Dark Inside (20 page)

Mason nodded. Chickadee waited a few minutes to see if he’d talk, but Mason wasn’t ready to share. They’d just have to wonder. When he didn’t speak, she continued to prattle on in
a half whisper, filling the dead air with endless banter as they walked. He only listened halfheartedly, though. It was hard concentrating when his head throbbed the way it did.

“I need to stop,” he said after a while. They were at the hotel he’d spotted earlier. “My head hurts,” he added when they both looked at him. “But you can go on. I’m fine by myself.”

Chickadee and Paul glanced at each other before she spoke. “No, it’s cool. This place is as good as any, and I’m pretty tired myself. We can get separate rooms and lock each other out if you’re still scared.”

“I’m not scared of you,” he said.

“Okay, just wary, then.” She giggled. “But it’s a good idea. It’ll be dark soon. I don’t like being out at night. Too hard to spot them coming.”

The hotel had an indoor pool, but it would be a long time before people were able to enjoy the chlorine water again. They took adjoining rooms on the twelfth floor, figuring they’d be safest at the top. It was a long hike up, and by the time they got to their rooms Mason was ready to collapse. Normally he was in excellent shape. If Tom and his friends were watching him from heaven they were probably laughing their asses off.

They came to Mason’s room first. Chickadee opened the lock and passed over the key. “Remember,” she said. “We’re right next door if you need anything.”

“I’ll be fine,” he assured her. “Just need to lie down for a bit.”

“You sure you don’t have a concussion?” She eyed him cautiously.

“No,” he said. “I don’t think so. Just a headache. Wish I had some Tylenol, but I’ll make do.”

“I’ll go get you some,” she said. “Just let me drop my stuff. I saw a gift shop downstairs. I’ll probably find a bottle there.”

He didn’t want her going back down all those stairs just for him. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “Honest.”

“Okay.”

“See ya,” Paul added. It was the most he’d said in the past half hour. From what Mason could tell, Chickadee did all the talking for both of them.

He closed the door and tossed his backpack on the floor. The room was dark—no electricity of course—so he moved to the window and opened the curtains a little bit. He didn’t think anyone would notice him that far up, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Glancing down onto the street below, he could see some people trashing a car with what might have been a baseball bat or a crowbar. A few blocks over to the right, a group of people had cornered someone. They were closing in on the kill. Even farther away, a group of people were stacking bodies into what looked like a gigantic bonfire.

Mason didn’t watch after that. He lay down and tried not to think about it. Next door he could hear Chickadee jumping on the bed. Her muffled voice was cheery.

He wanted to be alone. Yes, he knew that. But at the same time, he was thankful he’d run into them. Chickadee’s cheerfulness was contagious, and Paul looked like the kind of guy he’d want on his side if he was backed into a corner.

Closing his eyes, he fell asleep.

He awoke to a small tapping on his door. It took him a moment to remember where he was. The darkness was disorientating, and he couldn’t understand why he was sleeping in a strange bed. Twiggy must have hit him harder than he first thought.

“Mason?” Chickadee’s voice was soft through the wooden frame.

“Yeah, hold on a sec.” Rolling over, he pulled himself up into a sitting position and immediately checked his head. There was a lot of dried blood, and it hurt when he pressed his fingers at the spot, but his headache was gone, along with the dizzy sensation.

His knees didn’t buckle when he stood, and he took that as a good sign. Stumbling over his shoes, he maneuverd through the darkened room and tried to find the door. Chickadee waited with a candle in one hand, a gift shop bag in the other. Paul stood behind her munching on a bag of tortilla chips.

“I brought you some stuff,” she said. “Don’t bother to pay me back. I’m loaded these days. Money to burn.”

Mason grinned. “Hold on,” he said. “I’ve got the curtains slightly open. Let me close them before you come in with that light.”

They waited at the door while he checked the window. The streets looked so tiny below him; he couldn’t see much of anything. If the monsters were out there, they were camouflaged by the night.

“I brought you some Advil,” she said. She pulled a tiny bottle out of the bag and tossed it at him. “Couldn’t find any Tylenol.”

“Thanks.” He turned the bottle over in his hand but didn’t open it. “My head feels better. I’m not sure I need this.”

“That’s good.” Reaching back into the bag, she pulled out a six-pack of root beer. “I didn’t get any booze,” she said. “I had a feeling you probably wouldn’t want any and Paul doesn’t drink.”

“That’s fine,” he said. “Yeah, I think I’ve had enough head pain to last me a while. I’ll stick to sugar.” He cracked the can
and took a long drink. The root beer was warm, but he didn’t mind.

“Most of the food’s gone bad in the kitchen,” she said. “But I managed to find some peanut butter and crackers.” She turned the bag over and dumped it on the bed. It was mostly junk—potato chips and chocolate bars—but there were also a few wrinkled apples, along with the aforementioned peanut butter and box of saltines.

“Wow,” he said.

He didn’t touch the food. His stomach was too jumpy, so he stuck with the root beer and ended up swallowing a few of the Advil just to play it safe.

Paul and Chickadee divvied up the crackers, sticking their fingers in the peanut butter since she’d forgotten to grab a knife. They ate in silence for a while, the candle flickering softly on the bedside table.

“We’d like to come with you,” Paul said eventually.

“Huh?” He’d been absorbed in his own thoughts.

“We want to go west,” Paul said.

Mason stared at him blankly.

“We’re not really heading north,” Chickadee said. “I mean, we want to, but we don’t really know where Paul’s uncle lives. We don’t even have an address. I guess it’s just kinda a pipe dream?”

“Oh.” Mason shrugged. “I guess that doesn’t help.”

“But if we go with you, at least we’d be together,” Chickadee said. “We like you. Paul and I. We’d be safer as a group.”

Mason shrugged.

“We don’t take up much space,” Chickadee said, sensing his reluctance. “Really, Paul may be a giant, but he’s quite quiet. You won’t even notice he’s here. I’m a different story. I have this habit of talking endlessly, but most people find it
charming. Why else would I be named after the cutest bird in history?”

“It’s not that,” he said. “I’m just not sure it’s a good idea.” How could he tell them the truth? That he didn’t want them to come because of his darkness. He didn’t deserve company. He wanted to be left alone so he didn’t have to watch out for others and take care of anyone else too. He could be tougher by himself.

“Three pairs of eyes are better than one.”

Mason swallowed.

Chickadee leaned in close. She continued to stare at him, refusing to blink. He couldn’t help it; he broke into a smile.

“See,” she said, leaning back and grinning, too. “You can’t resist me.”

He glanced over at Paul, but the taller guy didn’t seem to be paying him any attention. Looking out the window, Mason figured he was obviously happy enough letting her do the negotiating. Paul knew what Mason was just learning for himself. Chickadee was good at getting her own way.

“So you want to go west, then?” he asked.

“West is warmer than north,” Paul said. “Hell, it’s warmer than here, even with the Chinooks. It’s gonna be cold soon. Polar bear cold. I think we should head for the coast. Vancouver’s really the best place to be. It doesn’t get cold there. Mostly just a lot of rain. It’ll get us through the winter alive.”

Chickadee nodded. Her mouth was full of peanut butter. She chewed several times and swallowed. “I love Vancouver. I haven’t been there in about two years. I’d love a chance to swim in the ocean again.”

“Okay,” Mason said. “Let’s do it.”

He’d worry about everything else later. It’s not like he couldn’t leave them if things went downhill.

“I’m so excited,” Chickadee said. “This is the first time in a long while I’ve felt happy about something.”

“Me too,” Mason said, and he was surprised because it was true.

The next morning they gathered in the lobby, where Mason grabbed a map book from the gift shop. There were only a few roads between Calgary and the coast. They’d have to be careful.

I’m back.

I think I missed me.

There’s blood under my fingernails. Dried on my clothing; matted in my hair; stained on my shoes. It’s seeped through my skin, mixed with my own DNA, and I’ve absorbed all of its power.

I’m pretty sure it’s not mine.

Life is a blur. I go in and out of time. The gray light takes over my body, eats my mind, and leaves me with the voices. I hear them. They curl up inside my frontal cortex and force all the warmth from my blood. Existence. Am I existing?

Why am I conscious when so many others are not? Are they doing this on purpose, and if so, why? Or is my brain wired differently from the average person’s? What makes me stronger? Sometimes I wake up, and even if just for a moment, I’m aware of the things I’ve done. I’m pretty sure there aren’t a lot who go back and forth the way I do. If all of them are having the same moments of clarity, I think there would be less killing. Less destruction. I can barely live with myself.

I wish I could stop remembering. I don’t want to remember.
If they’re going to steal my mind and control my body, why do they insist on giving me occasional freedom? If I must kill, then why do they torture me with blow-by-blow replays?

The girl. I remember her. So young. So pretty. I wanted to help her, but I can’t be trusted. She was confused and I understand that. She wanted to be a part of something good. But I could see her darkness. The potential to kill was already inside her soul. She was no different from the others, only she didn’t see it yet.

Eventually they will come to all of us. The chaos they’ve created will transform to a new world order.

Death will be a dream.

“I’m not doing it.”

“You agreed. Just like the rest of us.”

“I changed my mind.”

They sat in a half circle in a tiny one-bedroom apartment on the second floor. Jack was in the middle, holding a cardboard box with all their names thrown in. The rules were simple, and everyone agreed to it. Three names would be drawn, whoever got picked would take the trip. They were running out of food. This needed to be done.

Joy’s name was the first drawn. She didn’t say a word.

Aries’s name came next. She’d planned it that way with Jack when she first approached him about the idea.

“Make sure you put my name somewhere you can easily pull it,” she said. “I’m not sending them off without me. Consider me a silent volunteer.”

“Let me come too, then.” Jack brushed a strand of sandy brown hair from his eyes. “You’re not going without me.”

“No,” she said. “You need to stay here in case I don’t come back. So make sure you don’t pick yourself.”

Anyway, that was the plan. They all agreed. With Joy and
Aries on the list, they needed only one more. But Colin wasn’t so eager when his name was chosen last.

“I’m not doing it,” he said.

“Christ, I’ll go,” Nathan said. He took the box from Jack and started searching for his name. “I don’t mind. I want to go.”

“No,” Aries said. “We all agreed. He can’t go back on his word.”

“I’ve got a cold,” Colin said. “I’m not leaving this building unless I’m in perfect health. It’s too risky.”

“It’s one excuse after the other with you,” Eve said. She lowered her voice to try to match Colin’s tone. “I’m too tired. I can’t cook. I don’t wanna!”

“Eve, stop it,” Nathan said.

“I’m just tired of it,” Eve said. “He’s not very useful. And now he’s going to screw everyone else because he’s a coward.”

Colin jumped to his feet. “You take that back.”

“Make me.”

“Children!” Jack jumped in between them. “Play nice. I’ll go. I’ll take Colin’s place.”

“No,” Aries said.

“Okay, this needs to end,” Nathan said calmly. “It’s not worth the argument. I’m going and that’s final.”

Aries nodded at him. Nathan was right. Lately Colin picked a fight over every suggestion. He never wanted to do anything or be helpful. He wouldn’t take a guard shift at night; instead he made excuses about how tired he was. He wouldn’t help search the rooms for useful items; it was Joy who found the bicycles in the storage room. The world may have changed, but Colin hadn’t. He was arrogant as always; being difficult was just another day for him. Of course, he wasn’t the only one. They were all at each other’s throats these days. Blame it on the lack of food, lack of space, lack of comfort, the inability
to remain calm and collected. But Colin seemed to go out of his way to work the others into a pissing frenzy.

Nathan was right. It wasn’t worth the argument.

“Fine,” she said. “Nathan, Joy, and I will make the trip.”

Jack slammed the box down on the table and left the room.

Aries started to chase after him and then stopped herself. She couldn’t make everyone happy and she was tired of having the peace-keeping job. Jack would cool off on his own. There were more important matters to deal with.

“Let’s plan this, then,” she said.

“I’m going to go make some tea,” Eve said. “Anyone want?”

Eve left with her orders. Aries stared at Colin, who sat back down on the floor and started leafing through an old magazine. He acted as if the argument never happened, as if he hadn’t just forced Nathan to make a trip that he’d agreed to when he put his name in the box. It was
Alice in Wonderland
all over again, with Colin making a scene because everything wasn’t going according to
his
plan.

Finally she turned her back on Colin and sat down with Joy and Nathan. She would be the bigger person. She’d get over it. Being this annoyed was terrible. It was a side of herself she didn’t like seeing. Plus it was too exhausting, and she needed to save her strength.