Chapter 58

Changes

Ethan cringed at the sight.

A splayed entrance of a tunnel that was doused in thick layers of fog and miasma stared at him from the screen, taunting. It had happened again–an anomaly.

Ronald had informed him in panic as soon as he’d returned, shoving the news into his face before Ethan could even take a shower. Some thirty miles north of Austin, just outside a smallish town of Georgetown, a Tunnel appeared last night while Ethan was hunting down military folk. It was in equal measure mesmerising as it was horrifying.

“... I was right. It wasn’t supposed to happen, huh?” Ronald mumbled as the two men entered. Layla was sitting on a sofa, a somewhat worried expression on her face. Ethan quickly pulled out several colouring books from the inventory as well as the colouring supplies and had the young girl go skipping into the bedroom to colour, accompanied by a tiny fairy on her back.

“No,” Ethan commented, sitting down. “It wasn’t.”

“What are we going to do?” Ronald asked. The boy was nervous–but, in fairness, for the first time, even Ethan was. He couldn’t intuit much from just a picture as even the colours were off–the precision required in order to actually depict the exact shade of colour simply couldn’t be replicated on his cheap laptop’s screen.

“I don’t know,” Ethan sighed. He truly didn’t. One thing was for certain, however–he couldn’t go. Georgetown was almost fifteen hours away by car, and they likely couldn’t even travel with one that far yet, so they’d have to go on foot which would turn the journey into one that’d last for days, at the very least. And even if they got there before the Tunnel exploded… were Elijah, Ronald, and him even enough to close it? If the difficulty was on par with the Scorched Savanna, just levelled up gently, they’d be doomed.

“...”

“I thought I was careful about fucking with the timeline,” Ethan sighed, taking out two beers and handing one over to Ronald. “But apparently… I wasn’t.”

“Are… we going?”

“No,” Ethan immediately said. There was deep relief in the boy’s eyes; memories were still haunting and fresh, after all. “It’s too far away, and even if it wasn’t… the risk is too big. The only reason I entered the last Tunnel was because it was so close to home and I didn’t want to utterly change the timeline into being unrecognisable.”

Just then, Ethan’s phone rang. Without even looking at the name, he immediately realised it was Elijah. Sighing and wondering how he’d dissuade the boy from wanting to go, he answered the call. Elijah’s panicked voice soon crawled through.

“Did… did you see the news?” the boy asked.

“Ronald just showed me,” Ethan said.

“... are we going?” Elijah asked.

“No.”

“... the town… what will happen to the town?”

“If the Tunnel remains uncleared,” Ethan said. “It will get invaded.”

“Can… can the military hold it?”

“No.”

“... I want to go.” The boy proclaimed.

“Go ahead,” Ethan said. “If you think you can close it on your own.”

“... Ethan… please,” Elijah pleaded suddenly. “I–it’s, it’s an entire town. Over a hundred thousand people. We can save them.”

“I don’t know if we can,” Ethan said. “We barely saved this one. Barely. You should know me by now, Elijah. If I die, Layla’s got nothing left. A hundred thousand lives aren’t worth it. Not to me.”

“... what, what if we asked for the military's help?” Elijah proposed. “If–if I explain how dangerous it is, we, we can recruit volunteers.”

"..." Ethan paused. It wasn't… the worst idea ever. Not just because they'd be able to save the town–in fact, that was far down the list of the things Ethan liked about Elijah's idea. In the first place would be him potentially discovering some kindles that were extinguished too early in the last life. "You already thought of it even before calling, huh?"

“...”

“There ain’t always gonna be a possible solution, Elijah,” Ethan said. “If you remain so stubborn, one day, it will kill you.”

“...” The boy didn’t say anything. There was no reason to say anything. To Ethan, the boy was obnoxiously naive and paralysingly obsessed with heroism. Ethan knew it would only get worse after what happened in the Tunnel–that was why he was so desperate to go to the city and convince them they needed help, and why he effectively begged Ethan to help.

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“I’ll call the General and see what can be arranged,” Ethan said. “You’ll be my mouthpiece there. I hope you’re ready to be hated by a whole army of soldiers, boy.”

“If it’ll save the town, it doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it doesn’t. Haah. Alright, I’ll call you. Don’t say anything, reveal anything, or accidentally let any information slip out. That’s the least you can do for me, no?”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Alright. I’ll call you later.”

“I’ll wait.”

Ethan hung up and fiddled with a phone; Ronald’s expression had darkened. It was an open book, in fact–the boy… didn’t want to go. Ethan didn’t blame him. Of all the ways a proper First Tunnel experience could have gone, theirs was one of the worst. It wasn’t the sort of thing that could just be gotten over and moved past.

“I can’t leave Layla here for that long,” Ethan said. “And I don’t trust anyone in the military even an ounce enough to let her stay with them.”

“...” Relief. Hope. Guilt. All emotions swirled in that tender gaze. His lips trembled as he lowered his head, shoulders heaving as he sobbed. “I’m… I’m sorry. I… I really am.”

“There’s nothing to feel sorry about,” Ethan said. “Believe it or not, of the two, Elijah’s the anomaly. But anomalies like him are the ones that die young.” As he spoke, Ethan found Michael’s number and dialled it. The man answered soon after, as though having expected the call–which he immediately confirmed.

“That was quick,” the General said.

“Huh. I thought you’d be asleep.” Ethan said.

“There is no time to sleep. You are calling me about that portal in Georgetown, right?”

“Yeah. What gave it away?”

“It is different from all the other ones recorded,” Michael said. “I can’t really get any direct reports as it’s all flying over my head. But seeing as you called… it can’t be a good thing.”

“It’s not,” Ethan said. “It’s the same type that we went in.”

“... where you lost someone?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s the catch?” Michael asked with a heavy sigh.

“If it’s not dealt with within a certain period of time,” Ethan replied honestly. “It becomes a two-way portal.”

“You… you don’t mean that monsters come out?”

“That’s precisely what I mean.”

“Dear God…” Michael heaved a weighty breath before continuing. “Then the town…?”

“Gone. With everyone in it.”

“I have to order evacuation immediately. Since we don’t know when it might open, if we hurry, we might have enough–”

“Slow down, slow down,” Ethan said. “That’s not why I’m calling.”

“It’s–it’s not? Wait, do you mean that you’ll go and deal with it?” Michael asked with a trace of hope in his voice.

“I wasn’t going to,” Ethan said. “But then Elijah called me.”

“... the boy convinced you?”

“No. He just offered a possible solution.”

“Which is?”

“Recruit from the ranks of the military,” Ethan said. “And go in together.”

“... would that work?” Michael asked. “We have some soldiers that have experience fighting monsters, but it’s mostly with guns.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Ethan said. “But if we have any chance of success, we have to be quick.”

“... very well,” Michael agreed a moment later. “I’ll make it happen.”

“It sounds like it won’t be smooth sailing.”

“It won’t,” the General said honestly. “It’s well outside my area of control. Likely none of my senior staff will agree to it, and if I report anything to the headquarters, they’ll just ask for a source and say they’ll ‘take care of it’.”

“What’s the plan, then?” Ethan asked.

“I’ve made a lot of connections in my days,” Michael said. “I’ll exploit every last one of them if need be to make this happen. How many soldiers do you need?”

“Don’t recruit anyone,” Ethan said. “Make it voluntarily while explicitly stating that the chances of death are extremely high.”

“I ask again–how many?”

“Wow. Confident in your soldiers, eh?” Ethan chuckled. As for the raw number… Ethan didn’t really know. Field Tunnels rarely, if ever, had a limit on how many people could enter. The issue was, however, that past a certain number of people, the Tunnel would scale in difficulty so as to compensate for the raw numbers. But as it was per Tunnel basis, it was impossible to know the exact number allowed. In the end, though, it was better to have a smaller, more experienced group than just a whole slew of weaker ones.

“We’ll limit it to twenty-five people,” Ethan said. “I’ll have to eventually filter out all candidates. And, this goes without question, I’ll be the one leading them inside the Tunnel.”

“I understand,” Michael said. “When do you want to leave?”

“Two days,” Ethan said. He was uncertain how long they had, but seeing as they’d likely take either planes or choppers, their travel time would be considerably shorter than if Ethan had gone on his own. “Michael.”

“... yeah?”

“This is a risk I’m taking in part because of Elijah and his incessant whining,” Ethan said. “But in part because I trust your judgement enough to even entertain the possibility of this idea working. However, if I spot anything that seems awry, I will burn it all down and simply leave.”

“... though it will matter to you little,” Michael said. “I swear on my son’s grave that I will make sure nothing happens to your daughter. I have to go now. There’s not a lot of time for me to burn all the bridges.”

“Think of it this way,” Ethan said. “Once we succeed, you’ll be the hero. I sure as hell won’t hog the cameras, but somebody will have to. Enter, Michael. Shit on them, then.”

“... we’ll be in touch.”

“We sure will.”

Ethan hung up the phone and rubbed the bridge of his nose. For a control freak, he began to realise he was relinquishing an awful lot of control recently. Things were spinning out far past what he imagined they would, and it felt like the entire chessboard was shaking and sinking. Though he always knew he’d never be able to truly control much of anything on a large scale, he’d hoped he’d be ahead of the curve enough to limit the exponential changes inside the U.S. at least.

He was wrong.

Finding Delilah, as such, became even more important. Distances would only grow, and his ability to be in many places at once hinged on the young girl's ability to connect them. As it would likely get lost in the motions, Ethan quickly sent Michael a text informing him that finding the girl was of equal importance to fielding a squad of 20-ish volunteers.

“... is there a trick?” Ronald asked suddenly.

“A trick?” Ethan glanced at him curiously.

“You know, a trick to… to make me be able to help,” the boy said. “I figured, you’re a psychiatrist. If anyone knows how to trick a brain with drugs and stuff, it’s you.”

“... yeah, because what I need is a drugged-up Ronald in there with me,” Ethan smiled faintly. “There are no tricks, kiddo. There are no shortcuts. If it was so easy to cure a mind, my job–and all those like mine–wouldn’t exist to begin with. In the end, it’s all up to you. Up until you can look back at that experience as something that’s simply a part of your life, it will always haunt you.”

“Is this one of those times when being like you is a positive?” Ronald’s smile was painful and forced.

“... no,” Ethan’s reply surprised him. “Grieving the loss of someone you cared for… is never, ever a bad thing, Ronald. Hang on to that with whatever you can. Trust me, you do not want to reach a point where you yearn for pain. Nobody does. Nobody.”