by Burgy, P. J.
The steps leading up were blocked off, sealed off in fact, with metal bars and grating. No one could come down to reach the lower levels, or, as she suspected was the case, nothing they wanted to keep down could get back up. The gray concrete was stained and dirty, the lights flickering in the stairwell.
“They’re keeping him down there?” she asked.
“Deeper,” he replied. “The first lower level is dedicated to the generators and fuel supplies. We wouldn’t keep that on the same levels as the abomin-, the afflicted.”
They went down the steps together, reaching the landing at the bottom, which happened to be the end of the stairwell. The only way they could go now was through the set of double doors. Elijah held one of them open for her.
After she had stepped through, he followed. It was a dark corridor with flickering fluorescent lights built into the ceiling. She saw the pipes and the plumbing, held in place by brackets screwed or bolted into the walls. On the right, she saw closed elevator doors. She followed after him but stopped when she saw the open room on her left.
There were six huge generators in the room, each plugged into bunches of corded wire that ran up along the walls. One generator was humming loudly. She also saw a large, steel box on the floor, the wires leading directly into the ceiling. He stopped her before she could walk in and take a closer look.
His voice was low. “Come on.”
“Is this all of them? Your generators?” she asked.
“Yes. And the battery for the solar panels. It charges during the day, acts as a backup for the night. It’s all pretty fascinating, but, we can talk about it another time. Come on. It’s a ways yet.” He took her arm and gave her a gentle tug to encourage her to walk beside him again.
She pried herself away from the room, focusing on the corridor ahead. They’d walked another twenty feet before coming to an intersection. The air grew sour now, shifting from damp and dank, and she wrinkled her nose.
Elijah made a right and she followed.
“Are we going to get caught?”
“No,” he replied. “The patrols only come if a door is triggered.”
“Eli, who was the ‘she’ you were talking about?”
“Hm?”
She repeated her question. “One of the others like Russell. Who is she?”
“Oh," he said. “Meredith.”
“Who is Meredith?”
He stopped walking and she was forced to halt beside him. He looked down at the floor and then stared at her, his eyes distant. “Meredith is the Mother of Evil.”
“I don’t understand what that means,” she said.
“We’ve been at war for a few years now,” he told her. “At first, we were purging the city of those things. They ran at us, we killed them. They always took the bait. Predictable. Dumb. Then, one night, something changed.”
She leaned toward him. “What?”
“Ones like your friend, intelligent, capable of thought and speech, began to attack us. They planned their attacks. They set traps. We caught one and it spoke to us, laughed and spit at us.” He stared at the floor. “That was when my father realized that there were other, more malicious, more horrifying monsters out there in the city. Things we’d never seen before. Possessed abominations. They use the dumb ones as their shock troops. They don’t run at you. They stand there, and you meet their eyes. There’s something in those eyes. Something dark.”
“Maybe they were defending themselves, Eli," she said. “I’m not saying I agree with it, I’m just saying that you and your Purgers, you were out there killing them, yeah? Maybe they were fighting back.”
“Maybe,” he replied. “But they nearly wiped us out before we figured out their tricks. They were smarter than the shrieking demons. We had to adapt with them.”
“They evolved,” she whispered. “To survive.”
“No. They didn’t evolve," he said. “A new kind emerged, crawled out from their hiding places. Those who were tainted, those who didn’t die from the plague, became those things outside. And, a few of them, a very, very rare few, became something else. I’ve seen it with my own eyes, Kara. I have watched a recently woken demon rage at me for hours only to begin speaking, weeping, praying. Something else enters them and takes over. That is why they are the abominations.”
“It’s a different effect of the virus,” she breathed. “Russell told me, and I didn’t want to believe it. Some of them retain parts of who they were, or have it all come back.”
“And those are the things that attack us.”
She seemed lost in thought for a moment. “Eli, my friends were taken and I followed the trail to this city. The fort looked like it’d been attacked by the Infected, but it wasn’t a massacre. Everyone was just, gone. It didn’t make sense. Eli, do these things, these smart ones, do they take people?”
“They will take us if they can catch us,” he answered. “For what purpose, I am not sure. If they are the ones who took your friends, I am sorry. There is nothing you can do. But we can avenge them.”
She frowned. “What do you mean, avenge them?”
“Let me show you something. Come.” He turned back the way they’d come, ushering her over. When she looked at him with a confused expression on her face, Elijah beckoned to her again with a bit more enthusiasm.
She followed after him as he stalked over to a closed door on the right. He pushed it open, flicking a switch on the inside wall, near the door frame. The lights came on, one by one, buzzing to life on the ceiling. Crates were stacked wall to wall in the room, bundles of white packaging and burlap sacks filling each and every single one. The smell was bitter and stung her nose.
“What is this?” She stared at the contents of the room.
“Holy fire and faith,” he answered, his voice breathy. “The only way to cleanse the hive of the Mother of Evil.”
“Is that what I think it is?”
“Explosives. Hundreds and hundreds of pounds of explosives,” he whispered. “I will not call your friend an abomination anymore, but Meredith and her tribe are. They have committed unspeakable acts of evil against us, and it seems perhaps against you as well. You’ve seen the dumb ones, the shrieking demons. You haven’t seen the devil herself. You haven’t seen Meredith. If our plan works, you never will.”
“This hive, is this where they take people?” she asked.
“Yes. Down into the ground. In the heart of the city. The very center, where the tunnels go deep. Like worms in the cold earth. That's where she is. Her hive. Under the ground where the old beasts used to run, carrying souls to and from. They're down there, in the dark, under the city, in those tunnels. They're down there, plotting ways to kill us. We'll get them first.” He visibly shuddered. “So that’s what we’re going to do. All right. Come on.”
He shut the lights off and closed the door before striding off down the corridor. She moved after him, at his side within a few seconds. He walked with a renewed vigor, facing forward, his face drained of color. She cleared her throat, but had no words for him. They traveled, silent and staring ahead, until they reached a single, metal door.
The door was crooked, and Kara might not have noticed the defect if it weren’t for the chipped paint at the corner. He exhaled, stopping to stare at the door. He sighed before reaching for the handle and pulling the it open. The lights were dimmer on the other side, the landing uneven and made from cement. She stepped through and looked down at the stairwell leading deeper underground. The steps were concrete, uneven with a textured surface. The walls on either side were made from plaster, the decline of a ceiling lined with boards of lumber, strings of lights fixed to the center beam.
This section had been dug by hand. The smell wafting up was that of the Infected, but also the stink of burning meat. She raised her hand to her face, covering her nose and mouth like a shield.
“I’ll lead.” He closed the door, skirted around her on the landing, and began to descend the flight of steps. “Mind your step down here.”
She followed him down.
At the bottom of the stairs there was a small landing, no door to open. They simply stepped through into what looked to her to be a long, unfinished basement. The floor was concrete, hand laid, the walls a dingy plaster with wires and pipes fixed near the ceiling on the left side.
Like the stairwell, the ceiling consisted of boards of lumber, strings of lights running along the length of them down the twenty-foot-long, eight foot wide hallway. There was a closed, wooden door on the left. It was not lost on her that there were crosses drawn on the walls on both sides, or that what appeared to be excerpts from the bible were scrawled in random places to the left and right of her. There were also words in a language she didn’t recognize written near the ceiling.
He once again beckoned for her and they walked to the end of the hall, the corner turning left. A figure in black met them, the bird mask the first thing that she saw, followed by the familiar green stripes on the black frock. While she was surprised, Elijah seemed unconcerned.
“Brother, what is she doing here?” the man in the mask asked, and she recognized Simon’s voice. She studied him, her eyes narrowed. He wore his vestments, his hood up to hide the rest of his head. Simon wore black slacks with thin armor, his boots dull but flecked with something wet and shiny. His gloved hands hung at his sides and he clenched his fists. Simon was not as tall as Elijah, but he was taller than Kara. The bird mask moved back and forth between them several times.
“She wanted to see her friend,” Elijah told him. “I didn’t feel it was right to deny her.”
“Her friend?” Simon tilted his head. He chuckled behind the mask. “You mean the abomination? Really? Sickening. Why would you indulge that type of blasphemous folly? Especially with an outsider?”
She leaned forward. “Excuse me?”
Elijah lifted a hand, looking to her. He then turned back to Simon. “There is no reason to hide what we are, or what we do, from this woman, Brother. If she wants to see her friend, it is my duty to comply. It is from a place of purity, wicked as the monsters may be. Are we not her friends as well? She wishes to find closure and I will assist.”
“You are weak, that’s what it is.” Simon removed his mask, lowering it to his side. His dark eyes moved over Kara, his sweaty black hair clinging to his forehead. “Pretty girl makes for a weak man. I suppose you’ll let her wander anywhere if it will gain you favor.”
Elijah smiled. “If that is how you want to interpret my kindness, who am I to argue with you? I brought Kara down here to see her friend, to say goodbye. I know my intentions, brother, as I know myself. As you should know yourself.”
“Father will take your keys for this.” Simon pointed at Elijah with his free hand. “I hope you know that.”
“He’s never taken yours, has he?” Elijah asked.
“I’ve never brought outsiders down into the Cleansing Temple,” Simon said.
“I’ll take her to her friend, and then we will take our leave.” Elijah ushered Kara around Simon and he began to lead her down the hallway.
She scowled at Simon as she went by him, making sure that he saw her expression, and that their eyes met. Simon smirked at her, spinning on his heel to watch them as they carried on their way down the corridor. She didn’t care to continue their staring match and caught up with Elijah.
On the right, more religious symbols, words, and passages were scrawled on the wall. On the left, up ahead, she saw a six foot long, four foot tall window of impossibly thick glass. Cracks in the glass spread out like tiny spider webs, sharp against the darkness on the other side. The metal door was latched and locked from the outside. The smell of the Infected was strong here and she needed to cover her nose again.
“I wouldn’t take her in there,” Simon called after them, “It’s messy. Wouldn’t want her to get any of the taint on her, would you?”
Kara turned to glare at Simon. “What did you do to him?”
Simon shrugged, grinning. “I’m one of the Purifiers, little girl. What do you think I did?”
“Did you hurt him?” she yelled and felt Elijah’s hand on her shoulder, pulling her back as she moved to charge at Simon. “You son of a bitch!”
“You, you didn’t know my mother…” Simon stated, his eyes cold and unreadable. He pointed at Kara, shaking his finger back and forth. “If you ever say a word against her again-”
She bared her teeth at him. “What? What will you do?”
“Come on.” Elijah tugged at her shoulder and coerced her into facing away from Simon. His hand on the small of her back, he walked forward, bringing her with him. “He will be in the last room on the left.”
“Did he hurt him?” Kara asked Elijah. When he didn’t answer, she frowned and grabbed his arm. “What are you doing to him?”
“The souls of the afflicted are tainted with the evil that possesses them,” Elijah replied, his voice low. He continued to lead her down the hall, their steps matched. “His soul is being purified. Cleansed. It is a painful process, but necessary, to bring them peace.”
“You’re torturing him, that’s what you’re saying.” She shoved him away and then sprinted down the hallway, passing window after window, dark room after dark room, until she reached the last metal door in the hall.
There was a closed wooden door to the right, a cross hanging from the center of it, but she was not interested in examining the words above that doorway. She was looking at the dimly lit room behind the thick glass, the last room on the left. She pressed her hands to her mouth.
Elijah stepped up beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Her eyes drifted over the pale, shirtless man cuffed to the wall directly across from the window. His face hung down, his body limp and lifeless, skin covered in burns, bleeding wounds, and gashes. Symbols had been carved into his flesh. That was the body of a Wailer, muscular and strong. But that was also Russell, his dirty blonde hair mussed and stained with blood.
The room on the other side of the glass wasn’t that big, perhaps fifteen by ten feet, the walls dingy gray with flecks of deep crimson and black. She looked at the floor, the red and black spatters more prolific on the concrete. The metal table to the left of Russell displayed various knives and instruments, one of which she recognized as a flashlight, and another as a Bunsen burner. Russell’s jacket was on the floor in a crumpled heap, and what was presumably his shirt was wadded up into a ball nearby. They’d left his boots on him, as well as his pants. Black drool leaked from his mouth.
“Russ.” She placed her palm to the window.
Elijah bent to her ear. “I know it looks cruel-”
“Because it is!” She spun on him, and then turned to look through the window again. “This is my fault.”
“His peace will come,” he whispered.
“I've killed us both...”
“Please don't say that.”
She glanced down the hall, saw that Simon had gone, and then stared at Elijah. “Let him go. Please. You have the power, Eli. I know you care. You can let us both go.”
“I cannot," he said. “I am so sorry, Kara.”
“Are you a Purifier, like your brother?”
“I am. I mean, I was. But Simon has a certain, ah, affinity for it,” he answered, looking down. “He enjoys it, and I don’t. That’s as simple as it is. The rituals are what they are, distasteful as I find them.”
She crossed her arms, hugging herself. “So you do think it’s cruel.”
“If you wanted to say anything to him, now would be the time,” he told her. “I don’t know if he can hear you, if he is awake or not. If he is, he can hear through the glass. I won’t take you into the room.”
“Are you afraid he’ll tear the cuffs right off?”
“He’s too weak for that, he hasn’t fed since last night, he might not even make it another day. He’ll die of starvation first,” Elijah said. “I don’t want to risk the contamination is all.”
She grimaced, running her hands
along the glass. She thought she could see Russell breathing, his chest rising and falling as he hung there. She pressed her forehead to the glass, closing her eyes.
“If you can hear me, Russell, I’m sorry," she said. “I’ll get you out of here. I’ll find a way.”
“Kara…” Elijah said, his voice soft.
“You saved me twice. I owe you,” she continued. “I won’t let you die in here.”
She opened her eyes, hoping to see a reaction from the man hanging on the wall, some sign that Russell had heard her and understood. Nothing had happened, his head still down and his eyes closed.
She swallowed thickly, backing away from the window, hands at her sides. She looked to Elijah and saw him watching her, his brows furrowed. He reached out to her, moved in, and hugged her. She placed her hands on his back.
“We should go back up now,” Elijah said.
“I need to lie down,” she whispered. “I don’t feel so well.”
She accompanied Elijah down the hall, to the stairwell. They walked together, not a word exchanged between them as they made their way back upstairs.
Kara was curled up on the bed in her little room when a knock roused her from a daydream. She answered after shuffling over to stand on the other side of the closed door. “Who is it?”
“Eli. Are you feeling better?”
“A little,” she replied.
“Did you want to accompany me to the service?”
She exhaled, rolling her shoulders and then opening the door. She saw that he had changed clothing and was wearing his gray striped frock. She shook her head at him, offering a patient smile. “I’ve never been the religious type. Sorry.”
“You don’t need to be religious. I just thought it would amuse you to watch me stand at the front of the church and perform menial tasks for the next hour.” His smile was warm, inviting and he shrugged at her. “My father wanted me to bring you along, to witness his sermon. But I’d prefer you come as my guest.”
She leaned on the door frame, scanning his face with her hazel eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t think I’d be welcome. I’m an outsider, remember?”