by Martin, Indi
“Fire came out that night, and came to stand in front of the bonfire. Most of us were hosed, just gone. Staring into the flames. I can't remember exactly what he looked like, or exactly what he said. It all blurs together, but I remember being so afraid of him, but in awe of him, like I loved him. It looked like the flames were coming out of him, instead of the bonfire behind him. He looked inhuman. Like a fire god.
“All I remember him saying was that Johnny was gone. I don't remember anything else he said that night. Just that Johnny was gone.
“The rest came later, bit by bit. He let little things slip out, intentionally, I'm sure. Every little bit would set all us workers abuzz, like gossiping old ladies. We were almost excited; all of us wanted to know what happened in there. We missed Johnny, sure, but we'd had a whole year of no excitement whatsoever, and here was an honest-to-god mystery at our hands. We almost thanked Fire for the diversion. Awful, I know. Bit by bit, we learned that there was something else in that room, something Fire kept us safe from, something Johnny wasn't strong enough to handle. It was that thing that got Johnny, not Fire. Fire was good, our protector. Johnny was weak. That thing, that thing was good and bad. Mostly bad, we gathered.
“One day he said he had to feed the wall. That's what he said, the wall, I do remember that. Only me and this other boy, Yankee, were in earshot. We watched while he carried one of our chickens in and shut the door behind him. He had a big, shiny knife. We heard the chicken scream, and then nothing.
“Would you believe that all I thought was how lucky Yankee and I were, to know this, and how long we could hold it over everyone else's heads before we told them? This is how good he was. He understood us. He understood we were just kids, really. Never grew up. Childish and shallow.
“And information was power.
“Tidbits came faster after that. Somebody overheard that Fire prayed in there. That we all would know, eventually. That the chicken was sacrificed because our crops had almost been ruined by cicadas – and that explained why all the cicadas died the next day. That Johnny's sacrifice brought the glut of cheap drugs that followed. That Fire was not only our leader, he was a Priest. A High Priest. Of something.
“That we were all chosen by something. The same something.
“This took months. I wonder sometimes, amazed at Fire's patience. It was a master stroke, his plan. It was amazing. We had a few new recruits, but mostly that had dried up cuz we stopped seeding flyers in the towns. We numbered just under fifty after our defections, still. And we were all loyal. He would deliver our drugs, he would order our work assignments, he would listen when we had problems and give advice. He was like our father, even though he was only in his late twenties.
“When Yankee told me he was running away, Lill and I thought he was crazy. It never occurred to us that it might be dangerous, for him and for us. True to his word, he said goodbye one sunny day, and that night he snuck right out of the cottage and ran through the fields.
“The dogs' barking alerted Fire, and the guards.
“Guards? Yeah, we didn't know about them either. Apparently some of the stronger, faster young men had been admitted to some inner circle. They kept watch, invisible to us, within our own circles. You never knew who was in it. It was top secret, an honor.
“Yankee was dragged back in by the guards, who wore black clothing and masks. We had no idea they even existed, or where the uniforms came from. But there he was, screaming, poor Yank. He was bleeding, too, blood just poured from a rip in his side and gashes in his leg. I'll never forget how black it looked in the moonlight. Everything looked black and white, and that blood looked jet black. Too black. The dogs looked crazy, but after that one had bit him, all the rest stayed back. Like they were just watching, smiling. Looked like they were grinning with all those sharp teeth in the moonlight.
“Fire came out yelling at the guards to take him to the room. He called all of us to follow. He said it was time that we understood.
“Fifty people was a bit of a crush in that room, but I had seriously underestimated its size; it was very large. We were all herded in by the guards and the barking dogs, no longer the sweet daytime pups we played with and fed every day. They were different at night, different on leashes. They were killers, grinning those grins. We all pressed in, but instinctively, we avoided the wall at the north end. It smelled terrible. It gleamed in the firelight. Strange symbols were drawn all over it, and it was a terrible rust color that made me want to gag. I can't even see that color today without getting sick. We all knew blood when we saw it, dried blood, without being told what it was.
“You would too. I promise. Your body knows it, even if your mind does not.
“There were several skulls at the base of the horrible wall. They weren't bleach-white skulls, not like you see in the movies or at Halloween. These still had bits sticking to them, even though they'd obviously been peeled and cleaned. There were brownish places where the muscle still stuck to the bone. Looking at them, I knew one was Johnny. I knew it with a coldness that went to my own bones. I didn't know who the other three were. Maybe those first escapees. I never found out for sure.
“Soon there would be a fifth, and it would be Yankee.
“The guy was in shock, staring at all of this, and I guess we all were too. We were hushed, still. Deathly silent. Only the sound of Fire pacing echoing through the room. When he spoke, it was like his voice pierced us all.
“He told us that the time had come for us to know who we were. That we weren't chosen at random, we were special. We were chosen. And he didn't choose us, no way, he wasn't even really all that important.
“It was the black angel in the wall. The Unspeakable. 'He chose you. I didn't,' he said, 'I don't even understand why some of you have been chosen, but it isn't my decision. I don't question. I am but a servant. We are all servants.' We didn't know what to say. His voice – you just had to hear it. You had to listen. It was like silk. It wove its own tapestry. It pulled you in.
“I can't say that everyone believed him, but Lillian and I did, for a while.
“I don't want to tell you what we did to Yankee, but you need to know that we all did it. We didn't just watch while Fire did it. We did it. The wall had to be painted with blood. The black angel had to be appeased. We were high, were crazy stoked out, had been blown for weeks. It makes no sense today, but it all just seemed to click that night. It didn't even matter that he was my friend. We tore him limb from limb. We were like animals. Maybe we were animals. I don't think we counted as human that night. We even scared the dogs.
“At the end of it, we were as covered in gore as the Woodstockies were covered in mud. We'd all changed somehow. It was about something else. Fire was the one we turned to, trusted in, who would make it all better. He was the only one who could speak to the thing in the wall, which was fine by us. We didn't want to.
“Our innocent little commune had completed its horrible mutation into a cult. We were the cult of Fire, and he was the mouthpiece of the Unspeakable. We all actually believed we were important. Newcomers couldn't be tolerated. A few new recruits came, but Fire ordered them unsuitable, said they were drawn as sacrifices. No one questioned him.
“A few people tried to escape after that, even after they saw what happened to Yank. No one succeeded. Fire said they ran because they had betrayed the angel in their hearts, betrayed their brothers and sisters. Their blood painted the wall, and their skulls lined the base. No one questioned Fire. No one dared to.
“One day, a few cops came out. We don't know how they found the place, we weren't on any maps – did I already say that? Fire told us to hide under the angel's wings, huddled in that awful room. I don't know what happened, but when we came out, they were gone. We never saw their skulls, and if they died, there should have been a massive manhunt, but there wasn't. I don't think they died. I don't know what happened to them.
“A few of the women had given birth to beautiful babies, and a few not-so-beautiful ones, durin
g our years there, and some couples or women had brought children when they first came to the commune. Fire made it clear that he would educate the children. The oldest of the kids was about twelve, and he adored Fire. He was in charge of the kids. That was Nightfall. His mom had named him Moonbeam, but he hated that name, and changed it with Fire's permission at his own sealing ceremony.
“What? Oh, sorry. We all went through it, we adults. One at a time. One of the scariest things I ever did. We had to walk into that room, with only Fire and a guard or two – later Nightfall was there too. The young leader. He gave us something, I don't know what, it made us crazy. More than acid. Maybe bad acid, I really have no idea. We all saw things, we all had to do things. I murdered your mother, in this vision. I couldn't sleep for weeks. I still dream about it. I cleaved her in two with an ax, while she screamed and begged and cried. It was awful. And Fire just watched, it was like he could see into my mind, see my vision with me. He pronounced me sealed to the dark angel. I passed whatever horrible test it was, and stumbled out into the night.
“Not everyone was so lucky. Some people didn't pass. They never left that room.
“The children, though, their sealing ceremony was different. I was only ever present at one.
“Your mother got pregnant. By that time, we were both running scared, we both wanted to get out, but not quite enough to risk life and limb. We were too scared to stay, too scared to go. Inactivity won, and we stayed put. But we started to sober up. We knew enough, without even talking about it, that we needed to start seeing things through real eyes if we were ever going to escape.
“She birthed a beautiful baby boy, with none of the defects some of the others had. Any kid with too many defects was killed, some were stillborn anyway. This one was healthy. We named him Sunbear.
“I know it was a stupid name, that's not the point. We all had stupid names.
“Things went fine for a while, we forgot about escaping. We were lost in the beauty of the child's eyes. Parents are always like that, I think. A new life makes even the worst thing better. We might have stayed forever.
“But Sun turned one, and then, sure enough, turned two. Two year old kids are a lot smarter than you think they are. They can learn stuff. They're learning all the time. When a child turned two years old, it was time for his sealing ceremony. It was horrible. Here was this innocent little kid, this beautiful baby boy, just starting to toddle around with growing confidence. To see him in that awful room... Nightfall was always present by that time, and he scared everybody but Fire, who never seemed scared of anything. Nightfall took care of the children's ceremonies.
“He looked over the child, checking that he was built usefully, that none of his defects (if he had any) would interfere with work. He checked for a long time in his eyes. Sun never looked away, he was a good boy. Strong. Then, Nightfall gave him a tiny chick. I remember your mother crying silently beside me, watching that lovely little ball of feathers. She always loved animals. She hated to see them come to harm.
“Sun just held it for a few moments, petted it with clumsy hands, then squeezed it to himself. Squeezed it so hard it pecked him. To say stop. Sun was surprised, he dropped the chick. The little bird was confused by the drop and just lay there for a second before it struggled to get up. Sun stepped on it, and we heard a tiny crunch. Then he fell to his hands and knees and played with the feathers. The ex-chick.
“The others were happy with that and pronounced him sealed to the Unspeakable. It had been a sacrifice to the wall, a tiny one. I never saw any other child's ceremony, but I can tell you there were a few small skulls in the pile. I can guess why they were there. They didn't kill the animal. Or they cried. Or Fire just wanted to punish the parents. I can guess, but I'll never know.
“That was the day I knew we had to leave. Lillian didn't want to, because my plan didn't account for taking Sunbear with us. That sounds horrible, I know it does. It has haunted me every day of my life. But he would cry, I promise. He was sealed now. He was changed. I don't know how to explain it. We couldn't take him with us.
“So she didn't want to leave him.
“We stayed for almost another year. We saw Sun less and less; he went to school with the kids, even that young. His family was the other kids, and black-eyed Fire was his father. We were only able to see him for maybe an hour a day, and he didn't seem to want to be there. This little three year old. Our beautiful boy. He scared us, not because he was scary – he wasn't. He scared us because of how powerless we felt. This wasn't what any of us had signed up for.
“Lill got pregnant again. She knew, this time, much earlier. She knew from the sickness her body forced on her. She knew from her loss of balance.
“She didn't want to lose another baby to the clan. Lill told me she was ready to go.
“Remember, no one had successfully escaped for over two years now. They were caught, tortured, and sacrificed, very unpleasantly. What we were doing was crazy, but with every day that passed, staying seemed even crazier. We planned for a long time, watching some nights to check the beats of the guards. They were easy, they were tired and rarely alert. The dogs were another problem entirely. They were always alert, and they were far faster than a stringy twenty-something and his pregnant wife. It was several miles to the highway in one direction, which is where everyone ran – through the fields, try to get to the highway, flag down a car. We decided to go the other way, into the forest. If we could find the river, we could follow it out. If we couldn't – well, it wouldn't be as bad as getting caught. At least we'd be free for a little while.
“I hated my name at that point. It just mocked my captivity. But I told Sus to keep calling me Freedom, and wouldn't let her use her real name either. I knew that we didn't want anyone knowing our real names. Not even our friends. Nobody.
“We decided we couldn't go back home. No one knew our real names here, so we could resume those identities. But we'd talked about our hometowns, a bit about where we were from. They would find us eventually. They might find us anyway, masquerading under our real names, so we decided to keep moving if we got away.
“Yeah, that's why. Sorry about that. I know it was rough not having roots for so many years.
“Anyway, we got lucky. Fire called a meeting one night, and only left one guard out, and he was just outside the door. He had full view of the fields. He had no view of the forest. The fields were upwind, the dogs would have smelled us if we'd run that way. But we weren't going that way. Even the wind was in our favor. With any more luck, we figured, they might not discover we were gone for hours.
“We snuck out of our cottage, which was really just a hovel. You don't want to know how grungy those places really were, and most of us didn't either. That was just another reason to stay out of the realm of reality, whatever it took. On psilocybin or LSD we could be living in mansions, if it took the right turn. Sober, it was cockroach and rat-infested, fleas and bedbugs were in the ratty sheets, and nothing was sealed off against the elements. We made it safely to the backside of the factory, and heard screaming inside. I don't know who that was, never found out, didn't stick around. We disappeared into the forest and ran as fast as we could. We kept running.
“We had almost nothing, but we'd grown used to scavenging for food. We found some grubs and caught a fat lizard. We knew how to start a fire, but didn't dare – what if they were already looking for us? The smoke would be a dead giveaway. So we ate them raw.
“Your mother never complained, never fussed. I loved her just as much as I did when I first laid eyes on her. She is the strongest women I know....
“...was. She was the...
“We ran as long as we could that night, hiking through the forest. It was sparse, there wasn't a lot of underbrush, but this meant it would be easygoing for our pursuers too, so we didn't let up. We found the river and crossed it, it was blistering cold, but we hoped the water might make the dogs lose our scent. We didn't rest that night, or the next day. We were about to lie down,
exhausted, when next the sun fell, when Lill sat straight up again.
“She told me to shush and listen. I didn't hear anything at first, but eventually the sound of a car hit my ears. It was the sound of rushing water. It was the most beautiful thing I had heard in all my life.
“We stood back up and walked toward the sound, and found a tiny dirt road leading out of the forest, an actual road, and a car's taillights in the distance. The state park wasn't much built up this far yet, but we knew another car would have to come along eventually. We would be in the real world again. And we would keep running.
“So we became the first members of the cult to truly escape. The ones before that, if they made it, well, they escaped the commune. We escaped the cult.
“I don't know what happened to Sunbear. I wish I did. I hope he's dead. I hope he died young.
“We ran and kept running. We got little odd jobs as we went. Harry was born, and she was beautiful and healthy and smart. And a handful! But we were happy, and more determined than ever not to let them find us. It sounds silly, that we would expect that a backwoods, largely uneducated cult like that could find us, would even pursue us. It never crossed our mind that they wouldn't. We knew with certainty that one day they would find us, and kill us. We never doubted it.
“I got a letter a few months ago, Jake. It had a symbol of the wall, of that black angel, in it, one of the symbols we left behind. The letter was mostly gibberish, but part of it said that we were sealed, and couldn't escape. That we had betrayed the clan. It ended with, 'I'm coming.' That's all. I gave it to your mom, and she smiled at me and kissed me. She had the sweetest kisses. I told her we had to move. She said that was over now, it was too late. That if we stayed, they wouldn't go after you kids, couldn't find you. Had no interest in you. You guys weren't sealed. She said we owed it to you all to arrange our wills and our funerals, our burials. Get it all ready. So you could move on with your lives after we were gone.