Ever since their arrival in the deserted Anakim city well over two hundred days earlier, the thirty thousand people he’d brought with him from Steadfast, predominantly civilians but including five thousand Darklight contractors, had been living out their existence in the revelation that was Sanctuary. Unfortunately setting up home in this frankly unbelievable and barren ancient underground structure had not been their goal.
Professor Steiner, Goodwin’s direct superior within the GMRC, had directed him to break into USSB Sanctuary; a facility Goodwin had believed to be just another underground base, built as a failsafe against the asteroid AG5 that had finally impacted off the South African coastline in 2040. The reality was the USSB, a United States Subterranean Base, was contained within a much larger structure of the same name.
Sanctuary’s immensity, Goodwin’s unauthorised access and an earthquake, had all conspired against the Steadfast evacuees, who’d quickly become lost and trapped within a ghostly abandoned city of – at the time – unknown origins. Only the arrival of a pre-recorded video message from Professor Steiner had enlightened Goodwin to the truth, not just about Sanctuary and those that built it, but about the continued threat from space and the six remaining asteroids destined for Earth.
Thoughts of the disclosure of the catastrophe that awaited those on the surface always brought a deep melancholy upon him, and now was no different. Goodwin still had relatives on the surface, as did many others that shared his current predicament. If only he could escape this place and warn them, bring them back underground to safety. A sardonic chuckle escaped his lips making his chest shake. Safety, pah! It was all he could do to stay alive, the thought of rescuing anyone at this point seemed deliciously ludicrous to his mind. And even if I could warn those I held dear, would I, or more importantly should I? Professor Steiner had entrusted the secret to him in the belief he would hold it close, not for his sake but for the sake of humanity itself. Could I really be that cold and leave those on the surface to die without doing something to save them? The professor had; the loathsome thought declared itself unbidden and unwelcome, driving its way to the forefront of his deliberations. Goodwin knew the professor’s actions were disconnected from normal reality, but they were still cold and distant, the condemnation of billions of lives apparently accepted as an inevitability. What else could he have done? Goodwin wondered. The answer came quickly: nothing. There was nothing that he could have done.
Goodwin had decided early on to keep the momentous secret about the future between himself and one other person; for now, anyway. If he disclosed the truth to everyone, it would only serve to nullify his efforts to keep those with him calm and functioning. Knowledge such as he now possessed would send many over the brink. Despair was the one thing the Steadfast evacuees could do without right now. The one person he knew he could burden with the information was the Darklight leader, Commander Hilt. The man was the proverbial rock and had taken the news surprisingly well, accepting what Goodwin told him without question. His impassive features had altered to show a deep consternation, of course, anyone hearing that the planet, as we know it, was nearly at an end would give some kind of reaction; any sane person at least.
A noise nearby caused Goodwin to lapse back into reality and he rolled his head to one side to listen as low voices murmured on the edge of hearing; probably a couple of soldiers preparing breakfast, Goodwin surmised, as the sound of footfalls faded away. His thoughts turned to the professor again, his friend and mentor. He hoped he was okay. Malcolm Joiner was holding him under arrest when Goodwin left Steadfast and it had seemed the Director of Intelligence would go to any lengths to stop its evacuation. This could mean that Steiner and the rest of Steadfast’s staff were still trapped in the base. That, combined with the fact that, according to the professor’s message, Steadfast could be destroyed when the asteroid hit, didn’t bode well for the professor or the hundreds of thousands left behind in the base. Goodwin heaved a sigh. There was very little he could do about it now if that was the case; he must live in hope that the professor had got them out somehow, and he believed if anyone could it was him. He might even be on his way to Sanctuary at that very moment, or already preparing to send out search parties for Goodwin; a pleasant thought indeed, but an unlikely one.
The sensation of the bedcovers shifting brought his mind back to his surroundings once more. More movement and the sheets were pulled away, leaving half his body exposed to the cold outside air. Smiling, he propped himself up on one elbow and leaned over to look at the small woman who shared his bed. Dark brown, shoulder-length hair lay fanned out over her well-tanned skin, the dyed blonde highlights almost completely grown out; a consequence of their stay in Sanctuary where luxuries were few and far between. Kara Vandervoort murmured in her sleep as Goodwin bent down and kissed her on her soft, freckled, upturned cheek. She was such a beauty; he was a lucky man to have such a brave, intelligent woman in his corner. He’d always seen himself as rather plain and ordinary, an unattractive proposition to such as her. At first he’d been confused by her advances, finding it hard to believe she would be interested in him. When she’d failed to lose interest he eventually built up the courage to do something about it; he was glad he had.
To the casual observer Kara appeared only to be in her early twenties and since he was a forty-four year old man the match would have seemed ill suited, to some anyway. In actuality Dr Vandervoort had thirty-three years under her belt and had been Steadfast’s Ecosystem director, part of Goodwin’s key management team at the base.
He’d told Kara many times that he couldn’t have held everything together if she hadn’t been around to lend her support and buoy him up when the stress and strain of their current situation sought to overwhelm him. Kara, as ever, had told him he’d have performed just as well without her; if only she knew how wrong she was.
Not wanting to disturb her sleep, Goodwin decided to rise and slid from the bed, the cold floor sending a shiver through his body as he did so. Taking his clothes from the crumpled heap on the floor where they lay, he pulled on his suit trousers, the belt much looser on his waist than it had been when he’d first arrived at Sanctuary.
‘I’ll need to make another notch,’ he mumbled to himself, shrugging into his creased white shirt. Pulling on some dirty looking socks and a pair of repaired Darklight issue boots, Goodwin picked up his red body warmer, opened the tent flap and ducked outside. A gust of cold air ruffled his thick, black hair. So strange, he thought, I’m miles underground and yet there is definitely wind down here. He’d surmised it was probably a result of the size of the chamber they were currently in. At around three miles high the cavernous space was – well – words failed to do it justice, but as Kara said in her South African drawl, it was bloody massive. The scale of the towers within the city also boggled the mind, not that they were visible in the pitch blackness that surrounded them; they could only be seen using some high-tech Darklight visual spectrum enhancement goggles. They were there, though, just a few hundred yards away. Goodwin looked up into the black, visualising the hundreds of gigantic edifices that populated the Anakim city; the name the professor had used for the race that had built them. Knowing who’d created these monstrous buildings didn’t detract from their eerie nature, in fact it enhanced it; Goodwin could almost feel their presence permeating through the air towards him. Another shiver ran down his spine, this one not induced by the low temperature.
He looked at his watch. The time was five a.m. and the rest of the camp remained quiet, or at least the section he was in did. Thirty thousand people covered a substantial amount of land. It had been decided early on that setting up residence in the city would have been too unnerving, and many of the civilians and even some of the Darklight soldiers had voiced their unease about such a plan. Goodwin had been quick to agree with them.
The supplies brought along by the Darklight forces had quickly proved inadequate, but somehow enough makeshift tents had been erected, interspersed by small, water pow
ered generators that ensured the portable floodlights stayed on twenty-four seven; without them they’d have been totally blind. That the gennies worked with water wasn’t luck, the state-of-the-art equipment brought along by the Darklight private security firm was capable of producing electricity using a variety of fuel sources, even bio matter. What was fortuitous was the presence of a huge fresh water aquifer located two miles away from the city and their camp. They’d needed something to go in their favour, considering what had gone before, and a steady supply of drinking water and fuel for the lights hadn’t been the final surprise relayed by one of Commander Hilt’s reconnaissance teams.
Whether by design or otherwise, the body of water teemed with a mackerel-like fish. Alongside this animal, many other species had been extracted by improvised angling gear. Giant catfish, supposedly nearing world record size, had been landed, alongside other creatures that looked distinctly prehistoric, many of which may have been unknown to science. The forms of these aquatic wonders hauled from the depths resembled marine life usually found in the world’s deepest oceans. Prehistoric, pale, white skin and transparent bodies with large black eyes and razor sharp teeth did little to whet Goodwin’s appetite, but eat them he did, as did everyone else; it was either that or starve. An enforced pescatarian diet did not suit most, but proved impossible for others. Those who found the pungent fish too difficult to keep down had to make do with a variety of edible plants found around the fringes of the lake. To Goodwin the colourless vegetation appealed far less than the meat on offer and the taste had confirmed his observations.
The reason how so much life thrived underground was unclear, although the lake itself turned out to be in line with everything else around it; its enormity more akin to a Scottish loch or inland sea. From what they could tell, the expanse of water stretched for over three miles in breadth and thrice that in length. When it came to the depth, a crude plumb line had been unable to find the bottom, which shelved off sharply; the line used had run out after one and a half miles had disappeared beneath the inky black surface.
Walking through the camp, Goodwin headed for what served as the command post, a lean-to against a large outcrop of rock a few minutes away from his and Kara’s tent. Hilt’s recon teams had been due back late the previous night and Goodwin was eager for news of their scouting mission, which was most likely the reason he’d awoken so early. Perhaps today would yield some better results than the previous expeditions undertaken.
Hysterical laughter drifted on the soft breeze, making Goodwin pause in his passage, the light from a distant lantern barely highlighting the path ahead. A shriek and a scream made him alter his direction; jogging along, he made haste towards the source of the commotion that still echoed into the darkness. A young man came into view ahead, his height towering above a woman he now grappled with, both toppling to the floor.
Rushing forwards in the half-light, Goodwin grabbed onto the man’s heavy knit sweater, doing his best to haul him off his victim. Staggering back, it was all Goodwin could do to hold onto the person as he twisted and wriggled in his grasp.
‘Wait! It’s okay, he’s just playing,’ the woman said to Goodwin, picking herself up from the floor.
Goodwin squinted at the shadowy figure. ‘Rebecca, is that you?’
‘Richard, yes and Joseph too,’
‘Joseph?’ Goodwin let go of the man who’d become limp and still at the sound of his voice.
Joseph turned around and beamed at him, his wide, innocent smile infectious, making Goodwin laugh in relief.
‘Thank God.’ He gave Joseph a pat on the arm. ‘I thought someone was being attacked.’
A strong beam of light appeared ten yards away, making Goodwin and Rebecca cover their eyes with a forearm while Joseph pulled his jumper up over his head.
‘What’s going on here?’ an authoritative voice demanded.
‘It’s fine, just a misunderstanding,’ Goodwin said to the Darklight soldier who’d also been drawn to the kerfuffle.
The soldier angled the torch in his direction. ‘Director Goodwin, forgive me, I didn’t recognise you back there.’
‘Yes, thank you. Do you mind not pointing that thing in my face?’ Goodwin turned his head as he tried to maintain some of his night vision.
‘Of course, sorry, sir. Perhaps you could try and keep the noise down, miss,’ the Darklight man said to Rebecca once he’d dimmed the light down to an acceptable level. ‘Sound travels quite far out here and we’ve had some complaints recently about your group.’
‘I don’t think that will be possible,’ Goodwin said, coming to Rebecca’s aid as she floundered for a response. ‘And you should tell anyone who has a problem to come and see me.’ Goodwin knew Rebecca had her hands full with caring for her wards; she didn’t need anyone else foisting their stress onto her.
‘Very good, sir.’ The soldier gave him a crisp salute before going back about his business.
Joseph pulled Goodwin forwards with typical childlike exuberance. ‘Winnie, play?’
‘Richard can’t play, Joseph,’ Rebecca said, ‘he’s a busy man.’
A look of intense concentration stole over Joseph’s face. ‘Guess, Winnie.’ Puckering up his mouth, he made a squawking noise, uncannily like a parrot.
‘Parrot!’ Goodwin said, having played the game of imitation many times before.
Joseph grinned and clapped his hands. Screwing his face up again, he let out a realistic roar.
‘Lion!’ Goodwin said.
Joseph beamed again and then made a noise like a chimpanzee.
‘Monkey!’
Joseph giggled joyously and gave Goodwin a big hug. Goodwin couldn’t help but smile at the man, as ever a bright ray of sunshine in a sunless world. The name Joseph had bestowed on him, Winnie, was sweet and endearing and made Goodwin feel quite protective of the young lad. According to Rebecca he’d been mentally handicapped from an early age, when he’d been accidentally smothered by his foster parent. The ensuing brain damage caused by the lack of oxygen had severely limited his ability to learn and understand the world around him in anything other than the capacity of a toddler. Joseph had been a full time resident at Rebecca’s place of work, a care home in Albuquerque, before the dust cloud kicked up by the asteroid had encircled the world, throwing it into chaos. A series of unconnected events had led to Rebecca and those she cared for becoming embroiled in Goodwin’s flight from Steadfast, all of them winding up in Sanctuary, lost and disorientated.
Goodwin still felt guilty for having led Rebecca and her vulnerable patients into the mess they were now all subjected to. Rebecca, as sweet and kind as ever, had never once placed any blame on Goodwin, accepting her lot with good grace and battling on as only she knew how. If Hilt was a rock then Rebecca was a mountain, unshakeable in her duty to protect those she cared for, regardless of her own well-being and the obstacles thrown in her path.
Goodwin helped Rebecca lead Joseph back to one of the biggest enclosures in the camp, its ample size enough to house Rebecca, Joseph, another two carers called Julie and Arianna, and ten other patients of varying ages and degrees of mental disability.
‘I’m so sorry for causing a problem,’ Rebecca said as they entered the large tent. ‘Joseph can run wild sometimes. I used to have trouble with him in the daylight in a large park, but here—’
‘I understand.’ Goodwin watched Joseph bounce away to join his friends. His heart went out to this young woman who struggled to do the best she could with limited resources in an alien world. He reached out to lay an understanding hand on her shoulder but as his fingers touched her she shied away, a haunted look flickering across her face.
Folding her arms tightly across her chest, Rebecca gave Goodwin a forced smile and moved away to attend to the rest of her flock.
‘She still doesn’t like people touching her,’ a small voice said from next to him, ‘apart from Joseph, me and the other patients.’
Goodwin looked down to see Rebecca’s friend and co-wo
rker, Julie, had come to stand by his side.
‘She went through a lot of trauma,’ Goodwin said, inwardly cursing the sick filth who had seen fit to rape Rebecca during the civil unrest on the surface.
‘I hoped she would have got better by now, but I fear this place, this darkness, hasn’t helped her to let it go.’ Julie’s sad voice echoed Goodwin’s own thoughts and compounded his need for action to rid them of this dank existence.
‘She’ll improve over time,’ Goodwin told her, trying to lift her mood, ‘she has all of you to look after her and I’ll try and get us all out of here as soon as I can. I’m just on my way to see the commander; I’m hoping he’ll have some good news for us all.’
‘Really?’ Julie’s eyes brightened.
Goodwin berated himself for his hasty words; false hope was a dangerous thing to bandy about. ‘We’ll have to wait and see.’ He watched her expression crumble, making him feel like he’d just kicked a small kitten.
At that point Joseph came back up to Goodwin, pulling a reluctant thirty year old woman called Susan with him.
‘Present!’ Joseph pushed the shy woman towards him. Susan had taken a shine to Goodwin ever since he’d first visited them at their new home a week after the camp had been set up. Holding out a podgy fist, Susan dangled a heavy bracelet for him to take, the fear of rejection on her face barely outweighed by the hope of acceptance.
He smiled. ‘For me?’
Susan nodded, chewing her lower lip and scuffing at the ground with one shoe.
‘She’s been making it all week,’ Rebecca said, coming up as Julie departed without a backward glance.
‘It’s very nice, thank you, Susan,’ Goodwin enthused, making a point of examining the crude object with interest before sliding it onto his left wrist, the small shells and stones adorning it softly jangling.
Susan put her head to his arm, cupping her hands around the bracelet. Goodwin looked at Rebecca for help, unsure what the woman was doing.
2041 Sanctuary (Dark Descent) Page 30
