Chapter 10 - The Scream
July
Many libraries in Libera are built to preserve the history and knowledge of our people. But my favourite is the Turret.
Erected on one of the smaller islets rising to the west it can only be visited by boat and only for a few hours. At sundown, the sea completely submerges it, turning it into a floating building, surrounded by four dome-shaped structures connected to the Turret by glass corridors.
It hosts a small cafeteria that used to be a deposit for old desks, chairs, and vintage uniforms. That was until one day, someone decided to revamp it and use it as a base for student groups—a very long time ago.
I believe the founders are no longer around, but the Turret still holds a special aura of free speech and independence, with its old students’ mottoes painted on its walls: “A Soul for a Soul” and “Souls Don’t Belong. ”
A place of knowledge and quiet. Until a few days ago, when a swarm of wannabe(es) queens crushed my inner peace under their ankle-killer heels and judgemental looks, bursting inside the cafeteria and unrolling a red carpet of vanity and shallowness for the real Queen—Lucretia Accolti.
“Galen, I swear,” I run a hand through my hair with annoyance after he’s asked me for the third time if I was sure it was Lue I saw in the Turret.
I proceed with my story before he can stop me again, “And that’s not even the oddest part. Also, you promised no more interruptions.”
I point a judging finger at his face, and he sighs, leaning back on his chair and sipping his wine. “Go on, then.”
“She was there with two older girls, judging by that ridiculous senior patch the Academy wants us to wear when out and about with newcomers. They noticed me and quickly hid behind one of the bookshelves. But because I had my earphones on, they believed they could talk freely—ah! Idiots. They didn’t even consider that I could brush my hand against one ear and switch the music off. ”
I close my mouth just long enough to appreciate Galen’s proud face - that’s my clever July! - but he waits for more, distractedly drumming his fingers on the table, keeping his promise not to interrupt me until I’m done talking.
When the waiter comes to clear our table, I use the time to gather the memories of that day in the most concise and best way. “Thanks…” we say in unison with that rigid smile we all smack on our faces while waiting for our table to be crockery-free.
“Where was I? Oh, yes. So, I heard them talking about a new shipment of fabric from Horigos. They went on for something like twenty tedious minutes. But I knew something else was brewing because they were just not in the right place.”
I fiddle with my fork as I fish the details of that day from the back of my mind. Galen nods and scratches his chin. He’s hooked so much that the intensity of his gaze almost makes me feel…Uncomfortable? Odd.
I set the fork down. “You look like you’re trying to dig a hole in my head and get the rest of the story right out.
Anyways,” I look around and behind me, just as a precaution, then lean forward.
“They changed the subject once they were sure nobody was around. I saw Lucretia, through the space between bookshelves, exchanging looks with the other girls, nodding and taking her phone out of her bag.”
“Nudes?” Galen remains unfazed while mocking me, swirling his glass of red, with one hand bracing over the back of his chair.
“Oh, shut up. This is serious.” I stretch over the table and lower my voice, “It was a video. The sound was muffled. But—oh, you should have seen their eyes…”
The waiter returns with our mains and gives me a weird look as we cross our eyes.
“Low blood pressure,” Galen lies to justify my concerned face.
“Sugared water may help. Would you like a glass, Miss?”
“Yes, please…” I reply quickly to send him away. I’ll say sorry later with a good tip.
“I don’t know what they saw, but I heard a scream.
...” I blurt out with one breath, then take a new one so deep my shoulders rise and nearly swallow my neck.
“I didn’t move because I didn’t want them to know I’d heard.
Even when one of them peeped from behind the shelf to check nobody was coming, I started to bob my head pretending I was listening to music. ”
“The waiter’s coming back…” Galen gestures quickly, and I pause my story.
“There you go, Miss, water with sugar and the sides to your mains. Enjoy.” The young man lingers longer than he should and only turns around when I grab the sugary drink and gulp half of it. I bet he wants to be sure I don’t faint halfway through our meal before the bill is on the table.
Galen chuckles as I wrinkle my nose, “That’s enough sugar for the next five months. Anyways…that scream. It was not human. I don’t know how else I can explain it. High-pitched, if it was male or female... I couldn’t say. Lucretia didn’t dare play it again.”
“What about the other people in the Turret? Surely something like that wouldn’t stay a secret for long,” Galen asks, as though my mention of a terrifying scream was just a garnish to my story.
But, if I know him well, he’s probably making a mental list of all the possible reasons behind that scream.
I shake my head. “It was early morning, and nobody was there except us. Besides, Lucretia is not the type of girl who finds it amusing to share scary videos. As she would say, ‘uncoolness is not my vibe’.” The vegetables on my plate have gone cold, but I take a few bites.
“So? What did they say?” Galen presses me. At least one of us has enjoyed his food. His plate is empty, and he’s taking the liberty of nibbling at my potatoes.
I move my chair so that I can face the window, and nobody else in the room but Galen can see my face or read my lips, “Not much, but one of Lue’s friends asked who sent her the video and snatched the phone to stare at the silent screen. I think that girl saw that video before.”
“And?” he asks, attacking my last burnt-fried potato with his fork.
My mouth is dry as if I’ve been talking for hours.
I take a sip of water. “Well, Lucretia refused to reveal her source but said something even more unsettling… She asked her friend if that is what rec... recycling squads are trained for,” I let my words glide and sink.
I’m sure Galen is about to hurry me to pay and leave before Roden pops out of nowhere, raids the restaurant, and takes us away handcuffed because I said the forbidden words.
I give him a minute.
Fine. Maybe two minutes... and a half? Not a word. I’m sure he hasn’t blinked, either. Instead, he’s staring at me, holding up that last burnt potato stabbed on his fork.
“Hey, did you hear—?” I try my best to sound relaxed, waving a hand in his face.
“Is this why you want to go back out there so soon?” He surprises me. I was ready for him to freak out. Again.
“Among other reasons, yes…” I admit.
“Is there more?” He puts the fork down and waves away the waiter who’s coming back to take our empty plates. Very odd, coming from the most polite person I’ve ever met.
“I just,” searching for the right words, I hear my stomach gurgling.
I wasn’t ready for this. “I asked Popplewish to send me out again before all this happened. I wanted to experience something different, to come back with more than a bitter taste for a lost life. You always seem to hold special memories of your Nistarei, and I haven’t had that in—well, never had that really… Never wanted it.”
He nods and mumbles something, toying with the bread crumbs on the tablecloth as if he could find the answer there, and rolling between two fingers a slim silver chain at his neck I’ve never seen before, half hidden under his jumper.
But when he looks back at me, he frowns, “Sof, you okay? Your forehead is sweaty.”
I touch my head, and my fingertips come back shiny with sweat. “I skipped lunch, maybe that’s all. Wine on an empty stomach is never a great combination.” I try a smile, but my stomach lurches, and I press both hands on my belly to muffle the awkward sound.
Galen stands up so quickly that his chair balances on its back legs before tumbling to the floor. “We’d better go…”
My eyes must be watery because Galen’s face wobbles like seaweed in choppy waters. I tried to articulate some words: it’s all fine, I’m fine, no need to go… But they stay in my head, and I hear him calling the waiter over with our bill.
As he drops some cash on the table and helps me to my feet, he whispers close to my ear, “Can you stand?”
My shaky knees answer for me.
“Unfortunately, my friend is not feeling well still… That should cover for your tip as well,” Galen explains calmly, but I can’t ignore the nervous edge in his voice.
“Galen…” I can barely hear my voice.
He shushes me while wrapping an arm around my waist, flipping my right arm over his shoulder. “Just breathe. In and out.”
We’re not far from the entrance, but it feels like an endless path to me. A bell rings in the back of my mind, and a door slams shut.
“Sorry…” It’s the last thing I manage to say before collapsing on the street outside the restaurant.
What comes after is all a smelly blur, a burning throat and sharp pieces of tarmac pressing against the palms of my hands and knees. Galen is talking, crouched next to me, and I try to follow the sound of his voice as he gently lifts me, rubbing my back.
“Sof, listen to me…” I don’t like the hurry in his voice. I’m only drunk, not in danger. “July? Keep your eyes open.”
Is it my mind playing with my senses, or is he trying to move us away from this place as if wolves are chasing us?
I roll my tongue inside my mouth, and the taste makes me retch.
“I think... I’m going to…” I try to push him away, at least to save his nice outfit.
Still, Galen doesn’t let go and holds me tight while dragging me to the other side of the road, towards the wood dividing the urbanised side of the island from the seashore and creating a natural border between the villages of Evemerys and Anagessys.
Galen’s breath is heavy and fast, and when I look up, he’s scanning the area as if waiting for someone to come. His jaw tenses. “Who else did you tell about what happened in the Turret?”
Odd question, given that I’m probably suffering the effects of some sort of food poisoning. I only have the energy to answer with monosyllables: “Just…you...” I dig my nails into his jumper desperately, trying to stay upright.
At the same moment, his phone rings, and he snatches it out of his pocket as if it were on fire, answering with a chaotic stream of words. “Good timing, I need help. Now. The woods…” he pauses to scan the line of trees before us, “I can make it in fifteen minutes. Ten. If she doesn’t pass out.”
Pass out. There have been times when Galen had described me using that verb, like the morning after a too-happy night out. But he’d done it laughing and pointing at me while munching on a box of doughnuts. Now, it’s not the same. He’s afraid and worried. His voice trembles when he says my name.
I hear a click, and the call ends. “You’ll be fine, Sof… stay with me.”
I’m sorry. I only manage to picture the words in my mind. I shape them big and bold, thick and flashing. Maybe he will read them behind my eyes. I hope he will quickly because I’m too tired, and my eyelids are giving up.