"I'm taking her outside," Alex said, picking Debbie up with both arms. "It's okay, DebDeb. I've got you."
Debbie nestled her head against his chest and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. Her long hair fell across her face as he hugged her tightly. Yvonne looked up at him as he passed by.
"Do a sweep of the floor," he said. He paused briefly, noticing something weird on the floor. It was a blue shell, filled with fabric. "What the hell is -," he started to ask, then shook his head, "No. I don't want to know." He turned to Yvonne. "It's weird that nobody has come to get us yet. I want you to make sure that they're gone."
Yvonne nodded, then with a heavy heart she watched Alex go. As he instructed, she searched the room. There was nothing out of the ordinary, save for that blue plastic shell which was stuffed with cloth. She picked it up and turned it over in her hands. It wasn't heavy, but she thought that if she strapped it to her body, it would start to ache. Tossing it to one side, she finished searching the room, then she moved out into the hallway. She searched every room along that hallway, and they all looked the same. The same beige color scheme, the same layout, the same everything.
"This is creepy," Yvonne muttered as she closed the door to the last apartment. Lincoln Ambrose was a billionaire. Why would he choose to build an entire floor of studio apartments in his bunker? Yvonne supposed that the state-of-the-art technology was buried far below.
Yvonne searched the bunker from top to bottom before returning to Christopher. She made sure to lock the door to the living room where Christopher was holed up. They had found the bunker, and Christopher inside. Plus, as an added bonus, they had found Debbie. She was in rough shape, and Yvonne felt sorry for her.
Christopher had remained in the living room. Yvonne found herself thinking that it was an odd design choice. Was this side of the hallway all living rooms? Was there another hallway that was all bedrooms and bathrooms? She stopped herself from continuing with that train of thought.
"Go away," Christopher said, taking a step forward. He puffed his chest out to look bigger.
"Christopher," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "What do you think you're doing?"
Christopher jumped back. His eyes were wide and his jaw went slack as he searched for something to say. Finally, he demanded, "How do you know my name?"
Yvonne tilted her head to look at him. "Are you joking?" she asked.
"What is there to joke about?" Christopher asked, his voice high. "Lincoln said that you're the reason the world is ending! You're the reason the world is burning to the ground and people are fighting each other!"
Yvonne blinked slowly, then pinched the bridge of her nose. Men could be so stupid sometimes. If Christopher was pulling some kind of a prank on her, then she was not amused. In the background the television was still on, but it was paused. The image it was stuck on showed her, with her mouth open, in the middle of her confession of love for Alex. She groaned and wiped a hand over her face, a faint blush creeping up her cheeks.
"Christopher," she tried, "how exactly am I the reason the world is ending?"
Christopher paused, thinking. "Okay, maybe not you exactly, but you're his accomplice!" He pointed at the television. "You're Yvonne, right? I've been watching you. Holy. You're a piece of work, you know that? You know he has a girlfriend and you're just that desperate to get with him that you'll-"
"I get the point!" she snapped. "Listen, we have to leave. I don't think anybody's here right now, but they might come back and-"
"I'm not going anywhere," Christopher said, reclining in his seat. "If Lincoln's right and the world is ending, I'm safer down here. You go on, you get eaten by whatever monster Alex created in his quest for world domination."
"Nope!" Yvonne said, grabbing the armrest of her seat. "You are not doing this right now."
Christopher hunched his shoulders and his face contorted with anger. Defiance flashed behind his eyes as he flew to his feet, towering over Yvonne. She looked up at him, her heart racing, and an unexpected thrill shot through her.
"Oh, but I am!" Christopher snapped. "Why would I go anywhere with a complete stranger who-"
"I AM NOT A STRANGER!" Yvonne screamed. Christopher went white in the face, and she took three heaving breaths to calm herself down. Then, she looked up at him with fierce eyes. "I am not a stranger, Christopher. I'm your friend. Alex is your friend. We came here to find you."
That made Christopher calm down. His shoulder relaxed, and for the first time he looked like the Christopher she knew. No anger, just a friendly-faced young man who needed a push in the right direction.
"But you're his accomplice," Christopher said. "I know you are. This doesn't make any sense. Something's wrong…" he started pacing around the living room, running his fingers through his hair as he muttered to himself.
"His accomplice?" Yvonne repeated. "Who's- wait. Alex? Do you mean Alex?"
"The big guy?" Christopher said. "Yes, that's him. Lincoln told me that Alex wants to end the world so he can have a monopoly on saving peoples' lives. And they'll look to him as a hero, and they will love him all the more for it, and-"
Yvonne held up a hand. "I'm going to stop you right there, big guy," she said. "Alex Ambrose is not about to end the world because he wants to be a hero. You're thinking of Riley Naysmith."
"Alex killed him!" Christopher said, clapping with excitement. "Lincoln told me so!"
"And you believe everything this Lincoln tells you?" she asked, stepping forward slowly. Christopher didn't move, and Yvonne wasn't sure whether that was a good thing.
"Of course," Christopher said simply. "He took me in when I needed somewhere to stay. Mark told me I could trust him."
"Okay," Yvonne looked down at the floor for a moment. Then, she looked up into those frantic, scared eyes. "And who is Mark?"
Christopher paused. "He helped me when I fell over."
There it is, Yvonne thought. On the video they had watched, a man had come back to get Christopher, the same man Christopher had been chasing. Now, they had a name for this mystery man: Mark.
"Wait," she said. "You fell over? I bet you got a nasty knock on the head to go right along with it."
Christopher blinked, then rubbed his forehead. He dislodged a lock of hair which was covering a massive blue and yellow bruise. Yvonne grimaced at the sight of it. It looked painful.
"How did you know?" Christopher asked, sounding surprised.
Oh boy, Yvonne thought. How do I tell him that we watched him eat dirt on camera while chasing his buddy Mark?
"Why don't we sit down?" she said, taking a seat on the sofa. After a moment's hesitation, Christopher followed suit, and they sat across from one another as Yvonne tried her hardest to articulate what had been going on over the last few days. She told him about the tower blowing up, the house, and the renovation - although she left out the part where she confessed her love for Alex live on television - and she told him how they were all worried about Christopher.
"I think, when you hit your head," she said, "something happened and you lost your memories of us. We love you Christopher, and I'm not leaving you behind."
Christopher hung his head, an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck. He put his hands over his mouth and sighed heavily.
"I don't know what to believe anymore," he said. "How do I know that I can trust you?"
Yvonne shrugged. "I don't know how to prove that to you," she said honestly. "Best I can offer is that you come outside, and see that the world hasn't ended. Maybe you talk to Alex, Debbie if she's able. Maybe you see that we're not all that bad, and let us help you?"
It felt like a long time before Christopher fully relented and said, "Okay, let's go."
Relieved, Yvonne led him out of the bunker, where she showed him the blue afternoon sky, the fresh air, and the trees swaying in the breeze.
"Wow," he said. Then, he turned to Yvonne "The world isn't burning to the ground. That's a point in your favor."
"So one point to Yvonne," she said, pointing to herself, "and zero for Lincoln?"
Christopher thought for a moment. "Well see how this plays out. Where's Alex? There's still time to prove Lincoln right."
Yvonne smiled and shook her head. They found Debbie and Alex a few minutes' walk away from the bunker, just holding onto each other. The way the sun hit them, it illuminated them from behind, making them look like shadows. Yvonne's heart wept for them as she approached with Christopher.
"Hey, lovebirds," she called. "Look who I found!"
Alex and Debbie broke their embrace and turned around. Debbie's face was streaked with tears and mascara. Yvonne bit her lip, immediately regretting calling out to them the way she did. Debbie broke out into a wide grin when she saw Yvonne.
"I'm glad you're here," she said.
Yvonne blushed, embarrassed. "Even after-"
Debbie held up a hand. "Don't say it. After everything that's happened, I'm just happy to see a familiar face."
Yvonne shrugged awkwardly, then jerked her thumb at Christopher. "That whack on the head knocked out his memory. He doesn't remember us." She looked at Alex. "Your grandpa has been filling his head with all sorts of stories about us. Apparently, we're trying to end the world."
Alex looked over at Christopher, surprised. Christopher nodded, and put his hands in his pockets.
"I guess so," he said. He pulled his hair to the side, revealing the massive bruise he had sustained. Letting his hair flop back into place, he said, "Lincoln told me a lot of horrible things about you. And showed me some very dark, revealing videos." He glared at Alex, raising a knowing eyebrow. "I'm not your biggest fan right now, Ambrose."
"I understand," Alex said, nodding politely. "But please, let us help you get your memory back. I promise, we're your friends."
Christopher crossed his arms. "On one condition," he said.
"Name it!" Alex said, eager.
"How long have you been cheating on Debbie?" Christopher asked.
The question hung in the air like a stone. Yvonne watched as the color drained from Alex's face. Behind him, Debbie folded her hands over her stomach, and turned a little green, as if she might be sick. Debbie began to tremble so much that she shook where she stood, and Yvonne dashed over to support her so she wouldn't fall over.
"Why do you ask?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "What have they been telling you?"
Christopher bit his lip. "There was a girl there they were keeping safe. Her name was Kylie-"
"Stop right there," Alex said, gesturing wildly with his right arm. "It was once, and only once, and I've atoned for it."
Christopher raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure it was once, and only once?"
"Yes!" Alex snapped. "Why would it be otherwise?"
"Because Kylie had a massive baby bump," Christopher said. "She looked like she was getting ready to give birth. I thought Lincoln saved her because she was pregnant."
Alex's jaw dropped. "What?" he asked, dumbstruck. "I- I never- that's -"
It was then that Debbie spoke up. "The bump was fake."
Everyone turned to look at her. Yvonne was holding her around the shoulders, and Debbie was wiping away fresh tears.
"I thought it was real," Debbie said, her voice trembling. "Then, we got into a fight, and I think I detached it somehow. She was wearing a fake pregnancy bump to mess with my head."
"Oh my god," Alex gasped, covering his mouth with his hands. "Debbie… Oh god, I'm so sorry you- I'm sorry Kylie-"
Debbie shook her head. "Don't. Just, don't. I kicked her, then I felt bad because I kicked a pregnant woman, then the bump fell off."
"What did it look like?" Yvonne asked. "Only if you can remember."
Debbie went quiet as she thought. "A blue shell," she said. It had straps and looked like it was padded to add a little weight."
Yvonne turned to the boys. "That's what that weird shell was," she said. "In the room where we found her. Kylie wanted to get into Debbie's head to break her, so she faked a full-term pregnancy to imply it had been going on for longer than just the once."
"Maybe we could all stop talking about it?" Alex said, sounding tired. He turned to Christopher. "Are you satisfied?"
Christopher nodded. "I had a feeling that something was off down there," he turned to look toward the bunker. "They were weirdly obsessed with making sure I'd hate you all."
"That tracks," Alex said. "My grandfather and I have never seen eye-to-eye."
Christopher nodded. "Feels like that is putting it mildly," he said. "In any case I believe you're my friends. Is there any chance you can help me remember why we're friends?"
Alex smiled and turned to Yvonne and Debbie, then he turned back to Christopher.
"Of course there is," he said. "Come on, let's get you home."
******
Mark was a great gossip. He could remember all the tiny, dramatic details from people's lives. That's what appealed to him about spying. Even better, that's what made him a fantastic spy. He loved knowing more about people than they think he did. That was what he did with Alex Ambrose and his friends. He could probably write a biography about every single one of them, and have enough left over for sequels.
The problem with spying, Mark found, was that he came to care about his subjects. He collected information about people, true, and he built a picture of that person in his head. As much as Lincoln plotted to build the media image of his grandson as an evil doer, Mark couldn't reconcile that with what he knew of Alex Ambrose. Rather than crafty and mean spirited, Mark thought of Alex as resourceful and to the point.
"Prove me wrong, Ambrose," Mark said to himself as he secretly followed Alex and his friends through the forest.