Ascent, p.6
Ascent, page 6
part #2 of The Lit Series Series
Noah’s body bucked and writhed. Limbs straining under the leather harnesses. He gritted his teeth, grunting loudly, never screaming. His body was savagely beaten, as he looked through the Soldier’s eyes and felt through the victim’s body. His target mustn’t die. He was not to die. Noah’s body turned limp, unable either to defend or react. His body slammed by invisible forces. His victim’s consciousness was gone. He was close to death and the Soldier would kill him if let. It had to end now. Taking in an agonising breath, Noah forced a scream. That was the call to end.
The Soldier stopped. Standing over its battered victim, it listened intently, gazing into the destruction. Returning to the window from which it entered, it stood beside Mac, who was now catatonic with fear. The Soldier was unable to see him. There were others here, as destroyed as Mac. That was how they would remain.
It reared back, then leapt through the torn window frame. The damaged lights above the store flickered on, illuminating the wreckage. People gathered at the entrance, but none entered. The human casualties remained strewn about the floor, brought down by Dex’s use of the shadow in a desperate, final effort to save himself.
Alone in the wreckage, brutally battered, Dex lay still, bloodied and beaten.
The lights of the room flickered as the Soldier strode back in, staring at Noah with alarm. Noah screamed and the Leviathan came to see why. Noah slowly, painfully turned his head to the side. “Stop now” he groaned. “Leave him.” A moment of contemplation and the Leviathan stepped back into the shadows where the familiar distorted bugle play began again. The Soldier kneeled facing the wall.
Noah breathed as deeply as his pain filled body would allow. Tears of agony filled his eyes. Unlike his target, merciful unconsciousness had not found him, and it never did. He would endure the pain he caused others with absolute clarity. That pain would soon pass, but the wounds inflicted on the Soldier by the shadow would not. They were Noah’s to keep.
The Wraith’s blackened form lay on the carpet next to Chelamah, who didn’t move. Her motionless body, palms covered in ink, were still placed upon the wet canvas, as if peering through a window. The Wraith let out a blood-curdling screech before falling back into her, returning to its dormant state within its human host. With a start, Chelamah fell to the floor where she lay unmoving, too spent for any thought other than it had stopped. She was back.
Slowly, she pulled her bruised arms and legs toward her body, curling into a ball. She gasped, grabbing her bloodied arm to her chest. She examined her hands, holding her quivering fingers in the poorly lit room. Marco’s blood had gone, but the injuries on her body remained. She felt her chest and arms sting as burnt skin moved with breathing. She would have to tend to the wounds before they got worse.
Painfully, she staggered into the bathroom and turned on the light, squinting in the glare. Her clothes were tattered, her hair dishevelled and matted. Slowly, wincing in discomfort she began to peel clothes off her reddened, burnt skin. The victim she had embraced had scalded her like molten tar on her flesh. She was grateful she was still able to move her arm. Mercifully, her shoulder was also intact. She had feared it had been broken. She would have to shower and dress the burns. The physical discomfort was numbed by the visions that still swirled in her mind like a feverish dream. Will, the Minister, moving between multiple realms and then… that. Just before she had found herself on this floor, barely escaping a fate worse than death. But what had she seen beyond that door? What did she see when the Leviathan’s facade of a world was removed? It made no sense, indescribable. Between two realms, between two sick, fabricated landscapes there was another. And it was monstrous.
Once showered, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her blood ran cold. She had seen those eyes before and with each visit, she had seen them changing. It would be more difficult to hide them now.
Noah opened his eyes and hazily stared at the stained plaster ceiling. His eyes were stinging; he had not been asleep long. He was still fully dressed, his boots resting on the floor a foot or more off the end of the makeshift bed. For a moment all was well, peaceful. But then the memory of the previous night pushed forth in his mind, knotting his stomach. Marco. Chelamah. The young man with no name and a bloodied, white t-shirt.
When the event ended, he had stumbled onto the mattress and fell asleep, hardly surprising after 48 hours of slumberless bullshit. Quickly, he rolled onto the floor and rummaged through the empty food containers and remnants of past tenants. He pulled out his phone… nothing. She had not made contact. A feeling of urgency overcame him. Clothes askew and dizzy from fatigue, he stumbled to his feet.
It was 7.30. Seven hours. Seven fucking hours of nothing. What had happened?
Snatching his beanie off the floor he shoved it onto his shaved head. Leaving the room he walked into what would have been, at some point, the kitchen. Phone to his ear, he willed her to answer. By the third attempt, he was making his way to the front door. Swinging it open, the morning cold hit him as he collided with Chelamah. He yelped, before grabbing her with startled relief.
“Damn!” He pulled her close to him. “Jesus what happened?”
The sounds of heavy, confident footsteps filled his ears, moving closer and closer. It felt his shock, sparked to life by his rush of adrenaline and now it waited for the anger. But this wasn't possible, not with her. Chelamah said nothing.
“W-w-what happened?” He began guiding her back into the house. She didn't reply, her head low and eyes cast down. There was a silence about her that was unsettling. Holding her, he looked around nervously. She could not enter any further. She couldn't know what was only metres away. The atmosphere grew dark and echoless. The air thickened; who was doing this? Him or her? He couldn't tell, but he could feel the dread seeping about them. This is how it started, and he knew from his side anyway, it would go no further. But what about her?
“Listen to me,” he spoke softly, ever so slightly rocking her body with his. “Listen… just… listen… breathe. Let it go… breathe and let it go… you're with me… just with me… don't tell me what happened…not yet… just be with me.”
To Noah's relief, Chelamah nodded. She spoke quietly, not lifting her head. “I’m seeing him again today.”
“Who? Your m-m-mother’s friend?” Noah asked. “Did he make it? He got through it?”
“Yes. There are others. I just don't know where, but he does. We don't have much time.” Chelamah nodded again. “I need to see him. I have seen… It has me. I am still there.” Her voice trailed. “I still see it. I’m not enough. You are not enough.”
“Enough?” He asked confused, “enough for what?”
“Not enough pain. Not enough screaming. Not enough horror. Not enough loss or sadness. We are not enough,” she muttered coldly. “It wants more. It will take more.”
“Baby no… no. It won't take you…” Noah held her tight.
“It will. I need to talk to him. I need to know. There is no other hope. You have to walk… through the dark… you have to choose those to walk with,” she replied.
“I choose you… I choose you to walk with. I'll be with you. Whatever this is, I walk with you, and we will fucking beat it. I swear to god.”
“The gods I've seen are not worth swearing to.” Chelamah shook her head.
“You and me, remember. You and me, we can see this through,” Noah argued forcibly, holding her tighter.
“You can't walk with me.” She shook her head once more.
“Why? OK, you're freaking me out now. Why? What happened?”
Chelamah gently pushed away from him and looked up at him with a sad smile of resignation. Noah pushed away; his nose turned up with a learned revulsion. He saw the whitening eyes that stared back at him. “Because I’m already there.”
Chapter 5
The cold had no end. In the twilight of evening, on a wet park bench outside the library of a primary school, Ellie sat holding a hot beverage. The heat radiated through her gloves. This service station produced very ordinary coffee. Never busy, and the man behind the counter never attempted to engage in conversation.
The grey sky was fading to black. She yawned. The last two months had been very hard, and she was tired. First the events that turned her life upside down and now, her own mind ruminating over these same events with a mixture of confusion, fear and wonder.
The little boy sitting beside her echoed her yawn. Gloved hands wrapped tightly around a takeaway cup of hot chocolate. Together they stared at the empty school yard where so many things had begun. Joshua liked this bench and Ellie felt, given what was about to happen, this was a good place to reassure him.
The pain in her ribs from Bael’s fist had nearly dissipated. Bastard. A few ribs had most likely fractured but she chose not to think too much about it. Josh's little body was still covered in yellowing bruises. She was grateful that, being winter, it was easy for them both to don many layers of clothing so no-one would ask why. During the period after the Circle it could be difficult to make up excuses.
It had been 6 weeks since she and a young boy called Josh cemented an unlikely friendship through a twisted kinship. A lot of decisions were made, and a lot of risks were taken. She didn’t know why she had done it. A small person had entered her life. Almost from the outset she had felt an overwhelming urge to protect him. And she had. Dr Niles would have loved to pull this shit apart.
Though, in turn, this small person had also protected her. And then there was Sam. Without him, neither she nor Josh would have made it to the Circle. That was a win. No-one had ever survived being Lit until now. This was qualified by Sam and his own experience. No-one had ever made it back. However, with this child she had learnt things, important things. Mechanics that she had no idea existed until now.
Though now, it was time for the facade of normality to invade their space. Common-sense had to prevail. Ellie knew Josh couldn’t stay with her. They would look for him, as Sam had warned. Not that he needed to. She wasn’t stupid. Joshua was a child, only 8 years of age, and the absence of his mother wouldn’t go unnoticed. Explaining it to him had been very hard. She liked to think that he understood.
He had sat there and listened, smiling softly when she did, nodding in the right places. The anxiety with each sentence built in his eyes, but he kept smiling - kept nodding.
It was three days since Ron’s white car had been removed from the front of the school. It was also obvious, when returning to Josh’s house of horrors, that people had been inside. That was Friday. Today was Sunday. School tomorrow. Sam and she knew that they would be waiting for Josh. Given how badly surprises often turned out for their kind, it was best she prepared Josh and beat them to it. Even though he didn’t realise it at his young age, for people like them, having control was key. The unexpected, caused distress. Distress caused chaos.
“Is it because of bossy Sam?” he muttered, straw still sitting in his lips.
“No, no,” Ellie replied. “It’s not Sam. I can deal with Sam. Sam said it because he cares. You know that.”
“Is it because I did something wrong, because I tried to change the toilet roll, but the spinney thing fell off?”
“No, not at all. The spinney thing always falls off.” Ellie shook her head. “You have done nothing wrong. It's the way it works. People noticed your Mum isn’t here. They will look for you. You’re 8 years old. They will ask you questions.”
“I’m nearly 9 but…” Josh replied, holding his gloved hand up first with four fingers, then with five. “You told me what to say about my Mum and Ron and never coming back and stuff. I remember it really well.”
“They won't just let you stay with me. I wish they would, but they won't” Ellie sighed, shaking her head. “I know you think they will, but they won’t. That's not the way it works. They will want to look after you.”
A moment of excitement washed over Josh, like he had discovered secret, magic words. “You look after me! Really well all the time and give me stuff like they say a mum should! Let's just tell them that!”
Ellie tried not to look into his wide, pleading brown eyes. “You have to trust me. This is the right thing. The only thing we can do, OK?”
Quickly, as if startled, Josh clumsily slapped the pocket of his coat. With a sigh of relief, he tilted his paper cup and gulped the last drops of lukewarm chocolate.
Ellie smiled softly. “It’s still in the same place it was five minutes ago?” Josh nodded “Mm hm.”
She had purchased Josh a little phone from the shop. He was delighted and kept running his finger over it like it was the most amazing thing in the world. He put it in his coat pocket. He would then take it out again and wipe it with the cuff of his coat until it shined, admire it, then put it back in and… repeat. He was overjoyed at seeing the tightly wound black charger cable under the phone in the glossy new box. Like another gift. New things just for him.
Josh had her number, and she had his. This is what this phone was for, contact and a lifeline for Josh. She knew the chances of him being able to call for help before all hell broke loose was bleak, but at least he had someone he could vent his feelings to. Perhaps she could deescalate before things got dangerous. How effective she would be was doubtful. Sadly, it was only a matter of time before Josh would lose control. This would be his life now. He would have to learn some very cruel lessons.
Placing his cup down slowly on his lap, he stared at the path before them. That was where they stood when it happened. That was where the fighting and yelling turned into running and screaming. He had felt so safe the last few weeks. He had felt so cared for. The thought of leaving all of that was so deeply sad. He would miss being with Ellie, in the warm flat with the bottomless fridge and nice smelling soap. He would even miss loud Sam, who would sit on the kitchen bench and talk so much that Ellie would ask him to calm down all the time.
“So what happens then?”
“With what?”
“With everything… Will I come back?” Josh asked looking up at her “or… do I go to my aunt’s house and never come back?”
“Your aunt lives here, yes? Close by?”
“Kinda,” Josh muttered.
“Kinda? You said she went to the same shops sometimes and that when your Mum saw her, you left quickly.”
“Yeah I think so. It looked like her I think, and Mum said bitch. Then I saw her going into the school on my way home Friday… it was the same lady I think.”
Ellie hid her fear and nodded. That was obviously who had been at his house. She knew, therefore, everyone knew. With a reassuring nudge, Ellie stood and watched Josh grab his knapsack and stand in front of her. She could see the glint of tears in his eyes, his hands wringing furiously.
“It’s OK. I am right here. And I will be, OK? We will still be best friends, yes?”
“B.F.F” Josh nodded softly. “Just don’t let the scary man get you.”
Ellie nodded, surprised once again of the tears slightly misting her own eyes.
“Never. Never Josh. Remember it’s me and you, not…?”
“…us and them” Josh nodded strongly. “They are not our friends.” His gaze drifted to the road beside them. “Like now… that stupid dog is on the road… if he was normal he would cause an accident or something… stupid.”
“You do what we practiced, and it will be OK. If it’s not OK you run… you run away so fast and call me.”
Josh nodded. He wanted to run now, far away. But Ellie would have to come too, and he knew she couldn’t. Ellie held out her hand, Josh bashfully but whole heartedly took it. Together they started down the path to the road.
There were so many things to be considered with Josh, and she was very aware of the risks. They barely had two weeks to work on the back story. What concerned Ellie was how quickly and tragically it could all go wrong. And it would go wrong. The thought of all hell breaking loose and her not being there for him, when he was scared and confused, was almost unbearable. Ellie knew she couldn’t prevent it. Like herself, Sam and any other Conduit, there were nightmares coming for him that he would have to endure alone.
Rule number 1: “Don't mention the Dog. They won’t believe you. No-one will believe you.
Rule number 2: “Don’t mention me. They won’t believe me either.”
And rule number 3: the most important of all… “Don’t get angry. If you feel like you are getting angry, run away.”
The story which was rehearsed multiple times was simple in theory; Mum and Ron had simply not come home. They spoke about persistence and consistency. It was important to keep the story simple and solid. Sadly, Ellie realised that keeping secrets to protect other people was something Josh was very well-versed in. He had told this story before and tragically, Josh was not unknown to the system. She hated exploiting this. He would be safe, at least for another 10 months, but no one around him would be.
Ellie guided him to the path opposite the police station. Josh had someone that cared enough to seek him out, and this made Ellie grateful. He would be with them and hopefully living not too far away. For now, all was well. She had chosen not to know too much about his family. It would only serve to worry her further. She was effectively delivering to them a small and chatty gateway to hell, with an insatiable appetite for chocolate milk. Ellie gently turned Josh to face her. “Now you remember, yes? The words?”
