Metamorphosis

Justin came to. He opened his eyes and was met with a solid canvass of steel-grey. The clouds. He lay there for just a moment, then sat up. Too fast. A throbbing pain invaded his brain and his face winced the hardest it ever had in all his pain-filled life. After a few breaths, he could make out the sound of a young kid sobbing nearby—Chris.

He looked around and found Chris sitting up against the Mongoose, streams of tears running down his face. Then, Justin suddenly remembered what happened before he woke up. It all came rushing back to him at the mere sight of the young boy. "Oh my God!" Justin yelled, running over to Pete.

His whole body was lifeless, not a hint of thought or emotion on his face. "Is he dead?" Justin asked, hesitant to hear the answer from Chris.

There was no answer, then Justin ran over to Chris and shook him about the shoulders. "Wake up, kid! Is he dead?!"

Chris picked his head up, his angry gaze meeting Justin's. "No." he said maliciously. "But he almost was."

"You hit me on the head." Justin said. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Don't ever thank me. I wasn't doing you a favor. I did it to save Pete's life, you fucking prick!"

Justin suddenly lost all the weight in his legs and stammered back before executing a half-controlled fall to the dirt, eyes ever on Chris the whole time. Justin lost all his nerve as Chris' unforgiving stare bored evermore into him. He looked away. "I didn't even know what was going on. I wasn't in control at all. Only now do I see it happening. It wasn't me!"

"Right." Chris said, mockingly. "It was the flower. What's next—'the devil made me do it'?"

"I'm serious." Justin got up and ran over to Pete once more. Chris followed him, a fuel canister still in his hands just in case. Justin scoffed. "Put it down, I'm not gonna do anything. And you couldn't take me if you tried."

Chris reluctantly relented. Though, he did not stray more than a meter away from his only weapon.

Justin knelt down next to Pete and rolled him from his fetal position. Justin gasped as Pete's face came into full view.

"Yeah, you fucked him up alright. Nice going, you fucking twat waffle."

"It's not that bad." Justin said. "He'll recover from this. He's been through worse."

"Oh yeah? How worse?"

"Try going three rounds with a Covenant death squad for a night. Then, you can talk."

Chris said no more.

"Pete, can you hear me?" Justin said. "Pete."

He shook him.

"What's going on?' A confused Pete replied. He was vaguely coherent, but far from his normal bearings. He was clearly delirious with that same smile on his face, like it was permanently etched on there. "Where are we? Why am I covered in dirt?"

"You had a hard fall." Justin said sheepishly. He avoided Chris' eyes for the moment. "You and me, kid, we got into a little disagreement. Pretty physical, but we're okay. Can you stand?"

"Maybe. Actually, I'd rather not. Where's the cot? Just get me to the cot."

Justin laughed. And Chris actually joined him in it, strangely to Justin's content. "We're a little too far to walk to the cot, bud. But I tell you what: if you can stand and get on your skis, we can rest it up at the city. Hot shower, Tylenol, shave, haircut, maybe even a drink if I pull the right strings. What say you to that?"

"…Fuckin'-A." Pete replied.

"Fuckin'-A it is!" Justin said, laughing as he helped stand Pete up.

-

"I thought you were gonna kill him." Chris said into the wind over Justin's shoulder.

The ride went on in relative peace as they closed distance to the city. It had taken a few moments to wake up Bill and Ken, but they eventually joined and skid behind. And it was a good thing Bill and Ken, especially Bill, did not witness the fight. In their current state, it might've sent them into a bad place. And it might've made Bill question his belief in the group, maybe even human nature as a whole…the way Justin was laying into Pete.

"I can't believe what that flower does, man." was all that Justin could muster in response. "I blacked out."

"We have to get rid of it."

"Well, yeah. Obviously."

Justin glanced over his shoulder, first at Chris and then to Pete and the other two. "How are they doing?"

"We should stop for a break. They look like they need it."

Justin complied and stopped. There was not much further to go. Any other day and Justin would continue on no matter what anyone had to say. But he was now in a debt after what had transpired a few klicks back. He dismounted the ATV after Chris. Pete was just a few meters back, taking off his gloves and rubbing his sore shins and thighs as they always did at break time. Justin extended a hand unto him, said, "No hard feelings, buddy?"

Pete stared at it for a moment. He smiled an instant later, a rare sight from him. "You mean to tell me that Reid…the Justin Reid…is offering apologies. Oh, you fuckin'-A bet your ass I'm gonna take it."

"Well…" Justin said, his bare hand still held aloft "…take it!"

"No. I'm gonna wait just a little longer so I can milk this for all it's worth."

"I'm gonna take it away at the count of three, douche-bag."

"And I'm gonna wait until your arm gets heavy."

"One."

"I know it's getting heavy."

"…Two."

"You're gonna drop it before three."

"…Thr—"

Pete reached out and snatched his hand before Justin could retract it. Pete shook it up and down for both of them. "Three."

Justin smiled. "Yeah, happy now?"

"You know the answer to that."

"Right." He smiled unto the spiteful plains, as if smiling into the mouth of a monster. "Is everyone done? Can we get going now?"

-

"Man, you guys are fucking weird." Chris said as Justin darted off once more. They were a mere klick away from the city outskirts.

"Drastic experiences drastically bring you closer to your friends."

"Where did you hear that?"

"A wise man."

"Solomon, I bet. That's the only wise man around here. And Bill, too."

"I've said it before, Chris, you are one intuitive bastard. I think you'll do just fine at Traxus IX."

"Eh." Chris said.

The rest of the ride went on in silence, until they passed through the outer sanctum, through the tunnel, and finally into the inner courtyard.

-

Justin and Chris dismounted. The three skiers snapped out of their bindings, carrying their equipment as they walked towards the main bay doors of the factory floor. They parted slowly like Pete walked. They entered and were met with the same scene they had witnessed during all their time at Traxus IX. Dreary white light high above, endless conveyor belts with grimy and unrefined metal scraps strewn all over them, and zombie-like workers slaving away as usual. Instantly, Justin and those with him assumed the appropriate mental state that safeguarded one's sanity in such a place. They became zombies themselves. You dared not work hard; you'd only be rewarded with more of the same. It never changed.

But today was a day much different than all other days. Except for Chris.

Justin was first in, followed by Chris and everyone else. They stowed what few personal belongings they owned and sauntered over to a work station. Justin claimed a space at the MF inspection station and quietly sat for a moment. After staring off into space, he switched on a powerful, downward-looking UV lamp. He slowly retrieved a 200X magnifying monocle and began his inspections. And though no one would notice it, there was a lot on his mind. He stole a glance about the bay: nothing out of the ordinary, not even Jim Carsa hoping to make an unwanted appearance. But Carsa was the least of his worries now.

Ever since this voice entered Justin's head, he hadn't felt right at all, both physically and mentally. The flower was surely the culprit. But how on Traxus IX was a voice stuck in his head?

He knew the sound of his own voice and this was not it. Presently, it was barely audible, below even a whisper, but surely there, tugging at his wits. Every time an overhead light pierced his eye, every time a stranger glanced his way or every time a metal shard grazed his skin, the voice would intensify. It knew him all too well.

-

Justin left for a break room at mid-shift.

Normally, he could go twelve or more hours of work just fine and not even grab a snack. But today was a day unlike any other. This voice ebbed and flowed in his conscience—in and out, in and out, like the swelling undertow beneath a continental shelf. Though just a whisper melded in with the background hum of machinery at the moment, it had grown unbearable. He thought about seeking help, maybe talking to someone, but they'd probably think he was just crazy. Suck it up, they would say. This is Traxus IX; no one gives a shit if you're sad in this world.

At any rate, he walked on over to one of the rooms behind one-way mirror glass. He needed a change of pace, maybe. Something to take his mind off the voice, for it found a way inside his head despite how busy he kept himself with the day's duties. He reached for the door, opened it…and found Pete Barker sitting down at a table with head in hands. Was he sleeping? Justin wouldn't have been surprised.

But no. He was resting. His eyes were open. Justin only caught the side of his face, but he could clearly tell something about Pete was amiss. His cool and smug gaze was off. Was it just Justin's current state of being? Did it have to do with the scuffle the two of them got into earlier? Justin wondered if Pete remembered any of it, and if he did, would he hold it against him?

"What's up, Pete? Needed a break?"

Pete picked up his head and looked squarely at him.

Now Justin could see it—the haunted gaze that Justin himself had felt ever since he awoke. Just as quickly as Pete saw Justin, though, he panned away, maybe a look of regret behind his eyes from what Justin could gather. Was Pete feeling the same as Justin?

Reid couldn't jump to any conclusions yet. He was still far too inebriated to even perform basic arithmetic. How could he assume anything about anyone at this point?

"Not in the mood to at least answer me?"

"Fine." he said annoyingly. He looked back up to Justin, still standing stoic over him "…I guess."

"What are you doing?"

"Taking a break, like you said."

"Long fuckin' day, eh?"

Pete nodded and continued staring off into space immediately after, squinted eyes and parsed lip as he zoned out in the quiet of the break room. All to himself.

Justin studied Pete discretely for a moment, then said, "I've been feeling pretty shitty ever since I woke up. How about you?"

He nodded again, seemingly annoyed every time Justin broke silence.

Justin took yet another moment to scrutinize Pete's exterior. He then said, "And I've been hearing things—"

Pete suddenly jerked his head in Justin's direction, a plea in his eyes, but no answer. He looked back to the surface of the table in front of him.

"I know that ten years here has made us pretty tough." Justin said. "...but if there was something on your mind, you could tell me."

Pete waited a whole minute to reply, merely an instant before Justin decided to leave the room. But he played it tough. "We have to get to Solomon's."

"What makes you say that?" Justin asked, confused.

"Maybe he could help us feel better, you know? He knows all about plants and shit. I think we might've went too far this time."

"Just what is it you think he can do for us?"

"I don't know," Pete said defensively, "come up with some shit to put in our lungs that'll neutralize the shit in our lungs."

Justin chuckled. "Nice try. Really, I am not trying to fuck with you, but all Solomon does is determine if shit is okay to smoke. I seriously doubt if he'd be able to help us."

"But he's a chemist! All the toys he's got in his place!"

"He may have some cool toys and know a few tricks, but let's just say he's not exactly M.I.T. material here."

"Well, then I'm going alone. Because I feel like shit and I want something to make this go away. Unless you know something I don't!"

"No, I don't. Can't you just deal with it like everyone else?"

"Hard to…when it's always there." Pete sobbed into his sleeve.

Though no one could see the two of them, Justin didn't want Pete exiting the break room like this. It might invite trouble, like vultures encircling a dying beast. Justin looked around the room, then out the window.

"Alright, we'll go to Solomon's. We'll roll out to the igloo, get sleep, and then leave for Solomon's first thing."

"Good."

They stood together.

-

Afternoon had come. After what seemed like a double shift, the work day had ended. Not too long from now, night would be prepared to fall over the barren, yet hostile plains all over again. Justin acted.

"Everyone get your shit ready. We're going home."

No one answered, but everyone understood and moseyed over to the bay doors.

Once everyone was suited up and ready, Justin pointed the Mongoose on a vector straight out of the inner courtyard and into the dark, yawning tunnel. Procedurally, everything was fine. They were cleared by the guards and they left the cityscape.

Once back at the igloo after the ride across the plains, Justin immediately dismounted. Not wasting a single stride, he proceeded to the stolen pallet of water around back and snagged as much as he could from it. He paced his way back to the atrium where everyone had already taken up their places. They were ready for sleep before another long ride to Solomon's. Justin cracked open a bottle and shot it down the hatch. After a few swift gulps and a breath thereafter, someone broke the silence. It was Pete. And everyone was still standing and listening.

"I think we're doing the right thing by going to Solomon's."

"Whatever." Justin replied.

"It's not like THI has a good health plan."

"They don't have a health plan."

"I know."

"Whatever. Look, everyone, let's just go to bed. We'll do another outing to Solomon's in the morning."

Justin immediately claimed the couch thereafter, stretching his feet over the far armrest. Moments went by as everyone went to their places of rest, Justin's posture growing more and more slack as his body comformed to the couch's contours. The light was still on and it shone into his half-shut eyes. He knew that eventually someone would shut it off. That was the unspoken rule: last one in or out hits the light. He was almost asleep when Chris emerged from the heater room. The boy strolled in and sat down in the dirt, wiggling his bottom to make a soft depression. It was then that Justin noticed something odd.

Chris took out a book from his breast pocket, opening it to about the middle. The cover was opened to full spread as Chris clutched it in both hands, the entire breadth of it looking Justin dead in the face. The spine and both the front and back cover were wrapped in a swath of large-scaled leather painted in a deep, lustorous red that looked more like blood the way the light glared off of it. It was an oddity in itself that the leather had maintained its pigmentation after all these years.

"I've never seen that book before." Justin said.

Chris marked the page with something unseen and looked up to meet Justin's gaze. "Found it in the bottom of the pile. Good book, you know."

Justin raised his chin at the boy. "What's it about."

"It's this fantasy novel about all these people from different lands, some very far away from one another. So these people, they all start having these dreams, okay? Like...visions."

Feigning interest, Justin started to fall back asleep. "Okay. Special dreams for special people."

"Except this is like a whole bunch of people having the same dream. They're all having this dream that they should go to this one place. They don't know why or anything, but they just have this feeling that they have to go there."

Justin's eyes opened again. He tilted his head up, looking straight at Chris. "Like they've been summoned."

"Yes, exactly." Chris replied.

"Do they know? Do they know they're all having the same dream?"

"No, that's what's so cool. They all think it's just them, that maybe they're like...going crazy or something so they don't want to admit it."

"They don't want to admit they're hearing things and seeing things." Justin said, sitting up now, his posture totally erect. "But they're not crazy, are they?"

"No, it's real. It's really happening."

"It is happening, isn't it?" Justin said. "Something larger than themselves. But they're just not ready to hear it."

"Yeah, but then later they do. So if you're gonna read this, I don't want to spoil it."

"You have to let me read that book."

Chris' mouth dropped open. "But...but I was reading it."

"I mean...you're only halfway through it so you won't be done any time soon. Let me start on it some time tomorrow."

Chris frowned. "Okay, I guess we can take turns or whatever."

"Thanks, kid."

"Yup."

Justin slowly wound down and eventually went to sleep.

-

Justin awoke in the middle of the night.

This didn't usually happen. He often slept quite well. There was usually nothing worth waking for.

But he heard some heavy rustling coming from another room. Any other night, and it would've simply been one of the others getting some water or relieving themselves. But Justin wasn't taking any chances ever since the group came down with this 'affliction'. He rose from the couch.

He turned on a fluorescent light overhead, its ghostly-white haze filling the cold room. He could see that everyone, minus Pete, was here and fast asleep. But the rustling and the piercing glow of the light now woke up Chris.

"What's going on?" Chris said groggily, pawing at his own eyes.

"Nothing. Just stay put."

"What's that noise?"

"Stay put." Justin ordered.

Chris complied with a frown and Justin set off further into the igloo. It got colder for every meter progressed, every footstep accomplished. And the only sound was that of the noises that woke him. The heater is off, Justin thought. Why would Pete shut off the heat?

Not that it mattered terribly much, for the heater was getting replaced soon for a better one. Still, why shut it off?

Justin reached the door to the heater room. The rustling was louder now as he drew nearer. He glanced at the door seam near the floor: there was no light on inside. What was Pete doing all alone, in the dark, causing this amount of racket?

Justin nudged two fingers on the door to slowly open it. He peered through the crack he made, but couldn't see anything. He looked back over his shoulder at Chris—still tucked away in his sleeping bag and eyeing Justin warily. "Turn the light off." Justin ordered.

Chris stood up, letting the fabric around him fall to the ground, and reached for the light switch. All fell to darkness. Justin peered back into the heater chamber and could just barely make out the outlines of Pete's silhouette. He was standing, his back leaned up against the vent column that stretched bi-directionally—it started from somewhere underground, spanned through the igloo and then finally up to the ceiling where the vent hood was.

"Is he having a smoke?" Chris whispered.

Justin waved him off and tried to let his eyes adjust to the dark.

A moment later and Justin could make out the whites of Pete's eyes. They were wracked with both pain and fear simultaneously. Justin acted.

He threw the door open and switched on the light. Pete was convulsing violently as he stood against the vent pipe. A few drops of blood had collected at his feet and stained the metal floor. Justin rushed over to him and placed his face directly in line with Pete's. "What's wrong?!" Justin shouted.

There was no answer from Pete, just pain and blood and tears. He wasn't even breathing.

"What the fuck is going on?" Justin shouted.

Then, everyone in the igloo was awake and came rushing over to the scene, crowding in the doorway.

Justin sidestepped around Pete to see what it was that was hurting him. "Step away from the pipe!" Justin said to Pete. But Pete didn't respond, just kept on shaking and bleeding.

Justin immediately wrapped his hands over Pete's shoulders and pulled on his torso to get him free. There was no hope of it, though. He was practically glued to it. "Give me a hand!" Justin shouted to the rest.

They all darted towards them and grabbed any part of Pete they could, yanking on him with all their might…until he finally budged free. Pete's limp body fell face first to the floor, barely saved from concussion by two or three of the rescuers. The center of his back was a bloody mess. Justin barely missed it, but he saw what had grabbed a hold of Pete: some sort of arachnid with long, fleshy tentacles. It skittered back down into the pipe immediately. Justin walked over to it as the others stayed back and tended to Pete. Some of the grating had been twisted and mangled where the creature attacked from. "What the fuck?" Justin whispered.

"What?" Chris asked.

"There's no way something that small could—"

"—Pete's not moving!" Ken shouted.

Justin pushed everyone aside and knelt down next to Pete. He watched for rises and falls in his chest—nothing. He took Pete's pulse at the wrist—nothing. "You:" Justin said, pointing at Ken, "start CPR. I'm going to get some water."

"Okay!" Ken shouted adrenally. He immediately went to work on Pete, desperately trying to recall the techniques of cardio-pulmonary resuscitation that were seldom used in his mind.

Justin ran outside as fast as he could. He ripped away some of the plastic wrap draped over the pallet and retrieved as much water as his arms could carry, and ran back inside. Before he could even clear the atrium, everyone was running out, more panicked than they ever were. "What the fuck are you doing?"

No one stopped for Justin, they all just said, "RUN!!"