Prometheus Mode, page 12
“See anyone?”
“People? None living. Plenty of the undead just standing around. It’s weird that they just let them hang out like that. I heard voices earlier downstairs. No, wait... There’s someone walking up the road. Okay, he’s alive. Coming toward the house. What the hell?”
“What?”
“He just walked right past an IU that was looking straight at him. Watching him, even. Just walked right past and the thing never even made a move for him.”
I try to push myself up, but Micah stops me. “Don’t bother. He’s gone, out of sight.”
“Sure you didn’t just see another IU? Or a CU?”
“Definitely not an IU. I suppose it could’ve been a CU. It was moving pretty smoothly. But why would there be a Player out here? Unless...” He pauses, frowning. “Who the hell are these people?”
I peel away the hair plastered on my face. “So much for getting washed up and changed,” I grumble. I flex my fingers, glad that they’re back to being fully functional. “And getting something to eat.”
“There are a couple basins of water over there. A pitcher, too. Can’t help you with the food.” He walks over to the dresser and picks something up, then he just stands there for a moment without speaking.
“What is it?”
He turns and holds up it for me to see. “You ever think you’d be so happy to see a damn toothbrush?”
“Only if there’s toothpaste, too.”
“There is.”
“Now that’s worth getting up for,” I pant. This time I manage to get to my feet and stay on them. “My mouth feels like I’ve been chewing on cow crap.”
He tosses me a bar of soap, saying, “You smell like you’ve been swimming in it.” The soap bounces off me and tumbles across the floor.
“Reaction time’s still screwed I see,” he notes.
“Fuck you.”
I can’t tell if I’m grinning. I think I might be. I still can’t feel my face.
The cool water feels good on my skin. It invigorates me, and in less than ten minutes all of the effects of the taser blast are gone, save the resentment of being shot. I’m unsure who exactly I should be directing my ire toward. The request to search our packs had certainly been an unwelcome and unpleasant surprise. But was it really all that unreasonable? I’d probably do the same if I were them. They could have warned us, though.
On the other hand, if Micah hadn’t reacted the way he did, none of this would’ve happened. He should’ve known better. In fact, it really surprises me. We don’t have anything to hide, not from these people. And even if we did, why would we intentionally antagonize them? We’re supposed to be here asking for their help.
After washing up, we change into some clean, ill-fitting clothing. The fabric is stiff, as if everything had been hand washed and line dried. But it all smells wonderfully fresh.
Micah keeps pacing across the floor, his shoes on the bare wooden floor as loud as a horse clopping. When I can’t stand it anymore, I tell him to sit down.
“How long are they going to make us wait?”
“It shouldn’t be long now,” I say. I have nothing to base this on but hope.
He gestures angrily at the door and mutters something about being treated like criminals. “Hey, assholes!” he shouts, pounding. “Let us out of here!”
“Micah! What are you doing? Do not piss these people off anymore, okay?”
He gives me an incredulous look. “They zapped us!”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have tested them.”
He sighs. “You’re right. I’m don’t know what came over me. I guess I’ve been a little on edge since we arrived at Jayne’s Hill. We all have, right? Guess we just need a good night’s sleep.”
“Or drugs. Are you feeling all right? That shock didn’t, like, kill the rest of your few remaining brain cells, did it?”
He scowls at me. “No.”
I glance out the window again and wince at the reminder of how quickly time is passing. The sun is low on the horizon, hovering just above the tree line, an orange ball shimmering in the heat. It’s too late to go back now, even if we could get the treatment right this minute.
I reach into the pocket of my jeans for my Link, thinking I’ll ping Kelly, but of course it’s not there. All of the other pockets are empty, too, and I realize with horror that they’ve taken the photos, despite Brother Walter saying I could keep them.
“What’s the matter?” Micah asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing. Just... I feel naked without my Link.”
He nods, then goes over to the other window and looks down into the yard. “They’re really starting to come out now. As soon as that sun goes down, the dead come out to play.”
I check for myself, and sure enough, there are several more IUs in sight. Even more figures materialize from out of the shadows. I shudder, not so much out of fear — we’re protected inside this house — but from the pure spookiness of it all. I don’t think I could ever get used to it.
“No CUs as far as I can see,” he notes. “Just the usual shamblers.”
He sighs and moves away. His face falls into shadow. I can sense his restlessness. It fills me, too. I don’t like this feeling of being caged in. And here we are, about to spend yet another night trapped inside a strange house in Long Island’s forbidden zone, while the infected undead roam free.
Olly olly oxen free.
Hoping our captors decide whether or not they want to help us.
The doubts really begin to settle in then. I think about the scar on Matthew’s shoulder. It’s undeniably a human bite, but he never actually confirmed that it was from one of the infected. Maybe they’re all crazy enough that they bit each other. Maybe they do some kind of ritual, reenacting the whole process of turning into one of them. Do they worship the undead, the ones they call the Elders? Is that why they resent the Deceivers so much?
What if there actually isn’t a treatment, and they’ve brought us here to join their little cult?
Micah squints at the box the matches come in. The room is quickly descending into darkness, and I know he’s considering whether we should light the candles. It would mean closing the shutters, and that would mean completely shutting ourselves off from the world. I’m not ready for that just yet, and I don’t think he is, either.
Even if that world is full of the undead.
“Goddamn it. What the hell are they waiting for?” he growls. He flicks a match across the box and it flares to life. He throws it across the room. It lands on the floor and goes out.
“What’re you trying to do, burn the place down?”
“They need to come now.” He flicks another match.
I shake my head, and tell him to knock it off. He prepares to flick another, but stops at the sound of approaching footsteps. He tosses the matchbox onto the table and we both hurry to the door.
There’s a knock and a warning: “Step back. Behave yourselves. We’re opening up.”
Behave? Micah mouths. I give him a warning shake of the head.
A key jangles, then slips into the lock and turns. The door opens. We stand back as the flickering light of a candle spills in. Brother Matthew stands in the hallway, his features accentuated by the glow.
Micah steps forward and starts to protest, but I put a hand on his chest and gently push him back.
“I hope we now understand one another,” Brother Matthew says.
“I just want to see Father Heall,” I say. “When can I see him?”
“He’s ready now.” He gestures to Micah and says, “But you first.”
“No. Wait!” I cry.
Another man steps forward and blocks me. “Just relax, sweetie.”
“I’m not your sweetie!”
“It’s okay, honey. No one’s going to hurt you.”
I’m so startled to realize the speaker isn’t a man that my next words get stuck in my throat. I gape at her, blinking stupidly. A person would be excused for thinking she was a man. She’s got a square, rugged face and muscular arms. “Let’s get you fed, shall we?” she says.
“What?”
“You can call me Sister Jane. Please, just calm down. I’m not going to hurt you. No one is, not anymore.”
She gestures, and two more men enter from the hallway. One of them steps forward and hands her a battered cardboard box, while the other ushers Micah out of the room. Brother Matthew accompanies him. He places his hand firmly on Micah’s arm and tells him to go. Micah looks longingly back at us, and I realize it’s the box he wants. An enticing aroma is rising from it.
They disappear down the hallway.
“I know you’re hungry,” Sister Jane says. “Come, let’s get you fed.”
“But I need to see Father Heall.”
“And you will, but he’s not ready for you just yet, sweetie. Don’t worry, I’ll stay with you until he is. And if you’ve got any questions that just can’t wait, I’ll try to answer them.”
“Try?”
“Well, you know some questions simply don’t have answers.” She places the box in my arms and shuts the door. “And some... Well, some questions aren’t for me to answer.”
Chapter 18
“Where are they taking Micah?”
Sister Jane goes over and shuts the blinds before lighting the candles. Then she sets a place for me at a small table and draws up the room’s only chair. “Please, eat.”
She lifts my filthy jeans off the floor by a belt loop and dumps them into the corner by the door. “We’ll get those washed for you, if you wish to keep them.” And then, as if she’s just noticing for the first time, shakes her head and clicks her tongue at the clothes I’ve chosen. “I’m sure we can find something a bit more suitable for you.”
I find this strangely amusing, coming from a woman dressed the way she is.
“Where are they taking my friend?” I ask again.
“To speak with Father Heall.”
“Why can’t he speak to us both of us at the same time?”
“He’s a cautious man.”
“So, he’s crosschecking our stories.”
“Yes, most likely.”
“That’s not being cautious, it’s paranoid.”
“You will understand better once you meet him.”
“And when will that be?”
“Soon enough.” She clucks to herself. “Just as soon as he’s finished with your friend.”
Finished? I don’t like the sound of that.
“What about my dog?”
“Oh, he’s fine. We’ve fed him and bathed him. He was covered in fleas.”
“You have medicine for that?”
“More than we know what to do with. If it’s still good, that is.” She shrugs. “Not many pets around here anymore. You should be ashamed for bringing him with you to this place.”
“I didn’t bring him here. He found me.”
“Really? Then he’s a very lucky dog that he did.”
“Why, do they get eaten?”
I’d always been told that the undead don’t eat animals, but after the cat in the parking lot of the sporting goods store on the other side of Gameland, I know that’s not strictly true.
“Well, most have gone feral,” she replies. “And then they’re no longer suitable for human companionship. You really should eat. Before it gets cold.”
My stomach grumbles, yet I resist. I have at least one more question to ask before I even take a bite: “What’d you put in it?”
She takes a slice of apple from the plate and pops it into her mouth and chews. “It’s perfectly safe, honey. There’s nothing in it.”
“I’m just not inclined to trust right now,” I grumble.
“That sounds paranoid,” she teases. She gives me a gentle smile. “Look, I know how you feel, honey. But you’re practically falling down on your feet. A little food will do you a heap of good.”
She gestures for me to sit down. I gaze at the food and can’t decide what I want to eat first— the apple or the spaghetti or the roll. It all looks equally delicious. I try the apple, since I know that’s safe.
“Will Father Heall help us?”
“Only he knows the answer to that. He’ll decide after he’s met with you both. He wants to know who you people are and why you’re here. And who you’re with.”
“Well, we’re not with Arc.”
“Yes, you seem to have convinced Brother Matthew of that.”
“Because it’s true.”
“We can’t be cautious enough when it comes to those people.”
“What exactly do you have against them?”
“Well, they don’t exactly want us here. I’ve been told it’s a little different with your situation.”
“We’re not here by choice.”
“No, I supposed none of us is. But they certainly wouldn’t be happy if they knew we were even considering helping you.”
I stuff a piece of the bread into my mouth and nearly faint with pleasure. It’s a day old and dry, and there’s no butter in sight, but after a couple weeks of processed, bottled, and canned food that’s passed their expiration dates by a decade, it still tastes like heaven. I shove a forkful of spaghetti in next.
“Pasta’s pre-outbreak,” she says, “but the sauce is fresh from the garden.”
“It’s delicious.”
She watches me carefully. My poor manners must finally convince her that I’m not an immediate threat, and she visibly relaxes. I think about how amusing it is that they’d leave her alone in here to guard me. I could probably take her out in an instant. But then she catches me glancing at the door, and she warns me that there’s nowhere to go and to not even try. Maybe she’s not such a pushover after all, not with those arms.
“Look,” I say, “we asked Brother Matthew to bring us here because we needed your help. Why would we want to hurt you? We don’t even know who you are.”
“Who we are,” she says, “is survivors.”
“Of the outbreak; yes, I know.”
“Of a government that didn’t just leave us behind, but locked us in here to fend for ourselves and then tried to exterminate us.” For a split second, I can hear the bitterness in her voice. She looks away and adds, “We don’t blame you kids, of course, but we’re naturally a little distrusting, especially with all the new people arriving lately.”
“New people?” It’s the first I’ve heard of the island becoming repopulated. Arc has long planned on doing it, but I didn’t know they’d actually gotten approval. “What new people? Or are you talking about Players— I mean Deceivers?”
“Not them. They’re bad enough, but they go straight into the arcade. No, I’m talking about the living. Sinners, we call them.” She laughs, covering her mouth, as if she suddenly realizes what she must sound like. “Sorry.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“It’s just been over the past few weeks. And it didn’t start off with a lot, just a few at a time. But the numbers keep getting bigger with each group. We keep watch over them, try to figure out what they’re doing and planning. Most of them enter the arcade and disperse. A few of them don’t.”
“Living people in Gameland? What do you think they’re doing?”
“Hunting.”
“Players? I mean, Deceivers?”
“No, each other.”
I choke on my water. “What?”
“Yes, and it’s an abomination.”
“I don’t believe it.”
She chuffs.
“Look, I...”
I pause. Barely a month ago I’d have given anything for a chance to play The Game. I’d had plans to work for them after graduation next year. Arc was supposed to be my future. But my feelings about Gameland have changed since then. How could they not? Now my eyes are open to what they really are.
And how they’ve been brainwashing us all.
“I agree with you about Arc,” I say. “Whatever they’re doing, it’s wrong. What they were trying to do to me and my friends is... I mean, it’s illegal and bad on so many levels. But we’ve got nothing to with any of that. We just want to leave.”
I’m surprised when she doesn’t ask me to provide specifics. All she does is urge me to finish my meal, because Father Heall will probably be finishing up with Micah soon.
“But I have so many questions,” I say. “You said you’d try to answer them if you can.”
She nods.
“Let’s start with the treatment then. Is it for real? Is there really a way to stop the infection from killing my friends and reanimating them?”
She winces, then stands up. For a moment I worry she’s going to leave, but she steps in front of me and pulls up the bottom of her shirt. She has no bra on underneath, and I catch a brief glimpse of her small, sagging breasts. But they’re not what she wants me to see. She turns and shows me her back, and in particular the scars running in wide ragged tracks down it. She reaches behind her and hikes her shirt up even higher. I gasp when I see it. At the very top is that same familiar mottled half-crescent. I reach up a shaky hand and run my fingertips over it. She doesn’t flinch. Only when I’m finished does she drop her shirt and settle back down on the bed.
“It’s a bite,” I say.
“One of several, actually. Most of the rest are buried beneath scar tissue. The Elder that got me tore half the flesh off my back. I nearly bled to death.”
“When did it happen?”
“Oh, a few years ago now, five or six.”
“So, the treatment is real? It can cure my friend?”
“Not cure. The treatment is merely a countermeasure,” she says. “And I warn you to be open-minded about it, because it’s rather... unorthodox.”
“How does it work?”
“It prevents me from turning.” She bends down until her face is just inches from mine. “I was infected. I still am. If I were to bite you, you would be, too.”
I lean back.
“I only tell you this so you know what to expect. If your friends survive, they will be like that, too.”
Chapter 19
I finish the meal, and it’s another twenty minutes before Micah returns. He’s now got his backpack with him and he looks no worse for the wear.
