by Cross, Amy
Right at the end, everything changed. Joseph and I somehow switched places, and his grip on my throat slipped. I collapsed onto the floor, and I watched as Joseph fell into the void. He was screaming, and the scream lingered until he was gone, and then I blinked and my heart seemed to explode and I opened my eyes and...
And that's how I ended up here.
“I gave you a shot of adrenaline,” Dad says, eyeing me with caution. “What happened, Elizabeth? It was as if you were going into some kind of trance, and you were getting so pale. I was worried, you seemed to be fading away right before my eyes, so I used the only thing to hand.” He pauses. “Elizabeth? You were muttering something to yourself, it was almost as if you were begging someone to help you.”
“Joseph,” I stammer.
“Joseph?”
“He's been able to reach into my mind since I arrived here at the facility,” I explain. “Don't ask how, it's a long story, but he's been talking to me, he even managed to take over my body for a few minutes the other day, and I think...”
I pause, thinking back to everything I witnessed through Joseph's eyes.
“His body has been destroyed,” I continue. “I think... I think he killed Maddy Crozier first, and then Thomas and his sister destroyed what was left of him. He tried to escape into my body, he was about to succeed when you woke me up. The last thing I saw was him falling away, so I think he might finally be gone forever.”
I wait, listening in case there's some sign that Joseph might still be in my head, but I swear somehow I can tell that he's not longer here. He fell into nothingness, and I don't think there's any way back from that.
“I'm not going to say that I entirely understand,” Dad says cautiously, “but I've seen enough to know that I can't dismiss anything, no matter how crazy it might sound. If you say that's what happened, then that's what happened.”
“It is,” I reply, starting to sit up. “There was no -”
Before I can finish, I suddenly find that my hands are chained to some kind of table. I hadn't even noticed that I'd been moved, but now I look around and see that I'm in a room that seems to contain a lot of medical equipment.
“What's this for?” I ask, pulling on the manacles that are holding the chains to my wrists. “Dad?”
“Elizabeth, I need you to stay calm.”
“Why have you chained me up?”
“That's not what I've done, I -”
“These are chains!” I point out, trying to contain my anger as I try again and again to get free. “Dad, you have to let me out of these things right now!”
“You'll be free soon enough.”
“Soon enough? What does that mean?”
“It means that I'm not going to let you ruin all of this,” he replies. “I told you I made a deal with Carver, and -”
“And I told you I'm not taking any deal!” I yell. “It's my decision, and I'm not doing it! You can't make me!”
“You'll thank me one day,” he says calmly. “While you were unconscious, I brought you through here. Partly that was so that I could give you the adrenaline, but it was also partly because you were going to have to come through anyway. This is the final staging area before you go on-board, and it's crucial to make sure that you're fit and healthy for the journey. I managed to check that, Elizabeth, and you've passed with flying colors.” He pauses. “It's almost time for you to go.”
“What are you talking about?” I shout, still trying to find some way to get out of these chains. “You can't just tell me you're shoving me into a rocket! That's not how things work!”
“You're going to thank me when you realize the importance of what you're doing,” he replies, taking a step back. “This is about the future, and it's about giving you a chance to live and -”
“I don't want to go!” I reply, interrupting him. “It's suicide, anyway! Do you seriously think that rocket is going to change anything? Where's it supposed to go? Mars? The moon?”
“Everything has been very carefully planned.”
“Then you go!” I snap. “If it's so great, and if it's such a brilliant idea, then by all means jump on-board, but you have to let me leave!” I wait for him to accept that I'm right, but he says nothing. “I just want to go back to the lighthouse,” I continue, with tears in my eyes. “I never wanted to leave that place. You kidnapped me, you took me away, and now you're still telling me what to do. All I want is to go back there and live in peace.”
“That wouldn't last very long, Elizabeth.”
“I don't care! I was happy there, apart from when the family-murdering psycho turned up. I didn't even mind being on my own, or having to eat seagull meat, or anything like that! I wish -”
“Elizabeth, please...”
“I wish you'd never come back!” I shout, even though I know I'm only trying to hurt him. “I wish you'd just stayed away instead of dragging me into this mess! Is that what you want to hear? I wish you'd never come to fetch me! I wish I'd never seen you again!”
I wait for him to reply, but he looks pale with shock, and after a moment he turns toward the door. There's a part of me that wants to apologize, to tell him that I didn't mean any of that, but I'm too angry to actually try to make him feel better.
“There are some other details I need to work out,” he says finally, his voice trembling slightly. “I'll be back through soon, Elizabeth. While you wait, just try to stay calm, okay?”
“You mean while I'm chained to this table?”
He hesitates.
“What would Mom say?” I ask. “If Mom walked in right now, how would she react?”
“Your mother was always a little softer on you and your brother.”
“You mean she never chained us up?”
“She could afford to be soft,” he replies, “because she knew that I was around to be firm. That was just how things worked. And, Elizabeth, I've arranged a little -”
“Mom would hate what you've become!”
“I've arranged a little surprise. Once you're on-board, the final demonstration and welcoming -”
“Mom would have you!” I shout angrily. “She'd hate what you've allowed yourself to become!”
He murmurs something under his breath, but I can't make out any of the words. Turning and heading out of the room, he seems perfectly willing to just leave me here. I start pulling on the chains again, even though they feel far too strong and I'm already certain I can't break free. I've been captured and kidnapped and chased so many times over the past year, but I always managed to get away until now. I guess there's some kind of grim irony about the fact that it was finally my own father who was able to keep me properly restrained.
“Dad!” I call out. “You can't just leave me here!”
But he can. And he has. No matter how hard I try to pull on the chains, I find that Dad has managed to lock me down securely. Even though I know there's going to be no way to break free, I keep trying for a few minutes, until finally I slump back against the table with tears in my eyes. I've encountered so many assholes over the past year, from Bob and Bill Patterson to Charles Bloom and Wendy Longford, but I managed to get away from every last one of them. Now, finally, it's my own father who's managed to properly capture me.
As I set to work once more trying to get free, I hear the humming sound getting louder deep down in the building. I don't know when Maxwell Carver's rocket is supposed to launch, but I'm pretty sure that it's going to be soon.
Chapter Twelve
Thomas
“Where the hell did he come from?” Martha hisses.
“Well, this is interesting,” Doncaster calls out to us. “I came to check that Ms. Crozier wasn't going to sneak up here, and instead I find two little rats scurrying about the place.”
“Now what?” Martha whispers.
“I'd offer the pair of you a ride,” Doncaster continues, “but I'm afraid the extra weight would throw off all our calculations. Not to mention the fact that we only have sufficient facilities to ke
ep two people alive on the journey. So I'm afraid that's completely out of the question.”
I peer around the edge of the hatch and see Doncaster still watching us, although he's lowered the gun.
“He can't just shoot indiscriminately,” Martha whispers. “That'd risk damaging his precious rocket. He didn't mind hitting the bridge, but there's no way he'll shoot at us while we're in here.” She leans out and looks at Doncaster. “He must be a fairly good shot, too, otherwise he wouldn't even have risked shooting at us just now. But spaceships are fragile, aren't they? Even the slightest bit of damage to the outside could cause this thing to go wrong.”
“Okay, that's great,” I reply, “but what do we do?”
“As long as we have our backs to the rocket, I don't think he'll take the chance of firing at us again, especially if we move fast. Once we're across the bridge, things are different, but at least we have a shot.” She holds the gun up. “Thomas, I need you to follow my lead for once, okay? Stay close behind me, and be ready to run in either direction.”
“What are you gonna do?” I ask.
“Fortune favors the bold,” she replies. “That's what they always say, right?” She pauses, as if she's still trying to run through the fragments of a plan she's trying to put together. “We can do this. We will do this. And once we've done it, Thomas, I am never going to stop reminding you of the fact that you owe me.”
I try to think of something to say, but suddenly Martha climbs out of the hatch, and I realize that I need to stick close to her, so I do the same. Once I'm on the bridge, I look over at Doncaster, and I feel relieved by the fact that he hasn't shot us yet. I guess that means Martha's assessment might be right, and that above all else he's determined to protect the rocket.
Suddenly, Martha aims the gun behind her, pointing it at the rocket's side while keeping her gaze firmly fixed on Doncaster.
“I think you can see where this is headed,” she calls out. “You shoot at us, I shoot at your precious spaceship. These things are pretty sensitive, right? Even the slightest damage could set you back months, probably longer seeing as how you've managed to get rid of all your little workers.”
She steps forward, and I follow, and still Edward Doncaster doesn't make any kind of move. I'd be happier if he started to panic, but so far he's just standing there calmly, which I have to admit is a little disconcerting.
“We don't actually have any plan to stop you,” Martha continues. “We're just here to collect a girl named Elizabeth Marter, and take her with us. After that, you can stroke your rocket for as long as you want. You can stick it anywhere, we don't give a damn. Just to make the point clear in case you missed it earlier... We only want Elizabeth.”
We wait, but Doncaster still says nothing.
“So you're gonna go fetch her,” Martha explains, “and if you're not back within ten minutes, then I'm gonna start blowing holes in the side of your prized possession. Doesn't that seem fair?”
“Are you sure it's a good idea to threaten him like that?” I whisper.
“I don't see that we've got much to lose!” she announces, clearly more for Doncaster's benefit than for mine. “There's a solution that leaves everyone happy, so why don't we all just agree to get along?”
Again, we wait.
Again, Doncaster doesn't react in any way.
“Don't you think he should have given in by now?” I ask Martha. “He doesn't look very impressed.”
“That's just his poker face,” she replies. “He's thinking, otherwise he'd be coming out with a load of smart one-liners and threats of his own. This way, we've got him right where we -”
“You've only got one arm,” Doncaster says suddenly.
“I only need one for firing this thing,” she replies.
“Yes,” he says, “I suppose that's true. And, just to be perfectly clear, should I assume that Madeleine Crozier is...”
His voice trails off.
“Dead,” Martha says firmly, “but not because of us. She got killed by a zombie.”
“A zombie? Here?”
“He's out of the picture too,” she adds. “I made sure of that.”
“Fascinating,” he replies. “One can make so many plans, but little slivers of chaos will always sneak into any situation, won't they? Little upsets that make the game worth playing. I'll miss Madeleine, but I suspected that things weren't really going her way over the past day or so.” He sighs. “I rather think she noticed the same thing.”
He hesitates, and then suddenly he steps out of view.
“Where did he go?” I ask.
“No idea,” Martha replies.
We wait for him to come back, but he seems to be gone.
“Is that his way of saying that we're supposed to keep going?” I ask. “Is that him saying that he agrees? I mean, he's not blocking us, and he's not shooting at us.”
“I don't think he's just given up quite so easily,” she replies, her voice filled with tension. She pauses, with the gun still aimed at the rocket. “Okay,” she continues finally, “here's what we going to do. We're going to cross the rest of the bridge and see what the deal is, but we're not going anywhere that means we can't still keep the gun trained on the rocket. Deal?”
“That doesn't seem to give us many options,” I point out.
“It gives us time to think, and that's what we need right now. We'll come up with the next part of the plan once we're over there, but for now, just stay close to me, okay?”
She starts making her way forward. The bridge shudders as I follow her, but we're more than halfway across now and I'm starting to think that maybe Doncaster really has decided to just let us take Elizabeth and be on our way. After all, why would he need to hang onto her, anyway?
“How's that plan coming along?” I ask as we get closer to the end of the bridge.
“It's more a series of plans,” she replies, “each with their own positives and negatives. And on top of that, I'm starting to think that -”
Before she can finish, the bridge shakes violently, enough to almost knock us both off our feet. The shaking stops soon enough, but the bridge seems to be leaning slightly to the right, and after a moment I look over my shoulder and see that the bridge's far end has become partially detached from the rocket.
“Martha,” I say cautiously, “I think maybe we oughta -”
Suddenly the far end falls away completely, losing its connection to the rocket. The entire bridge swings down beneath our feet, and it's only at the last second that I manage to reach out and grab the railing.
Still attached at one end to the main part of the building, the bridge's other end swings down and then the entire thing slams against the side of the chamber's wall, with enough force to almost shake me off and send me plummeting into the cavernous abyss below. I strengthen my grip, and then I look down and see that Martha has managed to grab hold of the very bottom of the bridge, while the gun is falling away. The bridge is hanging vertically now, and all I can see beyond Martha is the four or five hundred foot drop down into the bottom of the chamber.
“Hold on!” I yell, struggling to find a way to climb down and help her.
With only one arm, she's barely able to maintain her grip. She tries to swing her legs up, but she's not able to get them high enough.
“I'm coming to get you!” I shout.
“No!” she replies.
Ignoring her, I start carefully climbing down the bridge, although my feet almost slip a couple of times. Now that it's only hanging from one end, I'm pretty sure this entire thing is going to fall at any moment, so I'm going to have to be quick.
“Thomas, I said no!” Martha shouts. “It's not going to hold long enough for you to get all the way down here and back up!”
“It -”
The bridge suddenly jerks slightly, and when I look up I realize that the section connecting it to the opening in the wall is starting to come loose.
“I'm coming down!” I tell Martha, and I start climbing toward
her again.
“There's no time!” she hisses, still holding onto the bottom of the bridge. “Thomas... we're not both gonna make it!”
Her hand is already starting to slip.
Ignoring her attempts to stop me, I focus on trying to find a way down to her. A moment later, the bridge creaks slightly, and I can tell that soon it'll break loose entirely and plummet down into the chamber. I adjust my grip, and then I carefully inch down a little further.
“I'm not going to let you do this,” Martha says. “Thomas, climb up!”
“No!” I reply, looking down and seeing that she's hanging by just a couple of fingers. “I'm not going to let anything happen to you!”
“I'm sorry, Thomas.”
I reach down to grab another section of the railing.
“I'm so sorry,” she gasps. “I'm -”
Suddenly her fingers slip, and I watch in horror as she falls away from the bridge. I instinctively reach out to grab her, but I'm too late and too far away. She falls deep into the chamber, slams against the curved wall several hundred feet below, and then disappears into the darkness down below.
Chapter Thirteen
Elizabeth
It's no use. No matter how hard I try, I can't break these chains. I was right earlier: Dad has succeeded where everyone else failed, he's managed to capture me and hold me like this. I just need to find a way to persuade him that this isn't the right choice.
Suddenly hearing a door open, I take a deep breath.
“I'm sorry about what I said,” I tell him, as I sniff back tears. “Mom wouldn't hate you, and I'm not sorry that you found me, I just... I don't want to do this. Can't you understand that? Please, Dad, just listen to me. We can figure this out, but I need you to hear what I'm saying first.”
I wait, but he doesn't reply.
“Dad?” I add cautiously, before turning to look at him.
“I'm afraid not,” Maxwell Carver says, staring down at me. “Elizabeth, I've just spoken to your father in the main control room, and he's decided to stay in there.”