The Oneiro Rangers: First Night (11 page)

“You are not going to be
waiting
,” Ovid corrected sternly.
“You are going to be saving countless lives from the Nightmares terrorizing
every poor soul they encounter. Let’s just hope that blasted Nightterror stays
away until we bring everyone back. For if you fail, Nött as we know it will
come to an end, and a world of Nightmares will rise; something no one would
ever want to have happen. So, no pressure. I trust the five of you will do your
best to prevent that, am I right?”

“Right like a light,” Roland said with a fake salute. “If we are
the last kick to the can, so be it.”

“Splendid!” Ovid poured the sand into a vial and closed it with a
cork, storing it away in one of his coat pockets. “I shall begin on the sand
this instant, after you are suited of course.” He swung behind the chair in the
middle of the room, holding himself up on the headrest. “How about you?” He
pointed to Roland. “Do you want to go first? Or are you
afraid
?”

Roland separated from the group, tugging his shirt into place.
 “I ain’t afraid of nothing.”

He sat in the padded chair, Dr. Ovid looping the leather straps
over his wrist and belting them tight. After placing the metal head cap and
strapping it around Roland’s head, he hopped over to the wall switch.

Ovid gripped the large lever. “Ready?”

Roland nodded.

Instantly–after cranking down the lever–sparks shot out of the
chair, the tesla coils sending bolts of electricity through Roland’s head. Ovid
laughed manically as Roland’s head vibrated — all his muscles tensed and
shaking. The overhead light flickered rapidly, the power surging. When it was
all done, the light slowly came back on, everything becoming quiet. Smoke rose
from the metal cap, a grey trail snaking up to the ceiling; Roland sitting there
limp with his tongue hanging out.

The massive possessing machine–which took up the entire right
wall–beeped and clicked loudly for a while, scratchers filling rolls of paper
with zigzagging lines. Meter needles swung left and right and a line of light bulbs
went wild with buzzing lights. Roland shook himself awake, coming out of the
electrified daze. After a short wait, a small piece of paper popping out of the
slot in the middle, making a small duck-like quack to let them know it was
finished. Ovid tore it off and held it outward to read it.

“Your district shall be...” He paused to make sure he was reading
it right, the text covered with blobs of ink. He smiled and announced it in a
deep growl. “... Redlight.”

Angelica freed Roland from the chair, helping him stand on his
feet. “Are you okay?”

Roland held his long hair back to have it spring right back up.
“Boy-howdy, what a rush!”

“You’re next young Malory,” Ovid beckoned with a sinister chuckle,
patting the chair. “Hop on!”

“No!” Malory ran behind Angelica to hide. “I don’t want to be
electrificated
!”

“She’s still in P.S. 118,” Clint stated to the side. “She’s hasn’t
had any real training yet, besides the extra exercise P.S. 118 gives them.”

“Ahh, my apologies, my dear.” Ovid quickly shot a finger up. “
But
,
don’t think you’re off the hook yet. Our dear morpheus here will teach you
everything you need to know. Once the both of you believe you’re ready, then we
will get you into a uniform and into the fight.” He ran back to the lever.
“Now, who wants to go next?”

From outside, the lights flashed wildly over and over again. The
night was filled with maniacal laugher during the rest of the student’s
determining of districts. Angelica’s district was Gaslamp, Errol’s was Central
Parkrow, Glenda’s was Oceanside, and Sova’s was Industrial. By the time it was
all said and done, the room was filled with wafting smoke, everyone coughing
and swatting it away. Finished with the machine and letting the room clear out,
Clint lead the students to a room adjoined to the supply room labeled:
ARMORY
.

It was like the locker room they used for physical education
training, lockers lined along the wall in a big square. But, with this room,
the center consisted of tables and racks filled with all kinds of gizmos and
weaponry. Big guns, small guns, experimental guns, plasma knifes, plasma
stilettos; each one categorized in its own rack and area for the rangers to
choose from.

“This is where you get your Oneiro suits and weaponry from,” Clint
explained.

“Dibs on the Double Bucker!” Roland rushed over to a large OSG12
flechette blaster, also called a
Double Bucker
for short. He aimed it
around, moaning in pleasure. “Oh-ho yeah, that’s the ticket.”

Clint plucked the gun out of Roland’s grip and set it back on the
rack. “You are only allowed supplies with a superior’s authentication for your
request. That means
me
. And until it’s necessary, the big guns are off
limits. That goes for all of you.”

Opening the only other door in the room, Clint showed them a small
back-room that held a basic looking filing cabinet. Sliding the lowest drawer
open, he kneeled down to type into the hidden keypad hidden under a false
folder. Everyone stepped back when the wall folded into itself and spun around
to show what was on the other side of the wall. A small safe built into a wall
was revealed, Clint twisting the secret combination with the knob and cranking
open the hatch. Inside was a bunch of small badges, joined by handheld
walkie-talkies.

Shaped like a golden shield, every badge had the letters “NOR”
imbedded into the center and the ranger’s registration number ached over the
top. The shiny crystalline color of the ranger’s district was what highlighted
the numbers to make them more visible — the darker colors holding white text
instead of the standard black. Clint sorted through them and picked one color
for each of them: a ruby one for Roland, sapphire for Glenda, emerald for
Errol, amber for Angelica, and an onyx one for Sova.

The students stood in a line, allowing Clint to hand them out one
by one. “Each one of these contains a crystal inside, right where your new
badge number has been stamped over. Your suit will relate to the crystal,
showing your district.
Never
leave this place without your badge and,
more importantly,
never
lose it.”

“That’s all fine and dandy,” Roland pointed over to the safe, “but
what’s the super tight security for?”

Clint grabbed five of the walkie-talkies, having to cradle them in
his arm because of their clunky shape. “If this technology fell into the wrong
hands... well, we don’t want to risk it. They have fail-safes and we’re able to
disable them, but someone or something will always be able to find a way around
them. Like they say, better safe than sorry.”

The flexible, rubber-covered, antennas to the walkie-talkies
wiggled as he handed them out. “Now, these radio-wave communicators will allow
all of you to keep in contact with each other, scan for clues, and metransist
into your Oneiro Suits. Anything radio-waves can be used for, it has a function
for it, used by the dial on top, next to the antenna.”

Clint locked up and set the filing cabinet back, pressing a button
on the other wall to set everything to where it was before. Leading them back
into the armory, Clint was about to continue, but was quickly interrupted
before he could even open his mouth.

“So, what kind of gun do we get?” Roland asked excitedly.

Angelica scoffed. “Again with the guns?”

Clint hiked his hands up on his hips. “That will be for a
different day. This is enough for now.”

Roland snapped his fingers in anger. “Aw man!”

“Ahh!” Dr. Ovid exclaimed with passion as he barged in. He inhaled
deeply. “Just smell the power in this room — I love it!” He took a gun from the
rack and slipped it under his nose, giving it a strong whiff. “This is an out
of the box OP6, fresh from the lab. It’s perfect! Each one is made flawlessly
by only the best of gunsmiths, picked from my own hand. These are my most
favorite of inventions, next to the metransistors of course…” He tossed the
pistol in the air, forcing Clint to lunge for it before it fell. “... or maybe
the Panzeriese. It’s rare to find someone who doesn’t enjoy a giant robot.”

“Should we show them the Panzeriese?” Clint asked. “You don’t
think they will wreck anything in the hanger, do you?”

“Well, it is late.”

“Let’s see what they would like to do. Hey kids, would you like
to—” Clint turned away from Ovid, seeing all of the teens sprawled out on the
floor fast asleep. “Hmm, I nearly forgot the little tykes were up all night.”

“Let them get some rest,” Ovid replied. “They’ll need all they
can. Five students making up for an entire department will be more tiring than
anything. If you need me, I’ll be working on the sand. Who knows what wonderful
wonders
I shall unveil?!”

Clint watched Ovid head to the lab and then glanced down at the
sleeping students. “I might as well bring them pillows.”

Chapter 12

Daylight fell while the few who remained in the academy rose out
of bed. Being awake all morning, the newly-made rangers awoke at sunset — each
in their own dorm room. Without other students and faculty right there to make
the usual unbearable racket, it was no surprise that they felt like it was an
entirely different building. The cafeteria–which was always filled with hungry
teens chomping and dropping their food down–was nothing but abandoned tables
and booths. Not having to wait in the long line they were used to, they got
their food trays and slid them on the metal bars in front of the food display.

“I hope the food will fit to your liking,” Ovid greeted from
behind the food counter, wearing a blinding-white chef’s outfit. The puffy
chef’s hat he wore looked two sizes too big, even for a huge head like his.

Angelica’s  jaw dropped a little. “
You
are making the
food?”

Ovid fiddled with the wooden ladle in his hand as he spoke. “A
while back I owned my very own restaurant.” He looked down. “It didn’t go as
well as I hoped it would. It was acclaimed by the high quality of the meals
served, especially my soups.” He opened the pot in front of him and smiled over
the steam. “Would anyone like to try it?”

Roland swung a bowl forward. “I'll take some of that!”

“Yeah,” Malory agreed, “me too!”

Everyone got their food and all sat at the same table. They were
able to hear every noise their utensils made, no real background noise to drown
it out like before. Without even touching her breakfast, Angelica set her spoon
down. She looked among the group, seeing the other teens still eating. Right
next to her, Sova was concentrated on his plate, taking slow bites from his
fork.

“... Am I the only one who’s afraid?” She quietly asked, almost to
herself.

Roland slurped his soup loudly. “Of course
you’re
afraid.”

Angelica tossed a chunk of bread at him, having it land in his
soup bowl with a big splash. She leaned forward while Roland wiped soup off his
face with a cloth napkin. “I’m serious here. They really expect the five of us
to take care of the entire city?”

“Don’t worry sis,” Errol comforted, across the table from her, “a
Nightmare rarely appears now-a-days. I bet Ovid will be done with the sand
doohickey before one even shows up. If you ask me, I say it’s all just to make
the people here feel safe. It’s all just so they can say there are still
rangers out there in the paper. That kind of thing.”

Angelica fold her hands in her lap. “I just hope you’re right. Are
you afraid Sova?”

Sova patted his black lips with a napkin. “To be entirely honest,
a little. The people in our district will be depending on us. Even
if
a
Nightmare attacks, I’ll always worry about people getting hurt until we get a
chance to stop it. We won’t know about the Nightmare until
after
it
attacks, something I wish we could change for the better.”

Angelica couldn’t help but feel touched by his words. She turned
away to hide her uncontrollable grin. “... I feel the same.”

.  .  .

“In order to activate the metransistors,” Clint taught to the
class of six, “you have to insert your badge into the back of your communicator
and twist it to lock it in place.” He did as he instructed, using a permanently
disabled badge and radio model. “Then press down on the white button next to
the antenna to input the morphing command…”

Angelica bumped her brother’s elbow, whispering to him. “Pssst.
Hey, Errol, give me your letter to dad so I can mail it after class.”

Errol tapped his pencil’s eraser on the desk. “I’m... I’m not
finished with it yet.”

“Not finished? How much have you written?”

Errol broke eye contact. “I didn’t get a chance to start it.”

“Didn’t get a chance?!” She looked up, but luckily Clint was still
lecturing. “Errol, you’ve had all day to write it. What, was messing around
with Roland more fun?”

“Get off my case, will ya? I’ll get to it when I’m ready to write
it.”

“I’ll be a hundred by then!” She huffed, getting out her binder
and flipping through papers. “Really shows how much you care,” she mumbled.
“Good for nothing mule. Ungrateful, that’s what ya are.”

“I’m sure all of you brought your pistols like I asked.” Clint set
the radio and badge down on his desk and opened up the text book beside it.
“Get out your firearms manual and turn to page three. We’ll go over reloading
again and then you guys can practice it amongst yourselves.”

Without warning, the lights went off again. All the girls gasped from
the sudden darkness, chairs squealing. The star-filled night sky dimly lit the
classroom, making long shadows stretch all throughout. Moving blindly down the
aisles, everyone gathered by the Clint’s desk. Clint whipped out a lantern from
the drawer and turned it on, its glow just barely enough to see the teens
crowding near him.

“Something’s wrong,” Clint stated. “I checked the fuse box myself.
There’s no way the power could have gone out twice in a row.”

“Maybe it was Ovid,” Sova suggested. “He
is
working with
that powerful machinery of his.”

Ovid’s voice exploded out of Clint’s radio. “How can I work if you
are playing with the lights?!  I can’t look in the microscope if I can’t
see!”

“Okay,” Sova correct himself, “’twasn’t him then.”

“I’ll take Malory to Ovid’s lab,” Clint ordered, grabbing Malory’s
hand as he talked. “The rest of you are going to investigate.” He opened up
another drawer and started handing out flashlights to the teens. “You’ll need
these and you’ll need your guns too. Don’t shoot unless you know for sure what
you’re aiming at.” He pointed an accusing finger at Roland. “
You
especially. Be careful out there.”

“You can count on us,” Roland assured as the teens clicked on
their flashlights, sending beams of light all over the place. “We’ll have it
done in a jiffy.”

Everyone in the room lined up right outside the door, moving
single file. The hallways were empty, the flashlights washing out the dark
areas around the constantly crossing beams. They barely took five steps when a
loud clatter around the corner made everyone jump — except for Clint.

“Come on Malory,” Clint said as he pulled her away from the group.
“We’re going to see if Dr. Ovid is okay.”

Clint and Malory headed down the stairs, disappearing from sight
as the pounding of their feet echoed throughout the empty hallway. The rangers
turned the opposite way, creeping closer to the area where the noise came from,
the hallway now silent. There was a quiet noise following them, a dull clicking
sound, like when a dog’s claws taps on a sidewalk.  It was almost drown
out, competing with their footsteps. Small squeaks came from around the corner
as they peeked around it.

There were wads of paper littering the floor, the trail leading to
a trash can lying on its side, rats scurrying away from the oncoming
flashlights. All the light beams lowered in relief, a few sighs breaking the
silence. But something made them back at attention, the lights flying about.
The dull clicking started getting louder and louder. It became deeper and
faster.

Suddenly, it stopped... and was replaced by an inhuman scream.

Glenda’s light shined over the top of the lockers, long scaly grey
ears hanging over them. Two little black eyes stared at them, glowing white
when hit by the light. Six claws inched outwards, the pointed tips scraping
against the metal. Its head slowly lifted into view, revealing a long row of
jagged black teeth. Its exposed muscles tensed, its uncovered bones bending;
the creature ready to attack.

The others saw it right when Glenda started running away
screaming. She dropped her flashlight, kicking it with a boot. The light spun
around on the floor, sliding under the locker. It didn’t matter; she bolted as
far and fast as her legs would take her. If the creature didn’t know they were
there, it certainly did now.

Sova tried to grab her, but didn’t react fast enough. “Glenda, no!
Don’t leave the light!”

The hunched creature ignored Glenda and, instead, lunged at its
closest target; nearly toppling the locker over from its powerful take-off.
Errol caught it by its slithering neck, its head thrashing about to get a bite
on his arms. Loose skin from its decaying arms and legs shed off as it flailed
wildly, its claws tearing bits of Errol’s sleeves. The black bones in its arms
cracked rapidly from its quick movements, the thin grey muscles and tendons
visibly flexing without any skin to cover them.

The locker clattered loudly as Errol smashed the Mara against the
metal, leaving a deep dent from the impact. It let out a snarling screech of
pain, cut off by a left hook to the side of its rodent-like snout. Flying deep
into the hallway, it landed on the floor with a wet slide, its flesh smearing
over the floor in a thick paste.

Glenda continued to run blindly, only having the glimmer of the
windows tell her when a corner was coming. The bitter and sour taste of burned
garbage filled the air she was fighting for — more of the creatures coming to
get her. Running on all fours, one of them closed in. Leaping high in the air,
its claws were about to slice through her shoulders. A shot zapped through the
hall, catching the Mara right in the back. The creature dissipated into a
shower of blue embers, Glenda shaking off its fluttering remains — others
coming to take its place.

“Stop running, Glenda,” Sova ordered as loud as he could, OP6 in
hand. “You’re going to get lost!”

“Where are all of these Mara coming from?” Angelica shouted over
the inhuman shrieks, having trouble keeping up.

“I think it has to do with the lights going off. Last time
everyone disappeared. This time—”

“—they want the leftovers,” Angelica finished for him. “We better
take out whatever summoned them before it takes
us
out.”

Back in their starting point, Roland uppercutted a Mara in the
chin, knocking its head clean off. Another one jumped on his back, the sharp
claws digging into his shoulders. From behind, Errol pulled its head back and
dropped an elbow down to its jaw, sending it straight into the floorboards.
Spinning around, Roland kicked it away, sliding it into a sharp wall corner.
With all of its weight bending its spine backwards, the creature burst into a
cloud of embers after splitting into two.

During their short breather, Roland noticed it was only the two of
them there.

“Where did everybody go?”

“I saw them run that way,” Errol answered, pointing his light
towards a hallway filled with snarls and screeching.

Roland quickly faced the other direction. “Let’s go
another
way
then.” He ran through a different corridor. “Come on.”

Sova grabbed Glenda by the waist before she turned into the next
corner, lifting her still kicking feet off the ground. Angelica struggled to
catch up, panting heavily next to them. From the end of the next hall, three
loud bangs rang out. Long blue flames whooshed by where Glenda would have been,
burning holes through the wall. Holding her behind cover, Sova used his other
hand to make sure Angelica was behind cover as well.

“What — what was that?!” Angelica exclaimed between deep breaths,
eyes wide in surprise.

Peeking around the wall, Sova tried to get a sight of the shooter,
expecting more gunfire his way. All he could see was the blink of a blue dot
floating in the darkness, the small light vanish almost instantly.
 Chiming footsteps echoed, the sound of spurs. By the time he got the
flashlight in its direction, there was nothing there. Just a blank wall and the
long rows of lockers leading to it.

Movement came into sight, Sova lifting his weapon.

“Don’t shoot,” Roland shouted as he headed towards Sova’s
flashlight, Errol right behind him. “It’s just us.”

“Fire away,” Angelica said, half serious.

Sova would have laughed if the joke was said in a better time —
one where a gunman
wasn’t
trying to plug them full of holes and a horde
of Mara
weren’t
hot on their trail.

Roland slowed to a stop. “What’s the big idea running away like
that? Don’t you dopes know we gotta stick together?”

“Why didn’t you stop it?” Angelica scolded.

Roland and Errol looked at each other.

“Stop what?” Errol asked.

“The shooter,” Sova said. “It nearly hit Glenda if I didn’t pull
her away in time.”

Roland glanced at her, pushing down the anger boiling inside. “I
would’ve given him the works for sure. He didn’t go down our way.”

Errol aimed his light at the steps to the left. “All that’s left
is the stairs.”

“But which way?” Angelica asked. “Up or down?”

A strong crash from above gave them the answer they needed.

“Up.”

The night wind howled over the Oneiro Academy’s rooftop, six
stories high. A powerful kick caved the doorway into itself, splintered wood
spinning off to the sides. There was nowhere to go and nowhere to hide. He knew
that — all part of the plan. The rangers poured out of the ruined doorway,
Roland at head point.