The Golgotha Initiative

Logan

"Tell us what you know about Magnet."

What? My whole body aches. The skin burns firey hot- I open my eyes and blurrily peer at the scabs on my arm. Huge boils, popped blisters, pockmarking everywhere.

"Did you know that pain can kill you?" asks the sweet, high voice. My eyes roam absently. I'm in a white room, sterile, with no visible exits or entrances.

"It's true," the voice continues. "You're the only one it can't kill, apparently. And your friend, of course."

Compass. It has to be. Her red voice and high heels- red heels, high voice- high-

"Do you like that? This is what we give severely burned soldiers, right before they die. It's miraculous. You almost can't feel the pain."

Heels click on the white nothing space where a floor should be, and then a mhand is on my arm. Cool, then boiling, she twists the ravaged skin-

"STOP! STOP! STOP-"

Stop. It takes a moment for the pain to fade. I can hear torn, ragged breathing in the empty room.

"Where is Magnet?" she asks, near my ear. I keep my mouth shut. Even if I knew, I wouldn't give in that easily.
She twists my arm again.

I think they're weaning me off the drug. Slowly, so I don't die, because the heeled woman would is right: pain can kill. My throat is sore and raspy. My skin starts peeling away in huge chunks. The worst part is when I inhale a chunk of air and the cool slams agonizingly into my lungs.

I lay on the white ground and gasp lightly, trying to breathe without screaming. What happened? My pain-hazed mind grasps onto fragments of memory. The school, a vial, Ave...

She broke my arm. I glance at it, nudging my head against the tile. It isn't bent awkwardly, and it doesn't hurt any more than the rest of my body, so someone set it weeks ago. Where is she? Why am I here?

I've started to try moving again. A little bit at a time, my hands can tap the cold tile, the individual joints of my fingers creaking in protest. I can shift my leg, but the skin on my thigh feels like it's ripping apart. I'm too weak to stand.

Then, someone opens the door. Two figures in white hazmat suits enter, cloaked so that I can't see their skin. My mind flutters- everything is so white here, my skin the only break in an ocean of blankness- and then I'm being hauled up and pushed into a steel chair and tied down.

I don't scream. That would make my skin hurt worse.

"What do you know about Magnet?" a figure asks. Are there more than two now? I can't tell.

"Focus." A different one shines a light on my face. It stings my swollen eyes.
"Tell us about Magnet, Aamil. Aamil Javed, tell us."

Aamil. That's a name I haven't heard for a while. The last time was from my mother, as she told me to find my sister and run. Take Hadya. Be brave, Aamil.

They lean my chair back and stretch a rag across my face. It blocks the light, then stifles the air. I hear a rushing noise and ice water pounds against my face.

I cry out and strain against my cuffs. I can't breath, I can't see, they're trying to drown me. The freezing liquid gushes into my throat. I hack it up, gasping, and the drowning stops.

Then again. Water on my face, ice in my lungs. The darkness and the ocean pull at me and I am dying, over and over. They ask about Magnet. Be brave, Aamil.

"Stop! Stop, I'll tell you!" I don't know where the words come from. My mouth is not my own.

Again, I am drowned, and when I can breathe again the rag is off and the bright light glares at me.

"Magnet."

"Jamari took us. We were in the forest and she found us and gassed us and put us in a helicopter."

"Where did she take you?"

"I don't-" Rag again, drowning.

"Some building! Some- it was an apartment or something, with light and glass windows, she- she had an office-"

"Where is she now?"

"I... back there? It was warm, it-"

The rag is slapped back on, but no water accompanies it. I'm lifted up and heaves back into the room.

Everything is white, everything is cold. I curl up on the tile and shiver against myself.I am wearing a white shirt and white shorts. The food I get, too infrequently, is white rice, white bread, clear water. It would drive me crazy if I didn't have my dark skin to focus on.

One day the figures come back. I lash out at them, trying to fight, but I'm too weak. They pull me out the door by my shoulders. If they drown me again... please, please don't drown me again...

"Logan?"

I open my eyes. And there's this little girl, dark hair lank against her forehead, wearing a white shift. The figures push me to the floor and she runs over.

"Kiko!" I struggle to my feet, swaying. She throws her arms around my waist.
"Are you-"

They grab her and wrench her away.
One kicks my side and I fall back to the ground as Kiko yells, is dragged out the door and into the next room over. There's a plastic barrier separating us, and I can see her through the clear wall.

"Is Caleb here too?" she demands. "What about Er-"

They cuff her to a wall and winch her up, so that she's stretched against the surface opposite me.

"Kiko!"

Her eyes don't register me.

"Tell us where to find Magnet."

"I don't even know what Magnet is!"

The figure- male, by his voice- pulls out a knife. At maybe half a yard in length, it's a traditional samurai weapon. A tanto.

"Tell us where to find Jamari."

"I don't-"

The tanto flashes out and slices her shoulder. I cry out instinctively and press myself against the barrier that separates us. Kiko gasps but doesn't yell, doesn't look at the six-centimeter gash.

The skin around it oozes and bubbles.
A regular knife wouldn't do that.

"You were on the helicopter that flew there. You know where she is."

"I was unconscious." Kiko is so calm. Her chin trembles.

"For part of the time."

"Kiko!"

The knife traces against her collarbone. Her body jerks against the wall she's cuffed to. Blood leaks out of the thin opening, and something else, like puss but darker. The tanto must be poisoned.

"Stop!" I yell, banging my fist on the clear wall. "Stop!"

The figure doesn't ask questions anymore. He cuts, on her legs, her arms, the thin skin covering her ankle. He cauterizes her stomach after the long slash that rips the bottom of her shirt. That's when Kiko starts screaming.

"I don't know! They gassed us! Stop!"

"STOP!" I batter against the wall. My fists are going to bruise but it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter, blood is dripping to the floor. He slices her forehead and the liquid oozes over her eyes. She cries out and it flows into her mouth.

"PLEASE! STOP! Pleasepleasepleaseplease-" The words run together, and I don't know if it's me or Kiko screaming anymore. The wall between us shakes but holds together. Blood, from her fingertips, flings against the plastic.

"OKAY! Okay, stop, I- the penthouse."

He steps back. Knife out, slick with blood.

"Twenty-two point nine zero six eight degrees South, forty-three point one seven two nine degrees West," Kiko murmurs.