Intern

  Ethan jumped, the sound of a blaring horn sending the contents he had clutched in his arms scattering to the ground. He stumbled forward, kneeling as he provided the driver of the offending car a few gestures and words of encouragement. Those acts were reciprocated in kind before the driver sped off, vanishing a moment later in the tangle of cock-eyed streets Boston was known for. The stale smell of summer had fled the city, giving way to the crisp scent of autumn. Overhead loomed the proof of that season. An endless sprawl of gray threatened rain that would never come.

  “Just my luck,” Ethan muttered, hoisting the bag over his shoulder and inspecting the dent in his coffee mug.

  “Let me help you with that,” a familiar voice called. The sound of hard-soled shoes announced the arrival of a friendly face.

  “Thanks, Robert.”

  Unlike Ethan, Robert was muscular and wore a tailored suit. When assessing his own chubby physique, he found himself lacking. Perhaps his old gray hoodie wasn’t helping matters, but financing new clothes as a college student in an expensive city was never easy.

  “Come on. Call me Bobby.”

  “Okay, Bobby.” Ethan chuckled, pulling the last of his textbooks into his hands and propping them unsteadily on his arms.

  They were going to the same place, so why not? Bobby seemed eager to walk him the rest of the way. Perhaps that was some fatherly instinct borne of middle management. Or the instincts of a man with a mother-hen personality. Ethan had the unenviable position of being a guy in his late 20’s attending college. Despite his lack of physical fitness, he still looked young. Even considering that, he wouldn’t decline the help.

  Both men froze, looking off into the intersection they had just prepared to walk across with mouths agape.

  “Bit early for that, isn’t it?” Bobby asked.

  Ethan gawked as a man holding a large spear-thing and wearing a fluttering cloak ran through traffic. He was followed closely by a gaggle of similarly dressed people. Everyone bustling to get to work froze, trying to make the connection between the oncoming threat that Salem suffered from and the earliest stages of autumn.

  “Maybe they’re testing out their costumes?” Ethan asked with a half hearted shrug, not believing his own words. “Those were some seriously good costumes.”

  “Yeah, did you see the bear-guy?” Bobby laughed, his sharp chuckle carrying a nervous edge. “Okay. I need to get some coffee before I even begin to process this.”

  Ethan laughed as they pressed on. Halloween costumes aside, he was just happy to have someone to walk with. Especially one that might have a say in his permanent employment, rather than just a simple internship. Once the pair had walked a few blocks, Bobby seemed to completely forget about the mishap at the crosswalk. He was laughing again, smiling up at the tall building in the distance. They were on the 20th floor, although whether anyone could distinguish which office was theirs from the street was beyond Ethan’s comprehension.

  “You’re going to have a lot of fun today.” Bobby chuckled yet again. “Would you believe that the marketing team messed up about 10 new machines?”

  “Oh, marketing screwed something up.” Ethan feigned ignorance. Why was it always marketing? “Color me surprised. What did they do this time?”

  “Well, that’s for you and the other nerds to figure out. Apparently, you don’t check your email when you’re out of work.”

  “Must have been a busy week.” Ethan couldn’t truly remember if he had checked his email that week. Things had been hectic. But as he paused for a moment, he realized he was speaking to someone in a management position. Bobby was a friend only if he stretched the definition of the word, but making a good impression was always a good idea

  “Don’t worry, you’ve got the fabled intern status. You’re basically immune from scrutiny.”

  As they approached the building, Ethan couldn’t help but stare up at its height. He always felt dizzy when he came downtown and wasn’t eager to linger any longer. He was the first to press forward through the doors, nodding to the staff at the massive desk before pressing the button for the elevator. As always, it was slow to come, which gave Bobby a chance to talk about whatever he had been doing that week and what he planned to do for the weekend. Of course, as a student, Ethan’s plan was to study for the subjects he had fallen behind in.

  “I don’t even know the difference between computer science and IT,” Bobby said as the elevator hummed while they ascended toward their floor.

  “The difference is money for me. Developers are typically paid more than IT people, although I still don’t know if that’s really what I want to do.”

  “What else would you get into? Basket weaving or something?” Bobby asked. “At least you’re in a field that actually pays.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Ethan sighed. He couldn’t picture himself getting into a creative field, if only for the moniker those people held. “Imagine if I wanted to get into the arts. Nothing like having college debt and also being a starving artist.”

  Ethan used his badge to scan into the office suite. He parted company with Bobby right by the reception desk, taking a right while his companion took a left. He snaked his way through the office, weaving through aisles of cubicles and dodging greetings from his co-workers. After getting his computer up and running, he checked his emails to find that, indeed, the marketing people had made a mess of their new machines.

  “God forbid they follow a clearly labeled series of instructions,” Ethan muttered. “How can you mess up a step-by-step process?”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  It hardly seemed to matter. Today was shaping up to be a boring day, so any distraction was welcome. He got to work right away, heading over to berate the team with as much authority as an intern could muster. The other nerds from the IT group were already working on it, partitioning the 10 machines out to different members to do a fresh install. It almost seemed as though the marketing people had messed up on purpose, if only so they didn’t have to do it themselves.

  As always, on such boring tasks, Ethan took the machines to a north-facing window and sat on the ground. Although the day outside wasn’t pleasant to look at, the little light that filtered through the grey clouds above was enough to motivate him. He got to work, gaining no strange looks from his co-workers as he installed fresh versions of the operating system on those machines.

  It was an incredibly exciting day.

  “What’s that?” a lilting voice came from somewhere behind him.

  Ethan had been so absorbed in going back and forth between his mental checklist for work and that for school that he hadn’t noticed anything strange. Suzanne, a senior member of the development team, had gestured towards the window, gaining his attention.

  Far in the distance, a dark plume of smoke was rising into the air. It was situated behind a cluster of brick buildings that Ethan couldn’t discern from this distance despite living here for a while. He had a very poor sense of direction.

  “Trash fire, maybe?” he asked.

  “Multiple trash fires, then,” Suzanne pointed out, brushing silver hair from her face. Her chair swiveled as she began typing on her computer. “No, I don’t know if that’s a trash fire. There’s some chatter on the net about… Can’t be right.”

  Ethan heard a distinct snapping sound that he didn’t quite understand. It seemed to reverberate through the glass, making him clench his teeth reflexively. He shot to his feet, brows furrowed as he looked over the cityscape before him.

  “I’m on this local bulletin board,” Suzanne said. After a moment, she turned with a pale look of concern on her face. “They’re saying something about an attack. Do you think it might be terrorism or something?”

  “I don’t know about that.” Ethan pressed his face against the glass like a little kid, fogging it up. Near the dark smoke, he saw a speck of light, something shining brightly to battle against the dim sky above. He narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out if it was a high-powered flashlight or someone shining a laser at the office.

  As he went to suck in a breath, all the air was drawn from his lungs.

  The sound of the explosion was deafening, but it wasn’t as bad as the wave of pressure that racked his body. The glass on the north-facing side of the building shattered, sending shards of puncturing glass exploding inward. Although Ethan attempted to gulp for air, his chest seized as though somebody had punched him in the solar plexus. He writhed on the ground, littered with glass and paper, finally rolling onto his back. His ears rang as the sound of chaos returned to him. People were shouting, and explosions rang out in the distance. He couldn’t hear enough of the conversation around him to know what they were talking about, only that people were evacuating the building.

  “There you are,” Suzanne said, hoisting the intern to his feet with more power than a little old lady should have. “We need to get out of here.”

  “What the hell is going on?” Ethan asked, digging into his ears as he stumbled forward. His vision swam, and when he pressed his hand against his stomach to find the source of sharp pain, he found wetness and the scent of copper.

  A low thrum echoed in Ethan’s ears, followed by another explosion that deafened him once again. The building beneath him rocked as if its very foundation had shifted a foot to the left. Suzanne stumbled but maintained her footing as she led him toward the exit. About halfway there, the adrenaline coursing through Ethan’s body was enough to send him standing upright. Logically, he knew the effects would be temporary. But he intended to put it to good use, shaking off the help from his co-worker and pressing forward.

  “Not that way.” Ethan coughed hard enough to force him to place his fist in front of his mouth. When he drew his hand away, he saw blood, causing a fresh wave of adrenaline to fill his body. “We’ll take the back stairwell. The one in the front is going to be packed, and I doubt the elevators are working.”

  “Okay. Okay. We got this.” Suzanne breathed heavily, falling into the rearward position and huffing for air.

  Most people in the office who liked to duck out early without detection knew about this stairwell. It was actually within the office itself and not in the main concourses provided by whichever company managed the building. As expected, a few of the IT staff were rushing toward that same stairwell and Ethan was delighted to see that they held the door open for him and Suzanne as they passed through. Each step down that stairwell was a torturous experience. He would step and feel the pain radiate through his stomach and into his ribs. He fell behind the others, who took the stairs two at a time, but eventually reached the bottom, sagging against the wall and then taking a break.

  “Come on, Ethan, you got this,” he said, slapping himself in the face. He had no time to think about what kind of attack this was, only that he needed to find medical attention as soon as he could. The logical part of his brain dominated, pushing away the fear for now. But how long would that last?

  Falling out onto the street, Ethan’s brain tried hard to comprehend what he was seeing. He saw something in the distance, glowing bright and blue and shimmering, almost as though he was viewing neon lights behind a haze of heat. He saw people in strange costumes directing others. At a distant intersection, he watched as those very same people battled green-skinned creatures as though a fantasy movie was being filmed in Boston.

  “This way, citizen,” a huge guy shouted, gesturing toward Ethan and pointing down the street. This guy wasn’t just big; he was gigantic, almost eight feet tall, covered in fur and wearing thick armor. But as an intern, he was used to following orders and stumbled to his feet, clutching his side as he limped in the indicated direction.

  The others must have already fled far from the scene of the battle because Ethan didn’t see anybody he recognized. He didn’t see anybody who was from here. Instead, he only ran into concerned-looking people wearing medieval-era armor. Some gestured for him to go in one direction, while others told him a different path. The adrenaline was wearing off, and his shuffling stumble became more labored, even drawing breath.

  It was getting difficult.

  Ethan wasn’t sure how long or how far he had walked before he fell against the side of a building. He was in some back alley he didn’t recognize. The blood pouring from his side had soaked into his jeans, pooling on the ground below him. He rested on the ground, taking sharp breaths as he felt his consciousness fading in and out. Just as he was ready to throw in the towel, he felt something warm around him, like the embrace of an old friend he had forgotten about. He looked up to see the spectral visage of an old man with a long beard and hair to match. The old man knelt before him, placing an intangible hand on his knee.

  “You fought hard,” the old man said, his voice sounding as though transmitted through an old speaker. It almost seemed to crackle in the air. “But now it’s time to rest.”

  “I need to get to a hospital,” Ethan said, still clinging on to whatever vestiges of logic remained in his dying brain. “I’ve gotta…”

  The old man pressed a finger into his forehead, and the scene around them darkened. The back alleys of Boston fell away, and so did the pain. Ethan took his first full breath since he had been injured in the office and blinked away his confusion. The old man offered him a weak smile, turning quickly to take his own steadying breath.

  “The journey ahead is long.” The wisp-thin line of hope in his voice brought with it a sense of comfort. “It’s going to take a while, but I’ll need you. You’ve got all the right stuff to make it happen.”

  “Wait, what just happened?” Ethan called out, walking as the old man began to walk away.

  The ghostly figure turned, smiling down at him. “I’ll tell you on the other side. Assuming my plan works.”