Apocalypsis: Book 3 (Exodus) (22 page)

“That’s a baby down there,” said Winky, sounding a little unhinged herself.  “She’s got a fucking
baby
down there, Bryn.”

“Yeah, I know,” I said, searching the Lost Girl’s face, looking for her to telegraph her next move.  Her body language was all wrong.  She looked like innocence personified, dressed all in white with her little-girl headband on her stupid head, but her lack of tears and grossly freaked out expression made her seem dangerous and downright evil.  My only sense of relief came from the fact that I saw no weapons on her and no signs of any ability to take me in hand-to-hand combat; but I remained on the alert nonetheless.

“It’s his,” she said, talking low, as if someone might hear us.  She was nearly screeching her whisper though, giving it an eerie quality that set my nerves on edge.  “He came.  He came in here and I was sleeping.  He … he … did that thing to me.  And now
this
is here.”  She gestured to the space below her parents’ cabinet.  “You have to take it away. 
Kill it
.  Make it go.”  She put her arms around herself and hugged hard, moaning a little before continuing.  “It’s ugly.  It cries all the time.  It’s not human.”

A lightbulb went on in my head.  She’d been damaged.  Way too damaged for me to appreciate or even understand.  And she had this baby down there to take care of. 
A baby
.  I couldn’t fathom the torture it had to be for her in her current state.  Revulsion and pity warred inside me.

“That canner guy
raped
her and she had his
baby?”
whispered Winky, disgust in her voice.  “Oh, that is
so
messed up.  I can’t even … holy
shit
, Bryn.  What’re we gonna do?”  Winky came up to stand beside me, gaping open-mouthed at the poor girl in front of us.

“How old is it … is the baby?” I asked.

She shrugged, looking off to the side, almost distractedly.  “I don’t know.  The days go into weeks and weeks go into months and months go into years and years go into decades and people leave and people die and the world ends and we get left alone and terrible, terrible things happen and nothing will ever, ever be alright again …”

I took a couple steps forward and picked her arm up by the wrist, gently shaking it a couple times to wake her out of her nightmare.  “Hey!  Stop that,” I said.

She turned her head to look at me.  The blank stare there was freaking me out even more than her soliloquy had.

“Stop what?”

I shook my head and blinked my eyes a couple times in frustration, trying to get her to make a connection with me that wasn’t totally in another world somewhere.  “Tell me how old your baby is.”

“What baby?” she asked, smiling sweetly.

I squeezed her arm, hoping it would help her focus.  “The baby you have down in there,” I said, gesturing with a nod towards the stairs under the cabinet behind her.

“It’s not a baby,” she said, frowning.  Then she got angry, her words taking on a vicious tone.  “It’s a demon that needs to be
killed.”
  She shook me off and grabbed my arm, a fierce look on her face, spittle flying as she growled out her next words.  “You’re looking for a boy.  A tall one with a German accent.  I know where he is.  You kill that demon down there, and I will tell you where you can find him.”

I grabbed her hand that had wrapped itself uncomfortably around my wrist and pried it off, stepping back away from her.  I was so angry, I was liable to punch her in the throat and gouge out her eyes.  I needed to put some distance between us so I could think properly.

Winky spoke first.  “We aren’t killing your damn baby.  It’s innocent.  It didn’t do anything to you or us.  Now tell us where Bodo is, you crazy bitch!”

I felt her moving to go after the girl, so I stuck my arm out to block her progress.  “No.  Not like this.  We can’t beat it out of her - she’s a mom.”

Winky stopped pressing on my arm.  “Oh, shit.  Yeah.  I didn’t think of it that way.”

I held my hands up in supplication.  “Listen, um, sweetie …” I was taking a page out of LaShay’s book now.  “ … We just want to help you out as best we can and find our friend.  That’s all.  No one needs to be killed or murdered.”  I took a step towards her, ignoring the cries that came up from the stairs again.  “You’re a mom.  You can’t have your baby murdered.  It’s not right.”

“But it’s not a baby,” she whispered, tears now finally coming down her cheeks.

I was so relieved to see those tears; they gave me hope that she wasn’t totally broken into a million irretrievable pieces.

“It
is
a baby.  It’s your precious baby.  Just like you were your mom’s baby about … fifteen years ago.”

“I’m seventeen.”

“Okay, then, seventeen years ago.”

“But my mother wasn’t forced to have me.  By a demon.  My father wasn’t a demon.”

“No, she wasn’t … and no he wasn’t a demon, I’m sure.  But the rape you suffered doesn’t mean the baby isn’t a human being … a tiny baby that needs your love.”  I stepped closer and took her hands in mine.  “Is it a girl or a boy?”

“It’s a boy,” she whispered, “just like the monster.”  She smiled, nearly glowing with happiness.  “That’s why you have to kill it!”  She said it with such hope in her voice, it made me think she had been pretending to be a little sane in the hopes that she’d be able to convince me to carry out the murder of her child.

I jerked her hands down once to try and break through to her conscience.  “I
told
you.  I’m
not
going to kill your baby.  Please tell me where Bodo is.  I’m begging you.”

She tilted her head to the side, her face a mask of innocence.  “Isn’t that fun?”

I furrowed my brow, confused.  “Fun?  What’s fun?”

She straightened her head back up and fixed me with an evil grin.  “That we both want something so bad, we’re willing to beg for it.”  She jerked her hands away from mine and took a step back.  “Kill the demon below and you will find your
boyfriend.
”
She spat the word out and then jerked her head back, reaching her hands up slowly to readjust her headband.  “I’ll meet you downstairs.  I have to go feed it.”  She paused halfway down the stairs, her voice coming up from below.  “Oh, and by the way … did I mention you’d better hurry?  Yeah.  Your boyfriend needs you.  Before things get ugly.”

That did it.  I took off after her, ready to wring her neck, baby or no baby.

Winky grabbed me by the back of my shirt, halting my murderous rampage.  “No!” she said in a low tone.  “That’s exactly what she wants.  Don’t go into a trap.”

I stopped fighting her and thought about it for a second. 
She’s right. Be smart.  Think about your opponent.  Read her signs.  Measured strikes.  Measured reactions
.  My dad’s voice was coaching me again.  It warmed me with confidence and the sense that he was somehow, some way, communicating his love for me. 
This is going to work out.  I am going to find Bodo, and I am most definitely not going to be murdering an innocent baby over it
.

Winky and I moved side-by-side to the edge of the stairs.  An actual lightbulb lit up the stairwell, its yellow gleam casting a freaky glow over the concrete walls.  A portrait hung across from the light, the glare on the glass not enough to obscure the image of the perfect American family.  One father, one mother, one teenage girl, and one slightly younger, teenage boy.

***

Winky leaned towards me and whispered.  “She had a brother!”

I nodded.  “She probably ate him,” I said over my shoulder as I descended the stairs.  I didn’t care if this girl could hear me anymore; maybe I could make her mad enough to snap out of her fantasy world.  At least then I might be able to count on her acting like a somewhat normal person whose moves I could predict and defend against.

“And she’s got electricity down here.  How is that possible?”

“I have no idea.  Maybe her brother’s alive and she makes him ride a stationary bike to generate the it.”

Winky pulled my shoulder back so she could see my face, giving me a
what-the-hell
look.  I motioned with my hand, acting as if I were patting something down in the air, trying to signal that she needed to just chill out and go with my flow.

She nodded and let my shoulder go.  We went down a few more steps.

“Hey, Lost Girl!” I said.  My voice sounded like it was in a tin can.  “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Brittney,” came the answer from below.  The acoustics told me she was in a small room that had some form of sound proofing in it. 
That baby could probably be crying its eyes out down here and no one would hear a peep above if the cabinet were closed.

We emerged at the bottom of the stairs into a decent-sized space, about the size of half my bedroom back home.  I’d heard of panic rooms and safe houses before, but this one was something else.  There was a cot in the center of the room and three walls were lined with shelves full of food.  The back wall was a door.  Brittney sat on the cot, nursing her baby.

“Daaaamn,” said Winky, letting out a low whistle.  “Do you see all that food?”

Brittney had every conceivable canned good, lined up in rows on the shelves.  She had only cleaned out a couple of them, but had plenty more.

“What’s behind that door?” I asked, pointing at the far end of her hideout.

Brittney shrugged nonchalantly, looking out into space.  Her baby’s pale-white, delicate, tiny hand was resting on her breast.  My heart spasmed painfully to see it. 
It’s so perfect and itty bitty and … not demon-like.  How could she possibly even consider killing it?

“Go ahead and look if you want,” she said emotionlessly.

I wanted to do that, but the vision of this baby right here in front of me almost close enough to touch had me frozen in place.  Winky moved around me and walked over to the door, her soft moccasins padding along the concrete floor.

“Wait!” I said as her hand reached for the doorknob.  “Is there anything that could hurt Winky behind that door?”

Brittney frowned.  “What’s a Winky?”

“I’m a Winky, stupid.”

“Oh.  That’s a dumb name.”

“And Brittney’s oh so interesting and original,” mocked Winky.  “Can I go in the room without getting killed or what?”

“Sure.”

My eyes widened as Winky slowly opened the door.  I think we were both waiting for an explosion or something, because she flinched a little, and I grabbed the railing near the last stair where I was still standing.

Nothing happened.  Winky stuck her head in a second later and said, “It’s too dark in here.  I can’t see anything.”

“Turn on the light, stupid,” said Brittney.

Winky whipped around, mimicking her.  “
Turn on the light, stupid
.  Hey … crazy bitch! … Just in case you haven’t noticed, there are no lights anymore.”

“Light switch.  Left side,” said Brittney.  “And don’t call me crazy.”

Winky turned back around and ran her hand on the inside wall of the room.  I heard a
click
and an interior light went on, illuminating the space.

“Holy shit-on-a-stick, Bryn.  You’ve
got
to come see this.”

I stopped worrying about Brittney sneak-attacking us since she was so busy feeding her baby, and strode across the room to stand at Winky’s side.  My eyes were seeing things inside the room but my brain just didn’t want to let me believe it.

“Is that …?”

Winky nodded.  “Yeah.  It is.  Food, water, a sink, a toilet,
electricity
… ”

I continued the list.  “…Candles, handguns, rifles, machine guns, bullets, knives, axes …”  I turned back and looked at Brittney.  “Was your dad a doomsday freak or what?”

“He believed in being prepared.  He always says,
Luck is where opportunity meets preparation.  And I plan for us to be very, very lucky
.’”  She laughed bitterly.  “None of us came out on
that
end of the deal, I’m afraid.”  She looked down at her baby but continued speaking to me.  “So, do you want to know where the German boy is, or not?  You can use any weapon in there you want on this thing.  I don’t care.  Just so long as you take it away from me when you’re done.  I don’t even want to look at it.”  She smiled absently as she toyed with the baby’s tiny fingers.

I shook my head at the vision. 
Creepy level, ten out of ten.

I reached deep inside me for the courage I needed to get this all over with, leaving Winky in the other room and sitting down on the cot next to Brittney.  I was unable to stop my hand from reaching out to touch the baby’s little one.  It was soft, covered with the finest fuzzy down, and the delicate skin gave with just the slightest pressure.  I could feel its teeny bone structure beneath.

“Why on earth would you ever want any harm to come to this little thing?” I asked.  I’d never had the opportunity to hold a baby before, but I really wanted to now.  Part of me was curious what it would be like, and another part of me was worried she was going to injure it.

She frowned.  “It’s not a baby.  I told you that,” she said, sounding angry again.

“It cries like one.  It eats like one.  It sure feels like one.”

“Well it’s
not
.”

“What is she using for diapers?” asked Winky from the other room.  “There are no diapers in this place.  It’s like … the only thing missing.”

I frowned, sniffing the air near the baby.  I didn’t smell anything but very dirty hair, and that was coming from Brittney, not the infant.

“I use cloth diapers.  The demon’s father found them.  I wash them every day, every day, every day.”  She smiled bitterly and then sighed.  “Demons need diapers.” She squeezed the baby hard and it let out a pitiful, mewling cry.

Her words and reaction chilled me.  I held my hands out.  “Can I hold him?  Please?”

She stuck her finger down by the baby’s mouth and removed it from her breast, handing the bundle over to me casually … carelessly, even.

I juggled him uncomfortably for a couple of nerve-wracking seconds, trying to get a good grip on his wobbly form.  He burped and smiled at me.