Page 21 of The Cult

“And go where, huh?” I stood chest to chest with him; amusement and something I couldn’t decipher flashed in his eyes.

Tobias’s breathing sped up. “Anywhere but here.” His stare bounced between my lips and eyes.

I needed to calm down, the whirlwind of emotions from today was causing my head to pound. “I can’t go yet,” I said, peeling myself off him.

“Why not?”

“I just can’t, okay.” He might be Dad’s best friend, but I didn’t trust him. Especially not now. He was one of Orcus’s men, after all.

One of the guards—the one Tobias was talking to earlier—entered the bathroom, eyes roaming. “Toby,” he called when he spotted us.

“Toby, huh?” I chuckled.

“Zip it, boy. For your sake,” Tobias said, barely moving his lips.

“We gotta show you to your room,” the guard said.

“I’ll be out there in a moment, Sterling,” Tobias replied. Sterling nodded and exited.

Show you to your room. That was odd. Was Tobias actually staying here?

“I’m coming back at midnight,” Tobias whispered. He turned his back to me before I had the chance to ask: what the fuck is going on?

Eleven: Tobias

Isat on a cold metal chair waiting for Sterling to go away so I could figure out my next step, but he was in no hurry. He hummed, making his way inside the bedroom—if you could call this stark eight-by-eight room that. “They gave you one of the nicer ones.” This is nice? The walls were a lifeless shade of gray, adorned with cracked paint and scuff marks. It was dreary; desolate. “What do you think about your room?”

“Cozy.” I scanned the small quarters for any signs of surveillance cameras or tracking devices, breathing a sigh of relief when nothing obvious stood out. What you couldn’t miss was the acrid smell of disinfectant and bleach, making every breath feel like a bitter reminder of my childhood when I used to clean up blood stains on the floor every time Father beat the shit out of other drug dealers. There were only two ways to get on his list: get caught dealing or stealing. “That’ll be you if you don’t fucking learn,” he’d told me once while scrubbing the pool of blood of one of the teenagers from the block. I tried to help the guy, but Father grabbed me by the ear when he saw me propping him up. “That’s not your fucking job. Clean up or you’re next.”

I rose to my feet, rushing to the only window to let fresh air cleanse the harsh memory this small confinement had dragged to the surface. I tugged on the handle, but it wouldn’t budge. The lever was stuck in a locked position.

“Windows here aren’t designed to open,” Sterling said.

“How do you get air around here?” I asked, maintaining my composure by staving off the panic attack that was threatening to make an unwelcome appearance.

“From those.” He pointed at two small white vents on the ceiling.

That wasn’t good. There were few things that could bring me to my knees, and two of them happened to be present in this room: confinement and the smell of chlorine. Cold sweat dripped down the sides of my neck. My vision went out of focus. Breathe, Tobias. This will pass. My senses frantically searched for something to divert my mind away from my triggers. I stared at a water damage stain on the wall; its pattern resembled a horse floating on clouds. Next to it was a mismatched drywall plaster covering three pits the size of bullet holes. I zeroed in on the sound of the ticking clock hanging on the wall, every beat of the second hand bringing me to the present.

Once grounded, I seized the chance to get Sterling out of my hair. “I’m kinda spent,” I said, grabbing the stack of clothing I assumed was mine from his hand. “Do you mind if I take a little break?”

“Of course,” he answered. “I’m sure you’re tired with the morning you had. Here is your key.” He handed me a black coin-sized fob attached to a single key. “This’ll open all the automatic doors, and the key is for the gates.”

“Thanks,” I said, ushering him toward the door.

He seemed to get the hint, as he exited the room without any hesitation. “Oh, before I forget,” he said, turning to face me. Damn it. I should’ve closed the door faster. “Here.” He handed me a worn-out radio with faded digits. “Call if you need anything. Whatever you need.”

“Got it,” I said.

“I’ll give you your schedule tomorrow.”

I was smarter this time and shut the door before Sterling could find a reason to stick around. I grabbed one of the black shirts from the top of the pile of clothes and wrapped it around my knuckle. I peeked through the rectangular glass pane on the metal door to check the narrow hallway, waited a couple of seconds, and when I was sure that no one was around, I punched the window. The center of the glass cracked from the first blow, and the pieces loosened after the second. Slowly and carefully, I pried the glass from the frame, starting from the top to keep it from falling onto the floor and risking any noise. My shoulders eased when the cool breeze fanned my face. After a few minutes, the smell that was my kryptonite dissipated.

I retrieved my cell phone and pressed Archer’s number.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this, man,” Archer said after I gave him the rundown of what had happened since we parted ways that morning. I shared his sentiment. “Let us come over there. We can take care of this once and for all.”

I peeked my head out, inspecting the hallways. As much as I loathed being stuck here, I had to be real with him. “Not right now.” I covered the mouthpiece before whispering, “Orcus seemed to buy my story, so I’m fine.”

---