Chapter 7: History
After Doc left the room, Maggie and Marcus sat in silence for several minutes. Maggie hardly noticed Marcus’s presence at all. She was absorbed in her own thoughts.
The information Doc imparted was giving her a headache. Executioner? What did that mean? What would her role be? To execute the…bad guys—whoever they were? What if she had to kill someone other than the bad guys? She would have to discover the true meaning of the role as she went along. Her imagination reeled with macabre possibilities.
Maggie jumped when something touched her hand. It was Marcus. He pulled her out of her thoughts then gently to her feet. He led her out of the room and into the dimly lit corridor. They passed several doors as the corridor twisted in its course but never intersected with any other hallways. This time Maggie did not try to peer into the rooms; she was too exhausted.
They stopped outside a doorway that looked the same as all the others. Unlike Doc’s office, which gave the appearance of darkness from the corridor but was light inside, this room was dark when they stepped through the doorway. Marcus did something—she couldn’t see what—and brought lights on. These lights, unlike in Doc’s office, were dim and orange. There was a small cot, a bureau of drawers, a washstand, and two conventional doors that led off to one side.
Marcus guided her over to the bed. “Stay here. Try to relax. I’ll bring you something to eat.”
Then Maggie was alone. She flopped backward onto the bed. It wasn’t that she kept expecting to wake up exactly, but more that she thought she ought to expect to wake up. Everything seemed real. When you’re asleep, sometimes you don’t know if you’re asleep or awake, but when you’re awake, you knew for sure, didn’t you? Maggie was sure this was real. But how could she take everything she saw and heard at face value? It would sound insane to anyone else.
When Marcus didn’t return after a few minutes, Maggie got up to explore. One door led to the facilities, including a standup shower with a nozzle but no knobs. The other door led to a small closet. It was full of clothes, and she wondered whose they were. They had probably belonged to the previous occupant, but she wondered who it was.
Picking a green, long-sleeved shirt from the rack, she held it up to herself. She had no mirror, but it was obvious that it was a perfect fit for her. Doc said she’d been here before, so…did that mean…?
“I hope you don’t mind. I brought enough for two.”
Maggie jumped when Marcus spoke.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.”
She hastily replaced the shirt. He glanced at it but said nothing, so she shut the closet door.
“Do you want company?”
She shrugged, hoping she looked nonchalant. “Sure.”
She wouldn’t admit it, but she didn’t want to be alone. She didn’t know Marcus well, but if he intended her harm, he’d had plenty of chances for it. She felt safe with him.
He’d brought a covered tray. He sat at the foot of the bed, facing the head, and crossed his legs. She sat down facing him and did the same. When he uncovered the tray, it smelled delicious. Her stomach growled loud enough to make her cheeks warm. Marcus didn’t seem to notice, but she knew it was all pretense, because the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.
The meat tasted like beef, though the texture was a bit strange. The potatoes had obviously come from flakes in a carton, but they were good. Marcus gave her a cup of sweet liquid. It tasted like water flavored with fruit and honey.
“What is this I’m drinking?”
“It’s water, but for meals we infuse it with a mixture of vitamins and greens. There is virtually no produce here, so in order to get what you would normally get from fruits, greens, nuts, and things, we have to use this.”
Maggie nodded. There were similar things in her time at health food stores, but they didn’t taste this good.
The silence as they ate wasn’t awkward, but Maggie felt compelled to fill it. When Marcus wasn’t looking at his food, he was staring at her, which was unnerving.
“So are you going to tell me about last time or what?”
Marcus shook his head. “Not tonight. It’s getting late, and you’re exhausted.” He smiled. “I think we’ve bombarded you with enough information.”
Maggie sighed. She wanted to know everything, but Marcus had a point. Besides, the insides of her eyes were burning for sleep.
“Can I ask you a question, Marcus?”
He regarded her warily. “You aren’t going to con me into telling you anything tonight, Maggie.”
“Not about that. About you.”
He stared at her steadily for a moment before shrugging. “What do you want to know?”
“How’d you get into this? What’s your stake in it?”
Marcus chewed his food silently for a moment, his eyes searching a blank spot on the wall. “It was inevitable for me, only a matter of time before I found the team and became a part of it.”
“Why?”
He set his plate down. “My father was an individualist. By the time I was born, the collectives were in full swing. When my younger brother was born, the violence against individuals was just beginning.”
“You have a brother.”
“Had a brother.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. All of us have lost loved ones to this cause.” His eyes were far away, but he shook his head and continued. “From the time my brother, David, was born, we were in danger. The collectives were trying to forcibly assimilate all of us.”
“That must have been terrifying for a child.”
Marcus gave her a crooked half smile. “Not for us. My father was a remarkable man. He never lied to us, but he concealed harsh realities, especially when we were young. We traveled around, always looking for a better place to camp or to hunt. We never stayed in the same place for long.”
Marcus smiled his mischievous smile again, and Maggie could tell he was lost in memory. “I have these memories of my father coming to David and me, urgently telling us it was time to go. He would say he was craving adventure and that we should be off to seek it. He used quests and games and ruses to disguise what those journeys really were—us running for our lives.
“Looking back, he must have gotten wind of an Arachniman on our trail. He knew he had to get us out of there fast or…” Marcus blinked back to reality and looked at Maggie then smiled sheepishly. “Anyway…”
“What do you mean when you say assimilate? How do they do it?”
“We don’t understand the science behind it, but it nearly happened to you a few hours ago.”
Maggie frowned. “When?”
“When the Arachniman grabbed your ankle, you grabbed your head and screamed.”
Maggie shrugged uncomfortably, not sure why she was embarrassed to have him see her vulnerable.
“Let me guess,” he went on, apparently not noticing her discomfort, “you felt like something metallic was drilling into your skull?”
Maggie’s eyes widened. “Yes. That’s a perfect description. How’d you know?”
“It’s been reported before. Arachnimen can assimilate with a touch. They drill into your head and attach you to the collective. It’s done without your consent, and it’s painful. I barely managed to keep it from happening to you.”
Maggie shivered. She elected not to tell Marcus that the ache at the back of her skull hadn’t completely gone away. She hoped it would after a good night’s sleep.
“How did you meet Doc?”
“After my brother David…was gone, it was just my dad and me.”
“What about your mother?”
Marcus shook his head. “I never knew her. My father said she died giving birth to my brother. I would have been five or six, but I have no memories of her.”
Maggie suddenly felt guilty for asking personal questions, but Marcus didn’t seem sad. He answered matter of factly.
“We traveled around, looking for others like us. It’s difficu
lt when you can’t trust anyone. We happened upon a group of people who were traveling in the opposite direction. Everyone was supremely paranoid of one another, but we managed a few civilities and had a meal together. Doc was among them. He was scouting for people—not only for individualists, but those that fit the prophecy’s neurochemical requirements. Unbeknownst to my father, he scanned us and found that my chemistry matched that of the Healer. He waited until the others had moved on then approached us.
“My father was sick. He was hiding how bad it was from me. Doc was a godsend. My father knew he was dying and was relieved to be able to leave me with people who believed the same things we did—who were fighting for something.”
“When did he pass?”
“Six years ago.”
Maggie couldn’t imagine the sadness of burying your only two family members in a world that was so rife with danger.
“Sounds lonely.”
He smiled. “Only at first. This team has become my family. We live for each other and for our mission. We keep each other from getting lonely.”
“And you’ve been with them ever since?”
He nodded, staring at her with that disarming gaze again. After a moment he gathered their dishes onto the tray. “Any other questions?”
She sighed. “Tons. But I suppose they can wait.”
He stood, smiling down at her. “Get some rest, Maggie. You need it.”
“How will I know when it’s morning? There are no windows.”
“I’ll wake you with breakfast. You get used to it down here—learn to judge time by your internal clock.”
Maggie raised what she hoped was a skeptical eyebrow, but she was so tired she might have been grinning maniacally and she wouldn’t have known. She still didn’t relish being alone, but she found the idea of sleep appealing.
“I guess I’ll see you in the morning then.”
He nodded. “Good night, Maggie.” He walked to the door and paused, half turning. “Maggie?”
She could only see him in profile, but her eyes had adjusted enough to make out the details of his face. Creases raced across his forehead, making appearances in different places and combinations. He was trying to control his emotions. Something stirred in her when she saw it, and she stood up in alarm, about to ask what was wrong. She didn’t get the chance. He turned to her, completely in control again, and gave her an easy smile.
“It’s really good to see you again.”
Maggie couldn’t think of anything to say, so she remained silent. The vulnerability slipped through his smile just a bit before he disappeared into the corridor.