Apocalypse For Realz

by Bella Street

  Rage shimmered like heat from her. “So there goes your chance to be a real daddy.”

  A muscle jumped in his jaw. “I know you'll never believe me when I say it's my greatest despair. I love you, Seffy. You're precious to me. And if I can get this right this time, maybe on some level, you'll forgive me.”

  She couldn't go down that road right now—not when forgiveness had been denied her as well. She asked the easier question. “How long do I have?”

  He eased out a silent breath. “How is the bruising?”

  “Worse.”

  “You've made it longer than should've been possible.”

  “That doesn't make sense.”

  “You're stronger than you think. You always have been.”

  She shook her head. “What's the point of living longer without Trent? I should've died with him that night.”

  Fenn licked his lips. “You need to close the time-tear. She doesn't know who you really are—”

  “I don't get it.”

  “I couldn't trust her to have your best interest at heart.”

  “Seems like you would've figured that out when she kidnapped and dumped me.”

  A muscle near his eye twitched. “I told you. She thought she was to locate a cousin.”

  Seffy raised her brows. “How do I know I'm actually not the cousin?”

  “Neither Fiona nor I have siblings.”

  “I still don't understand how this involves me.”

  “Regardless of who Verity thinks you are, with you here and her there, the temporal state is disrupted. With her gone, it closes. And linear time proceeds normally then and now.”

  “Didn't you make a bunch of so-called time-tears with all your back and forth travel?”

  “Yes, but it has more to do with the length of time someone is in the wrong place. I kept my visits very short. Verity has been gone for months.”

  “So I have to 'stop' her.” She made a face. “I go from being a survivor to a murderer?”

  “You don't have to kill her. You just need to make sure she doesn't stay there.”

  “And what's the grand plan for that?”

  “I'm sure you'll figure something out.”

  Seffy stared at him in bewilderment. Why the riddles? Was he baiting her? Or did he just not know what the hell he was talking about?

  “Like I said, stop Verity, and the variables—the ones we know of—have been contained, allowing for a more beneficial outcome for everyone.”

  Angst thickened her voice. “How can you be so arrogant as to think you can control anything?”

  “What has been evident in all this is that you and Trent will always find each other.”

  Despite the hope flaring at his words, she maintained her scorn. “Don't try to romanticize your own failures, Fenn.”

  He stood. “The atmosphere is unstable. The ground beneath our feet is heaving, There are two heart-beats of the same person in the same time. It's not sustainable. You need to go home.”

  “And watch my friends die? Be chased by blood-crazed killers? The way I did in the tangent?”

  “End this once and for all.”

  “But what's the point if Trent's already dead!”

  He lowered his voice. “Think about where you are, Seffy. Think about second chances.”

  Strangled hope made it hard to breathe. He'd held out a carrot too many times only to yank it away at the last moment. “You're nothing but a liar.”

  “No, I'm your father.”

  “Get out.”

  His expression became etched in granite. “I need to remind you not to breathe a word of this to Fiona.”

  Seffy sneered. “You think she doesn't already know about your plans? Your unwanted paternal impulses?”

  “I know she doesn't, or you wouldn't be here.”

  She took a step back as the meaning of his words struck her.

  “Be in the secret room tomorrow morning at nine, sharp. If you miss it, you might never have another chance to do this. In every possible way, the clock is running out.” With one last look, he turned and left the room.

  Seffy wished for something to throw at the door. Instead she settled for kicking it and letting out a frustrated scream.

  She braced her hands against the wood paneling, despising the way her mind raced with the implications of a second chance, while knowing that opportunity could evaporate.

  Just like that Fenn upended what was left of her crumbling world and walked away. Just like that he'd dumped everything at her feet—giving her a nearly insurmountable task with only the most nebulous of promises. And she was supposed to trust a word he said?

  It all boiled down to maybe.

  He was her Maybe Daddy.

  She snickered at the absurdity. God, she was losing it.

  Either way, maybe wasn't good enough. Not when everything hinged on her. She kicked the door again.

  A moment later, someone knocked. She tore it open, breathing hard.

  “Sef!” Gareth's eyes widened. “Are you okay?”

  Her twisted emotions became too much and she began to cry. She put her arms around his neck and hugged him hard. Despite her anger at him, how was he really any different than Fenn? Trent? Herself?

  We all try to manipulate our circumstances, we all want to control our futures. We all try because we can't help it.

  “Are you sure you're okay?” Gareth whispered against her hair.

  She shook her head and held him tighter. Her tears soon turned to sobs until she thought she'd never regain control. How had things come to this pass?

  How would Gareth react when he knew? Would he be okay? Relieved? Heart-broken?

  I'll never know. I'll never know if this succeeds or fails.

  “Do you want me to get Olga?”

  His words felt like a splash of cold water. No, I don't want medication. I want my friend's support. But she couldn't say the words. “I'm better now,” she said, pulling away from him, wiping away her tears.

  Gareth tipped up her face and stared into her eyes. This time she couldn't shutter her feelings. He had to see what swirled in her gaze.

  His brows knit together. “When's the last time Olga saw you? Is she keeping up with your...health?”

  Seffy pulled her chin from his hand. “Please don't.”

  An obstinate look crossed his face. “I need to go now, okay?”

  She began to cry again, feeling even more helpless than before.

  “Here, let me get you to your bed. You'll feel better if you lie down.”

  Seffy went with him, still sniffling and shaking. She curled up on Trent's bed, her gaze automatically seeking the photos.

  They just made the tears start up all over again, draining her of all hope, leaving a void where soul-deep grief took up residence.

  It was too late. She was already marked. Even if her body left, her heart would remain suspended at the point where she'd lost everything that mattered most.

  The sound of Gareth leaving and the door closing behind him were only an echo somewhere else in the world.

  ***

  That's it. I can't stand this any more.

  Gareth hurried to Lani's room and didn't bother knocking. She and Addison looked up from where they sat on the couch together, conferring. Lani caught her breath at his expression. “What's wrong?”

  “Can you go sit with Seffy. She's going to pieces.”

  The brunette jumped up.

  Addison rose more slowly to her feet. “Gareth, what's going on?”

  “She's falling apart, and I just don't want her to wander off like she did last time she was like this.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” Lani asked.

  “I need to talk to Olga...to make sure she knows about this change.”

  Addison frowned. “She's probably still sad about Trent. Grief isn't a switch you can just turn off.”

  “Addy, are you going to argue with me, or are you going to go sit with Seffy?”

  Her brows lowe
red even further. “Fine.”

  “Of course we will,” Lani said. “I just need to grab something first.”

  “Are you going to enlighten us further?” Addison said in a low voice as Lani began rummaging in her closet.

  “It's the same old problem that no one wants to address.”

  Addison made a face.

  Lani returned to her side, a garment of clothing in her hand. “Something of Seffy's got mixed in with our stuff. Might as well take it over now.”

  He stood to the side as they passed him out the door, watching until they went inside Seffy's room.

  Then he turned and headed toward Olga's residence.

  He braced himself for her pooh-poohing response and platitudes about Seffy just needing time.

  What did it take before a person got a little help around this place? There's a psychiatric ward, for crying out loud. Maybe it should actually be used once in a while.

  It took several minutes for the nurse to answer her door. And she seemed cooler than usual when she saw him.

  “Can I help you?”

  “You can help Seffy. No more talk, Olga. It's time for action.”

  Something flickered in her eyes as she motioned for him to enter. “What's happened now?” she asked in long-suffering tones.

  “Your treatment of Thorazine needs to be upped...or something. She's losing it.”

  The nursed crossed to the couch, pulling her robe more tightly around her well-upholstered frame. “Describe 'losing it.'”

  He took a breath, trying to calm his emotions. “I went to her door and she was kicking it and screaming. Then when she let me in, she started crying out of control and launched herself into my arms.”

  Olga didn't look convinced. “Did she say what was wrong?”

  “No. She never does. Maybe she doesn't even know how she's acting. But I can't bear to see her like this. Up her dose.”

  The nurse smoothed the folds of her robe. “She's, um, no longer on Thorazine.”

  His eyes widened. “What? How could you do that? Did you cut her off cold turkey?”

  “Have a seat, Gareth.”

  Her tone brooked no argument. He sat down in the wingback chair, fulminating at the nurse who refused to see sense.

  “Any treatment of psychiatric drugs is a delicate thing. And Thorazine is especially powerful. It was...deemed no longer necessary.”

  “Who decided that?”

  Olga's face was a blank mask. “Me.”

  He stood up. “Unfortunately it's obvious your emotions for her are coloring your treatment. She needs professional help and she'll get it. From a doctor. Not a nurse.”

  Her expression didn't change. “You're welcome to seek out other counsel, but you might want to ask yourself who's suffering more here.”

  He glared at her. “I don't have a clue what you're talking about. All that matters is getting Seffy the help she needs. And if you won't do it, I will.”

  ***

  “How are you doing, sweetie?”

  Seffy looked up as Lani and Addison walked into the room. She wiped the still-streaming tears from her eyes. “Having a bad day, I guess.”

  “Gareth thinks you're off your rocker.”

  She looked over at Addison, who joined her on the bed. “He might be right. Just when I think this place can't get any worse, it does.”

  Lani's brow furrowed, her hands behind her back. “Like what?”

  Seffy looked at her friend, who'd put up with everything she'd ever dished out over the years with barely a protest. But despite longing to unburden herself, she knew she couldn't.

  It was too much to bear—even for someone as open-minded as Lani. “I just can't stand it here. Had a little meltdown.”

  The girls exchanged looks.

  “What?” Seffy asked, suddenly noticing their suppressed behavior.

  Lani sighed. “This isn't my idea.”

  “I thought you'd want it,” Addison said, her voice unsure.

  “Want what?”

  Lani obviously held something behind her back. “Please take this the right way. We're not trying to upset you anymore than you already are.”

  “It's something of Trent's,” Addison said quickly.

  Seffy sat up straighter, her heart pounding hard. “I want it, whatever it is.”

  Lani sought Addison's approval. The redhead nodded. She brought out a white shirt and held it toward her.

  Seffy bit her lip. It was the shirt she'd worn the night...the night...

  She stared at it in disbelief.

  “It came in my laundry,” Lani said quietly. “I'm not sure why it wasn't...”

  “Disposed of,” Seffy finished. She reached out for the shirt, her fingers closing around the soft fabric.

  “She's worried because there are still...some stains,” Addison said.

  Seffy spread the shirt out across her lap. Her respiration became labored when she saw the rust-colored splotches spread out across the fabric.

  She remembered when Lani had peeled the shirt from her body. It had felt like flesh being pulled away. Must've been the dried blood adhering to her skin. A whimper escaped her.

  “Oh, Sef—”

  Her body beginning a new round of tremors, Seffy shook her head and clutched the fabric tight. “No, this is okay. Thank you.”

  But her bravery crumpled before a fresh tide of heartache. She pressed her face into the folds of the shirt and wept.

  It was some time before she became aware of the girls sitting on either side of her, patting her shoulders in silence. When she finally raised her head, her eyes were nearly swollen shut.

  “Oh, God, Sef. I didn't want you to feel bad.”

  When she could catch her breath, she spoke. “No, I'm glad, Lani. His blood,” she gulped oxygen, “his blood is precious to me. Thank you.”

  Addison's conflicted expression almost made her start crying again.

  “You know what else would help?” Lani's hands fluttered. “I mean it always seems to make you feel better. Let's go up to the Light Room. That will cheer you up.”

  Seffy bit back a retort and decided she'd rather be gone when Gareth invariably returned with some new plan to keep a lid on her outbursts.

  “That sounds nice,” Addison said, revealing a tinge of wistfulness.

  “Okay.” Seffy slid from the bed, swiped at the remainder of tears, and led the way out into the hall.

  Five minutes later, they were in the Light Room, bathed in a multicolored glow.

  “Now this is better,” Lani said, snuggling down into the cushions.

  Addison sat cross-legged looking down at the brunette as if she wished she could lie down too.

  Seffy pulled her knees up under her chin, her hands still wrapped around the shirt.

  “Did this room ever inspire you to sing?”

  Startled by the question, Seffy held her knees tighter. “What do you mean?”

  Lani bit her lip as if she regretted her words. “Fenn told us you sang to Trent when...”

  “Oh,” she said in a small voice.

  Addison sent Seffy an apologetic glance.

  Seffy looked down at her clasped hands, remembering the last time she'd sung to Trent—when he couldn't hear her. She steeled herself against a new onslaught of grief. “I sang to him a few times.”

  Lani sat up, her gaze avid. “That's so amazing, Sef. I mean, after all the years you refused. Especially considering your voice.”

  “Did he like it?” Addison asked, a strange vulnerability shining in her eyes.

  Memories of Trent's rapt expression surfaced in her mind, warming her heart a little. Seffy nodded.

  “Of course he did,” Lani said. “Seffy sings like an angel.”

  Except that last time. He didn't open his eyes then.

  Swallowing, she looked out the skylight. Violet tributaries of color darkened the pink as the sun set.

  “I miss your singing,” Lani said nervously. “I don't suppose you'd sing now for us?”
>
  “Lani,” Addison scolded. “You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Sef.”

  Seffy's pulse pounded out a solemn rhythm. The idea of a song might make her feel connected to Trent—even for the space of a few heartbeats.

  Closing her eyes, she licked her lips and drew in a breath.

  ***

  Gareth shoved open the double doors that led to the hall where Seffy had been held. If any place had what he was looking for, this area would be it. He reached around door jambs looking for light switches, but found none.

  Now that he was here, and in the dark, some of his adrenaline receded. God, what a gloomy place. He doubted it felt any different with the lights on.

  Gareth entered the first room and rummaged through the doors and cupboards by the light of the greenish exit sign.

  Nothing but the usual medical stuff.

  It was the same in each room until he got to the last one. Going by feel, far back in one of the drawers he found what he was looking for—a pointed spike and a rubber mallet. As his hands closed around the cool metal, he felt something else. Pulling it free, he angled it toward the light and realized it was a placard with detailed instructions on how to perform the procedure.

  Gareth shoved the instruments in his pocket and took the placard out into the hall where he could examine the details under the light of the exit sign.

  He cringed at the barbarity of the procedure—at the way the spike was shoved through the eye socket with a gruesome intent to sever.

  But then again, all medical procedures were ugly, bloody, and caused bruising.

  In the end they healed. The blood was wiped away, the bruises faded, and the patient was better.

  All that mattered what that she got better.

  ***

  Somewhere abandoned by all

  We found a place called Paradise

  When we opened our eyes

  We found it to be true

  This place called Paradise

  Your light makes the way,

  Your heart has beat for me before

  Here in Paradise

  Colored stars twinkle above

  But one shines brighter than all

  Forever we'll be together in the light