Mark Myriad

“Quiet!”
The voice hissed out the warning the same moment a rough hand clamp over my mouth to prevent me from screaming. Not that the person needed to worry, the terror I feel at waking up in an unfamiliar place with strangers has stolen my voice.
‘Where am I? Where have you taken me? Where are my wife and children?’ I scream in my head, but fear has frozen my mouth in place.
As my eyes adjust to the dark, I’m able to see where they’ve taken me to more clearly. Rubble fills the room, and the far wall no longer exists, allowing me an unrestricted view of the night sky and buildings beyond. The walls that exist are in various states of collapse and wires, and ceiling tiles hang down from the cracked and broken roof. Through the open wall, I can see other buildings in different stages of broken.
'This doesn't look like my house. ' Nor was it any building I was familiar with. It looked like bombed-out cities in old war movies.
“Are you going to keep quiet?” A different but oddly familiar voice asks.
I nod my head, and the hand across my mouth moves away. Carefully I sit up and catch my first glimpse of my kidnappers. The shock at what I’m seeing causes me to freeze halfway into a sitting position.
‘This has to be a dream! This can’t be real!’
The feel of broken stone underneath me and the cold wind tells me I’m wide awake. And yet, I can’t quite believe it as I stare at two men and one woman who looks impossibly familiar. The men, one with long hair and stubble and the other clean-shaven with a crew cut share the same face I see when I look in the mirror. My face. The face of Mark Richmond. And the woman looks like my sister.
‘No, not my sister.’ I think as I glance from her to the men and back. ‘Exactly like me! But as a woman!’
The same light brown hair, the same green eyes, the same lips that naturally curve up on one end, all of it was the same. There were, however, some differences. Both the woman and the man with the long hair are slim in a way I imagine I could be if I didn’t spend so much time going over financial reports or attending my kids’ events. The man with the short hair, however, is built like a linebacker. Additionally, Long Hair has a scar on his mouth while Short Hair’s nose appears to have a few breaks in it. The woman is female, obviously, but she has a tattoo on her neck of what looks like a vine twisting up into her hairline. All of them are wearing the same black outfits, and I lose control of my panic as I see they are all armed.
My terror must be visible because Short Hair clamps his hand over my mouth again and pulls me up into a wholly seated position.
“Stay calm,” he whispers. A voice I have only heard in recordings coming from his mouth. “We will answer all of your questions, but you have to stay quiet.”
Long Hair makes a strangled noise while the woman shakes her head. “You want to do this now?” Long Hair hisses.
Short Hair glares at him before looking back at me. “Do you understand?”
I still feel like I’m about to scream, but I nod doing my best to swallow my terror.
“W-where is my wife? My children?” I ask shakily when the hand leaves my mouth.
“Not here,” Long Hair says shortly.
Both of his companions glare at him.
“Don’t worry,” the woman begins. It's strange listening to her voice. It sounds like what I would imagine my sister’s and my voices would sound like if we combined them. “They’re warm and safe in their beds back home.”
“How? Wh-” I’m not able to keep my voice down as I ask my second question. As my voice rises above a whisper, I see all three of them looking around warily. I clear my throat and ask again quieter this time. “Where am I?”
“Both are long stories,” the woman says.
She tilts her head to the side as if she were listening to something as do the other two. It takes a moment, but I can hear the faint sounds of a helicopter.
“And we are out of time,” Long Hair quips.
Short Hair pulls me to my feet as Long hair rummages through his gear. “Put these on.” Long Hair continues as he tosses a bundle at me. “Unless you want everyone to see our family jewels.”
I blink in confusion before I realize I can feel the cold air on my skin. On every inch of my skin. I flush in embarrassment and must fight the instinct to cover myself with the bundle thrown at me. But, the way the three keep worriedly glancing at the open wall makes me hurriedly pull on the sweatpants, sweatshirt, and boots. The pants and shirt are slightly baggy, but the shoes are the exact right size. As I finish pulling the shoes on, Short Hair grabs my arm and begins pulling me out of the room.
“Who’s everyone?” I ask as I stumble forward. “And who are you?”
“We’re you, duh,” Long Hair says as he and the woman move behind me creating a triangle formation with Short Hair as we move down a hallway.
“But- Ho- ”
The question dies in my throat as the wall in front of us explodes and what sounds like firecrackers going off hits my ears. I’m dragged to the ground by all three as I realize someone is shooting at us! My heart seems about ready to hammer out of my chest as I’m pulled to a nearby room.
“This is just a dream! Wake up! Wake up!” I mutter to myself as I squeeze my eyes shut and curl up into a ball.
The sound of sudden gunfire near me makes me jump, and the firing from out in the hall become louder.
‘God! Jesus! Buddha! Allah! Please! If any of you can hear me! Let me wake up from this nightmare!’ Wet fabric against my legs tells me I’ve pissed myself, but I barely pay that any mind as I pray.
As the exchange of bullets continues, my prayers turn into incoherent mental screaming as I press my back against a wall and make myself as small as possible. I’m sure that every spray of bullets will end my life, but the amount of gunfire from down the hall gradually lessens. Thankfully, I don’t hear any cries of pain nearby. I might not know what’s going on, but the three duplicates seem to want to keep me alive. So, these three staying alive is a good thing. Right? The volume of gunfire lessens to where I can hear cries of pain from down the hall. Cries in very familiar voices. Eventually, the shooting from down the hallway ends, and all I can hear are groans of pain, a ringing in my ears, and my own incoherent mumbling.
I’m shaking like a leaf as I’m pulled to my feet. My knees are trembling so badly they buckle the moment I’m standing, and I feel two sets of hands catch me and haul me back onto my feet.
“Ew gross! He pissed himself!” My eyes are still shut, but I’m sure it’s Long Hair who says this.
“You weren’t any better in your first gunfight, Thief!” I think I hear Short Hair snap.
“The fighting is over, you can open your eyes now,” the Woman says soothingly.
Fearfully, I do as she says. Long Hair and Short Hair are glaring at each other on either side of me as they each hold one of my arms. The woman is standing before me, still holding her gun with a thoughtful expression on her face. Everything goes blurry, and I suddenly feel lightheaded.
“No!” The woman yells as my body goes slack.
Suddenly, I feel myself being shaken and slapped across the face. The pain and the shaking rouse me, and I sluggishly stare at the woman’s face.
“Sorry,” she says, lowering her glove covered hand. “But you can’t go back just yet.”
“I say let him,” Short Hair mutters as I regain my footing. “He’s dead weight regardless of if he’s here or there.”
“We can’t let them have him. You know what they would do!” Short Hair snarls.
“Enough! We need to go, remember?” The woman asks rhetorically as she peers out into the hall. She looks both ways, pointing her gun in the same direction she looks before moving out of the room.
Long Hair grumbles but says nothing as both he and Short Hair push me out of the room. The hallway is riddled with bullet holes, and I see a makeshift barricade made from what used to be filing cabinets, at the end. Holes riddle the cabinets, and bodies surround them. To my horror, I realize some bodies are still moving as we draw closer, and I can see some people trying to crawl away. Short Hair comes to a stop as we pass the survivors as we enter a new hallway, forcing the other two to stop.
“Please,” one survivor says, holding a hand out to us.
Horror floods me as I realize that just like Short Hair and Long Hair, this person is me! I can’t see their face because of a mask, and they’re wearing fatigues, but from the voice alone I know this is another duplicate of me. As I stare at this new duplicate in shock, I realize he isn’t wearing body armor. The front of his fatigues, one of his arms, and a leg have large dark splotches on them.
“H- He’s been shot! W- T- One of you shot him!” I stutter out, my voice rising in pitch towards the end.
Long Hair looks at me with a raised eyebrow and opens his mouth to say something, but the woman hits him before he can.
“D- Don’t let me go back! Please!” The survivor pleads.
Short Hair says nothing just nods, pulls out a handgun, and shoots him. My vision blurs and then goes black.
When I open my eyes, I’m covered in sweat and shaking. Sitting up, I realize I’m back in my home and my bed. Next, to me, my wife stirs and wakes up.
“Mark?” Vicki murmurs still mostly asleep.
I feel the bed shift as she rolls over, her hand clumsily grasps first at my hip and then moving up to my arm. I regain my wits enough to realize I’ve wet the bed before my vision blurs and goes black once more.
This time when I open my eyes, I nearly shriek in terror as I stare at the faces of Long Hair and the woman.
“Sorry,” she says, tossing something to the side. “We had to bring you back.”
“Still don’t understand why,” Long Hair grumbles as he backs away “Doesn’t look like he’ll be of any use.”
“You know why.”
Reluctantly, I let the woman pull me up onto my feet as I take in the crumbling building once more. The walls are riddled with bullets, and there are still several black cloth-covered bodies lying around. I frown and squint as I look around for the wounded soldier who was pleading. It takes a moment, but I realize the man is in roughly the same spot. Only now he’s lying face down, and there’s a pool of blood spreading under his head. I’m vomiting before I realize what’s happening and bend over, coughing and gagging as stomach acid burns my throat. The woman is still pulling me along as I’m sick, and suddenly, a fit of stubborn anger rises within me.
“No!” I plant my feet and try to wrench my arm free of her grasp. I only make her stumble to a stop, but her hand still firmly grasps my arm. “I’m not going any further until you tell me what’s going on!”
Short Hair and the woman look at me with exasperation while Long Hair looks at his two companions with a look that screams ‘I told you so.’
“Who are all of you? Who is shooting at us? Why are they shooting at me? I have done nothing except being dragged around by you three! And why did you have to kill them?” I fling my free hand back toward the dead duplicates. “But most of all, HOW DID I GET HERE!? And WHERE IS HERE?”
The three wince as my voice rises and nervously glance about, but I don’t care. I want to go back to my bed with my wife and not spend a second longer here than needed. Where ever here was.
“Well, Cap? Marcia? What should we do?” Long Hair asks looking from Short Hair to the woman.
"They are shooting at us because we are trying to protect the newest Mark brought to this hell," Short Hair explains quietly. "And they are shooting at you because their bosses have told them it doesn't matter if you live or die so long as you don't join us. Does that satisfy your curiosity enough so we can move on? Or do we need to keep talking until their reinforcements show up?"
I'm stunned and horrified by what I'm hearing and as much as I want to question them further, the other soldiers' lack of concern that I was in the line of fire tells me Short Hair is at least being truthful about the motivations of both groups. I nod shakily, and they guide me down to the second floor of the building and hurry me across what remains of a sky bridge to the next building. A helicopter, presumably the one I heard earlier, flew overhead sweeping the area with a searchlight. Off in the distance, I could see spotlights from other helicopters and listened to what sounded like dozens coming closer. On the ground below us, the searchlight illuminated dozens of black-clad figures running towards both the building we just came from and the one we're moving toward.
"They're going to the building!" I gasp for breath between each word.
"We know," Long Hair snaps at the same time Short Hair barks "Move!" and Marcia hisses "Quiet!"
Marcia’s hand on my arm and Long Hair’s hands on my back are the only things allowing me to keep up with the pace. Sweat is pouring down my face, my lungs are on fire, I’m gulping down huge breaths of air, and I’m positive I can feel my heart beating in every major artery as we rush into the building.
'Should have listened to my doctor about exercising more,' I think as the force of Short Hair's push becomes stronger.
This building, like the previous one, is a rubble-strewn office building with enough holes in the floor, walls, and ceiling, I can easily hear voices coming from the ground floor. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, and it feels like actual shards of ice are being driven into my back as fear floods through me, and I'm sure another burst of gunfire will erupt at any moment. My fear comes true as we approach an area divided by what appeared to be a series of conference rooms with glass walls. Cracks spiderweb the glass and covered in dust and dirt, but I still see a group of the black body armor-clad soldiers burst through a door further on. Once again, my three lookalikes pull me to the ground and under a hail of gunfire, half-drag half-push me into a nearby office. I want to crawl into the corner and make myself as small as possible, but fear locks my body in place, and the exertion I put it under makes everything below my waist feel like putty.
Short Hair stands in the doorway, firing at our attackers while Long Hair and Marcia drag me further into the room. I expect them to leave me and rejoin Short Hair. Instead, they pull me further into the room. I can hear them whispering to each other, but I can't hear anything except for guns firing. Before I can think of anything other than not getting shot, they have pulled me to the back corner of the room.
"Mark?" Marcia whispers. She speaks close to my ear, but the gunfire still almost drowns the word out. "I need you to stand up, okay? This next bit will go a lot easier if you're moving under your own power rather than us pushing you around."
"You're such a teacher," Long Hair laughs.
Terror is still flooding through me, but I push aside my fear of a stray bullet hitting me and shakily sit up. As I do, I realize we are on the edge of a hole created when a wall on the first floor collapsed.
"Let's go," Long Hair claps me hard on the shoulder making me stagger and jumps down through the hole.
I stare down at him in shock, and suddenly it hits me that jumping down into the hole was what Marcia had been talking about when she spoke of the next bit being 'easier.' A wave of vertigo hits me as I stare down at the rubble-covered floor below, and memories from when I broke my arm after falling out of a tree flash through my mind. The tree, if I remember correctly, was shorter than the distance Long Hair had jumped. But realizing this is the only way out of the room not blocked by a storm of bullets, I move onto my stomach and carefully easy my lower half down.
"Seriously?" I hear Long Hair ask from below, but I ignore him as I continue until my arms and upper chest are the only things holding me up.
A pair of hands touch my waist and, trusting that my doppelganger won't let me fall and crack my head open, I let myself fall. Long Hair does his best to guide me down, but I still land awkwardly on two different sized pieces of rubble and nearly pull both of us down. As I regain my balance, Marcia jumps down onto the ground beside us, landing much more solid than I did.
"You got him from here?" Long Hair asks looking directly at Marcia.
Half a dozen emotions flash across her face too fast for me to name before she nods. "Yeah, I got him. We'll meet up at that pile of rubble near where we entered from. You two have fifteen minutes."
Long Hair nods before jumping up, grabbing the edge of the hole we'd just jumped down through, and in a display of athleticism, I could only dream of pulling off pulls himself back up onto the second floor. I stand there staring in shock and amazement even after Long Hair has disappeared from view until I feel a sharp tug on my arm.
"We have to keep moving," Marcia says as she continues to pull on my arm.
I stumble after her listening to the gunfire above us, trying to hear if there's any difference in the guns being fires by Long Hair and Short Hair and the people trying to kill all of us. But if there is a way to hear any difference, I don't have enough experience to make it out. It all sort of blends together to make a lot of noise.
The ground floor is more intact than the upper two floors, which soon becomes both a blessing and a curse as Marcia and I can hide behind relatively stable walls. But, the solid walls also give the enemy soldiers something to hide behind. More than once, Marcia has me stay behind a wall while she goes to scout the section ahead. Each time, I am half convinced I will hear a burst of gunfire and I’ll be all alone on the first floor while the soldiers try to find me. Thankfully, Marcia returns each time after a few minutes with no incident. The first floor is no more significant than the size of an average office building, but we take at least twice as long to reach a half-destroyed section of wall we can slip out of because of Marcia’s precaution.
The moment we step outside, I immediately want to go back inside as a searchlight sweeps past the road in front of us. Even as I take a step back, Marcia pulls me to the side, guiding me along the bottom of the building. Eventually, we reach a pile of rubble next to the building that shields us on two sides. She pushes me up against the wreckage, placing herself between me and the two open sides. I feel utterly useless as she scans the street with her gun, but I know that even with no military training, I would be more of a danger to her than the soldiers. Time seems to crawl by as we wait for any sign of Long Hair and Short Hair, and as more helicopters join overhead, I become more and more confident someone will spot us. Finally, two figures emerge from the same hole we came through. I rise and wave at them, but Marcia shoves me back down and trains her gun on them. Both stop short, still undercover, with their hands up.
"Tell me something only Slick, and Cap would know about me."
"You've taught fifth-grade math for over a decade and have lead River Fork Elementary's mathletes to victory four years running," Short Hair says seemingly out of nowhere.
"You've lived in Colorado Springs for fifteen years. You live with two dogs, a cat, and your partner Layla. And your idea of date night is to go rock climbing," Long Hair says the moment Short Hair stops talking.
Marcia lowers her gun and lets me stand up. "You two had me worried for a second."
"Aw, I'm touched," Long Hair quips as they join us.
Short hair scans the surrounding area before nodding at a building next to us. "Over there, let's move."
Once again, the three forms a triangle around me. With Short Hair in front, pulling on my arm, and Long Hair and Marcia behind me, a hand on each of my shoulders pushing me forward. Once again, my body shows signs of exertion within a few short moments, and I feel embarrassed by how out of shape I've become from years of sitting behind a desk for hours on end. But, the pushing and pulling from my doppelgangers help keep me moving at a quick pace. Several times we are forced to come to a stop and duck behind whatever cover is available as a searchlight comes sweeping by a little too close or a group of soldiers pours out of a nearby building. Each time, I try to reduce the sound of my labored breathing by covering my mouth with my hands, but I am convinced my breathing is still too loud and will cause us to become caught. Aside from one near-miss where a group of soldiers and a searchlight come from opposite sides, we slip by without no one noticing.
Finally, we reach what I assume is our destination, a four-way road with a maintenance hole in the center. Short hair and Marcia stand guard while Long Hair rummages through his gear once more. Eventually, he pulls out two strange hook-like pieces of metal and inserts both into the holes on the cover.
"Cap," he calls to Short Hair who moves towards one of the hook things.
As the two leverage the utility hole cover off, I have a sneaking suspicion where we’re going next, and for the first time since I arrived here, I feel something more strongly than fear: disgust.
"Quickly," Marcia ushers me towards the now open sewer.
"You want me to go down there?" I ask wrinkling my nose as I peer down into the sewer. I can't see anything in the darkness below, but my mind does an excellent job of filling the void with all kinds of disgusting imagery that almost makes me gag.
"It's the-"
Those two words are the only thing I hear out of Marcia's mouth before I'm suddenly shoved from behind and topple into the sewer. I scream in panic as I fall, enveloped in total darkness. Only when I hit the water, and vile liquid fills my mouth do I think I should have kept my mouth closed. The impact on the water knocks the wind out of me, thankfully ejecting the small amount of water that had entered my mouth, and I crack my head against something as I scrabble to surface. When my head finally breaks the surface, I try to gulp down as much air as I can while just barely keeping the impulse to vomit at bay.
'I don't want to know. I don't want to know. I don't want to know.' I repeat over and over to myself as I refuse to think about what might have just entered my mouth.
Light hits my closed eyes as I hear splashing coming towards me.
"Mark? Are you all right?" I hear Marcia ask.
I open my eyes, squinting in the light that I realize is emanating from a flashlight attached to her body armor and try to get something out, but all I can do is wheeze, so I nod. In the flashlight's light, I can see the relief wash over her face, and she guides me towards a section of the concrete walkway running alongside the water I’d fallen in. Soaking wet, and desperately wishing this was all just a fever dream, I haul myself up out of the water and watch Short Hair and Long Hair pull the maintenance hole cover back on while balancing precariously on the ladder. They too have flashlights on their body armor turned on. Marcia crouches beside me, carefully examining where I’d hit my head. The only sound I can hear is the grinding of iron on the street as they move the cover back into place. Once it’s closed, however, the silence is shattered.
"Why would you do something so reckless?" Marcia hisses glaring at Long Hair as he descends.
I suddenly realize Long Hair had pushed me into the sewer and I'm both shocked that he would do that and appalled that I'm shocked. After all, he's been the most dismissive of me.
"That scream will attract every solder within hearing distance," Short Hair snaps.
"I'm sorry, okay? It was the only thing I could think of that wouldn't involve us standing around for five minutes trying to convince him to get in the damn sewer," Long Hair snaps back.
"What if he landed headfirst on concrete?" Marcia asks. "You're lucky he's only sustained a small welt on his head."
"There's no way he could have hit anything except sewer water! I remembered what it looked like from when we came through earlier."
“What if he’d hit his head on the ladder and fallen unconscious before hitting the water?” Short Hair asks. “Or landed in a shallow part?”
"Then we would have gotten rid of the dead weight."
“And we would have risked our lives for nothing!” Short hair snarls getting into Long Hair’s face. “I know you don’t care about anyone who isn’t of use to you, Thief, but I want to keep as many of us as safe as I can.”
"And while you're doing that, we're wasting tons of resources we could use to fight them," Long Hair yells back, gesturing at the street above us.
"Boys!" Marcia calls out as she helps me to my feet. "That's enough! You two can sort out your issues when we get back to base. We need to go." She doesn't wait for them to acknowledge her before pulling out a device that looks like a thick smartphone. "This way." She gestures with her hand and begins pulling me along.
The other two silently join us, with the three once again forming a triangle around me.
"Sorry Teach," Long Hair mumbles after a few minutes.
"I apologize as well Marcia," Short Hair adds.
She glances over her shoulder at them and gives them a wan smile before looking forward once more. We continue through what seems like an endless maze of the sewer system, with Marcia guiding us without hesitation. When I slow down, Long Hair and Short Hair push me along once more, not letting me ease up for even a moment. My feet ache, my calves feel like they’re being torn to shreds, my lungs burn, and my heart feels like it will burst. Yet, we continue on and on and on until my vision spins. I stumble over my feet for what must be the hundredth time, but this time even my three doppelgangers can’t keep me standing as I fall to the floor. The concrete feels cold and damp against my cheek as I struggle to regain my breath. My limbs alternately feel like they are on fire or like they are separate from me, and I have no control over them. I feel two pairs of hands, that I assume belongs to Short Hair and Long Hair, grab my upper arms and my waist and attempt to pull me onto my feet. They haul me up, but the moment they let go, my legs give way like cooked noodles, and I am back on the cold ground.
'Will they leave me here if I can't get back up?' I know Long Hair will jump at the chance, but what about the other two? Would they leave me behind if I prove to be too much of a burden?
I'm so out of it; I don't realize Marcia has crouched in front of me until I feel hands on my face, and I meet her compassionate gaze. 'She won't leave me behind'
"He's reached his limit. We need to take a short break," Marcia says, looking up at the other two.
I hear a snort I know is from Long Hair as Short Hair replies. "It isn't safe. Who knows how long it took the others to realize we were in the sewers? They could be right behind us."
"We know they don't have the sewers mapped out as we do," Marcia counters. "They have to search every path and every bend. It will take ages for them to catch up to us."
"We've got a time limit you know," Long Hair reminded her.
"They will wait for us until shortly before dawn," She states. "We have hours until then. We can spend a few minutes letting him catch his breath."
"Fine," Short Hair says. "But over there."
I turn my head to follow the direction he’s pointing and see a small alcove that even I can see the three of them could easily defend if Marcia is wrong and the other soldiers catch up to us. My legs still feel like they are under their own power, so the three have to half-carry half-drag me to the alcove. Silence descends upon us the moment they drop me, and Short Hair and Long Hair take positions at the ‘entrance’ to the alcove.
"So, you're a math teacher?" I ask between breaths when the silence becomes unbearable.
Marcia looks a bit surprised I remember that small detail with everything that's been going on but nods with a smile.
"I'm an accountant," I continue.
“Oh, that’s- “I hear Long Hair say before short Hair elbows him.
“Really?” Marcia asks. “What made you chose that profession?’
"I fell out of a tree when I was a kid and broke my arm," I reply, smiling at the memory. “While I was recovering, I realized I liked math.”
Marcia smiles, looking amused. "A similar thing happened to me."
"What?'
“You were nine, right? It was an old oak in the front yard, right? You climbed it to get a frisbee your sister got stuck in there, right?” “Exactly,” I feel like she has turned my entire world upside down. “Except it was a kite.”
"Ah, that probably explains the difference. I only sprained my wrist instead of breaking the arm."
"So," I say as I sit up. "Did all of us fall out of a tree as a kid?"
“No,” Short Hair says. “I climbed up and backed down with no issue. Joined the boy scouts a week later.”
"Didn't have a tree," Long Hair said. "Mom, sis, and I lived in an apartment with Mom's boyfriend, Dan. He taught me how to scam rich assholes out of their money."
"And carjacking, breaking and entering, petty theft, and any other minor crime imaginable. Regardless of who you steal from Thief, it's still a crime, and you should be locked up both here and there." Short Hair said with the tone of someone who's retreading an old argument.
"You're just mad because the same rich assholes scammed you into joining the military."
"What happened to Dad?" I interrupt, curious to find out how Dan came into the picture.
"Huh? Oh, He died in a car crash when I was six," Long Hair replied.
I stare in amazement at Long Hair. “My dad was in a car accident too, but the other driver only clipped the front of his car.”
“Yeah well, in my world Dad was driving faster, and the other car hit the driver’s side straight on.”
'This is incredible!' I think. 'One small event slightly differs, and all of us are sent on a different path. How else could my life have been changed with a slight alteration?' Suddenly, I want to run back the way we came and ask the other soldiers how their lives differed from mine. But then I remember how Short Hair had killed those injured doppelgangers, and I remember a question that has gone unanswered.
"Those other soldiers, the wounded ones I mean. Why did you kill them? I know the one asked for it, but surely the others could have been helped?"
Short Hair looks back over his shoulder at me for a moment before sighing. “Even if we could have somehow taken them with us, they wouldn’t have lasted long.” He turns to look thoroughly at me and taps his head where I hit my head. “Anything that happens to us here happens to us in our world. So that knot on your head has appeared on your body back in your world.”
"Yeah, and you're also lying in a pool of your piss," Long Hair snickers.
“So,” Short Hair continues, ignoring Long Hair. “Wounds that serious would be equally serious in their world and unless they get help over there and here, they will bleed out and die.”
I shiver as I imagine my body drowning in my world seemingly on nothing as I drown because I fell unconscious when Long Hair pushed me into the sewer.
"We've rested long enough," Short Hair declares. "Let's keep going."
Marcia looks at me with a questioning look, silently asking if I’m ready and even though my legs still hurt, I nod my head and get back up on my feet. Now that I know how bad it could be if the others catch up to us, I want to put as much distance between them and us as possible. We continue with Marcia guiding us and the other two behind me, although I notice she purposely slows down likely to give me a break. The winding path we follow seems, at least to me, to be almost at random, but must follow a specific way on the device Marcia’s carrying. Eventually, we come to a stop next to a rusty, broken, ladder. Thankfully, there is no cover, so getting onto the street should be fine, but that ladder looks like it will break at any second.
"We're here," she announces.
Long Hair moves over to the ladder and tugs on the highest rung he can reach, the piece of metal breaks off instantly.
"Great," he mutters, staring at the piece of rust metal in his hand.
"Come on," Short Hair said as he came to stand next to Long Hair. "I'll give you a boost," As he spoke, he bent his knees and laced his hands together in front of him.
With the said boost, Long Hair grabbed onto the rim of the maintenance hole and pulled himself out.
"Let's go," Marcia said, nudging me forward.
With a bit of fumbling on my part, Short Hair gives me a boost as well, but unlike Long Hair, I had to grab onto the broken ladder and Long Hair's outstretched hand. The ladder creaked ominously as Long Hair pulled me up and out of the sewer. Once I was out of the sewer, I moved away a few feet to not get in the way. Looking around, I saw we were on the outskirts of the ruined city. Far off, I could see many helicopters encircling the area we had been before. Turning away, I watched as Marcia and then Short Hair made their way out of the sewer, and the two men replaced the cover that lay off to the side.
"So, where are they?" Long Hair asks, looking around.
Even as he spoke, yet another person wearing a familiar face popped up from behind a large object.
"Slick! Cap! Marcia!" the figure whisper-shouts, "Over here!"
"They're there," Marcia says to Long Hair gesturing at the person.
As we move to the new doppelganger, I realize they hadn't appeared from behind the object but from inside the object as what I had thought was a large rock or some other inanimate object was, in fact, a vehicle that Marcia ushered me inside. Once inside, I realized the car was like a strange hybrid between a mini-van and a compact car with the number of seats and rows of a minivan but the size and compactness of a small car. Marcia and I sat in the back row while Short Hair and Long Hair sat in the second row and the new doppelganger slipped into the driver's seat.
"Hey, new Mark," they greeted, turning around in their seat to look at me. "I'm Morgan."
This new doppelganger has an androgynous look about them I can’t tell if they created it using makeup or plastic surgery, but regardless I do not feel I could refer to them as either male or female. And their name does not help any.
"Hello, Morgan," I greet with a slight wave.
Morgan grinned back at me before turning around to the darkened windshield. When they started the vehicle up, however, the windshield came to life showing a view similar to what I'd seen on tv shows when they used a night vision camera. The vehicle hummed in an almost alien way compared to the cars I was used to as Morgan turned us around and guided us onto the road.
"All right," Short Hair began, turning around to look at me. "Now we can answer whatever questions you want to be answered. First, as we mentioned before and as I'm sure you've figured out by now, we," he gestures at himself, Long Hair, Marcia, and Morgan, "are different versions of you from different worlds. Like you, we were brought to this world one night when we slept."
“That is a long and complicated story,” Marcia says. “But we will try to make it short and concise.”
“There are different versions of Mark with each one as unique as their world," Short Hair continues, "The Mark from this world-“
“We call him Mark-Prime,” Long-Hair interjects. “Just to keep things from being too confusing.”
"How? Why?" I ask.
"In this world," Short Hair continues shortly, annoyance clear in his voice. "A mysterious and deadly creature from space attacked Earth destroying most of humanity, including Mark-Prime."
"So, that's why that city looks like that?" I gesture back towards the ruins.
Marcia nods. "Yes."
"Geez," I mutter. 'how powerful were these aliens?'
"Such a shame to see Denver looking like that," Morgan pipes up from the front.
I stare at them in shock before turning around to look at the city we'd just left. It's no use, as aside from the windshield there's no way to see outside the vehicle, but I still stare in shock at where I assume the city is behind us.
"That was Denver?" I ask, utterly stunned that that ruin was the place Vicki, and I had settled down.
"Pretty much every city looks like that," Long Hair says.
“Back to what I was saying,” Short Hair thunders. “Before Mark-Prime’s death, his father was working on creating a machine to connect to different dimensions hoping to bring more people in to fight the creature that had destroyed so much. After Mark-Prime’s death, however, his father became so distraught he reprogrammed the machine to pull his son back from death.”
"Theoretically, it could have been used to bring everyone back from the dead if it had worked," Marcia began. "But-"
"But dear old Dad miscalculated," Long Hair interrupted. "Instead of pulling his son from the afterlife, it brought a different version of Mark, let's call him Mark-Second to this world."
"How?" I ask stunned.
“When people enter REM sleep, they emit a particular brain wave unique to themselves,” Short Hair explained. “Before his death, Mark-Prime’s father made a copy of his brainwave and tried to use that to bring him back. Instead, it locked onto Mark-Second as the brainwaves of people are identical across dimensions. Although it hadn’t brought back ‘his’ Mark, Mark-Second was a seasoned mercenary who proved to be invaluable to the remaining forces of humanity. He brought other versions of Mark over and eventually; there were thousands of us fighting alongside the forces of humanity. Along with their physical selves, these duplicates brought with them different pieces of technology not found in this world, and after some time, our copies and the remaining military forces of this world could defeat the creature. But-“
“But that’s when shit hit the fans,” Long Hair interrupted. “See, not all the Marks brought over were good people. So long as the creature remained, they had a common enemy, but when the creature died, these individuals had no reason to stay good. And a group of them let by Mark-32 tried to take control of the machine so they could reprogram it to take them to different worlds.”
"Is that even possible?" I ask.
Long Hair shrugs. “No idea. The current working theory is that for worlds like this where that version’s Mark is dead, it would bring the double that uses the machine to it as it brought here us. But, if a Mark already exists, the double that uses the machine will either take over that Mark’s body or would share a body with that Mark. Regardless, the double would then have access to whatever technology is available in that world and how to make that tech.”
“And, the duplicate could then take that tech back to their worlds or any other world and use it to take over,” Short Hair continues. “Thankfully, the machine was hidden in a location none of us know by Mark-Second. Unfortunately, during the initial attack by Mark-32 and his group, they damaged the machine preventing it from being turned off.”
"Which is how you and hundreds of other versions of us have come to be here," Marcia said. "So long as the machine is on, it will continue to search for the specific brain wave that matches Mark-Prime until it runs out of duplicates."
"So why not just destroy the machine?" I ask.
“Well, one we don’t know where it is,” Long Hair replied. “And two, we don’t know what would happen if they destroyed the machine. It could send us all back to our worlds. It could trap us here. Or it could bring every duplicate in existence to this world all at once.”
"Couldn't we ask our father in this world?"
“He died right before we defeated the creature,” Marcia murmured.
"Oh."
"So, because the machine is constantly running, new duplicates constantly appear throughout the world and while we do our best to get to them before the other side does we're not always successful," She continued. "Tonight was a very close call."
"What would have happened if the other side had gotten to me first?"
"You would have been pressed into service for them and used as a meat shield for their soldiers and explorers," Short Hair replied shortly. "Mark-32 and his subordinates don't care about how many dies because of them so long as they can find the machine and fulfill their dark desires."
"Hate to bring this depressing conversation to an end," Morgan says. "But we've arrived."
Long Hair and Short Hair hop out of the vehicle and Marcia, and I follow. The building we’ve stopped in front of is underground with a massive metal door as the only apparent entrance. On either side of this door are dozens of massive guns that look like they could quickly vaporize me. Milling about these guns is dozens of doppelgangers — men, women, and non-binaries all with faces similar to my own. Entering the building, we pass by even more doppelgangers and eventually arrive in a room that reminds me of photos and videos I’ve seen of NASA’s control room.
"And you?" I ask looking at the three doppelgangers who have kept me safe all night. "What would you have me do?"
"You will be tasked with something that suits your abilities and be allowed to stay here," Short Hair says. "But you would also be trained to fight in case this place is attacked, or we have no choice but to include you in a mission."
“We would love for you to join our fight,” Marcia begins. “But if you, like many of our duplicates, say ‘no’ we will respect your choice and place you in a medically induced coma, and you can go about your life like normal.”
"A medically induced coma? Is that safe?" I remember Short Hair's comment about how any injuries transfer over to my real body.
“Yep,” Long Hair says making the ‘p’ pop. “Back when we were fighting the creature, and discovered injuries transferred, several doubles wanted to leave the fight. Dear old Dad tested placing people in comas for various lengths of time and bringing them back. All of them said they only experienced constant mild fatigue and bleeding from where the IV was but nothing beyond that.”
"So," Short Hair begins. "Will you help us?"
I think back on everything they told me. About the machine this world’s version of Mark’s father built out of grief and a desire to get his dead son back. About the war that’s broken out between the Marks who want to use the machine to invade other worlds and the duplicates who wish to find the device and fix it so it can stop pulling random versions of us into this world. How injuries I sustain will appear in my world, and any serious injuries will automatically result in me being shot in the head, so I don’t ‘suffer’ a slow death in my world. How the other side doesn’t honestly want me, they just want another body to fill their ranks and will use Marks who have no skill in combat as meat shields while this side wants to at keep as many of us safe as they can.
Short Hair said if I joined I wouldn’t be made to fight, but that they would train me how to do so just in case and Marcia said I could be put to into a coma here and that would prevent me from returning anytime I fall asleep in my world. But I remember the comment Long Hair made about resources running low and how Marcia pulled me back into this world after I fainted and I can’t help but wonder how reliable her word is. Yes, they may keep me in a coma for the time being but what happens if they run low on supplies or if this group splinters between those who share Long Hair’s opinions and those who share Short Hair’s views. What’s keeping them from waking us up then and making us fight? They say they want to keep as many of us as safe as possible but how far can this side be pushed before they become like the other side? Before they also make new doppelgangers fight for them regardless of skill or ability.
I think of my beautiful wife Vicki and how I want to grow old with her and watch our kids grow up. And I wonder if a better way to do that is to say no and hope this side keeps their word or to say yes and not have to worry about being randomly brought back but having to worry about being sent out to fight and possibly die. Neither is a good option, and neither has a guarantee that my life won’t be cut short. I wish Vicki were here so I could discuss my options with her, she’s always been the optimist to my pessimist, and I can’t see anything but adverse outcomes. Still, if I can delay my potential death for even a few years, I will.
"No."