by Sansa Rayne
The tears stop, leaving an even more chilling quiet. Interrupting Colette as she tried to comfort everyone might not have been the kindest thing to do, but my reporter training takes over. As terrible as I feel for these women who have lost a friend, if anyone is going to be held responsible, we need to know how Madeleine died.
“I’m sure it was an accident,” Colette says. “The floor can be slick. She likely tripped and hurt herself.”
Someone mutters, “Bullshit.”
I don’t see who said it, but I concur.
“When I tried to give her… mouth-to-mouth…” Paulina says. “I… I…” Her body heaves, and she covers her face. Speaking through her fingers, she finished, “I tasted blood. Her nose was… crooked.”
That’s all I need to hear.
“It wasn’t an accident,” I say. “Somebody did this to her.”
“Shut up, bitch.”
I turn to the new voice: Bethany. She’s been arranging sliced fruit and berries into platters, working quietly and keeping to herself. Since Victor’s death, she looks healthier, at least physically.
“No one’s going to do shit,” she adds.
Not knowing what to say, I look around at all the women. My hands close into fists.
“We have to do something,” I say. “Someone murdered her!”
“It doesn’t matter,” Paulina mutters, wiping her eyes. “They do what they want. Sometimes they kill us.”
My jaw drops. I could cry. I don’t care if the guards are stepping in closer and listening.
“There’s no fucking way we can just pretend-”
“Shut the fuck up,” Bethany curses, crushing a raspberry in her palm until the pulp runs down her wrist. “We pretend all the time, you dumb bitch.”
“Yeah, Kate, go ahead and ask them to investigate,” says Paulina. “They’ll have you beaten. Maybe worse.”
“Everyone, please get back to work,” Colette calls out. “Don’t let those chops burn. Get stirring! Do your jobs, and try to hurry. We’re going to be… short-staffed.” Her voice cracks, but she lifts her chin, swallowing something down.
This is fucking insane. This is unacceptable. Nothing about this place is just or fair, but to move on after a friend was murdered? Are they all so completely defeated that they’ll stand for this? Whatever. I won’t. If I have to get Ingram to step in, I will.
“Hey, Kate,” says Colette, pulling me aside. “I need you to listen to me for a minute.”
She can talk; I can’t promise I’m going to listen. Even if I wanted to, the irate pounding in my skull drowns out almost everything.
“I know you’re still relatively new here, and you can’t accept the reality of our… situation. It’s unfair what happened to Madeleine, and you have every right to be mad, but there’s nothing any of us can do about it.”
We’ll see about that.
“If you try, you’ll only end up hurting yourself,” she continues. “And Madeleine wouldn’t want that. I don’t. None of us do.”
“If they killed me, I’d want you to do something about it,” I say.
Colette sighs.
“I know. But we can’t. None of us are safe.”
“Really?” I scoff. “No one would dare touch you because of Hardt. Or do you mean that little to him?”
I expect the comment to make her mad, but she responds by turning away, her chin trembling. Is that fear?
“Is he hurting you?” I ask.
That angers her.
“No! He’d never. Not him.”
“Then who?” I whisper, leaning in close. “Tell me.”
Colette nudges me backward, shaking her head.
“Just do what I said, okay? It’s for your own good. Obey Ingram and he’ll keep you safe. Make trouble, and you’re dead. If you’re lucky, everyone else will leave you alone.”
She points to the bisque. It needs a stir, so I go. The last thing I want to do is make trouble for everyone.
As I work, my eyes water. I want off this fucking island!
I’ve thought it a million times since I got here. Thanks to Ingram I’d started to make peace with the fact I’m trapped here, but that was before I knew these men can just murder us without consequence. I can’t stay. I need this nightmare to be over. Even if I had to go into hiding, leaving my old identity behind. I could change my appearance, start a new life — pretend I’ve never heard of Kate Atwood. Living in a small town in the middle of nowhere, working as a waitress at some truck stop — it wouldn’t be glamorous but I’d be free.
Except, there’s no escaping. I can’t swim far enough. The patrols would see me. And even if I did, I’d be a fool to think they wouldn’t find me anyway. I’d spend my life waiting for the day the past caught up.
“Hey, Atwood.”
Garth marches up to me, baton in hand.
“Less crying, more stirring.”
Glaring, I swish the ladle around a bit.
Maybe it would be worth it to sling some scalding hot soup into his eyes. At least I’ll die for something, unlike Madeleine.
“If that burns, I’ll kick the shit out of you,” Garth warns.
I scoop some out. It steams in the open air.
Garth smirks, inviting a challenge.
“You’ve got two seconds to put that back.”
I twist the handle. A few drops of soup spill over the side, dripping on the floor.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Are you?” I snarl.
Garth pulls back his arm, balling a fist. I lift the ladle, hoping I can aim it right.
Then a hand grabs Garth’s wrist and snaps it. Ingram kicks out Garth’s knee from behind, causing the guard to collapse on the floor. He screams, clutching his arm.
“What the fuck!” he shouts, his voice cracking an octave.
“Leave the discipline to me,” Ingram grunts, grabbing my arm and pulling me away.
We don’t stop or talk until we’re far from the pavilion and kitchen, the noise of both a dull hum in the distance.
“Thank you,” I murmur. He probably just saved my life.
“You’re okay?” Ingram asks.
“No! I mean, I’m not hurt. But Madeleine’s dead and no one’s going to do shit about it!”
He pulls me into a hug, rubbing my back. My face, still wet with tears, leaves marks on his crisp, white shirt.
“I’m mad too, Kate. She didn’t deserve that.”
When he lets me go and leans in for a kiss, I don’t shy away. Surprised at myself, I groan. I should be smacking him in the face, stepping on his foot and kicking him in the nuts for being a bastard, but the kiss feels too good to resist.
I know I need some kind of outlet for all the frustration, grief and rage of this place. Is it wrong that I’m getting it from a monster like Ingram? Am I crazy for clinging to him for dear life? There’s an animal instinct practically propelling me against his body, desperate for protection — but I know nothing I say or do will change who he is or what he can do to help me.
Yet, I can’t let him go. He grasps at me greedily, he kisses with compassion and vigor. This is more than pity on his part, and it’s not self-preservation on mine. If he wanted to enslave me, he could. I’m not some courtesan to him. This goes beyond that, and no matter what he’s done in the past, there’s no denying that there’s something between us.
“It’s going to be okay,” he says at last. “I’ll always be here for you. I promise, Kate.”
“I believe you mean that,” I reply, smiling sadly. “But what if you can’t? You won’t be at my side every minute of every day. Whatever happened to Madeleine could happen to me.”
“I won’t let it.”
He leads me to a bench and bids me to sit down with him.
“Listen, I know that I’ve done things you can’t ignore… or forgive. But I swear, I want you to be safe, and I have a plan to give you a real chance. I think it will work, but it’ll depend on you.”
“What are you talking about?
”
“You’re going to have to have discipline. More than you’ve ever shown in your life. It’ll mean following my lead at all times — obeying my command at all times. You’ll have to think and act like one of us. You’ll have to be one-hundred percent loyal to us — to me. If you can do it, I can keep you safe.”
“But Ingram, how-”
“Kate, if you do this, in time I could free you. If I take over for Hardt and gain his level of influence, there’s no limit to what I could do. But they’ll have to trust that you’re not a risk. I promise, I’ll do everything to make it happen.”
I hug my arms tight into my chest, shivering as the sea breeze rustles through the palms. Wearing just my panties and an apron, I’m dressed for a hot kitchen.
“How am I supposed to believe you?” I ask. “Even if you mean every word of it, how do I know you can do it?”
“I don’t know,” he admits. “Maybe I’ll fail, but I’m going to try. And if you trust me, I think it can work.”
He’s not playing around, is he? He could be delusional, but he’s serious. And if it really works… isn’t it worth a shot? What have I got to lose? I guess the real question is, can I even do what he’s saying? I know myself, and my behavior. What if I can’t be disciplined like he means?
“We both need to get back,” he says.
“Yeah. But there’s something I should tell you.”
As we walk back to the pavilion, I go through my encounter with Anton, and what I learned about his past. Ingram listens, but by the end he’s frowning.
“So he went to Harvard… that narrows it down to some extent, assuming he’s telling the truth.”
“You don’t think it is?” I ask.
“No. Someone would remember him. Thanks for trying though. Maybe we’ll figure out more soon. In the meantime, just hang on. I’ll get us through this.”
He kisses me one more time, then nudges me back to the kitchen. I should feel exhilarated by the prospect of his promise. I should be eager for a chance to escape the Enclave. I can’t, though. His plan sounds too good to be true, and I’ve seen too much tragedy and suffering in this evil place.
I want to believe he’ll save me, but I don’t. He can’t save me.
No one can.
She lies on the tiles, her normally milky skin shades paler than usual. Lifeless eyes face the ceiling. Her nose is crushed.
“I’m sorry, Maddy. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.”
There’s a lot I should have said to her months ago.
“I’m sorry I brought you here and then cast you aside.”
The night we met, a bunch of frat boys were feeling her up in a bar. I’d been listening to them try to negotiate a price for the entire evening and they got impatient.
I don’t do group jobs, guys. One at a time, okay?
No, it’s all or nothing, Princess. Come on, you’ll have a great time, I promise.
When she bailed, they followed. I did too.
I forget how many of their jaws and noses I broke. She asked how she could thank me. I asked if she wanted steady work. An hour later, she was on my jet, headed for paradise. But eventually I got tired of her, just like with the others. She only complained in jest, but I should have been there for her.
“And I’m sorry I stole the life you could have had.”
She may have hopped on my jet without a second thought or a single regret, but did she ever wonder what might have been? Back on the streets she could have been killed, or she could have succumbed to addiction. But then again, what if she went back to school, gotten a real job and had a good life? Madeleine was sweet and beautiful. At the very least she could have found a kind husband to take good care of her.
“And I’m sorry we’ll probably never know what happened to you, or why.”
Everyone here liked her. She loved sex, no matter who her partner was. Who would have done this? Apparently Anton Ford’s been fucking her a lot lately, but everyone fucked her. He’s the only one who won’t especially miss her, though. Would he do this on his induction day? Did she anger him somehow, or did he get off on the killing?
“If I can give you justice, I will. And I promise to do for Kate what I couldn’t for you. Or die trying.”
I bend down and swipe my fingers over her eyelids, closing them. Then I find a towel and cover her. My hands shake. Blood pumps in my skull, deafening.
The second I’m outside the sauna I call Eyal and tell him to keep the jet on standby. Then I shower and change at my residence. I make the water freezing, but it doesn’t help. I punch out two tiles. It hurts. My knuckle bleeds.
I’m the last one to arrive at the ceremony. My tux feels tight around the chest; I haven’t worn it in a while. It doesn’t matter. No one gives a shit. Everyone’s paying attention to Anton, which is fair, since this is his big day. He, Jamison and the others chat and smoke cigars. He jokes about something and everyone laughs. They cackle. As if Madeleine didn’t just fucking die. Will they have a moment of silence for her? I fucking doubt it.
Several of the courtesans watch us from all around the pavilion. Wearing gorgeous, pink qipaos, they’re tied to the narrow brick pillars forming the structure’s interior. Their collars around their necks hold up trays of hors d'oeuvres that balance against their hips. With their hands bound, they can’t wipe away the tears leaving streaks of makeup running down their cheeks. Kate is among them, grimacing uncomfortably as Evo Griekin’s hand brushes her thigh on the way to taking a stuffed mushroom. Jamison nods when he sees me, and a couple of men turn to look, but they stay focused on Anton until the end of the cocktail hour.
When it’s time to begin, Jamison cuts through the noise, calling out, “Everyone quiet down. Let’s get started.”
They end their conversations and take their seats; as before, one chair remains empty. A pair of courtesans, faces locked in fake smiles, carry in trays of champagne flutes. I take one for the sake of decorum.
“As you all know, we have recently lost a member of our brotherhood,” Jamison says, turning toward Victor’s seat. “It is our duty to anoint a new member. However, we are fortunate that even before Mr. Sovereign’s sudden passing, we already had begun the process of welcoming a most-qualified new candidate: Anton Ford. As founder and CEO of Innovative AF, the telecom giant quickly taking over the world, Mr. Ford has proven himself a powerful new ally. His empire grows at a pace far beyond that of the rest of the industry, and thus he’s emerged as the new leader. By joining our ranks, our dominance over our respective fields will be assured for decades. I believe this may be the easiest decision our organization has ever made.”
The men clap politely, nodding their heads to Anton. He holds a hand over his heart and mouths his thanks to Jamison and the rest. I look to Kate, who’s keeping her attention on Jamison like all the others, doing her best not to show any defiance. Is she listening? Thinking about Madeleine? Is she recalling with fondness shooting Victor, or wishing she could shoot a few more of us?
Stay strong, Kate. This will all be over soon.
“Although we will miss our friend Victor, it’s safe to say we’ve made a new friend,” Jamison continues. “He’s shown us the utmost deference and respect, and assumed a great risk in seeking out our invitation. He knew that failure to meet our high standards would be his end, and the extraordinary success he’s already achieved would be for nothing. But Mr. Ford was confident he would prove himself to us, and he has. He’s exactly the kind of member we need, and it is my honor to recommend him for induction.”
We applaud again, a protracted though not raucous ovation. It only stops after Anton stands up to speak.
“Thank you, Mr. Hardt,” he says. “You have honored me in a way I will never forget. It’s one thing to have ordinary people to look up to you, or even have wealthy and powerful people hold you in esteem. But to be among the greatest, most accomplished men who have ever lived — that is a pleasure I’ve long dreamed about.”
He smiles broadly, c
ompletely at ease. As if this has been a fait accompli for some time.
“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t pictured it. I’m sorry it comes after the loss of a great man, one I considered a friend. I’d hoped to partner with Victor on joint ventures for years. Now I intend to honor his memory through my deeds and my contributions to this organization.”
He pauses for a moment, paying tribute with a long acknowledgment of the empty chair.
“If I am inducted into your ranks, I will not just try to honor Victor, but live up to the example set by the Masters. For years, whether I knew it or not, I’ve been inspired by all of you — especially you, Mr. Hardt. I’ve learned more here with you than in all my years, and I can’t thank you enough. I give you my word that I will find ways for my companies to directly benefit each and every one of you within six months.”
Now the applause rises to a crescendo as the men rise to their feet to cheer. I don’t join them. One by one they notice, turning toward me.
“Ingram!” Jamison barks.
“It’s okay,” says Ford, flashing an untroubled smile. “Is there a problem, Mr. Dent?”
A fiery snake swims in my stomach. This is it. One chance. I want to glance at Kate, but all eyes are on me now.
“Well first let me congratulate you on a moving speech. It really hit all the right notes. You have a gift for sounding persuasive, empathetic and wise that few can match.”
It’s like a game of chicken. He doesn’t flinch, but he sure knows we’re playing.
“Thank you, Ingram,” he says.
“It leaves me wondering, however, why someone with your eloquence and intelligence couldn’t convince Victor to tame his thirst for vengeance. For all your reverence toward him, he might still be alive if he’d listened to you. He might not have tried to murder me, if you’d persuaded him.”
Ford nods, though he glares at me.
“I suppose that’s true,” he admits.
I ask, “So what did you say to him? I’d like to know.”
Wind whistles through the pavilion, filling the silence with its rustle.
“I tried, Ingram,” Ford says at last. “I did my best to urge patience. If I’d known how far gone he was, I would have tried harder to get through to him, but I’m not sure it would have mattered.”