by Burgy, P. J.
She rushed down the hall to the door at the end and opened it, making her way down the steps to the corridor below. She ran past the writing on the walls, and then veering left. She found his room quickly, looking in through the glass, her palms pressed to the window.
Russell hung there, burned and limp, his jaw covered in bright, red blood. She frowned at how much blood she saw; his chest was covered, as was the cement floor under him. Yet, he was breathing, she could see that. And, when she said his name, low, under her breath, his eyes opened and focused on her.
His eyes were those of a Wailer, maroon red with huge, black voids that tracked her movements on the other side of the glass. Kara swallowed, watching him as he shifted in his chains and tried to get his footing, his boots slipping in the slippery viscera around his feet. He didn't look enraged, his eyes weren't glazed with the mindless hunger of one of the Infected. His brows furrowed, his lips parted, and he drooled black bile.
She forced the door open and retched at the smell of him. Holding the crook of her arm to her face, she gagged. “Russell.”
“Stay back. Please.”
“I'm going to get you out of here.” She searched around the room for something to release the cuffs holding his wrists above his head. The metal table on the left, covered in awful looking instruments, offered nothing. She saw chunks of flesh on the floor, some bits of red stained fluff strewn about near his feet.
“You'll get Infected. Please," he said.
She looked at him and saw how tightly his jaw clenched right before he spit up bile, seemingly unable to control the reflex. His dirty blonde hair was crusty with dried blood. He shook his head at her, closing his eyes. Briefly, he tried to strain in his bonds, his thick muscles coiling under his pale skin, the black veins just under the surface pushing up slightly. He went limp a moment later, head down and chest heaving.
“Just hold on,” she told him, continuing to look around the room. She found a cabinet to the right, out of the sight from the window, and opened it, finding a few black frocks hanging there, along with some thick, rubber gloves. “Russell, why didn't you tell me what you were?”
She heard a choking laugh behind her.
“I mean it. Why didn't you tell me?” she asked, finding nothing and turning around to look at him. He grinned, the expression lopsided and inappropriate. She stiffened.
“What, what would you have done?” he asked. “You wouldn't have believed me, and when I did prove it, you would have hacked me, hacked me to death with your knife. Maybe I should have…”
“I don't know, I don't think I'd have done that," she said, staring at him. “Is there a key anywhere, Russ? How did they get you in those?”
“The key isn't going to be in the same room with me, Kara.” He sneered, his teeth bared. He cleared his throat, trying to suck back black drool before speaking again. “He's got the keys. The son of a bitch who comes in here.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he showed me. Asked me what I'd do if he uncuffed me,” he answered, pulling against the chains again. “I told him. He didn't like it.”
“That asshole," she said. “I've got to get the keys from him.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I have to.”
“No, you don't,” he said. “Look at me. I'm one of those things. One of those mindless things you hate so much. Just leave me. It's better this way.”
Her mouth grew dry. “I've never met a thing, a person, like you. You saved me, twice. And, I can't... I can't just leave you to die here. Not when it's my fault.”
He strained, lifting his head, eyes focused on the hallway. Then, his head tilted.
She frowned. “What?”
He looked over at her. “They're coming.”
“Shit.” She ran to the door, peered around the corner, and, when she saw nothing, she pushed the door open. Sparing a glance back at Russell, she grimaced. “I'll get you out. I promise. Just hold on.”
He grunted weakly. “Sure.”
She ignored the tone in his response, her eyes moving across the hall again. The door facing Russell's room had the word “INCINERATOR” on a plaque. Hearing footsteps getting closer, she dove across the hall and tested the door. Finding it unlocked, she went inside, closing it behind her. It smelled bad, like scorched meat. She turned on the light to get a quick look around and found some boxes next to a massive furnace. She turned the light back off and crawled to the boxes, hiding behind them and getting as small as she could, hugging her legs.
She waited there, the sound of her pulse in her ears. She controlled her breathing, the smell of burnt flesh and hair stinging her nostrils.
The footsteps stopped just outside of the door, and she heard voices. One male, one female. She heard the metal door of Russell's room opening. The male voice came again, and then a terrible clanging of chains. The metal door slammed shut and the female voice, this one more audible, comforted the male.
The door to Kara's hiding spot opened up and the lights flicked on.
“Awful thing,” the man said. “Tried to lunge at me. Did you see that?”
“Beastly. I don't know why they bother to cleanse them. Just kill it, I say,” the woman muttered.
“All souls deserve to be reunited with the Heavenly Father. He was a man once,” the man said. “Whatever he is now, he was once a man. Still. Did you see its eyes? Such hate.”
“Maybe it triggered the door itself?”
“No, you saw the elevator. Someone is down here.” The man sighed. “Probably the outsider. The thing's companion.”
The sound of their feet on the floor came closer. Kara tensed. From the corner of her eye she could see the back of a boot as it came into her view.
“Do you think she... laid down with it?” the woman asked.
Kara rolled her eyes.
“She'd have been possessed if she had. No. But that doesn't mean she isn't working with it,” The man said. “We'll check the other rooms. She can't have gotten far. Nowhere else to go.”
Kara grimaced as the light went off and the door closed.
She waited another few minutes before cracking the door open and peeking down the hall. It was clear, and so she stepped out quietly. She could see Russell on the other side of the glass, his head down again and his eyes closed. She considered tapping on the window to get his attention but thought it unwise at the moment.
Instead, she sneaked down the hall, pausing to listen every few steps. To her surprise, the corridor was empty leading to the door. It would be foolish to assume that there wouldn't be a guard somewhere, and so she crept through the door and up the stairs.
The generators hummed gently as she reached the next level. She walked along, checking the rooms on either side of the hall until she reached the elevator shaft. It was still open, which caused her some confusion.
She realized they'd be waiting for her on the second floor. With that in mind, as she began to climb up she kept to the left side and prepared to continue on past the second floor.
As the light from the floor up shined in from the open doors, she did her best to stick to the side, to not be seen if someone were waiting out there for her to emerge from the darkness. It was difficult, but she managed to make her way to the third floor, floundering in the darkness for the door. It was especially challenging to get a grip and leverage the shovel with the little bit of support she had under her feet.
The door opened as she wedged the trowel in and wiggled it back and forth. With enough room to get her fingers through, she pushed the elevator doors open and saw the third floor before her. Body aching, she almost fell into the corridor. After a moment, she headed to the stairwell, opened the door and was met with a young, blonde woman with hateful, burning green eyes.
“Found you,” Melanie said.
“Oh? Were you looking for me?” Kara asked, entering the stairwell. “Back off. I was exploring.”
“I bet you were, outsider.” Melanie grabbed
at Kara, and the two wrestled for a few, short moments. Kara easily overpowered the other woman, kicking her hard in the side of her knee and then punching her in the face. Melanie hadn't seen it coming, and was on the ground before she could land one hit on Kara.
“Get your hands off of me, bitch.” Kara backed away to the steps, but met with a big, brawny man waiting for her. “She attacked me first. What?”
“You'll be coming with us,” The man said. “What you've done won't stand.”
“I haven't done anything.” Kara walked down the steps toward the huge brick wall of a man blocking her way, hearing Melanie moaning on the landing behind her.
“You've beaten my sister, for one,” The man said, and he wrapped his beefy hand around Kara's upper arm. He was not as easy to get away from, and though Kara kicked at him and pulled he did not release her. “You've visited the abomination, and killed one of our lambs to feed to it. You will be brought to Father Isaac for your crimes when he arrives back at Salvation.”
“What? I didn't do that.” Kara tried to yank herself out of the man's grip. “I was just walking around. I didn't kill your sheep. What are you talking about?”
“One of the lambs is gone, and there is blood and fur in the thing's cell. And you were just there,” The big man said, his eyes scouring Kara's face. “You will come with us now.”
“You can't prove anything!” Kara hissed, struggling as her dragged her down the stairs. She turned back to see Melanie limping behind them, the blonde woman's eyes flames of rage. “Let go of me!”
Kara continued to struggle all of the way to their destination. The office was big, with long tables and bureaus covered in candles. The big, burly man threw on the lights overhead, dragging Kara over to the corner of the room to where she could see a large wooden chest.
She put up a good fight but ended up being shoved in, the top coming down and drowning her in darkness. She heard him lock it and all of her violent kicking would not free her.
Hours had passed when Father Isaac's silhouette appeared in the blinding light, the top of the chest opened up. Kara gagged on the scent of cedar and tried to pull herself out only to be held down by a strong, massive hand. Two figures stood above her.
“Kara…” Father Isaac said.
“Whatever they said, they're lying,” Kara breathed, eyes adjusting. Father Isaac's disappointment was etched into his tired face, his gaze drifting over her. She sighed, slumping back into the chest. The other person in the room was an older man, perhaps one of the guards from the front lobby. He stared at her with cold, lifeless eyes. “Okay, I went to visit him, yeah. I'm sorry. But that's all I did.”
“Kara, why would you do that?” Father Isaac's brows lowered, his lips parting. “What you've done, the laws you have broken in Salvation. You have betrayed my trust. You might have been exposed, tainted by that thing. You were in the room with it, Kara. We will have to watch you now! You killed one of our lambs and fed it to the abomination. How could you do this?”
“I didn't kill that lamb,” Kara said. “I went to see him because you have him chained to a fucking wall and your son is torturing him. I went to see him because he saved me. You don't understand.”
Father Isaac reached down to his pocket and produced something Kara recognized. It was her angel pin. Her eyes flashed, her mouth opened.
“Where did you-” Kara began.
“It was found in the elevator shaft,” Father Isaac told her, looking over the pin, his thumb running across the smooth, metallic surface. “Where did you get this, Kara?”
“From my father. Please give it back.”
“Kenneth, leave me with her,” Father Isaac said to the other man, who left the room.
She took a moment to look around the room again. There hadn't been much time to earlier, as she was dragged in and thrown into the chest. Her eyes went back to Father Isaac, and she saw that he was staring at her.
“Your father was a war hero,” Father Isaac stated.
“Is.”
Father Isaac chuckled softly, sadly. “There was a world before this one, you know. Not a better world, but a different one, with different demons, different dangers. Your father was a hero in that world, Kara. I will not deprive you of his gift, my heart would break. That is how much you mean to me, my child. I see so much potential, so much strength in you. But I cannot forgive you so easily for what you've done.”
“What you think I've done-”
“I cannot listen to your lies,” Father Isaac cut her off. He rolled the pin around between his fingers before he handed it back to her. “You will be punished.”
“Punished?” Kara scowled and placed the pin back into her pocket. “Father Isaac, listen-”
“Those who break the laws are punished, Kara. It does not change your fate or alter the agreement. I'd given you three days, and you will be given your last one, as is fair, even if you turn out to be sick. You will be punished though, for killing the lamb and bringing it to the damned one,” Father Isaac said, his tone low. He struggled to look at her, his eyes moving across her face.
“But I didn't!” Kara cried out.
“Tomorrow morning, you will be punished. On the morning of your fourth day, you will be asked to make your choice,” Father Isaac said.
“What, but I-”
Father Isaac called out and Kenneth reentered. With a nod from Father Isaac, Kenneth rushed to Kara, forcing her down and back into the chest, slamming it shut on her once again. The darkness enveloping her again, Kara began to scream and kick.
She screamed and kicked for almost the entire night.
The morning came, and Kara was stiff when they pulled her from the box. She didn't look at the faces of the Purgers who came for her, though she knew she would probably recognize more than one of them. She put up little struggle as they dragged her out of the office and into the hall. Then they pulled her into a different little room and began to forcibly strip her of her clothing.
She screamed out, kicking, trying to scratch them, trying to punch or bite. It was useless, and she was restrained. A new, white, flowing garment was placed onto her body and she was brought out of the room, her anger and indignation fueling her as she attempted to escape. They'd thrown a white robe on her, like an acolyte, and dragged her down a long hall.
She was brought into their church, down the aisle between the pews, her captors gripping her arms. The room was packed with them, the Purgers, all of them, standing in wait for her arrival. Father Isaac waited there, near his podium, standing silently next to a large halved barrel. The closer she got, the better she could see it. Kara saw the water in the barrel and looked around, confused.
Elijah was on the stage, his eyes wet, but his cheeks dry. Simon was close by for sure, but she couldn't spot him as she swung her head around, eyes wildly scanning the chapel. She saw their faces, rapt and eager. Father Isaac's flock wore their hunting garments, and some held candles aloft.
“Let me go!” Kara screamed at them.
“My child,” Father Isaac said.
She was brought before him and continued to fight, struggling in the grips of her captors. She could feel them squeezing, tightening their grasp on her arms.
Father Isaac approached her, his expression unreadable, and he touched her forehead, his fingers in her hair. He looked at her with eyes that suddenly became sad, lost, unfocused. After a breath passed from his parted lips, a new light entered his face.
“You will be brought over to us. But first, you must be cleansed of your sins,” Father Isaac spoke, and he indicated to the barrel of water with one of his hands.
The Purgers dragged Kara over to it, forcing her to kneel, her face close to the water. She could see down to the bottom of the barrel, and she felt that she knew what was about to happen.
“Take a deep breath.” It was Elijah's voice, quiet, from close by. He came up beside one of the men holding her and, after a quick exchange, replaced him. Elijah was strong, but he didn't squeeze her arm or sh
oulder too hard. He kept a firm pressure on the back of her neck then, his fingers curling around her throat. “I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.”
“Eli,” she whispered.
Then, he shoved her face into the barrel of water.
Father Isaac was shouting, calling out passages from his book, or from his mind. His words were muddied and hard to make out from inside of the barrel.
She remembered swimming the lake at Blue Lagoon. Diving down to the deepest parts, where the light didn't reach and the cold, cold water nipped at her fingertips and her toes. Kara held her breath for as long as she could, longer than they'd expected she wagered, before her lungs began to burn for want of air. They didn't let her up. Only when she began to convulse and kick, gagging on water, did they pull her back out so she might gasp.
Elijah pushed her back down into the water.
She remembered swimming down into the depths, where the sun still filtered in through the surface of the water and the light played on the stones below. This was another time, not a memory from Blue Lagoon, but a place equally as beautiful.
They were at a different lake, stopping during the day to gather water. The Bella was parked nearby and Gencho was there, looking out at the water. She had swum down and found something, something from the old world, shining in the rocks. Her fingers had wrapped around a glass bottle, something green and clear. She'd brought it up with her and stomped onto shore to show Renshen. How old had she been? A child. She brought it to him and he had a laugh, looking it over and explaining to Kara how she'd found a beer bottle.
The world was fading, water rushing into her throat.
Again, she was brought up to gasp for air.
She could hear Elijah's voice, pleading quietly, whispering.
Down into the water.
It was dark. Damp.
The rushing sound of churning water turned to the wet crunching of bone and the slipping of loose flesh against teeth. Kara could hear them eating from where she hid under the sink. They were moving around in the kitchen, making their terrible gurgling and whimpering noises.