by Sean Platt
No, that’s not it.
You know what happened.
His inner voice had obviously figured out something his conscious mind hadn’t yet assembled. He felt like he should know why they ran, but was coming up empty. He tried to think back on the moment, and then he heard the sound of something wet.
He rose to his feet, carefully, his head still throbbing, and still feeling waves of vertigo.
Where is that sound coming from? The toilet?
He grabbed the flashlight and cast its beam into the bowl, where he saw his vomit, black and thick, alive with inch-long writhing things, like worms or maggots. There had to be hundreds, if not a thousand, in the bowl.
Jesus, what are those?!
Were those in me?
Then the light caught movement, something racing across his left arm.
No, not on it, but in it, just beneath the skin.
What the hell was that?
He thought he was seeing things, floaters in his eyes, shadows, something! But when he cast the light fully on his forearm, he saw the shapes writhing beneath his flesh. Worms, just like in the toilet.
He stared in disbelief, revulsion growing, and threatening to make him return to the toilet to vomit up whatever else was in him.
What is happening to me?
His mind began to pull at the thread of his question: the weird dreams he’d been having where he was running with the creatures, like a pack of animals; the weird buzzing sounds; how he’d healed so quickly from wounds that should have laid him up for weeks if not killed him; how the creatures turned tail when he thought at them to go.
The answer unspooled before his mind’s eye, leading him back to a sickening conclusion.
He was infected.
Fifty-Nine
Mary Olson
Kingsland, Alabama
The Sanctuary
March 27
4:01 p.m.
Paola was nestled deep into her mother’s chest, sobbing, but Mary petted her head and pushed her deeper. “It’s okay,” she soothed, “We’ll figure this out.”
Paola tried to make words, but couldn’t. Through fresh tears, she finally confessed. “I’m scared, Mom.”
“I know, honey, I know.”
“Do you think Desmond’s okay? What do you think they’ll do to him? Will they throw him in the box, like they did to Rebecca?”
Mary held her tighter. “Everything is gonna be okay. I’m sure Desmond is fine. The situation was getting out of hand, and they had to disarm him. Things were confusing. People didn’t know what Luca could do, because they hadn’t seen it. Desmond had a gun, so he looked like the aggressor. That Boricio guy was only trying to help. And no, I don’t think they’ll throw him in the box, not at all. I think they’ll ask him a few questions. Then he’ll be back with us, telling us his stories.”
Of course, Mary didn’t believe a word that left her mouth. While she hated lying to Paola, it was better than the alternative. She had no clue whom to trust, which was partly why she shuddered when Paola said, “Do you think there’s anything John can do to help?”
“I’m not sure,” Mary said, “but I’ll find out right now.”
She hated the question, but hated her answer even more. Mary told Paola she’d be right back, then left to go find John. She found him talking to a pair of Brothers. She called his name, and he turned to face her. “I’m so sorry about what’s happened, Mary.”
“Does that mean you know what happened?”
John said, “You mean what’s happening now, or what happened a few minutes back when our buddy Desmond was waving a gun in the air, a gun he shouldn’t have had? Brother Rei will want to know where it came from. Safety is the most important consideration for everyone at The Sanctuary, after all.”
“Yes,” Mary agreed, “especially for Desmond right now. I’m sure that after what happened to Rebecca, turning up ice-blue in a box, and Carl, who no one has seen for days, you can appreciate my concern.”
John’s face softened, though it was closer to the jelly of missing emotion she’d seen since arriving at The Sanctuary, rather than the simmering sorrow she’d known during their time at the Drury Inn.
“I need to know what you know, John. Please, I deserve it. You know that’s true.”
“I’m really sorry, Mary, but I really, truly don’t know anything. Desmond is with Brother Rei right now, probably getting questioned. I promise I’ll do everything in my power to make sure Desmond’s punishment isn’t harsh. He was only acting to save the child, after all. Everyone could see that.”
Mary said thank you, then turned her back to John. She wanted to ask if she could see Rebecca, but didn’t want to push it. She hadn’t seen her, or her mother, Sarah, since the incident. Mary wanted to go check on them, make sure the girl was okay, but wasn’t sure where they were. They may have been in the women’s house being tended to by Angela, a former nursing student who lived at The Sanctuary. Wherever they were, it was surely under guard.
Mary was on her way back to Paola, but decided to find Linc instead. He may have grown distant, but Mary understood why. He’d grown quickly accustomed to life at The Sanctuary; that didn’t mean he would turn his back on any of them, especially since Desmond and Luca were being held, both because they were trying to save a little girl. Linc had tried to intervene in his own way, after all.
She found Linc standing guard at the front gate, alone.
Linc almost seemed like he’d been expecting her.
Mary spilled her guts, but kept her tears inside.
Linc listened to everything, then said, “I don’t know much right now, other than Desmond and Luca are with Carl in the hole.”
“The hole? When will they get out? Are they okay?”
“Sorry,” he shook his head. “I don’t know. And I can’t really ask. None of the Brothers I talk to knows a thing, and it’s not like I can ask Rei. He definitely doesn’t trust me. He sees me as one of you. No offense.” He met Mary’s eyes.
“None taken,” she said.
Linc smiled, then continued. “At best, he thinks of me as no better than John, and I don’t think that’s any help to you at all.”
“No better than John?” Mary said, “I thought John was up there with The Prophet at the top of the chain of command.”
“Exactly,” Linc said. “John has the ear of The Prophet, and his trust. Rei doesn’t like it.” Linc lowered his voice to a whisper and stepped closer to Mary. “That’s just one of the things that makes the guy so dangerous. Rei’s totally out of control, Mary. If he’s not put under control, and soon, we’re all gonna pay. The Prophet is strict, sure, but at least he kept everyone safe. Strict as he was, he’d never allow a little kid to die. Rei said it was God’s Will, but if you ask me, we sure as hell didn’t leave God with much of a choice.”
Linc looked around to check for any extra sets of ears before he continued. “Something’s happening, Mary. And it’s happening quick. I think Rei is planning something, maybe has been for a while. And I’m not sure whom I can trust, other than you all.”
“What are you saying?” Mary asked, a new thundercloud of dread rolling into her mind.
“I’m saying I don’t think it’s a coincidence that The Prophet has gone sick just after our arrival. I think we upset the apple cart and pushed Rei to speed up some plans he’s got brewing.”
“What’s wrong with The Prophet?” Mary asked. “Do you know?”
Linc shook his head. “No idea, but Brother Stephan said he was making some awful terrible sounds while he was on watch.”
“What sort of sounds?”
“Loud, like he was choking on something. But they stopped right before Brother Stephan was about to head in. Brother Stephan knocked on the door and asked if The Prophet was okay, and he said yes, so he didn’t think much of it until the next day. Brother Rei has been the only person in or out of the room, lately. Not even Brother John has been in.”
“I thought John was The Prophe
t’s right hand,” Mary said.
“Yeah, but he’s been weird, lately. Like he’s not even paying attention anymore. Rei’s planning a revolution right under his nose, and he’s not batting an eyelash.”
“You think he’s in on it? John and Rei are tight, right?”
“I don’t know what to think,” Linc said.
“So, they’re plotting a revolution?”
Linc nodded. “Yeah, from what I gather, they had it planned before we arrived. Us coming here derailed them a bit, forced them to regroup, maybe. But I also think it helped speed the plan up. It’s happening, sure as shit. I’m worried we’re in the middle. Been worried since the whole thing with Will went down. Nothing’s felt right since.”
“How many do you think Rei has on his side?”
“Not too sure,” Linc shook his head. “Let me think.” He closed his eyes a moment, then opened them back, along with his mouth. “There are about 50 adults at the compound total, I’d guess. I’d say at least a dozen are with Rei lock-step, maybe more. I can’t say for sure. But something is gonna go down. It’s gonna be big, and it feels like hours more than days. I’m surprised that nobody’s come to relieve me of my post yet, which makes me think that at least some of the guards are still loyal to The Prophet.”
“You realize how much danger we’re in, right? I mean us, specifically.” She grabbed Linc by the arm and whispered through gritted teeth. “If there’s a power struggle and Rei wins, we’re goners, I know it. He’s crazy, and he hates us.”
Every cell inside Mary was terrified that Linc would betray the Drury Group, and that she’d already said too much. Had he said as much as he did to see where her loyalties stood? Or was he being honest? Her gut and the look in his eyes said she should trust him. Besides, it wasn’t as if she had anyone else left to trust.
She held Linc’s hands and pleaded. “You have to help us, however you can.”
“I’m on the front gate until Brother Barry returns from his break. I’m on prison guard duty after that, so long as Rei doesn’t change his mind before then. I’ll see how they’re doing and let you know.”
“What are we going to do about Rei?” She asked.
“I dunno, Mary. I’m thinking on it. I’ll let you know if I come up with something before shit hits the fan.”
Mary thanked Linc, then left, running back to Paola and trying to ignore the waves of acid sloshing along the shores of her stomach. The knowing she’d always felt was whispering a certainty she couldn’t accept.
She and Paola were going to die. Along with the child growing inside her.
Sixty
Desmond Armstrong
Desmond woke in the darkness, bound to the wall in a T shape, his head throbbing and arms burning. His feet were bound to the floor. He was able to move them, just slightly, and heard the sound of chains rattling when he did.
The smell of piss and shit was rancid in his nose.
Where am I?
The room was pitch-black and cold.
“Hello?” he said, hesitantly.
“You’re awake,” a familiar voice said, though it sounded different, a bit deeper than he remembered.
“Luca?”
“Yes, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Desmond said, trying to pull free from the arm restraints, with no relief.
“Carl is in here, too,” Luca said, “I think he’s sleeping. Carl?”
No response.
“How long have we been in here?” Desmond asked, “And where are we? Do you know?”
“Since this morning. I think it’s nighttime now; I’m not sure,” Luca said. “We’re in the basement of the women’s house. It’s like a dungeon.”
Probably the room where Brother Rei interrogated Carl.
“Did they take anyone else?”
“Anyone else?” Luca asked.
“Did they go after Mary, Paola, or Linc?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Good,” Desmond said. “Is Rebecca okay?”
“Yes, but Brother Rei put her back in the box not too long after one of the women examined her and made sure she was okay.”
“How do you know?” Desmond asked.
“Because I can talk to her in my head,” Luca said.
Desmond laughed. “Of course you can.”
“You don’t believe me?” Luca asked, hurt.
“No, it’s not that. I was just laughing because you’re like some sorta magical wonder. You heal people; you can hear people’s thoughts; you turn into a 25-year-old man. What else can you do? Can you leap tall buildings in a single bound, or at least get us out of here?”
Luca was quiet for a second, “No, but I know someone who can.”
“Who?” Desmond asked.
“I’m trying to reach Will. If I can get to him, he knows where there’s some guns and might be able to come back and save us.”
Desmond liked the idea, but wasn’t sure if Will could pull it off on his own, even if he were 20 years younger and a bit less weird. “You can talk to Will?”
“Yes, before he left he told me to call him when we need him. He seemed to know we would need him soon. I think he dreamed all this. I’ve been trying to reach him for a little while. I’m not sure if he’s too far or maybe he needs to be asleep, but I’ll keep trying.”
“Good,” Desmond said. “Thank you.”
Then after a moment, Desmond asked, “Can you reach out to Mary and Paola?”
“I can hear their thoughts, sometimes, so I know they’re okay right now, but they can’t hear me if I try to talk to them.”
Desmond sighed with relief that they were okay, though he wished Luca could converse with them. Then he felt a twinge of doubt, and thought maybe Luca was only imagining that he could hear people’s thoughts. Desmond didn’t really doubt, so much as he wanted to know for certain.
He thought in Luca’s general direction, “Say Amen if you can hear me.”
Nothing.
He repeated the thought, this time louder.
Nothing.
One more time, and this time Desmond screamed it in his thoughts.
A moment later, Luca said, “Amen.”
“You heard me?” Desmond thought, “What took you so long to answer?”
“What do you mean?” Luca said.
“I said it three times,” Desmond thought.
“I wasn’t tuned into you,” Luca explained. “I can only hear if I’m tuned in, and I don’t like to tune in on people if they don’t know it. But I heard you the one time, when you screamed.”
Oh shit, I wonder if he heard all the things I’ve been thinking. I wonder if he knows the things Mary and I have been thinking about him and Paola. Shit, Desmond, stop thinking, he’s gonna hear you.
Desmond tried to change his thoughts, almost certain Luca had heard the last few, if he’d not heard them before. He decided to hedge his bets, and try to think good things.
“I like you, Luca. We all love you. You’re family to us. Yeah, you’ve spooked us a few times, but we still love you. Mary was just worried. You know how mothers can be, right? Paola’s her baby girl. Even though you’re 8 in real life, you’re a teenager, well, hell, now you’re 25. You can understand how protective she feels, right?”
“It’s okay, Mr. Desmond,” Luca said after a minute of silence. “I understand. I’m getting out of your head now, so don’t worry.”
Desmond wondered if Luca really left, and felt a flush of shame and guilt, but also a bit violated. How long has Luca been able to listen to their thoughts? How often had he spied on them?
Everyone thought things they’d be ashamed for others to pick up on, from petty to perverse. Any number of times Desmond might have mentally told someone in their group to fuck off, or wished them dead, even if he didn’t really mean it. He was certain he’d thought of Luca as creepy any number of times, and even wondered if the boy was a threat, a time or two.
Desmond’s unguarded thoughts probably made him seem
like a monster to an eight-year-old, especially one so sheltered and innocent as Luca had been. Hell, Luca could’ve picked up on Desmond thinking Paola looked pretty, and misinterpreted it as him being a pervert, even though he didn’t think of Paola in that way. Perhaps worse, Luca had picked up on the dirty thoughts Desmond had about Mary, who he did think of in that way, thoughts that had grown dirtier the longer they were separated at The Sanctuary. The things he thought about doing to her.
Oh God, he must think I’m the biggest pervert ever.
He hoped Luca saw through the stray thoughts to the real Desmond, the guy who was loyal and kind; the guy who loved them all like family, and would die to protect them. He hoped Luca would judge him on his actions, instead.
Desmond felt invaded and ashamed, but at the same time, he had to take Luca at his word. The boy was a kind, gentle soul, and if he said he wasn’t peeping into their thoughts, Desmond had to believe him. Luca had been privy to Desmond’s every thought, so if he had been tuning in, surely he’d have seen the good and bad, and judged Desmond fairly. Desmond was sure that compared to the others at The Sanctuary, his thoughts were downright decent. He could only imagine the depravity running through someone like Rei, who probably got off on torturing small animals, or people, while making others watch. And who knew what weirdness ran through John, who seemed so straight laced, but whose weird smile hinted at something weird or wicked underneath.
Desmond tried to think of himself before he broadcast THAT image, and polluted whatever innocence Luca still held onto. He imagined a field of flowers, cleansing his mind’s canvas.
The sound of locks on the outside of the door severed Desmond’s thoughts and tensed his body. Light spilled into the room from outside as shadows fell on the stairs and footsteps echoed into the chamber.
Desmond took advantage of the light and scanned the dungeon to get an idea of what was what. The room was ten by ten, with concrete floors. He was strapped to the wall facing the steps, while Carl and Luca were strapped to opposite walls to his left and right, respectively. Carl looked up, groggy and emaciated. Desmond wondered if they’d even fed the kid since locking him down here days ago. His pants were stained with shit and piss. His shirt, like Luca’s, had been removed and his chest was covered in purple and black bruises. Luca, thankfully, showed no signs of abuse — yet.
