Chapter 27: Transitory Experience

Bernie sprawled across Lena’s lap, and Lena scooched so close she was practically in my lap, and I clung to the metal bar so I didn’t fall off the light rail bench. I think the seat’s designers intended it to hold three people, but in addition to the two of us, a pair of bleary-eyed yuppie types had collapsed closer to the window.

Could be worse. The bench facing us held a quintet of college students, piled on top of each other.

Lena and I could, and undoubtedly should, have left earlier in the afternoon, before people started pouring out of work and school and retreating to their suburban dens.

Since we’d missed that window, we could’ve waited for Benji to come back and seen if he wanted to drive over to Miguel’s.

Instead, we’d found ways to kill almost exactly the wrong amount of time and walked over to Englewood station just as the rush hour floodgates opened.

Look. Lena and I didn’t get where we are today by making sensible decisions.

Not that I really minded. A busy light rail car always put a smile on my face. I liked living somewhere with decent mass transit and a population willing to use it. Normally, that would’ve been tempered by worries about how many viruses we were collecting, but it seemed like our HP might protect us. I chose to believe we were safe until faced with evidence to the contrary.

I knew Lena didn’t share my particular mania for mass transit, at least when it was packed. As long as she had me and Bernie to hang onto, though, the crowd didn’t seem to freak her out too much. I gave her shoulder a squeeze anyway.

She glanced up. “What?”

“Nothing,” I said.

Her eyes darted around the crowded aisle and even more crowded seats, but they settled on me and she smiled. She propped her chin on the top of Bernie’s head, and I on hers.

The light rail pulled out of Englewood Downtown station. I turned to watch out the window as the building that housed the library and city offices, the last vestige of what had once been a shopping mall, rolled past. After that, there wasn’t much to look at, because the light rail followed old train tracks elevated above the roofs of most of the houses and stores. All I saw were gray skies and clouds and a hint of possible snow. If it turned into more than a hint, the walk home would put our enhanced stamina to the test.

A graphical flourish on the phone of one of the yuppies sitting by the window distracted me. A cartoonish spearman flipped from hoplite in bronze to legionnaire in iron. I almost asked if the dude was playing the game from Lena’s review, but I couldn’t remember which of a million interchangeable names it had gone by. Anyway, what would I say next? Wasn’t like I’d ever played it.

The absurdity of striking up a conversation with a stranger distracted me as we pulled into Oxford station. I almost didn’t look out the window again. Not like there was much more to see here. Oxford was one of the scrawniest stations in the entire RTD system, little more than a bus stop that happened to abut the light rail tracks, a metal bench, and a wind shelter that didn’t offer any shelter. Ask me how I know.

But as the doors closed and the light rail juddered to a start, I gave the window another glance.

I tensed.

“What?” Lena mumbled. She sat up and blinked.

“I thought I saw...” I realized both yuppies and the three college students who weren’t too high or drunk to pay attention were looking at me. “Never mind. I’ll tell you later.”

Lena glanced out the window, but we were already rolling away from the station. Nonetheless, she lowered her voice and said, “I think I can guess.”

I felt a shudder through her that had nothing to do with the light rail’s movement. I squeezed her shoulder.

I’d seen someone in a tall hat, or a tall cloak, or a really odd hairstyle. Or just a weird shadow.

Or the creature.

Which Albie had insisted wasn’t hunting us. Which I believed.

So what – assuming it wasn’t just my imagination – did I keep catching glimpses of?

Lena didn’t nestle back against me after that, although she clung close to both me and Bernie and I hung onto her for dear life.

The light rail slowing as it approached Littleton Downtown should have perked us up, since it meant we were almost at our destination. Instead, the thought of getting off the train, where the crowd offered at least an illusion of normalcy, made my heart slam in my chest.

Nonetheless, that’s what we, one of the two yuppies – not the one who might’ve been playing Lena’s new favorite idle game –, and a dozen other people did.

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Most of the crowd made for the car park. Lena and I were the only two to swim against the current of new college students pressing up the sidewalk from the south. Once we fought our way past a clog of them, we stood alone on the sidewalk. A minute later, the light rail rumbled past us toward stations further south.

I took out my phone and panned it around. Downtown Littleton looked the same with or without the Third Eye filter: cheerful, hipstery little shops giving way to the outskirts of suburbia. Even my mood couldn’t turn it sinister.

Only the lighting was different through Third Eye, and that was due to the flames spilling out of Bernie’s wide mouth and rippling up and down Lena’s body. I looked over at them.

Third Eye did nothing to disguise Lena’s frown. “You thought you saw the creature again.”

“I don’t know what it is I’m seeing,” I said. “I don’t... really think it looks like the creature. More like somebody’s avatar, but I’m not looking through my phone.”

“If that thing was at the light rail station,” she said, “it would’ve torn apart all the people who got off.”

I thought that sounded optimistic. From what we’d seen, it could’ve peeled open a light rail car like a sardine can before we could get out of our seats. Still, her point stood. “You’re right.”

Lena squeezed Bernie against her chest. “This is so fucked.”

I nodded. “Come on. Let’s get to Miguel’s place. I’m sure The Magnificent Ashbird will cheer us up.”

“I hear she’s got the best show on the internet.” I think Lena attempted a smile, but it didn’t come through. “Although her lovely assistant is the one who really sexes up the production.”

I shook my head. “No accounting for taste.”

She chuckled, and her grip on my waist loosened at least a little.

Still, we stayed hip-to-hip as we made our way past the community college, which was at least still fairly busy, and into the almost deserted suburban streets of Miguel’s neighborhood.

Overlarge yellowed lawns. Chain-link fences. Ranch homes that would’ve been big and trendy half a century ago. The biggest signs of personality, and the only indications that we weren’t the sole living creatures on the block, were a couple of barking dogs. I jumped when I first heard them, and Bernie grumbled a challenge, but as they continued to yap at us, I felt almost ridiculously grateful for them. This wasn’t some Third Eye generated pastiche of a suburb, less a place for people to live than the idea of such a place. It was real, inhabited, and if we’d gotten here a little earlier in the day, it would’ve looked familiar.

When we got to Miguel’s block, I slowed. I panned my camera upwards. “Huh. Somebody grabbed that upper story.”

“What?” Lena took her own phone out and looked around.

“Remember that place?” I pointed to one of the other houses on the block. The last time we’d come here, the Third Eye filter had added an entire floor to its single-story ranch design. Neither Lena nor Erin nor I had been able to collect it, which was a bummer, because it seemed like it would’ve contained a ton of Materials. We’d written it off as something we couldn’t get without dragging a ladder across somebody’s front yard.

“Oh, weird,” Lena said. “Maybe Matt took it. He seems like the type who wouldn’t give a shit about somebody’s property.”

“Could be.” Truth was, I suspected Matt would be more scrupulous about following the letter of the law then we were. It seemed to be how he approached games. I felt no need to defend him, though. “Maybe Miguel knows.”

“Couldn’t hurt to ask,” Lena said. “Let’s go. It’s late enough people might think we’re weird for hanging around outside their houses.”

“I can’t imagine another reason we’d want to get off the street,” I said.

We picked up our pace.

“I wonder where that maze would’ve led.” Lena nodded to the yard of one of Miguel’s neighbors. They’d had, presumably unbeknownst to them, a Third Eye hedge maze in their front yard. I’d collected it from the sidewalk, but at the time, I felt like if I had chosen to follow it instead, I would’ve found something on the other side.

“In light of what we’ve seen since then,” I said, “I’m just as glad we didn’t find out.”

Lena hugged her arms. “Point.”

There wouldn’t really have been some distorted space, some lurking monster, right out here in the open.

Right?

Probably not, just as there probably wasn’t a creature dogging our steps, lurking just out of sight.

All the same, I’d never been happier to see Miguel’s plain blue ranch house, with his Prius and Zhizhi’s ancient Neon parked in the driveway. I supposed he’d invited her over to watch the video, as well. Fair enough. Between filming and editing, she’d put at least as much work into it as Lena and I. We’d be splitting the proceeds accordingly; why not split the chance to view it on the big screen, as well?

When we got to the walkway, Lena burst into a sprint. She reached up to knock on the door, but it swung open before her fist landed.

“Hey, Lena,” Zhizhi said. “Fashionably late, I see. As a star should be.”

“Of course.” Lena swept her arm around the yard. “But where’s my red carpet? My cheering public? My paparazzi?”

Zhizhi raised her phone and snapped a picture. Lena shied away from the flash as I caught up to her.

“If you didn’t enjoy that,” Zhizhi said, “you should be glad I’m the closest thing to paparazzi you’ve got.”

“Oh, we are,” I said.

“Miguel’s getting everything set up in the living room.” Zhizhi looked back and forth between us and furrowed her brow. “Rough trip?”

Lena and I exchanged glances.

“Weird crowd at the light rail station,” I said.

“You know how it is,” Lena said. “We gotta fight off fans with a stick.”

“At least they only had one stick between them,” Zhizhi said. “Once they’re all armed, you’ll really have to start worrying.”

I cracked a smile and Lena’s shoulders relaxed. Although that might’ve been because Zhizhi stepped back to let us in.

Lena wasted no time accepting the invitation, but just before I stepped over the threshold, I cast one last glance down the street.

No other pedestrians. Nothing else moving. The only hint of life remained those two barking dogs, who’d started yapping again as though we’d just passed their house.

A perfectly ordinary street.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

But I still made sure to lock Miguel’s front door as soon as I slipped inside.