Tess absentmindedly searched for the phone with her hand as it rang for the third time. It barely registered to her, she was deep into her newspaper. Two young girls were snatched from a playground in a poorer area of San Diego and police were barely responding. They told reporters the usual bullshit; “we’re doing the best we can but we can only do so much.” Tess curled her lip in disgust. When a 20-something college student from a wealthy family was abducted from a party at a frat house a few months back the cops turned the city upside down, invading homes and offering lavish rewards to anyone with information. Tess didn’t want anyone to be kidnapped regardless of age or status, especially when they usually ended up in human trafficking rings, but it was much more obvious that the cops were just mercs. They did nothing for the poor but when the rich said “jump” they said “how high?” The phone rang again, jolting Tess out of her thoughts.

  “What?!” She yelled into the receiver.

  “Meet me at your house tonight,” a voice grumbled in a Texan accent. Scruffers. Tess was starting to think he’d died, it’d been so long since she heard from him.

  “Now why would I want your surly ass at my house, Richard Leroy?” Tess smirked as she lowered her newspaper. Calling him by his given name always got him fired up. Scruffs had long retired from the San Diego Police Department, and he became more and more ornery with age.

  “First, you know how much I hate my name, second, trust me.”

  “Why?”

  “Goddamnit, i ain’t gonna do you wrong. This is exactly what you’ve been waitin’ for. Maeve gave me a tip i know you’d die for. Just be there.” Tess laughed. She and Leroy always bickered like an old married couple but they instantly bonded when they realized they were both born and raised in Texas. It was strictly platonic, familial. He was like an eccentric uncle. Uncle Scruffers.

  “How is Maeve doin? Workin on that Chief of Police position like her old man?” Tess genuinely hoped this wasn’t the case, but she tried to be supportive. Scruffs knew this.

  “Aw Tess she’s barely holdin’ on.” Scruffs’ voice was very stressed. “She hates everything about being a cop, but she says she wants to do something good and if passing info is all she can do, she’ll take one for the team.”

  “She needs to stay safe, those cops can be backstabbers–” Tess started, but Scruffs interrupted.

  “I lecture her all the time. She’ll be with me tonight, so you can say what ya need then, but she might snap your head off.” Tess rolled her eyes.

  “Sounds good, ya scruffy old bastard. Bring beer or something, i’ll grill.” She started to hang up then thought of something. “Do not bring light beer under any circumstances!” She hung up the phone.

  –-

  The next night, Tess was sitting on the sofa of her makeshift living space surrounded by boxes, stacks of books and research. Notebooks and papers were scattered on the coffee table and on the couch. Maps with notes were tacked onto nearly every inch of the nearby wall and her computer was on with more maps glowing in the browser. She had a mission; she was going to find the San Diego Underground, like her aunt and uncle wanted, and she was going to keep it a secret, using it to hide runaways and victims of human trafficking. They told Tess about their hunt when she first came to San Diego, eventually it became her dream and she vowed that she’d find it, even if they were no longer here to help her look, and she needed to do more to make that dream a reality.

  The possibility for more came last night when Scruffers called her with a tip from his daughter, Maeve. According to them, a sale involving several children and a few young teens would take place tomorrow night at the private dock in a wealthy subdivision on the Silver Strand. There would be two buyers and three sellers. Maeve had tried to have it investigated, but everyone brushed her off. She, Tess and Scruffs were all willing to take bets that some of those douchebag cops were actually guarding the human trafficking scum. The current Chief of Police, Manon, threatened Maeve with being fired if she didn’t drop it. She reluctantly agreed but brought it to her father and Tess in hopes of somehow thwarting these bastards. Scruffers was very clear; the buyers and sellers wouldn’t be left alive and Tess needed to choose whether or not she was going to cross this line. There was no turning back. Tess didn’t even let him finish. I’m in, she had shouted, feeling her heart pound. Tonight, she was attempting to distract herself from the anticipation; she’d waited so long to be able to do more than “official” work.

  It was strangely quiet in downtown San Diego, even for a Tuesday night. The house was empty aside from Tess. She sat on the floor, going through her notes over and over but nothing was working; she simply could not concentrate. She finally set the papers down, stood up and began pacing around her research oasis, noticing little things that needed to be repaired. She noticed that the drywall in some places was dented and crumbling. When her aunt and uncle passed away, they left the house to her. It had been in the family for decades and had been built when the city of San Diego was established in 1848. It was long paid off, so all Tess had to do was pay for maintenance and taxes. Her job paid a decent salary, so she was saving her money to renovate the entire building. If she ever found the Underground, she planned to somehow connect it to this building then patch up and possibly furnish any rooms or spaces in it.

  Tess mainly lived in her tiny study space on the ground level floor surrounded by all of this stuff. The basement and 2 ?-ish floors above the ground floor were a mess, but she felt like changing them would betray the memory of her aunt and uncle. Obviously leaving the house the way they left it didn’t bring them back, but it helped her feel like they were still there in spirit. After a while, Tess yawned and started straightening things up. She stacked the papers and notebooks on the coffee table and turned her computer off. She wrapped herself in a quilt and got comfortable on a couch, the only place she could sleep for years after they passed away. For a while, she stared at the ceiling and thought about the five people that would die. She wondered if her aunt and uncle would approve, she wondered if she approved, then she wondered why she gave a shit because no one else would help these children and anyone harming children in any way deserved every horrific thing they got. Eventually she fell asleep dreaming that, somehow, this complete switch in the way she did things would work out perfectly.

  –-

  The next day was a whirl of nervousness and mania, Tess tried to keep herself busy. She managed to calm her nerves after a while and started getting ready. She showered several times, scrubbing off dead skin, and carefully tied up her wild red hair so she wouldn’t lose any strands at what would become a crime scene. When the sun began setting, she found a casual outfit that she hadn’t worn since college, a jacket and a tiny backpack. She purposely left behind all forms of ID, but crammed in her gun and a silencer, a ski hat, an alligator mask, some small binoculars, a new pen and some scraps of paper in case she needed to write something down. She always found herself needing to write things down.

  Tess did one last check to make sure she had everything she needed, then made her way to the door, reminding herself to breathe. She shook her head and scowled; she had to get it together. Scruffs and Maeve needed her calm and collected, not scattered and clumsy. She may have been a cop, but she avoided field work; she never had to shoot anyone. She looked over her shoulder into the mirror next to the door. Despite her anxiety, her brown eyes sparkled. This is what she wanted to do with her life. This is all she wanted to do. For the 32 years she had been alive and aware of injustice, she poured everything into helping people the “right way," first by liberating the children of the cult she was born into, then as a cop, and now as a guidance counselor, but she felt it wasn't enough.

  Her background made her more than ready to tackle her education because she realized how lucky she was to gain access to it. She studied hard in high school, went to community college to keep costs down, got a bachelor’s degree in psychology from New York University, then a master’s degree in psychology at San Diego State University, but it hadn’t helped her reach her goals. She always felt like there was some invisible line–more like an impossible barrier–that she just could not seem to fight her way across no matter how hard she tried.

  Being a cop was awful. Tess quickly realized that most cops were just ego tripping assholes. They seemed to help criminals use technicalities to get away with doing anything they wanted as law enforcement looked the other way at every turn. When she took the job as a guidance counselor, she hoped it would somehow be what she was looking for. In some cases it was helping but it still just wasn't enough.. so this was it. But could she kill someone, even if that someone was a garbage human being? Would her reflection look different after tonight? Would her bright eyes still sparkle? She swallowed and looked down, then walked out the door, locking it behind her.

  The sun had set and the city lights lit Tess’s way to Horton Plaza, where Scruffs would meet her, both of them on foot. From there they would go to the 901 bus stop on Broadway and 3rd Avenue. Tess loved Horton Plaza, she called it the Escher mall because of its abstract stairs which were very confusing and it’s “Dr. Seuss-esque” design. She used to read there at night when she was studying at San Diego State, because she’d never seen anything like it. She wished she had artistic ability; all of her attempts at drawing it had failed miserably. Tess approached her spot on the 3rd floor, looking directly toward the US Grant Hotel. She sat on the edge of the wall, waiting for Scruffs and thinking about the Underground more. She gazed around, seeing sewer covers and wondering if any of those could be an entrance, or maybe a storm drain, and then she got irritated at the whole situation. Why was it so hard to find? Who wanted to hide the Underground so thoroughly? A few hours later, around 10 pm, Scruffs stalked over to her.

  “It’s about damn time, thought i was gonna have to send out a search party.” Tess snarked. He turned to face Tess and rolled his eyes. His salt and pepper grey hair was reflecting the colorful city lights, making him look like he had rainbow hair but looking like his usual surly, grumpy self, but festive. Tess giggled and Scruffs looked confused.

  “Are you ready?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be. Where’s Maeve?”

  “She’s already there, scoping out the situation. Let’s get to the bus.” They started walking, got to the bus stop and hopped on the bus, discussing details quietly. The buyers were part of an amateur trafficking ring. They owned two properties side-by-side with two docks in Coronado Shoals. The leader’s father recently died, leaving him an obscene amount of money, which is how he bought these properties with cash and under a fake name. Being a spoiled dumbass, he decided he should sell humans rather than do something worthwhile with his time. The property was positioned and tailored so that when a boat pulled up, it would block all activity from possible onlookers, and Maeve was waiting. She wouldn’t make a move until the sellers saw the buyers alive, so as not to scare them away.

  An hour had passed and it was pitch black out aside from some stars and a sliver of shining moon in the sky. Tess and Leroy were almost at Coronado Shoals. They sat, staring at each other, wordless communication being transmitted. He’d killed people before in the line of duty. He wasn’t afraid of this. Scruffs nodded dutifully and pulled the cord, signaling the driver to stop. They stood up, Tess a little slow and wobbly.

  “Come on,” Scruffs barked impatiently. They exited the bus and Tess breathed in deep. Scruffs looked annoyed for a second, then his facial expression softened. “Look, Red, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, we can just go home and–

  “I’m doing this,” Tess said flatly.

  “Well, what the hell, do it or don’t, but ya gotta get it together. Ya can’t freeze on us.” He put a ski hat on then stared at her.

  “You’re right. Let’s go over the plan again.” They glanced at the security guard as they walked by, casually hiding their faces. They went the opposite way of their destination to throw him off and circled around, though he wasn't concerned; he was preoccupied by a book and absently waved them by. It was a fairly long walk so they had a decent amount of time to smooth out fine details. They were going to try and sneak onto the yacht, but if that wasn’t feasible, they were going to wait until the people got off of the yacht, then snatch the kids and kill the sellers. Maeve and Scruffs were the designated assassins, Tess was the lookout. As they walked for what seemed like forever, some residents threw them some suspicious looks, at which point Tess disguised her voice then started animatedly asking if they took a wrong turn somewhere; she thought the party was the other way. After this happened a few times, they picked up their pace. They finally got to the property and located Maeve, ducking down next to her.

  “Oh my god!” Maeve hissed, exasperated. “Where the hell have you been? I thought you’d never get here.”

  “Relax,” Scruffs said. “We’re here when we said we’d be here.”

  “Yeah and I could have used some company, ugh.” She looked relieved.

  Tess pulled her ski hat and her binoculars out of her back pack, putting on the hat and a mask. Maeve pulled her own mask so that all you could see was her eyes, Scruffs following suit. They sat waiting for another hour, not making even the tiniest of sounds. Tess looked around at the property; it was huge! Two massive houses side-by-side, two docks, walls that blocked wandering eyes went between this property and the ones bordering it. The walls stretched out into the water so that the docks were also very private. It was too bad this beautiful place was being used for such nasty purposes. Tess felt the cool breeze on her skin and smelled the saltwater. She wondered if everything would smell different to her after tonight.

  It seemed like forever when the yacht finally arrived. It was called Osiris. The arrogance of naming their yacht after that particular Egyptian God made Tess feel sick. God of the Egyptian Underworld?

  “Osiris would eat you alive,” Tess snarled under her breath. Maeve tutted in agreement and Scruffs shushed them. They heard a house door open and close, then two men walked to the dock. It was obvious that they were amateurs–they looked pale as ghosts and were very shaky, as if a stiff wind would knock them on their asses. The area was poorly lit, and Tess squinted at the yacht as a small figure in all black hopped out onto the dock and tied it up. The men stiffened and forced a “tough guy” act. They started saying something but it was hard to make out. On the way back to the yacht, the figure glanced up at the men. They said something and started laughing boisterously. The yacht attendant turned slowly to glare at them. Oh wow! She was a girl, a very young girl, and she wasn’t pleased. She swore at them and they laughed loudly.

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

  “You for sale, too, honey? I like ‘em feisty!” One of them said in between guffaws. The girl they were talking to couldn’t have been more than 13 years old. This was funny to these pigs, the sale, slavery and rape of children was funny to them. All of the kids that Tess saw at the high school, the ones reported for excessive absences then disappeared shortly after said reports, she knew some were victims of human trafficking. She could tell. The way they carried themselves, the defeated stance, numb with a faraway look in their eyes. It was tragic, and here were these scumbags, laughing at them. Tess felt her face get hot as the rage set in. She set her backpack down and got closer, watching from the bushes right next to the dock. She looked back at Scruffs and Maeve, who were frantically shaking their heads and motioning for her to come back. Tess refused. She looked back over at the yacht just in time to see the attendant strike one of the men. She punched the loudmouth right in his throat and kicked him as hard as she could in the crotch. He howled in pain and dropped to his knees, swearing. When his knees hit the dock, there was an audible crunch of bones breaking. Tess cringed. That had to hurt, she thought. He snarled loudly, and the girl punched him in the throat again to shut him up.

  “You little bitch,” he hissed, reaching for her with his free hand, the other hand holding his throat in shock.

  “Bad idea,” said a high, silky voice with a thick Greek accent. This girl was around the same age as the first girl and was taller. She reached out of the yacht and held a machete to the man’s throat, pulling it across as blood poured out, his eyes wide in shock. The other man backed away slowly, then tripped and fell. Two preteen boys popped out of the yacht and went to the man that fell, slitting his throat as well. Tess’s eyes were like saucers. She put her hand over her mouth to avoid making any noise and stared at Scruffs and Maeve who were also frozen. Maeve looked like she didn’t know what to do, Scruffs was holding her upper arm to keep her in place. Tess looked back at the dock; the whole point of this mission was to do exactly what these girls were doing, so she just watched in amazement.

  “Now what?” The first girl—she had a Ghanaian accent—looked lost. “Should we push them into the water?”

  “No, we don’t want the bodies floating around, attracting attention,” stammered the other girl shakily. The Ghanaian girl gave a firm nod.

  “Let’s get them on the yacht,” said the girl with the Greek accent. A bunch of kids—probably 8 of them—gathered around the gangway then roughly dragged the bodies onto the yacht and kicked them to the side. The Greek girl looked at the children. “Take them far offshore and drop them into the water. If you cut them, sharks will come for their blood. They will never ever be found. Ok?”

  Tess gulped. This girl was not playing games. Tess moved closer, doing her damnedest to not be seen. The kids surrounded the girls. They were all crying, but they were happy tears. Tess was baffled. The two girls touched each of the little one’s faces, crying and kissing their foreheads. The kids were reaching out to them like they were their mothers.

  “My darlings,” said the Greek one quietly, holding on to a little boy’s hand and gazing around at the tear streamed faces. “You will be ok,” she choked out. “We’re finally free!” She looked at the boy who was holding her hand. She kneeled down. “Alek, little one, do you still have the address i gave you?” Alek nodded. “You all can send me mail, but be careful. Use our secret names, ok?” Alek nodded again and started crying quietly. She kissed him on the cheek and hummed him a song, hugging him close to her. He calmed down. She stood up again, letting go of Alek’s hand. He sniffed. A boy in the back, probably 14 or 15, came to the front. He took the short girl’s hand.

  “Sister,” he said in a Ghanaian accent, then he looked over at the tall one and smiled warmly, “...sisters. We will always be in your debt. No matter where you go, if you ever need anything and we can help, we will be there for you. We are family.” He kissed them each on both of their cheeks. “I would die for either one of you.” All of the kids touched the girl’s hands and said their goodbyes. The kids went back onto the yacht and slowly let their hands separate. The two girls on the dock untied the yacht and tossed the ropes into it, then the yacht headed out into the harbor. The girls turned and started moving toward the house. They stopped and breathed. They looked back at the blood on the pier. The shorter one stared for a second and then cried. The taller one held her and cried, too.

  “We’re free, Aisha,” whispered the tall one, shaking. “We’re free.”

  “I know, i know,” said Aisha, rocking her back and forth.

  For the first time, Tess saw them from the side in the light from the house’s windows. She gasped quietly, but loudly enough that it caught their attention. She clapped her hand to her mouth. Both of these girls were pregnant! Probably 6 or 7 months. They started and looked in her direction. Tess jumped up and backed away. The tall girl immediately put herself between Tess and Aisha then followed Tess, looking panicked.

  “Neesi, no,” Aisha whispered desperately. She started moving toward Neesi but could barely keep up. They both moved pretty quickly but still slower than Tess. Tess bolted over to where Scruffs and Maeve were and they leapt out on either side of her, both pointing guns at Neesi. Neesi stopped dead in her tracks. She started crying, slowly at first and then hysterically.

  “Please don’t hurt us, please,” Neesi begged. “I just wanted to know why you’re here. We’ll leave you alone, we promise. Just please, please don’t tell anyone about us, please.” She dropped to her knees. Aisha ran up and blocked Neesi, staring into Tess’s eyes. Scruffs looked confused but lowered his gun. Maeve looked back and forth between everyone, bewildered.

  “What- what-” Maeve choked out. “What is this?”

  “They’re ok,” Tess assured Maeve. She put her hand on Maeve’s gun and pushed it down, shaking her head. Maeve stared in disbelief. “They only killed those men out of necessity, now they’re just protecting each other.”

  “But- but-”

  “But they beat us to the punch, and only because they had to. Now holster your gun, Maeves.” Scruffs said gently. She complied, still in shock.

  “Ok but.. please tell us what happened,” Maeve requested of the girls.

  Neesi looked at Aisha who nodded, then they explained everything. They told Tess that they were stowaways and the children aboard the yacht were sent here to be sold. Some for sex, some for labor. Aisha and Neesi ran because–they looked down at their swollen bellies when they said this–they learned that their children would be taken and sold. They hadn’t known if they wanted to give the babies up for adoption when everything was planned, but they knew they absolutely would not have them in that hell-hole. They were owned by a wealthy human trafficker in Egypt. He was called Vemz, short for Vemseji, which meant “monster.” All of the kids were Vemz’s purchases.

  Neesi and Aisha had known each other since before they could remember. Tess’s guess about their ages was spot on; Neesi was 14 and Aisha was 13. They lived their entire existence terrified and they were each other’s rocks, they became more like sisters than friends. They did everything they could to figure out a way to escape, and they finally found a name–“Victoria, the Stray.” She was in San Diego, and she ran an “anti-crime” organization that freed victims of human trafficking. They got in touch with her and planned to overtake the yacht that they would be on then continuing to San Diego.

  Victoria told Neesi and Aisha that they would have to kill their captors, that it wouldn’t be easy but that it was this act in exchange for their freedom. There had been three traffickers on the yacht, and getting the others on board with their plan was a cakewalk. They watched the traffickers operate the yacht in order to learn how to run it themselves, then they took it over. They killed the three men in charge and threw them overboard at sea. Neesi and Aisha became the other children’s surrogate parents. Afterward, at the dock, it had been all too easy to take out the other two scumbags after what they had already done. They said they thought they would feel horrible, but they felt nothing. They said these men deserved what they got, and if they had the choice they would do it again, if not for themselves, for the other kids.

  When Neesi and Aisha got to their destination, they were to make a collect call from a payphone; they had both memorized the number. They were to say their location when the automated voice asked for a name. That is where Victoria would meet them and take them to her safehouse. The other kids were taking the yacht to one of Victoria’s private docks where it would be repainted, renamed and loaded up with food and clothes. They were even told that the kids would get some more detailed lessons on how to run a yacht and how to fight.

  “They are going to name the yacht Chanto,” Aisha told Neesi, smiling. They both laughed to themselves with tears in their eyes.

  “What you all did… was very brave, very strong,” Tess said breathlessly. She stared at the girls in awe then decided to take a risk. “How would you two like to come to my house and get cleaned up, maybe get some food? You can stay with me for a night or two and call Victoria whenever you want.” Neesi and Aisha lit up but fidgeted nervously when they saw the alarm on Scruffs’ face.

  “We would not want to impose,” said Neesi. Tess half-smiled. Scruffs and Maeve looked worried and Maeve started shaking her head.

  “You are not imposing at all,” Tess said pointedly, scowling at her companions, “and i would love to meet Victoria. I know it isn’t much, but really, i can offer you a couple of meals and a warm bed, if you’d like.” Tess thought for a moment; she didn’t want to overstep boundaries, but many of the kids she spoke to at the school wanted very few things, and among those things were opportunities to bathe and wash their clothes. “You can take a hot shower and do your laundry. My laundry detergent is spring fresh. It smells wonderful!” Aisha and Neesi looked at each other. Maeve relaxed, rolling her eyes. Scruffs grinned.

  “Ok,” said Aisha. “But we insist on cleaning or something for y–“

  “No.” Tess interrupted. “I want you to eat and rest. Nothing more. Please?”

  “O-ok..” said Neesi. She suddenly hugged Tess and started crying again. Tess stared at Scruffs, tears forming, and hugged Neesi back, then Aisha joined in.

  Tess felt like she had seen it all in her lifetime: she’d been closer to certain things in her childhood than anyone should be and she spent all those years before college taking care of the kids that escaped her blood family’s compound. When she became a cop then a guidance counselor, she learned that there were somehow even worse things than what she’d already seen, but nothing prepared her for the heart wrenching battle that these girls went through. The horror of it all knocked the wind out of her and, while she was absolutely gleeful about a possible connection with Victoria, her heart broke for these girls and she hugged them a little tighter. They had probably never been hugged by an adult in their lives.

  They all walked out of Coronado Shoals and halfway to Coronado Island. Scruffs and Maeve insisted on carrying the few things the girls had with them, then they called a cab at a nearby payphone because the buses were not running this late. When they got to Tess’s place, she paid the cab fare as Scruffs unlocked the doors and opened them for the girls. Scruffs and Maeve decided to stick around both out of concern and protectiveness. Tess scolded them, telling them that this is what she wanted to do and they had better get used to it. Food was made and the girls were shown around the house. It was messy and Tess was a little embarrassed, but Neesi and Aisha loved the house and were very appreciative. Tess asked them about their kids, if they were going to keep them or not because of the circumstances. They recoiled at the idea of giving them up; both of them had become attached to the children and said that, regardless of the situation, they just couldn’t give them up. They thought about it, they were afraid they would resent them, but they just couldn’t see things playing out that way. Neesi, Aisha, and the two babies were a family now, no matter who their father was. Tess smiled. She showed them where the phone was so that they could call Victoria, then she showed them to their rooms, though they insisted on staying in a single room together. She told them to make themselves comfortable and get some rest, and then went downstairs. Eventually Tess, Scruffs and Maeve fell asleep on various couches and the floor talking about everything that happened.

  –-

  The next morning, Victoria and her bodyguards met with Tess, Scruffs, Maeve, Neesi and Aisha at a local taco shop. Victoria was very official and regal, definitely mysterious with the mask she was wearing. She struck Tess as a crime boss, but fighting on the side of the victims. Her mission was to eliminate every single human trafficker she could, not caring about how it was done; she and Tess were a match made in heaven. Victoria was very intrigued when she learned about Tess’s blossoming computer skills. They all exchanged contact information, a token of good faith, though Victoria still wouldn’t disclose the location of her residence or her safehouses until they knew each other better. Tess was euphoric; she made her first real contact in the anti-crime world. The girls went with Victoria and promised to stay in touch. When the commotion was over, everyone headed home.

  Just inside the front door, Tess caught another glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her hair was down, messy, she had on a patterned shawl over a white tank top, a flowing blue skirt and beaded flip flops. Her eyes still had a sparkle, except it seemed brighter. She looked around the house, remembering her aunt and uncle, and finally felt like it was time to clean it up.

  –-

  Maeve had snagged the keys to the houses in Coronado Shoals as they left the area that night. She asked Tess if she wanted the house as a safehouse, but Tess passed them to Victoria. She decided that the house would be better in the hands of someone more experienced and not damn near completely consumed by a wild search for the underground. She volunteered any and all of the services she could provide, though, any day and any time. Seeing that the owner of the property was using an alias, living relatives didn’t exist, so it was very easy to transfer the deed to Victoria’s name. She had connections that allowed her to bypass red tape and prying eyes. She took it and called it “Pillow Fort” after taking votes on the name from the kids who lived there.

  –-

  In late May after several meetings with Victoria, Neesi and Aisha, Tess was organizing boxes in the basement, preparing the house for renovations when the phone rang. It was Neesi, and she called to tell Tess that she and Aisha had given birth, about 3 days apart. Aisha had a daughter and Neesi had a son. As Tess was congratulating them, she leaned against the wall that had had all the boxes up against it. The already pathetic looking drywall snapped and Tess stumbled into a dark tunnel going underneath 4th Avenue. Shocked and breathless, she told Neesi that she’d see them at the hospital the next day and clumsily hung up the phone. She stared in disbelief. Was this… it? Was this the San Diego Underground? After decades of searching, could it have been here the entire time, literally right under her nose?

  Tess got her answer when the ceiling flashed white and gold lights that led into the dark. She didn’t understand why but she had no reservations whatsoever. She immediately followed them–maybe the playful feeling she got from the lights and, really, all around her disarmed her. She was intrigued to see that the old fashioned bulbs were mysteriously clean and appeared to have no wires. As a matter of fact, when she focused on them in between flashes, she could have sworn… they weren’t attached to anything at all, as if they were just floating there. Not to mention, the space was immaculately clean, much cleaner than any place like this had any right to be after possibly centuries of solitude.

  She followed the lights for what felt like forever when she saw soft glowing ahead. Happy voices were talking and laughing and Tess felt her eyes widen. The lights above flickered playfully and went out. That was weird, Tess thought. It was like the lights were saying goodbye. She got closer and tried to hear what the voices were saying, but they had accents so strange that it took her a second to realize they were speaking English. She breathed as quietly as she could but everything went silent just before impossibly quick movement. The soft glowing light was replaced by a more intense red light that seemed to bring warmth. Tess heard urgent shushing.

  “Who’s there?” A strange voice whispered.

  –-

  Three years later on a particularly chilly January morning, a girl in a hoodie, baggy pants, sneakers with rainbow shoelaces and a purple backpack sheepishly walked into Tess’s office at El Cajon Valley High School. She had dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes. Her lip had been split, she had a bruise on her cheek, and her eyes were red from crying. Another one.

  “Hello, young lady!” Tess said knowingly, setting her coffee aside and trying to sound as friendly as possible. “What’s your name?”

  “Ami,” she said.

  [Inspirational Song | Alan Walker, "The Spectre"]