UnWhere

Aboard the S.S. Nile

To the rest of the world, the end of an Unwound wasn't even an end. Their deranged minds saw it to be another beginning of sorts as vultures picked over their pieces.
    In the eyes of the law, Roland Taggart was still living, in a divided state.

    Roland wakes up, dazed, confused, and a little angry when he hits his head on something metal. A clang shakes the room as his head falls back down onto a pillow that he knows isn't his. He knows right away despite his confusion that this room isn't his.
    He gives it a moment before trying to get up again, walking over to the mirror and bracing for the worst.
    Shock settles in as he sees that he is just the way he remembered. No lines or incisions trailing along his body, nor the faint green glow under his skin he would've expected.
    Had they pieced him back together again? Another Humphrey Dunfee in the works?
    Roland had died. He was painfully aware of this fact. Yet he blatantly ignores it, preferring to focus on the porthole he spies in his peripheral vision just to the left of him. As he takes a look out of that porthole he sees nothing but darkness and fog. It must still be night wherever he is.
Had the unwinding been stopped somehow? Was he lying in the same purgatory as before when they took his mind apart?
He had so many questions and no answers at all. He reasons that this place must be some kind of afterlife before returning to the same loop of crazy possibilities that he is somehow still alive.
Like a bull in a China shop and alive with rage, Roland redirects his attention back to the bunk bed that he had lumbered out of. Climbing onto the bottom bunk he peers down at the boy still sleeping in the top bunk. He looked to be about his age and Roland is sure he'd seen this kid go into the Chop Shop just a few hours before he had himself.
Roland shakes the boy awake mercilessly.
"Wha-" The frightened boy exclaims before being silenced by Roland's beefy hand over his mouth. "No screaming, I just want answers." Roland explains.
He draws his hand away and the boy quivers and shrewdly responds, "Are we dead?"
"What a load of help you are." Roland huffs before seeing that a slip of paper has been slid under the door. He goes over and grabs it, reading it aloud to himself and the frightened boy.

Dear Passager Taggart,
Your presence is requested:
Observation Deck
Binoculars #324
Today
NOW!

"Fantastic," Roland remarks, "I'm already late."
"Anything for me?" The mousy boy asks and Roland shakes his head no.
Roland tells him, "You should probably just get back to bed. I think I'll see you after whatever this is."
"Will you know how to get back? Maybe I should come with." The boy starts to crawl out of the bunk.
"In pajamas?" Roland rudely remarks.
"You're wearing them too." Mouse, as Roland has chosen to dub him, informs him.
Roland looks down. He hadn't noticed what he was wearing when he inspected himself in the mirror. But Mouse was right, he was wearing cotton pajamas just the same as his bunkmate.
"I think I should do this alone," Roland settles on this excuse before leaving the room without hesitation. Looking back, he sees that Mouse and him were staying in room #130045 and Roland prays he can remember this number.
It's a blur as Roland finds his way through the halls, moving up. The elevator that he takes brings him straight up to the Observation Deck and he finds an attendant waiting for him.
"Mister Taggart," The older gentleman says to him, "Right on schedule."
"I'm not late?" He asks, his nerves at an all time high. He's reminded of how cross his stepfather used to be whenever he said the word now and didn't get instant results from Roland.
"Hard to be late when you're here now." The man smiles and Roland wonders who gave him that smile. Did anyone here- wherever here was- have Unwind parts? The man hands Roland an odd hexagonal coin with a round hole in the center. It was unlike any other currency Roland had ever seen but it was as shiny as surgical instruments. It has the words ONE ETERNIM embossed on the front and OFFICIAL CURRENCY OF ELSEWHERE in bold on the back. He rubs his thumb over the writing and stares at the man.
"Number 324, correct?" The man asks and Roland nods.
    "How do you know all these things?" Roland asks and the man smiles.
    "I may be new here, but I'm great at my job." He smiles again and Roland furrows his brows.
    "New here? Shouldn't you be retiring at your age?" Roland asks, his tone scathing. But the man is unphased by Roland's attitude.
    He chuckles, "It's all explained in due time."
    Roland nods, taking it all in as the man leads him to the binoculars that are clearly labelled #324. "I think you're set from here, son." The man says and Roland growls. He takes a seat at the stool.
    "I'm not your son." Roland tells the man as he walks away, his pace upbeat and unbothered.
    Roland stares at the binoculars for just a moment before putting the coin, the Eternim, in the slot and placing his eyes against them and taking in what he was seeing. For a moment he wonders if its real as he sees Connor Lassiter and Rolands own arm rubbing Risa's cheek.
    Sweet, sweet Risa... She must know by now that he's been unwound. After all, that was his arm touching her face. He couldn't mistake that shark tattoo as anyones but his own.
    He turns the dial to focus or to zoom in, only to see that it changes who he's looking at altogether. Roland's chest tightens as his mother stares back at him. Well, not directly at him of course, but it felt like she could've been looking at him. A tear rolls down her cheek and Roland realizes she must've had another fight with his stepdad. The rage builds inside of him as he questions why she had chosen his stepdad over him. She sentenced him to death and acted as though she was doing Roland a favor.
    He pulls back from the binoculars and looks around, praying no one sees the tears flooding from his own eyes. When he goes to press against the binoculars again, they're closed. His portal to the rest of the world was gone.
    "Excuse me!" Roland loudly shouts, disrupting others around him. Some who sob, others who laugh. He assumes that the older people received funerals and that's what they were watching. The closest thing to a funeral that Roland would ever have was watching Connor Lassiter hold Risa with Roland's arm.
    His blood boils.
    "I may not have been the best guy," Roland says aloud to no one in particular, "But do I really deserve this?"
    "You think you've got it bad?" A kid from next to him asks, "My parents signed my Unwind order in front of me on my thirteenth birthday. I was unwound the next day."
    Rolands breath catches in his throat as he hurries away, unwilling to face the fact that maybe the way he went wasn't the worst. He thinks back to the nurse with the smiling eyes for just a moment and he wonders how she does that every day. How does she hold a kids hand as he's taken apart?
    It's wrong. It's so wrong and it makes Roland so mad as he rushes back to his room.
    When he returns, he sees that Mouse isn't there and he goes to town, thrashing about the room and throwing things. He leaves a dent in the wall, and then another. He doesn't know what these walls are made of, but they're flimsy beneath his rageful fists.
    There's a knock at the door. "Go away!" Roland screams at whoever it was as the door is opened without his consent. A boy, maybe eight years old, walks in.
    "You shouldn't be here." Roland remarks.
    "I lived a very full life, I assure you." The boy tells him, "I'm the captain of the S.S. Nile, and-"
    Roland cuts him off with haste, "The what?"
    "The ship you're damaging." The boy explains and Roland puts his fists behind his back.
    "You don't know nothing." Roland tells the boy who takes a seat on the bed.
    He smiles faintly, "I know more than you may be willing to believe. And I know that things work out in the end. You'll like it where you're going, there are beaches."
    Roland pauses, "Real ones?"
    "As real as you and I and the crazy world you came from." The boy says and Roland purses his lips.
    "Are you," Roland freezes for a moment, "The big man upstairs?"
    "No, not at all." The boy says, "I'm merely the captain of this ship. And I'm due for retirement soon. And I'd prefer if you could please stop breaking my vessel."
    Roland nods, "I'll try to contain myself."
    The boy smiles at Roland and hands him a handkerchief from his pocket with the initials J. R. sewn in. Roland traces these letters with his fingers and tries to keep calm as the boy starts to leave. Just before the boy makes his quiet and nonchalant exit, Roland stops him and asks, "My body is still mine, right? Even though it's in pieces?"
    "You may notice some changes happening to you, like a change in eye color or your hair being dyed. It's normal for our Unwinds. But you'll have the opportunity to change it all back when you get to Elsewhere, and yes, your body is still your own." The boy explains as the word Elsewhere rings over and over in Roland's ears. "There are therapy groups that meet for Unwinds, as well. I suggest attending a few."
    Roland doesn't say another word as he lets the boy leave. There's nothing he could say that would make any of this make sense. Or anything he could say that would make him feel any better personally. No one here was his pawn, except maybe Mouse. His army was gone, left to rot at the Graveyard. His heart pangs as he realizes the weight of his actions. He realizes that there's a very good chance that the kids who would be taking this journey after he would be on his conscience. Roland was about to be responsible for a lot of carnage back on Earth.
    Although it seemed, not Connor Lassiter. It seemed he had made it out unscathed. Roland had noticed the shiny ID that sat by his bedside while he stroked Risa's soft skin. And it was very clear that said ID was Connor's get out of jail free card. He was safe from unwinding forever. Yet no doubt he would still use his title of Akron AWOL to make himself the hero of this story.
    And Roland? He was destined to be the antagonist. The villain he'd always been.
   Elsewhere... Elsewhere... Elsewhere...
    Roland takes a pensieve seat on the bed, rolling everything around in his usually dormant mind. He prays things turn around soon for him. And he awaits where he would be ending up. After all, ships always dock somewhere, right?
    Elsewhere... Elsewhere... Elsewhere...