The other two corners had each received jarring thuds in their history. One had its nails, still visible, protruding from the bamboo fibres. That corner was out. They had no way to cut through the exposed nails. The final corner, then.
This one sported multiple dents from where someone had banged heavily at it. Jamie made out a splintered crack where it had been lifted. A hasty attempt to patch over the holes with some kind of filler had been made. A poor job. That, Jamie decided, was their exit point.
Bok bok bok bok bok.
Knocking on a bamboo bar, thrusting Jamie from his thoughts. It was the Speaker from earlier in the tunnel. The sound woke the others, jolting them from their positions on the floor.
“Ngh?” Donny said, rolling over onto his side.
He slapped his lips before getting to his feet. Pulled up his pants, a little loose around the waist, and put a hand to his head, where he’d received the sharp stone expelled by the sling. A matching pair of bumps now. Both tender to the touch.
“The Preacher will meet you now,” the Speaker said.
“Get up guys,” Jamie said. “The leader here wants us.”
“Not all of you,” the Speaker said. “Just two.”
“Two?” Donny said. “Why?”
“It’s not my place to ask questions,” the Speaker said. “Choose. And be quick about it.”
“I’ll go,” Jamie said.
“I’m the oldest and I’m in charge,” Donny said.
“You’ll get angry,” Jamie said. “You’ll fight. You’ll make things worse.”
Donny thrust his chin out, preparing to argue, say he was wrong and start an argument. Then he realized he’d only be proving Jamie’s point.
“Fine,” he said. “But you’re not going on your own. I’ll go with you.”
“No,” Jamie said. “You need to stay here.”
“Like hell, I will,” Donny said. “Dad sent me to look after you.”
“You need to stay here,” Jamie said, making it clear there were other reasons.
Donny, thankfully, caught it. He frowned, not clear what those reasons were.
“Take Fatty, then,” Donny said.
Fatty, God bless him, was an honest and reliable friend, but he wasn’t the one to take into high-pressure situations.
“I’ll take Lucy,” Jamie said.
Donny eyed Lucy uncertainly.
“Are you sure?” he said. “If something happens, she’s not strong enough to help you out.”
“You underestimate her,” Jamie said.
He knew more about her ability than the others. For some reason, she’d opened up to him and not them.
“Done?” the Speaker said.
“Almost,” Jamie said.
He wrapped his arms around his brother as if they were usually affectionate with one another (Ha!). He whispered in his brother’s ear.
“Raise Fatty and lift up the battered upper corner of the cell,” he said.
“Which one?” Donny said, not looking up.
They parted so Jamie could motion with his eyes.
“I got you,” Donny said.
“Don’t waste your time,” Jamie said. “I don’t know how long we’ll be gone.”
“Hurry up,” the Speaker said, tired of waiting. “Come stand by the door.”
“Good luck,” Donny said.
“You too,” Jamie said.
74.
THE LOCALS were very careful with letting only Jamie and Lucy come out. They forced Donny and Fatty to move to the far corners of the cage, turn their backs and get to their knees. Only then did they open the lock and release the chains. It was a good thing they did that. Donny would have made a dash for the door if he had half a chance.
The guards shut the cage door and immediately applied the lock and chains. Donny hopped to his feet and approached the door, but it was too late. Jamie gave him a smile that said he was going to be all right. That seemed to calm him. A little.
The Speaker, along with two of his chums, led Jamie and Lucy away, through the hard dirt-packed streets that wound like a snake’s coils around the picturesque houses. Judging by the yawns on the peoples’ faces it was morning already.
The largest group of workers stood at a single long table operating on some kind of factory processing system. They filled small metal shells with black powder. At another table they carefully handcrafted tiny metal studs Jamie knew only too well. Bullets. They were producing ammunition.
Ever since he arrived, Jamie had cast an experienced survival specialist’s eye over this commune and wondered how they could possibly survive down here without access to clean running water or sunlight to grow crops. The answer was trade. In order to get the supplies they needed, they would have to offer something very valuable. Everyone needed to defend themselves. It was likely their only real option.
The woman at the end of the table put a hand to her mouth and coughed. It was a thick, deep, horrible thing. It created a domino effect as her entire line began to cough. It was the dust, Jamie realized. They could beat their carpets and blankets as much as they wanted but it would not dislodge the dirt in the air, from living underground the way they were.
Then he noticed something else odd.
Most of the workers were missing limbs. In fact, almost all of them were! How dangerous was making munitions? Very, he supposed. They must have accidentally set them off. He frowned. The loss of hands and arms he could understand, but what about the feet and legs? The only thing that made sense was if they lost a hand, forgot, and dropped the gunpowder and ended up losing a foot too. Two for one. Nasty.
They came to a large ornate building, the design of it was unlike anything Jamie had ever seen before. Ornate, with arches and stained glass windows. A giant spire almost reached the underground ceiling.
A pair of armed guards stood outside the church’s front doors. Armed. Dangerous. These guys had the use of all their limbs, Jamie noted.
“Wait here,” the Speaker said.
They waited patiently. Jamie used his time to appraise the guards. They wore thick armour and helmets. They were serious hombres and possessed the kind of thousand-yard stare only the professional had.
The doors opened. The guards stiffened, each growing an extra inch, then relaxed again after seeing it was a girl. Apparently, she didn’t warrant such respect.
“Get out of the way, you morons!” the girl said.
Frustration was etched on her face as she marched, her boots thudding on the paving stones.
“You fool!” she said, cupping her hands and bellowing down the corridor she’d come from. “You’re going to destroy this place with your greed! You wait and see!”
She turned and almost ran into Jamie and Lucy.
“What are these?” she said with a sneer, hands on her hips. “New traders, I bet? Good luck getting anything out of the Preacher. Like extracting blood from a stone. That’s what you’re expected to deal with.”
“We’re not traders,” Jamie said.
The girl took a step back to appraise them head to foot.
“You are a little young, I suppose,” she said.
A twisted cruel smile spread across her face.
“Then you must be the latest entertainment,” she said. “For several evenings, I would wager.”
“All right you,” the Speaker said sternly. “On with you. Go on.”
“Can’t you see I’m talking with my friends?” the girl said. “A word to the wise: it’s all a game. A sham. A farce. Use whatever word you want. It’s a twisted, sordid game. The only way to win is not to play. Do you get me?”
She was looking Jamie dead in the eye. No one who lied could do that, not while maintaining an even, calm tone. There was a fierce intelligence in those eyes, Jamie thought. She wore her anger like a badge on her breast, proudly proclaiming it to the world.
The Speaker shoved her.
“I said that’s enough,” he said.
The girl stumbled back but did no
t lose her feet. She glared back at him.
“They need their little games,” she said. “Where would they be without their little distractions? They’d have to fight like the rest of us. They’re a bunch of liars and conmen. That’s all they are. Liars and conmen. And cowards. Mustn’t forget that.”
The Speaker moved to shove her again. The girl held up her hands in mock surrender.
“All right, all right,” she said. “I think I’ve taken just about as many good manners as I can handle. You’ve got to love the faux-British etiquette they have here. The suggestion of manners is so much easier to fake than to actually have them.”
The Speaker stepped forward again, but the girl was fast and hopped back. She shut one eye, stuck her tongue in her bottom lip and made a strange noise in the back of her throat. Then she turned and marched away.
What a strange girl, Jamie thought.
“Enter,” the Speaker said, still a little flustered. “The Preacher will see you now.”
75.
“GOOD MORNING!” the Preacher said, spreading his arms wide in a warm welcoming gesture.
Jamie wished he didn’t do that. The flaps under his arms looked like Dumbo wings. He was without a doubt the fattest man Jamie had ever seen. He sported a perfectly manicured mustache on his top lip, curled with oil. His hair was likewise oiled, so tight and thin you could see his scalp.
“Please, take a seat, take a seat,” the Preacher said. “As you have no doubt already guessed, I am the Preacher. It’s just a name, don’t worry. I’m not about to launch a tirade on you about going to hell, although I certainly do have the chops for it.”
He took a deep breath and half-shouted, half-sang: “And if you do not do as the Good Book says, ye shall burn in the fiery depths of Hell! Heathens!”
He chuckled to himself before smiling expectantly at Jamie and Lucy.
“That was. . . very loud,” Jamie said.
“Of course it was!” the Preacher said. “Only the very best orators become preachers. And I was only working at half volume. Would you care to hear a full blast?”
He took another deep breath.
“No!” Lucy said, beating Jamie to the punch. “That’s okay.”
“Perhaps later then,” the Preacher said, a little disappointed.
Jamie’s ears still hurt.
“So,” the Preacher said, leaning back on the three-piece sofa. He managed to take up the entire space himself. “What can I do for you?”
Jamie blinked. He wasn’t sure he’d heard him right.
“Sorry?” he said. “What can you do for us?”
“Yes,” the Preacher said. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To get something. That’s why anyone is ever here.”
“Yes, I suppose so. . .” Jamie said. “We want you to let us go.”
The Preacher chuckled behind his flabby hand.
“My boy, we’re not holding you prisoner,” he said. “You’re holding yourselves.”
“You locked us in a cage,” Jamie said.
“Wrong again, my dear boy,” the Preacher said. “That is only a physical representation of your situation. The chains that bind you have nothing to do with us.”
Jamie exchanged a look with Lucy. Do you understand any of this? Lucy shook her head. He turned to the Speaker who stood to attention in the corner of the room.
“Let me explain a few things first,” the Preacher said. “Then perhaps you’ll understand where I’m coming from. You see, we are the Chosen. We walk in the Lord’s light. This is how we must live if we hope to rid ourselves of the world’s great decay. Not only the physical decay of man, that’s the least of it, but our spiritual decay. Man was once rotten to his very core. Now, we are clean, free of sin.
“The world became putrid, decadent, a sorry place. That’s why it ended up the way it has. People always wanted more and more, and the Lord took his things back. Even the human race’s most prized gift: our self-awareness. The creatures that roam the world above are merely a physical manifestation of their inner demons, of the monster we all carried inside us back then.
“The debts we were unable to pay back, the bigger and better objects we bought to make ourselves feel better when they were only really making things worse. Ever since we came down here, things have gotten better. None of our number have turned into those monsters. They’re free of evil, of greed. You must repent and give yourselves to the holy spirit, to the one true god. Our Lord and saviour. Only He can wash your soul clean. Only He can deliver you from evil. All you need do is let him enter your soul and all is forgiven.”
He finished by clasping his clammy hands together, eyes closed, as if he had bestowed some great gift upon them. Jamie shared a look with Lucy. What was all that supposed to mean? He’d been to church every Sunday his whole life and he’d never had anyone tell him any of this stuff.
“I’m not greedy,” Jamie said. “I don’t want anything, except to leave.”
“Denial can be a powerful thing,” the Preacher said, smile still affixed to his face.
“I’m not in denial,” Jamie said. “If you saw our commune you would see we don’t have a lot. Only what we need.”
The Preacher’s eyebrows reached the top of his head. Not in surprise, but in superiority, as if he knew something of great import that Jamie did not.
“If you let us go we won’t ever come back here,” Jamie said. “I promise.”
“We cannot set you free because we are not imprisoning you,” the Preacher said. “And we do not want you to leave. After you realize your error, you’ll never want to go.”
He picked amongst the food on the table. Thick chunks of meat on big bones.
Jamie wet his lips and considered telling the Preacher about everything they knew, everything Dr. Beck had told them about the Bugs planting the seed of the virus on meteorites and letting them fall to the Earth.
Then it occurred to him. There was little difference between the Preacher’s theory and Dr. Beck’s. It was possible to believe either concept. He didn’t even need to present evidence. Perhaps people only believed what they decided made sense to them, with or without evidence. He filed it away to consider later.
He took a deep breath. He couldn’t believe he was even entertaining this.
“What do we have to do to convince you we’re without greed?” Jamie said.
“It’s not me you have to convince,” the Preacher said, before pointing up with a greasy finger.
He was pointing at the roof. No, he meant Heaven. If he was so sure God lived in the clouds, why did he spend his time underground where the devil was supposed to live? It made no sense.
“How do we convince Him?” Jamie said.
“You must let him speak to you,” the Preacher said. “Let him enter your heart and give you guidance. Let him in and know your innermost secrets. Only then can you truly be free.”
Jamie didn’t know what that meant. He was used to getting orders like, “Go pump the well to get water,” or “Go butcher the chicken. We need meat for tonight.” Clear goals with an obvious outcome and purpose. What on Earth was all this?
They need their little games. They’re a bunch of liars and conmen.
The Preacher coughed, heavy and thick, then hawked up the phlegm and spat into a bucket he kept at his feet.
“The Good Lord has chosen to punish me for what sins I may have committed,” the Preacher said. “The Lord is never done with any of us. Not until the end.”
He hawked up another wad. Jamie dry heaved. The Preacher didn’t spit this time and instead chewed on it like a cow with cud.
“Each member of our commune has been handpicked by the Good Lord,” the Preacher said. “Join us, and you will enjoy the everlasting fruits in the afterlife.”
Jamie much preferred promises kept today than ones far in the distance. The future was too unsettled for his liking. It never did what you expected. Jamie got the feeling the not-too-distant future was going to be the same.
; 76.
“WELL?” DONNY said. “How’d it go?”
Jamie, still haunted and more than a little confused by the words he’d heard, looked Donny in the eye. His elder brother could see something was wrong but there was no way in a million years he would ever guess what was said during the meeting.
“We need to get out of here,” Jamie said. “Or we’re doomed.”
Donny lowered his voice and glanced through the bars before speaking.
“I managed to pry the corner up,” Donny said.
“Actually, I pried it up,” Fatty said.
“We pried it up,” Donny said, giving Fatty a look. “Is that all right, Fatty? Are you okay with sharing a little of the limelight?”
Fatty shrugged.
“So long as no one forgets who the star was,” he said.
Donny raised his hand. Fatty, forgetting himself, shied away.
“There was something interesting a girl we met said,” Lucy said. “I don’t think she’s from here. She doesn’t dress like them.”
“What did she say?” Donny said.
“‘It’s all a game,’” Lucy said.
Donny waited for more.
“That’s it?” he said. “What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure,” Lucy said. “Everything, I think. Everything here.”
“And she said we shouldn’t play their game,” Jamie said.
“What game was she talking about?” Fatty said. “Like, Snakes and Ladders? That kind of game?”
“Shut up, you idiot,” Donny said.
Fatty gave Donny a petulant look, pressing his lips together.
“Look,” Donny said. “Maybe the things the girl—whoever she is—said were important or maybe they’re not. How about we just get the hell out of here? That’s not playing their game, is it?”
“I’m not sure,” Jamie said. “It’s hard to know what the game even is.”
“Then let’s not waste time wondering about it,” Donny said. “We’ve got a perfectly good way out of here. I suggest we use it.”
After the Fall- The Complete series Box Set Page 36
