After the End Trilogy Box Set

by Mark Gillespie

  Eda stopped at the bottom of the steep slope. She was about twenty feet away and that was near enough as far as she was concerned. She kept a firm hand on Frankie Boy’s back, squeezing harder on the coat to deter him from approaching the bizarre scene unfolding nearby.

  When David saw Eda stop, he did the same.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” he said. “What the hell are we doing here? Sorry, I never thought it would be like this. Hey, at least the crater’s impressive, right?”

  “Yep,” Eda said, talking through gritted teeth.

  The Children held hands with one another. They stood in a straight line with Baldilocks in the dead center. By now, he no longer appeared interested in Eda and David. Eda was grateful at least that Baldilocks hadn’t summoned them over. The thought came to her as she stood there that along with David and Frankie Boy, she could make a break for it. Maybe steal one of those canoes and get back to the highway. It wasn’t far from here. She could almost feel the blacktop highway under her feet again, wide open spaces on either side, and nowhere in the world she had to be.

  But Eda decided against it. Just a little longer. Let them hold hands and stare into the hole. Sing songs, do whatever it was people like this did. Hopefully they wouldn’t ask anyone to convert until they got back to camp and by then, Eda would be a long way from that hideous chunk of missing earth.

  “It’s time!”

  Baldilocks dropped the hands of the people standing beside him. Slowly, he raised both arms and held them out in a straight line, pushing his fingertips a few inches over the edge of the crater.

  “Great One,” he called out. His voice trembled with awe. “Uncle Sam. Thank you, oh thank you for watching over us, your Children, as you do. Thank you for delivering us from harm every day and allowing us the room to be better. Thank you for the food and the water that sustains our simple existence far from the maddening past. Please accept our daily gratitude for everything you do. For allowing this cursed species to repent.”

  “Thank you Uncle Sam,” the crowd murmured as one.

  “We will never forget,” Baldilocks said, taking a step back. “And we will forever be your Children.”

  “Amen,” the crowd said.

  A long silence followed. The Children’s heads remained bowed and their eyes tightly closed. It was like every one of them was engaging in a silent dialogue with Sam.

  Baldilocks was the first to break away. He turned around and walked over to Eda and David with a stern expression.

  “Now you know,” he said.

  Eda’s posture stiffened up. She sensed it coming any second now.

  Will you join us?

  But it didn’t happen. Baldilocks didn’t ask them to join the cult, at least not yet. Without another word, he began walking back towards the road. The Children followed in single file. Eda noticed their solemn-looking faces – their eyes were still partially closed as if they were locked in a trance, but there was something else happening. A muted chant. One word, over and over again, drifting out of their midst like smoke from a fire. Eda couldn’t quite make it out at first but as they got nearer, she caught it. One word. It had a hypnotic and sinister rhythm, slow at first and then as it went on, it sped up towards it climax.

  “Sam.”

  “Sam.”

  “Sam.”

  “Sam-Sam-Sam.”

  5

  Silence accompanied the three boats on the return journey. It felt like a sacred one so Eda, although full of questions, didn’t break it.

  As the canoes floated along the Passaic River, she visualized what would happen once they reached land. Back to camp, pick up their bags and start walking, with or without an escort. After what she’d seen at the Fairfield crater, Eda was beyond caring whether any of the Children were willing to show them the way out.

  With any luck, Baldilocks and the others would see how eager their visitors were to leave. Then they’d abandon their attempt to convert anyone.

  And once they’d left, Eda, David and Frankie Boy would be back on the highway by early afternoon at the latest. It would give them a few hours of daylight to walk, to put a few miles between themselves and Great Piece Meadows.

  Baldilocks was sitting in the lead boat again. His eyes stared straight ahead as the canoe plowed its way down the center of the river and back towards the Meadows. A gentle breeze blew on what was left of his hair. It danced wildly, like pieces of old string attached to a skull.

  Even the birds were silent on the way back.

  When at last they reached the riverbank near the camp, the Children secured the canoes to the trees and turned them upside down, locking the paddles inside. All the while, the icy silence lingered, much like the plague of biting insects that followed them everywhere. Eda swatted the mosquitoes away. They always came back.

  They trudged back to the camp where the rest of the Children were going about their business – carrying supply bundles back and forth, food preparation, sword sharpening and other routine tasks.

  Eda hung back a little. While the others walked ahead, she reached out and grabbed David by the arm. She squeezed tight. Without looking at her, David nodded as if he understood the message. They had to get out of there and preferably before the uncomfortable question – will you join us? – arose. Nobody else said anything about them leaving. That meant it was up to them to bring it up first. Eda could see some of the Children bringing out plates and spreading them out across the communal table in preparation for lunch.

  She shook her head. All offers would be refused. Politely.

  “Let’s get the bags,” Eda whispered. She elbowed David gently in the ribs. “C’mon.”

  Eda’s heart was racing and yet it was true the Children hadn’t given her any reason to feel so uneasy. They seemed like good people – they’d taken the strangers in, fed them and offered them a comfortable bed for the night. They meant no harm – they only wanted to show off their god and yes, perhaps to convert Eda and David into Uncle Sam worshippers. But they must have thought that was the right way to live and if so, it was a kindness on their part to invite others along for the ride. There was nothing malicious going on. It was how they coped with the past and as Eda knew, anybody who’d survived the End War was grateful to be alive. Gratitude manifested itself a number of different ways. So they worshipped a hole in the ground. So what?

  The swamp was harmless. She had to stop thinking that it was a giant net with no discernable exit.

  David stood like a wooden board beside her. He bit his lip, chewing on it like he was trying to draw blood.

  Eda sighed. She knew it was up to her to be the impolite guest. “Okay,” she said. “Well, thanks for everything. I guess we’d better hit the…”

  Nobody paid any attention to her.

  Eda cleared her throat and tried again. A little louder this time.

  “Hey,” Eda said, not speaking to anyone in particular. Her eyes skipped back and forth, not wanting to single anyone out. Doing this, the little community turned into a blur. It was easier that way.

  “I guess we’d better get going,” she said. “Don’t want to miss out on all that daylight. You know?”

  Countless faces turned to look at her. The blur collapsed and she was met by a wall of blank expressions.

  “Sorry,” Eda said. What the hell was she apologizing for? “We’ve got a lot of walking to do and I think we’d better start covering some of that ground while we can.”

  Still, nobody said anything. They just looked back at her like she’d dragged a rotten carcass into camp and dumped it at their feet.

  Eda didn’t give a damn about picking up supplies anymore. All she wanted was the backpack on her shoulder and the feeling of movement again. To get out.

  She turned to David for support.

  “Right?” she asked.

  But David said nothing. He was as white as a blizzard. Was he experiencing a private nightmare – the slow, churning dread of what they might do to him if he didn’t p
ledge his loyalty to the Uncle Sam cult? Was he, in his mind at least, back at the crater, standing at the edge and looking down?

  Whatever it was, it had rendered him useless.

  “Yeah so we’ll just get our bags and be on our way,” Eda said. She’d already started towards the little cabin they’d spent the night in. Unfortunately it was at the far end of the village and she’d have to pass through the crowd to get there.

  Frankie Boy walked faithfully at her side. She didn’t know if David was behind her or not.

  “Thank you for your hospitality,” she said. She could feel them looking at her. Looking through her.

  Baldilocks stepped forward, separating himself from the crowd. He blocked Eda’s route towards the cabin. When she tried to walk past him, he moved with her, cutting her off once again.

  “Not just yet,” he said.

  Slowly, he turned around and walked through the crowd. The Children parted for their leader like he was pushing them back with magic powers.

  Baldilocks looked at Eda. Then he pointed to the communal table.

  “Please sit down,” he said. “This won’t take a moment.”

  Eda glanced at the table and sighed. This is it, she thought. Conversion time. She threw a desperate look towards David who’d caught up with her at last. His eyes darted back and forth between Baldilocks and Eda. The way he looked, it reminded Eda of a phrase she’d read about once – like a rabbit caught in the headlights. Eda made a mental note to kick David’s ass later. It was his call to follow the Children into the Meadows. He’d been the one who wanted to see Uncle Sam’s crater. And now he was leaving it to her to sort out the mess they were in.

  Fucking men.

  “We have to go,” Eda said.

  “Just a moment,” Baldilocks said. His voice was so quiet that she could barely hear it. “It’s better if you sit down while I talk.”

  Eda knew there was no way around it. She walked over to the table and sat down with a disgruntled sigh. Frankie Boy lay down on the grass while David stayed on his feet, standing directly behind where Eda was sitting on the bench.

  “Some water please,” Baldilocks said, calling out to the crowd.

  The Children’s leader sat down opposite Eda and a painful silence passed until the water arrived. Baldilocks thanked the server, picked up the jug and poured out three glasses. He pushed two of them across the table towards Eda and David. David reached over and snatched his glass, draining it in one gulp like he wished it was something stronger. After that, Eda could hear him breathing behind her; it sounded like he’d just woken up from a nightmare in sweat-soaked sheets.

  Eda was thirsty but she didn’t touch the water.

  “What do you want to say to us?” she said, looking at the man across the table. She would do her best to keep it polite.

  “I took you to the crater today for a reason,” Baldilocks said. As he spoke, he swirled the water in his glass around and stared at it. The dizzying motion of the liquid held his attention for at least ten long seconds. “I took you there to show you who we are. And now that you know, I have a question for you. Do you think we’re crazy?”

  “No,” Eda said. “They way you live here, it’s admirable. I respect what you’ve done.”

  “I wouldn’t blame you,” Baldilocks said, “if you thought we were a bit bonkers. Everyone who knew me in Jersey City thought I was mad. Stark raving mad. Most of them are either dead or they came here with me begging for forgiveness.”

  Baldilocks took a long drink of water. Then he slammed the glass down hard on the table.

  Eda flinched, but tried to keep her composure.

  “I don’t think you’re mad,” she said. “And we’re very grateful that you would consider us worthy of joining the Children and staying here with you. But the truth is, I’ve just left New York after being there for a long time with another community. I’m just not looking to settle down with anyone right now. I want to keep moving – no disrespect intended. Now, we’d like to leave and get back to the road. That’s okay, isn’t it?”

  Baldilocks laughed. But it didn’t last long and as the laughter subsided, his eyes hardened into two blocks of stone.

  “Did I ask you to join us?” he said. “Did I?”

  Eda pushed her glass away. Then she got up to her feet.

  “C’mon,” she said, directing the comment at David behind her. “Let’s get our bags. Let’s go Frankie Boy.”

  Eda began to walk away. Then she stopped dead.

  About ten of the Children were trudging across the muddy road in the heart of the village. They were walking towards the communal table, all of them carrying short swords with a bright silver hilt and distinct leaf-shaped blade.

  She heard a noise to her left.

  On the other side of the table, another ten Children approached, all of them with swords in hand. And a mean look in their eyes too.

  “You’re surrounded,” Baldilocks said. “Don’t try anything silly now. It’s a waste of energy, hmmm?”

  Eda unsheathed the dagger from her belt anyway. She looked at the Children closing in on both sides, daring them to come closer.

  “What’s going on?” she said. “You won’t let us go?”

  Baldilocks shook his head. “There’s really no need for this is there?” he said. “I hate violence. Really, I hate it.”

  He held up a hand. The Children on either side halted their advance and slowly, they lowered their weapons.

  “We’ll talk this over like adults,” Baldilocks said. “It’s for the best.”

  “Talk what over?” Eda said. “Just let us go. Okay? You can’t hold us captive in here when we’ve done noting wrong. Have we offended you or something? Are you afraid that we’re going to tell someone out there about your home? Well we’re not. It’s none of our business anyway. David, Frankie Boy, let’s go.”

  Eda stepped over the bench and backed off, still facing Baldilocks and his chilling, blank expression. She moved a few paces away from the communal table. Then she bumped into something sharp and stopped dead, her hands shooting up into the air automatically.

  David was standing behind her.

  The tip of his sword was pushing into her back.

  Eda felt a rush of dizziness. “What the fuck?” she yelled.

  David put a hand on Eda’s shoulder and spun her around. He reached out and snatched the dagger out of her hand before she knew what was happening. He quickly tucked the weapon into his belt and then stared at her for a couple of seconds. His left eye twitched nervously. Eda saw regret in there, or at least she thought she did.

  “What are you doing?” she asked. Her voice was tame, almost unrecognizable in its shock. “David! What the hell are you doing?”

  “I’m sorry Eda,” David said. “This isn’t easy for me. But the Complex isn’t the only community of survivors that sends out ambassadors to do a job. Only here in the swampland, we call them Seekers.”

  Eda shook her head, unable to stop.

  “David…?”

  He took a step closer.

  “Back in New York you were smart enough to realize that I wasn’t one of the bandits,” he said. “It’s like I told you, I met them here in Jersey on their way to New York. What I didn’t tell you was that I went with them because I was Seeking. I was trying to single one of them out, lure him away from the pack and bring him back here. Of course, things didn’t go to plan. But I stuck around New York because I knew there were other people – your people to be exact. I knew I’d find someone in the end.”

  “You dirty bastard,” Eda said. “After what I did for you. I saved your life.”

  Baldilocks waved a dismissive hand in the air.

  “Enough,” he said. “We don’t care about the details anymore. All that matters is that the Seeker has brought one last soul to us. You’ve done well Number 47.”

  “Thank you,” David said.

  “Number 47?” Eda said, gawping at David.

  David leaned in closer. “
Remember that Englishman I told you about? The one who raised me after the war?”

  “Jesus,” Eda said, turning back to look at Baldilocks.

  No wonder David been so quiet and unassertive over the past couple of days. So useless. He’d been biding his time, the son of a bitch.

  Eda glanced at the tip of her dagger poking out of David’s belt. If his sword hadn’t been in the way, she would have made a grab for it there and then. After that, she’d stick it in his throat without hesitation.

  “This wasn’t easy for me,” David said. “I like you Eda, I really do. All I can say is try to think of the big picture here. This isn’t a community of crazy people like you think it is – we’re trying to repair the damage of human history. We’re trying to fix things because listen to me, Uncle Sam is real and he’s right underneath that Fairfield crater. He’s real and he can do whatever he wants with us whenever he wants. He’s already wiped eight billion people off the face of the planet for God’s sake. And how many are left? A few thousand? Less? If we don’t appease the Great One, there’s no way back for the human race.”

  “Sit down Eda.” It was Baldilocks. “Please.”

  Eda glanced at Frankie Boy. The dog was leaning up against her, oblivious to the unfolding disaster.

  “Sit down,” Baldilocks said again.

  Eda sat down on the bench. David stayed close behind her like an armed guard watching over his captive.

  Baldilocks leaned over the table and Eda heard his camouflage clothes creaking. Either that or it was the old man’s bones. There was a manic glint in his eyes as he spoke.

  “We have to do this,” he said, his fingers digging deep into the wood like he was hanging on for his life. “But take it from me Eda, nobody takes any pleasure in the act. I promise you.”

  “Just let me go,” Eda said. “Please.”

  Baldilocks edged back into his seat. He shook his head.

  “Everyone here remembers the horror of those years,” he said. “The sheer horror of it. What they saw, the loved ones they lost and the manner in which they lost them. We’re hanging on by a thread Eda. We’re at his mercy, you, me, everyone. So, we do as he asks of us. Four souls a year – that’s the price of peace.”