Page 26 of Sundowners
I waitedfor Roman’s response, the three dots floating for an hour before I finally gave up.
He probably fell asleep. And it was my fault.
I’d lost control in the parking lot with Roman and hit him with a pheromone bomb. And I must havereallyhit him, because it had serious physiological effects, which wasn’t fair. If I couldn’t keep my biological needs under control around him, it would threaten my status here, and it was too soon to leave.
Because my enemies were here, and they were growing bolder.
A news article on theSanta Cruz Patch—the sham of a local news source—turned out to be promising. There had been a few bizarre attacks downtown recently involving groups of young men circling young professionals on their way to or from work, harassment ensued, and two of the victims had actually been bitten. On the neck.
Sure, I’d run across fake vampire nonsense in the past. New York City in the late ’70s, any American city in the ’80s afterLost Boyscame out. LA afterBlade…Oregon after the firstTwilightmovie. But the group dynamic, the description the victims gave of bullying type behavior…it took me back…
1970
“That guy Stephengives me the creeps, Creed. I don’t like him.”
“You stick close to me,” I said, frowning. “I don’t trust the whole group of them.”
Muse and I sat at our usual table in the gathering room for our morning meal and kept our heads down. The commune was way different than we’d thought it would be. Instead of a bunch of hippies talking peace and love while tripping on LSD, we’d wound up at something that was a cross between an ashram and a coven.
By day, we learned meditation techniques, practiced yoga, and worked on repairing our chakras, and by night we studied botany, physics, biology and anatomy. We were moved from station to station, kept busy every hour of daylight, with the exception of two small meals a day and four hours of sleep at night. There were no drugs, but enough chemical compounds to build an entire pharmaceutical empire. There was no fraternizing with each other except for a few exchanged words over meals or during discussions in class.
Some small groups had formed, however. In a typical school setting, they would be considered bullies, but there was nothing that set them apart otherwise. We all dressed in matching white clothes, we all had our heads shaved, we were all kept in check. No one received favoritism or encouragement from the Leaders, who dressed in pale pink clothing, and no one interacted with The Source, who wore blood red.
The Source was the center of everything, they were taught. And though the being never spoke or interacted with others in front of the Learners, as we were called, they were an imposing presence. You felt them whenever they entered a space; you sensed it as if there was a shift in the atmosphere, the barometric pressure. We were told that if we passed the first set of evaluations, we would be allowed more knowledge of The Source.
After the orientation with the Leaders, I’d been ready to split. No thanks. I’d had my share of religious indoctrination as a kid. I wasn’t about to volunteer for the shit. But then I’d heard someone ask about The Source.
“So is he like a god?” a woman had asked.
“Theyare not a deity, and they are not like you and me. They are a being that has evolved beyond human comprehension. The Source is above the basic elements humans must have to survive. They require only energy. And we will teach you to exist on a similar plane, above the pain and anguish that comes with wondering where your next meal will come from.”
That had intrigued me. I’d always loved science. I’d had a high school teacher who talked about how humans only use a small fraction of their mental capacity. Mr. Frazier had taught us about mind over matter, how people walked on coals and slept on nails…real Ripley’s Believe it or Not stuff, and I’d eaten it up. It was refreshing to not hear “the Bible says, that’s why” whenever I asked questions.
Of course, Mr. Frazier had been fired and run out of town at the end of that school year. Figured.
So I’d been interested, and Muse was just happy to feel safe and clean again. Living on the streets of San Francisco, we hadn’t had access to showers with any regularity, and the lack of a safe place to rest at night had taken a toll on both of us.
There were baths at the commune. Sort of ritualistic, done in groups, the water provided by the San Lorenzo River that ran through the Santa Cruz mountains. Muse loved them.
We ate our meal between whispers so as not to draw attention to ourselves.
A bowl crashed to the floor, the sound of ceramic breaking on wood reverberated through the room’s glass walls and vaulted ceilings.
Our heads snapped around to look in the direction of the commotion, and we saw an older woman surrounded by Stephen and his cronies. They’d boxed her in by the window and were crowding her, using their bodies to block her. They didn’t touch her with their hands. Not once. But their sadistic laughter made the hair stand up on the back of my neck.
They didn’t use their hands in the way soccer players didn’t touch the ball. Didn’t mean they didn’t have control over it. They used their thighs, hips, and shoulders to maneuver the woman. Her eyes were wide as they darted between the men, looking for a way to escape.
“I hate this shit,” I said as I stood from the table, but as I was getting ready to intervene, I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“There is no need for your involvement,” a gentle voice said. “Leader Bryce will diffuse the situation.”
“Leader Bree, I don’t mean to speak out of turn—”
“Then don’t speak, Learner Creed. Listen.” The tall, willowy woman clasped her hands in front of her. “There are times when Learners must discover for themselves the limits they will go to in the search for an energy exchange. We do our best to guide all Learners to have clear boundaries and to not cause harm.”
“And what happens if the Learners don’t learn?” I asked, astounded that they would allow this behavior to go on.
Leader Bree smiled at me in a cool way that raised even more hair on the back of my neck, and also sent an icy-cold feeling of dread throughout my body.
