Death's Dominion

by Simon Clark

  ‘A lucky find.’

  ‘I’ll say.’ Paul held up the flake of glittering stone to examine it. ‘A flint arrowhead. It’s the first time I’ve ever held one. Look at the workmanship. They knew what they were doing three thousand years ago didn’t they?’ He smiled. ‘Knapped to perfection.’

  ‘I don’t know how sharp it will be.’

  ‘If it was used to tip an arrow it should be … uh … trust me, it’s sharp. Very sharp.’ Paul had pressed the ball of his thumb onto the arrowhead’s point. He showed her a nick in his skin that oozed blood. ‘What would our bowman from pre-history say if he knew that their flint arrowhead would be employed to not only operate on a man – but a man brought back from the dead?’ He chuckled. ‘Please forgive my melodramatic moment, Elsa, but extracting bullets from one of Frankenstein’s progeny on a hilltop sort of excuses me, doesn’t it?’

  Elsa smiled. ‘You’re forgiven.’

  ‘Now if you could lift up his sweatshirt to expose the chest? Then I’ll begin …’

  Dominion didn’t so much as murmur as Paul held the sliver of ultrasharp flint between his thumb and forefinger. Expertly he sliced four radiating lines in the skin. That done he forced his fingers against the now star-shaped wound. A glittering slug of metal slid outwards until it bulged proud of Dominion’s flesh. Paul pinched the firearm round between finger and thumb and pulled it clear. That done, he tossed it into the grass.

  ‘Number one.’ Paul cut more radiating lines away from the second gunshot wound. A trickle of blood ran down Dominion’s gold-brown chest.

  For the first time since this bizarre operation began Dominion grunted. Elsa saw it wasn’t the pain. The towering man had looked down into the valley and seen something.

  Dominion spoke a single word. ‘Man.’

  Elsa followed his gaze. ‘Paul, there’s a couple of men on horseback.

  They’re following the same path we used last night.’

  Paul checked for himself. ‘A scouting party. Do you see rifles?’

  Elsa nodded.

  ‘Me, too.’ As he worked skilfully with the stone blade he called across to the group of men and woman who still earnestly debated their fate, ‘There’s a scouting party headed this way on horseback. I estimate it will take me around ninety seconds to finish up here with Dominion. Once I’ve done I intend to flee. Because I’ve been given a second chance at life on this planet, I don’t intend to throw it away. Whether you surrender yourselves to those guys or come with me is up to you.’ The doctor glanced back before returning to work on the bloody holes in Dominion’s chest. ‘It’s time you people made up your minds.’

  8

  His Death

  Dominion walked down the other side of the hill. Here there was low yellow scrub. Very little in the way of trees. Mostly stunted oaks with gnarled limbs. At times he knew he walked with his kind. At other times he was no longer aware of their presence. The men and women had no more, nor no less a significance than the grass he strode through.

  At one point a woman with copper-coloured hair touched his arm. ‘Does it hurt?’ When he didn’t answer she said, ‘Your chest, Dominion, does it hurt?’

  ‘Don’t waste your time.’ These words came from a long, thin man with deep-set eyes. ‘He’s not made all the neurological connections yet. If he ever will.’

  ‘He will,’ the red-haired woman countered. ‘And probably faster than you and I if he woke up in the regenerator.’

  ‘Have you seen? He’s still got human blood on his hand. The transition was an aberration. He should have been destroyed.’

  ‘You’re beginning to sound like the sapheads. Why should we be destroying our own when humanity is doing their level best to hound us to extinction?’

  ‘We’ve only ourselves to blame. We were too superior for our own good.’

  ‘In six months’ time that’s going to be academic because there won’t be a single God Scarer left on the planet.’

  Dominion paused. ‘God Scarer?’ He grunted as understanding began to flow. ‘I scare God?’

  ‘Sure you do, buddy. We all do.’

  The red-haired woman urged him on, ‘Keep walking, Dominion. We’ve got to find somewhere safe.’

  Dominion looked back the way they’d come. The pathway made by wild animals snaked back up the hill toward the Nine Sisters stone circle. ‘Men on horses. They hurt us?’

  A thickset man chipped in, ‘Don’t hold your breath for gifts of chocolates.’ He sounded grim. ‘Didn’t you know it’s hunting season for the likes of us now? No, I don’t suppose you did. You still haven’t fully clicked into the socket.’

  The redhead scowled. ‘Leave him alone, West.’

  But the man called West continued in something close to a bitter rant. ‘They say “ignorance is bliss, but pre-individuation is Nirvana.” Isn’t that so, Dominion, old buddy?’

  The man slapped Dominion on the back. As he drew his palm away Dominion shot his hand back to grip his wrist.

  ‘OK, you big cheese. I was just being playful. Savvy?’ West’s eyes narrowed. ‘You can let go now. Hey! You don’t know your own strength.’

  ‘Serves you right.’ The woman spoke with satisfaction.

  ‘Dawn, make him let go of me. He’s ripping my arm out.’

  Dominion saw the pain brighten the man’s eyes. ‘I can hurt you?’

  ‘Yes, yes! You can hurt me! Satisfied?’

  Dominion released the man’s arm. West rubbed his wrist while shooting pained glances at him. ‘You want to watch that temper of yours. We God Scarers have a reputation for a mild temperament …’ West noticed the rest of the group had stopped moving.

  As Paul hurried along the path to catch them up the redhead asked, ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Lerner’s gone back to the stone circle.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He’s convinced he can negotiate our surrender with the horsemen.’

  Dominion sensed an intense emotional shock run through them.

  West shook his head. ‘There’s no way we can wait for him?’

  ‘No. The horsemen are likely to catch us if we do. You’ve got to keep moving.’

  ‘Well, what are we waiting for?’

  ‘You keep moving. Beech, will you take care of Dominion?’

  ‘Sure, but you can’t seriously expect to go back for Lerner?’

  ‘If there’s time I might be able to convince him to come back with us before the men reach him.’

  There wasn’t time. Elsa had joined Paul for the run back to the standing stones. Just a hundred paces away from them they crept into the bushes as the two horsemen reached the hilltop. Lerner held his arms apart to show he didn’t mean harm. Even with their sharp ears Elsa couldn’t hear what passed between Lerner and the two men. All she was certain of was that they spoke a few words to each other. Lerner had a broad open face that was as benevolent as that of a saint depicted in the old stained-glass windows found in churches. His wispy hair blew in the light breeze.

  Both men carried rifles. One drew back the bolt and fired into Lerner’s chest from a range of a dozen paces. He took a step backward. One knee buckled but then he recovered his balance. Lerner still spoke to the men in what appeared to be a calm way to persuade them to hear him out. The other horseman fired into Lerner’s mouth. The gentle giant of a man turned slightly. Elsa saw blood streaming from his mouth down the white shirt. Instinctively she rose to her feet to help the wounded man.

  Paul grabbed her. ‘No,’ he hissed. ‘Don’t let them know you’re here.’

  ‘But you’ve seen what they’ve done to him?’

  ‘What can we do to help? You know we can’t fight them. If we try and take Lerner away they’ll turn the guns on us.’

  The men fired in quick succession now. Chest, stomach, thighs, arms, shoulders, face. The high velocity rounds smashed into Lerner’s body. The impact made him flinch. One round found its way through the man’s torso to erupt from the other side and splash into the dr
y earth with a puff of dust. Slowly, Lerner sank to one knee. He supported his weight on one hand while he held the other arm above his head. A signal that he meant no harm, and wanted to talk.

  Paul closed his eyes as he whispered, ‘We’re hard to kill; we’re not indestructible.’

  Elsa shook with disgust and anger at the scene of bloody murder in front of her. The stones of the Nine Sisters formed a mute audience for the spectacle. How many times had they witnessed violent death in their 3,000 years?

  Now, if they had eyes to see, they would witness the men dismount from the horses, then advance on Lerner to beat him with the butts of their rifles. When that failed to finish him, even though his head was bleeding from a dozen cuts, one of them drew a hunter’s knife from his boot and laboured to cut Lerner’s throat. Still, the giant of a man held up one arm. It was his only act of defiance. He could have brushed the men away like they were ants but she knew he wouldn’t break the monster’s law. DO NO HARM TO HUMANITY. He didn’t even attempt to run away. Nor did he push away the knife that sawed at his throat. More blood gushed down the front of his shirt. Eventually, however, the horseman gave up. His arm must have been aching and he was clearly breathless. The cartilage protecting Lerner’s trachea was far too tough for a mere knife. By this time the other hunter had reloaded his rifle. At point blank range he fired into the back of Lerner’s head. One of the rounds even ricocheted away as a red spark.

  ‘Dear God.’ Paul bowed his head in a mixture of disbelief and pure grief.

  Elsa gulped. ‘Maybe they’ll give up and leave him?’

  Paul shook his head.

  Meanwhile, Lerner forced himself to stay sitting upright. His head had sagged forward until the chin touched his chest. Even so, he still held one arm up. Whether it was a plea for them to stop or a gesture of defiance she couldn’t tell.

  The next half-hour unfolded in a dreamlike way. The men tethered the horses near the stones, then they diligently collected dry branches. They even came within twenty paces of Elsa and Paul’s hiding place, but the men were too focused on their task to search for anymore of Lerner’s kind. By turns, Elsa wanted nothing more than to creep away from the despicable scene unfolding in front of her. Yet there was a chance the men would move on after all and leave their victim wounded but alive. And then, in a dark burst of passion that shamed her, she longed to hear Dominion’s feet come pounding along the pathway. Guilty, but ecstatic, she saw in her mind’s eye how the giant figure would smite Lerner’s attackers. The sheer lust to witness these two men suffer appalled her. Vengeance is impossible. We must accept whatever humanity choose to exact. Whatever she longed for amounted to nothing. When the two men had piled dry branches around the kneeling figure of Lerner with his massive arm still raised they lit the fire. She and Paul watched. What else could they do? Perhaps they owed it to him to witness the dignity of his death so they could tell the others.

  The fire was a pyramid of chrome lights. Sticks popped in the fire. Smoke drew a filthy black smear across the blue sky. It was only as the flames themselves began to die down that Lerner’s arm sagged, then slowly sank down into the heart of the fire.

  9

  Attack of the Fearless Corpse Killers

  ‘If we don’t keep moving the same will happen to us as happened to Lerner.’

  ‘What’s the point?’

  ‘Do you all want to be burned alive?’

  ‘Whatever we do, wherever we go, they’ll catch us in the end.’

  It had taken two hours to catch up with the group after she and Dr Paul Marais had watched the horsemen build a fire around Lerner. The image of the man’s arm raised above the flames had seared itself into her memory. Once the rest of the group heard the circumstances of Lerner’s brutal slaying they’d stopped walking. Their pessimistic spirit held them captive as much as any prison.

  With the loss of Lerner they were down to nine. Dominion stood beneath an oak tree. He gazed up into the branches. Perhaps he saw things the others did not. Just as Elsa had heard the mysterious song of the dead, he stood there, immobile. He shared the stillness and the strength of the oak tree that soared into the sky a hundred feet above him. She found her eyes travelling over the musculature of his body. The transition process from death to life often resulted in flaccid muscle. The ‘newborns’ tended to be weak for the first month of their new lives but Dominion’s balance was as perfect as the aura of physical strength. Elsa watched his dark eyes searching the branches. A shaft of light pierced the leaves to glint on the blond hair that bristled from his dark scalp. He, alone, appeared unperturbed by their circumstances. Now, here, a bunch of frightened God Scarers, fleeing from their would-be executioners, were preparing to surrender themselves to their fates.

  A defeated expression haunted West’s face. ‘We could work our way to the coast.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘If we turn ourselves into the authorities in one of the bigger cities at least they’ll deal with us in a civilized way.’

  Paul was scornful. ‘Want to bet?’

  Another added, ‘The saps blame us for the collapse of their economy.’

  ‘What do you suggest? Emigrate to fucking Mars?’

  ‘We could find a boat.’

  ‘And then what? If you can sail the thing, where do we go?’

  This seemed to be the eternal topic of conversation. Elsa listened to the same replay of arguments. The group had split down the middle into two factions. Those that wanted to flee into the hills, or some hoped-for place of safety across the sea. The others talked about surrendering to the police. But their idea of what happened to them then was nebulous beyond belief. Somehow they clung to the faith that humanity wouldn’t harm them. Paul remained steadfast. He insisted they shouldn’t throw themselves at the mercy of human beings. Elsa, for one, relished her second chance at life.

  Paul insisted, ‘We can keep clear of the patrols, if we just keep walking.’

  Saiban, this was the thin man with mournful eyes, shrugged, helpless. ‘Where do we find clothes to protect us from inclement weather?’

  ‘We can find clothes,’ Paul countered.

  ‘And food?’

  ‘There’s got to be something we can eat.’

  The redhead, Beech, joined the argument. ‘I’m all for getting off this stretch of dirt but no saps are going to sell us food.’

  ‘Beech, we shouldn’t use the derogatory term sap.’ Saiban was troubled. ‘They are Homo sapiens. Human beings. They—’

  ‘It’s not blasphemy to call them saps. You might think humans are superior to us, but let me tell you, Saiban, they don’t sit on clouds dealing out thunderbolts to any of us God Scarers who bad-mouth them.’

  Saiban’s gesture spoke louder than words: What’s the point in talking?

  Paul checked his watch. ‘It’s noon. We can still make another twenty miles before sunset.’

  ‘Yes,’ Beech said. ‘But which direction? Do any of us really know this area?’

  One of the nurses added, ‘And what if the weather breaks? We need shelter.’

  Once more Elsa found herself surveying this group of individuals. They were all tall. Normally they could be described as handsome; an artist would call the women junoesque; on the whole they stood taller than a human male. Now they were tired; their faces haggard, while the skin around the eyes was puffy. Only Dominion appeared impervious, even with the bullet wounds in his chest. The movement of the branches held his attention. As the arguments rumbled along their course she heard the breeze sighing down the gully. Water tumbled over the rocks in the stream. Birds circled high overhead. At that moment it seemed to Elsa this would be her life from now on. She’d spend her days with this bunch of men and women from the transit station as they trudged the land in a perpetual search for somewhere to live. Not that any place would be safe. Not in this country anyway.

  Just listen to them, she told herself. They’re ready to debate until hell turns glacial.

  Saiban had returned to his
old stance of negotiation with humankind. ‘Surely, we’ll be able to talk to them.’

  ‘Lerner tried. They won’t listen.’ Paul appeared worn down by the arguments now. How long until he simply struck off on his own across country?

  ‘That’s because we haven’t spoken to anyone in authority.’

  ‘You really think they’re going to let us live?’

  ‘If we can find a phone. We don’t have to—’

  ‘They’ll trace the call.’

  Elsa chipped in, ‘There are abandoned boats on the coast. Ever since the shipping companies collapsed they’re—’

  ‘So we hop on board and hoist the anchor?’

  Elsa found her anger rising as she met Saiban’s perpetually mournful gaze. ‘We can try.’

  Paul broke in, ‘Dear God in Heaven, we’ve got to try.’

  ‘It’s that or we’ll wind up dead.’

  Saiban came as close as he could to a smile. ‘Yes, dead again. You’d think we’d be used to it by now.’

  This fatalism stirred up Beech. Her red hair flashed in the sun as she verbally lashed out. ‘How are we going to survive with that kind of pessimism, Saiban? Why don’t you go throw yourself on the mercy of—’

  That’s as far as she got haranguing Saiban. Dominion lashed out, seized her by the long red tresses and dragged her under the trees.

  Beech cried out in shock, ‘What are you doing? Leave me alone.’

  West gulped. ‘My God, he’s going to kill her.’

  Paul called out to the others, ‘Stop him … all pile on him. He’ll be too strong for us to tackle him one on one.’ They’d barely taken a dozen steps when a cracking-thud split the afternoon air. Elsa spun round. The open space between the trees where Beech had stood remonstrating with Saiban suddenly blossomed with fire. Particles that sounded like hail rattled through the branches.

  ‘They’ve found us,’ Saiban cried.

  ‘Grenades,’ Elsa shouted. ‘Get right under the trees. Where they’re thickest.’