by Amy Cross
“I...”
She paused, trying to decide.
“Ruth,” she said finally. “My name's Ruth. I mean, it is now. I mean...”
Her voice trailed off.
“You were difficult to find, Ruth,” he said, stepping into the room. “Somebody went to great lengths to hide you in the system. I suppose it was assumed that you'd be a person of interest. After all, nobody was supposed to have made it out of Leadenford before it was destroyed. You were supposed to have burned with all the rest of them. I doubt that very many people know the truth, that you were spirited away by a kind soldier who couldn't stand there and watch all the death without trying to help. He was a good man, although he certainly took a huge risk. In different circumstances, his actions could have had dreadful consequences.”
He reached out to touch her arm, but she pulled away.
“You're a child of one of the original martyrs,” he told her.
“Of the what?”
“Leadenford proved that the struggle is real. All those people in that hospital were slaughtered, for the single crime of being different. Of being new. Your mother Cally was among their number. The man who saved you is dead, as is your birth father, so now you are the only survivor. That leaves you in a very special position. Your arrival here is part of the great prophecy.”
“I think I want to leave now,” she said firmly.
“Really? You want to go back to the society that murdered your mother?”
“I...”
Her voice trailed off as she found herself once again thinking back to that hospital room in Leadenford.
“Your mother became a monster, didn't she?” Mr. Velucci continued. “She even bit you. I noticed the scar. You were very lucky not to end up like her. Rest assured that the monsters are merely a wretched side-product of human actions. They should not exist at all.”
Reaching up, Ruth touched the scar on the side of her neck. The damaged skin might be covered by a tattoo, but she could still feel the contours where the decade-old wound had healed. In that instant, she remembered a different version of her mother; a snarling, angry monster.
“Your mother only became that monster because of the treatment she received at Leadenford,” Mr. Velucci explained. “Even the great Doctor Page lacked the vision necessary to see what should have been done. If your mother had been fed and nourished properly, she would have fulfilled her potential. She would not have become what she became. You can honor your mother, however, by ensuring that nobody else has to endure such horrors. I never met your mother, Ruth, but I'm quite sure that it's what she would have wanted.”
“This is all crazy,” Ruth stammered, still touching the scar, still remembering her mother's violent attack all those years ago. “None of it makes any sense.”
“But it will,” Mr. Velucci said, stepping closer and reaching out, taking her hand. This time, Ruth didn't pull away. “Don't feel bad for repressing your memories of your mother. You remember her now, and that's what's important. In her memory, you must now seize your role in our march to the future.”
Hearing a door opening nearby, Ruth turned just in time to see a man slipping into the room and whispering into Mr. Ford's ear. Mr. Ford listened, then nodded, then turned to Mr. Velucci as the man departed.
“It seems we're slightly ahead of schedule,” Mr. Ford said with a faint smile. “The prophecy is coming true. The chosen vessel has been seen coming this way. The Pure One approaches.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Judy's left foot caught on a piece of rock and dragged slightly, causing her to stumble, but she managed to keep walking. Away from the town now, she was making her way up a steep incline that led toward the villa high above.
Bumping against another rock, she let out a faint grunt but kept going. She could barely even think anymore; all she could do was keep stumbling toward the villa, filled with a sense that when she arrived she'd find something she'd been searching for all her life.
And the pain would be over.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Where the hell is she?” Merrie muttered as she followed Gemma and Kay along the brightly-lit strip, where pubs and bars were starting to switch on their evening lights. “This isn't like her.”
“Keep up!” Gemma yelled, turning to her and grinning. “Your sister'll be fine. She's probably gone on some tourist trip to a set of ruins.”
“She'd leave a note,” Merrie said, looking around in the vain hope that she might yet spot Judy. “She's always been the responsible one. The adult.”
Spotting some posters on a nearby wall, she stopped and felt a flicker of dread in her belly as she saw more pictures of people who'd gone missing on the island. Each poster showed a photo of a guy or a girl – usually young, usually smiling – alongside a list of physical characteristics and some basic information about how they'd vanished. As Merrie skim-read the various listings, she couldn't help but notice that they'd all vanished while staying in the local area.
But Judy wouldn't go missing, she told herself. Judy's too smart for that.
“There you are!” Gemma shouted, and Merrie turned to see that Kay and Greg were coming out of a local tattoo studio. “I'm not even going to ask what you've been doing all day!”
Sighing, and telling herself that it wasn't time – yet – to start worrying, Merrie wandered over to join them. She forced a smile, but deep down she wanted to tell the others that she was skipping Apocalypse. She wanted to spend the evening searching for Judy so she could make sure her sister was okay.
“So,” Kay giggled, “who wants to get totally trashed tonight? I mean really, seriously wasted.”
***
Ignoring the laughter outside, Javier focused on his phone as he brought up Ruth's number and finally tapped to call her. He'd been delaying this moment all day, but finally he'd come to realize that he had no choice. He needed to make sure that she was okay.
“Pick up the phone,” he muttered as he waited for the call to connect. “This is just -”
“Hey,” Ruth said suddenly on the other end of the line, and it sounded as if she was keeping her voice low. “I can't talk right now. Can I call you back?”
“There's some money here for you,” he lied.
“What?”
“I accidentally missed some out of your last pay packet,” he continued. “If you want to drop by and pick it up, I'll be around all evening.”
He waited, but she said nothing and he was already starting to realize that something seemed to be wrong.
“Ruth?” he said after a moment. “What is it?”
“I don't think I'm going to be able to make it into town for a little while,” she said cautiously. “Just keep the money until I manage to drop in, okay?”
“How's the new job going?” he asked.
“Fine! It's fine! Everything's fine!” There was a pause. “Something's just come up,” she added finally, “that's all. Something I have to get my head around. It's nothing, really, but I think I need some space. Please try to understand that.”
“Huh.” He paused, acutely aware that she sounded rattled. “You know,” he continued, “I could always bring it up to you. I don't mind dropping it off at the -”
“Don't do that!” she blurted out.
“Okay.” He paused again. “I know you, Ruth. I know when something's not right, and you sound scared.”
“I'm not scared. Why would I be scared?”
“That's what I'm starting to wonder. Ruth, I want to see you.”
“That's not possible right now.”
“Ruth, I need to make sure that you're -”
Stopping suddenly, he realized he could hear another voice on the line. Somebody was whispering to Ruth, almost as if she was being fed lines. Straining to hear, Javier found that he couldn't actually make out any of the words.
“I'm going to have to go now,” Ruth said suddenly. “I have a lot to do here, and I really don't have time to talk while I'm on the clock. I'll tr
y to come down and see you soon, Javier, but I can't promise when that'll be. My new job is pretty time-consuming and I have to focus on my career. You should too. It was fun working with you, Javier, but that period is in the past now. Thank you and goodbye. Good luck with everything in your future. It's going to be okay, Javier. I know it will. All of it.”
Javier opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly the line went dead.
He pulled his phone away from his ear and looked at the screen, shocked that she'd hung up on him.
“Fine,” he muttered, setting the phone down and turning back to his desk, “if that's how you want to do it, then I'm not going to beg you. Good luck with your fancy new job. I'm sure you'll be a high-flier in no time.”
“Hey, do you want to come to Apocalypse?” Greg asked.
Turning, Javier saw him standing in the doorway.
“I've met these really cool girls,” Greg continued, “and between you and me, they seem hot for some action. I've got a thing going with the hot one, but the other two are alright too. You certainly wouldn't say no. So how about shutting the shop early and letting your hair down?”
“I have work to do,” Javier said dourly.
“You don't have any appointments in the book.”
“So I'll have more time for walk-ins.”
“Javier, cut me some -”
“I'm not going to some shitty club!” Javier yelled angrily, finally losing his temper. “Do what you want, but don't try to drag me into your moronic nocturnal activities! I've got better things to do than drink myself into oblivion!” Looking over at the window, he saw Merrie, Gemma and Kay loitering outside. “More drunk English girls, huh? Great, that's just what this town needs. I would be much happier if I'd never met an English girl in my life.”
“Dude, are you -”
“Now get out of here!” he snapped. “Just go, okay! Go!”
“Sure,” Greg replied, shocked as he took a step back. “Whatever. Chill, man.” He turned to leave, before remembering one more thing. “Oh, and if Colin drops by for me, can you tell him to come by in the morning? He's gone silent on me and I really need to ask him about some stuff.”
He waited for a reply.
“Javier, did you -”
“I heard!” Javier snapped, looking back down at his appointments book. “Now go. Get drunk. Vomit. Do whatever it is that you do.”
Greg hesitated, and then finally he went out to join the girls.
Javier tried for a moment to focus on work, but all he could think about was his phone conversation with Ruth. She'd seemed so detached, so uninterested, as if she'd been trying to make him feel unimportant. He'd always thought that Ruth was special, that they had a connection, but now it was clear that he'd been wrong all along. She was just like all the other transient people who drifted through Mallaca. He'd been wrong about her.
Finally, as his frustration erupted, Javier took the appointments book and threw it against the opposite wall.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“She's here,” Mr. Ford said as he led Ruth past the swimming pool and out toward the edge of the scrub-land. “This is the moment we've been waiting for.”
“Do you mind if I go into town tomorrow?” she asked, hurrying after him. “I think I want to go and see someone. I need to set something straight.”
“You'll be far too busy tomorrow,” he replied dismissively. “Forget about the town, nothing down there matters anymore.” Stopping next to the low white wall, he squinted as he looked down the hill. “Where is she?” he muttered, ignoring the bright lights of town and instead watching the darkness of the hill. “After all this time, she's finally close. Everything has been building toward this moment.”
“The prophecy, right,” Ruth muttered, stopping next to him and looking down the side of the hill, but seeing only a few bushes in the gloom. “You know, I still don't think I quite understand what this prophecy is all about. I mean, as far as I can tell it's only a bunch of ideas about stuff that might happen.” She turned to Mr. Ford. “Unless you're suggesting that Mr. Velucci somehow received some kind of... message. From...”
Her voice trailed off.
“Every great story needs to be kick-started a little,” Mr. Ford replied, still watching the hillside. “Mr. Velucci is a visionary. He created the prophecy. He shaped it. He ensured that it came to pass.”
“So it's all basically made-up?”
“Why did you come to Mallaca, Emma?”
“I came to start again,” she replied. “And it's Ruth, if you don't mind. I'm still not quite sure I want to be called Emma again.”
“But why did you specifically come here, to Mallaca?” he asked. “Did you, perhaps, see adverts for the island?”
“It was everywhere,” she told him. “In the papers, on the radio, on websites... For a while, you couldn't move without seeing an advert for Mallaca.”
“That was Mr. Velucci's way of reaching out,” Mr. Ford explained. “He knew roughly where to find you, so he set out to influence your decisions.”
“That's nuts,” she pointed out. “There's no way he could have persuaded me to come out here.”
“And yet you are here,” he replied. “If Mr. Velucci hadn't been working for years to guide you here, then this would all be a very big coincidence. I rather think that you're underestimating the power of advertisements.”
“But -”
“Others came, too. They ended up being used for tests, mostly. They were, in their own different ways, very useful.”
“What exactly have you been doing to people?”
“You won't leave,” he explained. “The secret to your past, to your whole life, can only be uncovered if you stay here. Nobody could run away from that.”
“But -”
“Wait here,” he added, turning and heading back toward the pool. “Perhaps she's on the other side.”
“Who is?” Ruth called after him, before sighing and turning back to look down the hill. She wanted to run away, to race back down into the town and tell Javier everything, then maybe to go to the police. At the same time, she knew Mr. Ford was right, and she figured she could afford to at least wait around a little longer and learn more. “This whole thing is -”
Suddenly she let out a gasp and stepped back, as she saw a human figure lumbering straight toward her. Before she could say anything, the figure stepped into the light of the villa, and Ruth saw a pale, sickly face staring back at her with an empty gaze.
“Who the hell are you?” Ruth stammered, before stepping aside as the figure came closer.
Stopping after a couple of paces, Judy stood and swayed for a few seconds before slowly starting to turn. As she did so, Ruth got another look at her face, and she felt a shudder pass through her chest as she realized she'd seen something like this once before.
For a moment, she remembered the sight of her mother on the hospital ward at Leadenford.
“No,” she whispered.
Judy let out a faint gasp and took a shuffling step closer.
“Stay away from me!” Ruth shouted, stepping back as she felt the panic rippling through her body. “Don't come anywhere near me!”
Judy groaned as she reached out to grab her arm.
“No!”
Hurrying back, Ruth watched with a growing sense of horror as Judy began to stumble after her. And with each passing second, she was realizing more and more that this was somehow related to everything that had happened all those years ago in the hospital. It was as if that long-burned nightmare was suddenly erupting back into her life.
“Get back!” Mr. Ford shouted, hurrying over and pulling Ruth away. “You don't want another mark on your neck, do you?”
“Is this who we were waiting for?” Ruth asked, keeping her eyes fixed on Judy. “What's wrong with her?”
“Nothing's wrong with her,” Mr. Ford replied. “In fact, a great deal is right with her. I'm surprised you can't sense that she -”
Before he could finish, Judy t
ook a stumbling step forward, and they both hurried back.
Reaching out, Judy gasped again, and this time the sound began to twist until it became a kind of low, guttural growl.
“She looks like a...”
Ruth's voice trailed off as she realized that the next word would have sounded ridiculous.
“Like a zombie?” Mr. Ford asked. “That's as good a word as any, but this young lady isn't actually dead. She's merely approaching the point of transition, although until this point she has remained unsupported. She's in the right place now, however, and Mr. Velucci will ensure that she's nourished from this point onward. The future is growing in her body, and soon she'll begin to achieve her full potential. We only -”
Suddenly he pulled Ruth aside, as Judy stumbled forward again. This time, however, Judy began to make her way past them, heading toward the main part of the villa.
“She's been drawn here,” Mr. Ford explained, his eyes filled with anticipation as they both watched Judy stumbling past the pool. “Call her a zombie if you want, but what we're witnessing is a moment of absolute purity. She's never been polluted, she's never had chemicals pumped into her body in some misguided attempt to kill the new life that's stirring. She's clean. She's pristine. And now she's here.”
“What are you going to do to her?” Ruth asked cautiously.
Mr. Ford paused, before setting off after Judy.
“What are you going to do to her?” Ruth asked again, before realizing that she wasn't going to get an answer, not without following them both and seeing for herself.
And although she wanted desperately to go back down into town, and to see Javier again, she began to follow Mr. Ford as he in turn followed Judy. She told herself that she was out of her depth, but deep down she felt a strong need to witness whatever was about to happen. Because when she'd first seen Judy's face, she'd been unable to ignore the fact that something very similar had once happened to her own mother.