The Tunnel

1.

“Fuck Bigfoot.”

      Michael’s brow creased and his lips curled into a slight frown as he considered those two words I’d just muttered, a phrase I’d really only meant for myself. He looked down at the phone-like device in his hand, then at the tunnel in the warehouse floor that the device had made visible a few seconds earlier, presumably trying to think of an appropriate response.

      “I’m not sure what that means,” he said, finally, “but you have to understand that –”

      He was interrupted by a vague hissing noise and a muffled thud from one the building’s upper floors, maybe twenty or thirty feet above the basement where we were standing. He looked up nervously at the pipe and valve-covered ceiling, shoved the phone-slash-decloaking-thing into the breast pocket of his navy-blue jumpsuit, and motioned at the gaping hole in the ground that was looking more and more like the last place any marginally sane, non-suicidal person would want to jump into.

      “They’ll get down here in around ninety seconds,” he said. “Mark was compromised, I don’t have the weaponry to fend them off. We need to leave now.”

      “Compromised?” I snorted sarcastically, listening to another hiss-and-thud sequence that sounded much closer than the last one. “Remind me again which one Mark was. The guy with whom I was conducting a routine, confidential business transaction, or the guy who he vaporized when the two of you busted into the room?”

       “It’s called CMD,” Michael sighed sadly. “Complete molecular destabilization.”

       “Huh?”

       “What your dealer did to Mark,” he said. “He was my buddy.”

       “Well, I’m not your buddy,” I said, “and I don’t know who “they” are, but when “they” get down here I’m going to explain to them that I’ve never met you or Mark or the guy who I thought was going to sell me a gram of kush. I have nothing to do with whatever special ops craziness is going down right now. I’m an innocent, mostly law-abiding citizen just looking to get buzzed enough to forget how shitty my life is for a couple hours.”

        Another hiss and thud, this one only a foot or two above the ceiling, strong enough that it caused the basement floor to vibrate. Suddenly the air around the tunnel began to shimmer and pop, a living layer of bubble wrap expanding and altering the depth of what was visible. Which would normally have been cause for a major bug-out, if the last few minutes hadn’t consisted of watching a dude’s molecules rip themselves apart and another guy getting offed in a more conventional manner, being chased by unsavory – and clearly misinformed – military types, and seeing the entrance to what looked like a complex, underground passageway system materialize out of thin air.

        At this point, the bubble-wrap air was just par for what was quickly becoming the most ludicrous course imaginable.

        Michael stepped onto the tunnel’s rim, then turned and faced me. “You can tell them whatever you want,” he said, his pale eyes widening as he went into dramatic-speech-mode. “They might keep you alive to question you first, but probably not. It’s enough for them that you saw the CMD. You’ve become a liability. On the other hand, if you continue to follow me and do exactly what I tell you to do, you’ll be safe. More than safe. I can show you all the crazy shit you’ve ever been curious about, the truth behind everything you’ve ever wanted to know. This is your blue-pill-or-red-pill moment, Vance. Except in this case, opting out means a one-hundred-percent chance of extermination, possibly involving quite a bit of pain.”

        I had to admit, the opportunity to avoid certain death did sound enticing. But what was up with all of that truth mumbo jumbo? “How do you know what I’m curious about?” I asked, as the pipes above us began to tremble. “Is that decloaking thing in your pocket capable of reading my brain waves as well?”

        Michael shrugged. “You were at the convention,” he said.

   A few yards from where we were standing, a large square-shaped section of the ceiling turned purple, then orange, giving off enough heat to immediately raise the temperature in the basement by several degrees. At least two distinct – and decidedly displeased – human voices were barely audible over the hissing that had now reached the volume of a commercial lawnmower.

       The goddamn convention. Rudy and his nerd brigade and their stupid plans to get me out of the house. I wanted to hate the moron, but staying mad at Rudy was like staying mad at a two-legged dog trying to take a piss; it just wasn’t worth it, especially when he was only trying to make me feel better. When it was obvious who the real culprit was.

        Fucking Bigfoot, I mouthed silently, fingering the folded-up photograph in my pocket. That abominable jerk-wad had gotten me into this, whatever this was. And, considering that the epicenter of his alleged habitat was roughly three thousand miles west of Midtown Manhattan, he probably wouldn’t be getting me out of it any time soon.  

       Michael frowned as the ceiling near us started to collapse, the pipes and valves gasping out wafts of chemical-tinged air as they severed and scattered across the floor.

      “Ten more seconds and the entryway will disappear for good,” he said. “Make a choice.”
       He took a step backward into the bubble-wrap air. There was a brief pneumatic whooshing sound as he disappeared down the hole.

       The square in the ceiling turned a blinding yellow color, then suddenly evaporated, leaving a gaping hole. Before I could make out what was on the other side, three bodies leapt through. It was the same goon from earlier, the one who had turned Mark into space dust. He was now joined by two other similarly gargantuan specimens, all of them wearing the same black SWAT-team gear, all of them pointing hand-held, gun-like objects in the direction of my midsection. Their faces twisted into annoyed scowls, definitely not seeming like they were in the mood to listen to any rational explanation for my presence that I might be able to offer.  

The lead goon nodded. His blaster started to glow, illuminating his clenched fist. 

Oh, hell no.

I cursed Bigfoot once more and jumped into the tunnel.