Darlene poured herself a glass of whiskey. She took comfort in its rich amber shade. Whiskey darkened with age, its flavor profile deepening with it, getting rid of that excessively bitter alcohol taste. There was nothing quite like it.
She took a sip and held the liquid in her mouth, feeling it settle on her tongue. In this new age, it symbolized power. She had the time to focus on things like aging liquor. Not many could say that, and in Camp Twelve, no one else could say that but her.
She’d done this family proud. She knew it in her heart. But the problem had been Thomas and his shortsightedness. She hadn’t come from much; she’d gone above and beyond to prove she could be of use, but with a husband like Thomas, what could she have done?
It. Was. Not. Her. Fault.
She swallowed, downed the whole glass, swallowed that, and poured herself some more. She shook her head, thinking about the Dreamhold. Every single Dreamer, dead. Killed. It was a good thing for their resources, she knew that, but the problem was that someone had done it behind her back. Without her approval!
She downed the second glass, relishing the way it burned down her throat. Her eyes went to her shotgun, sitting on the wall mountings. She got lost in its gold finishings. The edges on the handle, the trigger itself. Its shot rang loud and clear in her head.
“Bloody ingrates,” she swore.
Once more, she downed the glass in one gulp.
“What’s taking him so long?” she asked herself.
At the end of her question, as if he’d known her patience was wearing thin, Kevin opened the door, leading the way in with two others following behind him. One of them was an enforcer, though she couldn’t remember his name. Thomas might’ve, but she didn’t need to.
“Well?” she asked, throwing her glance at both of them. “Is this him?”
“Go on,” Kevin said. “Everything you told Dan here.”
The man looked between them, swallowing nervously. Darlene had to clench her jaw, or else she might’ve cussed the man out.
“Well, you see, I was part of the team that delivered food to the hold that morning,” he started, playing with the ends of his shirt. “We used to leave it on the foyer floor, and whoever could eat, came to eat. But after the lix’s demonstration, we gave them a week, so we’d come with food and try to feed those who would swallow.”
Darlene hid her annoyance at that fact. That lix really had disturbed their routine, but after Oliver had come walking out, she couldn’t very well banish them, not when their laws said the ill needed a week at minimum.
The man flinched at her expression. “Of course, you already know that.”
“I do,” she said with a clipped tone.
“Right. Um, when we were done, I realized I’d forgotten something upstairs, one of our bowls. So, I went up to fetch it. That’s when I heard shooting from below. So, I ran to the stairs, only, the shooting got louder, and it sounded like someone was coming up the stairs, so I ran— back into the apartment. The Dreamer just sat there, mumbling stupidly.”
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Darlene glanced irritably at Kevin and the enforcer—Kevin had called him Dan?
“I was on the second floor,” the man went on hurriedly. “I hid behind the curtain, in the corner—there was some furniture pressing in the corner as well. I just made it when this man walks in, wearing this weird mask. Never seen it before. White with this black swirling thing right here, in the middle.”
The man touched his nose.
“This older guy wearing a suit—a suit!—walks in next, grabs the Dreamer by the neck, pulls him up, and starts strangling him. The poor guy wasn’t mumbling anymore; I’ll tell you that. I don’t know what happened next, but somehow, the Dreamer starts, well, he starts going dry. Like his having the life sucked right out of him. I wasn’t seeing things, I promise! You have to believe me!”
Darlene nodded softly, feeling cold. This couldn’t be. This. Couldn’t. Be.
She walked away from him, shaking her head again. She poured herself more of the whiskey but didn’t drink it this time. Instead, her fingers curled around the glass, tightening the more the image of the mask came to her.
The Sins. She’d known the Leviath was here, but to think he’d come with venials. They were the second lowest rank in the organization, but they were trained to follow orders unfailingly.
She had to fight to get her breath under control. This was fine. She was fine. They would never attack members, not without the express permission of the Great Sins, and even then, that decision needed to be agreed upon by all of them.
She was fine.
How many had the Leviath brought? The thought chilled her. How had no one seen them enter? Where were they currently hiding?
“Darlene,” Kevin said from behind.
She licked her lips, then turned around with a calm expression she didn’t really feel.
“Here,” she said, handing the man the glass. “You look thirsty.”
He looked grateful, bobbing his head as he said, “Thank you!” He took a hesitant sip as she walked back to the table.
“What about you, Dan? You want one?” she asked over her shoulder.
There was a slight pause.
“It isn’t polite to refuse an offer,” Kevin said to him reassuringly.
“Yeah. Sure. I’ll take one.”
She reached over for another glass and started pouring some for him.
“You can’t tell anyone about this, alright?” Kevin said as she turned around. “Both of you. We don’t even really understand what happened. It would just create panic. They’ve already seen the bodies out front. I can’t even imagine what would happen if this got out.”
“Thank you,” Dan said, accepting the glass.
For the third time, she went back to the table.
“Understand?” Kevin asked.
“Never!” the man said, his glass almost finished. “I promise, I’ll never tell a soul. I was created honestly, so you can believe that! I’ll never repeat what I saw—to anyone!”
“Thomas ruined everything,” Darlene said angrily when she reached the table.
“So, what are we going to do?” Dan asked.
“I’m ready to do whatever you say,” the man said. “I just hope you’ll remember my loyalty. The work rounds I’ve been pulling...” he trailed off with a shaky laugh.
Darlene rolled her eyes, looking up at her shotgun. She’d been right about him. By now, she knew how to spot the type almost instantly. Opportunists. Blackmailers. She was concerned about the camp, and here he was, trying to blackmail her.
“You know, I hate being right,” she sighed.
The room went quiet, everyone pondering what she’d just said, as she reached for the shotgun, cocked it, turned, and fired straight at the man’s chest. Kevin looked resigned, sighing softly, while Dan looked well and truly shocked.
She cocked it again, aiming straight at Dan, as she asked, “How’s the whiskey?”
Dan glanced at Kevin in confusion, but Kevin only stared at him. He swallowed, looking down at the glass clutched in his hand. “It’s—”
Bang!
The sound of the shotgun cut off whatever he’d been about to say. The glass fell, shattering and spilling the liquor across the floor as she lowered the gun.
“You’re right, Kevin. No one hears about this.”

