by P. G. Burns
“Sex and violence is all that they have left.” Baal says quietly as they sit at a makeshift table. “Don’t you worry though, no one in here will harm you. You are with me. Now we need to wait for my friend to come meanwhile you may witness some of life’s more sinful behaviour. This will not kill you, so try not to be too offended.”
Ember watches the activities with curiosity. She realises very soon that although there is a lot of rowdy activity, the majority of people were actually enjoying themselves, even the girls didn’t seem too averse to getting molested up against the bar while their suitors pulled them around by their hair. She is mesmerised by it all: hands and mouths all over each other, bodies writhing and screams that Ember can’t work out if derived from pain or pleasure. She witnesses an abundance of naked flesh but it is not like the beautiful carved figurines at the museum or even the old-fashioned photographs she’d found of naked men and women in her dad’s room that day. No, this flesh is covered in puss-filled sores, welts and burns, matted hair and caked in dirt. She can’t look away but the scene is beginning to make her feel nauseous. Adam also feels he should look away but can’t either. Ember occasionally looks at him but his eyes are elsewhere, his mouth open. Her mind thinks back to their shy and immature discussion of sex earlier and she blushes at her naivety.
Eventually three huge black guys enter the bar, amidst them a small black boy who wears a trilby hat and carries a small paper bag. Baal waves and the boy dismisses his entourage and joins the trio.
“What’cha Baal, my yellow nigger,” says the boy and Ember watches curiously as the two men enter into some sort of ritual handshake. “Boiled sweet?” he asks her, sitting down.
“Oh, no. No, thank you,” she says, looking dubiously at the colourful contents of the paper bag.
“Chamuel, this is Ember Jones,” Baal says to the boy. “She has been compromised and the Mackies are tracking her down.”
The boy, Chamuel, looks Ember up and down. He can’t be more than eighteen, she thinks.
“Girl, you looking just like ya mammy.” He smiles warmly at her.
Ember is shocked. Ridiculous! Firstly how could a young black boy have ever known her high-born Aryan mum? Secondly she knows she does not look like her mum, quite the opposite. In fact she barely resembled either of her parents. “We found you under a tree,” her mum would often joke to explain this.
Before she can question Chamuel, Baal interrupts. “We need to get these two out of the city now and get them to the camp. Raphael has been captured. I witnessed it. Solfrid was there. She took him down.”
A sudden look of anger appears in place of Chamuel’s smile. “That no-good, blonde daughter of a bitch. Why does she not fuck off and die?”
He stands and calls over the three black men, whispering into the ear of the largest, then he turns back to the table. “Okay kids, time to rock and roll. Baal, you wait here, they will probably track you to this place so you’re going to have to take one for the team. We will move faster without your fat ass holding us up anyway, so you stay here and hold them off. My boys will help you and I’d guess most of these good people will come to your aid as well. Motherfuckers love a fight. You two,” he says to Adam and Ember, “are coming with your Uncle Chamuel, so let’s get de fuck outta dodge.”
Baal reaches for Chamuel and slips him the disc. Chamuel places it under his hat. They leave with this new stranger in a hurry, Adam and Ember once again looking at each other as if for reassurance.
Chamuel leads them through a maze of alleyways, often strewn with people fighting and copulating, eventually getting back to the path running alongside the sewer channel. They jog down the track for a mile until the number of people dwindles to nothing and then they reach a weir with several outflow pipes. The waste water can be heard picking up speed when it enters these pipes, suggesting a steep drop on the other side. Chamuel hunts around for something in the dark behind where Ember stands. He makes a triumphant noise and returns with two elongated fibreglass oval boards.
“Ah, me old surfboards! I knew you’d come in handy one day.” He kisses the bigger of the boards then explains what must be done. “Right, we need to take the third waste pipe; it should open soon. Ember, you get on old faithful here with me. Adam, you take the small one. We’ll tie them together and I’ll lead. Now don’t be flash or anything, just lie belly down and paddle to that tunnel.”
“Which tunnel?” says Adam, looking a little daunted.
“That one on the right. Not that one. And definitely not that storm drain on the left-hand side,” Chamuel says. “There will be a current so stay behind me and you should be fine. Okay, get on your board.”
Adam is hoping that he has misunderstood but knows he hasn’t. He is expected to get onto this thin floating bit of plastic and paddle through the shit and waste of the city, then direct it to the entrance of a waste pipe, hurtle down said waste pipe – which is also full of shit – to god knows where while holding on for dear life, hoping he doesn’t fall into the shit!
“No fucking way am I getting on that little thing and going down through one of them fucking death traps! Are you mental?”
Chamuel seems unfazed as he places his board in the water and gently slides across from the bank so that he is now kneeling on it.
“Look mate, shit is shit,” says Chamuel. “And twenty-second-century shite is just the same as twenty-first-century shite and believe me I’ve waded through that too. Now, it ain’t pleasant, but if you don’t follow me you will be caught and I promise you, you will beg for shite in your hair if those Mackies get hold of you.”
Ember is already sliding onto the back of Chamuel’s board. Adam groans but relents and places his smaller board in the shitty water.
“Okay, we are not travelling first class any more, people,” says Chamuel. “Make sure you go down the right hand tunnel. Do not go down the pipe on the left! I repeat, do not go down the left-hand one. Understand?”
Adam’s question on what is down the left pipe is ignored as Chamuel continues with his instructions. Ember, who has resigned herself to do whatever it takes to get out of this hellhole, very gingerly slides across and kneels up behind Chamuel. This morning she would have been questioning every step of this but somehow it just seems easier to accept her fate and trust these bizarre strangers. At least she isn’t alone, she thinks to herself, looking at Adam as he struggles to mount his board without falling.
Adam is not looking convinced.
“Get on, Adam. We have no choice.” Ember asserts herself, knowing Adam will not leave her to face this peril alone. He is just about the only thing keeping her sane and stopping her from completely losing her cool at this point. She looks him in the eye, lips tight, and he knows not to question. He finally settles onto his board.
“Take the ropes tightly,” says Chamuel. “If you fall in, keep hold, and the board will at least pull you along. Now we need to shimmy these things out into the water.” Chamuel dips his hands into the putrid water and paddles out towards the middle. “I christen this boat Solfrid,” he declares, “as it’s as flat as her tits and stiff as her bony ass!”
Ember can’t help but feel horrified at this mocking of the High Priestess she has revered all her life, but maybe it’s time to change. Instead she worries that the pipe is not wide enough. She imagines them blocking the entrance, causing a dam of waste water, which will envelope them and for certain kill them. What a way to go, she thinks, drowned in faeces.
“Huddle up, it’s going to be a tight fit,” Chamuel says, confirming her anxiety. “And don’t forget to hold your breath.”
The sudden surge catches Adam off-guard and he has little control though Chamuel skilfully directs the boards towards the right pipe. Ember closes her eyes and holds on for dear life as Chamuel squats down low, preparing to enter the black hole. Behind them there’s a rush of air. Chamuel looks back, worried.
“Uh oh.”
“What?” says Adam, also looking back.
&nb
sp; “Incoming,” says Chamuel going ashen.
There’s a roaring noise and then a torrent of water can been seen hurtling towards them.
“Paddle!” Chamuel shouts.
Quickly all three dip their hands in and scoop like mad. The roar of the coming water increases and just as the first board is about to enter the pipe Adam’s board gets jack-knifed as the sudden wave hits. He crashes against the wall with a cry of surprise and tumbles off.
Ember screams for Adam but as soon as they enter the right-hand pipe they are plummeting down, rattling from side to side. Her head bashes against the metal pipe around her and her arm grazes along rusted walls. No words are possible as it picks up more and more speed as they ride the crest of the wave but she is sure she hears Chamuel shout out a childlike yelp of excitement. Then with a sudden whoosh they launch into another underground river. Chamuel quickly reaches out to an exposed tree root that hangs above and steadies the vessel.
“Wahoo! Back in the day people paid good money to go on a ride like that,” Chamuel enthuses in a high-pitched scream. He looks back and his childish state changes, “Where’s Adam?”
Ember is shaking. “He came off right before we entered the tunnel. Maybe he will be here, he can’t be far behind…”
They both look up expectantly. A heavy weight forms in Ember’s stomach as she keeps her eyes on the exit, willing Adam to appear. Chamuel paddles the board to the side of the river, guiding it to the embankment so they can disembark.
“Don’t worry. He’s tough cookie. He’ll be fine,” Chamuel says, not wanting to lie but needing to calm Ember down. The crazed look in her eyes makes him nervous.
As the realisation that she has just lost Adam hits, she borders on hysterics. The only thing keeping her feet on the ground is Adam. They were in this together. Without him she has no idea what the hell she is doing.
“No. He won’t,” she cries. “The excess water would have dragged him towards the left-hand pipe. What’s down there? Where does it go? Tell me!”
Adam’s board is lost. Not a strong swimmer, he struggles vainly to swim against the tide which is now dragging him towards the left-hand pipe. Desperate to avoid this he kicks hard and grapples with the wall, his fingers catching a small ridge. He holds on for grim life but then a second surge hits him and pulls him from the wall, dragging him right into the mouth of the left pipe.
Desperately holding his breath Adam feels like he is being spun in a blending device as he whirls rapidly around the wrong pipe. It descends at a sharp angle and seems to go on for an age. He doubts the destination will be any better than the trip but he needs to get out of here before he runs out of air and limbs. A particularly brutal tumble smashes his ribs into the wall of the pipe and any remaining air is knocked out of him. Suddenly, though, he is airborne, gasping for breath before he plummets down into an underground lake.
He is underwater again, rolling, not knowing up from down. Then the waters calm and he can see flickering light in one direction. He heads for it as his throat burns and his ribs spasm in pain. He breaks the surface, delighted but terrified. Chamuel never did say what was down this tunnel. He half swims, half floats to the water’s edge where he can see he is in a large cave, courtesy of hundreds of flaming torches placed around the walls.
‘Fire means people, surely,’ he thinks. ‘Is that good or bad?’
In the distance Adam can hear some scrambling. It sounds like some sort of animal noise and a stampede getting closer and closer. He looks for somewhere to hide but cannot make one out. The din is getting louder as whatever it is gets closer. Panicking, he swims to the edge and scuttles behind a rock in the darkest space he can find as his ribs pulse with pain. A hundred or more shadowy figures are entering the huge cave. He watches as they scurry around the edges of the lake, excitedly gathering the many bits of litter that have arrived with the rush of water.
Adam lies flat trying to avoid detection. He is on the far side of the lake and notices the figures don’t seem keen on getting too wet as they pull objects from the pool with long stick-like hooks. Adam feels a slight sense of hope. He assumes these are a nasty gang, remembering Chamuel’s warning about not wanting to end up flowing down the left pipe. Also the sounds coming from the group are not what he would associate with a friendly welcoming party. Adam struggles to make out any individuals but can see they are working in unison as they scavenge through the waste. “How bad does it have to be to have to survive off shit that has already been cherry picked by the other inhabitants?” he asks himself.
The answer soon becomes clear as a larger member of the group climbs up on a rocky parapet next to one of the flamed torches. Adam gulps as he can see exactly what he has stumbled upon and why Chamuel was so reluctant to travel down this side.
With thick leathery skin that covers his large forehead and an elongated bottom jaw, the beast is distinct. His powerful limbs hold his body, covered in a down of rough hair. Upright and wide shouldered, the figure is revealed to be an emaciated and decaying, but fearsome-looking, Humanzee. Its cold eyes strike fear into Adam’s heart. He recoils in a sudden panic and rising to his knees staggers backwards, dislodging a rock as he moves. A splash as the rock hits the water alerts the beast, who turns, looking towards him. A prayer is all the young man can muster. “Please God, don’t let him see me.”
A snarl from the beast causes its large, fierce-looking teeth to unfurl as it points towards Adam’s hideout, screeching to the others who all turn to look. A moment’s silence is broken by a cacophony of screams as the pack seems to go into a frenzy, running in then out of the cold water, none daring to go above their depth, but seemingly desperate to reach him. Adam’s relief that they cannot cross over to him is short-lived as three or four figures carrying tall objects come into view. They are large poles and the beasts are pushing them into the ground. He looks up and his terror is compounded as he can see the labyrinth of tree roots hanging from the cave ceiling. The poles will reach them easily and then the agile-looking beasts will effortlessly swing from one to the next, transporting themselves to his little sanctuary.
The first attempt fails as a small member falls into the water while trying to reach the roots. His aids drop the pole so he can scramble out and back to the shore. A second and third attempt also fail and Adam allows himself to hope once more. The figures seem defeated and have gone quiet, then suddenly more pandemonium ensues as a larger pole arrives and two of the pack lodge it firmly into the mud, holding it steady, then tipping it towards the roots. It easily reaches and Adam decides he must take flight. He looks around but there is nowhere to go. He looks back up and can see three Humanzees now climbing the pole.
A noise behind him reveals he is no longer alone and an unseen assailant grabs him, clasping his head under their arm and pulling him into the lake and below the water. Petrified, Adam can see nothing. Powerless to resist the firm grip around his neck, he is dragged further and further down. Certain he is about to die, one flicker of a thought gives him some hope. “Those Humanzees can’t swim so how is this one dragging me down into these depths? It can’t be a Humanzee.”
“Humanzees… they live out there, don’t they?” Ember is still trying to extract information from a reluctant Chamuel.
Eventually he relents. “Yes, but believe me, if I am right, which I always am, there is much worse than them down there. We got to keep moving, Ember. I am sorry about Adam, really I am, but we can do nothing. I have to get you out of here and follow the plan. We have a mission and nothing can stand in the way.”
Ember’s mind is going round in circles as she tries to process everything she has gone through. And now she has to do it without her partner in crime, on her own, without even the prospect of her dad being able to help her. She can feel the heat of tears behind her eyes and is desperately trying to stop them from pushing through. She knows as soon as those tears start to fall she will completely lose it
.
What other creatures could be down there? She tries not to think about what might be happening to Adam but all sorts of vile and terrifying images flash through her mind. And then Chamuel’s words sink in. A mission? What mission? The panic fades as she begins to think things through: the disc and everything Raphael had been saying was all leading to something. The possibility of purpose sharpens her mind and she looks at Chamuel with focused eyes.
“Wait…What do you mean… mission?”
Leo’s notes…
Thirteen Djinn left Levant with gold and harem?
Reuben went to Italy - He is our main worry, seems to be evil personified, definitely doesn’t like Jews. Mainly in Europe now, Possible based in England
Levi Egypt Still in play Simeon thinks he is controlling both the US and Canadian governments.
Simeon Greece Now part supporting humans and recruiting new champion. Seems to have a serious drinking problem!!
Zeb China Believed to be still in play either China or Russia
Judd East Asia Believed to be still in play either China or Russia.
Daniel Ethiopia First of the Djinn to return to their home after death caused by an accident in Africa
Naphtali South America Dead I think he returned as well?
Isaac Iberia? Spain/Portugal - Seems to of been a victim of whoever or whatever is killing these Djinn and taking their amulets. He has not returned to Djinn dimension.
Asher West Asia - Assumed to still be active
Gad North Africa Dead not returned
Ephraim India Dead not returned
Joseph North America Dead not returned
Benjamin ??? Stayed in the Levant = Middle East Persia? Iran? Unknown believed dead not returned
