by J Porteous
Prism replaced her scarf and led me back into the crowds, elegantly snaking her way through the mass of bodies. I bumbled after her, knocking into the people she had somehow missed. Every time I thought I had lost her, I saw her distinctive glasses and scarf once more.
We reached one of the quieter areas of the mall, a number of corridors leading out of the main area. She approached one, and we descended into the haphazardly lit gloom. A number of drunks slept rough beneath one of the lights, still sleeping off last night’s drink, a host of bottles surrounding them.
Prism walked over them, and I followed. One of them moaned as I clipped her with my boot, but it wasn’t enough to rouse her. I watched Prism as she walked further through the corridor. Here was someone who I had only recently seen part of their face, let alone known anything else about them; and here I was following them into some dark and shady place where no one would find my body if the worst happened.
Just when did I get into the habit of trusting strangers? There was a reason I had never settled in any of the settlements I had worked as a gamekeeper, and that was because I could not trust them. I had seen and heard enough stories in my travels of those who turned on friends when things got desperate; all I had to do to stay safe was to not have any.
Prism stopped outside of a rusted door. ‘I swear it was this one.’ She gripped the handle and put her whole weight into turning the stiff thing. It groaned and fought, but it eventually gave way.
The room itself was unassuming. Even in the dark it was plain, save for a number of old metal shelving units, each of them heavily rusted. Drops of water leaked from the ceiling, running down and creating orange pools on the floor.
I looked around, unsure of what I was looking for. ‘Are you sure this is it?’
‘Just give me a moment.’ Prism pulled something from the bag which she carried over her one shoulder. I squinted in the darkness to see it, but it soon became apparent what it was. With a brief winding noise, a bright white light appeared.
I held a hand up to shield my eyes from the sudden brightness.
‘Sorry,’ Prism said. ‘Should’ve warned you.’
I peered through my fingers. Prism stood grinning in the new light, her scarf pulled down around her neck. The shelves threw dark shadows up across the damp ceiling panels, and her glasses were now propped up on the top of her head. In her hand was a lantern with a crank handle, something I had not seen in a long while. ‘Where did you get that?’ I asked. ‘The ones I’ve seen working cost their owners a small fortune.’
Prism cut a wicked grin across her face, her dark eyes boring into me. ‘Like I said, I have many eyes in this city, and that means I know when things I want come into Hope and where to get them.’
‘So you stole it?’
She looked at the lamp and shrugged. ‘I’d say it was a reacquisition for a good cause.’
‘And what good cause is that?’
Her eyes flicked back up to mine. ‘I help filter out the darkness in this world. We all need a little more light, don’t you think? Why else would you be helping the young girl?’
Her words touched something within me. Had I been ignoring other people as I disassociated myself from humanity as a whole? Had there been others out there fighting for a better world who I had just passed over, too wrapped up in myself? A pang of guilt hit me.
‘I see the light in you too,’ Prism said. ‘It’s just been buried, that’s all. Everything can be unearthed.’
I looked around the room now that the light was here. ‘So, where are we going?’
‘Over here.’ She placed the lantern on the floor and shifted one of the shelving units, its metal feet squealing across the concrete. Behind the shelf was a loose grate, and Prism prised it away with ease. She stepped back and gestured towards it.
‘Through there?’
‘Through there,’ she repeated. ‘It’s the only way through that I know of.’
It was my only chance to possibly see Jessica again; I had to take it. ‘Lead the way.’
The ventilation shaft was tight. Prism climbed in ahead of me. Her body partially blocked the light of the lantern, leaving me in a strange twilight. I shuffled forward, claustrophobia setting in. There was no way to turn around; if I needed to retreat, it would be a slow and panicked reverse back to the room we were just in.
I kept my hand in front of me, touching the bottom of Prism’s boots to keep me centred and keep me from panicking. If I was left alone without a light, I had little doubt that I would be trapped in here until I died.
Prism’s boots disappeared, and light spilt into my vision. She had found the end of the vent and had dropped out, landing in a room which reeked of damp and mould. She picked herself up and held her lantern high. ‘We’re here.’
I squeezed myself through the last section of the vent and dropped to the floor. My body shook painfully, all of my bruises and cuts reminding me that they were present and correct. I forced myself to my knees, drawing heavy breaths.
Prism wrapped an arm around me and helped me to my feet. ‘Harvey’s thugs did a pretty good number on you then?’
I lurched forward once more. ‘That’s one way of putting it.’
Prism led the way, her lantern creating a spot of light in the never-ending darkness. ‘I’ve always wanted to find a way to get them out of Hope. Looks like someone else has beaten me to the punch.’
My mind returned the smell of charred flesh to me. ‘Still, not a good way to go.’
Prism spat on the floor. ‘Harvey and his thugs were responsible for a lot of pain in Hope. Drugs and child prostitution mostly. If they hadn’t burnt here, they would have burnt in hell in the end anyway. I’m glad they suffered.’
‘I can attest to that.’ I watched the walls as they passed, the paint flaking off in huge chunks and coating the floor beneath us. ‘Where exactly are we?’
‘Old service tunnels,’ Prism said. She reached up and knocked her hand against a large metal pipe, the sound carrying down the empty corridor. ‘Electricity, water, and heating for the old mall were run down here from what I can figure out.’
‘And no one comes down here any more? Even with the electricity in Hope?’
‘It’s a different grid,’ Prism replied. ‘They found a great stash of undamaged solar panels in Old Oxford and brought them back here. They put some people who used to be electrical engineers to use, and there you go, one working city. It’s still not perfect, but it’s better than none at all.’
‘I haven’t seen anything run on electricity since the cities were burnt.’
‘Shit,’ she said. ‘What’s that now? Nine or ten years?’
‘Something like that.’
‘Well, Hope has been here for the past three. I’m surprised you didn’t find anyone talking about it sooner.’
A sheepishness came over me. ‘I didn’t really like talking to people. Still don’t.’
Prism stepped over a number of collapsed pipes which were scattered on the floor. ‘You find it hard to trust people, don’t you? To know someone?’
‘Trusting the wrong people will get you killed out there.’
‘And trusting the right ones might save your life.’
The darkness of the underground tunnel pressed in on us once more. Prism wound the lantern again, the glow increasing and forcing back the shadows. We walked for what seemed like an eternity, with the seemingly same walls passing us again and again. Eventually, we came to a door with a damaged exit sign above it.
Prism opened the door to reveal a small room with a ladder ascending in the centre of it. The rungs were wet and slippery with moss, no doubt a tricky climb.
‘Someone’s been through here,’ Prism said. ‘And recently.’
I stepped towards her to see what she had seen. On the ground, beneath the ladder, there was a collection of broken moss and rust, each stamped down as if they were pressed by several feet. ‘This has to be them.’ I said, crouching to examine the marks. ‘There�
��s some kind of oil in among it all, I’m assuming that is what they used to burn Harvey and his thugs.’
Prism squinted at the ground. ‘I don’t see it,’ she replied. ‘But I’ll go by your word, Gamekeeper. I have my inklings that other people use these tunnels too, but this seems too much of a coincidence.’
I looked up the ladder, squinting to see past the glow of the lantern. ‘Where does it go?’
‘An old service area, just outside of the city.’
If I was going to find Jessica, I needed to take this chance. I looked at Prism. ‘I don’t know how to thank you.’
She laughed. ‘What makes you think I’m going back? My eyes in the city will keep me informed of anything I miss. I want to see what’s beyond those walls. It’s been a long time since I’ve gone outside of the city’s walls.’
‘I don’t want to drag another person into this,’ I said. ‘I’ve seen who we’re after. They’re dangerous. I don’t want another person on my conscience.’
‘So you do have a heart,’ Prism said, a smile on her lips. ‘It’s just cracking the surface, but it appears to be there.’ She laughed at her own words. ‘Don’t worry about me, Gamekeeper, I can handle myself. Think of me as simply heading in the same direction as you, nothing to actually do with you. Will that help your conscience?’
I hated to admit it, but it would. Travelling solo meant you only had to care and look after one thing, yourself. I’d had people to look after before; it didn’t end well. ‘If anything happens, you get back to Hope and warn them, understand?’
She nodded. ‘I get it, don’t you worry.’ She looked up at the ladder. ‘Well, we’re not going to get anywhere just staring at it, are we?’
Chapter Nine
The service area turned out to be nothing more than a run-down metal shed. A crack of light came through a buckled door on one wall, vegetation creeping in to reclaim the floors and walls. Ivy snaked along the walls, its large leaves looking at odds with the rusted metal of the shed walls.
Prism prised open one of several drawers which lay abandoned, the runners screeching against the intrusion.
‘Anything interesting?’ I asked.
‘No,’ she replied, pushing the drawer back in. ‘This place was picked clean long ago. Judging by the nature creeping in through that busted door, I’d say it’s been a good while.’
I surveyed the bleak room. A crowd of bird nests were nestled among the older shelving units, all dead and brittle twigs. ‘At least this place is going to some use.’
‘You mean apart from being the backdoor into Hope?’
The buckled door was open wide enough that I could slink through without touching the thing. The shed was surrounded by a chain-link fence, the gate padlocked shut. Beside the gate was a hole cut in the fence which was more than big enough to crawl through.
The ground around the hole was freshly torn up by numerous boots. I scrabbled through the hole on my hands and knees and examined the other side. The shed itself was protected by a thick host of thorn bushes which curled around it. This wasn’t some casual side entrance; whoever wanted to brave the thorns and the pitch black tunnels below ground had to be determined to use it.
‘Hey,’ Prism called. ‘Come look at this.’
She stood over a host of tracks, all mingling with each other in the slushy snow. It was impossible to distinguish the footprints from each other, but it was evident that a group had passed through here recently.
‘Do you think this is them?’
The moss and rust from the bottom of the ladder spotted the ground. Several sets of footprints. What happened in Harvey’s den wasn’t the work of one man. It was the only lead I had, and if it was who I think it was, there was no way I was going to leave Jessica to whatever fate the cult had for her. ‘It’s our only option.’
‘What do you want to do?’
I looked up at her, her glasses and scarf now firmly back in place. ‘We get Jessica back.’
I set off once more into the wilderness, my drive renewed and somewhat dulling the pains which my body shot at me. I was pushing myself too hard, I had little doubt of that, but I needed to make good time if we were going to catch up with whoever’s tracks these were.
Not only did our prey have a head start, but the melting winter snow caused their tracks to fade in and out of existence. We came across patches of visible grass, the combined weight of their footsteps crushing an easily findable path to follow. Sometimes it was straightforward, other times they deviated their route. Either way, they did not work too hard to hide their passing, if at all.
These cultists are fearless, they have no need to hide their tracks. I paused myself just short of laughing. Although the idea of a fire-worshipping cult seemed farcical after what had happened to the cities, it never paid to underestimate the will of your enemies; whether you concluded them mad or not. Those with the least understandable motives were the most unpredictable.
The trail lasted for miles. The adrenaline and fire in me drained as I pushed on, those nagging aches and pains slowly becoming more painful and debilitating. I shrugged it off as best as I could, but I did not know how long my body could hold out. We were led through thick scrubland, onto more open roads, and through barren orchards.
My pace dwindled, my feet now almost dragging through the slush. My chest hurt as I sucked in tired breaths, each in-breath seeming to stretch my lungs further than they were designed. Keep on going. You’re not dead yet, and Jessica needs you. You’re the only person she has on this shit-hole of a planet.
An arm grabbed me, stopping me in my tracks. Prism pulled me back and pointed towards a host of buildings on the horizon. ‘Look, smoke.’
I looked up and saw that she was correct. Behind a gathering of stone cottages was a plume of smoke, rising up and joining the dark clouds. My heart quickened. It wasn’t as large as the black plume which had once been Community, but it did not mean that anything less evil was happening. Perhaps it is just the start. I walked onwards without another word.
Prism quickly joined my pace. ‘What are we going to do?’
‘I don’t know,’ I answered truthfully. ‘We’ll have to see what happens when we get there.’
‘Your shotgun, that should come in useful.’
‘I’ve only got one shell.’
‘Oh. Well, that’s that plan off the table.’ She rustled through the host of small bags attached to her belt. ‘I’ve got an old locking knife. A bit rusty, but should do the trick if push comes to shove.’
I let my hand rest on the handle of my own blade. ‘Hopefully it should be all that we need.’
The collection of stone cottages became clearer as we closed in. It looked to be an old farmhouse and its own grouping of barns and outhouses. Voices could be heard as we closed in, the crackling of flames becoming evident.
I pressed myself against the cold stone of one of the barns and looked at Prism. ‘This isn’t your fight,’ I said. ‘If you want to go, I won’t blame you. I’ve seen what these people can do.’
‘I need to see what this cult is capable of,’ Prism said. ‘If they present a real danger, then I can feed that information back into Hope. They will be ready.’
I nodded. ‘Keep close. Let’s see what’s going on before we make any decisions.’
We crept around the side of the barn. One of the wooden doors had rotted from its hinges, allowing us to sneak inside without any fuss. The barn was large and empty, showing the signs of years of neglect. Part of the roof had caved in, grey light flooding in and illuminating the solid stone floor. Two small windows were positioned on either side, one overlooking where the smoke came from.
I peered over the ledge and looked onto a bizarre scene. In the centre of the courtyard was a pyre like the ones I had witnessed at Community, thankfully bereft of any bodies. The fire was recent, the flames eating their way up the wooden structure and fanning out to the tightly packed straw which stuffed it. As terribly mesmerising as the fire was, it w
as the people around it who drew most of my concern.
A host of people surrounded the fire, chanting in guttural tones and holding their hands high above their heads and towards the heightening flames. They were a collection of men and women, all suffering burns to their bodies to varying degrees. As they chanted and hollered, they held their hands as close to the flames as possible for as long as possible, grimacing at the searing pain.
Prism crouched next to me, peering at the scene with wide eyes. ‘Fuck me.’
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from what I was watching. ‘Believe me when I say this is sane compared to what I’ve seen them do.’
‘Flames wash the unclean away.’
I glanced at Prism. ‘What?’
‘It’s what they’re chanting,’ she said. ‘It’s what they’re saying as they are holding their hands to the fire.’
I thought back to my encounter with the cultists in the church. ‘They said something about returning the whole world to ash, as a way to completely eradicate the dirt the plague brought.’
‘They really are mad, aren’t they?’
I looked back at the chaotic scene. ‘They don’t think so.’
We watched in horrified silence as the cultists moved closer and closer to the flames. The fire reached its peak, the pyre now fully engulfed in flames. An older man stepped forward, his half-stripped body already covered in a multitude of burns.
As much as it repulsed me, I couldn’t take my eyes from him. He approached the pyre, arms spread wide and plunged his face into the flames. He screamed and howled in agony, his body shaking as he held his head in place. The others cheered and watched in pride, I even thought I saw envy on some of their faces.
The man pulled himself out, his face a reddened and scorched mess, his skin peeling and blistered. It was obvious that the man was in an incredible amount of pain, but he held his hands high in triumph, stumbling around blind before the others guided him to a spot outside of the circle. He sat there and mumbled, his melted lips almost dripping together as he spoke.
