Vox Mentis

Try his command words, make him come back to the entrance...if he's still listening

"Vestrid fairsesh rintrae vulo! Come back!" you say into the phone.

Still silence.

~

You wait against the car as the sun settles behind you and heat bleeds from the air. You don't expect the kid to return. But you're giving him the chance.

Why are you here, Eliot? You see where the organization is going. You know what's coming. Yet here you stand.

Tell us more about Thoreau though, what makes him so scary?

Thoreau is scary precisely because you can't tell anything about him. He's an enigma. It's like there's nothing behind his eyes. Poets are trained to resist setting, sure, but everyone's personality still shines through their eyes. You can always see a little bit of truth through that lens. Not with Thoreau. There's just nothing there. And that's the man in charge of the organization. The man you're all subservient to. It would take... well, it would take a Thoreau to not be scared by that.

In an hour, it'll be dark. Then you'll climb into the car, drive four hours to your hotel, and phone Thoreau. You'll tell him Campbell had not come back, keeping your voice empty, and Thoreau will express his sorrow, in the same tone.

Elise, you think. Where did you go?

Something shimmers on the road. You squint. The haze has lifted, but the wind blows dust into your eyes. Then you're sure: someone is coming. You straighten. You raise a hand. The figure doesn't respond. There's something off about the way it's moving. Its gait is lopsided. Not Campbell? But it has to be. There's no one else out here.

A minute passes. The haze condenses into Campbell. The reason he's lopsided is that he's carrying an ax.