“Richard, calm down.” This was spoken by Councilman Spencer, good-looking and younger than the rest but by no means young, himself. His salt and pepper hair was shaved close to his head, and he had an athletic build. “Nobody is disputing, if in fact it was Samuel’s people that did this, that they ignored the mandate of the Council. However, considering the circumstances,” at this he gestured out the large window that formed the fourth wall of the room, at the ebony mass that hovered in the western sky, “perhaps emergency actions can be sanctioned. We are under assault...clearly from the same thing that attacked and presumably destroyed New Haven. Politicians don’t determine the outcome of battles. Generals do. It would appear that we’ve gone too long without one.”
“Military actions still require our assent! Anything else only encourages more of the same!”
Samuel had to admit it; his decision to omit the Council’s involvement, for approval or permission to employ the cannons, had been a deliberate one. He’d make the same choice again if he were given the chance. It irritated him that any of them would take what he had accomplished—waking up the generators and giving the Spire a chance to defend itself—and douse it in their self-importance and political protocol.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said.
At his voice the conversation ceased, and all heads turned in his direction. He walked further into the room and placed himself directly in their midst. Gorman took one look at the blood on his coveralls, the result of his nosebleed in the server room, and concern blossomed on his face.
“Samuel! Are you hurt? What happened?”
Samuel waved him off. It wasn’t the time.
“Ah,” Councilman Gray said. Samuel had never liked the man. He’d always been too stuffy and self-important. The condescension practically dripped from his open mouth. “Here’s the culprit now. You had no right, young man! You simply cannot ignore this governing body when considering something as...as brazen as this! We haven’t come this far just to let anarchy casually take over!”
Samuel knew Councilman Gray to be a blowhard, but even taking that into account, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Samuel turned to face him, squarely.
“Shut the hell up, and listen,” he said.
Richard gave a start, as if he’d just been slapped in the face. He sputtered word fragments, looking for the right ones, but Samuel’s candidness seemed to have temporarily robbed him of his abilities.
“You don’t know what’s outside those walls, right now,” Samuel continued. “None of you do. You haven’t seen what it does.” He glanced over at his father. “Have you ever told them?”
Gorman shook his head.
“No. That was always your story to tell. Not mine.”
“What do you mean?” Councilman Spencer asked. “What story?”
Samuel took a deep breath.
“When I was young, before I came to the Spire, I lived with my family in a small settlement, somewhere out there.” He waved a hand at the window. “Whatever this thing is, it looks like a man, but it’s not. It found us. And it slaughtered us. Every one but me. It has...abilities...unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It can create more of itself...clones...copies that drop out of the sky and won’t stop killing until there’s no one...nothing...left. If that weren’t enough, its very presence seems to drive people insane. It turns them into mindless cattle, so that they can’t defend themselves. You have to listen to what I’m saying, and believe that when I fired those cannons, I did so with good reason.”
Samuel turned in a circle, seeking their eyes with his, trying to drive his point home.
“Right now, the only things that are preventing the death of every living thing here are the walls and the canopy shield, and honestly I’m not even sure those will be enough.”
The more he spoke, the more impassioned he became.
“Why do you think, in all the time we’ve been here, that we’ve only made radio contact with one other settlement? The kind of technology that we have at our disposal, the computer systems that until recently we had no idea how to use...those are things that were built by people who never had to worry about things like how to grow enough food or produce enough clean water for themselves. But now, look at us! Our survival hinges on those things, daily! Nothing’s assured. Nothing taken for granted. So what happened, between then and now? How did people like them become people like us? Just where the fuck is everybody?!
“I’ll tell you. They’re dead. They’re all dead. There’s no one left, and that thing,” he pointed outside, “that monster or devil or whatever the hell you’d prefer to call it, is the cause. What other reason could there be? You criticize me for defending you, Councilman Gray? You should be grateful. You should be kissing the dirt on my boots. I just wish that I had bigger guns to point at that fucking thing.”
The room had been stunned into silence. They could only stare and process what he had told them. He honestly hadn’t even really put it together until that moment...his theory as to why there were no other humans around. Maybe it was the magic he’d witnessed in the server room, maybe it was his past, or maybe thoughts had been percolating for some time, and only just now crystallized into something that consciously made sense. But it did make sense, to him. It was the only reason he could fathom that would explain the sorry state of...well, everything.
Councilwoman Warden, silent up to this point, was the first one to speak after his outburst. The silver streaks in her red hair swayed as she looked around the room.
“An entire world? How could such a thing happen? And for what purpose? It’s true; we’ve long entertained the notion that, at one time, there were many more of us, and that the Wastes were fertile and vibrant. If what you say is true...it feels like such a waste of life! And what hope do we, the remaining few, have against such a force of nature?”
“I don’t know,” Samuel said, “but getting everyone inside the Dome is probably a good first step, until we can figure something out. We need to put as much between it and us as we can.”
“What about the cannons?” Councilman Spencer asked. “Why are we not still using them?”
Samuel shook his head. “They’re only good at longer ranges. Once something gets under them, they’re useless.”
Suddenly a wave of pain pounded at his head, and his headache came back at him with full force. He put a hand up to his head and swayed. Everything went out of focus, like he was seeing and hearing the room from under water.
Gorman limped over from around the desk on his crutch, obviously still nursing the knee injury he’d sustained the day of the explosions, and appraised him with great concern.
“Sam,” he said, “tell me what’s going on. You look like hell.”
Samuel didn’t want to tell him. He didn’t want to face it, himself. But there would be no hiding it for long, as his condition degraded. He could feel it now, working in him, like motion sickness but while standing still. The nausea poked at him from the inside like nettles. His condition was getting worse. He didn’t know how much time he had left.
“When I was down in the server room...I...I saw Ronny Baselton disappear. I was there when he...was taken.”
Samuel told them the whole thing. Finding Ronny, desperate as he was to discover what had happened to his wife, trying to touch it, understand it somehow. Witnessing him, blinking out of existence.
“You...you saw him?” Councilwoman Kay said, in awe. “Was there anything that explained why it happens? Anything at all that you can tell us?” She blinked then, and dropped her head. “I’m sorry, I’m being thoughtless. I know he was a friend of yours.”
Samuel nodded. “Yes, he was. It’s okay...I get it. We’re all trying to figure this thing out. As for what I can tell you...I don’t know if I should. I have a theory, but even sharing it with you would put you all in danger. The things Ronny told me about what he found—the same thing that another tech found before him and tried to hide—I think that even knowing about it can
make it spread, no matter how crazy that sounds.”
“I’m not sure I understand,” Councilwoman Warden said. “You’re saying that this thing spreads through...what...thought?”
“Not thought, exactly...more like belief.”
Councilwoman Warden nodded thoughtfully, and gazed out the window-wall.
“Sounds like something Englewood would say,” Councilman Gray growled.
“Don’t ever compare me to that madman,” Samuel said, his eyes flashing. “Ever.”
Gorman’s eyes softened. “Sam...what about you? Are you in danger? Did this thing...infect you?”
Samuel clenched his teeth and looked away. He knew it was stupid, but he felt like he’d let Gorman down. He’d gone and gotten himself into trouble. He felt like he was confessing to his father that he’d broken something valuable.
“I think so,” he said. “I wanted to understand it, just like Ronny did. I didn’t see the file in the computers, but I didn’t need to; it was enough to hear it from Ronny’s mouth, when he was being taken. It opened my head up and got inside, and now I don’t know how much longer I have. I’m...I’m kind of surprised that it hasn’t happened already.”
Gorman just looked at him, his distress evident, and Samuel could see his father’s eyes welling up. The older man enveloped Samuel in his arms and hugged him tightly, his body shuddering silently as he mourned.
Samuel had never had a child of his own. It was something that he always thought would happen, eventually, but the world had kept rushing by too quickly for him to stop and concentrate on getting around to it. Gorman had tried to explain it to him when he was younger, what it was like to care for another so completely that you would sacrifice everything you had to keep them safe. Samuel could only guess as to the level of pain his father was feeling for him, knowing now that there was no escape for his boy.
He couldn’t help but wonder which of their situations was worse. He hoped it had been worth it for Gorman, being a father...and he wished that he’d been able to stop the tornado of the world long enough to find it out for himself.
Their embrace was interrupted by a gasp.
Councilwoman Warden was looking out the window at the shantytown below, with a hand to her mouth. They all rushed to the window.
“Elizabeth?” Gorman said, his grief momentarily forgotten. “What’s—”
Looking down, Samuel could see the great gate, down and to the left. A group of people were gathered there. Among them were the diminutive forms of Kelly Prince, Ethan Tramble, and Nicole Mathers. Samuel was reminded of what he’d asked of Kelly...to protect the front gate in case Tristan tried to get it open and let the monster in.
It appeared as though Kelly had been successful in recruiting some help. Ten others stood with them, men and woman, young and old. They had arranged themselves around a small control panel to the right of the main gate and were facing outward, obviously guarding it, brandishing makeshift weapons...mostly metal tools and wooden clubs. He had to give it to Kelly Prince; she always came through.
Then, movement caught his eye from the right, to the north. Shadows were darting in and out of view, under concealment provided behind the shacks and the habmods. They were moving cautiously, heading toward Kelly’s small group like a swarm of ants. In front, creeping ahead and leading them on through the obfuscating maze of structures, was a man. From this distance, Samuel couldn’t see his face, but he would recognize that golden hair and those flowing robes anywhere.
Samuel had guessed right. Tristan’s flock had gathered, and now he was leading them to the gate. Their numbers dwarfed Kelly’s pitiful group, and what was worse it was clear that, although Samuel could see them from his elevated position, Kelly could not. The ones guarding the gate seemed vulnerably oblivious to Tristan’s stealthy approach. If they didn’t get help, they’d be easily overwhelmed.
“I meant to tell you earlier,” Samuel said, cursing himself for not being faster. “Tristan’s free. His people got him out. I have to get down there.”
“But,” Councilman Gray stammered, “but...there’s so many of them! And it looks like they have weapons as well! What can you possibly do?”
“No matter,” Gorman said firmly, silencing the panicking Councilman. “We will come also, of course.” Seeing Samuel’s growing protest, he raised a hand and cut it off. “No, you can’t keep us from this. Our oath is to protect this place, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit up here, useless, and watch it be torn down. I assume that we all share the same sentiment?” He looked at the other Council members, and by his tone, Samuel could tell that he wasn’t really asking.
Councilman Spencer, as well as Councilwomen Warden and Kay, nodded immediately. Councilman Gray looked between the encroaching zealots outside and then back to his associates, and then miserably bobbed his head.
“Then let’s go,” Gorman said. “On the way, we’ll get anyone we can to come with us.”
They turned and headed to the door, father and son in the lead. Samuel fished out his hand radio to warn Kelly of the danger headed her way when, before he was able to transmit, Councilwoman Warden gave out a scream that made them all stop short and jerk their heads up. So intent were they in their haste, that they didn’t see the man until they almost ran into him.
Henry Goodwin was standing in the doorway.
Henry’s appearance was arresting, to put it mildly. Bright splotches of red stood out in grim contrast to his gray coveralls, most of it concentrated on his torso, but there were also other, smaller spatters on his arms, legs, and worst of all, his face. There was just so much of it. The smell alone made Samuel’s stomach turn...the odor was unpleasantly coppery and pungent.
“Henry...?” Samuel ventured, confused and repulsed.
The technician didn’t respond. He just stood there, his usually good-natured face emotionless...blocking the door. In one hand he held a small, black device with a red button under the thumb. There was a wire that led out the bottom of the device, which Samuel now recognized to be a trigger. The man’s other hand then raised to the front zipper of his coveralls, over which the wire led, and he slowly unzipped the bloody garment to his waist. When Samuel saw what Henry was revealing, he felt like he might be sick.
Henry had fashioned a carrying harness, and strapped it to his bare skin inside his clothing. There were many loops that were arranged over the front in rows, and in each one of those was a pale yellow brick with a small black rod sticking out of it. Each rod displayed a blinking green light, and had a gleaming metal terminal on the outward side. The thicker wire that led out of the trigger split into many thinner branches, each one leading and pinned to a terminal with a small metal clamp.
Samuel simply couldn’t process what he was seeing.
Henry had turned himself into a human bomb.
* * *
Chapter 40 – Samuel
“Henry...Hank...not you. It can’t be you. It can’t be you.”
Henry looked at him, and Samuel didn’t recognize his eyes. They were empty...hollow. The man’s body and face resembled the man Samuel had come to know and trust, the man he’d worked beside for years, but when he regarded him now...when he looked inside...he saw nothing familiar. It was like an identical twin effect, when one sibling looks just like the other in all superficial ways, except when one looked closer...saw the little deviations...not big enough to make them look unlike one another but not small enough to hide the fact that they were a different person altogether.
“Sorry, Samuel,” Henry said. “I can’t be the guy you knew, before. I think I’m going to miss him, though. If things had been different, maybe you and I could’ve really been friends.”
The other Council members were backing away; only Samuel and his father stood their ground. Samuel put a hand up behind him to try to stop them from allowing themselves to be cornered further, but either they didn’t understand his gesture, or they didn’t agree with him.
The room wasn’t very big, and Gorman�
�s lack of fixtures gave them little to retreat to. The only way out was through the door...through Henry. Why couldn’t they see that?
Probably because common sense doesn’t tell us to run toward explosives.
“Henry...we are friends,” Samuel told him, swinging his hand forward in a placating gesture. “Whatever Tristan’s told you to do, you don’t have to. You can make your own choice about this.”
“Oh, I have,” he said. His voice was even, like he and Samuel were having a conversation over lunch. “That’s why I’m here. I can make my own decisions, you know...it’s not like Tristan’s controlling my mind or something. I’m simply doing this because he’s right.”
“How can you say that? Henry, I know you! You’re not a murderer!”
He snorted, and pointed to the bomb on his chest.
“Samuel, do I really look like a man you think you know very well?” he asked in disapproval. “And yes, I suppose I am exactly that. A murderer, I mean. Aiden found that out just a little while ago.” He indicated his bloody coveralls. “Speaking of...sorry for my appearance. I was hoping to avoid a mess, but I’ve been a little...unlucky.”
He noted Samuel’s horror.
“Yeah, I know, I’m disappointed, too.”
“All those people,” Samuel breathed. “How could you do it?”
He shrugged. “Oh come on, now. You’ve done it, too. I think you’d agree that taking a life is easier than everyone thinks it is, especially when you’ve got a good reason. When Cameron came down off that wall, you can’t tell me that you agonized over it. He was an asshole. You’re glad he’s dead, just like I am. And me? I’ve got a good reason for doing what I’ve done...what I’m about to do.”
“Surely,” Gorman said, beside him, “you can’t care so little about your own life that you’d throw it away like this? Even if your reason is good enough, for you, to take our lives...how can you throw yours away so easily?”
Henry regarded him. “Because, like I said, my Prophet is right. Yeah, I can see the looks on your faces. ‘He’s a fanatic like all the rest!’ I don’t want you to think that I’m so easily prone to ideological swings. I’m a numbers guy. And when I look around me, the world just doesn’t add up. There’s something wrong. Haven’t you felt it? We’re not supposed to be here.”
The Footsteps of Cain Page 29
