Page 24 of Envious Of Fire
If he is really lucky, it’s all a lie, and God and the Devil and everything in between is just made-up to keep humans in line. This place is no Great After, it’s merely a prison, and someday, he may know something outside of it.
All these realities sound wonderful, sound horrible, sound like nothing at all, except for maybe ideas from a storybook.
The door clicks. It’s a simple sound, but it is one that every resident here relishes with great and terrible delight. Kaleb puts a hand to his door and pushes it open freely. The others in hishall are already making their way. He keeps his head bowed, always moving aside for the more aggressive Bloods to go first. Kaleb learned years ago not to put up a fight or invite attention. The more invisible you can be in this place, the best. Keep your head down. Make your way with calm but focused intention. The greyish maze of halls gives way to several bigger chambers, such as the library, two commons, the shorter halls that lead to specific work areas where only certain designated Bloods are allowed, the main cafeteria and two smaller ones, with short round tables and metal chairs that creak when you sit in them, and something they call the gym, and the shower chambers.
Kaleb takes a left past the entrance to the kitchen and finds the less-used cafeteria, which many call the pipe room for the sewage pipes running across the wall. The stench is countered with plants and sprigs of lavender, but is present nonetheless, rendering the space uninviting for most. Blood 987 sits in the corner, foot bouncing in place. They all wear the same greyish outfits—long pants, short-sleeved shirt, leather slippers—but some Bloods modify their outfits for self-expression, such as with 987, who tore off the sleeves of his shirt, showing more of his slender sculpted arms and time spent in the gym, his warm olive complexion, his confidence and individuality. Upon seeing Kaleb, his foot bounces twice as fast as he flags him over. The other tables are empty. They should be alone until people start spilling over from the other more desirable eating areas.
Kaleb slides onto a chair, but before he can even speak, 987 is on him. “There’s a plan, 1025, arealfucking plan this time.”
Kaleb covers his nose, leans forward, listens.
As 987 describes everything, his bright eyes burn brighter with inspiration. He keeps running a hand through his short, dark curls of hair, strands falling in all directions. A few times, Kaleb’s mind wanders, lost in the details of 987’s energy and confusing explanations. This isn’t the first time 987 has becomeobsessed with an escape plan, but it’s certainly one of his more elaborate ones. How many more will Kaleb have to hear about before people like 987 stop trying to escape? All plans fall to pieces before they even begin. Kaleb takes part in none of them, thinking them all to be traps.
It’s a moment before Kaleb realizes 987 stopped talking. He clears his throat, shifts in the seat. “Oh.”
987 stares at him. “Oh? That’s all you gotta say?”
“I just … I mean …” Kaleb picks at his fingernails. “It’s just that the last time someone planned an escape …”
“Shh!” 987 flings his hands out to cover Kaleb’s mouth as he inspects the room with his eyes. Of course they’re still alone. He lowers his voice to nearly a squeak. “This isn’t like the last time. We have arealshot of getting outta here.”
There is little Kaleb can do to talk 987 out of it. Whenever he’s got his mind set, there’s no unsetting it. “But—”
“You don’t understand. Even 77 is part of it. 77! He’s got 100 wrapped around his finger. With the two of them, we can take on the upstairs. Plus the one who works in the infirmary. How many is that now? Six, with you and me and 303?”
“303 is in on this, too?” asks Kaleb, voice sinking.
“Hey, don’t worry, I know 303 is a handful, but he’s useful. And that means his crazy smart girlfriend 304 is also in. That makes seven. Come on, man, we all have to do this or it’ll fall apart. Power in numbers. I told 77 you were already onboard.”
Kaleb nearly flies from his seat, stunned. “But I’m not!”
987 hushes him again, grabs his sleeve and yanks him back down, then scoots close to him, face in front of Kaleb’s, breath reeking and soured with anxiety. “You know what people think of us high numbers. We are celebrities here. Never even visited the blood donation room upstairs, up that elevator. Haven’t you wondered what it looks like up there? I heard it’s fuckingmagical. Bright green walls. Some Bloods even work as nurses.Like, maybe ten or twenty of them. One of those nurses is in on it, too. We’re getting out, 1025, finally,out-out.” Kaleb tries to pull away, but 987 keeps pulling him closer. “Don’t be afraid, man, this plan is foolproof. We’ve been studying the schedules of the Blood nurses for months now, down to the second, man, it doesnotwaver. You should be more excited!”
Kaleb’s voice is small and thin. “I feel like something bad is going to happen. To all of you. I don’t want to … to lose you.”
987 seems to find that funny. “Aww, you’ve grown attached to me, huh? Are we best friends now after all this time?” He slaps a hand onto Kaleb’s back, startling him. “Hey, we can still be best friends … out there in therealworld. I run a bakery in San Diego. Well, my brother does, Matteo, hopefully still does after all these years, depending on a few things. You can work with us. I will get you a job. You can live with me and my big brother. He will be so relieved I’m back. I bet he misses me like crazy.” At once, 987 chokes up, eyes watery with emotion. He presses a fist to his lips, fights it back. “C-Can’t wait to see him again.”
Kaleb peers over his shoulder, hearing chatter in the halls outside. The other cafeterias are filling. It will be over an hour now until Kaleb can eat, considering how long and slowly the serving lines run when it’s this busy. He really wishes he had eaten first before meeting 987.
“You want to get out, don’t you?” asks 987. His face softens. “You haven’t … been out of this place since … since decades ago, huh? I forgot it’s been so long for you, longer than a lot of us.”
Kaleb’s stomach groans at him, restless. He remains silent.
“Lost count? Fuck, I forget about it sometimes. You’ve been here your whole life long. That’s gotta …” 987 chokes up again. “That’s gotta eat away at your soul, man. But hey, isn’t that all the more reason to get out? 77’s rooting for you. He roots for no one. Bring your violin,” he says suddenly, eyes brightening. “Actually, no, leave it. I’ll buy you a new one in the real world.I’ll buy youten. You and me, out there living our best lives. Don’t let this place be your coffin. Fight your way out. I’m knocking on your door the night it’s happening. It’ll be one of these nights, my friend, maybe even tomorrow. Be ready.”
“987 …”
“Be ready,” he whispers, notices the first few faces coming into the pipe room, then slips from the table while wiping away his tears. Kaleb stays there awhile, staring at his friend’s back, his heart hammering with anxiety, picking at his fingernails.
He’s still thinking about it hours later when he’s back in his cell, sitting on the very edge of the bed, violin pulled out from underneath to tune the strings, now and then giving a stroke of his bow to test the notes, or a pizzicato pluck of his fingers. His mind is stuck on the urgent, almost childlike excitement in the eyes of his friend 987, how he heeds no danger, how he acts like those above them are merely some stuffy parents they’re trying to outsmart so they can sneak out into the night to party.
Do none of the others realize they are being kept here by gods and goddesses?
They will not be so easily outsmarted.
And any number of Bloods attempting an escape will be no match for even a single one of them upstairs. Kaleb doesn’t care that the brash and forceful 77 is leading the plan, nor that the hulking 100 is joining him. He remembers one time in the pipe room, perhaps a whole year ago, when a similar plan was being discussed, and 987 excitedly let slip his real name—a rule none of them are allowed to break—but either no one noticed or no one cared, because the name was never uttered again. Kaleb doesn’t even remember it. 987 will be his name, always.
Just as 1025 will be Kaleb’s name, forevermore.
