The Samhain Files

a novel by Vane Vander

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I wish it could be May forever. I wish for our happily ever after.
But I guess you never believed in happily ever afters.

-Juansen Dizon, "I Miss May"

PROLOGUE

TWENTY-FIVE YEARS PRIOR

It would be the greatest story of all time, Bes pondered to himself while walking down the last stretch of street, if a teenager from the forgotten part of the city worked his way up instead of taking free handouts like everybody else did. The city claimed to be rich, but he had never seen any of the money trickle down to his family.

"Hey, Bes!" his friend Dylan shouted when he passed through the front doors of the Soul Reassignment Center, jumping up and down beside the elevator door. "We're working in the main room today!"

"That's great!" He felt his smile widen as he clutched the empty glass test tube in his pocket. Dylan was always an energetic and enthusiastic friend, one of the few who had bothered to pay any attention to him in school. Even though it was out for the summer, his peers were more concerned with enjoying the interim between the feverish end of the year and the hell that would be eleventh grade. "Are you taking the center console, or am I?"

"You can take it. I always liked the tubes better, anyways."

Dylan shrugged as the doors opened. He gripped Bes' hand and dragged his friend into the elevator with him. Both of their stomachs jumped for the brief moment that the car was descending and resettled when the doors opened.

"Maybe they'll give us a pay raise, at least."

"Yeah…"

Bes' eyes drifted off as Dylan directed him to the sorting room, where hundreds upon hundreds of plastic tubes lined the ceiling. The processing part of the facility was kept underground since it was believed by those higher up in the chain of command that the souls, milky white and floating inside of the tubes, would relax more if surrounded by stone. They'd expected to be surrounded by a coffin, anyways.

"Bes, you okay?"

"Wha-"

Bes shook his head. Dylan led him to the front of the spacious center console. A wide keyboard extended in front of him, and lots of little dials with complicated statistics littered the screen. Ten thin spigots stuck out of the side of the console, awaiting Bes' command.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"Good luck! Hope you remember your training!" Dylan disappeared behind a wall with several thick tubes mounted to it.

Yeah, I sure hope that I do…

Bes glanced over the controls before slipping the test tube out of his pocket. Freshly cleaned at home before leaving, he'd palmed it from his chemistry class on the last day of school. He removed the rubber cork and held the tube tight under the closest spigot.

Dylan appeared suddenly from behind a rack on the other side of the room. His eyebrows were furrowed.

"Yo, Bes! What are you doing?"

For the Skribrulajxo…

Bes strained his head for a moment, remembering the ten-character password that the training a few weeks ago had taught him. With his free hand, he tapped out the code into the console, wincing when it dinged- a ding that could have shaken the whole room from how much Bes' fingers were shaking. They held tight against the spigot, however, as he requested the souls of the five people whose names he'd committed to memory.

They're always so faceless, so anonymous. If I didn't have the console detailing their lives and memories in need of cleaning, I'd have no idea who exactly I will soon hold in my hand.

"Bes?" Dylan squinted, still halfway behind the rack. "What are you doing?"

"Quality testing."

The spigot roared to life for a full five seconds, just enough for each of the souls to flow in before the spigot shut off. The center console shut down, and the screen glowed red, a red that soon spread to the lights glaring from above.

"Bes? What did you do?" Dylan stared up at the ceiling, his mouth gaping. "I can't afford to lose my job! I don't want to end up in the trashy side of town!"

Bes' spine tingled in one sweeping shiver as he called the tube and nestled it securely in his pocket. Later that night, he planned to imbue the substance with the tracker that he'd devised at home and sneak it into the Earthbound shipment.

A toothy grin crept up on his face as the sound of the guards stomping on their way downstairs approached.

If this works, Dylan, you won't have to go back there. You'll never have to ever again.

1

FRIDAY, DAY 1

Well, it looks like I’ve failed to follow my dad’s rules again. Sorry, beloved father, but I’m sure that keeping my friend out of the rain shower I thought was imminent was more important. I hope that you’ll understand.

“Okay, mom. Yes, I got the groceries. I'm bringing them home right now. Yes, I took Samhain home. Yes, I love you too. Bye.”

Argentina hung up and tossed her phone onto the seat next to her, which was still warm from the squirming body that had occupied it only five minutes prior. The girl who had sat to Argentina’s right had contained her focus to the window, but that didn't negate the crumpled up papers still resting on the floor of the van.

The street lights blinked to red as Argentina slowed the van to a stop in front of the printed crosswalk. There were no other vehicles on the Wychester roads as far as Argentina could see past her sunglasses, being that there were still quite a few hours before the dinner rush... not that that was a problem, anyways. Argentina deigned to avoid breaking any unseen rules further. Allowing Samhain anywhere near the vehicle was bad enough, or so exclaimed her father after one too many rough days at work.

“Samhain’s a spoiled mess,” he always huffed whenever Argentina ran an errand for her friend’s weary parents. “She’s taking advantage of your kindness and charity.” Her mother would walk into the room just then, claiming a coincidence- although the way her mouth twitched betrayed otherwise- and drew her husband away long enough to chastise him about breaking one of the Ten Commandments and setting a bad example for their daughter. Their family name honored a saint himself- they ought to start acting like it.

It hadn't been Samhain's fault that her parents had been late from yet another consultation with the underpaid doctor they saw once a week for their wriggling mess of a daughter.

It also wasn't Samhain's fault that she had been born with an autoimmune disorder and thus had the burden of knowing that she was the reason her parents barely got any sleep at night.

But rules were rules and were made to be disregarded.

“But that doesn’t matter that much anyways.”

Argentina reached over and tapped the radio button on the dashboard as the lights flickered to green. The car jerked back into motion as the squeals of an over-autotuned pop song flooded the speakers, and the girl winced as she turned the volume dial down. She knew that there were quality stations out there within her range, but she didn’t know of any off the top of her head, and fiddling with the dial could prove to be too much of a distraction for a vehicle in motion.

“I wonder if Lucia is home from her job yet. She promised me that she’d swing by and collect the makeup samples I gathered for her...”

2

FRIDAY, DAY 1

Samhain’s mother always kept a calendar hanging on the wall separating the dining room from the kitchen. Across the dates and overflowing into the margins were all sorts of scrawls in her mother’s rushed handwriting, noting everything from birthdays of forgotten family members to medical appointments. The latter were connected with swipes of silver permanent marker, spiderwebbing throughout the page and sometimes leaving tiny smudges on the wall around it whenever the strokes were a bit too vigorous.

“Samhain, dear?” Her mother leaned out from behind the divider wall. Spaghetti sauce had stained the front pocket of her apron loosely tied over her small frame. “Is your schoolwork going just fine? Do you need me to call a tutor?”

“Argentina would be nice.” The sixteen-year-old twirled a lock of short hair between the fingers of one hand. She kept her eyes downturned as she scribbled another answer with the other hand. A stray glint of light from the glass sliding door behind her glared on the corner of the tablet screen. “She’s far better at Spanish than I am. Heck, she could be a walking dictionary.”

With a fine taste in fashion, I might add.

“Didn’t you just see her half an hour ago?” The woman rolled her eyes as she disappeared back into the kitchen.

Samhain looked up when a nice wet blurp sounded in the kitchen- probably just the spaghetti sauce done, the teenager rationalized.

“Besides, Lucia has a baseball game tonight. There won’t be enough time for Argentina to get here and accomplish anything meaningful before dinnertime would arrive. We’d have to send her home.”

Samhain turned back to her homework. She bit her lip as a tiny wave of nausea made its acquaintance with her and then disappeared.

“We could just keep her for dinner. I could ask her if she wants to go to the game, but she’d probably say no.”

“Pretty sure that Argentina doesn’t travel at the speed of light, honey.” A bowl of steaming spaghetti with a smattering of sauce slid into Samhain’s view. She glanced up from the accent work on her tablet only to be met with her mom’s soft but stern face. “It’s time to eat, just like I said. You might want to put the homework away.”

“Fine.”

Samhain sighed as she slid all of her notebooks into one crooked pile with a single motion of her elbow. She dumped the pile onto the second shelf of the tiny desk in the corner of the room, only a few feet away from her chair. Samhain stood up and, with one foot, prodded away the wooden plank forcing the glass door shut.

“I’m eating outside.”

“Samhain!”

The girl took no heed as she scooped up a handbound book from the very same shelf and strode onto the deck with her bowl of spaghetti in her free hand. The mildew-spotted wood composing the deck creaked but remained strong as Samhain took a seat near the guard rail . She opened her book in her lap, tuning out her mother’s protestations.

October 31, 2005. The rope was a string because I will tell you all the things you do. Once upon a time, there was a rope called a string. All the strings were made of things that people make to plant in the ground. Then the trees started to lose their twigs and leaves.

“That book sucks, huh?” Lucia sneered, scanning the words on the page over Samhain’s shoulder and accidentally startling Samhain in the process. “Almost like a five-year-old wrote it.”

“It’s a book of old poetry we made together about a decade ago, you dunce.”

Samhain’s mouth twitched. She released a chuckle as she playfully pushed Lucia’s head away. The older sister, in response, scooted over a few inches to see the words without risk of a sweaty palm coming into contact with her face again.

“Well, being that I had involvement in it, no wonder it got published.” Her haughty words only elicited an eye roll from Samhain as the two returned their attentions back to the book.

It was self-published with a stack of printer paper and a few pieces of cardboard, idiot.

The little ones tried planting the seeds into the ground because they got the seeds into the ground. They watered them and then they turned into flowers.

“That statement makes absolutely no sense at all. Why would you try to do something you’ve already done?” Lucia leaned back and adjusted the rubber band holding her ponytail together. “Are you sure that I helped write this? Because even at five I knew how to not make a redundant sentence.”

“At five, Lucia, you spent your days in the special ed classroom learning how to properly hold a pencil and not slur every word you said. Your point’s moot, anyways, since you were six when you penned this.”

The string and the twigs helped them get the windows closed because the sun was shining on them. Everything was made of the things the trees lost. Then the trees got lost.

“I should get ready for my ball game tonight.” Lucia’s foot nudged the uneaten bowl of spaghetti as she stood up and crossed the deck back to the glass door. “Don’t forget to bring a blanket this time. The bleachers are rough.”

3

FRIDAY, DAY 1

The crack of a ball coming to judgment with the focused anger of an adolescent rang throughout the schoolyard, coming to rest somewhere in between the monkey bars and the barrel walk of the adjacent abandoned playground. The passion of it had died after contact with the grass, however. It was only momentum that propelled it to its grave among the pea rocks in the kid’s playground.

Or, in less poetic and convoluted terms, a puberty-cursed baseball player swung his bat too hard and almost took out a spectator’s eye as the ball sailed over the fence.

“This isn’t exactly the best place for someone of your composition to be hanging out, Samhain.”

Samhain’s head whipped around. Scintillations danced in her vision for a few seconds before Argentina came into view. Everything about her friend was blowsy and wind-tossed, from her mane of hair undone from the clips that she had precariously slipped in that morning to her mint jacket half-zipped and flapping in the gusts of wind recklessly zipping through the park.

Samhain hugged her jacket closer to her body. It was two sizes too large for her petite frame.

“And what do you mean by that?”

Argentina slowly lowered herself down onto the concrete and crossed her legs. Disdain crossed her face as she tipped her head towards the group of hooded teens laughing and smoking at the other end of the bleachers.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t put my respiratory system at risk.”

“We’re upwind. As long as they don’t move from that little area, I’ll be safe.”

Samhain rubbed her nose, which did nothing to drive away the pink color spreading over her skin by the cold. It had already sunken deep into her lips, giving them the soft petal flush that her parents had failed to pass down.

“Whatever you say...”

Argentina tucked a stray strand of brunette hair back behind her ear before scooting closer to her friend. At the accidental bump of their hips, Samhain flinched, and she compensated by scooting the same distance to her left.

Confusion dragged itself over Argentina’s face, but she made no attempt to move closer and instead laid her hands in her lap. A heavy silence passed in the air for a few seconds before Argentina opened her mouth again.

“So, Samhain… what are you doing this weekend? I’m planning my birthday party, and my parents need to know.”

Samhain fidgeted, only increasing the tension in the air. “I assume the party would be this weekend?”

“Why would I be asking if it was otherwise?”

“I don’t know.” She diverted her gaze and scratched the skin at the base of her neck. “I’m sorry. I have a trip over the weekend. My doctor gave up constantly prescribing medications that don't work and referred me to a specialist center. Mom’s dropping me off early tomorrow and picking me up Monday morning. There’s no internet access that I’ll be able to get at while there.”

“Oh.” The hope on Argentina’s face fell. She placed a hand on Samhain’s knee. “Can you write letters?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is there a phone that you can use?”

A cloud floated over the sun and dimmed the park. “I don’t know.”

“Is there anything about this place that you do know?”

“I...” Samhain’s palms broke out in a sweat, and she shoved them into the pockets of her coat. She swallowed before answering, “Now that I think of it, I don’t.”

“That’s going to be a problem-” A peal of thunder interrupted Argentina. Her eyes fluttered wider as she turned her head to face the sky, which was quickly gaining a few darker shades of gray. “In more ways than one, it seems.”

A few droplets splattered down and stained the concrete. The clique of smoking teenagers grumbled as they allowed their half-burnt cigarettes to fall to the ground, leaving ashy black trails where they were stomped on and abandoned for a drier part of the park.

Argentina shakily stood up and grabbed Samhain's hand, helping her follow suit. A pair of steel keys effortlessly slipped from Argentina’s pocket to her hand as they forwent the baseball game for the parking lot. “Come on.”

“Where are we going, Argentina?”

Argentina tightened her grip on Samhain’s hand as she approached the rouge van. “Dad gave me the keys to his van. I don’t think he’s missed them yet.”

“Hey, um-”

Argentina tapped the key fob on the rear passenger’s door, which promptly unlocked and slid open. “Yes, Samhain?”

“Is your dad still mad at you because you drove me home?”

“He was pretty pissed, but only for a few minutes.” Argentina helped her friend into the van before she herself plopped into the row of seats in the back. “Mom talked some sense into him before he could take my electronic privileges away.”

Samhain was more graceful as she seated herself beside the brunette, whose hair was staticky and almost seemed to float as she rested her face on the seatbelt. The door from which they came slid closed, shutting out the downpour just on the verge of beginning.

“Not like it would have mattered for this weekend, anyways.”

Argentina closed her eyes, allowing the smells that had accrued in the van over the years to settle back into her brain. There was the pervasive odor of the car freshener hanging off of the rear view mirror. The stench of the ketchup spill from a trip to a fast food restaurant a few months ago still faintly shone somewhere in the seat next to her, even though the stain itself had been cleaned away a few days after the incident.

Argentina’s own fragrance was more of a vanilla, but she’d long since grown used to it, and the sweet scent no longer registered in her brain.

And then there was Samhain, lemon aromas bursting into life just two feet away. Argentina had missed that smell.

4

SATURDAY, DAY 2

“Anders, we’re out of lemons again.”

Anders felt the weight of his assistant’s heavy hand settle onto his shoulder. He promptly shrugged it off, a habit from his college days, and returned his attention to the tank looming in the middle of the room- large enough to engulf a small group of ferociously bickering adults, but instead populated by a single skeleton suspended in the cerulean solution.

“And what exactly do you want me to do about that, Giles?”

Their voices echoed for a few seconds in the small enclosure. If the building had remained a massive apartment complex, as it had originally been built for, this might have been a communal rec room- hosting all sorts of clubs and watching the children who would have lived here slowly grow up. It would have been eventually abandoned by each subsequent batch of kids seeking activities that weren't overseen by the community, of course. But the inhabitants of this corner of the city had long since vacated for other patches of sky, allowing the government to reclaim it and repurpose it as a research facility.

Giles scratched the patch of pale skin at the back of his neck, which was the only part of his body save portions of his face that still bared hairs.

“I’m requesting permission to send a restocking order, sir. I know how important your lemonade is to you.”

The husk of his assistant’s voice made Anders shudder, but he turned around nevertheless to face him.

“You don’t have to ask my permission for something as simple as restocking the place.”

“I did two weeks ago when you ran all out of whatever meats and we had to feed the subjects oatmeal for a week instead. I ran all over the place, panicking and looking for you.” Giles’ eyebrows furrowed. “I should have known that you’d be camped out here- nobody ever dares to bother you when you’re overseeing ML-218.”

“That was an exception.”

Anders rolled his eyes. He turned back around and rested his elbows on the guard rail surrounding the tank. The robotic arm ritually slithering through the water caught his attention as it hooked onto one of the skeleton’s upper arms. It printed out a strip of gooey pink muscle, which immediately adhered to the limb. If Anders had leaned any further, he could have tapped the glass and watched the robot arm flail as it struggled to account for the disturbance.

He remained still as he inquired, “Is there anything else that you want while you’re here?”

“I came to remind you of a few appointments.” Giles approached Anders, resting one hand on the guard rail. Anders refused to meet his eyes. He coughed and added, “For starters, we’ve got a new patient coming in today seeking treatment-”

“That hasn’t happened in a while,” Anders blurted. “That must be a new record, seeing how many days we could go without having the hospitals foist an invalid on us.”

Giles scoffed. “Maybe because we’re highly selective in who we treat? Honestly, Anders…” He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his eyebrows. “We’re not one of the hospitals in this city, but that doesn’t mean that you can treat this place like one and completely isolate yourself in here.”

“They weren’t building people from scratch when I worked there, Giles. The hospitals just react to the patients and their countless ailments.” He stretched his arms out wide, gesturing to the entirety of the building before dropping them back down to his sides. “We’re supposed to be proactive. Thus, I can do whatever I want as long as we’re making some kind of medical progress that the government’s willing to fund.”

“And you’re no doubt taking full advantage of that.”

How in the world did you ever get into the administrator’s position?

“Anyways, the patient’s name is Samhain Havstrom. The doctor’s notes that were transmitted yesterday while you were doing god-knows-what with Amane say that she’s been suffering from some sort of autoimmune issues her whole life. No specific diagnosis was found due to the insurance not being sufficient enough. She’s going to be staying here from in a few hours to Monday morning, and I’ll be damned if she shows up and there are no accommodations for her to stay in.”

Anders parted his hazel hair down the middle, desperately in need of a haircut, and scratched the top of his scalp. “And why hasn’t a room been prepped yet? You don’t need my permission for everything.”

“Because the employee training hasn’t included outpatient arrivals for at least a few years?”

“Just go prepare a room.” Anders waved his free hand towards the door, finally acknowledging Giles’ presence in his sight. “Preferably in the east side as far away from my suite as possible. I bet Lainey has some cots hanging around in storage somewhere. We’ll make this work.”

5

SATURDAY, DAY 2

I’ve seen three moving trucks so far, and they’ve all had female drivers. Are there no males moving out of the city? Maybe they’re busy somewhere else. Maybe they’re enjoying the lilac morning sky somewhere on a beach with teal waters. There are no beaches like that in Wychester. I hear that there are a few in Soona Bris, but only the elite can get at them, and only on certain days. Not that it matters- everybody’s an elite there.

“Samhain, you’re mumbling again. Either talk clearly or don’t talk at all. You’re muddling up my hearing aids.”

“Sorry, mom.” Samhain fiddled with the shoulder strap of her seatbelt as she squirmed, trying to get comfortable on the hard seat. “I guess I’ll be quiet now.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Her mother kept her eyes on the road ahead of them as she made a right turn onto the highway. “Runaway thoughts aren’t that much of a trouble when you don't need to focus, just as long as you aren’t babbling nonsense. What’s on your mind?”

A few cars passed by their vehicle on the lane to their right as they accelerated. “Stress. Lots of stress.”

“I understand. Transitions are rough.” An obnoxiously red car cut into the lane in front of them, and Samhain’s mother rolled down the window and honked as she shouted profanities at the driver. After she’d gotten an equally impassioned response, she rolled the window back up and returned to her calm and collected demeanor. She wiped her forehead with one of her sleeves as she admitted, “Sorry about that. I don’t know what got into me there.”

“I’ve never seen you act like that before.”

“I try to set a good example when I’m around other adults I know. Mostly so that the neighborhood doesn’t think that I’m being abusive and that’s the reason why you have… difficulties.” The trio of tiny metallic crosses hanging from the rearview window tinkled as she took the gradual turn left on the highway. “Oh, what was I talking about again? That nasty woman behind the wheel knocked everything out of my head.”

“Transitions being rough-”

“Oh, yeah, that.” She offhandedly waved one hand, immediately returning it to the wheel when the van in front of her threatened to switch out of the lane. “You’ll be fine. Your father and I visited this place while you were in school yesterday. The person who runs it- his name is Anders Shew, I think- skipped third and seventh grade. Rumor has it that he also graduated from college a year early because he was so sought after in the medical field that the Soona Brisian government gave him a special pass. He’s made all sorts of breakthroughs in the field of extending life. The same rumors say that he plans to make humans immortal.”

“Umm...” Samhain folded her hands in her lap to try to calm her jiggling legs. “Rumors aren’t exactly the most reliable things in the world, Mom… And that whole notion of immortality is quite frankly ludicrous.”

Her mother took a deep breath. “He’s also incredibly guarded about his personal life. I could barely find anything that wasn’t amounting to god worship.”

Samhain’s eyes narrowed. “Exactly how much research did you do?”

“A few hours worth.” She turned onto the highway exit. “I’d rather play it safe than risk handing off my precious daughter to a psychopath.”

Her daughter scoffed as her eyes rolled across the wide open landscapes coming into view. “Mom, you've got to be joking. You seriously think that the online tabloids are going to be reliable? And really? Immortality? I think that, even with the Pact, the outlying cities would have caught wind of that by now.” She fell silent as the van pulled up to the stoplight, spilling red hues onto the damp road. “I wonder if there’s anything that he would need to hide, anyways.”

6

SATURDAY, DAY 2

"It's time to wake up, dearest."

Samhain hadn't realized that she had drifted off into a restless nap until she felt her mother ruffling her hand through her hair. The van jolted to a stop as her mother's hand pulled away, forcing Samhain's eyes to open and acknowledge that they had arrived at their destination.

"Huh? What's going on?"

Samhain rubbed her eyes, wincing as she peeled the side of her face away from the seatbelt. The sun's glint off of the front windows of the building flickered in her eyes, and she rubbed them until they hurt no more. The building, from her renewed glance after the scintillations had passed, was about the same size as her high school- but it looked far more like a dreary office building with foggy windows.

"Oh, we're here."

"Yes, dearest, we're here."

Her mother slipped out of the vehicle as Samhain adjusted to the brightness of her new surroundings. They'd parked in the small lot in front of a modest-sized courtyard- the ornately carved fountain in the middle softly tinkled as rivulets of water spilled from its upper lip. Sidewalks of concrete branched out in all directions bordered by potted flowers, but they were unconcerned with them as they walked to the front door.

"Do you want to ring the doorbell?" Samhain's mother gestured towards the entrance. "Or I can. It's your choice."

"Please just do it, mom."

"Alright..."

Her mother rolled her eyes. The blue dot on the tiny touchscreen doorbell flickered as her finger approached, and it disappeared completely as her fingerprint made contact with the glass surface. Instead of a chime inside announcing their presence, however, something heavy from one of the second floor rooms to their right crashed to the floor.

A young man about six feet tall- towering a few inches above the mother- strode up to the locked doors as an unearthly scream from the same room careened down both of their spines. He flinched for a few seconds before shaking his head and unlocking the doors, pulling one open with his elbow.

"Welcome to the Research Institute of Soona Bris, my guests."

He threw a hand behind him as he opened the door, welcoming them in like they were guests in his own home. They strolled to the center circular area, natural light from the glass dome far above their heads spilling down. Staff dashed left and right in and out of the hallways, but none of them paid any attention to the mother and her daughter.

"I assume that you've enjoyed what you've seen of the city so far?"

"I was trying to focus on the road, thank you very much," the mother responded curtly with a bob of her head. "And my daughter napped half of the way here. We didn't stop anywhere during our short trip."

Disappointment crossed Anders' face before he took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Well, hopefully you'll take a few hours to peruse what this city has to offer on your trip home. That is, if you're not staying in a hotel nearby, which I recommend- and even then, there are still places for you to explore."

He paused then, and one of his thumbs settled on his lips as he took a moment to regain his train of thought. Samhain's mother tensed in the silence and remained so as he pulled his thumb away.

"Ah! I almost forgot," he exclaimed. He extended his hand in front of him, and both mother and daughter shook it. "My name is Anders Shew. I'll be overseeing the care of your lovely daughter over the weekend, Mrs. Havstrom. Sow-win, I believe?"

Wasn't this in your file? "Her name is pronounced Sam-hayn, sir."

Anders fiddled with the polished wooden buttons near the collar of his starched shirt. "That's not what the dictionary told me."

"Well, it's what she responds to and what everybody's used to, so there's no changing it now." The mother scratched the top of her head, mussing her dirty blonde hair. "Is there any paperwork I still need to sign? I need to leave as soon as possible. My older daughter has baseball practice in a few hours, and my husband is at work."

"Just one page. Right this way, please."

Anders spun on his foot to the right and led the party to one of the offices of the west side. He shut the door behind him as Samhain and her mother took a seat on the same side of the table, the only piece of furniture in the room save for a few matching chairs.

"What is this for?" the mother blurted out, grasping the paper in both hands and holding it closer to her eyes. Anders took his seat at the opposite side as she buried her face in the words. Her eyes scanned over the paper, but the fine print going off in seventeen different tangents refused to make any sense.

"It's a liability form that we realized was required by the city during your trip up here. We must have missed it when we were going over everything online." Anders wiped his forehead with his sleeve and slid a gold-laced pen from his pocket to the woman in the same fluid motion. "All of the discussions were in the middle of the night. It's no big deal."

"That doesn't answer my question. What am I waiving liability to?"

Anders didn't miss a beat as he answered, "Our building has a recurrent noise problem on the second floor, which is off limits to the general public. Due to that, we are authorized to keep and operate fifty sleeping pods here to artificially induce sleep. Our round-the-clock resident guards find them incredibly helpful when on breaks, because when disturbances are at maximum frequency and you have someone screaming every five minutes, it's quite difficult to get any kind of quality sleep. And quality sleep is essential for optimal cognitive function."

The woman's eyebrows wrinkled, and Anders could tell that she rarely read anything other than housewife magazines with simple words. "May I ask exactly what kind of disturbances?"

"I wish I could tell you that, but unfortunately that's confidential information." A corner of his mouth twitched in a smirk. "The sleeping pods are state-of-the-art, but that's only because those are the only kind of sleeping pods in the world. Not all of the rough edges have been smoothened out yet, so if we find that your daughter suddenly can't wake up, you can't sue us while we find the override codes."

By this time, sweat from Samhain's mother's palms had stained the paper where she was still clutching it. She set the crumpled paper down onto the table for a minute, smoothing the creases before hastily signing her name- "Marsha Havstrom"- and the current date on the appropriate lines.

Slamming her pen down, she released in a hefy burst of breath, "Mayipleasegohomenow?"

"Don't you want to say a few words to your daughter before you go home?"

"I'd prefer not risking a panic attack any longer. I love you, Samhain. Be a good patient while I'm gone."

The woman hightailed it of the room, slamming the office door behind her. Samhain's own palms broke out in a cold sweat as she watched her mother disappear from the hallways through the tiny window in the office door.

"Well, that was most unpleasant," Anders muttered to himself as he brushed a stray clump of hair out of his face. Turning his attention back to Samhain, he inquired, "Do you want a tour before I take you into the preliminary examination room?"

"Sure, I guess..." The girl, noticing that she had slumped at her mother's sudden departure, straightened her posture in her chair. "You're not going to kill me, are you?"

"No, not at all." Anders stood up, and Samhain warily followed suit. "Much the opposite. The people working at this place are slowly becoming masters at evading death. I hope my assistant Giles can evade whatever caused your mother to leave so abruptly and come back quickly with your luggage."

"It's just one suitcase, and only filled with clothes at that."

"Well, I wouldn't put it past your mother-" Anders jerked his head back to the window behind him, which offered a clear view of the courtyard, before turning back to Samhain- "to give him a run for his money. He might be strong, but no matter what we did to him all those years ago, he still can't outrun a decent truck."

"When's the next meal?"

"Yours? Not for quite a few hours yet. Anesthetics are harder to use when one has to compensate for potential discharge from the stomach." Anders strode towards the door, scooping up Samhain's delicate hand in his own as he passed by. "Come along now. It's time for the tour."

7

SATURDAY, DAY 2

Being that the second floor of the building was off limits to Samhain, the tour took no more than five minutes to cycle through the office end of the first floor and to traverse their way up the winding staircase. The third floor took almost no time at all to pass through as the private living spaces which it was composed of were all locked. As far as Anders was concerned, they were filled with dozing guards in watery sleeping pods and therefore not to be disturbed.

The trip down the circular staircase back to the first floor was an entirely different situation. Anders was inattentive as the walkie-talkie secured to his hip had buzzed in the middle of his third floor walk, informing him that several of the organs that he had designed a few weeks prior had fully grown in their respective tanks. As such, it was not unusual for him to misplace his foot every ten steps or so in distraction.

“I thought you said that you weren’t trying to kill me.”

He jerked his attention away from his feet to notice a fuming Samhain a few steps in front of him, cautiously regaining her foothold from her embrace with the hand rail. He halted before inquiring, “I beg your pardon?”

“You almost tripped me.”

“I’m sorry. I was contemplating one of my pet projects and got distracted.”

“No kidding.” Samhain’s scowl faded as she turned back around and continued plodding down the staircase. Anders stayed a respectful distance- three or four steps depending on the girl’s pace- behind her. She accused nothing more as they continued their descent.

They had just reached the landing for the second floor when a cackle rent the air from one of the forbidden rooms and settled in shocks down their spines. Anders instinctively jerked his arm out and caught Samhain’s hand as a freakish being- pure white with at least five eyes that Samhain could count- burst out of its room on all fours, followed by three hectic and panicking volunteers.

Samhain, to his dismay, shrunk away from him and plastered herself to the opposite hand rail. Her face blanched as she spat out, “What the hell is that?”

“That is none of your business.” He lunged for her hand, which was gratefully accepted this time, and dashed down the remaining stairs as quickly as his charge could handle. As soon as the sounds of the freak had faded into obscurity among the thick walls, Samhain yanked her hand away from Anders and collapsed in a jittering mess by the wall.

“Samhain?” Anders crouched down in front of the girl, casting his shadow onto her face. “Are you feeling okay? We can postpone the physical examination for a few hours if you feel nauseated.”

“Nauseated, my ass.” Samhain grimaced as her trembling body rose from the floor. Anders followed suit, and she gratefully followed him down the end of the hallway- the opposite end from which they had begun their tour. “What place would that have here?”

“I told you, it’s none of your business.”

Samhain froze in her steps, forcing Anders to cease walking and turn towards her in exasperation. She crossed her arms as she asserted, “I’m not going anywhere until you explain that.”

“The waiver that your mother signed explicitly gave us permission to sedate you if you refused to participate in required treatment. And I’m not talking about the one from today that your mother signed in front of you.”

Samhain’s forceful guise melted for a moment before reassuming itself. “It seems awfully shady that you would rather forcibly make me go unconscious than take a few seconds to explain yourself. Almost makes you wonder if Area 51 wasn’t enough for conspiracy theorists to go bonkers.”

At the mention of Area 51, a vein in Anders’ jaw twitched, and he sighed as he turned around and resumed ambling. Sensing Samhain trailing behind him, he explained with his sense of pride beaten, “We’re in the middle of a study about what the next major hominid variant will be. What you saw was a failure. We’ve gotten much, much closer than that before the specimen you saw.”

“So you’re essentially playing God?”

“I prefer re-engineering the human race, but call it what you want.” Anders halted in front of a door and retrieved a pair of jingling keys from his left pocket. “I have to go take care of whatever incident happened on the second floor earlier. Please behave for my assistants. They will reciprocate as much respect as you give them.”

“You sound like my dad, except my dad doesn’t attempt to create entirely new species.”

His eyes darkened as he unlocked the door and jiggled the handle open. “With a mouth like that, don’t be surprised if you get less than preferential treatment.” Anders removed his keys from the door handle and strode away with much longer strides than he’d shown Samhain the entire tour.

Samhain tore her stare away from him and shuddered before pulling the door all the way open and stepping inside. She was immediately met with an almost-blinding white light from above, to which she winced and held her arms up to her eyes.

“Oh, shoot! Sorry about that!” a female voice shot out. The lights dimmed to a tolerable level, but Samhain still kept her hands above her eyes as she took a gander around the room. A wisp of a woman stood tall and proud beside an oblong metal table, and three assistants each had their hands on a separate wheeled side table with various unknown metallic tools on them.

“What do I do?” The light dimmed to a normal level, and Samhain’s hands dropped back down to her sides. A lump in her throat lurched, and her eyes watered as she squeaked, “What are you going to do? What- what-”

The woman pushed past the assistants and came to Samhain’s side, offering her shoulder to lean on as Samhain collapsed into a panicking mess. She helped Samhain to sit on the metal table, offering her a rag from one of the side tables to slow her breathing. “There there, now, it’s going to be all right. Nobody’s going to hurt you.”

“I- I’m sorry.” Samhain’s breath shuddered from behind the rag. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me- Anders, he probably hates me now-”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” the woman stated. “Unless you caused physical harm to him, he’s most likely not going to hate you. See you as inferior, yes, but not hate.” She paused for a few heaving breaths from Samhain before continuing. “We’re just going to give you a few drugs so that you can relax, and then we’re going to do a few scans to see exactly what the problem is. Can you please lay down?”

The girl’s voice wavered. “What’s your name?”

“What- oh, my name’s Lainey.” The woman slipped her nametag out of its place tucked inside her bra for a moment and then extended one open palm towards the three assistants. “Can you please lay down, Samhain? It’ll make this a lot easier.”

“Do I get to keep my rag?” You remembered my name, even.

Lainey pondered this for a moment before relenting. Samhain leaned back on the table until she felt her back make contact with the chilled surface, temperature perceivable through her thin shirt. With the rag pressed up against her face with one hand, she felt the hands of who she guessed to be a nameless helper gently take her free arm and lay it flat against the table.

There was a popping of some kind of cork.

There was a tinkle of glass against the tile of the room.

There was a prick on the forearm that the helper still had his gloved hands on, bringing with it the sensation of her veins freezing, spreading through her skin.

And then there

was

silence.

8

SUNDAY, DAY 3

“And eight and ten times x divided by 16 is twenty-six multiplied by the velocity...”

“Argentina, dearest.”

A gentle pair of knuckles tapped the polished wood of the bedroom door. Argentina, not expecting the sudden intrusion into her concentration, jolted her head up at the sound- and immediately slammed her head against the lip of the desk’s lowest shelf.

She cringed as she pulled her head away from the desk, rubbing the spot on her scalp where the pain was slowly fading. Capping her pencil, she shouted behind her, “What do you want, mom?”

“Someone dropped this letter off at the door a few minutes ago since the post office was closed. Here-” and a muted scrape under the doorway caught Argentina’s attention- “it’s addressed to you.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

Argentina slipped out of her white wicker chair for a moment to retrieve the crisp envelope sitting on the floor before turning back to the desk. With one hand still clutching the letter, she swept the rest of the objects on her desk into a somewhat neat pile and laid the letter in the space.

Her hand reached to undo the adhesive and open the envelope, but she drew it back for one second. Why bypass the post office? Anthrax attacks were a thing of the far past, and she didn’t have any enemies who hated her enough to try to kill her in such a cold and anonymous way as the mail. And why no return address- not even a fake one, in order to pin the blame on somebody else?

Shut up, Argentina, and open the damn letter.

Her hand stretched out again, and she took the letter gently into her fingers before ripping into the top fold. Dumping the letter revealed not a white powder but a single crumpled piece of faded and yellowing paper, heavy pen strokes betrayed from the outside folds.

Now that I think of it, Aunt Sarah hasn’t written back in a really long time…

Argentina unfolded the paper, but instead of the recurrent five-dollar birthday gift card to a trashy supermarket, Samhain’s name shone from the dried-out ink in the upper right hand corner.

Dear Argentina, I can’t say that this place has been at all enjoyable for me to be in, but it isn’t prison, and it certainly isn’t hell- you know what, I take the second statement back. This might as well be a prison, as I’m either watched via security camera or escorted places 24/7. But prisons don’t claim to find a medical problem of yours and forcibly sedate you so that they can fit you into a scanning machine without having to worry about a panicking, flailing body. Prisons just keep you there because you intentionally did something wrong and pose a threat to other people.

I guess another thing that prisons don’t do is attempt to play god with rejected babies. There’s a whole floor here that I’m not to visit on any occasion whatsoever- and it would be fine if this was just because of a security issue.

Argentina set the letter down and wiped the sweat off her forehead. Playing god? She was aware that the city of Soona Bris was well known for its breakthroughs in genetic manipulation, yes, but that was only actively practiced in making the babies born within its borders free of birth defects and predisposed to healthy habits. Taking a sip of peach tea from the water bottle sitting at the back of the desk didn’t make the first sentence of that paragraph any clearer, so she persevered on.

But it’s not a security issue- from what I’ve gathered over bits and pieces, the sound level at nighttime is more of an issue than making sure that burglars don’t make off with a writhing bleach-skinned creature that no doubt took thousands of dollars to design. The ragged fingernails would probably strip away what little dignity the burglar had left. There are no doubt more human presences than this among the second floor, being that I only ever witnessed one… but I don’t really put anything insane past the people here anymore.

Everybody here has a phone or communication device except for me. Heck, Anders Shew- the person who supposedly runs this place, although he looks more like an intern than an administrator- carries both a top-notch smartphone and a walkie-talkie on his pompous belt. Please write back soon, Argentina. I suspect that I’ll be spending a good deal of time here after this initial meeting, and a routine would certainly help.

Yours sincerely, Samhain Havstrom

Yours sincerely…

Argentina retrieved her pen and notebook from the pile, but instead of returning to her stoichiometry, she scrawled her name- Argentina St. Augustine- in the top right corner like Samhain had done. However, unlike her friend, as her hands flew across the page, she told not a story of freakish beings locked up in forbidden realms but of a much more mundane scene. The internet, she rationalized as she penned her worries, would surely yield the address she needed later.

9

SUNDAY, DAY 3

“And… that should do it.”

Samhain gently folded the last pair of socks from her now-empty suitcase and placed them on the top shelf of her desk alongside the other plain clothes. Her brain threatened to drag her thoughts somewhere else, but she shook her head and deposited her suitcase in the alcove between the desk and the wall.

The angle of the window in her room only afforded her a small strip of the courtyard when her attention eventually drifted to it- but to compensate, the sun looming towards sunset cast a few golden rays down on the flowers growing against the building and dressed up their sweet fragrance a little.

Samhain turned back to the room and sighed, her morale dropping a little at her surroundings. Except for maybe the bright blue hue of the plastic shell of the sleeping pod- which was humming away, awaiting the use that would undoubtedly come a few hours later- the room was an amalgamation of grays and whites. As she wandered towards her room’s door, the rough carpeting beneath her feet threatened to scratch her feet through her socks.

Her doorknob, which she had expected to be locked, gave way easily at her touch. For a few moments, she stood apprehensively at the open doorway- Should I really be doing this? What good could possibly come from this- before the yawn of a guard from next door slipping into his own sleeping pod pushed her to dash towards the stairway.

Her socks made no sound as she slipped down the first few steps of the staircase. Samhain stopped, listening for guards- if any came, she could just rationalize her absence from her room as getting lost on the way to the bathroom- but as none came, she grasped the guard rail and continued her voyage to the second floor.

Samhain! What’s gotten into you lately? You’re already in hot waters with Anders, and now you’re purposely flying in his face after he’s been so gracious not to kick you out after your behavior yesterday.

I’m bored. And what are they going to do, anyways? Anders signed a contract to improve my health, and now he has to fulfill it.

Samhain-

No! I’m already most of the way to the second floor, so I might as well go all of the way.

Samhain treaded lightly onto the landing for the second floor, fearing a rustle against metal that would give her away to whoever was still on patrol- but fortunately for her, she lucked out and was able to pass into the hallway without any of the employees noticing her. Not that there were any currently on this floor, being that the dinner bell had rung a good five minutes ago- but one had to be completely sure.

Two series of numbered doors stretched down both sides of the hallway, evenly spaced apart and with no windows betraying their contents. After a brief moment of indecision, Samhain began her misconduct with the first door to her left and threw it open with a bang-

Her hand quickly clapped over her mouth as she stumbled a few feet back, her vocal chords spasming in a desire to shriek. The room, from what she could see, was lined with small tanks of sorts. Each one contained a pink mass floating within overly blue waters- some pickled with blue spots over their surface, some rippling with skin growths, some taut and exposing veins interspersed within.

Are those…

Samhain swallowed and dropped her hand back to her side. Her feet tiptoed back into the room as best as she could, being as they were still trembling along with the rest of her legs. A single lightbulb hung down from the center of the ceiling, and Samhain’s eyes flickered from tank to tank as she recognized what could have been a heart, a lung, a bloated stomach- all just floating in solitude along with their unrecognizable peers with no signs of ever having performed their intended purpose.

A rancid taste trailed down Samhain’s throat as she swallowed, backing out of the room and latching it shut behind her.

Why am I so frightened by a non-sentient object such as an organ? It must be much more efficient than having to constantly be soliciting organ donors. What a stupid thing for me to be scared about.

The next room she intruded upon, further down the hallway to her right, did not afford her such an easy rationalization. The air around Samhain shimmered as she approached door number seven, but the sensation of walking into a field of balloons rubbing over children’s hairs faded as her fingers wrapped around the handle. The door opened, and she stepped inside much more cautious this time, slowing the door on its rebound before it could slam against the doorway.

Samhain turned around to face the classroom-sized room. A few pairs of eyeballs immediately focused on her, halting her in her steps, and she was instantly unnerved by the scaly-skinned child kneeling at her feet.

“H-hello?” Samhain crouched down to his eye level and waved a hand in front of his emerald face, forcing him to blink. “How are you? Who are you?”

“I’m Samus,” the creature responded, scratching a patch of scales on his neck with his back foot. “You got food? We’re starving.”

“We-” and then Samhain glanced above Samus’ head. Two small girls with dingy and faded angel’s wings poking out of each of their backs were perching on top of the two stacks of cages, wherein other children were dozing. “Oh. Sorry. I don’t work here.”

“Then you best get out,” Samus warned, nudging Samhain back towards the door. “The feeders will be coming soon with their hordes of clipboard wielders. Unless you want to be one of us, but that would be a painful and unrewarding road to take.”

“I think I’ll pass.”

Samhain shuddered as she pushed herself up and exited the room. A few creaks sounded from upstairs, and Samhain glanced towards the ceiling for a moment before dashing into the room across the hall.

She pulled the door closed after her entry, closing her eyes and collapsing against the wall. Behind her clenching eyelids, streaks of pink and purple passed by .

Get a grip on yourself, Samhain. You chose to go exploring down here, and now you’re going to suffer the consequences.

But I thought that all of the workers were sleeping or at dinner!

You don’t know that for sure, and neither do you know that they’re coming for you as you talk to yourself. Now open your eyes and face whatever you’ve intruded upon.

In the center of the enclosure was a glass tank stretching up to the ceiling and framed by a safety rail the whole way around. As Samhain regained her balance from her spinning head and hoisted herself up, the contents came into clarity, and she wobbled her way over to the tank. In front of her, floating inside the calm blue of the tank, was a salmon-colored and blobby figure in the vague shape of a human being.

Tapping the tank, Samhain found, threw off the sensors on the robotic arm writhing inside, and it floated up to the top to reposition itself as Samhain rested her palm on the cool glass in front of her. The figure itself, to her relief, was undisturbed and still suspended in the exact center of the enclosure.

“Samhain Havstrom!”

At the intrusion, she whipped around, her elbow catching on the safety rail and sending her to the floor. As she wheezed her way back up, the voice continued, “What the hell do you think you’re doing in here?”

“I...” A perturbed Samhain looked up from where she was leaning on the rail still bolted to the floor and standing strong. Through her pounding head, she could make out the figure of an irate woman with her arms crossed in the doorway. “Well...”

“Explain yourself!” she barked.

“I just wanted to go for a walk, okay?” Samhain pushed herself off of the guard rail, scanning the room for any additional exits out of the corner of her eye- there were none. “Is that such a crime?”

“Do you know how important this project is? You could have ruined it. Three months of research completely down the drain.”

The woman snatched Samhain’s hand while the girl was still looking away and dragged her out of the room, heading for the closest staircase.

“I sure hope that you’ll have a good explanation to give to Anders.”

“I’ll just tell him what I told you. I was going for a walk. Which is the truth, you know- I was looking for the bathroom, and then I got lost, and these rooms were far more interesting than a silly toilet could ever hope to be, anyways-”

“Stop rambling.”

The incensed staff member pulled her elevator key out of her pocket with her free hand and twisted it in its appropriate slot. In a few seconds, the elevator’s doors whooshed open, and she waited for the steel platform to extend before dragging a flailing Samhain into the car and pushing the ‘shut doors’ button.

“Your file said that you were compliant and delicate at home. Almost to angelic standards, your mother added. What’s gotten into you?”

“I’ve been asking the same thing myself,” she murmured, her face down on the elevator car floor. “Obviously, I’m no closer to finding that answer than you are.”

The woman’s eyes softened for a moment out of Samhain’s sight, but by the time that the girl had pulled herself back up in anticipation for wherever she was being hauled to, her eyes had hardened again along with her hawkish expression.

“You will spend the remainder of the evening in your room. Your food will be delivered to you, and you will be escorted to the bathroom if you need to empty your bladder during your stay.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then we’ll find a way to force it out. No self-humiliation here on my watch.”

Her grip returned to Samhain’s wrist as the doors opened, exposing the third floor. Samhain kept up to her pace this time, dragging her feet like a scolded dog as the woman locked the door from the outside.

“Good night, Samhain. Please refrain from attempting to unlock the door. Trust us, it will reflect even worse on you.”

Samhain waited until the woman’s steps had faded into the distance before sitting down on the plexiglass lid of the sleeping pod. Below her, she observed, the foam of the molding chair rested as whatever water-like substance delicately waved below.

I wonder…

She pushed herself off of the sleeping pod and reached for the pile of clothes. Still tucked away in her jeans, she found, was the notebook and the pen that she’d smuggled along. Returning the clothes to the desk shelf, she sat down and flipped the notebook open to a clean page.

Argentina, I honestly don’t blame you for not having written me back yet. It’s only been a day, and you must have your own terribly important things that you’re doing with your family. But I am afraid that the induced dreams from the sleeping pods here might erase my memory of the day’s proceedings, so here is my honest account of my observations of the restricted second floor.

10

MONDAY, DAY 4

One of the fluorescent lights over Argentina’s head flickered as she took her seat in the middle of the English classroom. The middle was the perfect place for her psyche, or so she thought, anyways- too far back, and any chances of successfully pursuing group work would cease as its inhabitants were either dead silent like a funeral or emulating the noise levels of a jet taking off. Too far forward, and she’d begin noticing the little unimportant things about the teacher, like how many creases were formed by his shirt tucked into his pants and on which days he chose a fancy knot in his tie as opposed to a simpler one.

Only about a quarter of the class had found their place inside of the classroom before the final bell rung, sending whoever was in the hallways into either a panicked frenzy to get to their proper classrooms or into a careless clump around the stairways, discussing run-of-the-mill pop stars and dropping distasteful language with every other word. The parking lot, visible from the angle of the third-floor classroom, was a bee’s hive of activity with probably hundreds of kids loitering on the grounds. Only an adult with their cold stare and reprimanding lips could dispel them, and being that they were all busy teaching, the delinquents reigned over the concrete uncontested.

The trinkets on Argentina’s backpack shimmered as a few more members of the student body sheepishly shrugged their way into the classroom. The teacher looked up from his newspaper for a moment for each one that passed by. But four minutes after the bell had rung and the flow of students slowed, he sighed, rolled up his newspaper, and tossed it to the wall behind him.

This is why I hate Mondays, the wrinkles on his forehead spoke. I wish I could win the lottery so that I didn’t have to work with you whippersnappers anymore.

He arose from his chair and took his place at his metal lectern a meter away from his desk. He slipped his hands into his pockets before letting out a wistful sigh.

“I’m disappointed in this class,” he admitted, casting his eyes over the scattering of students present. “Opportunity Hour was a bad idea, but it’s no excuse for-” he gestured towards the half-full classroom- “this. I get the reasons why- only having it on Mondays messes up everybody’s schedule, and holding it before first hour gives the more impudent of you the idea that it’s actually a half-hour late start… which it obviously isn’t.”

A scrawny brunette boy behind Argentina raised his hand. “But sir, we’re never actually graded on anything that happens there-”

“But you gotta make the effort to at least come to class on time!”

He pounded his fist on the lectern, awaking some of the kids dozing off in the back. He stared off into the back of the classroom, hoping that he could regain his calm demeanor, but he gave up and retreated back to his desk.

“A million thanks to all of you who actually showed up. Today...”

Argentina drifted off for a few moments as she pulled her notebook out of her backpack, but she got the general gist of the free day’s assignment- write a journal entry about the most absurd thing that the writer had ever witnessed, and the ones that the teacher’s assistant (who was off helping another teacher on the other side of the building) felt had a good amount of effort put into them received fifteen free points on the Pride and Prejudice test at the end of the week. Simple enough, right?

Her peers immediately gathered their materials and backpacks and organized into their respective friend groups, set in stone sometime in the first few weeks of school. Argentina glanced around the room for a few seconds and, not seeing Lucia anywhere and presuming her absent, holed up in the corner of the room.

What to write… Her pen tapped against the page for a few moments as her attention drifted onto the side conversations commencing around her. The cheerleader skirt incident of 2008, the power outage of the previous week, the horribly failed skit that she’d witnessed over the weekend… what to write…

I wonder if Samhain is doing okay. I bet the staff would like her. Angels are supposed to be well adapted to medical surroundings, right? Because of all the dying people wondering about the afterlife? She uncapped her pen and began scrawling the first incident that came to her mind. Or maybe I’m just procrastinating and making up fairy tales to soothe myself.

A few months ago, there was this kid- eccentric, normally, even though that’s an oxymoron- who sat in the front row. He was probably one of those fringe special ed kids who left the classroom once a week in elementary school to go do something more interesting than rubber band toy cars, like reading about headless Barbie dolls and filling out worksheets. You’d think that it would be the other way around… but I digress.

One day, this kid showed up to class completely whacked out- and I mean completely, because he was stumbling around the desks like it was Halloween and he’d decided to be one of those wobbling toys that were popular a few years prior. The class drug dealer- well known for his daring escapades to make a fortune selling the green stuff in the bathrooms with a clean behavioral slate (as far as the school was concerned)- immediately began whispering to his friend that the kid smelled like weed. And, as expected, bets were taken on who would be the first person to unironically make a 4/20 joke.

Rumor had it that the English teacher himself bought a few grams a couple months prior from the drug dealer. Fortunately for his clean drug test streak, the math teachers had all gone on strike over unfair pay, and the school had shut down completely for a week. My point is, if the teacher himself had been there that day, the student would have immediately been removed to somewhere where he could come down from the high and done something else productive to make up for the absence. But instead, there was a substitute that day.

This substitute was a heavyset woman with a good amount of fat around her waist and a slow mind. She struggled for ten minutes trying to figure out the DVD player, and when a student offered to help her find the play button on the remote, she refused his help and threatened to write him a lunch detention.

The high kid decided that he couldn’t take any more of watching her meaty fingers fumble over the remote and blurted out the eponymous “Four-twenty blaze it!”

The substitute’s gaze turned towards the student, who was grinning and sitting tall in his front row seat. “What the hell did you just say to me?”

Aware of the audience that he had garnered, he said, “That you should lighten up a bit. It’s just a remote.” He twisted around in his seat, eyes flickering across his classmates who were violently struggling to contain their laughter. “Anybody got any chips? I gotta munchies.”

“That’s nowhere near what you said, son.” Her face darkened a bit, and she deposited the remote onto the teacher’s desk before turning back to the student. “You want to join that kid-” she pointed to the boy who had offered his help earlier- “in lunch detention?”

“But not all hope is lost!” He licked his lips before bending over to his left and pulling his backpack out from underneath his desk. He unzipped the top and retrieved a slowly dripping plastic bag of bright red hot sauce, which he held out for the substitute. “Peace offering?”

Argentina set down her pen and pulled her water bottle out of her backpack. She gulped down a few swigs of blueberry tea and grimaced as it went down in all of its lukewarm glory. She glanced down at her work, swirling with half-smudged pen marks.

What else happened that day?

One of the girls to Argentina’s left giggled as she wrote a line down on a page and promptly ripped it out of her notebook. She threw it and giggled when it made contact with her target’s head, who promptly whipped his head around in confusion.

I wonder if Samhain is doing alright… wait… Argentina flipped through her notebook, returning to the letter she had drafted for Samhain. Crap! I forgot to find the return address! I’m an idiot!

“Is everything alright back there?” Her teacher glanced up from his desk. The group of girls a few desks away from Argentina had erupted in laughter, and the rest of the students glared up from their notebooks.

“Yes, sir. Everything is just fine back here.” The thrower brushed her loose blonde hair behind her ears and picked up her notebook. She flipped it to a blank page and held it up for the teacher to see. “Look! I have half of my story done already!”

“Then I expect you to shut up and get back to work, or I’ll put a request into the office and your friends will be relegated to different hours.”

“Yes, sir.”

She whispered a few haughty words to her friends, and the remainder of the students retreated their cold stares and returned to their work. Argentina tapped her pen on the page a few times before the motion devolved into a small trembling patter on the corner of the page.

“Psst, Argentina...”

She looked up from her notebook to find the blonde leaning behind the last row of desks, batting her eyes towards Argentina.

“What do you want, Selene?”

“Where’s Samhain? She doesn’t seem like the type to skip school.” She rubbed her eyes before grasping the metal rail of one of the desks, allowing her to lean further backwards. “You’d probably know, since she’s your girlfriend.”

Argentina immediately scooted back. Her arms flailed as she tried to shove her stuff back into her backpack, but as the pages just crumpled a bit, she froze- girlfriend?

“What’s the matter?” Selene asked, chuckling at Argentina’s panicking.

“I- I don’t have a girlfriend.” A dot of sweat slid down the brunette’s back, and she plastered a wide smile onto her face as her limbs calmed a bit. She slid the notebook gently into the back of her backpack. “Samhain’s just my friend. No romantic attachment.”

“Oh...” The blonde rolled her eyes. “Silly me. You two always seemed like you were together. But anyways, do you know where Samhain is?”

“She’s… at a doctor’s appointment. She’ll be there for the whole day, I presume. I don’t know for sure. I’m sorry.”

“Alright. Fair enough.” Selene turned back to her friends and continued chatting under their breaths.

Argentina slipped her pen back into her purse a few seconds before the bell rang. She exited the classroom, immediately melding into the stream of students passing up and down the stairway. As her feet tromped down the steps, she wondered to herself- what kind of a persona am I putting forth if the student body so casually assumes that Samhain’s my girlfriend?

11

MONDAY, DAY 4

Welcome back to KI-93, Soona Bris’ favorite radio station. Today’s top story is the recent surge of missing children in the thirteen to seventeen age bracket. According to several previously-classified police reports that were leaked yesterday evening, the majority of the cases listed involved vagabond teenagers heading upstate. Can you elaborate on that for us, Rena?

“Rena...” Samhain’s mother snorted, increasing her grip on the steering wheel. “What a doozy of a name. I hope you’re happy for all those lunches you trashed in elementary school, Rena Matthewson. You’ve ruined an entire name for me.”

I definitely can, Will. We've managed to secure interviews with some of the recaptured runaways, and it appears that the majority of them are doing it for reasons other than just screwing around with authorities and otherwise being a drain on the system. Among the top reasons given for their attempted disappearances were a need to escape perceived abuse in the family unit, stress over not meeting graduation requirements at school, or escaping persecution for petty crimes. But this leaves the question: why up north? In upstate Minnesota-

The radio died down as Samhain’s mother pulled into the parking lot of the Institute. She lingered in her vehicle for a few seconds, watching the courtyard- Did they add more flowers? And how does that grass stay so weed free?

She opened her van door and stepped out onto the concrete, stepping onto the concrete. Locking the door behind her, Marsha strode through the courtyard and to the glass doors- but her finger hadn't gotten to touch the touchscreen doorbell before one of the employees opened the door from the inside and greeted her.

“Hello! How are you today?”

The woman flashed a blindingly bright smile at Marsha and extended her arm. She was a blonde-haired girl much younger than Marsha Havstrom, who guessed her to be directly out of college and one of the few lucky ones who didn't have to suffer through student loans before finding a career.

The mother gingerly shook the offered hand. “I’m fine, thank you. I really don’t have much time-”

The woman gestured behind her, cutting Marsha off. “Why don't you come inside? We’ll be right with you in a moment.”

“What’s your name, miss?”

She was flustered for a moment before clearing her throat and answering with a light British lilt. “I’m Lainey, ma’am. I don't believe that we’ve met before. Shall I take you to the office?”

“You might as well.”

Marsha sighed as she stepped inside, following Lainey down the hallway into the same office room in which she had abandoned Samhain a few days prior.

Marsha situated herself in the same seat as before as the walkie-talkie on Lainey’s belt buzzed. She held it up to her ear for a few seconds before turning to the open office door. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, she breathed, “Anders will be with you shortly. Please wait patiently.”

“Why are you leaving, then?”

“I have to check on an artificial organism that is growing upstairs. It’s very confidential. If you’ll excuse me...”

Lainey abruptly departed, slamming the door behind her. Marsha, bored, scanned every little fissure of paint on the ceiling until a frustrated Anders came strolling in with her daughter in tow.

Marsha sat up immediately as the two took their respective seats. Samhain kept her face turned away from her mother, breathing heavily at the wall.

“So how is my daughter?” her mother said.

“Well...” Anders nudged Samhain, and she flinched away from him and fell off of her chair. She merely whimpered as she climbed back onto the seat. “She’s not in the best mental mood right now. I would advise not sending her to school for the remainder of the day at the very least. The week might be a bit better.”

Samhain tucked her sweaty hands into her armpits and shivered as Marsha further inquired, “and how has she been for you?”

Anders bit his lip before replying, “I’d prefer not to talk about it.” He leaned over and pulled the folder sitting at his feet onto the table, opening it and laying out the contents on the table. “As you can see, we did quite a few tests on your daughter over the weekend. I’ve got a packed day today, so I can’t go into detail about every single thing that my team found and instead leave that for you to go over at your leisure. In a few days, we’ll hopefully be scheduling the first session over the phone.”

“Thank you, Anders.” Marsha scooped up the papers nice and neat and tucked them back into the folder, which she slid into her purse. Looking back up, she noticed that Samhain’s pupils had contracted, her gaze fixed to the floor. “Samhain?”

“Yes, mother?” she responded in a cold and detached tone.

“It’s time to go home.”

“Yes, mother.”

Samhain kept her arms crossed as she departed from the room with Marsha, keeping her eyes turned to the floor the whole time. Anders waved before closing the office door shut behind them, but none of the other employees acknowledged them as they left the building.

As they were passing by the water fountain outside of the building, Samhain stumbled forward and flailed, yanking on her mother’s sleeve in the process.

“Goodness, what’s gotten into you?” Marsha stepped back and tugged her sleeve back into its proper place, tittering at the stretched patch of fabric.

Samhain shook her head, making a zipping motion at her lips.

Marsha’s eyebrows furrowed. “Samhain...”

Samhain silently repeated the motion and pulled on the sleeve, urging her mother towards the van. Helpless to her daughter’s whims, she allowed herself to be led to her van and entered as her daughter did.

She laid her hands on the steering wheel, ignition keys in hand. “Samhain... what’s wrong?”

The girl was unable to reply for a few minutes and instead chose to stare off into space. Her mother, instead of sitting there like a fool, started the ignition and began driving. The van had just barely crossed the property gates one winding driveway later and boarded onto the highway before Samhain cleared her throat to speak.

“Nothing, mother. Everything is fine.”

“Clearly something happened. You’re not in trouble. I just want to know.”

“I don't want to talk about it.” Samhain turned her gaze to the purple and pink sunrises still looming in the edges of the morning sky. “Please, mom.”

“Okay, then, I won't inquire you about the whole visit. But please tell me something? Lucia’s been worrying about you all weekend. So has Argentina.”

Shame rolled over Samhain, and she blushed before mumbling, “There were these sleeping pods a few feet longer than I am tall. They've got a padded seat inside where you lay down wearing this special set of blue clothes- something about stimulating the nerves- and then the hatch closes. All of these different moistures spray over you-” she waved her hands- “and you experience the sensation that you're drowning underwater for a few seconds, and then the dream starts. Anders said that you could choose the dream that you experience, but I haven't figured out how to do that yet.”

“Maybe that’s for the best.” Marsha’s eyes flickered to the lane beside her. A car swerved violently beside her, and she laid heavily on the horn before speeding up to avoid it. “Anything else?”

“No.”

Samhain returned to observing the sky. Marsha persisted in begging her daughter for some information- anything, really, since Anders had been so vague upon their departure- but it was in vain.

12

MONDAY, DAY 4

School had been out for quite a few hours before Argentina came striding through Samhain’s bedroom door with her key in her hand and her backpack in the other. Plopping the sack at the foot of Samhain’s bed, the girl took a seat next to her friend, catching her attention.

Samhain shut the book that her eyes had been buried in and placed it on the side table, filled with a mess of papers and charging cords for her various electronics. “What are you doing here, Argentina? It’s Monday. You don't have sleepovers on school nights.”

“My parents are away for an important meeting, so I’m going to be sleeping at your house tonight.” Argentina tucked her loose hair behind her ears and crossed her legs. “I already had dinner already, so you don't have to feed me...” With a wink, she added, “Unless you want to.”

“I already ate. I wasn't going to feed you anyways, ya nasty.”

Argentina playfully slapped the shoulder of Samhain, who grinned and giggled behind her hands. Once the room had fallen silent again, Argentina said, “I guess we better get started with the homework.”

“That would be good.”

Argentina retrieved her backpack and retrieved the blue English folder, pulling out a few pink papers and handing them to Samhain. “We have the Pride and Prejudice final on Thursday. A few of the seniors took it early, and one of them almost died. Don’t end up being a repeat of that kid.”

“I...” Samhain took the papers. Lists of characters, locations, and major events littered as much of the surface as could fit. “I’ll try. No promises, though.”

“I kinda figured.” Argentina reached back and grabbed her book, tossing it onto the bed. “We might as well begin.”

***

A good half of an hour passed by in hushed whispers and fingers passed over the almost never-ending lists of things to study. Every few minutes, Lucia would knock on the door, seeking Argentina’s attention to complain about the loss of the baseball game on the previous Friday- but no audience was granted to her, and she sulked back upstairs after a few more attempts.

Samhain’s watch beeped at precisely 7:00 PM, startling the both of them from their respective worksheets. For a few seconds, they simply stared at each other until Argentina sneezed and glanced down at her lap.

“Samhain?” she murmured from behind her elbow.

“Yes, Argentina?”

“What happened at the Institute? You seem a little off.”

Samhain’s throat lurched, and she immediately dove for her water bottle beside the bed. She gulped down a few mouthfuls of water before returning it and coughing into her elbow.

“I’m not sure how much of it was real.”

Argentina looked up at the coughing Samhain through her thick eyelashes. “Well, what do you think happened?”

“Well...for starters, I was incredibly rude to the administrator.” She blushed and put her hands in her lap, pushing down on the bed. “I would apologize to him, but I hope that I don't go back there ever again.”

Argentina’s eyes fluttered. “Why? You’re getting treatment there, right? Why would you forgo that?”

“If by ‘treatment’ you mean ‘being sedated so that strangers could mess with my body without permission or interference’, then yes, I was getting plenty of treatment. Half of them didn't even look like they knew quite what they were doing. I’d rather take my chances with the last doctor that I went to since he didn’t hide- freaks- in his building-”

Argentina’s eyebrows wrinkled. “What in the world are you talking about?”

Samhain seized her pillow and smothered her face with it, screaming into the middle for a few seconds. When she was done, she removed it from her face and tossed it back into its former place.

“Sorry. But there was this twisted creature with long white limbs, like in a low-budget alien film.” She held her arms out, emulating its awkward stature. “I saw it on the tour- the administrator was pretty freaked out and wanted to pretend that that never happened. I snuck up there to the second floor yesterday, and as soon as I stepped off of the staircase- it’s like my entire body started tingling. None of the doors were locked, so I peeked inside of them- and there were organs pink and squishy floating in little tanks, and young girls with dirty angel wings, and this scaly kid named Samus who seemed really nice but also really off at the same time. And-”

“Stop.” Argentina held her hand out in front of her, halting Samhain. She leaned back and wiped her forehead with the bottom of her shirt. Realizing that she’d accidentally flashed the bottom of her bra to Samhain, she quickly smoothened the shirt out and crossed her arms, visibly flustered. “Samhain, you’ve gone completely insane.”

“But I’m not!” She waved her arms. “The last room I saw, there was a- a huge tank just sitting in the middle of it. And there was this figure inside, like someone had skinned a human being and removed most of the organs. It- it was horrible.”

“Are you sure that you weren't hallucinating?”

“I...” Samhain slumped forward. “No, Argentina. I’m one hundred percent positive that I was completely sane, because there was this hawkish woman who busted me, and she acknowledged the existence of everything I had seen. In fact, that’s why she was so angry- because I wasn't supposed to be there.”

Argentina was silent for a few seconds, and then she laid her hands on Samhain’s shoulders and pulled her closer.

“I’m sorry, Samhain.”

“I am, too.”

“Was there anything else that you wanted to tell me before we get back to homework? Did they find anything specifically wrong with your body?”

“...Probably. I don't know. Mom locked up the folder, and she won't let me see into it.”

“See if you can sneak it to school tomorrow.” Argentina pulled away and brought the clipboard with her homework back, straightening out the crumpled paper. “Now let’s get back to work.”

13

TUESDAY, DAY 5

The clack of keyboards faded into a monotonous droning in the background as the class worked on their projects. Every ten minutes or so, one of the more delinquent students would get up and attempt to leave the computer lab altogether, but none of them got past the hawkish teacher’s thinly veiled threat to fail them in the class and prevent their graduation from her swivel chair.

“So what are you working on, Argentina?” Samhain leaned to her right, peering at Argentina’s work over her shoulder. “Is it, like, royalty prom or something? Why do they all look like wax statues?”

Argentina gave Samhain a sideways glance. Web Design was probably her second best class after Spanish. In contrast to the mess on Samhain’s page, which was plastered in sparkles and halfway-rendered animations, Argentina had a single image of a group of women in dresses surrounded by a tasteful border. “It’s a fashion show, you dip.”

“Well, excu-u-use me.” She spun around in her own swivel chair a few times before returning a bit dizzy to the row of computers. “They look so lifeless that they could be a bunch of overfiltered Barbie dolls with glazed donut faces.”

“You’re talking big today, aren't you?” Argentina tapped her friend’s screen, feeling the crooked smile form on her face. “You literally just embedded twenty or so dog videos and called that an entire webpage. Your tiled and poorly cropped background is atrocious, your scrollbar is broken, and the page in general just makes my eyes burn.”

“Well- ehh-” Samhain weakly waved her fists in front of her chest, inviting Argentina to fight, but her friend merely blew her off and returned her focus to her own project. Samhain gave up on the feeble display and returned her arms to her sides. “At least your layout is clean. I don't know how to do tables.”

Argentina’s eyes remained trained on the screen as she replied, “What are you talking about, Samhain? My page is a mess. There are line breaks everywhere. I’m pretty sure I’m missing half of my end tags as well. It’s just as much of a mess as I am.”

“It looks just fine. And you look finer, I’m afraid.”

...Is she flirting with me?

Argentina nervously scratched her head. She accidentally made eye contact with her friend and immediately turned away, feeling a blush and a worried expression creeping through her immaculate makeup job.

Dammit, Samhain.

Sensing that her friend was embarrassed, Samhain retrieved a folder from her backpack- a rich maroon color with her name printed in the upper right hand corner- and moved the keyboard to lay out the folder in front of her.

“Remember late last night when I was climbing back into bed and accidentally woke you up?”

“Wha-” Argentina spun around. Her eyes lit up when she saw the folder. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“This is the folder Anders gave my mother. Well, here goes nothing-”

Samhain transferred the folder to her lap and took a deep breath before throwing the front open. As the folder slid out of her grasp, her hands flew to her mouth, suppressing a startled shriek.

“What...”

Argentina glanced at the papers that Samhain had recoiled from and was instantly repulsed. The top sheet on the stack contained a heavily detailed anatomical diagram of Samhain’s upper chest- organs and breasts and branching veins laid out for all who dared to turn their attention to the two girls... and a few students distracted by the whole debacle did in fact turn their heads to try to see, but they quickly gave up upon their phones beeping with the latest piece of trashy gossip from a few classrooms over.

Argentina rubbed her eyes as Samhain attempted to scoop up the files with her eyes diverted. She did a pretty good job considering the lack of vision and only crumpled up the corners of two of the papers before moving the diagram out of view.

“How in the world did you get that past your parents?”

“You clocked out relatively early at 9:00 PM. My parents left the house at around the same time, give or take a few minutes, for a concert of one of my cousins. I stayed in the bed with you for a few minutes to make sure that you were asleep before sneaking upstairs and snatching it.”

“Well, that explains why I don't remember you abandoning me.” Argentina rubbed her eyes gently, taking care not to smudge her makeup. “Hand me a few pages. We’ll try to make sense of it together.”

And tried they did, with Samhain pulling out a magnifying glass to scan the pages with and Argentina abandoning her project for a word-heavy report- but alas, the hour was spent in vain, for neither of them were any closer to understanding the report than they were without having ever read it.

“Well, that was a load of crock,” Samhain muttered to herself, packing up the folder into her backpack the minute before class dismissal. “They might have shoved every single Greek and Latin root into one word. It would have made a lot more sense than that.”

“Call me lucky, but I got the pages complaining about the ‘nuances in autoimmune disorders’.” Argentina shrugged her backpack on and stretched her legs. “Maybe your parents know this better than we do? They’ll be able to call the administrator for an explanation, at least.” Her eyebrows arched up. “You have to let me know what it is when they do. Promise?”

Samhain shook her head. “No promises.”

14

TUESDAY, DAY 5

“Frecuencia pienso que la noche es de color más rico que el día,” dijo Vincent Van Gogh, un pintor famoso. En Inglés, que significa “I often think that the night is more richly colored than the day.”

“So how’s the homework going, Samhain?”

She looked up from her tablet to where her mother was standing in front of the family calendar with a permanent marker in hand. “It’s going just fine, mom.”

“That’s good.” The mother turned her focus to the calendar, striking out a few of the month’s events that had been canceled. She turned to the next month’s page before asking, “So, did you enjoy having Argentina over last night?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

And what a blessing it was, to have seen the way the morning light hit the hair cascading over her shoulders. And the highlights that the rays draped on the sheets, scattered from the previous night-

“Are you listening?” Her mother’s eyes flickered. “I said that Lucia’s got a few games next month that overlap with that summer camp you’re going to with Argentina, so you won’t be able to watch. Is that okay?”

“That’s just fine, mom. Tell Lucia that I said sorry when she comes home from practice.”

And Argentina- oh, how spectacular she looked with her eyes closed, framing herself like a purple-splotched painting on display at one of the most expensive galleries of the world-

“You know, Samhain...” She glanced at her daughter out of the corner of her eye, her permanent marker wavering over the box for the fifteenth day. “I don’t think that there’s going to be any doctor’s visits for me to write in next month. I think he’ll be able to catch a break from us while you’re at the Institute. Doesn’t that sound great?”

Samhain shook herself from her daydream, dropping her stylus and staring down at her homework to be finished glaring on the tablet screen. A drop of sweat rolled down her back as she croaked, “What?”

“I looked through some of the pages in the folder that we brought home yesterday. Your father and I are going to be talking with Anders and discussing his findings and payment plans and the like.”

So you’re just going to refer to him as a casual friend now?

“But-”

“I know you don’t like him, but it wouldn’t make you a better person than him not to apologize for your behavior.” She scribbled a note to herself on the seventeenth to make a trip to the bank on that day. “Sorry, kiddo. Transitions are rough, I know. I’m sure that it’ll get better.”

And Argentina would be so sure of herself striding across the sidewalk in a fluttery skirt and a crop top after an afternoon spent in the city, wouldn’t she?

“Yeah... it’ll get better.”

“You sure? You look a bit spacey.”

Samhain shook her head. “I’m fine, mom.”

Her mom smiled twistedly with the corners of her mouth upturned. “Ah, puberty. You look in love, I’m afraid.”

“What- no-” Samhain covered the screen of her tablet with her arms, panicking. “I’m not in love. It’s the stress of the end of the school year getting to me. Please go back to your calendar, mom.”

Her mother sighed before turning her back to her calendar. Samhain took a deep breath before closing out of the blurb she’d written for the end-of-year quote fest and opened the most recent assignment from her Spanish teacher.

Anonymously describe one of your friends or crushes and submit it to the media library, it read. Your fellow classmates will comment below each submission who they think is being described. Please keep entries and comments school-appropriate.

Easy enough, right? Her eyes narrowed as she began to type. Ella es una estudiante bonita y muy talentoso. Yo conocí a ella hace unos años. Ella tiene pelo largo y café. Habla espanol muy inteligentemente, y- she wrote this as a joke, halfhearted and intended for deletion later- yo posiblemente tengo un agolpamiento en ella.

Her wrist twitched and brushed against the submission box- and Samhain’s eyes widened in panic as her typing vanished on the screen and was replaced with the message Your assignment has been submitted. Shocked, she stared at her screen for a few moments with a gaping mouth until her phone vibrating caught her attention instead.

Hey, Samhain, the text from Argentina read, emblazoned at the top of the lock screen. Have your parents interpreted the lab reports yet? I’m bored, and looking through that Spanish assignment gallery isn’t helping any.

Sweating, Samhain’s hands fumbled for the phone, calming down a bit once she had unlocked the screen and replied, No, not yet. Tonight, possibly.

Ay, alright. Hope you have better luck on the assignment than I did.

Sure...

She locked her phone and set it back down, returning her gaze to the assignment submitted too soon. Her classmates were going frantic in the comment section, spewing out everything from long-winded essays on the supposed subject to smatterings of text speak arguing for or against one of the graduating seniors. Their first guesses were always one of the graduating seniors- probably because they were jealous that they only had a few days of school left in comparison to their two years and two weeks and wanted to make their final days hell with seven or eight supposed romantic partners to deal with.

What the hell's been my problem recently? Her eyes scanned over the last sentence in her submission. I’m not in a position where I can jeopardize one of my only friendships by turning it into a romance. I’m not even attracted to her!

Then explain your daydreaming, Samhain.

I...

You’re walking a fine line, miss. Do you know that? Argentina’s going to see what you wrote in and know that it’s about her. How are you going to explain those words you typed, even in jest?

Exactly that. She wiped her forehead, closing her tablet and standing up to visit the bathroom. That I’m not serious and just on my period. Now shut up and let me piss in peace.

15

TUESDAY, DAY 5

All sorts of multicolored papers passed through Argentina’s palms- math worksheets, failed Chemistry assignments, English poems- and either met their demise in the recycling bin or gained entrance into the sacred folder labeled KEEP in large black letters. The bedroom was silent save the fluttering of the papers as she pulled them out of her backpack and the repetitive vibration of her phone as the group chat she was a part of embroiled itself in another debate over twelve-year-old internet stars. It was almost like a ritual meant to hypnotize- grab assignment, buzz, scan it, buzz, discard or file, buzz buzz.

“I wonder...” She held up a drawing of a bird of paradise from first trimester art up above her. The translucent feathers of tissue paper caught the light, casting hues of green and blue across her face. “What were you thinking when you stepped into school on the first day, Argentina?”

Probably just the same old things you think every year you step into school.

“Which are?”

How much you hate essays, and was there really a summer assignment, what idiotic joke the seniors are going to pull on the poor freshman-

“Ow!”

She recoiled from the light, dropping the bird (which fluttered to the floor) and drew her hands to her face. Her eyes fluttered, desperately trying to dispel the sudden loose eyelash.

“Why, you stupid-”

Her phone rang, and she reached out with the one hand not engaged in rubbing the burning eye and swiped across to answer the call. She wedged the phone in between her jaw and her shoulder.

“Hello?” she whimpered.

“Hey, Argentina. How are you?” Samhain’s voice was weak on the other end of the call.

Argentina’s eyes watered, and her lips twitched in pain. She could hear a shower in the background on the other end of the call.

“I’ve got a few words for your sister and her fake eyelashes next time I see her.”

“Oh... umm...” Samhain’s end of the call rumbled. “Sorry, I’m getting dressed. Just got out of the shower. The water heater broke, so we’re trying to pass through hell frozen over as fast as possible before we have to turn the entire water off. Repair service will be here tomorrow.”

Argentina blinked a few times, sure that she’d gotten the eyelash out, before holding her phone properly to her ear with a perfectly manicured hand.

“That sucks. Have your parents figured out the files yet?”

“That’s what I was calling you about.” She sighed. “They were talking to the administrator a few hours ago. I hid in the bathroom upstairs that they were renovating while they discussed everything.”

“So... what did they find?”

“Argentina-” she coughed a wet cough- “there’s this tumor in my brain. It’s been growing for the past few months, but it escaped detection until now. I don't feel any differently, but it’s there on one of the diagrams that we skipped. The guy who runs the place- Anders Shew, I don't know whether I told you his name already or not, I can't remember- wants to take care of that first before he works on fighting my autoimmune disorder.”

Argentina closed her eyes. She exhaled as she wiped her forehead. “How long’s the healing time? Or time spent there, anyways? I would imagine that recovering from having your head cut open would put you out of business for at least until the end of the school year.”

“Well, he and my parents decided that I’m going to basically live there for the next few months while I receive treatment for everything. I’d have to do school online when not drugged up and be under supervision the entire time while using a heavily filtered computer.” Her throat gurgled in some sort of a sick laugh. “It’ll be like 1984. Or the church sleepover from last year. Take your pick.”

A heavy silence passed in the next seconds, and both of the girls listened to each other breathe- Argentina’s like a slow and steady treading, Samhain’s quick and pulsing almost to the point of hyperventilation.

When Argentina had had enough of the pause, she moved herself to her bed, where she reclined into the pillows.

“I’m sorry, Samhain. I’ll be there for you at the end of it. Maybe we can find a way to hijack the school messaging and pass some information through that way? Surely they’d bank on students using far more private ways and not monitor that.”

“That’s be nice.” Samhain choked on a few sobs, and Argentina cringed at the unexpected sound from her friend. “But Argentina- oh, dear sweet Argentina, I’m so afra-a-aid-” she stuttered at this moment, stumbling on her constricted airways. “I don't want to die alone in surgery, unfeeling and unknowing. I don't want to die alone, period, but on that horrid metal table!” She shuddered, and her voice wavered as she pleaded, “Please, Argentina, anything but that!”

“Samhain, you’re not going to die in surgery, I promise-”

“But you can't promise that!” She howled, and Argentina flinched away from her phone, only returning it to her ear once the horrid sound had subsided. “They’re going to cut open my head and take out parts of my brain, and if that doesn't kill me outright, then they’re going to suck out all of my memories- which is as good as dying, anyways- and I’m going to live out the rest of my days in the second floor with the rest of the freaks! And then-” her hysterics crescendoed- “they're going to tell my family I died so that they won't come looking for me. What then, Argentina?”

“I...”

Words failed Argentina then, and she spent a few precious seconds overthinking about the next words to say before continuing, “What do you need me to do?”

“I- I, haha...” She sniffled. “I kind of want to run away. That’d be a great trick, don't you think? You can pull out all those guides you gathered for that essay last trimester about how to disappear without a trace, and I’ll go die on my own terms in the middle of nowhere. You can bury my body in a lake and fake a kidnapping to return home scot-free-”

“Stop,” Argentina pleaded into her phone... a bit more forceful than she intended, perhaps, for it just sent Samhain into more sniffles on the other side of the line. “What’s gotten into you? You’re not the theatrical kind. And anyways, we’re not making any final plans until we discuss this in person in Web Design tomorrow. We’ll have all the time in the world then. God knows that none of the clocks work in that room anyways.”

“But Argentina, there’s no time. I have to pack my bags tonight. Mom’s dropping me off first thing tomorrow, and everything is provided there, so there’s no allowance for visitors. Not even Mom herself.” She blew her nose, and Argentina grimaced at the sound. “And don't go offering your house to me. The police would turn us over in no time, and your family would get in serious legal trouble. I’m not willing to do that to you.”

“Are you absolutely sure that you want to do this, Samhain? Because either way, no matter how far we get, we’re both going to be in some serious legal trouble if we get caught. Maybe I should say when we get caught, because there’s no turning back once your parents file that missing persons report.”

“I want to be free, Argentina.”

“But are you sure that you want to commit to this?”

Samhain’s end of the call crackled. She took a deep breath, holding it for a few minutes before answering, “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Well...”

Argentina glanced out of the corner of her eye at the calendar hanging on her wall. A stray reminder of a promise made last summer fluttered into her head.

“Samhain, there’s this place up north that I’ve been planning to visit for some time now. Seeing as I’m possibly facing a good amount of my youth spent behind bars, we might as well head there first. Pack your bags.”

16

TUESDAY, DAY 5

“Lucia!” Samhain knocked on her sister’s door with a trembling fist. Due to it being late at night, the hallway was darkened, casting a shadow behind Samhain that stretched into the bathroom. “Your bedroom light’s on! I know you’re in there!”

The sheets- or something else that could produce a crinkly sound to that effect- wrinkled as the girl inside sat to attention.

“What do you want, Samhain? I’m busy doing homework.”

“I need to talk to you. It’s urgent. I only have a few minutes.”

“Urgent, oh?”

Lucia unlocked the door. Standing in the doorway, she eyed her sister- the rolling suitcase at her side, the long clothes very much not adapted for summer weather, the hair still wet from the shower taken a few hours before.

“What do you ne-”

Her words cut off when Samhain’s face contorted. She teared up and, not a moment later, immediately wrapped her arms around Lucia. Digging her face into the older girl’s shoulder, she let out a dry sob, threatening more tears to stain her sweatshirt.

Lucia, taken aback, stood in silence in the doorway for a short delay before returning the hug, gently slipping her arms around Samhain’s body.

“Samhain, what’s wrong? It’s not about the Institute, is it?”

Samhain nodded as much as she could with her face still embedded in her sister’s arm. She suddenly jerked away and clutched the handle of her suitcase, wheeling it into her sister’s room. The bed bounced a bit when she took her seat at the far end.

Lucia’s eyebrows wrinkled as she eyed her sister from the doorway. “I’m still confused, Samhain. I want an explanation.”

“I, um...” She crossed her legs as Lucia closed the door and sat beside her. “Lucia, I’m running away.”

Barely bemused, she snorted in a half-laugh. “Yeah, right. You? A minor?”

“You’re a minor too!”

“I’m not the one trying to run away.” Lucia leaned forward. “But please, enlighten me as to how my baby sister is going to manage to go two hours in the night time alone during the police’s summer schedule. There are more of them patrolling the streets after the stalker who showed up at the orchestra concert a few months ago, remember?”

“I’m going to be with Argentina-”

Lucia snorted, falling back onto her bed and dissolving into a fit of guffawing. Her chest heaved as she released a few rich peals of laughter. “Surely you jest, dear Samhain!”

“I’m not joking.” The younger girl stood up. “Argentina and I are going to run away tonight and make it look like it was a kidnapping. If it works, the police are going to be all over this place, so I’m telling you just in case you have something... illegal you need to hide elsewhere.” Her eyes darted around the room, lingering for a few moments at her sister’s wooden clothes dresser before moving on. “And also so that you’ll know what actually happened to us two in case our plan works, but I assume that’ll be less important to you.”

“Wait...” Lucia pulled herself to a sitting position, looking her sister in the eye. “Are you being serious? Because it’s doomed to fail. Where are you going to get food? What will you do during the lengthening days that won’t get you caught by the police? Because they’re going to be looking everywhere, Samhain.”

She clenched the handle of the suitcase in her hands. “I haven’t figured that out yet.”

“Of course you haven’t.”

A creak from the parents’ room right next to Lucia’s filtered into the space. Samhain jerked her glance in that direction immediately upon hearing it and not a moment later was dashing down the steps. Lucia yelled for Samhain to wait as she slipped through the front doorway with her suitcase trailing behind her, but the younger girl took no heed as she shut the door behind her.

Samhain suddenly fell to her knees, holding one hand out in front of her to shield her eyes from the blinding light outside. Argentina, noticing her friend, dimmed the headlights and motioned for her to enter the vehicle once her vision had cleared.

“Ready?” Argentina impatiently breathed. Her fingers tapped on the steering wheel as Samhain settled herself in the shotgun seat beside her and slipped her suitcase behind their seats.

“Yeah-” Samhain took a double take at the seats behind her- or, rather, the lack of seats and the three suitcases and a cooler in their place. “Why so much luggage?”

She put the car into reverse and backed out of her friend’s driveway. “There are far more than clothes packed in there. It takes a lot to become independent, apparently. There’s no room for pretty clothes and frivolous objects when you’re on the run.”

***

“Argentina?”

“Yes?” They’d driven for about ten minutes and were near the border of the city, about to cross over the borders and board onto the highway. “What is it?”

“Is that a scratch on your face?”

“Wha- oh.” A long angry streak, about three inches in length, graced the right side of Argentina’s face. “I cut my face while raiding my refrigerator for food that wouldn't spoil easily. I let some of the blood drip onto the floor. I figured that it would look more like a kidnapping that way.”

Samhain twisted her hands in her lap. “Did you bring a first aid kit?”

“It’s fine, I swear.”

“I don't want it to get infected and then have to seek medical attention. That would put this whole trip to an end real quickly.”

“Fine. If you insist.”

Argentina pulled over in a parking lot a few meters away from the smaller of the neighborhood playgrounds. She put the vehicle into park before reaching behind her and retrieving the green bag full of first aid supplies.

“Here you go.” She plopped the bag into Samhain’s hands.

“Thanks.” Samhain dug around for a moment before finding the medical tape and a moist towelette, tearing open the individually wrapped package and immediately gagging on the synthetic lemon smell. “Anyways, where are we going?”

Argentina stiffened as Samhain reached over and dabbed the dried blood on her face with the cloth. Wincing every time she accidentally touched the cut itself, she found the strength in between to manage to explain, “There’s this group up north that are proclaiming that they’re angels and demons sent from the heavens to cure illnesses. I know that it’s probably just bullshit, but as long as we’re on the run, we might as well check them out.”

“Do you know where they are?”

“Not exactly.” She took a deep breath as Samhain finished wiping the wound clean. As her friend applied a strip of medical tape to her face, she continued, “But they’re called the Nova Luno. I don't think that they’d be adverse to two teenagers seeking them out.”

“So you’re banking on them giving up their location to you, even though they’d probably know full well that we could be the police posing as teenagers to find them and snuff them out.”

“I didn't say that it was a good plan- and what are you doing, leaning in like that?”

Crap. Samhain pulled away from Argentina, where she had been a few inches away from her face, and reluctantly pulled her seat belt back on. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just please don't do something like that again. It’s creepy.”

Argentina started the vehicle back up and continued their journey to the highway, which would take them farther up north and closer to the Nova Luno.

Good going, Samhain.

She stared out of the window, adamantly refusing to allow herself to make eye contact with Argentina in her embarrassed form. The sky outside, a faded combination of dark auburn and black with wispy gray undertones, almost seemed to wink as they drove through a roundabout.

If you truly have feelings for Argentina, wait until you've made them known first before trying to make a move on her, why don't you?

17

WEDNESDAY, DAY 6

The previous night, once Argentina had found a space place to park that wouldn’t violate curfew rules, was spent in the spacious back of the van. Argentina had packed a surplus of pillows and blankets in a trash bag that Samhain had failed to acknowledge when glancing at her friend’s cargo, which were quite easily spread out into a nest shape... thing.

Samhain would have liked the heating to be on, but that would have consumed almost the entire car battery in one shot. In remedy, Argentina pulled over a few more blankets from the pile and invited Samhain to cuddle close. She was very adamant that it was not, in fact, flirting... but each worried that the other was joking about willingly being in the friendzone as Argentina wrapped her arms around Samhain and they drifted off to sleep.

***

The road passed underneath them like a long winding snake with stripes of yellow. Every few minutes, Argentina tapped her fingers on the steering wheel until Samhain grew exasperated with the noise and asked her very politely to cease.

“So, Samhain,” she picked up after one too many requests to stop tapping, “I’m bored. Do you have any good stories from the Institute?”

Samhain wiped her forehead with her sleeve. “I already told you about the second floor. What else is there to tell?”

“Well, you had to sleep somewhere, right? Where’d you sleep? Did you even sleep? Your mom said you were pretty jittery right after you got home.”

“Oh...” Samhain scratched the back of her head, ruffling up the hair there. “Yeah, I slept, although being high might be an equivalent feeling- everything felt more surreal than a dream is supposed to feel.”

“Well, what did you dream?”

Samhain thought to herself for a moment before answering, “Well, I was strapped down to a metal table in one of the surgical rooms- both my ankles and wrists and around my stomach so that I couldn't wriggle off and compromise everything. There were all these wires and tubes coming down from the ceiling- like they were making me into a tree, Argentina, except that even they can't turn an animal into a plant or vice versa. All these different liquids were flowing in and out of me, and sometimes, I felt like the whole room was one living creature and that I’d been turned into another organ.” She paused, catching her breath. “You got something even crazier to top that?”

“Well...” Argentina merged into the right lane, preparing to turn off on an exit. “Last night- get this- we were dating. It was like a black and white scene out of a movie about my life. We were in St. Cloud- you know, the city I was born in- and we were taking a tour so that I could show you my childhood neighborhood. We went to an outdoors Dairy Queen, if you can believe that those are still open nowadays. And we walked down the sidewalks that I walked down as a child, and I showed you the front of my old house- but we didn't go inside because we hadn't owned the house for about a decade.”

Argentina sighed a wistful sigh, staring out at the road in front of her. “I wonder what the interior looks like now. I sure hope that they repaired the aging bathroom. Maybe the blue walls of my bedroom gave some other child a peaceful beginning...”

“Argentina?” Samhain leaned over, trying to catch the attention of her friend. “Are you okay? Do you need me to take the wheel?”

“No, I’m fine.” She straightened herself out and turned off on the exit, a long sloping right turn until the van reached the overpass. “Sorry. I just kind of miss that house.”

The two girls passed the following moments in silence, Samhain watching the cars passing by outside and Argentina focusing on the road. Every few minutes, they would flicker their attention to catch a glimpse of the billboards that dotted the highway. The farther up north that they went, Argentina had observed from previous camping trips with her family, the more pro-life billboards there were that tried to guilt trip anybody who dared to listen.

“You know,” Samhain said, breaking the silence, “I honestly wouldn't mind that date that you dreamed about. But can you change it so that we’re holding hands? Like real people dating do when they’re strolling about?”

“In your dreams.”

Argentina bristled as she tapped the radio dial. The speakers immediately flared to life, blaring out the latest in mind-numbing cheap beats until she changed the channel to the news.

“Do you think that the police are looking for us yet, Samhain?”

“I would guess so-”

“Then shush so we can listen.”

Welcome back to KI-93, Soona Bris’ favorite radio station. Today’s top story is the group of teenagers calling themselves the Nova Luno that we discussed on Monday. Skeptics across the globe who have caught onto the story adamantly deny that anything actually takes place when meeting with them, but here in KI-93’s studio, we actually have one of them here today who was willing to be interviewed. How are you today, Kevin?

I’m fine, thank you... Rena? Okay, Rena. In fact, I’m more than fine. These brilliant kids my age cured me of lung cancer that I thought was going to kill me before I could accomplish anything of worth!

Am I correct in assuming that the cancer was brought on by your smoking habit?

Indeed, and they cured me of that addiction as well! Now I’m free of cigarettes completely and back on my way to the schooling system. I’d rather worry about homework than not being capable of breathing properly.

So what happened, exactly, when you were cured?

Well, I was hiking in the woods- it was going to be the last vacation I ever took, you see- when I stumbled across a cabin in the woods with a bunch of teens. They approached me and instantly knew that I had cancer, and then they invited me inside to rest. I laid on their couch, and then zap! I was outside of my body.

And then what happened, Kevin?

Then I was in heaven. Being there, it’s nothing like you or I or anybody else imagined. Your whole body tingles for a while, and you almost feel as light as the wind- but there’s another side where I wasn’t allowed to go, and I guess that could be what we consider hell. It was dark, yes, but it was more like a city out a black and white film filled with grunge and goth-type people than a lake of fire and brimstone.

What happened while you were there in heaven?

They took me to one of their houses and told me that they’d taken out all of the cancerous cells and cured me, but that I had to wait a few minutes while I healed. I guess that I was there for a few hours, because we took a leisurely walk around the neighborhood.

Did you notice anything peculiar about the people?

They’re kind of like us- they love, they live somewhat normal lives- normal to us, like, they get jobs and fall in love and buy houses to make families in. And they laugh at our theistic religions, by the way, but they don’t care if you worship them or not. They’ll just keep going about their daily business.

18

THURSDAY, DAY 7

The Modern Wychesterian, page B2 - “The New Moon” by Rena Matthewson

Up in the vast forests of upstate Minnesota, there are many recreational activities that can be done to usher out the end of the school year for many students and to welcome in the summer season- fishing, swimming, boating, and hiking are a few. But in the past few weeks, people have been turning to a different reason to travel to the Great North... and it’s not to revisit some of the last great farms still standing.

Hidden away in one of the sprawling forests is a group of teenagers and young adults ranging in ages from fifteen to twenty-one. They inhabit an old cabin secluded from neighbors. Yesterday, I voyaged to this strange abode in search of answers as to how this group seems to have exploded their presence onto the public sphere. I came away with some very peculiar observations.

Immediately upon turning off onto the road which their directions gave me, I was accosted by three soft-faced guards with no weapons other than standard switchblades, which were kept in their pockets as they interrogated me as to who I was and why I was there. Even though they would like as many people as possible to visit them, they are still incredibly reclusive and don’t want floods of visitors crashing down on their gates.

After I was approved to venture beyond, the guards waved a goodbye for the moment, and I drove for approximately half a mile until finally arriving at the cabin. My first impression was that an old man must have lived there for all the wear and tear and disrepair that the exterior showed. The paint was chipped and peeling, and the shed by the cabin looked like a colony of spiders had conquered the place and created a country inside.

However, the inside was much more cheerful. I removed my dirt-encrusted hiking shoes at the front door, and one of the Nova Luno picked them up and carried them off for cleaning. Two members ushered me into the living room, where they gestured to a red couch that, although clearly being quite old, was still in usable shape.

“Hello,” a girl with long black curly hair greeted me once I had made myself comfortable. “You are the reporter who will shed light on our new moon, no?”

“That would be me, I assume,” I answered, taking out my notepad and a pen so that I could record my surroundings. The Nova Luno are pretty free-going people, but they explicitly ban the usage of electronics around them.

She clapped her hands together, parking herself on a stool. Her shining eyes particularly caught my attention- they weren’t glassy as to reflect the kitchen light, but they shone nonetheless with an otherworldly air.

“That’s wonderful! What would you like to know?”

“Well, I’ve interviewed several people who have come back from the programs of this group. They all describe a similar religious experience of going to heaven and taking a tour before being cured of whatever physical ailment they had, usually cancer. Can you please elaborate on that?”

“Certainly!” She called over a few boys, who sat at her lap and nodded every few minutes at the words that spilled out of her mouth. “Well, you know all the theistic religions here on this planet, how they’re always trying to explain heaven and hell and what happens to you after you die?” She wiped her forehead, still glowing with pure eagerness. “There is a heaven and hell, and we’re from it. But people don’t go there when they die- no, they reincarnate without their memories. It’s all a very complicated process which I’d have to go at in length to explain, which I don’t feel like doing right now. We-” and she gestured to the people sitting at her feet, still staring up at her- “are sent down from heaven and hell, which we call Altaris and Gehenna.”

“Why were you sent down, though?” I interrupted, sensing that she was about to go off on a tangent. “And many people have made claims before of having been of divine origin. What separates you from a cult?”

“The answer to both of those is simple.” She placed a palm on her forehead. “We are here to alleviate human suffering simply because we can. And we are not a cult because we do not seek for people to join our group. In fact, it is almost impossible to become a Mithrae or a Mithral- that’s what we call demons and angels- because separating a human soul from its body before its natural time requires a special license. And even then, the special cleansing ceremony- which is quite painful, by the way- requires another license. Both are extremely expensive, and we have none of either. We just want to help people.”

***

The Modern Wychesterian, page C4 - Two teenagers still missing

Local police are still on the lookout for two sixteen-year-old girls, Samhain Havstrom and Argentina St. Augustine, who were reported as missing Tuesday at 11:00 PM. Samhain was last seen wearing a yellow sweatshirt and blue jeans. Argentina was last seen wearing a gray longcoat. The local police force have not yet determined an official explanation for their disappearance, although it has been narrowed down to either a kidnapping or a voluntary attempt to run away. Any sightings of these two should be immediately reported by calling 911 or your local Missing Children hotline.

19

FRIDAY, DAY 8

If this is what it’s like to be inside the Institute, then I am full-heartedly on your side, Samhain.

There's a young white-coated man standing somewhere to my right. He can't be more than twenty, anyways- he must be straight out of high school from the stubble on his jawline and the softness in his cheeks. But his eyes- even the harshest winter back home would be warmer than what I see reflected back.

He approaches my body, and as I squirm around to be rid of the steel gray eyes, my wrists and ankles are suddenly made aware of the straps holding me down. It’s almost as if I’m some rare butterfly and those horrid eyes are a pin that’s dooming me to a half-life of display. Surely this isn't standard for surgery patients- although I am clearly not here voluntarily, and my body is perfectly healthy as is.

He hovers over my body, observing me struggle for a few sick moments before he pricks my arm with something. I am unable to see what it is, being that he pushes my head to the other side directly after my veins begin to freeze and lock up. I can feel the sweat from his palm on the back of my neck, and the blank wall in front of my eyes offers no answers. Not that I expected it to, anyways- it’s just a wall, after all.

“What-” I manage to squeak out as he backs away. A few metallic clinks sound from behind me, and I whip my head around (as much as it can move in my state, anyways) to find that he’s gathered a few sterilized scalpels in his hands, glinting in the light.

A cross, twisted smile is plastered across his face. “It’s been nice knowing you, AT-679. But the papers for organ harvesting were signed this morning, so our time grows short.”

“Organ harves-”

He cuts me off with a single finger. “So your ears are working perfectly well. You may lose the use of them after a few minutes, however.” He steps forward, and only a faint tugging reaches my brain as the blade tears through my chest-

The tips of a sizable chunk of hair slithered into Argentina’s mouth. She coughed viciously for a few seconds, scrambling away from where she had slept as far as she could before she slammed her head on the roof of the van and fully woke up. There was no horrid performance from one of the many cheap young adult novels of the day being acted out with her in the starring role, only Samhain’s sleeping body, the pile of pillows and blankets in the back of her van, and her- and the top of her head was an epicenter of pulsating pain.

She winced and rubbed the spot that she'd slammed before studying her surroundings with a mild sense of confusion. The previous day, they’d picked up a woman named LaJean- a stranger- who’d flagged them down on the rural road they’d been traveling on. She’d explained her situation- she was also seeking the Nova Luno- and prepaid $150 for the ride before packing up her tent and loading the compacted bag into the back of the van. Argentina hadn’t given a yes or no, but she had shrugged and allowed LaJean to pull one of the middle row seats out from its compartment in the floor and make herself comfortable before continuing the drive further north. At sunset, Argentina had pulled off onto a forest access road meant for those who took care of the trees- standing in neat rows for as far as the eye could see- and drove a little further down before parking the van for the night at the crude concrete lot beside the lake. But now the polite hitchhiker’s tent on the other side of the concrete had completely disappeared, and in addition, LaJean was nowhere to be seen.

Argentina kneeled over to rejoin Samhain’s sleeping body in the nest when the glint of coins in the front caught her eye. Carefully stepping over her suitcases, she climbed up to the front, where she noticed a hastily written letter with a handful of quarters laid across the top.

Dear Argentina and Samhain, I’m so dreadfully sorry that our trip together was cut short. There were some extenuating circumstances that I had to take care of, and thus I had to abandon you. Please take this handful of change as an apology, and maybe we’ll meet again when we find the Nova Luno. -LaJean Stratsford

Argentina released the letter, not waiting for it to flutter onto the ground before nervously pulling her suitcases to the front. She feverishly undid the hours spent packing each suitcase in a few minutes, clothes flying everywhere until they were sheepishly reclaimed again. Amazingly enough, even when she’d rustled the contents quite loudly and muttered to herself that nothing had been stolen, Samhain still stayed tranquil and asleep in the back.

“Well, that was certainly an experience,” she murmured to herself after zipping the last suitcase back up. She deposited the rest of them back into their original places in the back of the vehicle beside the seat that was still pulled up from yesterday. Argentina climbed out of the driver’s seat, ready to rejoin Samhain- but a snapping of twigs echoing from her right made her freeze in place. Her heart only quickened, however, beating in furious motion.

Standing about thirty feet away from the vehicle, almost blending in with the treeline bordering the parking lot, was a figure who looked almost like they’d read a textbook about how to appear inconspicuous and followed it to a T- they’d donned a gray sweatshirt and covered their face with the hood and gotten a pair of sweatpants to match. Never mind that it was the beginning of summer and temperatures were beginning to reach eighty degrees- they’d probably roast half to death if they stood in that same exact spot in a few hours.

The person took a few steps forward. As they approached the vehicle, Argentina pulled her main suitcase back up with her to the driver’s seat and began frantically digging around- nope, underwear, nope, toiletries, nope, lotion- until her fingers gratefully clamped around the Swiss Army knife that she’d stashed.

Argentina looked up from her suitcase to be met with the stranger right outside the passenger side window- and she would have jumped and smacked her head on the van roof a second time had it not been for the suitcase still weighing down on her lap. Rolling down the passenger window the slightest bit so that she could hear the stranger, she nervously asked, “Who are you?”

They held their hands out, palms empty. “Relax. I’m a friend.”

“Yes, because friends sneak up on random vehicles in the middle of nowhere looking like they’re about to rob someone.”

“I’m not going to rob you.” They pointed to Argentina’s car keys, hanging from a lanyard on her neck. “If I wanted to, I’d have approached from the other side to make it easier to swipe your keys. I think I'd also have a gun. That makes hijackings so much easier- not that I would have any firsthand experience.”

“I still don’t trust you. Who are you? What do you want? Why shouldn’t I call 911 right now?”

“Because then that would give you away to the police, and then your friend snoozing away in the back would be sent back to the Institute.” Observing Argentina’s shudders at having been recognized, the stranger held their hands out a second time. “Your story is everywhere. The news ran a segment about you two just a few hours ago. There was a blurb about you in the newspaper yesterday- short, but it had your pictures in it. You might want to be a bit more careful about where you go out for breakfast next time since a handful of people spotted you and reported your appearance to the authorities.”

Trembling in her seat, Argentina said, “I’ll ask the question again. What do you want?”

“I came to give you a present. It might help you a bit since they got your license plate numbers.” The stranger retrieved a wad from their pocket- what it was, Argentina couldn’t see- and held it out to the van. “Mind rolling down the window a bit?”

Argentina, apprehensive, hesitated a moment before shoving the suitcase to the back. With her knife visible in her hand, she rolled the window down a few more inches, allowing the stranger to reach their hand in and deposit- was that three hundred dollars now lying on the passenger seat?

“Your parents were on the news.” The stranger retracted their hand, resting it in the now empty pocket. “They looked awfully distraught. A bit confused as well. The Nova Luno are also talking of moving their operations elsewhere in a few days, so you might want to pick up the pace a bit.”

Argentina, trying not to betray her nerves, gathered the cash and piled it on top of the quarters on the central console, not daring to give away the location of her stash of money. “How do you know that?”

Instead of answering, the stranger began walking backwards, which soon devolved into a moonwalk and a disco dance across the parking lot.

What the hell?

Once they’d safely reached the cover of the trees, though, the stranger took off running. Argentina shook her head and rubbed her furrowed eyebrows, but by the time that her vision cleared up, the person had completely disappeared from sight.

Samhain yawned and stretched her arms out, diverting Argentina’s attention from the donor who’d danced. “Good morning. Where-” she flailed her arms in front of her- “where’d you go?”

“I’m in the driver’s seat. Some random person came and gave us three hundred bucks.” She opened the glove box and retrieved her wallet, stashing the crumpled bills and coins inside. “I know that this’ll sound weird, but I need you to stay hidden in the back today instead of sitting up here by me.”

Samhain groggily pulled herself up, sitting cross-legged amid the tossed sheets. A few stray curled locks of hair fell into her eyes. “M-may I ask why?”

“Because if a random person just wandering around in the middle of nowhere can recognize us together, then someone with wandering eyes that we pass on the road definitely could. People are looking for us as a pair, not alone. Nobody cares about a solitary teenager.”

Samhain scoffed before pulling the suitcases around her. She’d arranged them in a rough rectangle around her body before Argentina started the van up. She slid back into the nest of sheets, watching the windows from the unstable back as the van pulled out of the parking lot.

Only one more day of driving left.

20

FRIDAY, DAY 8

The seconds on Samhain's watch ticked away as she slowly perused the book she’d dug out of her suitcase. Argentina, still driving in the front, didn't dare to interrupt her as she continued traveling down the winding roads. They’d come to the wrong part of the forest, it had turned out, and Argentina deftly guided the vehicle out of the lake-bordered region and to a different part of the forest a few miles over.

The lines of trees grew more dense the father along she drove, along with Samhain’s pleading to please return to her place in the front seats. Argentina declined every time, but once the open regions where the sheltered farms were started appearing, she pulled over and allowed Samhain back into her proper seat, pajamas and all.

***

“So, Argentina, I had the most surreal dream last night. You signed up for AP English next year, right?”

Argentina sighed. “Yes, Samhain, I made the mistake of signing up for a class with summer homework.”

“Good, so you know about the summer assignment. Well, in my dream, instead of a small book that we had to take notes on, it was a gigantic encyclopedia-” Samhain held her hands out and apart to demonstrate how thick it was, about three inches- “just chock-full of all these different comics of things from our childhood. There sections devoted to books, cartoons, toys...” her words drifted off, and she passed a hand through her messy curling hair, pushing as much as she could behind her ears. “Heck, there was even a section for Christian propaganda. And I mean propaganda- like, Chick tracts and Adventures in Odyssey episodes.”

Argentina glanced over at her friend, whose eyes were shining behind the hair that had fallen down again- not that it covered much, seeing as it was a pixie cut messed up, after all.

“Samhain, are you on drugs or something?”

“Just sleep deprivation.”

Samhain laid her hands in her lap, averting her gaze to her window for a second before abashedly returning it to Argentina’s face.

“You know, Argentina, you look really different without makeup on.”

“I’m the same person; I’m still your friend.”

“I know, I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I just meant different-” Samhain’s hands flew to her own face, hiding the blush creeping into her cheeks. “You know, Argentina, I’ve been having feelings for you recently.”

Argentina’s eyes fluttered open wide. She slammed on the brakes, throwing Samhain forward until her seatbelt locked and caught her. Argentina’s chest heaved, trying to catch her breath until she gave up and jerked the van into park.

“Argentina-”

Samhain leaned over to catch the wrist of her friend, and she did- for a moment, anyway. Argentina wrenched her wrist away and dashed to the other side of the road, kneeling over in the grass and releasing a shriek that would have spooked the cows of the neighboring farm had they been out at field.

“Argentina?” Samhain undid her seatbelt, and as if her chest was thanking her for releasing it from the constraints of the seatbelt, her breathing deepened. She climbed over the center console into Argentina’s seat and rolled down the window. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah... I just...” Argentina laid a hand on the white-painted fence of the front yard of the farm and pushed herself up. She very sheepishly returned to the van, and Samhain moved back into her own seat. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what that was all about.”

Embarrassed, Samhain hid her face in the sleeves of her pajama shirt as Argentina shifted the van back into drive.

“It was just a statement-”

Argentina rubbed her forehead with one hand. “How long has it been, Samhain?”

She peeked out from behind the sleeves. “I beg your pardon?”

“How long have you had feelings for me?”

She searched her mind for a few seconds before replying, “I don’t know. It’s been a crazy week. I just thought you should know.”

“But-” Argentina scoffed- “who could possibly be attracted to me in this state? I haven’t properly taken care of myself in a few days, I reek a bit, and I don’t think I’ve ever been in anything that quite resembles a proper relationship.”

Samhain stared long and hard at her flustered friend. This was not the girl that she’d escaped with- the girl who hated vapid and meaningless things yet listened to popular music as her guilty pleasure. The girl who looked hip and fashionable and was quite knowledgeable about it and still retained her humanity. The girl who’d looked past the seventh grade cliques and made the effort to keep Samhain company at lunch at the dreaded Meet Someone New day.

This Argentina was quite a foreign one and yet all too familiar. This girl stayed up until midnight driving because a gut feeling in her friend expressed itself. This girl only spent six minutes in the morning working on her appearance instead of sixty and forwent a large ornate mirror in her bathroom for the tiny one in the sun visor. Her hair was either mussed and wild or greasy and lying flat against her skin, and either way, she felt disgusting.

And yet here Samhain was, proclaiming in the middle of nowhere that she’d developed feelings for her friend.

“You know what, Samhain,” Argentina said, interrupting Samhain’s reverie, “Maybe once things settle down a bit, I’ll try being your girlfriend if that’s what you want. No promises, though.”

Alright. I can live with that.” Samhain observed the road in front of them as Argentina slowed down. “Are we almost there?”

“Yes.” Argentina turned right onto a dirt road and crept for about ten feet before stopping the van. Looking around, she muttered to herself, “if that article was right and they haven’t moved, there should be guards somewhere around here.”

“Maybe it’s their day off?”

“I sure hope so.”

Argentina continued down the dirt path, encountering nobody. As the cabin came into view, they grew more and more panicky until they reached the parking lot, completely void of any other vehicles.

“Maybe we’re off a bit?” Samhain suggested, her smile shaking. “Maybe we’re super close and it was actually the next turn.”

“I sure hope so.” Argentina turned the ignition off and returned the key to the lanyard around her neck. Slipping out of the van, she directed Samhain, “Get your bag out of the van. We’re bunking here tonight.”

21

FRIDAY, DAY 8

It only took about ten minutes for the two girls to haul their suitcases and bags into the living room of the cabin and deposit them in a pile on the worn couch. Once the van was cleared, Argentina took a quick survey of the rest of the house, but only dust and a few dead flies scattered here and there inhabited the rest of the disused rooms where she had expected someone lying in wait.

The cooler, dragged out first and left outside the front door, was the last thing to be brought into the cabin. Samhain alone struggled to drag the beastly thing inside, so Argentina abandoned her sorting of the underwear she’d disorganized that morning and helped her carry it in. The refrigerator was fortunately in working order, so the two girls opened the cooler up and began the tedious task of putting away the food.

***

“No, Samhain, the jam goes in the refrigerator, not on top of it.”

“Well, excu-u-se me!” Samhain jokingly sneered. All work ceased as both of them giggled, and then the girl took the stepladder and retrieved the still-chilled jar. “Do you want the lunch meat down as well, or can that stay up top?”

“Samhain, you dunce. Of course that goes inside of the fridge.”

Argentina held her hands out, which Samhain softly placed the foodstuffs into.

“Maybe you should take a walk and clear your head,” Argentina suggested. “You’ve been cooped up in that van too long.”

Samhain stepped down and crouched beside the other girl. “Maybe you should come with me. You were in there too, you know.”

“I’m putting away the food.” She waved her hand, shooing off Samhain. “Go enjoy the nature for a few minutes. Or ten. I’ll have this all sorted by the time you come back.”

Sorry for not being helpful…

Samhain sulked away to the front porch and retrieved her shoes. She pulled them on before shutting the front door after her- almost as an afterthought, as the mosquitos still had a few weeks before they came out in full force.

The dirt path leading to the paved road was much longer than it had seemed on their way there, and from where Samhain stood right outside of the front door, it was impossible to see all the way down. It didn’t improve after she began walking.

There’s lots of nature here. Samhain shoved her hands into the pockets of her pants, continuing her meander. Like trees both half-head and living, shading from above. And also some poison ivy bordering the trail, and a few birds whistling, waiting, wondering where their friends are-

Samhain suddenly smacked her right shoulder, grimacing as the smashed and twisted corpse of a mosquito rolled off, leaving a muddled gray mark on her skin.

That isn’t very peaceful, though.

And speaking of peace- what's happening inside of my body while I walk down this path? Maybe the tumor's grown, maybe it's shrunk, maybe it was never there at all and Anders deals in forging body scans.

Almost unknowingly, her fists clenched.

Maybe it was from a former patient? I wonder if they survived. Maybe they'd be able to tell me their story so I'd know if I made a horrible mistake or not.

No.

Samhain halted in front of a pile of sticks fallen from the trees above sometime between when they'd driven down here and now.

I did the right thing in running away with Argentina. If I'm going to die, it's going to be on my own terms with the girl I love, not in some bland and sterile medical facility with nobody I love around me.

She shook her head before stepping over the pile and moving on.

And when am I going to die if we don't find the Nova Luno Argentina’s so hellbent on seeking out, anyways? In a year, perhaps, finding ways to live off of the grid? In a month, desperately hoping that none of the police track us down? Maybe it’ll be in five seconds, and I’ll die here alone on this walk and Argentina will never know because she’ll be so preoccupied with the functioning bathroom!

And what would have happened if I had chosen to go to the Institute, anyways? Maybe I would have received treatment by now, and I’d be back home enjoying summer vacation with Argentina at this very moment. Or I’d still be there slowly but surely being cured of whatever I have... or I’d be locked up in the second floor, made into a twisted freak like the rest of those I saw, presumed dead by my family and friends and never seen by the outside world again!

The faint sound of Argentina yelling Samhain’s name rang over the landscape, echoing across the trees- and Samhain stiffened for a moment- if there's anybody in earshot, we're screwed, since who else shares my name?

Turning towards it, Samhain relaxed her fists, releasing the clumps of hair she hadn't known she had been tugging on in her frustration.

A flock of birds hovered overhead, catching Samhain’s attention. With her head turned to the sky, watching the inky black blots scrawl themselves across the bleached paper of the sky, she had flashbacks of her childhood- standing on top of folding picnic chairs with a blanket stretched out over her arms. Jumping off and desperately flapping, hoping against humanity that she'd catch flight but ultimately just crashing down into the lawn with the rest of her cousins. Laughing when they took the blanket and jumped as well with the same results. She would pray for wings for a few years after that fad had passed, eventually giving up when the rest of her faith eroded away.

It only took a couple minutes to backtrack through the trail- it was awfully straightforward, anyways- and collapse on the couch by Argentina.

“Samhain?” Argentina pushed herself off of the couch, traveling to the closet by the kitchen. “You’re going to have to make your own dinner tonight.”

Samhain rubbed her eyes and yawned.

“Why?”

“Because I’m exhausted and need to sleep.” Argentina returned with a vacuum cleaner. She wheeled it over to Samhain before retreating into the bedroom that she’d also set up while Samhain was gone. “Make yourself a bit useful, please. Don't worry about the sound levels. I have earplugs.”

22

SATURDAY, DAY 9

With her eyes dilated and her mouth open like a fish... time just slowed down as Samhain keeled over and collapsed into the freshly fallen snow. Her jacket caught on the metal part of the seatbelt, twirling her on her descent until her bleeding sides were cocooned in the white fabric and leaking out onto the ground.

“Samhain!” I shrieked, bolting out of my seat in the van and yanking her away from the van, which had been shifted into park the moment before impact. A bit of her jacket tore as I dragged her a few feet away and crumpled when I desperately scrambled with my hands to free her body from the fabric confines.

“Love...” She feebly reached one bloody hand up to my face, dragging the stained fingertips across my cheek. “I- I-”

“Stop talking, dammit!”

My eyes flickered over her body, how she held her arms to her chest to try to slow the bleeding, and snatched a ripped shred from her jacket. She softly moaned as I tied the strip around her torso, hoping that maybe- just maybe-

Argentina’s head jolted forward, colliding with the soft flesh of Samhain’s neck. Catching some hair in her eyes, she jerked her body away, only realizing after the fact that her arms had been entwined around her friend’s body.

What in the world?

She sat up on the mattress and rubbed her eyes. In the dim light, she could just barely make out that Samhain’s hair was mussed and wavy, presumably from the soft fabric of the pillow that it had dried on as they had fallen asleep... together?

God, there’s such a horrid taste in my mouth... kind of like blood, except I haven’t been eating blood recently... have I? What even happened last night?

Well, for starters…

Argentina slipped off of the bed and stood in front of the old wooden carved dresser, made long ago by whoever had inhabited this cabin. A large circular mirror was embedded in the frame it had been built for, just barely exposing Argentina’s silhouette in the weak morning light beginning to filter into the room.

I wasn’t drunk or otherwise intoxicated. There was nothing in the fridge when we arrived, and I didn’t bring any booze or drugs with me other than maybe sleeping pills.

She leaned forward in the mirror, catching sight of a tender purple spot near her collarbone. Her breath caught, and her hands flew to her mouth, careful that the wet sound didn’t wake up the girl still sound asleep in the bed.

But maybe there was some kissing involved... oh god, Samhain, what did we do last night?

Argentina’s stomach lurched, and she silently quit the room, making sure to pad the door’s closing creaks with her foot. As she slipped into the kitchen, she caught a glance at her watch- it was five in the morning, and the animals were beginning to sing outside.

Well, all of our clothes are still on, if that’s any clue.

She opened the fridge, expecting there to be some magical solution to her problems wrapped and jammed into the back, but the same mismatched piles that she’d arranged the previous evening stared back at her.

Maybe I should go take a walk myself.

Argentina closed the fridge and slipped her shoes on, still convinced that Samhain was asleep. The front door made no sounds as she wandered outside, tracing the same trail that she’d thought that Samhain had taken yesterday- her footprints were still fresh in the ground, or at least as fresh as they could be after ten hours of a light breeze and whatever happened here in the middle of the night.

Nobody disturbed her on her walk under the amber sky, and the first fragments of the morning sunrise began to show through the treeline bordering the trail. The chirping of the birds grew louder the farther along she stepped, almost to the point where she had to cover her head with her hands in the off-chance that one would come after her and think that her head was the perfect nest for the breeding about to occur.

At around five-eighteen, her watch beeped, and she turned around and headed back to the cabin. The forest grew silent again, fading behind Argentina when she slipped through the front doors again and took her shoes off. Soft whispering, presumably from Samhain, filtered through the bedroom door and drew the wandering girl back in.

“Argentina?” Samhain was wide awake and sitting up straight in the bed. “Where were you? I woke up alone.”

“I was taking a walk.” Argentina brushed off her navy-blue nightgown. “I needed to clear my head...” She sat down on the edge of the bed, which wobbled a bit with her weight. “Samhain, what happened last night?”

“What do you mean?”

Argentina pulled on the collar of her dress, exposing the purple bruise. “Last I checked, I wasn’t clumsy enough to bang my collarbone into a cupboard or something similar.”

“Oh, that.” Samhain scratched the back of her head, her eyes downturned. “I don’t remember that either, but I have a similar one here-” she also tugged on the collar of her shirt- “and it’s pretty damn tender, so I recommend that you don’t touch it.”

“I’ll touch it all I want. Wait here.”

Argentina slipped off of the bed and dashed into the kitchen, mentally praising her past self for remembering to bring the ice packs. She palmed one, threw it into a towel, and brought the bundle to her friend.

“Can you stay relatively still for at least a few minutes?”

“That’s what I’ve been doing for the past six hours, I presume.” Samhain received the bundle and pressed it to the bruise, wincing a bit when she shivered. “Thanks, Argentina.”

23

SATURDAY, DAY 9

Once the sun had risen, the day was spent in lazing around the cabin- Argentina could be found reading the book that had been assigned as a summer school project in various places throughout the day, like the old and worn green couch, on one of the folding chairs on the deck in the “backyard”, and on a stool by the island in the middle of the kitchen.

Samhain, on the other hand, was missing for the vast majority of the day, wandering around the property with her phone in her hand and a heaviness in her heart. As she wandered up and down the trails branching out from the dirt road they’d traveled on, her camera roll filled up in torrents of pictures- laying her hands on anything she knew to be safe, cataloging the landscape and leaves and anything in between. What for, she didn’t know, but her eyes kept drifting to the sky as if there was something up there she was waiting for. A god, perhaps, to float down and tell her that she’d made the right decision in running away? Another flock of birds to catapult her into the past, albeit for different reasons?

***

Behind the cabin, there was a wooden deck, probably made around the same time as the crumbling structure- and the stress was showing, for what parts of it weren’t caked in moss were beginning to show decay. The majority of it was still safe to stand on, or at least the girls hoped- if one of the boards broke, it was a good twelve-foot drop to the unkempt brush lying underneath.

In the late evening, Samhain could be found sitting on the safety rail on the deck, looking out from the slope that the cabin was built on to the lake about a parking lot’s distance away. Her legs dangled over the ledge, pounding every once in a while on the ancient wood- almost like she was daring it to give way and eject her to the abandoned ground.

What’s the purpose of life? she wondered to herself, picking on a scab on her knee. The sunset on the lake reflected in her eyes, giving them a reddish-purplish hue. I mean, we’re born, we suffer a bit, and then we die and become fodder for some other life in the galaxy. She paused. I’d pity the fool who’d get stuck with my atoms.

Whoa there, Samhain, no need to get existential here in the middle of nowhere!

But in all seriousness, what’s the purpose of my life, specifically? I mean, why did my sister come out just fine and I got born with a crappy immune system? I mean, life has been great so far…

Finally picking the scab off, she flicked it to the darkening ground below, wincing as the first pinprick of blood slowly crept out of her skin.

Medicine is great, because I don’t have to spend every waking moment in fear that I’ll catch a minor illness and die.

Samhain drummed her fingers on the slight bump underneath the skin of her stomach.

Maybe my purpose in life is not having one. Maybe I’m supposed to give purpose to Argentina’s life through some far-fetched cosmic plot. Or maybe I’m just overthinking things and should just go find Argentina and thank her for dinner.

A strip of stars from the blanket of blackening sky above her came into her vision, twinkling above her as she tilted her head back and increased her grip on the safety rail.

You know, now that I think about it, Anders might have been telling the truth in all of those documents that he gave my mom. Maybe, if I had stayed, I would be receiving humane treatment right now and would be recovering from having the tumor removed from my brain. Maybe I’d be getting ready to enter my sleeping pod now, choosing to dream something sappy about Argentina.

Maybe I’m just speeding myself towards an untimely death because I’m an irrational teenager with too many resources on my hands. Maybe we made a horrible mistake. I wonder- if we go back now and plead for forgiveness, Argentina will get off scot-free and I won’t have earned too much animosity from the big guys.

Samhain yawned and stretched her back out, keeping her hands clenched tightly on the safety rail- but suddenly the blanket of stars spanned the entire sky, and in the back of Samhain’s mind, she was suddenly aware that she’d slipped and fallen backwards onto the deck.

What the hell?

Stars flew past her eyes at terrifying speed- little pinpricks of light flashing and circling around her head. She tried to lift her arm up, desperately tried, but no matter how much she pleaded with her muscles to move, they’d all hardened to stone and affixed themselves to the ground.

So this is how I die- at almost nine in the evening, I become a statue and lose all but the ability to stare up into the heavens, my eternal home!

Argentina! Argentina!

A pinprick of pain in Samhain’s back began to scream, probably a nail head that was poking out from the boards that she’d just managed to land on. Her throat throbbed, begging- pleading to be able to scream for Argentina to save her from whatever had taken over her body so quickly and efficiently.

The sensation that a hatch had opened in the back of her head made itself known, spilling out and emptying her brain of any words, leaving nothing but the blanket of endless stars in the universe to stare at. Cosmos comprised her vision, floating past in all their glory, gloating at Samhain’s inability to comprehend what was going on around her.

But the words eventually found their way back into her body, and the very moment that her muscles relaxed and softened up again, she let out an ear-splitting shriek from the base of her throat: “ARGENTINA!”

Inside the cabin, something rustled, and Samhain’s weak ears could pick up on the rustling of Argentina putting down whatever book she was currently engrossed with and pattering towards the side door of the cabin. Samhain weakly twisted her head around as Argentina opened the door- and her friend’s scowl at having been interrupted quickly dissolved into concern.

“Samhain? What happened?”

Argentina bent down, blushing at her low-cut nightgown. She scooped up the injured girl into her arms and shakily carried her to the bed in their bedroom, setting her down on top of the sheets she had smoothened out earlier in the day.

“Are you- you know what, you’re not okay. Wait here.”

Argentina quit the room and came back a few minutes later with a wet washcloth and a first-aid kit. Blotting the scrapes on Samhain’s knees with the washcloth, she asked again, “What happened outside? You look really spaced out.”

“I- I don’t know.” Samhain feebly wiggled her fingers, making sure that at least some of her muscles worked. “I think I had a seizure. I was definitely hallucinating.”

“A seizure, you say? Hold still.”

Argentina dabbed a tiny blot of antibiotic cream onto a bandage and applied it to a scrape that was flaring pink and red. Samhain winced as it stuck on- there wasn’t much else she could do, other than twitch her feet and wait for the initial sting to subside.

“That’s pretty serious, Samhain.”

“I’m starting to think that maybe this plan wasn’t such a good idea after all.”

Sensing a confrontation, Argentina finished tending to the other injuries and lightly brushed her lips against Samhain’s forehead. “We’ll talk about it in the morning, okay? Get some rest now.”

“No, Argentina.” As her friend turned to leave the room, Samhain mustered her strength and latched onto the girl’s forearm, forbidding her from leaving the room. “We’re going to discuss this now before either of us get to clock out for the night.”

“Fine.” Argentina sighed and took a seat at the foot of the bed, avoiding Samhain’s gaze. Groaning, she rubbed the spot where the nail of Samhain’s thumb had dug into her wrist. “What do you want to talk about?”

“This plan of ours to run away. It’s been great traveling with you, Argentina, but the food’s not going to last forever, and neither is the money. And honestly, I don’t think that a cult- don’t shake your head, you know that it’s a cult- is going to fix all of our problems. And say that they do manage to fix me and we go home- do you really think that our parents are just going to excuse the fact that we ran away from home?”

“This was your idea, Samhain. I was just playing along.”

“I...” Samhain’s head drooped onto her chest in guilt. “Argentina, if what just happened was a seizure, then the tumor that’s supposedly in my head is getting worse fast. And no amount of magical praying to the gods is going to fix this-”

Argentina kept her back turned away as she interjected, “Are you suggesting that we go back to Anders and ask him for help?”

“I think that’s our only option at this point. I can make all the speeches I want about wanting to die free, but at the end of the day, this is the only life that I’m certain of- and I want to protect it, and I’ll do what I must to protect it.”

Argentina sighed. “Samhain, I’ll admit, I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

“I know...” Samhain covered her eyes with her hands, choking back a few tears. “Argentina, I’m so sorry that I got you involved in all of this.”

“You don’t have to be. We’ll call our parents tomorrow and ask them for advice. But please try to get some sleep, Samhain.”

“Do you really think that I can sleep like this, Argentina?”

She paused for a moment, thinking before replying, “Good point.”

Argentina got off of the bed and helped Samhain, who had somewhat regained the use of her legs, outside onto the deck and into one of the folding chairs. She took her place beside the stumbling blonde-haired girl, who’d already lost her head in the sea of stars, and gazed out into the sky free of light pollution- if this is what heaven looked like, Argentina wanted to remain here forever.

24

SUNDAY, DAY 10

Six AM, Christmas morning. Drip, drip, drip. My password is eight-double-o-g with a capital banana...

You know, Samhain, if you had bothered to find the sleeping pills, maybe you'd be locked away in sleep like Argentina instead of suffering through stray thoughts in the middle of the night like this.

Well, I couldn't, remember? Argentina wasn't sure how they'd react with my post-seizure brain. Idiot.

Samhain rolled onto her back, ignoring the snores emanating from Argentina, who was wrapped up in her own dream to what was now her right. Her eyes wandered to Argentina's chest, slowly rising and falling every few seconds, and quickened her own breath to try to match the two rhythms.

God, I feel like a vampire, just laying here fully awake in the middle of the night.

Her eyes drifted to the ceiling, and instead of counting sheep or some other contrived way to force herself into sleep’s embrace, she mentally catalogued the room. The wooden ceiling, from the shards of light that the moon offered, were swirling with a monochromatic palette of browns and tans. Jagged cracks ran through it every few feet, threatening to break and collapse at any given moment- but they hadn't creaked once since they had arrived here.

Her attention shifted then. Owls, or some other kind of obnoxious animal, were hooting outside the window, scurrying around and starting fights with each other. They were probably just mating, Samhain rationalized, but why did they have to be so damn loud? And in the middle of the night, too?

Samhain’s mouth opened to yawn, and the room suddenly filled with light- not a brilliant light, not enough to wake Argentina, but enough to temporarily blind Samhain as she flailed her arms, trying to find its source. As her hand found a hold on the side table beside the bed, Argentina’s phone slipped off and landed face down. The light disappeared as quickly as it had manifested.

Thanks, Argentina. Samhain rubbed her eyes, trying to regain the night vision that her eyes had grown accustomed to, and leaned over the bed. Her fingers swept the dirty floor- she grimaced internally at what ancient germs could be gathering on her fingertips- until they seized around the phone and gently lifted it up.

You didn’t even bother to lock it... you could have at least bothered to turn it over.

Ashamed at her sudden burst of frustration, she swiped her finger across the screen, waking it up a second time and wincing at the bright light returning to the room. At first glance, there was nothing remarkable about the list of apps now staring back at her. But one unintended tap later, and Samhain found herself staring at a pile of words, scattered throughout the screen and making no sense at first until she squinted her eyes.

she makes me blue

and exposes a winter scene underneath my skin

half drowned and sun-soaked

bleeding to be known

You know, Samhain, you probably shouldn’t be snooping around Argentina’s phone.

Well, what else am I supposed to do at... She checked the clock, faded and tiny at the top of the screen. Three in the morning?

she makes me red

when I catch a glimpse of her eyes

blood rushes to my cheeks

there is a sunset sitting in my absence

and lay my head under the water

because only under the big blue

can I be truly free

drifting among the waves

What’s the meaning of this, Argentina?

I won’t let the water drag me down

but surely the beating in my chest will

I’ll be the clouds obscuring the sun

and you can be the lakes reflecting gray back at me

Thoroughly embarrassed, Samhain locked the phone and set it back on the side table, ashamed at peeking at what were so obviously meant to be private words. She wiped her fingers on the blankets before pressing them to her cheeks.

I’m flaming up! Maybe I’ll set fire to the bed, and that’s how I’ll die instead!

Nah, burning alive isn’t how I want to go out. Besides, that would kill Argentina as well. She rolled over, pressing herself up against Argentina as a peal of thunder rolled outside. Please don’t notice my heartbeat, please don’t notice my heartbeat...

Argentina groaned at Samhain’s touch, curling in on herself and pulling the majority of the sheets around her and away from her friend. Samhain, still shivering from the thunder, made do with the edges and tried to force herself into sleep for the umpteenth time that night.

25

SUNDAY, DAY 10

“You know, Argentina,” Samhain murmured, wiping her hands on the tablecloth underneath their legs, “you may consider yourself a weed, but you’re really the prettiest flower in the entire field.”

“Shut up and eat your sandwich, Samhain.”

A flustered Argentina covered her face with her hands, attempting to cover up her blushing cheeks. It was an unsolicited comment and the first of the day, really, being that Samhain had been silent for the entire day until then.

Argentina’s voice wavered as she added, “the only flowers here are the ones on your shirt.”

It wasn’t a false statement. Just a little ways down the dirt trail and off a right turn was a spacious field, stretching out far enough to afford anybody who looked up a view of the sky in all of its glory. Little dirty white clouds streaked across the sky in the light breeze, occasionally passing in front of the sun and dimming the expanse of grass.

“You know...” Argentina pulled one of her hands away a few seconds later, twirling the end of her braid in her fingers. It was still damp, being that she’d taken a shower a few hours prior. “When I picked you up in my van all those days ago- for you know how time stretches out here in the middle of nowhere- I never thought that I’d find myself here in such an absurd situation.”

Samhain leaned back, allowing her eyes to wander through the sky. Her body still trembled every once in a while, although whether from the lingering effects of the seizure or from sleep deprivation was unknown.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Look at this-” she gestured out in front of her- “we’re eating out in nature on a checkered tablecloth with a picnic basket we found in the cabin. It’s all so absurd- heck, we could have been from one of those old-fashioned storybooks you found in your grandma’s basement, off to a pleasant Sunday picnic with the schoolchildren. Minus the schoolchildren, of course. Please tell me you see that, at least!”

“We’re not indoctrinated to worship a daddy in the sky, though. Besides, the only thing I’m seeing up here is blue. And also blue. And maybe...” Samhain tilted her head. “Yep, more blue. But a different shade, at least. It’s a tad drab without the big puffy cumulus clouds to interpret.”

“Then come back here to lunch,” Argentina suggested. “I’m kind of brown, the grass is a paler sorts of green, and what we’re out here for is all sorts of colors.” She paused. “Why’d you put sprinkles on your sandwich, anyways?”

“I’m thinking.” Samhain returned to the food, biting down and filling her mouth.

“Thinking about what?”

She swallowed. “I thought that I saw a drone up there, watching us.”

“It’s probably just a bird.” Argentina’s eyes flickered to the sky though, unsure. “Are you okay?”

Samhain’s eyes fluttered. “I’m just fine.”

“But if you’re hallucinating again...”

Argentina's vision shimmered, and she rubbed her eyes before taking a second look at Samhain. Were- were those freckles faintly forming in a patch spanning over her nose? Kind of like little moons.

“No, Argentina, I’m telling you- this was a drone. It didn’t flutter like a bird and was taking sharp turns, like it was trying to focus on something. Probably us. We should go back to the cabin.”

“But I spent so much time preparing all of this...” Argentina whined.

“No you didn’t.” Samhain crossed her arms. “Please, Argentina. I don't feel safe out here anymore.”

“Fine.”

Argentina stood up, helping her friend roll up the tablecloth and stuff it back into the basket. They walked back to the trail, one hand in the other’s and the other holding the unfinished sandwiches- Argentina worrying the entire time, is Samhain about to have another seizure?

26

SUNDAY, DAY 10

The next hour passed by uneventfully inside of the cabin as Samhain napped on the couch. Despite Argentina’s worries, she didn’t have a seizure- and along with that a lack of appetite. Argentina begrudgingly took up the job of finishing her sandwich, grimacing as the final bites went down- what kind of a madman puts sprinkles on a sandwich, anyways? Argentina wanted to pose that question to Samhain, but being that neither of them had gotten very good sleep last night and Samhain appeared to be quite enjoying her nap, the brunette let her be.

***

“Samhain!”

Argentina poked her head out of the bedroom, startling a Samhain sweeping around the disused fireplace that was probably no longer safe to use.

“Did you move the money stash? I can't find it.”

Samhain turned around for a moment, squinting at Argentina, who had donned a pair of sunglasses... inside?

“Yeah, it's in the freezer. Got to keep your cold hard cash safe.”

Argentina lifted her hands up, and Samhain sighed as she abandoned the broom by the fireplace. She opened the freezer and tossed the rubber-banded lump of bills at Argentina, which was just beginning to freeze.

“How much toilet paper do you think this will buy?”

“A crapload, probably.”

Samhain could have sworn that Argentina winked from behind the sunglasses, but she couldn’t tell as her friend vacated the building, tucking the wad of money inside of the large purse she’d found in one of the dressers.

Argentina blinked a few times upon stepping outside, not expecting it to be so dim, but opted to keep the sunglasses on.

However, just as she had unlocked the van and was about to step inside, a massive shadow passed over the land- if she hadn’t known any better, she would have sworn that it was evening. Stepping out of the van, she tilted her head up at the sky. What in the world...

A few seconds later, she felt a tugging on her arm, and she removed her suddenly useless sunglasses to see Samhain trying to catch her breath by her side, probably from dashing outside to see why everything had darkened. Nothing was in front of the sun, impeding its sunshiney purpose...

Samhain shrugged before standing on her toes and planting a kiss on Argentina’s cheek, much to her surprise.

“Good luck on the shopping trip.”

“For goodness sakes, Samhain.” Argentina lifted one hand up to the spot where Samhain had kissed her. “It’s not like I’m going off to war or anything dangerous. I’m not going to return in a box, just with a few small boxes. And maybe some toilet paper, if I can find any.”

“Well, my butt sends its regards.”

Samhain dashed back inside, chuckling to herself at the immature remark. Argentina slipped back into the driver’s seat of the van, taking a few moments to lean back in her seat and observe herself in the mirror of the sun visor.

Is my hair supposed to look that messy? I’m supposed to be traveler-chic after all, but maybe I should have taken a shower this morning.

Argentina, you look fine. Non-recognizable, maybe, but utterly fine.

Maybe I should have brought some lipstick with me to complete the look-

An almost-deafening sound like a bomb going off boomed from the direction of the field, threatening to shatter Argentina’s eardrums. She cringed, covering her ears and curling up on herself.

God, what is that unearthly sound?

The boom faded after a few seconds, but it didn’t fully disappear until after Argentina had counted to thirty, at which time she peeked out from her protective ball and found that the shadow over the land had completely disappeared, regaining its brightness.

Argentina donned her sunglasses for the second time and found that Samhain had made her way to the passenger seat, trembling and probably still thinking that the boom was still trying to pierce her ears. Argentina tapped her shoulder a few times, and Samhain poked her head out, gratefully uncovering her ears when she found Argentina free of pain. Free of all pain except for the remnants of her shocked eardrums, that was.

“I know that it’s usually what gets people killed in movies,” Samhain hoarsely whispered, “but do you want to go check that out? I’d really hate it if we were about to die and didn’t have time to prepare.”

Argentina rolled her eyes before relenting. The two girls slipped out of the van and began running towards the source of the noise, somewhere in the field where they’d eaten lunch.

They hadn’t even passed the two-thirds marker before men clad in gray and white jumped out of the foliage, guns poking out of their waistbands and poised on their hands. Argentina and Samhain halted immediately, eyes darting for a way out before one of the men approached them.

Argentina tightened her grip on her purse. Oh, god, please don’t let me die today.

Samhain stepped a bit closer to Argentina, brushing her hand against the brunette’s. I didn’t come all the way up here to be gunned down by muggers.

The prospective assailant, who was donning a ski mask and only had his eyes exposed, gestured for the girls to follow him. As they were trembling at the sudden appearance of the group, they stayed like statues in place for a moment until one of the other men poked the barrel of their pistol into each of their backs in turn and forced them to resume walking, albeit surrounded this time.

The first thing that the two girls noticed upon turning off onto the field was the private jet, sleek and shiny and poised directly in the middle of the grassed expanse. The boarding door was open, and coming closer, they could see that another man was poised on the staircase with his hands in his lap. Samhain recognized him, apparently, because she immediately stiffened up and refused to walk any further towards the jet.

“Samhain’s what’s wrong?” Argentina squinted her eyes, trying to make out the features of the person on their stairs as the armed figures pushed the both of them forward. He looked about twenty, clean-shaven and with a growing smile on his face like a hunting dog had brought back the prey that he’d spent valuable time tracking down.

“So, Argentina...” The man lifted himself up and stepped down the stairs, gesturing to the guards to fall away and board into the plane. Argentina crossed her arms as he approached the two girls, Samhain increasingly panicking as the distance between him and her decreased. He glanced down at her and added, “Samhain, so nice to see you again.”

She crumpled to the ground, hiding her head in her lap. “Go away, Anders.”

So this is Anders? “What do you want with us?”

“I’ll explain that when you get into the plane.”

“What-” Argentina scoffed, rolling her eyes before dropping down beside Samhain and helping her back up to stand beside her. “I’m not just abandoning all of my possessions here because some stranger drops out of the middle of nowhere and accosts us with gunmen. Besides, Samhain certainly knows you, and from what I’ve been told, you’re a less than savory person.”

“I’m sending men over here to keep good watch over your possessions here. There’s nothing for you to worry about.” He held out his hands to Argentina, rough and scabbed from the past few days. “I sent a drone out here looking for the Nova Luno. I haven’t found them yet, but instead I found the two missing girls from Wychester. I suppose that will be a bit more valuable to your parents.”

“I’ll repeat the question again.” Argentina shrugged her slipping bag back onto her shoulder as Samhain buried her head into the other shoulder. “What do you want with us? We’re not doing anything illegal out here, just living peacefully.”

“You’re Samhain’s friend, right?”

Argentina rolled her eyes, just barely visible from behind her sunglasses. “Who else would I be?”

“I’m just making sure. Being that you’re her friend, I would assume that you care about her wellbeing, right?” He took a step backwards towards the plane, still keeping his sight trained on the two girls- particularly Samhain, who was trembling on the verge of a mental breakdown. “There’s a tumor in her brain, and from my predictions, it’s been growing very slowly but steadily. Give her another month, and she’ll be dead. And then what, Argentina? What are you going to do when Samhain’s dead and you’re all alone up in the middle of nowhere?”

Argentina averted her gaze to the ground, shameful. “I...”

“Will you two please come with me peacefully so that Samhain can get the treatment that she needs? I’d really prefer not to use force today, but I’ll do what I must to ensure my patient’s safety.”

Am I just disposable then? And how do I know that he’s been genuine? Samhain, hyperventilating on her shoulder, looked like she was about to faint from panic. Damn, he makes a good point...

Against Argentina’s better judgement, she said, “Fine, Anders, we’ll come with you. It doesn’t look like I have much of a choice, anyways.”

“Thank you.”

Anders allowed a small smile to cross his face before turning aboutface and boarding the jet. Argentina whispered a small apology to Samhain before hoisting her up in her arms and carrying her to the jet. Samhain’s head lolled on Argentina’s arm as she struggled up the short stairway, trembling as she stepped onto the welcome mat directly inside the door.

Immediately upon boarding, the men who’d accosted them in the woods- their guns still tucked into their waistbands- held their arms out, expecting Argentina to drop Samhain into their arms. Argentina shook her head, indicating that she was going to take her place on the long cushioned bench on the right side of the place, but the guards shook their heads as well and blocked her way.

Samhain opened her eyes then. One of the guards came up behind Argentina and forced her to put the shaking Samhain onto the ground, where another one helped her to stand and silently guided her to the back compartment of the plane.

Noticing that Argentina was on the verge of breaking down herself, Anders poked his head out of the private room near the front of the jet.

“My sincerest apologies. Would you please join me in here, Argentina?”

“It doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice.”

She followed Anders into the tiny room, taking the seat across from him which he gestured to. The room was white and well-lit with a row of windows on the left side, exposing a strip of the field to her view. The seats were well-padded, and if Argentina wasn’t already on edge, she could have sunk down into the cushions and fallen asleep.

Sitting down himself, Anders settled his hands into his lap, sighing as he did so.

“Where do I begin?”

27

SUNDAY, DAY 10

You’d think that I would be treated with a little more respect than a piece of luggage, but no, I didn’t even get a nice seat beside the window to watch the clouds.

Samhain attempted to wiggle her toes for the fifth time since the guards had taken her to the back compartment of the private jet. In the name of “ensuring her safety”, they’d wrapped her up in something comparable to a padded shell, leaving only her head exposed and the rest of her body motionless. They claimed that it was Anders’ directive, that they were worried about her accidentally hurting herself before they could get her to a safer environment. Samhain had argued that a private jet was considerably safer than an ancient cabin in the woods and that, if she hadn’t hurt herself there, there was no reason for her to do so here... but she found herself immobile in the back all the same.

Good god, I wish that there was at least a light in here... are those stars passing by my eyes?

Samhain shook her head frantically.

Nononono, this isn’t the time to be having a seizure...

“Samhain!”

The door opened just as fast as the stars had fallen, immediately dispelling the galaxies about to form. Samhain whipped her head in the direction of the light flooding in, but instead of Argentina, it was one of the guards, unmasked and standing in the doorway.

“You doing alright in here?”

“What do you think, buddy?” she spat out. He’s a tad attractive. Nice jawline. Maybe I shouldn’t sass him. “Sorry. I’ve been in here for, what, fifteen minutes? Can you please let me out now?”

The guard checked his watch, shaking his head. “More like three. And sorry, I can’t let you out. Anders said that you weren’t to be injured any further while on the way there.”

“Pah! Because there would totally be any reason for me to hurt myself, except maybe to spite him, and that wouldn’t be a big enough reward for me to consider it.”

“Well, your files did say that you were a little...” The guard scratched the back of his neck. “Mentally unstable.”

“Well, this shell is slowly suffocating me.” She wheezed for good effect, hoping that the guard would buy it. “That’s enough for you to let me go, right? See, look, I’m being injured.”

He gazed out at the girl in pity for a few agonizing seconds, wishing that he hadn’t been the one assigned to her care for the trip before squatting down beside her. He undid the clasps holding the shell together, cracking it open and allowing a very grateful and yet flustered Samhain out.

“Don’t tell Anders that it was me who did this, okay? I don’t want to go back to flipping burgers.”

Samhain propped her elbow on his shoulder as she helped herself up, wobbly and a bit disoriented from the complete darkness of the compartment. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he winced. “Now please get off of me.”

Samhain pushed off of him before sliding into one of the bench seats underneath the windows. Wrapping her feet around the pole of the small table jutting out from the floor, she twisted around, losing her gaze in the pink fluffy clouds outside the window.

You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been on a plane before. It’s not nearly as unpleasant as I imagined it, except for the quasi-closet and the fact that I almost fainted twice.

That’s not a fair comparison, Samhain. This is a luxury jet.

She stroked the fabric of the bench, enjoying the soft sensation under her palm.

You’ll probably never fly in one again, so savor this. Commercial planes are much louder and more turbulent, and there are whiny crying babies and obese people who take up two seats and little kids who constantly scream about video games and needing to go to the bathroom.

***

“You know, Argentina, I’m quite fascinated with the situation you’re in.”

Argentina glared down at her lap, wishing that her legs would still. Just like her, they were visibly crossed.

“What do you mean, exactly, by fascinated?”

“What I mean is...” Anders rested his elbows on the little slide-out table separating the adult from the adolescent. “What was it like to drive all of those miles without an adult making all the decisions? How’d you manage to evade the police forces searching for you and Samhain?”

Argentina bit her lip and stayed silent, refusing to give off any answers. Instead of focusing on the answer at hand- she’d just driven normally and emulated what she knew from homelessness survival guides on the internet- she focused on his fragrance.

“Well?”

He drummed his fingers on the table. The fragrance grew stronger- was it orange? Some exotic flower that Argentina would have had no chance of ever knowing of without running across him? He didn’t look exotic, unless every single map she’d ever looked at lied to her and the Scandinavian nations were some exotic island getaway.

“What was it like falling asleep with only one other person around for who knows how many miles?”

Argentina glanced up, catching the malignant glint on Anders’ eyes. Her palms began to sweat. “I don’t want to answer the question.”

“Samhain’s treatment will go faster if we know exactly what she’s been going through.”

Her voice began to tremble as she replied, “Then why don’t you cut out my brain and see for yourself? Come on, you have the tools-”

Anders cut her off with his roaring laughter- for a second, Argentina was gripping the edges of her seat, genuinely worried that Anders was going to shake apart the plane with nothing but the force of his lungs.

“Are you okay?”

He stopped when one of the guards knocked on the door, inquiring if he’d gone completely insane. He wiped his forehead and shooed the guard off.

“I can’t suck memories out of people’s heads... yet. And when I get the equipment, it’s not going to involve cutting heads open. And I wouldn’t be able to read the memories, so why don’t you tell me what happened to Samhain so that I won’t have to pester you when we land?”

“How am I supposed to trust you?”

The joviality melted off of Anders’ face at the mention of trust. He wiped his face with the end of his sleeve and placed his hands on the table, palms up for Argentina to see. The palms were a bit worn and cracked- nothing that a bit of lotion wouldn’t be able to handle, Argentina noted.

“I’ll tell you a secret if you tell me something that happened while you two were up north. Except for the part where the ghosters on the jet malfunctioned and the huge metal contraption fell out of the sky and had a rougher landing than I would have liked. I already know how that one went.”

“Well...” I’d really hate to have this clearly delusional man invade my privacy, but maybe there’s a missing piece of Samhain’s puzzle that I’m missing. “I guess.”

Anders folded his hands, staring intently at Argentina. “I’m listening.”

What can I possibly tell him that won’t make me sound like a horny desperate girl?

Not the seizure. Definitely not the seizure.

“Not much happened, since we were only there for.. a full day? Man, I don’t know. But on the way there, someone paid us to let her hitchhike. I don’t remember her name.”

“Did she hurt any of you?”

“N... no. She didn’t steal anything from us, either.” She reached to her side, pulling her purse onto her lap. “Okay, so what’s your big bad angsty secret that you’re going to tell us now? What’s hiding behind your standard brown hair?”

“It’s just a tad lighter than your own. If anything, yours is more standard.” Anders closed his eyes and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly to relieve the stress in his shoulders. “I’m on the brink of a huge scientific discovery that will change the course of human evolution forever.”

“Mighty big ego you got there.”

He opened his brown eyes. “I’m becoming immortal.”

His words echoed in the room for a few seconds. Argentina remained incredulous, gasping for words, before finally giving up on the whole endeavour and bursting out into uncontrollable laughter.

“What?” Anders’ eyes dashed around the room, searching for an explanation. “I’m being serious.”

Argentina wiped her forehead, her laughter winding down. “Sure you are, Anders. You just keep telling yourself that and maybe it’ll come true.”

“I'm serious.” He lowered his voice, forcing Argentina to sober up. “Samhain might have told you about her unauthorized excursion to the second floor, did she?”

“Correct...” Argentina shifted at the edge of her seat, on edge herself. “Are you going to punish her for that?”

The room chilled, and Argentina shivered. Anders remained focused on Argentina as the intercom crackled to life.

“Hello, passengers, this is your copilot speaking. We are almost at your destination. In fifteen minutes, we will be landing. Please be prepared to buckle your seatbelts and ready for landing when the signal sounds.”

Anders rolled his eyes. There were no seatbelts in the compartment. “I wanted to, but it’ll make it easier to explain this. Did she tell you about the floating skeleton?”

“I believe so.”

“Well...” He swallowed, just as nervous as the adolescent sitting across from him. “I’m trying to build a new strain of the human race, one that will be far more resilient to the common plagues and afflictions that are cancerous to humanity.”

Argentina shook her head. “So you’re playing God is what you’re telling me-”

“I’d really prefer if you called it designing organisms, but yes, that’s essentially what I’m doing.”

“And how in the world are Samhain and I helpful to this in any way?”

“Well, if you cooperate...” He pulled a tissue out of the pocket of his jeans and blew his nose. He grimaced before discarding the tissue into the compact trash can at his side. “I’ll let you both be among the first to try out the finished product when I’ve conquered death. And then you’ll have all of eternity or as long as you like to figure out whether or not you’re actually in love with Samhain.”

“You-” Argentina stuck her hands underneath her armpits. Her body trembled as she resisted the urge to lash out and strangle Anders for the comment on her fledgling relationship- if it could even be called that, anyway. “You’re a scam artist, Anders, and a bloody damn talented one at that if we’re in a luxury jet right now. How many innocent people did you have to fuck over to get all this money?”

“I have an alternative reality.” Anders placed both hands on the table, leaning over and getting dangerously close to Argentina’s face. “I do valuable research for the city of Soona Bris’ government, and in exchange for the countless lives I’ve been able to save from my advancements, the people in the higher-ups give me more leeway to do what I please than normal citizens. If you cooperate, things will be much more simple for you and Samhain. Once her treatment is over, if you so please, we’ll have nothing to do with each other ever again. But I need you to cooperate right now, Argentina.”

“Fine.” She slumped back in her seat. “But I want some proof that the immortality stuff is for real. You can't possibly be so stupid as to think that you can make a biological organism last forever.”

“Then what are these?” Anders lifted up the cuff of his right sleeve, exposing his forearm. Little blue pinpricks dotted the skin mere inches from his wrist. “These were from the primers of the previous week. I’m going to be the first, Argentina. And if you so please, you can be the second.”

28

SUNDAY, DAY 10

Dear journal, I have some good news and some bad news. Mom always told me to focus on the negatives first as to get them out of the way so that I could celebrate the positive without worries. But Mom isn't here, so I’ll discuss them in any damn order I want.

Currently, I am inside a hotel with Samhain, who I suspect I may soon be calling my girlfriend. Our situation the past few days has been all but hectic, so the time that we might have spent discussing our feelings and coming to an agreement concerning our burgeoning relationship was instead spent on worrying about Samhain’s declining health and our own safety.

Samhain is sleeping on the bed, which, quite ironically, Anders paid for us to sleep in. Ironic because we spent so much time getting away from him and, now that he’s found us, we’ve lost all resolve to find the Nova Luno. The only reason that we’re in this hotel now is that Anders needs at least twelve hours to clear up the missing person reports with the police before we can go to the Institute. Not that I want to, anyways. Not that I've ever wanted to.

Argentina wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her nightgown, feeling the light breeze ruffle the bottom. It was late at night- about eleven or so, although her watch was charging on the desk in the room. She stood at the balcony outside of the hotel room, writing in the paper notepad found in her desk using the light streaming from the sliding glass door behind her.

If I really wanted to. I could jump off of this balcony and, ten meters later, plop into the river below. The waters probably wouldn't make that much of a sound, anyways.

God dammit, what am I thinking? I'm not killing myself anytime soon. There's absolutely no reason for me to fantasize about slipping into the waters below, feeling my dress billow out below me, caressed by the soft swirling-

Samhain is tossing and turning in the sheets. To be honest, if the mythical magical bond between lovers really did exist, I wouldn't blame her. But the sheets are everywhere; maybe she’s having a nightmare, churning her brain into a storm and tossing the waves of thought everywhere. Maybe she’s a storm. Maybe I’ve fallen in love with a storm.

I wonder how Lucia is faring back at home. She’s undoubtedly enjoying summer, more so now that she knows that we’re not dead with our corpses strewn across the forest.

Maybe I should go to sleep now.

Police sirens sounded in the distance, echoing off of the buildings- all probably containing sleeping people in them dreaming of other internal afflictions. Argentina raised her head from her journal, worried for a moment that maybe they were coming for the two girls- that Anders had messed up majorly and was on his way to a chilly cell in jail. But after a few anxious seconds, the sirens faded away again, and Argentina returned to the scrawlings littering the pages.

I should probably go join Samhain in bed. Maybe her body will calm with me by her side. Maybe her arms will snake around me like poison ivy growing on a fence, slithering around all the cracks and finding the most ensnaring position.

Thank goodness that there's a shower in these facilities.

My feet are itchy in these shoes. I think it’s time to wash them. That’ll be the first thing I insist on doing in the Institute. They’ve got to have a washing machine for clothes somewhere.

29

MONDAY, DAY 11

Argentina rubbed her eyes as the morning sunlight hit her eyes, filtering through the large windows stretching all the way up the streetside wall. You know, for a coffee shop in an affluent city, it’s oddly quiet. There’s barely anybody here.

“Argentina?” Samhain snuggled closer to her friend. They were seated in the back corner of the coffee shop, as far away from the front door as possible. In her hands, she held a glazed donut. “Are you okay? You look a bit dazed.”

“I’m just tired.”

Argentina reached for the shared frappuccino, taking a few long sips of the strawberry mix in. The metallic taste from accidentally biting her tongue in her sleep still lingered behind the sweetness, beaten down for a minute before resurfacing.

“You know, maybe we should go looking for the Nova Luno again. Maybe we’d have better luck this time around.”

Samhain sighed. “Argentina-”

“Maybe we should go missing again,” she spat out. “I’m in the mood for making a bad decision.”

Samhain took a bite of her donut. The warm glaze melted on her tongue, leaving behind a sticky taste after she swallowed.

“It would be better to go kissing than missing.”

“What kind of an argument is that?”

Samhain set down the donut. “Well, if you want an actual argument, I’m dependent on Anders’ medicine.” She lifted up the bottom of her shirt for a moment, pointing out the bump in her lower abdomen. “Anders left a note in the room overnight. I read it when you were sleeping in. Did you know that we’re departing in a few hours? And I have an implant that’s been keeping me alive? He’s going to remove it when it’s time for treatment.”

“That could have been a tracker...” Argentina slapped her forehead, exasperated. “Maybe we should go find the Nova Luno for Anders. I bet he’d like that.”

“Maybe you should take another bite of your muffin. Like the TV says, even though you don't like listening to it? You're not you when you're hungry.”

“Hmmm?”

Argentina looked up from the muffin, which she’d bought for herself at Samhain’s request. The blonde girl hadn't felt comfortable ordering for only herself in a place she'd never been inside before.

“I understand that it’s early in the morning, but you're not thinking rationally.”

“Rational thinking, my ass.” Argentina took a bite out of the crunchy top. “You call me a rational thinker when I literally went chasing after a cult claiming to be from heaven.”

“That was curiosity. It’s killed thousands of cats, you know.”

Argentina squirmed in her seat in the corner. The realization of her irrationality the whole trip hit her life a truck full on, and her hands flew to face, trying to hide her sudden embarrassment.

God, I’ve been such an idiot.

“The only one acting catty here is you, Samhain.”

“You want to see me catty?” Samhain’s eyes flickered, eyeing the crumbs on Argentina’s lips. “Let me get that for you.”

“Get wha-”

And then Samhain leaned forward and kissed Argentina lightly on the lips, just a short little peck before her cheeks flushed. Argentina's startled hands fell away from her face, unsure where to go. Samhain pulled away immediately after, turning away from Argentina and hiding her face in her hands.

“Samhain?”

Samhain groaned in response.

“Samhain? That wasn't catty at all.” Flustered, Argentina lightly laid a hand on the girl's shoulder. The nail polish had chipped off long ago, leaving dull nails. “That was heaven.”

Samhain snorted in a half-hearted laugh before taking a sip of the strawberry drink that she didn't know how to spell. “You amuse me. A Catholic telling me that a hasty kiss from someone of the same gender was heaven.”

“You do more to me than amuse, you wily muse. I'll give you another chance if that's what you want.”

Argentina waited a few ticks of the wall clock for Samhain to put the drink down. Leaning forward, she snaked her arms around her friend, ensnaring her in for another kiss. But this was more than a peck- it was strawberry and heaven and all the words that fell out of Samhain’s skull on the night that the stars wanted to kill her, but now the stars were aligned and screaming at the two girls that maybe they should just admit that they were viciously in love.

The buzz remained in their limbs after they disconnected from each other, leaning back into both of their seats. Nobody in the coffee shop was staring at them; there was only one other person there, and he was engrossed in a newspaper near the front with earbuds in.

“So...” Samhain fluttered her eyelashes. “What do you want to do about the Nova Luno?”

“Samhain...” The very name buzzed Argentina, radiating out to her limbs and threatening to make her glow. Trying to catch her breath, which Samhain had so blatantly stolen from her, she breathed, “I maintain what I said. I’d follow you anywhere.”

“So I guess I'll stay with you then.”

Argentina took another sip of the frappuccino, her cheeks flushing. “Are you a fancy coffee? Because I think I’m whipped, and I'd gladly top you.”

30

MONDAY, DAY 11

The rhythmic pounding of water on Argentina's chest soothed her as she started the shower. Judging from her heart alone, she could have been a racehorse, thumping faster than a heart should have been able to pump. And her body- oh! what it was to be in love, indistinguishable from being radioactive with skin tingling and glowing and a spring in the step that definitely wasn't there before.

“Argentina!” Samhain yelled from the other side of the hotel bathroom door, knocking on the polished wood. “The room phone's ringing, and it's wearing your bra!”

“Can you answer it, please? I'm a bit busy.”

Argentina almost felt bad to wash off all of Samhain's kisses- and other actions- from the previous hour after they'd gotten back from the café, but if that's what it took to ensure that Anders didn't catch a whiff of an offensive smell and treat them less for it, well, it was a necessary sacrifice.

By the time that Samhain returned and knocked on the bathroom door again, Argentina had lathered in shampoo and was scrubbing every last inch of her body down.

“Argentina?”

“Yes, Samhain?”

“Anders was calling. He wanted us to know that we're leaving in an hour. When you get out of the shower, we'll have to start packing immediately.”

“Can you start for me, please?” Argentina rinsed her body down. “I think I'm going to take a while in here.”

“Alright.”

Samhain’s voice disappeared through the door. Argentina already knew the mess that was in front of the girl now- clothes scattered everywhere throughout the room, starting in the closet with the ironing board and coat hangers, rolling through the little expanse past the bathroom, and on to the bed.

Good luck remembering whose clothes are whose, Samhain.

***

In the ornate lobby of the hotel stood a large sculpture of an angel. Faded green from age and chipped in a few corners, it towered above the two girls on its stand as they wheeled their Anders-supplied suitcases to the lobby. The glass dome above them gently showered light as they sat down on the bench at the statue's feet.

Samhain tugged on the collar of her yellow shirt. There hadn't been much to pack, being that the vast majority of their belongings were still at the cabin, but a few of Anders’ cronies had gone back and retrieved a few days worth of outfits.

“Argentina? Where's Anders? I thought that he would be meeting us here.”

The brunette shrugged. “Maybe he's checking out somewhere else. I-”

Argentina cut off, spying Anders strolling towards them through one of the hallways branching off from their right. Not bothering to speak, he waved in their direction, gesturing for them to follow him as he passed by.

They continued to follow him out of the building, Samhain lagging behind to catch one more glimpse of the paintings on the wall until Argentina grabbed her hand and tugged her along. The parking lot was sparsely populated, only shared with a few other cars probably belonging to office workers not wanting to bunk too far away from their beloved workplace.

“Hopefully this is the last stop,” Anders said, stopping in front of the white van.

“Umm..” Argentina twisted her hands together. “Anders? Do you notice anything off-putting about this vehicle?”

The man released an exasperated sigh, knocking on the sliding door and waiting for the blonde woman inside to unlock the vehicle.

“No, I’m not a child molester, and I’m not a kidnapper either. You want some candy?”

“I feel like I’m being kidnapped. And I’ll pass on the candy.”

The two girls boarded the vehicle, slipping into the seats in the middle row. There was a pane of bulletproof glass between them and the front row seats, not unlike the setup in a police car, and a metal wall with a small door that they’d have to crouch down to enter hid the back row from their sight.

“Where are we going to sit?” Argentina wondered aloud as the blonde woman slipped out of her front row seat and came around the collect the girls’ suitcases.

“In the back,” Anders answered.

“Okay...”

Argentina unbuckled her seatbelt, and Samhain’s eyes followed her as she crouched down and opened the small door. Waddling in, she rolled her eyes at the sight of two sleeping pods secured in the back.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Argentina sighed.

“Samhain is extremely important to our mission which I told you about yesterday on the plane.” Anders slipped into the seat which Argentina had just vacated. “I need to keep her preserved-”

“Do I look like a strawberry jam to you?”

Samhain moved to slap him, but it was easily dodged as he hadn’t put his seatbelt on yet. She only accomplished a small scratch at the base of his neck with the ragged edge of one nail, which she immediately retracted, suddenly worried about him retaliating just when they were on the horizon of the trip ending.

“Anyways...” Anders rubbed the spot where Samhain had scratched him, wincing at the red spot beginning to form. “I need to ensure that she’s safe, and she won’t consent to anything if I don’t get you along as well.”

Argentina poked her head out of the small enclosure, her eyes trained on Anders’ face.

“I’m not going in a sleeping pod.”

“I promise that it’s painless. Anyways, it’s not like there would be anything to do while in here. There are no windows.”

“But-”

“And the roads on the way to the Institute aren’t exactly well-known for their smoothness, so you wouldn’t be able to make out in there or whatever it is that girls do.”

“I-” Argentina stuttered, her face blushing. “Fine! Come on, Samhain.”

Samhain cast a dark glance at Anders before slinking to the back of the van. Argentina was sitting by her pod, waiting for Samhain to crawl into hers first as she had more experience.

“Argentina, are you okay?” Samhain whispered, flinching as the metal door closed. The compartment was completely dark save for the gentle blue glow of the lights on the sleeping pods.

“I’m fine,” she lied, observing as Samhain opened the lid and crawled in. “One more kiss before the fall?”

“I’m feeling a bit queasy. I wouldn’t want to spill the taste of bile into your mouth.”

Samhain’s eyes fluttered closed as she leaned back, pulling the lid shut behind her. Argentina waited a few seconds, her breathing the only audible thing besides the hum of the sleeping pods, before pulling hers open.

Dear god, it’s even colder and slippier than I thought...

Hey, didn’t Samhain say that there were going to be dreams in here? It’s quite dark for such an illuminated machine.

Nope, no dreams for me.

31

MONDAY, DAY 11

The rise wasn’t nearly as gentle on her brain as the fall was. The soft blue glow of the lights on the rim of the sleeping pod hit Samhain’s eyes, but instead of a serene waking up and feeling refreshed, Samhain bolted straight up and smacked her head on the plastic lid.

Dammit, where am I?

Red streaks crossed her vision, and her hands furiously wandered over the interior of the pod before locating the release handle. She jerked on it and pushed the lid open, crawling out and promptly collapsing on the floor- at least, she thought it was the floor, since it didn’t look like gravity would be bothering to pick her up anytime soon.

Am I in hell?

Her palms rested on the cold metal of the floor.

Nah, too chilly. Maybe this is purgatory?

The floor jerked forward a bit, and the thumping in her brain calmed a bit.

Oh yeah, I’m in Anders’ unmarked white van. There’s the parking kickback.

Something poked at her feet, and Samhain winced as the compartment was flooded with light. When she gathered the nerves to look at what had thrown the pounding back into her head, her eyes widened.

“Are you an angel?”

“No.” She snorted, quite obviously trying to contain a laugh as Samhain rubbed her eyes in confusion. “I’m Lainey, one of Anders’ assistants. Apparently the one that he trusts the most, since he sent me out to wake you two up. Nobody’s called me an angel in a long time.”

Somewhere to Samhain’s right as she lay on the floor, a thunk sounded, and the lights on the small control panel on the outside of the pod flashed as the top slid open. Argentina gasped for air, rubbing furiously at her eyes and swatting the wet strands of hair out of her face.

Lainey outstretched her hand to the two girls, and she clumsily helped them out of the van and onto the street they were parked in. Argentina, not nearly as befuddled as Samhain, still walked with a stumble in her step as they crossed the concrete strip.

“Wait a minute.” Samhain gazed out at the building in front of her, rubbing her eyes. “This isn’t the Institute. Why are we here?”

“Well...”

Lainey released her grip on the girls’ arms and twisted her hands together. Facing them was a red brick house, bordered by little yellow daffodils in the front yard. Old, faded, and checkered curtains hung from the windows. It could have been one of the old houses belonging to her great-grandparents that Samhain used to visit every summer back when she was in elementary school. But from what Samhain could see from the few windows whose curtains were pushed back was that the interior was very much up to date and not the dusty disaster the exterior suggested.

“Well?” Samhain yawned.

“There were quite a few car crashes on the way here, none of which we were involved in, thankfully. We had to take quite a few detours, which wasted a lot of our time. Anders doesn’t want us driving at night with such a precious payload-” Samhain huffed at this, and Argentina rolled her eyes- “so we had to stop here for the night.”

“Well, where exactly is here?” Argentina complained, holding her hands out in front of her. The sun was just beginning to peek out from the treeline bordering the house’s yards from the neighbors.

“Why don’t you go inside?”

Lainey nudged the two girls forward, abandoning them to flit through the front door. Argentina shook her head before following her. Samhain, however, lingered in the front yard for a few moments, approaching the garden and stroking the heads of some of the daffodils- oh, how soft they were in the evening light!- before also going inside.

The hallway wasn’t nearly as outdated and nostalgic as Samhain had expected, just normal white walls with two openings that led to the kitchen on the left side or the living room straight ahead. In the kitchen, Lainey was sitting at the wooden table with a cup of tea in hand, watching the steam drift up to the ceiling. The living room, however, was a stage set for disaster- Anders and another man stood at opposite ends of the coffee table, bickering at each other.

“You haven’t returned my calls for months, Anders!” A man about six-foot-three waved his arms about his body, fire in his eyes the same color as his strawberry-red hair. “You haven’t stopped by in a week unlike what you promised, and you just expect that I’ll be okay with you and your band of merry cohorts just bunking here for the night with no warning? You could have at least called!”

It was a valid argument, Samhain thought, but Anders took a few steps towards the lanky man around the table, his jaw clenched.

“You owe me a favor, Amane, and I’m cashing it in now.”

“But with no warning-”

“Look! I’m sorry!” Anders threw his arms into the air, exasperated. “I didn’t know that there were going to be so many goddamn detours on the way here! God, I could almost retch at the sight of a safety cone right now! But we’re here, and we need a place to stay for the night. I’m sorry, Amane. We’ll leave as early as we can in the morning.”

Amane suddenly crossed the divide between him and Anders and threw his arms around the man, digging his face into Anders’ shoulder. “You can stay as long as you want to, I don’t care-” He stiffened, suddenly aware that Samhain was shock-still watching the scene in the doorway. “But any trouble from your friends and I’ll throw the whole lot of you out.”

Anders, embarrassed at Samhain’s observance, shrugged away from a disappointed Amane and strode towards Samhain. He stopped in front of the kitchen, waving Argentina over- who was in the middle of enjoying tea with Lainey and very reluctant to leave her chair.

“For your safety, I’m going to need the both of you to stay in separate rooms tonight.”

“What-” Argentina nearly lost her grip on her ceramic cup. She set it down on the kitchen table, trembling. “Why?”

“Because...” Anders sighed, sensing a possible confrontation. The words that he had planned in his head to explain this fluttered out of his head. His eyes slid to the ceiling. “Because...”

“Because you two are unpredictable together!” Amane shouted from his position on the couch. A sly grin was forming across his face. “And Anders is afraid that you’ll shake the whole house apart!”

“Shut up, Amane.” Anders rolled his eyes at the suggestive wink that Amane gave him when he turned around, irked by his antics. Returning to the girls, he continued, “You’ll have as much time as you want at the Institute to be together, treatment permitting. It’s just one night.”

Samhain ashamedly relented, much to Argentina’s surprise. “I suppose that I need a night to sort out my emotions.”

“What-” Argentina began, realizing a moment later that there really wasn’t a good counterargument to this without sounding like a prick. She waited as Anders and Amane retreated to the kitchen, where they continued bickering about visits and other drivel that wasn’t relevant to Argentina. “Samhain?”

She looked up from the floor. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s just...” She sighed, taking her friend’s hand and tromping into the living room. There was a long hallway with a bathroom at the end, two staircases branching out to different parts of the upstairs about halfway through. A door to the bedroom preceded the one on the right. “Maybe we should be getting comfortable in our rooms.”

“Okay.”

Samhain leaned forward to give Argentina one more kiss, although it was dry and not nearly as enjoyable as the one in the coffee shop that morning. Abandoning her friend suddenly, she dashed up the creaky wooden stairs, leaving her astonished friend staring up and wondering how exactly her life had lead her there.

And then one of the bedroom doors slammed shut.

32

TUESDAY, DAY 12

Samhain rubbed her eyes for the seventh time that night, desperately praying to herself that her body would still and she’d be able to get at least three hours of sleep. Half of the blankets on the bed had fallen to the floor as a result of her ceaseless kicking and flailing in the bed, although as the hours waned on, a sort of heaviness had grown in her bones.

Not nearly enough, though.

She couldn’t exactly pinpoint the exact cause of her sleeplessness. She wasn’t hungry, as Lainey had delivered dinner to both of the girls in their separate rooms a few hours before bedtime. Samhain could still feel the soft warmed crust of the pot pie on her lips, surviving through the toothpaste. Sure, the room was cold, and Samhain struggled to keep more than one blanket on top of her in a desperate attempt to try to retain some semblance of warmth. But it wasn’t Antarctica, and in a way, Samhain relished in the chilly confines of her room against the summer slowly sloping towards the hottest days of the year.

It’s Argentina’s absence, isn’t it?

How’s she doing right now?

Samhain flipped her body to the other side of the bed, facing the wall away from the door.

Is she sleeping peacefully? Is she okay without me there?

We’ve been sleeping in each other’s vicinity for a week, haven’t we? And what a week it’s been. Whatever teacher pulls out the clichéd assignment of telling what we did over the summer won’t believe this.

Samhain’s door creaked the tiniest bit. It was probably just a fluke of her brain, she rationalized, just her tired mind playing tricks on her. But the same curiosity she’d penned on Argentina the previous day won out, and she flipped over in bed to check on the source of the noise.

A shadow stood in the doorway, a faint silhouette of a human being, although from it being three in the morning, Samhain wasn’t so sure. A demon, perhaps? Maybe it was the Grim Reaper, but he didn’t have his scythe.

She reached over to the bedside lamp and flicked it on.

Oh, it’s just Anders...

“What are you doing in my room at three in the morning?”

He took a step closer, his hands in his pockets.

“Have you been drinking?” Samhain sat up, still in her bed. “Your eyes are kinda red. Maybe you should go back to sleep.”

Anders slid his hands out of his pockets. Resting in his right hand was a silver pistol, obviously polished recently by the glint in the lamp’s light.

Dear god, I hope that thing is unloaded... Samhain slowly began backing towards the wall, tensing up. How far would bullets go through the bathroom wall right by this room?

She backed up too far, it turned out, because she yelped as she slid down into the partition between the wall and the bed, only two feet wide. Her butt slammed against the carpeted floor.

“Get up.” Anders gestured to the ceiling with the hand with the gun in it. The safety was off, at least to Samhain’s knowledge, but she still shivered as she painfully twisted her way up to a standing position.

“What’s going on, Anders?” She adjusted the collar on her nightshirt, which was slipping and revealing a bit more cleavage than she would have desired. “Why are you in here?”

I’ve got my hands up, but he’s not the police. I feel like I’m going to throw up.

Maybe he’s drunk or otherwise intoxicated.

Please let that gun be unloaded.

Please let this just be some kind of stupid prank.

But why would Anders, a grown adult, want to pull a prank on a teenager? Much less me?

The man began stumbling around the room, almost in an incomprehensible pattern until he straightened out and began pacing between the open door and the dresser. The mirror, when he passed in front of it, detailed an almost luminescent pattern of stripes and circles stitched in little pearly threads on his nightshirt.

“Um, Anders? Are you going to say anything?”

“Humans are so entertaining,” he spat out in a gravelly voice, far from the sweet timbre that he’d always spoken in until now.

She lowered her arms, still tense. “But you’re one too...”

He laughed at this, a rich tone that rang through the hallways. Samhain hoped that he’d at least wake up somebody else, but alas, nobody even stirred in their beds.

“Anyways, humans. Always bickering amongst themselves, each convinced that they and only they know the absolute truth about everything. Each with the conviction that they are the good guys in a world full of antagonists.”

He placed his hands behind his back, gun pointed towards the floor. “They make for such grand viewing from up high, and yet so predictable. If I really wanted to, I could make a fortune betting off world events, and yet the market’s already filled with gamblers.”

“Excuse me, up high?”

He ignored her as he continued rambling. “Ultimately, it doesn’t matter what you do with this life, does it? Because everybody goes to the same place once their consciousness passes from this plane of existence. Souls both pure and stained all gather in the same pool to be doled out like desserts to children at the ice cream social of life.”

“But doesn’t that mean that people should strive to be moral people...” She took a deep breath, eyeing his hands twitching behind him. “...so that they reduce the amount of suffering in the world?”

“I guess, if you want to put it that way. It won’t make much of a difference, though.”

“Also, another question, Anders. Why in the world are we discussing philosophy at three in the morning? If you wanted to have a conversation, you could have just asked. And what’s with the drunken appearance and the gun?”

He chuckled, pulling his hands in front of him. He stroked the barrel of the pistol with a few fingers.

“I’m not Anders. I just need a disposable body.”

“You’re insane.”

“Maybe by Earthen standards. But I’m not an Earthen. The system back at home is stagnating, Samhain, did you know that? Progress has all but halted in favor of stability and routine.”

She felt a few drops of sweat trickle down her back. “And...?”

A wide smile grew on his face, exposing his pearly white teeth- stained red in the light of the lamp. “I’m just a man, Samhain, not a god. A man who wants to see his people prosper. A man who wants to see the power returned to the people instead of the bureaucrats sitting at the thrones of heaven and hell.”

A revolution? “What does any of this have to do with me, though?”

“The only way that they’ll listen is through a revolution, Samhain.” He wiped his sweating forehead with his sleeve. “And unfortunately, that means that people have to die. No hard feelings. It’s not personal.”

Samhain’s lips parted, about to protest- it wasn’t fair, how would her death benefit an obviously insane Anders- but before she could wedge herself out of the partition between the bed and the wall and escape into the bathroom connected to her room, Anders raised his arm and flicked the safety off. Two shots later, and-

BANG! And the house shook with the force of the shot, barely settling down before BANG! again, rumbling through the walls.

Samhain’s body immediately limped and fell to the floor, her blonde fluffy hair a mess, her pale lips parted. Shock was one hell of a drug.

“ARGENTINA!” she screamed as the full force of what had happened hit her. Anders tossed his head back, brushing the hair out of his eyes and quitting the room. Her hands were pressed to the two holes a mere inch from each other, her legs feebly kicking, trying to push her out of the room but accomplishing nothing else other than writhing across the floor. “AMANE! LAINEY! ANYBODY?”

Wait a moment…

She removed her hands from the two burning spots on her abdomen, where blood was beginning to leak out through her nightshirt. Somewhere behind her, a streak of blood was beginning to stain the faded white carpet.

Wait.

This is it.

This is how I’m going to die.

Not in treatment in the Institute, locked up in the second floor and turned into a freak.

Not at the side of the road, limp in Argentina’s arms.

Not in the middle of nowhere with only one other person in earshot.

But inside of a stranger’s house, promised that I’d be safe and yet bleeding out onto the carpet.

“Argentina!” The burning spread to Samhain’s lungs, and she gasped for breath, biting back tears so hard that she feared that her bottom lip might split and add to the crimson festival. “Argentina... Lainey... Amane...”

Anybody?

33

TUESDAY, DAY 12

“Damn you, Anders. With your proud stance and the way that you think that you can control us all like marionettes. How you think that you’re somehow entitled to Samhain and that telling the police about you having us in custody somehow justifies not turning us over to our parents like procedure says you have to.”

I pushed myself off of the snowy ground, ignoring the stinging in my palms. Samhain’s limp body flopped onto the ground, her face buried in the soft white; her eyes had already faded. With her blood smeared all over my white shirt, I took the gun that she had pushed into my hands with her final breath and unloaded the single bullet straight into the heartless man’s chest.

The reverb of the gunshot felt real to me, realer than the rest of the dream, shaking in my bones and settling there.

A bit too real, perhaps-

The lights faded around her, and Argentina awoke to the realization that her teeth were clamped on the edge of her pillow. Embarrassed at herself, she flipped the pillow over, throwing her head back on and staring up at the ceiling.

I hope that Amane will wash everything I’ve touched after we’re gone.

A crash sounded from upstairs as her head settled onto the pillow. She bolted straight up in bed.

What was that?

Argentina abandoned her bed and soon her room, throwing the door open and feeling her way across the wall until her hands wrapped around the safety rail by the staircase. She stumbled her way up, and, catching sight of the leakage of light into the hallway, followed it to the bathroom.

Anders looked up from the sink when Argentina approached, dark circles under his eyes. He shook his head, his eyes widening as she grew closer- and as Argentina approached, the desperate scene that she’d stumbled upon grew clearer. Anders’ hands were in the sink, desperately trying to wash away blood or some other red substance caked in his nails. A silver gun sat a few feet away on the closed toilet seat.

“Anders?” Argentina whispered, her heart jacking up. “What did you do?”

“I...” He fidgeted, trying desperately not to look at the gun. “Why are you up so early?”

“I could ask you the same question.” His body stiffened up whenever his eyes passed over Argentina, and his voice quivered as he answered, “Everybody’s fine.”

Then why aren’t you?

Argentina backed out of the bathroom and sped to where she thought that Samhain’s room was- she hadn’t told her yesterday evening. But, after trying out three different doors and finding them either locked or occupied by an adult trying desperately to go back to sleep, she threw open Samhain’s door-

And her girlfriend was sprawled on the floor a few feet away, unconscious and just barely breathing, her head thrown back and two very prominent bloodstained holes on her chest.

“What...”

The crimson stain on the carpet around her body was too much for Argentina. She collapsed to beside the almost dead girl, collapsing in hysterics as she tried to wake Samhain up- shaking her body, shrieking her name, slapping her in the face... nothing worked, just made the same name shudder throughout the house slap after slap.

Samhain!

Samhain?

Samhain, god, wake up! Wake up!

Wake up...

Wait…

Feeling her chest begin to give into hyperventilating, she stood up, propping herself against the bed and trying not to stare at the travesty at her feet.

Anders looked remorseful in the bathroom over something, even if he wouldn’t admit it. Anders also had a gun at the toilet!

“ANDERS! YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Argentina bellowed, bursting out of the bedroom. She tore down the hallway into the bathroom, throwing open the door which Anders had closed in her absence.

“I didn’t do anything!” Anders held his arms up, trembling over his head. “I-”

“You did this!” she growled, her chest heaving. “You killed my girlfriend!”

“It was an accident!” he protested, backing up towards the shower. “Please, Argentina, I can explain-”

His eyes darted to the gun lying unattended on the toilet seat a moment before Argentina dove for it, and before he could push her out of the way, she’d already obtained it and was fumbling with it in her hands, trying to figure out how to hold it so that she didn’t accidentally shoot herself.

Maybe it would be best to call 911?

“Please, Argentina! I was possessed! Please let me explain-”

They’d be able to deal with the situation, and then you wouldn’t be throwing your life away so needlessly.

By this time, Anders’ legs were fully up against the side of the tub/shower combo. His arms were trembling, and a single shiny bead of sweat was rolling down his forehead.

“There still might be time to take Samhain to a hospital!” he pleaded.

Nah.

“I’ll see you in hell with the rest of the murderers, bastard.”

Argentina’s hands trembled as she squeezed down on the trigger. Her ears cracked for a moment, reeling back from the deafening boom of the shot. Anders stumbled backwards into the empty bathtub, faced with a bullet lodged into a chest for the third time that night.

What a pity there was only one bullet left.

What kind of a sadist are you, Argentina?

She dropped the gun, slowly stepping away as it clattered on the floor.

One who has condemned herself to hell, whether or not this man lives.

Amane, hearing the chaos, threw his door open. Seeing the scene- Argentina with an incredulous expression on her face, Anders clawing at the walls around him and trying to pull himself up- his pupils constricted and he almost fainted on the floor directly by his door.

“Argentina! What in the bloody hell-”

Anders released a grunt as he almost gained purchase on a safety rail in the shower, stained fingers slipping and throwing him with a wince back into the bathtub. The hole just to the right of his heart pulsed, beginning to paint the floor of the tub.

Amane pulled out his cell phone and swiped across the screen, dialing 911. Argentina, realizing that these were probably her last moments of freedom, kneed him in the ballsack. Not bothering to look over her shoulder as he dropped to the phone, groaning in pain as the operator came on the line, she sped down the staircase and abandoned the house.

Samhain was already dead- why should she waste precious moments in some kind of a last goodbye that her lover wouldn’t even remember? That she herself wouldn’t remember if the police caught hold of her?

I hope you know that you’ve just royally fucked things up, Argentina.

Her feet protested as they came into contact with the rough surface of the sidewalk leading into Amane’s backyard. His motion sensor must have been dead, because no lights came on as she crisscrossed through the damp grass of the neighbors’ backyards.

I know.

The blare of police sirens began echoing off of the hills as she stepped barefoot onto the street a few blocks away from Amane’s house. She dove behind a hedge as one of the patrol cars sped by, probably responding to Amane’s call- but none of them noticed her as they followed their leader.

The night sky above Argentina looked like a graveyard, she observed as she waited for the cars to pass through. A glimpse of every single star that ended but still burned on in in some other part of the galaxy.

I’m so sorry, Samhain.

Argentina poked her head out, making sure that no other emergency responders were approaching in the gradually growing morning light as she sprinted back onto the road. No curfews held her back, and nobody threatened to enforce them as she sped towards the sidewalks of the highway.

I know.

34

TUESDAY, DAY 12

Lucia tapped her fingers on the little table beside her as she lay on the couch. Her head lolled onto the pillows spread out behind her, cushioning her back as she doodled in her notebook with the other hand.

“Maybe we’ll get some good news about Samhain today,” her mother wistfully sighed, turning the TV on for the fifth time that day. It was only nine in the morning, but she’d already woken up Lucia three times before the girl gave up on trying to sleep in and joined the older woman in the living room upstairs.

Desperation had fueled the past few days for the mother- the moment that the police had alerted her that Samhain and Argentina had been spotted in the forest, Marsha Havstrom had been a desperate mess, perched in front of the TV and waiting for any kind of news to arrive about her missing child. During long stretches of monitoring, she was prone to yawning and slipping into a slumber wherever she was seated, waking up hours later and freaking out about possibly having missed important information.

Lucia flipped the pages, her breath catching for a moment as faded and smudged scrawls caught her eye. According to the date on the top, around three months ago, Samhain had been writing flash fiction on the very page that Lucia now held in her hands. A few hastily scribbled stars and flowers dotted the margins, signs of spontaneous boredom and an unreliable pen frequently out of ink with which to spill words onto the notebook paper.

I hope the trip was worth the trouble, Samhain.

The TV switched from news of refugee crises on the other side of the world and religious sightings- probably just mass hallucinations, although the very idea creeped Lucia out- to a commercial. Just from the opening chimes of the infectious jingle, Lucia knew to tune it out of her attention, but her foot still subconsciously tapped to the beat.

Taco Tuesday! The restaurant that’s only ever open on Tuesdays! And sometimes Leap Year Day if we feel like it.

The cell phone her mother had left in the kitchen rang, offering Lucia some respite from the cheery voice booming from the black television as the screen flashed to announce an incoming call. She got up off of the couch and headed to the small space, her mother snoozing, and swiped to answer.

Why’d they turn off caller ID?

“Hello?”

“Hello.” A stern male voice greeted Lucia on the other end of the line. “Is this Marsha Havstrom?”

“No, this is her daughter Lucia. My parents are very busy at the moment.” Busy napping, and I don’t dare wake them up. “Why are you calling us?”

“This is sensitive information, and I need to ensure that it’s delivered to a competent and mature adult.”

“Well, I’m sorry, sir, but my parents have been extremely emotionally fraught recently. They’re taking a much-needed nap. What do you need?”

The voice sighed. “All I can do without an adult present is express my condolences.”

“What?” Lucia’s hands trembled, threatening to drop the phone. “Why are you apologizing? What’s going on?”

The man didn’t bother with subtleties as he explained, “Your sister Samhain was brought in at 3:32 AM. She was pronounced dead at the scene.”

“What...?” Lucia tiptoed her way into her room, softly shutting the door. She slowly lowered herself onto her bed, her entire body trembling. “What are you talking about? My sister’s not dead. She’s not-”

“I’m sorry. The police investigation is still in its infancy, but what’s been determined so far is that she was definitely shot and murdered.”

“I...” Lucia took a deep breath, urging herself not to hyperventilate. “Can you call back in a few hours, please? I’m not the right messenger to be breaking this news to my parents.”

35

TUESDAY, DAY 12

The sun dipped lower and lower in the sky as Argentina ambled along the sidewalk. She’d been on her feet the entire day, entire towns and fields passing by her. But she feared with every single step of her burning feet that, if she stopped moving for just a second, she might find a home on the ground and never get back up again.

All sorts of vehicles passed by her on the highway, separated from her by only a simple concrete divider. Families going home from time spent up north zoomed by in silver vans, pulling trailers packed full of coolers and tents and other camping paraphernalia behind them. Single ladies enjoying the independent life zipped along on crimson motorcycles, long blonde hair billowing out and tickling their shoulders as they maneuvered around the more sluggish cars. Others of all mature ages and mixes passed by, but none of them took notice of the girl walking alone by herself and pushing the limits of the curfew.

Maybe the police haven’t told anybody about the search yet.

Argentina stopped her walk on the bridge before the exit on the right, which had degraded into a limp as a bruise forming on the bottom of her right foot was weeping. The waters below her rippled as they passed under the concrete structure and licked the support pillars, and she shielded her eyes from the sun as she gazed out to the horizon.

Samhain and I were here at this river once. But we were further upstream, and we stayed at the riverbank as we swam. My feet sank into the spongy mud, and Samhain tied seaweeds into my hair and pretended that I was some exotic mermaid luring her to her death.

I could jump off of this bridge now, and nobody would stop me. Swallowed up by the big blue and not having to worry about the boys in blue anymore.

Argentina stepped away from the safety rails, rubbing her eyes- which were beginning to burn and sting from the tears that had vacated her body already multiple times that day.

God, am I seriously having these thoughts?

In the back of her mind, she registered herself falling to the hard ground, shielded from traffic by the concrete dividers.

Come on, Argentina, pull yourself together. You can get through today.

Can I really, though?

Why did my life have to come down to this? I had so many plans for my future- college, moving out to an apartment, starting a life with somebody I loved more than myself.

But now all of that’s ruined. I’ll never be able to fulfill any of them. I’m left here, helpless and hopeless.

Feeling tears begin to run down her face and smudge the day-old makeup, she gripped the bars of the safety rails and pulled herself to a kneeling position. She hadn’t prayed in a long while- religion wasn’t as important to her as it was to her parents- but if the magical sky wizard was going to listen to her, she hoped that it was now.

Dozens of deities names passed through her whispering lips as she entreated them to intervene before she lost her mind and ended up killing herself in an insane moment. A chill ran through her right shoulder, sore from having to prop herself up to hide in a playground for an hour in the morning, and she looked up at the figure beside her.

It wasn’t a god materialized and come to her aide, as she’d hoped- it was a man she would have found handsome in a sane mind, somewhere around her age- a few years older, perhaps. Despite the fact that it was summer, he was garbed in a black coat... although, being that cold drafts were beginning to pour in and the sky was darkening like it was about to storm, a trench coat wouldn’t have drawn too much attention from passers-by.

“What’s wrong?” His coat billowed out around him as a startled Argentina almost collapsed to the ground again, catching herself at just the last moment. “It’s awfully late for a walk, don’t you think? And there are more peaceful places to stroll past than this noisy highway.”

Argentina brushed the dust and dirt off of her worn clothes.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“But it does!” He kneeled beside the girl, trying to make himself a bit less intimidating- although the opposite effect occurred, and Argentina began trembling and holding her arms close to her body. “You’re seeking a miracle, correct? A wish to be granted so that you don’t have to end your life?”

Argentina, apprehensive at first, nodded her head after a moment. She still avoided making eye contact with the man, unsure whether he was equally insane or just a predator wanting another victim.

“What do you have left to live for?”

Argentina’s eyes glazed over for a moment before she shook her head, tangled hair blowing in the wind that had picked up. “There’s nothing left. My girlfriend’s death has already been avenged. The police are coming for me.” She met the man’s eyes, her throat throbbing. “You’re one of them, aren’t you? Just waiting for reinforcements?”

“Anders Shew is the one who killed your girlfriend, correct?”

At the mention of Anders’ name, Argentina’s chest heaved, and she struggled to keep what little composure she had left. She pitifully nodded.

The man snorted, holding back laughter.

“He’s been resurrected. It’s been all for naught. Not the news you expected, huh?”

Argentina suffered a sharp uptake of breath, collapsing onto the pavement and curling up into a ball. “There’s nothing left,” she blubbered over and over again. “There’s nothing left, there’s nothing left, there’s nothing left-”

“Stop. You’re pathetic.” The man held out his hand, but Argentina didn’t take it, just continued crying. “You see this limb I’m holding out? Take it. I promise nothing bad will ever happen to you ever again.”

“You can’t make that promise.” Argentina looked up and pulled herself together, sitting normally. Her eyes still burned from the last of her tears, and her face flushed red. “I’m a goner. Just leave me alone.”

“You obviously have no idea who I am.” He brushed the hair out of his eyes with a smug smile growing on his face. He stood up and said, “My name is Bes Tavikka, and it’s your lucky day.”

“Congratulations, Bes.” Argentina’s lips quivered. “That doesn’t help me at all.”

“Oh, but I can! I can help you destroy Anders once and for all and get Samhain back! That’s what you want, correct?”

Argentina nodded, her eyes spacing out into the distance. “I want my old life back.”

Bes sighed. “I can’t change time or past actions, so I can’t make everything exactly like it was. But I know a flourishing place where you and Samhain can start again and make the life that I know that you really want to live.”

Argentina perked up, a spark of hope in her eyes for the first time that day. “Really?”

“Yes. There’s just one catch.”

Her mood fell. “What is it?”

“You have to abandon everything here on Earth and become one of my servants.”

The wind blew Argentina’s hair into her eyes, and she batted it away, trying to keep her eyes focused on Bes’. “Everything?”

“Parents, school, friends, possessions, the whole shebang. It won‘t be all despair and torture, though; very little, in fact. It’s not back-breaking physical labor, just a few tasks now and then. It’ll be easy.”

“But why do you need a servant? Surely you could just do it yourself?’

“It’s a give and take world, Argentina. Equivalent exchange. Ever heard of it?” He licked his lips. “I’m on a campaign to liberate my people from the government that’s making them stagnate into obsolescence, and you’re going to join me, because the only alternative is suffering in hell for an eternity.”

Argentina wiped her forehead. “I...”

“I need your help, Argentina. You’re a smart girl. Make the right decision now.”

“I...”

I don’t want to cause my family grief. But they’d grieve more if they had to look a murderer in the eye on death row.

“Alright, Bes. You win.” Argentina closed her eyes. “Where do we begin?”

“Lay down on the ground.”

Her eyebrows arched. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Bes pointed to the pavement behind Argentina. “Lay down.”

“I’m not having sex with you.”

“That’s not what I want. Please lay down,” Bes pleaded.

It began to drizzle as Argentina leaned back and settled onto the ground, feet just barely coming to Bes’. A raindrop landed near her eye, looking like a tear that she didn’t have the energy to shed anymore.

Bes towered over the body, holding his hands out. He commanded Argentina to close her eyes, which she did, and he sprinkled what felt like soft powdered sugar onto the eyelids.

“Any last words?”

“You’re creepy as hell.”

“That’s alright.” He murmured a long chant to himself in some kind of foreign language- Argentina thought that she could pick up a word she recognized here and there, but they faded away from her memory before she had the chance to understand them.

Why do I feel like I’m ripping my clothes?

Am I about to explode?

Her senses dulled, and she tried to open her eyes to see what Bes was doing- but no matter how hard she willed them to open, they stayed locked shut.

Bes, what in the world are you doing-

She didn’t get the chance to finish her thought before she puffed up from her body, laying so still on the ground and already beginning to pale- Argentina looked down at her hands, black smoke against the gray of the pavement, and passed her hands through her body. Nothing collided; nothing was touched or moved. She’d effectively become a ghost.

“Bes!” she shrieked, turning to the man who was now pulling a pendant out of his shirt. “What did you do?”

“I can’t be taking a body with me. Not where I’m going.” He released the pendant; a green marble swirling with smoke inside fell onto his chest. “Don’t worry. By tomorrow, you’ll be able to take a more physical form again.”

“What did you do to me?” she snarled.

“I exorcised your soul from your body,” he calmly explained, rubbing his fingers on the pendant. “And now we’ll be going home.”

Her eyes flickered to her body laying on the pavement, pajamas torn and wrinkled. It was nowhere near the funeral she’d wanted.

“Home?”

“Yes, home. All you need to do is touch the marble.” His fingers fell away from the pendant, now softly glowing. Dark storm clouds began forming above. “Quickly, now, or you’ll blow away and the soul collectors will find you.”

Argentina reached out one ethereal finger and tapped the marble. She tried to pull away, but it was almost like the fingertip had adhered to the glass surface- and her body began closing in on itself, dissolving into the green surface as Bes grinned wickedly.

The inside of the marble was almost like a large hamster ball once inside, and Argentina slipped and drifted to rest on the bottom. Other souls were there too, looking exactly like her- wispy forms, large cutouts in bulbous heads where eyes and a mouth used to be. But they were twisted and intertwined with each other’s dismal gray smoke, and each one sneered at the girl as she floated up to where the others were hanging about.

And as she brushed up against someone who she thought might have been one of her classmates- perhaps Selene?- her consciousness drifted away too.

36

WEDNESDAY, DAY 13

I am a piece of driftwood, lazily floating along a river. There’s a sun shining gently on me, warming me up as my back cools in the waters below.

Rocking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...

I am a clump of sea foam, riding the tops of the waves. I am a corpse of a dead mermaid, rejected by her lover and condemned to dissolve in the rivers for all eternity because I would not kill the one who spurned me. My sisters are grieving that I would throw my life away in such a tragic manner.

Rocking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...

I am a tangle of seaweeds, knotted together at the ends and bobbing above and below the surface. I am a crown that a lovesick teenage girl crafted out of boredom and tossed aside when her father’s voice called for her, suggesting that they go back home at that moment.

Rocking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth...

White and silence greeted Argentina in a haze as the dream slipped away from her. The light hit her eyes, muddled as they were, and immediately stung them- her instinct was to shield them with her hands, but her arms were rigid and immobile.

Where am I? she thought, trying to regain a grip on reality. There were ghosts all around me, and... and...

Maybe I was hallucinating Bes. Maybe this is all some kind of a sick joke, and the next thing I know, somebody’ll be pulling the “and it was all a dream” cliche out of their pants.

But if it was all a dream, where’s the crowd of family members and friends surrounding my hospital bed? Where’s the hospital bed?

Is this a plastic bag?

Argentina looked up. The top of the enclosure she was in bunched up at the top, like it had been opened before and a clip was pinched to the top of it to keep it closed.

Why am I in a plastic bag?

Argentina looked around her- to the best of her ability, that was, because her neck was incredibly stiff. All around her was nothing but a blank murkiness and a bright light somewhere beyond that.

Am I in a morgue, perhaps?

The next place that her vision drifted to were her feet- and her heart spiked up at the tangled mess that she could faintly make out. Past the wrappings that she felt loosely around her body, she was some pastel shade of purple, long gangly limbs protruding from her body. No breasts graced her chest, and from what she could feel from the outline of her body just beginning to filter into her mind, she had no semblance of a biological sex anymore.

Argentina’s arms loosened up and immediately shot out, clawing, scratching at the bag in a desperate bid to get out- but as she thought that a ragged nail had managed to break through, a beep sounded from above her. The entire bag, body and all, began moving forward in a straight line. A memory came back to Argentina of the graduation coats and gowns hanging up in the vast closets of her old high school- all hanging from the ceiling in plastic wrap, all in silence and disuse.

After the body bag had shifted about twenty feet, another beep sounded, and the clip disconnected from the rest of the bag. It was one continuous oval shape, Argentina observed, with no visible seams or another clue about how she had gotten into the damn thing. A pair of strong arms caught her- at least, that’s what she thought they were as the vague shape of a human was visible from beyond the thick plastic.

She settled onto a table or some other kind of long flat surface and wheeled into a much darker room, which she internally admitted felt much better on her eyes.

Why does light hurt so much? I’m not a vampire.

But then what am I?

The plastic bag tore open with a single swipe. Argentina’s back arched as she took in the first breath that she could remember since waking up in this strange new body. Bes towered over her, grinning like a madman- although his hands were passing furiously over his face trying to hide it.

“You look older, Bes,” Argentina rasped, coughing as she shakily pushed herself up to sit. Her voice warbled as Bes reached forward and stripped the thin wrappings from her naked body. “What happened to you?”

“I can take any semblance of age that I fancy to,” Bes explained, although he didn’t elaborate.

Argentina glanced around her. The room, from what she could tell, was completely sparse with only a single lightbulb hanging in the center to illuminate the space.

A mirror dropped into her lap, and Bes backed away from her. One glance into the glass surface- piercing green eyes, wispy black hair, white lines outlining creases on her face- and she scrambled away from the object and released an unearthly sound from the depths of her throat that could have made even the most hardened misanthropic hermit cry. It could have awoken a million babies from peaceful naps and send them wailing for their mothers. It could have cracked straight through Mount Everest, but it didn’t exist in this dimension.

“Why this form, Bes?” she hissed, biting down on her lower lip with pearly white fangs and squeezing her eyes shut. The mirror dropped to the floor, but it didn’t shatter or even dent a single bit. Her new lungs spasmed, feeling they could collapse at any moment like a freshly disturbed house of cards. “Why?”

“Over time...” Bes laid a hand on the hysterical girl, but she slapped his hand away before clawing at the skin on her chest. “You’ll learn how to shift into a human form, if that’s what you’d like. Like me. And you’ll be attractive too, far more than you ever were on Earth.”

Yeah, because that totally helps this freakish form that I’m in.

Argentina’s chest heaved, on the verge of hyperventilating- if that was even a thing that demons were capable of doing.

Come on, breathe, Argentina- you can survive anything-

No, I can’t.

One of Bes’ assistants popped out of the shadows, holding a glowing mess of a stick in his hands. Before Argentina could resist, Bes took her right arm and forced it to the table she was sitting on, palm up- and his assistant pressed the glowing hot rod to her skin, setting loose another shriek. But this one had more force behind it- grief at losing her girlfriend so suddenly, despair at the dead end she was now facing, rage at Bes and Anders and everybody else who had led her down the road to where she was now.

Bes and the assistant didn’t even so much as flinch at Argentina’s antics as the assistant pulled the stick away, leaving Bes’ symbol- a seven-pointed star fashioned with arrows and a small sigil in the middle space- freshly emblazoned on Argentina’s forearm. She collapsed onto the table, all the fight gone out of her. Her eyes flickered in and out of sight, red lines streaking across her vision.

Mother, I’m so sorry...

“Dylan, get me the white bucket.”

“Yes, sir.” Out of the corner of Argentina’s eye, the assistant- noticeably younger than Bes, although if the shifting thing was true, time was an illusion here- left the room. He came back a few seconds later with a pearly pail in his hands. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes, Dylan. Bring it here.”

Argentina felt a strong hand cup her jaw and force her face forward. Bes came into view and dipped his thumb into the pail, coming back dusted with an inky black ash. She remained motionless, her forearm still burning, as he smudged his thumbprint into the middle of her forehead.

“Welcome to hell, Rena.”

About The Author

VANE VANDER is both a person and an idea, concurrently existing on the internet and in the real world. Her exact location is unknown, as is her favorite flavor of lollipop and what album she listened to last night. Rumor has it she was last seen at mayvaneday.art.

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