“You’re damn right that sumbitch gonna fail!” Pastor Mike repeated to the laughter of everyone. Marcus couldn’t take any more. He quickly stood up again and left through the door at the back. Re-entering the foyer he stopped in his tracks. Where was the old man? There wasn’t even a chair. The Sufferer quickly made for the main door and walked out into the night air.
“Man alive what the hell was that all about?!” he said aloud.
“Two meals in your cell, one in the hall,” Sooth explained. “Always been like that. They never tell us which meal will be in the hall until we’re having it. They mix up the inmates so it’s never the same guys in the same hall.”
Manning and Greyfall sat beside one another on a long bench eating their breakfast. Sooth sat opposite them. In the single meals a day in the hall they hadn’t met anyone willing to strike up any kind of conversation. Some of the hundred or so inmates in the hall particular morning were quietly murmuring to one another but most stayed in silence. A large television screen on the wall had the news running all day every day.
“Why do they not take this time to communicate. To enjoy company?” Greyfall asked, looking around the room.
“Get the wrong guard having a bad day and they clobber you good for it,” Sooth answered. “But most days it’s ok as long as you keep it to a low murmur. Most of the guys just like to watch the news too I guess. Nothing on it is ever overly uplifting though so I try to ignore it.”
Greyfall and Manning continued eating. Both men seem to be in higher spirits.
“So what you boys do?” Sooth asked. “I mean, what can you do?”
“I can’t do jack shit but they think I can. Greyfall could hand each of these guards their asses if we could get these damn bands off our necks.”
“No chance of that happening guys. The second you go fiddling with them your brains are over all four walls and the ceiling.”
“It would have been nice of them to inform us of how this place works when we arrived,” Greyfall put in.
“Why would they? They couldn't care less if you explode the back of your head out the front of your face. One less Alternative Terrorist to worry about,” Sooth answered.
“How long have you been here Sooth?” Manning asked.
“Twenty-two damned years of nothing but news of the outside to stick it to me every day. The Red Sox finally won the world series huh?”
“And the Cubs,” Manning answered.
“Yeah. I’ll be darned.”
Marcus sat up lying back against the headboard of his bed, coffee in hand. He hadn’t slept. A million thoughts were going through his head at once and he could hardly process any of them.
“What was that feeling?” he thought over and over again. Last night he witnessed one of the most powerful forces he had ever experienced in his life and yet it was over something he didn’t believe in, although it was getting harder to convince himself of that.
“He talked about it like it was actually real. Not Sunday school, Santa Claus stuff but actually real. I always thought it was a waste of time. Ugh, forget about it. It will go away.”
Marcus got up and finished his coffee as he walked to the kitchen. His one bedroom apartment was left to him by his grandfather, so life wasn’t so difficult for Marcus. Bills were low as he kept the heat down and was barely ever in to use the electricity. He got by ok and on the odd occasion he couldn’t afford food, Manning was always good for it.
“Manning where are you?” he thought to himself. “Jessen, Greyfall, where are any of you? What’s up with Ronan? Where was Metalcore? He bounced in and out of his life with annoying unpredictability and seemed to be a shell of the man he was before. What is happening?!”
It was becoming too much to bare. Marcus grabbed his coat from the hanger in the hall and left the apartment for South City hospital. He needed something familiar.
Israel’s body really was banged up bad. Marcus sat in the cafeteria of the hospital with a bottle of water, sweating as he soaked up everything that was wrong with his Israel. He knew better than to ask to visit him. Israel was off the grid and anyone who came around asking about him would immediately be questioned by the police about him, about everything. All he felt he could do for now was take his pain.
Upstairs Israel had a small smile on his face.
“Hello Marcus,” he said aloud as he raised an arm. “Thanks for visiting.” Israel dropped his arm heavily onto his crotch.
Downstairs Marcus crossed his legs and grasped at his bottle of water.
“Israel you son of a bitch!” Marcus let go of the pain momentarily.
Upstairs Israel’s laughter turned to moans as his pain returned.
“Ok! Ok! Ok!” he half laughed half cried. The pain left him once again as Marcus went back to squeezing his water bottle.
It was a grim form of communication, but communication nonetheless. Both men smiled but Marcus’ moment of fun came to an abrupt end once he spotted Josiah Versette walking across the lobby of the hospital. It was a reminder of the previous nights sobering events. Josiah cast his eye over towards Marcus and back to where he was heading. Marcus wanted to follow him upstairs more than anything but he just sat there.
“Stockholm syndrome is really kicking in here man. I think I’m falling in love with you officer Versette,” Israel said sarcastically as Josiah pulled up a chair beside the bed and sat down.
“Obviously. I’m dreamy. You’re not my hostage though.”
“Who’s hostage am I?”
“You are under hospital arrest.”
“Can you tell me why?”
Josiah sighed. “No. It was classified.”
“Classified. Right. Believe me Josiah, I’m a hostage.”
“Why do you say that?” Josiah asked, genuinely intrigued.
“You’re the police man. You figure it out.”
Josiah knew Israel enough by now to know he wasn’t going to get more than that.
“Your lawyer gets a window with you today you’ll be glad to hear,” Josiah changed the subject.
Israel instantly turned sour and silent. Josiah stared at him. The comment obviously shook Israel but he didn’t care about that right now. He sighed.
“What do you know about me Israel?” he asked bluntly. Israel was taken back by the question.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“You know what I mean. What do you know about me?” he asked again, his eyes burning into Israel’s. Israel could feel the authority radiating from Josiah and felt almost powerless against it. There was an urge to tell some semblance of truth.
“Come on man make this easier on me,” Israel said. What he was really thinking was ‘Ask me anything and I’ll tell you the truth.’
“Fine. Who is downstairs?”
‘Uh oh. Not a chance,’ Israel thought. “I don’t know what you mean. You wouldn’t be doing a very good guard job if I could tell you who is downstairs.”
“Right. Why is it half the times I check in on you, you are in serious pain and discomfort and other days, like today, you seem fine.”
“Haven’t you ever been sick man? You get good days and bad days.” Israel knew how stupid he sounded.
“Yeah I’ve been sick. Haven’t been in many explosions myself though. I’ve never broken half the bones in my body before. I’m not a doctor but I’m pretty sure every day is a bad day after that happens. Who’s downstairs Israel?”
The repeat of the question almost caught Israel off guard.
“No one! I mean, how should I know? I don’t even have a window!”
“I know, it stinks in here. Why don’t you have a window Israel?”
“What?!’ Israel was beginning to get animated. Downstairs Marcus writhed that little bit more. ‘How the hell should I know?!”
Josiah stood up and towered over Israel, getting in close.
“Why are you under twenty-four hour guard in a windowless room Israel?!”
“Stop saying my name like that will yo
u?!” Israel was agitated now.
“So it is your name?”
Israel just looked at Josiah. Marcus was in agony.
“Who is downstairs?! Why aren’t you in any pain?!”
“I don’t know! I am in pain!”
“You’re just not?! Broken left femur right?”
“Yeah!”
“How and why are you not in utter agony?!” Josiah shouted.
“What?!” was all that left Israel’s mouth. He looked down. Without Israel noticing Josiah’s hand was on his thigh, squeezing hard.
“I...I didn’t…" Israel couldn’t finish his sentence. Marcus was downstairs grasping his leg. Josiah let go and took a few steps back. The two men just stared at each other.
“I’m gonna leave you to it. I’ll be outside.” Josiah finally said. He walked to the door and left the room. Israel lay on his bed, defeated.
“What just happened?” He thought to himself. “Marcus! Marcus just get out of here.”
Israel wasn’t alone for long. The door opened and in walked Frank.
“Hey champ. Dead yet?” he asked.
Israel could only stare at him.
“Dunno what you did to piss of that cop but I love it. The guys out there muttering to himself flicking through the pages of his little book like there’s no tomorrow.”
“What do you want?” Israel calmly asked.
Frank walked over to a table at the side of the room, set down his brief case and opened it, facing away from Israel who leaned over to his right to try and see what Frank was doing.
“Just a little check up with my favourite client is all.” Frank answered.
“I’m not your client.”
“We could say nephew if you want to put a label on it?”
“What the hell are you talking about man? Whatever you think you know about me is wrong.”
“No it isn’t,” Frank immaturely answered.
“So fill me in.”
“Nah.”
“Why not?!”
“Cause it annoys the living snot out of you Israel! Awesome times!” Frank turned around, gave the thumbs up and smiled. He had his hand behind his back as he walked over to the bed.
“Yunno something man, you gotta real punchable face,” Israel declared calmly.
“Maybe later. For now just enjoy your coma.”
“What coma?!”
“This one,” Frank answered as he took his hand out from around his back. Before Israel could react a syringe was in his stomach. Frank pushed down on the needle, injecting a pale green fluid into Israel’s body.
“What the hell?!” Israel exclaimed.
Downstairs Marcus jolted. He dropped his bottle of water to the floor and grabbed onto the table he was sitting at. Israel struggled in the bed but his pain was returning. He couldn’t muster the strength to reach for the needle, or swing at Frank. Marcus closed his eyes and fell out of his chair to the floor. Several people in the cafeteria rushed to his aid, trying to help him up. Israel slowly started to fade. He stopped trying to move and just looked up at Frank.
“You’ll be out for a few days. Maybe a few weeks. We don’t really know. It’s an experimental treatment. Something Vince has the boys working on. The doctors in this place won’t be able to figure out what’s wrong with you.”
“I’m... I won’t be... a Kennedy... experiment!” Israel slurred.
“You always were buddy. Well, you were meant to be. Maybe Manning will tell you all about it some day. If he’s alive.” Frank patted Israel on the shoulder. “Enjoy the violent illness that comes after you wake up. If you wake that is. It will probably be just awful.” Frank walked back over to his briefcase and placed the needle inside. Closing it up he turned back to Israel who had already lost consciousness.
Downstairs Marcus aggressively pulled himself back up into his chair and gasped for breath. He momentarily lost his vision and he spilled across the adjacent table as he attempted to make his way out of the hospital. His vision righted itself as he ran out of the building.
Two wet days passed by seemingly uneventfully in New Belfast. Nightfall, Ronan and Elaine laid waste to a rebellious stable of four wrestlers in NCW in a four on two handicap match. Upon winning, Nightfall sent Ronan back out up the ramp while he rigorously kissed Elaine in the middle of the ring as a bemused and slightly disturbed crowd watched.
Manning and Greyfall grew restless in their cell, getting to know one another further. They saw Sooth once over the two days in the dinner hall but didn’t get speaking to him.
Jessen vomited and cried endlessly, tears burning trails down his face.
Israel lay motionless in a coma. It took the nurses a day to realise he was badly out of it. His vitals were fine so they just thought he was sleeping. It wasn’t until an attempt at a sponge bath when they found out something was wrong.
Metalcore paid multiple visits to Elaine’s apartments but she was never in. Flying up the side of the building he could peer in through her windows but the lights were never on. There was no activity inside. He tried to meet her outside the NCW arena but he couldn’t see her. Or at least, he didn’t think he could. He felt like he had a memory of meeting her like it was a dream but he couldn’t quite remember, like that part of the day was erased from his memory. All he could do for now was relentlessly fly high above New Belfast in circles for some reason he didn’t quite understand. He would get tiny moments of clarity and question what he was doing only to see it fade away and keep flying aimlessly.
Marcus locked himself away in his apartment and didn’t come out again for two days. He lay on his bed and took the few ailments and pains of the people in his building. Tomorrow was Sunday. He had a big decision to make.
Chapter 17
Ronan’s eyes were bloodshot. Sweat had formed on his brow. Standing doing nothing sounds easy, but when put into practice Ronan found it a very difficult task indeed. Standing at the foot of Nightfall’s bed he watched as Elaine and her forced lover began to stir and wake. Ronan watched as Nightfall slipped out of bed, yawned and walked towards him. Slapping him gently on the face Nightfall laughed.
“Enjoy yourself?” he asked. Ronan just stared at Elaine. Nightfall looked back down at her and sighed. “Alright. Got a big night ahead of us. Best get an hour or two of sleep. Go to bed Ronan.”
Without a word Ronan left the room. Elaine was now sitting up in the bed looking at Nightfall who simply stared back at her with a smile on his face.
“Oh what the hell,” he said as he flicked his hand towards her. It was as if something switched itself on inside of Elaine’s brain. She immediately started crying.
“You’re a monster! You made him watch you mother fu-“ she screamed as she shot her hand out. A bolt of solid ice shot across the room, which Nightfall only just dodged as it exploded against the wall into an icy shower all over the floor.
“Woah! Ok! Ok!” Nightfall waved his hand again and Elaine calmed down. “No more free thought for you young lady.”
Elaine looked blankly around the room.
“Now get yourself ready. I will be your champion tonight and I need you looking your best.”
“What the hell am I doing here?” Marcus thought to himself as he sat in the very back row of the New Belfast Community Church again. Not only did he muster up the will to come, but he had come early enough to watch as most of the congregation slowly trickled in and filled up the hall. In the space of ten minutes three different people had approached him to introduce themselves, shaking his hand and welcoming him to the church. Marcus couldn’t help but smile as people introduced themselves.
While this was a good bit different from the Resistance meeting, the congregation were still upbeat and lively. There were no suits, no hats, no ties, no organ, no altars, no crucifixes. Just a plain hall filled with normal people.
“They really are just normal aren’t they?” Marcus thought to himself.
Pastor Mike led a much calmer service this time. He made several jokes
about himself on how he gets a bit carried away at the Resistance meetings and his doctor had told him he needs to calm down. He brought up stories about his family, his favourite sports team and Star Wars amongst other cultural references to help him illustrate his message that morning. Marcus hadn’t been paying the greatest amount of attention to the talk. He was more transfixed on the people, looking around the room constantly.
“Where is Josiah?” he thought to himself. “Do I even really want to see him? Oh man what am I doing here?!” He started to panic slightly. What was his intention if and when he found Josiah? It’s not like he was going to question him. What was this draw, this feeling that he had to be here?
Mercifully the talk came to an end as Marcus was beginning to sweat. Pastor Mike invited everyone to stay and take a free cup of coffee and some snacks. Some people stood up to join friends on the other side of the hall. Others got up to help with the refreshments. Music began playing through the speakers as people started to take their coffee and sit down to talk with each other. People were laughing, some were having serious conversations and others were sitting quietly with hands on one another praying. An older lady had three members of the congregation sitting around her with their hands on her shoulders. She was crying and they were praying. Marcus stared at this situation for several moments. He looked around the room and drank it all in. These people didn’t want to leave. They were some kind of community, a community different to any he had ever encountered before.
Marcus began to feel a physical discomfort in his stomach and suddenly a hand was on his shoulder. It was a young man in his mid twenties, wearing a short-sleeved black t -shirt revealing two arms covered in tattoos.
“Hey man! Am I right in saying this is your first time or am I terrible at my job and you’ve been here for years?” he asked and Marcus laughed. He felt bad for the guy as he could feel his stomach issues.
“Nah man you’re fine. It’s my first time. Well, first Sunday. I caught some of Wednesday night.”
“Cool! I didn’t make it out this week. What did you make of it? Sometimes it gets a little…"
The Hade War Page 16