Val sits with her mother for hours, and I never leave the spot a few feet behind her that whole time. She finally brings herself to pull away, still letting a torrent of tears roll down her cheeks, and I help her up, to which Tom and Paul are already prepared with a sheet to cover Mrs. Romero with. Val never looks back through her watery eyes as we return to the dorm.
With how long we had been sitting there, Claireese seems to be a lot more sober by the time we meet her in the doorway once again. She doesn't speak, however, just steps aside for us to pass with teary eyes. Tom stops me before we cross through.
"Don't you kids worry about anything out here for now," He tells me, sympathetically peering past to Val as she moves for the bed. "We'll get everything sorted while you rest."
I strongly feel like there's more I could be doing to help, especially with the predicament that us and a bunch of strangers now find ourselves in, but having just now added a couple more hours of wakefulness to my count, my brain is operating at its absolute lowest capacity. I nod in agreement with Tom with a weak smile before shutting the door.
Claireese waits behind me when I turn around, still in absolute shock from everything that's transpired in the last few hours. I tentatively reach out a hand to lie on her arm. She allows the touch, and I caress my fingers over the fabric of the hoodie before we both turn to Val. She sits on the side of the bed staring down at the floor, tears now silent staining the carpet. I cross over and take a seat next to her, to which she clenches her fists and shakes her head.
"I'm going to kill, him, Wes." Val declares through gritted teeth, "I'm going to kill that stupid fucker that put that shit inside her..."
I can't find anything to say to that. No words of encouragement. No arguments to make. I'm upset myself that I let Mason get away; I can only imagine how Val feels. I hope she's not upset with me-
'Stop it, Wes.'
Right. No more of that.
Instead of trying to reassure her with a gesture I know will fall short, I slip my hand into hers, just to let her know I'm here. She sniffles and squeezes it tight, almost composing herself, but then, all at once, she becomes unglued again, cracking into a shattered mess of sobs.
"W-Was that the right thing for me to do, Wes?" she pleads to me with teary eyes, "Was there something else we could have done?"
I'm not sure I have an answer. The sight of Val shooting her mom through the side of the skull was a difficult one to see, and I definitely wish it hadn't happened that way. Still, what other option did she have? Right out the gate, Mrs. Romero's new perception of us was a terrible one, and with the sundance making her unpredictable, we had no idea how she would react to anything else that happened, even if we calmed her down in that moment. She even drew a knife on her own daughter... in all of my research and browsing of archives back at the barracks computer, I hadn't found one case of someone who had eaten sundance being integrated back into a normal populous. They couldn't be; I knew that first hand that once the petal has a grip on your mind, you don't think the same as normal people. It's all that you want. It's all that matters. Anything getting in your way is just a threat...
"No." I tell her, sternly, but lovingly, "Valentine, do not start doing that to yourself." Her eyes try to dart away from me, but I use a hand to guide her face back, "Look at me. That wasn't your mom anymore, Val. Maybe parts of her, but take it from me, once that petal is inside you, you're a different person. Even if we would have found some way to subdue her, whenever we get out of here and back to safety, you know that the city would have..." I hesitate before finishing the sentence and pick a lighter phrasing, "They wouldn't have let her stay."
Val nods, but I can see she isn't ready to accept it yet. I know she won't be for a while, but the best I can hope for is that when she is, she'll remember what I said. It's hard to believe the words of reassurance that people give when you blame yourself for what happened.
With pursed lips, I slide my hand further up her cheek to brush a tear away. Claireese takes a seat on the opposite side of the bed, then reaches over and begins to gently run her nails over Val's back. Our friend grieves like that for a while longer before collapsing straight back against the sheets. She closes her eyes tight, then takes Claireese's hand, and I lay next to her just brushing her hair softly, unsure of what else to do. Nothing is going to take her pain away now...
I couldn't tell you when, but sleep eventually overtakes us and everything after becomes a blur. Despite being sleep deprived, my brain is on edge and drifts in and out of sleep at every small noise in the hall. Eventually, they stop altogether as the people outside finish conducting their business and move to another part of the facility. After that, sleep comes easy.
At one point I black out, then wake up to find that all three of us have shifted positions. I lay in the middle while Val has moved to cuddle at my side in her usual position. I can feel the wetness of my shirt where her head lays, and I wonder if she's even really sleeping or not. To my surprise, I feel another body on my other half. Claireese has pressed herself against me, laying on her side so that her forehead is up against my shoulder. Her breath is steady, rhythmically warming the fabric with each deep exhale, and I'm surprised to find her so close. Her arm that she lies on top of reaches out slightly, fingers lightly gripping my sleeve, even in sleep. Her other hand lays across my chest where it has met up with Val's, lazily resting on top of it, fingers laced into her palm.
There, sandwiched between my two friends, I feel at truly ease for the first time in days. Maybe even years... If I died tomorrow, everything would have been worth it just to get here. Just to lie with my two favorite people one last time.
My muscles melt like butter into the bed. I feel heavy and lethargic, sleep still clinging to my eyes, and with the gentle, rhythmic breathing of the ladies beside me singing the sweetest lullaby I've ever heard, I let it take me down.
In and out, I drift several more times, returning to sleep when I find that I'm still locked in place. The last few times I even can tell that we've been lounging for too long and that I need to get up, but the comfort I feel combined with not wanting to disturb the girls next to me tells me that just a few more minutes couldn't hurt. Besides, even if I got up, I wouldn't leave Val, so for now, just lazing in the room is fine by me.
Eventually, I jolt awake to find that I've changed positions, Laying on my side and caressing Val from behind. I don't feel Claireese nearby anymore, and when I lift my head to look around, I see a tray of scarcely touched food on the nightstand next to me. Somebody must have stopped by with meals, and judging from the meager nibbles take from the plate, this one must be Valentines. Looking at the food, I realize how hungry I've become in my time comatose and decide that it might be a good idea to eat something myself. Especially since I vomited up the only thing in my stomach the night prior.
I smoothly slip my arm out from Val, then sit up and scoot to the edge of the bed. Looking around the room, I see Claireese sitting over in the living room area, holding something in her arms that the couch obscures. She's wearing earbuds, so I don't bother to call out, and instead start toward her with a gentle stride.
As I round the couch, I see that the object she has wrapped in her arms is a guitar. A very nice one at that; electronic. She strums the pressure pads with her thumb and dances her other hand around the neck of the instrument, creating noise that only she can hear through the headphones. I can't help but smile at seeing her back to her usual self. She starts slightly upon seeing me round the sofa into the space with her and manages a small smirk before taking out a bud and setting on the coffee table.
"Good morning," she whispers.
"Hey," I smile back before raising a brow, "Morning? Was I really only asleep for a few hours? It felt like a lot longer."
She chuckles, "Morning two, Neyome. You slept through all of yesterday pretty much."
That startles me a bit, "W-What?"
"Don't worry, Dr. Kaphila came to check on you. Said the sundance you ate must have taken a toll on your system, but all your vitals were fine."
I nod, but her words don't set my heart at ease. I'm more concerned that I just missed an entire day's worth of time. A lot can happen then.
"Did... you really eat it?" Claireese asks cautiously, "The flower?"
I sigh, nod, then take a seat next to her.
"Damn, Wes..." she gasps, letting her guitar slouch a bit, "That must have been a hell of a first time on sundance, huh?"
I look up from my shame to her subtly smiling lips and feel an immense sense of relief. I missed Claire so much. I missed how easygoing she is. How much she made time slow down and feel like we had some left to spare. It was funny how many times I'd fear she'd judge me for something, only for her to not make it a big deal.
"The worst 'best trip' of my life," I snicker. She laughs too, and after it falls to silence, I ask, "How are you feeling?"
"Fine." she answers curtly, "I mean better, Y'know... Then I was. I'm um... I'm sorry you had to see me like that."
"Claire, hey, no. Do not apologize. I'm just so glad you're safe."
I leave it at that, and Claireese seems to appreciate it. "I'm glad you're safe too." She says, reaching out to playfully flick my arm.
"Thanks," I chuckle, then look over my shoulder to the bed where Val is still resting just as I left her. "How's Val holding up?"
"Not well. She's mainly just stayed with you the last few days. She doesn't talk much or eat. Now and then she'll break down crying again..."
"Damn..."
"I know. I can't imagine having to do what she did."
The two of us go somber and quiet, staring at our friend cradling herself and wanting desperately to take the pain from her.
Claireese, trying not to let us live in gloom from the other night's events, clears her throat, "Um, Myra brought some food for all of us. You weren't awake enough to eat when we tried to give it to you, so it's in the fridge. If you want to heat it up, I'll catch you up on what you missed."
Eager to take her up on the prospect, I waste no time in popping the tray of food left for me into the microwave and bringing it back to the couch, where I scarf it down like a feral dog.
Claire begins to fill me in.
The first thing that Eight and Thirteen did upon freeing everyone was contact the city through the facility computers. This wasn't hard, as they already knew the exact channels to tune in to and the right people to get in touch with. The hard part was convincing them we were truly the survivors and not Mason's men. The city remained oblivious to the fact that Mason's crew was responsible for the compound attacks, leading them to believe that there were no survivors. On top of that, the story of how we took down so many people was too far-fetched for them as well. Based on how many people were reported by Val and I after our first escape, they didn't think that even their own units would have had as 'easy' a time taking them out. Eight apparently even embellished the story, adding more people on my side of the fight to make it sound more plausible, but even that didn't seem enough for them. Eventually, however, with enough effort and with enough video feeds sent of the compound and the survivors, the City realized we weren't lying to them.
The moment the city was on board, Eight and Thirteen told them about the infiltrators, giving them a tip off that people with severe stutters and overly positive attitudes were most likely infected. Finding and arresting all individuals who fit those descriptions and occupied higher ranks was straightforward from that point. From there, it was a matter of interrogation, or sometimes, just looking into the people's histories. If there was a point that the person went missing, or if they were the only soldier from a unit to return from a trip beyond the wall, chances were that they were taken at some point, infected, brainwashed, then returned to the city. Claire said that they didn't say what was happening to the infected, but knowing how ruthless the city can be, it's an easy guess. I just hoped they were thoroughly screening the people taken to ensure they were truly part of the cult...
Then there was the issue of Mason. Thirteen checked the security footage of him leaving to find that the man didn't flee how I thought he would.
On the tape, he bolted out onto the train platform, looking around frantically as if trying to decide what to do. Finally, he seemed to get an idea, then walked over to the terminal and shot the control panel beyond repair. After that, he went to the surface elevator door and disappeared. That meant he either went to the surface to escape on foot, or he was still lingering up there in the space above us. Eight speculates that the latter is the case, as there's no evidence of him being captured on any surrounding cameras in the area, and regrettably, there are no cameras directly above the location indicated on the GPS where we're located. Right below the Portland Rose Quarter Stadium.
That tidbit doesn't sit right with me, as there would almost certainly be cameras within such a building. All the ones that are listed on the log say 'offline' according to Thirteen, and he can't get them to work no matter what he does.
With Mason's last remaining people detained, and with us now armed and ready, I feel pretty good about our prospects if he tries anything. Still, I'm not going to be overconfident. The man is calculating; he had to be to build an empire this big, and I have no doubts that he's planning something as I sit here listening to Claireese.
As for inside the complex, things have finally settled down after that first night. It took a lot of work to get everybody free and gathered in one place where a plan could be sorted. I hadn't helped with that by plastering guts and blood across every inch of the place. Fortunately, there was an incinerator that the place used to dispose of garbage, so groups were made to gather up the bodies and shuttle them to the chute where they were haphazardly tossed down like a used paper cup. I didn't envy whoever was a part of that crew at all...
Once the area was safe, the people from the petal chambers were taken to the residential wing where they were sought after by Dr. Kaphila and another medical officer who had survived their compound's invasion. Everyone else congregated in the cafeteria, the only space large enough for the group, but they made sure to keep everyone far from the menacing pool that continued to swirl in the background. With the tram in ruins, there was no convenient way to depart until we devised a better plan, which meant we would have to make do with our current resources.
Eight gave the address of what the situation was, what they planned to do about it, and then assigned different jobs to different people while we all waited for word on when the city could come to save us. She and thirteen were the only surviving guards from any compound, which made them the de facto leaders, and since Eight was next in command to Renee back at our compound...
That made her the new captain.
This was something that she didn't seem fond of, according to Claireese. At least, that's what Myra told her when she came to bring us food. That's what her job was; kitchen duty, and ration control. We had plenty of food down here; enough to feed the old populous that inhabited this place, which was a lot more than our current numbers. But we also didn't know when we would be rescued, so it was important that we be careful with how much we expend.
Tom, Paul, and my dad, all being ex-military, were assigned to security with a few other people. I guess I hadn't done my job quite as well as I thought I had, because when doing a second sweep of the building, they found a couple of survivors hiding under beds and in bathrooms behind locked doors. Not needing any more bloodshed on our hands, the meager few are being held prisoner in the petal chambers under close watch. Disgustingly, it was the most suitable wing to hold them due to its... nature.
The security team also had a few more sundance creatures to take care of after the ones hugging faces were disposed of. They revealed themselves from the bushels of sundance lining the walls, but with so many people on the attack now, the pathetic blankets didn't stand a chance. Supposedly, there was a small flamethrower found in the armory that I hadn't noticed, as well as some handheld blowtorches. Since the last of the beasts were wiped out, there haven't been any more attacks. We'll see if that stays true.
Nobody made Claire, Val, or me do anything. The other petal chamber victims, either. Most people knew that they had gotten the worst of this place, and if anyone should finally be free to just relax, it should be them. Val was exempt for obvious reasons... As for me, I was comatose, so I couldn't do much, but even so, I was told that upon waking I was to continue to rest. According to Eight, I had already done more than my share of the work, and if it weren't for me, we wouldn't even be alive right now. I don't agree with not helping; it doesn't feel right just sitting around when there's so much to do, and so much of it is things I could be of great assistance to. Still, I promised I wouldn't leave Val, and to be honest, I really did need a breather. A waking, non-comatose one.
Claire finishes telling me all of this, and I just stare in shock.
"Jeeze, a lot happened while I was out..."
"We're trying to get out of here ASAP."
"Has the city said when, yet?"
Claire purses her lips, "No, not yet. Thirteen said that according to the city, they can't send a convoy here to shuttle people to safety. I guess none of the units they've sent to this area have ever come back."
"Well, yeah, that's probably because of Mason's men. They're all gone now, though."
"I have no clue," Claire shrugs, "He said they told him it's declared a 'dead zone'."
An alarm goes off in my gut. Dead zones are reserved only for the most dangerous spaces of territory. They carried on the torch in name after the California Dead Zone when the world fell apart, but I had no idea there was even one near us, let alone the city. The zones were typically vast expanses, but that was impossible in the confined space of the metro. A normal dead zone would be the size of the metro or bigger. It must just be our immediate location on the surface. What was so small up there that it could fit in a single city district, but strong enough to scare the government so badly? How many more secrets were the people who were supposed to protect us keeping?
I decide to get more info from Eight or Thirteen next time I saw one of them, but for now, I set my finished tray of food on the table, then stare at Claireese. Even though we all just spent so long sleeping, she looks tired, and I can still see the lingering fear behind her eyes from the situation we're all in. All of this talk hammering home that fact probably isn't helping, so I try to ease into something else.
"I feel like you still haven't told me the most important part of this story."
"What's that?" she questions.
I point to the instrument in her hands, "Where'd you get the guitar?"
Claireese lets out a soft snicker, "Paul brought it by; said he found it while sweeping the rooms. Thought it might keep me entertained. Ease the nerves a bit." She runs a thumb over the pad, hearing its strum through her headphone and smiling fondly, "Back at the neighborhood, if I was playing in my bedroom while Paul was in his, he could hear me play from all the way next door."
"How's this one compare to your old guitar?"
"Ha. Not even close. It's nice-like, really nice, but I've always preferred a classic acoustic guitar. Still, I'm not gonna complain-a guitar is a guitar, and I'm glad he found it. I think I've finally got the feel for it too; I was playing full songs when you came over."
"Oh, good, then you can finally play a song you've promised me three separate times now."
Realizing she just walked right into my trap, Claireese closes her eyes, smiles, and throws her head back against the couch.
"Damn it..."
I have a little leniency on her, knowing she's still raw from the past night's events despite her tough face, "I'm just kidding around. You don't have to if you don't want. I do want to hear what that thing sounds like, though."
Claire leans forward, plucks the other headphone from the table, then hands it to me. I place it in my ear, and once I'm ready, she smiles at me and strums the faux instrument. The perfect sound of a guitar rings into my head, only discernable from the real deal by how overly crisp its sound is.
"Whoa..." I tell her, wide eyed and nodding, "That's pretty insane."
Claire chuckles at my wonderment, like she's watching a little kid that just saw a magic trick. I laugh with her at how dumb I probably seem, getting impressed over something so small, but as I do, her glee seems to fade and replace itself with an intense stare. She holds it on me for a few moments, as if contemplating.
"I-Is something wrong?" I ask her.
The girl doesn't respond. She just pulls her gaze down to the instrument, licks her lips, then, after hesitating, begins to play.
The melody is melancholy, but immediately addictive. I'm hooked the moment her fingers begin dancing over the pads, masterfully weaving together a tune that sends shivers through my skin. I listen, transfixed, and watch the pure fervor on her face as she slips into her flow state. I fully expected Claireese to be good when I requested to hear her play, but I certainly didn't expect her to be this good. For somebody who plays as a hobby, the girl could easily stand toe to toe with a lot of famed musicians. All of that is just the tune, though. The shivers in my skin turn to full on chills when she parts her lips and begins to softly sing.
"Streetlights in the rain
Cigarettes in the park
Help me see through this unending dark
It tangles my brain
With roses and thorns
When you'd come around
Looking for me
I had no clue
Just how safe I could be
But I had my doors
Locked up and tight
But you unlocked those doors
And you shattered the key
Oh, that beautiful boy
Lost in Lucidity
How you dream while awake
And awaken in sleep
I can see in your eyes
Quiet secrets you keep."
Her voice is angelic. It's not what I expected from Claireese's lower, apathetic tone that she usually talks in. Her singing voice is full of passion and dripping with emotion, as if everything she holds in from day to day is spilling out at once in a beautiful symphony of sound. She finishes her lyrics and falls back into just playing the song's melody, but then she strums her last few strings at a gentle pace before laying the guitar to rest. The silence feels awkward in the face of what I just heard, and I sit there speechless, my lips parted slightly. I stare intensely at Claire's face while she shamefully tries to avoid my gaze.
"Claire, that was..." I start, "Holy shit, you're talented."
She nervously snickers, then brushes her bangs away, which had fallen from their new style the night before, "I um... thanks. I haven't played for anyone in a really long time. Trent was the only person I felt comfortable singing around..." The words come out, and she almost seems to realize how vulnerable she's made herself, as she tries to change the tone, "So, y-you should feel extra lucky that I like you enough, heh. I guess I owe you, though, saving my life and all..."
I'm not letting her get away that easy, "That song; where is that from?"
Even in the dim orange glow of the flowers lighting the room, I see Claire's face redden. She ever so slightly taps the guitar pads, shamefully plucking chords into my ear.
"Did... you write that?"
The girl sighs deeply and gives her hair a run through again, hugging the guitar close to herself and angling her legs toward one another, "...When you left last time-well, the time before last time-when I thought you, um... When I thought you were dead?"
Its my turn to fold into myself.
"I didn't do much for a few days. Thought of you a lot in that time... One day I picked up my guitar again and just started playing. That song just sorta'... came out."
My head instinctively buries itself into my hands for escape, "Claireese, I... I am so, so, sorry that I did that to you."
"It's alright," she sadly hums, "I was mad at first, but I get why you did it. It doesn't make me feel any better about what happened, but I understand."
"I just got so caught up in trying to help with all of these things, and I was so used to not having anyone other than Val, that when I had you again, I just... I forgot what it was like to have to worry about another person you love."
Claire's head lifts to face me at that last sentence, but quickly sinks down again, "When they came for the compound and you weren't there, had you... left again?"
The sore spot in my stomach from already suffering this wound is hit again as her vibrant eyes pierce through me. I want to tell her what she wants to hear, but I also can't bring myself to lie.
"Yeah... Yeah, I had."
She shakes her head but doesn't look angry. At least, not yet. "Why?"
"I... really don't know." I sigh, leaning back, "It seemed reasonable when I did it, but now it just feels dumb looking back. Val and I were fighting, and I thought everyone else was mad at me. Then you said you didn't want to see me anymore-which I'm not saying that it's your fault at all, but I just... I don't know. I guess I felt like I had nothing left, and with the transfer coming soon, I wanted to avoid the inevitable goodbyes."
Claire surprises me by giving the slightest chuckle before shaking her head at me, "I never said I didn't want to see you again, Wesly. I said that I needed time."
"I-Isn't that basically the same thing?"
"No, you big dummy," she cackles, slapping a hand to my cheek and giving my face a slight shove. Once I recoil, I place a hand to the spot hers just was and fondly stare back at her.
"It means I just needed some time. Gosh, you really overthink things a lot, you know that?"
"I've been told." I snicker, "I'm sorry."
"You say sorry too much, too." She scowls.
"The last time somebody said that to me, they ended up never talking to me again. After that, I just kind of assumed that was the polite way of saying, 'I hate you and don't ever want to see your face again'."
Claireese furrows her brow, "Who was that?"
"Lindsey Pines."
Claire's expression immediately changes, her eyes wincing, and teeth exposed, "Ugh, that bitch? I still can't believe you ever dated her. You're telling me she's the one who said that to you and you took it to heart?" Claire sees me not wanting to revisit the rubble that is my love life and relents with a sigh. Instead, she leans her guitar against the arm of the couch, and stares forward.
"You know what's funny?"
"What's that?"
"The reason I always called you kid was because all these years I always saw you as this shy boy who never really grew up. I guess when I saw you and Val hanging again, I was just... jealous? I wanted to see you as immature for still hanging around and playing at the park like children because I was upset that I wasn't there with you." Claireese pulls her legs onto the couch and hugs them, resting her chin on her knees, "But then I got to know you again, and I learned these things that I never knew about you... And all this time, you and Val were going outside that wall to fight monsters while I was just sitting around getting high and playing guitar. I was the one who never grew up. I was like a stupid, edgy teen that just wanted to be bitter and mope around all day. You guys were going out to help save lives for no reason other than it was right."
"Claire..." I softly whisper. Once she angles her head to look at me, I make sure she sees my hand move toward her. She doesn't wince when I place my fingers to her back and trace circles with my nails. She even lets her eyelids flutter a bit.
"I wasn't just scared to talk to you again because of our past. I was also scared because I did see you as mature. My whole life has been wallowing in the past and wishing I was still there with you two. I was worried you saw that and thought I was immature for it. I may go over that wall, but I assure you, am just as much of a scared little kid as anyone else. There's no shame in how you've handled all of this. I mean, who the hell knows how we're supposed to?"
Claireese eyes me, her mouth hidden behind her arms. She lets out a small huff of amusement through her nose, then sits up, scooting closer. With my arm still behind her, it makes it easy for her to slip into my embrace. My heart beats a little faster than normal, not used to holding Claire like this as she sinks her wight against me. I don't want her to feel like she needs to do the gesture for me to know she cares, but then I recall what she said the last time she hugged me, as well as something else.
"Do you... really feel safe around me?"
"Huh?"
"Your song... you said you felt safe when I'm around..."
Claireese doesn't respond right away. She leaves a long breath of silence before barely audibly whispering, "Yeah... I do."
My eyes well up for a reason I'm not quite sure of. Maybe it's just relief that Claireese doesn't hate me. Maybe it's the fact that I'm relieved she's safe. Maybe part of it is because I forgot what it feels like to hear somebody say that they care about me, and actually believe them for a change. Whatever it is, I blink the water back into my eyes and tense my arms, holding the girl that rests there tighter.
"Hey Wes?"
"Yeah?"
"If you ever bring up that song again, I will kill you."
I snicker, "Ah, Claire, there you are. I was wondering where you'd went."
She pulls away from me and smacks my arm with a laugh, "Asshole."
With a content smirk, I lean back against the couch, "Play some more for me."
"Hell no. That was a one-time thing."
"Oh, come on! You don't even have to sing; I just liked hearing the guitar."
"Seriously?"
"you did say you owed me."
Claireese rolls her eyes and picks back up the guitar. She begins to tenderly strum, playing some tunes that I know, and others that I've never heard before. I wonder how many of them she's made herself. The two of us sit like that for a while, enjoying each other's presence and getting lost in the moment. I wish it could last forever... For the smallest fleeting second, I feel hope. Hope that this could be our life again. That all of us could find a way out of here and be taken somewhere new to safety. That we won't have to fight anymore, and we could all be content and happy with one another. The dream grows louder and more impossible the longer I linger on it, and then, in an instant, I'm reminded why dreaming in this day and age is a dangerous game.
Something will always come to stop you.
Val sits up from the bed behind us so violently, that I notice and turn toward her. She wears a shocked expression, and I immediately take my earbud out.
"Val? Val is everything alright?"
Claire notices me talking and stops playing, tuning to join the conversation.
Val holds up a hand to silence me and seems to stare forward at nothing. It isn't till I speak again that she finally says something.
"Val, what's-"
"Did you hear that?" she asks in a low whisper.
"N-No, what was it?"
"I heard a scream..."
A chill slithers up my spine, "Are... you sure? You weren't dreaming?"
Val seems to second guess herself, "Maybe... I was half asleep but I-"
A loud, panicked cry rings out again, distant, but certainly loud enough to hear. I'm on my feet and running to the nightstand before it's even finished. I snatch up the gun holster and fumble to put it on as I call over my shoulder.
"Claire, did anyone give us a quick way of contact? A walkie or anything?"
"Um, n-no, I don't think so-what's going on?"
"I have no idea." I tell her, working on my dad's knife next, "But it looks like I'm going to have to go find out."
Val hops to her feet and runs over to me as I finish fastening the buckle, but as I reach down for my last blade, Val's hand slaps over top of it and yanks it away.
"I'm coming too." She plainly says, strapping it to her thigh.
"Val-"
"there's no time to argue."
She's right. None of us know where the shriek came from but given where we are and the events that have occurred over the last few days, it doesn't take a detective to know that something is wrong. If the person yelled loud enough for us to hear it all the way down a separate corridor, it can't be good.
"W-What about me?" Claire says, beginning to panic, "I-I'll come too." She tells us with absolute uncertainty. It's clear that the thought of being alone frightens her more than whatever could be happening outside.
"Claireese, you need to stay here and keep the door locked, okay? We'll come straight back once the coast is clear," Val tells her as I scoop the rest of my belongings up into my pockets: a lighter, my phone, and my lock picking tools I had brought with me the night before.
"But what if something happens to you two? W-What do I do if you don't come back and I-I-"
The girl starts to hyperventilate, but before the panic attack can come on too strong, I move toward her, raising my hands in reassurance. She instantly reaches out and grabs my wrist tight.
"Don't go. Wes, please don't go-"
"Claire, hey, calm down, listen to me, alright?" I speak softly to her, gently squeezing her hand and guiding her cheek to look at me. Her eyes are wild and terrified, the same as they were when we found her the other night. "We have no intention of not coming back; I promise you. We will fight tooth and nail to make it back here, but right now, something might be going on out there, and Valentine and I are some of the only people who know how to handle this kind of stuff. They need us, or else something really bad might happen."
Claire tries to swallow and stifle her breathing, but it fails, as she's not quite convinced.
"Claireese, I promise you..."
She stares for a moment longer before nodding tremulously, then letting go of me.
Val brushes the girl's arm with a hand as she passes to cross to me, and together, the two of us rush for the door. "Be back before you know it," she cheerfully smiles at our friend before we step through. Even in the face of so much, she's found a way to be her positive self once more.
We're not the only people who heard the cries, as there are a couple people across and down the hallway who stand in their doorways and stare out in confused fear. Val and I pay them hardly any mind as we sprint down the corridor and toward the main hub. The fearful screams become more numerous as we draw nearer, and the frantic yelling of people yelling commands and expletives ricochet off the concrete walls. Whatever's happening out there sounds serious, and as we round the corner into the last stretch, I see that it is.
From the opening into the main hall, I see a sea of orange thrashing about, a thousand glowing blankets whipping in the air. The petal creatures, they're here with a vengeance, and in more numbers than I've ever seen. Even from where we stand, I can see people laying on the floor, their faces smothered by the petals' grip, and beyond, more survivors wrestle and fight back against the vicious, unending onslaught.
Val and I immediately, back up behind the corner. I know that the dinky lighter in my pocket will not be nearly enough firepower to fight against what we just saw. Literally. We need something else, and fast.
"W-What the hell is that!? There weren't that many when you fought your way through before, were there?" Val asks frantically.
"No, not even close. We need fire, and we need it quick." I tell her, staring off in thought.
Val hastily cases the hallway, then dashes off down it. She stops before a doorway in the side of the corridor, then after reading the label, tries to open it. It's locked.
"Wes, can you get this door open?" She calls to me.
I dash over and check the plaque.
'CUSTODIAN SUPPLY'
It doesn't take me long to glean her plan. I yank my lock picks from my pocket and set to work on the door. It's astonishingly simple for a top secret underground facility lock.
Inside, the smell of chemicals and cleaning supplies hits us. There're shelves stocked with every product you can imagine, and some I've never even heard of. We're not here to clean, however. We immediately start looking for anything flammable.
It doesn't take long for Val to find a bottle. Once she does, she tells me to find her some rags while she turns and grabs two metal brooms. Once the rags are in her hands, she stuffs the cloth through the hanging loops at the end of the sticks, wraps it around the end, then dowses the silk in cleaner. She hands one to me, then prepares her own. While she does, I grab as many empty spray bottles as I can, loading them up with more flammable cleaner before putting the caps back on and latching the nozzles to my belt. With our makeshift arsenal complete, Val and I look at one another, knowing that we really have no other option than the insanity we're about to attempt. With how many are out there, we're going to be overrun in minutes.
We race back down the hallway and draw my lighter. I flick the wheel, holding the small flame out for Val to ignite, then I light my own. It's just in time, too, as suddenly from behind the wall, the first blanket comes skittering around the bend.
Val swings her flaming spear at the thing, and it works like a charm, erupting it into a fiery mess of thrashing cloth. Like a dam breaking loose, more round the corner in a slow trickle, then all at once. Valentine and I furiously swing at the orange sea, replacing their glow with one of our own on each strike we land. As one catches on fire, it writhes wildly, catching a few of its siblings in the process. Very quickly, however, the creatures sense the flames dancing around them, and clear the way, backing up the way they came. This goes for the fires blazing on the ends of our brooms as well, and in a sweeping motion, Val and I sweep the width of the corridor, forcing the moving wall back and away from us. When we can, we lash out to burn away a handful of the petals, sending their majestic orange smoke pluming into the air. It clogs up the hall and clouds the ceiling, but I fight back the need to cough and pray that the fumes of the creature's body won't have the same effect as smoking sundance. I don't know if I'm ready for trip on the stuff...
Lucky for us, it seems that Mason and his men disabled the fire detectors like a bunch of morons. Most likely for the petal victims who still needed to smoke their sundance. This is good news, as it means the sprinklers above us don't begin raining down their dowsing spray from all the smoke and heat, snuffing out our lifeline in the process. Val and I keep tearing away at the flailing wall before us, till' finally, we reach the cafeteria entrance.
Closer now, I can get a better read on the situation. Most everyone who was still fighting when we arrived has been subdued, however, they're not to only one's present. The team Claireese told me about, My dad, Paul, Tom, Thirteen and Eight, as well as two other people all stand in a circle at the center of the room, swinging the fire of blow torches and flamethrowers at the onslaught coming to choke them out. They're cutting through with a lot more ease than Val and me, but the creatures just keep coming no matter how many are burned away.
Val and I go back-to-back, moving into the space and starting toward them. We continue to sweep our torches in front of us and scorch away the attackers, but we're certain to be careful not to kill any too close to an unconscious body. We don't want the creature on their face and down their throat to ignite and do serious harm. As we get closer to the rest of the survivors, my dad sees me and yells out.
"Wes! What are you doing here?"
"Get back to safety, you two!" Eight yells at us, blasting a nearby row of blankets with her thrower. I ignore her and keep swinging.
"You guys need a lot more help, it looks like!" Val answers for me, "What the hell is going on here?!"
"They started pouring out of that pool!" Tom calls, "We were gathered down below to hand out food and they just started flooding out!"
We stop calling out over the chaos to focus on the task at hand for a moment, and as we do, my brain processes what Tom just said. So far, my understanding of these creatures was that they had little 'brain' function. They seemed to operate on the simple goal of finding a host and subduing them. This attack was intentional, however. They waited until most people were in one spot, then struck all at once. It was coordinated. Like they had a plan.
Or like somebody else had a plan and was controlling them.
My head goes on a swivel, looking around the vast room and trying to pick out anything out of the ordinary over the blinding light of orange smoke and bodies. My eyes latch onto the open doorway directly opposite of us. One of the glass doors to the other living quarters hall is latched open, and the petals are flooding down that direction as well. This is odd, since they hadn't bothered to go all the way down our corridor, or any others, for that matter.
There's a specific target in mind...
I pull my broom in closer, snap a spray bottle from my belt, then hold it before the flame. I squeeze the trigger, and out launches a stream of chemicals that erupts into a scorching tongue upon contact with the fire. It lashes at the sheets in front of me, and as they back away, I call out to everyone.
"The living quarters; over there! They're moving inside!"
Everyone in the circle is too occupied to turn and look, all the creatures relentlessly focused on trying to find an opening to slip through. Val glances over her shoulder behind me, however, to see that I'm right. We edge our way closer as I blast a path for us with my makeshift flamethrower, but the next time I raise my eyes to look at the opening, something has appeared there. Rather, someone.
Mason stands holding Lyle in his arms, the boy deep in a coma from the petal on his face. My heart stops, and my blood begins to boil. I realize that Mason's only goal here is to get out with the child.
"He's got Lyle!" I scream to Val and anyone else listening before hooking the bottle back to my belt and rushing forward, clubbing anything in my path with the torch. I'm too hasty, however, as a few slip past my radius of sweeping, and I have to quickly course correct to avoid them scampering up my body. Val tries to keep up too, but having to move backward to keep them off our backs, she can't travel nearly as fast. In contrast, Mason moves like the wind. The petal creatures' part for him like the red sea as he moves with Lyle, and as I dash to try and cut him off at the exit corridor, he surprises me by instead heading for the cafeteria stairs.
'Oh God, he's going to throw him in the pool!'
"Val!" I alert her.
She tosses a look toward the man, grits her teeth, then growls, "Screw it!" before yanking a bottle from my hip and rapidly cranking the handle. Fire flies around us as she pumps the trigger rapidly, and seeing how effective it is, I return to doing the same. A path clears as we press onward, attempting to gain on the cultist who's playing coward for a second time now. We tear our way down the stairs as Mason is halfway to the pool. There's no way we're going to catch him in time.
A cry begins to rise in my throat as the man nears the edge of the lake, and I'm about to unleash it when he pauses, reaching the water at last. Then, he surprises me a second time by running along the edge till he hits the wall. From there, he climbs onto a small ledge pathway composed of roots suspended above the water and travels alongside it. Val and I hit the cafeteria floor and start after him, but our bottles are quickly burning through their supply, and Mason is still so incredibly far away.
He reaches the center of the wall over the middle of the pool, and I watch as the roots that block the lab door part with a mind of their own. They open with an organic groaning crackle, and once the space is big enough for them to fit through, Mason glares back at Val and I, smiles, then steps through.
As soon as it came, the gateway disappears.
"No!" I shout in protest. Mason doesn't seem to hear my plea.
With nothing else to do, I return my focus to the task at hand. I need to find a way out of this mess first, then we can find a way to save Lyle. The odds seem overwhelming as I turn back to see just how many beasts there are left to manage, but then something strange happens. They all stop attacking.
At once, not even a few seconds after the roots have sealed, the petals flock back to the pool at the head of the room. There, they dive in, swimming into its unknown depths to safety. The lot of us work to gun down anymore that we can on their way out, and a few still try to attack us on their way past, but they're quickly cut down. Soon, the last stream of them exits the living quarters, and aside from the few that are scorched on their way by, the rest escape, and the compound falls silent.
Our harsh panting fills the void of noise as I stare in utter confusion at the pond, the roots, and all the unconscious bodies around us. Snapping out of it, I sprint my way over to the edge of the pool and climb onto the same ledge that Mason had used. Cautiously, I skirt along it, eyeing the acidic solution below me and praying I don't fall in.
Val does the same, "Wes, be careful!" she calls after me, taking the same steps before ending up next to me in the spot Mason disappeared.
I snap my knife from its sheath and begin hacking away at the blueish gray flesh, hoping to make some sort of opening that I can fully tear through. The root oozes glowing orange juices, but as soon as my blade passes through the flora, the cells seal themselves up, growing back instantaneously. I keep at it for nearly a minute before realizing this is going nowhere.
"Dammit!" I yell, pounding the hilt of the knife against the barrier. The force of the blow against the immovable object pushes me back a little, and I stumble a bit before Val catches me, just in time to avoid a plummet to the glowing pool below us.
"Calm down..." She tells me softly, "Just think, how would he have gotten in here?"
"Probably the same way he just got out. He must have gotten some sort of control over the sundance or-" the words stop in my mouth as another thought hits me, "Or his master isn't happy I just killed his whole following."
"What the hell-You two! Get down from there!" Eight calls to us. We obey and shuffle back down the wall till we can hop off to safety.
"He got Lyle," I tell them with shallow breath, "Mason, their leader; it was all a distraction to het to him."
Tom looks shocked, terrified, and distraught, all at once. One emotions triumphs them all, however. Rage.
"Where is he? Where did he take my boy?"
I look back to where the lab door once was, "I think I know, but the way sealed up when he ran through. We can't get through."
"Then we'll burn it down."
"Whoa, Tom, hang on." Thirteen places a hand to the pastors chest, stopping him as he moves toward the roots, "You'll burn the whole place down, look how big those things are."
"We'll go after him." Val declares, announcing what I'm already thinking.
"We all will," Paul adds.
"No. Just Wes and I."
Eight lets out a scoffing laugh, "Like hell you will."
"You all need to stay here," Val argues back. "Get these people free again, then get ready. If Mason launches another attack like that, then you'll need all the help you can get."
"Okay, Ms. Captain," Eight jabs, "And what happens when you go to challenge this Mason guy, and all of those friendly critters get sicked on you? You think the two of you can take on that entire swarm alone? You'll be down in minutes."
"Wes and I will figure something out. We always do." Val is sounding a lot like me right now, it's a little worrisome.
Meanwhile, Eight is already sounding like Six, "Valentine, I know you have a lot going on right now, but that is insane. If you two go at this alone, you will die."
"So will Lyle if we don't do something..."
"We all might," I chime in, garnering everyone's eyes to me. "He needs Lyle for some kind of ritual. A 'harvest' he keeps calling it. The first time he told us about it, he made it sound like it had to do with the Vanishing." My eyes scan the audience, taking in all the faces of people who have already lost far too much. "If he finishes whatever he's doing, a lot more people could disappear. Val is right; You all need to stay here and be ready for whatever might happen. Val and I know Mason; we know how he thinks. If we can find him, we can figure out some way to get Lyle back where no one gets hurt. We need a scalpel for this, not a hammer."
"Yeah, you really came in here like a scalpel the other night to clear them out, huh?" Eight remarks.
"Eight, weren't you the one who was always vouching for us to do stuff like this?" Val points out.
Eight shifts her gaze to the side and jams her hands to her belt to avoid fidgeting, "Well, y-yeah, but... I guess I didn't realize then what it meant to be the one responsible for everyone's lives. The captain was right, and I never listened to her; If I let you two go alone, that's on me."
"Wes, we don't even know what else is out there; this is a dead zone," adds Thirteen.
I shrug, "All the more reason to not send everybody."
"For crying out loud-I see why Six was always so frustrated with you two." The new captain says, slapping her visor as if it were her face. "I can't let you go and get yourselves killed-"
"Yes we can." A voice says across the circle, causing us all to turn. My dad shifts uncomfortably under everyone's gaze before clearing his throat, "Let them go, I mean. They won't die. At least, I don't think so." His eyes draw to me, and he attempts a smile. The uncertainty behind it keeps it from it's full potential, however. Still, he tries to be strong.
"You all tell me that my kid and Valentine did impossible things all on their own when you let them go out. Why should this be any different?"
Nobody has a response.
"The world is broken, Captain... I respect your opinions, and I will follow whatever commands you give to keep us alive, but the orderly way of doing things isn't working in the world we're trapped in... It kept us alive for while, but our numbers dwindled day after day until we didn't have enough left to save ourselves when a bigger threat came knocking. I don't think we can keep playing this game the safe way. Lord knows the things out there aren't. I don't want you and Thirteen to have to make us all your problems again. I think we need to accept that the only way we're all going to stay alive out here is by taking the risks necessary to keep ourselves safe. By allowing each other to take those risks and knowing that we would do the same given the chance. We can't individually take this on all at once. We have to trust each other as individuals that we're capable of doing what needs to be done, and share that duty among ourselves." Dad turns to Val and me, then softly finishes, "And I trust you two..."
There's a long pause while Eight mulls it over, staring intensely between Val, me, and my father.
Trying to tip the scales, I offer one last thing, "I remember a while back, just after Ten died, you told me she knew what she signed up for, Eight. I know what I'm signing up for. We both do. We always have. Trust us to do this, please. Lyle needs us."
The captain's eyes are now fixed on me, burning through my chest to read my heart. When she finally comes to a census, she tilts her head up slightly, takes a deep breath in, then mutters, "Okay."
"Thank you..."
"But I want a plan sorted before you leave!" she warns, raising a finger and sticking it towards us, "You're not charging into this like you did when you came to rescue us."
"Aye, Aye, captain." I tell her.
"Don't patronize me, Neyome." Eight scowls with authority. I can see her trying to hide the smirk on her lips, however.
Val turns to me, "They said Mason left through the main doors. He went to the surface of this compound and never came back. If he just came back out where the lab was, though, that means there has to be another entrance into this place. That area, more specifically."
I nod in agreement, "And that place would have to be above us."
Eight listens to the first part of our scheme before trusting us enough to fill her in on the rest. She turns to the others, "Alright, let's get to work getting these civ's back on their feet. Wes and Val, you two head to armory and start gathering everything you need. I'll meet you there when I'm finished."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Yes, Ma'am."
Eight and the rest turn to the cafeteria, pairing off with each other to start tackling the parasites that have incapacitated the population. My dad holds back for a moment, however, stepping over to me.
"Thank you," I tell him. I'm astounded that he's willing to let me go like this.
"I meant what I said," he tells us, biting at the corner of his lip. I can tell that despite what he's saying, he's struggling to believe it. A warm feeling glows in my chest at seeing he's earnestly trying to change.
He steps forward, slapping his hands on either of my shoulders before staring me dead in the eyes, "I trust that you two can do this. But Wesly?"
"Yeah, Dad?"
My father yanks my into his embrace, and doesn't let go for a long time, "Come back to me safe. Don't make me regret it."
~
Val and I don't head straight for the armory. Instead, we fulfill our promise that we made to Claireese. Upon opening the door, the girl jumps up from the couch and turns to us. Her eyes are glowing a dim orange, and she holds a smoldering cigarette in her hand that huffs out a soft smoke of the same color. When she sees us notice it, she hastily bends over and smothers the cherry onto the coffee table, then turns back to us.
"I'm sorry, I-I didn't want to do it, but I... I couldn't think of any other way to calm down."
Val anxiously rubs her arm and shifts her gaze away, so I step inside and take the lead, "It's okay, Claire, I understand. Are you okay now?"
A giddy smile spreads across her lips, "Much better, thank you. Especially since you came back." She ends her sentence stopping a foot away from me, a little closer than I feel she normally would. Her hand grabs my arm, and she leans her face near mine, orange irises sparkling like stars as she asks, "What's going on out there? Is everything okay?"
"Um, actually... Why don't we sit down?" I tell her, guiding her to the couch and taking a seat. Valentine follows and sits on her opposite side.
The flower coaxes a slight giggle from her, "Am I in trouble? This feels like mom and dad are sitting me down for a stern talking to."
"Claireese..." I say softly, trying to gather her attention back, "The man who ran this place came back. He kidnapped Lyle."
Even through the high, I can see her expression sober up, "W-What? How the hell did he get back in? What does he want with Lyle?"
"We don't exactly know. To any of those questions. Eight and her crew are going to be keeping an extra sharp eye out now in case he comes back and attacks again, but that means somebody else has to go after the cult leader and save Lyle."
Claireese stares blankly at me, her brain too dulled to put together what I'm saying, but when she turns her head to Val and sees her distant expression, she finally puts it together.
"You... You two are going after him?"
"We have to, Claire. We know this guy. We know the way he thinks and plans. We're the best chance we have at finding Lyle."
"But what if something happens to you?" She asks. Turning back to Val, she grabs her hand, "Valentine, I just got you back too, I-I don't want to lose you either."
"Hey, just like Wes said before, Claireese, we have every intention of coming back. And when we do, we'll have Lyle."
"We did what we did back at the compound for years, Claire," I add, "And we always made it back. We'll do it again this time. Especially this time."
"We have a lot more to make it back for..." Val tells her, patting a hand over the one that grips her.
Claire thinks for a moment, her eyes darting between the two of us. Her expression goes from fearful, to forlorn, then lands on a joyful melancholy.
"Okay."
"Really?"
"Mhmm."
I can't help but chuckle with relief, "Okay... Wow, good. I really thought that was going to be harder to convince you."
"Oh, I'm trying not to think about it," she smiles, "Believe me, if I hadn't gotten high, this would probably be a whole new kind of conversation, so be glad."
"Thanks, Claireese."
She wraps an arm around either of our necks and pulls us in tight, "Come back safe you two..."
I relish in the embrace shared by the three of us. If only Leigh could have lived to see us now...
I stand alongside Val, then do one last once over of the room to make sure we're not going to leave anything of value. Meanwhile, she keeps Claire busy. There isn't much that would be pertinent to our mission that I brought with me the other night. However, one thing I spot in the bathroom causes me to pause. The two smooth crystal balls on the counter resting in a puddle of water. I reach down and pick them up, still cold to the touch. Turning them over in my hands, they don't look like anything out of the ordinary other than a pair of stones. Still, there's clearly more to them, and while I don't have time to fulfill the oath I made to myself about them the night before, I slip them into my flannel pocket after drying them off. Almost instantly, the cloth against my chest becomes damp.
After one last quick goodbye to Claireese, Val and I rush off toward the Armory. Nothing but the soft sound of our echoing footsteps fills the space as we both march on, both knowing what the other is thinking. I can sense Val's aura as her eyes trace paths on the concrete floor beneath us. She's undoubtedly doing this for Lyle, but there's certainly more to it than that. She wants to find Mason. She wants to make him pay for what he did to her mother. Still, I can see the hesitation on her face. The same kind that I wore the night I broke into this compound. The knowledge that even though the target is a sick and sadistic person, killing them means crossing the line of taking another human's life. We've been in the apocalypse for nearly two years now, despite that, there are lines from the old world that you just never think you'd dream of crossing. Snuffing out another person's soul is one of them, and I can speak from experience, no matter how evil the victim, it takes a part of you with it.
I hope that if it comes down to it, I can spare her from that.
We enter the room of lockers and stop near the doorway, each releasing a deep sigh as we set to work looking for gear. Val finds her old machete that was taken from our compound and yanks it partway from its sheath, staring down at the dull, worn metal. I Watch her carefully over my shoulder as I rifle thorough the shelves, looking for various tools we might need. When I notice that she still hasn't moved for a while, I cross to her, lacing my fingers over her wrist and lowering the blade she holds into her lap. Her head raises to me, and I speak.
"Are you certain you're up for this?"
She nods, her expression looking strong and confident. Still, I can see the grief she's repressing in order to push onward. Before I can dig farther, she forces a smile and speaks, "So here we go again, huh? It always seems like it's just 'one last trip out' with us."
I chuckle and turn my gaze down to the loaded magazine in my hand, slipping it into the pouch of a vest, "Yeah, it is, isn't it? We really ought to think of retiring after this one."
"Mm. That sounds nice. Where should we go?"
"Some place warm. I know you've been dying to wear the rest of your closet."
"Yeah," she giggles, "We'll stop on the way there at a 7/11. Get a couple of Slurpees."
"The old 'Rhine Co.' Commercial playing on the radio while we drive."
Val lets herself fully laugh at that, but it's a short one. She finds tears in her eyes that she has to wipe way before she speaks again, "I'm sorry again Wes. That I always dragged you outside that wall with me."
"It's okay, Val. It was what Leigh wanted to do too; it wasn't just you."
"Well, thank you... Thank you for always sticking with me; you didn't have to do that..."
I shake my head and ask, "Do you want to know a secret?"
"What is it?"
"I always liked going out. I wanted to. Even if it was hard and even though we were in danger constantly, I always enjoyed it. I never minded when you'd ask me to go. I would just be waiting for the next time you would."
"Why?" Val asks as she wipes her eyes once more.
"Because it meant that I got to spend more time with you. And that was something I had missed more than anything since back when we were kids."
Val snickers her sobs away and shakes her head like I just said the dumbest thing in the world, "Wesly..."
I lean over and give her a long kiss on the side of her head, "C'mon. Let's go save Lyle and stop this asshole once and for all."
The tone drops more serious as Val scoops up her collection of things into a pack and stands, "What do you think is waiting for us up there?"
I don't look her in the eye, so she can't see my worry. I truly have no clue. Whatever it is, I'm unsure that I even want to know. It's a dead zone, which means high danger. There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of those petal creatures ahead of us, and most importantly, Mason isn't working alone. Something helped him to attack with those nightmare sheets. Something opened and sealed those roots for Mason to come in and out. Something had been watching us in order to know where Lyle was, and when the best time to strike was. I truly have no clue what we're going to find up there, but I have a sneaking suspicion that we may finally get to meet the 'guide'. I just hope that whoever, or whatever, they are, they're as easy to reason with as Mason is. If it comes down to us trying to fight a god, talking our way through the situation might be our only chance of survival.
As I zip up my own pack and cross into the connector hallway to grab a helmet, my eyes trace to the floor, where I see a large stain of hastily cleaned blood. Blood that I had spilled mere hours ago. I try to ignore the sick sensation in my gut as I reach for a helmet, but then, something nags the back of my mind that causes me to turn around and face the rest of the corridor behind me. The sinister visors of the black suits stare back at me, their dense armor looking as strong as a battleship's hull.
Suddenly, the cheap military shell in my hands feels inferior, and a better idea comes to Val and I.