16.
Santi woke with a start, bolting upright, skin peeling away from the leather couch loudly. Light filtered through the broken glass doors, but the common room was still gloomy. People were lounging around, some collapsed and sleeping. Eyes turned to him as he bolted upright, eyes full of questions. Questions he didn’t want to answer right now as his headache decided to announce itself with a blast of crushing pain. Dehydration and exhaustion made poor bedfellows.
“Morning sunshine,” Paulie drawled out, sitting the ground with his legs spread out, watching him with interest. Tank was off to the side talking to someone who Santi vaguely remembered, but seeing Santi awake, he detached himself from the conversation and headed over. Chloe and her three friends were clustered to the side, each of them gripping a weapon.
“How long was I out for?”
“Few hours. I think. Nobody remembers you walking through the doors. Or really anything. Memory just sorta, fades away right around the time you called us over,” Paulie was calm as he spoke, but there was a lingering anxiety in his words as he stared at Santi.
“Well, shit. Everyone already picked their class?”
“How do you know that? That we have classes?”
“I told you once, but none of you can remember.”
“Huh. Some secret government shit, like the Illuminati?”
“Paulie, the Illuminati aren't real and those are monsters from mythology. I don’t think the government has anything to do with it,” Tank rumbled up to them, concern etched across his face as he kneeled down next to Santi.
“That’s what they want us to think. This could be an experiment gone wrong. A huge A.I and some genetic hybrid monsters that were being developed got loose,” Paulie said with such certainty that Santi had to take a second to remind himself that this definitely isn't a government conspiracy.
“Paulie, you think you could go get a couple bottles of water for Santi, and his pack over there,” Tank asked politely, his dark eyes never leaving Santi’s.
“Sure, sure. I’ll go and grab Daniel, see if he wants in on this. He’s European, he knows how sketchy the government is.” Paulie was already halfway gone even as he spoke.
“Someone looks like they just got done with a bukkake film,”Chloe chirped as she and her friends walked over. Santi wanted to just lay back and go to sleep again. His headache was worsening and the last thing he needed was for people to be poking fun at him.
“Thanks, Chloe. Really appreciate it.” Santi offered her a thumbs up as his head dipped down, eyes closed to try to minimize his headache.
“Leave him be, he’s hurting right now.” Tank defended him, which only earned him a snort of anger from one of the girls.
“Like we all aren’t hurting. They killed Adam, I saw them, just…just rip him, oh god.” The pain in her voice was a brand on Santi’s soul, dredging up old memories he had let fade to nothing more than haunted whispers. Everyone was red eyed, either from tears or sleep deprivation, but he could see the stress lines, the grief, and the anguish etched upon their souls.
“I know, Amanda. We will work through this together, but we can’t do that by lashing out at others in our pain. Our anger and hurt has to be directed at those who did this, not those who are just as caught up as we are,” Tank calmed her down.
“Santi, I need you to tell us what’s going on and where you went.”
“It’s called a rift. It’s where the kobolds came from. I went inside and closed it.” Santi took an offered bottle of water as Paulie arrived with Daniel in tow. They joined the gathering crowd around him as he drained half the bottle in one long swig. The relief on his parched throat was godsend and he groaned in relief. Slumping back into the couch, he looked over the group of people staring at him.
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Thirty or so college students, only a small portion of the dorms. More than what would have survived without him. Could he have saved more though? Shouldn’t this room be filled with survivors? If he had just had the courage to speak out, to gather others and prepare them. Santi knew he was wrong, that the questions in his mind were not fair. He had known what would have happened if he had spoken the truth. He would have been locked up in a psychiatric hold.
“How do you know that though!?” Amanda nearly screamed, her fists balled up tightly as her red-rimmed green eyes blazed with anger and frustration.
“I told you all last night. You just can’t remember it now. I can’t tell you about it now, there are rules I have to follow, rules that can’t be broken no matter how much I want to.”
“We don’t understand Santi, and honestly, you’re not making sense to any of us.” Tank placed a warm hand on his shoulder, a mix of comfort and gentle pressure. Santi had to take a deep breath and try to center himself as his own ire was increasing.
“This is an integration cycle. A system has arrived and we are now going to have to survive.”
“BUT HOW DO YOU KNOW THIS?” Amanda screamed, she was literally trembling with emotion, and while she got some side-eyes, nobody interceded.
“I told you once. It was erased from your memory, or likely blocked, and I’m no longer allowed to tell you.”
Amanda seemed to deflate, shrinking in on herself as tears raced down her face as she began to sob. Chloe and the other two friends quickly surrounded her, holding her up as she broke down. Tank was looking apprehensive at the large group around us for a moment, then he stood up and started shooing people away.
Paulie, Daniel, Tank, and the girls stayed. The girls were clustered on one of the only sofas still remaining while the three boys spread out in front of Santi in an arc as they continued to try to pry out the secrets of Santi’s knowledge. Everything he had told them was gone, or locked away. Everytime he tried to speak of being a regressor, his words stuck to his throat. It was an effort in futility that still went on for a few minutes before Tank took charge and redirected the conversation.
“It doesn’t matter. Shit’s gone wild and we need to adapt if we want to survive. Shelter, water, food, in that order.” Santi sighed in relief as they stopped grilling him about his knowledge and started to be proactive.
“I have a place. It’s safeish. I stockpiled water and food, but we will be needing more.”
“This, again, something you can’t tell us about?” Daniel asked, his accent hardly noticeable.
“Yup. My suggestion is everyone gather up as much shit as they can. Water, dry goods, some changes of clothes. We can move out in a few hours, I’ll lead us there and we can have somewhere safe to sleep tonight.”
“I’ll let everyone know. Santi, I think it’d be best if you just stayed off to the side until people started to grow more accustomed to what’s going on. It’s not your fault, but people are hurting real bad right now, and I’m worried they might lash out,” Tank spoke softly, each word a hammerblow to Santi’s conscience.
“I can take care of myself.”
“It’s for their safety, Santi.”
“Oh. I…I need to go clean up anyway.” Santi surged off of the couch and started up the stairs toward his room.
“Santi. Thank you. Without you, we wouldn’t be here,” Tank called out loud enough the entire common room could hear him, his deep voice carrying easily. Hot tears slid down Santi’s face as he simply nodded and moved upwards, climbing the stairs to his room as fast as possible.
His dorm room was fairly plain, neither he or Paulie having much in the way of decorations. Just a pair of beds and a few knick knacks and some clothes strewn about. Santi got on his hands and knees and pulled the case of water out from under his bed where he had stashed it yesterday. Just in case. He drank two bottles as he rummaged through what clothes he had left in the dorm room. Most of his belongings had been moved to the abandoned building over the last two days, as discreet as possible.
The bathroom they shared was dark, no windows letting any light in. Santi stole a few candles from Daniel’s supply across the hall and soon was standing in the stall, pouring water over himself as he tried to scrub the sticky sap off. It was a labor intensive process, the washclothe he used was not up to the task. Half the bottles were empty before he was clean enough to dry off and tug fresh clothes on. His shoes were ruined, but he had a pair of workboots that he hadn’t worn in almost a year that were comfortable enough.
Looking at himself in the mirror, Santi allowed himself to finally see himself. The years hadn’t been kind, and seeing the passage of time having been erased was a struggle. His skin was dark from the sun in the rift, his still limp hair covered his ears and brushed his shoulders. Skin still smooth and not yet marred from fangs or blades or magic. He hesitantly touched his cheek and marveled at it for a moment. He had taken a splash of acid in year four, it had burned and shriveled his cheek, leaving it waxy and ruined.
“I’m going to do it. I’m going to get them out of this. I have to.” Santi promised himself in the flickering light of a pair of candles. Leaving the bathroom, he flopped on his dorm bed for the last time. Staring at the ceiling, he finally started accessing all the alerts the system had sent his way.