Rhombus [h.s]

18

18

When the three of us arrived at Gafunkel's place, Woody gave each of us a huge hug. She was so worried. She told us she saw police cars pass by heading in the direction of SLSU campus. The chaos must've had gotten way out of hand since Headmaster Gordon decided to break his pride and call the people whom he resented the most. At that point, most of our confidence toward the success of the revolution had deflated into a minimum, but Murdock gave no sign of demoralization.

He asked Becka for the masks and with Jude's help, pulled three large duct tape-sealed boxes into the center of the room.

"A thousand masks in total," she said. I let out a low whistle.    

Murdock sat on the floor and aggressively ripped the seal off with scissors. He slid his finger under the lid of the box and opened the flaps. It was filled to the brim with packing peanuts.

Jude plunged his left hand down into the popcorn-like depths and pulled out a plain white mask. With a sly smile, he wore it and stood up, proud and smug.

Suddenly, there was a loud series of knocks on the door and Garfunkel opened it. Liam and Walter barreled in, beat and sore, like warriors coming home after war.

They plopped themselves on the couch next to me.

"Were you followed?" Garfunkel asked, slightly irritated.

"No," Liam replied with a groan.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"What happened to him?" G gestured to Walter, who was staring off into space, motionless, eyes wide and blank.

"I have no idea," Liam said truthfully. "It's the effect of the drug, I think."

"For fuck's sake, Rivers," G grumbled, rubbing his temples.

Murdock shook his head and said, "Come on, people. We have to plan for tomorrow."

Walter stood up and prowled to the other end of the room and grabbed a champagne bottle from the ice bucket. The eight of us looked at him, curious at his sudden movements. He took a dirty glass from the sink and poured it full of champagne.

After taking a modest sip, he looked at us - jaw locked, nostrils flared, lips set in a straight, distressed line - as if looking at us for the last time.  I will never forget that look. I felt the inkling of a thing that presently grew quite clear in my mind, which oppressed me for many days, a sense of worry, of misfortune.

Walter was a man who could be easily interpreted by many. As a Psychology major, I could interpret his actions in a snap. However this uncanny, straightforward act can be a dangerous thing. He simmered with restless energy that emerged in sudden, unpredictable actions. His erratic behavior had always been a problem. And Murdock overlooked one important fact. Walter could, could, be the one who'd stab us in the back. There'll always be a weak link - the quick to deceive - no matter how close the circle is.

"I'm sorry," he told us quickly, and I let out a shaky breath. He placed the glass on the table and looked at me one last time before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.

...

It was the day of the revolution. The day of a new beginning. The end of deception.

I could sense the anxiety around us. It was strong and poorly concealed. Sitting there in the empty jazz club with the Rhombus of Freethinkers, tapping my fingers against the table, I couldn't shake the feeling of extreme unsettlement.

Woody cleared her throat. She looked scared. Pale as a ghost. "Where's Jude?" She asked.

"He's setting up the fireworks in the main building," Murdock replied. Even though his voice was hoarse from coughing, it had a strength that was metered by a calmness, a deep centered peace that all of us could feel. "The fireworks," he added, "is the climax of Eradication."