Fallen, page 9
“I…what do you want?”
The stranger arched an eyebrow. “Something you have.”
“I don’t….” She didn’t have anything. None of them did.
“A Mr. William Winn Rice. Are you acquainted?”
“Yes. He’s my uncle.”
“Just so.”
The stranger had perfect manners, and perfect posture. He held himself, even just standing there, like a dancer. Age-wise, he looked to be about thirty. Although he took such good care of himself that, honestly, he could’ve been much older. He really was a stranger, too; Ani knew for a fact that she’d never seen him before. She would’ve remembered.
It was a long moment before he spoke again. He seemed, somehow, to be savoring the moment. When he did, though, Ani wished more than anything that he hadn’t. She couldn’t respond; she could barely process the words. She had to grip the table beside her to keep from falling over.
“Your uncle. He’s what—who—we want. Send him out to us, please. Send him out to us and, because I’m currently in a generous mood, I’ll see to it that the rest of you live. Otherwise, we’ll take him on our own terms and kill you all. The choice is yours.”
The whole time he’d spoken, he’d been smiling.
He was smiling still, waiting for a response.
As though he’d just asked her out for tea.
“I…my uncle’s not at home,” she managed, her throat dry.
The stranger shook his head. Like a teacher, saddened but not angered at a student’s lack of effort. “Oh, but he is. We’ve been surveilling the house for the past week.” He paused again. And then, “your bravery is commendable, but it will not be rewarded. We’re only an hour or so into the Purge, meaning that there is no help for you. You’ve trapped yourself behind these walls, isolated yourself…and now you must pay the price. But even outside of the Purge….” His tone changed, became solicitous. Intimate. And, somehow, even more terrifying. “A young, impressionable, ah…innocent girl, like yourself, is never safe. When we eventually come to take what’s ours….” He spread his hands. “I, myself, prefer willing women. But my friends do not.”
Ani gasped.
“I’ll give you ten minutes to consider our offer.”
The screen went dark.
Ani stumbled backward and fell onto the floor. Where she sat, staring off into space. She couldn’t quite force herself to accept that this was happening. That this was reality and not some nightmare.
Daniel was crying softly.
“William,” Grace said, “you need to go.”
“What? No!”
“You heard what the man said.”
“I heard him, alright. But I’d be a fool to believe him and so would you.”
“But—”
“But what?” William was pacing. Grace was standing, rooted in place, by the fireplace. “Do you really think that, once we open the door to these people, they’ll just smile and go on their way? You heard, you heard what that—that monster just said to Ani. And he has how many reinforcements? Would be rapists and worse, with who knows how many weapons?”
“It’s Ani I’m thinking of. And Daniel.”
“Then get ahold of yourself”
“They said they’d kill us!” Grace had started wringing her hands.
But if her uncle went outside, they’d definitely kill him.
William had stopped at the middle window, where he was staring at nothing.
Ani exchanged a worried look with Daniel.
“I always knew,” William said, after another long silence, “that you weren’t happy. That you, at least in the abstract sense, wanted me gone.” He turned, facing his wife. “A mishap at the train station, a runaway cart, the sort of unexpected and unavoidable death that can come to any man; I knew you wouldn’t mourn overmuch. But I never thought you’d go so far as to press the issue, yourself.”
Grace’s face had grown ashen.
“I’d happily sacrifice my own life to save our children’s. But that isn’t, regardless of what you think—or what they’ve told you—an option.”
What they’ve told you? Her aunt and uncle were having a conversation that Ani didn’t—couldn’t—understand. What, he thought she’d sent these men? But that—that didn’t make any sense!
“Don’t blame me,” Grace said coldly, “for something you’ve caused.”
“Caused how?”
“You must’ve—I don’t know, done something to someone. Embezzled from them.”
“Grace.” William sounded suddenly, unbearably tired. “You know that’s not true.”
“Well I didn’t—I didn’t….” Grace trailed off.
“What we’re going to do,” William said, in the calmest and kindest tone he could muster, “is take our chances. Together. As a family. This man’s ability to make threats, whoever he is, is limited only by his own imagination. But that’s all they are: threats. We’ve installed the system we have, Grace, precisely because Purge night isn’t famous for bringing out the best in our fellow citizens.”
He turned to first Ani, and then Daniel. His eyes were clear, his words measured as he tried to reassure them. Reassure them in a way that Grace hadn’t yet. Grace, who hadn’t so much as glanced at either of her children for all that she’d claimed to be so worried about them. “Trust me. This is frightening, I know. Beyond frightening. But everything is going to be fine.”
“So,” Daniel ventured, “they can’t…this house is impenetrable?”
“No house is impenetrable. But we’re going to trust: trust that our defense is stronger than their offense, and that God is with us on this night.”
“You said it was impenetrable!”
Everyone turned toward Grace.
She’d turned the color of a beet, and looked like she was about to pass out.
Ani tried to tell herself that it was the drugs.
“But I don’t want dad to die,” Daniel said quietly.
The discordant notes of the buzzer once again filled the room.
William answered, this time.
“Ah.” Ani heard the satisfaction in the stranger’s voice, even though she couldn’t see him. She still hadn’t moved from her spot on the floor. “If it isn’t the man of the hour, himself. Hello, William.”
“Hello.”
“Are you going to enchant us, out here, with your presence?”
But her uncle didn’t respond directly. Instead, he confronted a question with another question. “Who sent you?”
“Fate sent us.”
“Fate.” The noise William made next might’ve been a laugh.
“So, do we have your answer?”
“Yes. My answer is that you can take that gun in your waistband, push it up your ass, and fire.”
“Ah,” the stranger replied. He sounded…only superficially disappointed, and Ani wondered once again what kind of madmen they were dealing with. And what had brought them here. Surely—there had to be a reason. And not the reason her uncle had suggested and not the reason her aunt had.
“Unfortunate. Not entirely, however, unexpected. We’ll see you in a few minutes, then.”
William walked over to the fireplace, and stared into that.
“Dad,” Daniel said. “I’m scared.”
“I know.”
“What do we do now?”
“We wait.”
Ani found herself tracing the surface of the carpet with her fingers, tracing the lines and curves of each piece of furniture with her eyes. Anything not to think. Except…was this what her parents had gone through? She didn’t know much about the exact details of their deaths. Had they been this scared? Every time Daniel glanced at his father, at her father, she thought her heart would break.
William was the only father she’d ever known.
Grace was the only mother she’d ever known.
And…nothing either of them had suggested was possible.
It just wasn’t.
She heard a noise then, like the scurrying of the largest mouse in the world. An impossibly large mouse, the size of…. “They’re climbing the walls,” she whispered.
Daniel came over, and sat with her.
“What…?” Grace frowned at the windows, although willing herself to see through the barrier that covered them. “Why?” She swallowed. “And…how?”
There was a thud.
“Grappling hooks.”
Daniel glanced at his father, and then reached out and took Ani’s hand.
“Maybe, Ani,” William said, “you an Danny should go upstairs.”
No one had called Daniel Danny in a solid year.
Ani nodded. She and Daniel stood together. He hadn’t let go of her hand. Upstairs wasn’t safe, but neither was downstairs. One thing it was, though, was further away from their parents. If anyone did break into the house…. Ani left the thought unfinished. She knew what William was hoping, though: that if they really were after him, if the worst happened, that they’d take him and leave.
She led Daniel into the hall, to the staircase.
They climbed, past their parents’ bedroom, to the floor that was their own.
Ani sat down on her bed, because there was nothing else to do. How strange that she’d done this very same thing, only a few hours ago. Only now she was sitting here in the dark, the sound of her own blood pounding in her ears. Daniel sat down next to her. He drew his knees up to his chin, and wrapped his arms around them. It felt wrong, just…waiting. Even though they had no choice.
Maybe especially because they had no choice.
“Do you have a gun?”
“No. But dad does.”
“I wish I had a gun.”
Ani didn’t have the heart to tell her brother that no matter how many guns they had, there were only two of them. It wouldn’t matter. And the kind of firepower some people had…. There was purchasing a gun for home defense, and then there was stocking an arsenal. They’d none of them ever wanted an arsenal. They weren’t that kind of family. They were a boring, normal family with nothing that anyone could possibly want.
Daniel gestured. “They’re on the roof.”
They listened, together. Whoever they were, they were wearing boots. Ani thought she counted at least a dozen—men? Women? Men and women? She’d only seen a handful of people at the door. The rest must have been positioned out of range. And no one had thought to check the other feeds, from the other cameras. Then again…would it have made a difference?
Daniel leaned against her. He was trembling. She put her arm around his thin shoulders. Her free arm, that was. The one that wasn’t attached to the hand that was still holding his. His skin was clammy, and dry. He felt so small and frail to her, in a way he never had before.
“I’m going to keep you safe,” she said. “I promise.”
He pressed his face into her sweater, the sweater she’d worn to lunch and never taken off, and said nothing.
Someone called to someone else, on the roof, and someone laughed.
What happened next was confused.
There was a screeching sound, followed by a series of explosive pops, and light poured into her bedroom as the armor covering her window spun away into space. She blinked, not understanding at first what had happened. Was this—was it morning, somehow? But no, this wasn’t daylight but the orange-tinted glow of sodium-vapor lamps.
The voices of the intruders were much clearer now, now that there was nothing to block them.
Cold air poured in, too. The window itself had also been broken. Ani clutched at Daniel.
There was another series of rending, whining shrieks followed by more feet on the stairs. What sounded like an army of them. They were coming up. Up from the front door. One of those shrieks must’ve been the front door being pulled off its hinges. How? Ani glanced at the window, where a grappling hook still hung. They’d used the same grappling hooks that they’d used to climb the walls, to the roof, stripping the house’s steel as swiftly and efficiently as if it’d been paper.
They’d done this before.
There was shouting, as they reached the living room. Whoever they were. Ani could hear William’s voice, but nothing of his individual words. Then there was a scream—Grace’s scream—followed by a series of hollow pops that felt like wounds directly to Ani’s own heart.
“Dad!” Daniel screamed.
“No,” Ani insisted, trying to hold him, “we can’t. We have to stay here. We can’t—”
We can’t save him now.
But Daniel twisted free, and was gone.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Fire
Ani stood, rooted in place.
Oh my God, Daniel.
She’d never been so terrified in all her life. No, terrified wasn’t the right word, because there was no word. What she felt couldn’t be reduced to something that could be spoken. Or written. Or even understood, even in her own mind. And as part of that mind was thinking these things, part of it was screaming silently. This was what life for her ancestors had been like; and the part of her brain that was a heritage from those ancestors was telling her to run, to hide, to something.
She still didn’t have her full hearing back, after the initial blast. All she could hear was a high whine. She was having trouble standing upright, too; her room seemed to spin around her. She wanted nothing more than to obey her instincts and hide, but Daniel was missing. She had to find Daniel.
She took a step, and almost fell. Reaching out, she grabbed her bedpost. She took a deep breath. She could do this.
She stumbled into the hall, where she half expected to see more of the same armed commandos who’d attacked the house charging up the stairs. But the hall was deserted. Whatever had been done to the house had jarred some of the plaster from the ceiling free, and broken pieces were scattered across the carpet. A fine white dust lay over everything.
Grabbing the bannister, she forced herself down.
She stopped, at the landing, and looked around. She didn’t dare call out, for fear of attracting the wrong kind of attention, but she searched: under first the bed in her parents’ bedroom and then the bed in the guest bedroom, behind the changing screen, in one of the wardrobes. She kept thinking, with every new effort, that this time she’d find Daniel: behind the tub, or tucked into the corner of the linen closet in the hall. But the floor was deserted.
And, she realized, now that her hearing was coming back, strangely silent.
What—how could so much have happened, in just a few minutes?
Feeling more disoriented than ever, she braced herself for the hardest task of all: searching the living room.
She thought she’d be prepared for what she’d find. She’d heard—and felt—the rending of the house being pulled apart, the explosions. But the home where she’d grown up, her safe space since before she could remember, had been turned into a war zone. But no. Not a war zone. The war was over.
The aftermath of a battle.
A battle that had begun, and ended, in the space of a few minutes.
The front of the house, where the bank of windows used to be, was gone. Not just the windows, and the window seat, where she’d spent so many hours reading, but the entire—everything. Sections of stone, and reinforced concrete, jutted into the hole like broken teeth. The hole itself was like one great, grinning maw. Through it, she had a panoramic view of the city.
Almost the entire ceiling had come down. What furniture hadn’t been knocked over was broken. A chunk of stone sat where she’d sat earlier. From outside, she heard the shouts and whoops of strangers whose lives meant nothing to her. And who, in turn, neither knew nor cared that hers had been destroyed. She took a step forward, past the sideboard that had once served as a bar, alternately hoping and dreading that she’d discover some clue about where her family had gone.
Broken glass crunched underneath her foot.
She stopped.
The sound came again, but this time she wasn’t moving.
She whirled around, coming almost nose to nose with the man who’d been creeping up behind her. He was tall, with enormously broad shoulders. He had a coarse, slab featured look about him. He wasn’t wearing a suit, though; he was dressed all in black. He must have been one of the men who’d attacked the house directly. His eyes sparkled with—something.
Anticipation.
His lips curved in an evil, hungry smile.
“Who—who are you?” Ani stumbled backward. “What do you want?”
He licked his lips.
Ani felt something in the pit of her stomach twist. “Where’s my family?”
“Why should I care?”
“Please.” She hit the overturned couch, and was trapped. “Please just—leave me alone!”
His breath was warm, too warm, and smelled foul. He licked his lips again. “I saw you on the telly,” he said, as though she hadn’t spoken. “I wanted you. But I thought you’d gone.”
He grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Guess you didn’t.” The noise he made next was something like a low, satisfied chuckle. The same sound he might’ve made, after being served a really juicy looking steak. “Guess I’m in luck.”
“Please.” The word was barely a whisper.
He pressed himself to her. The hard edge of the couch dug painfully into her spine. She could feel his erection, pressing into her from the other side. He tried to kiss her, and she turned her head. His saliva was damp, and plentiful, on her cheek. She gagged. He didn’t care. He slid one of his hands down, over her breast. She pressed her eyes shut, willing this unbearable reality to disappear. He squeezed. Then he stopped. Then he was kneading her flesh like dough.
It hurt. It hurt. She moaned. But he didn’t care. If anything, her obvious disgust excited him all the more.
He found her nipple through the thin cloth of her shirt, pinched it, and twisted.
And at that moment, something inside her snapped.
He’d rape her, and then probably rape her again, and then grow bored of her and kill her. Because this was the Purge, and he could. But Ani was not going to let that happen. At least, not like this. Not cowering and trembling and praying for help that wouldn’t come, alone in her deserted ruin of a house. He was bigger, yes, and he was stronger, but she was alone in the world. At least right then. Which gave her a kind of strength. She was all she had, and she would not give up on herself. No matter what. And she would not give up any part of herself, not without a fight.
