“An asylum? That’s her legacy to the world?”
“Unfortunately, yes. The asylums were named for St. Mary Magdalene, the patroness of ‘wayward women.’”
“What do you mean wayward women?”
“Prostitutes. Magdalene asylums were established to rescue women from prostitution and rehabilitate them to enter society.”
Rehabilitation. Why did that remind her so much of the program her parents threatened to send her to? Weren’t they going to enroll her in a program to rehabilitate sex victims? But I’m not a sex victim, she vehemently thought. I was only stripping to get by.
“What happened in these asylums?”
“Well, they weren’t pleasant by any stretch of the imagination. Prostitutes were called ‘children’ and required to address the nuns as ‘mother.’ In the beginning, the Magdalene asylums provided shelter for women seeking refuge from disease, prison, abusive husbands, and poverty. They even housed children born out of wedlock. Unfortunately, these institutions were rife with psychological, sexual, and physical abuse.
“By the twentieth century, the asylums began to operate as workhouses to finance church operations. The women worked long hours without pay. Unfortunately, my ancestors profited from these laundries at the expense of women and children’s labor. Coupled with the abuse, my family went down in history as slavers—and that comes closer to the truth than I care to admit. My ancestors fled to a remote corner of Czechoslovakia where they managed to stew in the profits of their crimes, throwing lavish parties and dappling in politics and religion. The Magdalene Midnight Mission is the last remaining laundry in Europe.”
“That’s where my parents were sending me!” Vivian exclaimed, retreating from Lady Danica’s harsh stare.
“What?”
“Yes! I remember them talking about that place!”
For the longest time, Camilla didn’t dare speak.
“You probably did the right thing by running away. The laundry is set up like a prison… not to mention the ongoing abuse.” Vivian gazed solemnly at the portrait of Lady Danica, the woman responsible for industrializing abuse.
“Do you think my parents knew?”
“About the abuse?” Camilla said. “Not likely. The scandals tend to be covered up.”
“Oh, lovely.”
“I almost ended up in a Magdalene asylum myself. My birth threatened my father’s marriage—having me out of wedlock and all. My father lacked the moral fiber Lady Danica possessed. I suppose I’m grateful for that. If not for his infidelity, I wouldn’t exist. My father left me with my uncle to be raised in secret. Since then, I’ve made it my mission to end the tyranny of these asylums by exposing the abuse inside. Only the Magdalene Midnight Mission remains.”
“You still feel loyalty to your family despite their crimes?”
“I hope to restore honor to my family. The last generation was consumed in greed and religious zealotry. I want to eventually renovate this manor and set up a charity for women and children victimized by these asylums.”
“You may want to start with the master bedroom.” Camilla spun toward her.
“Why? What happened?”
“I may have torn the room apart looking for my gun,” she replied sheepishly.
“Better there than the cellar, I suppose. I had an unfortunate encounter with some rats the other night. I think you stirred them up when you were stealing my wine.”
Camilla led her into the den furnished with regal suits of armor, hunting trophies, and Victorian head dresses. Of course, no chamber would be complete without esoteric elements of cyberpunk, including a throne that dangled from the ceiling by mechanical cables and tubes. It vaguely resembled a leather seashell perfectly sculpted to mold with the occupant’s spine.
Camilla nodded at the Vesely coat of arms above the forlorn fireplace; a knight helmet and a flourishing, red flag inlaid with a white cross. Vivian studied the Latin words neatly inscribed below.
Sub hoc signo vinces
“What does that mean?”
“It’s the family motto: Under this sign we shall conquer.”
“A touch of megalomania in the bloodline?” she chuckled, her eyes dancing across an array of blades that once cut a bloody swath across Europe.
“It was originally a war cry from the fourteenth century. It’s actually not that unusual. Many European families had a slogan.”
“My family has a slogan too.”
“What?”
“Failure is not an option.”
“Remind me how lucky I am not to have parents.”
“It’s not so bad,” she said. “They’ve always pushed me to do my best. Maybe they pile all their hopes on me because I’m their only child. I don’t have any brothers or sisters.”
“I couldn’t tell you whether I had any siblings or not. I never had the chance to meet my real mother. I imagine my father locked her up in one of the laundries to keep her silent.”
Vivian looked absently into the fireplace, as if she could see her future rising from the ashes.
“To be honest, that may be what is driving me to go through with this crazy investigation and put myself in so much danger.”
“You’ve lost me. What is?”
“My fear of failure. From where I stand, I haven’t amounted to anything yet. I don’t have a job and I haven’t graduated. The idea that I can’t alter my future terrifies me. What if I’m never accepted into the nursing program? What if I spend the rest of my life slaving away in a grocery store, fighting for every dollar just to stay alive?”
She shook her head in despair, overwhelmed by a society that inevitably culminated in rejection. She had been rejected by employers, rejected by the nursing program, and rejected by her own flesh and blood. Nikolai was the only one who didn’t outright throw her away.
Life could be distilled into an epic game of survival, where the streets and employment offices comprised the battlegrounds. Millions were lining the streets around the world, failing to serve any basic purpose, condemned to beg, steal, or sell their bodies if only to survive another day.
She need only glance down an alley to behold her future if she failed. She unraveled as Camilla’s feathery touch fell on her shoulder.
“I’ve only just met you, Vivian, but you don’t strike me as the kind of woman who settles for less. Instead of asking ‘what if,’ you should be asking yourself, ‘what now?’”
“Will you help me?” Vivian yelped, spinning toward her with frantic eyes. “I don’t want to do this all by myself anymore. You know more about the disappearances than I do. Nikolai isn’t telling me everything.”
Camilla regarded her with wonder.
“You want my help? I—well—”
“Please, Camilla! If we work together, I can be free of Nikolai, and you can have first shot at this story! Isn’t that what you want?”
“I never said—look, Vivian, before I agree to anything, I need to know what’s happening to these women. I don’t want to end up like them.”
Vivian sighed, crossing her arms in defeat.
“I can’t tell you right now. There’s too much at stake if I just blurt it out. I need to know you’re willing to stay by my side no matter what happens.”
“They’re being murdered, aren’t they?”
Vivian’s head snapped up.
“Why else would a detective be extorting you for help? I can’t just follow you blindly into hell, Vivian. I need to know what’s happening.”
Vivian brooded by the stairs without a peep. How could she possibly whet this girl’s appetite?
“If you accompany me to the outskirts, I’ll tell you everything you want to know. I promise.”
Camilla begrudgingly turned her back on her. The muscles in her legs tensed, betraying the slightest impulse to barge out the door. She could disappear down the street any second, but Vivian knew all the alleys if she dared flee.
“Okay…” Vivian’s heart skipped a beat. “I’ll help you.”
/>
“You really mean it?”
“I’ll be honest… When I first found you sleeping upstairs, I thought you were just a drunken vagrant. I was going to drag you out with my bare hands and toss you in the streets. Now that I understand the position you’re in, I feel like there’s no escaping this.
“I want to know what’s happening to these missing women, and I can relate to what you’re going through. I never really had a home of my own… So you’re welcome to stay here as long as you want.”
Camilla wasn’t even spared a chance to catch her breath. All of a sudden, she was pulled into a stifling hug. Her surprise was only compounded by Vivian’s outlandish strength.
“Thanks, Camilla.”
She managed a smile even with her face pressed against Vivian’s tattoo-laden shoulder. When she squirmed away, she was surprised by Vivian’s scowl. Her eyes were rimmed with heavy concern.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m going to take you somewhere called Grigorshire Palace. You’ll find your answers there. But before we go, I need to take care of something. I want to see my childhood home… in the outskirts. Will you accompany me?”
“You used to live in the outskirts?”
“Unfortunately, yes. We were driven out by the incident.”
“You survived the riots…?” The words hung in the air like a tainted electric charge, indicting Vivian of being somewhere she did not belong. Yet, Camilla’s voice was honeyed with sympathy. Vivian nodded.
“I’ve been trying to find some clarity about the situation ever since.”
“This thing you have to show me… Is it what’s happening to these women?”
She nodded again.
“So what do we do now?”
“I need to return to the outskirts. There’s something waiting for me there.”
SEVEN
The lights winked on again and Vivian vanished from view.
The scarcely lit metro tunnels were streaked in graffiti like the primitive cave paintings of its lesser denizens. Camilla traced her fingers over abstract symbols that once held meaning to the nomadic artists. Perhaps strangest of all were the footsteps ascending from the walls all the way to the ceiling.
Another screech above her head heralded the oncoming darkness, and a dozen lights were extinguished.
The north entrance to the metro had been untouched for decades. She couldn’t imagine a time when this portion ever yielded to passengers seeking safe passage.
“So this dope fiend named Joakim,” Camilla murmured, “told you this is an easier way to the outskirts?”
“Easier than dodging trains on the rails. And should you ever meet Joakim, I doubt he would appreciate being labeled a dope fiend.”
“Sorry, I meant an entrepreneur running a pharmacy out of the sewers.”
Camilla and Vivian had set out for Nádraži Metro when the first tide of morning sun lapped against the streets. Not eager to re-enact her journey through the previous tunnels, Vivian suggested a secret entrance Joakim revealed to her.
The fact that it was long abandoned and adorned in chains must have conspicuously slipped his mind, although Vivian suspected the truth was far more devious. Joakim struck her as the type who enjoyed vexing his prey.
“He’s not so bad once you get to know him,” Vivian grinned. “Maybe you two can hook up over some opium.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“Speaking of guys with dark vices, what do you know about Krista’s boyfriend?”
Camilla burst into laughter.
“You expect me to give up information when you don’t completely trust me? You’re out of your mind, Vivian.”
“You’re just beginning to figure that out?”
The transit system sprawled before them, doused in the ink of shadows. Ticket booths dotted the abandoned metal landscape. The scream of shattering glass made Camilla jump, and she spun to see Vivian crawling through a ticket booth window. She didn’t even nurse the fresh bruise painted on her elbow. Camilla watched with amusement as she rummaged hungrily through the cash register.
“What do you expect to find there?” Vivian stopped abruptly. “When you return home, what do you expect to find?”
Vivian stuffed a few coins in her pocket, barely enough to buy a candy bar.
“Closure.” She slammed the cash register shut with finality. Breaking off a few more chinks of glass from the window, she crawled out.
“I remember the first time I set foot in Vesely Manor,” Camilla said. “I thought it would help me understand why everything happened—if God meant for this to happen. If only that were the case. After a few minutes inside the manor, I broke down crying. I felt like a little girl again, disinherited by my stupid father. He never tucked me into bed, or fed me when I was sick, or hugged me on Christmas morning. He was never there when I celebrated my birthday. Instead, he grew fat and lazy in his lavish manor.
“The night I found you was the first time I returned since that day. Who would have thought I would find you in my father’s bed? I shouldn’t be surprised, though. Obviously, it’s not the first time a woman other than his wife laid there.”
Vivian screeched to a halt.
“So it’s pointless for me to return home? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No. I’m just giving you fair warning. You may not like what you see when you walk through that door.”
Before Vivian’s eyes, something reared up from the rails behind Camilla. It pounced on her, twisting her arm in a deadly vice. She screamed as her eyes took in a brutish man a full head taller than both of them. Adrenaline blazed through Vivian’s veins when she saw his face, a caricature of flesh devoured in tattoos.
“What are you two doing down here?” he bellowed.
“Let her go now!” Vivian brandished her gun. He only wrenched Camilla closer to his chest, using her as a human shield.
Camilla scratched at the arm coiled around her neck like a hairy python. She couldn’t breathe with his weight pressing down on her windpipe.
Vivian fingered the trigger, torn between firing point blank and laying down her arms. Camilla’s eyes rounded when she saw Vivian lift the gun with a deadened look on her face.
“Vivian!” Joakim hurled over the electric rails toward her. “What are you doing here? Who is that with you?”
“Her name is Camilla and she’s a friend! What’s going on?” He brushed past her, focused squarely on the tattooed brute.
“Vaclav, release her!” When he didn’t obey, Joakim wrenched the girl away and smacked Vaclav across the face.
Camilla fell to the rails with an anguished grunt.
“I told you to release her! Now continue the search before I kick your ass all the way down the metro. Notify me immediately if you find him!”
“What’s going on?” Vivian roared. “Joakim?” He spun toward her with eyes as cold as ice.
“Mikhael is missing.” Something shifted behind Vivian, and she saw another gangster toting a submachine gun. “He wandered into the sewers and hasn’t returned since. He heard the voice of a woman crying out and thought it was his mother. I’ve already dispatched several of my men to retrieve him, but it’s a goddamned maze.”
“Wasn’t anyone watching him?”
“It’s not as easy as you think, Vivian. We don’t stick him in a corner and babysit the boy. He’s free to come and go as he pleases. But he’s never gone for very long. He’s been missing for nearly a day now.”
“Are you sure he’s lost in the sewers?” He nodded vigorously, running a hand through his unkempt hair. The motion exposed several gnarled scars underneath, glowing angrily against his skin. Vivian almost swallowed her tongue in revulsion.
“It’s the only place we haven’t completely searched.”
“Which way to the sewers?” she asked after a strangled pause. They followed his stare down a side tunnel scarred with circular rings.
“After the earthquake, portions of Line C slipped into the s
ewers,” he murmured, his mind careening to the moment of disaster. “I will never forget the sound of metal grating against flesh, the flames boiling in the tunnels…” He shook his head. “I’m not even sure how Mikhael survived. He was trapped under several bodies as flames rolled through the tunnels. I managed to save his soul once, but what if I fail this time? What if he’s lost to the sewers?”
“Mikhael’s going to be okay. He helped me navigate the tunnels all by himself.”
Joakim crumpled by the rails, his eyes sunken with despair.
“We’re not leaving until we find him,” Vivian said, turning to Camilla.
“We’re going into the sewers?”
“Mikhael’s just a little kid. He could be hopelessly lost down there.”
“Okay, fine, I’ll tag along. Just don’t get us lost, too.”
“You know damn well I can’t make that promise.” Vivian seized Joakim by the shoulder and shook him. “Keep up the search. I’ll take my chances in the sewers and look for Mikhael.”
“Bless you, Vivian. You have no idea how much this means to me. That boy is my son—I don’t care if we aren’t tied by blood! If you can’t find him, I don’t know what—”
“I will find him.” Joakim didn’t dispute the finality in her voice. He simply nodded.
“Thank you.”
“Now get up, for Mikhael’s sake, and keep looking. You won’t be any help to him sitting on your ass.”
“Just a moment. Let me collect myself.”
Steeling herself for the abominations ahead, Vivian marched toward the sewers. She wouldn’t dare voice the fears bouncing around in her head, but she also reserved serious doubts about Mikhael’s fate. Joakim was already clinging to a sliver a hope, and her anxieties would only drive him over the edge.
Joakim’s voice rang out behind her.
“Vivian, before you go… Rats will be the least of your concerns in the sewers. You would be wise to steer clear of the scavengers.”
“Scavengers? Like animals?” Camilla asked.
“You might say they are animals, but they look just like you and me. There are men who even we consider outcasts. They are so incompatible with society that they find asylum in the sewers, in places no one would dream of inhabiting. They wouldn’t think twice about … well…”
Red Widow (Vivian Xu, Book 1) Page 9
