He stands before me. Eyes permanently closed and his arms drawn over each other like a dead man lying upright in a casket.
I awake in a sweaty panic, reaching out for Seven but he’s not there. A familiar pain burns my upper arm. I glance over just as an empty needle is removed. Whatever it was filled with is now inmy body. An arm clenches around my throat from behind, and I’m dragged back into the hard seat of the wooden pew.
On the chancel, Seven climbs into a pair of underwear while a man with a black hood holds a gun to the back of his head.
And I don’t know if it’s the strong arm cutting off circulation or whatever they injected me with, but I feel my eyes grow heavy and slip away.
My head thumps as my eyes peel open. I’m in a cold, damp place with stone walls and floors, iron bars, and a toilet buzzing with flies. There’s a stench of musk and urine. The only source of light comes from a hole in the wall of a makeshift prison cell on the opposite side of the hall. I groan as I sit up, my entire body tense from whatever happened since I’ve been asleep.
I cradle my head in my hands, praying for relief from pain and grogginess. The last thing I remember is waking up at the run-down church and now, somehow, I’m in a fucking run-down prison.
“I was starting to think you were dead,” a woman’s voice stirs from behind.
My neck cracks as I turn to her. She sits on the other side of the iron bars, leaning her head against the wall. Her face is covered in dirt and she’s sporting a black eye and a busted lip. Her white floralblouse is just as dirty, looking as if it hasn’t been washed in months.
“Was I not breathing?” I ask sarcastically.
“It’s a figure of speech, but it’s not like I haven’t seen dead people breathe before. So many of us have been dead for years. And just look at us, breathing.”
“Ma’am, I’m going to stop you right there. I’m not a fan of riddles. They irritate me.”
She shifts her gaze to me. “Did you come to watch the big show?”
“Yeah, I figured I’d just mosey on down to the cult farm and take a gander.”
“What kind of person knows a place is a cult and goes anyway?”
“I’m also not a fan of questions.”
“Sorry.” She chuckles under her breath. “We’re not really allowed to ask questions around here. So, when we meet strangers, sometimes we can be overbearing.”
That sounds fucking familiar. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before…”
“Why are you here, then?”
“Got involved with the wrong guy.”
“You’re the other guy?” She shuffles forward, bracing her hands around the prison bars. “You came here with Seven?”
“Yeah, know him?”
“He’s my brother.”
That makes a whole lot of sense. Both share the same inquisitive nature. Both have the same sharpfeatures, the same puppyish look in their eyes. Looking at her makes my heart twist because I fucking miss my little irritating puppy.
“Tell me,” she commands. “Is he okay?”
I answer with a shrug. “The last time I saw him, he had a gun to his head, but from my very limited understanding of you crazy people, I think he’s safe for now. Don’t know how long he’ll be safe, but they were hellbent on making sure his irritating ass came back in one piece.”
“You have to get out of here before the sun goes down three nights from now.”
“Thanks for the tip. The next time the guard lets me out to take a piss, I’ll just slip right on out.”
She reaches through the bars and grabs me by my shirt. “You need to find Seven and get out of here before it’s too late. Once Ascension begins, everyone in this compound is going to die.”
I scoot back, away from her grasp. “Everyone keeps using that word, and I have no idea what it fucking means.”
“We’re all going to meet our maker.”
