by Valerie Puri
“That’s the door to the back room. This is good, Jennie might still be in there.” Travis whispered hopefully.
“The light’s gone out,” Ethan pulled away from the glass. “Maybe they just finished the meeting.”
They heard a door opening around the corner from them. Hushed voices drifted on the fog from the street which ran alongside the building. Travis strained to listen to what they were saying, but he couldn’t make anything out.
He and Ethan crept to the edge of the shop and stopped at the corner. Travis crouched down, allowing Ethan to lean over him so both of them could listen.
“Foolish girl,” came a woman’s voice. “We cannot put our people at risk every time someone goes missing.”
“She’s upset.” A man’s voice, which Travis recognized as Uncle Albert’s, spoke. “So many people around her recently have been taken by the Order.”
The Order? Travis wondered.
“That may be, but we all have suffered great losses. She will get over it in time,” the woman said.
Travis couldn’t identify the woman by her voice. He was tempted to peek around the corner to catch a glimpse of her, but he was afraid of being spotted. Something about how she was talking about Jennie troubled him. Despite the cold, Travis felt beads of nervous sweat forming at his hairline.
“Do you think what she said about the lemerons at the wall has any truth to it?” Uncle Albert asked. “I have no reason to doubt her, but if she is right, this could threaten the entire Commune, not just our counterparts.”
There was a moment’s hesitation before the woman answered. “I don’t know.” A prolonged pause filled the air. “I need to reflect on what this could mean. At first light, I’ll investigate the wall myself. Get some sleep. I will be in touch.”
With that, the door closed, and footsteps approached their position. Travis grabbed Ethan by his forearm. He hurried back the way they had come and pulled Ethan into a narrow gap between two buildings facing the square. Standing silently in the compact hiding place, they waited.
After a few minutes, a woman with long blonde hair came into view. She walked away from them, preventing Travis from seeing her face. Her stride was deliberate and confident as she crossed the square in front of them. Something was familiar about her. Just before she disappeared into the darkness, Travis realized this woman was wearing long robes. He couldn’t distinguish the color in the faint moonlight, but they were unmistakably the robes of an Elder. “Elder Marlene,” Travis whispered in astonishment.
“She hasn’t changed at all,” Ethan said through clenched teeth.
“What?” Travis asked, confused.
“She abandoned me as a baby, and now she’s abandoning Jennie and Belle.” Ethan’s hushed reply was as sharp as his dagger.
“Are you saying…” Travis stammered. “Is Marlene your mother?”
“She’s not a very good one, is she?” Ethan asked rhetorically. “Let’s go find Jennie.”
51
Something slammed into Jennie’s left cheek, and she let out a reflexive yelp. Pain shot through the bones in her face. Something wet trickled down her cheek. Jennie brought her hand up to her face and felt a sharp pain as her fingers found the split open skin. She lowered her hand and rubbed the viscous liquid between her fingers, astonished at how much blood there was.
Another fist found Jennie in the dark, and she bent over, clutching her stomach.
Not wanting to take another blow, Jennie knelt down and huddled on the floor. A frustrated grunt permeated the room as Sash swung again, this time with nothing there to stop his speeding fist. Jennie’s relief was short lived as a heavy boot struck her side. Sash gripped her arms and pulled her to her feet.
“Trying to outsmart me, I see,” Sash snarled at her. His breath smelled of spoiled milk. “That’s enough fun and games.”
Sash released one of her arms and tugged her downward. He was bending over to pick up something heavy. Jennie couldn’t see, but she thought he was picking up that man she’d witnessed him carrying earlier. When he stood up again, Sash led Jennie forward, and she stumbled in the dark.
They did not walk far before Jennie took a step and found no ground beneath her foot. Her body was propelled forward by the pull of gravity and her heel caught the edge of something hard. Sash released her arm. Her momentum sent her tumbling headfirst. Jennie felt her body crashing against stone steps. She could feel blood vessels bursting in her arms and legs as each of her limbs slammed into the hard edges. It felt like being kicked by five horses at once. A flat surface welcomed her painfully at the bottom.
Jennie gasped for air as she lay on the cold stone floor. Panic overtook her as a suffocating sensation gripped her. With each distressed wheeze, she hungered for oxygen. She rolled flat on her back, desperately willing her lungs to work. An eternity passed before she finally regained her ability to breath normally.
Sash laughed as he knelt down beside her. “By the way,” he said. “Watch out for the stairs.”
Grabbing her arm again, Sash pulled her up. Echoing water could be heard as it dripped steadily from somewhere ahead. The damp, thick air smelled of moist earth. She was pretty sure they were underground now.
“Let’s go,” Sash snapped, and jerked her arm.
Legs wobbly from the fall, Jennie carefully put one foot in front of the other on the downward slope. Her body ached all over. Her knee was wet, like it was bleeding. Jennie wished she were anywhere but here and with anyone other than Sash. If only she had turned left when leaving the apothecary shop, she would be with Travis and Ethan by now.
Pushing regret from her mind, she strained to find an escape route. She couldn’t make anything out in the dark. The air was stuffy, so she assumed they were in some sort of corridor. She didn’t feel any drafts of air indicating there might be another passage connecting to the one they were in. So far, the only way out was back. It was unlikely she could break free of Sash’s grip to run. She couldn’t overpower him, so she would have to think of something else.
A light above a steel door appeared ahead as Sash pulled Jennie around a corner. From the faint glow, Jennie was able to determine they were in a tunnel. Water seeped through cracks in the ancient ceiling and splashed in puddles on the ground. Jennie wondered if the structure was strong enough to hold its own weight, let alone whatever was above them.
When they approached the door, Sash kicked it twice with his boot since both of his hands were occupied. Jennie heard scurrying from the other side of the door. A small window at eye level slid open, then closed so fast that Jennie was unable to glimpse who was inside. The door unlocked, and then swung inward.
Sash threw Jennie inside and her shoulder collided with the metal leg of a table. She gripped her shoulder to ease the pain. The brightness hurt her eyes, and she shielded them with her hand. After a few minutes, her eyes fully adjusted. The stark white room with metal furnishings only amplified the glaring effect of the lights.
“It’s your lucky day, Goggles,” Sash said to someone behind Jennie. “I’ve brought you two presents. One for processing and one for questioning.”
52
“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” Ethan asked.
It was much harder to navigate the streets at night, and the fog was not helping. Travis searched the streets for the visual cues that would let him know he was on the right track. His heart sank as confusion started to take over.
“I’m sure,” Travis replied, hoping the desperation he felt did not carry through in his shaky voice. “Everything looks different at night.”
“So, you’re not sure where you’re going?”
“When I was following Sash earlier today, it was sunny out. And I was coming from another direction.” Travis bit his lip and looked around. “This fog isn’t helping.”
His eyes darted frantically around, pleading with the darkness to yield and show him the way. That’s when Travis saw it, the downward sloping street lined with red brick build
ings.
“This is it,” Travis said, in a hushed tone. “This way.”
Fog enveloped them in an icy embrace as they descended the narrow pathway together. It was nearly impossible to see through he dense mist. He stopped abruptly, and Ethan bumped into him.
“Sorry,” Ethan whispered. “I couldn’t see you.”
“I know,” Travis replied in a whisper. “The fog is too thick. If anyone is waiting down there, we can’t afford for both of us to get caught. We need a plan.”
“What did you have in mind?” Ethan asked.
“We split up.” Travis was trying to think what Jennie would do in this situation. The idea formed in his mind as he spoke. “The door to the shed is at the bottom of this slope. You wait here and I will go down first. If no one is there, I will whistle to let you know it is safe to meet me at the bottom.”
“Let me go first, it could be dangerous,” Ethan protested.
“Sorry, but you don’t know where the door is,” Travis replied. “It has to be me.”
“What if someone is down there? What will you do then?”
Travis thought for a moment. “Then I will shout. Take that as the signal to get away from here. Seek out help from Marlene. She has to help you; she’s your mother after all.”
“No,” Ethan hissed, “I can’t go to her. If someone is down there, you shout, and I will come running to help you.”
“But what if you get caught?” Travis asked, astonished at Ethan’s stubbornness.
“I won’t,” Ethan said. “I’ve fought many monsters before. None of them technically human, but I know how to handle myself.”
Travis saw Ethan holding something shiny in his hand. His knife. “All right,” Travis said, “We’ll do it your way.”
“Don’t worry,” Ethan said. “If anything happens, I have you covered.”
He had to remind himself Ethan had likely fought many times. Dozens probably, maybe even hundreds of times. Travis only knew of one fight Ethan had - with a lemeron. Ethan never did say if he killed the lemeron or not, only that he got away by climbing over the wall.
His stomach lurched with anxiety and he swallowed hard before speaking. “Okay, I’m going down there. Wait for my signal.”
With unsteady footing, Travis crept into the dense fog. After a few steps, he turned to look at Ethan hoping to find encouragement in his eyes, but all he could see was the fog. He turned away and continued down the sloping street, keeping one hand on the wall as his guide. His palms were slippery with sweat, and he wiped his free hand on his pants. In his mind, he pictured Sash waiting for him at the bottom of the slope, wearing the same sneer he had when he took Belle. In his hand was a black, cloth sack ready to pull over Travis’ head.
Travis tried to remain steady as he continued further down street and deeper into the fog. Pushing thoughts of Belle’s abduction from his mind, Travis thought of Ethan and what he had said. If anything happens, I have you covered. Ethan was looking out for Travis. They were doing this together, and he was not alone. No matter what happened, their plan would work. It had to.
Travis wished Sash was waiting for him at the bottom. Travis pulled the riding crop from his pocket so he would be ready. He gripped the handle until he felt the dry skin on his knuckles pull tight. Unconsciously, Travis began running. He raised his hand, and he was ready to strike Sash with the small, fierce whip. The ground leveled out as he neared the bottom. Travis brought the riding crop down hard, ready for the snapping sound when it connected with Sash’s body.
There was no snap. Only a vacant whoosh as the riding crop whipped the air. Travis spun around and swung wildly around him, ready to strike out at Sash hiding in the fog nearby. Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. There was no one there. Travis was alone. Disappointment mixed with relief flooded through him and he let out a sigh.
He turned back around to face the door of the small shed where Sash had taken Belle. Travis nearly had to touch his nose to it to be able to see it through the fog. The door was so weatherworn it looked as grey as the stone wall it was set into. It no longer had the deep brown luster the other entrances in the Commune had. This is it all right, he thought.
Travis licked his lips and formed a tight O shape with his mouth. His whistle shattered the dull silence, and Travis waited. He heard the muted thudding sound from Ethan’s boots as he came jogging down the inclined street. Within moments, Ethan was next to Travis with his knife drawn, ready for anything.
“Everything all right, Travis?”
“All clear. This is where I saw Sash take Belle.” Travis gestured toward the door with his thumb, even though Ethan probably couldn’t see the motion through the fog. “Knowing Jennie, she is probably already inside trying to find Belle. I don’t know what we’ll find when we get in there, though.”
“There is only one way to find out.” Ethan approached the entrance. Travis could hear Ethan’s hands moving across the wood trying to feel for the doorknob. A terrible clatter of metal grinding against metal ripped through the silence of the night. Metal hinges screeched in protest as Ethan pushed it open.
“Do you think anyone heard that?” Travis asked, with concern.
“If they did, I don’t want to wait around for them to investigate,” Ethan said, “Come on.”
Travis stepped past Ethan and entered the room. Ethan followed and the door closed behind them with another horrible wailing of hinges. Any hint of light was extinguished as the door shut with a hollow thud. In the darkness, Travis’ other senses heightened to make up for lack of sight. His nose twitched with the thick, acrid smell of damp earth.
Travis said to Ethan, “I can’t see a thing. Are you able to see?”
“Hang on,” Ethan said.
Travis heard muffled fumbling followed by a scratching sound. A match hissed to life in Ethan’s hand and radiated an orange glow. The little flame seemed as bright as the sun in the dark space. Travis looked around the room trying to find something they could use as a more permanent light source before the match burned out. Only stones laid into rough walls met his searching gaze.
“Look,” Ethan said as he bent down to pick something up. He lifted a taper candle which was burned down to where only a few inches remained. Ethan touched the tip of the match to the wick. It lit without difficulty, and Ethan shook the match out before it burned his fingertips. The candle provided generous light and revealed the room they were standing in contained a single arched opening. They walked cautiously toward it and found a short flight of stone stairs leading to a passageway beneath them.
“Looks like we know which way to go,” Travis said with false courage. He entered the archway first, and they descended into the darkness.
53
Marlene entered her chambers to find the fireplace still blazing with light and warmth. She looked around the room, taking in her comfortable surroundings; the plush bed with soft pillows and thick blankets, the ornate rug, luxurious drapes, and expertly crafted furniture. This was indeed a place just over two hundred years ago she only dreamt of having, never imagining it could be a reality.
Back then, before they found the Commune, she had survived in the wild with her people. They slept on the cold hard ground with sticks and rocks mercilessly stabbing them. When she met Eric, they’d been fortunate enough to sleep in tents – unfortunately, that sparse comfort was short-lived, just like Eric. They were afforded no safety and had sleepless nights for fear of attacks.
Marlene sank into her soft chair by the fire and sighed. Perhaps she had become too comfortable here, too contented by the security the protective wall provided. The wall kept out the evil which lay beyond the Commune; however, it did nothing to protect the Commune from the wickedness that grew slowly within. She felt a pang of guilt for not doing more to protect the people from the Order. If Jennie was correct about the approaching hoard of lemerons, then Marlene had failed the Commune.
She rose from her chair and crossed the room to her wardrobe. She removed the box from the to
p shelf and carried it over to the fireplace. She sat down on the ornate rug in front of the fire, set the container in front of her, and opened it. When had she accumulated so many items? Marlene rummaged through her keepsakes, unable to find what she was looking for. She had to find it – she had to destroy it.
Her search became more desperate as she frantically dug through her possessions with both hands. Something sharp nicked Marlene’s index finger, and she recoiled from the box. Her finger had been slit open, and blood trickled from the breach in her skin. Peering into the box, she saw her sickle. The curved blade that had saved her life so many times had turned against her to draw her own blood.
“Damn thing,” Marlene muttered as she pulled the sickle from the box and tossed it on the chair behind her.
After blotting the blood away with a lace handkerchief she pulled from her robe pocket, Marlene resumed her search. She pulled items from the box and tossed them on the floor. Finally, she found the stack of pages bound together with string at the bottom of the box. The edges were smooth except on one side where she tore them from her journal. The accounts written here were too private and for her only.
Marlene held the brittle pages gingerly in her hand and looked at her faded handwriting. How foolish she’d been to write down her innermost thoughts and feelings. She couldn’t bring herself to untie the string and read the narrative of her more recent past. It was too painful. She thought about the man she married in secret, about her son, Ethan, who she had to let go, and the evil taking root within the Commune. The pages held secrets she wanted no one to know – she could have done more for the Commune, but she hadn’t. And these pages revealed too much about that.
Marlene tossed the bundle into the fireplace. The fire gratefully accepted her offering and flared as yellow flames licked at the edges of the vellum pages. The string instantly singed and glowed red with heat. It snapped, and the bundle came undone. The pages slid apart from each other and spread in the fire. Marlene glimpsed words and sentence fragments before the paper curled into ash, forever erasing her tangible thoughts.
