Harken

12 Anonymity

The lonely white envelope sat amidst a sea of gray stone, its edge lifting slightly in the wind though never overturning. The paper was crisp and new, and its center bulged out from something held inside.

“This isn’t good,” Callista said, looking up at the sky and then around the edges of the walls that hid us. “Someone had to have come here last night and left it. That means they know where we are.”

“Just to drop off a letter?” Thad said. “Does that make sense?”

“What have they done that’s ever made sense?” Callista countered, waving her hand toward the envelope. “Thad, you’ve seen some of the crazy stuff they have.”

“He’s right, though,” I said. The others looked at me. I swallowed quickly.

“I mean, we aren’t dead,” I told them. “We could be getting all worked up for nothing. And we won’t know unless we open it.”

The morning air and eating some food had revived me in some way. So without waiting for any more arguing, I stepped across the rocks and grabbed the envelope.

“See, no explosions,” I said, watching as both of them relaxed, if only slightly. I turned the envelope over a couple times in my hands, studying the edges and finding that the paper was dry, some dirt stuck in the edges but sealed tightly in the flaps. Whatever was inside wasn’t stiff, so I figured it was safe enough. I glanced up at the others, staring across enraptured. All attention was on me now.

To make it more dramatic, I flicked my finger, and a single silver claw appeared. I liked the surprise on their faces: it made me feel like I was in control again. I drew my blade across the top of the envelope, severing the pieces.

Callista appeared by my side as I pulled the halves apart. Inside was a single, folded piece of paper, thick like the expensive letter stock my mom sometimes used when trying to impress her clients. I could feel the anticipation as Callista and Thad pressed in closer. I unfolded the top third of the letter with fingers holding it gingerly by the edges, trying to put on a strong face so they wouldn’t know I was just as nervous as they were.

When you open a letter, usually you start reading at the top. But in my case, when I bent both of the folds down, the first thing I saw was at the bottom of the page simply because a word on it leapt out at me.

“Anon!” I couldn’t help myself as the name slipped out. The others looked up at me.

“You know who this is from?” Callista asked. I wasn’t sure whether I should shake my head or nod.

“I don’t know him,” I said. “But I know who he is. He’s…someone on the inside.”

Nothing I could have said would have alleviated the questions I saw on their faces. My eagerness was too great to finish an explanation, so I looked back to the letter and read:

To Mr. Asher,

You have finally survived. Your lack of decease shows promise.

At the moment, you are safer than you will ever be for most of your existence. The group sent to end you is under the belief that you perished while attempting to save your Chosen in their plane crash. I am partially responsible for this deception. With your death, your family is now temporarily out of harm’s way. I believe your pursuers will not realize otherwise for a few days, after which you will be in danger again.

Already, I am sure you are feeling lost. You do not know your place in the Grand Design. But I wish to assure you that you do have a place, your place serves a purpose, and all will soon be revealed, if you choose.

Your two companions have a place in this Design as well. The duty of your Chosens is to protect you, their Guardian. This is their obligation. Their failure means their demise.

At the bottom of this page is the address of a house. The owner is of no relevance. The window beside the chimney is open for you already. At this house, you will find the answer to who you are, why you are here, how you got where you are, and what you are to do. I cannot promise that these answers will make you happy.

The house will remain untouched for three days, after which time it will find itself burned to ashes in an unfortunate electrical malfunction. Any evidence of your presence will disappear with it.

If you desire to know the truth, you will follow my instructions. If you desire to disappear and pretend that you are not who you are, then you will never hear from me again.

Choose wisely. Don’t trust anyone.

ANON

While the address at the bottom was circled in pen, there was no written signature. By the time I had reached the ending, the paper was shaking between my hands.

No one said anything at first. An unfathomable silence fell upon us, as if the weight of the letter’s words tugged us toward the ground.

My family is safe. It brought a racing feeling of relief, even if just a little. Maybe if the Guardians thought I was gone, then they’d simply let my death vanish into the cases of unsolved mysteries. But how long would it last?

“So what’s that about?” Thad finally said. I met his eyes but looked away quickly, back to the paper, reading it a second time. The mysterious Anon strikes again. I remembered how secretive Father Lonnie had been even with this man’s reference, frightened at the mere thought of saying it aloud. How had Anon gotten the letter to me? Had he crept up sometime in the night and slipped it under me without being seen? Sent an associate? I doubted he’d risk telling someone else where we were. But I also doubted he’d risk his own safety. If it’d been anyone else, I’d have felt stupid and defeated. But all the secrecy that surrounded Anon had built him up as someone who could remain concealed no matter how much effort we’d put into hiding ourselves.

“I really don’t know,” I replied exhaustedly. That was the best I could do. I waved the paper. “It’s probably stupid but I feel like I believe him.”

“I don’t,” Callista said, breaking her silence abruptly. I hadn’t expected her to agree with me, but I was open to listening.

“If he’s on our side, and he’s been watching all this, why didn’t he show up to help when the plane was going down, and you were nearly being killed?” she said. “What is he talking about, this obligation?”

“I think he means the part where we die if Michael does,” Thad said under his breath.

Callista slid a step away from both of us, hands out defensively.

“Listen, I don’t even know you,” she said. Then, as if everything began to sink in to her at once, she blinked quickly and a frightened look overcame her. “I blew up a plane for you, and I just met you.” Her voice collapsed mid-sentence. “I blew up a plane. I’m a normal person. I don’t do things like this. I’m supposed to be at school right now. I’m supposed to be home. I don’t know how I got here!”

If she’d had been anyone but Callista, she might have broken into tears then. But she only clenched her fists and composed herself.

“I think I’ve already done my fair share,” she said in a hiss. “I’m not a part of whatever this Anon person is talking about. I just want to disappear and try to go back to normal.”

“And what do you think normal means now?” Thad broke in. I picked up on some already-begun conversation they were having, something they’d already argued about before I’d even arrived. Callista’s fists tightened even more.

“What do we have to go back to?” Thad continued. “Normal? They’ve already taken normal from us. You know that.”

“I could go home,” she whispered through her teeth.

“To what?” Thad argued. “They’ll find you there and kill you.”

“But I don’t want to be here!” she shouted.

“None of us want to be here!” I burst, the fury that I’d been withholding finally popping like a balloon.

It shut her up instantly, her mouth snapping closed as she stared at me with pain on her face. It shocked her so much that it forced a Glimpse: terror, sadness, ferociously bitter fury mixed with vengeance. It was like a cocktail of mental agony, so strong it felt like a nail punched into my chest, and I immediately regretted my words.

But I was right. We’d all been thrust into this against our will. That fact was only strengthened further when I looked around our tiny circle at the faces that stood across from me. Callista, the girl who I’d once thought was dead. Thad, the boy who I knew so little of, I had never even heard his last name. I doubted the three of us would have ever met had it not been for this chain of horrible events. It was like fate had unceremoniously shoved us together, but hadn’t been polite enough to provide an introduction.

“I know you wish you were back home,” I pressed on, my voice calmer now. “I do too. But we’re here now. And there’s a whole lot of people out there who seem to not want us around, and sooner or later they’re going to realize we’re still alive.”

The sides of Callista’s jaw bulged, her teeth ground together as tightly as she could force them. Her gaze wasn’t pointed at me though, looking downward, fighting to remain in control over herself. She knew I was right, she just didn’t want to admit it—not because it’d mean I won, but because it’d be admitting that going home wasn’t an option anymore. I found no victory in being right this time.

“And I don’t trust him either,” I said, lifting the letter. “But he’s right, we don’t have any other choice. You said it yourself yesterday: if we go home, they’ll follow us. And I’d rather spend the few days we have of not being chased down and shot at actually finding out why.”

I shifted my gaze to Thad. Out of both of them, I knew that he’d be the most likely one to support me. Already—and as much as it was against our wishes—we’d become a group, and when Thad nodded, it was a majority vote.

We rolled our sleeping bags but in the end figured that it wasn’t worth carrying them along. So we bunched them up into the corner of the cliff along with the bags of now-unneeded water bottles, hopeful that a wandering homeless person might find it and feel lucky. At least something positive might come out of our situation.

Taking flight was far easier this time than the others had been. There was a moment of thrill as I felt myself rising, but it was hard to take much joy in it.

Still, the strange familiarity of flying helped to calm my soul of its troubles. Part of me feared that I would soon take it for granted, that it was already weaving itself in as part of my being. If I just continued to believe that all of this would be over soon, then I’d be alright. It’ll all go back to normal, I tried to convince myself. But what if this was my new normal? The thought terrified me.

I had a good sense of where Anon’s written address was leading us: somewhere in Beverly Hills, no less, otherwise known to me as “that place where all the rich people live”. I’d been there a number of times, spying on targets while trying to disguise my long-range camera so I wouldn’t get thrown out. Sometimes I’d even gone down there on my own to get pictures for my walls. It was almost sad how tourists would stand outside and take picture by the neighborhood’s entrance sign. It was as if that was the most they ever aspired to be: a person left standing outside a gate, the lesser-known subject in a picture of them and a wooden sign.

We cut over hills and communities until we crossed out of the San Fernando Valley. The buildings were stacked together in clusters like shining gift boxes sorted into piles. A steady stream of heat hit me from both the sun above and the roads below, but the wind in my face managed to cool the sweat away. I could see different collections of buildings far off, cars darting in and out and massive jets passing unhindered above us.

I led them now: it was strangest because it felt right. As we flew, the landscape below changed again, becoming more suburban with sprawling houses dotting the ground between heavy trees and clipped yards. When the attached garages got to be larger than my entire home, I knew I was nearing the right place. We descended slowly upon a street until finally the tops of the houses were so close I could have scraped them if I’d reached. There were expensive cars shining in the long driveways, vast rows of extinguished lights leading up to grand entrances. I doubted my life savings could have even bought their doorknobs.

I kept checking the street signs. I realized how close we were to the ground. I still didn’t know the depth of my powers—how did the strange invisibility work when we flew, while I could still see the others near me? Was it true invisibility, even? Or just some type of chameleon-like effect? Either way, I was thankful because I could already see people walking and driving not far below us. We threw shadows, but the people were too distracted to notice.

Finally, I spotted the house’s number, painted against the curb for emergency crews to find at night. I swooped down and landed on the top of the mansion like a bug, my palms instantly burning against the red Spanish-style roof. I winced and stood up straight as the others fell to a stop beside me.

From where we stood, I could see a vast horizon of rooftops and chimneys—not nearly the view that had been in the sky, but at least a more telling one. Trees and fences blocked a lot of the houses. It felt too quiet for midday so close to Los Angeles, little more than the snipping of garden scissors and water hoses running. I guess you can get serenity if you pay for it.

“Is this it?” Thad said, stumbling on one of the looser tiles.

“You sound so unimpressed,” I replied. “You might be able to play basketball off this roof.”

“If it wasn’t so bumpy, I’d try.” He grunted. Callista, whose severity had lightened up during the flight, ventured away from us. She found the brick chimney and waved for us to come over.

“If we’re gonna do this, let’s get inside,” she said. “I haven’t figured out how no one can see us when we fly. But it’s not a good time to start testing it out now.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” I said. So I went to the edge and jumped over, hovering around in a circle as I descended. I saw the window right below the chimney and pushed myself toward it. There was a screen to keep bugs out so I extended a claw and sliced through it. The glass was unlocked, just as Anon had said it was. I grabbed both sides of the frame and pulled myself through.

The floor was further from the window than I thought. My face slammed into the carpet. A painful snort erupted from my nose.

Unfortunately, the other two had been right behind me so they’d seen the entire episode. I heard Thad and Callista trying to hold in laughter, even as they landed beside me. Neither of them volunteered to help me up this time.

“Come on, guys,” I told them, rubbing my now-sore nose.

“Shut up, Thad,” Callista commanded him, though she was having a harder time being quiet than he was. Inside, I was relieved that something had dispersed a little of the tense air.

I brushed the dust from the roof off my hands as Callista shut the window and pulled the curtains closed behind us. Our surroundings went dark as the window’s glow disappeared. We had entered a room of white and gray, a giant bed with folded sheets and an abundance of pillows against one wall, and opposite that a couch and flat-screen television nearly as tall as me. The floor was carpet, the softness of which my nose was still grateful for. Everything from the intricately threaded rug to the glass cabinets filled with pottery exuded wealth and perfection. Even the way the blanket rested languidly on the couch looked like a photo from an advertisement.

“This feels weird,” I observed.

“But we were invited, weren’t we?” Thad said.

None of us really dared to venture from the window at first, looking for any signs that we might have come to the wrong place—or worse, fallen into a trap. But Anon had been right so far, and the silence that embraced us and flowed freely throughout the vacant house only strengthened the truth in his directions.

“Who do you think lives here?” I asked them.

“Does someone live here?” Thad said. He gestured at the bed.

“That doesn’t look like it’s been used in a while,” he pointed out.

“Could be someone’s second home,” Callista suggested. Both Thad and I looked at her in disbelief.

“Come on,” she insisted. “You’re in Beverly Hills. People here have a few homes. Maybe they’re only here in the winter.”

“And Anon gets to send people here all the other seasons?” I pondered aloud. I felt a strange thrill at the idea of traipsing through this giant house—maybe finding pictures of its owner on the walls or family portraits scattered throughout. It could be a treasure trove for my Great Work.

The others followed me to the door and I could feel their anticipation as we crept out—everyone taking quiet steps even though we didn’t have to, whispering even though we quickly realized there was nobody around to hear us. The hallway was just as magnificent as the bedroom, walls lined with rich paintings illuminated by sunshine that streamed through skylights. The carpet was so thick it was like a layer of white moss beneath my shoes.

There were several doors on each side of the hall, all open and inviting us in. As I passed, I glanced inside them: a blue bedroom, a green bedroom, a tiled bathroom with two sinks and sparkling-clean mirrors. Everything was neat and made up like a model home, the only sounds coming from the gentle hum of the air conditioner. Oh such lavish extravagance: a house with air actually circulating. Should’ve invited my mom.

“This place smells like a department store,” Callista observed in a low voice. “It’s like the scary furniture section.”

“That place scares you too?” I said, grinning. “I thought I was the only one.”

“It’s a bunch of rooms with no walls,” she insisted. “It just doesn’t feel right. Ever since I was a kid I’ve hated that place.”

“Imagine it at night,” I said. She shivered.

“I don’t know what you two are talking about,” Thad said under his breath. “There’s nothing scary about a bunch of empty furniture and bedrooms.”

“But there’s no one here,” I said, waving my hand in front of us as we crept ahead. “That isn’t a little creepy to you?”

“I think it’d be much creepier if we ran into somebody,” Thad said. “And it’d be a bit hard to explain how we got in through the second story.”

“‘Sorry, a random letter we found on a cliff told us to break in,’” Callista said in dry retort.

We reached the end of the hall. It opened up to a balcony area with shelves of books against the walls, light streaming from a giant circular window that was high above the twin front doors, a chandelier hanging by a chain from the ceiling. A stairway with white railing curved down to the ground floor.

Everything was decorated beautifully. But no photographs, I noticed. Not a single portrait of a person, not even a painting of a face. All the artwork was of bland, nondescript things: flowers, animals, and shapes. No clues to the owner. No eyes for me to read.

We were all pressed together, having gone silent unintentionally. When we reached the top of the stairs, though, I finally spotted something that was out of place: three propped-up paper bags sitting in front of the door. They were from Trader Joe’s, the grocery store. Beside them, stuffed into the letter slot, was a thick white package.

“And there’s the note,” I told the others, already hurrying down the stairs. Hearing them so close behind sent a wave of déjà vu: hadn’t I dreamed of running up stairs with them? I pushed the feeling away in time for me to reach the bottom and pull out the envelope.

Just like the first letter, this one also had my name printed on the front. But the envelope was heavier: something far bigger than a letter inside. Anon must have had a lot of confidence in the fact that I would follow his instructions, or at least a lot of hope. I glanced around at the other’s faces, already full of so much expectation that I ripped the envelope apart.

Two things tumbled out. I managed to catch one but the other slipped out of my hand. I’d grabbed a rectangular and bulky object, wrapped in plain red gift paper. An old VHS tape had fallen to the floor, with a white note taped to its front. Callista swept it up.

“Be careful!” she told me. “You almost broke this thing.”

I reached to snatch the letter from the tape, but she was already opening it herself. Thad and I leaned over her shoulders:

To Mr. Asher,

I am grateful you are reading this. My hope in your survival has increased. You are already proving many people wrong.

By now, you are likely wondering who I am. Unfortunately, I cannot remedy that. Though we will correspond, you will never see my face, and you will never meet me. To risk myself being discovered will obliterate any chance we have of succeeding, now or forever. This is a more important part of the Grand Design than who you are in this life.

You may also be wondering why you are here. I have promised to answer this. But to tell you all the things about who you are in this page would be of no avail. You would not believe me, and I would be unable to answer all your questions.

However, I have been keeping some things for you for many years. One of those things is this videotape. The other is in the safety deposit box listed at the bottom of this page. Now that you have proven yourself in this further step, you should have them.

I have also included a gift for your birthday. Do not unwrap it until you have watched the tape.

Have courage. Don’t trust anyone.

ANON