Vial #127

Chapter 33: Foundation of Dread

"How can that be?" The doctor is puzzled. If I hadn't witnessed the events first hand, I would be, too.

"It was but it wasn't his fault." I try to clarify that point. "You should talk to him," I hear the doctor decidedly walk away in hopes of finding him. Later, a nurse returns to my bedside and unclips the hook, advising me to rest for the night.

When I turn my head again to the window, Peter is gone, disappeared like in a horror movie. My stomach churns as the nurse wraps the puncture in a coat of gauze. I wince as the anesthetic wears off from the direct area. A dark ache spills into my gut, replacing the full feeling of blood drowning my organs.

I grip the side railings of the beds, hoping that the intense hold will dull the throbbing coming from the penetration. I flex my ankles, stretching them until it hurts so that I can distract my nerves from the worse injury.

The dull pain makes sleep nearly impossible and I spend endless hours just breathing, nothing more. The empty hours drag by, each second lasting an eternity. I wonder what is happening outside. I am locked in the infirmary like a prisoner, again. The doors not locked but my body unwilling and unable to get up.

"Where did Peter go? Did he run, or get taken?" I was over thinking this, he was fine and really, this wasn't his fault, it was mine. I had to find him and make sure he was okay.

I hold my body up with one elbow, a slight zing of pain bolts through my body. I fight through and manage to reach a pair of crutches leaned against the corner. I hobble along, both feet steady with the extra brace of support.

Outside, people are streaming towards the front of the Atrium all whispering among themselves. It couldn't be mealtime already. "Excuse me," I tap a young man on the shoulder, "could you tell me where Peter is?" He looks down, slowly raising his arm and pointing to the front side of the Atrium where everyone was headed.

I follow the swarm, joining the school of fish. "Pardon me," I grab the attention of a woman, holding an infant in one arm, a young girl wrapped in her other. "Is this where Peter is," she nods, her eyes wide.

Something was going on, but my height was no advantage to see over the shear elevation of the people. "Emma," I turn around, my crutches getting caught on the moving legs of the others. A few meters back was Jamie, his tiny head bobbing up and down between the crowds. The crutches fall, leaving me to bear my full body weight. I tread upstream towards him but each step makes my face wince.

Finally I reach him, ignoring the annoyed facing of passing by strangers, as we stay still, holding up traffic. "Jamie, what is going on?" I grab his face with both hands, but I can see in his expression that he has no idea.

"Why are you out here? You should be resting!" he demands like a concerned parent.

"I'm ok. This is important, Jamie. I need to find Peter." I explain.

"Let's just follow the others," he reluctantly says. I can barely hear his voice, as the noise pollution of the group moving and talking among themselves, is too great. I take his hand, urgency in my body ordering me to find out what is going on. Movement in the crowd slows to an agonizing shuffle.

"Keep it moving," guards order from the sidelines, cramming us into an even tighter swarm. I hold Jamie close protecting him from the current but also using him for support. I can feel the bandages at my side grow full as blood enters the spongy material. Still I keep moving, never letting go of Jamie's hand, even as mine goes into a cold sweat.

"Emma, I'm here," Sadie slips beside me, gracefully letting me rest some of my body on her shoulder.

"What's going on?" I ask. She shakes her head; the fear in her eyes is real.

"All of the guards came in, ordering us in this direction, not letting anyone go. Whatever this is, it's big." I shudder, imagining the worse. " Maybe it was a biter attack or maybe somebody got bit and now we're all in jeopardy," she guesses.

"We should just follow everyone, but if something goes wrong, head back to the beds. You got it?" I make sure that both of them nod before continuing.

The feet pounding on the ground sound like an array of drum beats; the voices, like the other part of the band. Everything is growing more and more chaotic.

Suddenly, a voice shouts out; a voice of terror, and screaming. I turn my head to look at Sadie. I try to turn back but the people behind us push our group forward. I turn my head to look at the guards. All of them have poker faces, standing at the ready; a sturdy barrier between us and freedom.

We slow even more as we near the destination. Officials are guiding people into a crowd in front of a makeshift stage. The platform made of stained wooden planks surrounding several tables. As the lights go off, people react in surprise, screaming and grabbing onto loved ones. Only one light remains; alone in the empty world. Beside the stage is a staircase. Eleanor steps up to a microphone.

"I am very sorry for this chaos but what needs to be done, will be. Now," she addressees the entire crowd as the stragglers in the back fill in the far end, "I have gathered you here for a horrid event. This will be a surprise for many of you, I know, because I felt that same feeling when I heard." I can see that she is fighting for composure. "Mistakes have the power to turn you into something else; someone you don't intend to be. I encourage every one of you to remain true to yourself. Someone in our midst has changed, and his actions have been brutal and violent. Some mistakes cannot be made up."

A figure is now being pushed onto the stage, their head in a bag, their hands tied behind their back. "We all die sometime; the goal isn't to be immortal. The goal is to make something that will last forever and this man has done that, but now it is his time to go, for his mistakes have caused too much of a disturbance." She walks behind the man, her heels clicking on the stage with every step.

Fear fills my heart; this can't be happening. I pray that my prediction is wrong, that I'm still missing pieces and clues to the puzzle. Eleanor pulls off the bag and everyone gasps. I was right. Guilt is all I feel as everyone stares at the sorry sight of Peter.