《The Participants》Chapter 12
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Zack
Iteration 144
Flames licked the soles of his bare feet. The pain it brought struck in waves, alternating between excruciating and unbearable. Zack struggled against the duct tape binding his legs in place to the metallic frame, but his struggles did no good. His screams were equally futile. He continued both anyway.
The heating ring of a water heater provided the fire. In a twisted way, he appreciated the technical skill necessary to construct the torture device. The woman named Erik had converted the ring to run on propane, which burned hotter than natural gas. She had welded a heavy-duty weight bench to the fire ring and braced everything with steel bars. The roll of duct tape trapping him in place held him better than rope.
Erik watched him throughout like a master technician at her craft. She leaned forward to apply the welding torch in her hands to his big toe, causing the nail to snap in half from the incredible heat. The pain struck a split-second later, flaring out to consume his entire leg, so intense Zack wouldn't have known it originated in his toe if he hadn't seen it.
“Remember I promised you something special, Hess? It should be here soon. You haven't forgotten that we took Elza first, have you?” Erik tightened the knob on the propane tank, killing the flames. She waited until his flesh returned to perfect health. “I will torture Elza for a long time after you are buried. I will twist her mind until she hates you. The cute little love story ends in tragedy, Hess.”
“I'm not Hess.” Zack's voice broke.
“You wish you weren't.” Erik took out her phone and began to type. “Every few Iterations the Creator comes up with something that just blows my mind. I thought the texting craze was ridiculous at first, but now I'm hooked. You want to ask a question but don't want to get sucked into a conversation? Send a text. If we go back to the stone age next Iteration, I don't know how I'll deal.”
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A bleep came from her phone. “They're bringing her out, lover-boy.”
Zack remained silent. With a detached rationality, he knew he could not escape. The other Observers had every advantage – superior numbers, lifetimes of skills, weapons, mobility. Convincing them he was not the renegade Observer they sought seemed the only way out of the situation, but they responded to his protests with anger when they responded at all. Bearing their punishments until they buried him alive was the only other option.
The thought of being trapped in the dark for years, possibly centuries, sent a chill to his core. He didn't think he could survive such a thing. Yet, deep down, he wondered if he deserved what they did. He had given seven million dollars to charity. He had married a woman. He had forced a man to murder him and landed on the national news. It was a long list for just five years of life. The Creator might be best served with Zack interred in an unmarked grave.
Why would He create someone like me?
The barn door squealed as it opened. The black man called Drake and the man called Ingrid dragged Bridgette into the barn before securing the door once more. Bridgette moved forward in a daze, arms bound behind her back.
“I've had some time to work with both of you,” Erik said. “But now comes the real test. I want the two of you to decide which one deserves to sit in the electric chair overnight. I'll begin accepting nominations . . . now.”
Bridgette looked to the ground. The silence stretched.
“Really? No one wants to volunteer a name? I thought there would be a race to self-sacrifice. What do you think, Elza? Should it be you? If no one can give me a name, then I'll have to work out some form of couple therapy.”
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Bridgette looked at him suddenly. “This is your fault.”
I don't want it to be me, Zack thought. “Take her,” he said aloud.
The flash of anger on Erik's face disappeared behind a mild smile. “So much for true love. What do you think, Elza?”
Bridgette shook her head. “Take Hess instead.”
The woman named Erik pulled her tazer and blasted Bridgette. “The chair is in the basement of the house. Get her strapped in. I'll be right behind you.”
When the others were gone, Erik seized his face and stared into his eyes. “Why did you do it?”
“I'm not who you think I am. I don't care what you do to that woman.”
Erik considered him for a long moment. “I could almost believe you. But I don't. You're not going to escape me. Not in this life and not in the next one. I have a new calling, Hess. I'm going to be the Creator's enforcer.”
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Cecily's blade swung, hitting its mark as always. The man's arm fell to the cold grass of the prison with a familiar thud. He let out a blood curdling scream. A warning to the rest. Stay away, the Hunter is here. That's the name they'd given her, the Hunter. After she cut off the man who tried to rape hers masculinity, they stayed away. She'd made it clear anyone who tried to touch her would be hunted and slaughtered. Cecily kneeled down, pushing the man's face into the dirt so she could use his back as a seat while she trifled through his belongings. "You're hurting my ears," she told him, no remorse in her voice. "Quiet down before I really do kill you."The man but his lip, well aware that she wasn't lying. Sobs shook him, making for an uncomfortable seat. She, however, didn't particularly feel the beed to kill him. It happened, not often, but it did. "Oh, hush up," she hissed, taking out a bag of rations with her metal hand, "it doesn't hurt that bad."With her good, human hand, she dropped the plastic bag of food into her own bag. She pushed up, off the man back. As she was about to walk away, bag slung over her shoulder, brushing against her autumn colored braid, she turned back to him. "Consider yourself lucky," she said, no hatred in her voice, there never was. "Consider yourself lucky that you didn't do anything stupid. And even luckier if one of the scum bagged criminals in here feel a little light in their hearts and help you. Consider yourself luckier if you die there."With that, her old black and white Nike sneakers carried her off into the brush of the huge prison.
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