Kumbaya Much

by Bella Street

  Trent and Seffy followed, both noticing the complete absence of guards at Fenn's quarters. Fiona grabbed the door handle and pulled, but it was apparently locked. She cursed and kicked at the door. Pressing her palms against the panel, she screamed his name.

  Seffy suppressed shivers at the keening sound. Trent nudged Fiona aside and tried several keys. After a moment, the door opened. Fiona clawed at the door handle, fighting off Trent's attempts to hold her back. She got ahead of him and went inside. Trent looked behind him and reached out his hand for Seffy.

  As his fingers closed around hers, she paused. “Do we go in?”

  “I think we have to.”

  They entered the dark antechamber, hearing Fiona's raised voice further inside the residence. When they went into the living room, Seffy looked towards the kitchen, seeing piles of dishes overflowing the sink. They followed Fiona's voice into the bedroom and saw her climbing on Fenn's bed, crying and laughing at the same time.

  When Seffy saw Fenn lying on the bed, struggling to sit up at their entrance, she wondered at Fiona's hysterical reaction. Fenn reached his arms out and his girlfriend climbed into them. He pulled her into a crushing embrace, the muscles of his hands and arms distended, as he buried his face in her neck. Seffy looked away in discomfort, now fully convinced of their eccentric affection.

  After several minutes of a tearful reunion, Fiona calmed somewhat and burrowed into Fenn's side, sniffling. Seffy tried to maintain a stoic expression at the bizarre behavior.

  “Dude, what's going on?”

  Fenn looked at Trent with tired eyes. “I've been sick the last week or so. Food poisoning, I guess.”

  Trent appeared to be considering his words for a moment. “Seffy and I have been witness to some disturbances today...a bleeding girl running through the halls, fist fights in the cafeteria, and...” he nodded toward Fiona. “Her guard was dead and she was locked in her room.”

  Fenn paled and looked down at Fiona. “What? Why didn't you call me? I didn't want you here because I was sick, but I could've sent someone to help.”

  Fiona's large brown eyes were wider than ever as she peeped over Fenn's shoulder at them. Seffy wondered if she didn't want to speak in front of them.

  Fenn ran a hand over his face. “I spent the first week after my treatment resting and catching up on the demands of the compound. Then I got sick and haven't been able to keep anything down, including my pain medication. The leukemia...” he shook his head. “I haven't really been able to get around because of joint pain.”

  “So you haven't seen her for two weeks?” Trent asked quietly, regarding Fiona. “Doesn't that strike you as odd?”

  “I had all the department heads report to me. Eugene said Fiona had been working tirelessly on getting the computer lab back up and running.”

  Seffy frowned. “How long was she in her room?”

  Fenn glanced down at his girlfriend. She bit her nails and sent them a surly stare before looking up at him. “Since you put me there.”

  “Two weeks?” Fenn said, aghast. “I told them to release you after three days. Eugene assured me you were simply busy and wanted me to rest.”

  Seffy swallowed her shock. She thought Eugene was terrified of Fiona.

  “So where do we go from here?” Trent said, his voice tense. “There's at least one body in the halls, and more if what we've seen is any indication.”

  “I can get security—”

  “I haven't seen any guards but a dead one, Fenn. I don't think that's your answer.”

  Fiona sat up. “I'm hungry.” With the movements of a cat, she climbed off the bed.

  Fenn grabbed her hand. “What happened to your arms?”

  Fiona grimaced. “Itchy.” She tugged her hand away and left the room, presumably to go to the kitchen.

  Fenn closed his eyes and blew out a breath. “I don't know what to say. I thought things were under control.”

  Seffy knew Trent was exercising restraint. This was hardly the first time the compound leader seemed surprised that everything had gone to hell.

  “It appears you have no control here. And you should be focusing on dealing with your cancer. Isn't there someone who can take over?”

  Fenn smiled bitterly. “You want the job?”

  Trent snorted. “No thanks.”

  “If Fiona and I could agree on management styles, she's actually better suited to the job.” He frowned. “I've never seen her like this. Is it possible she's really been cooped up for two weeks?”

  Seffy refrained from pointing out that it was technically his job to know these things.

  “Regardless, you need to seriously accept the idea that you're being undermined by someone close to you. I'd start with Eugene since he's been lying about Fiona.”

  Fenn lowered his blue eyes.

  Trent clenched his jaw. “We'll give a look around and I'll get back to you.”

  He nodded.

  Trent took Seffy's hand as they left the residence. When they were out in the hall again, he put his arm around her. “How are you holding up?”

  She looked up at him, noting the new strain around his eyes. “I'd rather be up in the Light Room with you.”

  He smiled. “You and me both.” He gave her a squeeze. “Let's just go do a little recon and then go back to the room. We can call Fenn from there, then take up where we left off.”

  She lifted her face for his kiss and wasn't disappointed. But her ardor waned as they turned the corner and saw the slumped guard. Trent switched sides with her as they hurried past. As they headed toward the part of the compound with the most residences, they encountered more eerie sounds behind doors. A few minutes later, they felt vibrations in the floor.

  Trent stopped. “Is that music?”

  Seffy listened hard. “I think so,” she said slowly. “Where could it be coming from?”

  They followed the sound and soon ended up in the area that housed the school and nursery. Seffy recognized the farm mural painted on the block walls. No aliens or mutilated cattle this time.

  Heavy bass thumped through the concrete. As they neared, they saw people congregating in the halls. Several couples kissed passionately in the shadows, others gyrated to the beat.

  “I think our invitations to the party got lost in the mail,” Trent whispered.

  They threaded past the residents who didn't seem to notice their presence. Pushing open the double doors that led into the school, Trent led the way inside. Before he got two feet in, he stopped. “Okay, we're leaving now.”

  Seffy slid past him. “What?” She halted her steps, riveted as she took in the scene. There must've been three hundred people crammed into the space, and many were making the most of the cramped conditions, as in engaging in copulation right out in the open—especially disturbing when factoring in the soaring saxophone and electric guitar music.

  Averting her eyes from the most obvious activity, she saw others dancing wildly, some fighting, and several people sitting on the floor cutting into their arms with safety pins or small knives. Oh dear Lord.

  Trent wrapped his fingers around her arm and pulled her from the room. Seffy reeled, trying to keep up. Images seared her brain as she tried to put one foot in front of the other. They went past the outer revelers. Too numb to speak, she followed Trent, not caring where they were going.

  “That has ruined Baker Street for me forever.”

  She didn't bother asking what he meant.

  He cleared his throat. “I've got a sinking suspicion I want to check out.”

  Seffy noticed they were heading in the direction of the garage. Once they arrived at the access door, he eased it open and looked inside.

  “Oh, no.”

  Seffy didn't want to know what it was this time, so she flattened herself against the wall and closed her eyes. She heard him running across the concrete and then a metallic grinding filled the air. Peeking despite her intention, she saw that all the garage bays were wide open, showing the Montana desert wavering
in the afternoon sunlight—with nary a guard in sight. Trent went around hitting the buttons until all bays were closed, then grabbed her hand and led her back into the hallway.

  “Are we going to check on the others now?”

  “Yes.”

  They ran back to their section. Seffy's heart pounded with dread. When she saw Gareth's door, she ran to it and flung it open without knocking. He stood next to the closet, shirtless, with a bloody gash down his arm. He glanced over at them, seeming unsurprised by the intrusion.

  “She won't come out and play.”

  Seffy refrained from rushing to his side. His dead eyes terrified her. She didn't know this person.

  “Who won't play?” Trent asked.

  Gareth pointed toward the closet door. Seffy went to it and opened the door. She stifled a gasp at the site of Addison crouching in a corner, drawing designs on her arm with a pocketknife.

  Blinking back tears, Seffy knelt next to her. “Are you okay?”

  Addison scowled, avoiding her eyes. “He doesn't love me best.”

  Seffy reached down and touched her arm. “Come out of the closet, Addy.”

  The redhead looked up at her for a moment with eyes absent their usual anger. Instead a barrenness stared back at her, shaking Seffy to the core.

  After sliding the knife from Addison's fingers, she took her arm and helped her up. Ignoring Gareth, she led her back to her own room and had her lie down on the bed. Tears blurred Seffy's eyes as she realized she didn't know Addison as well as she thought either. She brushed the hair back from her face, knowing she'd failed her friend. “Can I get you anything? Are you thirsty or hungry?”

  Addison closed her eyes, curling into a ball. “No, just tired. So damn tired.”

  Not knowing what else to do, she turned to go. Addison reached out and grabbed her hand. “Keep him away from me.”

  “Who? Gareth?”

  She nodded.

  “Oh.” Seffy took a breath. “Okay. I'll lock your door behind me.”

  As she left the room, she glanced back at the redhead, wondering what had really gone on with her friends the last two weeks. She locked the door and headed back to Gareth's. Seffy found Trent standing with his arms crossed, staring daggers at him.

  “Gareth,” she said. “Addison wants you to leave her alone, okay?”

  His handsome face took on a mulish cast, but he gave a curt nod of his head. He went over and sat on the side of the bed.

  “Do you need anything?”

  Gareth lifted his head and gazed at her with the same empty look as Addison's. He stared at her for several moments before finally dropping his eyes.

  Trent touched her arm. “Let's go check on the others.”

  Seffy followed him out into the hall, locking the door behind her. As Trent headed toward Lani's room, she quickly got in front of him, remembering the last time she'd popped in unannounced. “Let me check first.” She pressed her ear against the door and heard what she'd suspected she might hear. Seffy sent Trent a tight smile, unable to stop the heat from rising in her cheeks. “They're fine.”

  “They?”

  “Lani and Malone.”

  Realization lit his eyes. “Oh.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, do we check on Eva, Cynthia, and Jared?”

  “I guess we should, strictly speaking.”

  They found them all in the same room, slowly dancing to a vaguely familiar 80s song. When they didn't notice their presence, Trent backed out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him. “I didn't know you could dance like that to Randy Newman.” He sighed. “Let's go somewhere and think.”

  When they arrived in his room, he stood in the middle of the space with his hands on his hips. Seffy perched on the edge of the bed, a new thought suddenly burgeoning in her mind. She ignored it for the moment. It was just too terrible to consider. “What do you think is happening?” she finally asked.

  He regarded her. “People—some people—are acting like the aerated drug is still being pumped through the ventilation system.”

  Seffy bit her lip hard. She'd been thinking the same thing. That meant—oh, Lord.

  Trent came over and sat next to her. “When you came to me that day, saying you didn't use your mask...”

  She let out a squeaky laugh. “You mean when I tried and failed to seduce you?”

  His gray eyes were steady. “Trust me, you didn't fail.”

  “I didn't breathe the air. I was just curious how you'd react.”

  Trent wiped away imaginary sweat from his brow.

  She took his hand. “Why didn't you take me up on my offer that day?”

  “Seffy, seriously? Number one, if you were under the influence, that would've been wrong. Number two, if you weren't and I bit, you'd kill me later.”

  “Sorry, it was mean. I was...confused and thoughtless.”

  “It was mean. Tsk tsk.”

  Seffy looked down at his hand in hers. “Trent, you know this begs the question. Is this why...” she swallowed back the dread, “is this why you and me this time..?”

  He nudged up her chin. “First we have to figure out what is causing people to go loco around here before we jump to conclusions, but even if somehow we're affected—”

  “How can we not be?”

  “Even if we are, Seffy I told you I loved you long before any of this happened. That hasn't changed.”

  “But what if I love you because of it?”

  He dropped his hand from her face. “It's occurred to me, too. But at the risk of sounding like Yoda, sweetheart, search your feelings.”

  She grabbed onto his attempt at humor to keep her from falling apart and forced a small smile. “I can't imagine life without you, Trent.”

  “Then that's good enough.”

  She wished it were that simple. When she thought of the surrender, the abandon of their lovemaking, she now feared it was all due to some kind of stimulant. What would happen when the drug wore off? Already she was dealing with sneaking around, keeping her relationship from her friends. When the faux affection was gone, would she return to the others humiliated?

  “Kiss me.”

  Seffy's eyes flashed up to his before she could shield her fears.

  He touched her face, his voice dropping. “This is my little experiment.”

  She shook her head. “It won't help, since you're under the influence too. You won't be able to be cerebral about this.”

  He laughed softly. “I've never been able to be very cerebral with you, Sef.”

  She looked at his lips, remembering the pleasure he'd brought to her, and needed that comfort right now despite the crazy air. Seffy kissed him lightly, closing her eyes and absorbing the simple velvet of the contact.

  Trent's hand cupped her jaw, his lips teasing, tugging and ultimately possessing. She moaned against his mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him over onto the bed. His kiss deepened until Seffy began pushing up his shirt.

  Trent raised his lips an inch away. “Tell me you love me.”

  “I love you.”

  He regarded her with a heavy-lidded gaze. “Are you sure?”

  Seffy, struggling to control her breathing, ran her fingers down his face, remembering when she couldn't stand him. He'd become precious to her so quickly. How was that possible? But to be denied his touch—that was impossible. “I'm sure.”

  She was rewarded with a sensual fervor of his roving hands and mouth that dispersed her concerns like a vapor.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Even once the storm passed, things remained cloudy. When Seffy was in Trent's arms, everything made sense. Now, as she watched him sit up in the bed next to her and rub his face, she felt adrift. Seffy touched his back, feeling the perspiration on his skin. He turned and looked down at her. She wished she could discern what lay behind his eyes, wished she could believe his whispered words.

  Fighting the sensation of being stranded, Seffy looked away as he pulled on his clothes and went
into the bathroom. She quickly reached for her own clothes and slid into them. She knew she should be more concerned about what was going on in the compound, but a heaviness weighted down her heart.

  Seffy was trying to finger-comb her hair into some form of neatness when Trent came out of the bathroom. He sat down next to her, his expression serious.

  “I was thinking that we should talk to Eugene. He was the one responsible for administering the airborne drug last time.”

  She nodded, keeping her face calm while fighting tumultuous emotions.

  He touched her hand. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded again.

  “You don't look like you're all right.”

  “I'm fine, Trent.”

  “Um hmm. Very convincing.”

  Apparently her act wasn't working. Why had she wanted to be an actress in the first place? She totally sucked at it.

  Seffy leaned her head against his shoulder. Maybe she could graft him onto her body as a coping mechanism.

  Trent pressed his cheek against her head. “We're going to get to the bottom of this, but it's not going to make any difference how I feel about you.”

  She pulled in a deep breath and nodded.

  He stood up and looked down at her. “I can tell you don't believe me. What do I have to do to prove it?”

  Seffy saw a latent spark of exasperation in his eyes. “You don't have to prove anything.” She stood up alongside him, smoothing out her expression. “Let's go talk to Eugene.”

  He stared at her for a moment, then sighed and took her hand. They walked down the halls in silence. Seffy berated herself the entire way. She knew there was nothing more unattractive than insecurity. Worst case scenario, if their relationship had been based solely on happy gas, then that was it. Unfortunately, the strange sounds coming from behind residents' doors reinforced the notion.

  The thought tore at her and she chewed on her lip hard to stop the sting of tears in her eyes. Seffy would not cry in front of Trent. She'd survived torture, rejection, experimentation, hallucinations...all which dwarfed a broken heart.

  Right?