by J D Jacobs
I consider their perspective. There’s no overlooking that what they are doing is immoral. These people are begging to be killed. Even Xander said it himself when I was in Westwood: sometimes these people need desperate help in order to escape the pain of egotoning. That is why Delighting is a thing. But these people won’t get that help; instead, they’ll rot away in their cell in agony. I try to think positive, though, and consider the possibility that the solution to this entire epidemic could be hidden in this grotesque experiment that’s going on.
“Yeah, I understand and all, but I think I’m gonna call it a night anyway,” Cody tells Ricardo as he heads for the door. “I’ve seen about all I can take today. Maybe tomorrow y’all can show me a dragon or something.”
“Wait up,” I call to him. “I’m going with you. I’m sorry Lucas, Reggie, Mr. Ricardo. No offense to you three, I just don’t feel comfortable being in this room. Maybe if I have a night to sleep on it, I’ll understand. But I should have listened when you suggested not showing us this room, so my apologies. Hopefully y’all can show me the rest of the lab tomorrow.” I sure to God hope they won’t.
“We absolutely understand,” Reggie tells me. “It’s a concept that’s hard to grasp, but it’s an important experiment, it really is. You two get some rest, we will see you tomorrow morning!”
“Yes, goodnight,” Jenkins tells us. “Mr. Ricardo has a few more rooms to show us.”
“Goodnight, boys,” Stewart waves at us, smiling at us to hide his discomfort.
Cody and I wave goodbye to everyone in the room, then leave the lab. “This place is messed up,” I tell Cody once we get outside. “I’m ready to get out of here and be back in Tryton.”
“You got that right,” Cody agrees. “This city is just too much, man. And we’ve only been here for like six hours!”
“Those people in those cubes… How long are they going to be kept in there? We need to find a way to get them out.”
“Help them get out? Jaden, not only were we shot at, but we also just found out that this city secretly tortures people so they can be studied. We need to get ourselves out of here. Those people are already gone; we need to leave before we’re in those cubes.”
We’ve only taken a few steps down the street when we hear the doors fling open behind us. “Wait up,” Camila rolls herself out and calls out to us, “sorry, Phineas and Ferb, but Isaac and I are tagging along.”
“That’s fine,” I tell her. This actually works pretty well. We might can squeeze a few answers out of her. “What was that back there? Did you know about it?”
“Yep. Basically everyone in Avvil knows what they’re doing. It’s not as bad as it seems at first. It takes some time to get used to.”
“If you say so. Why’d they kick you two out? They want to show Jenkins and Stewart the rest of the place in private?” Cody asks.
“I guess so,” Camila answers as her brother catches up to her and pushes her. “Mr. Ricardo did the same thing when the Colorado people were here.”
“Do you know what it is he’s showing them?” I ask.
“I wish. Must be important. I suppose me and Isaac aren’t important enough, though. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard that.” She’s so nonchalant at demeaning herself.
“Don’t say that,” I tell her. “You two are definitely important. If not to Ricardo, then to us.”
“Please, quit with that crap. I’ve done nothing but insult you two all day. You two don’t give a damn about us,” Camila says. “I don’t want to get attached to new people, anyway. Or old people, for that matter. Isaac and I don’t need anyone else but each other.”
“C’mon, old people need love, too,” Cody jokes.
“And I can assure you that Cody and I give at least two damns about you two.”
Camila giggles. “I just meant… I don’t know. Last time new people came here… It just didn’t work out.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean exactly that. I wasted my time and their time, so no good comes in making friends in the apocalypse.”
“If it makes you feel any better,” I begin, “I’m somehow immune, so I won’t be getting killed by the virus anytime soon.” I wonder too late if telling her this information will come back to bite me. “You can’t waste your time with someone who can’t die from the apocalypse itself.”
“Congratulations, you get to suffer the longest,” Camila replies. She must not take me seriously; I don’t blame her. “Don’t let Mr. Ricardo know that, though. He’ll keep you in that glass cell forever if he found out.”
The thought of being imprisoned in a glass cell isn’t the first thing that looms at me. “Ricardo doesn’t know that I’m immune? Honestly, if he doesn’t know that, why are we even here?”
“Good question,” Cody concurs. “Considering I started out being the only person without a purpose for this trip, now you know how I feel.”
“You asked me that a couple of hours ago and I still don’t know,” Camila tells me. “You’re starting to annoy me with all these questions. Chill out.”
“Then quit telling us things that make us ask questions,” I respond.
We continue our walk and start talking about things that don’t have anything to do with Avvil’s mysteries. We got around to the question of what our favorite breakfast food was. Camila liked blueberry pancakes. She was going to answer for Isaac, but Cody and I refused to listen to her and wanted to hear it come from Isaac himself. “Mama’s French toast” was the only thing we could get him to say. Honestly it threw me off, because the thought of a seven-year-old Jaden Foxx eating homemade French toast that’s cooked by his mom was such a warming thought to me. It made me realize that this boy is in a similar boat that I was in at seven.
Getting our mind off of Avvil was comforting. This place may have secrets and may do very questionable things, but after Thursday, none of that will mean anything to me anymore. It’d be best to leave Avvil with a few friendships in mind instead of the negative events that have stuck to me so far.
We finally reach their house, with our hotel nearby. “I guess we will see you guys tomorrow,” I say, “I don’t really know wha–”
My eyes go black, but this time, I see the tiniest glimpse of Xander right before my vison leaves completely.
And I’m in another flashback, sepia filling my eyes. It’s easy to tell where I am in this flashback because I’m literally where I was five seconds ago: right in front of the house that Camila and Isaac stay at, looking at the nearing Grandsmont Hotel ahead of me. There’s a crowd surrounding me. I’m in a cleared path, much like the one that led me to the stage in my introduction ceremony. The crowd’s emotions are mixed: some cheering, some angry. The roar of the crowd flows together with the bongs coming from the large bell that extends toward the amber sky. The people seem blood-thirsty and fierce, which quickly makes me want to get out of this pathway.
There’s people walking the pathway behind me: two men, with one being pushed down the pathway from behind. The man in front has his hands tied behind his back, very upset about the circumstances he’s in. He yells at the man that’s escorting him from behind, but the escort just bears a cocky smile in response.
The two men walk right through me, a sentence that I never thought I’d say. I turn around to see where they are headed, and it’s then that I realize that the pathway leads to the Grandsmont Hotel. I want to follow the men to see why the pathway is leading to the hotel, but the voice of two additional men making their way down the path behind me grabs my attention instead.
“Let go of me, you sick freak!” the man yells at his escort behind him. These men are in the same scenario as the ones in front of them, except this time, I recognize the sick freak he’s referring to.
“Cállate, molesto cerdo!” Ricardo commands the man.
“He killed my people!” the man yells to the crowd. The crowd seems not to care, as they continue cheering Ricardo on and bashing the man. “He killed them! H
e’s a murderer! He turned them into egotoners; he murdered my people! Tyler Barr, Nicole Loom; they’re dead! Listen to me, please! I’m not insane!”
“You think they care about your people?” Ricardo says in the man’s ear. “You think they wish I wouldn’t have killed your Colorado crew? Hell, they encourage it! If you’re not from Avvil, nobody here cares about you.”
“Stop! Listen to me!” The man is desperately searching the crowd for one person to show him remorse, but not a single eye pities him. “Please listen! I’m telling the truth! Miguel Ricardo is a murderer! Listen to me! I’m not insane! I’m… I’m not.”
“You know what my philosophy is?” Ricardo asks the man who clearly has no concern with what the answer is. Ricardo’s grin looks far more unhinged than those in the crowd. “The one who has to clarify that he isn’t insane is usually the one who is absolutely, one-hundred percent fucking crazy. Screaming it at the top of your lungs just nails your coffin even tighter!”
They pass right through me, just like the last two. I take a step to follow them to the hotel, but my vision spirals out of control before I can move.
Cody is hovering over me, while Isaac and Camila give a concerning look from above. “You alright, man? What just happened?”
“I’m fine,” I tell Cody, sitting up and staring at the top of the hotel. Now’s the time to break my secret ability to him. “Cody, I’ve got to tell you something. I saw into the past. It’s an ability I’ve had for a while; I’ve just been keeping it from you. I pass out and can see things that happened in the past, even if I wasn’t there to experience it myself at the time.”
“Wait, what?” Cody asks, lost.
“It doesn’t matter right now,” I say, still focused on the hotel. “Camila, the people from Colorado, were there people named Tyler Barr and Nicole Loom in that group?”
I can see Camila’s shock from the corner of my eye. “Yeah, you were saying their names when you passed out. How did you know those people?”
“I saw Ricardo and another man escort two Colorado men toward the Grandsmont Hotel. There was a crowd cheering them on, excited about whatever was about to happen to those Colorado people. Their deaths, their torture, I don’t know. But whatever it was, the people in Avvil were hungry for it.” I then turn my eyes to Camila. “That hotel has thirteen floors, not twelve. What is on the thirteenth floor?”
Camila nervously averts her eyes and titters. “Are you sure that asking a crippled girl about the imaginary top-floor of a hotel that she doesn’t even live in is the smartest thing to do? Are you sure I’m the best person to ask?” Her edgy grin fades. “Then again, you ask anybody else about the thirteenth floor in a twelve-floor hotel, they may think you’re... insane.”
I stare at her, unmoved by her statement. She knows. “You were in the crowd, weren’t you?”
“You don’t need to know.” I’m startled to hear Isaac speak up. Camila slaps him on the arm to remind him not to speak.
“Yes I do,” I tell him softly. I then look back to Camila. “Please tell me. We don’t want to end up like them.”
Camila is noticeably uncomfortable with the situation I put her in. “You want to know why those Colorado people were heading to the hotel? Not because Mr. Ricardo didn’t like them or because everybody wanted their heads. It was because they started asking the wrong people the wrong questions.”
“Are you one of the wrong people?” Cody asks, timidity evident in his voice.
She looks at him, her face stern. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”
16.
“I don’t trust her, Jaden. She’s gonna kill us. If we want to survive, we have to find out what’s on that thirteenth floor.”
Shut up, Cody, I think to myself.
“I knew that Ricardo guy wasn’t on our side. He’s gonna try and find a way to kill us, too. We need to leave now. Like RIGHT now.”
Jesus Christ, Cody, shut up.
“What about Jenkins and Stewart? I bet they’re already dead. I bet Ricardo killed them. Yeah, he did! Jaden, how are we gonna get home if Stewart is dead? We have to figure something out.”
Ugh, he’s not going to quit talking.
“And what was that you said about an ability to relive the past? What is that all about!? Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Cody, will you please shut the hell up.”
He finally shuts his mouth as we make our way through the Grandsmont front door. We both stay quiet as we make our way to the elevator.
“Look,” I begin as the elevator door closes behind us, “yeah, this place is suspicious. Yeah, Ricardo might not want us here anymore. Yeah, the thirteenth floor is mysterious and could be filled with demons for all we know. But you’re overreacting.”
“Excuse me for not wanting to get murdered by these sketchy people we don’t know.” I can tell he’s mad I’m not as scared as he is, but as Grant told me earlier, being scared is a waste of time. The last thing we need to do is freak out.
We remain silent until we get back to our hotel rooms. It’s late and we’re both exhausted, so we immediately throw ourselves down on our beds. “I’m just scared, man,” he tells me as he gets under his sheets. “This place isn’t safe for us.”
“I know that. There’s nothing we can do about that now, though. We only have to shut up until Thursday.” It takes a while for our agitation to subside, but we both eventually fall asleep without saying another word…
I’m standing in the Grandsmont elevator, zooming upwards. I can tell I’m dreaming, as I’m not alone in the elevator: there’s a Grim in a yellow V-neck shirt standing next to me. He’s holding a small speaker in one hand and an iPod in the other, scrolling through it for a particular song.
“Hello,” I greet him, trying to sound as casual as possible. He looks up from his iPod and nonchalantly waves at me. He finds the song he’s looking for at the same time the elevator cab slams on the brakes and opens its doors. I look at the floor buttons to see which floor we’re on. The red emergency button is lit up.
An acoustic guitar leaks from the speakers. A very naked sound, no backup instruments or editing seems to have been done to it. The Grim begins to walk down the hall, and I follow him.
“Polly wants a cracker.” The speaker spills the first lyrics, but I pay more attention to the hall. Just like the other floors, this one only has rooms on one side of the hall. However, unlike the other floors, the side of the hall that faces the city is void of any windows.
A small crash of the cymbals brings me back into the song. “Let me clip, your dirty wings.” This song choice is definitely strange. The hall I’m down is even stranger. If this is the thirteenth floor, I expected it to be much more dangerous.
We pass by a break in the wall of hotel rooms. A small corridor separates from the hall we walk down and runs perpendicular to it. At the end of this new corridor is a set of double doors that appear to be leading to something important. I think this is our destination, but the Grim continues walking down the original hallway. I take a step toward the small corridor, curiosity leading the way.
After my first step, the music coming from the Grim’s speakers quickly fades to an echoed silence, and the Grim pauses in his tracks. The lights of the hallway cut off, leaving me in darkness, the only thing I can see is the silhouette of the Grim. My heart drops to my feet that seem to now be cemented into the floor. Fright punches me in the stomach, and I regret my diversion. I step back toward the Grim and continue on our initial path. The lights turn back on and the music instantly continues playing.
“Polly said…” the singer stops mid-sentence, and for a second I think that the music itself is about to quit again. “Polly says her back hurts.”
That phrase. That was the password Lucas used to get into the room of glass cells in the research lab. Does the fact that this Grim is playing this song right now have any significance?
At the end of the hall is the door that Cody and I saw the gunman at. Standing in the doorwa
y is a large, hooded figure, indistinguishable to the other hooded figures I’ve seen in my dreams before.
The Grim doesn’t slow his pace and try to be sneaky, which is what I would expect him to do. Instead, he passes the figure and moves to the side, then gestures for me to push the man out of the doorway and down to the platform twenty feet below him.
This is crazy. This Grim wants me to kill this man? I don’t even know if the drop would be enough to kill him; he’d have to land awkwardly enough on the stairs to break his neck.
But the Grim insists I push the figure. I don’t suppose I have much of a choice or the song will stop and he will send me back into darkness. I get directly behind the hooded man and push him with all my strength. The man flies off the ledge and tumbles down the stairs, crashing hard into the wall at the end of the stairs. Motionless. He’s dead. And I don’t really know why I did it.
I look back to the Grim, who is now pointing to a folded rope ladder in the corner of the hall. I grab the ladder and look for something close to the door that I can hook the ropes to so I can climb down from this floor. There are two metal hooks lodged in the floor of the doorway, so I attach the end ropes of the ladder to the hooks.
But as I do so, I feel a touch on my shoulder. A cold, loathsome touch. I don’t turn around because I already know who it is. It’s the Grim. He touched me. The Grims have never touched me before, because it means… he Delighted me. Am I about to die…?
I sit up in my bed, gasping for air, sweat flooding my forehead. I look at the alarm clock. 2:46 AM. I knew it was a dream the whole time, but even in my dreams, Grims had never touched me.
I see Cody sitting at the foot of his bed, his shirt thrown off and his sweat glistening in the amber moonlight that pours through the windowsill. “You have a nightmare, too?” I ask him, still catching my breath.
“Yeah,” he tells me, staring at the floor. “Thirty minutes ago.”