“You want us to get in there?” Lauren said. “You must be crazy.”
Charles shrugged. “If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to.”
Nick stepped forward. “It’s fine,” he said. “It’s an elevator. We’ve been to the upper floors. We know what’s up there, more or less.”
The four of them stepped into the elevator along with Charles and one of the Guardians. The elevator car was large, but it was still a tight fit.
Charles pressed a button, and to everyone’s surprise, the creaky old elevator started going down. Nick grasped Lauren’s hand, as he sensed she was the most frightened by it all. He didn’t know what was giving him the confidence to proceed, but he felt in his gut that they were going to survive this. He was reminded, though, that he had felt a lot of things in his gut in the last six months, and many of them had not gone his way.
The elevator went down what felt like two stories, and then everyone got out. They entered a long oak-paneled room. On its walls were bulletin boards containing newspaper clippings, maps, photographs, printouts of emails, and assorted lists. A bank of file cabinets flanked the wall on the left, and on top of them were multiple flat-screen televisions, one of them monitoring the front entrance, the others turned to muted news channels. A bookshelf nearby appeared to house yearbooks and other directories. On the right were four old-fashioned secretarial desks, lined up neatly in a row. On them were computers, printers, a fax machine, and multiline telephones. Across from the desks was a large oval oak conference table, a Harkness table similar to the ones they had in the Chadwick classrooms. Nick noticed that running along the walls and in front of the desks were brass curtain rods that were attached to the ceiling. Velvet curtains in a deep shade of burgundy were pulled aside at all four corners.
It was a conference room in which the meeting participants could either be privy to the mechanics around them, or be completely partitioned off from it.
“You are probably wondering why we have left the curtains open for you.” It was Nick’s father, standing at the other end of the room, in front of a doorway. “We call this the War Room. Some of the Elders wanted to hide our operations, to keep it all under wraps today. But I thought you should see what goes on here before you leave us. I wanted you to see how much work goes into this organization. This room is rarely empty. It is where everything happens, where all your text messages are sent from, via the latest technology. Where we decide when and how we’ll meet. How we have connected you with opportunities. Most of your classmates will never see this.”
The room was a contrast of old and new. The computers were the latest models, but the Edison bulbs and fixtures lighting the room could have been a hundred years old. The burgundy curtains looked like they were from an old Broadway theater house.
Nick looked at Patch, and his brother could merely shake his head.
“What do you think?” Nick whispered.
“I don’t really know,” Patch said.
Nick decided to speak up. “Why are you showing us this?”
“Good question.” Parker looked at the group of four. “I am showing you this because I never want you to take for granted the chance that you were given. The Society is a machine that could have worked for you. But sadly, you have all chosen to throw that away.”
He motioned for them to follow him.
Through the doorway was yet another room, but this one was filled with people.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Lauren was last in line as the four of them were led into the next room. It was octagonal, with black-and-white-striped walls, a glossy white floor, and a dimmed chandelier in the middle. She braced herself for what was to come.
On one side, standing in a row, were their mentors: Charles, Emily, Anastasia, and Hunter, who had been Thad’s mentor.
On the other side was Parker Bell, standing with Katherine Stapleton, the Administrator.
“I think we all know why you four are here,” Parker Bell said. “You have been a disappointment, and so we have decided to grant your wish to be released from the Society.”
“Wait,” Nick said. “What about Phoebe? You promised that Phoebe would be released as well.”
“Miss Dowling will be released by proxy. Her mentor is here. You will all be witness to her de-initiation.”
Anastasia looked as if she was wiping away a tear.
“My five Infidels,” Mr. Bell continued. “I’m sure you know by now that we have called you that. An infidel is a person who doesn’t believe in a religion. You also know the word infidelity. Being untrue. Not being faithful. All of you lack faith. You lack faith, and you lack trust.”
To his left, the four mentors looked dour, as if they, too, had failed.
“Hector, open the doors.”
One of the Guardians opened two of the panels. It revealed an unfinished basement, at the center of which was a giant furnace with an iron door.
“Mentors!” The four mentors stepped forward. They each held forward a plastic mask, the ones from the Night of Rebirth that had each Initiate’s face printed on them. Emily handed Lauren’s to her, and Anastasia handed Phoebe’s to Lauren as well. Hunter handed Thad’s to him. Charles had both Nick’s and Patch’s masks, even though Patch had never been part of that night. He handed one to each of them.
Hector opened the iron door leading to the furnace room. “As you burn the masks,” Parker said, “you will destroy your identity as a member of the Society.”
“Should we do this?” Lauren asked Nick quietly. The heat from the furnace was flowing into the room, raising its temperature.
“I think so,” he said.
Each of the four of them went forward, one by one, and threw his or her mask into the opening of the furnace. The toxic smell of burning plastic was released into the air.
“Now, the scrolls,” Parker said.
The Administrator handed out five scrolls, each representing one of the members, to them. Again, Lauren took Phoebe’s for her. They were the same scrolls they had been shown at the Night of Rebirth.
At Parker’s direction, they each threw the scrolls into the furnace. With an ominous clang, Hector closed the door, which fanned the flames even more.
“The burning represents your forgetting-your forgetting all that went on in the Society. You’ve experienced consequences inside the Society, and now, outside the Society, if you reveal your exploits, you will experience consequences as well. You may wonder why we aren’t asking you to sign nondisclosure agreements.” He paused. “I think you understand that all of this is above the law.”
“What about our tattoos?” Patch said. “How do we get rid of them?”
“We can’t remove your tattoos. You are welcome to try. But as I understand it, faint traces will always remain with you.”
He turned to Nick. “I won’t ask for a copy of that ridiculous film that you all made. I know there are multiple copies out there, and confiscating one copy won’t change that. But I can assure you, if the Society ever sees that film in the public domain, there will be grave consequences for all five of you. If I were you, I would destroy all the copies. That’s the only way you can ensure that your heirs don’t do something silly with them someday.
“Charles, I believe we’re done here. Please escort these four back up to the street.”
In a few minutes they were back on the street. The entire thing had happened quickly, but Lauren still found herself hyperventilating. Her face was warm from the heat in the room, and the cold air outside was bracing. She held on to Thad, as she felt faint.
“That was quite a production,” Patch said.
“I don’t even know what to think about it,” Thad said. “I guess they couldn’t just cut up our membership cards or something, right?”
Nick smiled grimly at Thad’s attempt at a joke. Of course, they all knew that they had no membership cards. They had nothing to prove they had ever been members at all, Lauren realized, except for the tattoos on their necks, markings that could have been obtained at any tattoo parlor.