Bellwether

by Jenny Ashford

  “You don’t believe that.” Chloe’s voice was gentle but firm.

  Martin stared down at his hands. “I know. What are we going to do about him? About any of this?”

  There was a long pause as they considered the questions. The silence stretched on as each of them evidently came up empty.

  Olivia rinsed her coffee mug and bagel plate in the sink. “I’m going to go take a shower,” she said. “I guess I’d better put in a few hours at work. Not that Sammy would notice if I didn’t show up.” She drifted up the stairs, and Martin heard the bathroom door close.

  “You should get some sleep, babe.” Martin reached across the table and stroked Chloe’s hand. Ivan shifted on the cot, snuffling and muttering to himself, then fell silent again. Chloe turned her head to watch him.

  After a moment, she spoke; her head was still turned away, and for a second Martin thought she was talking to Ivan, or to herself. “What’s really behind that wall?”

  When Martin realized the question was directed at him, he felt his heart flutter a little in his chest. He didn’t want to tell her, not really, and it wasn’t just because he didn’t want her to know. It was because telling her would mean remembering it, describing it out loud, and this was something he was very reluctant to do. He could tell she sensed his hesitation and felt glad she didn’t press him. Still, now was not the time for dishonesty. This thing had gotten too big for that. He cleared his throat. “Nothing was back there,” he said hoarsely, not able to look into her eyes as he spoke. “By nothing, I mean, literally, nothing. No floor, no walls, no ceiling. Just…blackness.” He paused; that hadn’t really been the right word. “Emptiness,” he said, and that wasn’t really right either, but it was closer. As he had feared, saying it out loud brought the vivid memory back to him, peering into the impossible void with that pitiful flashlight beam, looking for some reality which just wasn’t there. He shivered. “I’m sorry I lied,” he added, then finally managed to look up at her.

  Chloe’s expression hadn’t changed. She still looked exhausted, yet strangely alert, watchful. Her next words were a surprise. “I think we should open it up again.”

  Martin felt all the color drain from his face. “No way. If you could have seen it…”

  “It protects us, in the dreams,” she broke in, her eyes glittering at him across the kitchen table. “It protects us from them, the people who got Ivan.”

  “We don’t know that,” Martin said.

  “It keeps them out,” Chloe persisted. “Since the people out there are bad,” and here she gestured vaguely toward the porch where Ivan was still sleeping, “then it stands to reason that what’s behind the wall is good. Besides,” she went on, “Olivia told you about the blueprints. There was a room back there. Maybe the light wasn’t good enough to see anything when you looked. We have to be sure.”

  Martin could see her point but he still didn’t like it. The infinite nothingness he’d seen through his crudely made hole—it didn’t seem as though there could be anything good about it. On the other hand, he had only looked once, very quickly. Still, his skin prickled remembering it. “Maybe you’re right, but…” He tried to put his objections into words, but he couldn’t think of any argument that might convince her.

  A second later, he was saved from his dilemma by a hard pounding on the front door. He looked at Chloe, stricken, but then he heard a familiar voice calling. “Hey guys, it’s me. Hope you don’t mind me just popping in like this.” Seth.

  Martin got up. “I’ll get it. Watch Ivan a minute, looks like he’s waking up.” Ivan had, in fact, propped himself up on one elbow and was looking at them through the back door, blinking, still groggy with sleep.

  “Sure.”

  Martin made his way out to the living room and flung open the front door. Seth stood there on his spindly legs, his purple hair pulled back in a ponytail atop his otherwise shaved head. He wore a lopsided grin that revealed his three missing teeth, the remaining ones charmingly crooked. “Shit, man, your arm’s broken,” he said, the grin disappearing.

  “Yeah. My brain would have been broken if you hadn’t saved my ass last night. Come on in.”

  Seth crossed the threshold, looking around with something like wonderment. “Seems different in the daytime, without all the people here.”

  “You want coffee or Coke or a beer or something?” Martin asked as he led the way to the kitchen.

  “Nah, I’ll just grab a glass of water out of the tap. How’s Ivan?”

  “See for yourself.” They entered the kitchen just as Chloe was getting up to rinse out her coffee mug. On the back porch, Ivan was sitting up on his cot, his arm stretched awkwardly behind him, the cuffs rattling. His face was blank, but his eyes looked feral.

  “Fuck. This is heavy.” Seth peered out at Ivan, studying him the way one would study an alien species. “Has he tried to get away?”

  “Not so far, but he only just woke up. Give him time.” Chloe crossed her arms and leaned against the stove. “Hi, by the way. How’s Franklin doing?”

  Seth fetched a glass from the dishwasher and filled it with water from the faucet. Then he sat at the table and shook his head. “Not good, man, not good. I mean, physically he’s mostly all right and everything, but mentally…” He twirled a finger around his ear. “Totally batshit.”

  Chloe sighed. “Like Ivan.”

  “Worse than Ivan. I mean, we took the kid back to our apartment last night. Well, all the way home in the van, he was crying and screaming, trying to jump out the doors and shit. Like an animal. He was just begging us to take him back to that church. It was crazy.” He tipped his head back and gulped down half the glass of water.

  Martin frowned. “Did you get him home?”

  “Yeah, finally. We put him in his room and he just kept freaking out all night, screaming and kicking at the door. He even tried climbing out the window, and we’re on the third floor. We heard him and busted in there before he could get out, though. Christ, he fought us like a wildcat when we grabbed him, gave Lance a black eye, little shit.” His shoulders slumped forward, and Martin could see now that Seth probably hadn’t gotten any sleep either. “I never saw anybody act as fucked up as that. What the hell is going on with that place?”

  “We don’t really know, but those people are dangerous,” Martin said. “I mean, that’s pretty obvious. I don’t think the followers can do much of anything, except convincing other people to join. That old woman or whatever she is…” He trailed off, remembering that blinding flash of light, there and gone so quickly that he wasn’t sure he’d even seen it. “All she did was touch Franklin and look what happened. If she’s that powerful, then she could…”

  “Just cruise down the street and convert people right and left,” said Olivia, who had come down from the bathroom with her wet hair still wrapped in a towel. She’d been leaning quietly in the doorway, listening. “If she can do that, why doesn’t she?”

  “Maybe the church doesn’t want just anybody,” Chloe suggested. “Or maybe they want people to come to them of their own free will.”

  “Maybe she just wasn’t powerful enough yet,” said Martin darkly. All of them fell silent for a long moment as they let this possibility sink in.

  “And now she is.” Chloe’s voice sounded hollow.

  “It’s going to happen soon.” Ivan’s voice came suddenly from outside, making all four of them jump. Martin had almost forgotten about him out there, watching and listening. “You’ll see.” He fell silent again, pulling a little at his cuffs, making the chain rattle.

  Seth got up from the table and went to the back door. “So what’s he doing out there? Can’t you lock him in his room or something?” It seemed he knew better than to ask Ivan; his question was directed at the others.

  Martin debated whether or not he should open this can of worms. He was really too
tired to go into a detailed explanation; on the other hand, maybe they needed all the help they could get, especially with Ivan out to lunch. The menace touched Seth as well; it didn’t seem fair to keep things from him. Martin glanced over at Chloe and saw his own thought processes reflected in her face.

  When she saw him looking, she smiled a little, then nodded. “We can’t get him inside,” Martin began, then briefly told Seth all that they had theorized about the house, about all the dreams.

  When he had finished, Seth looked very thoughtful. “I wonder if we brought Franklin here if you’d have the same problem getting him through the door,” he said. “If we did, then that would be more evidence that you were on the right track.”

  “So you don’t think we’re crazy?” Chloe asked, only half in jest.

  Seth turned from the back door, where Ivan was watching him like a caged animal. “After what happened last night, I think I’m ready to believe anything.” He looked down at his watch. “Shit, I told the rest of the guys I wouldn’t be gone long. Franklin might be climbing the damn walls again.” He put his empty glass in the sink, then headed toward the kitchen door. “We can bring Franklin over later, or tomorrow if you want, just to see what happens.”

  “Okay. I think I already know, but it’ll be good to know for sure,” Martin said.

  “Right. Anyway, I’ll give you a call. Let me know if anything changes with cult-boy over there.” Seth jerked his thumb toward Ivan, who was smiling, ever so slightly.

  After Seth had gone, Martin put his good arm around Chloe’s shoulders. “We’re going to figure this out, okay? Don’t worry about it. You‘re going upstairs and getting some sleep, missy. You stay awake much longer you’ll start having hallucinations or psychotic breaks or something.” He didn’t mention that the dreams would be doubly bad; he could see in her expression that she already knew. He just hoped she’d be able to get some rest in spite of them.

  “Yeah, I am about ready to collapse.” She kissed Martin on the cheek, then dragged herself up the stairs.

  While Martin cleaned up the remaining dishes, Olivia fluffed out her hair, running a comb through it as she stood in the doorway, watching Ivan. “How much longer is this shit going to go on?” she said.

  “I don’t know. Maybe if we put our heads together and do something…” He wasn’t really sure what else to say, so he let the sentence dangle. He had no idea what they could really do to help Ivan, or if they could stop any of this.

  Olivia turned to him, her towel slung over one shoulder. “Will you be okay to watch him if I go to work for a few hours?”

  “Yeah. I think everything’s under control.”

  Olivia’s eyes were glittering. “When I get back, I want to help you tear out that wall,” she said.

  Chapter Twenty

  The church was a mess after the near-riot the night before; Father had set the acolytes the task of cleaning the place up as soon as everyone had rolled out of bed.

  Lily had chosen a spot near the back, close to the storeroom door. Father was back there talking, and even though the door was closed, his voice was raised enough that Lily could make out most of what he was saying. Mother must have been answering him, but of her replies, Lily could hear nothing.

  “It must be nearly time.” Father’s voice was deep and sonorous. He had been hurt the night before, hit in the head by one of the invaders, but he didn’t seem too much the worse for wear. “Especially with the new ones we’ve taken. We lost a few, true, but…”

  There was a strange grunting sound that might have been a laugh, then a few moments of silence.

  “You’re sure they’ll come back?” Father asked. There was another pause, shorter this time.

  “I just wish we could finish our business here and leave,” Father said. He sounded miserable and exhausted, and Lily was startled. She had never perceived any weakness in either of her masters before. Father was still talking in his beaten-down voice. “I didn’t think that it would take this long, that it would be so…complicated. Already the people from that house have fought back against us.”

  There was another sound, this one like a metal chair scraping against concrete. Lily heard Father gasp.

  “I’m not a coward!” he said. “I fought for you since the beginning, always been there to do your bidding. I merely questioned whether —”

  A low growl cut him off. The palpable sense of Mother’s fury traveled through the door frame, making Lily shudder.

  There were no further words from behind the door, but seconds later Father burst through it, his face red but composed, his eyes hard. “Thank you for all your help,” he said to the room at large, and everyone, including Lily, turned toward him with expectant and slightly awestruck expressions on their faces. “Last night showed us the extent of the persecution we are up against. The people who came here will stop at nothing to destroy us.” He breathed out and in audibly, like a bull. Lily couldn’t help but think of Mother apparently threatening him only seconds before; it made him seem different in her eyes. Vulnerable.

  “You must double your efforts,” Father went on, folding his arms across his barrel chest and drumming his forearms with his fingers. “We must raise an enormous army to defeat the enemies of the light. When you have brought enough followers into the fold, we will go to the house of our attackers and make them pay for what they have done.” He stood there a moment, his back very straight, his chin raised. Then he nodded once, turned on his heel, and disappeared into the storeroom, where the shrouded Mother evidently waited with further instructions and blandishments. The door closed with a slam.

  Lily, roused by Father’s call to action, quickly finished cleaning up her area. She looked around for Rose, hoping her sister would accompany her on her rounds today, but the girl was nowhere to be seen. Lily was disappointed; she hadn’t realized how lonely it would be without Ivan here. There was still much work to be done. Leaving the other followers to their chores, she slung a bag of flyers around her neck and set out into the morning.

  * * * *

  Martin, Olivia, and Chloe stood on the landing as twilight deepened outside the kitchen window. A little while earlier, Seth and the guys had brought Franklin over to the house, the kid practically frothing at the mouth. Just as they had suspected, all their efforts to pull Franklin into the house were in vain. The other guys in the band were freaked out, but Seth just shook his head sadly. When the others took Franklin back home, Seth decided to stay and watch the destruction of the wall. Martin was reluctant at first, but then he figured Seth earned it.

  Chloe brought the tools necessary, and now they were all just standing there, waiting for someone to make the first move. Martin wasn’t sure about the others, but he felt oddly dislocated, as if he was floating a few feet above his own body. It might have been just the delayed effects of missing most of a night’s sleep, or simply the surreal aspect of the last few weeks’ events. Whatever the case, the feeling wasn’t a pleasant one, and downing two cups of black coffee only made Martin feel more bizarre and disembodied.

  The back door was propped open with a chair in which Seth perched, attentive, watching Ivan and the stair landing with equal fascination. Ivan had not spoken a word since his mysterious outburst earlier, but had sat perfectly still on his cot, looking neither bored nor interested. He hadn’t asked for food, or asked to be freed to go to the bathroom. A glass of water Olivia had set near him was untouched. These facts disturbed Martin greatly.

  Finally, Chloe spoke, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Well, here goes nothing.” She slowly raised the hammer. For Martin, time warped, first grinding down almost to a stop, and then speeding up again so it appeared all the atoms in the air were whizzing past his face, leaving trails of blinding light in their wake.

  In the midst of his strange fugue, he heard his own voice saying, “Here, let me do it.”

>   Chloe stopped with the hammer still raised. “Your arm…”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ve done this before, let me open it back up. I don’t want any of you getting hurt.”

  “Martin…”

  He knew Chloe would argue, but he didn’t try to convince her. He simply held out his good hand, looking at her in the dimness of the hallway.

  Her mouth twisted a little, but in the end, she slapped the hammer into his palm. “You’re crazy,” she said, but it was a playful rebuke. “Be careful.”

  Martin could feel the eyes of the others burning into his back. His odd feeling of dislocation still hadn’t left him, and in its clutches he felt himself raising his arm and bringing the hammer down. The sound of the first blow shook the house, reminding him unpleasantly of the dreams in which Ivan now played an antagonistic role. Thinking of Ivan and the danger they might have unleashed finally reasserted his sense of reality.

  He plowed through the wood filler first, flinging away chunks of the hardened putty with the claw end of the hammer. Chloe and Olivia backed up a few steps, raising their hands to protect their eyes from flying debris.

  Once the old hole was opened up again, Martin made himself start hacking away the wood around it, trying not to look into the ever-widening gap he was making. He was sweating, and the skin beneath his cast was beginning to itch. The broken bones didn’t hurt much at the moment, but he could feel the throb that portended greater agony to come. He’d be hitting the painkillers hard once this was all over.

  The hole was about the size of a beach ball now, and still Martin kept his eyes averted from the blackness inside. The bigger the hole became, the less wise this entire project seemed. He told himself he hadn’t really wanted to open up the wall again, that the others convinced him. It was all very well for them; they hadn’t seen what was behind there, had they? He felt a sudden flush of anger and beat at the wall with quicker, fiercer blows. Chloe began to cough from the dust, and Martin’s rage immediately dissolved into a kind of torpid, hollow shame. This had been his idea as much as anyone’s. Besides, he had gone against the others’ wishes when he’d hammered at this wall before; he figured this was a fair enough payback.