The Metropolis Series #2: Quinn Beyond Bounds
24. Mackenzie

I MIGHT HAVE FORGOTTEN how that dream ended, but I did remember waking up to the sound of screams coming from inside the house.

And that was how my rude awakening at the Spanish House went.

I looked out the window to see that the sun still wasn’t up. I reached for my small pouch that sat at the foot of my bed and grabbed my phone.

It was 4:30 in the morning. Great.

In hindsight, I knew that I wouldn’t be getting a good night’s sleep. It was a miracle that I was even able to doze off in the first place, even though the last things I heard were explosions rattling the house. When I woke up, I thought I was finally able to rewind time, and I would replace myself back in my dorm room like nothing had happened. However, judging from the orange patches that covered the sky and the smoke that filled my lungs, I knew that nothing had changed.

I was still at the Spanish House. And it was on fire.

Then, the screaming continued, making falling back to sleep impossible. I decided that there was no point in staying in bed anymore. I needed to know what was going on.

I readjusted Julio’s beanie, tucking in some loose strands of hair, and wiped the sweat from my face with a hanky. The room was hot, and the dream I just had didn’t make me feel any more comfortable. The sweater I had on began to feel itchy and smell weird, too. Despite that, I opted not to change. The clothes in the closet might have been Rachael’s, and putting them on wouldn’t feel right.

I got out of my room to replace Viv just outside hers. She was in a pink sleeveless nightgown with a matching bow present on her head. She spots me amidst a yawn and a stretch, looking at me as her eyelids droop.

“Morning, Quinn,” she said groggily. I guess getting up in the middle of the night was a regular thing here. Down the hall, I saw that a few more kids were up, too. They were most probably on their way to the showers.

“Morning,” I said. “How’d you sleep?”

“Not so good,” she admitted. “The explosions have stopped, though, thanks to Mackenzie and Tamara. They brought in the culprit last night…”

“Really?” I stammered. “Then that’s good, isn’t it?”

Viv seemed to avoid eye contact. “I dunno, Quinn. When he fell for one of Tamara’s traps in the forest, we were able to get a good look at him, and he was wearing a St. John’s uniform…”

And thus, I felt the life drain out of me.

“Wh—where is he?” I asked.

Viv looked up at me with surprise. “Whoa, are you sure?”

“Definitely.” I nodded. “This is my schoolmate, Viv. I need to know what’s going on.”

I explained to her how I, her brother, and Takahiro encountered Cassandra in the forest, how she had possessed Tamara and had left Julio no choice but to fight. I then recalled my stand-off with Bree in another timeline, where I had no control over my body as we were going after each other at knifepoint. I had even called her a scum, which wasn’t very nice.

I left off the part where Cassandra stabbed Rachael. I didn’t want to freak Viv out; she seemed to be pretty close to her, being her brother’s former girlfriend and all.

“Viv,” I then said. There was a sense of dread in my tone. “I dunno if you believe me, but I think Cassandra had taken over that boy and made him send explosives to the Spanish House…”

Viv then looked at me with a great sense of urgency. “Come with me.”

Did that mean she believed me? I took it as a yes.

Viv led me down the stairs and past the foyer where I saw porch tables on fire at the veranda. Indeed, they were pushing my skepticism to its limit, saying, “Hey, you think your dreams aren’t real? Well, look at us and see how you’re wrong!” Viv then opened a door that looked like that of a closet, but when she turned the light on, a flight of stairs going straight down into the darkness appeared before us. The screams I had heard back in Rachael’s room echoed through the tight space.

I gulped. “What’s down there?”

Viv gazed straight into the oblivion. “Oh, nothing to worry about,” she assured me. “Though Kuya would probably kill me if I brought you down there. That’s Mackenzie’s territory.”

So pajama girl’s in charge of torture duty? I thought.

The nightmarish scream sufficed as an answer.

Viv sighed deeply. “Let’s go.”

I made my way uneasily down the steps as Viv lead the way with a flashlight in hand. I was nervous to meet the boy who had set the Spanish House on fire, not just because he was from St. John’s, but because I was frightened to see the torture methods they had at the House. The shrieks and cries were enough to know that they would be anything but pleasant.

At the bottom of the staircase, there was a metal door that looked like it had come straight from a sci-fi movie. There was a launchpad next to it, its buttons blinking like Christmas lights on a suburban house. Viv swiftly tapped on the candy-colored buttons, playing a cute little melody that opened the door.

We entered a small, compact room with no windows. Piles of junk covered the floor and walls, from rusty shelves to broken appliances to candy wrappers. A desk chair stood at the far end of the room, facing a computer with two mismatched screens, the only light sources that room seemed to have. From behind the desk chair, a pair of hands could be seen typing away on a keyboard as screams resonated through the walls of the room.

I shouldn’t have looked any further because I didn’t like what I saw.

Through a foggy glass window, I saw a smaller, more foreboding room with run-down, barren walls that looked like the remains of a bomb shelter. Wires lined the crevices between the walls and the ceilings, making their way to a chair in the middle of the room. Sitting on it was a boy tied up by the ankles and torso by a thick, itchy rope.

And it was Derek, my classmate from Class 3.

He was always looking for trouble, indeed, but I would never have thought that he would rattle someone’s house with explosives. Even that seemed too much for him—for anyone at all, to be exact.

“Tell me again,” a girl’s voice spoke. There was no doubt it was Mackenzie. She had a distinguishable harshness in her tone that made me shiver.

“What were you doing in the forest last night?” Mackenzie then asked them. “Who were you working for?”

Derek wriggled helplessly in the ropes. “I dunno what you’re talking about,” he pleaded.

Mackenzie appeared to ponder their words, but she wasn’t pleased. “I see,” she then purred. “But I’m still not satisfied.”

She typed away on her keyboard, and the ropes around Derek tightened around his chest.

“Mackenzie, enough!” Viv then snapped.

Mackenzie pressed a key, and the ropes stopped tightening around Derek. She then turned her desk chair toward us, giving us a stink eye.

“Oh,” she said rather sarcastically. “If it isn’t my superior’s little sister, Viv.”

She got up from her seat and paced around us. The blue haze from the computer monitors cast shadows on her sinister smile, highlighting a scar just below her chin. The purple pajamas appeared to glow, looking like a radioactive battle suit.

“Unfortunately,” she continued. “It was your dear brother who had ordered this interrogation. I’m just doing my job. This boy has been caught red-handed. Unless he admits to his crimes, I cannot let him go.”

“Please,” Derek cried. “Just let me explain!”

“Silence!” Mackenzie hissed.

Derek obeyed, afraid to do otherwise.

Mackenzie then turned to me, eyeing me from head to toe. “What’s Coffee Girl doing here?” she asked Viv. (That was the most ironic nickname anyone had given me. I didn’t like coffee, but Julio had covered my identity saying that I worked for The MacGuffin, so the name kind of stuck.) “Only authorized personnel are allowed in here.”

“What if I could prove his innocence?” I then said.

Mackenzie chuckled. “And how are you supposed to do that?”

“Look,” I lowered my voice. “Cassandra can possess people. I saw it happen to Tamara in the forest, and—” I gulped. “It happened to me, too…”

She looked at me like I was crazy, and then she glanced at Viv for any kind of affirmation. The young girl nodded.

“I think Cassandra possessed this guy to send those firecrackers to the house,” I continued. “Let’s give him a chance to explain. Or, if you’re too skeptical, we can bring in witnesses. Tamara, Julio, Takahiro… those guys.”

Mackenzie stroked her chin. “Possession, huh? Never heard of anything like it…” She sighed. “But fine. I’ll call the others. Viv, keep an eye on Coffee Girl.”

“Y—yes, ma’am,” Viv squeaked.

“And you…” Mackenzie’s eyes peered into mine. “Since you have so much faith in him”—she glared at Derek—“if anything happens, you’ll be responsible for this.”

I stood tall, held my chin up, and looked as intimidating as possible.

“Fine,” I hissed. “And if you wanna raise the stakes, I suggest you untie the ropes.”

“Fine.”

Mackenzie then briskly made her way to her computer, typed in a few things, and the ropes finally fell from Derek’s torsos and ankles. “You heard her, boy,” she told him. “But we’re not through. I’ll be back.”

And she left the room with a bang—literally. That metal door looked heavy.

I leaned on the glass window that separated me from my classmate. Derek looked tired but mostly afraid. His eyes were bloodshot, and his face and uniform were caked with sweat.

“Hey,” I said. “Are you okay?”

He looked like he wanted to run, to scurry to the far end of the room out of panic, but he didn’t. Instead, he looked up at me in fear, anticipating his next wave of torture.

“Who are you?” he croaked. “What are you gonna do to me?”

“I won’t hurt you,” I replied. “I promise.”

I then took off my beanie, revealing myself—and it was the worse time to do so.

“It’s me,” I declared. “Quinn Vasquez. From Class 3.”

Derek narrowed his eyes. “You… You got us into this mess in the first place!”

He then asked me a series of questions. What was this place? How did he end up here?

And what did I do to him…?

It all made sense. Viv appeared to understand it, too. Before attacking the Spanish House, Cassandra might have appeared before him.

And he thought it was me…