. Calm down. Your body stress levels are way higher than I’d like to see in
this situation. Remember, there’s no harm involved, I’m right here with you. Three more minutes then begin to walk.”

     As Czyra stood in the same spot, above the overpass, his anxiety level cranked high. He felt the need to take a shortcut rather than follow the path that Jason had just walked. The longer he stood, the more anxiety filled the distance void in between him and Jason.

     A new message popped up in his left eye. “Hey, bud. Only one more minute until you can begin walking. How are you feeling? I’ll see you in a little. –Jay.”

     Standing on the overpass next to the ledge was beginning to make Czyra feel nervous. The tenth minute came and
Czyra felt a dizzy swirl reminiscent of the first shot of liquor at a bar. He looked over the steep ledge down to the highway below with a nagging urge to jump.
Jump?! There’s nothing but concrete and speeding vehicles down there. This is a malfunction.

    
Czyra wondered how to get back in touch with Jason. Something was wrong. The urge to jump increased as he felt his time passing. What if I wait too long? Will my intuition fail? This is all programmed, so what if I miss it?

    
His anxiety continued to build as time passed. Thirteen minutes – three minutes after he was supposed to begin walking he was frozen on the overpass with an irrational urge to essentially commit suicide.

    
What if it’s a setup and Jason is in on all of this. When I met him I was against him. What if this is a ploy to take me down and they go along with what they have planned. They want me dead but they want me to do it myself. It’s a conspiracy.

     The urge grew.

     This is only a test. I’ll fail it and tell him why. The hell if I’m jumping
.

     Sixteen minutes had passed. No word from Jason. No movement from his spot only a highwire act feeling in his chest that he was screwing something up.

     After a total of eight minutes of standing still past the time he was supposed to begin walking, Czyra dove over the wall, as he couldn’t help it anymore. The moment he jumped, he heard silenced gunshots occupy the area he once stood. As he plunged to open concrete he took notice through an unsteady drop that a tri-axle dump truck was just in the path of his fall. He was going to collide with this truck in some way, shape or form – he didn’t have the ability to focus in enough to tell what was going to happen to him. He curled up in a ball to prepare for impact, before everything went dark.

     His face barreled
into what felt like a bed of pinecones. Upon lifting his head and picking the painful pieces of wood out of his face, he rolled to see that he had put a hole into the cloth covering atop the tri-axle truck’s dump.

     He grabbed a handful of woodchips with both hands on either side of him. Was that the plan? If so, where was he going?

     He sprawled out peacefully in the back of the truck nursing his sore face and arms. The truck rumbled endlessly down the road hitting potholes and jostling him and the chips with each bounce. Fifteen minutes into the ride the truck pulled off of the freeway and into a city.

     Looking overhead though the hole he saw the traffic lights briefly whiz by in an endless swirl of unraveling blue sky.

     The truck stopped. A man got out. Czyra’s nerves began to heighten once more. The dizzy feel restarted in its beginning stage. He listened.

     “Let me see some I.D.” a man’s scratchy voice said. After some quiet time, the man continued, “What do you have in here?”

     A man with a more alto toned voice responded, “Woodchips for the playground.”

     A latch behind the truck
opened. Czyra heard a few chips fall onto the ground. The hollow metal door creeked and banged back closed, again. “He’s good. In and out, make it fast.”

     Czyra’s anxiety intensified as the truck swung into a 90 degree turn before backing up. The back up beep was right over his head and piercing his ears. He brought his hands up to cover his ears just as the back hatch of the gate un
latched letting a good ten percent of the chips leak onto fresh soil on a park.

     From there,
the entire bed of the truck began to tilt. Czyra remained curled up in a ball as the woodchips in front of him picked up steam and barreled into an avalanche sliding him down the chips. He heard a man shout “Whoa, wait, I’m not back there yet.” Through all the machine sounds of the truck dumping and the chips sliding.

     It was too late. With wood stabbing into his back and scraping up his skin from the back of his neck down to his heel, he was buried in a large pile of woodchips that never seemed to end piling on top of him.

     The noise continued as the truck banged against itself trying to unload the straggling pieces of wood left in the back.

     “OK. I think we’re done here. That’s it. Let’s make it before they come harass us.”

     The truck lowered its dumpster, the hatch re-latched and the truck drove off and Czyra remained buried with minimum to no movement of his entire body. He had limited oxygen, and it was pitch-black.

    
Now what?

     His anxiety had never settled from before the dumping—in fact
, it had increased.
Where is Jason?
He thought. There was no message in his contacts or audio in his ear. With no room to move, his dizziness began to overwhelm him. The fumes of the chips and the lack of oxygen felt impossible. At his own risk, he opened his mouth as wide as he possibly could to mouth in as many chips as possible.