Addicted to the Light

by S. E. Amadis

  “Don’t worry, lovely,” he crooned in my ear over the phone. “Nothing’s wrong with Calvin. From what I’m aware, he’s back with his parents for a while is all. But his work is just as brilliant as ever and that’s all I care about.” He chuckled. “We missed you at this year’s Christmas dinner.”

  He was referring to the company’s annual Christmas dinner, which I’d attended the year before with Calvin, when I’d first met him. I nodded sadly and hung up the phone.

  I debated what to do with Romeo while I went off with Bogdan. As a nice Jewish girl from a nice Jewish home, we’d never been big on Christmas. But ever since I’d started going out with non-Jewish guys, I had to admit it was a delicious tradition which I’d started to entertain and even find delightful. Just last year, with Calvin in attendance, Romeo had hung up a stocking for the first time. And received his first Christmas gift from me, er, from Santa, I meant.

  I thought of Brenda, who I’d written off my list but fortunately, I’d never got around to erasing her number from my phone. Well, now that Calvin was no longer in the picture, I figured what the hell. As a babysitter she was kosher enough.

  Brenda was thrilled to welcome Romeo into her family for Christmas dinner.

  “We always have a turkey tempter for dinner on Christmas Eve,” she gushed, grasping him by the hand and pulling him into her living-room. “To whet our appetites for the real deal on Christmas day. In fact, if you want, I’m sure my family’ll be pleased as plush to have you stay here on Christmas day too.”

  I kissed him and hugged him tight, missing him already. And missing the lovely Christmas we wouldn’t get to spend together.

  But what the hell. I was dogged. There was no way I would skip out on Linds this time.

  This time I would make sure I was there for her.

  So I gave Romeo a final kiss before I headed out the door, marching towards something unknown and shiveringly, enticingly dangerous.

  Chapter 33

  We had a few hours before heading out, and we spent them in the back of a candy store run by one of Bogdan’s men. Briefly, Bogdan presented me to his employees, Tar, Spade and Quarryman. It was obvious these weren’t their real names, and I would never be privy to knowing a thing about them. I studied them surreptitiously.

  All three carried the air of weathered hitmen. Their faces were lined and hard. Their crow’s feet were etched in deep. Their muscles were bulging and well-developed. I didn’t think the few paltry techniques I’d learnt in self-defence class would do much for me if I ever had to face the likes of them as enemies.

  In the dungeon-like atmosphere behind the store, Bogdan cracked open his laptop and briefed us on what to expect.

  “Look,” he said, showing sketchy black-and-white footage of vague outlines on something that looked like Google Earth. “I have access to satellite images, and I’ve been making use of that privilege to scout out what’s been happening lately in the cult.”

  He zoomed in on what I could clearly make out were the main lodge and the surrounding terrain filled with snow-covered fields and the ubiquitous trailers dotted all over the place. He pointed a pen towards Lindsay’s trailer.

  “Your friend doesn’t live here anymore,” he said.

  We observed scenes of a young couple, the woman dressed in a fur-lined coat that fell to her feet, bearing a tiny infant about as they climbed in and out of the trailer.

  “I’m certain they have her sequestered in the main lodge now,” Bogdan continued, pointing at the mansion. “I’ve rarely ever seen them let her out anymore. Since there isn’t any work to be done in the fields in the middle of winter, and she obviously isn’t allowed to go to any of the businesses the sect runs, she hardly ever has any excuse to step foot outside.” He cleared his throat. “We do know, however, that she still remains with the cult.”

  He tapped at the computer screen again, showing previously recorded videos. We caught a few glimpses of her slogging about in the slush with a shovel, helping to clear away the snow before Tikvah and company took their van out, and again in the evening in anticipation of Tikvah’s return.

  From what I could discern in the foggy images, Lindsay hadn’t changed much. Only her wispy blonde curls had grown and now drifted delicately about her face and trailed down her back just a little below her collarbone.

  Bogdan snagged a few more amplified photos, which he laid out before us on the table. They were infrared depictions of the insides of the mansion.

  “This is where the inhabitants of the mansion sleep,” he said. “There are three floors. We know no one sleeps on the ground floor. Apparently the ordinary members sleep on the first floor while the elders bed down on the top.”

  “You can take such detailed infrared photos from a satellite?” I asked, puzzled.

  Bogdan glared at me.

  “There’s technology you wouldn’t even dream of, Annasuya.”

  He indicated the different warm-coloured stains on his photos.

  “What makes you think the elders are the ones sleeping on the top floor?” I continued, insistent.

  “First, they’re larger in size in general. And they each have their own room. And next, most of the people sleeping on the first floor do so in pairs. Double rooms, I suppose. Probably single people with no children.” He glanced over us. “Any of these pairs sharing a room could be Lindsay and Tikvah. Because I assume Lindsay continues to share her quarters with Tikvah.”

  “You don’t know?” Tar interjected, scowling.

  Bogdan scowled back.

  “No, Tar. I assume you’ll be able to identify the target and move her out in the few precious moments we’ll have at our disposition. That’s why I hired you.”

  He folded up his infrared photos and gathered his equipment together brusquely.

  “Well, that’s it. Let’s get a move on,” he commanded.

  As we walked down the gelid street lined with snowbanks, Bogdan brought me up to date on some of the details he hadn’t shared in the back room, because the men already knew them.

  “Our plan is to go in, grab Lindsay and disappear with her in the van.”

  “You’re going to just waltz right in under the very noses of Elder Brooks and Elder Smith and all those others?”

  “No.” Bogdan couldn’t help laughing in amusement. “We’re going to conk them out first, of course.”

  I gaped at him. “How?”

  Bogdan chortled again. I thought at that moment he bore an eerie resemblance to the jovial Santa Claus who was supposed to be making the rounds of the earth at that very instant.

  “I have an apparatus. There’s a ventilation opening at the back of the building. It’s connected to pipes that wind up throughout the building, with openings in every room. I’m going to remove the grating over the ventilation opening and pump gas in through the building using my apparatus. Tar and Spade are going to dash in and snatch your dear friend out while the whole house lies sedated, then Quarryman will do the honours of hightailing us all out of there triple speed in the van. And you, Annasuya...” He glared at me in warning. “You will stay put and act as docile as a mouse in the back of the van. One of the conditions of me allowing you to accompany us. Capish?”

  I nodded. Well, what else could I do? This was way over my head. But something occurred to me.

  “How are you going to gas them?” I said. “You won’t kill them, will you?”

  Another Santa Claus laugh.

  “Of course not, Annasuya. What do you take me for?” Bogdan grinned. “I’m going to use simple, innocuous rat anaesthesia. If they can thunk it safely on rats for surgery, you can be sure it won’t harm humans.”

  In the back of the van, Bogdan and his men took the time to change into white-coloured outfits.

  “This is so we can blend into the background,” Spade explained with a lopsided, little-boy grin that contrasted with his ferocious appearance.

  We drove out to Minerva and entered the woods. Quarryman manoeuvred the van with t
he expertise of someone who trundled this route a thousand times a day.

  “Yes, because this is a difficult path to memorize, I had him drive it over and over again,” Bogdan answered my unasked query. “We’ve also scouted out alternate escape routes. Just in case, you know.” He leaned back, cradled his head in his arms and stared at me. “In fact, all of us here are capable of driving this route with our eyes closed. By now you must be aware that I’m one of those people who leaves nothing to chance.”

  The weather accompanied us and the night was clear. Bogdan breathed a sigh of relief at the sign of tire treads clearly marked in the snow leading up to the sect’s grounds.

  “This way, our tracks won’t stand out,” he said.

  As we approached the entrance to the grounds, Quarryman killed the engine and the lights. He shifted the gear into neutral, and the lot climbed out and began to push the van noiselessly the rest of the way.

  “You can never be too cautious,” Bogdan continued with his running commentary.

  They parked at the edge of the grounds and the four men donned gas masks and moved out, leaving me alone in the van.

  “Hide in the back,” Bogdan advised me.

  And then they were gone.

  Chapter 34

  The wait struck me as eternal. All alone in the van, my too-fertile imagination had plenty of time to conjure up every terrible thing that could possibly go wrong. I played over a hundred worst-case scenarios in my mind, each one hairier than the last. In the end I had to grind my teeth into my fleece-lined suede gloves, bite them off and stick my fingers into my mouth, nibbling on my nails as only I knew how to do.

  At last I heard the sounds of hurried footsteps approaching. But also the brawl of barking dogs, muffled shouts and slamming doors in the distance. Bogdan yanked open the back door of the van with fury and shoved in a prostrate Lindsay while Tar and Spade piled in with her. Before they could close the door, Quarryman was already in the driver’s seat leaping across the countryside as if our life depended on it.

  We hurtled down the lonely country road as speedily as the multiple twists would allow us. Soon we heard engines roar behind us, although our pursuers were restricted by the same obstacles that kept our own speed down as well: the frequent twists and turns in the narrow roadway.

  “You didn’t tell me they had dogs,” Spade exclaimed accusingly.

  “As of yesterday, they didn’t,” Bogdan replied, grim.

  “So how come they got ‘em now?”

  “Our bad luck.”

  “Weren’t they sedated?” I ventured to ask.

  “Inside the mansion, yeah. But the dogs were outside,” Spade said. “And they woke up the people who lived in the trailers. And I expect the anaesthesia will start to wear off soon too, and then we’ll have the whole frigging lot barking up our trail to boot.”

  We reached the highway and hurled ourselves forwards like a rocket ship. Our pursuers were bearing down on our heels. Quarryman notched it up higher and higher. Soon it felt as if we were zooming down a veritable roller coaster. I grabbed onto a metal hook on the wall of the van.

  “You planning on roaring all the way back to the city driving like this?” I gasped out.

  Spade grinned at me.

  “Chill out, lass. This is the fun part,” he quipped.

  “I plan on roaring away like this as far as necessary,” Quarryman managed to reply somehow, even as he handled the wheel like a ninja.

  We heard shots behind us. Suddenly, some sort of flaming projectile ground its way in through the metallic back door. I dove for the floor instinctively, along with Bogdan and his men.

  “Shit!” Bogdan growled.

  He reached behind him and tossed out weapons to his men. He himself clambered into the passenger seat, lowered his window slightly and snaked the tip of what looked like a machine gun out through the slender crack.

  Tar and Spade appeared to be busy constructing some sort of makeshift barricade between Lindsay and me and the back of the van.

  “It always comes in handy to have one of these around,” Tar commented to me calmly. “Armoured steel. As long as you and Lindsay stay behind it, nothing should happen to you.”

  I curled up beside the still-comatose Lindsay, making myself as small as possible, and stroked her face, even though she was still limp as a rag doll. I tucked her in just a tad tighter behind the armoured steel.

  Tar and Spade rigged up another similar sort of contraption and ducked down behind it, then released the latch on the back door. The door swung open, and a hail of bullets battered in. Tar and Spade fired back. I cringed next to Lindsay, my ears ringing, my heart thudding wildly in my mouth.

  We must have ridden several miles this way, the two vehicles exchanging hostile fire without stop while the van wove back and forth crazily, tossing Lindsay and me about from side to side. I grasped onto the thin metal sheet for dear life. I would never for the life of me have ever imagined the prudish and medieval Elder Brooks counting on such sophisticated resources.

  Unexpectedly, a shot hit home. Spade groaned like a mule getting his molars pulled and tumbled to the floor beside me. I peeked out from behind the metal sheet, nearly jamming my fingernails into my mouth again.

  “Spade?” I whispered, shaking his arm. “You okay?”

  Spade groaned again. I breathed a sigh of relief. At least he was still alive.

  “Can’t breathe,” he gasped out.

  He lifted his arm almost imperceptibly, dropped the tip of some sort of machine gun into my hand. I stared at it in horror, unable to tear my gaze away. In the background, as if from an immense distance, I was aware of shots still ringing out around me. But I felt as if someone had pulled mufflers or ear protectors over me.

  “Your turn, Annie,” Spade breathed, his breath forming ice crystals in his beard and rasping out in thin, almost non-existent halos in the air. “Show ‘em we did well in bringing you along.”

  His fingers wiggled slightly, arched as if trying to form a thumbs-up. Then he slumped to the ground. I couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead.

  Chapter 35

  I fumbled at the ice-covered metal, tried to curve my fingers around the unfamiliar form. I heaved myself up onto my elbows and clumsily tried to right the strange contraption and aim it in the general direction of the door. Tar glanced at me, stern-faced.

  “Don’t worry about aiming with that thing, Ann. Just point at the door and fire. We want to bring all of those bastards down.”

  I shrugged, grasped the two things sticking downwards that I assumed were the grips, pointed at the door and fired. It nearly wrenched my arms off.

  Well, it was what Tar told me to do, right? The machine gun rattled so hard along my arms it almost threw me to the ground. The deafening roar reverberated through my skull.

  Finally I heard cries and thuds beyond my line of vision. I didn’t dare to peek out to see what was happening, but the bullets started pinging on the sides of the van instead of grinding straight at us. Instinctively, I dropped my heavy weapon and shoved the metal sheet between Lindsay and myself and the wall of the van.

  Something crunched against the van with irresistible force. Tar leapt away without wasting a second, his well-honed military instincts kicking in automatically. I could only give thanks that I didn’t happen to be on the same side.

  Quarryman jerked at the wheel, swerving us towards the left, spilling me into a floundering heap in a corner. I nearly bumped my head against the metallic wall.

  The van tipped to one side. Quarryman righted it with lightning reflexes. Then something dove into us again.

  Quarryman swayed back and forth across the pavement, the pounding of asphalt against ribs jarring into my spine. I felt as if my brain were turning into mush.

  Crouched in the passenger seat, Bogdan seized his weapon with an iron grip and aimed again through the sliver of opening in his window while Quarryman continued zigzagging.

  I flayed, reached out for something to grab o
nto and missed and tumbled into a heap on the ground a second time. Lindsay tumbled after me, landing in a mountain of patchwork and legs and thermal leggings on top of me. Her rhythmic breathing told me she was still out of it. Hauling myself up from underneath her dead weight, I marvelled at the efficiency of rat anaesthesia.

  Coming back down to earth, I grasped the machine gun again with determination, fired another round into the vague distance, joining my efforts to Tar’s. Unbelievably, I was actually starting to get used to this goddamn contraption.

  I heard a steady hail of bullets against metal, far away. Shouts and screams of agony.

  Then at last, a faint crash, then finally, an explosion. Tar pulled himself back inside the van and slammed the door tight, a look of grim jubilation decorating his face.

  “Whoo-whee, man!” he screamed. “Now this is the life!”

  But then he glanced down at Spade, and his expression was anything but joyous.

  *

  Quarryman dumped Lindsay, Bogdan and me out at another underground hiding place in yet another sleazy neighbourhood seeded with abandoned warehouses. Lindsay was starting to come to and her head lolled about groggily. Supported by Bogdan and me, we somehow managed to shuffle her down into the hidden room Bogdan had prepared for her.

  “Will she have to stay here long?” I asked Bogdan in dismay.

  He shrugged.

  “Depends on her. Depends how she feels about her friendly, loving religious family when she wakes up. If she’s raring to hightail it back to them, she’ll have to remain here longer.”

  This room was a bit cosier than the fake hospital ward. The walls were painted a friendly lavender, and photos of nature scenes and vividly tinted flowers decorated our surroundings. The night table was wood this time instead of metal. There were two comfy armchairs that looked soft and new. Subtle halogen lamps in warm tones illuminated the space.

  We laid Lindsay gently in the snug bed covered with a girlish quilt decorated with drawings of lipstick and powder puffs. I pulled off my coat and settled into one of the springy armchairs. Bogdan followed suit and settled in the other one.