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One afternoon Peter and John were going up to the temple at the hour of prayer, the ninth hour. And a man who was lame from birth was being carried to the temple gate called Beautiful, where he was put every day to beg from those entering the temple courts. When he saw Peter and John about to enter, he asked them for money.
Peter looked directly at him, as did John. “Look at us!” said Peter. So the man gave them his attention, expecting to receive something from them. But Peter said, “Silver or gold I do not have, but what I have I give you: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, get up and walk!”
Taking him by the right hand, Peter helped him up, and at once the man’s feet and ankles were made strong. He sprang to his feet and began to walk. Then he went with them into the temple courts, walking and leaping and praising God.
Rated: M - Dead Dove Do Not Eat This takes place in the Outlast 2 universe after all.
Read from beginning: CH: 1 Death
Previous chap: CH: 12 Wyrd
Next chap: CH: 14 Seraph
__________________
~Ch: 13 Blight~
Winter came and went, the snow had stopped falling to reveal fresh growth in the forest. The fields full of newly sprouted crops covered the land with green. Blake was eased when he saw it developing so well. Knowing he wouldn't need to buy more cans. His only stress of late was that Val had gone missing around late February. Staying gone until late march before popping up again. He shrugged it off as her checking in at home. Having stayed mainly in Temple Gate at this point for a few months. She's practically moved in, why doesn't she move everyone else? They don't want to? Assuming that was the reason without being able to directly ask. He still didn't want John to be aware that Val was discovered.
Not long after her return, John came forward with a request from Val. “People are getting sick again. We need more medicine and some pain killers.”
“Painkillers? What do they have?”
“We think it's what they had before. Nasty cough, hard breathing, the cold never lets up in the mines.”
“Why the pain killers though?”
“... Val didn't say.” Shifting his shoulders.
“Didn't say or wont tell me?”
“Won't, but I know it's very important.”
“You know it won't help any sickness, right? If someone actually broke a leg they need a doctor.”
“I know, it's for something else. I promise it's very important.”
“Okay.” He sighed. “I'll give one bottle, that's it, unless she tells me what it's for.”
“Thank you, that's all we'll need.”
Blake passed on the bottles. Expecting after a week to hear about the Voltaire's recovery from their ills. John however was missing with Mathew speaking for him instead at the meeting. “Dads sick.” The look Blake shot him had him reaffirm. “He's actually really sick. He's been coughing his lungs out and his necks really swollen. Was too tired to get out of bed this morning.”
Doesn't look like a lie. And so, he dismissed it.
It started off small, easily dismissed by everyone. A day later, A few coughing were thought to have colds. At worst a case of the flu and needed bed rest. A few stayed home from work to rest with others staying to care for family members. A few, became a lot the next day. Many were staying home either sick or caring for others. Waving it off as the flu couldn't be done anymore. People were turning anxious, paranoid of its cause. Many turned their eyes to the freshly integrated healed. Blake felt the tension in groups drifting apart. The healed and the townies before gathered only with themselves to whisper about the other half. Blake called another meeting in almost an emergency fashion. Trying to avoid a panic if he mentioned an outbreak was happening. Afraid to find out what it could be.
John still hadn't returned and others were missing. Confirmed by Mathew. “Liam had trouble this morning and three of Marta's guard. They were all moved for better care.”
Being one of the first ill, Blake had to know. “Your father seen any improvement?”
“No, he's gotten worse. I had to bring him to the infirmary this morning. Others gaining a cough like him are getting just as bad. Something serious is going around.”
Blake wanted to be sure and followed up with a visit. Shocked to see how bad John was in bed. Wheezing worse than him after running for his life. Neck swollen twice past its normal size. His hacking horribly dry that it pained Blake's own throat. Many others left bedridden were in various lesser stages of John's. Aside from John the others were all younger, around Blake's age. Worried further by Mathew passing on another request from Val. “They need more medicine.”
“Have they gotten any better?”
“Doesn't sound like it from what my dad said.”
John wasn't the first. “... I'll give more, but if it doesn't improve then this is something more serious.”
Mathew hung his head low. “Will we have to force a quarantine?”
“Yes.” Blake's answer scared the boy. Quick to reassure him. “Hopefully not long. We have the doctor who can test for things. Our medicine may not work, but another we don't have, could. Keep an eye on anymore cases like this popping up. Keep a written record of any symptoms you notice. I'll take John into town and hopefully we'll find out things soon and get an order on medicine moving.”
Scrubbing down before leaving he ran to gather up a small team to help transport the poor man to town. Making masks out of tightly wrapped gauze Blake, John, Mathew and Jacob crammed into the truck. The doctor saw them right away with Blake standing nearby in the room. Watching the doctor check John over with a mask and gloves. Looking down the back of John's throat his face scrunched up. “Eesh, a lot of gray at the back.”
“Whats that mean?”
“Dead tissue build up, but I think I know what this is now. Your people caught Diphtheria. A bit surprising since this is usually covered by child vaccines. It's a serious infection that causes nasty breathing problems, swollen neck, dead tissue and eventual buildup of toxins in the body.”
“How do we treat it?”
“Almost easy, you got half of it right now, keep the ill on antibiotics. It won't cure, but long as they keep taking them the spreading stops. For the other half, an actual cure, we'll need to order antitoxin. Figure out how many cases you got, because if they're as bad as he is you'll need multiple doses.”
“How long will it take to deliver?”
“On express delivery? Could take three months.”
“Three months?!”
“Maybe six. Antitoxin isn't really demanded on the market like antibiotics. Ain't too easy sneaking a stash away. Seeing a specific medication like that disappear would throw up alarms to the government. Heh, It's easier to commit tax fraud.”
“Can you put in an order TO the government?!”
“And have those assholes come questioning me at my office? No thanks, I ain't lookin' for a vacation in a cell. They'll wanna see why there's a sudden outbreak here and that'll also lead back to your town.”
“Ugh, what if I spread it around? Government can see for themselves then if people visit other doctors.” Feeling awful for tossing up the idea.
“You wanna spread a plague?!”
“Well, what happens if they don't get the antitoxin?”
“Eeh, they might live after ten days, but they'll suffer a lot of organ damage, brain damage and uh, death.” He sighed. “Guess the idea isn't so bad.” Mumbling to himself the next bit. “Maybe I'll get paid by some relief program for this.” Clapping his hands together. “OKAY! Diphtheria's one of the easiest to spread. Drag him through public and let him hack his lungs out. I suggest around morn parkway, red brick avenue, and sunrise drive. They're the fancy rich neighborhoods. Those people can afford a rush to the doctors and we'll have an order in, in a few days. Then maybe a day more, or less for arrival. Rich people can't afford to die, they got money to make!”
Uncomfortable, although somewhat appreciative, by the doctors gung-ho attitude to do this. “Uh, yeah, thanks for the suggestion.” Feeling worse as he paraded John around the town all while he hacked and wheezed. Receiving all sorts of glares from the rich people judging them. He kept it up all day before they returned to Temple Gate. Knowing what people had was serious, he made announcements on the fly down the streets. He didn't want people shoving themselves into the hall for a gathering. Meanwhile he had Mathew move ill to the quarantine. Put on immediate treatment of antibiotics along with the medical staff. Meeting up with him when he was sure the town was warned.
“Mathew I need you to go see Val. Tell her what's going on and that it's very important to move the Voltaire to quarantine. They won't last in the mines without regular care. When we get the antitoxin they'll have to stay for regular treatment afterwards until they're cured. This isn't a small case of pneumonia like last time.”
“Move them to quarantine? I don't know if she'll do that. She hates this place!”
“None of us have much of a choice.”
“I'll try, sir.”
Temple Gate was slammed back by the illness spreading over the day. Tensions were rising in the few snippets of conversations he overheard. “We knew this would happen.” “Those scalled are infecting us.” “Our souls are becoming diseased like theirs.” “We need to reject them.” “Who cares what he said.” “They caused this.” “Cast them out.”
Fuck. What do I say? What he had said already was being tossed to the side.
Undermined by someone else catching attention on the streets. “Our prophet cast them out to protect us. None of you listened and look. You're paying the price of disobedience. Pray, pray to him for forgiveness and ask that a sign be given. Have faith that he will answer us to smite those scall-”
“Farlow!” Blake shouted, silencing his street side gathering.
“What do you want?”
“This is just an illness. It wasn't caused by any shit excuse Knoth made to hide his disgusting sexual abuse.”
He scoffed. “What else could it be? You took them back in and we were soon ravaged by disease. Those filthy lepers were cast out for a reason! If we are to save the rest still healthy you must turn to God. Follow his teach-”
“Knoth's words didn't come from God!”
“What do I expect from a fallen angel? Devil, you drag us down lower each day.”
He rolled his eyes. “No, I'm not that. You done?”
“The lord's work is never done. If you don't attend to it, then I will.” He looked to a few on his right. “Are you ready?” A wide set smile on his face that tensed up the others. “Things will only be right when he is gone. You know this.” Hand pointing from them to Blake.
Each man at his side looked to Blake. One reached for something in a side pocket. Blake tensed in knowing it wasn't a pleasant surprise. A choking hold the air held was cut down by a towering shadow's appearance. Farlows men went pale under her glaring eyes. His own smile dropped into a submissive look away. Watching her from out of the corner of his eye.
“Are you smart, or are you dead men?” It was all the warning she had to give.
They separated themselves from Farlow, who stayed to challenge Marta with a silent glare.
“Well?”
“... May God forgive you.” Trotting off out of view.
“Hmph, fool.”
“Thanks.” Blake sighed out the next. “Have any good news?”
She shook her head. “More of the healed are being harassed. Me and the guard have been separating arguers all day.”
He rubbed his head, unsure of what to say.
“Hate to say, but more of my guard is falling to the sickness. By tonight they'll have to enter quarantine, If not sooner.”
“Alright. Stay on patrol as much as you can.” Their meeting kept short to return to their duties.
Blake handed out what meds they could until they were out. Left waiting for when the antitoxin would come in. Mathew came back with more bad news by Val refusing to move her clan into quarantine. Blake let out a chain of curses. Dammit Val, why not?! “Tell her-”
Interrupted by Mathew stating how dead serious Val was on the matter. “They won't be moved anywhere near Temple Gate. No negotiating.”
“Fuck, fine, okay.” Having no choice but to let Val handle her cases. Driving back and forth to the town for the next couple of days. Picking up more supplies of antibiotics with the hopes that the antitoxin would be there as well. The disease spreading rapidly had slammed to a complete stop from the antibiotics. Soon as someone coughed they were sent to quarantine. The healthy remaining were doing their best to run Temple Gate on a skeleton crew.
Blake was repeatedly hit with a barrage of questions. “Can you do something?” “Does God not help his angels?” “Why isn't the medicine helping like before?” “Did the scalled cause this?” “Should we cast them out?” “Are we diseased of the soul?” “How long do the ill have?” “Should we prepare a fire burial?” “When will you reap them?” His answers fell on deaf ears as their faith in him waned. The rest he had no solid answers for. “Shouldn't the Angel of Death know?”
His nightmares were asking the same questions. Lynn sitting on a throne of rocks with her organs stretched from her carved body to tangle with the tree branches. Time flashing between day and night. Her body looked more intact one moment then half rotten the next with flies swarming out her openings. “Have you told them they're dying? Why haven't you started on the coffins?” She smiled unnaturally wide. A mouth of teeth stained by blood letting insects swarm in between. “You prefer to watch don't you? You looked at her body and wanted to see more.” Her voice deepened to another's he didn't want to hear. “I can help. It's natural. Just let me-”
He jolted up from bed to cover his mouth. Ready to vomit if he hadn't swallowed it down. “Ugh, shit.” He breathed out. His skin prickled at the last words repeating in his mind. Remembering them, yet he wasn't sure where from. They came from him, but not during his time at St. Sybil. Further into his thoughts he tensed to not go any deeper. Facing a wall of not only warning, but a physical threat to turn back. Heeding it he focused on what the day may bring. Fresh morning turned sour as soon as he stepped out the hall. Marta was separating a bunch of complainers. Looking as interested as anybody would listening to children argue over something stupid.
Holding back he wanted to hear everything first before interfering. Expecting Marta to solve the issue without him anyway. It was the same old complaints he'd gotten the past few days. Looping over and over it was getting nowhere with Marta. Stepping forward to get in the mix he started up his list of explanations. Reasons falling on deaf ears all the other times he expected the same here. “I'm trying. I've talked to the doctor and we-” A screech of pain caught everyone's attention. Blake ran in the direction and Marta ran ahead before he got far. Finding the source of the sound within a group of men. One held his bloody face, gouged across, with two palms. Another held their own broken nose that bled as much. Three more around them unable to offer much in the way of help.
Marta reached them first. “What happened?”
One of the uninjured answered. “Fuckin' one of the scalled.” Glancing away. “We was mindin' our business when one of 'em crossed us. Started rantin' some gibberish an' we told 'em to go away. Wouldn't let up.”
Blake was listening at first then tuned out the longer their side was explained.
Glances switched between him, Marta and the ground. “We walked away from 'em and they followed us.” Crossing his arms his fingers tapped over one. “We just had enough. Shoved 'em away and they freaked out on us. Almost took Greg's eye an' knocked Dole's nose sideways. Guess they realized the fuck up an' ran off.” Shifting himself in a sway that made Blake sea sick.
Marta had looked away from him toward the ground. A separating set of tracks had her scrunch her face up. Mumbling verses under her breath she faced them. “You see their face?”
“No, they were covered like every other scalled.”
“Mm.” A knowing glance given to Blake. “In all black I assume?”
“Ye-”
Blake interrupted. “This is a bunch of horseshit. You all started this.”
“What, you kiddin' me?! It was those diseased rats that-”
“You can work overtime on the farms and wait until your last to get dinner. That goes for all of you.”
“Fuck off you-” They crowded him and only got back when Marta jabbed them in the chest.
“You want a broken nose like him?” Jabbing him a few times. “Get to the farms and you better be there when I get there.” Sending them off ahead of her to speak alone with Blake.
“You think she started it?” Knowing exactly who it was they had the bad luck of crossing.
“Nay, it was them. This has been happening and it's gettin' worse by the day. Attacking healed just for passin' their homes. Haven't had one of them fight back. Too afraid to is my guess on the assumption poor behavior will get them cast out again.”
“I don't know what I can do to fix this. We need the medicine, but the medicine might not be here in the next few days.”
“Should we separate them?” Clarifying. “Around the hospital?”
“I don't want to do that. What if it becomes the old place part two?”
“Can be temporary 'till the medicine gets here. Otherwise you might need to start using that jail instead of the farms.”
“We might not have a big enough jail.”
“Uh, Angel.” A woman's voice grabbed Blake and Marta's attention. A few healed had come forward off a bigger group lagging back. She was covered in light gray fabrics that didn't entirely cover her. Most her arms showing were covered in white gauze. Exposed fingers scared all over matching the skin he could see of her face. Still tinted a red from the thinner layers of skin starting to grow back after so long. Voice on the raspy side after suffering her illness. “We heard you talking, sorry.” Voice kept quiet to avoid offense.
Blake mimicked her volume to not scare them off. “Yes?”
“We wouldn't mind a closed space of our own. If we stay in charge of it… And we could be armed.”
“How armed? I can't give you crossbows.”
“Nothin' like that. We were hopin' mostly for blades. Easy to carry and easy to hide on us. It'll give us a bite to defend ourselves when we need to.”
“I don't want to arm you and make the fights worse.”
“Don't have much else, with how we are after the disease. Some can't run, others can't fight either, but a blade could at least buy them time for help to reach 'em.”
Marta threw in her two cents. “It's gettin' worse, least give them some chance.”
He hummed. “Alright, pick up what you thinks best. I'll find more to give you… You want to make a space? Is that best? The assumptions about you may never get better.”
“Those that care are already treatin' us fine. As for the rest, we don't care much for what they say. They're the ones who chanted for us to be sent to the rotten quarantine in the first place. If we're armed, they're words won't matter if they try sending us again. As for our new space. This time it'll be us making it to keep others out. A home we can run to, lock up tight, and defend long as we need.”
“Sounds more like a fort than a space.”
“That's the idea.”
“Where are you planning on making it?”
“Where most of us are livin' round the hospital.”
“I don't think I can support blocking off the hospital.”
“We ain't stopping people from coming and going unless we really have to. If it gets that dire there will be bigger issues to see to first.” Mentioning a sort of compromise. “For guarding the stock of medicine we wont stock up on food. If we lock down we'll have to leave eventually then.”
“... Alright. I need to plan this out land wise. Come back later around dinner. I might have something planned we can look over or we can at least discuss it better then.”
“Thank you, Angel.”
“You don't gotta...” About to mention the angel thing, but let it go. “What's your name?”
“Asher.”
“You want to lead on this?”
“The fort build?”
“All of it. The fort, the healed.”
“Like a lord?”
“Sure, wouldn't hurt to have another. Mathews in charge of the hospital, but not the healed really. Someone from the healed should get a voice to speak up at the meetings for them.”
“Would love to, Angel. Never lead anythin' before though.”
“That's fine, you'll match everyone else.” Speaking then to Marta. “After you check on the farms can you check what builders we have that aren't sick.”
“Last I checked we had a small group. Liam always drew up the plans though for these big builds.”
“Ah, a wall cant be too hard to build.”
She gave him a sort of side eye then looked away.
“I'll figure it out,” He huffed. “I'll make something out of rocks and Popsicle sticks first.”
“Mmhm. We still visiting the doctor today?”
“Yes, visit the farms, see builders, then we'll go. Should be afternoon by then.”
Blake spent his few hours running around to count the sick. Ordering the worsening cases to go into quarantine. Breaking up fights throughout the day had made him sore. Checking the farms he stood by Marta watching a group of punished trouble makers. James was able to keep up with all the extra hands on top of the regular turned skeleton crew. Making sure James could handle them without Marta watching, they left for the doctors.
Come on, come on, come on! Fearing the doctor would say no as he entered the office.
The secretary seeing him flashed a big grin. “Ay, your meds finally here. Doctors got a bunch of it set up for ya. He wants you to see him first though.”
“Oh, thank God.” Blake took a deep breath. Rushing back to see the doctor.
“Ah, my favorite patient. I assume you got the good news. I wanted to show you how to administer it before you get it.” Gesturing them to head inside one of the exam rooms.
“Administer it?”
“Yes, these don't come in pill form.” Showing two glass bottles in hand. “This one is the antitoxin and this one is a booster the government gave out.” Pointing to one then the other. Setting the anti toxin down to grab a syringe. Pointing to a certain measurement. “This is how much you need to give for a dosage of the antitoxin. This is very important, depending on the case, One shot per week until they start getting better. That should happen after about three weeks for the worst cases.” Taking a dosage from the booster. Showing where the level stopped in the syringe. “This is for the booster. I suggest getting your doses now.” Gesturing to Blake and Marta. “Left you a case with the antitoxin.”
“Thanks.” Blake got ready to take his shot. And Marta getting hers before hauling the crates carefully back home. Blake showed medical staff the dosages along with proper instruction to not share needles between patients. Going elsewhere to give vaccines to those healthy still. Exhausted by the end of the day he met with Mathew again to go have another talk with Val. “Since these aren't pills, I can't chance them making it safely to the mines. If they break we can't get more like the antibiotics. They have to come to quarantine for treatment.
“She doesn't want that. What if we meet at the ration drop off?”
“They got sick first, didn't they? How bad are their cases?”
“As bad as dads.”
“Then they'll need multiple doses over the next four weeks, can they make the multiple journeys back and forth?”
Mathew looked to the floor. “I don't think they can even make one trip.”
“Go tell her to bring them, she has to. I'm willing to help bring them down if that's a problem.”
He sucked in a tense breath, rubbing his head. “Yes, sir.”
The message he got back the next day wasn't anymore cooperative. “She refuses and it's getting hard to talk with her. She wants the medicine delivered and nothing else.”
Goddammit Val! “Tell her, or don't that, that's not happening.” Dropping it there to handle treatment of those listening. Concocting some idea all day about how to handle them. He didn't want to leave them for dead and he'd have to work fast to make sure that didn't happen. A day passed without Blake knowing what to do. Another unhelpful message passed on by Mathew. Who didn't want to repeat what Val said. Giving up on that path he figured the only thing to do was to overstep Val's authority entirely.
He called an emergency meeting of a few select lords. John and Liam were sick and Mathew was purposefully left out due to the topic at hand. “We're going to capture the Voltaire for treatment.”
“With what?” James scoffed. “A quarter of the guard are too ill for that. If they don't want treatment, leave 'em up there.”
“We're going and I'm not arguing on this. Tomorrow we're leaving early morning to the mines, including you James. I don't think they'll be in any condition to fight.”
“What about Val?”
“I'll handle her. Meet here, early morning to suit up and go.” Dismissing everyone. Putting the rest of the plan into motion he talked to Marta on the side. “Seen Val in Temple Gate or has she gone?”
“She's been coming here, then leaving shortly after. Mathews not good at keeping the meetings subtle like John. Meeting her around the farm fields every morning.”
“That could work in our favor... Change of plans, without telling him who, have James snag Val for early morning work after her meeting. She'll be distracted long enough for us to reach the mines before her.”
“She's gonna be pissed when she finds out.”
“I know, maybe by some miracle she'll just agree to go along before then.” Separating from Marta to go normally about their day. Worrying until early next morning when he met up with the guard, short three people. Slipping into one of the hefty armored uniforms he picked up a catcher's loop. Sneaking everyone out of Temple Gate before the sun rose. Rowing a boat across the misted lake he watched Temple Gate fade behind them. Stepping onto the shore across the way to continue on foot. Wheezing already at the start of the mountain slope. Wanting to rush the three hour travel there. A moment taken when they met the mouth of the cave. A darkened opening covered by drooping roots out growing their surrounding dirt. Suddenly feeling ill at his last memory of this place. Escaping with Lynn before her grizzly death. Knowing very well that her dying spot wasn't too far from here. Was her body still strung in the trees? Or long rotten by now to become food for crows? Swallowing, he avoided dwelling on the thought traveling too depressingly deep.
Marta certainly noticed his pale complexion. “You alright?”
“Yeah, come on.” He breathed out. Approaching the cave to peek inside its darkening length. He shined a flashlight into it. Seeing nothing much else but mine walls.
“Want me first?” She offered.
“Yeah, but be careful.” Watching her step in before he did. Turning back to the others for a quick instruction. “Stay close and put a hand on the shoulder of the one in front of you. If you're grabbed from the back, we'll know right away.” Doing as they were told down the deep dark cave. Blake could see his own breath with how cold it was getting. The lack of fire making this place feel like a freezer. Fucking hell. It'd be goddamn warmer to sleep outside. Shivering without extra layers for the cold. Winding down the tunnels with multiple piles of rubble still covered in old blood. Stench of rot clinging to them hinted at the buried tunnels being tombs. Watching Marta navigate through the shrinking tunnels was beginning to worry him. Any smaller and she wouldn't be able to continue crouching low enough.
Marta stopped at a widening area. “Mm.”
“What?”
Looking at him over her shoulder. “No ones here.” Stepping forward to let everyone into the cave clearing. A large, half collapsed, room that was covered by spreading cobwebs.
“Stay close, but look around.” Walking further in their was nothing much else. “Fuck, maybe Mathew made her too paranoid and she moved?”
“Doubt it. They've been gone a long while it looks.” Pointing to the various remains of a camp. Shifting her stick through a pile of ashes where a fire used to be made. Old footprints blown away from the breeze coming down the main shaft. Old bloody bandages disintegrating from age. Bones of small animals left in a web covered pile. Spiders infesting all the crevices they could across the rocks.
“Any idea where they could have moved to?”
“Another cave I'd bet. Problem is the mines went all throughout these mountains with various openings. After that storm though, I don't know how many lasted.” Pointing her staff to a massive pile of rubble at the back.”
“Fuck it, we don't have time for this.”
“You're giving up?”
“No, we're heading back and we're going to follow Val.”
“You want to grab the Voltaire then?”
“Yes.”
“While Val's there?”
Blake froze, being in such a rush he didn't stop to think that he'd have to face Val after following her. “Uh… Maybe not today. We'll follow her then return the next.”
“Maybe we should bring Mathew?” Feeding him an idea. “A diplomat to help keep everyone calm. They'll still try to fight the whole way otherwise.”
“Yeah, yes, let's do that.” Starting their three hour travel back to Temple Gate. The group tired from their stressful mission ending in failure.
“Want a small team to go instead of all of us?” Marta hid a suggestion in a question.
“Yeah.” He nodded.
Marta pointed her staff toward two guards. “You two follow us. Rest of you, go get some sleep to head out early tomorrow.” Walking up until they could see the fields from a distance.
“See her?”
“Mm.” Scanning across the horizon. “Yes.”
“Okay, have James let her go. You get them following. I'm going to talk with Mathew one last time to try convincing Val.”
“Good luck.”
He raced over back to quarantine, where he pulled Mathew aside. Urgently whispering his plea. “You have to convince her. This is the last chance I'm going to offer her.”
“I can't convince her! She refuses anything you or I try to offer. She's started shutting me down before I can get a word out if she doesn't like what she hears.”
“Just give it one more try.”
“I-” He heard his father start hacking from the other room. Rushing away from Blake to his side. “You okay?”
“A bit.” Coughing some more. “Ugh, feel like a slug.”
“After a few more weeks you'll be doing better.”
“Shit, how's everyone else doing?”
“Better with the medicine.”
Blake crushed the small uplift. “Except for the Voltaire. Val refuses to cooperate on getting them treatment. We can’t hike the bottles up there and risk breaking them. She refuses to bring them here and making multiple trips for us or them to be treated is not possible. I'm out of options if Mathew can't convince her this time to cooperate, then they're going to die up there.”
“What?! Wait, Let me go this time. I've dealt with her stubbornness a lot more than my boy.”
Mathew argued against that. “You're too sick to go.”
“It's just talking to Val.” Going into a coughing fit he slowed. “Even if she is a pain.”
“Okay.” Blake agreed. “You have to convince her, John. This is her last chance, and make sure she knows that too. Maybe she'll agree then.”
“Yes sir.”
Fearing the day of the raid he held back. Given the news by the scouting guards where the new Voltaire cave was. Finding that it was actually further south from the new quarantine zone. Still being a six hour journey there and back. When the day after tomorrow came, Marta kept watch for Val and John to meet by the fields. Running to gather the guard and James for a repeat of distracting Val until they returned. Snagged for farming duty before she could slip away after meeting John. Blake went off to get the final message from him. It wasn't good based on his expression.
“So that's it then?” Blake confirmed.
“... Can I try again?” His voice softened to defeat.
“That was it, no more talking, we can't wait any longer. But I won't let them die either. I'm going over Val and you have a choice to make. I know Val's been in Temple Gate. I know where the Voltaire moved to. I will be heading out with the guard to capture them for treatment. Either you wait in jail until me and my group returns or you come with us to act as diplomat.”
“NO!” John panicked. “YOU CAN'T DO THAT! I CAN'T DO THAT!” Suffering an absolute breakdown as a coughing fit took over. “If she finds out, she'll kill us!” He wheezed between fits. “ALL of us! She'll burn this place to the ground! YOU CAN'T!”
Blake was almost startled back. Swallowing down what nerves crept up from his gut. This has to be done. “Those are your choices. If you stay, I'll have to take Mathew. It's going to happen even if the both of you refuse. With one of you however, we hope to keep everyone calm and safe.”
John repeated on the verge of tears. “You can't, you can't, you can't!”
“If I don't they'll all die! Is that better?! Val's forced my hand!”
“Let me talk to her! Let me-”
“NO! I'm not giving you the chance to warn her we're coming. Are you coming with us? Or do I have to jail you to stay quiet and ask Mathew instead?”
Holding back another fit. “No! I'll go, I'll go! Please-” Sniffling away the tears to pull himself together. Wheezing another plea. “Please, this is going to go horribly wrong! Please don't!” Fresh tears collected.
“I'll make sure no one gets hurt.” Assisting John in walking out to the lake where they met the guard.
“You don't understand! You don't understand! You don't-” He mumbled repeatedly as they crossed the lake. Mumbling various other panicked warnings not to continue. Landing on the other side they followed up an overgrown trail toward the new Voltaire home. John mentally breaking down the closer they got. Seeing the new cave entrance, Blake went to John's side for a calming talk. Rubbing one of John's shoulders to help pull him together.
“Vals not here, okay? I made sure she's distracted. I don't want anybody hurt. We're doing this to make sure they get treated and cared for. After you, Marta's going in to make sure everybody's calm. To keep everyone safe on the way back they'll have to be tied. When we finally do get back we're setting them in the jail instead of quarantine. Only because I don't know how they'll react or if Val will try to make them break quarantine. Take some deep breaths and go talk to them. You have a minute to let them know what's going to happen. Any longer and I'll assume they're trying to take a back exit.”
He sniffed and wheezed until he could speak again. “O-okay, just give me a minute.” Rubbing his face before walking up into the cave.
Blake tapped his foot the longer John took. Wind blowing through the trees above, his eyes darted to a few falling pine needles. Mistaken as movement from a person hiding in the tree line. He glanced back to see the town off in the distance across the misty lake. Switching to check on his team standing by. Their attention caught between the cave and on falling needles. Marta was locked onto the mouth of the cave. He ignored the shifting sounds around him to focus on Marta's reaction. If someone approached from anywhere, she would know. It felt like time had stopped on the outside. Facing the entrance he was fidgeting on whether to go in or not. Stiffening when Marta perked at an approach inside the cave.
“Okay.” John stepped from the inside. “Uh- Most will follow, but Ayzel. You've met him before. Don't turn your back on him and I would keep him extra tied.” He warned before stepping out of the way.
“Thank you.” Helping John sit down on a log.
Waiting for Marta to duck into the cave before he followed right behind. Guards walking closely front to back with hands on shoulders. Passing by the start of tunnels that could have an ambush waiting. Passing by they saw all were collapsed like the last mining tunnel. Lacking its distinct smell of death this time. Air turned cold enough to see their breath again. Made worse by the wind blowing in he double checked if their was frost on his arms. Marta slowed toward the middle of the main tunnel. Squeezing by a cluster of annoying roots on the wall. Slowing onward before the tunnel grew wider ahead. Holding out a palm to make Blake stay back. At the end she was jumped by the one warned of. Slashing at her with a broken blade. She slammed the air out of him with a punch to the ribs. Knocking him down with a slam of her cane to his face. Grabbing his neck to pin him down fully.
“Fuck off bitchh!” He spat at her. Slurring words while over pronouncing others past his crooked jaw. “I'll rip out every organ you hhave! Keep your hhead ash a trophy!” Raging against her grip. She held him without much struggle until the rest of the guard swarmed in to tie him. Binding him so much he'd need to be carried the whole way back. “Fucking Temple Gate bastards! Wretched whhore maggots!” Continuing his verbal assault from the ground.
Blake ignored the shouting to study the home of the Voltaire. It was Homey-er then he expected an old mining cave to be. Upside down carts turned into tables with logs for benches. A small carved out area for a fire pit covered by a red metal barrel holding the huge pot he gave. Its surroundings a makeshift kitchen holding the other cooking pots and boxes of rations next to a flat rock covered in old blood for butchering. Beds holding all the sick members were made of twigs, bones and various furs for cover other than the blankets given. Noticing Val's artistry using twigs to assemble small bits of artwork. A goat, made of them, sitting on one of the tables. Birds and a few small dolls made in a similar fashion stuck on the walls. Nothing like the last huge satanic idols she made in the other caves.
The Voltaire themselves appeared as sick as Blake expected them to be. Most laying down or sitting up in bed looking exhausted from hacking all the time. Coughing regularly kept silence from filling the room. Pained by their wheezing of each breath he planned how to hike them down the mountain side. “Take him outside.” Blake ordered for Ayzel, who shouted all sorts of insults. “Okay, to clarify what John had to rush through.” He started toward the remaining. “We're taking you to Temple Gate for treatment of your illness. Regular pills alone can't cure it and you'll need multiple doses depending on how sick you are. When you're cured you can come right back here. Before then, you'll be forced to stay in quarantine there between one to three weeks, depending.” Gesturing for the guard to start gathering people.
Without a fuss they were gathered for their hands to be tied and seated outside before the walk back would begin. Blake walked out with a squeeze by the annoying root cluster. Joining Marta's side who watched over it all. Standing by her side he held himself from fidgeting under all the stares. Judging by how they locked only on him, they knew who he was. Shifting his gaze to keep from staring he watched how his guard worked. Weather any were showing old grudges in their treatment toward the once enemies. None of them were rougher then they needed to be. Standing by in waiting for the next step as things wrapped up. Turning to John fidgeting on a log he tensed up each time someone went in to fetch another. Tensing at each walk out then relaxing. When the guards stopped bringing people out, he still glanced at the cave. Rubbing his face he looked away briefly to let out a long breath fogging the cold air. Blake looked away to the cave. A move that had him see John tense up again. Disturbed their house enough I guess. Raking a hand through his hair he stepped forward to give the final order to leave. Quieted by Marta's staff smacking into his chest.
He looked at her and she whispered. “Two are missing.”
Whispering back. “How do you know?”
“Twenty-seven rations, but only twenty-five.” Cane waved in gesture to the seated.
“Extras? Or...” Thinking the worst.
“Look at him.” Tipping her head to John. Looks shot toward the cave whenever someone so much as walked close to it. “He's hidin' something.” Heading back for the cave followed by Blake.
He gave one glance back to John and saw how wide eyed tense he got. Reaching the room they followed its edges in search of anything they missed. Without anything there Marta took to checking under furniture. Chucking a mine cart to the side created a loud clank.
“Ay!” Stopping her thrashing of the place. “Don't mess up their home! They'll want to return here later.”
She grumbled something then loosely set the mine cart back where it was. Passing to check the next more gingerly, then under the beds.
He mumbled after they scoured the place. “Well, I'm not seeing anything. Let's go.”
Her hum sounded agreeing, but still held suspicion. Hesitant to leave after being asked to. Midway out she looked to the collection of roots. Pausing to study them up and down then looking around down the rest of the tunnel. When Blake looked around with her, he caught on to what she was thinking. Except for this one patch, the tunnel was smoothly rootless. She stepped to the side to knock her cane between the roots. A thunking hollowed sound rumbled out from the knock.
“A door?” He mumbled. Grabbing a bunch of roots to yank free with her. Scraping off a layer of wet clay next to show a slab of wood underneath. “What's behind here?” Feeling around it for a handle of sorts to pull. When he couldn't find anything. “Can you knock it down?” Standing aside as she readied her cane. One bash shoved it free from its frame. Immediately they heard a sound that stilled both their hearts. A baby's cry that was quickly stifled. They looked to one another for reassurance that what they heard was real.
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aaaaaand thats the end of season 1. still working on season 2 so prob no updates for a while. :v/
Rated: M - Dead Dove Do Not Eat This takes place in the Outlast 2 universe after all.
Previous chap: CH: 11 Dysania
Next chap: CH: 13 Blight
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~Ch: 12 Wyrd~
Blake secluded himself the entire next day as well as the day after that. Turned into a nervous wreck who tensed at any shadows passing his door. When night came and he was alone he grabbed a rope from storage and headed alone to the burnt church. Stringing it up over the partly melted staircase. Yanking on it to test its climb ability before he did so. Pulling it up at the top so no one could follow him. He wanted to be alone and this was the only place nobody could reach him. He sat up on the roof top as he did ages ago. Gazing up at the stars as he laid back against the bell tower. Losing sight of them when the morning came followed by gray clouds filling the sky. Snowing down over him to cover the roof just as much. He wasn't as cold as he thought he'd be. His fever making sure of that, he laid down with a pile of snow collected onto his hot head. Him being back on the roof gathered a large crowd early morning. He could hear them calling, but refused to answer. He wanted nothing to do with anybody for a while.
Over the day the crowd dispersed, unable to do anything about the angel returning to his perch. He could still hear them all incredibly clear on the wind. Questioning why he was back up there. If he'd ever get back down. How'd they get him down. Moving onto concerns of what they'd do. Following closely to the routine of work. It gave Blake a chance to observe what they'd do without him. Almost everything was set to run under the managers. He mainly went out to keep stock and handle a few arguments on decisions, that's all. Exactly the way he wanted it, calm for the most part without the threat of societal collapse. There wouldn't be much of a reason to get down for a while unless an emergency popped up. Laying and sitting up as the snow came and went. Listening more for what people had to say.
Wonder if this is how God felt? He got annoyed at mankind and went higher above to ignore them. Watching the clouds pass he ignored the pains of hunger. Unsure if he could eat even if he wanted to. His sickness worsened throughout the day. Forever hot, a sore throat irritating him to constantly cough. A lingering exhaustion his rests couldn't shake free. People could hear him and talked about it. He heard John speaking with Marta on pulling him down.
But she refused. “He'll come down when he's ready. Like he did before.” Having the most confidence in that compared to others.
“You don't hear him hacking up there? He's sick and should go to Mathew for care.”
“Leave him be.”
Many wanted to get him down sooner rather than later. Every once in a while he'd see Val watching him from between two buildings. Scared off by Marta's passing presence of patrolling the town. Stopping some who planned to rebuild scaffolding to the roof. James made a visit late in the day trying to get Blake down by tempting him with dinner. Another bowl of soup, but having meat this time.
Blake gave no reply, still refusing to come down. Watching James leave in defeat with the food. This went on for another two days. Blake's fever having gone down. His sore throat only a tickle with an annoying cough still accompanying it. When it snowed in the night he sat inside the bell tower. Watching snow fall from the doorway. People saw him missing the next morning and were excited that he got down. Disappointed when Marta pointed out that he just moved into the bell tower. More attempts were made to try luring him down. Making offerings from food to handmade trinkets like necklaces. The offerings started making him nervous as they got bigger. Not wanting to be treated like some actual holy being he spoke for the first time in a long while. Commanding to stop with the gifts or else he'll stay up longer then he aimed to. Gift delivery was halted immediately when he spoke up about hating it. Coming around to getting down when the fifth day came. Mood ruined again by a problem he heard on the roof. Someone, by the name of “Farlow”, was trying to squeeze a higher position. Arguing the past few dinners that Blake shouldn't be in charge. Being so spineless to let the heretics make what demands they wanted. Acting like Blake was some animal gone alone to die on the roof.
Sleeping off the last of his lessening sickness. He woke by sunset to roll around his pill bottle to entertain himself. Listening to the pills rattle around inside mostly untouched. Back After the second day of illness, he knew it wasn't serious and the pills weren't needed. Using the bottle to also drown out the loud voices he could hear traveling a distance from the hall. He couldn't make out the words, but he knew it was Farlow arguing like before by the pitch. He thought of getting down, but couldn't find it to be a good enough reason. Stopping their roll when he heard John calling from inside right below his staircase.
“Blake, there's been a lot of arguing in the hall about you. A man named Farlow has been trying to convince everyone to follow him. He repeats that you're a coward who fled up there to die. Marta wont do anything unless you ask. People are getting restless the longer you stay up there. Please, will you come down?” He pleaded.
Blake didn't muster an answer. What could I say? “Hey, shut up.”? Who ever Farlow was, he didn't like me and I can't suppress his opinion. Maybe I am weak. If someone thinks they can do better then let them try.
“… It's also about Val.” John spoke nervously quiet.
What now? Does she want to lead too? Clearing his throat first before asking. “What is it?”
“She broke her leg. We don't know what to do.”
Shit, I don't know how to treat a broken leg. “Has Mathew given her anything for it?”
“No, we wanted to ask you first.”
“Okay. Give her some pain killers first. How bad's the break?”
“Feels clean, a small dent around the middle, but not free hanging. She can't walk on it though.”
He mumbled to himself. “Not so bad.” Speaking louder for John. “Is she willing to see the doctor?”
“Uh, no, I don't think she would be. She's only willing to see Mathew at most.”
“Does Mathew know how to treat a broken bone?”
“Um, no.”
“Know how to make a splint?”
“No.”
Dammit. “Okay, I'll come down and show him how to make a splint, but she really should see a doctor. I only know to keep it stable, not fix it.” Rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“Thank you, sir.” John breathed with relief.
“Yeah.” Blake cautiously made his way down the rope. Happy to touch the ground after fearing he'd fall he was so weak. Having not eaten for six days had taken its toll.
“Should we take care of you first?”
“No. Let's go see Mathew. Should teach him this before someone else breaks something.” Heading over to his house. They passed the grand hall with all the voices shouting from inside. John looked nervously between him and the building. “Should we go in?”
“No, it can wait till after Mathew.”
“But what if someone gets hurt?”
“Vals already hurt. Marta and the guard will handle it if it gets serious enough in there. That's what they're here for.” Not bothering to even look at the building he gestured a hand toward.
“I guess, but letting him go on about you...” His voice went quiet.
“People can not like me. Not everyone will and I can't force them too. If I don't let them yell it out then they'll say it in secret. Val did the same with Knoth, didn't she?”
“Yes.”
“If Farlow or whoever says I'm being too soft. Then maybe I am.”
“I don't think so. I rather call it giving mercy.”
“Thank you.”
When they reached Mathews office, John didn't bother to knock. Barging in right up to him sitting at his desk. “Mathew! Blake's here to help with Val's broken leg.” Talking fast to his boy.
“What?! When did that happ-”
“Recently.” He interrupted. “He's come down to show you how to make a splint.”
“But, I-”
“I know you don't know, but he can teach you to do it. So listen to him and maybe he can get to the hall quickly.”
Nodding his head still looking partly confused. “Oh, ah yes. Yes sir.” Facing Blake to receive instructions while his father ran out toward the hall.
Weird. He stared from John to Mathew. “Grab some sturdy branches and gauze.” Getting started. Through the lesson he could tell Mathew knew more than he did about splints. Collecting the proper sized branches without mentioning it. How to wrap and twine with suggestions coming as hidden questions for Blake to figure out. Getting the basics out Blake let go on instructing past that. “I think you got it. Let me know how Val is when you see her.”
“Yes sir. Do you need anything?”
“Nothing for me.” Handing the pill bottle over. “You can take these back, it was just a flu.” Aiming for the grand hall next. Peeking through the front door he saw everyone standing around listening or arguing back. Blake didn't want to shove through the crowd so he went around the back. While passing down the hall Marta heard him and came to greet him before he reached the main room.
“You're down.”
“Yeah, there were some issues. Came to deal with whatever's happening here.”
Her agitation for it all showed on a side eyed glance. “An idiot name Farlow runnin' his mouth.”
“Saying that he doesn't like me?”
“Yes.”
Passing by to enter the dining area. “Well, let's see what he has to say.” When he did enter, everyone went quiet. The one he guessed was Farlow stopped his loud ranting to face Blake. Of course it's the one with the half smile. He thought as he stared down at the man before the stage. His inner rage bubbling to the surface the longer he did. Still not knowing why he felt so. “You have something to say?”
“Plenty, we're all working hard down here while you laze up on a roof.”
“You all looked to be doing fine. Want me to hold a whip while you work? You're all adults who understand you have to work to bring food to the table.”
“We're not stupid. Of course we understand that, even a child would. I'm talking about handling those heretics left alone to stalk outside our town like a pack of wolves.”
“You want me to kill the Voltaire?”
“Isn't that obvious?”
“Don't like how I'm running things?”
“What aren't you understanding? You're too soft in discipline and faith, We'll never last with you. I'd have the problem solved without breaking our backs to care for heretics. We were taught to fear God's wrath, but now Temple Gates full of the scalled and their disease of the soul is here to ruin us. You struck us low then dug your claws in, as the Devil always does. Our flock should be handled by someone who's lived here in rightful faith. A righteous shepard, not some judgmental outsider trying to change our traditions that have kept us safe from outside sins!”
“Alright, if that's how you feel. You're in charge now. What are you going to do?” His decree turned heads. Curious at Marta looking nervous for the first time ever.
A grin stretched across Farlows face. Delivering out orders without a moment's hesitation.“The heretics won't be given any mercy. Right now, Marta will go out with her guard and hunt every single one of them. Their bodies will be brought back and strung up as a warning to anyone else. Val will be the only one spared of death, that's too good for him. He'll be a pristine example of what happens to followers of the Devil. Slash him, burn him, drag him through the mud, he'll never get a moment's rest again. God will see our shining faith through our actions toward those against him.”
“What about everyone here?”
“What about them? Marta will deal with anyone else trying to do evil if the message isn't clear enough.”
“And who would that be? Everyone here who did what I said? The people you don't like because they sneezed in your presence?”
“They have nothing to fear from me, only God's judgment. They now have the chance to fix their mistakes with me in charge. Knoth's teachings will be risen up to its former glory and your vile books will be forgotten. His true flock will rise to rule the earth and the rest will burn for eternity with you in the boiling lake of fire.”
“And when that's all said and done? What next?”
“We thrive and be fruitful as the lord wanted.”
“First of all, they have to eat. How will you get that done?”
“We take from the farms.”
“Take what? When? Do you know when you can plant?”
“Tsk, that's not hard to figure out. We have farmers for a reason.”
“Who works the farms? Do you know that? You only need to order one person and he handles the rest. Who is he?”
The smug smile dropped from Farlows face. Unable to answer any of Blake's questions.
“Name one lord aside from Marta. You should at least know one other. You work, don't you?”
“Of course I do.” He snapped. “But I don't have to answer who, do I? I'm in charge now.”
“Ha, no, you think I'd just hand it over? You don't give a fuck about these people. You haven't even paid attention to who the lords are.” Looking out to the crowd. Pointing out each lord he called. “James is in charge of farming. Liam builds, John hunts, his son Mathew is the lead doctor. Caring for the healed back home right now and there's Marta with the guard. Which one do you work for?” All eyes were waiting on Farlow to answer and they weren't happy. The one claiming they had to kill others for being leeches was looking like one himself. Blake glanced across the angry crowd. Focusing on Val he saw toward the back standing on her own just fine. Hmm. He noted in thought then continued his lesson. “If you want to be a leader you have to take care of everyone. Knoth's mistake was he only cared for himself as a king and left everyone else in the slums. Don't be shut off like him, learn all that you can. You should know how to do a little in every job to keep it running smoothly.” Turning back to Farlow. “To help you out, you should start under James to learn about farming. He'll need to clear the fields before eventually plowing them in spring. When he thinks you know enough, you can work next under John and so on. If you take it seriously, you'll work hard to get the experience you need. After you learn how they run things then you have a chance to take the reins. If you fuck it up, at least you can decide which job you like in the meantime.”
“Of course you'd lie! See what he does!” Attempting to get the crowd riled up in his favor. “Plays tricks, deceives, notice he still does nothing against those heretics! He wants to feed you all to those disgusting sinners! Don't listen to him! The lord will forgive you if you turn from the Devil!”
Blake rolled his eyes, facing back toward the assembly. “If anyone else wants to join him, you may. It's not a punishment, it's to learn as much skill as you can. If you don't like your current job, you have a chance to test out another. If someone works hard and stays diligent, they can replace me.” Dipping his head to them he turned to head for his room. “Have a nice night. John, tomorrow I need to speak with you.” A low rumble of whispers filled the room he left.
Marta stepping close behind asked mid way to his room. “You'll let someone else take over?”
Exhausted and suffering a headache, he gave a halfhearted answer. “If they do well enough, sure, I can retire.”
“What if they order me to kill?”
Her question stopped him at his door. He looked at her, seeing the worry on her face. “You can say no…” I don't think anyone's told her that, definitely not Knoth. You did as you were told, no questions asked. Blake had to fix his mistake on not saying so earlier. “If you're not comfortable doing something, you can always say no. Even to me...” Questioning now how little he considered her thoughts before. “Do you even like your job? You don't have to keep doing it if you don't. I can get someone else to take over if you want.”
“I do- now... Never liked the things Knoth demanded of me. Every time he sent me out I prayed for it to end. For you, I will happily assist in all you ask.” Flashing him a slight smile.
Encouraging Blake to give one of his own. “Thank you.” Curiosity developing a deep question. Wondering how this all started with her. How much damage Knoth did over the course of her life. “… What made you join?” Inviting her in.
She let out a huff of air then a hum. “Mm, lookin' for some faith?” shrugging her shoulders as she sat. “Didn't have any at home, parents put theirs in the bottle. They Didn't have any in each other with the daily fights. Being a tall kid they thought I'd better get a job, quit dealing with school. Was honestly considerin' just to get out of the house. I couldn't cross the main room without entering a fight with my drunkard pa. Through the years I got used to hearin' him step across the apartment. Avoiding all the times he was stompin' around for a drink. Passing down the hall, sneaking from the house for one to sneaking from their room to the fridge for another. Scent of alcohol stuck to him like it was his own skin. Noticin' steps I used at school too for all those trying to beat me. A dreadful feeling of readying to be attacked and then readying to lunge first before they did. Lot of fightin' got me kicked. I still hate hearing people's steps 'round here. Even more annoying when they sneak, but makes them all the more easier to hunt.”
Blake uncomfortably chuckled. “You found me because you hate my walk? I thought it was because I was being too loud.”
“Yours ain't so, being so soft footed. Most of the time you we're a chore to find without your mumblin'.”
“Mumbling?”
“You mumble constantly while thinking.”
“No I don't.”
“Constantly.” She affirmed.
“Well, so do you with all your verses. I heard you coming before I saw you and that's saying a lot.” Gesturing to her height.
“Sure is.” Tapping a finger by her eye in referring to his glasses.
“That's not fair, I can't compete with the eagle eyes you got.”
She puffed out an amused air through a smirk. “Spent my time looking out the window at things passin' by. Couldn't do anything else. No money and parents didn't want me talking to other kids about home. When school kicked me, it was what passed the day.”
“How'd you meet Knoth then? At a church?”
Her expression dropped. “Was 'bout fifteen, watching from my window, when I saw Knoth preaching of the lord one day on the street. He spoke a lot of comforting words that I'd never gotten before. Listened to him for a few days before I went out to meet him. Parents didn't care, being so close to home. I spilled to him my sorrows in return he fed me words of comfort. He gave me a lot of promises. That I'd be freed of my pain and sufferin' at home. That I would be saved if I followed his word. For he was a prophet of the lord tasked to save the chosen few.” Pausing to twist her hands around her cane. “Gave him whatever he asked to keep in good standing with the lord. To keep his promises true.” She sighed out frustrated verses. “I followed him everywhere. Soon after my sixteenth birthday he invited me to join his cause on a ranch. No-one came lookin' for me and nobody could tell I wasn't twenty, like he told me to say. Else I'd be “Taken back home” and I didn't want that. I tried to do everything for him. I studied his gospel so many times. Knoth said for us to go forth and be fruitful and I did as I was told.”
“You had kids? But you were so young.”
“Tried, It'd fail a couple terms in.”
“I-I'm sorry.”
“No need, thought it was some curse that'd grab a hold of my soul. Now I call it a blessin' in disguise.” Nose crinkling. “Knoth would have been the father of a few.”
“Ah.” Sharing her disgust.
“Years passed, then the raid happened and we were all displaced. He secluded himself up on a mountain before coming down missin' an eye. Preachin' about a blessed vision he saw of some far off holy land. But also a dreadful warning of the end's approach. By the time I was eighteen, I followed him out into that desert. Now here we are in Temple Gate.” Gesturing around them.
“Did you start enforcing then?”
“Not really, dealt with some minor fussin' a few generations into Temple Gate. Didn't take up the pick 'till a few months ago.”
“Why by then?”
“The coming end was always talked about, but nuthin' much was done. Speakin' the gospel, growin' the flock as fast as anyone could. Knoth started having more visions of the ends approach. One day he called me and Val to the compound tellin' us of a new vision that the Antichrist's arrival was on the horizon. Handed me the pick and told Val what had to be done with the children. Val set people in line before Knoth dubbed me to take over in that. He knew Val couldn't be the righteous blade he wanted. Things were dealt with differently after that. No absolution was to be given to betrayers of the prophet. A curfew was set with strict order. Fences and walls were built to separate the districts. No child by ten years of age was allowed to live. Mercy would be given when the end times passed and the Antichrist was slain from our flock. Gatherings were only to be done for mass headed by Knoth.
When I was first given the blade it felt like carrying a boulder. Got used to it soon enough when I was given routes to pace. Knoth praised my fury for steps. Said it helped “Catch sinners readying to do evil.”. He ordered me to kill anyone I crossed paths with. Sent out to fetch who he demanded for questioning. Sent out again to slay the names he pulled from their mouths. I followed so carefully to keep his promises true, that'd it'd be over soon. A little more blood here or there wouldn't matter in the end. For the lord commanded, so shall it be. He always made it seem like it was around the corner, despite the months passin'. Each gatherin' had less and less attending. Felt a pain in my heart to see and I couldn't help but bring it up. Knoth was sure to feed me some comforting words like always. Set me out to smite another round of wicked souls plotting against them. All while his words rung in my head.”
Blake remained silent even when she finished. Unsure of what to say, he wasn't much for encouraging words. Could he help after Knoth did so much damage to people's souls? Fixing a town was one thing as long as you could get the materials. Thinking over it all, he took in a breath. “Seems like you were looking for someone who cared, not necessarily faith. Knoth saw what you needed and knew exactly what to say to twist it to his needs. Without him, you have a chance to start over.” Pushing the thought forward. “You can do that. Being lord of the guard doesn't have to be your life.”
She joked. “You're not gonna force me to grab a friend, are ya?”
“Ah, consider it like a soul searching heal journey thing.” He so elegantly put it with a chuckle. “Find what you like that wasn't allowed the time for.”
“I'll get on that. Maybe after you do some healin' first. You need food?”
“Yeah, that'd be great.” He smiled, watching her leave briefly to fetch him a bowl of chili. Thanking her before returning to sit at his desk. The starvation hit him hard after the first spoonful. Forgetting the silverware to chug it straight from the bowl.
Next morning when he came out for breakfast everyone shouted his name with a hold up of their cups. Happy to have him fully back from the roof. He raised his hand to awkwardly smile at them all. Searching for a specific someone to check their leg. Again he saw nothing wrong with Val, either they weren't Val or John had lied like he thought. When he got his food he found his plate bigger than usual. “Uh, this looks like a lot.” He commented to the kitchen staff.
“It is. You look starved.”
“You don't have to do that.”
“We know, but you need it.”
A second cook added. “We'll only do it for a few meals. Enough to get you better.”
“Yeah, okay. As long as it's temporary.” His mouth watering at the huge plate. Juicy venison sausages on a pile of mashed potatoes mixed with caramelized onions. It didn't last a minute once it entered his room. Making him sick after shoving it down so quickly. Recovered, he went out to fetch John for a talk in his room. Tuning to him after closing the door. “So, when did Val break her leg?”
“Recently.”
“How recent?”
“Uh, hour before dinner.”
“How'd it happen?”
“I don't know. She never said.”
“How'd you find out about it? Talked with her?”
“Yes.”
“You saw her in an hour? She must've been a lot closer to spare you the full six hour journey to the mines and back.”
“Uh, she was. She- thought it was important. Closer for care and-” Shifting a shoulder on each stumble of his words.
“Her legs fine, isn't it?” His annoyance peeked.
“... Yes.”
“So you lied, again.”
“I- I, it wasn't-” He stumbled. “Wasn't my idea.”
“It was Val's?”
“Yes. She didn't like how long you were staying up there.”
“Mm, well I was coming down anyway. Was getting tired of hearing Farlow yelling across the way… How's Val otherwise?”
“She's doing better.”
“What's she been doing?”
“She's been acting like her old self.” Looking down at his hands. “Felt like she came back after Knoth's death.” Rubbing them together slightly when he looked back up. “Around his end I traveled to tell her the big news. I wanted to at least do that before distancing myself. When you came down from the roof and did all those things up to that lake ceremony. I had to go tell her about them. I went in the night and when I found her in the mines, she was different. She was confused on how they ended up the way they were. Starving, dying, inside of a dark depressing cave reeking of death. She had pulled herself together the days before to help the wounded from the collapsed mine shafts. Caring for the sick with only a few fit members left to help forage. After I told her, she came to see what was happening. She watched then left. I didn't have time to ask her anything when you were heading for outside and then the mudslide. Asked her the next time I could though. She wasn't sure what to think, mostly fearing Temple Gate would finish them off.” Gesturing a hand around. “She kept her focus on just getting people to survive. She had a lot of guilt for not taking better care of them. With your help she's had time to breathe.”
“How's the rest of the clan? Is the medicine helping?”
“Greatly. Some can manage a small walk around the caves now.”
“Good. If she needs help with anything else she can ask. That's all I needed, thanks John. You can go now and tell Mathew he doesn't need to update me on Val's leg.”
He gave a sheepish grin as he left. “I will, thank you and sorry.”
Blake chuckled before he headed out with his little black book. Relying on the lords to give all the numbers he missed recording. Enjoying how much James was thrilled to have Farlow work the fields. Furthermore Blake was excited to see others taking up the offer of testing other jobs. At least gaining some experience in mixed skills.
“Hey, uh, you've been outside before. During Knoth's time, right?”
“Yeah, used to live there.” James confirmed.
“Why'd you join Knoth?” It was a fascinating question that he wanted to know. Drawn up from a peek into Marta's and Val's history.
“Ah, didn't have anything else. I was young and dumb running with a gang. A home robbery went wrong and I ended up killing someone. Not proud about it and wish I could change it. Went on the run from the law all over the united states for a few years. Was homeless and thinkin' of skipping to Mexico until I saw Knoth preaching on the streets one day. Wasn't much of a church man, my family sure weren't either. Decided to give “God” a chance at helping me. Knoth told everyone exactly what we wanted to hear. If we followed him we'd have a home, love, money, lives where we weren't rejected. We ate it up and followed him to a ranch eventually. Thankful to be where we were in the growing community he gathered around him. It felt like one big family living together. Eating meals at the table, raising kids, helping each other through chores. Being a shoulder to those sufferin' a tragedy. Then the raid came and most of us were caught. Our desperation to cling to what's left made us hungry all the more for his gospel. He came off that mountain with no eye and a depressing vision. Fear struck into our hearts that everything would be taken away when the end came. A single hope we could save it all, long as we followed him.”
“When'd you stop eating his gospel then?”
“Things began to crack after finding Temple Gate. We weren't the first ones here, the natives were. Knoth claimed that they were demons sent to stop us from claiming our holy land. We couldn't let a single one get away. For some, killing was far too easy. Cant say my hands were clean that day. I didn't want to turn back toward the desert. Alone to face the world that hated me, rightfully so. But back then I didn't believe I had done anything wrong. Far too young and dumb I followed another bad path offering my heart's desires. This time instead of some white trash with gold chains it was a fat man with a bible. We cleared the land and moved in immediately to forget everything.
For the most part it became a community again. Eating together, raising kids, farming, you get it. Knoth enforced his gospel even harder to grow the community up from its remaining handfuls. Marriages became almost a daily matter. Some weren't so happy, but nobody argued. It was what the lord wanted and we didn't dare risk our flock falling a second time. Our struggles were thought to be over. Kids were all over the place. We had hearty meals to fill our bellies. Only the odd occurrence that ruined the peace. We covered those cracks with a bit of chewing gum and it was never brought up again. Then around when he decided to cull the- ” Lowing his head for a moment.
“The kids?”
“Yeah.” Clearing his throat. “That was the death spiral. Our wives were taken by Knoth. Sons and daughters paired with their parents when their spouses died. We ignored it, made all sorts of excuses. “They were happy to serve the prophet.” “Have to keep the lord's army growing.” “We're still a community of faith that'll see through these dark times.” A bunch of bullshit. The good times made it easy to wear the horse-blinders. Breaking bread with family and neighbors. The dances around a warm fire with glasses of wine. Staying meant staying happy and free. Knoth made sure to repeat those sayin's every Sunday. Those good times died with those kids... I tried holdin' onto the faith, but I had to face the truth. Things weren't as blessed as Knoth was sayin'. We all started suffering nightmares when we weren't awake to suffer in the day. Some of us wanted to leave, but we've been here for so long with still nothing for us on the outside. No family, money, or even old paperwork to get a footing for help. We gave Knoth everything when we joined. Can't imagine what it's like for the younger members. They don't exist to the outside. No social security numbers or even birth certificates.”
“You think if we introduced them to the outside slowly, they'd be okay?”
“What, to live out there?” His brows furrowed.
“No, I want them to not be scared of it. They can go out, get familiar, and be fine to get what they need. Without needing me to lead a group every time.”
“Ah, maybe? Teach them carefully what to expect and take small groups at a time. I suggest you don't start till spring when the harsh weather lets up.”
Scribbling a note of it in his book. “Thanks, I'll make a plan.” Moving on to gather numbers from Mathew.
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Rated: M - Dead Dove Do Not Eat This takes place in the Outlast 2 universe after all.
Previous chap: CH: 10 Sleight
Next chap: CH: 12 Wyrd
__________________
~Ch: 11 Dysania~
John was let go from the jail. He didn't return a report that day. That night Blake received more warnings from his dreams. He was running in a blind panic through the dark dirty mines. Roots snagging on him as a danger he didn't see, but could feel, approached. When he made it to a room lit up by torches he had found Lynn. Covered in clay with nothing much but some light clothes ware. Heavily pregnant, but also no longer with her whole front split in half from her hips to her collar bone. Organs spilling from the opening to collect in a bloody pile at her feet. “Look what they did to me!” She screamed at him. Blood mixed tears falling off her face. “You planned this!”
He pleaded. “No! No I-”
“You helped cover Jessica's! You wanted me dead next! You kill everyone you're close to!”
“No! I never wanted-”
“Angel of Death! Who are you after next? Is that why you keep Val free? Have her do your dirty work?”
“I want to help! I can-”
“Save everyone? You can't save them! They're all monsters who should rot with Knoth! There's nothing good in them! You saw it all and swept it away like with Jessica's murder! You told them it would be okay! Is it though?! You want to save a town of rapist baby killers?! You deserve to burn with them you disgusting piece of shit! A spineless coward! How did I ever love you?!”
He felt a pain not only in his chest, but from his arms. His head shot down to find many skinned hands clawing into him. Loutermilch's voice taunting him. “You can't hide your sins, Blake.” His arms yanked Blake back into a suffocating darkness.
Shutting his eyes tightly before he broke free from the painful grip. Eyes opening to him sitting up in bed, wheezing through a tight chest. God, maybe I can get that doctor to give me an inhaler. He got up to face the day with a trickle of energy. Book in hand to record what they had in stock. Meeting up with James for updates.
“No more food was stolen.”
“I know, everything should be settled now.”
“You caught the thieves? What'd you do with them? In jail now?”
“No, I said I would make arrangements to make them a messenger between me and Val.”
“You really went with that? I'm tellin' you they'll stab us all in the back. We're gonna wake up one day and find everything gone or on fire.” He grumbled. “Well, what did you tell them?”
“If they follow the rules, I'd help them through given rations.”
“A waste on those who do anything but help.”
“They do, a few are working already.” Puffing up the numbers, last thing Blake wanted was for James to start harassing people. If it sounded like a group was mixed in he'd be more cautious on going after someone.
“Who?”
“Names are between me and Marta.”
“I should know if they're working for me.”
“It's not necessary. Are they working? If yes, then there's no issue. If no, then get them working or tell Marta if they're a problem.”
“Tsk, I don't need to tell Marta. I'll handle the damn heretics myself.”
“You'll treat them like everyone else. I better not hear you starting witch hunts!”
Glaring down at Blake. “Or you'll what?”
Returning the glare he threatened. “I'll let Marta decide what.”
His confident glare shattered. Looking anywhere but toward Blake as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah... Okay… Long as they work and don't cause trouble. Guess it ain't so bad, then.”
“Good.” He ended the conversation. Leaving the farm lands back toward Mathew.
Separating dosages out from multiple pill bottles on a long counter and into small envelopes. Readying to pass out medicine for those needing it at the required time. He was becoming a doctor in training of sorts inside a small house turned hospital. Picking up first aid knowledge from Blake, who was always taught these things as common. “Hey.” Mathew smiled in greeting across the counter top.
“Hey, how's the supply holding up?”
“Doing fine. We won't run out of painkillers and most the other stuff until next month. Antibiotics we still have bottles left over in the back that aren't being used.”
“I'll do a count to be sure… Your dad tell you of our recent talk?”
“... Yes… He's trying.”
“What did you both take?”
“Food and medication that one day. We avoided taking anything until there was no choice.”
“Mm.” Could be lying. I should have interrogated him earlier before John talked to him. But if anything else was taken, I'll find out. Tapping his pen against the book. “What do you think of Val? Why'd you join her?”
“Used to see her all the time when she lived in Temple Gate. Val wasn't always like she was back around Knoth's death. She used to be gentle, caring and supportive like a mother was. She was a better listening shoulder then Knoth was. Some of my best friends were her kids. After she left I only saw her in brief meetings. Never talked directly with her after that, that was all my dad. After Knoth gave the commanded with the kids a few months back, me and dad lost our faith. I was one of the lucky few to slip by. Due to a few years age difference, if I was younger I would've been one of those with slit throats. Be prepared like lambs for the slaughter. I passed the school rooms of the younger kids before that day. Lessons were all about celebrating their deaths… That they could all be some hell spawn coming to kill everyone. Friends, family, didn't matter. They didn't know if they were some enemy against God. Told that-” His eyes watered. “... That everything will be fine. I watched my younger friends- by their parents own hands. Some took quick care of their many kids in one go. Val didn't have that mercy. She saved all those kids then- we all watched how she had to go on the longest. Rounds since the early morning carrying into the night. Knoth didn't allow anyone to help her, it was “Her duty to carry out.” Only gracing her with a break at mid day. Which didn't help at all.
… I can't imagine how unbearable the next rounds were. Knoth smiled the whole time she had to line up her kids for the pyre to be cut. Comforting them to stop crying before she stabbed them to death. Whole time Knoth sang songs of how God would carry us through it all. Val distanced herself from Knoth after that, then Temple Gate altogether.
Speakin' of the nightmares we suffered. She held secret gatherings on the cliff side by the lake to talk freely about that stuff. She fled with many others after a while. Me and dad stayed because we were afraid to run. We joined her cause after things were getting too bad in Temple Gate. Knoth's paranoia shot through the roof. Ordered Marta to kill all the heretics on nightly rounds. Lynch mobs got you in the day. Neighbors we knew, who openly refused to join Val, were killed for no reason. Because Knoth's paranoia of who else would run to join her got worse. Over time others wanted to escape, but no one knew how. Knowing how Val used to be, dad snuck out to meet her in the old meeting spot by the lake. We became coyotes - smugglers for people to reach the mines. Things were… Okay. For a short time.
Me and dad thought we'd eventually join the safe haven Val was making. After we saved as many as we could. Then it felt like too much with Val after a while, but we didn't know what else to do. Val-... We don't know what happened. Dad guesses she had a slow fall off after killing her kids. A lot of us were having nightmares about that night. Some seeing other sins they committed. She talked in secret of all the nightmares she had, repeating that night. As if that day wasn't enough for her to suffer through once. She lost her gentle compassion and it was replaced by a obsession for sin. As well as other things I won't say. Death had surrounded us on all sides. We stopped our smuggling for Val, afraid she'd go down the path of Knoth soon enough.”
“What about those in the basement?”
Mathew loosely shrugged a shoulder. “There was no plan for them. We just saw the chance to get them out of cages and we did. Where they fled from there was their choice. I'm Sure they all went to Val though, along with a p-” Cutting himself off. “Some others.”
“Mm, … That night someone died in the hall. What do you know? You didn't just run home.”
Mathew tensed, looking away without saying anything. Eyes flicked back and forth before he took a deep breath. “When I was running back home. I saw someone running toward the hall.”
“Did you recognize them?”
“It was too dark. I couldn't see any details about them.”
“Why didn't you say this earlier?”
“Afraid of what would happen if I did. I just wanted to get out of there. Didn't want to get involved.”
“I can understand that.” Recalling his own past. “Thank you Mathew.” Dipping his head before going to count meds. Recording everything was where it should be, he moved on. Weird to think Val was different less then a year ago. Was she really that caring or just more so than a lot of people here? Someone who threatened to leave a cut was preferable against a torture rack. Maybe John could tell me more of what was before. If he comes back at all. The second day passed by without John coming forward. Blake thought of giving him more time, but he couldn't wait for Val. The longer she refused to follow rules the stronger the possibility she could plot something. Leaving the barn he saw no alarming changes in the food taken for the day's meals. Stepping back through town to follow his daily routine. Closing his notebook to protect the pages from the falling snow. It had gotten so much worse these past few days. Wondering if he'd be able to make it to town in all this white. If he couldn't manage that, things would be a lot more serious. A chunk of dirt road was cleared of trees, but that only got them part of the way. The journey would still take a day or two on foot. He stopped under the covered porch of the burned church to open up the book again. Marking down his options to go over on what seemed best to pull off. Writing paused when his sunlight disappeared before Marta's shadow. She stood by his side waiting to be acknowledged before speaking.
“Yes?”
“I'm suspicious of one of the healed.”
“Are they tagged?”
“Can't tell. They all wore hand wrappings of some kind, even before the trap. Looked around the barn for anything and noticed one actin' strange by the fields. Managed them into a vice in the middle of their work. Couldn't slip away while James locked them down on tasks. They avoid me when I approach. If I do surprise them in getting close, they freeze up.”
“Weeeell, can't imagine why...” Looking Marta up and down. “You're very approachable. What do they look like?”
“All covered in black, same as your skittish shadow.” She let out an amused snort. “The others stand aside, but they don't freeze like them.”
“Mathew said he saw someone running toward the hall while he was running away. Maybe they’re the same?”
“I did manage to catch them walking when I kept my distance. It's been a long time, but I still recognize their steps.” What she said next turned his blood cold. “ If I saw their eyes I could be more certain. Val was one of the few with bright blue.”
“You think she's hiding with the healed?!”
“Bet on my soul. I haven't seen her outside the walls. Not since before our hunts started to be ruined. Same time when the healed were integrated. Have you?”
“Which one is she?”
“Ain't much to distinguish her from the others in black. I only know them by their steps. A set pace to make time without disturbing the peace. Hard for you to pick up, but-” turning to head inside the church she tipped her cane back. “That one leanin' on the rain barrel.” Gesturing behind her before stepping further inside.
Blake took a long sweeping glance to not seem too noticeable. Spotting the one Marta mentioned, ages away to the point he had to squint, leaning against a water barrel wrapped heavily in baggy black cloth to hide their form. Keeping their head down with face concealed by more wrappings if not by the large overhung hood. Even their hands were covered by gloves. Most the healed just wrapped them for easy bandage replacement. Blake pretended to write a few things down before heading inside to speak further. “What's she been doing?”
“Mainly keeping to schedule as every other healed since John was caught few days ago. Working 'til dinner then sitting in the hall, but not eating a thing. After that, head back toward the homes of the healed. Disappearing from there to I don't know where. Can't get close enough without scaring 'em off.”
“That's it?” He assumed she'd be doing a lot more. “Has she still been following me?”
“She'll take a look at you, but nothin' more. I'd say it's just 'cause I'm keeping close.”
“Dammit.”
“Want me to keep following?”
“Yeah, make sure they don't do anything, but Don't get too close. I don't want to ruin John's chance of talking if she's too nervous. Either he convinces her to make a deal or we'll handle them some other way.” Ready to dismiss her when he added. “And keep them away from me if they get too close.”
“Stay aware. I'll keep up the rounds.” Leaving him to continue his work.
When the sun set he picked up his dinner. On the way to his room he took a moment to look over the hall. Now that he was looking, it was noticeable that one wasn't eating. Not even having a cup to possibly drink from. Marta was sitting in the far back corner, eating her own dinner while watching the room like a hawk. Moving on he carried his bowl of vegetable mixed rice soup to his room. When this is over maybe we can pick up hunting again. Setting his food down on the table. Grabbing full buckets under his roof leaks to toss out the hallway window. Placing them back for the next time his roof dripped. Tell Liam about the leak. He reminded himself for the thousandth time. Transferring numbers between books as he finished his soup.
His sleep going as peaceful as the last. Running blindly through the caves with heretics at his heels. Thoughts racing on why he was here. Was it to talk things out? Was it to fix something? How could he stop them? If he tried talking would they only kill him? He had to talk to Val. She's the only one they might listen to. But he had no idea where she was or if she'd listen. Where's John? Wait- His eyes opened in bed after his mind caught up with him. “Dammit.” He mumbled with a rub of his eyes. Hearing the loud dripping of his roof he checked the bucket. Filled to the brim he got up to toss it out. When he chucked the water into the falling snow he noticed one in black making their way back to the healed area. He hoped they were heading back from talking with John. His time for confirming an answer was almost up. Blake rubbed his tired face in turning back to his room. Falling back into bed with a shove of the bucket back under the leak. Most hoped to dream of their loved ones face, but not him.
Lynn impaled on a collection of thorny branches coughing up blood. When he tried to desperately help her off she laughed at him. “You did this, what are you doing?” She laughed. “Some leader, why don't you tell them to do it?”
Who? He looked back to see a gathering of clay covered heretics. What? Facing Lynn when he saw himself covered in clay without any clothes.
“Look at you. You're just like them! How could you join them! After all they did to me! Don't you understand! They killed me and you're rewarding them for it!”
“I wanted to help.”
“You helped with Jessica and now with me.” Her voice drilled into his head. “Your sins won't stay hidden forever.” Pointing down to one of his arms.
Branches painfully pierced through his skin as they slithered from the inside out. He ripped them out in reaction to the choking vines. The sounds of his bones cracking to the vines woke him up wheezing. He sat up to look at his shaking hands. Covered in sweat he winced at the Light pooling under the door telling him it was morning. He felt unusually hot like the start of a fever. While it was still early morning, before anyone would be up, he decided to go cool in the river. Towels in hand he walked to the branch off of the river. It was safe there as it didn't meet the mine runoff yet. When it came to bathing he used the small shower in the great hall. Annoyed at it, because half the time it would stop and go on giving water. Deciding to just use the river when he was up for it. Setting his things aside he walked right into the water without undressing. Using it as a lazy way to wash his clothes. He looked down at the water, his reflection standing out with the sky Grayed by clouds. Various scars covering him that he could see directly on his arms. Smooth skin turned rugged by old burns. A similar patch marked the lower left of his face. The skin untouched by fire growing a 5 o'clock shadow he'd need to shave eventually. Eyes following the trail of the rest of his scars. Remembering where some came from like the dips in his hands. While others he wasn't sure, Remembering all the stupid things like running into shin high cacti. His attention drifted off to parts of Temple Gate in the distance. Adding more to his mental map of the place. He remembered a few areas, despite being chased through them. Others almost, but after fixing so much it didn't look the same. Was it bad, what he was doing? I can't leave now. I gave them all hope, I fixed their lives, what would I be if I just walked out now?
Lynn's voice drilled into him on who he was for staying. -A pathetic man who sides with killers because it's easier than going home to an empty apartment.-
They're not all monsters. They were doing what they thought was best. They've changed.
-Keep siding with them and see where it gets you. You’re too comfortable around the same ones who wanted you dead.-
He dunked his head under the water to drown out his thoughts. Listening instead to the water flowing by. Soaking in the cool stream when he saw Marta's blurry figure above the water. He sat up on the shallow shore to hear what she had.
“John wants to speak with you.”
He nodded and rose out of the water. “Coming, Need to get dry.” Sloshing water off him as he dried enough to put his shoes back on.
“That skittish was talking with John.”
“Mm.” his head dipped down. “ Where'd they meet?”
“They met outside the center of the healed blocks. Off in the forest away from everyone. Didn't hear what they were sayin'. Could tell both weren't happy though.”
“Great… Do you remember what Val was like? Before the children- em.” Cutting it there with a clear of his throat. “Was she always so- aggressive?”
Marta looked off to the side. “No.” Letting out a rough hum when she looked back. “More of, off.” Walking with him down the dirt path.
“Off how?”
“She always brushed off what was expected of her. Unruly toward her father, who trained her to take a deacon position. Calming down after he passed. When she got older and did gain the position, she was looser than her father and grandfather. Taking work Knoth snubbed, but she'd sweet talk him into it. Carein' for kids was one of 'em. Knoth stated It was “Women's work” and Val had “More important things to do.” Being a deacon. did fit her though. Soft on matters, but stern when correction was needed. Somethin' she picked up from her mother, who was a teacher. She made sure the kids studied hard and got to where they needed to be for mass. Knoth had her sacrifice a lot to keep carein' for those kids. No matter, Val made sure the kids knew he had to be respected. As well as keepin' up with handed down orders.”
“She ever hurt anyone?”
“Before, no. She'd never even done corporal punishment, like what Knoth leaned to. There was a slow shift when she was given orders to prepare the kids. Back talkin' Knoth far more than she used to. She wasn't so patient when he gave her deacon orders. Preferring to spend time with the kids as time dwindled. Knoth calmed her down after a few arguments before the day. That didn't happen after the kids were gone. She dropped her duty's to question what was going on. She tried talking to me about it by the lake, but I refused to listen to her questioning of Knoth's actions. I noticed she was missin' a necklace that showed our symbol after that. Her talks turned to Raging at anyone, including me about it all. Turning aloof she wandered around at night, defying Knoth's curfew. He tried being patient with his chief deacon. Thinkin' it was getting better when her nightly walks calmed her rage. Listening better to his calming words rather than giving hollowed looks. Until he got word she was makin' some concerning offers to people. Keeping details secret, but hinted heavily of sexual want. Instead of dragging her in, he convinced her to talk with him. The last conversation they ever had.
Things started out calm. I was present on the side in case Val couldn't be wrangled in. Knoth gave her a bunch of words that this would all pass. That he knew it was hard for her as well as everyone else missin’ their children. She needed some prayers and would be set back on the proper path after some spiritual healing.
It looked to be working until Knoth got to speaking of God's forgiveness. How he would bless us all in the end. I saw a look in her eye that I knew well from my youth. It was the one time I was ahead of her. She lunged at him, almost sliced his throat if I hadn't blocked her. I'd wielded that weapon long enough to handle it, but struggled to shove her back. If you ever looked hard at that pick when I had it, it used to curve slightly down. She struck it hard enough to dent it almost straight by its middle. Sparks flew off our blades when I did shove her back. All of us stood by trying to understand what happened. She looked the most taken aback.”
“That you blocked her?”
“More like by her own actions. When Knoth spoke her name she fled from the building. He continued yelling her name and she continued ignorin' him. I wasn't used to the chase yet and stood still by Knoth's side. He didn't send me right away neither, Knoth was confident she'd return when demanded to. Knoth sent her a letter to give herself up and that he'd be merciful when she did. When she didn't, I was sent to fetch her with a lynching mob in the night. She was long gone with only a letter announcing her departure left behind. Nothing felt the same after that. Buildings she used to run went from warm and inviting to being left quiet and cold. From then on Temple Gate was shedding members to join her side. What heart Temple Gate had left after the children was ripped out. Nobody trusted one another, everyone was a possible enemy. I was angry at them all. Why risk they're souls, why betray the one who gave them everything? Did they hate God? Did God hate them for what they've done?” Breathing out, tired by the memory's. “More so at Val for starting it all. If only she didn't, then this or that wouldn't have happened. But it would've all the same without her being the main cause. A festering rot eating at us that no one knows where it started anymore.” Going quiet as they reached the hall.
Blake asked Marta to bring John while he changed. Drying off quick as he could in his room to redress. Coming out around the time John stepped in.
Appearing exhausted after possibly arguing with Val since being let go. “Twenty-seven.” Handing in his answer.
“How'd she take it?”
“Not happy, but I've been telling her we should've done this a while ago.”
“That why you didn't run after being dyed?”
He nodded. “She tried convincing me to run, but I took the gamble on it working out. Things were getting worse and if this didn't happen… It wouldn't have gone any better. Took a lot of convincing, but I'm sure she sees it the same now.” Tapping the table before continuing. “She doesn't want to risk anybody coming to pick up the rations. Can they be dropped off at a certain spot?” Voice just as tired hinting defeat already before Blake could answer.
“Depends where.”
“Past the lake to about the eastern mining mountain river.”
“That's a bit far.”
“Yes, it's the halfway point. You could transport it all fast across water and stop before the rapids. Its not close to you, but also not too close to us.”
“Alright, I can do that, but I need to check if we have a boat. Might need one built. I'll aim to get a week's rations out soon if not by the end of the day.”
“I know there are a couple tied to the small fishing shed. Good for what we need it for.”
“I'll go see after this. Is there anything you recommend that they need?” Opening up the door for John to add things on.
He tapped the table before fidgeting with his hands on if he should say. “More medicine. It helped some recover the last time, but others are still bedridden with a nasty cough. High fevers and heavy wheezing.”
“How cold is it up there?”
“If it's not snowing we get regular frost. The insides are no warmer unless we get some bonfires going.”
“Could be pneumonia. Do you have anything up there?”
“No, when Knoth stopped bothering with management due to the end of the world's approach. So did they. Scavenging enough to hold off until the next day. Never expected to still be here at all. When Knoth died and the sun still rose they figured out quick that they needed to pick up the pieces.”
“Alright.” Jotting down some notes. “Maybe I can make some care packages on top. Blankets, meds, matches, bandages. Would a cooking pot help?”
“Greatly, they've been using rock slabs or sticks for cooking.”
“Okay.” scribbling it down. “Anything else?”
“No, sir.”
“Good. Since everything's settled and there won't be anymore theft, you can pick up hunting again. Long as you don't go favoring Val in where the meat goes.”
“No sir, promise.”
“Tonight I'll announce the agreement.”
“Uh, should we do that?”
“People are gonna ask why I'm sending a bunch of stuff across the lake.”
“Yeah, but- people are gonna be pissed.”
“I know, let me handle them. I won't mention you, I'll keep it to “hidden connections”.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem. Maybe you should stay in tomorrow. Get some rest.”
“I will. Looks like you should to.” Gesturing to Blake, still burning from his fever.
Sweat building already at his collar. Noticing now how dry his mouth was. “Yeah, I might.” Already wanting to go sit back in the river. Trading their goodbyes, Blake went out to gather up the supplies. Testing one of the boats John mentioned earlier. Assisting James with the gathering of rations. Dreading for when he'd have to make the announcement. All he wanted to do was sleep after running around all day. Taking a cold shower to dull the fever, refusing to cool. Picking up a box of meds from Mathew. Fearing maybe he caught something more serious than a possible flu he kept one bottle. Careful to gather up everything else for the boat delivery. A pile of blankets from storage and some cooking pots. Setting them away with the loaded food ready to be sent. Looking at the horizon with the setting sun he turned to James with a group of healed. “Take it to the mouth of the river. Place it on the shore closest to the mountain.”
“You want us to go now? What about the announcement?”
“I'm going to make it after you leave. The Voltaire get what they need and you won't be here for the riot about to happen.”
He laughed. “Pfft, you best keep Marta close.” Pushing away from shore to get the boat moving. “They may be wantin' a hanging over this.” Rowing away with the others.
“Ugh.” He sighed. Taking deep breaths the whole way to the hall. Passing by the whole town eating inside to the front of the stage. Seeing Val among them sitting at the back. Knocking on the podium's top to gather everyone's attention. “Alright, ...” Not sure exactly how to announce this. “After some discussion I have made a diplomat between us and the Voltaire. They will be passing messages between me and Val to handle any conflicts that arise.” Murmuring whispers bubbled up from the crowd. Quieting down when he spoke again. “I gave the Voltaire an ultimatum three days ago. Either they start following the rules we go by, or else. If they agreed, I would help by giving rations and other supplies.”
Receiving the expected simultaneous. “What?!” From the crowd. Followed by many outraged voices. “You can't do that!” “They already stole our food and now we're giving them more?!” “They haven't worked for it!”
He shouted over the crowd. “They agreed and I've already sent the first week of supplies!” But they only got louder. Standing up to crowd at the stage edge.
Silenced by Marta. “QUIET.” She ordered as she walked to the front. Standing by the stage as a physical reminder for everyone to behave. The smarter ones stepped back to their seats.
“Thank you… They agreed and I sent the supplies. Everything was carefully considered. I counted out how well we can hold without those supplies and we'll be fine well into next year. This deal only stays as long as they follow the rules.”
The shouting picked up again. A particular man caught all of Blake's attention. “And what if they don't?! What if they steal more anyway?!” His words were no different from everybody else's. Something about him however, unsettled Blake by his looks. Reddish brown hair turned partly white by a burn across his scalp. Half his face carved by massive gashes. One giving him a false permanent half smile. He'd seen many scars before, having him question why this was so different. “What if they kill one of us?!” Blake had to face away from him when his stomach threatened to come up.
Marta snapped the crowd quiet. “Ay.”
“Then they won't be getting anything and I'll send out the guard to hunt them down.”
“We should have killed them!” The riled up crowd chanted. “Kill 'em!” “Kill them!” “Kill them!”
“No, I will not be doing that!”
“Why not?!” Some at the front started questioning. “What are you gonna do to them then?”
That half scarred member spoke again. “Throw them in jail where they'll leach our supplies anyway? Heretics deserve to be crucified for their sins. Leave 'em for the vultures to feast!”
Blake was stuck staring at them. A clawing sensation gouging at his brain to remember them. His ill feeling knotted into a furious fire. Marta gave him a look, asking if she should step in. He gestured a rejection with a wave of his hand. Answering the question. “If it comes down to it. They'll be jailed.”
“This is stupid!” “Why should we help them?! They never helped us!” “Let them starve!”
“Because they deserve as much help as everyone else here. The decisions been made, there's no changing it now.”
“Why?! They killed so many of us across that mountain!” The front standees refused to back down. “Tortured us, chased us down and ruined every waking moment of our lives!” “How many of us were mangled?!” “This isn't fair!”
Blake couldn't contain himself any longer. His blood pulsing in his skull alongside a dreaded rage he felt so strongly only once before. “Look at me!” Pointing to his scarred body.” Don't you dare question me on what's fair! you did all those things to me and more! Did you all forget you hunted me all over this town?! Stabbing, beating me down, never giving me a moment's rest. You would've killed me if you caught me. All those kids, what about them?! Do you deserve forgiveness more than the ones who left after killing theirs? All those after who were tortured on racks, starved and murdered. How many of you stopped to think what's fair? Or what about how you all tortured my wife after a plane crash!” Tears threatened to leave his eyes. “When I finally got her back after suffering you all. You killed her! Ripped apart and celebrated over her dead body! You know what would have been fair? If the end did come and wiped this town to ashes! All of you dying a slow death to fall into a deep boiling hell. Why should I help any of you?! What did I deserve to have you all hate me?! What did Lynn do?! We wanted help! We wanted to go home! Now she never will! Because of you! I should have left you all to rot! It's what you all deserve!” His hardened stare broke to look away as the tears fell. The crowd shut down, heads hung low without knowing what to do.
Marta motioned toward the crowd, shuffling them back to the tables. “Go sit.” Given less as an order to suppress their opinions, but more so to give Blake much needed space.
When they backed away Blake could feel himself crashing. Sick to his stomach on shaky legs while tears threatened to fall. His racing heart needed him to run away from the problem. “I have to go.” He spoke quick before heading to his room. Collapsing soon as the door shut behind him. Curled into a sobbing mess against the door his hands wouldn't stop shaking. Crying past them. “I'm sorry Lynn.” Repeated into the night. “I’m so sorry.”
Rated: M - Dead Dove Do Not Eat This takes place in the Outlast 2 universe after all.
Previous chap: CH: 9 Uhtceare
Next chap: CH: 11 Dysania
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~Ch: 10 Sleight~
Blake rushed with James to the barn. Record book in hand to chart down the damage done to their supplies. “How much was taken?” He wheezed along the way.
“Five rations worth.”
“That's it?” Compared to what he feared, the whole barn emptied, five wasn't bad. “That's not much.”
James gave a snappy tone in mistaking Blake's for lacking concern. “No, but it will be if it keeps happening.”
“Oh, no, I know it will be. But why not more? Only five rations worth? Why not make off with at least a quarter of the barn?”
“Couldn't carry that much? Afraid they'd get caught takin' too long? Who knows with heretics.”
“They're not heretics, they're just people trying to survive.”
“Thieves then. Who need to be dealt with. Stealing food is a hangin' offense.” Opening the doors for Blake to inspect inside. Pointing out the various things missing. “Jerky, pickled vegetables-”
“A few bags of fresh stuff.” Blake marked down. “You sure the kitchen staff didn't take it?”
“Positive, all's accounted for there. Nothin' extra in the kitchen.”
“Help me gather the rest of the lords. We're having an emergency meeting.” Things were going by so fast it took him a moment to gather himself in the middle of the meeting. Arguing had shot off on what to do about the heretics. Turning to topics Blake wasn't approving. “We're not killing them!” He shouted.
“We have to!” Liam shouted back.
Supported by James. “We should've dealt with 'em a long time ago. They think they can take whatever they want. This is just them testin' the boundaries I bet. If we don't act, they'll walk all over us. Stealin' more, if not everythin', next time.”
“And what after that? Right now it's food, but after they get stronger? What if they go after people like before? Picking us off who step past what rusted fences we have left?”
“Should have left those up.”
“NO!” Blake slammed a fist. “They stole food because they want to live like the rest of us. They could've taken a whole lot more than five rations. Could've taken half the barn in the night, but they didn't. They used restraint in how much they took. They're not heretics. They're survivors that escaped Knoth's iron fist and had no direction to go. Or any sort of outside help that could've led them to safety. I'm not going to be the one who executes them after fighting so hard for survival.” He looked at the others at the table. John looked like he wanted to say something, but shrunk from the table over all the yelling. Mathew looked about the same in the crumbling discussion.
Liam huffed. “Still, something has to be done. If you don't then the rest of us will.”
Marta crushing anymore thought of that. “Step out of line and see what happens.”
“Marta.” Blake warned in name. She gave him a glance then looked away, mumbling verses again. He didn't want her shutting things down, even if they weren't in his favor. That would only breed fear and hatred toward him and keep people silent instead of expressing their problems. “Me and Marta will discuss what to do. I won't kill them, but I won't let them keep stealing from us. The rest of you can leave until I think of something.” Waiting until the hall was cleared.
“Should we kill them now?”
“... No…” If I don't make Val a target, then maybe I won't make myself one
“Should we capture them?”
“No…”
“You wish to leave them?”
“If I could-” Locking up at the thought of taming Val, being caught and taken to the jail. Surely her followers would attempt to break her out. The overhanging fear of if she'd escape in the night. He'd be the grand trophy soon as she got out. Waking to the screams of people her and her followers slaughtered. He'd desperately run to hide in some far off corner. They'd search every crevice until they found him. The sounds of her steps approaching. Her voice coaxing him to come out. When he'd come face to face with her again forcing him down. Covered in muck and blood like down in the mines.
“Blake?” Marta's voice pulled him out of it. “You look ill.”
“Ugh, stress is all.” Swallowing his stomach. “I- ...” God, what do I do? I can't tame Val like she's some feral animal. Do I have to chain her up like one? Need to stop thinking of her like that. She can talk, she's a human being, she's not dumb. Feeling sick he hung his head low. I can't talk to her. She won't dare talk with Marta. Is there- ! His head shot up. “I need a diplomat.”
“Why not speak to her yourself? We know where they are. I can crack her if she takes a chance at you.”
“If I get her under control with a diplomat then as long as she follows the rules.” A nervous laugh escaped him. “Everything will be fine.”
The look he got from Marta showed her doubts. Her tone one that Blake hadn't heard in a long time. “She's a lustful demon who brings misery.” Oozing a viscous hatred toward the one she spoke of. “When her thirst for blood returns. She'll use you to fill her cup first.”
“... Do you want to… ?” In every other case she didn't have the spirit without Knoth's reassuring preaching. When it came to Val however...
“... I was always behind her, even under Knoth and she knew it well.” Her hatred filled gaze locked onto the table. “My faith was imperfect after all. When she fled I was given the task to crush her. To prove how unfaltering my faith was… All I could hear was her unending mockery outside Temple Gate, for months. Always behind... I knew one day I'd get my hands on her and she wouldn't receive an ounce of mercy. No matter how she begged or what pleas to God she'd scream. She knows it, and dares not tempt me whilst in reach.” Her eyes rose back to him. “… If I asked you, would you order me to kill Val?”
“No... Do you think I'm wrong to spare Val? Am I too soft?” Doubting himself on handling the situation.
“No. You have not led me astray yet, angel. You have kept your promise, even if I'm not joyful about it this time, for that I will always trust your lead.”
He smiled. “Thank you.”
“Who will be your diplomat?”
“I don't know… Has to be whoever's inside at least. They've lived within Temple Gate, but Val must trust them a lot.”
“How shall we catch them then? They've been slippin' through our grip for days now anytime one of us nears.”
“We need to draw them out a bit. First is solving the theft problem, which will help with the other. Lock it up tight for a few days then leave it unlocked with a trap set.”
“That seems too obvious.”
“Yes, but we'll starve them into it. if they're that hard for food they'll chance it even if they know full well what it is.”
“What if Val calls in a large group to raid the whole barn? She could send in someone from the outside instead of risking those closer.”
“A huge group like that managing it through the main of Temple Gate? And out again carrying huge loads of food. I don't think she could pull that off with the roaming guard. You can see the storage barn clear from your place already.”
“Are we going to ambush them?”
“No, this will be a lot more subtle. I know banks on the outside have explosive dye packs that stain the skin. Robbers accidentally dye themselves from the trap which leads police right to them. We look for anyone who didn't show for work. Or those suddenly wearing gloves. Check their hands and we'll know immediately. I could set something up like a dye without the bursting part.”
“Out of what?”
“Pen ink for one, a lot of it. I'll need to mix it with something to keep it from drying away. Then I only need a way to spread it on the thief in the act.”
“How long 'till we set this?”
“Three days if I figure it out before then. Just long enough to force their hand before starving. In the meantime keep watching that skittish. Maybe we'll find out more as they get desperate.”
“Let's say you do get 'em marked. What if they run? We'll be outta food and your diplomat.”
“You'll be watching. I know you can catch them. Don't hurt them though.”
Having the foundation for a plan, Blake called back James and Liam. Setting out an order to gather up every lockable cabinet or chest. All food would be locked away in each aside from another lock on the barn doors. James was to watch everyone going into the barn and make sure nothing was taken without permission. Blake promised them both he had more planned, but couldn't say. And that the locks were a small measure for now to set things up. When that was said and done he went to the privacy of his room to experiment with ink and various liquids. Mixing some drops into dish soap, cooking oil, and whatever else he found in the grand hall cabinets. His experiments not delivering a satisfactory mixture that would last. He had patches of dots covering his skin that were coming off far too easily. Half were gone from all the scrub tests he was doing.
What's so annoying to remove from skin? Remembering the time he ate a pomegranate that stained his hands red for a couple days. He went out to raid the kitchen for any fruit. Finding jars of jam to be his only option he grabbed one made of black berry's. His next experimental mixture proved itself to be quite the winner. It would keep the ink alive while providing its own dreadful stain age. The annoying stickiness would provide a small bonus of annoying the thieves causing problems. He stored away his supplies for the future, wrapped in a rugged cloth that would complete the trap. It would be what delivered the dye onto the unsuspecting thieves. Dropping the cloth down might miss or not stain enough. It has to be grabbed for some reason. Wrap up a bunch of supplies they have to unravel? Trunk would be best for that, but what if they just pick it up? Double checking any failures that could occur. The barn's new security measures had prevented anymore theft. Keeping to schedule on setting the trap on the next day. No one knew exactly what the trap was. The most James knew was that they'd “accidentally” leave the barn unlocked at the end of day. In his room Blake was mixing up his sticky dye into the ragged cloth. Wearing gloves the entire time he sloshed the bucket around. The cloth itself was permanently dyed by this point.
Next day he went out, holding his record book in one hand and covered dye bucket in the other. With Marta going one way and him heading for the barn to finalize the trap. Meeting up with James as if following the usual record taking schedule.
“What are we doing?” James asked as he followed Blake into the barn.
He pulled out one locked chest to open. “We're going to take out the jars in this chest, fill it with rocks, put jars back and layer them up into this cloth wet with dye. Set it back and keep it open, everything else stays locked. When whoever comes in to steal they'll pick what's easiest to get to. They can't lift it with the added rocks so they'll have to rummage for the jars. Try to unwrap them and get dye all over their hands. With how sticky it is they might make it worse by trying to wipe it off on their clothes. They'll be covered in dye by the time they leave and anyone else who touches the jars.” He explained while helped by James emptying the chest. Large slabs of stone set as evenly as possible at the bottom. Slipping back on the gloves Blake went to cautiously fold the fabric in. James layering jars between the winding over and under folds. Anybody wanting to grab jars had to slip away the cloth or risk yanking out jars that would break.
“You know, we're basically giving this food to them.” James grunted as they moved the chest. It took extreme effort to shove it back into place. Even Marta would struggle to drag it out. A few carrying it into the rugged forest would be impossible.
“I know, at this point it's allowed. I don't want to starve them to death. Hopefully after this we can set up rationing for them too.” Grabbing the jars was what the trap hinged on to tag any thieves. A loss Blake took as natural to help feed those starving.
“You want to feed them? Why, they haven't done any work to earn it?!”
“I want to make a line of communication with them. If we can work something out then we won't have to fear them any more and they get the help they need.”
“We could just get rid of 'em. Solves our problems and they don't get to eat for free.”
“No. I'm going to help them as much as I helped everyone else.”
“You better hope they don't stab you in the back.” James warned on their way to dinner. Barn door left cracked open to bait who came by.
Blake skipped out on eating. Unable to sleep that night under all the anxiety for tomorrow morning. Carving little figures again of wolves and bears to calm his nerves. When the morning light pooled under his door he left his room to meet the lords. Noticing right away that one was missing. “Where's John?”
Mathew was quick to answer. “He's sick, s-said he might be around later.”
“… Anything important he wanted to tell me?”
“No.” Unblinking without daring a glance away from Blake's stare.
Marta jumped on before Blake could reply. “You seen anyone strange around the hunting party? Skulking around that could be spyin' for Val?”
“N-no, I don't really stay with my dad m-much after workin' the hospital.” Ignoring the fact that Marta was aggressively glaring him down. “Should I be looking? I ain't very good at spotting people. I don't think i-id know.” Shaking under the pressure.
“I think someone accidentally left the doors unlocked.”
“Well, we better double check and record what's gone. Anything important from the rest of you?” Receiving many head shakes. “Alright, dismissed. James, we'll meet you at the barn. Marta, and I need to discuss some things.” Waiting until they were alone to discuss the current unveiling. Marta's aggression unfolding in wanting to grab others she thought were traitors. “Johns a filthy traitor. Saw him fleein' the barn last night. Didn't bother to chase the snake after he headed right home. Think he expects to get the dye off before we notice. Should I interrogate Mathew?”
“See anyone else?” rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“Your second shadow. I chased them, but lost ‘em down one of the alley ways.”
“Great, we'll both go talk to John, but only after we investigate the barn.”
“We should grab him now.”
“He won't want to risk his kid. Keep an eye on Mathew, but wait 'till I say.”
She mumbled a chain of frustrated verses. “As the angel asks, but that boy knows more than he lets on.”
“How do you know?”
“You can read anyone like a book if you watch 'em close enough. Even with your poor sight.”
“Hooow?”
“Each persons different. John's shoulders tense up too much when caught in a lie. Deeper you dig the more uncomfortable he gets. Starts shifting them like he slept on 'em wrong. Mathew gets too bold a stare tryin' to spare himself of guilt. Stumbling over his words like a drunk, with piled up words to buy him time to spin a story.”
“Mm, I'll take note of that.”
“He knows somethin' about that kill in the hall.”
“Do you think he did it?”
“No, not sure where his hand in it was. He did more than run right home, I'm sure of that.”
“Hm.” Save his interrogation for later. “After we interrogate John, I want you to look for anyone else who could be tagged. Then we'll look into Mathew.” Walking them out to the barn where they saw the crime scene inside. Chest shuffled from its last position, but not far. Fabric tossed aside to dye the floor. Chest covered in dark hand prints from being handled so much. All the jars filling it were long gone. “Someones definitely tagged. Me and Marta are going to visit a few we think are involved. For today, pay attention to anyone missing, look for anyone with dye on their hands or those trying to suddenly stay covered.” He told James, on the way out with Marta leading the way to johns. Blake approached the front door to knock.
John answered, partly hiding behind the door. “Sir?”
“Heard you were sick. You okay?”
His voice jitterly assured. “Oh, I'm fine.” Rubbing a shoulder with a gloved hand. “Nothing serious, must be a cold.”
“Why are you wearing gloves?”
“Oh, uh, blisters. From work” Shifting his shoulders. “The cold air doesn't help them feel any better.”
“Oh, I can help those. Let me see.”
“No need. It's not that serious. I think I'll go back to bed now. This cold-”
Marta shoved her way inside. “Sit down.” She ordered with a point to his small dining table. Scaring John into following orders. She loomed over him where he sat while Blake sat down across from him.
Blake ordered, “Let me see your hands.” Instead of asking this time.
John rubbed them together as he glanced around for some way out of this situation. Unable to run while under Marta's watch and unable to talk his way out. He slipped the gloves off to reveal skin covered by that dark reddish dye.
Blake sighed at the sight. “Stand up, we need to go talk.”
John went pale. “I know what I did was serious.” Pleading before anything else was said. “It was all me sir, please don't drag my boy into this. Don't lock him up, I swear-”
“John.” The furious look he shot him shut him up immediately. This whole time Blake had to deal with so much anxiety. That all washed away to a burning anger. “Do you realize how much shit I've been dealing with? You've been stealing food and I had to stop the hunts.” John sat in silence. Blake let out his anger in a frustrated breath. “This is serious. We need a long talk someplace private. Don't cause a scene on the way or you'll make things worse.” Getting him up to head out. Marta aggressively followed him the entire way. They stepped down into the jail where they entered a small side room. Marta stood by the door while Blake and John sat at a table.
Where to begin? Blake thought. “You need to answer honestly or else I can't help anyone here. Right now, you and your son could be jailed or banished out of Temple Gate if you refuse to cooperate.” Seeing John swallow at the threat. He took a deep breath to start the questioning. “Why were you stealing food?” He knew the answer, but this was to get confirmation from John as well as something easy to answer.
“Help feed everyone. It was easier with the foraging still high, but with everything dead 'till spring. Hunting was all that was left. They couldn't catch enough.”
“So you set up the hunting party to be robbed?”
“Yes, The meat never lasted. They were starving even before Knoth's death, over half were sick or too injured to help. Their situation never improved after. Had no supplies to farm, barely a shelter or anything to survive on like Temple Gate has.”
“What else have you given them?”
“Only medication on the day you handed it out.”
“Did you set me up when we first headed for town? You didn't want me bringing Marta along.”
“NO! No, no!” He adamantly denied. Shrinking in his chair as if Marta would bash his skull in any moment now. “We were scared of what Marta would do if she found us. They had no ways to defend themselves. If I was leading, You pass by without Marta and they don't get anymore danger over their heads. When the mudslide hit I convinced James and Jacob to split up. Either they found you or Val would after I asked her for help.”
“Then why was I almost killed?!”
“That wasn't supposed to happen. Val didn't want that, It was Ayzel who did it. He still has a bone to pick with Temple Gate. Val was furious when she caught him and worried Temple Gate would come after us for harming you. The plan from there was to take you to the caves and make sure you were okay. I would've been “caught” to give you support until then. After you were better enough we would have “escaped”. That never happened after you ran. At that point nothing mattered. We were past the caves, Marta was there and she wasn't going to leave after that.”
“So Val's not after me?”
“No, she's not after anyone. Her goal matches yours - keep everyone alive. She's been struggling to keep the clan on their feet.”
“A while ago we caught her and a random member of hers wandering some rotten area. The area south east, close to the cave. She was standing by until we let that one go. What was that about?”
“She'd mention a few times about worrying what Temple Gate was planning. Wanting to keep post at night to feel assured that no attack was coming. One talk we had I noticed she wasn't as paranoid as before. Sounds like what you did helped.”
“Great, is Mathew helping her too?”
“... Yes, but not nearly as much as me. If we were caught I didn't want him blamed. Please don't exile him for this. Please.”
“I won't if you help me with Val.”
John froze at what that could mean. “I- how?”
“I want to make you a diplomat. You'll pass messages between me and Val on how to handle issues between us. I can help them, but they're some conditions. She can't keep stealing food, that has to stop or else. If she agrees to that I'll give them rations, but I need to know the exact number of how many of you there are.” I'll also know officially how many of them there are against us.
“I-I don't know if I-”
“If you can't convince her to agree, then don't bother coming back.” His fierce gaze pierced John's soul. “Stealing food is serious and I won't allow you to stay here. Forcing me to worry about what you'll do next. Putting everyone at risk. Your son can stay, but he'll be demoted and watched more carefully. I'm going to let you go today. Starting now, you have three days to work it out with her or leave. Got that?”
Rated: M - Dead Dove Do Not Eat This takes place in the Outlast 2 universe after all.
Previous chap: CH: 8 Kings men
Next chap: CH: 10 Sleight
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~Ch: 9 Uhtceare~
The big day had finally come for those quarantined. Mathews mother and a few of the worst cases were tested by the doctor in town and cleared of their disease. As well as given various medications to help the long term effects. Mainly painkillers with a few helping damaged organs function. Temple Gate's medical team escorting everybody to the new block houses. A schedule made on who needed what meds with a list of visits for normal caring. Leading the tasks was Mathew who now ran the makeshift hospital near the area. Focusing solely on the task at hand he overlooked the transition.
The Healed covered still in various wraps to hide their scaring. Most shown of them were their hands or eyes. Blake hoped the covers would lessen over time after they became more comfortable in their skins. Seeing mainly wraps of white with a few colors spread out. Reaching the new houses he had them spread out to pick one. Around 2-3 people per house got everyone their own bedroom to call their own. Some went off to be fully welcomed in by their families still around. He gave them time to settle in with all the things they had, that not being much. Old photos beside small trinkets they hung on walls. By afternoon it was time to introduce the healed to the lords. Having various other physical conditions, jobs were carefully selected. Some had missing limbs, partly blind, lacking fingers, but were healthy otherwise. Assigned under each lord they were given less heavy tasks. A huge chunk were given to Mathew, who only had five helpers before without Blake. Jobs under James involved sorting good crops from the bad. Plucking seeds for the next harvest and packing the storage barn full. Pickling was picked up faster than before with the new hands. Further helped along was the processing of meat for jerky. Jars were sitting full on the shelves after being packed to the top.
The remaining few he put on kitchen duty. Usually when the hunting party or the farmers returned from the fields they'd start cooking for everyone, but would be exhausted by then. With the new team breakfast alongside dinner could be made on the stable food gathering. Meals made ready by the time everyone got off work.
The transition went about as expected. Liam as well as many others refused to eat at the hall anymore. Blake couldn't force them to attend meals there, so he allowed them to take rations for personal cooking at home. Some refused to work at all with them nearby. After a warning talk from Blake that if “You don't work, then you don't eat.” They settled down. If not from his words they did by Marta eyeing them down. Others were still nervous about disease and avoided them, but didn't start trouble. Some further talking along with the eldest followers shutting them down, quieted those still snapping. Blake refused to separate the healed away from Temple Gate. Doing so would breed ideas of them being lesser and deserving of neglect. He had to snuff out a few superstitious ideas that their “disease of the soul” would spread worse. Giving out constant reassurances that, that wasn't the case. They'd heal and as long as they followed his instructions they'd be fine. The current townies would have to get used to it and hopefully they wouldn't be so nervous about working with them over time.
Blake checked on other areas. The new jail was on its way to being finished. Its main structure more solid than what it once had. The added walls of solid cement added on to supporting the middle. The front had four doors to pass. Two were strong iron gates with locks that required keys. The other two were thick wooden doors that would need a key or a battering ram to get by. Plumbing set up for each cell to have a working toilet and a couple beds with only a solid block of concrete for their base. The whole place strongly lit up by lights down the main hall. Large enough to avoid anyone reaching out for a grab. After four cells there was another key required iron barred gate. Separating eight cells into zones of four each. If there was a break out they could contain sides a bit easier. Meeting up with Liam to see the overall town improvements. Houses rebuilt around the ashes of old homes. Others had their foundations reinforced. Rickety shacks turned into some sort of a house. Plumbing extended upon, alongside the power grid. Nothing the generator couldn't handle long as it had a supply of fuel. His worries of money returning to itch his brain. He'd been thinking about working on some sort of farmers market. Try to sell their goods as from some humble religious community. If they could afford to sell extra it would get some money flowing in.
But that would have to wait with the approach of Blake's next fear. Its first warning came early in the night to cover Temple Gate in a layer of white. Snow was beginning to fall as winter swept in over the mountains. Cold rain replaced by clattering hail that Blake hated more than the snow. Crops would be harvested before the bitter cold killed the plants. Enough to last them if they held close to rationing. He lost count of how many times he checked the barn for how much food they had. Headaches drilled into his skull from the sight of cans he recounted in the pantry. After a while of this he felt confident enough everything would be fine until spring. While all that was going on Blake didn't need to keep track of Val anymore. Her visits having stopped a couple days ago. Bored of watching, maybe she figured out what she wanted, or preoccupied by the harsh winter Blake wasn't sure.
One day he returned to the hall to take a break from the cold. Amused by the sight of Marta passing by in her outfit more worthy of the winter. A thicker cloak mostly intact from its rare use. Aside from the very bottom edge gone ragged from being dragged across the ground. A black fabric with a golden design wrapped around her neck to partly cover her mouth. Thicker leather bindings, stained mostly red, reaching from her elbows to her palms. From what he could see past the robes collar and ragged edge end. She only wore another deep blue dress underneath it all. Keeping it tightly down by a long length of prayer beads around her waist, same as before. He asked her about it once. Wondering if she didn't bother because nothing was in her size. She clarified that, that wasn't the reason. Preferring them over anything restrictive like pants. She felt the same way for shoes. Hating their weight and the loss of traction across the rugged earth. Using a furred leather binding instead to keep frostbite away. wrapped around almost up to her knees. He didn't think it was the best way to face the cold, but she must've done it this way for years. Long as she stayed okay he had no reason to push her into a new wardrobe.
He took a breath and hacked on the cold air stinging his throat. “Dammit.” Facing down to cover his mouth until he was done. Facing back up toward the window. Squinting his eyes at the blinding white land out the window. Snow used to be his favorite thing, reminded him of Christmas. He had to look away from the windows showing that untouched white. It reminded him too much now of Jessica's death. It had snowed that day, leaving the school's surroundings a clean white seeable under the night-lit lamps. It haunted him whether he was awake or dreaming. What could I have done? Remembering back to the last conversation him and that priest had right after.
Entering through the door Blake saw her dead body at the bottom of the stairs. Blake didn't believe she was dead, at first, giving Jess a kiss on the cheek and hugged her cold body close. Nearby, Father Loutermilch, their priest music teacher stood at the top of the stairs. Dressed in an all black suit, balding with a vibrant red birth mark above his right eye. A white collar around his neck paired by a dangling wooden cross, a false holiness he hid behind. “I don't know what you think you saw.” Were his first words.
Blake had to choke down his sobs. Questions raced through his head, but none were important in comparison to. “We have to help her!”
“It was an accident. She ran away and slipped on the stairs. We can't help her, but we need to help each other. You shouldn't have been here… Doing what you two were doing. You need to make this right.”
“But, we-” unable to defend himself before being cut off.
“You'll be in trouble too when the police look into this. They won't believe you that it was an accident. Someone has to take the blame for this. God sees your sins and so will they. We have to hide her.”
“But-”
“They'll say you were jealous!” His tone building in aggression. “Watching her flaunt around all the other boys! It's her fault! You were frightened! We have to make this right. Do you want your parents to find out?!”
“N-no.” he spoke through his tears falling uncontrollably onto Jess.
“Good, you know how troubled she was. It's her fault, trust me, we- ... We need it to look like she did it. Nobody can be blamed then… Pick her up.” He remembered moving Jessica's limp body. Loutermilch stringing her up above the stairs using a rope he grabbed. Following the monster into a nearby classroom he stood to the side. The priest repeatedly wrote note after note of Jess's fake suicide on the board. Yelling and erasing the messages repeatedly when his rage boiled over to punching the board in anger. Between his growing frustration and Jess's dead body eyeing him down from the small door window, Blake made an offer. To write that suicide message on the board for him.
“Oh, could you? I couldn't force you to do such a thing.”
“I-i can. I've seen her write.”
“How generous of you.” That monster's sickly sweet voice praised.
Blake knew it wasn't right, worsening with each letter he chalked. Mimicking Jess's lettering from the years he'd seen her write. Swallowing his stomach to breath out his nerves to steady his shaking hand. Giving the suicide note its calm steady message to be read tomorrow. He wanted to scratch it out, run away from the monster staring down at him. He couldn't make him angry after he saw what he saw. If he did what he was told he could leave without becoming a target.
All he wanted was to go home. Forget this night that haunted his dreams in nightmares. It was a mistake to think the one he helped would help him.
“My son, nothings wrong with us. It's how God made us and this was his plan all along. He wanted her to die.” Sickened by the priest patting his back “You're not evil, you're only confused.” A common reassurance when questioned if what they were doing was wrong. He was stalked by that man through the rest of his school years. Reminding Blake of their accident. That it was a secret they would both take to their graves. The priest was aggressively desperate to keep it that way. Calling him a sick pervert for giving Jessica that kiss on her dead body. That he saw how Blake stared at girls. Delving into claims of Blake doing sick things in private. Reminding Blake with that soft sung tune even in the bathrooms. “Be careful little eyes what you see.”.
Then another tragedy, his parents' deaths. His mother was killed in an accident on the highway. His father stopped living, body wasting away to sudden illness, and soon followed her. Blake was left feeling hollow and lost. His teachers noticed as his grades tanked, he stopped going to activities, this made him easy pray without knowing. It started small. A hand placed on his shoulder to a pat on the back. Mixed in by insults laced by overly sweet words. “You're disgusting for thinking of girls that way. God's horrified and sees them all. How revolting you are, but we're all the same. People won't admit that. As long as we confess, it's alright to fulfill these feelings. I'll guide you through them.”
He thought he deserved it after causing Jess's accident. Was this what God wanted? None of it felt right, the messages weren't lining up with what was being taught. Wasn't he confessing like he was told? Why wasn't he happy anymore? Did God hate him? Why was nothing getting better? Didn't he do the right thing? Wasn't it an accident?
Blake found his assurance was when he found the tapes. He was alone, working on the band stage in the auditorium for an upcoming musical assembly to sing for the visiting mayor. Chairs were placed, speakers set up alongside their equipment. One speaker wasn't operating correctly after being attached to the main controls. Repeated tests had him figuring out the cause. “Must be a loose wire. I'll have to follow the line under the stage.”
Nervous about the under-stage with how much wiring was underneath. That he'd break something or that it would shock him in all the entanglement. He reached the cords end without much trouble. While connecting it, his elbow bumped into a beam. A piece shifted forward that scared him into thinking he broke it. Inspecting closer, it was a small rectangle carved out of it and placed back to hide a hole. That's where he found them hidden alongside a recorder.
A vocal recording of the fathers dark thoughts hidden under the musical stage between the wiring. His obsession with Jessica, the sexual thoughts. “She was so ripe with possibility. So resilient, smiling and flirting. Never even aware of the power she had.” His mocking of getting away with it. “You saw what she was. You knew the sin rested on her shoulders as much as on my own. You took her, when I could not. You killed her, and I never told a soul. I've kept your secret, our secret. Thank you. Thank you, you never told a soul. You let the small sorrow of her suicide wash over the unacceptable tragedy of her murder.”
Blake had a breakdown that he managed to keep hidden for the most part. All his suspicions were confirmed by that priest's very own mouth. With his parents having died less than half a month ago. He was lost in the system until his uncle finally got custody of him. Loutermilch saw something shift in Blake and his little taunts increased into full blown threats. The hands set on his shoulders were clawing in to leave dark reminders. On Blake's heels whenever he had free time on campus. It was becoming too much and some deep instinct inside told him he was being hunted next. He didn't dare be trapped alone with that priest. His fear ever increasing as the father began asking a unsettling question. “You're falling behind, do you need to stay after school?” A wide set overly friendly grin on his face.
Seeing Blake look at him in fear only riled him up all the more. Turning bolder he was no longer sticking to just threats. Making disgusting gestures that Blake turned away from to ignore. One night it all came to a head just how much of a target he had become under The Fathers eye. He was called privately to his office after school one day. Greeted after opening the door, he was waved to come inside. “You've gotten so far behind in your classes. I'm very concerned for you, son.”
Blake stood in the doorway, silently refusing to enter. “I'm fine.” He swallowed heavily.
“You sure? Nothing you want to talk about?”
“...”
“Mm, well… I think you need some extra study time with me. We'll get you caught up. It'll be painless, I promise.” That wide smile grew across his face.
It made Blake want to vomit. He was sure his quick thinking saved him in that moment. “Sorry, been busy, I guess. My uncle wants me to help on the farm all the time. He's waiting outside to get us both to work.” He lied, neither of them ever worked on a farm. He knew classmates who did though, they always complained about this exact thing. Taking in a breath when the priest's smile dropped.
“Oh.” His tone oozed disappointment. Staring down at Blake then looking off to the side for a moment. Looking back to Blake through a cold gaze. “You still need to catch up on things.” Speaking with annoyance the next. “Maybe I'll… Have the principal talk with your uncle about that.”
Blake didn't understand it in the moment. Assuming that the priest was angry he got out of his grasp. “... Okay.” was all he could say. Stomach threatening to bring up his lunch while his heart pounded. Wanting to run, but not make himself look suspicious enough to be interrogated out of his only escape of a lie. Unknowingly staring at the man for far too long.
“What? You know It's impolite to stare.” That disgusting smile returned. “Want to give me a kiss?” Winking at the boy with a stick of his tongue at him.
Blake looked away, ready to cry. Heart stilling that he may have unintentionally given the priest a reason to do something.
“You may go.” He dismissed, unenthusiastic about it.
Blake held himself together enough to walk away. Then, when out of sight, he fled down the halls to escape. Shaking while tears built in his eyes he managed to stay running. Faltering at the sound of footsteps catching up behind him. He looked back and saw that bastard coming after him. Stumbling himself from what Blake ran into, the principle.
“Whoa there. What's wrong with you?”
Blake couldn't find the air to speak. Asthma along with pure terror shutting him down. Worsened by a particular hand gripping his left shoulder. He tried flinching away from it. Stopped by being clawed into to stay still.
“We just had a talk about him staying after school. I mentioned I would talk to you about it and he's upset.” The bastard excused.
“Ah.” The principle seemed to understand. “Well Blake, since the uh- tragedy with Jess… Then the case with your parents. We understand you’re upset and need some time, but you still have to keep up with your work. We don't want you to fail a grade and be held back from graduation.”
Blake had completely shut down from the conversation. Mind screaming at him to gnaw his own arm off to get away. Attention cutting forward to a dreaded question he heard from the bastard.
“Have you seen his uncle?”
“I have. We already talked about his grades and we scheduled a time to talk more. Said he was in a hurry to return to work.”
“Mm… Good.” Not happy at the information.
Blake managed in a breath from the saving misunderstanding. They talked earlier around lunch, but it sounded far more recent.
“Can I have Blake for tomorrow after school? I really think he needs attention sooner rather than later.”
“I'm sure his uncle wouldn't disagree.” Looking down at the young boy. “You'll be staying tomorrow with Father Loutermilch to catch up. I'll make sure your uncle knows. When you get home, do your homework. We don't want more piling on, do we?”
Blake shook his head. Running soon as the principal dismissed him to talk further with the creep, forced to let his prey get away. Thinking about it now, why he stuck to talks over emails. Those letters he saw of teachers discussing Jessica's problems at home. Loutermilch's suggestions of keeping her for study. A paper trail all too similar he didn't want to leave behind a second time.
He remembered the next morning clear as ever. Waffles left untouched on the breakfast table for him after coming down stairs. Morning sun shining through the windows while birds chirped cheerfully from the trees. His uncle angry over a call from the principal. Scolding Blake soon as he was spotted. “Your grades are so far behind they're about to put you in summer school. Today and every other day you're staying after with Father Loutermilch to catch up!”
Hearing that, the thought of what was going to happen, his world imploded into a void. He collapsed down into a sobbing shivering mess on the floor. Heart racing inside the clenched cage that was his ribs. “I can't! I can't! I can't!” choking on his sobs while tears stung his eyes. “I'll die there! I'll die like Jess! Don't make me go!” Begging not to go back to the point his uncle was stunned by his severe reaction.
All the anger he had a moment ago dissolved into worrying. “Hey, ... Buddy.” Comforting him the best he could with pats on the back and a hug. “You can stay home, okay?” rubbing his shoulder to help him stop crying. “Don't worry about going back either. We'll figure something else out for school. Why don't you head back upstairs for bed, okay?” Helping him up to walk him back to his room. He wouldn't have made it otherwise he was shaking so bad. Wiping the tears away until his sleeve was soaked. Breaking down at the breakfast table was the best that could have happened to him.
His uncle took him out of school for a while. He couldn't afford therapy sessions and so they weren't followed up on. Assuming it was depression after his friends suicide and the death of both parents happened so close. He made sure Blake got out of the house in some way. Cheering him up through fishing trips out of town. Bringing him to Lynn's house after school ended for her. Blake joined up with Lynn one summer to explore the workings of an on site news crew. Some part of a special career day between the school and the mayor wanting to look good before elections. It was the starting spark of him and Lynn's future career. Messing with the camera equipment he took a liking to while Lynn became the face for it.
After a while his uncle could only offer for him to join a new school. A fresh start away from all the bad memories. Blake happily agreed, a fresh start far away from that monster. I should have spoken up then. Would anybody have believed me? Lynn would, but everyone else adored Father Loutermilch so much. He had the school heads under his thumb. All those emails to hold Jessica back were proof of that. I was her best friend and I couldn't- Blake rubbed the building tears from his eyes. A coughing fit brushing the rest away under his stinging breath. Goddamn, hope I don't have pneumonia. That shitty roof leak is gonna be the death of me. It started as a drip in the corner of his room. Developing a dark spot on his roof then other spots developed the same problem. He had three buckets collecting the pouring water that he tossed out in the morning. If Liam's done with everything else I can have him check the roof. Back to his leaky room he grabbed the record journal. Scanning through the numbers to make sure he had everything correct. Returning to gather the new numbers from the barn.
Counting every jar of jerky, bag of seed, and everything pickled. Smiling at the jump in numbers showing how much the new hands were helping. Looks like we'll make it to summer with this. Maybe Liam should make a second storage barn. Meeting up with John to gain today's meat numbers. His tired face not boding well for the hunt. Fidgeting with his clothes to rub the back of his head before Blake could even ask what happened. “We caught a deer, but...” He started. “The Voltaire took it from us.”
“How? What happened exactly.”
“It was quick. We killed the deer and right as we were about to drag it back they surrounded us and demanded the deer. We didn't want to fight, so we let it go. They left with it and we got away.”
“Mm, that's best. We can always get more deer. You ran into them away from the eastern mountain?”
“Yes sir. They honestly didn't look too good. I think they needed the meat more than we did.”
“it's all they have up there now. Snows going to kill or cover everything else. Head more west and maybe we can avoid them spreading out.”
“Yes sir.”
Can't have that being a problem. Was that what Val was watching for? She couldn't get the schedules of the guards down, but she could for everyone else. Mixing up the hunting areas should give a fix for now. No need to change what everyone else's doing since they don't leave Temple Gate. Marking a crossed out zero beside meat in his records. Guess we're having a vegetarian dinner tonight. Working in his room to copy the records across his books. Pinning the incident to his roughly made calendar. Fearing if it meant anything while he picked up his dinner. Excited to see the healed eating with the other townspeople. The tables more packed than before without an empty spot in between. Some eating off to the side with only a chair to sit on. Might need more tables. He thought when handed A bowl of vegetable soup with a side of fresh bread. Taking it to Eat in his room next to the dripping leak plunking into an empty bucket. Need to talk to Liam about that. I'll do it tomorrow. Rubbing his tired face after dinner to collapse into bed. Forgetting all about that by his morning meeting with the lords. Checking on how the healed were adapting with Mathew. Writing down the medicine supply to make sure everything was passed out. How long until they needed a resupply. “Everyone doing okay?”
“Shuffled a couple jobs, but other than that it's been smooth. Everyone's been taking their meds on time.”
“What about with the rest of the town?”
“Some words under their breath or actin' skittish, nothin’ much.” Glancing at Liam whose opinion Blake already knew.
“Good, let me know if anything else comes up.” Looking to James about how the farms were doing. “Got the harvest in, when can we plant again?”
“Soon as the snow lets up and this cold passes. 'bout February if that all happens. March at the latest or else we'll be stuck waitin'.”
“Good.” Blake noted in his book. Turning to John next. “In case Val figured out your hunting trail I want you to mix up where you go. Today go westward, from there pick a different spot away from your usual.”
“Yes sir.”
“Why don't we just rid ourselves of Val?” Liam stated more then asked. “He's best left dead so no one else has to suffer by his hands.”
“She's as much a victim as everyone else here. She fled to try surviving without any support. You all hunted her and she hunted you the same. I call it an even fight, but now we're changing things. Either it evens out, or I'll deal with her then.”
“Drop that crap about him being a her. He was born a he and that's all he'll ever be.”
James scoffed. “Shut up, if that's your biggest problem around here then go complain to the graves. Least they can't hear your whinin' no more.”
Marta mumbling. “Hope so, for their sake.” Getting a chuckle out of James.
Liam crumpled low in his seat. “Ridiculous.” He huffed then muttered more complaints under his breath.
Moving things along. “Thanks James.” Blake gathered notes and numbers from the rest of the lords. Ending the meeting to proceed through the rest of their day. Blake returned to them at the end of the day to collect records. Heart sinking at seeing John return just as defeated as yesterday. “Did It happen again?”
“Yes.”
“Shit.” He mumbled. “Okay, uh-” Maybe Val's still watching and follows him right as he leaves Temple Gate. “Tomorrow I want you and the hunting group to leave a couple hours earlier. Don't shine any lights, I want you to sneak out basically. Maybe she won't see you leave if she's watching that closely.”
John swallowed. “I'll try sir, but what if we're found again?” Looking to Blake full of exhaustion mixed anxiety.
“... We'll figure it out.” Attempting to awkwardly cheer him up. “We could all turn into vegetarians until spring,” He smiled. Getting a small smile out of John before they separated. Blake marked another zero with a slash through it for the second time. While picking up dinner he noticed Marta standing in the corner watching over the room. He thought to ask her why. Was someone causing trouble? About to find out when she approached him.
“Have time to talk?”
“I do. Let's go to my room.” Taking his dinner with them.
When the door was shut and both were seated, Marta got to the point. “There is an old concern, if you remember. A traitor being within the town that helped prisoners escape. I'm sure they're still here helping Val gain what she needs. No doubt they've been spillin' what we're doing all hours of the day. Where you go, what I do and where John hunts.”
How could I forget that?… Because it wasn't important before. Now I have to fix this before it gets worse. “Yes, I remember now. Got any leads on who?”
“No, I came to ask if you suspected anybody. Now it's just what you want to do from here.”
“All I got is to scope around the hunting party for anyone watching. If anybody will notice a standout, it's you.”
She dipped her head. Standing to leave with a passing “Goodnight.” Out the door.
The next day came, Blake headed out with his journal in hand. Taking paranoid glances around him at anyone around. Could it be them? No. Them? No. Ugh, Marta will have better luck then me. Everyone appeared the same to him. Without any past knowledge of who was old, new or not supposed to be there at all. Passing a few walking around toward their job sites. Others relaxed under the shade of a tree or their porches. More watching others on their way around town. Nothing in particular was standing out to him. Arriving at the barn he took the food numbers. Outside he met with James, who wanted to go over with him about the crops set for planting in spring and where. Catching a gathering of all the farmers forming a large ring of a crowd. A mix of healed and longer set townies. Blake always liked seeing the two sides mixing. Scribbling down a mini map in his journal he listened to the breakdown for a couple hours. Attention drifting when things got too monotone he caught others doing the same. Fidgeting with sleeves, looking in various directions. Another looked away when he looked toward them. While others shuffled around to get more room between them all. Tuning back in he took notes for another hour until they were done. Tossing in his two cents on what to plant in large amounts. Equally wanting a large variety of foods to reach the table eventually. Writing down the finalized plantation set before moving on.
Heading along the dirt roads he gazed at the passing scenery. Aged buildings, the hall in the distance as well as the burnt church bell tower. Stumbling over his feet by a blur out of the corner of his eye. His mind first thought they were a stack of barrels. A glimpse of someone behind a building who swiftly disappeared when he looked toward them, far too slow to catch any identifying details. Blake stared their way for a while in thinking they'd reappear. When they didn't he hummed out a long breath continuing on. Brushed off as his paranoia acting up and that it was just someone going about their day.
He visited Mathew to go over his patients, then off to see Liam about reconstruction projects. On his way to dinner he caught another glance of black coat tails disappearing from his view. Doing as before to stop and wait for another appearance. Left annoyed when none came his jaw tensed. They were far too careful to not be seen. Are they following me? Blake urged himself to brush it off. Can't see much if they run away all the time. Maybe they're just too skittish to talk? But that didn't sit right in his mind. Walking slower than before with many glances over his shoulders. Either they were gone or far too good at hiding as he didn't see them again before reaching the hall. Picking up his dinner he looked over the full room. Many were dressed in a similar black between the old townies and the healed. Some grays had him think back on if it was black or a dark gray. Maybe navy? This isn't helping me. Searching for Marta on having anything to offer, but she was missing. Hope she found something.
The next day came and went, another zero with a slash. Blake was ready to tear his hair out. How close is Val watching this place? She must have her minions sitting out in shifts. Instructing John to sneak out another way from Temple Gate that had many hills to block the sight of them. Weary and stressed, John agreed to the idea. Passing it on to the rest of the hunting group to be done early the next morning. Blake himself was worried the plan was foiled before it was finished even being spoken. That dark figure lining the edge of his vision making repeated appearances. His note taking hadn't been as productive as usual. One time he tripped over his own shoelaces he was so distracted by the stalker. Every time he whipped his head around he only saw a disappearing black figure. Rubbing his face he blinked away the bleariness that never left after he woke. Focusing extra on the notes he did take to write them coherently. That figure leaning into his view he snapped to them, choking on his spit at the deeper details he caught. Dark fabric, blood and many arms that stabbed a pain into his chest. Blurring away to nothingness then appearing again in a sudden shift out of view.
Blake's chest tightened until he wheezed out every breath. What did I see? That wasn't real. Rubbing his eyes of the blur swarming his vision. He's not here. Acid welled up at the back of his throat. Is he? Tracking him all these years to finally have the chance to- NO, no! He's not here. swallowing his stomach back down he rushed off again. Heading out toward the fields between the graves he settled his breathing. Nothing to hide around out here. Scanning the town's edge for the figure known for slipping a moment faster then his gaze could capture. Eyes drifting down to the field around him. Tall grass shifting in waves under the flowing wind. The dirt underneath him softly mixed with sand closer to the river reflecting the lowering sun. Tempted to lay down and disappear in the field for a while. He sighed, tapping his book to his chest between looking back at the town. Dreading what was following him to what would happen when it caught up. As expected he caught flashes of the figure all throughout the rest of his day. The nerve wracked feeling of being hunted increased. Blake swore he heard the first few hums of that tune. Be careful little eyes- His head would whip around to confront what he swore was there. Sometimes he saw the stalker disappear, while most times there was nothing at all.
Between his heart skipping beats, wheezing returning and his jaw tensing hard enough to crack a tooth. The paralyzing fear was twisting down into his gut that felt like a burning furnace. A furious anger ready to explode on the one he caught doing this. Unable to flee he froze painfully tense in the middle of a cross section away from anyone else. Waiting aggressively patiently as a prowling animal ready to pounce. Listening to the wind while observing everything in front of him to pass the time. Quiet houses whose owners were out for work. The setting sun tinted everything in a deep red. It burned his eyes in the way he faced, but he didn't want to ruin what he set by flinching away. Time stretched on as his only guess to its passing was the sun falling lower. No longer burned from the red he whirled around without warning to face what was behind him. They weren't quick enough this time, sight of a lot of dark cloth disappeared around a corner. Blake shot after them, determined not to let them get away. Around the corner he ran right into a cloud of dust, their tracks stirred up. That turned into the only thing he kept up with.
Corner after corner he turned to chase another trail of dust. Inhaling it ruined what little chance he had. Hacking slowed him down to forcibly lean against a wall. “Dammit!” He hacked through multiple curses. Trotting further in a sad attempt of tracking he pushed himself again at the sound of steps nearby. Recognizing a little late who they belonged to right before seeing their face. She faced him, equally as annoyed as he was. Letting him catch his breath to speak first.
“You see someone in black? … Other than you?”
Marta let out a hum. “Did a few times. Tried catching them just now.”
“Well, that's a relief. I wasn't sure if they were real for a while.”
“They've been following you all day.”
“I know. Seen what they look like?”
“Nothin' but black robes. Haven't gotten the chance to get a closer look with 'em, bein' so flighty.”
“Great.” tapping his book to his head. “Instead of chasing lets- … Go to the hall, first.” Glancing around. Outside having eyes all around he couldn't take the chance. Heading there with Marta not far behind. In the privacy of his room he continued on his plan. “Let's just observe. They have to stop following me eventually and go somewhere to sleep.”
“What if they start getting too close?”
“Then step in, but it's too easy to see one of us coming and bolt. A mob hunting around would scare them off entirely. I don't want that, I want to catch them and figure what all this is about. Whether they're plotting something bigger than stealing to survive.”
“Mm, so I watch from afar for what?”
“Figure out who they are or at least where they go. Maybe there's more than one sneaking around.” Breaking down what he wanted her to look out for. Setting everything up for tomorrow with the hopes of better news to come.
Another day came and went, another zero with a slash. His second shadow made their appearance throughout the day. Blake couldn't think of any other option. Should cancel hunting for now. No meat, but I cant keep risking the hunting party crossing paths with the Voltaire. His next morning meeting with the lords had him announce the decision. “With the aggression of the Voltaire stalking the hunting party. I've decided to hold off on hunting entirely to keep the group safe.”
John was taken aback at the news. “You can't do that! What about feeding everyone? Are we really canceling all hunting in the most important season for it to be done?! We can't grow anything and we'll be eating through our reserve in a couple weeks.”
Liam agreed. “You're letting him walk all over us. When's enough going to be enough? Kill 'em already.”
John softened up on his stance. “We don't need to kill her, they're stealing because they're starving. Are we really going to kill people trying to survive?”
“Yes. We have to think of ourselves. Finish them off while they're down!”
“No, we won't.” Blake stated. “No ones gotten hurt, but we haven't caught anything in days and the Voltaire are clearly keeping too close a track on you. I rather not risk your lives while I can just buy more food if it gets bad enough. I've counted again and again and we have enough to last us well to next summer if we stick to the rations.”
“Let me go out again. If I catch smaller things instead of deer we would-”
“No.” Blake stopped him. “Hunting will be held back until the snow melts in spring. When foraging can be done, maybe the Voltaire will leave us alone.”
Marta bringing up a serious possibility. “What if they don't?”
“We'll have to deal with them more aggressively. We can't cancel hunting for forever.” Writing down a note of no hunting beside the future meat logs. Disappointed how things were going, but he wasn't willing to be aggressive yet. “John, you can work with who you want until hunting picks up again.” Dismissing the lords to continue on with their day. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't let Val walk all over me like that. Do I send John out with some guards? What if a fight breaks out and someone dies? Should I catch them and toss them in jail? At that point I'm still feeding them, but at least they'll be controlled.
Book in hand he followed his usual schedule of counting supplies. As expected the numbers slowed to a stop. No more harvest was left to gather. Seeds were all collected and set aside along with the prepped food. From here on the food numbers would naturally decrease. Noting in his book of the day this plateau hit to remember it for next year. Heh, I already see myself staying here for next winter. Laughing on the inside about all he was leaving behind so easily. Did it really matter so little to him? His apartment, his car, his possessions. Soon those would be gone after none of his bills were paid. Photos of me and Lynn. Should I go back for those? Our wedding album. Heart aching at the thought of seeing the pictures. Knowing he'd never have her back. Maybe that's why he didn't keep the photo of them with Jessica. He hated keeping depressing keepsakes, preferring to look forward in moving on. It's what helped him for the most part after leaving his old school.
That night dreams of Lynn's rotten corpse mocked him for wanting to forget. “You did want me dead. Why else would you abandon everything? You never cared. What did those wedding vows mean to you? Go home, stop wasting time here with these psychos. Stop helping them, let them die. Let the heretics run this place into a painful grave.” In those dreams he took what verbal beat down she came to deliver. Each morning he woke it was harder and harder to rise. His only relief was that nothing much was happening. Two days had passed since he called off the hunt and sent Marta spying. The Voltaire hadn't made a move in days since the hunting was halted. whoever the skittish one was, wasn't doing anything but disappearing. Marta still couldn't confirm who it was or even where they went. It made them both feel like a ghost was haunting Blake.
Blake woke recently to a sharp pain in his stomach. Flipping in bed to grab one of the nearby leak buckets. He gagged a few times, but his empty stomach couldn't bring anything up. He shook and slumped in bed under the covers. It was the morning of the third day and he didn't want to leave. Uncontrollably shaking he tensed at the sound of steps passing his door. Wanting to run away, but had nowhere to go. Last thing he wanted was to see people. Voices made him feel worse than the steps. Were they talking about him, or something else? Were they going to knock on his door? Idea of hiding under the bed offered some relief. Through careful deep breaths his racing heart slowed to a normal pace. His wheezed hyperventilating lifted enough to slow his shivering. At his desk he tapped the top while his leg jittered. Glancing between his notebook and the map. Little marks of Val's last appearances not helping, he ripped them off.
“God, what do I do?” He groaned, rubbing his face. Already regretting the stopping of hunting for meat. How many vegetarian dishes could he stand until spring. Meat was pretty important to keep everyone healthy after so badly being starved. Give the orders and rush everyone to the mines to have the Voltaire killed? Set out traps to catch them all. Keep them locked away in cages to be forgotten. I don't think anyone would oppose me. They'd be celebrating their capture and cheering for their deaths.
They deserve it... Don't they?
… But what have they done that Temple Gate hasn't?
Murder, cannibalism, torture, everything else. Only difference was if they did it for God or the Antichrist. Rubbing his head. “Ugh, what do I do? What to do?”
A knock at the door startled him out of his chair. Calming himself before answering he paced in a loop back around to his door. Expecting Marta with some important news.
Instead he was met by James holding a serious face. “Foods been stolen.”
