by Roman Shepp
“What made you leave the world?”
“The daily grind. A lot of us had the same feelings about the direction of the world. It seemed so silly to work so much for so little, and then barely have any time to nourish our souls. There were points when I would look at the world and just laugh, but it didn't seem as though anyone was laughing with me. I knew there had to be another way. As soon as I heard about the community, I knew I had to go there. I told myself I would go for only one weekend, but after a day there I was hooked. I never had felt so peaceful before. I left everything behind. Even my husband.”
“Your husband?” Saeed said, surprised.
“Yes. It wasn't easy, but I had to do it for the sake of my soul. I tried so hard to make him see the way the world should be, but he just couldn't shake the brainwashing of the world. I had to leave him. He was angry. He tried to get me to come back, but I could not. Thankfully, I had my new family, and Arthur.”
“You speak of him with fondness.”
“He was a great man. A visionary. It is terrible what Hugo did to him.” As she said this she cowered a little.
“There always were times when I wished I could escape the world,” Saeed admitted. “I would have loved to have spent more time with my family.”
“Perhaps if you had known of us you would have come to live with us as well.”
“Perhaps,” Saeed said.
“Why does Belinda not speak as often as you?” he asked.
Belinda looked at the ground and nodded slightly. “She suffered some trauma when she was younger. You see, Arthur wanted everyone to be free and make their own decisions. He thought that one of the problems with the world was that nobody ever had a choice about where they lived. They were thrust into society and taught to live that way because there was no alternative, but he wanted everyone to come to the commune by choice, even those who were born there. So, when they were old enough people were encouraged to explore the city and experience the life that those in the commune had shunned.”
“And if they decided that they wanted to leave?”
“That would be their choice, of course. But most of them chose to come back. Some though, like Belinda, found something else in the city, something they thought was worth staying for.”
“What was that?”
“Love,” Martha said simply. Belinda breathed in deeply. Saeed saw that she trembled.
“She doesn't like to be reminded of it. She met a guy in the city. All of us were disappointed when she said she wanted to see where it went, but we hardly could complain as we always had taught her that love was the most important thing in the world. We tried to get her to bring him back to the commune, but she said it would take time. He was open to the idea but hadn't yet developed the capacity to break free of the ways of the world. Belinda lasted a few months before he broke her heart. It was a tragic thing.
“I don't want to go into too many details, but it was a humiliating thing involving another woman. The man was a trickster and played Belinda for a fool. I still remember the day she came running back. She'd lost all the money she had to this man. The worst thing was she still loved him and couldn't comprehend the pain. We've all been there, but she realized how alone she was in the city, even though she was surrounded by thousands of people. Ever since then she's found it difficult to trust. It's a sad story, but unfortunately, it's not unusual.”
“I'm sorry to hear that,” Saeed said to Belinda. Her head jerked in acknowledgment of the comment.
“The same thing is happening to the community now. They just can't see it. Hugo has blinded them to what matters in the world. Eventually, they'll see he has been conning them and they all will have broken hearts, but until then they all think they love him.”
“Where did he come from, and how did he manage to get such a hold on the community so quickly?”
“It was a while ago now. He came with some new recruits. He was a strong man, very diligent, and threw himself into his new way of life. There was no task too big or small for him to help with, and he quickly ingratiated himself with everyone. Arthur saw a lot of himself in Hugo. He'd never had a son, you see, and always wanted someone he could teach to take his place when he eventually died. Perhaps if he had held on for more years Arthur could have tempered Hugo's ambitious streak.
“There was always something about him I didn't like. Yet, I could not put my finger on it until after Arthur died. By that point Hugo was like Superman to everyone. He was the person who told them to move forward and be the people Arthur wanted them to be, but they couldn't see he was changing the fundamental beliefs of the community. The rest of us were too busy mourning Arthur to push back against the control he was seizing. So, by the time he had taken over there was nothing we could do. I tried to tell him that he was mistaken in what he was doing, but he was a cruel man. He told me to my face that the community was outdated, and we shouldn't feel beholden to rules that were laid down decades ago. I knew then that we had no choice but to leave.”
“It must have been very traumatic for you. I'm surprised Belinda left, though.”
“She was...very close to the man who helped us leave. Losing him has been another blow to her. Sometimes it seems as though she is plagued by bad luck.”
“I know how she feels. I lost my family. There were some nasty people who thought I had something to do with what happened to the country. Well, I'm not sure if they really believed that or not. They probably just were using it as an excuse to attack me. It all went crazy and my wife and my daughter were killed.”
Saying it so starkly like that seemed to betray the sheer gravity of it all. It seemed so simple to say that they had been killed, when really, they had been ripped away from the fabric of reality. They had been torn from his heart and cast into an abyss.
“We still can find peace, somewhere,” Martha said.
“That was something Arthur taught us. The true community never was in the place we lived, it was in our hearts. That was why people were allowed to leave. The community and the teachings always would be a part of them. There is always a way back,” she said. Saeed hoped she was right.
On the journey through the forest, the four of them found some berries to eat. Since they had lived in the forest for a long time, Martha and Belinda were experts at knowing what was safe to eat and what wasn't. While they were eating, Saeed put the map away for a little while, hoping that it would make more sense after a break from looking at it. In time, they heard a noise and saw people approaching. There were five of them, burly men and women who looked fierce. Martha and Belinda instantly looked afraid of them, as was Saeed, but he managed to hide it a little better.
“Hello, would you like to share some food?” Saeed said, trying to channel Tony. That man had a knack for defusing tense situations. The lead man walked forward and picked a few berries. They talked for a little while, and Saeed told them they were trying to find somewhere safe.
“Oh, you should come with us. We know just the place,” the lead man said.
“Really?” Saeed asked.
“Yeah, it's filled with lovely people, and there's plenty of food and shelter for you all. We've actually been sent out to try finding people to join us. We know there are a lot of people wandering around the woods and we want to make sure they have the best chance for survival.”
The people seemed genuine, and the thought of being part of a larger, safe group was appealing. However, before Saeed could give them an answer the man spoke again. “Of course, if you want to stay out here in the wild and give yourself over to the elements, that's something else entirely, but we couldn't really in good conscience let you do that. I really think you should come back with us and at least get some decent food in you.”
Saeed watched as the people standing behind him bristled. There was something about the way he spoke that told Saeed he and the others did not have a choice. He glanced back at Martha and Belinda, and Tara. Part of him wanted to fight, but if he did he knew they would be le
ft without anyone to protect them. Saeed inclined his head and smiled, trying to pretend as though nothing was amiss.
“Yes, that sounds wonderful. We'd love to have some help,” he said, but promised himself that he would be wary.
The others led them through the forest for a little while until the trees opened up. From the way Martha and Belinda gasped he knew it was where they lived. They had walked right into the middle of a trap. Inwardly, Saeed groaned, for this was the place they had wanted to avoid. There was no quick route to escape either.
“Hugo, Matthias, we found some more wanderers,” the lead man said as he walked up to the middle of the camp, where two men were sitting.
The one called Hugo was a wiry man, with pale skin and an oily smile. The other man was tall and powerful, with thick blonde hair and a hardened scowl. Upon seeing Hugo again, Martha and Belinda screamed and ran toward him, scratching and clawing at him. Matthias hauled them off and threw them to the ground, quickly barking orders for the others to take them away. Tara was about to speak, but Saeed placed a hand on her shoulder, indicating for her to be silent. Hugo stepped down into the sunlight, with his hands clasped behind his back.
“I was not expecting to see them so soon. I'm sure they told you plenty about me,” he said.
“You came up in conversation.”
“Yes, well, they were very shaken when Arthur died. What we promote here is peace and love. What is your name?”
“Saeed, and this is Tara.”
“It's lovely to meet you, Saeed and Tara. You are welcome here. I can sense the two of you are in pain. There is much pain in the world,” he said, shaking his head. “I hope that here you will find a welcoming community filled with people who want to help you be the best people you can be.”
At this a number of other people came up to welcome the newcomers. They gathered around them and all offered to heal them.
“We preach tolerance and kindness here,” Hugo said. “There's too much hatred in the world. Be one with us,” he said.
Being surrounded by so many people who spoke of kindness and love was seductive and tempting. If Saeed hadn't already heard the truth from Martha and Belinda, he may well have fallen for Hugo's silver words. As it was he wore a false smile, telling himself he would stay and find out what's going on. Maybe he could stop Hugo's plan. Tara looked unsure and gripped his hand tightly.
“It's okay, Tara. You're with me. You're safe,” he said.
Chapter Eighteen
“Try to calm down. You're safe, Quentin. You're safe. I want to help you. My name is Tony. I'm here to help,” Tony said.
Quentin thrashed about, trying to free himself from the restraints. Tony's heart was in his throat. If Quentin managed to escape, Tony was as good as dead. Sweat streamed down Quentin's body and face as he tried his hardest to break free, but Tony had tied the ropes expertly and Quentin was trapped. While Quentin was writhing in anguish, Groot was barking loudly as well. Their sounds echoed through the empty bunker, so loud that Tony wouldn't have been able to hear if anyone was trying to knock on the door. Part of him wondered if his friends would try coming back for him, but he had made his decision. They would have to find their own way in life. He had to try helping this man, and then, in time, maybe he would see the others again.
“Quentin, please stop. I didn't want to tie you up, but I knew I had to do it. I want to talk to you. Just talk. That's it. I don't want to punish you. I don't want to judge or condemn you. All I want is to learn about what happened to you, and maybe help you. I can tell that you're troubled, Quentin, and I want to help.”
Tony spoke evenly and calmly, trying to keep any hint of judgment out of his voice. This angry man had killed countless people, but Tony had to try remaining focused. It would take a long time to get through to him, but Tony wasn't going to give up. He continued speaking in a reasonable, rational tone, even as Quentin was thrashing against the floor. Tony talked about his own experiences, his own dreams, as well as asking Quentin questions. For a long time, Quentin didn't answer. Tony wondered if he ever was going to get through to the man. He started thinking this was a mistake, that he never should have tried this in the first place. Quentin was a madman, and Tony had locked himself in with him. There was no escape.
“Please, Quentin. Just tell me what you want. Why are you doing all this? What happened to you?”
“How do you know my name?” Quentin said through heaving breaths. His throat was raw, but he was speaking. He had stopped fighting the restraints as well, evidently having given up trying to break free.
“You spoke it,” Tony said. “I'm Tony. Are you hungry?” Quentin didn't say anything. Tony went away and gathered some food and water, offering it to him. Quentin looked at it warily. He couldn't eat with his hands tied up, so Tony had to feed him. It was a risk. The man easily could snap at his fingers.
“Promise you won't bite me?” Tony said. Was that a smile he saw on Quentin's face? He tried to stop his hand from shaking as he lifted the spoon toward Quentin's mouth. Quentin ate hungrily, and there was no danger to Tony. At least not for the moment.
“I want to know more about you, Quentin. What happened to your face?”
Tony's question was met with silence. “I've always thought that masks actually are a way for people to show their true selves. Almost like if we cover up the way people see us, we can let the true aspects of our personality shine through. like, there's no consequence. If nobody knows who we are, then we don't have to worry about them judging us. It means you can do things without having to worry. I don't know about you, but I like superheroes a lot and most of them wear masks. Is that why you wear a mask? Because you're a hero?”
“There are no such things as heroes,” Quentin said.
“Maybe that's true. I've certainly seen a lot to make me doubt, but in the end, I think people are good. They want the best for others. It's easy to forget that, with all that's going on. Yet, deep down I like to think people are decent. Sometimes they just lose their way. All they need is one person to show them the way back.”
“Carol used to say that.”
“Carol?”
By the look on Quentin's face he immediately regretted mentioning that name. “Nobody.”
“I don't think that's true. I think she's somebody. Was she your mother? Your wife? What happened to her, Quentin?”
“The same thing that happens to everyone. She died. Because of others. They couldn't save her. They were too busy fighting among themselves. They brought the place down in fire and ash and left her alone. I couldn't do anything. I couldn't do anything,” he said, his powerful body shaking as tears ran down his face, trickling under the mask. Tony stayed quiet for a few moments.
“I'm sorry for your loss,” he said.
“That's not going to bring her back. Nothing is. The world forgot about us. There are no heroes. There's only death. People need to realize that. They go through the world blindly, thinking everything is going to be alright, but it's not. Those you trust betray you. Those you love die.”
“Is that why you killed all those people? Because you wanted to teach them a lesson? Is that why you tried to kill us?”
“I... I wanted to show you that you were wrong. You shouldn't be happy. You all were laughing and smiling. That was wrong. People shouldn't be allowed to smile.”
“We only were smiling because we had suffered so much. You don't know what we've been through, Quentin. We don't deserve to die.”
“Nobody deserves to die, it just happens. I'm only making it quicker. I'm ending the suffering for them.”
“So, you think you're doing everyone a favor?”
“No...I... I'm just being a part of the world. The world needs death. The world is too big. Too many people can't see what really matters. They all say they're going to be there for you, that you mean something, but as soon as you're sent home, you don't mean anything.”
“Sent home? Sent home from where?”
“From the dusty de
sert. From my job. I was told I would be looked after, but after everyone died I was shunned. Carol was the only one who cared. How could I live in the world again? And now I'm here. I can't escape my past. I shouldn't be here. Those other soldiers, they looked at me the same way as my brothers did. Why do we give our lives for a country that doesn't care?”
“I don't know, Quentin, but you must have had a good reason at the time. Maybe you were treated wrongly, but that doesn't mean you have to take it out on innocents.”
“I told you before, THERE ARE NO INNOCENTS,” Quentin yelled with such force that Tony jerked backward. Groot started barking again, and Tony was afraid he wasn't going to get through to the man.
“Okay, maybe they're aren't, but don't you see that this is an impossible quest? If you're always striking out at others, then you're never going to be able to save yourself. Don't you see any hope for yourself?”
“Any hope for me died out a long time ago,” Quentin muttered. “You're a fool if you think there's any such thing as hope.”
“Then I'm a fool. I don't care what you believe, Quentin. I still believe there's a chance for you. I still think you can redeem yourself. There's never a time limit on life or getting better. We always have more time, and we always can find a way back from the darkness. I know it may not seem like it now. Maybe you feel as if you've lost everything and everyone who ever has cared about you, but I'm telling you there's still hope.”
“No. No hope,” Quentin said, shaking his head vehemently.
“No more hope. No more anything!” he roared. “There is no one innocent. I don't know who you are. No. You can't be real. You must be someone. You left me. They left me. Everyone leaves me, just like Carol was left. I left her, and now the same fate has befallen me. It's happening all over again. All this life I am alone. There is nothing left for me. You are nobody. I am alone here. Hearing things. It is happening again. All these voices. Why are they calling to me?”
“Listen to me, Quentin. Focus on my voice,” Tony said, trying to fight against the haunted mind of the raging man.
