Chapter Twenty

     "Open the door! Go, go!" Peter demanded. He lifted Linus to his feet just as a spike came to pierce his skull.

     "The light!"

     "Just go!" The hasty rebuttal threw Vint to feel out the handle; tearing it open just as the wall was to close over it.

     Screaming. It is what tore him awake again. Vigorous and wishing for death. Only now, the growling bark of closing walls joined the wail. Linus cried out, grabbing his ears. "Shut up!" He begged. The world was dark. Getting darker. Screams, panic, his breast filling with stones. His knee throbbed--he had fallen--screams! Screams!

     Screams quieted to muffled whimpers. It was better. He could relax. The grumbling didn't bother him, it soothed the aches and pains throughout his body. He lay down to listen. Opening his eyes he was met with the sight of his quiet friend.

     Peter stared at him funnily. His face was ugly with the shadows that fell over him; his mouth ajar. Was he breathing? Linus watched, curious--guiltless. There was no sign of death. No, there was only his face. And the soothing grumble. Droning. Quiet. Quiet.

     Screams.

     Linus sat, tearing his head this way and that. His friends were screaming again, on their knees and crawling towards the door. Peter had Linus by the collar; it was a loose attempt at dragging him along, Linus hadn't moved an inch. Now he did. Stirring from the floor he watched his friends, trying to catch up with himself. They barely noticed him. Crying. Screaming. Having come to the realization that they were getting away from something, Linus tried to help. But, he wasn't sure what they were running from.

     Where had the grumbling gone?

     Pulling the two into the room Linus collapsed against the door. They didn't stop. He ran his fingers through his hair.

     He ran his fingers through his hair.

     He ran his finger through his hair!

     "Shut up!"

     Linus joined the chorus of screams until the image of Peter, quiet and dead, reappeared. Were they dying? Why were they yelling? Helpless, frustrated tears streamed down his cheeks. What was happening? He stood and searched the area. It seemed they were in another hallway. Shaking, he returned to the two on the flood.

     "You have to listen to me," he bowled back. "There is nothing wrong. Please stop screaming. Get up. Can you walk? Please!" He rattled Vint back and forth. "Snap out of it! Please." His voice was hardly a whisper.

     Vint fell back to the ground, rolling in agony. He wasn't getting anywhere. Trembling, sober, Linus grabbed the each of them and began to drag their writhing forms. They had to get out of here.

     Multiple times he fell. The gash in his side reopened, bleeding now freely. Still he pulled. Smoke filled his head. All he could picture was silence. Stillness. Fire. Darkness. The back of his neck smarted with memory, but he ignored it.

     He finally came to a change. Peter and Vint were bleeding; skin having been left behind along the pavement as they trashed; heads banging; claws reaching up to Linus and leaving his arms raw. Linus's back ran into a wall. He turned. For the first time letting Peter and Vint go to search for a door. He found what he was looking for, pulling down with all his dwindling might. The wall opened to screaming winds; to sunlight; to curious stares. Linus fell forward. He had to protect his friends, he didn't know these people, they still hadn't stopped screaming; they--.

     His world became engulfed with his exhaustion.

     His head dipped into the air again, no more than seconds later. However, he was not awoken by being attacked. The figures swirled around him, blurred. He listened. There was no screaming. Peter's voice was paler than his hair, his chest was still, his life! Linus sat with dizzying speed. He fell over, emptying his gut. "Pete...r...Peter." He panted, hurling again. A hand was on his shoulder. He swung back around with menacing attention. His was spinning, he attacked.

     "Linus! It's me!" Peter cried, fumbling back.

     Linus calmed, falling over and bowing to the rock. The winds scratched over his skin, healing his wounds with bits of sand. Tears pooled around Linus's head.

     "They went down the other path." Peter's voice was soft. A woman responded to him. Their conversation fell into murmurs. Linus was lifted from his place, his head still bowed, by gentle hands that lead him carefully.

     "You and your friends will be seen immediately." The woman told Peter. "Hopefully the others will be found soon."

     Were people missing? Linus raised his sight to Peter. A long line of blood colored his hair, but he stood attentively as they spoke. There was a shadow of fear upon his face. Where were the others?

Jericho's Group

     A man called Arroyo arrived, dazed. He came into the room with loud news--the group he was tracking had gone down the Path of Enlightenment and would not be joining them. The twins and Darius were laid out upon the stage, their bodies still; their breathing shallow.

     Warren fell back, against the chains that clanked about him. Linus. Vint. He mourned, head bowed solemnly. Something within him lit with ease. At least they wouldn't have to go through whatever was happening now. The Refinement. The man leading the show stood. His face was emotionless; Warren saw through his mask. There was pure glee boiling passionately within the man. He looked them all over slowly.

     "It's time, then."