YES, Alric typed. He set the hand data screen down and searched for the supplies, drinking only enough water to wash down a ration pack and hydrate. The last thing he needed to worry about was his bladder.
He was curious about the archives and searched them out. They were organized by the letters of the alphabet. Randomly choosing one, he began to read.
He read a document of an experiment that made him shudder, a few that seemed to be simple observation reports. A person of interest report caught his eye.
‘Subject Mitri and wife, religious zealots. Son Jediel born in Algeria, 07/07/2015. Alleged prophecy spoken over son in hospital. ‘The Hand of Allah shall be upon you. He shall use you to do great things. May the Light of Allah shine through you to change the world.’’
This was intriguing. Why did Xis care about a baby with a supposed prophecy? Alric didn’t have a lot of knowledge about the culture of the Algerian people, but he knew many of them were of the Muslim religion. His understanding of their customs was minimal, but it didn’t seem like a stretch that a religious culture would speak such things over their children.
He chose to believe that as long as the one true God was in one’s heart, then the denomination made no difference. The words spoken over the child tugged at his own heart, made him feel a connection somehow to the boy. Well, not a boy any more. He’d be twenty-two. Just a few years younger than himself.
Alric had tried to let God use him to change the world with his formulas, in a small way, but he had given everything he had in the only way he knew how. He had no way of knowing if any of his actions would make a difference, but he hoped that they would.
He moved on to another file. ‘Source file DNA for David profile.’ What was the David profile? Alric had never heard of it.
‘Male, descendant ties proved false.’ That was the end of the report. An attachment contained a DNA profile but there was nothing else. Not a hint about what exactly they had been looking for or who exactly the subject had been.
Skipping to the letter ‘D’, Alric searched for a link labeled David. There were several, but all of them were experiments or observation reports. Every document with a specific subject had a blood sample analysis attached that he had found so far, but none of the Davids had a DNA attachment.
Alric regretted that he hadn’t examined his own DNA, or Eve’s, so he would have an idea if they had any genetic markers that might link them.
He skipped through experiment and observation reports, focusing instead on persons of interest. The purpose for each varied, though many of them seemed to be for religious reasons. Others were flagged for ties to terrorist groups or political affiliations. Some were listed for things as basic as intranet searches based on keywords, such as bombs, conspiracy, or weapons.
Alric focused in on a person of interest report that was starred. Thomas and Miriam Harmel, one daughter, Kara. Military funding to Swiss bank accounts. Artillery, black market, warfare research. DNA experimentation on daughter failed. Born mute. Subject invalid.
Intriguing, Alric thought. What kind of DNA experiment had they done and why had it rendered her mute and invalid? Had there been any successes? There was obviously a lot of things Xis was involved in that he knew nothing about.
He didn't have much time to contemplate it because the archives abruptly shut down and the word ‘GO’ took over the screen. Startled, Alric almost dropped the data screen as he scrambled to the panel. He had heard nothing. If they had searched the room, he had been unaware.
It was obvious as soon as he was free of the small space that they had. The desk was crooked, a chair tipped over, one data screen was flat and a thick piece of the broken plastic lay on the floor.
He paused at the closed door, glancing down at the handheld. ‘NOW’ filled the screen. He couldn’t hesitate. Pushing the release for the door, it slid open and Alric bolted into the hallway, glancing both ways. He saw no one.
The path into The Hellow’s was clear. The doors were clearly labeled and door six opened with a mere touch of his hand. Alric was not expecting the body on the bed or the blood soaking the floor. The mutilation was horrific.
An arm hung lax over the bed, with multiple fingers on the hand missing. Part of a leg was discarded in a metal bucket on the floor at the end of the bed. Pieces of hair floated in blood pools. Others lay in scattered clumps with pieces of scalp still attached.
Alric tried not to look, but everywhere his eyes moved was something else he didn’t want to see. Whole toenails on a tray. A flap of skin fallen over a rod of the metal bed frame. A partial finger deserted in a square on the linoleum floor.
Vomit rose up in his throat. Alric choked it down, coughing as it caught. Dizzy with the smell, with the gruesome display of this dark side of Xis, panic made the bile bitter.
He had to move. He couldn’t waste what little time he might have struck by the horror of it. He needed to get to the body chute and escape. Except Eron had been clear that he would have to hide beneath bodies. Would they be as grisly as this one?
Lifting the data screen, he stared at it, wanting another way. ‘BODY CHUTE NOW’ flashed and he wondered how long it had been trying to alert him, or if Eron was prompting him that there was no other way.
Alric felt like the air around him was hazy, tingling like a sleepy limb. He looked around for the body chute, the things in his sight seeming to lag behind the movement of his eyes, struggling to catch up. The body chute was right there, the wall around the square cutout stained dark red, dried trickles of lives clinging to the tile and flooring.
He couldn’t take the time to think about it. Forcing himself forward, Alric shoved the metal flap open and peered into the dark space. Pulling air deep into his lungs, he shoved the data screen into his pocket and grasped the edge of the chute, propelling his body forward with enough momentum that he wouldn’t be able to change his mind.
The scent of death was like a storm. One of destruction and terror. The bile he had managed to keep down hurtled out as his body slid over the slime of bodily fluids. Gagging, gasping for breath, Alric hit the cushion of bodies at the bottom. The snap of bones in rigor mortis caused a second surge of vomit to rise.
Trying not to breathe while he heaved and desperately muddling through the crumple of dead beneath him was impossible. The cement floor was a welcome jolt of pain as he tumbled free of the bin he had fallen into.
Shaking, sobbing, Alric pressed his face against the cold cement and prayed for death. He couldn’t climb back into those bodies. Couldn’t take the feel of hard or soft flesh, wracked in their various stages of death.
Curling tighter into the fetal position, the hard ridge of the screen in his pocket reminded him that Eron was waiting, maybe watching, trying to free him from the place of evil that was drenching his soul.
He fumbled for it and cried out when it fell free of his pocket and hit the ground with a crack. Tears blinded him as he slid it closer. Alric wiped his eyes to read the screen. ‘SMELL STRIPS.’
His arms felt useless as he pushed himself up, his knees quivering. He looked around. Cold dark cement surrounded him. One wall held two large garage-like doors. Bins on wheels were scattered around, all of them stained red. A tall metal cabinet was set against one wall and Alric moved toward that, struggling to remember where Eron had said to look.
The clock on the wall jumped out at him, set above the cabinet. 8:46. He was almost out of time. Adrenaline surged. Frantic, Alric pulled at drawers, unable to remember the correct one to look for. Various medical supplies, needles, poisons, cleaners. His mind registered the items and refocused on his task at hand.
Spying something that resembled bandages, he pulled them free, clinging to them when he read that they were what he was looking for. Shoving drawers back in place, Alric half ran, half stumbled back to the body bin.
He wouldn’t let himself look back at the clock.
The bodies welcomed him, shells of lost lives that sucked at his warmth, and he imagined he
could hear the pain of their tragic ends ringing in his ears.
Remembering the strips he gripped in his hand, he separated one and shoved the rest in his pocket. He tore the strip he held open and shakily smoothed it beneath his nose. Immediately, the cloying smell of death was diminished.
It was a small relief as Alric heard the clanking of chains as a pulley engaged. He was sure he would never forget shifting arms and legs to cover himself. The darkest of his visions couldn’t compete with the reality of flesh and blood and death touching him, wrapped around him.
Above him, through the stack of corpses that covered him, the mouth of the chute gaped at him, edges painted red. Alric was sure he would forever hate the color. Soft cotton from a shirt similar to his own rested against his cheek, its softness a sharp contrast to the press of the cold hardened skin of a corpse against his other.
The bin moved. Through the gap of bodies he had left so his face was not fully covered he noticed three of the bulbs that passed over him were burnt out. He could feel a slight shimmy of the wheels, one screeching in protest. He felt the bin as it angled up, then settled. Gray fabric lined the top of whatever the bin had been rolled into.
Two doors slammed shut, then another. An engine caught, the muffler belching before dulling into an idle rumble. Alric lay still, numbness flushing through his body. Like water rolling back out to sea, the weight of the darkness he had been trapped in ebbed and, despite the circumstance of the dilemma he still faced, light filtered back into his soul.
The heaviness of oppression in The Peep Hall had been far greater than he had ever realized.
Alric wanted to shove the bodies away and climb out of the bin. He guessed that he was in a van and was being taken somewhere. Whether the driver could see the bin or not was a question he couldn’t answer. Even taking the chance to free the data screen and see if Eron could offer any direction was a risk.
He had no choice but to give it some time. Eron had told him the smell strip would work for one hour. When the smell of death threatened to suffocate him again, he would make a decision on his next actions. Until then, he could only wait.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It didn’t take long. He felt a swerve in his stomach, heard the tires trying to grip pavement, then a quick stop rocked the collective bin of bodies before all was still.
Maybe it was too soon, Alric thought. The possibility that Xis had figured out his path of escape had him gripping an arm for support before he remembered the body had nothing to offer him.
If they had found him, there was nothing he could do. There was nothing he could use as a weapon and only one way to exit the vehicle. Lying prone within the pile of the cadavers was all he could do.
Light filtered in when one of the doors opened, shifting with the movement of a person as they climbed in.
“You in there, Alric?” a gruff voice questioned.
He didn’t recognize it, and couldn’t tell from the tone if it was friendly or menacing.
A face peered down. Alric held his breath, made sure he held himself still.
“Yo. I’m your knight in shining armor. Or whatever that would be for a dude.”
Not convinced those words were meant in a good or bad way, Alric remained as he was.
“Dude, don’t make me reach in there. It’s gross. Eron sent me. That help?”
Alric shoved at the arms and legs he’d flung over his form to hide. That was all he needed.
The man reached down to help him, grasping his arm and shoving at limbs with a grimace.
Free of the pile and the bin, Alric gained his footing, expelling a long breath. His knees were still shaky and he felt like death still clung to him. Beginning to try and brush it off, he shook his head with disgust, his hands out at his sides.
Blood and other matter he didn’t want to attempt to name clung to his clothing.
“Yeah, we’ll find you a shower stat, huh? I’m Lance. Let’s get moving.”
Lance offered him an arm as they climbed out, opened the back door to a black suburban and ushered him in, his head and eyes swinging over the landscape. “Hunker down, dude,” he directed as he rounded the vehicle and climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Do you know Eron personally?” Alric asked as he settled awkwardly on the floor.
“Nope. Pays good money to do odd things, so I follow the instructions, keep my mouth shut, and wait for the next job. No worries, bro, you’re safe with me.”
Alric hadn’t seen angel nor demon hovering around the man to give him an indication, but his gut was telling him he was in good hands. He trusted Eron, and really had no choice but to extend that to the man driving.
He was tired and the sound of the tires rolling over the road lulled him into sleep.
Lance woke him later, handing him a pair of jeans and a plaid shirt. “They won’t fit you, but I can’t take you anywhere wearing what you are. Throw those on, dude, and we’ll get you cleaned up.”
At a truck stop, Alric gratefully turned on the shower, making the water too hot. He was sure it would take many showers before he would finally feel clean again.
Lance had told him to take his time, compassion in his eyes, his mouth quirked in amused aversion as he’d looked him over while he said it.
Lifting his face into the water, Alric wondered how Eron had managed it all. He worried about what was next. He didn’t blink back tears as he thought about Makar, and Eve still locked in a cell.
An hour later, wearing clean clothes, he pulled a hat low over his eyes and settled across a table from Lance. Food was waiting.
“Is this where I’m on my own?” he asked, taking a bite of hamburger.
“Dude, really? Eron is a… completion guy, ya know? He’s got a whole plan for you. He feels like you’ll be safe out of the country. I have to agree, dude.” Lance mashed four fries into his mouth, and talked around them. “This isn’t the first time he’s had me do some dealings with Xis. Bad place. Evil. Never forget my first job linked to them. Saved a little girl.”
Alric set his burger down, immediately thinking of Eve. “You ever go inside? Could you do it again?” He could pay as soon as Eron told him how to access his money.
Lance shook his head. “Negative, dude. Someone brought the girl out to me. Wasn’t even one yet. I’ll never forget her eyes.” He gathered a few more fries in his hand. They dangled in the air, his eyes going blank. “Didn’t know it was possible for a child to be hopeless, but that was what I saw. Can’t imagine what they did to her now that I’ve seen what those people do.”
Scowling, fury firing in his dark eyes, Lance waved the fries in Alric’s direction. “They killed that man. The one who brought her to me? Cut him up into pieces. I got contacts in there. What you did… climbing in with dead bodies. That takes courage, dude. Don’t know what you did to find yourself in that place, but your fate woulda’ made you another lost soul eventually, I’m sure.”
“My soul is saved,” Alric responded vehemently. After what he had just gone through, and the circumstances that had needed to fall into place for him to be where he currently sat, his faith was cemented deeper.
Staring at him intently, Lance seemed about to say something. With a quick nod, he went back to talking around mouthfuls of food. “There’s a boat waiting for you. Be careful tossing your name around. We’ll get you a new ID, but you gotta’ understand once the plan gets you to a safe place, it’s on you.”
“God’s got it all planned out. He’s gotten me this far.”
Again, the hard stare.
“You believe in God, Lance?”
Dropping fries, Lance leaned back and crossed his arms. “Dude, you just climbed out of a bin of dead bodies, some of them in pieces. You were in hell.”
“Not sure how that relates to my question.” Alric narrowed his eyes, thinking for a second that light had just flickered in a quick wave behind Lance.
“I’m saying, where’s God in what is happening inside of that building? I don’t kno
w how you can speak of a higher being when you just had arms and legs and un-ident-i-fied bodily fluids all over you.” Lance ended with a shrug.
Alric pushed his plate aside and leaned forward, draping his arms on the table. “Who do you think was with every one of them while they died? Is with those still in those walls? Was with me today while you and Eron worked to help me find my freedom? What else explains how I am sitting here?”
Lance was listening, but Alric wasn’t sure if what he was saying was getting through. The body language he was seeing was closed off, stubborn.
Alric pushed back against the seat with a sigh, dropping his hands in his lap. He looked around the restaurant. It was slow. The waitress was making fresh coffee behind the counter. An older man read a newspaper in a back booth, part of a sandwich abandoned on a plate near his elbow.
“I’m just getting it, Lance. It’s a little overwhelming right now, all of it. There’s so much more than we can see, Lance.” Closing his eyes, Alric felt a peace about that one thing: that there was a God in control and he could trust that. That was what was real. Knowing the truth in your heart. He didn’t know how to communicate that to someone else.
He did know he was feeling it more and more. Like a whisper beneath your skin that you tried for so long to hear, and then one day words were there.
A beat sounded in his head, thickness pushing in. A vision of Afion standing in front of him clouded his vision. Afion raised a sword already dripping with shed blood. It swung toward him, too fast for him to jump back. He cried out, but felt no sting of pain. Confused, he looked down. The American flag lay at his feet, severed into two pieces.
Startled, he lifted his head to find Afion, but instead saw the Statue of Liberty exploding. The Washington monument crumbled, the faces of Mount Rushmore disintegrated into the mere stone that had made them.
Like an avalanche, destruction dominoed across American soil and left it stark and covered in ashes.
Another beat sounded. From the rubble, a hand appeared, scattering stone, rising up into the gray snow that fell. A familiar face appeared. Dark brown eyes met his. He had seen this man in a vision before, he had lined up with him as their wings had grown.
Seal One Page 11