by Platt, Sean
Ana didn’t want to admit it, not to Duncan, Michael, Adam, or anyone else, not even to herself, but Duncan was right. The layers of her last two months were horrible — every one — and walking up the church steps and following the address on a paper shred slipped to her in secret by someone who could be seen as an enemy of The State. It was all a bit much.
“I want to know,” she said. “The truth. What was my dad doing before…you know, before he got into trouble.”
“You deserve to know,” Duncan nodded. “Would you like anything first? Sugar bread, or water?”
Ana shook her head, then Duncan started his story.
“Your dad came in here one day, slipped into a pew, and sat for a sermon — as if he’d been coming to church forever, even though he’d never been here before, and I’d not seen him other than as a wave across the street since I stopped working City Watch. Your daddy sat in the back pew, two behind where you were sitting beside Iris tonight. He listened to the entire sermon, then, when it was over, he didn’t want to leave. He stayed in his pew for several minutes until I was finished shaking hands, then when I approached him, he asked if we could speak, said he wanted to clear his guilty conscience.”
“Why?” Ana raised her eyebrows. “What did he do?”
“He said he couldn’t stand the horrible things he’d been forced to do in the law’s name. Your daddy said he wasn’t sure if there was a God, but respected that I did, then said it seemed hard to swallow, seeing as how there was so much sickness in the world, both in and outside The Wall. Your dad said that if there was a God, he didn’t want Him thinking he enjoyed doing what he had to do, and wanted a pardon if possible, at least until he could figure out a way not to do it any longer.”
Ana said, “And you gave him a way?”
“That I did.” Duncan smiled, then gestured around the room. “These fine folks, and many more who aren’t with us tonight, look to me. They trust I’ll guide them right, make the right decisions. I’m a man of faith, acting on my instincts and His guidance. I trusted your father the second I saw him, Anastasia, so I saw no reason to wait.”
Ana leaned forward, starving for the rest. “Wait for what?”
“I told him we were part of The Underground, and I told him in less time than it takes me to get my water hot. And your daddy never said a word. Not even when they tried to beat it out of his broken body.”
Duncan paused, then tugged on his right ear and stroked the bottom of his chin, like he had a full beard instead of just two day’s worth of stubble, then he looked at Ana like he was about to say something she’d never forget.
“Your daddy, Anastasia, he was a good man who did great things, things you won’t know about yet and maybe never will.” He shook his head without moving his eyes. “There are more City 6 citizens owing their lives to your old man than you can count, not that he was ever counting at all.”
Duncan grinned, probably happy Ana wasn’t arguing her father’s merit, then continued. “Not only did your father never out us, he acted as a sort of double agent, feeding us information we couldn’t get otherwise. Jonah,” Duncan cleared his throat, “your daddy, kept the candle burning, making sure we stayed alive and that the movement kept moving.”
Ana nodded her head, wanting to believe the man who had taught her to think and love, and to never cross a line once drawn, no matter how thick the mud at your ankles; the man who read her stories from books that no longer existed, and promised to never tell her a lie — even if it was the only thing that gave him breath, was the same man whose honor Duncan was protecting. If what Duncan was saying was true, then of course The State wanted him outside The Wall.
It didn’t matter. Even if Duncan’s version of her father was the same man who had raised her, that man had murdered her mother. Ana still saw her father, standing over her dead mother, every night she closed her eyes.
As an eyewitness, she had said almost nothing in the trial until she sat in the box and answered every question, true to her recollection, as the prosecution rattled them off, each a bullet tearing into her body and leaving its shrapnel in the rest of her life.
“Why did he kill my mother?” Ana said, chewing her lip to not lose a tear.
“He didn’t.” Duncan shook his head, his eyes now larger and somehow sadder. “I told you that. You didn’t mean to tell a lie, Anastasia, but you did. Your brain lied to you. Not your fault, since I’d bet my Bible and every verse in it that The City implanted a false memory, or several, inside that noggin of yours.” The pastor tapped the tip of his head as Ana collected her breath from the lie that had stolen it.
“No,” she shook her head. “That’s not possible. No one can do that.”
Duncan smiled, though there was no humor in his lips. “Sorry, Sweetie, but The City does that sorta shit all the time. Trust me.”
Ana would have found it impossible to see herself skating the edge of a laugh a minute before, but something in the way Duncan said the word shit split her serious face into a small smile. She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s the chips they put inside us when we’re born,” Duncan said. “There’s two of ’em, at least two that we know of. I personally think there’s three. The tracker and ID chip everyone knows about, but then there’s a second chip for sure. Some folks seem to know about it and some, maybe even most, don’t. And almost all those who do have no idea what it’s for.”
“What does the second one do?”
“Sends a signal to your brain. That signal can modify your perception of reality, and thus, your behavior.”
Ana wanted away from the horror. She swallowed, then stood from the tattered chair, wanting to leave, thank Duncan for his time, and get back to Adam and the atrocity of the truths she had started to question.
The weight of her new world was too heavy to hold, though. Ana collapsed back to the chair. “That can’t be true,” she barely managed to whisper, shaking her head. “It would change everything.”
Duncan pulled her hands into his. “It’s true, Anastasia, and everything’s been changed for a while.”
There was a boom from a door in the hall behind them. Ana turned and saw Liam standing there.
“It’s all true,” he said. “Every fucking word.”
Ana kept her eyes on Liam as he passed their chairs, then crossed to the far side of the room, where he bent to his knees and whispered something into Iris’s ear. She laughed, then threw her arms around his shoulders. He hugged her, tousled her hair, then stood, grabbed a piece of sweetened bread, and ambled back toward Ana and Duncan.
“What are you doing here?” Ana said, though she was reasonably certain she knew.
“Making a difference,” he said, winking. “Not that you care.” Liam crouched beside her, then put his hand on her chair and said, “Your dad was a good man. They set him up, and you helped make sure everything went according to plan.”
“Why would they want to do that?” Ana asked. “Because they found out he was a double agent?”
Duncan and Liam opened their mouths in unison, but neither managed to say a word before the deafening bray from City Watch megaphones blared from upstairs, then drifted down into the basement with an icy echo.
“No one move!” the voice repeated. “All parishioners must be cleared for Appraisal.”
A few of the parishioners who had stayed to pray after the service and a few of the church’s staff still upstairs began to scream as heavy boots began to thunder on the hardwood floors above and echoed through the basement.
Duncan leaped from his chair, a firm order out of his mouth. “Everyone stay put!” he yelled. “We’re only having coffee and cake, mingling with Jesus in the sunset of the sermon.”
He grabbed Ana by one arm and Liam by the other, then led them both toward a door on the far side of the basement. The sound of chaos settled upstairs. In its place was a slowly collapsing quiet, like a cold blanket smothering hope above.
Duncan opened the door
to a storage area, then shoved Liam and Ana inside and loudly whispered. “Hide in the floor, and stay in there no matter what; got it?”
Ana and Liam nodded as they retreated into the dark room stacked with chairs, tables, and dusty boxes that looked as if they hadn’t been touched in decades.
“What about you?” she said.
Duncan smiled. “I’ll be fine. I still have a few friends on the force.”
The door closed, and Ana turned to Liam. He moved a short stack of boxes to the side, then lifted a thick floorboard beneath them. He turned from the crawl space to Ana, then gestured for her to come closer. She swallowed, then stepped nervously toward the lifted board as she heard the sound of Watchers storming the basement.
She stared into the crawl space; it would hold them both, but only barely.
“It’s now or we’re both dead,” Liam hissed, holding out his hand.
Ana took it, letting him help her down into the crawl space. Liam slithered in, squirming behind her, fixing the floorboard into place as hell melted the atmosphere on the other side of the door. A tiny, involuntary shriek fell from Ana and Liam’s sweaty hand slapped her shivering lips to make sure it didn’t happen again.
“Shhhhhh…” he soothed. “They’ll hear us.”
They huddled in icy terror as The Watchers came downstairs and interrogated Duncan. Ana listened as The Watchers told how Liam had escaped custody and was last seen entering the church.
“I know the boy,” Duncan said. Ana imagined him shaking his head. “He’s a poor lost soul, for sure. But I’ve certainly not seen him today.”
As one Watcher questioned Duncan, Ana and Liam heard a second one walking toward the storage room. Liam’s hand tightened on Ana’s mouth. The door to the storage room creaked open.
Light spilled into the darkness, giving them a splintered picture view up through the floor.
“Find anything?” said The Watcher beside Duncan.
The second Watcher was looking around the storage room, footsteps clopping on the floor above them as he scanned the darkness. He turned over his shoulder and called, “Not yet,” then added, “Get the ID scans started. I’ll be out in a minute.”
The next three minutes rang with the scanners’ light shrill as data chips were read and those still in the basement were cleared to leave, one by one.
“Everyone is free to go but you three,” The Watcher farthest from them said.
Ana listened to the footsteps climbing the stairs. She wondered which three were held behind.
“No,” a woman said. “We didn’t do anything.”
“Please, let them go,” Duncan said. “I’ll stay and answer any questions you have.”
“Please, Mr. Watcher,” the voice of the young girl, Iris, pleaded.
Oh God, they’re holding the little girl behind! Why?
Ana felt Liam tighten his grip around her mouth as the footsteps of the closest Watcher stopped right over the false floorboard. Her heart stopped in her chest, waiting for the officer to recognize the difference in sound from one part of the floor to the other before ripping it open and flashing his helmet’s lights down on them.
They were about to be arrested. She’d done nothing wrong, yet was now hiding under the floor with a known fugitive.
They would take her in for sure. Then what? With a bigger what for Adam.
The silence was killing her as The Watcher stood in place for an eternity.
He’s toying with us. He knows we’re here. He’s got to. Why else is he just standing in a dark room?
Then The Watcher walked out of the storage room, leaving the door wide open behind him.
Ana let out a deep breath, and her heart seemed to start toward its normal beat.
The Watcher joined his partner in the room for a moment and then went up the stairs.
Ana couldn’t see anyone from the angle she was at. But she could hear every movement and word.
The first sound she heard was the familiar sound of the shock stick charging with a loud hum. While the shock sticks delivered a painful surge on contact, they could also fire a lethal blast that could tear through a person’s body, killing in an instant.
Then she heard The Watcher’s voice crackle through his helmet’s speaker, “I’ll ask you once,” he said. “Where’s Liam?” After a moment’s pause, he added, “You’ll be sorry if you lie.”
Apparently Thou Shalt Not Lie didn’t apply to protecting your flock.
Duncan said, “I don’t know.”
Without warning, The Watcher fired a blast of energy that thundered through the basement, followed by Duncan’s and Iris’s screams.
“Why?” Duncan screamed, his voice torn by anguish.
The only voice Ana couldn’t hear crying was the woman, whom The Watcher must’ve murdered.
Tears began to stream down Ana’s face, and she felt her whole body shaking.
She couldn’t believe what was happening. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.
“Tell us,” The Watcher said, with zero emotion in his warble.
“I swear, I don’t know,” Duncan said. “I’ve seen him, lots. He comes in here, but I haven’t seen him today.”
The second Watcher returned from upstairs, saying, “We have three independent confirmations. The boy was down here before we arrived.”
The other Watcher asked, “Is that true?”
Duncan said, “No, sir.”
“I’m going to ask you one more time. If you lie, I shoot the child.”
Iris screamed, and suddenly the sound of tiny footsteps raced across the floor above Ana.
Iris ran into the storage room, just above them, crying as she ran.
Ana pulled away from Liam, shoving him back, and reached up for the floorboard, to get to the girl before The Watcher.
Ana looked up, seeing the girl’s eyes look down at the floor. She saw them hiding, knew they were there. She cried out something, but her cry was cut short by the blast of the shock stick, which reverberated through the room.
The girl, or what was left of her, hit the ground with a sickening thud, and blood poured through the thin slits in the floor.
Ana screamed.
The Watcher stomped across the floor and immediately ripped the false floorboard away, exposing her and Liam. He grabbed Ana by the hair and yanked her up while aiming his shock stick at Liam. “Up! Now!”
Ana screamed as she was dragged from the hole. She glanced down and immediately regretted it when she saw Iris’s body with a giant, charred hole eaten into her back. Ana nearly vomited and was shoved forward, snapping her attention back to the men with weapons. A third Watcher stormed into the storage room and forced Liam out, gathering them in the room that everyone had been chatting and eating in just moments ago.
“Hands up!” the first Watcher ordered. Two aimed guns, while a third held his shock stick, poised to deliver pain or death.
Ana raised her shaking hands, unable to stop crying over the murder of the little girl.
Liam raised his hands slowly, then said, “Easy, guys. We can work this out. You want The Underground, and I’m not Underground. But I can take you there, and we won’t even have to get in a van. We’re close. Real close.” He paused and said, “The leader’s here.”
Liam pointed his finger outward and aimed it at Duncan. “Right there,” he said.
Two of the three Watchers spun toward Duncan, weapons ready. The closest, and the one with the best shot, stayed trained on Liam.
Duncan said, “OK, OK, you got me. I’ll confess everything, but first, I need to get your word on something.”
“What is it?” one of The Watchers said.
“I need you to take off your helmet and look me in the eye.”
All three Watchers were looking at Duncan, waiting for him to make his request.
That’s when Ana realized it was all a ploy, maybe even one Liam and Duncan had coordinated in advance, just in case of such a situation.
Unwatched, L
iam pulled his a pistol from behind his back — an antique from back before The Walling — and squeezed the trigger twice, both shots tearing through the black material that covered The Watchers’ necks, sending them to the ground, writhing in pain.
Liam shoved his elbow into Ana, sending her flat on her ass before turning to fire two shots at the third Watcher as Duncan grabbed one of The Watchers’ sticks and bashed it into one of the wounded men’s helmets, cracking the glass. He sent an electric shock into the man’s helmet, causing his whole body to shake and burn. Liam fired two more shots into the glass masks of the downed men, killing them, too.
Ana stumbled to her feet and raised her head to Liam, shocked. Duncan was blinking slowly, without surprise. “Get out of here, NOW!”
Liam nodded, a silent confirmation, then pulled Ana’s hand and dragged her past Duncan and up the stairs.
Just as they hit the top stair, they heard footsteps thundering toward them — more Watchers.
Liam shoved Ana down the stairs just as bullets split the door behind them.
Liam followed her, tumbling down to the cold basement floor as bullets blasted the stairwell above them.
“What are we supposed to do now?” Ana cried out.
“Just wait,” Liam said, holding up a finger as if waiting on something.
Ana wasn’t sure whether Liam knew what would happen or simply had faith that something would.
Gunfire erupted upstairs, not as loud as The Watchers’ weapons, but faster.
Liam laughed, “Fuck yeah!” and headed back upstairs, carefully, his gun held out in front of him.
Red Beard, the guy from the bar who had slipped her the message on the street, was suddenly in the doorway, holding a weird-looking gun that Ana had never seen before. It looked like a shortened rifle, and antique.
His eyes were all business, no celebration of the three Watchers lying dead on the ground behind him.
“What’s the score downstairs?” Red Beard asked.
“Three Watchers dead. But they killed Rose and Iris. Duncan’s all alone downstairs now.”
