“No… no… no… Oh! That’s it! I see it!” Anja calls out, pointing to her silver sedan in the movie theater parking lot.

“Can’t believe how many people are here on a Sunday night,” Mom grumbles, pulling into a lot a few spaces down from Anja’s car.

“In all fairness, it is a holiday,” Dad points out.

Anja, currently without her glasses and bandages on her face, exits the car and runs straight to hers, before abruptly coming to a stop next to it. Ashley, our parents, and I get out of the car as well.

“Uh… guys?” Anja calls. “I just realized… I don’t have my keys.”

“I’m sure Ruth gave it to one of the children,” Ashley says. “Let’s go check and see if they’re done.”

“Oh, I hope they haven’t been too traumatized,” I say, feeling a pang of worry as I picture how scared they looked back in the palace.

“Couldn’t have been worse than my first time in the… other place,” Anja says.

The five of us walk across the parking lot and to the movie theater, which is in a tall part of the mall. There are several sets of doors, which still open occasionally as older teenagers and families make their way home. We push our way inside, and start scanning the crowd. I think I see Odetta with a few other girls, but I decide not to say hello. Shortly after, we find Collin, Jason and Kat.

“Zoe!” Collin says at once, looking awkward. “I… uh, you… I’m glad to see you. I was worried.”

I smile at him, and pull him into a big hug. He tries to keep up his cool, but I hear a bit of sniffling from over my shoulder.

“How was the movie?” Anja asks.

“Oh, it was so good!” Jason says, his eyes glowing. “I wanna see it again when Charlotte’s free. It was funny, and the songs were so good!”

“What happened to your face?” Kat asks. “Get into a fight?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry,” Anja says, grinning. “I got him back real good.”

“Well, hate to be a spoilsport, but it’s getting late, and all of your parents must be worried,” Mom says.

“Oh yeah. Do any of you have my car keys…?” Anja asks nervously.

“I have them,” Jason says, pulling them from a pocket in his cardigan.

“Why’d she give them to you ?” Collin says, abruptly pulling away from my arms.

“Ruth’s smart enough to know who the responsible one is,” Kat says tauntingly.

“You wanna fucking go?” Collin says threateningly.

“Excuse me, language!” Mom chides.

“Oh, sorry, Mrs. Davis,” Collin says sheepishly. I giggle, happy to see things are back to normal for now.

We took everyone home, splitting people between our and Anja’s car. At home, Ashley’s parents tune into local news, anxious to see how the events of the night are being reported on. I, however, feel remarkably tired, and decide to go straight to bed. It’s been a trying day for me, the most trying day since the day I left home. Truly, I’ve been to places I never would’ve dreamed of. And as I drift off, I can’t help but to ponder in fear where God will need our help next…

----------------------------------------

And sure enough, our heroes found themselves far enough down the iceberg that the rotating first-person POV is no longer sufficient to tell the whole story.

At Kelly Patel’s tip, the APD raided the Play Hard Gentleman’s Club and shut the operation down. Intan and the other children were put in the care of social services, who worked to return them to their homes when possible, or otherwise find them new ones in orphanages or foster care.

Sheriff Hurt’s body was found in the trunk of his car, and law enforcement correctly put two and two and determined that he had been in pursuit of a tip about the gentleman’s club. Local media hailed him as a hero, and there were plans made for a public funeral.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

Ms. Patel was called in during the investigation of Sheriff Hurt’s murder to testify. She was led into the station’s conference room, a small, quiet room with no windows, and left by herself, being told that an officer would soon be with her. The next person to enter her room, however, would be a woman with short black hair. That, of course, would be Kierstyn Beatty.

Upon seeing her, Ms. Patel frowns. “You’re an officer?” she asks.

“Something like that,” Kierstyn Beatty answers. She sits down across from the Pakistani woman and folds her arms. "All that’s important to you right now is that I’m the one keeping you alive right now,” she says nonchalantly. “So if you’d rather your insides not be turned to sludge, play nice.”

Ms. Patel’s eyebrows furrow in fury. “What is the meaning of this? I am here to testify about the murder of a heroic police officer. This… this intimidation is unacceptable!”

“Cut the bullshit. You know as well as I do that your brother, Jamal Patel, was the owner of that club.”

“You think that just because we’re related, I was involved?” Ms. Patel argues indignantly. “There are millions of Patels in South Asia, probably billions…”

“...And that you allowed them access to those in your apartment building who struggled to pay your rent.”

“I… I had no knowledge of this!” Ms. Patel retorts, her voice shaky.

“You know as well as I do that Moloch has no mercy for defectors,” Kierstyn continues, ignoring. “He gave you a son, and yet you failed…”

“What?” Ms. Patel hisses. She drops her voice to a whisper. “What are you playing at?”

“This is going to go a lot more quickly if you go ahead and drop the act,” Kierstyn replies in a low voice. “Let’s cut to the chase. The only reason why you’re still alive right now is because you’re lucky. It just so happens that Moloch no longer needs that abominable bunch of perverts. We are moving on to a new phase… and you have a part to play.”

Ms. Patel gulps, and then looks around the room. Her eyes land upon the security camera.

“Temporarily on the fritz,” Kierstyn says casually. “We can talk in complete anonymity.”

She glances sideways back at Kierstyn. “Who are you, exactly?”

“I already told you,” Kierstyn says. “I’m your last tether to life.”

Ms. Patel stares suspiciously at Kierstyn for a moment, before slouching back in her chair. “What do you want?”

“First, I’m curious to know. How much did you really… change?” Kierstyn asks, a slight smirk forming on her lips.

“What?” Ms. Patel asks.

Kierstyn slams both hands on the table abruptly. Ms. Patel blinks, but otherwise manages not to flinch.

“Those children were rummaging around in your heart, were they not?”

“I… how should I know?”

“So cold to the world, you know not what happens within your own heart?” Kierstyn taunts. “You would’ve felt an urge- a sudden revelation.”

“I… all I can tell you is, I… I had a fear about what may have been happening at my brother’s club, after some of the events of the day, and I had to say something… just in case.”

“Mm-hmm. Sure,” Kierstyn says sarcastically. "And how did that make you feel?"

"To be honest, I was afraid for my life," Ms. Patel explains. "But I…"

"And that's all I needed to hear," Kierstyn says, smiling in a satisfied way. "Okay, let me tell you the deal then. You're going to keep doing what you're doing, telling this version of events that paints you as some hero. You'll see that there's a certain… interpretation of events that will come to be favored by the governor and his party, and you'll play along with it. If you don’t, well, let's just say it may slip that you were very much complicit in the trafficking ring. Don't try denying it- I can prove it easily. But I won't, as long as you behave. And don't think for a moment that you won't be thrown under the bus with ease- the people here will have no trouble painting someone like you as a villain."

"This is blackmail!" Ms. Patel cries indignantly. "This will not stand in the court of law! I have rights!"

"I do not care about the court of law," Kierstyn states plainly. "And yes, this is blackmail."

"So what?" Ms. Patel demands. "I'm supposed to go along with whatever narrative the Republican Party will push? And what narrative is that, may I ask?"

"The governor believes that there is a common throughline to these events, as well as many of our current cultural… inadequacies."

"And what do you believe?" Ms. Patel challenges.

"What I believe does not matter," Kierstyn states coolly. "Neither does what you believe. We are effectively extensions of the governor's will- nothing more, nothing less."

With that, Kierstyn gets to her feet, and makes for the door.

"Now wait just a moment!" Ms. Patel cries. "You come in here, threaten me with blackmail and baseless allegations, and then just leave?"

"I've said all I need to say to ensure your compliance," she says. "You will never see me again. Goodbye." Kierstyn exits through the door.

"Officers! Guards!" Ms. Patel cries out. She runs to the door and throws it open, to find the hallway completely empty.

"What the- Somebody! There's an intruder!"

"What’s all the ruckus?" Asks an officer as he turns the corner of the hallway.

"Officer, I'm so glad to see you. There was an intruder in- lady with short black hair-"

"I haven't seen anyone like that in here," the officer says flatly. "Are you feeling alright?"

"She was here, she just left, I don’t know where-"

"Why don't you go back into your room and wait for one of us to be with you?" the officer says.

Without waiting for a response, he opens the door, and holds it as if courteously inviting her back inside.

Ms. Patel takes a deep breath, hums a single dissatisfied note, and then re-enters the conference room.

Meanwhile, across the state, the apparatus of the state government was at work. What begun as an investigation of this club and its activities soon began to bloat in scope to what seemed on the outside to be a holistic study of all known activity in the state relating to the sexual abuse of children. A noble cause… reassuring to see them taking this issue so seriously, right?

For now, the heroes can rest and enjoy the rest of their Christmas Break. But with mysteries left open and storms on the horizon, their return to the enigmatic Metaverse is assured. Only this time, they will meet their most dangerous enemy yet.

~Ending of Movement IV: Diving Into Dark Water~