The First

by Glen Kenner

  -The Civil War?

  -I believe John referred to it as the War of Northern Aggression.

  -It wasn’t like that, Sarah.

  I try to reach out to hold her hands but she pulls back.

  -That’s not exactly-

  Kingsley lets out a long breath and continues.

  -Anyway, I went to your apartment one night, Jonathan. You won’t remember. Your memory has always been so terrible. But I brought a friendly girl you used to go with, a girl that would keep you occupied while I excused myself to use the bathroom. The girl was Alice Lloyd. Do you remember Alice Lloyd, Jonathan? No? I wouldn’t expect you would. You’ve been with so many, many woman. I don’t know how any one woman could ever truly be special to you anymore. Anyway, I went into your room, found the letters from Sarah, read the last few and knew everything I needed to know. So I grabbed an older letter and made an excuse to leave. I had a man I knew find the same stationary and forge her handwriting. And then I simply went to Sarah’s apartment at the time she said in the letter that she would have an answer for you whether or not to elope. It was to be in two days. Sunday at ten in the morning. I stopped in a nine forty-five. Her parents were out, at church. She let me in thinking it would be you, and I told her that you let me in on the secret. She was so happy to tell me that she had decided to elope.

  Right then it felt like Kingsley put a knife in my chest and turned it one way and then another. Sarah had decided to elope with me. She had decided to be my wife.

  Kingsley slides Glen Ray’s untouched steak over to himself and cuts off a piece and puts it in his mouth, chews and swallows.

  -I knew what I had to do, of course. I told her you wanted me to grab her bags and she led me to her bedroom. She had three suitcases on the bed. I want you to know that I never touched Sarah inappropriately. I thought of it only for a second knowing that’s what other men would have done. She was the most beautiful young woman in New York. Truly she was. But I didn’t molest her. I did grab her up, however, and stepped out onto her balcony, and simply tossed her over. Eight stories down and she landed face up on the long hood of a Rolls Royce. I’ll never forget how much her bright blonde hair and pale skin contrasted with the black metal or how the morning shadows blanketed her body on the car and the blood that pooled under her head seemed to turn the shadow dark red.

  Kingsley pauses and stares up at the ceiling with such a serene look on his face that it’s impossible he’s not seeing the entire scene play out in front of him and finding some meaning in it still after nearly a hundred years that would only make sense to a psychopath. He snaps out of it after just a few seconds and continues talking.

  -I put some of her perfume on the letter, put it on the desk for someone to find and then heard a knock. You were at the door. What amazing timing, Jonathan. I put the suitcases under the bed and stepped into her armoire as you let yourself in. You called out her name and finally came into the bedroom. I could see you quite clearly through the keyhole. You saw the note, read it, saw the open door to the balcony, rushed out and must have seen her as I did. I guess you dropped the letter because I found it on the floor. I followed you down the stairs and saw you head down Fifth Avenue and disappear. That was the last time I saw you. Until just last week.

  My vision is narrowing and everything is tinting red. I’m shaking. I realize that my palms are wet from blood as my nails dig into my own flesh. Kingsley is still talking but I can no longer make out his words; sounds seem far away, muted, submerged. It’s becoming hard for me to focus but I see Kingsley looking at me, as if he’s amused with a new toy, while he plays with the fork in his hand. The fork drops to the floor and Kingsley ducks down under the table. He’s gone. Completely disappeared from my vision. Then there are hands on mine. It’s Sarah. My Sarah. Sarah’s hands. She says John? Johnny?

  -I have to kill him.

  -No, Johnny.

  Sarah’s voice is coming from a thousand miles away. From a hundred years in the past.

  -No. No more killing.

  She lifts a hand to my cheek and moves my head up and over and looks me in the eyes.

  -It’s ok, Johnny. It’s going to be ok. Please trust-

  There’s a small sound from far away. A muted pop. Sarah pulls away and there’s a bolt of hot pain on the side of my head. I put my hand to the pain and then pull it back and look at it and it’s covered in blood. I look up and Glen Ray is looking across the table. I follow his gaze and see Sarah’s hands tightly holding Kingsley by the head. His throat is shredded, bloody flesh and she’s holding his head six inches above his shoulders. His eyes are wide and his mouth is open but no sound comes out. Glen Ray’s right hand is covering Kingsley’s left hand but there’s a blackened and bloody hole in the center of the back of Glen Ray’s hand and as he pulls it back gingerly I see the small pistol he tried to grab from Kingsley. I take a deep breath and the acrid smell of sulphur fills my lungs and shakes me from my trance. Glen Ray looks back at me.

  -Dude, he shot off your ear.

  Fuck me.

  27 - Monsters Are Real

  Me and Sarah and Glen Ray and Barry stand in the foyer in front of the hole that used to be Barry’s front door. Sarah hasn’t looked at me since ripping Kingsley’s head from his body. Glen Ray looks uncomfortable. Barry’s face is pale. He puts out his hand to shake and we all ignore it. Barry looks at the bodies on the front porch and in the yard and asks what’s he going to do about all of this?

  Glen Ray lets out a little laugh.

  -You’re a rich fucker. Lawyer up.

  I look Barry in the eyes.

  -You’re going to shut everything down. Make it all disappear.

  -I have no choice but to shut everything down. Mr Kingsley funded our entire operation with monthly payments for salaries and research and operating costs. We are one hundred percent research. We don’t have any clients. He wired the money personally every single month. I don’t know who else in his organization even knows we exist.

  Sarah looks at me and then out over the lawn.

  -What happens when someone in New York figures it out? When someone contacts you and wants to continue the operation?

  Barry takes a small involuntary step backward and looks at me and raises his hands.

  -Hey guys. John. I have a son. Mason. My sister’s son that I adopted. He’s probably a First. If… if he survives First Death in a few years, I want him to live openly, not hiding like you’ve had to do.

  I let out a long breath. Damnit.

  -Will you let me know? Before you start back up? I won’t stop you. I swear. I just want to know. To be ready.

  -I will.

  -Nothing good will come out of Aka Kage, Barry. I wish you knew humanity like I do. You’d never have created the program to begin with if you did.

  Barry shrugs his shoulders slightly and looks down at the floor.

  Sarah is the first to walk outside. She doesn’t seem to look around at all, just looks up the driveway to the street, steps over the two bodies on the porch, and starts walking. Glen Ray follows five feet behind her. He looks at the hole where the door was and then over his shoulder at the huge hole in the front of the house that used to be the picture window. He looks over the bodies in the yard but like Sarah, he doesn’t stop. I put my hand out for Barry and shake it. He seems to relax.

  -We’ll see each other again, Barry. But I hope it’s not for a long time.

  I step over the bodies and watch Sarah up ahead. I can’t fathom how she’s dealing with everything she’s been through tonight. The last two weeks. And now she knows my history more clearly than I might have ever told her. But it’s for the best. I deserve to have all of my crimes laid bare and to suffer the consequences. There’s no one left to give me absolution. I haven’t left anyone alive to do so.

  Kingsley knew this about me. He saw it all so clearly. I’ve been blind.

  Barry suddenly shouts out.

  -Wait! John, wait!

  I stop and see Glen Ray a
nd Sarah both slow and then turn around.

  -You said nothing good will come from Aka Kage. You said that.

  I walk back to Barry.

  -Yeah, that’s what I said. You don’t understand humanity, Barry.

  -But you’re talking about Firsts and regular people. Thirds. Humanity. But what about Seconds? Aka Kage can help!

  -No, Barry. It can’t.

  Sarah steps up from behind me and stands next to me now. Glen Ray stands on my other side. Everyone is looking at me.

  -Seconds don’t go to airports or bus stations or the mall. Not during the day, anyway. They hide away, coming out only to hunt and kill and eat. The tracking software, at best, will only pick up blips and then they’ll be gone.

  -Don’t you understand, John? Kingsley must not have told you everything. The tech is far more advanced than you seem to think. Within a year we’ll be able to pick up the frequency of a Second from a quarter of a mile away. Even a hundred feet underground. We’re testing drones right now that will criss-cross the country searching out the frequency. Aka Kage will make a difference, John!

  -How do you know the frequency of a Second, Barry? You don’t. You can’t. Seconds don’t volunteer for goddamn lab experiments, for Christ’s sake!

  -I- I’m confused. Come back in. Come in, John. Everyone. Let me show you something.

  He turns around and walks through the hole and into the foyer. He heads down the hallway toward the kitchen. Sarah goes in first, then Glen Ray and I follow. What the hell is he talking about?

  We follow him into the kitchen. No one looks over at Kingsley’s slumped over body or his head lying on his chest. Barry walks through a doorway and into a mudroom. There are shoes and coats and sports equipment on the wall. I see a pair of Barry’s sneakers - Vans - and look inside one. Size 12. I’m an 11 1/2. Close enough. I put them on without him noticing.

  -My wife and Mason and my two daughters are at her sister’s. I sent them away when Kingsley showed up with his men.

  We go out a back door and see an SUV behind the house. Barry opens the back passenger door and rummages around and pulls something from the pocket in the door. It’s Kingsley’s tablet. He opens it and it’s locked.

  He walks past us and back into the house. Is he right-handed or left-handed, he asks over his shoulder.

  -Left.

  I start to go back in but remember something and quickly go back to the SUV and search through the pockets and glove box. Nothing. Maybe-

  -Bossman! Come on!

  In the kitchen, Barry kneels down next to Kingsley’s left hand.

  -I- I- can’t. Sorry. Can you press his thumb against the screen? Right here.

  Sarah presses Kingsley’s thumb on the screen and drops his hand as the screen changes. We all step away from Kingsley as Barry flips through the folders and finds the one he’s looking for.

  -Kingsley showed me a video once, maybe two years ago. I’m betting it’s still on here… And here it is.

  He presses play and puts the tablet down on the counter and we gather around and watch.

  It takes a moment for us to figure out what we’re seeing. There’s a metal table and a metal chair in a room that looks to be carved out of rock. Maybe it’s underground. It’s not well lit and hard to see much detail. The bottom fourth of the screen shows several indicators in red and white and green, all of them flat. There’s dim light from behind the camera and then there’s a voice.

  -R’ka. R’ka. Venite commodo. Venite.

  Barry looks up.

  -Latin.

  I translate for everyone.

  -Come please. Come. But r’ka isn’t Latin.

  Barry shrugs. Damnit there’s a lot of shrugging tonight.

  The voice again from offscreen.

  -R’ka. R’ka.

  The indicators at the bottom of the screen pick up the frequency of the voice and then fall back when it goes silent.

  A gray shape walks into view and into the light. It’s a Second.

  -Holy mother of…

  Glen Ray takes a step backward.

  Now one of the indicators jumps up and the numbers start flipping underneath it until they hit 87 kHz.

  Sarah takes my hand and squeezes. I glance at her and she’s fixated on the screen.

  The Second is slightly blurred at the edges, but I can make out her features, her over-sized black eyes, her small nose and thin lips. She’s naked and thin with small breasts. Her stringy hair falls below the edge of the table. She’s looking slightly to the left of the camera and sits down on the chair and then lifts one hand and rests it on the metal table, her thin fingers ending in dark, ragged claws. She drags one claw across the table and leaves a deep scratch in the metal. There are other scratches in the metal. Patterns.

  -Amicus.

  The voice again from offscreen.

  -Amicus.

  I whisper, friend.

  -R’ka. Amicus.

  Amicus, the Second says with no difficulty at all. Her jagged teeth barely show and her voice is quiet and slightly metallic and seems to have a high and low pitch as if it’s being spoken by more than one mouth. It’s eerie and disturbing and unnatural but also soothing like the cabin noise of an airplane at night, 35,000 miles above the ocean.

  The Second looks off screen and then makes a long deep scratch in the table.

  -Famelicus.

  -Amicus?

  -Famelicus. R’ka famelicus.

  A long metal pole comes from the right side of the screen. There’s something long and dark hooked at the end of the pole and when it comes into the light to rest on the table and the Second pulls it free, we all realize it’s a human leg cut high near the hip. The Second hunches over it and opens her mouth wide with all of those teeth and rips a bloody chunk from the thigh. Barry looks away with a quiet moan. The camera stays on the Second as she tears more and more flesh from the leg, mashing each large bite a few times between her teeth and then swallowing. Within a minute the leg is reduced to bones only and she snaps these in her mouth and digs out the marrow with her claws until the bones themselves are only bloody splinters lying on the table.

  The voice again calls out from off screen.

  -R’ka? Amicus?

  -Amicus. Sic amicus.

  She stands slowly and looks from the voice to the camera with black pupilless eyes. She turns around and as she walks back out of the light and into the dimness of the room, she quietly begins to sing just above a whisper. I hear only a small part of it until it completely fades. It’s the song from the dark place and I know it from beginning to end.

  She’s the Second I lived with for six thousand years. The Second I fought. The Second that didn’t kill me when she easily could have.

  I’m squeezing Sarah’s hand hard enough to break her bones if she were a Third. Or most Firsts. She squeezes back to get my attention and when I look at her she asks me if I’m ok. I put my lips to her ear and whisper.

  -I know the Second. I know her.

  28 - Save Your Strength

  We take Kingsley’s SUV to Maurice’s gym. Glen Ray drives and I point the way, barely speaking the directions. We pull up in the parking lot and the clock in the SUV shows it’s thirteen minutes past midnight. Late.

  Before we get out, Glen Ray asks me what was I looking for on the dead guys in the study before we left.

  -You saw that, huh?

  -Yeah, bossman. I did.

  I pull a small snack-sized ziplock baggie from my front pocket.

  -Is that what I think it is?

  Inside is one piece of what looks to be jerky.

  -You tell me.

  I hand him the bag and get out of the SUV.

  -Holy shit! MaxHealth+!

  Maurice meets us at the door with an outstretched hand and then wide eyes when he sees the condition we’re in.

  -I hope the other guys look worse.

  -They’re all dead.

  Maurice looks at Sarah as she says this flatly and then to me with half a
smile on his face and shakes his head once.

  -Hey brother, thanks so much for meeting us. Tonight’s been crazy. Let me introduce you to my posse.

  I gesture to Sarah.

  -This is Sarah. You’ve undoubtedly heard about her in the last few days. The truth is, Sarah’s just your typical second year law student from Texas. When she’s not studying, she enjoys long walks on the beach, fights to the death, and ballet.

  Everyone lets out a sudden laugh.

  -This is Glen Ray, aka Dr DJ G Ray Ray. Don’t let the lady-killer moves and silky deep voice fool you, he’s actually white. And he’s from Cleveland.

  -I’m actually from… Oh, yeah. I am from Cleveland.

  -Everyone…

  I take Maurice’s hand and give the big man a big one-armed man-hug.

  -...this is Maurice. A helluva friend, a decent singer of Motown classics, and the best damn drinking buddy I’ve ever had. And if you knew who I’ve gotten drunk with, you’d know that’s saying something.

  Glen Ray shakes his hand and Sarah does the same and then gives him a hug.

  -Maurice is from a shit stain of a town in Louisiana and came up to St Louis in ‘32 with his old man to avoid some trouble with the town folk. Being ten years old and black and already six foot tall and still growing, and this ugly-

  He punches me in the chest, hard, but with a smile.

  -was a lynchable offense at the time. Might still be. Maurice hasn’t been back to check.

  We shouldn’t laugh at the thought of a ten year old nearly being lynched. But we do. It’s those bottled up emotions coming out at the most inopportune time. We all have plenty of them to let out after tonight.