by Sean Platt
Two Guardsmen tended to Desmond while another pair grabbed Mary by the shoulders and hoisted her up.
“What do we do with her?” one of the men asked.
Desmond looked up, blood pouring from his injured eye, and screamed, “Take her to the chamber! And tell Glih we have a new host.”
* * * *
CHAPTER 4 — Boricio Wolfe
Boricio stared down at the kitchen table where Lisa was sprawled following his impromptu operation. Bloody cloth and snippets of thread lay discarded on the floor.
“Well, look at that,” Boricio said, admiring his handiwork. “It’s like I’m Dr. Archibald Moonlight Graham.”
“Who?” Lisa said. Then, “It’s a shame we can’t put those skills to use in a quilting bee or something.”
She sat up with a grimace.
“You might want to sit a spell and let it heal a bit before we set out. And by the way, I’ll have you know I can quilt like a motherfucker.”
“Really?” Lisa arched an eyebrow.
“Do I look like a fucking fag?”
Lisa shook her head.
“I’m sorry, I meant, do I look like a fucking homo?”
“Oh, soooo much better.”
“Just call me a kinder, gentler Boricio.”
Lisa snorted.
“What? I’m a changed man. You should’ve known me before shit hit the fan.”
Lisa’s smile faded. “Yeah, I’ve seen flashes. And if I’d met you back then, I would’ve put a bullet between your eyes.”
He looked down, a swell of guilt in his gut.
“Yeah, well, that me is dead.”
“Is it really?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, as you said before, Luca fixed you. But how do you fix someone so broken?”
“You saying you don’t believe I’ve changed?”
“No, I believe it. I can see it. I think the old Boricio would’ve kept running if I got wounded. Or maybe he would’ve taken me inside and finished me off himself.”
Boricio looked down again. If Lisa was trying to make him feel like shit for his past sins, she was doing a damned fine job. Hell, Mary hadn’t given him this much grief. What the hell was Lisa’s deal — he hadn’t seen many of her memories in the cross dreaming, so he wasn’t sure what baggage she was checking in with.
After an awkward silence, she said, “I’m sorry.”
“No, don’t be. I deserve it. Hell, I deserve whatever the hell I get, and more.”
“Maybe,” Lisa said. “But I’ve gotta treat you as the person you are now, not what you were.”
“You speak about this like you have experience.”
“My ex.”
“What about him?”
“Let’s just say he wasn’t a nice guy. Met him when we were both in the Marines.”
“Ah,” Boricio said. “And did you kick his ass?”
“No.” Lisa sighed. “The old me was a pussy. Well, at least where he was concerned. I could field strip any weapon in front of me. Could kill five unarmed men with my bare hands. But for some reason, I couldn’t stand up to myself when it came to him. I had some guy friends who offered to kick his ass, but I didn’t want to make trouble.”
“I’ve seen that a lot. Were you in love?”
“Fuck if I even know what love is. Thought I was. But hell, who knows?”
“So what happened with you two? You leave him?”
“I took a job offer with Black Mountain, left his ass behind. We weren’t ever married or anything.”
“And that’s it?”
“Well, then the world ended.”
“Ah … think he’s still alive?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me if he was running with the bandits. He was always out for himself, so he’d fit right in with ‘em. But I doubt it.”
“Well, if we run into him, I’m sure you won’t be so shy next time around.”
Lisa laughed then winced, holding a hand over her wound. “No, I won’t be so shy.”
“And if you need some help, well, the New Boricio would love to atone for some of Old Boricio’s sins.”
“By killing?”
“Hey, if you’re killing the right people, it ain’t a sin in my book.”
Lisa smiled.
Suddenly, Boricio had the distinct feeling that they were no longer alone in the house.
* * * *
CHAPTER 5 — Emily Roberts
Emily was with Jake Barrow, watching over Luca.
She couldn’t stop staring at the wobbly, wooden dividing walls and thinking about how flimsy the basement seemed, as if the room had been built as a hurried contest in one of her father’s old reality shows.
Life on The Island was nice by comparison. Their walls were all wood or brick, with straight lines and sturdy materials. The basement Emily was hiding in now had been divided into separate rooms using portable walls. Everything felt so awkwardly constructed that Emily could imagine them falling over, one after the other, if Jake coughed too hard, given his size.
The thought made Emily laugh, and she had to cover her mouth. The big guy was more awkward than the walls.
“What did I do?” Jake asked.
“Nothing.” Emily smiled, and he looked away.
She wondered if he was always this uncomfortable, or self-conscious, or whatever it was. Maybe it was only because he’d probably been told to watch her and didn’t really know how to act around a little girl — not that he was all that much older than she.
Emily also wondered if Boricio had told him about her little teleportation event. And if he had, then how many of the others knew, too?
For some reason, it hurt her to think about.
Emily didn’t want anyone to know. It was embarrassing. And beyond that, she barely felt like herself. Ever since the event, she’d felt somehow … less than who she’d been. Dizzy. Lost.
At first, Emily figured she’d teleported them away. But as time passed, she wondered if Luca had somehow done it even though he was unconscious. Yet that didn’t feel right. Something inside her insisted that she’d somehow done it.
But how?
Was this a power she’d always had? Something that only manifested itself in a moment of stress? Or had Luca somehow changed her when they were in each other’s head?
It was all so confusing, and not the sort of puzzle Emily could easily solve. She loved working out problems, just like her dad. But you needed to see the pieces before you could solve the puzzle, and Emily had never felt more blind. Nor did she think the answers were that evident, even if she knew where to look. Like much of life’s great mysteries, you could spend an eternity wondering and still not know for certain.
If Luca had done something while inside her head, why did he do it? And what else had he done? Did he lay some alien seed inside her, waiting for the right moment to hijack her like the aliens on The Island and ship?
To make matters worse, she was stuck in a room with Jake, whose thoughts were practically shouting themselves at her.
He was scared, uncomfortable around her, and clueless around girls in general.
Does she think I’m big and fat?
She probably thinks I’m dumb.
I need to say something to make her not hate me so much.
But what? Everything I think of sounds stupid. What am I gonna say, “Hey, how about us all nearly getting killed?”
Why didn’t Boricio take me with him? Leave someone else to watch over her and Luca?
Emily wanted to say something to put him at ease, if only so his pain didn’t spread into her mind. But she didn’t want to encourage him to stay.
Emily wondered if she could push a thought into his head without him noticing. Get him to leave the room so she could be alone with Luca.
She was pulled from her thoughts by a knock on the basement door and then heard Jazz shout, “Hello!” as if they were long-lost best friends.
Jake looked as relieved for the interrup
tion as Emily felt. “Come on,” he said, ushering her out of the room, leaving Luca alone, and into the living room of the basement.
As everyone hugged one another, Emily sank into a couch against the wall, feeling as awkward as Jake had been feeling a few minutes ago. She recognized the people from Luca’s memories, but she didn’t know their names.
A sad-looking man held the hand of a boy who looked like his tiny twin. A pretty redhead stood beside them with a girl who was surely her daughter clutching her hand. Behind her stood another woman who Emily thought seemed both sad and mean. For no reason she could identify, Emily decided that she didn’t like that woman at all.
The children laughed as Jake scooped them into his big arms and swung them around, his awkwardness gone.
And suddenly, Emily felt an odd warmth, like she, too, was happy to see these people. Before she even realized it, Emily was suddenly standing, waiting for them to notice her. Or for Jazz or Jake to introduce her.
Emily wanted to run up and hug them. Wanted to play with the children.
Wanted to be included.
Emily wondered if these feelings were also somehow Luca’s doing, like he’d imprinted these people onto her like animals sometimes did with people. Some sort of forced bonding among everyone Luca’s Light had touched in some way.
She stared harder at the group, waiting for them to notice her, feeling like she didn’t belong, and that she should stay on the fringes. Maybe even go back to Luca’s room.
Emily’s head started to hurt, and she noticed the room’s colors getting brighter. She didn’t always see auras around people. Usually, she had to focus, unless they were being very emotional. But as she watched the group, her sensitivity, along with the headache it was bringing, intensified.
Colors swirled around them, darker shades of red, purple, and gray, signs that something awful had happened. But of course, Emily figured, something awful had happened to most people living in The Wastelands.
She wanted to pry, to peer inside their minds to see what sorts of things they’d been through. Maybe she could find some way to relate to them better, whenever they finally noticed her.
But peeking into their minds would be wrong, so she shouldn’t. Couldn’t.
The sad man came close enough for Emily to hear him. He looked at Jevonne, “Are Boricio and Ed still out looking for Mary?”
“Last I heard. How’d ya know?”
“I radioed them earlier.”
As the group caught up with each other’s recent events, Emily sat back on the couch, focus elusive. Her head was swimming, stomach churning. She felt sick, and needed to leave. She decided to creep back toward Luca’s room, hoping nobody would notice her.
But Jake grabbed her hand, raised it, and said, “Hey, everyone, this is Emily, the girl from the ship.”
“Really?” The boy’s face filled with wonder.
He left the sad man and came up to Emily. The little girl followed. “What’s the ship like?” he asked. His aura was confusing — bright blue mixed with swirling darkness. Same as the girl’s, indicating both happiness and either fear or grief.
Emily shrugged, not knowing what to say.
The little girl looked at Emily with big eyes. “You’ll tell us, won’t you?”
A bead of sweat dripped from her temple. Emily raised a hand to wick it away, wrestling her growing discomfort.
Something’s wrong. I can feel it.
“I don’t know … ” she said, wanting to say nothing, desperate for Luca’s room.
The children looked at her with hopeful eyes, wanting to hear her story, their hope a glaring contrast to the feelings she somehow felt behind their eyes — the feeling that the children had crossed through the other side of something awful and were looking to her stories as candy to numb their pain.
She started telling them about the ship, barely able to focus on her words, but somehow getting through.
“ … It’s big,” Emily finally finished, her head feeling like someone was plunging an ice pick into it.
“Big?” the boy repeated. “How big? Is it shiny inside? How fast can it go?”
The little girl kept looking from the boy to Emily.
“It feels bigger than The Island, even though it’s not.” Emily whispered because anything else would have seemed too loud. “There are a lot of really long hallways that turn in circles. It’s easy to get lost.”
Emily couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. A tingle she couldn’t explain, and had never felt before, crackled all over her body. Dad would probably say it was her gut talking. But what was it saying, and what could she do to make sure that she listened?
The girl’s mom approached her, smiling sweetly. She held out her hand, and Emily took it.
“I’m Teagan,” she said, shaking Emily’s hand.
She looked behind Teagan at the boy’s father then the children, looking at each in turn while the woman told her their names.
“That’s Brent, Ben, and Becca. Brent is Ben’s dad, and I’m Becca’s mom.” She glanced at the woman that Emily didn’t like, though she still didn’t know why. “That’s Marina.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Emily said.
Still smiling, Teagan said, “It’s nice to meet you, too.”
Emily didn’t know what else to say, so she let the part of her mind that was listening speak instead. “Why are you scared?”
Teagan blinked, seemed to think, then said, “Well, we were all scared, we all were. But I feel better now that we’re here.”
There was so much that the woman wasn’t saying.
Emily asked, “Is that because you came from a bad place?”
“Yes,” Teagan nodded, her face falling from pretty to almost ugly. “We came from someplace terrible.”
“Let’s talk about something else,” Jazz said, interrupting the awkwardness. “Does anyone want to sit down?”
Everybody stayed standing.
The man and his children were looking at Emily in a way that made her uncomfortable, maybe trying to figure out why she was asking such odd questions. Had she not heard them tell their stories to Jazz and Jake? Truth was, Emily could barely pay attention. But she’d heard enough to know they weren’t telling the whole truth — of the horrible things Emily sensed.
Emily felt them all looking at her. She smiled.
She sensed the woman — Marina — at the room’s edge. Emily didn’t know if she was imagining it, but she felt the woman’s eyes on her, maybe wanting something, though she had no idea what that might be. Her aura was gray as well. But unlike the others, it was only gray, without a lighter emotion inside her.
There was something burning in the woman shared by no one in the room. Yes, they were all scared, but this woman was feeling something deeper, an emotion Emily couldn’t quite place. It was like the woman was having trouble with her thoughts or her feelings, and that made her mad at everyone. Maybe, Emily thought, she’d been forced to do something she didn’t want to do.
As Emily stood there listening to the kids, and then to Jake and the kids, she felt two things. First, her dizziness and headache began to subside, as if the kids’ happiness chased her pain away. But she also felt Marina’s eyes the entire time.
Why is she staring at me?
Emily tried to look up a few times, to prove that Marina wasn’t looking. Each time she dared to do so, the woman was just staring blankly at the room in general, not specifically at Emily.
Like a ghost.
The more she thought about Marina watching her, the more Emily’s headache begged its return.
I think it’s her making me sick. She’s so twisted up inside, I’m feeling it.
She had to leave the room. Hell, she had to get out of the basement. The woman’s thoughts were contagious.
But then, as if Marina were reading Emily’s mind, she told Jazz, “I need some air.”
“You should go to the roof,” Jazz said. “That’s the best place to
think, and breathe. I could use some air myself. I’d be happy to go with you if you’d like.”
“No.” Marina shook her head. “I need some time to myself.”
She needs to get rid of the thing inside that’s making her mad.
Marina left through a secret door leading from the basement to the house. Once the door closed behind her, Jazz said, “Man, what’s wrong with her?”
“You have no idea.” Brent sighed. “She seems cold, but believe me, Marina’s been through hell.”
Jazz said, “Sounds like you’ve all been through hell, but at least you didn’t forget how to smile.”
“Marina had it the worst,” Teagan said. “She saved us twice. Once before we were taken prisoner, and another time after. We’d be dead if it wasn’t for her. And it couldn’t have been easy to do what she did. It’s no wonder she’s shaken. I’m sure she’ll be fine, we just need to give her some time. Like she said, she needs some air.”
With Marina gone, Emily felt suddenly better, no longer dizzy or sick to her stomach. She considered how odd that she’d feel so many of Marina’s feelings. While she’d always been sensitive to people’s emotions, and oftentimes influenced by them, she’d never felt it so strongly. Whatever hell Marina had been through must’ve been even more traumatic than anyone was saying. Maybe they’d share later, after the kids were asleep.
“Where’s Luca?” Ben craned his neck toward the room where Luca was sleeping. Emily wondered what he’d looked like the last time the boy had seen him, and if he’d be shocked when he saw Luca again.
Jazz said, “He’s sleeping.”
“Can we see him?” Becca asked.
“Maybe later.” Teagan tousled her daughter’s hair. “But right now I don’t think we should disturb him.”
Ben turned to Emily, dragging Becca behind him.
Almost demanding, he said, “Tell us about the spaceship!”
Becca giggled. “Yeah, tell us about the spaceship!”
The children’s sweet innocence reminded Emily of something she’d lost long ago and hoped to someday recapture.
She turned around, sat on the old sofa, and gestured for the children to join her. As they sat on either side of Emily, she saw their auras turn brighter blue, dotted with hues of blushing pink.