by Platt, Sean
Desmond was working on some urgent business or another. Mary sat with Paola by her side, and what she’d come to regard as her new family: Brent, Ben, Jade, Teagan, and Becca.
She tried to focus on Paola and her table, but couldn’t ignore stares that screamed, You don’t belong here.
Mary was used to living in places she didn’t belong. She had lived among blue bloods behind a gate in Warson Woods, a single mom making her living as an artist — a dubious job judging from regular neighborhood stares. Yet Mary had managed to make a few friends and find her tribe, including Desmond.
She’d do the same here in time, she hoped, though making friends on Black Island seemed an even taller task than it had in Warson Woods. She wasn’t sure if the island wives’ looks were because they were civilians and civilians were never welcome, or if people hated them for another reason.
Mary was reasonably certain that the island’s inhabitants, save for a few, were jealous of the speed in which Desmond claimed his position of power. He was officially an advisor at the facility, but it was clear that Director Bolton, the man in charge, greatly respected his advice.
Desmond came from the other world and convinced them of the alien threat, and the importance of finding the vials. He persuaded them to let Ed Keenan help, even though the man was considered a traitor before they’d discovered Sullivan’s infection. Desmond had brought Paola, a child, to help them find the vials.
Their search had yet to bear fruit. Mary could feel a certain contingent hoping it wouldn’t, praying for their failure and a return to the way things were before. Back before the world seemed less certain, when they still had their defined roles and niblets of power.
Desmond didn’t get involved in such politics nor did he bitch about these things to Mary. While she had heard nothing directly, she wasn’t stupid. Mary knew what welcome felt like, and this wasn’t it.
She sat at her table, trying to make the best of things.
Jade, sitting to her left, leaned in.
“You getting the same vibe I am?”
“What’s that?” Mary wondered if her discomfort was obvious.
“These people freaking hate us,” Jade said just above a whisper. “Look how they’re looking at us. Check out that redheaded over there giving us the stink eye. Yeah, fuck you, too, lady.”
Mary laughed as the woman turned. She was a good six tables away, so there was no way she heard Jade, but it was funny to imagine she had.
Jade Keenan, a young college girl with purple hair and a pierced eyebrow, looked like she was comfortable as the black sheep. She was sweet once you got to know her, despite her don’t-fuck-with-me attitude. From their few exchanges, Mary could tell that things were strained between Jade and her father.
“Yeah,” Mary said, “I was thinking the same thing.”
“I think they’re jealous.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, look at ‘em, they’re all military and scientists used to running the show. But we all showed up and are more or less doing it now. They fucking hate us. We upset their stupid Stepford utopia.”
Mary laughed again, this time loud enough to draw attention from the nearby attendees.
Jade was right. The men, along with the few female scientists at the island, were all dressed as if on their way to work, and the wives as if going to church. Mary had on a loose blouse and tight jeans, which felt only slightly better than Jade’s ripped leather pants and black Misfits tee.
Teagan, in her staid blue dress, might have fit in with the island’s people if she hadn’t been a teen mom.
Brent leaned over. “What are you two laughing about?”
“Laughing at the sheep here,” Jade said, making a “bah” sound loud enough for others to hear.
“What sheep?” Ben asked, looking around like the innocent five-year-old he was, searching for literal sheep.
“There’s no sheep, buddy,” Brent said laughing.
“Why did Aunt Jade say to look at the sheep?”
Mary laughed as Ben’s volume got louder and Brent’s face turned red, trying to hush his son and deflect attention.
“She’s just joking,” Brent said to Ben.
Ben looked at Jade. “Aren’t jokes supposed to be funny?”
“Ouch,” Jade said, “schooled by a five-year-old.”
“I’m five and a half!” Ben said, outraged that someone would dare to snip months from his age.
Mary smiled, remembering when Paola was that age and how she’d wanted nothing more than to be older than she was. Now, following everything that had happened she seemed content to be herself: perhaps the single good thing to have come of the past two years.
Mary watched as Paola pinched Ben’s cheeks and acted normal.
Normal was good.
Hell, normal was great.
But Mary also knew that any moment Paola could slip into another seizure and start seeing things again. She hoped it didn’t happen here, in front of everyone. She wasn’t embarrassed but didn’t need these people, or the few kids close to Paola’s age, making fun of her daughter.
Mary was sure she’d get violent if another adult said shit.
Watching Paola, it was hard not to consider that she had someone else, or something else, living inside her. The thing calling itself The Light, as Mary understood it, was Luca’s soul, blended with the good alien that had infected the boy.
Mary wanted her daughter back to normal, wanted the alien, and the boy, out of Paola. But at the same time, she knew their presence was the only thing saving her. Without them, Mary might not have Paola.
She’d settle for this as long as she had to, until they figured something out.
Though what that something was, Mary had no idea.
To Paola’s credit, the girl was handling this all better than Mary would have. Mary was pretty certain if she’d felt like someone else was inside her head, she’d go nuts trying to claw it out.
“Burgers and wieners are up,” said one of the men closest to the grills.
Mary and the group stood then waited in line. Farthest from the grills, they were also last.
There was more food than they could possibly eat. Everyone was supposed to bring something. Mary and Paola had baked six dozen oatmeal and chocolate chip cookies the night before. Someone else had made cupcakes. There were a ton of brownies sitting on a plate at the end of the table.
Mary figured the island was too square for the sort of brownies she wanted most.
Her stomach growled as the scent of grilled meat hitched a ride on the wind. It had been a long time since she’d had a decent burger, and she couldn’t wait to sink her teeth into one.
As the line inched forward, Mary caught the redheaded woman eyeballing her, snickering with a friend, an older blonde with an uptight ponytail.
“Ignore the bitches,” Jade whispered in her ear.
“Why are they even looking at us?” Mary asked.
“Her name is Rita. She’s married to Ned Wilson, that bald douche bag at the grill who Dez pretty much replaced as Bolton’s right-hand man.”
Mary looked at the bald man, in his forties, standing behind the grill, piling two burgers onto the plate for a waiting woman.
“He was Bolton’s second in charge?” Mary winced. “And now he’s here at a nonessential employee picnic? Ouch.”
“Yeah,” Jade said. “My dad said he’s a real screw-up. He’s the reason for the whole thing with that Sullivan guy getting infected without anyone even knowing.”
“So he was a scapegoat?” Brent asked.
Jade said, “I dunno if he was a scapegoat or really to blame. My dad said he’s an idiot, though, so maybe both.”
Brent asked, “And Ed told you all this? He’s never been the most gossipy of guys.”
“He only told me because I said the guy’s wife had given me dirty looks one day in the cafeteria. He explained why.”
“Great,” Mary said, “so she hates us all.”
Ben, hold
ing his dad’s hand, asked too loudly, “Who hates us?”
Mary laughed, and pursed her lips.
“Nobody, buddy. I was just … joking,” she pinched his nose, and he giggled.
Making their way down the line, Mary grabbed a hamburger and some potato salad, saving space for a cupcake.
Paola’s plate looked naked with only a few potato chips.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Mary asked.
Paola looked bothered, not meeting her mom’s eyes, and shook her head no.
Mary wondered if she’d noticed the nasty women ahead of them in line.
Bitches.
As they approached the front, Mary saw that the cupcakes were nearly gone, along with the brownies. Not a single one of her cookies had been touched.
What the hell?
Mary’s skin began to sizzle. Nobody, at all, had taken a single cookie. That wasn’t an accident.
She turned to see Rita and her blonde friend sitting at a table, laughing as they pretended not to eyeball Mary.
“No, Mom,” Paola said, grabbing her arm.
Mary looked down at her daughter.
“Don’t go over there.”
Mary looked down, surprised her daughter was reading her emotions so well.
“What’s wrong?” Jade asked.
“Nobody’s touched my cookies,” Mary said. “Not a single one.”
“Those cunts,” Jade said, before putting her hand over her mouth and adding, “I’m sorry.”
“No, you nailed it,” Mary said. “And don’t worry about Paola, she’s heard it all. You’ve nothin’ on our friend, Boricio!”
Jade said, “Come on, let’s just eat. Ignore them.”
Mary looked down, grabbed four of her cookies, two of each kind, then headed back to the table with Paola in tow.
As they sat, still waiting for the rest of the group to join, Paola whispered, “They hate us.”
“Who hates us?”
“Everyone.”
“Did you hear them say something?”
“I heard them thinking it,” Paola said. “Or rather, Luca heard, and he told me.”
A chill slithered through Mary.
“He’s talking to you now?”
“Yes.”
“How long has he been talking to you?”
“He just started.”
“What else did he have to say?”
“He said that The Darkness is coming.”
“What?”
Paola swallowed then repeated, “He said that The Darkness is coming.”
* * * *
CHAPTER 4 — THOMAS ACEVEDO
Acevedo struggled against the women’s weight as they held him down.
Beef patted his pockets, searching.
“Where are they?”
“What?” Acevedo asked, hoping the man wouldn’t pat down his ankle where he had tucked the vial away.
“You know what, the vials!” Beef’s voice brayed in an array of blended voices. Acevedo wasn’t sure if the man was using the many voices at once as a play on a possessed man, or if the alien were simply channeling voices in its collective — those of the already infected.
“Out in the car,” Acevedo answered.
Beef stared at Acevedo as if the man were considering infecting him, or trying to read his mind.
He can’t read your mind, said the alien in Acevedo’s head who’d been whispering ever since he slipped the vial into his sock. “He’s too strained controlling the women. You must distract him.”
How?
Get him to the car.
He’ll hurt Marina.
No, he won’t. You can stop him.
“I swear, they’re out in the car. I’ll go with you, if you want.”
“Why would you leave them out in the car?”
“They’re with my friend. I’ll go out with you and hand them over.”
Beef stared at the priest. “But I thought you came to get them from me. Why you so eager now to hand them over, Padre?”
“I’m not, but now that you’ve opened one of the vials there’s no point in trying to control anything.”
“That’s your first correct assumption.”
“Just please,” Acevedo said, “spare us.”
Beef smiled. Nodding, he leaned over, picked up Acevedo’s pistol, then trained it on him.
“Funny,” Beef said, “a priest with a gun. What happened to Thou shalt not kill?”
“I’m not a priest anymore.”
“Finally saw that your Christ abandoned you?”
“Something like that.”
Beef stared down the pistol’s sight at Acevedo like the caged prey he was.
“Tell me, why do you want the vials? What do you hope to accomplish?”
“I saw what you’re going to do to the world.”
“Did you now?”
“Yes, the vials showed me.”
“And what did you think you would do if you got the other vials? Stop us?”
“I don’t know,” Acevedo lied. “I just don’t want to see the world destroyed.”
“Oh, we’re not about to destroy the world. The world will be fine. You animals, however … ”
Beef brought the gun closer to Acevedo’s head.
“Please. I’ll give you the other vials. I’ll walk you out to the car.”
“I don’t need your help.” Beef looked down the sight, taking aim.
A bright flash filled the room, followed by thunder.
Gunshots erupted. Beef’s body jerked helter-skelter, riddled with gunshots before thudding like a collapsed piano to the ground.
* * * *
CHAPTER 5 — MARY OLSON
“What do you mean The Darkness is coming?”
“The Light told me that it’s coming. We’re in danger.”
“When?” Mary looked around for any obvious signs of danger. She had six rounds in a Springfield 1911 Ultra Compact in her small-of-the-back holster. She wished she’d thought to bring extra magazines. Six rounds were fine for a small threat, a person or two, but would do little against the infected, or the aliens.
She had to get back to their cabin, and the assault rifles inside. And she had to reach Desmond.
She grabbed the cell in her pocket and called him.
“Something’s wrong,” she said when he picked up.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know. Paola said ‘The Darkness is coming.’”
“Coming where?”
“Here. She said we’re in danger.”
“Impossible.” Desmond cleared his throat. “We’ve got this island on lockdown. Nobody comes onto the island without getting screened by me.”
“Maybe they’re already here?”
“I’ve checked everyone.”
“Maybe you can’t sense it as well as you think?”
Desmond was silent, save for a deep sigh. “Maybe she saw the infected in the secured level. Is that possible?”
“We have infected here?” Mary asked.
“Of course,” Desmond said. “But there’s no way they can get out. It’s a secure level below seven other levels of the facility, with too many checkpoints and fail-safes for them to escape. Trust me.”
Mary looked around the picnic: the warm sun, the nice gentle breeze wafting off the ocean, the chirping of kids laughing and enjoying themselves. The world was at odds with her feelings, and the certainty that danger was near.
“Relax,” Desmond said, “everything is fine. We have it all under control. May I talk to her?”
Mary handed the phone to Paola. “Dez wants to talk to you.”
“OK,” Paola said, taking the phone. “Hi.”
Desmond was faint as Paola tried to hold the phone so they could both hear, without putting it on speaker.
“What exactly did The Light tell you?”
Paola said, “That The Darkness is coming.”
“And?” Desmond asked. “Is that it? Did it say when, where, or in what form?”
“Nothing else. But I’m pretty sure he meant it was coming to the island.”
“Why do you think that? Did he say the island? Could he have been referring to the things that are happening out there on the mainland?”
“I dunno,” Paola said. “It felt like he meant the island.”
“What do you think, sweetheart? Do you feel like we’re in danger here?”
Paola paused. “I dunno.”
Mary took the phone, trying not to let mounting agitation show in her tone.
“Paola felt what she felt. I don’t think we should question it.”
“What would you have me do, Mary? Run and tell Bolton that Paola thinks we’re in danger? Then what? Lock everyone away in their own cells in the research facility?”
“I don’t know,” Mary said. “Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid.”
“I didn’t say you were. But we can’t jump on the heels of some vague threat.”
“You trust Paola to help you find the vials, but you won’t trust her when she says there’s a threat to the island?”
“I didn’t say that. We’ll double check our security protocols, and suspend ferries onto and off the island until I can be there to check all the passengers myself. How’s that?”
Mary sighed. “Sorry, I just hate not knowing what’s next. Feeling like there’s some threat out there and we have to sit here and wait for an attack. I’m tired of living like this, Dez. I thought the island would be safe.”
“It is, Mary. I promise. You and Paola are safer here than anywhere else in the world. Do you trust me?”
She sighed, imagining Desmond’s earnest eyes boring into hers. How could she say no to such a kind, sweet man, who had done everything he could to protect her and Paola since that fateful October night when they were flushed into another world? She had to trust the instincts that had already led them this far. It wasn’t as if she had any concrete idea of what was coming or a better way to protect them against The Darkness.
“Yes,” she said. “I trust you.”
“OK, I need to get back to work. Call me if anything happens. Or if Paola has any more visions. Anything at all. OK? I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Mary ended the call.
“Well?” Paola said, looking into her mother’s eyes.