Winter's Fury - Volume Two of The Saga of the Twelves (42 page)

He had turned away and
said, “Eat.”

When Christina stepped
toward him, yelling, fiercely imploring he pay attention, he had
rounded on her. His face had frozen for the first time. Every time
either of them had laid eyes upon his ghastly visage, it had been
in a constant state of flux.

Not this time.

The fifteen-year-old had
stared up into eyes that did not match. Its' features were
half-made from female into male as if he burned from one gender to
another. His hair had been no more than stubble. His ears became
unformed holes gaping at either side of his head.

Through one delicate and
one harsh lip he had said: “Learn you place, little plaything. You
will not last long in the midst of the Seeker. If you do not, and
soon… you will perish.”

The words had been a
warning, but his expression spelled nothing but murder. Christina
had scurried back toward Marissa. She shielded the smaller female
with her body, fearful the terrible man would charge them
both.

In the end, he did not. He
just stood there, glowering, towering over them like they were so
many insects. He kicked a soiled bag of
something
at them, spun upon his
heel and left.

Now, as the thick door
opened, the Man-with-the-Melting-Face appeared again. He used his
shoulder to make headway. His hands full with an all-too-familiar
bundle and yet another sack of “food” cinched in the crook of his
elbow. He put his substantial weight onto the barrier to
accommodate his massive frame, forcing it wider. As usual, whatever
he wore it remained concealed beneath his massive robe covering him
from neck to toe. Only the front of his rugged boots stuck out
beneath the garment’s hem. He had pulled back the hood and cowl. It
had bunched along the line of his mantle, his eyes narrowing as his
gaze fell upon the two recoiling females.

His ever-fluctuating orbs
settled upon Christina. “I have spoken to the Seeker of the
supplies you say you must have and she agrees. You need to maintain
a degree of cleanliness or you otherwise might spoil.” He chuckled
with wicked glee at the thought of the young girls before him
withering upon the vine. Because they couldn’t keep their private
parts clean of their own excretions. The situation was ridiculous.
To him, humans were so primitive.

Christina wilted before
each word. She huddled against the smaller form of Marissa, trying
to get away from the creature’s horrid voice. She had not missed
the sexual undertone, and it sickened her to the point of
vomiting.

He chortled for a few more
seconds. “As you can see, I have brought another of the Lesser.” He
bent to place the bundle upon the floor.

Marissa realized it was
much smaller than the one comprising Christina. Whoever this was,
he or she was young.

“
Teach her what you have
learned. Explain that she must eat or I will force it upon her.
Make sure she understands her importance in the eyes of the Seeker.
In this you cannot fail. Or, I will pull the skin from your hides
to make sure you do. Is that understood?”

It was the most he had
said to them at one time. Both girls felt overwhelmed by the sheer
amount of syllables tumbling forth. It was all the more difficult
because the continuous flow of harm they conveyed.

“
Here
are the provisions necessary to keep your tiny bodies clean.” His
glare was somehow lecherous. He tossed the over-sized sack between
the young women and the girl wrapped up in the many-patched quilt.
His face was that of a Scandinavian supermodel. Seeing a male
expression exude forth from it was as confounding as it was
nauseating. “Make sure you eat. Make sure you stay
fresh
. The Seeker needs
you to be as hale as possible for the Rite.” He made for the door,
pausing there to look back at them. “Primitive,” he said, his face
male once again – African, age-old. He was bald.

Then, he was
gone.

Marissa moved
first.

Christina was too
overwrought. All she could manage was to sit side-saddle-like upon
the floor. She supported her weight on the palms of her hands, her
eyes peering at the unyielding floor before her.

The smaller girl
crab-walked over to the bundle on the floor. She hesitated for a
moment as she tried to discern the “head” from the “foot”. Then she
placed her hands upon the blanket and pulled it aside. Her eyes
widened when she saw the long, straight hair complete with the
bangs. The familiar part down the middle was there as well. And, so
were the deep brown orbs, the round face and puffy cheeks – the
features of her long-time friend Alicia Provencio.

She was a neighborhood
girl, like Elena and Mikalah, who she had known since Kindergarten.
And now, she too was here with them, trapped in the same long-lost
bomb shelter alongside her.

Her sharp intake of breath
brought Christina scrambling forth. “Is she ok?” she asked,
tentative, uncertain of what she would see, trepidatious of the
result.

“
She’s fine,” replied
Marissa, pulling more of the coverlet from her friend. “I know
her.”

Christina’s hand came to
her mouth without thought. “What are the odds…?”

“
I don’t think this has
anything to do with chance,” mumbled the younger girl, her face
pained.

The teen’s face bunched in
question. She turned her head toward Marissa, but stayed silent as
the other continued to speak.

“
She isn’t the first of my
friends that this happened to.”

The admission stunned
Christina back onto her haunches.

Marissa’s tiny face
swiveled toward her. “Isn’t the same true for you?”

The older girls’ eyes
danced about as the thought sunk in, as she began to relive the
events of the past week. She thought of the shopping she had done
with her mother over the previous weekend. She recalled the final
three days of school, helping around the house in preparation for
Thanksgiving. Then... the Event had occurred.

Anthony!
Her eyes bulged out of her head. She had known
someone who was in the same situation as she! Just like Marissa had
suggested!

Her eyes found those of
her fellow prison-mate. “How did you know?”

A hard smile crept across
the nine-year-olds’ face. “Seeing Alicia here, with us, was all I
needed. After my friends, Elena and Mikalah, were taken, and then
me, and now her – it’s all pretty simple. We all live a few blocks
from each other. We’ve all been friends since we started
school…”

“
Wait. Do your friends
Elena and Mikalah have a brother named Anthony?” Christina felt
pure dread leech upon her soul when the young girl nodded in
affirmation. “Oh my god…”

Below them, Alicia began
to stir; her head lolling from side to side as consciousness began
to return to her.

“
Whatever’s going on it’s
not over, not by a long shot.”

The older female scooted
closer. “How do you know?”

“
I have a lot of
friends…”

“
But, you don’t think -?”
began Christina, but never got the chance to finish.

From the ground, Alicia
screamed. She brought her arms up to protect herself, using the
heels of her shoes to skid away from the two others. “Stay away
from me!” she yelled, digging her feet into the ground as hard as
she could. Its inflexible hardness wore away at the rubber of her
sneakers, leaving long streaks in her wake.

“
Alicia, stop! It’s me,
Alicia! It’s Marissa!”

The stocky girl continued
to squirm away on her back, edging further and further from
them.

Christina stood, her hands
before her, palms facing the cold, timeless concrete of the bomb
shelter. “We’re not going to hurt you, little girl. We were brought
here just like you. We’re all in this together.”

“
Stay back. Stay away.
Don’t come near me,” mewled Alicia, her body shaking with
revulsion.

It was obvious to the two
others. Confinement by the Man-with-the-Ever-Changing-Face had
unnerved her to the point of hysteria.

Marissa put a placating
arm across Christina’s mid-section.

They exchanged a
look.

“
We should leave her
alone,” explained the nine-year-old. “Let’s give her some time to
get control of herself.”

The teenager gazed back at
her for a few moments, then shrugged.

They stood there, fiddling
with their hands for a few more seconds. Then Christina lit up, her
expression exploding with excitement when she laid eyes upon
it.

“
The bag!” she
shouted.

It was Marissa’s turn to
frown.

The older girl spun on her
heel and made her way to the over-sized sack the Changing Man had
brought along with Alicia.

Then Marissa
understood.
The bag
! she thought, scurrying after. She came up to the
fifteen-year-old just as the other pulled forth a twin-pack of
toothpaste and a stick of feminine deodorant.

“
Yes!” exclaimed
Christina. She squatted at once, placing the items on the ground
while she rummaged through the bag with vigorous movements.
“Toothbrushes!” she gushed a second later. “Oh my, towels, bottled
water – I need this so bad.” She tore at the packaging containing
the toothbrushes. Then she ripped open the toothpaste box and
applied a copious amount to the brush. She uncapped one of the
large, thirty-two ounce bottles of water, pouring a tiny stream
onto the bristles. An instant later, she was brushing her teeth.
She was so happy there were tears running down her face.

Still upon the floor,
Marissa continued to pull forth items from the sack. It was
pleasing to find they now had everything they would need to keep
themselves clean.

And
, their kidnapper had brought real food this time, nourishing
and fulfilling. She felt tears of her own began to fall. She placed
the cold cuts, the cheeses and the long loaves of Italian bread
wrapped in wax paper upon the floor. She would have used
brain-surgeon-like care if she had not seen something else within.
They fell to the floor when her hand came about a two-liter jug of
Coke. She knew the sugary goodness would be like wine from heaven
going down her throat. She wasted no time and uncapped the bottle,
taking huge gulps of what had to be the best tasting substance on
Earth. She did not even care when some spilled from the corners of
her mouth, swilling upon her t-shirt, staining it for all
time.

Along the wall of the
tunnel-like structure, Alicia’s mutterings continued. Even after
the other girls had freshened up and consumed their first healthy
meal in days. Alicia’s murmurs went on unabated.

Alicia was not built in
the same fashion as Marissa. She had always been a much gentler
child, kindhearted and meek. She carried none of the other girls’
rambunctious approach to life or her outgoing nature. She
preferring to stay in the background, to let the other kids explore
while she watched.

Alicia was nothing like
Marissa.

Her mindless droning
continued for a long, long time.

~~~~~~~<<<
ᴥ
>>>~~~~~~~

~ Interlude ~

A Continuous
Event

Sunday, November
28
^th
,
Within Minutes…

I wonder if she found out
anything new
, thought Juanita Papilon as
she came from the shower. She had a towel wrapped around her body,
rubbing with half a mind at the remaining moisture from her hair
with another. She had awakened late. Her head pounded after yet
another Saturday night out with friends. Although this time, she
had not gone to the party with her usual “road dogs”.

Vanessa had stayed the
night with Lynn instead of going to the party their friend Luke was
throwing to celebrate his birthday.

Juanita had been too
worked-up to hang-out with them. She had cringed at the thought of
nestling in Lynn’s bedroom trying to dig up scraps of information
on Andrew Ibarra.

Lynn had been crushing on
him for more than half a year now and still hadn't jumped his
bones.

She could not sit by and
watch them obsess over the dude. She knew inside, it was a futile
act. The government had placed a strangle-hold on all news related
to the abductions. Moreso now that they had continued to occur all
over this side of town. It did not matter that Lynn’s aunt Denise
worked for the police or the 911 Emergency Dispatch Center even.
She would be just as tight-lipped as everyone else investigating
the Event. They had likely entangled her in so many confidentiality
agreements crucifixion would be in order if she dared to fart
sideways. Sure, her aunt was nice enough to agree to meet with Lynn
at her house, but she would not say much. She could not.

There was no
use.

Juanita, or J.J. (as she
preferred) was not one to sit around. She needed to be out. She
needed to interact, to mingle, to dance, especially with all the
bullshit of the past few days. She needed release, respite from the
tension, the bad vibes. Or whatever the hell it was she felt
crawling down her spine every time she thought about all those kids
taken against their will. The thought of some old, horny dude
feeling her up made the muscles in her jaw clench. The idea sent
the heebie-jeebies coursing through her like she had tasted
something bitter.