Oppression (25 page)

“So this is my fault now?”

“Well, it’s not all my fault.”

“Hey,” William interrupted. “Didn’t Rachel and Paul leave after us?”

“Yeah,” Nics answered.

“So call them,” Sam barked.

“Why don’t
you
call them,” she shot back.

“I’ll call,” William said, letting me in on a subtle eye roll. “Or maybe I won’t. Does anyone get a signal out here?”

After three noes, it was decided that we would just wait for the next car. After all, it was sure to be someone going in the same direction.

William shut off the lights to save the battery, and we all got out to wait in the dark, Nics and Sam making a point to put as much room between each other as possible. With her sulking on the hood of the car and Sam propped up against the slightly raised rear bumper, William and I settled down on the ground mid-distance between the two, trying not to take sides. Without the hope of headlights in the distance and not much conversation to partake in, it was easy to listen intently to the sound of the night. I didn’t dare break the tension between the three of them. Crickets chirped their hypnotic songs and the wind carried a steady hum in and out of the dry grass and rustling sagebrush. In the distance, something set off the balance, a foreign resonance that cut through the rest. I focused in on it, trying to pick it out. Its uneven pattern seemed too controlled for nature, unnaturally deliberate. The broken pieces of murmured sound could only be one thing—voices.

“What?” William spoke through the stillness, noticing I was suddenly alert.

“Shhh,” I hushed him. “Do you hear that?”

I had caught Sam and Nics’s attention, who played only mildly interested. The voices were getting clearer, coming closer, but I was still reluctant to give us up. What kind of people wandered around out here at night? People who didn’t want to be seen.

“I think I can hear something,” William whispered.

“What?” Nics asked, moving in to make sense of the commotion.

This time William shushed her, and Sam was soon to join in. We all listed intently as the voices became distinct. There were two of them, a man and a woman. It was obvious he was older and tougher, with a thick rough voice like a television mobster. Hers was just as angry, but younger and with the hint of a dramatic tone that had yet to be stripped away by age.

“Oh don’t give me that, Sal. How many jobs have we done together?” The words were clear, but distant. I could just barely make them out. “I can see right through you, and you don’t like it any better than I do. You may look tough, but no one likes killing people, not unless they’ve gone nutzo.”

“I know,” he responded, a little exasperated, “but what can we do?”

“Nothing,” she answered matter-of-factly, “and that’s what really burns me.”

The conversation hit a lull, making it hard to tell how much closer they were getting. Luckily, the car had hit the ditch just in front of an overgrown patch of sagebrush, giving us enough cover to not be seen. If they had been approaching from the opposite direction, they would have spotted us immediately.

“You know, I shouldn’t have to drag some poor sap and his wife a mile into the brush. That’s your job.”

“Hey,” his gruff voice rattled defensively. “I thought you were saying it shouldn’t be nobody’s job.”

“Yeah, but especially not mine. I access the mind. I give you the information you need to know, and that should be it. Dead bodies are your jurisdiction.”

“Well, I hadta get ridda the car. It ain’t no piece a cake tuggin a car through this brush neither.”

“Last year there was nothing like this. I was actually excited when they gave me the assignment this time. I thought, finally, something easy and clean. Give my conscience a break, right? Little did I know, I’d be luring innocent people off the road just so the community can have a little party.”

“Eh, quit your whining. You’re just mad ‘cause we hafta take the first shift. Here comes another one.”

A pair of headlights gleamed in the distance, making the pit of my stomach clench up with tension. Was I about to witness a murder here? I watched anxiously as the car crept closer, and aside from William’s comforting hand in mine, I was completely unaware of the three around me. Before the car was close enough for us to make out any sign of its make or model, the woman spoke words that put me at ease.

“They’re Descendants,” she said.

“Well, what else? At least keep me entertained,” he requested.

“Um, it’s a boy and a girl,” she answered, playing a game that they had obviously been using to pass the time. “He’s of Hermes. She’s of Iris. Ages eighty-four and eighty-eight. They’re dating, pretty in love actually. They’re both flyers so the car ride has been rough.”

As the car came nearer, none of us dared move at the risk of being seen by the two lookouts. We chose to watch it roll by only to see it skid to a stop a few feet down the road.

“Why are they stoppin’?” the man asked.

“It’s Paul and Rachel,” Sam whispered.

The three of us waited in terror for the woman’s response, knowing full well she could read their minds, which would ultimately give away our position.

“Uh . . . there’s some . . .” the woman’s voice sounded surprised.

“Well?” he urged.

“They are picking up their friends who are crouching in front of their car by the road.”

“Really? I didn’t see nothin’. How’d you miss ‘em?”

“Well, excuse me. I was burying Mr. Smith. Where were you?”

“Gettin ridda the car,” he growled. “Can they hear us?”

It was apparent she considered her answer before delivering it.

“No, they can’t hear us. Let them go.”

“Hey,” Rachel yelled from the open door. “What are you guys doing out here?”

“Nics here drove us into a ditch,” William yelled back, keeping the scene free of suspicion.

“Me?” Nics whined.

“Can you pull us out?” William shouted.

Nics and I stayed behind, in the cover of the brush, while the boys went to work. Both of us still listened carefully for any continuation of the previous conversation, but the two stayed silent and so did we.

“Come on,” Sam beckoned when they were finished. “Let’s go.”

I had never been so eager to leave somewhere before in my life. As soon as Sam said the word, I jumped to my feet and dove into the front seat. Even as my heart skipped wildly in my chest, making me sweat through the chilled air, part of me wanted to look back, to stare the murderers in the face and tell them,
I know what you’ve done
. When I turned my head, I immediately wished I hadn’t. The man stayed hidden in the shadows, but a familiar face was illuminated in the red glow of the brake lights. Our eyes met, and I went rigid. The woman was Kara.

The four of us drove in silence at first, following the taillights in front of us closely.

“So I guess that answered your question, Elyse,” Sam said breaking the silence. “Some security.”

“I’m sorry I asked,” I said with genuine regret.

Their conversation moved on to something casual and non-threatening, but I wasn’t paying attention. Instead, I drifted off, contemplating their reaction to what was nothing less than a murder confession. The thought made my mouth sour with disgust. How could they act so nonchalant? It seemed so easy for them to accept it as unfortunate, as though nothing had happened, but it wasn’t easy for me. Kara’s face was burned into my vision. Even my open eyes couldn’t escape it. I pressed my forehead to the cold glass window and tried to force her out of my mind. This was the second time she’d murdered a human, that I knew of. The truth buckled in on me, folding me up like thin paper until I felt small and vulnerable. No matter what sort of relationship we had, her first priority was to The Council, whether she wanted that or not. She could never be a friend, not when what she stood for would always be an enemy to me. William was right, things were complicated with her. She wasn’t on our side, and I shuddered when I thought of what she was truly capable of.

“You okay?” William asked gently, noticing my change in mood.

“Yeah, just a little shaken, I guess.”

Clearly he hadn’t realized it was Kara who was out there. Her voice was different, lower and tough. I had only recognized it when I saw her face. I opened my mouth to tell him, but my breath caught in my throat. It would ruin his night. I took a deep breath, holding in my secret.

“Well, we’re almost there. Believe me, the festival will take your mind off of it.”

“Yeah,” I said without agreement. I wasn’t sure if it would take my mind off of it, or if I even wanted it to. Maybe it was my duty to think about it, to remember it. Nobody else would.

“Finally,” Nics sighed from the back, and at that moment, I saw exactly what it was she recognized. The overgrown road curved one last time, bringing into view the mouth of a cave settled at the base of a rocky mountainside. Its opening was visible only by a soft glow of light that spilled out from somewhere deep inside.

“We’re going in there?” I asked in disbelief. I hadn’t expected a cave, but where else could we be headed?

“Yep,” Sam answered. He leaned forward to look at me. “Not what you expected, huh?”

“Where is the light coming from?” I asked before realizing it was probably the other cars. I was wrong.

“Mr. Williamson,” said Sam. “He’s descendant of Helios. He helps with light every year. It’s sort of an honor to be on the committee. People get all excited about it.”

“Unless, of course, you’re given the task of murdering those who get in the way,” I said with cold bitterness in my voice.

The car went silent for at least half a minute, and I could feel the raised eyebrows glaring at me uncomfortably.

“Sorry,” I mumbled before anyone had the chance to speak, my cheeks burning out of embarrassment. “I should have kept that to myself.”

“It’s okay. I guess we’re just . . . used to it,” Nics said.

Used to it?
As if that was an excuse. I couldn’t hold back my reaction.

“That’s crazy,” I let out, swinging around to face all of them. “How could you ever be okay with something like that?”

“It doesn’t mean we’re okay with it,” Sam added quickly. The worried look on his face was hard to combat. I didn’t want him to think I thought badly of him.

“But you live with it?” I clarified. “I mean humans are just dispensable, and everyone just looks the other way? How did things get like this?”

“Not a day goes by that I don’t ask myself the same question,” William said with a grim tone. His lips tightened into a line as he looked at me. “Welcome to life on the other side.”

With that, we entered the cave, into a world that I now had to call my own, a world where there was no turning back.

25.

THE ROAD WAS not paved, but the dirt was smooth, and it cut through the mountain with ease. Once we were in the tunnel, our headlights washed away the subtle glow that had led us here, and we followed the single path as it led us deeper underground. I’m not sure what I expected the mystery light to be, maybe a miniature sun or an illuminated Mr. Williamson, but I never would have imagined what we saw when we turned the last corner. It was too simple, too ordinary. Extravagant, yes, but nothing like what I’d been thinking.

The road was lined with trees and elegantly designed streetlights from the ‘40s, as if, despite the general cave-like atmosphere, we had driven into the past. Wooden signs protruded from the mountain walls and hung like storefront advertisements: “Welcome to Lenaia.” An attendant dressed head to foot in 1940s attire was waiting for us at the end of the entryway. He had fallen asleep in his chair, with his newsboy cap tipped down over his eyes and his long lean body stretched out in front of him.

“Hey,” William shouted out the window. The boy jumped to his feet, defensive and alert, only to meet William’s greeting with a smile. “How’d you get stuck with this gig, Charlie?” Obviously they knew each other.

“Volunteered,” he answered, walking toward the car. “Hey guys.” He tipped his head up acknowledging the rest of us.

“Why? You’re going to miss the birth of our existence, you know?” Nics said, peering through the two front seats.

“The what?” I whispered into William’s ear, but all he had to offer was the same loose-ended response—“You’ll see”—his careful grin testing the limitations of my curiosity.

“How’s avoiding an ex-girlfriend for an excuse?” Charlie answered.

“Yeah, that’s good enough for me,” Sam laughed.

“You’ve never had a girlfriend,” Nics joked with careless insensitivity. “How would you know?” I saw Sam’s face flinch at the intentional jab.

“Still,” William recovered for him, “it can’t be easy being on Jillian’s bad side. Isn’t she of Dolos?”

“Yeah,” Charlie answered with a regretful look. “I’m trying to just stay out of her way.” He tapped the hood of the car, wrapping up the conversation. “Well, you guys are on your own from here on out. Grab your packs out of the trunk, and follow the road to the right. You know the drill.”

“You got it, boss,” William said, tossing him the keys through the window.

William insisted on carrying everything he’d packed for the both of us, so being the only one with a free hand, I turned and waved goodbye to Charlie.

The trees grew thicker the deeper we went, pressing their burly branches against the walls of the tunnel, as if they were bearing the load of the heavy mountain. The gentle roar, that could only be the sound of a thousand jumbled voices, grew louder with every step, until at last the source came into view like a painted picture come to life.

I stopped dead in my tracks. “Oh my God.”

William, Nics, and Sam all had their eyes locked on me, and satisfied grins gave away their enjoyment in watching my reaction.

The trees that lined the tunnel were pale in comparison to what stood before me. The space had opened up into an enormous cavern that was filled with nothing less than a fully matured deciduous forest. The overgrown trees were gigantic with trunks the size of tractor tires and roots that protruded from the ground that were as high as I stood. The branches tangled themselves into each other, creating a canopy of leaves that showered down like slow falling snow covering the ground. The floor of the forest was carpeted with an array of green plants, and dirt paths provided a way around the trees.

Despite the magnificence of the phenomenon, people were everywhere, acting as if such a scene was nothing to make a fuss about and could easily exist inside the hollow space of a mountain. To the left I could just make out a clearing where groups had started to gather and sit. To the right, scattered throughout the trees, were countless tents, and Descendants casually made their way in and out of them as they came and went.

“Come on,” William said with a grin that made me blush. The others had moved on ahead while I stood gawking in awe. “We’ve got to get to our spot.”

My gaping mouth curled into a smile, and I ran ahead to catch his hand.

“This is amazing,” I beamed.

“Yeah, they did a great job this year.”

“How are we going to find a spot though? Tents are everywhere.”

“I use the same spot every year. Nobody goes there. It’s a little secluded.”

“Perfect,” I said with a suggestive smirk. He laughed it off, and kept moving.

As we walked through the crowds, I noticed the groups of eyes that turned my way, and realized the rumors must have spread.

“Ignore them,” William whispered, as he glared at those who stared.

I chose to focus on the scenery. Large trees and flowered plants sprung up from the dusty floor thick into the distance. I wasn’t sure how far it went, but eventually the greenery tapered off, and the surface of the rock walls began to show smooth and misshapen like large sheets of petrified wood. Vines crawled along the uneven planes of the earthy stone, and the trees dissipated.

“Do you like it?” he asked, clasping his hand tighter around mine.

I swung our arms back and forth. “Of course,” I answered.

“I just thought you’d like the privacy seeing as you’re apparently the talk of the town, and it’s nice to have a place to run off to when it gets too crazy. We can move closer to everyone if you want.”

I smiled. “No, it’s great.”

“Good.” He moved toward me. I caught a hint of his crisp cool scent as he held me close. “So,” he said with a slight blush, “I uh . . . made something for you. Lenaia is sort of our version of Christmas.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” I complained. I had no gifts for him.

“I didn’t want to spoil the surprise,” he answered, handing me the wrapped square.

“It’s a CD,” he said, excited as I opened it. “All our stuff, you know. I added a few new ones, too.”

“Thanks,” I said, unable to show how truly happy it made me.

“And, I know you like poetry,” he added, “so I printed out my favorite. It reminds me of you.”

He waited quietly, judging my expression as I unfolded the paper and read his message to me.

Sonnet CVII

Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul

Of the wide world dreaming on things to come,

Can yet the lease of my true love control,

Supposed as forfeit to a confined doom.

The mortal moon hath her eclipse endured,

And the sad augurs mock their own presage;

Incertainties now crown themselves assured,

And peace proclaims olives of endless age.

Now with the drops of this most balmy time,

My love looks fresh, and Death to me subscribes,

Since, spite of him, I’ll live in this poor rhyme,

While he insults o’er dull and speechless tribes:

And thou in this shalt find thy monument,

When tyrants’ crests and tombs of brass are spent.

- William Shakespeare

“Happy Lenaia,” he said, apparently pleased with the fact that I was bright red. “If you can, forget about the prophecy and everything else.” He sighed and reached out to touch my cheek, and my eyes lifted. No one had ever looked at me the way he did. “Try to enjoy it, okay? This might be the only time you get to.”

I smiled and nodded, knowing he was right. By the next one, I might be dead.

“You’re too perfect,” I said, hugging him long and hard, trying to push away those thoughts. We kissed only briefly, a soft brush of the lips. “So, Lenaia gets crazy, huh?”

Just at that moment, the roar of a crowd sounded from within the depths of the forest.

He shrugged and laughed. “Yep.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” I teased.

“Too bad. We’ve got to go meet Nics and Sam. They’re probably waiting for the show to start like everyone else.”

“Show?” I asked.

“The birth of our existence. They re-enact it every year. It’s sort of a tradition. You’ll see.”

Without warning, the sound of trumpets burst through the trees, breaking the delicate silence between us and prompting the distant masses to cheer.

He grinned with excitement. “It’s starting,” he said, and before I knew it, he had me by the hand racing in and out of the trees.

“What about my stuff?” I yelled from an arm’s length behind.

“Forget it.” I heard the words from somewhere ahead of me.

As we rushed toward the sound of people, kicking up the dirt path behind us, the smell of wood and earth filling the air, I realized for the first time how truly fulfilling Descendant life could be. Finally, all the sadness of my past had been washed away by the present, and although an ominous blackness lurked somewhere in my future, I could not feel the weight of it now. All I felt was excitement.

I could hear an announcer’s voice getting closer as we approached. Sporadic bursts of laughter and grouped applause answered the man’s witticisms, and I could tell they were just through the brush ahead. The crowd came into view as we reached the precipice of the sunken arena, a sea of people filling an enormous ancient Greek amphitheater that dipped into the floor of the cave like an empty swimming pool. I followed their eyes, all seemingly glued to a single place far below, center stage, and I found the announcer. He was not in a tux as I had imagined, but in classic Greek garb, draped in white cloth that partially covered his bare chest and hung to his feet. I felt the urge to stop and watch as the anticipation emanated from the air like an erratic wind, but William tugged at my hand, which was still locked in his, and we took our seats next to Sam and Nics.

“Tonight is no ordinary night,” the man’s voice echoed with enthusiasm throughout the theatre. “After all, tonight does not even exist. How could it exist before the very birth of your existence? But fear not, for that all begins now.”

At that, the place went pitch black. I thought Nics was the culprit, but a strange humming sound seemed to be growing slowly louder all around me. When I heard William humming next to me, I realized it was the people who were creating the noise. It grew louder and louder until eventually the crowd sounded nearly out of control with hoots and hollers. Then it clicked. They were creating Chaos, the first presence in Greek mythology.

Just as I thought the crowd was about to explode, they yelled in unison, FIAT LUX, and the lights snapped back on like someone had flicked a switch.

“What was that?” I asked William.

“‘Let there be light’ in Latin,” he laughed. “Get used to it. There is a lot more audience participation from here on out.”

“From the primordial void we all emerge, but we have no earth to stand upon,” the announcer added as he began to float into the air, “without Gaia.”

The show was magnificent, unlike anything I had ever seen, taking us through the stories of the gods, some very different than what I had learned of in books. William whispered all the audience parts into my ear before they came so I could yell the cues out with the crowd. It was like watching live theater infused with spectacular special effects that had me questioning all I thought I knew about science and history. It was amazing.