Exalted

Something was moving. Eddie didn’t know what it was, or how it was moving, let alone why it was moving, but he felt sick and he wanted it to stop moving immediately. A few minutes spent fighting down a wave of nausea and dizziness gave him time to realize it was actually him that was moving, and he was moving because he was in the back of a car or something. He cracked open one eye experimentally, trying to make sense of his weird surroundings. It was like a fun-house view of a car, and it took him another few minutes to determine that everything looked strange because he was stuffed onto the floor in the backseat of the car.

Not my van, then, he thought, letting his eye slip shut again.

Now someone was talking. That was so rude, couldn’t they just let Eddie sleep off whatever bender he’d apparently been on? He didn’t remember drinking anything, he really wasn’t much of a drinker, but he’d seen enough friends blow past their limits and spend time throwing up and sleeping it off, so it seemed reasonable. But he should remember it; it must have been after the show. Hopefully he hadn’t made too much of an idiot out of himself, and even more hopefully nobody would tell Steve. Maybe he could at least remember some of it, if people would just stop talking.

“…this is kidnapping,” he heard from the front seat. 

Kidnapping? Someone was kidnapped? The back of the center console was digging into his side, and he tried to push against it to find a better spot, blinking dumbly at his hands, bound in front of him with zip ties. Oh, I’m kidnapped. Why would I be kidnapped? He was dimly aware that this should probably feel way more important than it did, but everything was vague and fuzzy, and his head hurt too much to concentrate.

“No, no,” the same voice came into the back again. “When it was bringing one of our own back, that was one thing, but this kid isn’t part of this. He’s got to have people, and they’re going to come looking for him. Probably with the police.”

“Local police won’t do anything, you know that,” a second voice answered. “Bought and sold a long time ago.”

“It isn’t local, though, is it? This is crossing state lines, that’s federal and you know it.” The voice sounded frustrated. “Between you and me, I think this is the last straw, and it’s all going to blow up in our faces. Time to think about getting out and away.”

“Just going to turn your back on the lord?” The second voice scoffed. “And you, one of the biggest believers.”

“I still am,” the first voice was sullen. “But this isn’t the way. I haven’t lost my faith in the lord, I have just lost my faith in this path. I think we have been deceived.”

Eddie could feel unconsciousness dragging him under again, and he struggled to stay awake and hear more.

“Would have been better for the kid in the back if you’d thought of that before you smashed him in the head, wouldn’t it?” The second one chuckled meanly. “Good timing, suddenly ready to question the leader and leave the farm when you might catch a murder charge.”

“He’s not dead,” the first voice said nervously.

“Not yet,” Eddie heard before he slipped back into blackness.

…

When Eddie woke again he was lying on his side on a cold concrete floor. His stomach was still in open revolt, and his head was splitting. He cracked his eyes open, grateful that the room was dim as even that faint light felt like stabbing pain and the room spun around him like a tilt-a-whirl.

Concussion, right? This is a concussion. I have a concussion. Shit, Wayne’s going to be pissed. He’d had one before, riding bikes with Gareth when they were kids and misjudging both the height he could get his bike to off the jump they’d built in the woods behind the trailer and the height of the tree limb he and the bike had to go under. Gareth had cried so hard he’d almost choked on his own snot, and Eddie had to get three stitches and spend a week laying down inside in the dark and quiet. Wayne had been ready to pull his hair out by the third day. 

This time felt worse. At least he wasn’t in the car anymore. Maybe he wouldn’t throw up, after all. Wait - that’s right. This time isn’t my fault. Wayne won’t be pissed. Well, not at me. He’s going to be very, very pissed, though.

He heard a door open and close somewhere, and footsteps crossed the room to stand in front of him. “Are you awake?” 

Nodding seemed like a bad idea, but words were proving equally hard, so Eddie settled for something between a grunt and a groan.

“You have been caught up in something you should never have been a part of, Mr. Munson,” the voice said from above him, and Eddie managed to slit open his eyes again, seeing a white blur that resolved itself slowly into feet and legs, clad in spotless white. “My brothers brought you to us because you were uncooperative, but I deplore the use of violence. I am certain that, had you only understood the seriousness, you would have answered their questions.”

The speaker paced, as Eddie was unresponsive. “Now that you are here, though, I am sure you will be able to answer mine.” The tone hardened from the scary politeness to something darker. “Where is young Harrington?”

Eddie tried to shake his head, and groaned again. “Who?” He managed. Who the fuck is that? Did Eddie know anyone named Harry-something? Maybe at school?

“I have been told that you know him, that you had him in your…show,” the voice dripped with contempt. “Dressed in a mockery of purity, displaying himself with others on a stage to be leered at by the unholy.”

The show? This guy was talking about the show? “School,” he muttered, gritting his teeth against the bile.

“Any institution allowing such a thing has no right to call itself a school, and all who attend are in danger of falling to corruption. All such things are vanity, and vanity is an affront to the lord. Only through humility and service can one achieve purity.” The voice was ranting now, which gave Eddie a moment to think.

Someone in the show? Who had he said? Harrison? “Don’t know Harrison,” he grated out, the combination of the near-shouting voice and his own attempt to follow it making stars of light bloom across his vision.

“Not Harrison, Harrington,” a quick, impatient correction. “Young man, a few years older than you, brown hair. Tall. He was in your show dressed in white, with a demonic symbol upon his chest.” 

White suit? That had to be Steve, right? Steve’s name isn’t Harrington. Oh, right - Steve was adopted. “Steve?” He managed to rasp.

“Yes!” The voice was almost shouting. “Where is he?”

Eddie shook his head again, and the feet moved closer, the toe of one shoe shoving him in the chest. “I have said I deplore violence, but if the agents of evil wish to leave me no choice, I will oblige them,” the voice warned. “The man you think you know is a corrupted soul, turned from the true path. He was once of our faith, and it is our obligation to bring him back to the light. Only suffering and sin can come to you from aiding him.”

This guy is a nut job, Eddie thought. “He’s a model,” he muttered between his teeth. “Call the school.”

Silence for a moment. “So you claim you don’t know him, other than through the school? Fine.” Something malicious had crept into the voice and Eddie could feel his instincts warning him to be wary. “Perhaps one of the other models knows him better. We will try to find Miss Cunningham.”

Eddie struggled to sit up as the voice chuckled. “If you don’t like that idea, I would advise you to tell us what we want to know.”

Eddie tried again to sit, and promptly vomited all over the floor, the white shoes, and the white pant legs. He was already sliding back into unconsciousness when a vicious kick landed on his ribs, and he could hear the voice screaming at him as another kick connected with his stomach. Can’t tell you anything now, can I? He thought as he slipped under. 

…

The next time Eddie came to his hands were still bound, and he was being dragged by his armpits by two people, his head dangling between his shoulders. He could taste the stale vomit in his mouth, and vaguely see it still damp on his shirt, but any other sense of time passing had completely left him. Wayne knows I’m gone, he thought. They said we crossed state lines, that means it’s been at least a few hours. Wayne went to Steve’s and when I didn’t show up they’d know something happened. His stomach churned again. It was something about this, wasn’t it? Steve wanted to talk to us about something to do with this. 

He could open his eyes better now, enough to see that it was dark and he was being brought outside, down a dark path. The people carrying him were huffing and grunting, and he tried to make himself even more of a dead weight, shifting his center of balance so one of them almost dropped their side, and he drooped lower in their grasp.

“How is this guy so heavy?” The one on his right muttered, shifting his grip and staggering forward again.

“He’s not that heavy, you just slack on the field work so you’re weak.” Despite the words of the one on his left, Eddie could feel him also straining to carry his side. “Hurry it up, we don’t want to keep the leader waiting.”

“Let him wait.” The man on the right stopped. “No. This is crazy. This guy is going to die, you know that, right? Look at him, he’s a mess, he’s probably got a skull fracture, broken ribs and who knows what, and now we’re going to - what? Duck him?” The man let go, and Eddie almost hit the ground as the man on the left scrambled not to lose his grasp.

“What are you doing?” The other man hissed. “Pick him up. The leader will lose his mind if we don’t hurry up and bring him.” 

“Let him. I won’t do this. I have done a lot for the leader, and I have been strong in my faith, but this is too much. This is murder. Torture and murder. There is nothing righteous or holy about murdering a man that can’t defend himself.” Eddie heard gravel crunching.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The man holding Eddie called.

“I’m done. I’m leaving. You should, too. This whole place is going to fall apart from this.” The footsteps crunched away into the dark, and the man holding Eddie still struggled to keep them both upright.

“Great. Just great.” The remaining man mumbled aloud, slowly inching Eddie further along the path. “Everyone’s hiding up there at the chapel, acting like they don’t know what’s going on so nobody has to get their hands dirty, and now it’s just me out here, dragging you like you don’t weigh a ton.” There was a pause. “Why am I talking to you?”

They stopped moving, the man trying to maneuver Eddie‘s uncooperative mass to a better position, his breath coming in pants. “I didn’t want any of this. I just wanted to live a better life, follow god, be a good person. What happened?”

Eddie wasn’t sure if the guy was expecting sympathy, but he didn’t exactly have any to spare. 

The sound of flowing water finally met Eddie’s ears as he was dragged toward the flickering light of a lantern by the side of what looked like a creek. There was a white figure standing by the edge of the water, and Eddie’s injured mind suddenly caught him up on what was going on. Ducking. Ducking wasn’t just what he had failed to do with that tree limb so long ago, it was what people used to do to witches and other ‘evil’ people. To drive out evil. Like what his parents had done when he was little. No, no, nonono.

Eddie started to scrabble with his feet, trying to find any strength to pull away, the extra movement almost sending him to the ground as the man dragging him staggered again. 

“Could use a hand here,” the man gasped. “I think he’s waking up, and he’s heavy.”

“Where has our brother gone?” The leader asked, not moving as another figure stepped forward in the darkness to take Eddie’s other side. “Weren’t you together?”

The man hesitated. “Took off,” he finally muttered. “Said this is murder.” His voice was stronger, and he dropped his grip on Eddie, leaving him to swing to the other man, who held him tightly in an awkward embrace, trying to stand him on his feet. “And he’s right. This is too much. If you want to find young Harrington so bad, you do your own dirty work. I won’t be part of this.”

“You will burn with him,” the leader ranted. “You have turned from the path, and you will bring sin into this family.”

“I won’t be here to bring any sin anywhere. You have lost your mind. This place is almost empty, the only ones left are the ones who really wanted to believe and the ones with nowhere else to go, and you’re still obsessed with the Harrington boy. You have brought all this on yourself.” The man began walking away, pausing as another figure stepped out of the path. 

“Keep walking,” the figure advised, and the fleeing man picked up the pace and disappeared into the dark.

“Have you come to help the righteous, and will not flee with the weak and the unholy?” The leader asked, peering past the circle of light he stood in, unable to see clearly into the darkness where the newcomer was walking past Eddie and the man holding him. 

“Get him out of here,” the figure said as he passed them. “I’ll be right behind you.” 

The man holding Eddie had cut his hands free and now pulled his arm around his shoulders, coaxing him to try and walk. “C’mon, Ed, use your legs. You can do it.”

“Wayne?” Eddie’s voice was a whisper. “Who?” He swung his head back just as the man who had ordered them to leave stepped into the light of the lantern, the glow surrounding him like a halo. “Steve?”

“We have to go,” Wayne pulled him toward the path, and Eddie weakly protested, trying to shove himself free. 

“No, Wayne, it’s Steve, have to tell Steve.” Eddie struggled, but Wayne’s grip was firm.

“Let him settle this.”