by Ann Bakshis
“I didn’t know,” I whisper as tears form.
He bends down until his face is practically touching mine. “Of course you did. They all know when they approach the surface of the water. Everyone’s decision to survive is made just before they willingly move from the ether and into the lake.”
“I thought you said you pulled me from the ether, but now you’re saying I made that decision?”
“Yes,” he hisses into my ear. “Everyone is given the option to either stay in the ether until it ends and you’re sucked into oblivion, or you follow the stream that leads to the lake. Your natural instinct was to choose the stream, and now here you are.” He raises his head slightly. “Your death has brought you home, but your resurrection will bring you everlasting life and the admiration of millions for generations to come.”
I close my eyes as the tears that had been pooling in the corners finally fall onto the table. The ropes are loosened slightly, which eases the tension in my limbs. I feel powerless, weak, and vulnerable. I doubt I made this decision for myself as I wanted to die, which is why I ran into Lymont. He claims there are others like me, that we’re all destined for the same thing. I wonder what he has in store for my world if he does make a return.
This can’t be happening, but it is. I want to keep struggling, but my heart has already succumbed… it did the moment I got here.
“Submit, Sara. Allow me inside and you can return to your world,” he says to me, his lips brushing the edge of my ear.
“As your slave?”
“No,” he whispers.
I open my eyes as he climbs on top of me, finally removing his cloak. His skin is pale, his eyes a bright blue, his lips full, and his dark shoulder-length hair tickles my cheeks. I’ve been wanting to see him in the flesh since the moment I arrived, but not this way. I know what he wants and what I have to say to give my permission. If I don’t, this game of his will continue forever until he ultimately wins. He claims I have a choice, but in the same breath he says I don’t. I have no options. I’m his, I just won’t admit it. He lowers himself the rest of the way, our bodies pressed solidly against each other. I want to turn my head, but he places a hand gently around my throat to prevent movement.
“Say it, Sara, and all will be well,” he says, brushing my lips with his.
I close my eyes and will myself to escape, if not physically then mentally.
“Yes, Arliss,” escapes from my mouth. “I’m yours.”
His lips take mine as he enters my body. Warmth spreads between us and I moan from the motions. I don’t want to show my pleasure or the fact that I’m desiring him more than I should, but I sense he already knows this. My muscles begin to ache and my blood boils, but he keeps going. I feel as if I’m about to explode from both pain and pleasure, and I love every second of it. I don’t want it to stop or I’ll die.
This must have been how that woman felt the other night.
My body can’t take the sensuality he’s giving me anymore, and I begin to scream, which only intensifies his arousal. Pain explodes behind my eyes as he pushes me to the breaking point, my throat becoming raw with my cries.
Five
“No!” I shout, bolting up, my head nearly colliding with Keegan’s.
My gaze swings around the room as I try to catch my breath and get my bearings. I’m on my bed in the apartment, my clothes are soaked. Trickles of sweat race down my cheeks, dripping into my lap.
“You’re okay,” Keegan says, though my heart is pounding so hard in my ears I struggle to understand him. “I got you,” he continues, rubbing my arms.
“What happened?” I ask, panting since air won’t stay in my lungs.
“I found you unconscious on the floor. You’ve been fighting something in a deep sleep for several hours.”
I lean against the headboard and take in a trembling breath. “I feel like I’m going to be sick.”
“I’ll get you something from the mess hall. You probably just need to eat.”
Keegan rushes out of the room. When I know the front door is closed, I slip out of bed and head straight for the bathroom. My stomach is still churning, but the desire to become sick is passing. The drying sweat makes me feel chilled, so I strip down, but before stepping into the shower I check both my arms and legs for ligature marks because the dream felt so real. My skin is free from any blemishes, with the exception of the spider and butterfly tattoos, yet I can still sense the ropes’ presence. I feel sore, angry, and violated from that nightmare, but something in the back of my mind keeps telling me that it was all real.
Every disgusting bit of it.
I turn the shower on hot, close the glass door after stepping inside, and slide to the bottom of the tub. I pull my knees up to my chest, wrap my arms around them, and shudder as I recall the Arliss’ touch, his breath on my body, and the passion I experienced like never before. The water is almost scalding but I sit through it, punishing myself for what I did, or believe I did. I turn the temperature down just as my skin begins to turn red. Steam has completely filled the tiny space, so much so that I can barely see my hand in front of my face.
The phrase I shouldn’t be alive, keeps echoing in my mind. What did I agree to? I slam my head hard against the tile, hoping to knock myself out, but I only wind up giving myself a headache. I need to get out of here and find the others, but how and where? What does he want me to do once I locate them? Why am I even contemplating any of this?
The door to the bathroom squeaks open, which pulls some of the steam out into the hall. Keegan kneels down next to the tub, opens the partition, and turns off the water. He leans in slightly but keeps his distance probably out of fear of what his wife might have been turned into. I’m sure he’s heard that the remains located in Lymont are mine and he doesn’t know what to make of it. He was so adamant about having his wife return to him, but now he’s avoiding touching me. I must have blurted out something while I was unconscious for him to be acting this way.
“I brought you some eggs and toast,” he says calmly. “Do you think you could eat them?”
I move my head so I’m facing him, and just stare.
“Maybe Nex should have another look at you.”
“No,” I respond hastily. “I just need a few minutes.”
He smiles, pats my leg, and leaves.
I stand and reach for a towel to wrap myself in before I get cold. I’m drawn to the mirror covered in steam over the vanity. I reach for it, then draw back. I’m afraid to look at my reflection, terrified of what might look back. I know I’m me now. The real me, reborn by the Arliss. Perhaps I’m afraid I’ll notice pieces of him in my image if I look at the mirror the wrong way.
As I reach for the door handle, a voice hisses in my head.
“You’re mine now, Sara, and don’t you forget it.”
I shake my head and enter the small hallway between the master bedroom and the living room. Keegan is sitting on the couch, my food on the coffee table. I sit next to him, pick up my plate, and try to eat. The food isn’t as fresh as it was hours ago, and Wavern did say it doesn’t get better the longer you wait to eat. I glance at the display and notice the Daily Slate has been updated. Squad Eight is off the rest of today and most of tomorrow. However, they need to report to a launch site, along with Squad Two, at nineteen-hundred hours tomorrow. My eyes move down the screen and that’s when I see that the memorial is scheduled to begin at seven tomorrow night. This is the first time I notice that the time for the two sections of the Daily Slate are posted in different formats, when all other information is transcribed the same.
“Ah, yes,” the Arliss whispers in my ear, “the celebration of my demise. How thoughtful of them.”
I almost choke on my food at his remark.
“Yes, Sara, I can see and hear everything you can. Thank you for letting me inside.”
I want to shout at him to go away, but Keegan is watching me. He’d really think I’d lost my mind if I just started talking to an invisible person
.
Keegan pats me on the back as I try to swallow the bits of egg that are refusing to go down. He fetches a glass of water when his efforts fail, and it takes several big gulps before the food finally budges. I put my plate back on the coffee table and lean into the couch, trying to bury myself in its cushions.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Keegan asks after several awkward moments of silence.
“Talk about what?”
“Why you’re still alive?”
“I thought you didn’t believe I was dead when you went looking for me. Now you’re questioning it?” I ask, getting defensive.
“I’m just trying to understand what happened!” he exclaims. “You have to admit that what we found in Lymont is pretty strange.”
“You think I’m someone else, don’t you?”
“No, babe, of course not,” he says, pulling me into his arms. “I’m sorry if that’s how this is coming across. I’m just trying to make heads or tails out of all of this. You’re sure you can’t remember anything before the blast?”
Before, no, but shortly thereafter, yes, I think to myself.
“No, nothing,” I respond. “Look, can we just forget it ever happened and move on? It’s not something I’m comfortable talking about.”
“We can’t simply forget about it, Sara,” Keegan responds, also becoming defensive. “We need to figure out what happened out there. Better yet, why you weren’t at your station that morning and in Lymont instead?”
“What post was I supposed to be at that day?”
“Lookout number four, only you didn’t show when Wavern conducted rollcall. It wasn’t until I climbed into lookout number two that we knew you were heading towards Lymont,” he says.
“Doesn’t the compound have internal security cameras? Surely those would’ve picked up my movements before I got out.”
“They did, but they don’t explain why you went out in the first place.”
“I keep telling you, I don’t know and I’m probably never going to remember, so why can’t everyone just drop it?” I comment as I push away from him and back into the corner of the couch.
Keegan gives me a puzzled look. “Who else said something to you?”
“No one. Well, not in those exact words.”
“Who?” he asks forcefully.
I pull my legs up under me, as if trying to create a cocoon for myself. “Grimm. According to him, my whole personality has changed. He doesn’t believe the shit Andra is spreading, and neither does anyone else from what I’ve seen.”
“All the more reason not to drop this,” Keegan practically shouts. “Be realistic; it was a miracle you survived, let alone without a scratch. People are going to talk and question what happened, and you should be one of them.”
“Right now, I just want to move on from the last few days and go to bed.”
I get up and head towards the bedroom, Keegan following closely behind. I drop my towel and slide under the covers. I’m too exhausted to care about going to bed naked. Besides, he’s my husband so it’s not like he’s never seen me naked before. He sits on the other side of the bed, wringing his hands.
“Look,” he begins without turning to face me, “I think it’s best if I just stay with the rest of the squad for the time being.”
“What? Why? You were practically fighting Wavern to get me out of the medical ward, and now you want to leave me alone?” I ask, becoming enraged.
“You need recovery time, and I’m not helping by bombarding you with insinuations and questions. Besides, we need to rebuild what we had so you feel comfortable around me again.”
“You’re making it sound like we’ve broken up or something. Our relationship is fine and I do feel comfortable around you. You’re my damn husband, Keegan. What more do you want from me? Stay.”
He turns, leans over to me, and kisses me hard. Heat radiates up my spine as I slide closer to him, wanting more, but he pulls away.
“In time, Sara, but for now you need rest.”
“This is bullshit!” I shout. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Nothing!” he yells in return. “Fine, do you want the truth? I need time to adjust. Grimm is right, you have changed. I want my wife back and she’s not here.”
“What makes you say that? I haven’t changed.”
He grabs my left wrist and points to the tattoo. “Where the hell did this come from, Sara?”
“I told you, I don’t know!”
“You’re a fucking liar! Grimm gave you this tattoo, didn’t he? Just like he gave you the butterfly on your lower back. I could never persuade you to get a tattoo, but the minute he suggests it you’re all for it. Is this a way you two can secretly fuck each other without actually physically touching?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask, astounded by the accusation.
“He has this exact image branded on his left wrist, he’s the only person I’ve ever seen with it, and he’s had it since I can remember. He’s always wanted you, but I got you first. Is this a way for the two of you to go behind my back, a way to fulfill the desires you’ve kept hidden from everyone?” Keegan pushes me into the mattress, gripping my arm so tightly my hand begins to turn purple from the lack of blood. “If this turns out to be his handiwork, I’ll kill him… and you.” He shoves me away, turns off the lights, and slams the front door as he leaves.
I’m puzzled and stunned by his allegations. I remember Keegan being jealous at times of how close Grimm and I used to be, but that was ages ago. It all changed when I married Keegan, or at least I thought it had. Does Grimm really have this mark on his left wrist? If so, how come no one else has made the connection?
I need to find out why I ran into Lymont, now more than ever. The Arliss made it sound like I’d stumbled upon some horrendous piece of information, but what would be so bad that I’d kill myself over in order to keep it quiet? I close my eyes and try to get some sleep, but it’s hours before my mind finally grows tired.
I can tell I’m not alone in my bedroom before I even open my eyes. What I’m not expecting is the person sitting next to me on the bed. Grimm glares down at me, his mouth open in a wide smile. I’m about to sit up, when I remember I don’t have any clothes on, so I quickly pull the covers up tighter against my neck.
“Don’t you look happy to see me,” he says, winking.
“Go away,” I respond, trying to bury myself under the blankets.
He grabs them just before I’m able to cover my head. “Not so fast. Andra has temporarily reassigned you to my unit and I need you to get your ass in gear, pronto.”
“Lucky me,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “Why am I being reassigned?”
“For your safety… and ours.”
“What does that mean?”
“Let’s just say many in the compound are leery of you and your miraculous return. Andra feels that if you’re to remain with Wavern, his judgement might get compromised if he needs to take quick action against you. He views you like a daughter, which could get him and the rest of the squad into some serious trouble. But you see, I have no problem if I need to beat the shit out of you,” Grimm answers, smiling wider.
I roll my eyes as I’m not in the mood to debate the change. “Could you leave so I can get dressed?” I ask, pushing him off the bed with my feet.
He winks again, stands, and goes out the bedroom door, neglecting to close it behind himself. I quickly dart over and slam the door shut, grab the last set of clean clothes from my locker, lace up my boots, and search all over for my wristbands, only to remember I left them on the bathroom counter. I slip into the hall then into the bathroom where I brush my hair, pull it up into a ponytail, and secure the leather bracelets. Grimm is leaning against the wall by the door, impatiently waiting when I enter the living room. He hurries me out of my quarters, up the stairs, through the rec room, and into what he calls the weapons and ammunition bunker.
The room is small and resembles a hollowed-out-shel
l, with a staircase leading down to our immediate right, and another tunnel just to the left of that. Metal lockers fill the space, almost making me feel claustrophobic. Grimm opens an upper locker and removes two holsters, and straps one to each of his thighs. I notice there are names on all the lockers, so I go looking for mine, which is one row over and down along the floor. Jules probably would’ve returned my weapons and equipment here, but when I open the door the locker is empty.
“You didn’t really think I’d let you go armed, now, did you?” Grimm asks, poking his head around the corner. “Besides, the weapons aren’t kept in here, just their rigging.”
“Then why is this called the weapons and ammunition bunker?” I ask, getting mad.
He points to the floor with one finger while gesturing for me to be silent with another. That’s when I hear muffled sounds of rounds being fired.
“The shooting range is below us. The level below that houses all the firearms, bullets, parts, maintenance, and storage for this bunker. No one except Squad Five has access to that level. We wouldn’t just want anyone getting a hold of our weapons, now, would we?”
I know that last comment is aimed at me, but I act like I don’t hear it. He nudges my shoulder and directs me to the other tunnel, which is slightly longer than most others in the compound. Lights pop on as we enter, illuminating the room from underneath the wire-mesh cages that line the walls, and from two cylindrical conveyors that sit in the center of the room. Grimm stops me and gestures towards the cages.
“Since you obviously don’t remember, let me explain this room to you,” he says with extreme sarcasm. “The cages on the left house our survival packs. This is where you would store your medical gear, food packets, any additional ammunition, your cameras, radios, and surveillance equipment. The doors to the right of those cages lead out of the compound. It’s a soft seal door, but when you’re about twenty feet from the main tunnel you reach the hard seal door, which requires a scan of your palm in order to open.” He pauses, probably waiting for my reaction in regard to the requirements to escape the enclosure, but I’m already well aware that I left on purpose. “The door next to that comes from the decon chamber. Over on our right are all our radios, cameras, and surveillance equipment. The opening to the left of those cages will take you straight into the control center.”
