The Emperor

by N. M. Brown

  Thoughts of Adin still spun in her head, images of Flick as a small boy and that abyss…

  Crouched in front of her, dark shadows across his face, McQueen shook her again. “Echo we need a plan. We need to get out of this together.” He pleaded, fear in his voice while sweat had begun to collect on his brow. The saint was scared; he was worried for their safety, but she would bet he was more concerned about the God-damn children.

  Fingers clamped, Echo swung a fist and sucker punched the Detective’s jaw. “What did you do?” She hissed rubbing at her fist.

  “What was that for?” He snarled.

  “I guess it depends on what you did?” Shoving by, she was annoyed to see her two guards had been joined by McQueen’s and they now faced six ugly, menacing teens. Narrowing her steel gaze, she fumed at the Detective. “We were finding an exit. That was the plan; find an exit and leave. I did my part; I found an exit. What did you do, or better yet, who did you try a save?”

  To McQueen’s defence, he was smart enough to look a little ashamed, but it didn’t last long, his brow furrowing at his own annoyance. “I was trying to get information of who killed Wendall and trying to build some kind of repour with them." He snapped back, “I have a job to do and as much as I would like to leave, I can’t just abandon everyone down here without trying! I can’t be heartless like you!”

  "Oh, please!” Echo exclaimed, “I might be heartless, be at least I have a brain. There are no school here Queenie, no teachers, no educators. These kids grunt and scream and use their fists to convey their meaning. And even if by some miracle you did find a kid who can speak, they live in fear of Shade. They'd would have never told you anything. You waisted your time."

  McQueen seethed. “At least I tried.”

  “And look what good it did us! We’re back in this hole, with no exit route and the clocks run out.” Echo sat back, keeping as much distance between herself and McQueen as she could. She just might throttle him otherwise.

  "Have you even thought about Mitch? Has his clock run out too?” McQueen pointed a righteous finger at Echo, his tone accusing.

  "Of course, I have." She scoffed. If Echo was honest, she could rightly say she had forgotten but that was hardly her fault: there were so many missing kids, dead kids and kids he wanted to save. It was hard to keep track.

  "Liar." Hissing in disgust, McQueen kept talking, his anger growing. Not one to back down from a fight, Echo faced him, ready for every accusation and every insult. "You were all for running off down here." He snapped. "You were all for helping find Mitch when it was a benefit to you. Find this Dixie, pacify you family; well where are you now Echo? You don’t have you Dixie, you can’t help your family, so why are you running? Since the minute we got here..." McQueen trailed off, his anger getting the better of him and Echo was happy to cut in.

  “From the minute we got here I’ve been focused on our survival! Without me you wouldn’t have lasted a minute down here.” Like a cold-water dunk, Echo felt every bit of energy drain from her body and huffed out a breath. “We both got into this mess. You have no badge down here, no authority and I -… I hadn’t forgotten about Mitch.”

  The dug-out grew quiet as McQueen too, seemed to lose all the fight from his bones and slumped too. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Wrapping her arms tightly around her legs, Echo heard her voice grow distant and hollow. It was like someone else was speaking for her because of those damn memories. Bubbling to the surface along side McQueen’s cries for justice, Echo couldn’t help but merge the two.

  “Being back in this place… being back in Shade’s world, it's hard to ignore his fate. Falling back into that-..." She took a breath, looking for the right word, "This world, I know what Mitch will be going through. I know because I went through it. He’ll be scared; terrified even. He'll be hiding in a hole somewhere crying, shaking, making every boy and girl here know he's weak. If they don't ignore him, they'll taunt him, poke him, scare him. They'll piss on him, or string him up or tie him down..."Echo shivered and tucked her chin back up against her legs.

  “And you just want to leave him here?” McQueen asked, his voice dripping with disbelief.

  But even at his rage, Echo couldn’t find the energy to explain why he still didn’t get it. He was too… saintly. "We were only eight when Adin and I were sent here. We were tough, hard and made quick allies... but there were other kids, fresh, clean kids who just-... didn't make it." Finally, she glanced up and looked McQueen directly in the face. "Mitch won’t make it here, Queenie and that’s if he’s not already dead."

  "So, we get him out. You said you’ve found the exit? So, what do we do? How do we get there?" He asked.

  But Echo was already shaking her head. “It’s too late. We blew it.” Nodding her head to their guards, she gave McQueen a sad, pitiful smile that said it all. “We’ll leave now only on Shade’s terms.”

  "So, we're trapped?"

  “Something like that?” Echo replied, but she was distracted. The guards outside were chattering; low and quietly, it sounded like frightened birds and she didn’t like that one bit.

  Shooting McQueen a troubled look, they both moved quickly, placing their backs against the wall and faced whatever approached. The chattering continued, no longer keeping quiet and Echo could sense their growing excitement. It was the same thick taste that enveloped Mara’s Midnight Suite. Blood lust was not to be trifled with.

  The guards suddenly snapped aside and, in the darken archway, holding a candle stood Tigress, dressed to impress. Gone were her layers of fur and wraps; instead, she wore a dress that hung off the shoulder, covered in bright decretive stitching with tassels. It swayed around her knees and was synched at the waist by some lose leather cords. Her hair was platted, and Echo looked at the woman with a crytical eye. there was no bump, no curve to her stomach... yet, anyway.

  "Well. I’m glad to see we're all sitting comfortably." Her young, soothing voice said, but it didn’t last. “Get up." Tigress snapped and Echo knew that this was it. This was their final call.

  "We don't get to freshen up?" She pleaded in a sarcastic tone, pleased to see that she still had the nerve to do so.

  "No." Tigress threw them a bitter smile. "Shade likes it when things get... messy."

  Reluctantly, McQueen stood and Echo followed. They might be at odd ends, but they were in this together and if anyone was going to get a miracle that would see them through it, it was the holy saint by her side.

  PENTACLES OF FOUR

  (Reversed)

  Self-protection, Desire for Security

  XXX

  McQueen was beyond the point hating this miserable Hell where he stood. Once again, he and Echo were in the centre of the Great Hall, knife points at their back while they faced Shade.

  He sat lounged on his throne again, its twisted roots gnarled and savage like his rule, his smile cunning and with a promise of pain. Tigress stood beside him, her chin high and eyes full of excitement for what was to come. And last, but by no means least, the hordes of raging children screaming around him; their cries deafening. Shade didn’t bother quieten them, nor did he seemed inclined to make them stop any time soon, so they kept going, eager and ready to tear McQueen and Echo apart.

  Swallowing hard, he watched with a stony expression as Tigress, in her new fancy clothes, raised her chin slightly. At her minute movement, everone stilled , their voices falling into silence and allowed for their King to rise and address them. The hordes trembled like a hive of bee’s, each child rolling on their feet as they looked to their leader.

  He smiled down at the them, but it was a bitter smile. "Brothers," His voice ran out across the crowd. "Sisters. Welcome.”

  A hallowing, thunderous roar went through the crowd and McQueen felt the blood thirsty call in every vibration. Feet stamped, and weapons clanked; all banging against the walls or floor, even each other. McQueen tried to raise himself up to empower himself; back straight, head held high. If he could be inti
midating, he might fool himself into thinking they could live through this, but even as he shifted on his knees, the butt of a stick was rammed into his back. Bowing forward, McQueen let out a hiss as his forehead touched the floor.

  “Tonight, we celebrate!” Shade called and stood with a mighty heave, rising her arms above his head. McQueen saw the children shiver in apprehension, sliding around the crowd like a ghostly shadow. “We are honoured to have guests. They are a reminder of what we all hate and despise.”

  The roar of approval soared again and beneath the thunder, McQueen quickly turned to Echo. "What are they going to do?" he asked, eyes darting round the hungry looking savages.

  “Kill us, beat us and use our dead, rotting corpses for some nefarious propaganda, I'm sure.” Echo answered, hissing as she was kicked just like McQueen just had been. That didn’t stop her from driving her point home, however. “Of course, we’ll only be lucky if he does it in that order.”

  Another bare foot slammed into Echo’s back and they decided to do the same McQueen too for good measure. Head still ringing with the sound of screams, it took him a little longer to hear what Shade was saying and when he did, his gut dropped.

  “Subjects before me, heard my words; these liars and thieves has come to our home with false pretences and whispers of a better world.” Shade was patrolling now, his gate relaxed as he made sure to address every single one of his people. They knew who was in charge. They knew who to look up to. He made sure of it. “My trusted have come to me with whispers; whispers of family’s made up of Elders. Whispers of our beloved sisters and brothers slain by such Elders, and yet they want us to join them.”

  “That’s a lie. You kill-,” But McQueen was silenced and felt the butt of a stick once more.

  In his defence, he had a small semblance of a plan which was simple: break Shade’s hold. No followers, no leader, no cult; but with them all high on a drug un-obtainable anywhere else but here, McQueen had doubts. It wasn’t going to be easy.

  “Listen to them!” Shade laughed, his followers joining him. “Still they try. But I know. I always know.” Slowly, sitting back at his throne, Shade levelled his gaze at his two prisoners and sneered.

  “Elders. You are charged with the crime of being boring-,” A cheer rang out, “Of growing up-,” Another circled the room, “And most of all, you are charged with treason against I, King of the Under-ert!”

  “We just want the innocent children you haven’t corrupted.” He yelled before the cheers of the children could drown him out. Bracing for the pain of the butt of a stick, McQueen was surprised when a knife sliced his shoulder blade, hissing as warm blood dribbled down his back.

  “Corrupted? I haven’t corrupted anyone!” Shade laughed, “My subjects are loyal to me because they want to be here, they want to be with me!” Throwing his arms wide, he indicated to the gathered masses. “They choose to be here. They choose me over their life up there. They choose my freedom, my rule, my kingdom!”

  “That’s not true!” McQueen argued back. “You trick them down here; you force feed them a drug, trapping them here with you. A drug only you can get. Without you they wouldn’t survive, that is the only reason they stay. They have loving families waiting for them, who love them. You are nothing but a-,”

  But McQueen’s speech turned into curdled screams as two knives plunged into his back. Luckily, these children knew nothing of kidneys, livers or anywhere else that would have killed him. Instead, they stabbed at his arm muscles and his fatty hips.

  Breathing heavily through the pain, McQueen tried to see if his words were having any effect but was sorely disheartened. None of the children seem sad. None of them seemed swayed. If anything, they looked even more eager, ready to attack on command.

  “I force nothing Lawman. My subjects are my brothers. They are my people and are loyal through blood." Shade replied, like he was explaining the concept to a small child. "Tell me Lawman, what do the Elders above offer that I cannot? Love? I love my people; they are loyal to me for that love. I care for them and they thank me for that. I give them peace and freedom that no Elder from the Upper lands could do. I am a gift like no other.”

  “More than a gift.” Tigress interjected, joining Shade at the front. She caressed down his arm, her fingers hesitant like he were a divine being, too perfect to touch. “Our King is far superior to you and all those above. He is blessed with immortality and blesses us too.” She snarled.

  “Hush my Tigress.” Shade soothed but gave her no affectionate touch back. He merely pushed her side like she was in his limelight. “No need to impress them with my immortality. They'll be dead soon enough.”

  And there it was. Their fate. McQueen felt his convictions shrivel up at the truth. Shade fully intended to kill them here. He couldn’t talk his way out of this. The muscles in McQueen’s neck gave out and he sucked down a deep breath, his chin on his chest. Suddenly the world seemed so far away and all that he’d been avoiding before were nothing but silly problems of a coward.

  Anna, his wife would always wonder what could have happened. If he died now, she’d never know if he loved her or if they still stood a chance. The truth was, he didn’t know if he loved her anymore, or if he could ever forgive her. He wanted to know if he could.

  Hale, on the other hand, would never forgive him. He’d run away like a newbie; his gun half-cocked and made a mess of everything. No wonder Armstrong looked at him with such distain. McQueen was a failure. He couldn’t do his job right and he was just a drain of Hale. His partner wouldn’t find him down here in time to save them, that was for sure. McQueen would be the unsolved mystery of the Rippling Police Station: the detective who went missing, presumed dead because he just couldn’t let a case go.

  And then there was Sage. God above, McQueen’s heart tripped as he thought of Sage. It shouldn’t have given out, he shouldn’t have even been thinking about her in his final moments, but he did. She wouldn’t know how he felt; if he felt anything for her though he knew he did. In his soul – may God have mercy on it – he did have feelings for her, and he’d never get to tell her. She was kind and good and a breath of fresh air he didn’t even know he’d been craving and now she would wonder with the rest of the world what had happened.

  Still on his knees McQueen looked to Echo who knelt in silence and wondered what might be running through her mind now. Did she regret coming down here? Did she regret choosing to help him? Did she have a loved one she’d miss or didn’t get to say goodbye too?

  With a thunderclap, Shade brought the crowd to attention and McQueen looked up to face his end, seeing the boy King look down on them like the cat had got the cream.

  “But,” He mused out loud, and McQueen wondered what horrors this child was going to think up. “What kind of King would I be if I didn’t give you a taste of hope? What kind of ruler would I be if I were fair?”

  From the shadows of one of the tunnels, the crowds parted to revile three figures emerging and as the light from the candles welcomed the new arrivals, McQueen caught his breath. From and centre walked a boy and a girl who McQueen recognized, their roguish, Latino features marking them as sibling. The sister, her sun-shine flowery dress still crusty and ripped, only made eye contact with McQueen briefly, before she quickly looked away, but he saw enough. Red rimmed and puffy, the girl had been crying. Behind them came no third sibling and McQueen started to doubt if that was a coincidence.

  Between them, they dragged another and despite the horrible feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach, McQueen’s heart did leap with joy. Tall and skinny, this boy still wore baby fat around his face. He had a slightly slopped nose, messy brown hair, a grey dinosaur t-shirt, jeans covered in dirt and limped with only one red trainer. Mitch Bell.

  “You have come as heroes to defend and save, rescues and free our new brothers in arms?” Shade questioned, admiring his newest recruit like a proud general. “Well now we shall see if such services are warranted.”

  McQueen struggled with
every fibre of his being not to race to Mitch; not to grab him while he could and steal him away from here. But he couldn’t, not in this crowd, not as a prisoner. Instead, he looked Mitch over, seeing if he was ok. Dirt covered him but he was clean enough, tears streaked his face, but he wasn’t hurt. McQueen thanked God again and again for this small factor. That was until Shade drew the attention of the crowd again.