by Leyland, L J
Chapter Thirty-nine
‘Maida, we have to go now. We have to get into the Complex,’ said Matthias.
Whilst I’d been spying on the Mayor, Noah had taken control of the situation. He had enlisted the Highlanders to guide the townsfolk into the Complex. He had convinced the Parrots that they had been abandoned. He told them that if they didn’t open the Complex gates and let everyone in, they would die alongside their victims. The gates had been opened and the townsfolk stampeded through them in a sort of controlled chaos. Noah guided his family towards the gates before returning to help us usher everyone else inside; Lady Farringdon was weeping uncontrollably, but the Duchess wore a small smile and a look of intense satisfaction. Iris danced from foot to foot, yet looked saner than she had done since I met her. But I still couldn’t bring myself to stop thinking of the Mayor. I didn’t want him to escape. I wanted him to face up to what he had done.
‘Matthias, we can’t. We have to go to the docks and get the Mayor. The Metropolites have abandoned him. If we don’t find him and drag him back he might get away. I can’t let him get off the hook. I can’t let him get away this time.’
‘Maida, what do you mean “get away”? He’s hiding in the docks; he doesn’t know the wave is coming. He’ll drown like he made others drown. It’s perfect, actually. He’ll suffer the same fate he pushed onto others. It’s called karma. So just forget about him, he’s as good as dead already.’
I danced from foot to foot, unsure what to do. Matthias growled and showed me his shattered, bloody teeth. ‘Listen, I won’t hesitate to carry you. I’ll throw you over my shoulder and lug you there like a carcass if I have to. I’ll humiliate you in front of everyone and drag you there like a sack of potatoes. It’s your choice but we have to get into the Complex now before the wave comes.’
‘But death is too good for him,’ I said quietly. ‘I want him to see what he’s done to us. I want every townsperson to line up and tell him how they’ve suffered. I want him to be held up as an example of what Brigadus people do to traitors. I want to kill him myself.’
Matthias and Noah exchanged a knowing look. They had expected this from me.
‘Maida,’ said Noah, ‘sometimes it’s better to hold your head up high and turn the other cheek. What he has done to this island, to this world, is terrible. But don’t let him drag you down to his level. You’re better than that. Don’t let him stain your hands red with his blood. Let nature have its revenge. Let the wave claim him.’
I looked down at my hands. They were ingrained with dirt and covered in tiny scratches. Noah held out his hand to mine.
I hesitated as I weighed up my options. Finally, with resignation, I took his hand in mine. I had made my choice. As much as I longed to punish the Mayor, I had to learn to make better choices. I couldn’t just be the hot-headed teenager, acting on impulse anymore. I had learned to be better than that. Noah pulled me to my feet and put his arm around me. Matthias smiled at me; finally his pupil had listened to his advice. Finally, his pupil was blossoming into the leader he had trained her to be. They guided me to the Complex just as the Parrots were shutting the gate and beginning to barricade the doors with anything they could find.
‘Regina’s body!’ I cried.
‘Shh, it’s OK,’ said Matthias, smoothing my hair, ‘the Highlanders have carried her in. Fergus has given her his cloak and antlers. He said he’d never seen someone as brave.’
I looked towards the doors of the Complex and saw eight Highlanders carry her body aloft. Her waist-length blonde hair fell like a silver waterfall. Fergus’s green cloak was draped over her like a shroud and his antlers lay across her chest and stomach. Grimmy followed the procession like a lost dog.
‘He’s inconsolable,’ whispered Noah.
He stopped and reached into his pocket. The golden gun, the gun of honour, twinkled serenely, as though unaware of the damage it had just caused. He held it out to me.
‘You’re … you’re giving it back to me? I thought you hated me having it?’
‘I think the curse might be broken. What Regina did was the ultimate sacrifice. It’s happy now.’ He dropped it into my palm and said, ‘The Girl with the Golden Gun. It does have a nice ring to it, now you mention it.’
We walked hand in hand through the Complex. We were barricaded in, protected against the elements. Who would have thought that the symbol of our oppression, the Complex, would become our ark? Who would have thought it would be our saviour, our means to wipe the slate clean, our means to save who was worthy, our means to start again? We were directed onto the roof and we emerged from the ladder to find the entire population of Brigadus huddled together, nervously chattering.
Some women had formed a human chain and were passing out blankets. Others were distributing food, raided from the kitchens. A few teenagers were acting out a story to the delight of a group of nervous children. I laughed. Never before had I seen all of our people gathered in one place, working together for the collective good. I felt a rush of affection for these savages. Savage in circumstance but certainly not in our nature. I spotted Noah’s grandmother, the Duchess, with her arms around Grimmy.
‘Now, now,’ she said, ‘crying won’t do. She wouldn’t want you to cry.’
We walked across the roof to a spot where townsfolk were gathered like a flock of pigeons, shuffling, squawking, trying to find the highest spot, clinging onto drainpipes and buttresses. Noah led us to the watch tower which faced north. Noah, Matthias, Edie, Aiden, and I climbed onto its roof. I reached the roof and turned to haul Edie up. She wasn’t very good at climbing.
She whipped her hands away from me and said, ‘No, Maida, I can do it by myself.’
‘You can?’ I asked.
‘Well … I have to learn,’ she replied with a sheepish smile.
Grimmy joined us shortly after he had extracted himself from Noah’s grandmother’s grip. ‘She’s a tough old bird, your grandma,’ he said.
‘You’ve no idea,’ replied Noah with a wry grin.
I studied Noah as he scanned the scene below. The breeze rippled through his hair and he seemed to glow with an internal fire. He smiled contentedly as he saw his handiwork – everyone together, everyone saved, everyone equal.
I lifted my binoculars and searched the horizon. Across the slate grey surface, something moved. A ripple, racing towards us.
‘It’s coming,’ I said and my family all stood up to see.
The townsfolk became silent and turned to face north. They turned to confront their futures. They turned to confront their pasts.
The sound came first. A rumbling, rushing, hissing sound that buzzed in my ears and filled my brain. The smell came second. Salty and sour, as though the rancid slush of dead sea life and seaweed had been dredged from the ocean floor and thrown into the sky. Finally, the wave revealed itself. The oncoming Arctic ripple met the submerged Brigadus land and was forced upwards, curling and folding over itself until it became a towering wave. It must have been ten storeys high. The wave broke relentlessly against our island and swept inland with a speed that was astonishing.
The townsfolk didn’t gasp. They didn’t cry. They watched emotionlessly as the symbols of their oppression were washed away by the water. Wiped clean. Houses, factories, the docks; all built by the Metropole, all swept into the sea.
I watched the wave tear apart the docks with little resistance. The wooden buildings were broken into matchsticks of timber and thrown into the whirlpool, never to surface again. Matthias said it was karma. But perhaps it was just luck that it happened that way. I imagined the Mayor clinging on as the water grabbed at his ankles and tried to yank him into the depths. Oh, he would be determined. He would struggle and fight against it with all his might. I imagined a battle. Poseidon seeking his revenge against the imposter who thought he could control the waves and melt the ice. The Mayor fighting back but eventually succumbing to his fate. I imagined his grey, bloated face as he sank to the bottom of the ocean. I imagined
the green mottled hands of his victims that eagerly dragged him down. I imagined his eyes glazed with fear as he entered his watery purgatory. I thought about how the fish would get a good meal.
The water swirled as though a plug hole to the underworld had been opened. Still we stood there, watching the water rage against the land.
‘Do you think it’ll ever go down?’ whispered Edie.
‘Eventually, once everything has been wiped clean,’ I said. ‘But don’t worry, there’s enough food in the Complex to last a lifetime. Be thankful that the Mayor was so greedy. We’ll stay in our ark until it’s all clear.’
She nestled her head against mine.
As the sky turned dark and the stars started to emerge, the water began to subside. The ruins of our old civilisation emerged. I couldn’t believe the broken buildings that surfaced. It was like seeing the strange relics of an ancient city; had we really once lived like that? Had we really lived in those shacks?
Matthias put his arm around me and said, ‘We did it. Our best plan to date. Well done, comrade.’ He smiled his broken smile at me.
‘Well done, snaggletooth,’ I teased. ‘I always knew we’d do it. We can start again. Like you said, everyone equal. Matthias? Are you frightened about the future?’
He sighed and stretched out, lying back on the roof, looking at the stars. ‘No, not with my family around me. I’m not frightened anymore.’
Under the moonlight we watched silently as the water swept all the debris back out to sea. It was gone, just like that. All the hurt, hunger and heartache cleansed by the water. Starlight shone in Noah’s eyes as he looked down at me.
‘Now everything is gone, we can start again, Noah. Regina was right. The future’s mine,’ I said.
His hands cupped my face and his lips found mine. ‘No, Maida. The future’s
ours.’
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Published by Accent Press Ltd 2014
ISBN 9781783752997
Copyright © L. J. Leyland 2014
The right of L. J. Leyand to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Accent Press Ltd, Ty Cynon House, Navigation Park, Abercynon, CF45 4SN
