The Man in Black cracked a smile as he glared at Hope Memorial Hospital and pondered his next move.
Chapter Twenty
The Story of Blake
My eyes fluttered open, taking in the fluorescent lighting and familiar blasé atmosphere comprising my room. I felt as though I’d been through a war zone where I’d been a casualty. Pain still pervaded throughout my shoulder, running down my back. Slowly, I lifted my arm out from under the covers and noticed fresh needle marks on the skin of my forearm.
“It’s alive.” I turned my head to see Blake sitting in a chair near my bed, his feet propped up on my open dresser drawer.
“How long have you been sitting there?”
“About three hours.”
“What happened to me?”
“Your heart. Apparently, it’s made of ice after all. Imagine that.”
“You’re a funny man.”
“You came close to suffering cardiac arrest. It’s a pretty common scenario with us along with our joints falling apart at the seams at the most inopportune moments.”
“Am I out of the woods now? Shouldn’t I be in a hospital or something?”
“You have one doctor five doors down and another monitoring your every bodily function in a laboratory at the other end of this place. I think you’re better off here. Not to mention, conventional medicine would be of little help to you now.”
I looked down at my body and couldn’t help but notice that I was in a tank top and sweat pants.
“Don’t worry, Kara dressed you, not me. Your suit’s hanging up in the closet.” I nodded, a bit relieved. Blake pushed in the dresser door and stood up.
“Where are you going?”
“To my room. You’re conscious now, so there’s no need for me to be here anymore.”
“How sweet of you.”
“What? Do you want me to crawl in bed and cuddle with you?”
“Totally not where I was going with that.” I sat up in bed. The ache from my shoulder returned, causing me to wince. “What’s your story, Blake?”
He looked at me, confused. “I have no story.”
“Sure you do. We all have one. I’ll help you out. Where are you from? Why are you even here if you hate it so much? Put those answers together and you have some semblance of a story.”
“Okay, let’s see. I’ve gone through almost a handful of partners since I’ve been here. If anything, that fact alone has taught me that sharing a story with someone means you’ve somehow bonded yourself with them.” A solemn demeanor overcame him. He stared at the floor, rubbing his fingers down the folds of his training shorts. “And this sense of attachment inevitably leads to feelings of devastation and guilt when you look over the ledge of a fifteen story building and see their remains splattered on the pavement below.”
“What if I promise not to die?”
“If only that were possible. Our existence is a lonely, thankless one, and I guess it would be nice to actually be able to care and be cared about.” He heaved a deep sigh, reclaiming his seat next to my bed. “When I first came here, I was like you. Optimistic, determined, and vengeful. I was brought in right on the cusp of my best friend’s murder at the hands of that bastard, and I didn’t think twice when I was approached by Victor with the promise of being able to spill the blood of the thing that so callously bathes in the agony of others. I didn’t think twice about leaving my life, my job as a fire fighter for the city of Cambridge, my apartment, my family, my girlfriend. I didn’t think twice at all, until a year later. After I’d grown so listless and disenchanted with sitting here by myself not knowing how those I’d left behind were faring. So, I went back to Cambridge and learned quickly that life really does go on quite well without you.”
“She moved on?”
“She didn’t just move, she strapped on a rocket pack and blasted away. When I went back there, I saw her. She was married…and pregnant.”
“I‘m sorry, Blake.”
Blake ran his hand through his thick, disheveled hair. “You aren’t a prisoner here, Celaine. You can go back as long as they don’t see you in the outside world. We’re given pagers that they use liberally to notify us. However, even though you can go, I wouldn’t recommend it to you. Like me, there will be a day when you look through one of their windows only to wish you hadn’t. That fact is an inevitable one. You’ll give up on love, on life and then, five years later, you’ll just be bitter, looking forward to death as a way out.”
“Blake, it doesn’t have to be like that. The Man in Black will fall one day and we can both return to life as normal. We’ll be able to reclaim what we lost.”
“Always the optimist.”
“Why do you hate Victor so much?’
He smirked. “You’ll see for yourself someday. Victor has an agenda. I haven’t figured out what it is, but I’m pretty sure it’s politically motivated in some form.”
After putting some thought into it, I decided to ask him the question that had been on my mind from the moment I made the decision to leave my life as I knew it. “I’ve wondered how we’re selected. Out of the billions of people in this world, why us?”
“You’re full of questions tonight.”
“What else do I have going on?”
“Honestly, I don’t know how we’re selected. I mean, I know what I was told when I asked that same question. But, what the actual truth is, I have no idea. They say it’s random, based upon our social security numbers. If the person whose number is selected is able, qualified, and willing, then so be it. The kicker is that every person selected has had someone they loved tragically killed by all this madness. That’s no coincidence if you ask me.”
“That’s why they’ve never had anyone turn them down?” I asked.
Blake looked at me, clearly troubled, as though he wanted to tell me something but couldn’t. “Yeah, no one’s turned them down,” he finally replied.
The charm from Chase’s mother’s necklace slid down on the chain around my neck. I reached for it, feeling its coarse exterior between my fingers as I guided it back to its position down the center of my neck. Blake watched me intently, a frown forming on his face. “You should take that off, you know,” he said.
“Over my dead body.”
“I’m just trying to help you out. Over time that charm will feel heavier and heavier. Its presence will begin to mess with your mind.”
“I appreciate your concern for my mental well-being.” Blake stood up, fiddling with a controller of some kind on top of my dresser. “What is that for? Do I have some sort of hidden television in here?”
“No one showed this to you yet?”
“Not that I can recall. Then again, electronics aren’t my thing, so I could very easily have tuned them out while they were explaining it.”
“This little contraption has given me the added dosage of sanity I’ve needed to get me through long, sleepless nights when I’ve had nothing to do but lie awake in bed while the whole world sleeps with their dreams still intact.” He pointed to a dial at the top of the control. “This just regulates your room temperature.” He pushed a button adjacent to the knob. Music appeared, flowing throughout the room. “I don’t think I need to explain that button further.” He hit it again and the music disappeared. “Do you remember when I told you that the windows you were admiring in the sitting room were nothing more than holograms?”
“How could I forget? That completely ruined my day.”
“Well, watch this. Lights off.”
My room became pitch black. “Let me guess, Cameron came up with this.”
“No, if that were the case the lights would just slightly dim and Barry White music would be playing from the speakers. Actually, I came up with the idea and bet Drew that he couldn’t pull it off. That’s all it took. A week later, I had what I wanted and Drew had the satisfaction of proving me wrong. Two birds with one stone, I guess you could say.”
“Blake Cohen, I’m impressed. There is a sense of humor lod
ged in that thick skull of yours.”
“Okay,” he said without missing a beat, “here it goes.”
The ceiling illuminated, displaying the image of a serene waterfall, but it wasn’t just the pictures that struck me, it was the realism. I actually heard the water rushing over the falls, felt the wind on my face, and smelled the fresh earth churned up by the rushing water.
“Blake, this is absolutely amazing.”
“There’s more.”
The scene changed to one of a field of wildflowers. Vibrant purples, blues and oranges intermingled with the tall grass. I heard the wind whipping through the surrounding trees, the birds singing in the background. The smell of spring air invaded my nostrils, ushering in a sense of serenity.
“At the risk of emasculating myself,” Blake began, “I’d have to say that the meadow is probably one of my favorite ones. For a split second, I always forget where I am, where I came from, or why I’m even here. There’s nothing else that brings about that same type of quiet meditation for me quite like this. I feel almost like I’m me again.”
I looked up at the ceiling, admiring the meadow, thankful for my newfound vision of Blake.
“Lights on,” he spoke. The meadow disappeared into the depths of the ceiling. I looked up at Blake, noticing that he was looking at me, too. “Thank you,” he said.
“For what?”
“For making me feel, for the first time in a long time…like I’m not alone anymore.”
“Don’t mention it.” I gave Blake a half smile. “Thank you by the way.”
“For what?”
“For beating the crap out of me and almost forcing me into cardiac arrest…oh, and fixing my shoulder, too.”
“Don’t mention it.” Blake stretched, allowing a yawn to escape from his lips. “Well, I’ve been up for four days straight, so I think I should try to rest a little.”
“That’s probably a good idea. More training tomorrow?”
“Always.”
“Goodnight, Blake.” He nodded, disappearing out the door.
“Lights off.” It again became pitch black in my room. I reached for the controller Blake had left on my bed and pushed the bottom button. The image of the meadow reappeared. I hit the button again, greeted this time by a forest of snow covered trees, pure and untouched by humanity. Cold air invaded my room, making me shiver. Pushing the button again revealed a beach scene; another push revealed an apple orchard; another one caused a city party scene at night, clearly before the institution of curfew, to appear. A couple more presses ultimately revealed what I had hoped my search would uncover. Above me, as though I were lying outside in the grass, was a starry night sky. I closed my eyes, breathing in the slightly humid, but nonetheless refreshing, summer air while listening to crickets chirping seemingly around me.
My eyes opened, staring at the starry scene unfolding before me. I scanned the sky until I located the constellation I’d been looking for. The Big Dipper and the special star contained within it, the last star at the tip of the handle, was directly above me. I stared at this star for the remainder of the night, imagining Chase running toward me, hurtling over the constellations in the night sky.
Chapter Twenty-One
The Simulation Evaluation
I didn’t sleep at all. Despite the rejuvenated sense of calmness I felt, it still wasn’t enough to settle my body down to accommodate rest. The funny thing was that I didn’t even feel tired at all. It was as if I’d gained a second wind that was far from ready to blow over. For what seemed like an eternity, I lay there motionless, ready to start my day before deciding to beat the tone.
“Lights on.”
The room lit up, stinging my eyes, causing me to rub them in response. My shoulder was still sore, but the pain was surprisingly more manageable. Pushing the shower curtain aside, I turned on the hot water in the hopes it would alleviate the rest of the pain. As I stepped into the shower, the near-scalding water enveloped my body, caressing every inch of my skin. My muscles loosened up and I was provided with a brief sense of comfort. I moved my afflicted shoulder in semi-circles to stretch the muscles further.
Wrapped in a towel, I padded back to my room and opened the closet door. Hmmm…superhero costume or civilian clothes? Decisions, decisions. I grabbed the suit, figuring that I should continue to try to break it in with the hopes that perhaps, like a new pair of shoes, after a few fittings it wouldn’t be quite as uncomfortable. As it was, it was so tight that I was afraid to eat for fear that another ounce of weight gain would cause a mass explosion within its molecularly-engineered, Kevlar, diamond-encrusted structure.
The hallway was quiet as I trekked down it. Everyone was probably still asleep. At Blake’s door I paused in an attempt to determine whether or not I could hear any rustling, but not so much as a snore emanated from his room. I opted not to push the plate next to his door to disturb him, remembering what he’d told me last night about not having slept in four days.
As I traveled down the hall through the double doors, I noticed that the television in the sitting room was already on and tuned in to the five o’clock news. I surmised that someone must already be awake before confirming that notion by detecting a whiff of sausage and eggs in the air. The kitchen crew must already be busy in the kitchen as cooking breakfast to suit each individual palate at the Epicenter surely took some time. Curious, I ventured toward the dining hall to investigate.
Ever since the implantation of the transmitter, I’d been non-stop hungry and, as I approached the dining hall, I heard the clanging of pots and pans accompanying the sizzle of food in a skillet. I peeked in just in time to see Colby cracking an egg on the side of an oversized pan then expertly dropping it in along with probably half a dozen others.
“Good morning, Celaine.”
I turned my head to see Becca mixing pancake batter in a large stainless steel bowl. “I swear I’m not staking out the food.” My face flushed.
She laughed. “Oh, that’s all right. Blake comes in early all the time. That’s why you hardly ever see him eating much when everyone gathers together for meals. We know how hungry you guys can get.”
“Yeah, it’s a little overpowering.”
Henry stepped out of the freezer with sausage patties in hand. “We have some eggs and sausage links made up if you’re hungry now.”
“Oh, no…no…I’ll wait. I’m just more or less walking around out of sheer boredom more than anything else.”
“Yeah,” Henry began, “it has been quite a while between attacks.”
“Maybe the bastard has finally met his maker,” Colby added between egg cracks.
“No, he’s preparing himself for something big,” Henry interceded. “This next one won’t be just some tiny bonfire where maybe a handful of people are injured. If you look at his track record the worst attacks always come after a period of relative dormancy. It’s almost like his homicidal lust builds to overflowing. I predict that, in his next attack, hundreds, if not thousands, will die.”
I shuddered. Becca paused her mixing to look at me, gauging my reaction. “Blake and I will be ready. We have to be,” I stated rather unconvincingly.
“That you do,” Henry agreed. “You two are the only hope we have of regaining relative normalcy around here again.” I nodded, feeling the urge to leave the room.
“Celaine, are you sure you don’t want anything?” Becca called after me. “Really, I can make you anything you want. It’s no trouble.”
“No, I’m fine,” I said without turning around.
When I was out of view, I heard a slap and Becca’s voice saying, “Good job, Henry,” in a disgusted tone.
I walked down the hall with Henry’s words replaying in my mind. “Hundreds, if not thousands, will die.” He was right. The death tolls in the larger attacks had been escalating. The Man in Black was getting bolder with his targets, selecting those more frequented and heavily populated. Was I going to be ready for the next attack when it came or would I be more of
a burden to Blake? Would I be just another one of Blake’s former partners later identified only as “Blake’s successor” instead of by name? No. I wouldn’t allow that to happen. If I was going down, I was going to take that monster with me.
The training room appeared in front of me. I needed to be there; I needed to learn everything I could to survive long enough to fulfill my promise. Through the closed doors, I heard the familiar clanging of fingers on a keyboard. Yet another person was awake at this unholy hour. I debated whether or not to go in, but figured there was no reason why I shouldn’t.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Cameron turned from his work with the simulator to greet me.
“Morning, Cameron.”
“It’s Cam to you,” he said with a wink.
“Okay, Cam, what are you doing up already?”
“Genius never sleeps.”
“Of course. How silly of me.”
“You look like you’re feeling better.” He’d turned back around to resume his typing.
“I’m alive. That’s all that matters.”
Cameron feverishly typed numerous characters into a program, then minimized it to reveal, in the foreground of yet another screen, the same orange sky and demolished buildings that were in the program he’d been working on the day before, except, in this screen stood a male character decked out in fatigues, a t-shirt, and a bandolier.
“Another character for your life-sized video game?”
“You betcha’. The opening act before the finale starring The Man in Black. Blake likes to warm up first.”
Goosebumps appeared on my arms at the mere mention of that name. Cameron hit a couple of keys and the character sprung to life, leaping from one pile of concrete rubble to another. The push of another key prompted the man to ball his fingers into a fist and, with fury, he punched the concrete, causing it to rupture in two. I imagined my body under the force of that fist, which sent a sickening chill to course down my spine.
Enigma Black Page 19
