by Sarah Swan
In that way, he felt much older than the guests at the party. He had been rejected his whole life, and was always the odd one out socially. No girls looked at him, much less spoke to him. The guys who spoke only did so as they bullied him. But that didn’t matter anymore. He had long since learned to shut all that out, to attune himself to the bigger picture. He watched a group of girls enter, far on the other side of the room, and quickly start dancing to the song. He sneered. All the people before him were sheep, nothing more, simply following whatever was popular at the moment. How sad it was to think their behavior was so predictable.
But there was more to it than that. Spurred on by being the outcast, he developed an insatiable greed for control. That was what he really wanted, he thought: knowing that he could pull all the strings and make anybody dance. Soon, the scope of his control would reach momentous levels.
In a way, these get-togethers were his first taste of control. Known by all around him as a pathetic loner, who could possibly suspect him to be the one actually hosting these magnificent parties? The label he had been given without asking was a perfect cover. It was his first exposure to the art of deception. And to power. Many of the people he now spied upon had culled him at one time or another. He held the penultimate decision of who would be welcome here every time he played host. It was an odd kind of justice, a strange game he played while waiting to be dealt his real hand. Now that he had, the wait was over. Very soon, his life, and the lives of everyone around him, would change irreversibly.
He trembled with anticipation. When his plans finally came to fruition, it would make up for a lifetime of inadequacy. He had felt that way from the moment his mother had abandoned him and his father when he was but a small child. She had run away with another man. From that moment on, he swore he would make her pay for the damage she had done to him, her own son, and to her husband, his beloved father.
Oh father, but you rejected me too. His father was a strong man, proud and determined. However, he had never shared his son’s anger at his wife. He, too, had that ingrained displeasure of being anything less than great. How it must have irked him to subject himself to all the juvenile, petty politics of his profession. How many years had he endured the tedious colleagues, the mindless students? Here was a man destined for greatness—no. He had already tasted greatness, but backed away to pursue an even greater power. The boy considered that thought. He was a man much like his father.
Not a man yet, though, he thought bitterly. Not in his father’s eyes. But, as soon as the current plan came to fruition, all that would change rapidly. His innate yearning for acceptance would be satisfied.
He caught sight of Liz, the new president of the student council. Seeing her made him smile. How naïve they all were, thinking that this mansion had been gifted to them by the alumni. And that said nothing for the bottles of liquor that were always placed out in the open, freely available to any who so chose. Nobody knew who actually hosted these events. Nobody but him. It suited him well.
Recently, he had started thinking of himself as a chameleon, able to adapt to any situation. No. A spider, weaving his web in the dark and ensnaring his unsuspecting victims. Yes, that was a better description. And already the web was taut with all those he had caught. Most had no idea they were trapped.
Where was the new girl? He had made sure the invitation was slipped under her door. Perhaps she hadn’t gotten it in time? Or perhaps she didn’t appreciate the prestige of being invited to one of these parties yet. No matter! She would, soon, once she found her groundings in the social life on campus. That would make her putty in his hands.
He sneered once again. All the petty games his peers played socially here paled in comparison to the one he was playing. It was the great game, the likes of which the world had never seen before. It started when an ancient secret was uncovered, a discovery made, and the potential of it all finally understood. He stood at the helm. Entire nations would tremble before him, one day soon. The whole world will be within his grasp. It would be a shocking life journey for someone deemed insignificant many times before.
The island, and the school here, were key. This was where the secret had been laid to rest. And it was here where it was uncovered again, and its potential finally revealed. It had been his father’s life work for the better part of the last decade. It was nearly time to reap the rewards.
There were… complications, of course. But they were insignificant and could be overcome. Would be overcome. Failure was not an acceptable outcome, neither for him or his father.
He touched the small pendant around his neck. It was the first discovery he had made, all on his own. It contributed greatly to his father’s cause. Of course, his father had dismissed it as a mere toy. He was blind to the true utility of it. It could detect the aura of the precious—
His thoughts were interrupted as he caught a flash of auburn hair at the door, and instantly recognized it as belonging to the new girl. Ah, Tracy Bachman. So. She had come after all. He smiled, and settled back in his enclave. This was going to be a very productive night.
For the next few minutes, he watched Tracy carefully. He felt he could see her through the crowd – impossible, of course – but every time she disappeared behind a swarm of bodies, he found her again mere seconds after she popped back out. He had met her already, but she, of course, had no idea who he really was. In fact, from the moment they met, he felt a sort of distant connection with her, and thought she shared it with him. That could complicate matters, a little bit, but he was positive he would have no trouble using her when the time came.
He stroked the pendant absently. It was a red ruby, swirled with intoxicating threads of black, and little bigger than his thumb. It was very precious to him. He frequently found solace in its smooth glassy surface. It was the one thing in this world that was his own, the one thing he had found himself, and the one thing that would never abandon him. It was safe and true, and he loved it for that.
Tracy had entered the room with that other blonde girl, the one who was the very spitting image of Liz. What was her name again? He thought hard, but couldn’t remember. Insignificant details like that sometimes escaped him. But she had left Tracy by herself. It was something he did not expect. She was now walking over to one side, to where the drinks were being served. He had half a mind to intercept her on the way, to come out of the dark hole he was in, but thought better of it. Better to watch and observe for now, and then make his move later.
He watched as Tracy waited in the line at the bar, and, eventually, got her first drink. She looked to be joking with the guy serving the alcohol. But that quickly ended. Pushed to one side by the rest of the line, she started looking around a little anxiously. Surely, the novelty and clamor of the party was overwhelming to her, especially since she’d never been to the mansion before. He knew every square inch of the building like the back of his hand, and could see past the seemingly chaotic movement. What was the new girl thinking, now? Was it fear, or apprehension? Was it unease with her current environment? That blonde she had come here with was nowhere to be found. Was she one of those who hadn’t had a drink before, and was now experiencing her first effects of alcohol?
The crowd bunched up in front of him, and Tracy was lost from sight. He tried moving his head to look around them, but they made a thick wall. Curse these people! He was not uneasy about letting the new girl go, exactly, but he wanted it to be on his terms. He was the one who should decide when he grew bored with watching her, not be subject to the whims of the crowd!
He tapped his fingers on the pendant as he waited for the people to move aside. There was nothing else to do, now. That uncharacteristic burst of impatience he just felt bothered him. His whole life had been spent waiting in the shadows. What were a few more minutes, now? Still, not knowing what the girl was doing gnawed at him in a completely unfamiliar way.
The crowd parted, only for a second, and he found her again. She was talking to someone tall and muscular… ah.
It was Rob, Liz’s mindless boy-toy. Was this girl so vain as to be impressed by someone like him? He sincerely hoped not! But if she were…
Suddenly the pendant grew warm against his hand. His eyes went wide. No! He pushed himself out quickly and stepped into the crowd. He tried to shove through, toward Tracy. The bodies were packed too thick. An instant later, the pendant grew hot again, almost scalding to the touch. It lasted longer this time. His anxiety increased. He tried to shoulder his way past the people, keeping his head down so as not to be recognized. Before he got even two steps forward, he heard a disgruntled yell. The voice stood out over all the sounds of the party. He knew it came from Rob.
He pushed through a group of girls, and emerged to find Rob by himself. Where had Tracy gone? She had been here just seconds ago!
Suddenly, he understood what Rob was yelling, and everything clicked. Rob was yelling after her. Tracy was rushing the other way. Well, it was too late to interject now. He stood for a second, staring after her. As the other people all milled in around him, dancing to the music in their own little world, he smiled. They were all oblivious to the real tides of power that were swarming around them.
He made no farther move toward Tracy. Best he stick to the shadows. They had served him well in the past. None at the party knew his true identity. Let them all think him weak and vulnerable during the day. The truth of what he yearned for would take him far past any of these insignificant people.
He had one responsibility now, and that was to tell father what had just happened. Keeping to the shadows, he hurried out of the building, and slipped into the night.
Chapter Twelve – A Long Night
As we carried Liz down the stairs and onto the dark street, a sinking kind of despair started to wash over me. The clinic was far away – a good thirty minute walk, at least. And that was without the burden of carrying someone teetering in and out of consciousness. I only hoped we could get there fast enough.
I had no idea what had happened in that room. I was absolutely mortified to think what would have happened to Liz had I not come in. I had no idea what had happened back at the party with the blue light, either. It was not something I imagined. I knew it had occurred, no matter how strange it seemed. Everything had just frozen in time when the light was there. It was one of the most surreal moments of my life.
Liz groaned weakly, pulling me back to the moment. She raised her head for a second, and I thought I saw her eyes flicker open. But before I could tell, her head drooped back down.
“How long was she like this?” I asked Zoe. Madison was a good twenty paces ahead of us, walking stiffly at a quicker pace.
“Not long at all. Just when you got there.” Zoe was struggling with the weight of her friend. Her sentences came out short and clipped.
“So where do we need to go? The clinic?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that the only option for us?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s just hope it’s not too far.”
“Let’s.”
We kept on down the darkened streets of the main yard, with Madison casting anxious glances back every few minutes. “Do you need help carrying her?” she asked after a few blocks.
“I’m fine,” I said, “though Zoe might.”
“I can do it,” Zoe put in determinedly.
Madison nodded and kept going, arms crossed in front of her.
By the time we reached the path leading to the clinic, to my infinite relief, Liz started to stir. Her eyes opened, but it took her a while to comprehend her surroundings.
“What… what’s going on?” she asked weakly.
“We’re taking you to a doctor,” I said.
Her eyes popped open, and her mouth worked without emitting any sound. She looked… frightened. Was it because she was afraid she would get blamed for drinking underage? That could be the case, except that her fear looked completely disproportionate to whatever consequence that might bring about. And her speech wasn’t slurred, as I would expect of someone who had had too much to drink. It was just weak. No, there was definitely something more going on. The other girls were hiding what really happened in that room.
Liz faded back into unconsciousness. I felt her forehead again, and was glad to discover it much closer to normal temperature. I was sure that a fever was not a usual sign of alcohol poisoning.
“Zoe,” I asked after collecting my thoughts, “what else happened in that room? I know something did. I saw the light.”
“What?” Zoe grunted. “Nothing.”
“Come on,” I coaxed. “That can’t be true. Alcohol couldn’t have this effect on her.”
“Everyone reacts differently,” Zoe said defensively. She wouldn’t say any more.
Liz woke up a few more times on the way, each time staring as if seeing her surroundings for the first time. She didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure whether this was a good thing or a bad thing. Madison stayed in front, continuing to cast worried frowns back at us.
It didn’t take long before carrying Liz started to take a physical toll on me. Every step forward became harder than the last. If I was tiring, Zoe must be absolutely exhausted, but she just gritted her teeth and kept going with a steely resolve.
About halfway from the main yard to the clinic, Liz stirred again. This time though, when her eyes popped open, she gasped, and started mumbling completely incoherent things. The words weren’t slurred. Rather, they sounded as if they were in another language. I cast a worried look at Zoe.
“Maybe we should put her down.”
“Almost there.”
“But—”
“We’re almost there.”
At that moment, Liz turned her head to look right at me. Recognition dawned in her eyes.
“Tracy…?” she said weakly. “Where am I? What’s going on…?”
“We’re taking you to the clinic. Zoe’s here, and Madison.”
“…Zoe?” she asked slowly, as if not understanding the name. “…Madison?” Then, looking to the other side, saw her petite friend. “Oh, Zoe,” she said, emphasizing the name as if I said it wrong. “What are you doing here?”
“Carrying you to the clinic,” Zoe grunted, but I could hear in her voice that she was happy to see her friend awake.
“…carrying? But I can walk,” Liz said, looking down at her feet. After a few seconds, she started taking small steps. Soon she was matching us. We still supported her by the shoulders, but at least now she could carry her own weight. A weak but triumphant smile appeared on her face. And then she groaned.
“Why does my head hurt so much?” she asked unhappily.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” I replied at the same time as Zoe said, “You had too much to drink.”
Liz slowly looked at each of us in turn, then shook her head. “No, no, no…” she started to repeat over and over.
“What ‘no’?” I asked.
“…no, no, no,” she kept saying, ignoring my question. I looked at Zoe for help, but she looked just as lost as I was.
We continued leading Liz toward the clinic. Soon, her words became whispers, and then trailed off completely. Madison came back as soon as she realized Liz had awakened. She stopped short of saying anything to her. Instead, she checked her friend, nodded to herself, and then returned to her spot ahead of us.
Soon, the evergreens of Traven Island’s forest became visible to one side. I knew the clinic wasn’t much farther. When the small building’s lights came up in the distance, Madison broke into a quick trot and sped away from us. By the time we were leading Liz up the hill to the building, Madison had returned with a pair of nurses, who took Liz from us and carried her the rest of the way.
Inside the clinic, I recognized that same cheerful receptionist from my own time here. She looked tired, now, and had dark bags under her eyes. I wasn’t even sure she recognized me as she ushered Zoe, Madison, and me into a waiting area. Shortly thereafter, a nurse came to talk to us, asking what h
appened. Zoe answered truthfully, sticking to the story of alcohol poisoning. The nurse nodded before reassuring us that Liz was in good hands. I looked anxiously from Madison to Zoe, but knew that we had done as much as we could.
After a few minutes, Madison closed her eyes, and, taking her cue, I rested my head against the wall and let sleep wash over me. Before dozing off, one final uneasy thought kept swirling through my head: When Liz looked at me after waking, she was fully cognizant, and not at all like someone under the effects of alcohol. I was determined to find out why.
The rays of the sun on my face woke me the next morning. I tried to roll over in bed, but ended up falling onto the floor. It took me a few seconds to remember where I was. I saw the chair I had tumbled off, and all of last night’s events came flooding back to me. The party, and meeting Rob. That strange light, and finding Liz unconscious. Carrying her here with Zoe and Madison.
I got up slowly. My neck was stiff, and my feet hurt. Zoe was passed out on another chair in the waiting room. Madison was nowhere to be seen.
I opened the door quietly and tip-toed out, so as not to wake Zoe. I wanted to go home, to my room on the third floor, and have time to collect my thoughts. But first, I needed to check on Liz.
I asked a passing nurse where my friend was. She directed me down the hall. I followed her directions, and soon recognized the bleak interior of this part of the building. This was where I had spent those three miserable days not so long ago. The door to Liz’s room was open, and she was propped up in bed.
Her eyes were open, although she looked lost. It took a few seconds for them to focus on me, but when they did, she smiled.