Misdirection

Part I, Chapter 1: Freeform Escapism

MARIBEL

The oncoming highways were backed with traffic; I had assumed that they were leaving the city in a panic. The drive to the Capitol was long and stressful, carefully navigating through traffic in my shoddy maroon sedan.

I had sloppily thrown on a lab coat and slacks before I had left. My hair was still wet from the shower, and I was still in a daze from what had just happened not but ten minutes ago.           

Remmy was right beside me in the passenger seat, silently eating his spaghetti-to-go from a Tupperware plastic bowl. He had also brought along his trusty black backpack, with a thick wooden baseball bat sticking out from it.

"Rem, why'd you bring your baseball bat?" I asked.

"Just in case we run into crazy people. I wanna be armed," he softly stated, watching the night sky pass by from the window. "I just hope the sandwich man is okay. I don't know why someone would try to hurt him."

I gulped.

Bringing Remmy was the worst decision I had ever made. I wanted him to be safe, but I also didn't want him to see the dark side of life; The killings, murder, theft and assassination happening in the real world. Remmy is a real handful to take care of at times, but he's still a good kid. He didn't deserve to be brought up in this kind of environment. I thought moving closer to the Capitol would be better for him, what with the low crime rate and all.

And for a time, it was. Until now.

I just had to ask. "Rem, how are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," he lies.

"Well, I'm not."

He quickly turns and looks up at me. "What are you talking about? You're always okay."

"I'm only okay when you're  okay. And you're clearly not okay."

"Yes I am," he states dramatically, holding up his plastic bowl in my face. "I finished my entire spaghetti, and I only eat when I'm okay!"

I kept my eyes on the road. "You always eat, Rem. You're like a bottomless pit of misbehavior and Kool Aid, whether you're okay or not."

"...I guess you're not wrong," he says as he lowers his bowl from my face. "But really. I'm fine. I swear."

There was a brief silence, with only the sound of the wind passing through the windows. 

I decided it was too quiet, and quickly turned the radio on to my favorite jazz music station.

"...I hate jazz," Remmy mumbled.

"It's art," I explained. "The musicians are conveying their heavy emotions through the power of song."

"All I hear is a bunch of horns."

"You mean 'brass instruments'," I staunchly corrected him. "But listen closely. This song was made my a man who lost the love of his life, and you can hear it in the somberness of the saxophone and piano here. It really gets through to the people that can relate."

"So...he loses his girlfriend, so he decides to make sad, boring horn music?"

I shrugged. "Well, yeah. It helps. Whether you're happy or sad, jazz really does get all of the sad emotional juice out of you."           

Remmy's eyes lit up upon hearing that. "So... what does happy jazz sound like? You always play the sad stuff."

Excited by his sudden shift in curiosity, I quickly turned the radio to the freeform jazz station. Several instruments blared at once; a jumpy bassline, frantic drums, a sassy trombone and the occasional upbeat piano.

When that beautiful saxophone solo hit, I leaned over at Remmy with the smuggest smirk of all time.

"It sounds like this, Rem."

Remmy stared wide-eyed at the radio. "It's all over the place! Like a bunch of instruments fighting each other!"

"See? It's not just a bunch of horns," I stated factually. "Jazz is feeling, given form. It makes you feel something, right?"

I looked over, and that boy was bouncing in his seat along with the music, throwing his fists around in the air as if he were fighting the music himself.

Seeing him fight the air around him made me grin from ear to ear. Everyone needs a momentary escape sometimes. Even a little brother. 

It felt nice to see him back to his former self, even for a little moment.

I bobbed my head to the music as we headed down the freeway, with Remmy laughing and dancing along the way.                     

...

It was all fun and games and laughter. Until we had finally reached the Capitol.

For a moment, time had completely stopped. Words could not describe the horror.

I turned the radio off.

"...Why'd you stop?" Remmy asked. He was still fidgeting around and dancing.

"Remmy..." I whispered. "Cover your eyes. Now."

He mumbled under his breath as he did so. "Why don't you let me see anything..."

The city was covered in blood.

The street was ablaze, with two crashed helicopters in the middle of the intersection. The lifeless corpses of numerous soldiers lined the sidewalk, with several paramedics tending to the wounded. Some of the guards I'd see everyday on the way to work were now lying on their back, soaked in a pool of their own blood.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing. This isn't happening , I would close my eyes and tell myself, only to open them again and see the same scene. It wasn't a dream, or a nightmare. This was real. I could only hope that through whatever had happened, Professor Lazzari and Edith were okay.

After blocking the image out of my head and driving past it all, we finally had reached our destination.

A gigantic white dome-shaped center stood before us, with the name "MYNA INDUSTRIES" shining in big green and white neon lights. White smoke spouted from various towers around the complex, giving it an almost ominous vibe. Workers in lab coats and casual wear were flooding into the building. All of the other Myna staff had gotten the memo as well. 

"Can I look now? My face hurts," Remmy whined.

I sighed, knowing things were only going to get worse from here.

"Yes," I said, unfastening my seatbelt and bracing myself. "We're here."