by Burgy, P. J.
She raised her top lip, her brows knit. “What do you mean by that?”
“What I mean, is that tonight you should get comfortable, and rest,” Father Isaac stated, and stepped close to her. When she instinctively moved back, he tilted his head and nodded. “I want you to wake up tomorrow morning renewed, with eyes unclouded. You've just arrived in Salvation, and we are yet all strangers to you. That, I would like to change. Over the next three days, starting tomorrow morning, all that we are shall be shown to you, and all that we offer shall be given. Every truth that we can share, you deserve to know. It is the only way to present your two paths. You must make a choice by the third day, Kara.”
“What choice?” she asked.
“You must choose to join us, or, I am sorry, you must choose to die.”
“Excuse me? What?” She stood, her jaw dropping. The Purgers standing around her reacted by tensing, readying themselves. She could see Simon's hand on the handle of her machete, his eyes wide and eager. Elijah was the only one who had not reached for a weapon, though a long sheath hung from his belt, his sword reminding her of Tengen for an instant. Elijah had his hands up, palms facing her. She glared at him and then went back to gawking at Father Isaac. “You'll kill me then?”
“Only if you refuse us on the third day,” Father Isaac replied. “Only if after we have treated you as one of our own, opened ourselves to you, and taught you our ways, if then you choose not to join us, we will have no choice ourselves.”
Her tone turned cautious. “You could let me go.”
“Letting you go would be a death sentence itself.” Father Isaac finally frowned, glancing to the ground and shaking his head. “Or, worse. You could become tainted, join the demons, fall into their ranks, and attack us as one of them. No. I cannot allow that. It is more merciful to die quickly, by our hand, than out there by their teeth. That will be your choice, Kara. You deserve sufficient time to make such a decision, it is only fair. I make this offer to all who find Salvation.”
“And Russell? My friend-”
“The abomination will be cleansed,” Father Isaac told her. “You should rest now.”
“You're all mad,” she said.
“Elijah, please escort this young woman to the third guest room. I believe it's been made up recently,” Father Isaac said.
“You won't escort me anywhere.” She scowled at Elijah when he went to her, offering a hand. She slapped his hand away and the man lowered his arms. Locking eyes with him, she saw that Elijah was trying to smile, offering his hand again. “I said no.”
“Please,” Elijah said. “The bed is better than the bench.”
Simon hissed. “The bench in the brig…”
Elijah grit his teeth. “Brother, please…”
“Maybe she needs a little motivation,” Simon muttered.
“Maybe she needs a little kindness, brother,” Elijah said, not bothering to turn back to look at the other man. He was still watching her. “I can't even imagine how confusing this all must be. Please. Kara. Let me walk you to your room.”
“Really?” Simon moved forward only to be stopped by Father Isaac's hand. “Father? Why are we wasting our time?”
She saw Simon's sneer, his eyes trained on the back of Elijah's head. That was all the motivation she needed to stand up and take Elijah's hand. As soon as she'd done it, she was pleased to see Simon's furious expression, his face twisted up in a knot. She spoke in a calm, calculated tone. “I will go with you, Elijah.”
Father Isaac smiled softly.
She allowed Elijah to walk her away from the table, around the right side of the large hall, and to the second entryway. There was another long hallway, closed doors on both sides. He took her to the third on the right, and she was introduced to her bed.
“Goodnight, Kara,” Elijah said to her.
She took a few steps into the tiny room, looking at the bed, the dresser, the door in the left corner that she felt had to be a closet or bathroom. There were no windows, only plaster walls with a thick layer of bubbled white paint. When she heard a clicking sound, she spun on her heel to see that the door was closed. Trying the door handle, she found it locked and cursed under her breath.
Head down, she pressed her forehead to the cool, wooden door and closed her eyes.
Eventually, she crawled into the bed.
Kara imagined that she could hear the sound of screaming, and she clenched the blankets. Staring into the darkness, she focused on the thin halo of light under the door. While she could hear steps in the hallway, they were becoming more distant to her ears as the fatigue from the past few days caught up with her. She didn’t want to fall asleep. It seemed like such a terrible idea. In this place, with these strange people, with Russell locked up and being tortured somewhere in the facility. This was not a place where she could rest, let alone close her eyes.
The last few hours had changed her, changed everything she knew or thought she knew, and her imagination continued to bring her back to Russell’s face with his black mouth and his pale skin. He’d been one of those things, but a talking one. Self-aware, not like the Wailer calling for help in the street. That thing had terrified her more than the slobbering hordes, and then Russell, he had somehow scared her worse. What he was, he wasn't supposed to be. None of them were. The Wailers were supposed to be mindless, and she couldn’t help but feel sick at the thought of being Infected and fully conscious of it.
She thought about his face, having only gotten a glimpse of him before they’d bagged him. Most of all, she wondered why he’d helped her, why he hadn’t killed her while she slept and eaten her instead. And then, she wondered what they were doing to him. He had saved her, twice now, and in return she’d gotten him caught, given him a death sentence.
She pulled her blankets closer and focused again on the light under the door. It ebbed and flowed like the shore of Blue Lagoon. Soon, she could even hear the sound of the water rushing against the smooth stones and gritty sand, clapping against the barrels on the bridge. She saw the strands of red lights come on and felt herself sinking into her bed. Sleep took her without a fight.
She was jostled awake by a knock on her door and, unsure of how long she’d been asleep, she jolted upward. The lights in her room were lit, and Kara wondered when they’d switched on. Swinging her feet to the floor, she felt stiff, achy. Part of her did regret not accepting different clothing. She could smell food, and her stomach cramped.
Another knock at the door and she heard a voice, male, on the other side. “Kara, good morning. It’s Elijah. Are you awake?”
“What do you want?” she replied.
“I’ve unlocked your door. Breakfast is being served,” he said.
“I don’t want anything.”
“You would feel better if you ate,” he said. “I was asked to escort you to the hall. I will not force my way in, or make you go, but you do need to eat. You need your energy.”
“I told you, I don’t want anything!” she yelled. “Just let me leave.”
“I’m sorry," he said. “We cannot let you leave, Kara.”
“Then leave me alone!”
She heard no more from him and hugged her knees to her chest. The room had little to offer in terms of escape routes, though she could have made a lovely noose out of the bedsheets. She pushed that last thought from her mind and considered her options.
After a few minutes she stood up and took a better look at the bathroom. There was a shower, a sink, and a toilet. Kara was shocked to see that the water worked, though the pressure was low. How had they set up in this place?
She saw the towels on the shelf to her right. It seemed like a bad idea, but she also knew that it would be a long time before she saw the inside of a shower again. They’d provided her with a lumpy bar of soap and a bottle of something tan and thick. She smelled both, the scent of pine and lemon grass filling her senses. She made her decision. She spent the next ten minutes cleaning herself off, enjoying the warm water.
; She was drying herself off, wishing she had a brush for her hair, when another knock came at the door. Kara, feeling less aggressive than she had earlier, wrapped herself in a towel and walked across the cold tile floor.
“Yeah?” she replied.
“It’s Elijah again.”
She took in a slow breath. “What do you want, Elijah?”
“I brought you some breakfast. I didn’t know what you liked, so, I grabbed a bit of everything. I’m sorry if you don’t like some of it. I guessed.” His tone wavered. “Ah, I also got you some clothes. I know you said no last night, but, I heard the water, and thought you’d like clean things to change into. We can wash your clothes for you, and return them.”
“Like you’ll return my bag and my knife?” She leaned her shoulder against the door, arms crossing.
“We will," he said.
She sighed and then opened the door to him, looking out at the tall, young man with the light hair and the warm, albeit confounded eyes. He wore a mended red flannel shirt, tan khakis and black boots. He had his shirt tucked in, like a gentleman, the sleeves rolled up along his thick biceps.
At seeing her wearing only a towel, he averted his gaze and looked down at what he was offering her. He’d stacked a plate loaded with various food items on top of folded clothing. The fabric was blue and tan, denim and cotton. Despite herself, she hoped they had included socks. She opened the door further so she could take his offerings.
“Thank you, Elijah.” She searched his face.
“Oh, you’re welcome. I didn’t get you a drink, but I can. I didn’t want to risk dropping the plate. Unless you wanted to change, and bring your plate to the hall? I haven’t eaten yet, so perhaps we can eat together.” He smiled, his eyes focused on the floor.
“Look, Elijah, I’m not trying to be disrespectful, but I can’t stay here,” she said. She watched as he glanced over at her, and saw that he was frowning. “I have friends that need me out there, in the city. And, another friend, Russell, who you have locked up somewhere in here.”
“Why don’t we eat breakfast together and talk?”
She glanced back into the room. “Ah...”
“I want you to feel welcome here. Please.”
A few seconds passed, her eyes locked onto him. She studied his face, the sincerity written across his features as plain as day. Ideas flickered through her mind; perhaps this one could be reasoned with. As if he sensed her change of heart, he smiled awkwardly, a hopeful light entering his expression.
“All right. I’ll be right back out, okay?” Kara nodded, taking her plate and folded clothing back into the room. She heard the door close behind her and peered back, not surprised that Elijah had not wanted to watch her change. Still, she smirked ever so slightly before taking a look at what he had given her. She was not pleased, but it would have to do.
Kara’s new shirt was a tan, cotton tee with quarter length sleeves, patched once around the stomach. They had given her a pair of jeans that fit snug around her hips but were loose around her ankles, and had been patched along the inner thighs. The white socks were ankle length and frayed. She put her hair up in a ponytail, the bits in the front hanging near her eyes. It couldn’t be helped, as usual, and Kara considered putting her bandanna back on. She held the angel pin in her hand before sliding it into her pocket, the bit of weight it offered a comfort.
Deciding to leave all of her dirty clothes behind, folded on the bed, she picked up her breakfast and went to the door. She brought her plate out, walking in her socks out into the hall, and Elijah shut the door for her.
“Oh, did you need new shoes?” he asked.
“Do you have shoes?”
“We can stop and get you a pair.”
They made their way down the corridor, passing other closed doors, until they reached the dining hall. The huge room was empty save for a few others who appeared engaged in board games or were nose deep in a book. They reminded her of people from back home, but it wasn’t lost on her that one of those men playing checkers at the long table near the windows had been in the hunting party the previous night. She noted the few cautious glares from the denizens of Salvation and she followed Elijah to the first table to the front, near the buffet style window.
“Have a seat, okay? Did you want a water? We have juice. Apple. I would ask if you wanted wine, or beer, but it’s a bit early for that, I think.” Elijah laughed, and it was a warm and sincere sound as he turned from her where she sat across from the food buffet. He went over, started serving himself, and then strode back, directly across from her at the table, to set his plate down. “Unless you do?”
“Water will be fine, Elijah,” Kara said.
“You can call me Eli, I prefer it,” he told her, smiling. He fetched them both plastic cups of water and then sat in front of her, using a spoon to shovel around some sliced potatoes. He looked at Kara, looked to her plate, and then got up again to get her a spoon. “Oh! Sorry. We don’t make our guests eat with their hands, I promise.”
“Thank you.” She fought back a smirk and then began to poke at her plate of potatoes and meat. “What is this?”
“Potatoes. Did you want salt?” Elijah asked, and when she nodded, he got up and fetched her a little bottle from the buffet. He sat down again and pointed at the items on her plate. “Got bread, see? Eggs. Scrambled. Butter. It’s goat. We have a few. That’s ah, that’s… that’s pigeon. They’re good, actually. Corn mash. Squash pudding. That’s fried apples.”
“How do you have all this? In the city?” Kara asked him. Her food smelled so good that she began to eat, unable to keep herself from stuffing her face. It was delicious.
“Ah, well, hard work. It’s the season of plenty, lucky for you. We have to dry a lot of it for winter, when times get harder. We have a farm, indoor. Glass ceilings and all. A greenhouse. That’s upstairs,” Elijah told her, and he sipped his water before continuing. “We’ve got animals. Geese and chickens. Try not to eat those as often, so, that’s why we’ve got pigeon on the menu today. Plenty of those around here. Plenty of crows too, but no one wants to eat crow, do they?”
She nodded at him, chewing her bread.
Elijah waited, smiling at her, as though he had made a joke. When she did not react, he cleared his throat and chuckled. She ate another spoonful of potatoes after mixing it with some of the scrambled eggs, shoving her cheeks full a second after.
“Das increble.” she said, still chewing.
“Ah, yes, well.” He began to eat, his table manners far more gentile than hers. She watched him as he spread the butter over his bread, placed some egg on top and took a bite. He noticed that she was studying him and his chewing slowed. He sipped his water, swallowed his food. “Is the food all right?”
“Mm, yeah,” she replied, having finished a bite. “Look, Eli, I’m grateful and all, but, I told you, I can't stay. Can you help me?”
“I know that it seems unfair.” He pushed his eggs around on his plate. His eyes met hers. “Out there is certain death, Kara. In here, you’re safe. If your friends are out there, they are dead. I know you don’t want to hear that, but I think you know that I’m right. I can see it in your eyes. You know they’re dead. If you go out there, you’ll die too.”
She shook her head. “The thing is, I don't think that they are. I don't know how, or why, but someone took them and hid them out here. I haven't seen any corpses, Eli. I followed the trail into the city, and I never saw a body. Not even one. They could still be alive out there, and I mean to find them.”
“You and I both know that the demons don't leave bodies.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, but they sure do leave a mess behind and I wouldn't have missed that.”
He appeared to be picking his brain for the right words. “Perhaps not, but at this point you should at least consider the possibility that the only people you will find are... well, us. I'm sorry. I've lost people too. It is exceedingly difficult to process, but-”
“Is he dead?�
� she interrupted him.
“Him? Oh. No. The cleansing ritual has only started.”
“But you will kill him.”
“His soul has to be given peace.”
“He’s a person, you know,” she said. “Like you and me. A person. But he’s sick, Eli. I never thought someone like him could exist. Somehow, he kept his mind. If you kill him, it’s murder, Eli. It’s murder.”
“The abominations aren’t like us, Kara.” He splayed his hand on the table, fingers curling into a fist. “I can’t explain why he was protecting you. I don’t understand. For whatever reason, The Ghost wanted to keep you alive. The others aren’t like that.”
“The Ghost?”
He lowered his brow. “That is what we call him. He has hunted near our home many times, almost as if taunting us. He appears and disappears like a spirit.”
“And you said there are others?” She continued to eat, though her appetite was failing now. She stirred her potatoes in with her meat, eyes following her spoon.
“My father told you there were other abominations out there, and he didn’t lie.” He leaned forward toward her across the table. “The Ghost evaded us, escaped from our traps, killed one or two of my people, Kara. But she-”
“She?” Kara looked up from her food to stare at him.
“I shouldn’t say too much.” He sighed and leaned back.
“There are others like Russell out there, in the city? Smart, talking Infected? Sick people, like he is. And you hunt them. You kill them,” she said. “You hang their bodies out in the sun.”
“Ah, you saw that.”
“It was horrible. Made me sick. You burned them to death, didn’t you?”
“The crosses were a warning.” He placed his spoon down. “You’re from a fort, aren’t you? One of the fort towns out in the valleys, or near the fields of green? A wall town?”
“Yeah.” She shrugged. “I guess. Why? What of it?”
“If your lights go out, what is the worst that can happen?” he asked.
