Jay Posey - Three

“What is this place?” she asked.

“Wayhouse,” Three answered, emerging from the entryway. “Not much to look at, but should be safe enough for a day or two.”

“Is it yours?”

“For now, yeah.”

As usual, Three wasn’t really answering her question, and it annoyed Cass. She felt light-headed, empty, the room seemed to tilt ever so slightly to the left. Three must’ve read her.

“You alright?”

Cass nodded, closed her eyes.

“I just need to rest.”

What she needed was quint, and soon. She couldn’t think about it now though, her brain was too foggy with fatigue and hunger. She’d figure it out. She always had before. Wren slipped up next to her, and took her hand. It felt small in hers.

“Before you sleep, let me show you something.”

“Can’t it wait?” she asked, opening her eyes.

“No.”

He took her by the arm, firmly, but with care. Supporting her more than leading her. Wren trailed along beside her, eyes roving.

“Let me show the ways out. Just in case.”

“In case of what?”

Three ignored the question.

“You saw the way we came in. There’s a button to the right of the ladder. Just press it, and you’re out.”

He led them back to the storage room, and it didn’t take Cass long to scan the whole thing. All available wall-space was taken up by the metal shelving, each heaped with a packrat’s nest of unsorted supplies. She glanced up at the ceiling, looking for any sign of a hatch or other entry, but found none.

“Right here,” Three said.

He stretched out his hand, fingers extended to form a triangle with the three longest, and pressed them against the wall, just above and beside where one of the shelves was braced. Cass saw what looked like tiny cracks in the cement wall, and realized that they were in fact markings, indicating invisible pressure plates where Three now pressed.

A whir and click sounded from below, and Three stepped back as a segment of the floor smoothly retracted, revealing another set of steep stairs, like the ones from the first entry.

“Down there, it’s a short corridor, then a branch, left and right. Both ways lead out. To the left is how I got in. It’ll take you up to the third floor of the building that’s above us now. The right goes out through the basement of the neighboring building.”

Cass nodded faintly. If she didn’t rest soon, she knew her body would shut down and force the issue. She swallowed hard, feeling a bilious gurgle in the back of her throat. In front of her, the floor panel slid back into place.

“You can open it?”

Cass nodded again.

“Show me.”

Her hands were trembling, impossible to hide now. Still, she ran her fingers across the plates, triggered the hatch.

“Good.”

“And here’s the other!” Wren called from behind.

Cass hadn’t even noticed him slip off. She and Three turned to find the boy just outside, crouching near the entry of the supply room. He was beaming, like he’d just found the most well-hidden Easter egg.

“Where does this one go?”

Three stepped out, and Cass followed. A panel in the wall to the right of the supply room entrance had disappeared, leaving behind a three-foot tall corridor that trailed off into darkness. Three knelt and peered into it. He grunted.

“I have no idea,” he answered, flatly.

It took a moment before Cass realized this was the first time Three had seen this route before.

“How’d you open it?”

Wren shrugged.

“It just kinda happened.”

“It opened itself?”

Wren shook his head.

“So you pressed something?”

The boy shook his head again.

“Then how’d you find it?”

Wren shrugged again, looked down to the floor, shrinking into himself as if he’d done something wrong. Cass moved to him, put a hand on his shoulders.

“It’s alright baby. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Three said gruffly, “if you can’t tell me how to close it again.”

“I’m sorry,” Wren said, voice quivering. “I just… I just…”

“Just what?” Three pressed.

“That’s enough,” Cass snapped.

“Felt it…” Wren finished, trailing off.

“Wren, it’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart, OK? Why don’t you go sit on one of those beds and take your shoes off?”

She directed his shoulders with her hands and steered him gently towards the beds, and patted him on the bottom as he went. Then she turned back to Three, and lowered her voice.

“Listen,” she said, quietly but smoldering. “In case you haven’t figured it out by now, Wren’s very sensitive. Especially to how people talk to him. You watch what you say.”

Three just stared back at her without emotion, his dark eyes boring into hers. She saw the muscles in his jaw work, teeth clenching. But he didn’t reply. Just turned to look back down the corridor.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said finally. Then disappeared down into the half-height hallway.

Cass stood there with her hand on the wall, gathering herself.

“Mama?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I can’t get my shoe off.”

She sighed to herself. So weary.

“Alright.”

Cass turned to face Wren, saw him with his right foot at an awkward angle, stuck in the upper part of his boot. Only a child could figure out how to get a foot stuck in shoes that were too big for him. She started to walk over to him, to help get him free.

Instead, everything went black.

Her first thought on waking was that she’d fallen onto a bed of coals. From hip to breast her right side seared with pain, though try as she might, she could not will herself away from it. Darkness coated her vision, an oily blackness filled with disease. Voices floated there, muted, distorted.

“…a blanket, water…”

The words were harsh, commanding. Cass felt the floor give way beneath her. Falling. Pain clinging like a web.

She landed in an arctic lake, subterranean, its blackness complete. Surrounded, drowning, but somehow able to breathe. Silence. Nothingness.

Aroaring wind blasted her ears. Scalding. She was trapped, cocooned in agony. She fought to free herself, struggling, thrashing to no avail. Iron shackles clamped her wrists, biting her skin, crushing her bones. A weight pressed down on her, smothering. Forcing the air from her lungs. Compressing her ribcage, preventing inhalation. Though blind, she felt the blackness returning. Closing in. Stalking. Overtaking.

Naked, under a night sky. Glimmers of light streaked, stars falling from heaven. Beautiful. Deadly. A storm of glassy shards plummeted, showered her, pierced her flesh like needle-point icicles. She screamed, but her voice sounded far away. She twisted to escape, but some steely trap encased her, held her tightly beneath the impaling rain. Too much to bear. Consciousness slipped out of reach, never fully grasped.

Agentle breeze soothed her skin, her forehead, her cheeks. A wetness brushed across her lips, and Cass opened her eyes. Asher loomed over her with his wolfish grin, a steel cup in his hand. Cass tried to pull away, but had no strength. He leaned down, pressed the cup to her lips. She fought, clenched her teeth, tried to shake it away. A viscous fluid flowed over her lips, down her throat, acrid, bitter. Her body tried to reject it, but the liquid seemed alive, crawled its way into her belly, nested in her gut. Asher stood, and smiled until his face ripped. Within the crimson wounds, something wet wriggled. Blackness swallowed her.

Something cold in her hand. Small, but soothing, life-giving. A beacon. Calling her. It pulsed, grew warmer, lent her strength. Blue light glowed, faintly electric, peaceful. She warmed slowly, steadily, and the light brightened. A shape appeared at the center of the light, and Cass smiled to herself. Wren. He was there with her, bringing her light in the darkness. His mouth moved in slow motion, as if saying her name, though he made no sound. She called to him, but the words felt foreign, or too big for her mouth. She heard herself moan, and in that moment, the light shattered. A thousand sparkles of blue-hued glass exploded and faded into the darkness, and once again she knew no more.