Page 41 of Lotus

ZZIIIPPPP.

It’s a sound that has echoed in my ears thousands of times before, but never like this. It has never come straight from my own blood-soaked fingers.

The zipper slides up with ease, and I release the tiny clasp as my body shudders in nervous waves. My breaths are quick and muffled through the mask. I glance down at Bradford, who is unmoving, his head wound ghastly.

I need to get help. I’m his only hope.

There is brief hesitation as I look around my quarters, wondering if I should take my comics with me. They are all I have—my only solace.

But I know I’ll be back. I just need to locate Bradford’s allies and fetch a doctor. Bradford told me there are other survivors, just like us, scattered around the area, living in similar conditions. One of the allies provides our food source, so it’s imperative I track him down in case Bradford doesn’t survive—I’ll need to stock up on sustenance if I’m going to make it.

I try not to trip over the body as I stumble towards the ladder, my hands curling around the metal stair steps, my legs trembling as I pull my weight.

Glancing up through blurry eyes, I squint while making my way closer to the top. Darkness looms above me, both frightening and ominous, causing me to pause on the rickety staircase.

I can do this.

I force myself up the steps, into the unknown—into the terrifying world I’ve been sheltered from for seven-thousand-eight-hundred-and-seventy-six days.

Bradford explained that his own safety shelter was right beside mine, but when I make it to the top of the ladder and poke my head out, I am immediately confused. It appears I’ve climbed out of a hole under the floorboards of someone’s bedroom. There is a bed to my right and furniture to my left. There’s a nightlight, and a stack of books, and a large black screen on the wall flashing with images. There is a half-eaten carton of food beside the bed.

This room looks lived in.

I find myself baffled. Who do these things belong to, and how has this been right above me for all this time? This is certainly not what I had anticipated waiting for me on the other side of this hatch door.

Looking around with further inspection, I spot a very familiar pair of boots residing near the bedside.

Bradford’s boots.

This is… Bradford’s bedroom?

Why did he reside in comfort, while I was cold and alone down in the cellar?

My stomach feels sick inside, my flesh itchy with bewilderment, but I cannot dwell on this right now. I need assistance. I need to find the others.

Pulling myself fully out of the hole, I climb to my feet. I nearly stumble when the hatch door slams shut—a door made of the same wood planks as the rest of the flooring. A brilliant disguise to trick an enemy. They would never know I was down there.

I try to quiet my racing heart as I approach the exit door of the bedroom, which will surely lead me out into a frightening, new world.

Oliver Lynch is petrified, but I cannot be him right now.

I am the Black Lotus.

The Black Lotus can do anything.

They found him.

They found Bradford.

Only… his full name was Raymond Bradley Ford—he’d fed me an alias, along with hundreds of other hideous lies.

How could I have been so foolish? So impressionable? I’ve always prided myself on my knowledge and intellect. It’s been the one constant in my life; it’s the only thing I’ve ever been good for.

I trusted him. I believed him.

I looked into his almond-shaped brown eyes, and I sawtruth.

It seems I may be well-versed in literature and facts and futile information, but when it comes to the human condition, I am supremely ignorant.

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