Through a Dark Tunnel

Filename: ds03.html
© 1998 Darren Stewart

Genre: Fiction(Partially Science Fiction)
Description: A teenager dreams he is ten years in the future.



Through a Shadow Tunnel

He awoke to a familiar song. The melody sang itself in his mind without need of the radio, resounding to its eventual conclusion.
"Good morning Calgary. It's six a.m. and it's cold out there. Whew. Weather says minus twenty and falling. Keep those hats on guys. For those of you just joining us I'm Marvin Thompson and you're listening to CLOK Calgary and those good old Alley Apes."
He sat up. Old? Since when were they old? His heart was beating quickly. And who was Marvin Thompson? And CLOK? His normal radio station was CDIJ, both he and his friend Chris listened to it...
"This is DJ 97, bringing you another hit from the Alley Apes. This song, the fifth by the young stars, is probably the one going to bring them to fame..."
His mind jerked him back through mists of confusion to where he was before, looking sharply around the room. Dresser, chest of drawers, desk... yep, they were all in a suitable state of disorder. He frowned and shrugged it off, reaching over to gently switch off the radio. No way was he going to let being tuned into a dumb radio station ruin his day so early.
He slipped on his dressing gown, grabbed some clothes and took a quick shower. He stepped in too soon, feeling a burr of coldness slip down his spine. The water soon heated up and he washed himself. While drip-drying off, he brushed his teeth, shaved and then dressed.
The rest of his family slept on as he toasted two slices of white bread in the silver toaster. His brown-haired reflection stared up at him through gray eyes and didn't like what it saw. He looked like he'd aged five years in one night, and a bad five years at that. He smiled bitterly and grabbed the toast as it popped. Without bothering to butter it, he grabbed his bag and left the house, closing the door softly behind him. A heavy fog obscured his view, blanketing the city. He frowned at this unusual occurrence.
His Sunbird was sitting in the driveway, looking no worse for wear in the fog. He quickly unlocked it and sat down heavily in the driver's seat. The car started without any trouble: a bright spark in an otherwise strange day. He pushed the heating to max. and put the car into reverse, backed out onto the road and sped around three corners to 124 Somerglen Crescent. He pulled up to a curb and looked with astonishment at the four-by-four parked in the driveway. When had that happened. You'd think Marla would have told him if her parents were going to by a new car. Or maybe it was her brother's, same goes, though.
He opened his door and strolled up to the front door of the house, pushing lightly on the doorbell, he stood back slightly to wait. Within seconds Marla's dad opened the door.
Marla's father stared at him with only thinly masked surprise. "Matt. What are you doing here?"
Consternation ripped through him. He'd picked up Marla for the past year, since getting his license, surely he couldn't have forgotten...
"I'm here to pick up Marla, Mr. Anderson." He could feel a goofy grin on his face, but there wasn't much he could do about it.
Mr. Anderson smiled. "Ah, so you're driving on your own finally, are you, Matt?"
"Yes sir." The grin widened.
"Just watch the road, OK?"
"Of course, Mr. Anderson."
"Wait a second while I go get Marla."
Matt stood nervously on the porch as Mr. Anderson vanished into the fog...?
Matt shook his head, looking with surprise at the man before him. "I'm here to pick up Marla."
Mr. Anderson frowned. "You sure you want to do that, son?"
"Uh. Why not, sir?"
Mr. Anderson shrugged noncommittally. "Just a second." He began to turn. "I see you got a new car," he commented as he entered the house.
Matt whirled round to stare at his car through the mist. It was a white Sunbird. Beyond that the similarity ended. His car had a long scratch down this side, where some punk had run his key a couple months ago. What the hell was going on here?
"Matthew Potter, what the hell do you want?" Marla's voice asked, almost echoing his unspoken question.
Matt turned back with even more confusion. "To drive you to school." She looked astounding, a pillar of marble standing amidst sandstone rubble. And she was mad at him.
"Drive me to school? Will you get over it already!" She was shouting at him. Why was she shouting at him? His heart was beating rapidly again. Something extremely strange was going on.
"All right Matt," she said in a gentler tone, seeming to calm down. "I have avoided you for two years straight, ever since you ditched me for that slut, but if this is what you want, then I'll ride with you to school."
They were playing a trick on him, he decided. Yes, that was it. They'd gotten everyone into it, and sooner or later someone would crack and then they'd all start laughing at him.
Marla disappeared into her house, emerging seconds later carrying a sports bag. "Come on then," she ordered authoritatively. She always did boss him around.
Still convinced it was a trick and waiting for any moment to pounce on it and say so, Matt walked quickly to his car to open a door for her.
"I see you got a new car."
Matt just nodded, not wishing to say anything to give away that he knew about the joke. He walked around to the driver's door, shaking his head at the ingenuity. He sat down and smiled at her. "All set?"
"Just go."
He shrugged and put the car into gear, speeding off. He rounded onto 162nd avenue and screeched the car to a halt. "Holy crap!"
"What is it now," Marla asked with an exasperated tone.
Matt gurgled.
"Huh?"
He cleared his throat. "Th-th..."
"What is it?"
"There's an C-Train there."
"You know," Chris started through a cheeseburger. "The property value in this place would sky-rocket if they actually built a C-Train here instead of just talking about it."
Matt grinned as he accelerated up the hill. "Yeah, but you can do all the work."
"Oh, right. They'd have to pay me a hell of a lot of money to get me building C-Train tracks."
Matt shook his head as he flicked on his left indicator, then shook his head again, bringing himself back to the foggy winter day.
"You're point being?" Marla asked with exasperation. A car horn sounded, followed quickly by another and a C-Train shot by, faster than any Matt had ever seen.
He shook his head, looking at the volume of traffic around. He quickly accelerated down the hill toward MacLeod Trail. Stopping at a red light he stared in amazement at a huge mall across MacLeod and houses spreading out across the prairie until they were out of sight.
"Matt!" Marla shouted, but he barely heard her.
His mind whirled in confusion and he just sat there almost numb with it.
"Matt!" she shouted again and he turned to her with a ghost face. "Get a move on it. The light's green."
He jerked his head forward and put his foot down on the accelerator, pulling the wheel around as they turned into a sixth lane. He counted them again. Six on one side, six on the other. He flicked on the left indicator and sped quickly into a spot in the fifth, waving briefly at the driver behind him. "When did this happen?" he asked.
Marla looked at him with an annoyed expression. "What?"
"MacLeod had three lanes on each side last I checked."
"Where have you been, Mars? They did that four years ago."
Matt stared at her, keeping only a half-hearted eye upon the road.
"Take the third level," she told him, gesturing towards the left.
Matt jerked his head to look at the signs:
MacLeod Trail becomes a Multilevel Highway in 3km
Please get in lane:
Level 3 Level 2 Level 1
He hit his indicator, now completely confused but willing to follow instructions. He darted into a small space, causing the driver behind to hit his horn and give him the finger, but Matt just waved cheerfully back. He was just in the second lane when a car in front in the third lane cut in front of his hood into a spot in the first. He pressed his hand on the horn for a few seconds, then let it go, too surprised at what was coming up to bother about it.
Ahead the various lanes split into ramps, one slightly steeper than the other, until the ramp which Matt was heading for went slightly down. The drove down and plunged into near darkness. Matt flicked on his headlights to aid lights along the side of the tunnel. A sign just inside the entryway read: "All exits are on level 1." Matt shook his head abruptly and continued, watching carefully for warning signs.
He suddenly realized what it felt like. He'd driven to Edmonton once, and it had felt just like this: his eyes always peeled for any signs-anything helpful-while his nerves skyrocketed. It wasn't like driving in Calgary. The roads all had the same names, but it was more like driving somewhere new...
"Now what the hell are you doing!?" exclaimed Marla.
Matt spun around to look at her. "Huh?"
"You just passed the damn road, idiot."
"What?" He'd been watching the signs, he knew he had. He hadn't seen an exit for Seventeenth Avenue yet.
"Glenmore, you fool." She was gesticulating wildly, causing strange feelings in Matt.
"Glenmore? Seventeenth...?"
"Oh fine. Take us the long hard way. Seventeenth then."
It finally clicked. If it was so much later, it was extremely unlikely that they would still be going to High School. She was expecting him to take her to the University. He shuddered. He'd never driven to the University. Traffic was hell.
"What is wrong with that bus driver?" Chris asked, exasperated. "The lights been green for an entire minute and my head's starting to spin from all the honking."
Matt craned his neck to look out the back window. "You're right. At least now they're beginning to pass us." He looked forwards towards the driver. "He's just sitting there. What is he, blind?"
"I sure hope not, otherwise I have serious doubts about how he got us this far."
Matt nodded.
"Hey asshole!" cried a voice from outside. "Are you color blind or somethin'?"
Matt sighed and stood up. "OK. Since no-one seems to delighted to go and see what's up with the driver, I will."
"Uh, Matt? We're the only ones on here," Marla pointed out.
He shrugged. "Small point." He walked forwards, grabbing onto the bar next to the driver. "Hey mister," he said. No reply. He shook the man's shoulder and the driver slumped over.
"Uh, guys. I think we have a problem."
No-one had helped. They were all too busy getting from one place to another. Matt would always remember that. No-one stopped to see if there was anything wrong. Of course, how were they to know the guy had suffered a stroke.
Matt rolled over and returned to where he was driving up a ramp to level 1 in order to exit onto Seventeenth. Once up he turned levelly onto another multi-storey road and they drove down the top level. Time seemed to be passing faster than Matt thought possible, and in what seemed only seconds they turned onto the upper level of Crowchild Trail.
"Are you paying attention?" Marla asked suddenly.
Matt turned to her. "Sure. These are a cinch, really."
"I mean to that sign!" she cried.
"What sign!" he shouted. Then they were spinning. Spinning in midair, for way too long.
Impact came with a splash and the car became submerged in water. Matt's mind suddenly realized that he was in the Bow River, it's banks surprisingly high and fast moving for winter... Then darkness.
Not from unconsciousness he realized suddenly. They were in a tunnel. The Bow must have had a tunnel built over it. They were still moving though, and soon they would probably be out.
A jarring screech of metal against concrete shattered that illusion as they stopped. "Marla?" Matt ventured. "Are you okay?"
"I think so," came a weak voice. "You?"
"Yeah. What sign?"
"The one that said the level ended."
"I didn't even see it. I'm having a real bad day."
"You're having a real bad day? I'm the one who gets suddenly greeted by the boyfriend she hasn't seen in two years."
Matt shook his head in the darkness. "I really don't know what happened."
"Oh, it's really simple," she said sarcastically. "Boy meets slut, boy dumps girl, girl crashes boy's car, boy and girl never see each other again while boy and slut have orgies every night."
"I would never do that,"
"No? Well you did."
"I swear Marla, when I went to bed last night we were together and it was 1998. I wake up, my favorite band is called old, I'm listening to a strange radio station and you're angry with me for something I don't remember doing and can't see myself ever doing."
"If this is just to make amends, forget it. I don't go for wacky stories."
"I swear it, Marla. That's what happened. Yes, I want to make amends, but only because I don't remember ever doing what you say I did... Hold on. You wrecked my car?"
He listened only to rushing water for a second. "Sort of. It wasn't deliberate."
"I wondered why everyone kept commenting on the fact I had a new car. I didn't even notice." Water again as they contemplated their conversation. "Perhaps I should turn on a light?"
"No. Don't waste the car battery. We might need light urgently later."
"I can't see that."
"Matt. It's minus twenty degrees out there. It's going to get cold in here at some point and a light is a source of heat."
Eventually that sank in. "We're going to die here."
"No we're not."
"Yes we are. Who knows we're here? No-one. No-one could possibly know. And this is university we're talking about. Half the people don't show up for classes anyway. They'll never track us down."
"Yes they will."
"How?"
"Cameras see us turn onto Crowchild, they never see us turn off. They're going to come to some conclusion. We can hope they come to the right one."
"And freeze to death in the meantime."
"We won't freeze. It's probably better if we don't talk now, conserve energy."
"You just don't want to talk to me."
"Partly. What I said was true though."
Matt sighed and dug his hands into his coat pocket and listened to the rushing river. "Uh Marla," he said after a few minutes.
"What."
"I have to go to the bathroom."
"And what do you expect me to do? Hold it."
"Yeah. Right. Easy to say, not so easy to do, especially with all this water."
"If you don't shut-up, I'll have to go, and then we'll be in real trouble."
"And me having to go is not?"
"Not if you can find a bottle or something."
"In my car?"
She fell silent. "Then plug your ears and go to sleep. Or alternatively you could wet yourself, though I advise against that. It'd smell."
"Really. I would never have guessed that." He pulled his hands out of his pockets and placed them over his ears. Time seemed so disjointed to him, so he didn't know how long he stayed like that before Marla grabbed his arm and pulled his hand away from his ear.
"Matt."
"What?"
"Are you serious about being sorry?"
"Of course. I can't believe I'd do something like that to you."
"Then I accept your apology. But I'm not going out with you."
"Sure, fine. Whatever."
"You don't care?"
He lifted his arm and turned on the light, squinting against the brightness as he turned to Marla. "Look. We're in a bit of a predicament. Of course I care, it's just that right now thinking up a way to get out of here is more important to me."
She stared into his eyes until he looked away.
"All right," he conceded. "I'm sorry. How long have we been here?"
Marla looked at the clock. "Just over four hours."
He quickly turned off the light to cover his surprise. Four hours in what seemed like a few minutes. Something strange was still going on. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat, pondering the situation.
A dim light suddenly flashed on the car. "Hello?" called a voice. "Mr. Potter? Ms. Anderson? Are you there?"
"Yes!" cried Marla. "We're right here!"
"Thank God," Matt whispered to himself. "Over here!" he shouted. Within seconds they heard the roar of a boat motor and bright lights shone upon them. A man's face pressed up against Matt's window and Matt rolled it down.
"Are you all right?" asked the man.
"Yes."
"Thank God. You've had the entire city worried all day."
"The entire city?"
The man nodded. "There are thousands of search teams combing the area looking for you. We'd almost given up down here, when we heard you."
"And after seven hours of being caught underneath the downtown city, rescue workers finally found the missing couple at four-o-clock this afternoon. It's thanks only to the massive search effort that took place, calling upon the hearts of many Calgarians that this couple is home safely today. Yet another demonstration of what our city can do..."

He awoke to a familiar song. The melody sang itself in his mind without the need of the radio, resounding to its eventual conclusion.
"Good morning Calgary. It's six a.m. and it's hot out there. Whew. Weather says twenty degrees already and a projected high of over thirty. We love mid-August weather. Your listening to CDIJ Calgary and moving on to our next song, from the Alley Apes, their seventh hit, 'Going Forwards Baby'..."
He looked around. Already the memory was fading; it was a dream.
Or was it a warning?