Shadows of Tockland

by Jeffrey Aaron Miller

  Telly frowned. “I did say that, didn’t I?” Then he turned and started down the line of trailers.

  “Well, why do I have to go up there with you?”

  Telly paused. “Because, kid, you look young and friendly.”

  “I do?”

  “Compared to the rest of us? Absolutely,” Telly replied. “Other than Belle, but a dame like her gets the wrong kind of attention. Come on. Let’s go make friends.”

  David grunted unhappily and went with him.

  Chapter Eleven

  A Friendly Sort of Place

  One of the guards stepped forward, a hard-looking woman with a face that was all sharp angles. Her hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail beneath a small, red beret. She had a rifle slung over her shoulder and a pistol in a holster at her hip. Her right hand rested on her belt, close to the holster. Behind her, the other guards were spaced out evenly across the northbound lanes, all similarly armed, unfriendly eyes watching.

  “Where have you come from?” the woman asked in a voice like cracking ice. “And where are you headed?”

  The question was directed at Gooty, who sat on the running board of the truck, arms crossed. He looked at Telly and pretended not to have heard the question. Telly signaled for David to follow him and stepped past Gooty. The guard woman’s hand slipped closer to the pistol grip.

  “Step back,” she said.

  Telly nodded curtly, stopped in his tracks and took a step back, bumping into David.

  “Sorry, ma’am,” Telly said. “I meant no offense. I’m the boss of this here operation.”

  The woman looked, if possible, even more annoyed. She stooped down to Telly’s eye level, and her untrimmed eyebrows lowered. “Where have you come from, and where are you headed?”

  “Ma’am, we are performers,” Telly said. “Clowns, in fact. We come from all over. We’ve performed in Toronto and Fargo and Elizabeth City and all along the southern coast. We have entertained princes and generals, lords and paupers alike.”

  The woman sniffed. “You’ve been through West Fork.” It was a statement, not a question.

  Telly cleared his throat and glanced back at David. David shrugged. If this was the part where his young and friendly appearance was supposed to help, then Telly was out of luck.

  “As a matter of fact, we have,” Telly said. “We put on a performance there just last night. That is to say, we tried. It was by no means a rousing success.”

  “A performance?” the woman said, a look of disgust on her face. “In West Fork?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Telly said. “We can give you a little demonstration, if you’d like. Young David here does a most impressive kind of flip—”

  “Not necessary,” she said, cutting him off.

  Another guard stepped forward, a stern looking older man with gray stubble on his prominent chin. He leaned in close and said something to the woman which David couldn’t quite make out. The woman nodded and unslung her rifle.

  “Oh, hey, wait a second,” Telly said, raising his hands. “No need for that.”

  Gooty rose, caught hold of the door handle and tensed, as if he meant to make a run for it.

  But the woman did not level the gun at them. Instead she turned toward the guard tower, lifted one hand and made a twirling gesture with her fingers.

  “Two of you are to accompany Officer Mayes here,” the older guard said, pointing first at the woman, then at the gate. “She will take you to the Council House, and they will decide your fate.”

  Telly started to say something, but just then the gate gave a deafening clank. The clank became the low grinding of gears as the gate swung inward. Telly looked back at Gooty, who shook his head. Then he looked at David. He wanted David to go with him, clearly, but David feigned ignorance. He shuffled his feet and glanced away. Beyond the gate, he saw well-tended streets framing clusters of brick and concrete buildings. People milled about, and chrome glinted in the mid-morning sun as a vehicle passed through a gap.

  When the grinding of gears ceased, and the gate came to a jarring stop, the older guard stepped forward and flicked a hand at Telly.

  “Arms up,” he said, and when Telly complied, the guard slid the billy club out of his belt loop and tossed it aside. Then he frisked Telly, turned him around, frisked him again and nodded.

  “He’s clean,” he said, pushing Telly past him. He did the same to David, who thrust his hands as high as he could and hoped the guard could not feel him trembling.

  “Clean,” he said of David. “Take them to the Council House.”

  “Do we need to bind their hands?” a third guard asked.

  “No. Officer Mayes, make them walk ahead of you. If they give you any trouble, deal with it as you think best.”

  Officer Mayes, she of the severe, angular face, gestured them into the city with the barrel of her rifle. “Let’s go,” she said.

  “Come on, David, my boy,” Telly said, reaching back and snagging his hand. “Never you fear, kid. We’ll all be friends by the end of the day.”

  David tried to pull his hand free, but it was half-hearted. Telly was already drawing him toward the open gate. The other guards parted to let them pass.

  “If you don’t mind my asking,” Telly said to Officer Mayes. “What is the purpose of all of this security?”

  “You’ve been to West Fork,” she said. “You know the answer to that question.”

  “Fending off the sick?”

  “Not just the sick,” she said. “There are enemies on all sides.”

  “And I suppose—”

  “Shut your mouth and walk,” she said, placing a boot between his shoulders and giving him a kick.

  He lost his grip on David’s hand and fell, catching himself against a corner of the gate. When he’d picked himself up, he gave Officer Mayes a formal bow, a tip of his hat and walked into the city.

  David inadvertently slowed as he passed through the open gate, which earned him a kick in the seat of his pants. He did a little hop and hurried after Telly. The sickness burned in his guts again, but he also had a hard little knot right below his heart, something cold and heavy and unbending. When he looked back over his shoulder at the woman, that awful woman with the knife-blade cheekbones, it was not only fear he felt but something dangerous, something that had come out of him in West Fork and lingered now.

  He looked past her at the truck and the line of trailers. In the distance, he thought he saw someone peeking around the corner of the performers’ trailer. A hint of dark hair and a fair cheek, Annabelle leaning over the porch railing. As the gate rumbled shut behind him, and Officer Mayes jabbed a finger at his face to make him turn around, he wondered if it would be his last glimpse of her, and he realized he very much did not want it to be. He felt the red fog curling into the corners of his mind. Only fear of being shot kept him walking, but even then, his footsteps became plodding and angry.

  Ahead of him, the city lay in neat rows on either side of the highway, low brick houses and long concrete structures that might have been shops or churches or, for all he knew, places to stockpile ammunition. Ahead and just to the right of the northbound lanes, one building stood out from the others, white stone with a domed ceiling and a crimson flag flying from the top. Telly moved toward this building instinctively—it had the look, the grandeur and sweep of an official building—and Officer Mayes did not correct his course. David followed.

  As they moved through town, people came out to gawk at them, slipping through doors or slinking out of the shadows. Children whispered and laughed and pointed, old people glared and shook their heads. A car, sleek and silver and belching brown smoke from twin tail pipes, rounded a corner and came to a stop, the driver leaning out of his window to stare. A few came close, mostly children with sticks making as if to prod them, but Officer Mayes cursed at them and waved them away. An ancient man in a fine red robe was sitting on a wicker chair beneath an awning. As they passed, he leaned forward, spat a glob of tobacco and hailed the gua
rd.

  “What are they, and where you taking them?” he asked.

  “To the Council House, Pops,” she replied. “Mind your business, please.”

  He frowned and leaned back in his chair, the wicker creaking. “All’s I done was ask.”

  Telly looked at the man and seemed on the verge of saying something, but David put a finger to his lips. Despite what Telly seemed to think, David did not expect that they would all be friends anytime soon, and his attempts could only make things worse.

  “They’re clowns,” Officer Mayes said. “That’s all I know. Don’t go spreading gossip.”

  “I never done,” Pops replied. “That one up front is just about the littlest man I ever saw in my life. What is he?”

  “That is to be determined,” Officer Mayes replied.

  Pops said something else, but they were already moving away from him, and the words were lost in the stiff breeze. Telly kept them moving at a brisk pace. David couldn’t imagine why. This could only end badly—why hurry to it?

  As they approached the massive stone building, David saw that the flag on top was actually a long ribbon, solid red with no other markings. What it might signify he did not know. Vehicles were parked in front of the building along a narrow strip of parking lot, vehicles like none he had ever seen, slender and shiny and multi-colored. They had fat, black tires and oversized, almost comical fenders back and front.

  More guards stood at the bottom of a broad staircase leading up to the building’s only door. As they approached, two of the guards turned in their direction, and one stepped forward.

  “Where are you taking these people?” he asked.

  “To see the Council,” Officer Mayes said. “They claim to be some kind of traveling performers. There are more of them outside the southern gate. We didn’t know what else to do with them.”

  “Council is in session. You’ll have to put them in a holding cell for now.”

  “Fine,” Officer Mayes said. She jabbed David between the shoulder blades with butt of her rifle. “Up the steps. Through that door.”

  David bit his lip as a surge of anger went through him. The crazy was close to the surface. He fought it and followed Telly up the steps. The single door, set in a recessed wall, opened into a dim and dusty interior. They entered and found themselves in a high-ceilinged foyer, a mosaic of red and white tiles at their feet forming a crude sunburst pattern. Across the room, more guards stood on either side of a double door, but Officer Mayes directed Telly to a hallway in the corner.

  At the end of the hall, a narrow iron door with a barred window gave way to a cell with a metal bench and toilet. David didn’t want to go in. He almost preferred the idea of being shot. When he hesitated, Officer Mayes jabbed him in the back again.

  “You’ll only be in there a little while,” she said. “Until the Council is ready. An hour or two at most. Someone will bring you something to drink.”

  David didn’t want a drink. He didn’t want to be in the cell. What he wanted more than anything at that moment was to scream, fling himself at Officer Mayes and gnash his teeth on her face. Waves of nausea radiated out of his guts to his extremities. Telly paused at the door and turned to wait for him. Seeing the look on David’s face, he frowned.

  “It’ll be alright, kiddo,” he said. “I’ve been in worse scrapes than this. People are skittish these days, that’s all. Give it a chance to work itself out.”

  David clasped his hands so tightly, his knuckles hurt, but he forced himself to walk the last few steps to the cell. Better to be shot. A bullet in the head would be worth it if he could only sink his teeth into that awful face. But, no, that was not a sane person’s thinking. He chastised himself for letting the crazy take over and followed Telly into the cell.

  “I’ll come back and get you when it’s time,” Officer Mayes said. A cold voice. The woman felt nothing. She took no joy in locking them up, neither did she particular care what they thought about their treatment. David looked at her, met her flat gaze, her dead eyes, and he hated her.

  She shut the door, and the clank of metal on metal was so loud, David covered his ears and stumbled back against the bench.

  “I can’t be in here,” he said, sitting down. “What if she leaves us forever?”

  Telly waved off the comment, and that only made David feel worse. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and bent double. Officer Mayes’s footsteps faded down the hallway, and then she was gone. Somewhere outside, another car drove by, the high whine of its engine piercing the dull quiet of the cell. Fayette, that was its name, a city built on the ruins of a much older and larger city. People in Mountainburg had spoken of it, but nobody had ever mentioned the walls or the guns.

  “These people aren’t half as smart as they think they are,” Telly said, taking a seat on the bench.

  “What are you talking about?” David replied.

  “They marched us in here without binding our hands,” Telly said. “They only did a rudimentary pat down. Sure, they found my billy club, but for all they know, I’ve got a bomb nestled right up my backside.”

  “Do you have a bomb nestled right up your backside?”

  “Well…no,” Telly said.

  “Then what’s the point in saying it?”

  Telly laughed uncomfortably. “Wow, kid. Underneath that thin candy coating, you’re a bitter son of a gun, aren’t you?”

  “No,” David replied, closing his eyes.

  “The point is, these people don’t know what they’re doing,” Telly said. “Someone has loaded them up on guns, and they’re trying to act tough, but they’re really nothing more than your run-of-the-mill dim rubes.”

  “Even a run-of-the-mill dim rube can pull a trigger,” David replied.

  “This is true,” Telly said. “Which is why we’ve got to win them over. It won’t be the first time I’ve had to pour on the charm. Look, if you’re called on to speak, just put on your winningest smile and play the simpleton. You look like a nice young man, and that’s what we want them to think you are. They don’t have to know you’ve got a crazy streak a mile wide.”

  “I do not.”

  “C’mon, kid,” Telly said with a little twang that made David want to smack him. “Did I or did I not watch you fend off a bunch of violent rubes with a ceramic bowl?”

  David refused to answer.

  “Only thing I can’t figure,” Telly said, tapping a finger against his chin, “is what the crimson flag is all about. Red is not the Tockland color. Silver and black is Tockland. Who are they aligned with? Any ideas?”

  David was rocking back and forth, taking deep breaths to calm himself. He didn’t feel like talking. “No, no ideas.”

  “You okay, kid?”

  David shook his head.

  Telly slid a bit closer to him and reached out, though with great hesitation, resting a hand on his shoulder. To his surprise, David found that the touch calmed him.

  “I’m not okay,” David said. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t want to be crazy. I don’t.”

  “Ah, you’re not really crazy,” Telly replied, patting him. “Honestly, I think you’re just high strung, a nervous type. When we call you crazy, we’re just ribbing you a little bit. Don’t take it to heart.”

  David nodded. “Are they going to kill us?”

  “Nah, I don’t think so,” Telly replied.

  “You don’t sound convinced.”

  “Forget how I sound,” Telly said, giving him a final pat before sliding to the far side of the bench. “Look, when we get in there, I might ask you to do one of your little flip flops for them. Think you can do that?”

  “If I have to,” David said, but the truth was, in his current condition, he didn’t think he could stick a landing to save his life.

  They heard footsteps again in the hallway. After a moment, the door gave a loud clank and drew open. Another guard was standing there, one hand resting on the butt of his pistol. He was old, grizzled and unhappy.
r />   “Ah, see there,” Telly said to David. “It’s already time to go. That wasn’t too long.”

  “Not time to go,” the guard said. “Brought water.” He produced a small plastic bottle of water and tossed it at them. David reached for it and missed, but Telly lunged down and snagged it just before it hit the ground.

  And then the guard was gone, shutting the door again. Telly offered the bottle to David, and he took it. He still had the sour aftertaste of warm beer in his mouth. It took a minute to work off the cap, his hands were shaking so badly. He took a long drink.

  “Would it have killed them to bring us a nice sandwich?” Telly said. “This kind of thing goes a whole lot easier with a nice sandwich.”

  David wiped a dribble of water off his chin and passed the bottle to Telly, who took it, considered it, then set it on the ground between his feet.

  The wait was interminable, but it gave David time to get control of himself. When the guards finally returned, after what might have been an hour, he had regained some semblance of calm, and the poison in his belly had diminished to a dull ache.

  Officer Mayes stood at the door, flanked by two other guards. Her rifle was slung over her shoulder. “Let’s go,” she said, beckoning them. “The Council is ready to see you.”

  “Very good, dear lady,” Telly said, trying but mostly failing to sound gregarious.

  David rose, took a tentative step and followed Telly out the door. They were led back down the hall to the foyer, only now the double doors were open. Beyond lay a room dominated by a massive table of dark, polished wood surrounded by high-backed chairs. Light streamed into the room from narrow windows high up on the walls, and a massive chandelier of polished brass hung from the ceiling. Officer Mayes gestured for them to enter the room, then took up a position with the other guards near the doors.

  Half the seats were empty, the others occupied by an unusual assortment of old and young, robust and frail, all dressed in gaudy multi-layered robes in shades of crimson and white. The old man at the head of the table had jowls that seemed to be melting into his shoulders, oversized lips and a bulbous nose. Tiny eyes peered out from under a deeply-lined and sunburned forehead. A small nameplate on the table in front of his folded hands read, Councilman Peavey.