by R A Doty
“I would go back to custodial duties?”
Sarah shook her head. “It would be much worse than that. What you did is a capital offense that could destroy the very fabric of our existence. For that you would be punished severely. I can only imagine what would happen if this somehow spread to the other nutrimen. I don’t think you have any idea how serious this is, Calla. How well can she speak? Surely it’s just a few mumbles and groans, right?”
Calla raised her brows. “I think it’s a little more than that. You wanna see?”
“I’d rather not, but at this point I don’t think I’ve got a choice.”
Calla led Sarah to April’s pen. When they walked inside, April was lying on the bunk, facing the wall.
“April,” Calla said, walking up to the bed. “Can you sit up for a minute?”
April rolled over and sat on the edge of the bunk.
“Who am I, April?” Calla asked.
April titled her head with a curious expression on her face.
“April, I know I made you promise never to talk to anyone other than me, but this is important.” Calla glanced at Sarah. “This is Sarah. She’s a friend, and she wants to see how well you can speak.”
April looked at Sarah and then at Calla. She didn’t trust this stranger and sensed fear.
“I understand you’re nervous, but it’s important that you say something, anything.”
April lowered her head.
“She’s just afraid,” Calla said. “Just give her a while and she’ll come around.”
“Calla are you sure you’re feeling okay? It’s a hard job and maybe you’re just not ready for this kind of responsibility yet.” Sarah walked out of the room and toward the entrance door with Calla following close behind. “I’m going to set up an appointment to have you see Dr. Monkash. He can help you cope with whatever you’re dealing with, and I have no choice but to talk to my father. Maybe there’s another job that isn’t so challenging.” Sarah stopped at the hallway door.
“Sarah, I don’t want another job. I can handle this, I promise. I’m not losing my mind, and I don’t need a doctor to help me with any problems. I’m fine, really.”
Sarah grabbed the doorknob. “I’m sorry, Calla, but you leave me no choice.”
“I’d like to see the stars at night when all the world’s asleep and the sky is dark as pitch.”
Sarah released the doorknob. She and Calla turned toward April, who was standing just outside her pen.
April walked forward. “Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven, blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels. Mr. Longfellow liked the stars as well.”
Calla ran up to her. “Thank you, April.” She turned back to Sarah. “I told you. Isn’t she wonderful?”
Sarah walked up to April and studied her face as if she had come from another planet. “This is impossible.” She circled the female nutrimen, eyeing her from head to toe and stopping in front of her again. “Just how intelligent are you? What’s the square root of 443,556?”
After a few seconds, April answered. “Six hundred and sixty-six.”
Sarah punched the equation into a watch-like devise on her wrist. She slowly raised her head.
“Is she right?” Calla asked.
“That’s incredible,” Sarah replied, locking eyes with April.
“Now do you understand why I couldn’t resist talking to her?” Calla said. “She’s amazing.”
Sarah looked at Calla, and then at April. “How could you have possibly learned so much from the confines of this prison?”
All emotion left April’s face. She rushed back to her pen, no longer wanting to play this game. She now understood why she wasn’t allowed outside of the fence, and she realized she would never be released if she was indeed imprisoned.
“What did I do?” Sarah said. “Did I say something wrong?”
Calla rushed to April, and Sarah followed.
“What’s wrong, April?” she said.
April lay on her bunk, facing the wall.
Calla sat next to her and caressed her arm. “April, honey, what’s the matter?”
April said nothing.
After a few more failed attempts to comfort April into speaking again, Calla and Sarah left the room.
“I don’t know what’s the matter with her. Maybe it was too much for one day.”
“I still can’t believe it,” Sarah said. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. My father will know what to do.”
“Sarah, you promised. You can’t tell your father. They’ll take her away and who knows what they’ll do to her.” Calla grabbed Sarah’s hands. “You have to keep this a secret, okay?”
“Do you have any idea how much trouble we’d be in if anyone ever found out? This is beyond both of us, Calla. I know I promised, but I didn’t expect this.”
Sarah left, and Calla stood silently, staring at the door. I never should have told her.
Chapter Twelve
THOMAS STEINBERG JOGGED forward with his son by his side. From somewhere in the city, a tower of flames stretched toward the night sky. He didn’t have time to take the long way around, as he had originally planned, so the only other option was to go right through the center of town. He gripped his son’s hand and headed toward the flames.
“Come on, Josh. Try to keep up, we can make it if we hurry.”
“Why didn’t Luke and Dan let mom come?”
“I don’t know, son, but we’ll go back for her when we get to the boat.”
With each step, Thomas and his son edged closer to the city. The silhouettes of tall skyscrapers against a dark purple sky loomed before them. They panted, climbing up hills and traversing around trees. A sharp pain stabbed into Josh’s abdomen, causing him to lag behind.
Thomas stopped and stared down at his son. “Josh, we have to hurry. Now, come on.”
The boy tried to move but he buckled over again, his hand pressed tight to his side. He began to cry. “Can’t we go back for mom?”
“I said we’ll get her later, Josh; now let’s go. We’re not gonna make it if we don’t hurry.” When his son still didn’t move, Thomas grabbed the boy’s hand and pulled him along.
A four-lane highway that would have once been lit up with long trails of car headlights separated them from the city like a dark, vacant moat surrounding a castle. Thomas led his son across the highway and lifted him over a guardrail when they reached the other side. The fire burned two blocks away, and he headed toward the orange glow in the sky. A strange smell wafted through the streets, as he stopped at an intersection and craned his neck around the corner of a building. Cars were neatly parked beside sidewalks as if waiting to be driven to work the following morning, but their drivers would never come because most of them were now lying on a mound of burning flesh, one block away.
Thomas noticed a corpse sitting in an easy-chair as he passed a window. It’s blackened eye sockets seemingly staring out the window. “Keep your eyes forward, Josh and don’t look in any of the buildings.” Another body lay in an open doorway, its rotted legs stretched down the steps leading to the door. As Josh passed, his gaze became fixed on its skeletal remains. “A little farther, son,” Thomas said, tugging his son along. People were standing around the fire, twenty yards ahead. As Thomas got closer he could see they looked like descent people. Not like the ones covered in tattoos and wearing weird haircuts that broke into his office building years earlier. But he knew better than to trust anyone. It would be best to avoid them by going down a side street. He quietly headed to an alley but stopped instantly when he heard the voice.
“Are you lost?” one of the people around the fire shouted.
Thomas turned in the direction of the voice and noticed the four people staring directly at him and Josh. The one who spoke walked over to them.
“Can we be of service, sir?”
“No thank you. My son and I are just on our way to the north pier?”
The young man
extended his arm for a handshake. “It’s nice to meet you, sir. My name’s Nicolas.” Nicolas sized up the stranger, from head to toe, and then looked at the young boy standing next to him.
Thomas shook the man’s hand. “It a pleasure to meet you. My name’s Thomas, and this is my son, Josh. We’re in a bit of a hurry, so if you don’t mind we’ll be on our way.”
Nicolas looked at Thomas, and then knelt down in front of Josh. “It’s really a pleasure to meet you, Josh. I’d love to have you for dinner, that is, if you and your dad have the time.”
The three people standing behind him snickered.
A smile left Thomas’ face when he looked past the people and into the fire. Hundreds of charred and twisted bodies intertwined into a mountainous pile of death. He pulled Josh’s face against his side to obstruct the boy’s view. “Like I said, we’re in a bit of a hurry if you don’t mind.”
Nicolas rubbed Josh’s hair, like petting a dog, and then stood up. “Oh, I don’t mind at all. Follow me. We’ll accompany you.”
Thomas seemed bewildered by the young man’s haste. It seemed odd, unusual, almost too eager. A weird chill ran down his spine. He held Josh’s hand firmer than before and followed Nicolas. The other three people trailed behind them.
“Isn’t the coast in that direction?” Thomas asked.
“I know a shortcut,” Nicolas said, continuing down the street. The chill running down Steinberg’s spine spread to his arms. It was the same feeling he had when the office door was kicked open. He instinctively ran then, and he felt like running now, but he kept walking, despite what he felt in his gut. But should he trust his gut, anyway? Look how Luke and Dan turned out, he thought.
A cricket chirped from somewhere in the shadows and high above, the full moon slipped out from behind a cloud.
“We’re almost there...” Nicolas said, in a voice that seemed to hold a surprise.
The outline of a colossal building towered in the distance, the moon hovering just to the right of its tall steeple. An illuminated twenty-foot tall stained glass window in the shape of a cross, shined bright above the arched front doors.
Thomas slowed his pace. “Where exactly are we going?”
“Just follow me, lost sheep,” Nicolas said.
The people from behind shoved Thomas forward. Thomas realized he made a mistake in trusting these people. Panic coursed through his body and his heart thumped hard in his chest. He imagined Bill Weston standing on the helm of the boat, staring at his watch. He wanted all of this to end, and he and Josh be running up to the boat just in time before it left, but deep inside, he knew that wasn’t going to happen. It couldn’t hurt to try, he thought, turning toward a side street. “I appreciate the help, but I think we’ll go this way.” Before taking another step his path was blocked. “Look, I don’t want any trouble. My son and I have to get to the north pier, and I don’t have time for any detours along the way.” He tried to step around, but his path was blocked again.
Nicolas walked up to him. “Is there a reason you’re avoiding our house of worship? Do you not believe in the Lord Almighty?”
“I told you, I have to get to the north pier, and I don’t have time to waste.”
“You believe entering the Lord’s house is a waste of time?”
“I didn’t say that. I just meant we’re in a hurry.” Thomas headed in another direction. “Now if you don’t mind we’ll be on our way.” His path was blocked again and he tried to push through, but a blow to the side of his head dropped him to the ground.
“Dad!” Josh yelled. Hands grabbed for the boy, but he managed to slip free.
“Run, Josh,” Thomas said. He tried to stand but was overcome with dizziness. When he started to crawl, he was kicked in the ribs.
“Grab the kid!” Nicolas yelled.
Josh ran for an alley with footsteps right behind him. He felt a hand grab for the collar of his tee shirt, so he jerked to the left. Another grabbed for his arm so he quickened his pace, jumping over garbage cans and darting around an abandoned car. He ignored the pain that returned in his side and ran faster than he’d ever run before. When he could no longer breathe, and was certain he had lost his followers, he fell to the ground, gasping for air. His sweat-soaked shirt clung to his body and chills raced up his arms as a cool ocean breeze meandered through the streets. As he squatted with his face just inches from the macadam, he thought of the cup of tea his mother had made for him. He sobbed, remembering the scent of the tealeaves and the warmth of the cup in his hands. He wanted to go back to that moment again.
After making his way out of the city he stood on the beach, facing the water. The reflection of the moon stretched across the ocean, and the waves rolled up and down before crashing to the shoreline. The distant light from a boat cut through the darkness as the vessel headed out to sea. It’s probably the boat father was talking about, he thought. He considered yelling to it, but it was too far away and would only reveal his location to the people looking for him. He looked to his left, and then his right, wondering what direction to turn. He chose the right and started walking along the coast, the moonlight guiding his way.
THOMAS STEINBERG ZONED in and out of consciousness. He felt like he was flying, with the toes of his shoes dragging on the ground. A door opened and bright light shined onto his face. He squinted.
An organ played in the background with a choir of fifty people singing to the rhythm of the hymn. Everyone stopped, and the great room became silent when two men dragged Steinberg by his arms up the center aisle. They dropped him in front of a pulpit where David Crullen stood, adorned in a long black robe, facing his congregation.
The two men stepped aside, and Nicolas walked up to the pulpit. “I found another sinner.” He looked down at Thomas, who was trying to climb to his feet. “He said his name is Thomas Steinberg.”
David Crullen stepped out from behind the pulpit and walked up to Thomas. “What makes you believe he is a sinner?” He reached down and placed his hand on Steinberg’s head.
“Because the evil inside him tried to resist entering the house of God. He fought like an animal to get away as we neared closer.”
David quickly removed his hand from Steinberg’s head. “Stand, my brother, and pray to our Lord to forgive you for your sins.”
Thomas grabbed the pulpit and pulled himself to his feet. “What have you done with my son?”
David turned to Nicolas. “There was another?”
“Yes, David, but he was fast and slipped away into the darkness of the night. We tried to catch him, but he vanished as if the hand of Satan himself pulled him away.”
David smacked Nicolas. “Did you not have the power of the Lord with you?”
Nicolas cowered, his arms now raised slightly, anticipating another smack. Blood trickled from his nose. “I did.”
“And is the Lord more powerful than Satan?”
“He is.”
David stepped closer. Enough so Nicolas could feel the heat of his breath as he spoke. “Then tell me how you failed against Satan if you had the Lord on your side.” He inched closer yet, his nose touching the young man’s cheek. “Perhaps your faith is waning and our Lord has forsaken you.”
Nicolas lowered his head and stood quiet.
“You people are crazy,” Thomas yelled. “Where the hell is my son?”
Gasps from the congregation filled the room, and their widen eyes stared at David. They all simultaneously bowed their heads and gestured a cross symbol on their chests before returning their gaze to David.
David approached Thomas, who was balancing himself against the pulpit.
“You dare mention the lair of Satan in the house of God? Do you have no faith whatsoever, my brother?” He stared at the broken man before him. In his sick mind, he actually convinced himself that he had the power to relieve a man from his sins by eating his flesh before sending him to heaven. It was a gift that few mortal men possessed. If nothing else, it did make him, and his congregation, feel less like
animals before consuming each meal of human flesh. It was just another way to cope. David placed his hand gently on Steinberg’s shoulder, as if comforting a child. “At a time not yet determined, we will pray for you while feasting on your sinful body to relinquish the evil that lurks inside. Then, and only then, will you truly be free.” He then nodded to Nicolas who, along with the three others, grabbed Thomas and pulled him to the basement of the church where he was confined to a locked room.
MORNING OR NIGHT HAD no distinguishable differences to Steinberg. The room where he was placed had no windows and was devoid of light, natural or man-made. Sounds became a figment of memory, and if he listened close he thought he heard voices but they never materialized into people, just tricks that his mind played on him. As he sat against the wall of stone for what he could only assume was hours, if not days, the sound of footsteps could be heard in the distance. He convinced himself that it was again his imagination until the wrought iron handle on the wooden door began to rattle. He stared through the dark in the direction of the sound when a crack of light penetrated the room. The door opened.
“On your feet, sinner,” a voice commanded.
David was pulled to his feet by his arms and led down a dimly lit corridor leading to a larger room. The morning sunlight beaming through the room’s large windows was so bright, he could barely see the chair he was pushed into. His hands were tied to its arms, and his feet to the legs.
“Why are you doing this? I’ve done nothing to you people.”
He heard scraping metal coming from somewhere behind him, and immediately recognized it as something being sharpened—maybe an axe or a knife. “You can’t do this,” he yelled.
Nicolas appeared in front of him with a long stainless steel knife in his hand. “And who is to stop me?” He poked the point of the blade into Steinberg’s chin. “You see, Thomas, we must eat and nothing tastes better than the meat of a sinner.” He retrieved the blade. “Have you ever eaten a sinner, Thomas? They taste like chicken in case you’re wondering, a little gamier perhaps.”