The Metropolis Series #2: Quinn Beyond Bounds

THERE WAS A POINT IN TIME when I thought I could tell Curtis everything. I thought he was the type of guy who’d understand. Unfortunately, I had been proven wrong on a few occasions.

This was one of them.

I guess I shouldn’t have expected Curtis, a Metropolitan, to grasp the dynamics of an evil twin and to be hunted down for their crimes. Perhaps it was my fault that he was now, yet again, a rampaging monster. I did carelessly blurt out the possible transformation.

I gripped my tote bag and ran from under the table. He was instantly hot on my tail, ripping my once safe haven into shreds. If you haven’t realized, monsters in the Metropolis were fast. They weren’t like the zombies I initially deemed them to be, and most of the time, adrenaline would be the only thing that would fuel you to get away from them.

I ignored the fact that my lungs were close to collapsing as I ran into the kitchen, hiding behind the refrigerator so that I could catch my breath. I couldn’t care less where Curtis was; I had a few seconds of silence all to myself. Then, from a few feet away, a voice spoke.

“What’s happening over there?”

Rachael crouched behind the kitchen counter, her knees up to her chin. She held a pan up to her chest, and the patties she was preparing with Curtis earlier burned over a low fire; she didn’t bother to turn the stove off.

“I—I dunno,” I muttered. Curtis turned into a monster when I told him the truth. I couldn’t bear with another one.

“Where’s Curtis?” she implored.

When it came to specifics, lying became more difficult. Without anything to say, all I could muster was gasp.

“D—Don’t… move,” I whispered.

While Rachael looked confused from my sudden command, Curtis crept from the side of the counter, coming closer…

And closer…

And closer…

He pounced, and Rachael screamed. Without looking, she swung her pan toward him, hitting him in the face. She scrambled to her feet, gaping at her attacker, who was now limp on the floor.

“

Curtis?” Rachael shrieked.

But Curtis didn’t stay limp any longer. His legs and arms twitched, and slowly, he planted his palms on the ground. He began lifting himself up, and while his elbows and knees were still weak, I knew they wouldn’t stay that way very long.

“That’s not him,” I said, reaching for her hand.

And I dragged her out of the kitchen, both of us looking back. Curtis lifted his head up, bearing pristine white fangs. In a blink of an eye—his other one was swollen, thanks to Rachael’s pan—he sprang to his feet and charged.

He was lightning on his feet. His long arms made Rachael and I feel like toys in a claw machine—

And if it weren’t for a miracle, we would have been dead meat.

This said miracle came dashing into the middle of the hall in a hoodie. He stepped in between us and the monster and knocked him down with the hilt of his dagger. Julio had stepped into the scene. His eyes were wild, and a gash cut through his cheek.

“Again?” he muttered. “Get a grip, man. Seriously.”

“Okay, who are you?” Rachael chided.

“It’s not important,” Julio said hastily. “Now go. I’ll hold this bastard off.”

I scanned my surroundings. Things were quiet—too quiet. Even the living room, where Julio and Mackenzie had their standoff appeared eerily peaceful.

“And Mackenzie?” I raised.

Curtis thrashed on the floor again. He held up his head, and his red eyes glinted.

“Just go,” Julio urged. “Get out of here.”

For a second, Rachael was frozen. Perhaps she was trying to process all the weirdness around her, just as I had when all the Metropolis concocted the crazies. What was happening in the living room? Why was Curtis acting like a rabid monster? Who was this handsome stranger willing to risk his life to save us? (Well, that last one was assuming Rachael had faint memories of Julio. I still thought there was the slightest chance she had, no matter what logic dictated.) However, I couldn’t have her overthink.

It was for her own good.

With looming ambivalence, Rachael and I arrived at the living room, our footsteps echoing amidst the high ceiling. Most of the furniture had been knocked down, and the pool area was empty. The sight should have been comforting; there was a chance that all of Curtis’ guests were able to flee from the scene. Bree and Philip must have made it out safely, as well—unless they turned into monsters like Curtis.

Shut up, Quinn.

“Quinn, what the hell is going on?” Rachael demanded.

I flinched as her voice bounced off the walls, fading slowly into the void. Mackenzie could still be around somewhere. The last thing I needed was another surprise attack.

“Quiet,” I hissed. “Let’s just get out of here, okay?”

“And who’s Mackenzie?” Rachael asked again.

Then, someone nearby groaned. I paced gingerly toward the sound, and behind one of the couches, I found Mackenzie seated on the floor, catching her breath. Her dagger lied beside her as she clutched her arm, both her weapon and the sleeve of her jacket stained scarlet.

“That’s Mackenzie…” I whispered.

“What?” Rachael uttered, her voice still louder than it should. She then turned to where I was looking and let out a small gasp.

“Is she with that guy earlier?” she questioned.

“She used to be…” I told her.

I pulled her aside, away from Mackenzie’s line of sight. My thoughts then went to Ms. Louise, who was probably still waiting for me at the back of the house. I considered taking Rachael with me, considering how important she was to Julio. I could imagine the relief on his face when he would find her in The MacGuffin with me. The thought felt enough to put our differences aside, even for just one dangerous night.

“We should go,” I began. “There’s someone waiting for us at the back. She’ll take us somewhere safe.”

“Where?” Rachael asked. “Who?”

I couldn’t bear the number of questions anymore.

“I’ll explain later,” I settled for a reply. “Now let’s go.”

I scurried silently toward the pool area, Rachael following behind me. She didn’t say another word, much to my relief. We couldn’t waste any more time.

I breathed in the smell of pool water, felt the chill of the November air on my skin. We were just steps away from escaping when I heard a voice spoke.

“Cassandra…” it groaned.

I was stupid to turn around. Maybe things would have turned out differently if I had just ignored it and ran away, but now that I thought about it, Mackenzie would have most likely followed me and Rachael to The MacGuffin, and all that fighting would have been for nothing.

And so, Mackenzie stood, her eyes a raging ocean as she seized her knife. Slowly, she approached us, swinging her weapon from side to side.

“Why so sad?” she taunted. “The horror’s about to end…”

I glanced at Rachael’s alarmed expression. Mackenzie seemed to ignore her presence. She must have been too focused on catching Cassandra, for sure.

“Go,” I whispered to Rachael. “Find someone called Ms. Louise.”

I said that name quietly as I can. It was almost like I was asking Rachael to read my lips.

“What?” Rachael said. “But are you gonna be okay?”

“Please,” I egged on. “Just go.”

But Rachael wouldn’t budge. She was probably just fear-stricken, but I didn’t have the time to think about that.

At that moment, Mackenzie surged forward, swinging her dagger toward where my face was. I ducked, frantically reaching for the knife Julio had given me. It was tucked right at the bottom of my tote bag; it was a miracle that I was able to pull it out just in time for me to deflect Mackenzie’s second strike. I wasn’t sure how I was doing this, how I was fighting back, but somehow I managed to survive the first few seconds without a single scratch.

Take a minute to read that: the first few seconds.

Mackenzie slashed at my forearm, and I was blacking out from the pain. Of all things she could wound first, it had to be my right arm, which I did everything with. She tried to strike again, but Rachael stepped in, pinning her arms from behind. Mackenzie struggled but proved to be the stronger one of two, breaking free from Rachael’s grip. It was only then that Mackenzie acknowledged Rachael’s presence, greeting her with a grin.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” she heckled.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Rachael panted, reaching for any nearby item she could use to her disposal. Whatever she picked up, it did quite well at whacking Mackenzie in the face. It hung from a string—no wait, a cord. To my surprise, it was a video game controller. Mackenzie growled, taking the hilt of her dagger to Rachael’s head. Rachael crumpled to the floor, and I was left to face Mackenzie—

Alone.

I gripped my knife until I could feel my nails dig into my palm. Perhaps Julio had jinxed me when he said I couldn’t fight, so he gave me this weapon to take it back. It wasn’t enough.

I could barely lay a finger on Mackenzie, let alone defend myself against her strikes. I was tired, wounded, and out of breath. My surroundings grew hazy, and black spots formed around my eyes. Their little dances taunted me, and I was ready to give up.

I couldn’t do this anymore.

Was it too much to ask for a miracle?

In the chaos, I closed my eyes.

Rewind time…

Rewind time…

Things ͟àr͝e w̡r̡ón̸g.͘ Rewind ̀t̵ime….

.

.

.

I opened my eyes, parting my fingers so that I could see. A dark figure stood before me, her fist grasped around Mackenzie’s wrist. Her long locks blew in the wind, revealing her red eyes and sinister grin.

“Missed me?” asked Cassandra.