[Masks Vignette] The Everlasting Light

[Dr Archeville]

Title: The Everlasting Light

Yet in thy dark street shineth the everlasting light, the hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight...

2006, Seattle, Washington

“All right girls, smile for the camera!” Erin obediently stretched her lips into a big fake smile as the green-clad photographer snapped the picture, leaning against the chair where Megan was grinning like a fool as she sat on Santa's lap. Erin knew for a fact that Megan knew the truth about Santa Claus, but even at seven, she was a canny operator, and knew that Santa toys would keep appearing under the tree if she still “believed.” That belief, plus their mother's insistence on continuing the row of framed photos on their mantlepiece, had Erin, much too old and sophisticated at fourteen, dragged into the mall on Christmas Eve morning for the all-important visit to the jolly old elf. At least her mom had let her wear a little bit of makeup along with her new Christmas dress, so not everything totally sucked.

The mall was crowded with last-minute shoppers, but it wasn't exactly the same as it had been in previous years. The news about the flu in Asia had people scared to go out to crowded spaces like malls, and many people were wearing surgical masks and even latex gloves, as though that would protect them from a menace halfway around the world. Mom was determined that she wasn't going to let the flu scare ruin Christmas, so though she'd done a lot of her shopping online, they'd still gone out to places like normal. Kathi's mom wasn't as courageous, and Kathi couldn't even go places like Winter Formal, which really sucked. It was bad for Kathi, sure, but it was also bad for Erin, who was going with Ben Bowen and couldn't consult with her very best friend about what to wear and how to act and whether or not there should be kissing and how much! In the end, Formal had been a bit of a bust anyway, since Ben had spent way more of the evening talking about football with his friends than dancing with her, but at least she'd been able to go. At least by the spring, this stupid flu thing would be over, and everything would be back to normal.

By the time they got home from the mall, it was time to start cooking, and all the rest of the holiday preparations. Erin sat in her room while the house filled with good smells and wrapped the presents she'd collected and forgotten (as usual) to prepare for presentation. She was a good big sister and saved last year's leftover gift bags for Megan, who was even worse about it than Erin herself was. Sure enough, Megan came in when Erin was halfway finished, and the two girls sat together on the floor in their Christmas dresses and finished assembling their presents. Erin liked being around Megan this holiday, she was like the only person who wasn't afraid bad things were going to happen, mostly because she wasn't really old enough to worry like that. It was reassuring. Everything was going to be fine.

2007, Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

The Jeep was dying. The fact that it had lived this long was somewhat astonishing, with all the off-road work it had been asked to do, the contaminated gasoline that fueled it, the fact that it had been old and poorly maintained to start with, and hadn't had an oil change or maintenance in many months. Erin certainly wasn't surprised to feel it start to go. Everything died here. Everything except her, and she hadn't ruled out the idea that she was already dead, and this was her private lonely hell. She limped the Jeep into Oklahoma City, where she expected there would be zombies, and pointed it to the nearest hospital. As usual, there was a covey of zombies there, milling around and eating corpses and each other, and who were very interested in the possibility of fresh meat. These days Erin didn't use a weapon anymore, she dove in with her bare hands, as though trying to even the odds for the zombies who attacked her back with equal ferocity but much less skill.

In the middle of the scrum, it would've been hard for an outside observer, if there'd been anyone to see, to tell who the zombies were. Erin's clothes were tatters now, too small where they were still intact, with only her warm boots and ski mask setting her apart. She didn't suffer from the cold as much as she used to, but the mask kept the wind and the bloody bits off. At the end of the short battle, she tugged the mask off and shook it out, then put it back on automatically. Unpacking the most important of her possessions from the Jeep, she tucked them into a knapsack and left the dead vehicle next to the pile of bodies, then set out at a ground-eating jog.

Oklahoma City was dressed up for Easter, not unlike many of the cities she'd passed. Despite the lockdowns in cities like Seattle, other cities, more religious cities, had tried to keep their holidays to the bitter end. Religious iconography was in heavy display, for all it was faded and falling down, some even dusted with snow. Erin ignored it, because she had to. One foot in front of the other, and somewhere ahead of her there were more zombies that needed killing. That was as far ahead as she could think. Her reverie was abruptly broken by a flash of neon light in the gathering dusk. Neon light? There were no lights anywhere anymore! Fascinated, drawn like a moth, Erin increased her speed and ran through the streets towards the source of the light. Could there be people here, living people who had electricity?

Her steps slowed as she reached the source of the light, till finally she stopped, cocking her head like a dog trying to watch television. In the middle of an empty lot stood a tall red LED sign with a single lit halogen bulb beneath it, illuminating a printed sign. This Clean Green Sign Is Powered Entirely by Renewable Solar and Wind Energy, and is Brought to You by AccuraText Inc.! See Us For All Your Signage Needs! Above it, the LED sign had about a quarter of its bulbs burnt out, and showed all the signs of neglect, but it still displayed the date and time, information Erin hadn't had since... for a long time. December 24, it read. Christmas Eve. A strange sound escaped from Erin's throat, a keening sob that barely sounded human. She tore off the ski mask and threw it aside, staring up at the fragmented red letters. For a moment her mind was full of memories, memories that she couldn't bear, could only try and outrun. So run she did, as fast and far as she could, leaving Oklahoma City far behind her, mere moments before other footsteps sounded there.

2008, Freedom City, New Jersey, The Goodman Building

The Goodman Building was quiet tonight, as quiet as it ever got. Most of the personnel were home with their families for the holiday, leaving only a skeleton crew behind, and Erin. She wasn't in quarantine anymore, not technically. She'd been moved out of the infirmary just after Thanksgiving, when the doctors had assured themselves that she not only didn't carry the hero flu, she carried no diseases whatsoever. But she'd had nowhere to go, so they just moved her up one flight into a little two-room apartment meant for transients. It was nice enough, and she was grateful for it. The League even furnished it, after a fashion, with a bed with sheets and blankets, an arm chair, an old sofa, and a pretty nice television. A staff member brought her clean coveralls and towel and underthings every day, and they fed her a decent diet of mostly takeout food from the nearby restaurants or the cafeteria downstairs. Erin had to appreciate the effort they were going to on her behalf, even if the end result was a little, well, depressing.

It was sort of like being in jail, she guessed, though she'd never been in jail and could only speculate. She wasn't expressly forbidden to leave, she'd just been strongly encouraged, for everyone's safety, to limit her contact with the outside world until her therapy had progressed a little further. Erin had no illusions about how dangerous she was, how much she could hurt someone without meaning to, so she obeyed the encouragement strictly. Since her arrival two months ago, she'd observed Prime only through the windows, where she had an excellent view of Freedom City dressing itself up in its Christmas finery. It was very beautiful, she had to admit. Doctor Franklin had offered to let her decorate her place, and had even dug up colored lights and some ornaments and window clings, but she'd declined. The less she thought about Christmas, she'd figured, the better. Tonight she'd gotten Chinese food from the place next door, a plate of cut-out and decorated Christmas cookies, and a box of cocoa with peppermint bits, so she was set for food, though she wasn't really hungry. Just bored, and unusually restless. It was too quiet.

She turned on the television, scrolling past a hundred channels of Christmas programming that she didn't want to watch. Why did they assume that people who weren't celebrating on Christmas Eve wanted to watch Christmas shows? She finally settled on one that was only tangentially holiday-related, a Travel Channel program on ceremonial masks in the celebration of the winter solstice. Apparently dressing up like a cow on the shortest day of the year helped to make the crops grow, or something like that. She guessed it was no weirder than some contemporary Christmas traditions would look in a few hundred years. The show was boring, though, so she left it running for noise and wandered into her bedroom. She opened her dresser to reveal its only contents, the handful of mementos she'd brought with her from home that had gone through quarantine and been returned to her. She could've set them out, put a little color in the room, but she hadn't. They were safer in the drawer anyway.

Impulsively, Erin picked up her battered, dirty old teddy bear, the one thing of hers she'd brought along. She held it to her chest and squeezed it, closing her eyes like a little girl. Even after decontamination, though, its fur was full of the stench of her old world, the smell of dead things and loneliness, and even the scent of it made her world cant a little sideways. She put the bear down hastily. Her mental equilibrium was fragile enough as it was. Her throat clogged with tears as she remembered other toys, other Christmases in a very different place. Were they together now, in some world beyond all the Earths? Did they think about her, did they miss her as keenly as she missed them? Did they blame her for all she hadn't done? Erin closed the drawer and began pacing, her steps increasing in speed till she was all but running between one wall and another, trying to escape something that was always in her head, waiting for nothing but darkness and quiet to jump out. She didn't notice it when she began to tap the walls, then slap them on the end of every round, until she heard the sharp rapping on her door. She jumped, badly, at the noise, then rubbed her face and went to assure the night watchman that everything was totally fine and he should have a Merry Christmas.

2009, Freedom City, New Jersey, Claremont Academy

After increasing to an almost unbearable fever pitch yesterday and this morning, the bustle of life and activity in the Claremont dorms had slowed to almost nothing. Pretty much everyone was gone, celebrating Christmas or just enjoying winter break, and the few who were left, like Erin, weren't in the mood for a lot of company. It wasn't like she couldn't have gone places if she'd wanted to. Mark and Alex had both invited her to spend Christmas with their families, right here in Freedom City, but she'd declined, citing other plans. Mark had bought it, Alex hadn't, but was kind enough not to press. After the events of earlier that fall, they were all being a little bit kinder to each other, maybe a little bit more thoughtful. Nothing like almost dying and saving the world to make you value your friends a little more.

Truthfully, the last thing Erin wanted to do was ruin somebody else's Christmas if she lost it again and spiraled out into depression like last year. Thanksgiving had gone okay at Mark's house, but Christmas was different, and she didn't think she could watch all that happy family togetherness and retain her emotional balance. At least here, safe in her dorm room, if she cracked there'd be no one to see it, and she'd be totally back in control by the 26th. She'd made her friends here carry enough of her emotional baggage already, and she couldn't bear their pity. Spending the night alone was a small price to pay for the semblance of normalcy.

Well, maybe not entirely alone, she amended, as her new roommate hopped up onto her bed with her and snuck under her hand, purring. She wasn't sure whether Oliver was just the clingiest stray cat ever, or whether he was somehow picking up on how sad she had been lately and was trying to be there and comfort her. Either way, it was effective and appreciated. Setting aside the world history textbook she'd been ignoring anyway, she scooped up the cat and nuzzled his orange fur with her cheek. Some of the knots in her stomach loosened a little.

Emboldened, Erin reached out and took the jewelry box down off her dresser, holding it in her hands as the cat purred loudly in her lap. It wasn't much to look at, hadn't been more than rigid cardboard covered with Disney Princesses in its prime, and now it was battered and grimy on top of that. Still, the music box inside worked, and when she opened it, the princess ballerina spun around in her ballgown to the strains of the love song from Sleeping Beauty. It had taken a long time, but she could open the music box and wind it and listen to it, and that was progress. She let the princess twirl and took out the contents of the box, a pair of stainless steel Tinkerbell earrings she'd found at the mall one day when she'd been doing her therapy. They weren't expensive, but she had almost no money, so they'd been a significant outlay. She'd thought to send them to the Megan who lived here, but in the end, she just sort of hadn't. The Megan here was older, ten years old now, and probably didn't even like that stuff anyway. And Erin would have to pay for shipping, and she didn't have anything for the rest of the family... and they weren't a gift for that Megan, she admitted to herself. But the Post Office didn't deliver as far as would be necessary to get them to their intended recipient. Dropping the earrings back into the box, she shut it and carefully wound it, then put it away and curled up with the cat once more.

2010, Freedom City, New Jersey, Claremont Academy

Just like last year, the dorms were quiet on Christmas, but it wasn't an oppressive kind of silence. More like the silent night they talked about in the song. It had been a long and busy semester, and Erin was glad for a chance to stretch out on her bed and relax, with her little netbook playing soft swing music on the desk nearby. Trevor had invited her for Christmas this year, with the caveat that he and his grandfather really didn't do much to celebrate the holiday anyway, but she'd let him off the hook. She didn't want to put them to any trouble, and anyway, she still couldn't shake the niggling embarrassment from his grandfather seeing her crack and nearly collapse during the Halloween invasion back in October. Erin wasn't really worried about doing anything to embarrass herself this Christmas, but she'd really prefer to put off her next meeting with the venerable original Midnight until she was sure to be sufficiently heroic.

At least her job this year had let her buy real gifts for her friends, which made Christmas seem a lot more normal. She couldn't get anything even close to the same league as Trevor's birthday gift to her, but she'd bought him some black fingerless gloves for when he was riding, and some multidensity gel grips that looked cool but she wasn't sure of, so had included a gift receipt for. Alex had gotten sparkly barrettes, Mike a silly book about how to handle getting married, and Mark a photo album that she'd started with a few press clippings about Young Freedom. James she'd agonized over, then had finally given him a penknife multitool that seemed pretty cool. JJ had gotten a new toy for chewing on, despite the fact that he'd gotten a small store's worth of loot from his folks, and Oliver got a carpeted cubbyhole that he was currently disdaining because it was for him. It was really nice to be able to give gifts to people, instead of just receiving them because everyone knew she had nothing.

Even with the normalcy though, even with the pride she had in her own stability, Erin was restless this year. It was Christmas, a time to celebrate... something, a time to celebrate. She no longer had faith in anything beyond the need for people to take care of each other, but that didn't really change the nature of the season. Peace on earth, good will towards men, a sentiment that was the same whether she was sitting in a church or sitting in her room. She should be doing something to celebrate that didn't involve bashing skulls. Given who she was and what she did, that sort of limited her options. But there was always something. Dropping the turkey she'd saved from dinner into Oliver's bowl, she headed out, not bothering with costume or disguise tonight.

Down in the Fens, the lights weren't as bright as in Bayview, and more houses were shuttered against the cold night air. But there were also an absence of the muggers and dealers who usually scurried like roaches around the dark corners. Maybe they had families to be with tonight, too. Erin leapt silently across the rooftops until she came to one well-lighted, well-attended building. The Rhodes Foundation center was open tonight, and business looked brisk. The line of people waiting for a hot Christmas dinner stretched out the door. Erin dropped to the ground on the far edge of the parking lot and walked to the building, skirting the line to go up to the volunteer at the door. "I'd like to..." She stopped and cleared her throat. "I'd like to help. Can I do something?"

"Sure," said the volunteer with a smile. "Go on inside, there's always something to do."