Kumbaya Much

by Bella Street

  Seffy snuck into the pantry and closed the door. She turned and stared at the floor-to-ceiling shelves jammed full of canned goods. Aside from the fruit, the vast majority of the contents had to be served hot...so that left pretty much fruit cocktail.

  Reaching into her hiding place behind the generic ravioli in meat sauce cans, she retrieved her stolen can opener and spoon. Seffy opened a can and stared at the colorless bits of fruit swimming in heavy syrup. Sighing, she took a bite.

  She ate mechanically to fill the void in her stomach, but as she got fuller, her depression increased. Her shoulders slumped as she sat cross-legged on the floor. She missed Trent cooking for her. Why didn't he anymore? Brenda was out of the picture—completely. Maybe I should steal his hot plate so I can warm up canned soup from time to time.

  Or maybe she should stop fighting to stay unmedicated. Maybe she should breathe in the narcotic air and welcome tainted food. If she was drugged out of her gourd she probably wouldn't be prone to the realization that she was leading a useless and pathetic existence.

  Seffy put the half-eaten can on the shelf and sniffed quietly in the gloomy room. This is stupid. I'm just tired and should go back to bed. But the notion of slogging all the way back to her room was daunting. She glanced at the bottom shelf and decided it would do. Seffy shoved a swath of cans to the side, grabbed a package of paper towels for a pillow and turned off the light. A quick nap would surely make everything all right.

  ***

  Trent stared at the gun under Seffy's pillow and glanced down at her walkie-talkie in his hand. Dammit, where was the woman? And why didn't she have her stuff?

  After she'd left the Light Room, he'd stayed for a while, wondering why pretty much everything he said ticked her off. After heading to his room—and noting Fenn was gone—he'd returned here, expecting to find Sef. Instead, he had a new worry on his hands. Was she okay? Or somewhere hurt and afraid?

  The sound of a ringing phone jolted him. Trent hurried back to his room and grabbed the receiver.

  “Trent, this is Olga. I have a small team ready like you asked.”

  He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Okay, don't say anything else over the phone. Let me think.” He needed to meet her and somehow bring Fenn with him. “Um, can you meet me where we last were with Seffy?”

  “I'm on my way.”

  That was easy. Trent replaced the receiver, once again thinking that aerated happiness might not be such a bad way to go.

  A knock on his door made him jump. Tensing, he went to the wall next to the door. “Who is it?”

  “Fenn.”

  Trent opened the door. “Dude, what are you doing in the hallway? Where did you go?”

  “The room next to yours was empty, so I went there. By the way, while you were gone, I got a hold of a few gas masks.” He walked in. “I heard the phone through the wall. Was it your friend?”

  “Yeah, it was Olga. She says she has a doctor and anesthesiologist who can be discreet, but who really knows who's in league with who around here. Plus, this is still such a risky procedure. And does the compound even have the right medication available—?”

  “Don't worry about the details. I appreciate you helping me out, Trent. You've done what was needed, now it's up to me.”

  Trent regarded Fenn for a moment. The man who had always seemed distracted and weak suddenly appeared formidable in a desperate kind of way. Maybe once he was clean, he would be able to deal with the compound—and Fiona.

  Then maybe Fenn could get him and the others home.

  “Okay, we're going to meet Olga at the imaging department and go from there.”

  “Lead the way.”

  Trent checked his watch. Six am. The halls should be pretty quiet still. As he headed toward the medical wing with Fenn in tow, he wondered where Seffy was. Was she with Gareth again, preferring the emotionally-stunted pretty boy to himself? What did she see in the guy? Gareth had failed her over and over and yet she clung to some frayed connection between them. Trent had to figure out what it was—and how to sever it for once and for all.

  Olga appeared around a corner, bringing him up short. Had they arrived already?

  Her eyes widened when she saw Fenn. “What's going on?”

  Fenn stepped forward and laid out his plan.

  ***

  Seffy heard the music and was drawn irresistibly toward it. She didn't recognize the melody, only that it spoke to someplace deep within her—like a quiet, insistent tune that eventually wakens the sleeper. The forest fell behind her as she walked. She looked up to see a beautiful mountain rising into the cloudy heights. Her steps led her to a glade where the grass was waist high. Seffy's eyes widened at the sylvan scene before her.

  Dancers in filmy white garb danced around a maypole to the sound of revelers with ancient musical instruments. The musicians wore pointed hats with feathery plumes. Strange cross-bred lions, tigers, and zebra blends lolled about, nodding their heads in time to the music. Seffy laughed out loud at the absurdity of the scene. Her laughter was carried on the wind and when it reached the dancers, they slowed their movements. The music faded away and everyone turned to stare at her.

  The absence of music made her sad. Seffy approached the group, planning to apologize and ask them to continue their party. When she got closer, she recognized some of the dancers. Gareth, Lani, Addison...even Jared, Eva, and Cynthia, all looked at her with hard eyes, their expressions at odds with the frivolity of the setting.

  Seffy reached out her hand in a placating gesture. “I was wrong to laugh. Please...don't stop on account of me.”

  The dancers looked at each other, communicating some silent message, then the musicians picked up their instruments. But instead of a sprightly song, a funereal dirge wavered across the glade. Seffy regarded her friends, wondering how they would dance to such a sorrowful lament, but when she looked closer, she saw that the dancing figures were now skeletons moving in stately measure around the maypole, their teeth frozen in mocking, rictus smiles, their sockets vacant, yet somehow accusing.

  Horrified, Seffy turned and stumbled away from the scene. Her feet tripped on a root and she crashed to the ground. Then they were after her. All of them. Even the freakish animals. She'd never escape. Any moment she knew she'd feel bony fingers encircling her ankle, yanking her back to their terrifying world.

  An explosion of pain burst across her forehead. Seffy gasped and opened her eyes. Breathing hard, she blinked in the gloom, slowly recognizing the dim metal shine around her as shelving filled with canned goods.

  She touched her forehead, realizing she must've banged it on the shelf above her. Seffy closed her eyes for a moment, remembering wisps of the dream...or nightmare. With slow, careful movements, she sat up, angling her way off the shelf. When she looked down at the floor, she saw her toppled can lying in a puddle of dismembered fruit.

  Seffy sighed, grabbed the paper towels and cleaned up the mess. Next time, she'd make the effort to get back to her own bed when she had the sudden urge to nap. As she left the pantry, she peered down the hall, having no clue what time it was. Had she been asleep for hours or minutes? Disorientation weighted her steps.

  The sound of rushing footfalls made her panic and Seffy darted down an opposite hallway until the sound passed. As she waited for her heart to slow, she wondered why she felt so spooked. Seffy peeked down the hall and seeing it was empty, headed back towards her room.

  As she entered the abandoned psychiatric section, voices ricocheted off walls somewhere nearby. Seffy wondered who else would be in the psychonautics hall—where all the bad things happened. The chills running up her arms told her she probably wouldn't like the answer.

  Taking a deep breath, she turned the corner that went past Trent's room and continued to the last doorway. The deadbolt and chains were gone. And if she squinted, she could see light spilling out of a doorway at the end of the hall. She twisted her head the other way—the direction of her room. That's where she should go.
But what was at the end of the other hall?

  Seffy decided on a quick peek. One look, then she'd stay and sleep in her room for the rest of the day. Or go visit her friends. Make sure they were okay after her freaky dream.

  Her heart crashed in her chest like a trapped bird, which was totally irrational. There was a perfectly good reason for there to be legitimate activity in the one of the rooms where she'd been tied down to a cold metal table and experimented on—well away from the real medical wing.

  Seffy swallowed and began walking toward the usually locked doors—except the heavy chains and bolt were missing. But that was okay. She could just face her fears and all that. Kick bad memories in the butt—with style.

  Adrenaline surged through her system, making her dizzy. She put her hand out to the bumpy concrete wall for guidance as she forced one foot in front of the other down the dead-end hallway. An exit sign glowed green above one door, like a mockery.

  Because she'd already tried leaving before.

  As she neared the room at the end, she sensed activity within, confirmed by shadows momentarily darkening the rectangle of light shining on the linoleum. Taking a deep breath, she approached the room entrance and looked inside. White light glowed bright, eclipsed by figures moving back and forth. Seffy saw someone on a hospital bed, hooked up to tubes and machines. The person turned his head and looked at her with hollow eyes.

  Fenn.

  Seffy tilted her head, pressing her fingers to her temple. She squeezed her eyes shut for the space of a heartbeat, then opened them again, fully expecting to see an empty room.

  But Fenn was still there. His blue gaze caught and held hers. “Sarah.”

  Seffy twisted hard to left and took off back down the hall. She ran as fast as her legs would go, aware only of the frantic sounds of her feet, her labored breathing, the rush of air past her face. She turned the corner and headed straight for Trent's room.

  His door was unlocked and she burst into the room. Trent looked up at her entrance, his eyes wide. Seffy ran to him and flung her arms around him, holding him tight.

  “Whoa.”

  He returned her embrace, making soothing noises while she buried her face into his neck. He felt solid and warm. He smelled like he'd just showered. Seffy pulled away slightly and looked up at him, trying to catch her breath. “You're real, right? You feel real.”

  Trent frowned at her. “I'm real, Sef. What's going on?”

  She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek under his jaw, fighting the sting of tears. As her heartbeat slowed, she struggled to gather her thoughts. “I almost wish you weren't real,” she whispered. “Because my visions are coming true. I just don't know where the cat is. Why did I see the bones? I think Eugene is lying.”

  Trent's hands slid to her arms and he held her away from him. “What did you see?”

  Seffy looked up at him, at his gray eyes and concerned expression. Her emotions regarding him might be confused, but there was no doubt she needed him. “I don't want you to die.”

  “Seffy,” he growled. “What are you talking about?”

  She licked her lips. “My visions. Or nightmares. Whatever.”

  “What about them?”

  “They're coming true.”

  “What specifically came true?”

  “I saw Fenn. In the locked ward.” She moved her hands weakly. “There were tubes and he looked so sick.”

  “And you've seen that before?”

  “Yes, around the time when I saw aliens and...stuff.” She shook her head, unwilling to bring all the horrible details to mind.

  Trent tugged at her hands and brought her to the side of the couch where he coaxed her down next to him. “Seffy, Fenn really is in that room. What you saw was real.”

  Her lip trembled. “Then will the other things come true, too?”

  His hands enveloped hers. “What I mean is that Fenn is getting help for his addiction today. He doesn't want Fiona to know, so Olga and others are helping him in secret.”

  Seffy stared at him. “What's happening to him?”

  “He's preparing to undergo an ultra-rapid detox.”

  Seffy pushed away from Trent and stood up. “What?”

  He reached up and took her hand. “Come here.”

  She slowly sat down. “Do you know what that procedure entails?”

  “A little. I looked into it with the doctor from your office way back when, but decided to go with the methadone treatment instead.”

  Seffy rubbed her face, completely unbalanced by this development. “I don't know a whole lot, only that it's a relatively new procedure. As in the 90s on. Not 1980.”

  “How can we be sure?”

  “The real question is, how would Fenn even know about it?” She closed her eyes to concentrate. “How could they get the opiate blockers? Have those drugs even been developed yet?”

  “I was shocked, too, when he told me. But he got Olga and a couple of other doctors to help him on the sly. He seems convinced this is the key to dealing with his addiction.”

  “Then why not have us get the specific meds for it while we were back in WeHo? Why mess with the methadone?”

  He shook his head. “I don't know.”

  Seffy took a cleansing breath. Fenn was more or less all right. It was a coincidence, that was all. She could calm down now. “Okay, we have got to figure some things out around here.”

  Trent's touch became caressing. “One thing I know is that you kinda like having me around, as in alive.”

  A weary smile broke through her anxiety. “Yes, Trent, I'm very fond of you being alive.”

  He pulled her hand up and dropped a kiss onto her knuckles. “We're definitely making progress in the right direction.”

  Seffy regarded him, not yet wanting to examine the torrent of relief at finding him okay. “I am still confused about the cat. And then there's the whole Verity issue that keeps getting scuttled.”

  “This is the first I've heard about a cat.”

  She sighed. “Do you remember when I got dressed up to go see Eugene about something?”

  “Trust me, the memory of you in that outfit is burned deep into my brain.”

  Seffy tugged her hand away. “In his room he had an orange cat that he called Schrodinger that liked to get in this box—”

  “Let me guess—the name is an inside joke about something nerdy.”

  “Yes. Anyway, I petted the cat and I remember there was cat hair all over my skirt when I took it off.”

  Trent held up his hand. “Hold it right there, and allow me to imagine you taking off your skirt.”

  Seffy swatted his arm. “Be serious! When I was in his room the other day—”

  “You were there again? Do you two have something going on?”

  “—the box was there, but inside there were cat bones, not an orange kitty cat.”

  “Did he accidentally starve it?”

  “He said there never was a cat—that animals are not allowed in the compound. And when I looked back in the box, the bones were gone.”

  The amusement in Trent's eyes fled. “Was the day otherwise normal for you?”

  “I wasn't having any episodes if that's what you mean.”

  “Well, then, it's simple. Have you washed the skirt? If not, maybe there are still cat hairs on it.”

  Seffy furrowed her brow, trying to remember what she did with it. “I had borrowed it from the girls. Maybe I gave it back?”

  “Do you want to go find out now? Because frankly, I need to get my mind off of what Fenn is subjecting himself to.”

  ***

  Trent wasn't exactly lying. He was worried about Fenn...in fact he had a sealed envelope from him with instructions in case he didn't make it through the procedure. That was one message he didn't relish delivering to Fiona.

  But even more pressing was the knowledge that Seffy was worried about him. Not just concerned. But frantic, and needing to reassure herself that he was okay. That was a damn good feeling, especially a
s she stayed just out of reach relationship-wise. It wasn't lost on him that she hadn't gone running into the metro-sexual's arms.

  Which was just as it should be.

  “I better check my closet first, just in case.”

  “Good idea.” Trent followed her down the passageway and watched as she sifted through the clothes hanging from the rod.

  “Nope, it's not here.”

  “Where to next?” he asked.

  “I'll try Lani's first and go from there.”

  As they walked down the hall, Seffy seemed preoccupied. Trent wondered if this would be a bad time to take her hand.

  Lani opened the door right after Seffy knocked. “Hi, sweetie! Come in. And Trent. Wow, I haven't seen much of you around here lately.”

  Seffy opened her mouth, then closed it, casting a nervous glance over her shoulder at him. Trent's attention flicked from her to Lani, wondering what was up. “I, uh, just ran into Seffy in the hall.”

  “Well, we're glad you're both here, right guys?”

  She stepped aside to reveal Gareth and Addison perched on the side of the bed.

  “We were reminiscing again,” Addison said in a soft voice that made Trent stare.

  When Gareth saw Seffy, his eyes glowed with some inner light. He stood up as she went to him. Seffy stared at Gareth like she'd been caught in a tractor beam.

  What the hell?

  Gareth slid his arm around her, pulling her close and whispering in her ear. Her cheeks turned red at whatever he said, and she gazed up at him, seeming to forget Trent was in the room.

  “Hey, Sef, didn't you say something about a skirt?”

  After a moment, she blinked and turned to Lani. “Oh...do you remember when I borrowed that outfit from you? Do you still have that navy blue skirt?”

  “Let me check.” Lani went to her closet and while she looked, Trent watched in disbelief as Gareth drew Seffy over to the bed. He sat on the edge and pulled her between his legs, holding her hands and speaking to her in a low voice. Geez, did the drug increase libido or something?