Mane-of-Night And The Wayward Child - Chapter 2

"Do you understand me?"

"Yes..."

"Ah, that's excellent. Yes, everything seems to working, and the pattern has taken root. Splendid, splendid..."

"Where am I?"

"You don't need to worry your pretty head about that, my dear. You go back to sleep, now - when you wake, everything will be just fine..."

Two days ago...

It had been a weird dream, so realistic Mariella could easily have mistaken it for a memory, but as she sat up in bed, the girl could feel the softly-spoken words, the strange surroundings - part laboratory, part factory - all of it fading away, just like any other dream...

Mariella was bathed in sunlight, streaming in through a window with a balcony outside, overlooking the angular landscape of a city, and the girl's eyes took a moment to adjust to the brightness. Turning her gaze away from the light, the girl glanced around her, taking in her surroundings; her first impressions were of a hotel room, a quite lavish one at that, but there was something not quite right about it all. There was transparent plastic covering most of the furniture, dust and wood shavings on the otherwise spotless carpet, a metal step-ladder in one corner, with a box underneath it, filled with carefully packaged light-bulbs.

Gradually, the events of the night before crept back into Mariella's mind. Bert had escorted her from the Greyhound station, and down a long boulevard to a new hotel, which had just days before been abandoned not long before it was due to open. The building was sound, with most of its facilities in place, and the authorities seemed to have no objection to it being used as an unofficial temporary shelter for the displaced, but Bert approached it with some caution, which had Mariella wondering just what the strange man's relationship with the forces of law and order might be. All her reservation drifted away as she reached the room she'd been assigned, and flopped down on her bed, falling asleep immediately.

Mariella stretched, and slid down to the end of the bed, where a large flat-screen TV stood, packaging piled up to one side, its screen covered with a sheet of static-cling plastic. The device was plugged in, cables leading from the back to both power outlet and aerial socket, and with the flick of a switch on the back, the screen hummed, and gradually came to life, first automatically running through a series of set-up screens, scanning for channels and things like digital TV or high-definition broadcasts, then out of the black came a menageries of loud, garish animated characters. "There may be zombies out there", the girl chuckled to herself, "but they still got time to put on cartoons...!"

Fishing around inside the box, Mariella found a sealed bag containing a set of instructions, a remote control unit, and a pair of batteries. This she tore open in a hurry, slotted the batteries into the underside of the hand-set, then cast the rest aside as she sat on the bed, and started hunting for a news channel.

Some of the channels appeared to have been closed down, as clear a sign as any that all was not well, but eventually, Mariella tracked down a local station, in the midst of its morning news report, a solemn-faced "suit-and-tie-guy" and his middle-aged female counterpart sitting at a curved desk with a video-wall behind them, displaying the words "WORLD IN CRISIS" in huge red letters. This was what Mariella had been looking for, and she turned up the volume...

"...day seventeen of the crisis, and there is still no word from the White House or The United Nations to explain just what has happened", said the woman - she looked as though she hadn't slept much lately. "What remains of the police force is, as expected, being augmented by the National Guard, and units of the Army and Marine Corps, which leads many to believe that it is only a matter of time before martial law is imposed."

"The Governor has reiterated his previous advice to the people of Nevada", continued the man - he didn't look much better - "recommending that residents remain in their homes unless it is absolutely necessary for them to travel. State disaster management services have been put into action to address the water shortages throughout the Greater Las Vegas area, and where supplies cannot be immediately restored, emergency deliveries of bottled water will be made - we hope to have more news on that later in the hour."

The camera went back to the female newscaster. "The scientific community have been hard at work trying to explain this situation, described by some rather alarmist sources as 'a plague of zombies', but unlike the movies, there appears to have been no indication of hostile intent from those affected, and no sign at all that the condition is spreading. The Center For Disease Control has been unable to detect any virus or other pathogen that might be involved, their work impeded by this quite bizarre condition - all attempts to capture one of the 'zombies' has met with failure, as they melt into pools of inert liquid if they are damaged, or confined."

The woman swung round on her seat, to face the end of the desk, where a older man with thinning hair and glasses was sitting. "I'm joined now by Professor Eugene Cresswell of The Southern Nevada Science Center, at the University of Nevada Las Vegas. Professor, thank you very much for coming in at such short notice - I'm sure this situation is keeping you and your colleagues extremely busy - but our viewers are growing increasingly concerned about this 'plague'. Is there anything you can tell the people at home which might reassure them?"

"We at the Science Center having been working with law enforcement and the military from the very beginning", said Professor Cresswell, "and I am, I hope you'll understand, limited in what I can discuss, but I can confirm your earlier statement, in that these... individuals have so far shown no signs of aggression, or harmful capability. The residue has been examined thoroughly, and there appears to be no toxic content..."

"We've had reports, and we've even filmed occasions where these 'zombies' have shone a green light from their eyes, over objects and people", interrupted the newscaster. "Can you confirm that this is harmless, too?"

"Our research teams have been able to collect some data on this 'light'", answered the scientist, "and it appears that it is simply straightforward visible light, confined to a narrow band of the green region of the visible spectrum. It's not radiation - it's certainly not a 'death ray' of any kind. You'd do yourself more harm crossing the road without sun-block."

"So what purpose does this light serve, Professor?"

"We can't say for certain", he responded, "and it would be inappropriate to speculate at this time. If anyone is at all concerned about these... entities, my advice would be simply to stay out of their way..."

There was a knock at the door, which startled Mariella, who had become completely immersed in the news report. She muted the television, went to the door, and found a young black woman standing there, hair pulled back in a tight pony-tail, with a bundle of clothes and towels in her arms. "Sorry to bother you", said the woman, "but I heard the TV..."

"Oh", murmured Mariella. "Is it not supposed to be on...?"

"It's not as though anyone's going to charge us", giggled the woman, and she shifted her bundle under one arm. "Candice Harper", she announced, extending her free hand in greeting. "Welcome to The Olympus Springs Hotel!"

Mariella took Candice's hand, and shook it gently, tentatively. She half expected the cheerful young woman to melt into a pool of goo, but hand and woman remained reassuringly solid, and Mariella felt it wouldn't be a waste of time or breath to introduce herself. "I... I didn't exactly have time to get to know my way around", she mumbled after giving her name. "I arrived last night..."

"Bert told me to look out for you", said Candice. "Looks like you could do with a change of clothes, and a bath."

"I could sure do with a shower right now", Mariella told her.

"It's a bath or nothing", Candice responded, regretfully. "We got no running water. I can boil you up some bath-water..."

"Sure", said Mariella, sighing. "That'd be great."

Candice handed her the towels and clothes. "We raided the shop in the lobby", she said gleefully. "Hope there's something there that's your size."

"Anything's better than this", replied Mariella, looking down at her green gown, flapping her arms helplessly.

Her load delivered, Candice went to get the bath-water, and Mariella looked through the clothes she'd been given. Finding nothing she could even remotely call "cool", the girl went back to the news reports, intent on absorbing as much information as she could. There could well come a time when her fate depended on something she saw there, something she heard...

Mariella felt like a walking advertisement for The Olympus Springs Hotel as she came down for breakfast, the hotel's logo emblazoned upon her t-shirt and sweat-pants, the company's crest embroidered on the slippers she had found in the wardrobe, but at least she felt clean after her bath, and a bit more human. Even so, she couldn't help feeling out of place in the dining hall, with so many complete strangers around her. An old couple, a young family, their two children engaged in a mock sword-fight with triangles of toast, a man with greying hair staring into his cereal with a haunted expression... she just had the awful feeling that, somehow, she didn't quite belong.

I just parachuted into the middle of all this, she told herself. It's bound to be confusing...

Mariella quickly spotted a familiar face, and ducked and danced through the breakfasters to where Candice was sitting. "You took your time", said Candice, smiling back at Mariella as she took a seat. "Certainly seems to have done you the power o'good!"

"Dunno when I last had a bath, a shower, anything", Mariella sighed.

"Can't be that long since you last ate something, girl", Candice told her. "Looks like someone been feeding you."

The last time I remember eating was ten months ago - pizza at Paulo's..., thought Mariella, thinking over things she couldn't possibly say to Candice. She wouldn't understand - and neither would Paulo, her boyfriend... her friends; Connie, Stacey, Anna... her family. This was the first time she'd thought of any of them, and if it had been ten months for her, it would have been ten months of anguish for them as well...

"Mano's gonna kill me", she murmured, thinking of her over-protective, over-aggressive older brother.

Candice put a hand on her new friend's shoulder. "Are you okay?", she asked. "You went all 'Lost In Space' just then."

"I... I need to talk to my family", Mariella replied. "They-they need to know I'm safe..."

"Join the queue, girl-friend", Candice told her. "Just about everyone here has lost track of someone, and Bert's doin' his best to look after us all, and find our families. It's not been easy..."

"I have to see Bert", demanded Mariella. "I just need a phone..."

Mariella sprung up from the table, and hurried out of the dining hall, back out into one of the hallways leading off the hotel's main lobby. Casting her gaze this way and that, down one darkened corridor after another, she caught sight of a lighted doorway - into which was disappearing a dark-skinned figure she recognised from the night before. "Troy..."

She didn't call out the security guard's name, and didn't charge into the office to insist that someone help her get in touch with her family, back in Miami. In the passage, just outside the triangle of light spilling out into the corridor, she paused, and listened...

"...sorry, Bert, but there's still nothing", he heard Troy say. "No hospital admissions, nothing. The missing person report system is overloaded right now, and it's not exactly a priority. If the word's to be believed, half those who're missing are wandering about like the living dead. I wish I could help, man, but there's... just... nothing."

"Thanks for trying, Troy", sighed Bert, in that unsettling, slurred way of his. "Don't worry about it - this'll all make sense soon enough. It has to."

"Don't be so sure", advised the security guard. "Looks like I'm not needed at the Greyhound station any more. The Air Force are sealing off places like that on grounds of 'heightened security concerns'. We could be under martial law by tonight as the guys from Nellis take over."

"Well, I better get Mariella to the hospital before then", said Bert. "We don't want to be stopped in the street by armed military - neither of us would have any I.D. Did your contact at the precinct come up with anything about her...?"

Mariella froze at the mention of her name. It was a reflex action, more than anything, and rather than panic, and submit to the animal instinct to flee, she forced herself to keep listening.

"Wish you didn't have to ask that", said Troy with a sigh. "Here - look for yourself..."

Mariella heard a piece of paper being passed from one hand to another, and she found herself biting her lower lip in nervous anticipation as not a single word was shared between the men for several minutes. She came close to bursting in to demand an explanation, but just as she was tensing herself to do just that, Bert spoke.

"And this is accurate?", he asked Troy.

"Straight from Miami Dade", came the reply. "Looks pretty conclusive to me. The family confirmed..."

Panic staged a swift surge, breaking through Mariella's resolve and driving her back to the dining hall. Part of her wanted to hear it all, part of her wanted to run, run from the truth, run from everything, but she only got as far as the self-serve breakfast bar, and quietly joined the queue, even though she didn't feel at all hungry - except for a dose of normality...

She brought a bowl of cereal and a glass of something that was supposed to be orange juice back to Candice's table, but after a few minutes staring at the contents of her bowl, Mariella pushed the food away, prompting her new friend to voice her concerns. "Are you okay?", asked Candice. "Any news...?"

"He was busy", Mariella replied. "I waited a bit, but... I'll try again later. Suppose I could use some more time to get my head around things - dunno what I'd say..."

"You're not alone", Candice told her. "Everyone here wonders what they'd say when they see their families again..."

You're not alone... but that was exactly how Mariella felt. She'd trusted Bert, and now he knew something about he that he'd probably be unwilling to share - she wondered how long it'd be before Candice started talking about her behind her back...

Under the table, Mariella tested the blade of the knife she'd palmed from the cutlery stand. It wasn't much of a weapon, but for now, it was all she had. With a bit of work, she could get a better edge on it - but she hoped she wouldn't need it.

...to be continued...

Posted at 00:42 on 19.10.2009


~ o O o ~


Previously...
Mane-of-Night And The Wayward Child - Chapter 7 - 30.10.2009
Mane-of-Night And The Wayward Child - Chapter 6 - 28.10.2009
Mane-of-Night And The Wayward Child - Chapter 5 - 25.10.2009
Mane-of-Night And The Wayward Child - Chapter 4 - 23.10.2009
Mane-of-Night And The Wayward Child - Chapter 3 - 21.10.2009