by Seth Rain
‘What now?’ Luke asked.
‘I guess we wait,’ Scott said.
Luke paced back and forth. He checked his watch.
Ten minutes passed with Scott watching Dawn closely, waiting for clues to what might happen.
‘What do you think it’s like?’ Scott asked. ‘An eternity of Heaven? How does it work?’
Luke was next to Saul’s bed. ‘I don’t know. But Saul doesn’t deserve it.’
‘No,’ Scott said. ‘But maybe it’s not what you think.’
Luke stared at the sleeping body.
Scott saw what Luke was thinking. ‘It’s no use,’ Scott said. ‘They’ll wake you the moment they find you. Maybe do something even worse.’
Luke sighed deeply. ‘Yeah.’ He stopped to gaze into Saul’s eyes. ‘I don’t think people get what they deserve. Not really. It’s all just a bundle of stuff happening and you take your chances. We like to think people get what they deserve but I don’t think that happens, does it?’
‘No.’
‘He said he’d be back. He was never going to come back, was he?’
‘No.’
‘I don’t know why I don’t see things like that. You did. You saw it straight away.’
‘Maybe I’m just cynical. I don’t trust many people.’
‘Nobody?’
‘Very few people.’
‘What will we do with the rest of them?’ Luke asked, gesturing around at the ward.
‘I don’t know. But we can’t do anything now.’
Luke sighed. ‘We’ve made a real mess of things, huh? People.’
Scott pressed his lips into a thin line.
Luke walked to the window at the end of the ward, a black silhouette against the dark blue moonlight.
Dawn gasped for air as though she was coming up from beneath water. She sat up straight, her arms grasping for something. She choked, her face contorted, in pain, then gave a cry like Scott had never heard before. ‘No, no, no,’ she repeated, shaking her head. She pushed a hand to her chest, then held her stomach and the baby with both hands. Scott was by her side, but Dawn couldn’t seem to see him. Her eyes wide, her mouth open, she gasped for air.
‘Dawn,’ Scott said. ‘It’s Scott.’ He looked at Luke for help.
‘No!’ Dawn hollered. ‘Please … no …’ Her brow furrowed, her lips trembling, she shook her head over and over again.
Scott placed a hand on her shoulder.
Dawn flinched at his touch and looked through him, perhaps searching for the place he’d pulled her from.
‘I’m sorry,’ Scott said. ‘Dawn. I’m sorry.’
Finally, her eyes focused on his. At that moment, he felt her loss.
Twenty-Eight
Scott had heard crying like it before – his own, as a child, filled with genuine distress and self-pity. That’s what it was: horror at what was happening to her.
‘Dawn,’ Scott whispered again. It was all he could think to say, as if using her name would remind her who she was.
Dawn sobbed, her crying reaching new depths of sorrow.
‘Dawn. Please. Your baby.’
He tried holding her, but she pushed him away, as if his touch burned.
‘Dawn!’ he said, raising his voice.
Luke was by his side, his hands reaching out but not touching Dawn.
Her eyes were on Luke, and as though recalling a distant memory, she pointed at him. ‘You! No!’ She kicked out at him. ‘Stay away from me.’
The drug was there, and the needle; Scott knew he could return her to where she’d been. Wherever that was.
Luke backed away from the bed, his hands held up in surrender.
Dawn cried, sobbed, pushed the sheets away and tore at her clothes. ‘No!’ she muttered over and over. ‘Please, no!’
Scott held his hands over his ears and closed his eyes. He waited, the sound of Dawn’s crying now muffled. He listened to his own breathing, aware of his body, his chest filling then emptying of air. He heard his heart beating, then opened his eyes and watched Dawn, hunched over, her shoulders shivering. She covered her face as tears rolled down her forearm, mixing with the small thread of blood seeping from where he’d taken out the needle.
Scott went over to her. He tried holding her, attempting to reach her, but the more he tried, the more she pushed back and lashed out at him. She was inconsolable.
Eventually her crying began to wane, transforming into something different.
‘Dawn?’ he said.
‘Is this real?’ she asked. ‘Am I here?’
‘Dawn, it’s Scott.’
Dawn’s head fell back against the pillow. It took a moment, but her eyes focused on his. It was as though she didn’t recognise him, as though they’d met years ago. Her eyes narrowed on him, squinting.
‘It’s Scott,’ he said again. ‘Scott.’
Her eyes flashed across his face. She closed her eyes. ‘Is this real?’
‘Yes. You’re going to have a baby. Your baby. Remember?’
She held her stomach protectively. Tears rolled down her face.
‘It’s okay,’ Scott said.
Dawn shook her head slowly. ‘It’s not okay. It’s not okay. My mum. My brother.’
Scott’s throat closed up. He had to look away. ‘I’m sorry.’
Dawn wiped her eyes. ‘I can’t do this.’ She stared up at the clear bag hanging next to the bed. ‘Take me back,’ she said. ‘Please.’
‘You can do this,’ Scott said. ‘We can do it.’
She sniffed back tears. ‘It was…’ She closed her eyes. ‘I can’t describe…’
Scott held her hand and she squeezed it, staring at him. ‘I was happy. It went on and on – warmth, happiness. I was inside it all, moving through time backwards and forwards and nothing mattered. And all the time, I was being held, and it was where I needed to be. Put me back, Scott. Put me back.’ She covered her face. ‘I felt love. From beginning to end.’
‘I didn’t know what to do,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know what was for the best.’ He stared at her stomach. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know what you’d want me to do.’
Dawn pursed her lips and nodded. But there was no forgiveness in her eyes.
‘How long have I been under?’ she asked.
‘Not sure. Maybe four or five hours?’
Outside the sun would soon rise.
‘We need to leave,’ Scott said to Luke, who stood waiting, his arms folded.
‘It felt like years,’ Dawn said. ‘On and on, day after day … happiness.’
Scott was about to apologise again but stopped. It was no use. There were no words.
Twenty-Nine
There was a gunshot, then a second. The door swung open. Noah, holding two revolvers, checked both directions along the corridor. Finally, he peered inside the room at Scott. His expression darkened. Scott had not seen himself in a mirror for some time but could imagine what Noah saw. He knew he’d lost weight, that his hair and beard had grown.
‘We need to leave,’ Noah said.
‘What’s the date?’ Scott asked.
Noah tilted his head and in a low voice, said, ‘It’s time. Tomorrow.’
Scott stood and walked to the door.
‘I’m sorry,’ Noah said. ‘I couldn’t get close enough to get you out. I tried. Everyone has left now. There’s no one here.’
‘And you tried to warn me.’
‘You don’t listen,’ Noah said.
‘Do you know where Freya is?’ Scott asked.
Noah nodded and pointed along the corridor. ‘She’ll be in the one at the end.’
Scott walked into the corridor and stumbled, not used to walking. He bounced off the wall, heading in the direction Noah had pointed. ‘Freya!’ he shouted.
‘Keep it down,’ Noah said, following him. ‘They’re preparing for the Rapture but there are Watchers not too far away.’
Scott reached the end of the corridor and tried to open the door. It was locked. He st
ood back, glanced at Noah’s revolvers and nodded to the door handle.
Noah banged on the door with the side of his fist. ‘Stand back!’ he shouted. He aimed at the door and fired both revolvers at the lock. The door jolted and swung open.
Scott ran into the room. ‘Freya!’
His eyes darted from one scared face to another. There must have been a dozen women in the room, huddled in small groups, peering at him. They were young, wide-eyed, petrified.
He wanted to tell them he wasn’t there to hurt them, but the look in their eyes told him they wouldn’t believe him.
‘Scott?’ one woman said to him.
‘Freya?’ Scott stared. It was her, but not…
She stood and ran to him.
He held her and it all came back to him – the shape of her body, the smell of her hair, the sound of her voice.
‘What’s happening?’ Noah asked, edging into the room.
Freya collected herself, her eyes trained on Scott’s the whole time. ‘Women arrive here every other week. And then they get taken away, one at a time.’
‘What for?’ Scott asked.
Freya shook her head. ‘I don’t know,’ she said, lowering her voice. ‘Only some of them return. When they do, they tell me they were given a drug that made them forget – everything. They don’t know what happens to them.’
One young woman stood and reached for Freya’s hand.
Scott scanned the room again, examining each young woman’s face. ‘What’s Mathew doing to them?’
‘I don’t know, but we need to get you out of here,’ Noah said.
Freya looked around the room slowly.
‘Freya?’ Scott said, reaching for her face and stroking one finger down her cheek. ‘We need to leave.’
Freya stared into his eyes. ‘It is nearly time,’ she said.
Scott frowned. ‘That doesn’t matter. We have to leave.’
Freya shook her head slowly. ‘I’m sorry, my love.’
Scott let her go and took a step back.
‘I can’t leave them,’ she said. ‘There’s another woman – a girl really. She’s not here, but will be soon. I told her I’d be here when she returned.’ She pursed her lips. ‘I can’t leave them, Scott.’
The young women looked broken, hopeless. Scott couldn’t help thinking that it was too late to help them.
Freya’s eyes filled with tears. ‘My date’s tomorrow,’ she said.
‘So is mine,’ Scott said.
‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s not. I know it’s not. You don’t know the year – I know mine. It’s my time, Scott.’
‘Maybe it isn’t. Maybe it won’t happen.’
Freya held Scott’s hands and kissed him. ‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘You saw what happened to Jack and his men.’ She laid a hand on his arm. ‘It’s okay.’
‘It’s not,’ he said. ‘Come with me.’
‘I can’t. I can’t do it, Scott.’
He knew what she meant. Scott had felt it himself – that whatever was going to happen would happen anyway. There was no choosing.
‘It’s not your time, Scott. I know it’s not. You have to go – there’s more you need to do.’ She kissed him again. ‘I knew there was something different about you from the beginning. That you were going to be important. All that time ago, in the Rapture Bar. Do you remember?’
‘I remember.’
She nodded and smiled weakly. ‘I told you then to do as I said.’
‘You told me not to follow Dearil. You told me to go home.’
‘And you ignored me.’ She gripped his hands more tightly.
He couldn’t look at her.
‘Well, now I’m telling you what to do again,’ she said, lifting her head to make eye contact with him. ‘But this time you have to listen and do as I say.’
Scott lifted his head and stared into her eyes.
‘I knew from the beginning you’d have to make sacrifices,’ she said. ‘That you would have to make difficult choices. But I also knew you could do it. You have to fight, Scott. Humanity needs people like you.’
Scott shook his head gently.
‘Don’t do that,’ Freya said. ‘You’re a good man, Scott. You’re brave.’
Scott glanced over at Noah, who was staring back at him, waiting.
‘Are you listening?’ Freya asked, her voice firm.
Scott stroked her cheek with a thumb, wiping away tears.
There was a loud banging on the other side of the wall.
‘Go!’ Freya said, pushing him away.
‘Freya?’ Scott said. ‘Please. Come with me.’
She smiled weakly, ‘It’s not the end of the world.’
Scott kissed her. ‘Only humanity.’
‘Go,’ she said again, and walked over to a group of women huddled on the bed next to the wall.
Noah tugged at Scott’s arm. ‘We have to go. Come on.’
‘Freya?’ Scott said again.
She ignored him.
‘I love you!’ he said. ‘I’ll come back for you. When this is all over.’
Freya covered her mouth and nodded, trying to smile.
A crashing sound, closer.
‘Scott!’ Noah said, tugging him away and into the corridor.
Thirty
Scott took one last look along the street. They were alone. He closed the door and walked into the dark café.
‘Don’t touch me,’ Dawn said to Luke, batting away his hands.
Luke waited for Dawn to sit before taking a step back.
‘I didn’t know you were pregnant,’ Luke said, pointing to her stomach. ‘When Saul said—’
‘And if you had known, would that have stopped you tying me up and letting him take me?’
Luke backed away even further.
‘There’s no point arguing over that now,’ Scott said. ‘We need to think about what we’re going to do. I think we’ll be okay here for a while.’
Someone had already emptied the café of bodies, and most of the food and drink.
Scott found several bottles of water and lemonade still in date and placed them on the table. Dawn took a lemonade and drained the bottle in one go.
‘I’m not sure we’ll find much to eat,’ Scott said, handing Luke a bottle of water.
‘I’m not hungry,’ Dawn said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
‘You need to eat,’ Scott said. ‘Think of the baby.’
‘I’m fine,’ she said.
Scott drank from a bottle of water.
‘What are we doing?’ she asked.
‘We need to stop Mathew and the AI,’ Scott said. ‘Like you said.’
‘How?’
‘By using the passwords.’
‘How do we do that?’ Dawn asked. ‘We don’t have Mathew’s. The other two are useless without his.’
Scott took another long drink from his bottle, placed it on the table, and took a deep breath.
‘I want to tell you both the passwords,’ he said. ‘In case anything happens to me. If Mathew uses one of those drugs on me, or locks me up.’
Luke shook his head. ‘I don’t want to know them.’
Scott looked him in the eyes. ‘I know. But this is important. If anything happens to me or Juliet, then no one on the planet will know the passwords. There’ll be no way of stopping Mathew.’
Dawn stared at her hands, her fingers intertwined, resting on the table.
‘Maybe we can reason with him,’ Scott said. ‘With Mathew.’
Dawn shook her head. ‘He won’t listen.’
‘We have to try,’ Scott said.
The three of them waited in silence.
Scott walked over to the window at the front of the café and again checked the street. They were alone. He turned to see Dawn and Luke staring at him.
‘Rudbeckia goldsturm,’ he said. ‘Juliet’s password: Rudbeckia goldsturm.’
Luke sat on one chair. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s a flower. I’m gu
essing her favourite.’
‘I need you to spell it for me,’ Scott said.
Dawn didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.
Luke spelled it out.
‘The second password,’ Scott said, ‘is Daedalus.’
Again, Luke sighed. ‘And what’s that?’
‘He was the father of Icarus – the boy who flew too close to the sun with his man-made wings and fell into the sea. D - a - e - d - a - l - u - s. Daedalus.’
Luke nodded.
‘Dawn?’ Scott asked.
‘I can remember them,’ she said, not looking at him.
‘Good,’ he said.
Scott walked to the rear of the café, through the kitchen and up a flight of stairs. He expected to see the familiar sight of people lying naked on beds. But the two bedrooms were empty. One room was used as an office with stacks of folders and papers leaning against the far wall and an old battered desk, upon which was an old laptop, still open, its screen cracked, coated in a thick layer of dust. In the other room was a double bed, the bedclothes tidy, stretched across in military crispness.
Back downstairs, he told Dawn about the bed. ‘Are you tired?’
‘I’m fine. I’ve been asleep for long enough,’ she said, staring at her hands.
Scott felt Luke’s eyes on him.
It was no use arguing with her. Dawn was different now. The way she spoke to him showed her disapproval of him waking her from … wherever she had been. He still couldn’t comprehend it. Not completely. That she had been in Heaven, for what felt like years. And he’d taken her away from there.
‘Luke, there’s another room upstairs. Take some bedding from the other bedroom and see if you can make up somewhere to sleep.’
Luke nodded, then glanced at Dawn before heading upstairs.
Scott listened to Luke’s footsteps through the ceiling.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I should have left you there.’
Dawn stared blankly.
‘I didn’t know what to do,’ he said. ‘I thought, because of the baby, that—’
‘It’s done,’ she said. ‘It’s done.’