Chapter 10: Discovering Purpose
Kaylee awoke. She kept her eyes closed for several moments, letting consciousness sweep through her. She had roused a few hours earlier, still hunched up against the door with horrid cramping in her neck and spine. She remained conscious long enough to crawl over to the thin mattress and pass out again. Now, she woke once more in the room, feeling somewhat refreshed and renewed. Standing up and stretching, she ignored the complaints of her sore muscles. The can of peaches lay, quite banged up, on its side on the floor.
The outburst and rage she had thrown around the previous evening seemed like a distant memory, vague and nonspecific. Overall, the experience had proven cathartic, and the half-dead sleep was life-saving. She went to the door, which was surprisingly unlocked.
No one stood outside to guard. Kaylee shrugged, assuming that she would have been in trouble after her angry tirade. She traveled through a hallway and up some stairs, moving within the bowels of the theatre building until she found herself facing the same guard who appeared to be reading the exact same magazine in front of Elijah's secure room. He looked up at her with clear irritation in his eyes. He rubbed his foot. Kaylee ignored him and pounded on the door once again.
Those same glaring, blue eyes appeared as the door slot clanged open. Elijah said nothing, only watching.
Kaylee stared back at him. The two stood in silence, heavy metal door between them. She relented.
"Sorry," she said.
"That's better."
"You really hate peaches?" She almost didn't want to know.
"Terribly."
Kaylee frowned. "Then why did you send me out? Do you have any idea what happened to me?"
He disappeared from the doorway, leaving Kaylee in a confused silence. She imagined she heard some whispering. Before she could give this possibility consideration, the blue eyes reappeared.
Elijah's gaze diverted to the guard. "Leave." The man folded his magazine under his arm and strolled off without hesitation.
Kaylee was growing more confused; nothing like this had ever happened. Before she could puzzle out the details, several sounds of various metallic scraping filled the hallway as locking bolts slid. The door shuddered open. She blinked, uncertain of what to do. "Hurry up," came Elijah's voice from inside.
Kaylee entered, hesitant. As soon as she was inside, an enormous bald man in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt shoved the door back in place. She waited as he replaced no less than half of a dozen heavy bolts. Kaylee could see he carried a huge handgun in a shoulder holster.
"Elijah?" Kaylee asked. The bald man looked at her with those piercing blue eyes she knew so well and shook his head. He pointed at something behind her.
She turned around to see a short, thin man who looked to be at least in his sixties with gray, wiry hair and soft brown eyes. He rattled away at a keyboard on a workbench, staring at a dusty monitor. In and around the workbench were several computer units. Mounted to a rack on the wall were about a dozen other monitors of different sizes with various pictures and text. She could tell a few were camera feeds, and one she recognized as the grainy, black and white images of the bunker hallway, empty now and corpse free. Swiveling around in his rolling chair, the man squinted up at her.
"Ah, Kaylee," a quavering yet confident voice came from this man, one she didn't recognize. "I apologize for the poor treatment." He chuckled in a grandfatherly sort of way. "Quite an impressive outburst you had."
"Who the hell are you?" she asked.
He presented her with a warm smile. "Why, my dear, I am Elijah. It is good to meet you face to face." He stood up and offered his hand, which tremored lightly as he held it out. She gave him a wary look before slowly extending her own. "I'm glad we can finally speak. I dislike having to use Victor," he gave the huge, bald man a little wave, "as my mouthpiece, but you understand the necessity. Coffee?"
Kaylee sputtered, at a loss for words. She shook her head, unnerved and off-balance by the hospitality he offered. It was entirely unlike anything she'd experienced with Elijah prior. But I guess that wasn't really him, she thought.
"I understand this must be very strange for you. Or," he chuckled again, "at least a little different than what you're used to. I, unfortunately, have to be a bit unyielding until I know who can be trusted. I assure you: deceptions such as these are important to survival.
Kaylee found her voice. "Survival for who?"
He smiled at her, creasing lines over his aging face. "Everyone." Far from comforting, his smile put her on edge.
Elijah laughed out loud, watching her tense posture. She didn't move and didn't join in the mirth. Her eyes moved back and forth, taking in all of the room, but never leaving the old man long enough to give him any opportunity.
Woodworking equipment, including radial, table, and band saws were shoved into the corner. Next to them lay a pile of welding tools. Stacks of plywood, two-by-fours, and miscellaneous scraps were against the far wall. Faded stains of various colors decorated the floor. A ventilated room for paint storage, now likely in use for something else, was set in an alcove across from a sink a few feet inside the room and to the left. Despite confirmation that set construction used to happen there, Kaylee was not thrilled to notice that there was only one other exit at the far side of the room. It was unusable with numerous layers of sheet metal welding it to a sealed status.
"Yes, you'll notice it's impenetrable. Well, mostly." He gave another grin. "That's why I prefer the anonymity, even from some of my own people. You can never be too careful." He sat down at the workbench again; he turned another dusty swivel chair around, offering it to her. Warily, Kaylee pulled it away a distance and sat down. She kept watch on both Elijah and his immense bodyguard positioned near the doorway.
"You would like to ask some questions, perhaps?" asked Elijah, blinking at her.
"Like what?"
He gave a loud laugh. "Like what? Like anything you want! Perhaps why you were sent out last night? Perhaps what occurred while you were away? Or perhaps you'd be interested to know how and why I intend to bring everyone in Old Haven to the surface?"
Kaylee drew in a sharp breath. "Really?"
"Oh yes. We've already started." He gestured at her. "Even you are a part of it."
"Me? How?" She frowned.
Elijah paused, looking suddenly awkward, as though he had somehow said too much. "Ah… we need you to do," he cleared his throat, "something." He gave a warm grin, displaying his off-white but very straight teeth. "Let's not get into that just yet."
He took a drink from a mug on the table. "Are you sure you don't want anything? Victor does know how to make an excellent cup of coffee." Before she could respond, he spoke again. "I do apologize for what must have seemed like a rather pointless errand."
Kaylee grimaced, absentmindedly rubbing the tender bumps and bruises she had incurred. Elijah continued, "I assure you, it had great importance towards many things," he cast his eyes away, sheepish, "though none of them are specifically related to peaches."
She frowned, staring at the old man. Before she could summon a biting retort, he continued. "The truth is that we fed distressing information to the Citizenship then caught their forces in a crossfire when they came to deal with us. We never intended for you to meet any of them fleeing."
Kaylee cocked her head, curiosity overriding her irritation. "How exactly did you manage to feed them information?"
"We utilized an informant." Elijah averted his gaze.
"Who?" Kaylee's tone radiated hostility.
Elijah cleared his throat. "What Jeffrey divulged in his interrogation was vital to the success of the ambush," he leaned back in his chair, "and it worked." He said with a sad smile. "Far better than we could have hoped."
"Oh, so I guess he wasn't just delayed. You sacrificed him on purpose?"
Elijah gave her a shocked look. "I assure you it was entirely necessary-"
"Screw necessary; you used him!" Kaylee balled her fists.
"No, that isn't it at all-"
"I can't believe I ever trusted you." She leapt to her feet. "You're nothing but-"
Before Kaylee realized that her gesture could have been considered threatening, Victor had already jumped up and pulled his weapon.
"Stop!" Elijah yelled at Victor, who didn't fire but kept the pistol trained on Kaylee. She glared back and forth at both of them and slowly seated herself again. Victor instantly sat down, holstering the handgun.
"How could you?" she asked.
Elijah gave a grim smile and said in a stern tone, "No one regrets Jeffrey's loss more than I do, but he volunteered."
Kaylee swallowed hard, not wanting to forget her anger. "What did they do to him?"
Elijah grimaced. "He was beaten. Tortured. Subjected to an attempt at strong mental conditioning that I believe may have failed and given drugs to eliminate his ability to reproduce."
Kaylee gasped and covered her mouth.
Elijah nodded. "Horrific, I know. This is the typical treatment of anyone they pick up. After they're done, they send them for rudimentary societal and task training. They end up doing servant work for the Citizenship. They don't want to cook, clean, or," he frowned, "speak to their children, unless absolutely necessary."
Kaylee's mind whirled. "This is what they do to the people they take? H-how do you know these things?"
Elijah cracked a half-smile and ignored the questions, continuing the story, "Jeffrey was preconditioned to respond in precise fashion to questioning with very specific answers, as well as prepared to withstand the brainwashing process." He coughed. "That's what we were hoping would happen, at least. That is why I sent you to the bunker last night."
"Wait, what for?" Kaylee was confused.
"To keep you out of the line of fire. The ambush and fighting could have spilled into any location." Elijah shrugged. "Even here, if things had gone quite awry."
Kaylee narrowed her eyes. "But why some dumb errand?"
Elijah cocked his head. "You don't seem to consciously avoid danger, so removing you far from its source seemed appropriate. Bunker errands are something you've done before, and there seemed little chance that you'd return before all Citizen soldiers were dispatched." He grimaced. "I did not anticipate you having such terrible luck. I'm very glad you're all right."
"Okay…" she ignored his relief for her well-being, a wary feeling rising in her, "why did you need me out of the line of fire?"
Elijah stood and strolled a few paces away. "Are you familiar with the man named Miguel, who calls himself the Silver Fox?"
Kaylee made a disgusted face. "That filthy pig? Everyone knows who he is and what he does…" She trailed off, noting that Elijah was fidgeting and trying not to look at her. "No. No, no, no. I am not getting close to that son of a bitch. It's not going to happen. I don't care what you need. No way!" She glared at him, still turned away from her. "Do you understand me? There is no goddamn way I'm going near that man! Do you hear me Elijah?"
Elijah turned towards her, a mixed expression of sadness and frustration on his face. "There is no one else for the job; do you hear me? We can't send one of our men because they won't be able to get close enough. None of the other women…" he trailed off, wincing. "Look, we feel as though none of the other women in this compound have nearly as good a chance as you at surviving the encounter, much less completing any task."
"Why?"
Elijah gave a sad smile. "Various reasons, but mostly it's your blind survival determination in spite of a penchant toward bad luck."
"Yeah, but-"
"Listen," he searched her eyes, "do you want to see the sun again?"
"Of course, but-"
"Then you must consider this for me." He grabbed her shoulders.
Kaylee's emotions flailed around her. Everyone, especially women, stay away from the northwest corner of the city. Always. No exceptions, she thought. Everyone knew it. Miguel was a horrible man who used women and threw them away to be used more by his greedy and hungry thugs. She wanted nothing to do with that man. What if it's really that important? A tiny voice sounded in her head. It can't hurt to hear him out.
She almost felt herself caving in, as though a small question would seal her fate. "What is it you need?" she whispered, closing her eyes and wishing she hadn't spoken.
Elijah breathed a sigh of relief. "Infiltration. I need you on the inside when we move."
"Move how?" Kaylee asked, detached.
Elijah sat down in the chair across from her. "All right. In order to strike against the Citizenship, we will need more forces. We need to recruit everyone we can in Old Haven. Miguel's people, as barbaric as many of them are, are greatest in number." He rubbed his face. "Miguel himself is a hostile, untrusting, power-hungry, chauvinistic, and selfish man. As he leads, they will never consider any alliance of equality."
"What am I supposed to do?" She got an uneasy feeling. "Do you… do you want me to kill him?" Kaylee was unsure of how she felt about this.
Elijah looked away. "Perhaps. It's possible you won't need to. The attack, if it happens, should bring about sufficient chaos for someone to make their own grab for power." He leveled his gaze back upon her. "Understand that he does need to be eliminated at any cost, but be careful. He's had some experience in dealing with attempts on his life, particularly," he gave a small cough, "from women."
"Why me?" she asked. "I mean, aside from blind determination."
Elijah hesitated. He finally said, "He prefers them to be of a more… volatile temperament." He cleared his throat. "You were the obvious choice."
Kaylee shot him a look. "So I need to get captured, is that it?"
"Well, yes…" Elijah gave her a consoling look. "Once you're brought to him, you should be, ah, mostly safe."
She bit her lip. "What else is there? You mentioned an attack?"
Elijah blew out a breath. "Hopefully, right now, the Citizenship thinks that Miguel is responsible for the bloodbath we handed them last night. If they do, they will move against him, and they will send devastating forces. During that confusion, something unfortunate is bound to happen to him," he looked at her intently, "and that's when we will come to the rescue of the survivors. Without Miguel, we will be their timely saviors, and their substantial numbers will be added to our ranks. Once the alliance becomes known and we spread the word of our escape from this lightless hell, every other individual under Haven will flock to our banner." Elijah beamed. "Then," he added, "we will ascend."
She sat in silence, considering the proposal. Elijah watched her intently. She knew she was already convinced and suspected he knew it as well. Why drag it out? she thought, sighing. "Okay. I'll do it."
He clapped his hands together. "Good! Good. Okay." He put on a huge smile. "You don't have to leave just yet; we're waiting for a few other things to happen."
Kaylee cocked her head. "Like what?"
"If an attack on Miguel is going to be organized, we need to know about it. No sense in sending you off to be captured for no reason." She shuddered, wondering how he would find out about an impending attack. She didn't ask.
"But enough of that business, for now." He radiated relief. "Tell me, what actually happened after you left the bunker?"
Kaylee rubbed her eyes, sat back, and unfolded the entire story of her staying in a room up to her encounter with the fleeing soldiers. Elijah frowned, apologizing repeatedly and wincing at every bump, bruise, or knock on the head she described. Kaylee included her mysterious savior, as well. She didn't mention his glowing eyes or oddly-colored skin, for some reason, and she did not speak about her nightmare.
Elijah rubbed his chin. "It's amazing and very fortunate you didn't get killed or captured. Again, I cannot apologize enough for your trouble. It seems my plan to remove you from danger was completely futile." He threw his hands up. "Well, whatever. If you see this Malcolm character again, send him my profound thanks."
Sensing that it was time to get moving, Kaylee stood up and s
tretched. She still didn't trust Elijah entirely, but she felt less on edge the more time she spent with him. He didn't look like much: thin, old, gray hair, not terribly tall, but he had a natural charisma around him difficult to despise. I guess this is why people trust him so much, she thought.
"Our time is short, but if I am correct, you should be able to spend the next day or so relaxing. The accommodations, I assure you, will be most excellent." He smiled at her again. "Thank you for your help, Kaylee."
She nodded, not saying anything as Victor scraped the bolts free once more, swinging the door open enough for her to squeeze out. Before shutting it completely, he spoke in that familiar, passive voice. It was difficult for Kaylee to shake herself from thinking it as Elijah's. "You will be summoned when it is time." He passed her an object: a key. "Up the stairs, to the top floor. Second room on the left." He disappeared and closed the door.
The guard came back down the hallway, magazine tucked under his arm. He sat down without a word.
Kaylee stared at the key in her hand. She shrugged and followed the directions. She moved up the stairs, passing a few random people who nodded or muttered brief greetings. At the second door on the left, she slid the key into the lock and turned it, hearing the click.
Her jaw dropped as she opened the door. Inside lay a king-sized bed with massive patterned quilts: a little faded but in excellent condition. There was a small cabinet which, upon inspection, held several cans of non-perishable foods. Floral wallpaper decorated the room, and there was an easy chair and a television, not that there were any broadcasts. The bathroom had a wide tub, which she gave a cry of delight to discover had clean running water. "Excellent accommodations is right," she whispered, giddy.
Back in the main room, she flopped down on the bed, feeling pleasure at the softness of it. A stack of magazines and a few books lay on the table. She rolled over and let out a long sigh of contentment before giggling with excitement. Not bad, she thought…