Chapter 17 #2
“I knew something was wrong with me,” he continues. “And I… I was so afraid. I begged my mother to let me see a priest, but she refused. She said a priest would see the darkness in me, and would know what I was.”
“What you are?” I repeat, not understanding, though a shiver of foreboding creeps down my spine. A demon? But no, no. I can’t believe that.
He shrugs, misery written all over his face.
“She never explained what she meant.” He takes a deep breath, sighs it out.
“But…I could feel it, too. The darkness. I feared it would get worse. So when I turned eighteen, I ran away from home. I tried, first, to go to a church. But I couldn’t set foot on the grounds.
So instead, I followed the rumors to this place.
” He slowly raises his eyes to mine again.
“I knew the exorcism would hurt, Willow. I thought it was worth the chance of fixing me.”
For a moment, I’m silent, wrestling with my emotions. Anger at him for withholding information that could have saved him a lot of pain, sorrow for what he’s been through, still-lingering guilt. And strongest of all, empathy. Religion left scars on both of us, though his are more visible.
And I decide, all at once, that I don’t care what he is. I don’t care if he’s a demon, or anything else. Because he is good, or at least he’s trying very hard to be. I believe that deep down in my bones.
“You should have told me, Cain,” I say. He shivers at the sound of his name on my lips, his eyes locked on mine. “Tell me the truth from now on. You’re not alone anymore. We’re a team. Okay?”
He holds my eyes, as if searching for something, before nodding. “Okay,” he says, barely audible.
An awkward silence stretches, neither of us sure what to say in the aftermath of all of that. I can’t bring myself to scold him any more than I already have; he seems the type who’s all too eager to punish himself for his mistakes, anyway. Just like me.
Finally, I clear my throat. “There’s one more thing,” I say, and hand over the bag I brought. “Call it a late birthday present.”
He stares for a second, taken aback in a way that makes me self-conscious, before reaching into the bag to pull out the small stack of paperbacks.
His eyes widen when he recognizes them. “Oh! New books.” He sits on the edge of his bed, sifting through them.
“I didn’t realize there was a new release in this series. Oh, and this is—”
“Yeah. New series by one of the authors you like. I wasn’t sure if you’ve read it before.” I had to do something, after the way the exorcism went. This was the only thing I could think of to make him feel better.
Cain looks up at me, his smile so wide that for a moment I forget the burn marks, the extra eyes and strange overnight growth, the failed exorcism, all of it.
Everything but his smile. “Thank you,” he says.
And from the way he says it, it’s like I’ve done something enormous, rather than the simple kindness of a few books I picked up because I was thinking of him.
I blink and look away, because the way he beams is almost too bright to look directly at it. “Don’t mention it. Figured you could use the distraction.”
The next time I’m at the MRF, I’m on the night shift again.
I’m deep in my thoughts, and I’m supposed to be the only security guard on duty—so when I turn the corner and nearly run into someone, I nearly jump out of my skin.
My hand is on the butt of my gun before my eyes catch up with my racing heart.
“Jesus Christ,” I say, dropping my hand from the weapon. I feel foolish; I haven’t gotten spooked like that since my very first overnight. The memory of running into Vince sends a pang through my chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack, Ellis.”
He smiles at me sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.
His other, I notice, went to his gun, just like mine did.
He must’ve just been cleared to carry it recently, because I haven’t noticed it before.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. I was going through some files, lost track of time. ”
“You headed out, then?”
“Yeah. Good luck with the overnight.”
He walks past me, whistling cheerfully. I continue on to the security room.
I settle myself at the table with a hot cup of coffee and glance around at the cameras while flicking through the notes left throughout the day.
It seems it’s been quiet. Cain has been stable, and Dr. Sullivan is scheduled to come during my next shift to check his condition after the height change.
Stable should feel like a win after the disaster of that exorcism, but I can’t fight the impatient itch beneath my skin. His condition is still deteriorating, his transformation accelerating. I need to find a way to stop this, but my first attempt only seemed to make things worse…
I glance up at the screens, eyes drawn as always toward Cain. I’m surprised to find his camera on, when I know Ellis hates to watch it, but perhaps he knew I was coming in next. I look just in time to see him sit up in bed, running a hand through his hair, blinking like he just woke up.
I hum to myself, checking on the rest of the cameras. Then movement catches my eye, and my attention turns to Cain once more. He’s looking toward the observation window, his mouth moving like he’s talking to someone.
Frowning, I flip over to the camera in the observation room—but the screen is black. The camera’s been disconnected.
I click on my radio. “Ellis? Are you in Observation Room 16 right now? I thought you left.”
I wait, but there’s no response.
“Anyone?” I try again. “Is there any staff currently in the building right now?”
No response. As I watch, on screen, Cain rises from the bed and approaches the window, his hands held aloft.
I register the distress in his expression a moment before the lights flicker.
Shit. Something’s wrong. I push up from my chair and race toward the observation room, heart pounding.
The room is close. It takes only a minute to reach it. But every second feels like a lifetime when I don’t know what’s happening in that room. I can’t stop thinking about Vince, who bashed his own face in with a security baton before anyone could stop him.
And Ellis has a gun.
My feet skid to a stop outside of the room, and I scan my key card at the same time as I grab the handle, yanking the door open and stepping inside.
Where I see Ellis on his feet, staring through the window with an odd smile on his face—and his gun in his hand, slowly rising toward his own head.
“Ellis, don’t—” I say, reaching for him. Remembering what happened to Vince, to the last head of security. Dimly, I register Cain looking through the window, horror etched in his expression.
At the same time, Ellis turns to me, aiming the gun in my direction. “Willow. I was hoping you would join us.”
I freeze automatically, one hand half outstretched, too confused to feel the sting of betrayal yet.
“Ellis?” I ask, wary.
He’s still smiling. But it’s a strange smile—a mockery of a grin, really, something manic and wild in his eyes.
His hand trembles as he grips the gun; Cain’s presence is affecting him, but that’s not what’s making him act like this.
“I was right,” he says. “I’ve been hoping this whole time, but it’s him. It’s really him.”
My eyes dart to Cain, who is pounding on the glass, his mouth moving without sound. The intercom must be shut off. “Slow down. What are you talking about?”
“Subject X-16,” he says, practically buzzing with excitement.
Blood trickles from his nose, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“He’s the one. I suspected, but I didn’t know for sure until I saw the birthday listed in his file.
June sixth!” He laughs, and it terrifies me how normal he sounds, just like the man I’ve gotten to know. “He’s the Harbinger.”
I freeze at the unexpected term, pinging a memory deep within me. “The Harbinger…” It takes a second to place it, before my stomach sinks.
I remember the preacher’s manic grin on that day. His palms held toward the ceiling in supplication. “The day has come. The Harbinger is here.”
The cult. He knows.
No. It’s more than that. Not only does he know the term, but he’s excited about it. I swallow hard, my mouth dry as the realization sinks in. “You’re one of them,” I whisper. “The Children of the Red Sun.”
He stares at me, head tilting. “You know us?”
I take a breath. Maybe there’s a way through this. “I didn’t know there were any others left,” I say. “I thought… Everyone died but me.” I refuse to look at Cain again. “The day he was born.”
“Oh,” he says. The gun lowers, just a fraction of an inch, wonder in his eyes. “You were there that day. You were with the first sect.”
Oh, God. I thought the Children of the Red Sun and their insane beliefs had died out on that day, but…that was foolish of me. The preacher got away. And of course he was too proud to stop, even after he was proven wrong.
“The preacher claimed that the world was going to end that day,” I say, my voice slow and calm.
Careful, like I’m talking to a spooked animal rather than a man with a trembling gun aimed directly at my forehead.
“But he was wrong. And whatever he said about X-16, I assure you, he’s wrong about that, too.
You don’t have to listen to him, Ellis.”
His gaze narrows. “He wasn’t wrong,” he says, disappointment heavy in his tone. “That was the beginning of the end.” His lips curve into a slow smile as he nods his head toward X-16. “The beginning of him. But he realized that our Harbinger needs a little nudge to achieve his final form.”
“And you want that?” I’m trying to stall, but also trying to understand. In my childhood, the cult killed themselves when they thought the apocalypse was approaching, but now it seems they want the world to end. What lies is the preacher weaving this time?