by Mark Ayre
Trey did not expect he’d be told off. His father would make the problem disappear and send Vicious to visit a biblical punishment upon his son. No one would speak to the boy to make him understand why what he had done was wrong. Trey had an inbuilt sense of right and wrong that was not inherent in the Michaels family. Nor would anyone check if he was okay. Despite years of experience, isolation did not agree with him.
When his door opened later on brick beating day, Trey was surprised to find not Vicious, but a blank-faced butler staring at him. The butler bade him follow, and led Trey into a wing of the mansion he had rarely if ever visited.
In a bungalow sized bedroom, at a paddling pool sized mirror, Olivia Michaels applied her makeup. When the servant arrived with the son, she waved the former away and instructed the latter to sit.
“I received a call from the school today,” she said, without looking back or even examining Trey in the mirror. “When they told me my son had hit a boy with a brick, I sighed and told them I would be sure to reprimand Carl.” Her eyes flicked to meet Trey’s through the reflective surface. “Imagine my surprise to learn I was thinking of the wrong son.”
Olivia continued applying makeup. Her eyes left her son and did not return. For a long time, she didn’t speak. Trey didn’t intend to. Not to this stranger of a mother.
At last, Olivia finished and turned from the mirror. She was wearing a stunning, elegant dress which was fitting, seeing as she was a stunning, elegent woman.
“You are surprised to be here, no doubt,” she said, facing her son from across the room. “You’re unaccustomed to seeing me because I’m not maternal. I find it much easier to love you if I don’t have to deal with you. That sounds harsh, I’m sure, but at least I’ll never send a brute to beat you.”
Nor intervene to stop my father doing so, Trey had thought. His head bowed, he had remained silent.
Olivia watched him, then crossed the room, cupped his chin. Forced him to look her in the eye.
“Though I never wanted to be a mother, I find myself worrying about you, Trey. You occupy my thoughts, did you know that? Of course you didn’t, how could you? But I do.” She let go of his chin but held his eye. “Beth will be exceptional. She will carve out a place for herself in this world, dominate it because that’s who she is. Unlike me, she will not have to marry into wealth. She will create it.”
She glanced around the room, as though searching for photos of her children. There were none. Trey was almost surprised she had recognised him. Perhaps she took it on faith the servant would bring her the right person.
“Carl is too stupid to be unhappy,” she continued. “He will work for his father. He will be unexceptional but wealthy.”
Trey had been too afraid to drop his head. When his mother looked back, their eyes locked again.
“You can be miserable your entire life, Trey,” said Olivia. “While under this roof, you will suffer endlessly. You will be miserable at school. Vicious will continue to beat you, and there is nowhere you can turn for help. I thought I could be okay with that, but I worry. It’s frustrating, but I worry.”
Olivia left her son and went to her jewellery box. Collecting two stud earrings and a necklace she returned to Trey putting the earrings in first. Then she sat and handed him the necklace.
“Put this on me, will you? It’s a little fiddly, but with your child's fingers I daresay you’ll manage.”
Trey was not sure he would. His hands were shaking. In front of him, his mother held her hair and waited patiently. Afraid she would yell if he didn’t hurry, he unclasped the neckless and brought it around her front. As though he were playing operation, he tried to bring the clasp together without touching his mother's skin.
“If we make contact, Trey, you won’t turn to stone. Come on, don’t catch my skin in the clasp and all will be well.”
Trey did as asked, his fingers brushing his mother's neck as he brought the two sections of the necklace together and tried to connect them.
“I was telling you how I worried,” Olivia said as he worked. “You’re going to have a rough childhood. I’m afraid you just have to accept that. But, if you can get through it, and get out of here, you can do okay. It won’t be too late.”
The clasp caught and Trey released the necklace with a sigh of relief. His mother touched it to ensure it was secure then faced him.
“See, easy.” From the sofa, she collected her clutch bag. “I have to go out. Dinner party, you know, but listen. Forget about the brick thing. Your father will fix it. Forget about your childhood. You will always be unhappy here but adulthood… that’s another matter. Trey, as soon as you can, you get out of here. You’ll never have a chance to be exceptional, and you’ll never change the world, but that doesn’t mean you won’t be happy.”
On her way out the door she kissed Trey for the first time in his memory, then she was gone.
The next time she kissed him would be the day she surrendered body and soul to an evil monster. By choice. Once before that action, once after.
In a tent, on a field, Trey sat on a chair and watched Olivia’s body flip the flap and walk inside.
On the cusp of a fortune she had for so long craved, why had Olivia surrendered her life to this beast?
Remembering what she had said about being exceptional, he thought he knew. He had believed his mother cared about money, fun and nothing else, but what if he was wrong? What if embarcing possession was her way of becoming exceptional; of changing the world? She had told Trey he couldn’t do it, had she believed the same about herself?
In the end, she thought she could only change the world by sacrificing her life.
Trey would do the same, but change it for the better.
Trey would ensure she was wrong about him.
Beyond the flap, he saw the sign which indicated the field was hired out for the day. Like a colony of ants, the infected crowd worked in silence and harmony on the open area, determined to fulfil the specifications of their queen as quickly and efficiently as possible.
Little was needed. So long as they were under the sun’s rays, they were in pain. For their master, it was a pain they were willing to endure. But she was a kind God, she wanted them to be comfortable. They hoisted the marquee not because she needed it, but because she cared.
In a smaller tent, put up before the rest, a doctor had put Trey’s arms in casts.
Through Olivia’s lips, Heidi said, “How do you feel?”
“Like I’m going to be exceptional. Like I’m going to change the world.”
“Oh yes, and how will you do that?”
“By killing a monster. By killing you. Even if it kills me.”
“Which it would,” said Heidi. Rolling her eyes, she came to him. “Do you begrudge a man who murders a spider which has wandered into his home? No, because the spider is insignificant. Its power, in comparison to man, is nothing.”
“The spider has entered the man’s home,” said Trey. “That’s why he kills it. I’m not saying that’s right, but the situation is different. You’re the intruder who breaks into someone else’s home and kills them.”
“That’s a good point,” said Heidi. “For thousands of years, we have coveted your land. You are pitful creatures, but you have the numbers. You hold us at bay. But your comparison doesn’t exactly work. The earth is not a home, and you are not the homeowner. The Earth is a living being. You are a virus. You grow, and you spread, and your infection becomes more and more powerful and, unable to fight you, the planet is dying.”
Heidi moved the flap of the tent and looked across the field to the line of trees.
Pointing to the green of the leaves, she said, “This place is beautiful. Look what you’ve done,” she turned to the grey of the road. “You stole its beauty. Now you suffocate it by burning its precious resources. You take it for granted, do you realise that?”
Trey said nothing. He was feeling the casts. The arms ached beneath them, but that wasn’t the problem. He had no
mobility. He hadn’t stood a chance against Heidi before. Now, he stood less than no chance.
“I come from a hellish place,” Heidi continued. “Fire and torment. Eternal pain. While you ruin your home, our home ruins us. For untold aeons our master has sent us to this world with instructions to bring the rest of us through. We promise to do so. Then we arrive, and we see humanity, and what you’ve done, and we fill with rage, and we cannot help but destroy. So we forget our mission, and eventually, your numbers spell our end. The only blessing is we cannot return home. If we did, the torment to which we had become accustomed would be nothing compared to what our master would visit upon us.”
Letting the flap fall Heidi swept across the grass and placed her hands on Trey, looking into his eyes.
“I have not forgotten, and today, I will do what no one before has managed. I will raise my lord, and in her wake will come the rest of us.” She kissed Trey on the head. “Most of humanity will fall. Some will be lucky. Will remain as our devoted slaves. Some will be very lucky and will be blessed with occupation. As you brought me into this world, I have decided to reward you.”
“If you’re thinking of putting a demon in me,” said Trey. “I’d sooner die.”
“Worry not, sweetheart. There’s no demon for you. Your blood will become enchanted. You will become a devoted slave.”
Trey laughed. A flash of anger passed across Heidi’s eyes but vanished in a second. Smiling, she released his shoulders.
“And what is funny?”
“You sicken me so much that, even in Mercury’s body, I would never have succumbed willingly to the infection. But in my mother’s body, you have to be kidding?”
Now Heidi joined in the laughter, which unsettled Trey.
“You will not be my devotee but my master’s. When she rises, I will present you to her. No matter how disgusted you might believe you are by our kind, her power is like nothing you have ever felt, and you will be unable to resist. You will become her plaything and, so devoted will you be, if she asks, you will become mine as well, just to please her.”
Horror rippling through him, he shook his head. “I raised you. For each of your actions, I am partially responsible. Rest assured, I’ll kill you, or I’ll die trying. No matter what it takes.”
“Wrong.”
Heidi grabbed his chin and tilted his head up until his eyes were in his mother’s. She smiled at him.
“Your last chance to kill me was earlier today, and you blew it. Later today, you’ll come to me again, and I guarantee you, thoughts of murder will not cross your mind.”
She leaned in until their faces were inches apart.
“You’ll never be exceptional but later, darling, you will give mummy a kiss.”
Forty-Eight
At Will’s chosen safehouse, a fight broke out between father and daughter.
Fearing for her mother and Xyla, guilty about the latter, it wasn’t that Edie didn’t want Will to go. He went with her blessing, so long as she could come.
“But you can’t. You know you can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re a child.”
Too late, he bit his tongue. Frustration had led to him breaking the cardinal rule: never refer to a teenager as a child. She looked as though he’d slapped her.
In the back, Liz rested against the window and observed without comment, as though conducting a parental assessment.
In the front passenger seat, Edie folded her arms in that belligerent teenage way. As adolescents went, she was great. Not prone to spells of unexplained misery, nor tantrums and shouting I hate you at the top of her lungs. She had never accused her parents of ruining her life. She didn’t stay out late. Did all her homework. If she did drugs or smoked cigarettes, Will and Gina never knew.
There were some teenage traits no child escaped. A spot on her nose had once brought Edie to tears. More than once, she had expressed her hatred of being called a child.
“I understand why you want to help,” said Will. “You’re such a good…” he paused before he could say “kid”. “Person. You want to save Xyla and get back your mum, but it’s dangerous, and I can’t risk losing you. Edie, it would break me.”
“What if I lose you?” Her eyes were welling with tears. “Don’t you understand that would break me? I don’t want to be an orphan.”
Because he had to be strong for her, Will held the tears as he touched her cheek.
“I’m coming back,” he said. “I would never leave you. I’m going to do everything I can to save your mother, but I need you, for me, to do as I say and stay with Stacey. Please, Edie, please don’t make this any harder.”
Edie held on a little longer. Emotion bubbled within. She struggled to keep it down. She wanted to argue, to fight. Intuitive girl that she was, perhaps she saw how difficult this was for her father, how he hated forcing her. In any case, she threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek.
“I love you, daddy. Please come home.”
“I love you too, and I will.”
He watched her flee the car and run down the path. He watched as she was allowed into her friend's house. He waved as she disappeared inside and closed the door. He felt sick with guilt putting more bystanders in danger but could see no other way to keep his daughter safe.
From the back, Liz watched him; could no doubt see the tears in his eyes.
“This will be when you make some snide, sarcastic remark I suppose,” he said.
Liz seemed to consider. She said, “If it kills me, I’ll make sure you get back to your daughter. You have my word.”
Will didn’t know what to do with that. Holding tears, he nodded what was supposed to be a Thank you.
“Come on,” said Liz, at last. “Let’s go save a baby.”
The roads were quiet. Most people were at work or in Heidi’s private army. Ten minutes after leaving Edie they pulled through a rusting gate and into a small patch of fenced off land on the edge of the woods. There was room for ten cars, but when they arrived, they shared the space with only one vehicle. A dirt-crusted truck that had seen better days.
“How big is this place?” said Liz as they stepped from the car.
Beside her, Will shielded his eyes and stared over the treetops. It was going to be a beautiful day. On many previous beautiful days, and several not so beautiful ones, Will and Gina had brought Edie here for walks, the idea of which she always claimed to loathe. There had been much laughter along these covered paths.
Liz put a hand on Will’s shoulder. When he looked back, he sensed she was about to say something comforting.
“Not big,” he said. “It shouldn’t be hard to find them.”
Before she could say anything, he threw off her arm and plunged into the woods.
Liz followed. The woods offered several crisscrossing paths and plenty of off-path areas of brambles and fallen leaves. Though the woods were not extensive, there was no obvious way to search it systematically. Though it would be inefficient, Will decided to walk at random, hoping he would hear Xyla and her captors.
For several minutes, they heard nothing but the wind through the trees and occasional cracking of a branch beneath their feet.
Liz moved beside Will. Both held their silence. They kept a couple of metres apart, as though part of a line of searchers, rather than a duo. Will wondered who Liz was. Mercury and Amira were best friends. Liz seemed peripheral to their bond. Had he not been keeping quiet to listen, he might have asked.
The woods remained still. Will remembered a months old Edie. He and Gina lived in a run of terrace housing, and when Edie got to screaming, they would be terrified the neighbours could hear. That they would have grumbling men and women banging on the door, demanding they shut their baby up; accusing them of being awful parents.
Irrational fears. Gina’s mother told them your baby sounds far louder to you than to anyone else. It’s evolutionary. Will did not know if that were true, but now he thought on it, no baby had ever seeme
d so loud as Edie. He doubted she was unique in the volume department so maybe it was. Perhaps if someone had kidnapped baby Edie, Will would have been able to hear her in a way he could not Xyla.
That, of course, was when she started to scream.
“Do you hear that?” said Liz.
They stopped. In the sway of the breeze, they listened. For a few seconds, there was nothing. Then, the noise came again.
In no doubt to what it was, Will started running, Liz hot on his heels. The baby’s wail continued and didn’t seem to be stopping. It drew them nearer and nearer, now sure they were on the right path. Xyla called to them until—
They came off a trail and through a thicket. Out the other side, the trees grew close but not as close as in other parts of the woods. Ahead, they saw Xyla nestled in the hands of one of Yassin’s converts. Over her shoulder, one of Heidi’s devotees stood, arms folded. Both Will and Liz ignored him to look at her.
Liz sighed. “Of course.”
With wide, sad eyes, Gina clutched Xyla tighter and put a hand on the crying baby’s chin. Like Xyla, Gina looked ready to cry.
“I committed myself to the Gods,” she said to Will. “Because of you, they question my faith.”
Will wanted to reason with his wife but the words caught in his throat. Liz stepped forward and took over.
“Give us the baby.”
“No.” Gina looked back at Will. “I told you there was no one I wouldn’t kill for the Gods except you or Edie.”
She sighed, heavily, gripped the baby a little tighter.
“Now, I have to prove it.”
Forty-Nine
“We get there in time, it should be easy enough to stop them. For this to work, they got to have enough people, right? So, we start scything them down. It is high risk. A couple of splashes of blood and we’re finished, but we destroy a few, and we might ruin her plan. Even if she had contingency, she can’t have many more than 50 followers. We could finish this taking four out each. Of course, we have to do it before Heidi gets to us and are you even listening?”