The Gamekeeper

by J Porteous

  What can only be described as something which used to be human stared back at me. His skin was gnarled and twisted, melted and replaced several times. Wide eyes stared back at me, both eyelids burnt back far beyond their normal coverage. Amongst all of this, burned lips attempted to move.

  ‘You think we’re here just for the girl, don’t you?’ he said, voice rasping with rust. A scratchy laugh escaped his throat. ‘You think we came and burned your city just to get her back?’ His lips curled into what I assumed to be a smile. ‘She is but a beacon which shows we are on the right path, that we are finishing the work which God set out to do. The girl will be ours eventually, the Daughter of Flame will find her way home.’

  ‘She will,’ I said. ‘And it’s not with you.’

  His eyes glinted. ‘With or without us, the Daughter of Flame will change the world.’ He stepped towards the bars of the gate, pressing his rubber-like skin up against the cold metal. ‘You think you’re saving her, don’t you? But from what? Fate keeps her safe, not you.’ His eyes wandered between myself and Thwaite. ‘What does she have with you? Nothing. You scrabble around in the dirt of this world, eking out an existence devoid of meaning. You and your life are worthless.’

  My blood burned inside of my veins, my teeth gritted. He was so close, it would be so simple to reach through the bars and wrap my fingers around his throat, but that would mean taking my hands from the chain. No doubt that was what he wanted. I had to content myself with hissing at him through my teeth. ‘You would kill her once she served her purpose.’

  ‘And you think she’s any safer with you?’ the Father spat. ‘You fear death, you are weak. I, the Children of Ash, we have embraced the destruction of this world, and for it, we are stronger. You crumble and run, just as you did at your precious city. The Daughter of Flame deserves to be with those with purpose, with those who would worship her.’

  Thwaite shifted her weight, leaning back against the chain even further than before as if bracing for an onslaught. ‘Not afraid of death? Are you sure about that?’

  ‘Oh, I’m quite sure,’ the Father replied. ‘Everything dies. Those who embrace it are those who can face what it truly means to be alive.’

  Sounds came from down the tunnel. Nothing loud, just mumbling and sounds of discussion. A whiff of petroleum touched my nostrils. Felix had done his part, and now the fuel was snaking through the cracks in the flagstones of the cellar floor.

  The Father paused for a second, twisting his nose as he took in a deep shuddering breath. ‘This won’t save you,’ he said. ‘If we perish here tonight, then someone else will take out place. Humanity has a common habit of needing to grind itself to dust.’

  ‘It doesn’t have to be that way,’ I said.

  Thwaite chipped in. ‘Hope was just a small example of what can be achieved.’

  ‘And yet here you are, about to burn us all to death, am I correct?’ The Father smiled once more. ‘What makes you any better than us? Light that petrol and you become the same as us.’ He pushed a hand through the bars, open-palmed. ‘We are the same. Come. Join us in the flame.’

  ‘Fuck this,’ Thwaite spat. ‘Light it. Light it now!’

  I passed my length of chain to Thwaite, her body shaking as she pulled it tight. The Father simply held a hand out towards me, not attempting to wrestle the chain free from the door. The crowd behind him were not so placid.

  I rummaged for the flint in my pocket and brought it out to meet the cold air. My hands shook as I struck it, desperate sparks spitting from it. The chanting returned, the cult taking steps towards the iron gate which separated us from them.

  The petroleum now almost reached our own boots, the stench of it giving me a headache. I crouched, striking the flint repeatedly.

  The spark lit. A rush of flame leapt up from the spill and raced back down the corridor, the heat making the night cold disappear in an instant. I fell backwards, the smell of scorched hair overwhelming my nostrils.

  I looked up at Thwaite. She frantically attempted to pat out the flames which grasped at her legs. Others ran forward from the surrounding trees and tackled her to the ground, throwing their coats over her as she flailed around.

  I climbed to my feet, eyes struggling to see past the brightness of the vicious flames. Bodies thrashed beyond the iron gate, hands desperately reaching and groping for the chain which wrapped it shut. It was not there that my eyes were drawn.

  The Father was still stood perfectly in position, hand stretched out towards me with the same odd smile on his face. He gestured to me, motioning for me to reach through the flame and grasp his hand. Even as the flames ate through his clothing, his skin scorching, he made no noise; standing silently.

  I staggered backwards, the smoke threatening to overwhelm me. The other survivors dragged Thwaite away from the heat and into the night air, the fire which lashed her legs now extinguished. I looked back into the tunnel only to see the Father still reaching for me.

  Something tugged at my coat sleeve. A voice called out to me. ‘Gamekeeper? Gamekeeper? David?’

  I tore my eyes from the ones which stared so intently at me. Jessica stood beside me, her eyes fixed on the Father as he burned alive. I instinctively turned her head away. ‘You don’t need to see this.’

  She pushed my hand to one side and looked back towards the Father. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t need to. I want to.’

  I was taken aback. Whoever this girl was who stood in front of me, she was a long way away from the timid and naive girl I had once found in a barn. The world had stripped her of her innocence, but she was stronger for it; forged into a fierce force.

  In that moment, I put my arm around her and watched the flames with her. Thick smoke poured from the cellar doorway, the writhing bodies within and the still form of the Father disappearing from view.

  Hands shook my shoulders. I turned to see Prism, her hand reaching for Jessica’s.

  ‘We need to go,’ she said. ‘We can’t stay out here all night.’

  I looked behind Prism to see that Thwaite and those who came to her aid were stepping away into the darkness. Thwaite limped as best as she could, refusing to be carried.

  Jessica shrugged off Prism’s hand; not in a sign of defiance, but to show that she didn’t need to be coddled any more. Prism glanced at me and gave a small nod. It was time to move.

  The heat was quick to leave as we followed the rest of the survivors into the night. The sky had cleared, and the moon beamed brightly down on us. Shadows of the others wandered ahead of us, features painted silver in the light of the moon.

  We had stayed silent since leaving the mansion, our thoughts trying to digest what had just happened. The only sound to be heard was the quiet and consistent trudge of our footsteps. The stench of scorch still clung to us, the smell thick in my nostrils.

  I looked down at the back of Jessica’s head as she marched onwards. ‘Are you okay?’

  She took a few more steps in silence before she replied. ‘I’m thinking.’

  ‘Thinking?’

  ‘Yes. Thinking.’

  The image of the Father reaching out to us as the flames ate him was firmly stuck in my mind. It was not something anyone should see, let alone a girl of her age. ‘We did what we had to.’

  ‘Yes, I know that.’ Jessica replied. ‘I’m not thinking of that.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘I’m thinking of my father.’

  Even in the low light, I could sense Prism giving me an awkward look. She dropped away, giving us a moment of apparent privacy.

  ‘What about him?’ I asked.

  Jessica stopped in her tracks. She turned her head towards the moon which gazed down upon us. ‘I wonder if he would be proud of what we’ve done? Of me?’

  I put my arm around her and followed her gaze towards the silver circle in the sky. ‘If you were my daughter, I would be. I’m sure he is too.’

  Jessica pressed her head firmly against me. ‘I think Toby and Cait would be proud
of you too.’

  My eyes welled, a lump filling my throat. We stood there in the quiet and gazed up at the moon as one.

  Epilogue

  I sat on a bench, the sun’s heat somehow managing to penetrate the thinner areas of cloud and ash and warming my face. I smiled. It was like the dream again, but now something was different.

  A child ran and laughed, jumping onto the poorly-made roundabout; the rickety disc spinning while groaning at the strain. The child was not Toby, no, but I could see her face, the heartfelt smile cracking her dirty complexion.

  Slender fingers locked between my own. For a moment I recoiled, such a sensation seeming so alien still, then relaxed into the feeling. I squeezed back.

  Prism sat next to me, her own smile forcing the scarring around her mouth away. ‘It’s good to see her enjoying herself.’

  I turned my eyes back to Jessica, her hair whirling wildly as she spun around, laughter spilling from her mouth. ‘It is,’ I replied.

  Prism turned towards me. ‘I could say the same for you too.’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘I saw that smile,’ she said wryly. ‘That grumpy and serious face you used to wear is slowly falling off.’

  I laughed at that. ‘Sometimes the grumpy face is needed.’

  ‘Sometimes.’ Prism pulled herself closer, resting her head on my shoulder. ‘But they’re gone, we both saw it. We’ve got other, more important things to worry about now.’

  I had seen the proof. Myself, Thwaite, and a small group of volunteers had gone back to the mansion to check over what was left. It wasn’t a pretty sight. The stench of burnt flesh had clung to me for days afterwards, but the plan had worked. The Children of Ash had finally lived up to their name; their forms scorched into statues of their final moments.

  Still, if there was one thing I had learned, it was that being complacent of danger was a danger in itself. ‘We can’t let our guard down entirely. That’s how we’re going to stay safe.’

  Prism did not respond. We both watched Jessica playing in silence. She wheeled around on the roundabout again, laughing without a care in the world. I envied her in that sense.

  Something tore through the undergrowth, bounding through the long grass. A dog came charging into the open, making a bee-line for Jessica.

  ‘Reece!’

  The dog paused hesitantly, looking back in the direction of the voice.

  Prism pulled her scarf back over her mouth and sighed. ‘I knew the peace and quiet wouldn’t last.’

  I smirked. ‘Does it ever?’

  Felix breathlessly ran into view. He still had a slight limp, but it was much improved after some rest. Once he had barricaded the cellar door and poured the petroleum in, the few cult members who had panicked had tried to fight their way out, but he held the door firm; even if it did mean that the leg he had braced against it had taken a battering.

  Jessica jumped off of the roundabout and ran towards Reece, the dog leaping up to lick her face. She waved absent-mindedly at Felix. Felix smiled and nodded back.

  His eyes turned to Prism and I, a sheepish expression crossing his face. ‘Sorry, was I interrupting something?’

  ‘No more than you usually do,’ I said.

  Felix grinned. ‘You’d complain if it were any other way, David.’

  I stood and sighed, stretching out my back. ‘I suppose I would.’ I nodded towards the dog. ‘Giving Marcus a bit of peace and quiet?’

  ‘Can’t get rid of the bloody thing,’ Felix replied. ‘As much as I’ve tried.’

  ‘Lay off it,’ Prism said with a laugh. ‘You spoil him enough.’

  Felix smiled and shrugged. ‘Maybe.’

  I watched as Jessica fussed over Reece, ruffling her hands through his old coat of fur. ‘I take it you’re not here for the pleasant walk?’

  ‘You’ve seen straight through me,’ Felix said, holding his palms out. ‘Thwaite wants to see you. A new group has just turned up.’

  ‘How many?’

  ‘Not many. Seven or eight.’

  It wasn’t the first group we’d had arrive since we’d started to build Phoenix. Some were wanderers from Hope, others simply coming to us by chance. Either way, they were assessed and put to work where their skills would suit. We only had one rule; work your worth.

  ‘I’ll come back with you,’ Prism said, standing from the makeshift bench. ‘I’m due watch duty soon.’ She waved at Jessica, getting her attention. ‘Jess, we’re heading back.’

  Jessica looked up from Reece, her hair stuck to the slobber which covered her face. ‘I’ll walk with Felix, if that’s okay?’

  ‘Of course,’ I said. ‘He needs someone to help him with that hobble of his.’

  ‘Well, she seems to have done wonders for your temperament,’ Felix said. ‘Maybe she can fix this duff leg too?’

  I snorted a laugh. ‘See you back in town.’

  Prism and I walked hand-in-hand through the thick grass, long shoots being crushed beneath our feet. The hill beside Phoenix wasn’t high, but it allowed for a little privacy and some respite from the relentless scurrying of people working on building the town.

  From the edge of the hill, Phoenix could be seen in all of its glory. The old petrol depot had done us well, giving us a solid footing to carve a new life out of. The petrol stash made a good living as both fuel and a valuable commodity to trade. Marcus had been welcoming, and, if I was being honest, I think he enjoyed the company.

  Prism took a deep breath as she took in the view. ‘He was right, you know?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The Father.’

  I frowned. ‘The Father?’

  ‘In a way,’ Prism replied, letting her eyes gently slide towards mine. ‘He said they needed to burn away the evil from the world in order to start again, and that’s exactly what we did.’

  ‘But we did what we had to. Our hand was forced.’

  ‘And in their mind, so was theirs,’ Prism replied. She tugged my hand. ‘Come on, we’ve both got jobs waiting.’

  We walked towards Phoenix together, hand-in-hand, a glimpse of sun breaking the cloud cover. I smiled.

  The past was a permanent thing. It was something that scarred you, shaped you, a burden you carried with you. It could never be altered, no matter how painful. The present was an altogether different beast. It could be shaped. It could be influenced.

  I decided I had to carve my own path to happiness, wielding my past as a tool to shape the present. I squeezed Prism’s hand as Jessica ran through the long grass, laughing.

  It would be a better life, for all of us.

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