The Troll by Brian Darr Page A

closed their eyes. The Troll kept himself
awake until The Guide was finally out. He rolled over a few times to
test The Guide’s reaction to movement, but he didn’t
budge. It was safe to say that despite the setback The Guide caused,
it should be easy from here.
    The
Troll rolled out of the bed of hay and got to his feet. He looked
down at The Guide momentarily and nodded his head as if to say
goodbye. Moments later, he was out of the barn and walking toward a
line of trees in the distance. If The Guide were to exit the barn
within the next five minutes, he’d be discovered, but it seemed
as if he would have at least a six hour head start, which would be
enough distance between them. When The Guide woke up, he wouldn’t
have any idea which direction he headed, but he’d likely assume
he went west, toward Vegas. Instead, The Troll would actually be
making his way back to the city to transmit. He thought about what
The Guide said about his options and wondered if there really was a
possibility they’d kill him, even after he transmitted. It
seemed to him that The Moderator seemed sincere—that he would
be a man of his word.
    He
approached the line of trees, but stopped suddenly when he heard the
crackle of branches behind him. He realized someone was there. “I
need to do this alone,” The Troll said, assuming he was talking
to The Guide. Instead, a woman’s voice spoke.
    “ You’re
not going to run away from this,” she said. “I chose you
for a reason.”
    The
Troll spun on his heal and faced her, his jaw wide open. “Iris?”
he asked.
    “ Go
back to the barn,” Iris said. “We need to talk.”

Chapter 2

    When
the clock struck midnight, The Moderator cursed quietly to himself
and rolled out of bed. He paced in his office as the minutes passed
and grew angrier with each passing moment. He was positive The Troll
would opt out of the mission, and though he still could, it would
have been most effective if it had been done quickly. He hated that
there was someone out in the world that could potentially be creating
hope for all who hated Psi. He tried to guess how many people that
was. A few? A lot? Everyone?
    It
had been a risk taking Iris up on her challenge, but there were so
many fail safes in place that The Troll couldn’t possibly
succeed. It wasn’t that he worried about the shutdown of Psi so
much as he worried about how the people would feel about his journey.
His bounty hunters were out in the world where if enough of the
population was against Psi, his friends would be outnumbered.
    The
group of men The Moderator sent out were his closest friends and
confidants. It pained him to know they were exposed to the world and
he stayed in constant contact with each and watched the monitors
closely, guaranteeing there was movement from all ten of his friends.
They were the foundation of Circular Prime, all men who had lost
their jobs before they turned Psi on the people. Something about the
confrontation with Iris had gotten to him—as if she was
challenging him to make him seem like a coward—or make him lose
control. He did what would prove her wrong: Comply. Now, all he could
think about was all the ways the game could go wrong.
    He
hoped it would be over fast, and it should have been. The Troll was
somehow distracted, or hurt—something didn’t go as
planned. He had sized up the behavior of The Troll and determined
there was nothing more to him than just a troll, who sincerely feared
for his life and wanted to be a part of their group. Yet, he’d
never transmitted.
    The
Moderator needed to get some air. He needed to feel strong and in
control again. He spent the next hour in his office, which overlooked
the city below. He took the elevator to the first floor, exited the
building and wandered the streets, occasionally picking up trash and
tossing it into the nearest wastebasket. Their population was so
small that Chicago was a long way from looking perfect, but someday
it would. He was selective of