Ascent, p.30
Ascent, page 30
part #2 of The Lit Series Series
Orienting himself, he tried to push himself up. Tried to yell at her to call for help, but the soldier sent his boot into the side of his head. Stunned and dazed, blood ran down his brow. He was then lifted, effortlessly, and held in front of this man. This man with white eyes and rotted skin. The urge to fight kicked in. He swung his fist into the stranger's deformed face, without phasing him. His closed fist recoiled painfully.
Jessica was screaming his name. She was inside the house.
Please god… call for help.
“Jess! Call the Police! NOW! NOW!” Niles screamed desperately.
The Soldier dropped him. He placed an arm behind his back and pulled out a large, long blade. Fighting through the pain, Niles turned to run, but slipped on the wet earth as the weapon was dragged across his back in one, smooth swing. Niles collapsed as his back spasmed. My god, he's going to kill me. Crouching over his victim, the Soldier grabbed Niles’s hair and wrenched his head back as he brought the blade to his victim’s throat. This was it. He couldn’t move. He was completely incapacitated. This man was strong. He was useless against him. Pathetic.
Niles waited for the final strike. He could feel the cold blade on his exposed, extended neck.
“Please. No,” he gasped through rain, tears, and blood.
The Soldier grasped Niles’s forearm, bringing it up with a gut-wrenching SNAP! Niles cried out as the Soldier slowly stood, releasing his arm for it to fall painfully beside him. With a jolt, the Soldier left, running into the darkness, and leaping over the fence with unnatural skill.
Niles squirmed in the dirt. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. Who was that man? He had never seen anyone like that. What happened? Jessica was beside him. She was sobbing. She told him, “They’re coming, they're coming” He tried to roll over. The pain in his arm stopped him. He screamed before vomiting on the ground. His head fell forward into the mud, tasting dirt and vomit. They were coming, he would be OK. They were coming.
Noah had screamed. It was coming back. His right arm was throbbing and spasming painfully. A searing, burning pain radiated across his back. The Soldier entered, loudly slamming its boots before stopping in front of him.
“Enough,” Noah grunted. To the sounds of the bugle, the Soldier dipped to one knee, hanging its head. Filled with alcohol and opioids, Noah finally fell into an unconsciousness that even the pain couldn't break.
Joshua spooned the last of the chocolate mousse into his mouth with absolute delight. Absolutely amazing. He was worried that maybe he would never taste such an amazing thing ever again. Nate had picked him up and the ride home had been a bit strange. Nate asked him lots of questions about school, but he seemed nervous about something. His laughter on the way home seemed less relaxed than usual. He made three jokes about Joshua's bedroom and then waited before laughing, like he wanted Josh to say something. Josh just agreed: yes, it was a mess. Yes, they could use the whole room as firewood if civilization collapsed.
When they arrived home. Casey was nervous too. She sent Josh to get changed in the spare room where she had moved all his clothes. She and Nate then spoke quietly in their bedroom for a while. Grown up stuff. Josh put his clothes on, put his bag under the bed in the spare room and quietly took his phone from its usual hiding place. Carefully moving it to the other room. After dinner he would message Ellie and say Hi.
Casey played with her spoon, turning it over and over in her hands. Nate, folded his arms and sat back looking awkwardly at Josh, smiling when Josh looked back at him.
“It's good huh?”
“It's really good,” Josh mumbled through the food.
“So, Mr. Russo? Sounds like a nice man.”
Josh nodded happily, “Yeah, he is nice and very old. He has grey hair and wrinkles everywhere, but he’s really good at wheelchairs and flowers. He likes flowers and knows lots about them. He taught me about Begonias.”
“Oh, Begonias? They’re lovely” Casey nodded. “You know your grandma, she loved Begonias.”
“No,” Josh shook his head.
“No?”
“No, I don't know her much. Mum said she was a crazy bitch, but I didn't know her.” Josh sighed, causing Nate to scoff in surprise.
“Josh!” Casey was shocked, her eyes smiled though her voice tried to sound cross. “We don't use that word! My goodness.”
Josh nodded, he understood. He learnt that word was not nice today because sometimes old people forget things and it's not their fault. “Sorry. Mum said she was a bitch, I meant.”
“Whoa!” Nate recoiled, bursting into laughter. He looked at Casey, shaking his head, who smiled anxiously back. Josh wondered what he had said again. “Josh, Josh, Josh. No bitch… no.”
Slowly removing the spoon from his mouth, he stared at Nate and slowly nodded. Maybe Mum was wrong? Maybe grandma wasn't a bitch.
Through the laughter and the lightning of the atmosphere, Casey folded her hands in front of her. She thought for a moment and then asked, “So sweetheart, who is Ellie?”
Silence fell. Josh froze, staring at Nate who was now frowning uneasily at Casey. “Subtle” he remarked.
Josh didn't move. His spoon hovering over his bowl, completely still as if scared to respond.
“I don't know,” he said quietly. His eyes darted from Nate to Casey and back again.
“OK,” Nate interrupted, surprised that Casey seemed to have nowhere else to go with this question. “Is Ellie a friend? Someone you know from school?”
Josh didn't know what to say. How could something so unsettling come out of nowhere? “Ellie is my friend.”
Casey nodded, holding back a mass of questions. “Did you see her today?”
“No,” Josh snapped. Why were they asking? What were they going to do? This is what they were speaking about in the bedroom. The grown-up talk was about him and Ellie. A growling rose from the wall behind him. “She's my best friend. You don't know her.”
“Oh nice. Where did you meet her?” Casey asked.
“I don't want to talk about it now,” Josh said. The smile had gone from his face. He placed the spoon down and looked up. His eyes became wide and distant as they were the day he first arrived. Nate could see him preparing, fortifying himself for evading the questions. But over the child's shoulder, Nate noticed the kitchen walls begin to dim… what was this? In the diner he had seen the same thing. Was he imagining it? Sitting forward, he stared over Josh as the room grew warmer. “Wait…” Nate muttered, sitting forward and blinking.
“Honey it's not that you can't have friends but…”
“She's my best friend. I told you that.”
“Yes and that's great. We need friends!” Casey smiled as Nate continued to watch the room around them. It was subtle, gentle but he had seen this before…
“I need to go to my room now,” Josh said, kicking himself back from the table. He stumbled off the chair with a sense of urgency that stunned Casey. “I’m tired. Very tired, and I have to go to bed and stuff.” His hand flexed open and closed. Casey went to speak. Nate interjected, “yeah you go mate, you go. Brush your teeth, OK?”
Casey shot Nate a look. Nate watched Josh's face, those eyes. What was he thinking? What was he hearing? Josh nodded, turning from the table, and scurrying away into the hallway. He could hear them talking in adult secret voices. Casey seemed angry. Nate sounded calm, but they both sounded serious. How did Casey know about Ellie? Had he told them by accident? He felt like such an idiot. Maybe he forgot and said something. He didn't think he did, but he had done that before. He closed the door behind him and looked at this different room. He hoped this one didn't explode. He wouldn't know what to say.
This was Mika’s doing. The bastard sent someone for him. Niles lay in the hospital bed, eyes closed but very much awake. Jessica was beside him. He could hear her. She had been on the phone multiple times to various relatives and friends. The police had left. All Mika’s details were provided via his very distressed office assistant who Jessica convinced not to come to the hospital. After they had left, to get a moment of silence, Niles feigned sleep. He was aware it was later than he had thought. His arm was cast. He didn’t remember them doing that and rationalised that he must have been under anaesthetic. His back was numb and tight. Opening his eyes hurt. His cheek bone felt like hot rock, swollen, and grazed.
He heard a sniffle. Jessica was crying. Opening his eyes, she immediately looked up.
“Hey,” she soothed, moving to his bedside, and stroking his face. She took his hand in hers. “Oh my God. You're OK. You're OK. “
Niles swallowed hard, giving her hand a squeeze. “I’m drowsy, my mouth is dry.” He slapped his lips uncomfortably.
“You were under. They had to set your arm, but it's all done.” She lifted a plastic cup with a straw to his lips. A few sips, before Niles groggily shook his head.
“Did they find Mika?”
“I don't know. Kay gave them the info. I guess we just have to wait.” She continued to gently stroke his head.
Niles nodded. “This guy was sent by him. I know it. He told me. He threatened me.”
Jessica nodded. “They’ll find him, don't worry.”
The memory of the attack was seared into his mind. It was a brutal, bold assault by someone who had done that many times before. Even in his pharmaceutically induced semi-euphoria, the memory of his attacker sent shivers up his spine. That wasn't a normal guy. His attacker was a pro, a confident, hardened assailant. His eyes though. Why couldn't he remember his eyes? He wished he could describe him better, clearer. He couldn't remember. The face was odd, strange but he couldn't describe it in a way that didn't sound completely absurd.
“Baby,” Niles squeezed Jessica's hand. “Did you speak to them?”
“Yes, yes I did, it's OK.”
“Did you describe him? I can't remember… I can’t… I can’t see it properly, that's all…” Niles stuttered. “I can't remember it clearly right now.”
“I couldn't,” Jessica cried, shrugging in disbelief. “I couldn't.”
Perplexed, Niles looked at her, “Why?” he asked
“It was raining so heavily, it was dark… I…”
“Why?” Niles repeated.
“Niles, I didn't see anyone. Something was happening, I could hear it, I could see you, but I didn't see anyone.” Shaking her head, flabbergasted.
Stunned, Niles let his head fall back onto the pillow. He had been pulled through a door. He had been beaten and slashed. How could she not have seen someone… anyone. Trembling, he exhaled. This was not enough. How could he not remember? How could this have gone completely unseen? Feeling the sedatives slowly lifting, the pain began to gently radiate through his arm and shoulder. They had to find Mika and the man responsible for this. This person, whoever it was, came to kill him.
Luka took the bottle of water from Chelamah’s hand as she stood over him. “You have to drink. No matter how sick it makes you feel. You still need water.”
Sitting on the floor, Luka lifted the bottle to his lips “You didn't have to come back.” He took a sip before gagging.
“I know” Chelamah agreed. “Swallow it. Just a bit.”
Luka grimaced, forcing the water down. It tasted metallic. “It tastes bad.”
“It won't for long. The worst will wear off soon.”
“I still can't see in the light properly.”
“No,” Chelamah replied, “that won't wear off I’m afraid.”
Chelamah moved to the back of the basement. She could hear movement above them. She was surprised that Luka, of all people, lived with his grandmother. Who would've thought. A simple room, a double bed, a large TV but a very impressive computer setup. Luka’s home made her feel sad. Lonely, unexciting, and temporary. She wondered when he realised there was no point in thriving. No point in studying, working, or learning. When had he accepted that his human life was not worth paying much attention to? That he wouldn't be a player in this world for very long so why bother? What a cruel tease. Born human, grow and get a taste of what that really means just before you become a monster.
“Why are you doing this?” Luka asked suspiciously.
Chelamah sat on the floor, leaning against his bed, and facing him. “I honestly don't know.”
“Devotees looking out for each other?” Luka held his bottle up as if about to give her a ‘cheers’. “That's what Crystal said. Salut’ you fucking bitch.”
Yes, she was. Chelamah smiled. “Yeah, she's pretty damn awful.”
Luka looked embarrassed. “Aren't you going to ask me?”
“No” Chelamah replied. She knew why he had done it. She didn’t think him stupid. Gullible yes, stupid no.
“Why?” Luka asked, looking at her quizzically.
Chelamah sighed, staring into space. “Because I know why.”
“You do?”
“The same reason why I’m sitting here spooning water into you. Maybe we give a shit about each other because no-one else does. But we aren't the stupid ones. We aren't the weak ones. We know what we are. Crystal doesn't. She plays the game so hard that Mika actually lets her think she's won. He knows this. But she’s the same as us, nothing more. I’m here because at the end of the day we’re fodder to these people. We’re disposable. I know that, you know that. Crystal, however, doesn't see it. The more she fools herself the closer and closer she creeps to her end, and it will happen. Crystal seriously believes in the lie she has constructed for herself. She's a lot further along than she thinks. And when she falls, and she will fall, it will be at a much higher price than ours. That’s the definition of stupid.”
Luka nodded slowly. It made sense to him. He liked Chelamah. He always had, as had Jason. In fact, most people did. It was such a shame she was wasted on a two-faced prick like Noah. She was right. Crystal tried to bring about his end and for what? There was nothing she would gain from him not being in the picture. It was all just a cruel and nasty game. That was all, nothing more. There was no other thought, no planning. It was just entertainment for a petty, nasty mind. The least that they could do was be there for each other.
He stared at Chelamah. He wanted her to know. Why did he want her to know? Because she was right. They were disposable.
“Noah killed your mother,” Luka declared coldly. “Noah killed your mother because Mika needed her out of the way so he could get her Grimoires. They were protected. The protection broke with her death.”
Chelamah jumped to her feet. “That's not true.”
“Yes, it is. It is true, I swear to you, and right now I have nothing to lose by telling you. She didn't kill herself. I know it. Jason knows it. Mika and Crystal know it. She didn't jump. She was attacked and thrown.”
“No,” the room span. Chelamah gasped, trying to catch her breath. “No.”
“Why do you think Noah went from just a curiosity to a place at the table?” Luka took no pleasure from Chelamah’s pain, but he did take satisfaction that he would no longer have to hold their secret. “He was a good boy Chel… he did what he was told.”
Chapter 23
Noah's head lulled to one side. Drool dripped from his mouth. He swallowed, shaking his head uncomfortably as he heard the familiar creak of the restraints beneath him. He opened his eyes and felt nauseous. Jesus, how much had he taken last night? He couldn't feel his hands. His legs were stiff and cold.
“Fuck” he muttered, banging his head on the rest behind him. He wriggled his fingers, warming them up before uncomfortably dragging his right hand out of the restraint. He extended his frozen fingers, gently and painfully opening and closing them. What an idiot. He had been in this thing all night. At least the pain from the last venture had gone, but he was gonna be sore after at least 12 hours harnessed to a wooden chair.
“Ow, ow, ow” he grunted, pulling painfully on the second restraint. It was tight. The left always was. Loosely restrained right hand but everything else gets battened down. Only usually, he would then release the restraints and collapse painfully onto the bed. But thanks to the whiskey and oxy, that wasn't the case last night.
“What are you doing?” A voice asked accusingly.
Startled, Noah stared through the haze to a familiar silhouette standing in the doorway.
“What?” Chelamah repeated, her face hard, her voice stern, “…are you doing?”
Speechless, Noah quickly turned his attention back to the strap.
“Chel… no… wait.” He panicked, releasing his arm, and turning his attention to the legs. “Please just listen.”
Chelamah walked in, glaring in disgust at the structure around him. So, this was why she was never allowed here. All of this was why he had looked so damn nervous when she arrived the last time. That chair once sat in the Pantheon. That chair had once been used by another, and she knew exactly what its purpose was.
His face contorted with pain. He slid from the seat and stood, steadying himself on the wall beside him.
“My mother?” shaking her head in disbelief and grief, she cried. “Damn you Noah!”
Christ, she knew. “Please just… just wait, just… listen.” Frantically he chased her into the front room.
Reaching the front door, Chelamah turned to face him, furious “Why? How could you do that? She was all I had. I have nothing left. Who was it last night? Who? How many have there been? And why? Let me take a guess… Mika!”
The room plummeted into darkness. Noah shook his head in panic. “N-n-no, no, no, Chel no. It w-w-wasn't that simple.”
“My mother was the only hope I had! So who else did Mika tell you to destroy? Kill? Huh? Or did we just maim last night? Or perhaps, we just beat the shit out of them and threw them off a roof! God damnit Noah! I knew this about Jason. I knew Miya but you’re in bed with him too.”
