Apocalypse For Realz

by Bella Street

  Fiona came to his side, her touch soft, her eyes hard. “It's because you're sick. You're in the last stages of leukemia. Nobody expects you to be running this place at all.”

  Fenn looked down at his girlfriend with tired eyes. “Who else is there?”

  Her grip on his arm tightened. “You know who.”

  “You need to be focused on the baby.”

  Her pleading look dissolved into one of ire. “Maybe a baby isn't the priority right now.”

  “Fiona, I don't want to hear you talk like that.”

  She dropped his arm and stomped back to the couch. “I'm not going to be the homey, doting mother you think I'll be.”

  Fenn exhaled a ragged breath. “I just want you to be you. And right now, that includes you taking care of yourself and our child.” Before she could say anything more, he left the residence and headed for the psychiatric section of the compound.

  He had hoped that Fiona would bond with the baby in her womb, but so far, she seemed to resent the intrusion into her life. It was early yet. Maybe in time, when she felt movement, she'd soften a little. He needed her focus to shift from what she really wanted, which was to run the compound. Admittedly she did it better, even if her methods were a bit tyrannical.

  Fenn was almost disappointed when he reached the psychiatric section. He didn't know how much longer he could make these trips considering how quickly his strength was deteriorating, but he'd hoped an extra long walk would give some perspective. So far he could only see the blinding glare of his own failure. At least his nose bleed seemed to be under control.

  He raised his hand to knock on Gareth's door, then paused. Gareth was obviously the leader of the group—or had been before Trent had stolen Seffy's heart. This made the two at odds with one another, a fact which Gareth seemed to have the most trouble dealing with. Which meant talking to him might not be the best course of action at the moment.

  Fenn went to Lani's room instead and knocked. The brunette opened the door, her usually bright blue eyes now red-rimmed. She silently ushered him inside. He found Addison hunched on the edge of the bed, looking just as miserable.

  “Have you heard from Seffy?” Lani asked after closing the door behind him.

  Fenn sank onto the chair she pulled out for him, inwardly cursing his frailty. He sighed, knowing the girls wouldn't like his response. “She stayed in the surgery last night, with the body.”

  No one spoke for a moment.

  “Alone?” Addison finally gasped, her green eyes wide.

  He nodded. “I assumed she'd be with you, so I didn't follow up after I left.”

  Lani glanced at Addison, equally horrified. “She said she wanted to be alone in her room, and...well, we wanted to respect her wishes.”

  “We should've stayed with her,” Addison said in a harsh voice. “God, how ghoulish to be with a corpse all night.”

  Lani began to sob. “Don't say it like that! He was her husband!”

  Fenn pressed his hands together. “I think she needed the time to say goodbye.”

  “Does she know it's goodbye?” Addison said. “What if she's in denial as usual?”

  He averted his gaze when he remembered Seffy's worry that Trent was cold. “Regardless, we'll be having a private service this afternoon and I need your help.”

  “What can we do?” Lani asked, obviously eager to do something.

  “There will need to be clothes for the...body.”

  “No cremation?”

  He shook his head at Addison. “We do traditional burials. There's an area set aside beyond the fields. And the arrangements have been set in motion.”

  “What about flowers and music?”

  “She may want to sing,” he said.

  “Seffy doesn't sing anymore,” Addison said, sending him a dark look.

  Fenn's heart felt like lead. “She...sang for him this morning.”

  Lani pressed her fingers to her lips, apparently trying to ward off a new bout of tears, and failing. “That's so precious,” she said between sobs. “It's been so long. Years and years.”

  Addison didn't seem convinced. “What song did she sing?”

  Fenn shook his head. “I didn't recognize it.”

  Lani wiped her face and took a deep breath, then hummed a few bars. “Was that it?”

  He blinked, feeling a wave of chills spreading up his arms. How had she guessed? “Yes,” he said quietly. “That's the one.”

  Lani and Addison exchanged surprised glances.

  Fenn got to his feet. “So would you let Gareth and the others know? Three o'clock in the chapel where Seffy and Trent were...”

  “Married,” Addison finished grimly.

  Lani nodded, still wiping away tears. “Do I talk to the same lady who helped with the wedding?”

  “Yes.” He swallowed. “And if you could make sure to let Seffy know what's happening. If you have any problems, call me.” He shook his head. “On second thought, call Olga. She's with her now.”

  “We'll take care of all the service arrangements,” Lani said. “Will you be...speaking?”

  “Yes.”

  “What will happen to Jared?” Addison's tone was devoid of mercy.

  He pulled in an ineffectual breath. “That will require a bit more dexterity. If we remand him to the authorities, it necessitates a thorough investigation into all of you, who technically have no background here.” And who never belonged here in the first place.

  “Maybe the snake will meet with an unfortunate accident.”

  Fenn noticed the cold look in Addison's eyes and couldn't disagree with her. “He's under armed guard and will be dealt with at some point. For now, we need to focus on Seffy and the funeral. We're not set up for long...periods between death and burial.”

  The girls nodded their understanding. Fenn thanked them and left. During the long walk back, he wondered how things had spun so violently out of control.

  Turning back the clock had once seemed the answer to everything.

  Chapter Three

  Gareth looked up from where he sat in the pew as Seffy walked by, flanked by Olga on one side and the girls on the other. They sat in the front row, mere feet from the plain, closed casket that now dominated the small chapel. Lani glanced back at him, then whispered something to Addison.

  A moment later, she slipped into the pew next to him, putting her hand on his arm. “Why are you sitting back here?”

  Gareth considered his answer, then decided only the truth would do. “I'd like to stay out of Seffy's line of sight. She doesn't want to see me right now.”

  Lani bit her lip but didn't disagree. “I'll stay with you then. You shouldn't be alone.” She shuddered. “Not like Seffy was with the body all night.”

  “What?” he hissed, horrified. “I thought you girls stayed with her.”

  Lani shook her head sadly. “We tried but she wanted to be alone. We didn't think she'd do that.”

  “Great. She'll be psychotic after this.”

  “Shh. Don't talk like that. We will be here to help her through the stages of grief. Right now she's in shock, so her actions might not make much sense to us. She just needs our support.”

  “Maybe if she'd accepted our support earlier, none of this would've happened.”

  Lani shook her head. “No one could've foreseen Jared doing what he did.”

  Gareth didn't mention he was thinking more along the lines of Trent ever being a factor in Seffy's life. “Speaking of the murderer, are his female flunkies here?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “They're in the back. Addy and I got in a fight about whether or not to let them come. She didn't want to, I did. Basically, Malone threatened them with bodily harm if they disrupted the service in any way.”

  Gareth glanced down at Lani and wondered about her compound boyfriend. “How is Malone taking all of this?”

  She sniffed into a wad of tissue. “He's more furious and icier than I've ever seen him. He'll never forgive himself for not realizing Jared h
ad stolen his gun. He hasn't looked at me since.”

  Gareth thought of the Christmas party where they'd all been drinking. Apparently the ex-henchman hadn't noticed the weasely Jared slipping the Glock from the Malone's holster.

  Lani shook her head. “He's like a man possessed in wanting to get to the bottom of what happened. He won't remember I exist until he does.”

  Gareth felt bad for Lani, although he didn't understand her attraction to the compound security guard. “Well, maybe he'll figure out what the hell is going on around here. We sure haven't.” The weight of his own failure pulled at the edges of his anger. He'd been wrapped up in his own troubles, neglecting to find everyone a way back to 2006. “Who's going to perform the service today?”

  “Fenn. I don't know how he'll do though. He's pretty torn up.”

  “What does he care? He and his villainous girlfriend only brought us twenty-six years into the past and ruined our lives. Poor, poor guy.”

  She frowned, obviously not approving of his mocking tone. “Maybe he was affected by hearing Seffy sing.”

  Gareth's eyes widened as the hair sprang up from his skin. “What?”

  Lani nodded. “She sang a song from Zannytu even.”

  He mashed his lips together in disbelief. A memory crystallized in his brain of her singing those silly songs in high school, her voice naked with longing and angst, yet so pure and perfect. But then came the day she never sang another song again. “Now I really know she's psychotic.”

  “Shh. It's about to begin.”

  Gareth looked over to see the leader of Fugere walk to the front of the chapel. He wore a suit and tie, his expression crimped, made worse by the dark shadows under his eyes and cheekbones. The man looked ill. He stood stiffly, holding a small Bible as he turned to face everyone, and seemed to have difficulty finding words for several minutes.

  Gareth didn't envy what he had to do. And yet he'd obviously presided over compound funerals before. How many had there been? How many lost souls came here looking for a refuge, but found only death?

  “Thank you for gathering here today as we grieve the loss of Trent Ellison. I didn't know Trent long, but I learned he was a man of purpose and devotion, especially in regards to his wife, Seffy.”

  Gareth glanced at Seffy's profile. She stared straight ahead, dry-eyed and rigid—as if frozen in time.

  “He was taken from us too soon and his loss will be felt keenly by those who knew him.” He cleared his throat. “Would anyone like to say a few words?”

  An awkward silence stretched throughout the room as no one responded, though quiet sobs soon followed—except for Seffy who didn't make a sound.

  What did Fenn expect? Half of the people here couldn't stand Trent, and for the few who could—his death was too fresh, the emotions too raw. However Fenn didn't seem to notice the paradox. He surveyed the room, then opened his Bible.

  “The book of Ecclesiastes speaks to us in a moment like this. 'For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance; a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; a time to seek, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.'”

  “Time.”

  Gareth swiveled his gaze toward Seffy, hardly able to believe she'd spoken aloud.

  She got to her feet, hands clenched. “What if it wasn't enough?”

  “No,” he said after an agonizing pause, his expression unable to hide some inner torment. “You didn't have enough time with him.”

  “Isn't that ironic considering you're the one that brought us into the past?”

  Addison sucked in a breath. Olga got up and put her arm around Seffy.

  But she didn't seem to notice them. “So that means you control time, right?”

  Fenn opened his mouth to speak, his face pale. He shook his head.

  “And yet here we are.”

  “Seffy,” he whispered. “I am so sorry...” His words trailed away as she stood.

  She appeared diminished—disconnected from the present—but some banked emotion burned in her eyes and her lips began to tremble.

  Gareth clenched his hands in his lap, his heart pounding hard. This is the point Trent brought her to. This is what he made. And still she grieves.

  Addison got up and urged her to sit back down. Seffy did so without resistance, the fight drained from her as she slumped against the pew.

  Relief flooded through him as he remembered Addison's Carrie comment. Seffy's anguish, coupled with the residual effects of psychotic drugs, well, it was better if she had her breakdown in private. Then again, she should've been turning to him in her time of need.

  Gareth heard a broken sob, but wasn't sure which of the girls it came from. He clenched his jaw, wishing he knew how to respond, furious he'd been placed in this situation of persona non grata. It should've been his arms Seffy sought, his shoulder to cry on. But all that had been poisoned by the man who was gone.

  Fenn took several minutes to compose himself. Finally he looked up, his knuckles white as he grasped the Bible. “There will be an interrment outside in half an hour. We'll continue the service there.”

  He turned and left the room, making Gareth wonder if the abrupt departure had been part of the original agenda. He glanced over at Seffy. She sat like a statue as the others stood and looked around in some confusion. He wondered whether to approach her, then decided against it. His presence would only upset her more.

  The notion bit deep and hard.

  Sniffling, Lani rose to her feet and tugged on his arm. He got up and saw Malone impatiently motioning people to follow him.

  “Everyone needs to grab a coat because it's snowing outside,” he said in his rough voice.

  Gareth couldn't believe the mockery of the statement. The last time there had been a declaration of snow, the girls had begged to be taken outside to see the flakes. All the girls except Seffy. She had all she'd needed in the arms of her husband. And look how that ended.

  Anger swelled in Gareth's gut. It didn't matter what she said about their time together not being enough. She was better off without Trent.

  Eventually she'd figure that out.

  It took at least twenty minutes for everyone to get their coats and assemble at the compound exit leading to the cemetery. He hadn't known there was one. But at the rate people died in this so-called refuge, one was definitely needed.

  With Malone leading the way, followed by Seffy, Addison, and Olga, they walked out into a delicate snowstorm falling from the undulating purplish-pink sky. It was beautiful, in an otherworldly, wrong-worldly way—like cheap sci-fi CGI in a B movie. Only scarier.

  He and Lani hung back, following the others, watching the little snowy puffs each footstep made. The air seemed almost warm—which was probably the reason only a few inches covered the ground.

  Soon, they were all gathered in front of a freshly dug grave—filling quickly with flakes—next to the casket on a draped stand. A bulldozer lurked to one side, where the workers hunkered down in the cab, waiting to finish the job.

  How many times had they presided over a burial? Gareth glanced over the area and saw only a smattering of flat grave markers. Why did the residents stay here in the first place? What did Fugere offer them the outside world couldn't? Especially when the end result was the same.

  Fenn cleared his throat, spoke a few generic words about commending Trent's body to rest, then nodded to the workers. They came over and lowered the casket into the ground.

  Gareth watched Seffy as her attention followed the casket. She began to breath heavily, great plumes
of air coiling in front of her. She swallowed hard, her expression bleak as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing—as if she'd launch herself into the hole after him if it weren't for Addison and Olga each holding an arm.

  During a brief prayer led by Fenn, her gaze remained on the casket, the look in her eyes growing deader with each passing second.

  When the prayer ended, Olga handed her a purple flower. Seffy stared at for a long time. She brought it to her nose, which struck Gareth as odd since the flower was obviously dried out.

  “It's from her wedding bouquet,” Lani whispered beside him, tears tracking down her cheeks.

  He'd never noticed the flowers at Seffy's wedding. He'd been too busy mentally damning her and her sham ceremony with Trent.

  God, what had she seen in him? Fury shook him once again. Seffy was eating her heart out over a piece of trash. The question was, how long before she realized it?

  As if discerning his thoughts, she glanced over at him. A brief flash of defiance flared in her gaze. Then she dropped the flower into the grave and turned away.

  Fenn remained, as one by one, the group left the grave, and the workers prepared to fill in the void.

  ***

  There was no quaint reception, no mingling of bereaved guests sharing fond remembrances of the deceased.

  Olga went back to her room after hugging Seffy for a long time. Eva and Cynthia slunk back to their rooms, knowing no one wanted them around—they being friends with the murderer and all. Gareth followed Addison and Lani to his room.

  He sat with one hip perched on the edge of the desk, watching Addison scowl at her hands from where she sat on the tan, ratty sofa in the beige, soulless room.

  The redhead had been wound up of late—well, more wound up than usual. She'd become more critical of him than supportive, and he sensed her anger toward him. But he didn't have a clue why. He hadn't changed. So she must be the one with the bee in her bonnet.

  Lani slipped in the door, dried tears still visible on her face. She glanced up at him. “She's resting now.”