Demon Lights

by Michael M. Hughes

The knock came around 3 A.M.

  Ellen had been lying awake, waiting for it, hoping for it, but the sound still startled her. She forced herself to remain still and breathe slowly and deeply. The thin, ratty sheet was pulled up to her eyes and she was on her side, facing the wall. Marlo’s note must have worked. It was entirely up to her now. If this ploy didn’t go off as planned they would never get another chance.

  The electronic lock beeped and the door clicked as it opened.

  “Shhh,” Marlo whispered. “Come here. She’s asleep.”

  The door closed and the automatic bolt slid into place. “Don’t try anything,” came the guard’s voice. “You’re locked in.”

  “Oh, I’m going to try something,” Marlo said. Her bed squeaked. “Hurry up.”

  “You sure she’s asleep?”

  “The old bitch sleeps like a log. Now come here. You know what I want and I know what you want, you dirty boy. I’ve been playing with myself for an hour waiting for you.”

  The guard laughed quietly. “You are a little slut, aren’t you?”

  “Why don’t you drop your pants and find out?”

  The guard’s voice turned cold. “Don’t fuck with me. You try anything, I’ll hurt you.” Ellen heard the jingling of coins and keys as his pants hit the floor.

  “Right,” Marlo said. “I weigh a hundred and ten pounds. I don’t want to fuck with you, I just want to fuck you. I was used to getting it all the time before I got thrown in here, and being stuck in here with the redneck bitch is killing me.” The bed creaked. “Your asshole friend isn’t going to bust in here, is he? Is he watching us?”

  “He’s not around. Just me.”

  Marlo sighed. “Put your hand here. Yeah, feel that? Feel how wet I am? You like that?”

  The guard grunted. Ellen realized she had been holding her breath. She let it out slowly, her heartbeat booming in her ears.

  “Look at you,” Marlo whispered. “Mmm. Must have been a long time since you’ve gotten pussy. God, you are big, too. I think I want that thing inside me. You want to put it in me?”

  “Yeah,” the guard said, breathing heavily.

  “I’m going to make you come so hard, Mr. Guard Man. Do you want to fuck me hard?”

  The bed creaked again.

  “Turn over,” the guard said. “You’re gonna do what I tell you, bitch.”

  “Wait, wait,” Marlo said. “I want to do something first. Sit back.”

  Ellen winced.

  The guard moaned. Ellen felt like she could vomit. This was horrifying. She should have never mentioned the idea, much less allowed the girl to go through with it.

  Wet smacking sounds, then Marlo again. “You like that, don’t you?”

  The guard mumbled. Ellen wished she could shut her ears but knew she needed to be ready. Please, please let this work.

  The guard groaned through his teeth. His breathing grew more rapid. The bed creaked rhythmically and he started to moan. And then stopped.

  “What the—” the guard said. Then he started screaming.

  Ellen leapt to see the guard staggering from the bed with his hands between his legs. In the darkness the blood spurting from between his cupped hands looked black. Marlo’s face was covered with it, too, and the girl was choking and gagging as she spit a mouthful of blood on the floor. Ellen jumped on the guard and he collapsed beneath her. She pounded his face, her fists aching with each hit. He screamed, and her fist smashed against his teeth, which cut into her knuckles. The guard bucked and writhed under her, and then his body jolted. Marlo had shoved something into his neck. Blood sprayed into Ellen’s eyes and she fell back, wiping at her face. The guard’s body shook, then went limp.

  When Ellen’s vision cleared she saw the toothbrush sticking out of the guard’s neck. Marlo had been sharpening it to a point on the metal frame beneath her bed every night after lights-out. Ellen got up, and her legs almost buckled beneath her. Pools of blood were spreading around the guard. She staggered into the bathroom and retched into the toilet.

  “He didn’t bring his gun,” Marlo said from the other room. “Just a Taser.”

  Ellen stood on wobbly legs. She washed her face, and almost vomited again when she saw all the blood running down the drain.

  “Move,” Marlo said. “I need to rinse out my mouth.”

  “We need to hurry,” Ellen said. “Did you grab the keys?”

  Marlo spat into the sink. She held up the keys in a bloody hand.

  Marlo got dressed while Ellen rifled through the guard’s pockets, struggling not to look at his face or the bloody mess between his legs. She couldn’t stop shaking. She found nothing useful except for a folding knife, which she tucked into her pocket.

  Marlo was trying the key fobs. One of them turned the indicator light green and the lock mechanism clicked loudly. “Come on,” she whispered.

  Ellen followed her into the hall. In the light Marlo looked like a sadistic clown, her face, neck, and clothes bright red with the guard’s blood. Her own shirt was spattered, too. They hurried in the direction the guards always came from, passed several doors similar to theirs, and turned right into an adjoining room.

  “Bingo,” Marlo said. Several heavy coats hung from hooks, and on a bench below them sat the guard’s handgun. Below the bench was a pair of snow boots. Marlo reached for the gun but Ellen stopped her.

  “I’ll take that. Get dressed. You can have the boots.”

  While Marlo dressed Ellen dug through the coat pockets. Nothing. She turned the gun over in her hand. No safety that she could see. When Marlo finished putting on the coat and boots Ellen handed Marlo the guard’s knife and put on one of the heavy coats. “Keep your hood around your face,” she told the younger woman. She opened the metal door and peeked outside. The cold went right through the flimsy scrub pants. No one out there, just the outlines of buildings and pools of light on the snow. “Follow me,” she said. “Walk normally. We don’t want to draw attention.”

  “Fuck, it’s cold,” Marlo said.

  Ellen pushed ahead. “At least you have boots.” Her feet already ached and the snow had gone up her pants legs almost to her knees. The school building seemed miles away. In the distance a tower rose above the compound, illuminated from within. The sky seemed to be made of more stars than blackness. “Let’s try that door,” she said.

  —

  Marlo pulled out the keys while Ellen tightened her grip on the gun. It took several attempts before the lock clicked. “Go,” Ellen said.

  The room was dark except for light coming through a window in a door across from them. It was obviously some kind of rec room, with toys, balls, and exercise equipment scattered about. Ellen ran to the door and looked through the window. Another empty, dimly lit room, this one with rows of doors on either side. “This might be where the kids sleep,” she whispered. She turned the knob. “Locked. Give me the keys.”

  Marlo handed them over. “There’s no key thingie here.”

  Ellen looked. No electronic lock, not even a keyhole for a normal key in the door. “Shit. Locked from the other side.”

  “Here,” Marlo said. “Try this.”

  Ellen took the knife, opened it, and pushed the blade into the side of the door near the knob. It scraped metal but didn’t catch the bolt. She jiggled it, then pushed harder. Nothing. When she tried to force it further the blade scraped loudly and slipped. “Dammit. We’ll have to go back out—”

  A door opened and a little girl stepped from the darkened doorway. She rubbed her eyes and stared at Ellen through the window.

  Ellen knocked lightly and waved.

  The little girl stepped closer, blinking. Her blond hair was knotted and sticking in all directions.

  “Get her to unlock the door,” Marlo said.

  Come here, Ellen mouthed.

  The girl looked behind her, then back at them. She took a few more steps toward the door.

  “Come on, come on,” Ellen whispered. She smiled in hope the girl would unders
tand she was friendly.

  Marlo moved closer to the window. The girl stopped, her eyes widening.

  “Marlo, you’re scaring her. You look like a crazy clown.”

  Marlo backed away. Ellen smiled again. “Unlock the door. We want to help you.”

  The girl seemed hesitant.

  “Open the door. Please. Please.”

  The girl looked behind her again, then reached for the door.

  A piercing alarm made Ellen jump.

  “Fuck,” Marlo shouted.

  Again, the alarm screeched. Followed by a whoop, whoop, whoop. Lights around the room began to flash on and off.

  The girl’s eyes widened.

  “Open the door!” Ellen banged her fists on the metal. “Please, open it now!”

  The girl’s face twisted into a grimace.

  An amplified male voice followed the alarm. “This is a Code Red emergency. Code Red. All unauthorized personnel please shelter in place.”

  The girl turned and ran back into her room.

  “We have to get out of here,” Marlo shouted.

  “No. William is in there.” Ellen banged on the door again. “Open the door! Somebody open the door! William!”

  The whooping alarm continued.

  Marlo pulled on Ellen’s arm. “Come on, Ellen.”

  Ellen handed the knife back to Marlo and pulled the gun out of her pocket. “Let’s find another door. Before they find us.” She sprinted across the room, kicking over a table full of paints. The cold blasted them when the door opened, and alarms echoed from the other buildings. A dog barked in the distance, and a searchlight beam from the tower moved erratically across the ground ahead. Ellen ran along the side of the building, staying in the shadows, then stopped.

  “No,” she said.

  Several men, flashlights bobbing, were running in their direction.

  They backtracked, running as fast as they could in the snow. Ellen stumbled and Marlo pulled her to her feet. When they rounded the corner to the other side of the building Marlo grabbed Ellen and threw her against the wall. The front of the building was lit up. Three guards with rifles stood staring into the darkness. Ellen’s heart felt like it might burst. This was it. They’d failed. Killed a man in cold blood for nothing.

  “We can’t get in there,” Marlo whispered.

  Voices. From the other side of the building. Growing louder.

  “There,” Marlo said. “That small building. Come on.” She pulled Ellen’s coat, but Ellen didn’t move. “Now, Ellen.”

  “William,” Ellen said. Now she would never see him again. To have been so close. Within feet of where he lay sleeping. Then she felt the smack of Marlo’s palm across her cheek.

  “You can’t help him if you’re dead. Let’s go.”

  Her face stinging, Ellen ran with Marlo. The door to the small building was concealed in shadow, but the voices were getting closer. Flashlight beams converged on the school building’s wall where they had been standing and she heard the word footprints. Ellen fumbled with the keys.

  “They’re coming,” Marlo whispered.

  The door beeped. Ellen pulled it open, then the two of them slipped inside and slammed the door shut. A light flickered on. As Ellen’s eyes adjusted, her stomach dropped. Hanging around the small room were maybe a dozen long, red robes, their hoods hanging open like gaping mouths.

  Marlo took out the knife and started stabbing the blade into the electronic lock mechanism. On the third try sparks flew out of the unit and a puff of smoke curled upward and dissipated.

  “Look,” Ellen said. A metal hatch was affixed to the floor.

  “Fucking open it,” Marlo said. Something heavy banged against the outside of the door. A man shouted, then there was more banging, metal against metal.

  Ellen lifted the handle of the hatch and pulled. A light flickered on below, illuminating a ladder leading down into darkness. Her arms shook as she mounted the ladder. The air from below was warmer and dank, with a vaguely sulfurous smell. Marlo followed her, then closed the hatch behind them. Ellen’s feet touched the rocky bottom, and when she turned around, she saw a tunnel leading away. It looked like a natural cavern system, but with a string of lights along the ceiling. The passage was narrow. They’d have to go single file.

  Ellen breathed deeply. “I hate caves,” she said.

  “I hate bullets,” Marlo said, shoving Ellen aside. “Maybe this is a way out of here. Come on.”

  Ellen followed. The floor was uneven, so she couldn’t run. This was too much like the horrible, charnel-smelling tunnels beneath El Varón’s compound. At times the walls squeezed close and she had to turn sideways, the fabric of the coat catching on the rocks. She began to notice traces of paintings on the walls, smears of charcoal and reds and ochers. Here and there other passages and openings led into darkness. If someone turned the lights off they would be lost forever. She fought back a wave of panic, her mouth suddenly dry, her labored breathing threatening to turn into screams.

  Marlo stopped in front of her. The tunnel had widened into a small chamber. A metal ladder extended from the floor into the darkness above. Thick wires hung next to the ladder, then ran along the floor beneath a curtain of hanging plastic slats. She turned and held her finger to her lips. Ellen stopped, hunched over, her heart hammering. For some reason she did not want to go through that curtain.

  Marlo seemed to sense it, too. She turned, eyes wide, and whispered, “I’ll go first.”

  Ellen shook her head. “No.” She held out the gun and pushed in front of Marlo. How could she possibly aim straight with her hands shaking so badly? She pushed aside the plastic with her left hand. It was pitch-black. She’d have to feel her way around and find a light switch, if there was one. Marlo grabbed the back of her coat and held on. Ellen pushed through, the plastic rattling around her. The air in here felt electrified. She waved the gun in front of her, the other hand feeling for something, anything, stepping awkwardly, slowly, as quietly as possible. If she didn’t have a heart attack, it would be a miracle. At least it was quiet. And being so dark, unlikely that anyone was there. Ahead, in the blackness, a machine hummed. A generator, maybe.

  And then something grabbed her arm. Yanked it so that the gun was pointing up.

  “Marlo!” she screamed. Hands all over her now.

  “Motherfuck—” Marlo shouted, and her hand ripped away from Ellen’s coat.

  Ellen writhed and kicked, but there were too many people on her. Grunting men. She collapsed to the floor, her head striking rock. Bright dots and tracers exploded in the blackness, and then she was pinned, with someone heavy sitting on her chest. Then the room lit up. A man’s face, mostly concealed by bulky goggles, loomed over hers, his mouth twisted into an amused grimace. Another man sat beside her, and she felt the prick of a needle in her arm.

  Before she lost consciousness she heard the voice she had been dreading.

  “Hello, again, Ellen,” Lily said. “Did you really think you could get away from me?”

  —

  Ellen woke up alone and naked in a tiny, empty cell, her head throbbing, her mouth bone dry. The door opened. Regardie and two new guards walked in dressed in heavy winter jumpsuits, snow boots, and coats. The guards had handguns drawn. Snowflakes clung to their shoulders and boots.

  “Get dressed,” Regardie said coldly. One of the guards tossed her an outfit. Boots, snow pants, and a hooded coat. So they were taking her outside. Her stomach clenched. “Can I have some privacy?”

  Regardie stared.

  She dressed quickly, her back turned, feeling all of their eyes on her. The boots were several sizes too large, but she knew it made no sense to complain.

  They led her out of the cell and stopped at a door at the end of the hallway, a thick metal rectangle set into the wall. Snow was melting on the floor. Regardie pulled thick mittens out of his coat pockets and put them on.

  “I suppose you can’t tell me where you’re taking me,” Ellen asked. “Are you going to shoo
t me? Leave me out for the wolves?”

  Regardie smiled. “After what you did, that would be a kindness. But no. Someone wants to see you alive.” He pulled the door handle. “Let’s go, gentlemen.”

  Freezing air blasted through the door, so cold it felt like needles stabbing her face. She pulled her hood tighter. It was daytime, so she could see the mountains—ragged peaks streaked with white and capped with clouds. Walking in the too-large boots was difficult, so she stepped slowly, one foot at a time. Off in the distance she saw where they were heading. A black dome. It looked like a giant sphere had come crashing through the sky and embedded itself in the snow, or had pushed itself up from beneath the earth. She swayed for a moment. The dome was pulling her. As if it had its own gravity.

  “Walk,” one of the guards said, poking her in the back. A gust of wind blew icy grains into her eyes.

  She stepped forward. Regardie had moved several paces ahead. For a brief moment, she thought about running. But that would accomplish nothing. The guards would be on her in seconds. And even if she got away, then what? She’d die within hours in this frozen waste.

  The closer she got to the dome the stranger she felt. She’d seen pictures of domes like it before, from an old world’s fair. But the glass was odd—it didn’t reflect anything, but seemed to be absorbing all the light that hit it.

  When Regardie reached the door, it opened. He waved Ellen in. Two more guards stood inside, dressed in insulated overalls. The dome was transparent from within, all the glass triangles converging on a pentagon at the apex. It was like being inside an enormous, multifaceted bubble. Or looking out through an insect’s eye.

  The guards shut the door behind them. It was warmer inside, but not much. The ground was bare and rocky. Toward the far end of the dome a square hole had been cut into the ground, with a metal ladder extending from it. Wires from a bank of generators snaked down into the opening.

  “I don’t want to go down there,” she said.

  Regardie pulled his pipe from deep inside his coat and lit it. He spoke to her from between clenched teeth. “You’ve already been down there. You feel it, don’t you? The energy?”

  She did. At first she’d thought the ground was vibrating from the generators. But the vibration was coming from inside her. And her skin tingled, as if a staticky balloon was being passed up and down her body. It was strange but not entirely unpleasant.