by Kristen Day
"We want you to join us," Michael said, "before you even knew about us you were fighting for your name and that's what we need. The brains of our operation have an idea, and it's going to take a lot of people with all their memories to pull it off. Are you in?"
It wasn't hard for me to decide to join up with Michael and Leigh. So far they were the only two people I really liked.
"Good. Just make sure to call us by the name's Kinga gave us when she's around. Even Avery. If we're lucky, we'll have a working plan soon. In the mean time, learn the ropes here. Do just as Kinga says, and make as many friends as you can. When new people arrive let me know. The best time to snag new people is right when they get here."
I nodded my agreement and understanding before I realized Michael couldn't see me, "Okay. Can I ask you a question?"
"I guess you could try. No promises on a great answer though."
I smiled nervously, "Why did my hand scare you so much yesterday?"
I felt Michael tense and subconsciously touch my hand, "I've only seen that mark once before. It's not a good thing."
"But what is it?"
I was leaning forward now; I could almost feel the heat coming off Michael because I was so close.
"A demon has claimed you. That mark is the equivalent of an engagement ring on earth. Except when a demon claims you it's not love, or necessity. It's desire, and the need for strength. Most demons claim their victims and take them immediately, I only know of one who dangles his like bait in front of him."
Michael's words were chilling. I felt light-headed. My mind flashed back to the hall where Daman had poisoned me then carved the circle into my palm. I reflexively closed my fist as I remembered the pain.
"Who?" I asked.
"The name he goes by when looking for claims is Daman, but most people here know him as Alecsander."
My worst fears were confirmed and I felt my throat catch as though I was going to start vomiting poison again.
"Can Daman find me again?" I didn't mean to sound so terrified, but sitting in the dark, learning the person I had loved, and despite everything, still loved, was a murderer, and a vulgar creature who's name alone seemed to drip with evil.
"Yes. That mark is like a tracer, you'll lead him straight here, it's exactly the break we've been waiting for."
"You want the bad guy to come here? And you're glad I just stumbled into this place so you can use me as bait?" I couldn't explain why, but Michael had upset me, I already had my suspicions about the circle, but I didn't think I would be dangled like a steak in front of a hungry dog.
"No, we're not glad you're bait--" Michael said, "you're not bait, you're just--"
"The reason he's going to come here which is exactly what you want."
Michael acted like he was going to say something, then seemed to choke on his words and sighed, "Fine, yes, you are sort of bait, but we won't let anything happen to you."
"Well. I'm not sure if I trust you all. You're going behind your leaders back, how trustworthy can you be if you're so willing to dissent?" I didn't know why I was arguing, I actually wanted to join the resistance badly, I didn't like Kinga and I didn't think the way she was running things was right, but Michael's side didn't seem so attractive right then either.
"We didn't dissent. We are still behind Kinga in all the choices we feel are right, but there are some things that could be done differently that would help us succeed faster. What we're doing is no different than people from another party opposing the current president. We aren't going to do anything about it, but we can have our own options just in case." Michael was trying valiantly to dig himself out of a deep hole and was actually doing pretty well, I didn't want to admit it, but his point was valid.
"I'll have to think about it," I replied. My words felt like stones rolling out of my mouth, they were so heavy and cold I thought they'd crush Michael, but instead of suffocating under the pressure, he breathed a sigh of relief.
"Good, I hope you come around and see our side."
"That could be difficult seeing as I'd have to sacrifice myself. I'm not sure I want to die twice."
"Everyone dies sometime, Alice. And if you make it here, you die twice. There's no way to escape it. You can live here until you're old and gray, for as long as you want even. But eventually, you have to move on, whether you think so now or not. No one can live with themselves for eternity when they are still so human."
"Fine, I'd rather not die again so soon. Does that sound better?" I was being incredibly mean, I knew it, and I didn't care.
"Whatever you choose, Alice. My happiness doesn't matter in your decisions," Michael said in an infuriatingly calm, and almost condescending voice.
I was seriously tempted to stick out my tongue, I could've gotten away with it since it was so dark, but I felt like Michael could sense each move I made.
"I think it's time we leave, Leigh," Michael said. He got up off my bed, his fingers brushed mine as he stood, "sorry," he mumbled. Seconds later the two were at the door.
"Just think about it," Michael said. He opened the door and a chink of light spilled across my bed, illuminating my marked hand. For an instant the circle seemed to flare bright orange, but it was gone before I could decide if it had been real.
"I will," I promised. I wouldn't have sounded convincing to a four-year-old, but Michael didn't press. He and Leigh left, close the door behind them and sending me into the lonesome dark once again.
"Sun," I muttered half-heartedly. A little light flared, but quickly faded.
"Sun!" This time it was too bright.
Frustrated, I yelled, "Night!"
Nothing, I shielded my eyes with my hands, "Dark! Black! No light! Come on!"
"Stars."
It was Kinga, my room went dark again and I lowered my hands, "Sun," Kinga said in an even tone. The light flared and settled just like it had when Michael first showed me, except it was dimmer, more like a summer sunset.
"Why are you so agitated, Ira?" Kinga asked.
"I--I'm hungry."
It wasn't a lie, I had slept for two days and my stomach felt as shriveled as a raisin.
"Beau and Aida also seemed agitated, what did you say to them?"
Kinga sounded protective, like she would kill me if I said one negative word about them.
"I just told them I didn't feel like talking about my death, and they pressed so we got--agitated."
It was a weak excuse, but I hoped if Kinga decided to check with Michael or Leigh that they would be smart enough to attest its truthfulness.
"Perhaps you should go get something to eat then. And maybe next time you shouldn't upset the man who is destined to be my husband and future king of this place if we succeed against Alecsander."
That was shocking, it hadn’t seemed like Michael was Kinga’s biggest fan, I couldn’t imagine him ageing to marry her, "I thought you said there were no relationships here."
"Not now, but if we are successful, there will be opportunity for family and relationships once again. As I said, at this time those things are much too dangerous."
I decided not to press Kinga any farther on that subject, so I asked just one last question as Kinga was turning to leave, "What is this place called?"
"It's been called many things, but most of us refer to it by the same name that it is called on Earth. Beyond. Now if you don't mind, there are more important things than history lessons to attend to. Please, go get yourself some food and try not to harass anyone else while you do."
Kinga left without waiting for a response. This time, I didn't restrain myself from sticking out my tongue. Surprisingly, it made me feel much better.
Chapter Twenty-one
A few minutes later I found myself in the kitchen again. Seeing everyone made me very aware of how awful I must look. I subconsciously attempted to pull knots out of my hair, while straightening my clothes while at the same time trying to keep my arms from rising too high and releasing the stink of three days of d
oing almost nothing but sleeping. I also started longing for a toothbrush.
I needed to distract myself from my awful hygiene situation so I began scanning the room again. I realized that the people in line weren't all quiet. The ones that were seemed to be like me. They almost looked to be in shock, as though they were newly dead, without a friend, and still getting used to a new name and identity.
I smiled encouragingly at a girl around my age who was walking past with a tray of food in her hand. Her eyes widened, her step quickened and she gave me a wide berth. I watched as she settled herself between two people, as safe as she could be from the freaky new girl with a dirty smile.
I ran my tongue over my teeth, they really did feel nasty. I grew more and more anxious to get my food and race back to my room to eat where my smell wouldn't overpower anyone's appetite.
I avoided meeting anyone's eyes, my feet moved forward automatically. A woman behind a table handed me a tray loaded with a small bowl of macaroni and cheese, a glass of apple juice, and vanilla pudding. I almost smiled remembering a lunch at school that had been near the same. I quickly stopped thinking about that though. It hurt too much to dig up old memories of home.
I kept my head down and rushed out of the kitchen and back to my room. Once the door was safely closed and locked behind me I began to inhale the food. It wasn't nearly enough to satisfy my extreme hunger, but it would have to do until I could find a place to bathe.
I didn't know what time it was, I guessed the meal I'd just eaten had been lunch, so it had to be around noon, but there was no way to tell anymore since the light in my room had been changed so many times.
Sighing, I dropped the tray on the floor and flung myself back onto my pillow.
"I need a shower!" I shouted to no one. I didn't expect anything to happen, I almost felt as trapped as I had in the hallway, but I hadn't needed to shower there, and when I asked for someone to help me they only came when it was convenient. This time, almost as soon as the words had left my mouth there was a knock at my door.
"Who is it?" I asked.
No answer, "Who is it?" I tried again. Still nothing.
I growled in frustration and got up to answer the door, I prayed it wasn't Michael come to see if I had made up my mind. For one thing, I hadn't, for another, I looked like I'd been in a tornado and probably smelled worse than a port-a-potty.
"What do you wa--" I broke off, I wasn't looking at the hall that led to the kitchen anymore; instead I had opened to the door to a small, neat bathroom. There were towels rolled up on a shelf, along with washcloths, and folded on the toilet were my old clothes, converse and all, not to mention clean underwear. Daman's jacket was gone though, part of me wanted it back in a desperate kind of way, but I also got the feeling that if I had it I would just be an easier target and better bait.
The shower in the bathroom was also a bathtub, I figured I'd make use of that after I'd showered off all my nastiness so I wouldn't be stewing in my own filth.
Not a lot of people go an entire year without showering, I showered almost everyday when I was alive, even if it wasn't a necessity, it just felt good and was a wonderful place to escape to, not to mention it was warm in the morning.
The shower felt glorious, I had forgotten just how wonderful they could be. There was even a razor so I could shave. I'd always taken smooth legs for granted, no more would that be the case. As I rinsed out my hair I felt like I should be seeing actual dark water swirling away, but all I saw was the murkiness of soap.
Once I had sufficiently cleaned my person, I turned off the showerhead and allowed the tub to fill with hot water. If the shower felt good, this was a near euphoric feeling. I hadn't taken a moment just to relax with myself since I had died. I'd been too worked up in the hallway, too enraptured by Daman in the doors, and too agitated with the conflicting points of view since I'd escaped to enjoy a moment of peace. But finally no one was pestering me, there were no locked doors and no people yelling at each other or calling me the wrong name. I'm sure I could've stayed in the tub all day, but eventually the water cooled and my stomach began to growl again.
I toweled off, dressed, and tied my hair into a ponytail with an elastic that I found on the counter near the sink faucet. I looked like I could be getting ready to go to school, the only thing missing was my backpack and Maria outside the house honking for me come get in the car so we could get some breakfast before school.
I remembered Michael’s offer and my stomach twisted into knots. When I met him the first time he didn’t seem like the kind of person who’d ask an unsuspecting girl to be bait so that he and his friends could test a few theories. I sighed and squeezed some water out of the end of my ponytail. I guess first impressions really aren’t the best basis for knowing someone.
My stomach growled again, I hoped I would be able to find my way back to the kitchen.
After a few attempts, and a lot of yelling at my bedroom door, I finally opened it to find the hallway I’d first walked into when I woke up for the first time. At the same instance I put my foot through the door, another at the end of the hall opened.
A head covered in red hair poked out of the opening, she was wearing near the same thing I had been when I woke up, but on her it looked like a piece of art. The clothes didn’t drown her like they had me, she filled them out and her looks could’ve rivaled Kinga’s any day. There was only one person I’d ever met who could do all that in pajamas with sleep mussed hair.
“Maria!” I shouted without thinking.
The head turned to me, it was definitely her, but there was something wrong. Her dark green eyes seemed dead, there was no recognition for me in them, and she didn’t appear to care that she didn’t look ridiculously put together.
“Maria?” I asked, more to myself. I was afraid I was mistaken, there’s no way that the person I was looking at could be my best friend. She just had to be an uncanny look-a-like. There’s no way Maria would suddenly change like that, she wouldn’t have just forgotten me.
The girl didn’t move as I approached, “You don’t know me do you?” I asked.
She didn’t speak, couldn’t even look at me, but she also didn’t object when I reached for her right hand. There was only one sure way to know if the person in front of me was Maria.
There was a birthmark in a close to perfect circle on the underside of her wrist; I held my breath as I slowly turned her hand over. There it was, my heart dropped, this empty shell of a person was Maria. I couldn’t stop myself from wrapping her in a hug. Any harbored anger I’d had at her was gone, I was just glad I had found her.
My touch seemed to awaken something deep within Maria and she put her arms around me as well, hesitantly at first, but eventually her hug was almost as tight as the one she’d given me when her mother had first died. It wasn’t a friendly hug, it was asking for support, in a way she was asking for help, Maria needed me to be there for her and she was afraid if I let go she would sink farther into despair.
After a few minutes I realized my shoulder was wet, Maria had been silently sobbing the whole time, her face buried in my shirt. I stroked her hair and hushed her like my mom used to when I was hurting, which was all too often.
“Your name is Maria Cole,” I whispered softly, “you were the most beautiful girl in our entire high school, all the girls wanted to be you, all the guys wanted to date you. You never got less than an A on anything in your entire life, and for some reason, you were friends with me. Your mother committed suicide when you were fifteen, but you made it, you helped your dad and brothers. Remember them? They were twins,”
I carried on reminding Maria of her life like this for almost a quarter hour. Eventually the tears stopped and she lifted her head to look straight into my eyes. There still wasn’t deep recognition of my face, but I was familiar to her now.
“Let’s go get you cleaned up,” I said, “would you like that?”
Maria didn’t answer, but she looked down at herself, seemingly taking in the stat
e of her appearance and didn’t object when I took her hand and led her into my room.
I called on the shower again, when it appeared I helped Maria into a shallow bath, I tried to fill it up further, but the moment the water reached past her navel she began to scream as though she were being murdered. As soon as I drained it to just below her belly button she was fine again, and allowed me to help her clean herself.
Finally, she began to whine and attempting to pull herself from the water, but her arms were thinner than they had been in life, whatever had happened to her between death and now had weakened her in a way much deeper than I could understand.
I retrieved a towel and wrapped it around her while also pulling her into a standing position. Without even thinking I reached over to grab clothes from off the toilet where mine had been. I had helped her into the simple green dress and black jacket and flats before I realized that the clothing hadn’t been there when I walked in.
I looked around to see if there was someone behind me, but the room was empty aside from Maria and I. Maria touched my arm, scaring me out of my search. She was rubbing her stomach and pointing to her mouth, a definite sign that she was hungry.
"Okay," I said. I took her hand and led her back into the main room. It only took me two tries that time to get where I wanted to go, and the door actually opened straight into the kitchen. Maria's grip on my hand tightened and I heard her inhale sharply. Apparently she hadn't been expecting so many people, but she didn't pull away when I dragged her into the queue waiting for food.
Each time I attempted to remove my hand from Maria's clasp she would tighten her hold until it felt like she would crush my hand.
"Maria," I said through teeth clenched with pain, "you're hurting me."
Maria's grip lessened slightly, but there was still no way I could have gotten my hand out of her grip.
As we neared the front of the line my stomach began to growl with a new ferocity. I could smell the food distinctly now and see trays of it in the hands of people going to devour it. Waffles, not just one or two, but heaps of them, drowned in syrup, a small pile of sausage and bacon and a tall glass of milk or orange juice. Obviously, it was breakfast for dinner.
