My final entry for the SciFi Smackdown. It is 9k words long and I had two music videos to base my story & characters on-- Clockwork Dolls, The Iron Rose & Blink 182's Aliens Exist.

Blink 182 aside, I hope it jerks on your heart strings a bit, makes you laugh a bit more and makes you think the most. Happy Reading

The Iron Rose

SP Parish

(c) 2013 

“Ci!” his mother called out the open back door, “You and Ryan come in. Dinner’s ready.” At the promise of food, the two young boys raced through the door, attacking the hotdogs with the vengeance of a growing boy’s metabolism. “Slow down, guys.” Ci’s mother prompted. “Would hate to have to do the Heimlich.” 

Ryan looked up from his plate of half-eaten food, “What’s the Heimlich?” he asked.

Without slowing down, Ci answered him. “It’s what they do when you’re chocking,” he explained, putting his hands into a fist shape in front of him and pulling back just below his own ribs. “We had a firefighter in Miss Jessip’s class. He showed us. It was cool.” Ci stressed the last word, eyes going wide.

Ryan’s face pinched, “Man,” he swore, “Firefighters don’t come see us.”

“Don’t worry, Ryan,” Ci said, putting his hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “Next year, you’ll be a fourth grader. That’s when things get good.” Just like that, all was forgotten. The boys rushed to shove the last of the chips into their mouths and jetted back outside to make the most of the remaining daylight. It was summer, and summer was filled with freedoms they had not known before—endless play, sleepovers, baseball, and late nights. It was an ongoing adventure, and Ryan and Ci were nothing if not up for the challenge of tackling it all.

As the sun fell, the red-faced boys found themselves moving  more slowly. The darkness of the late summer night finally ascended, and the tired boys headed inside.

Readying their sleeping bags, Ci dug through the movies on the shelf. “What do you want to watch, Ryan?” 

His friend’s head hit his pillow, digging in, “It doesn’t matter,” he responded quietly. Ci knew it would only be moments before he was gone. Running his finger along the titles, Ci stopped on one that was unfamiliar. “Alien,” he said curiously. It must have been his mother’s. He looked at the simple cover, and shrugged once. Removing the disc from its case, he slid it into the player, making his way wearily back to his makeshift pallet bed.

Ryan’s soft breathing drifted up to Ci’s ears as he pushed the remote’s buttons and settled in to fall asleep.

Adrenaline kicked through his body as sharp clicking noises from the television ransacked the quiet space, stirring him from his fatigued state.

Ci bolted awake, all signs of fatigue disappeared as he became caught up in the slow, dramatic action on the screen.

This thing rounded the corner, all teeth and eyes. Ci sat up, his knuckles white around his blanket. He sucked in a terrified breath as the scene quickly switched away from the monster. Ci clutched his pillow to his chest as the story continued. His little body was as stiff as a board, careful not to move anything but his chest in soft, almost cautious breaths.

Suddenly, there was a man on the table, bucking like he was in pain. Ci grimaced as the astronauts tried to hold him down. The blood on the man’s chest caused Ci to flinch. Still, he was unable to close his eyes against the scene unfolding in front of him.

The man bucked again. One of the ladies screamed. What was…

“Ci?” The boy jumped as his mother flipped on the light of the living room. “What are you watching?” He looked back to the movie only to find a snake with huge teeth on the screen. He looked between the movie and his mother wordlessly.

“Ci,” his mother started, heading towards the television and switching it off. She ejected the disc, “Alien? Where did you get this?”

He gulped, “It was on the shelf.”

“You shouldn’t be watching this,” she explained. “It’s a grown up movie.” She walked over to him, took his pillow, and placed it behind his head. Ci leaned back, sliding further under his thin summer blankets. She smoothed the hair back from his forehead, “Time for sleep,” she said sternly. Ci nodded once. His mother walked out the door, flipping off the light, and leaving him in darkness.

The bright summer moon shone through the kitchen window behind him. In moments, Ci’s eyes adjusted. Not the least bit sleepy, he took in his surroundings, over and over, careful to move only his eyes, less something notice him. Energy coursed through his body as he strained his senses for signs of life. There was nothing save Ryan’s breathing, heavy with sleep.

How could he sleep at a time like this? Ci thought. Doesn’t he know what’s out there? Ci searched the room over again as his eyelids grew heavy. He jolted awake as a car passed outside. He rolled his eyes. This is stupid. There’s nothing to be afraid of. With that he fell into a sound, fitful, sleep.

Crash!

Ci jolted awake. The room was dark, the air heavy with moisture. The pitter-patter of fat raindrops sounded on the porch outside. His mother must have left the window open over the sink. It wasn’t the first time. 

The sound of metal sliding across the floor broke through Ci’s quick investigation of his surroundings, shattering the rest of his sleepiness. He looked through the kitchen to the laundry room when he heard it again.

Ci shot up from his makeshift bed in the living room, jumping over his still snoozing friend and down the hall. He burst into his mother’s room, startling her out of her sleep.

Clutching the blanket to her chest, she stared at her son, “Ci, what’s wrong?” she asked, working her way upright.

“Mom,” Ci spat out, “There’s something in the laundry room.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her already moving body from her bed. “Something is moving in there.” He pulled harder at her, towards the door, but stopped as she grabbed his hand in hers.

“Ci,” his mom said, kneeling down to his level. “Ci, your hands are freezing. Is everything ok?”

Wide-eyed and frantic, Ci grabbed her hand, pulling again. “No, everything’s not ok. There’s something in the laundry room. You need to check it out before it gets Ryan!”

Ci’s mother looked more closely at his face. What she saw there spurned her into action. Her son was legitimately scared.

She started through the door, Ci close on her heels. They walked quietly through the living room, mindful not to wake the other boy--fast asleep, deep inside his sleeping bag on the floor. Ci held on to the back of her shirt in an uncharacteristic display of fear. His mother shook her head, silently scolding herself for leaving her movies within his reach. She was certain the source of his fear was not in the room where they were headed, but in a mind full of aliens and spaceships. Still, she slowed as they reached the door, listening for signs of movement behind the wood.

Silence was their only answer.

Ci’s mother released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “See, Ci, it was,” she stopped as metal scraped across the floor. Ci jumped.

His mother pushed him behind her, “It must be the window,” she said to no one. Slowly, she pulled the door open.

A bright flash of light pushed it past her hand, flinging the door open wide.

A scream erupted from her throat.

Ci was gone.

***

Ryan jolted awake, frantically grasping for his sleeping bag, eyes darting around wildly as he took in the unfamiliar environment. I’m at Ci’s, his brain supplied. Then, he heard it again.

“CI!” Ryan jumped again as he saw Ms. Roberson kneeling in the kitchen, pawing at a door. Ryan’s eyes narrowed as he approached her as if she were a wounded animal.

She never showed that she noticed. Instead, she collapsed in hiccuping sobs. Ryan stopped, shook his head, and reached out his hand. “Ms. Roberson?” he asked, inches away from her shoulder.

Ms. Roberson looked up, puffy eyes wide in recognition. “Ryan!” she shouted, “Ryan! Call the police! They took, they took--” unable to finish, her explanation was lost somewhere amidst her tears. He did as she asked, unable to give them an explanation as to why he was calling. Before he knew it, the night was awash in blue and red alternating lights, men in uniform, and recounting events of the day to multiple strangers.

Somewhere in the middle of it all, his own parents came in, scooping him up, and carrying him away from the insanity that was his best friend’s house.

The sound of the car’s wipers lulled Ryan into a hypnotic state as he stared out the window. The rain washed down the glass in various sized rivulets, bending the houses in different directions as they drove past. The radio, turned down low, was not loud enough to drown out his parents’ hushed tones in the front of the car.

“But, aliens, Frank? Really?”

His dad hushed his mother, sparing a glance back, where his son sat. “Cut her some slack. her son is gone.”

She rolled her eyes in response, “Yeah, but how? No sign of a break in? Her husband’s been dead for years.” She paused, considering her next words and charging on. “I can’t believe we let Ryan stay with her. If something would have happened...”

His mother didn’t finish. Instead, his father reached across the console, “But it didn’t.”

The rain stopped as his father pulled the car into the garage. Opening the door, he unbuckled Ryan, lifted him out of the car and headed inside.

Ryan was asleep before they reached his room upstairs. He tossed throughout the night, his dreams of summer adventure punctuated by bright lights, sirens, and Ms. Roberson’s wrenching screams.

The next morning, Ryan woke to the sound of rain tap-tapping on house around him. Stretching, he opened his eyes to see his room bathed in the murky grey of a rainy morning. He sighed inwardly, thinking of all the plans the rain would ruin for him and…

Ryan’s body stilled as the events of the previous night came back to him in a wave of emotion. He blinked back tears, forcing his body to move. As he methodically pulled off his still pajamas, his ears prickled with sounds of life outside his door. Sure enough, as he stepped out into the hall, the smell of a hot breakfast reached his nose.

The skillet was sizzling, his Dad moving the handle to keep its contents from sticking, “Morning, Ry!” he said, overly cheerful. Ryan gave him a half smile and headed to the fridge. “Your mom already got the juice out.” he said, lifting his elbow in the direction of the breakfast bar.

Ryan poured himself a glass, eying his dad suspiciously. “Did you take the day off?” he asked.

His Dad scooped out sausage and eggs, Ryan’s favorite, onto a plate. “I’m not going in till later. Thought we could go to the park today. They just redid the Baseball Hall of Fame.” He raised his eyebrows, “Want to check it out?”

Ryan studied his father, “Sure, I guess that sounds ok.”

“We could catch the afternoon Reds game. They’re playing the Brewers. Should be a good one.”

His Dad put the rest of the meal on a plate and turned towards the sink. Ryan chewed his breakfast, “But it’s raining,” he said around a mouthful of eggs.

His Dad shrugged in response, turning his head over his shoulder. “It’s supposed to stop before the game.” He nodded towards Ryan’s plate, “Finish up and go get dressed. We’ll get going.”

Ryan did as he was instructed, cleaning his plate and taking it to the sink before heading back to his room to get ready for the day. The whole morning, his mind was pleasantly distracted from thoughts his mind was only too glad to forget for a little while.

They spent the day doing father son things, and his dad was right—the rain did slack off in time for the game. It was a quick one, nothing to write home about except a homer by Phillips in the fourth. The Reds pulled through with a 3-2 win, securing their spot at the top of the conference. By the time they got to the car, the positive adrenaline coursing through Ryan’s system began to fade. The inevitable thoughts and questions began to appear, interrupting pleasant thoughts in not quite as rude way as right after he awoke, but still.

“Dad?”

“Yeah bud?” He responded. His voice was weary, as if he knew his distractions were through working their magic.

“Dad, what happened last night?”

The man driving shook his head slightly. Leave it to Ryan to get right to the heart of it. Sometimes, when talking to his son, he forgot he was only ten. He cleared his throat before he began, searching for the right words.

He gave up. What were the right words to tell your son his best friend was missing?

“When we got to the Robersons last night, Ryan, Ci was missing,” he started.

Ryan jumped in on his pause, “Like kidnapped?”

“The police aren’t sure.” He looked at the back of his son’s brown head starting out the window. “He might have ran away.”

“Ci wouldn’t run away,” Ryan responded with conviction. “Not without telling me first.” Silence stretched in the car. “Will they find him?”

His dad’s stomach dropped. “They will try their hardest.”

Ryan looked at his father, his expression unreadable. “Can we ride bikes when we get home?”

If the request took his father by surprise, he did not show it. “Sure, man. Whatever you want.”

He had no more than put the car in park when Ryan jumped out, rushing the things into the house and dumping them on the table. He came back out, grabbing his helmet off the wall of the garage. “Ready?”

Ryan’s dad laughed, “Let me change shoes. Hold on.” When he returned, he was dressed in his running gear, “I’ll run, you ride, deal?”

Ryan shook his head. Without a word, he hopped on his bike just like a thousand times before. He knew the rules of riding with Dad.

They started off down their street, reached the end and gave his dad a second to catch up. While he was still a few steps behind, Ryan looked both ways and turned left. His dad’s heart quickened.

He was headed towards Ci’s.

He upped his pace, but there was no way he would catch his son and he knew it. Instead, he prepared himself for the inevitable.

Ryan knew he might get in trouble. He was too far out in front. But, he didn’t care. He kept picturing Ci’s house surrounded in police tape, cruisers out in front, the typically tranquil setting interrupted by tragedy.

Pedaling faster, Ryan left his father somewhere behind him in his dust. He reached Ci’s house in record time, and was surprised by what he found.

It was Ci’s house. Just as he left it. No tape. No cruisers. No signs of tragedy.

And no Ci.

Ryan’s heart dropped.

The sound of a motor stirred Ryan out of his thoughts. He moved away from the driveway as a blue car pulled in—Ms. Roberson. The garage door rose just as his dad arrived, breathing heavy and pulling at his shorts.

“Ryan—“ he panted, “Let’s head back.”

Ryan didn’t move.

Ms. Roberson slammed her car door, rushing through her green yard towards them.

“Frank, Ryan. Hi. How are you?” She asked. There was a fragile smile plastered across her red, slightly swollen face.

Ryan’s dad smiled gently, “Pat, we are sorry about last night. If there is anything we can do,” he left it at that.

Silent tears streamed down Ms. Roberson’s face. She blinked them away hurriedly. “I know Ryan was sleeping, but,” she turned towards him, “if you remember anything, anything at all, it would help.” she said, pleadingly. Ryan’s mouth tipped down in a frown. Pat looked back towards his father, “Been at the station all day. Been there since last night.” She sniffed. “I think they think I had something to do with it. Me. Take my own boy? Hurt him?” Her words became strained.

“There was nothing you could do, Pat. They’ll find him.” Frank tried to assure her. He put his hand on Ryan’s shoulder, pushing him back towards home. “If you need—“

But Pat wasn’t listening. She looked at her hands, wringing them in a nervous fashion. “They don’t believe me. But, they brought in a skrink.” She laughed, “A shrink! I know what I saw, Frank. He was taken. Right before my eyes. There was a ship—it was grey, but it gave off this light like it was on fire. It blinded me, and when I looked up, he was gone. They took him, the aliens took him.”

Frank increased the pressure on Ryan’s shoulder, walking alongside his bike as it moved. Ryan’s feet scooted across the sidewalk.

“You know what the worst part was?” Ms. Roberson asked, oblivious of their subtle attempts to walk away.

“What Pat?” Frank asked, hand still guiding his son in the opposite direction.

“I didn’t believe him. He said there were noises in the laundry room. I thought he was making it up. He wasn’t. They were there. They took him.” Her eyes got a far off look to them as if she was staring at something over their shoulder. Ryan followed them, but there was nothing there. Ms. Roberson shook her head, “It’s a conspiracy, I tell you. They know, but they don’t want you to know, you know? They’re real. They took my son.”

Ryan and Frank were far away enough, that Frank just waved goodbye. He gave Ryan a final push, causing him to stumble over his pedals and forcing him to start moving. “I’m sure they will find him, Pat. We will see you around.” Frank took off, waving his hand in front of him, telling Ryan to go. His son glanced over his shoulder, sparing his best friend’s mother one final glance. She was standing where they had left her, wringing her hands.

She looked… crazy.

Before Ryan turned around, she lifted her hand in a goodbye and turned back towards her house. Alone.

An unidentifiable feeling shot through Ryan and nestled in to stay. It was resolve mixed with one part determination, and two parts stubborn little boy. He was going to get his friend back.

His dad skipped the lecture, instead sent Ryan to go to his room, not calling him down until dinner some time later. During that time, the feeling stirred inside of him, taking root. He began to develop a plan.

Over hamburgers that night, his parents attempted to discuss the events of the last day with him. Ryan was uncharacteristically quiet, answering their questions with short replies and adequate amounts of eye contact. There was no mention of aliens, no talk of Ci not returning.

They were putting up a wall of defense up around their son. But Ryan saw through the paper-thin walls. He knew the chances of finding Ci were slim to none--he had heard the policeman say so. Ci wasn’t coming back unless someone did something. 

“How will they find him?” Ryan asked. It was the most he had said since coming down. His parents looked equally surprised and relieved.

They looked at each other, but his dad took the question. “Well, son, they will conduct an investigation.”

“Like search for clues, that kind of thing?”

Frank nodded, “Exactly those things. They will probably talk to more of Ci and Ms. Roberson’s friends. See if they can put the pieces together.”

Satisfied, Ryan went back to his dinner. It was another one of his favorites, and went down just as tough as everything he had eaten that day.

When they were satisfied with the amount he’d eaten, Ryan was excused to get ready for bed. His parents came in to tuck him in and say goodnight. His dad’s hand was on the lightswitch when he turned back to Ryan, “They’ll find him, Ry. They’ll bring Ci home.”

Ryan nodded, “I know they will, Dad.”

Because he was going to find him.

*** 

As the moon rose, the feeling that had taken root in Ryan earlier that day kept him awake until the rest of the house was fast asleep. He slipped on his shoes as quietly as possible and tiptoed through the hall. Gently, he opened the door to the garage, slipping out

Ryan took a deep breath outside. The air was so full of moisture he could taste it. It gave weight to the darkness. It was spooky.

Resolve drove Ryan to push one foot down on his pedal, again and again until he came up on Ci’s house.

There was a light on downstairs.

Ryan walked his bike around the back of the house. The wet grass muffled his steps, his bike whistling softly the only noise coming from the boy. Leaning his bike against the house, Ryan stepped softly up the wooden steps of the deck. Halfway up, his foot slipped on the rain-sopped surface, sending it forcefully down on the step below. Ryan cringed as the sound echoed through the open space.

Ryan froze. He glanced up and around, slowly at first then regaining his confidence, continued up towards the screen door he and Ci used multiple times just yesterday.

Careful to stay out of the light from the kitchen, Ryan snuck around to the kitchen window, pulling up on the seal, and peered in.

Ms. Roberson was at the bar, unmoving save one hand stroking the stem of the mostly empty wine glass in front of her.

Ryan did not know how long he stood there, watching his best friend’s mom staring at nothing, absentmindedly moving her fingers up and down. His own fingers were cramping and damp on the soft windowsill. Thoughts of leaving to come back tomorrow begin to flit across his mind. The door might not even be open, he thought. She’s not going to bed anytime soon. Maybe I can just come back tomorrow and ask…

Sudden movement beyond the glass caught Ryan’s attention. Ms. Roberson brushed her hair back from her face. She took a deep breath and let it out, her whole body collapsing slowly as she let it out.

She thought about her next move and finally moved the stool back, deciding to get up from the bar. For what, Ryan did not know. What he did know is he might only have a minute to do what he came to do.

Ryan took quick, squishy steps to the patio door. He held his breath, letting it out through his teeth as it slid open effortlessly.

Ryan peeked his head in, listening for Ms. Roberson. The house was quiet. He stepped in, softly closing the door behind him, but not letting it click incase he needed a quick exit.

Moving quickly, Ryan began to investigate the area around the kitchen. A light grey powder covered the surfaces around him. The police must have dusted the place. Good, he thought, nodding at their job well done. Now only if he could find something to help..

A loud noise broke Ryan out of his revelry.

His head shot up as he heard Ms. Roberson from the hall, “Ci!” she shouted. Water shut off as other sounds came from her hurried movements in the bathroom.

Ryan looked about wildly. There!

The boy headed towards the laundry room just as another scraping sound echoed through the house.

Ryan could hear Ms. Roberson running down the hall. He needed to make a decision, and make it quick.

Ryan swallowed down his fear. He reached for the doorknob, undoing the latch and slowly, pulled it towards him.

Those were his attentions anyway.

A bright light blasted from inside the small room, pushing the knob from his hand.

Ms. Roberson’s gut wrenching screams assaulted Ryan’s ears until the door slammed shut with the same force.

Ryan faltered, “A ship?” he asked, teetering unsteadily. “What…”

The thought was lost. His world went black.

***

Cold water slapped Ryan’s face. He awoke with a start and shot up.

He was on a ship. A literal ship. Bow, stern, sail, wheel and…

“Pirates?” he said the last aloud, his face pinched in confusion.

The scattered crowd surrounding him sucked in a sharp breath. One stepped forward. He was older than the others, Ryan estimated twelve, maybe thirteen. Still, he had a look on his face that told Ryan despite his age, he had authority. And he was about to exercise it on him.

“Pirates?” the boy asked, taking a step towards Ryan. He tilted his head to the side, inspecting the kid lying on the deck in front of him. “Do we look like stinking pirates to you?”

He came closer to Ryan with each word until he was inches away from his own face. Yes, Ryan thought, you do. But he kept the thought to himself. They were even dressed like pirates.

“Rand—“ the voice boomed from behind the boy. He shot up, out of Ryan’s face at his words, “What is going on here?”

Rand stood at attention, as did everyone else. Ryan moved his hands to hold his weight so he could stand, too, but was thrown off when the surface was smooth. He looked down.

It wasn’t the brown, heavy wood one would expect on a typical boat. Instead, it was a smooth, grey metal. The ship was made of iron.

Ryan stood only to wobble a bit. It might have been iron, but it was cutting through the water with less finesse than you would expect. It hit a large wave and the crew simultaneously bent their knees to absorb the impact. Ryan, on the other hand, caught himself from falling with one hand on the bow.

He looked over and felt his stomach flip.

There was no water.

The ship was sailing on… air?

The scenery shot by in a wash of color. Everything beyond it was completely indistinguishable.

Ryan turned away before he lost it—or worst yet, fell into the quick abyss—only to find the crew still staring at him.

Well, some of them anyways. Most were staring at the one who’d broken up the party only moments ago.

His eyes were locked on Ryan.

“Ci?” Ryan asked, his heart skipping in his chest. It had to be him. Ryan took a step closer, reaching his head out to inspect him more closely.

His bright blonde hair was darker, he was older, more bulk to his body as he lost the roundness of his youth.

But his eyes were the same. The way he held himself? Ryan had seen it a million times on the ball field, at school, in their own back yard. He was older, and Ryan didn’t understand it, but he knew beyond anything that this boy was Ci.

Ryan was all smiles. Something inside him leapt. He had found his friend. Now he could take him home. Everything would be…

Ci narrowed his eyes at Ryan, “Ci? Boy, do not flatter yourself. I do not know you.” The crew let out an uneasy laugh around him. Ci looked around at them, “Do you not have work to do?” It came out quietly, but at his words, the crowd scattered without question, except for the boy who had given Ryan a hard time earlier. Ci looked at him. “Tyler.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Mayne?” Tyler replied.

“I will take this one to the Iron Maiden. Ready the crew for incursion.”

“They are always ready, sir.” Ci looked at Tyler, brows slightly raised. Tyler balked, “I mean, yes sir. I will get them ready, Mr. Mayne.” With that, he turned and left.

Ci reached down and wordlessly grabbed Ryan above his elbow.

Ryan was silent as Ci pushed him across the sleek deck and down a dark hall.

The floor had a slight slope to it, illuminated by soft green lights that lined the walls. Ryan’s eyes quickly adjusted as they descended into the bowels of the ship.

Ryan marveled at the size of the ship as Ci led him down the hall and around one corner and the next. After a minute of travel, Ci stopped at a solid door, placing his hand on the smooth panel beside it.

The parted in the middle with a hiss.

Ci pushed Ryan in ahead of him as the door repeated the process in reverse, shutting behind them.

They were in a plain bunkroom. It was Spartan in its furnishings—with only a bed, closet and small table adorning the crowded space. A large porthole made the room surprisingly bright as colors swirled by at high speeds.

Ryan turned away as his stomach flipped again. He turned to find Ci staring at him, hand on his chin.

“Who are you?” Ci asked in the same voice he had used with the others.

Ryan didn’t like it. He balked, “I’m Ryan, Ci. Your friend?” he looked around, “What happened to you?”

Ci shook his head, “No, you can’t be Ryan, you’d be older,” he pulled at Ryan’s sleeve, lifting his small arm only to drop it again, “bigger.”

Ryan brushed his hand away, “What are you talking about?” Ci’s words set off something inside of him. All Ryan could remember were Ms. Roberson’s screams before the door cut them off as it shut. Her face as he rode away on his bike that afternoon. “Ci, you left. Last night. How much am I supposed to grow in a day?” He punctuated the last words, shooting them across the space like bullets from his mouth.

Ci shook his head, denying Ryan’s words, “No, no. I left years ago.” He help out his simple brown shirt, “Does it look like I left yesterday? I haven’t known you since, since…” he paused, thinking about it. “Since fourth grade! I was eleven.” He held his hands out in front of him, gesturing from his head to his toes and back again. “I’m a little bit older than that. Obviously.”

Ci’s voice had gotten louder and louder as he spoke and Ryan’s temper had risen with it. “Yeah, so what! You’re bigger. You’re older. And I don’t know how it happened, but you’re still just as dumb as you used to be! That hasn’t changed! We’re on a stupid floating ship for god’s sake. But nooooo, nothing else is weird about this. Everything else can just be explained away!”

Ryan stopped, hands on his hips, chest rising and falling in heavy breaths.

“Are you done?” Ci asked.

“I don’t know,” Ryan returned. “Are you still stupid?”

The corners of Ci’s mouth tipped up in a smile. Ryan caught it and felt his own do the same.

Ci reached out and grabbed his small friend, pulling him into his arms. “I don’t know how it happened, but I’m sure glad you’re here, Ryan.”

Ryan slapped his friend’s back, “Me too, Ci. Me too.” He stepped back, crossing his arms. “Where are we, anyways?”

Ci laughed, “This, my friend, is the Iron Rose.” He swept his hand around the space. “The rarest of the rare, the intergalactic ship of those not yet ruined by the world.”

Ryan’s forehead scrunched at his words, unsure of their meaning. He has opened his mouth in response, but Ci cut him off.

Putting his hand on Ryan’s shoulder, he said, “We can get you in the battalion, Ryan. After a while, you can rise through the ranks just like I did. You can be Helene’s third.” Ci’s face glittered with excitement as the words spun out of his lips. “We can run the Iron Rose together. It will be great!”

Ci started pushing Ryan out the door of the barrack. At his words, Ryan pushed his feet to the ground, stopping them. Ci looked his way, but Ryan just picked up his hand, removing it from his shoulder. “Ci, I’m here to take you home.”

Ci’s head jerked back, “Home?” he started to laugh, “Why would I want to do that?”

His words shocked Ryan. He stepped back from his friend, searching for the words, “Because it’s your home. Everyone is looking for you.” Ryan pleaded. “They think your mom might have killed you. You should have heard her when she found out you were gone.” He shuddered at the memory. “She was screaming, Ci. And crying.” He looked at his friend, his face white. “That’s how I found her: on the floor of the kitchen, your kitchen. She was a mess.”

Silence struck through the room as Ci digested his words. Ryan was about to continue when Ci ran his hands through his hair, causing it to stick up on end, letting out an audible sigh, “I can’t go back. Look at me,” he said, laughing humorlessly. “I leave eleven, come back fourteen? It would cause more questions than answers.” Ci tilted his head back, and when his gaze met Ryan’s, all emotion was gone. “I thought about it, you know—going home. But that was a long time ago.” He shook his head. “You’d do better…”

Ci’s words were drowned out by a siren liting through the small space. Ryan jerked his hands to cover his assaulted ears as Ci cursed under his breath.

“What is that?” Ryan yelled. His words were almost lost amongst the screeching bouncing off the iron walls.

Ci grabbed his arm and pushed him through the opening door, “Come on.” The two boys ran through the halls, Ryan’s legs straining to keep up with his friend’s lengthened stride. Finally, they burst through to the deck, bright color shining around the softly bobbing ship.

The deck was a flurry of movement, and Ci wasted no time, grabbing a belted sword and a sleek, black telescope simultaneously.

He whipped the telescope back and forth, “Two ships sighted off the port bow!” He bellowed. The crew responded to his words like a well-oiled machine, raising sail, moving large guns into place. Ryan’s heart sank with the realization of what he had gotten himself into. “The HMS Galleon is escorting the…” he paused, giving a short laugh, lowering his telescope. “The Caruso!” He yelled in a different tone.

The crew let out a cheer, continuing in their preparation.

Ryan looked up to his friend, confusion written on his face, “What’s the Caruso?” he asked.

Ci opened his mouth to respond when a voice from behind Ryan effectively cut him off. “The Caruso, my dear boy, is a two-hundred ton freighter full of valuable items. After securing its cargo, we will be set for ages.”

Ryan turned towards the voice. It was a lady, well, a teenage girl. She couldn’t have been much older than Ci. But, there was something about the way she carried herself—upright and stern behind her dull grey armor. Her jet-black hair was pulled back in a ponytail that was blowing around her face. She reached up, securing a strand behind her ear.

“Mr. Mayne, who is this?” she said, looking down at Ryan. Her face was impassive, no emotion, all business. Ryan felt his stomach drop.

“My lady, this is Ryan. He came aboard at the last stop.” Ci held out his hand, pointing towards his old friend. “Ryan, meet Helene, the Iron Maiden, the captain of the Iron Rose.” He turned back to the captain, “We were on our way to see you when the siren sounded.”

Helene seemed to take in Ci’s words carefully, taking Ryan in from head to toe and back again. The busyness of the ship was lost as she inspected him with those eyes.

Ryan did not know her, but he knew his fate rested in her hands. What he did not know, however, is what Ci would do if forced to make a decision between his old loyalties of friendship and the new loyalties of authority.

Finally she spoke, “Mr. Mayne, mobilize the crew. But first, put Ryan in the nest.”

Without hesitation, Ci muttered, “Aye, my lady,” and he grabbed Ryan’s arm, pulling him through the crowded decks to the middle of the ship.

Ryan struggled, but it was of no use. “Ci! Ci! What are you doing?”

They stopped at the largest mast. Ci held out his hands, laced together as if he wanted Ryan to step it. “Up,” he said, gesturing above them with his head.

Ryan balked, “Are you crazy? I’m not going up there!”

Ci rolled his eyes. “It’s the safest place, and I don’t have time to argue. You need to go all the way to the top, and don’t come down until someone comes to get you.”

Ryan stood, arms crossed and finally rolled his eyes. “Ok, whatever.”

He began to climb.

The slick iron mast was fixed with sturdy metal poles spaced apart the same space of distance as rungs on a ladder. Ryan scaled it with ease, and as he swung himself into the large, iron basket at the top, he was startled by the crew. An eerie tune wafted from the crowded deck.

Ryan strained his ears, only to hear Ci’s voice above the rest,

“Gunners sight propulsion engines!” he pointed from the deck above them, “Boarding party suit up and form ranks! Raise the Iron Rose!” he yelled, throwing his fist in the air. The crew cheered as a squeaking noise interrupted Ryan’s attentions.

To the left of him, a flag ascended. It was steel grey and huge, adorned with a simple rose.

Ryan shuddered at the sight of it, his stomach further knotted as the crew began to sing.

Abandon hope

The Iron Rose

Comes forth to claim the prize

We seek your goods

We seek your gold

We do not seek your lives 

The Iron Maid who rules us

The Iron Rose be rare

Don't fight with us

You will not win

But join us if you dare 

The Iron Rose a-flying 

Means danger in the sky

We fight for gold

We fight as one

For we will do or die 

The ships in question came closer, unable to veer off course, “ONWARD!” Helene’s voice shouted above the noise. Ryan gripped the railing, preparing for the inevitable.

The Iron Rose collided with the HMS Galleon, jerking Ryan from his post. He felt his heart sink as the escorting ship split into two, sending the pieces in question falling from the sky.

“You are an unstoppable force!” Helene yelled, “Onward!”

With that, the crew of the Iron Rose invaded the galleon, striking down any and all who got in their way.

With wicked speed, and unquestionable talent, the young crew of the Iron Rose had the Caruso taken in no time. Ryan could see from his perch, the crew of the Iron Rose had the others corners. They never stood a chance.

Helene stood in front of them as Ci oversaw the unloading of the ship. They made quick work of it, sometimes bringing up people to add to the crowd of living in the front of the boat. The dead were thrown over the side, no pomp, no circumstance. Just discarded like yesterday’s trash. Ryan felt his stomach flip as the sight.

Helene placed a hand on the hilt of her sword, “Caruso! You have had the unfortunate luck of running into the Iron Rose.” She paused as her crew around her let out a yell. Ryan felt the vibrations from it underneath his white-knuckled grip.

“You have probably heard of us,” she said, eliciting a laugh from the workers behind her. “We thank you for your bounty. Now, you have a choice.” She paused, pacing in front of the crowd. She held out one hand. “Choice number one—come with us,” she said it quickly, looking from eye to eye of the captured crew, a smile upon her face. “Live the rest of your life on the Iron Rose! Sail the seven spaces! Steal from the rich, give to the poor. Make something of your life!” She paused, then quieter, “What more could you ask for?” She shook her head in emphasis. The crowd had no response.

“Or!” Helene said, holding out one finger, “You could stay here,” she held out her arms, gesturing towards their empty, smoking ship. “The miserable, sad, do nothing Caruso. Think hard, friend. Think hard. For when will you ever have another chance,” Helene pointed back to the Iron Rose, “like this?”

Helene’s smile was so big, Ryan could even see it from where he stood.  

“You couldn’t pay me to join you,” came a voice from the crowd. Helene stopped her pacing and turned.

“Oh, I can’t can I?” she asked. “Is this how all of you feel?” the crowd bobbed their heads, no one stepped forward.

Ci lifted his hand to her shoulder. “All’s clear, my lady,” he said.

“Good,” Helene replied, following her crew off the ship. “Ready the sails!” she shouted, causing a flurry of movement on the deck below.

Within minutes, they were moving again, slowly away from the Caruso.

Helene wrecked the silence, “Gunners!” she yelled, “Fire!”

So they did.

The Caruso, and the rest of their crew, met the same demise as their escort ship, falling to the ground in a thousand pieces of wood and bodies.

Ryan hit his knees, unable to watch, forcing the bile in his throat back down. What was he doing here? He had to get home.

Ryan sat there for however long—time was not important in the light of what had happened—before Ci grabbed his foot. Ryan jerked and Ci laughed, swinging himself into the nest next to his friend.

“So, what did you think?” Ryan did not answer, instead he only stared at his friend, unsure of where even to begin. Ci let out a short laugh, “Yeah, that’s how I felt the first time, too.” he chucked Ryan on the arm before moving around to climb back down. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

“Used to it?” Ryan asked, barely above a whisper.

Ci looked at him over the edge of the iron, “Yeah, Ryan. You’re going to be part of the crew.”

Ryan shot to his feet, nausea forgotten, “Ci! I just want to go home! I don’t want to be a part of,” he waved his hand towards the open air, mind full of mental images from only this afternoon. When he pictured Helene, in front of all those people, killing them without a second thought, without a shred of remorse?

He’d be damned if he’d stay here. He told Ci as much.

Ci waved away his concerns. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Ryan.”

“I do know! I don’t want my parents to go through what your mom is going through. I love them!” Ryan shot back.

Ci’s face grew red at what Ryan was implying, “Shut up, Ryan. You don’t know what you’re talking about. I love my mom, but we’re doing good things here.”

Ryan was disgusted. “By killing innocent people?” he sneered.

His friend narrowed his eyes, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ryan shrugged, “I might not,” he said. “But I know what I saw.”

Ci’s brows met above his narrow nose.

Ryan had seen that look before, “You look like your mom when you do that,” he said.

Ci blinked in surprise at his words, then shook his head, “Come on, let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” Ryan asked after him, but his friend was already gone.

Helene was waiting for them at the bottom. She looked at Ci, “I thought I was going to have to send someone to come get you.”

Ci shook his head, “Seems Ryan here is scared of heights.”

Ryan was taken back by the words. If he remembered correctly, Ci was the one making excuses to stay on the ground.

Helene smiled at Ci, then at Ryan. It wasn’t a kind smile. Ryan thought hard and fast about what would make someone so young so… evil.

“Then maybe he should be a gunner then.” She looked up, “Tyler,” she commanded.

The boy in question raised his brows, “Yes, my lady?”

Helene pointed towards Ryan, “Take our new recruit below and get him settled in. He’s to join the gunners.”

Tyler smiled happily, nodding his head, “Yes, my lady.” And without another word, Tyler grabbed Ryan, jerking him down, deeper into the ship, past Ci’s room and into unfamiliar territory.

The hall widened, and Ryan’s eyes adjusted as the green lights grew farther and farther apart. Finally, Tyler banged twice on a large, metal door on hinges, giving the wheel mounted on the front a turn. He looked to Ryan, “They are an odd bunch, you’ll fit right in.”

Ryan was mulling over the words as the door creaked open, revealing a boy, no older than himself, but something was… off.

The boy was pale with unnaturally large eyes. Ryan cringed as he turned towards him.

“Soma,” Tyler said, “This is Ryan. He’s a newbie.” He turned towards Ryan, one hand on his back, “Have fun in there,” he said. “We’ll see you, well,” he shrugged, “never.”

With that, Tyler pushed Ryan into the room with the rest of the gunners, effectively shutting the door behind him.

Ryan felt the nausea return as he heard the click of the lock behind him.

He was trapped.

***

That night, Ryan lay awake in his bunk with only the sounds of the others sleeping to keep him company. From what he had gathered, the gunners were not only at the bottom of the rungs, but most never saw the light of day once they were locked away in here. Most bore some semblance to Soma, what with their pale skin and wide eyes. It made sense since they were locked away down here, in the darkness, forgotten.

From the few conversations he managed to squeeze out of them, they were an odd lot with a strange sense of humor.

Ryan laughed, humorlessly.

And they get to kill people. He quickly amended the thought in his head, No, they have to.

Ryan’s blood boiled as he thought about this afternoon. It no longer made him sick to replay the pictures in his mind. No, anger was all he had left to spare.

Slowly, Ryan swung his legs out of his bed. He couldn’t sit anymore.

There were no guards on duty. They did not need any, for the door only opened from the outside.

He looked around, trying to gain his bearings when he saw a slice of light near the hatch.

Ryan rubbed his eyes, and looked again only to find that it was gone.

What little bit of hope he had mustered in that moment fled, leaving Ryan emptier than before. He might as well go…

Ryan gasped as a hand covered his mouth, muffling the sound. “Shh.” The voice spat, “Follow me.”

Ryan turned, “Ci?” he asked the dark shape behind him. He nodded, sending the large goggles on his face sliding down. Ci reached to push them back up, waving Ryan towards him.

Ci led him to the door, opening it only enough so they could slide through. He closed it with a quiet click and turned towards his friend. “Be quiet and keep up. Do you think you can do that?”

Questions clouded Ryan’s mind, but he pushed them aside as his best friend took off through the dim halls.

Ci took Ryan the opposite direction than earlier. Ryan struggled to keep up, but was determined not to lose his friend, again. There was also no way he was going back to the gunner room. They would have to kill him first.

A shiver ran through Ryan as he realized that might be an option.

Finally, Ci reached a small door and punched in a long, complicated code to a pad beside it. He pulled the glasses off his face, “Ryan, we’re going to get you out of here. But, you have to do exactly as I say.”

Ryan opened his mouth to reply, but Ci held up his finger to his lips as the door disengaged.

Inside, there was an elevator, barely big enough for one person. Ci stepped in, pushing himself against the back wall and motioned for Ryan to come.

Ryan looked at him dubiously. Ci waved again, more frantically this time, and Ryan acquiesced, smushing himself up against his friend’s torso. Ci punched a button and the door closed behind him.

“Ci,” Ryan said, holding his head as far away as possible. “Where are we? What are we doing?”

“We are in Helene’s personal elevator.” Ci answered. “And we are going to get you out of here.” The elevator slowed. “Now, listen to me. I set the ship on a reverse course tonight. It will be going right by your drop point.” Ci paused, punching in another code. Ryan felt the elevator shift sideways, “There is only one way off the ship. You’ll have to trust me.”

Ryan felt apprehension creep into his bones. He had heard those words from Ci before and they had never ended well.

“Trust you?” Ryan asked. “What are you going to make me do, jump off the ship?”

The elevator stopped in its tracks. Ryan looked up at Ci as his friend peered out the open door. His friend stepped out and he followed. “Ci..?”

Ci looked back at Ryan, putting both hands on his shoulders. Ryan had never seen this look on his face before. Gone was his mischievous, uninhibited childhood friend. The boy standing before him was grown. He was the second of a ship. The one who spoke and was obeyed. Ryan felt his heart drop.

“Ryan, the only way off is to jump. I will be right there. Do you trust me?”

Ryan nodded, about to respond when footsteps sounded behind them, “There they are!” It was Tyler, and he was not alone.

“Mr. Mayne!” Helene shouted, “Get the boy!”

“Run!” Ci yelled, pushing Ryan towards the door to the deck. They made it just as the rest of the crew rounded the corner.

Ryan jumped on the thick iron railing, Ci following beside him. He grabbed his hand.

“Mr. Mayne! Stop him!” Helene screamed as Ryan prepared to jump.

Ci looked at him. “Do you trust me?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” Ryan responded, looking up as his friend. There was something behind his eyes. He knew what was coming. He knew his friend too well, “Ci—“ Ci jumped down, pulling his sword on the crew of the Iron Rose.

Ryan scrambled to get down, “Ci! No!” he yelled.

Ci turned towards him, a small smile on his face. “Goodbye, Ryan. Give my mom my love.”

With that, he put his hand on Ryan’s knee and pushed, sending Ryan flailing overboard.

Ryan screamed his name until he was out of air. He was floating. Ci had lied to him. He would hit the ground any second…

The air rushed out of Ryan’s lungs as he landed.

In a laundry basket.

He looked around frantically, getting his bearings when he heard someone screaming outside the door.

He was in a laundry room.

Ci’s laundry room.

Ms. Roberson was outside.

Ryan started at the wall momentarily before pulling himself to his feet. Placing both feet on the floor, he stood, delicately opening the door in front of him.

“Ms. Roberson?” he asked softly.

His heart broke as his best friend’s mother looked up at him. Her face was swollen red, tear stains scattered across her face. She looked up at Ryan, shock written across her face.

“You!” she said, “Ryan! did you see Ci?” She grabbed both his arms, shaking him with each word, “Did you see my boy?”

Ryan’s eyes filled with tears. What could he say?

Nothing.

He shook his head and watched all hope drain from her face. “I’m sorry Ms. Roberson,” he said. His voice was level, as silent tears streamed down his face. At his words, Ms. Roberson seemed to completely disconnect—as if hope was the only thing she had left.

And Ryan had taken that from her.

Silently, Ryan slipped from her grip, tracing his earlier path out the back and down the stairs. He picked up his bike, and began pedaling.

Ryan did not remember how he got back to his house.

Ryan did not know how he got to his room.

He only knew that when he did, he collapsed on his bed, tears and exhaustion taking over his little body.

“Ryan?” his mom knocked on his door the next morning, opening it as she did. “Ryan? Are you up?”

Ryan brought both hands up to his face, wiping away the tears that would not stop. He had been awake for hours, but he did not see the need in worrying her by letting her know. Instead, he rolled towards the door, feigning sleep, wiping at his face with his hands. “What time is it?” He asked.

“It’s almost nine,” she walked into his room, sitting on the edge of his bed. She reached out a hand and smoothed back his hair. It was almost enough to start his tears again. Instead he blinked them away. “Here,” she said, handing him a small card. “This came in the mail for you today.” She leaned down and kissed his head, “Come down for breakfast when you’re ready, ok?”

He nodded as his mother left the room, staring at what she had given him.

It was a thick white card with only his name written across the outside. Ryan flipped it over and back again. There was no stamp. No address. Weird.

He sat up, peeling it open.

A piece of grey material fell out. Ryan studied it closely before realization hit him. Quickly, he pulled out the letter.

Ryan—

She’s gone, both the Maiden and the Rose.

Thank you for turning me in the right direction.

You will see that my mother has improved since last night. I really do love her, you know. 

Until we meet again—

Your friend, Cedric “Ci” Mayne Roberson