Beyond These Walls (Book 6): Three Days

by Robertson, Michael

  The man pushing Olga brought her to a halt directly in front of an empty cage. The woman pushing Matilda did the same.

  They loosened the leather strap on Olga’s brow. She rolled her head to work some of the cramps from her neck. When they released the straps across her upper body, she fully filled her lungs for the first time in hours. They finally freed her legs. Olga moved forward with wobbly steps and entered the cage.

  The man who’d pushed Olga’s trolley sneered at her. Crash! He slammed her cage door shut. No way out from the inside; even opening it from the outside required a key.

  Matilda looked across at Olga as if she expected something. But what could she say? They were done for. At least after this evening, after the ceremony and however long the man wanted them for, they could move on. Anything had to be better than nearly drowning for hours at a time.

  The girl with the brown hair and broken leg grew giddy and hopped on the spot. The double doors at the end of the room opened. “Praise be to Grandfather Jacks.”

  Slim and over six feet tall, Grandfather Jacks wore a brown leather outback hat and walked with a slight stoop. Maybe as a young man he’d wanted to hide his height. Maybe he’d been bullied as a kid and didn’t even realise he still tried to diminish his stature.

  A gaggle of young boys from about eight to twelve years old gathered around him. Many of them had deep cuts and scars around their necks. A whip hung from Grandfather Jacks’ belt, the end splayed, metal laced through the separate strips. No wonder the kids looked the way they did. No wonder Hawk was so angry.

  Where Grandfather Jacks’ eyes sparkled, his boys—his angels—wore the glassy stare of trauma.

  “Olga,” Matilda said, “we’ll get out of this.”

  No more than fifteen feet separating Olga and Grandfather Jacks, Olga said, “Praise be to Grandfather Jacks. May he and the High Father look down on me and bestow me with his blessings.”

  Where glee had lit up Grandfather Jacks’ features, he now positively radiated. A wide grin filled with wonky teeth stretching across his scraggly face. Striding straight up to Olga, he leaned against the bars while his angels held back. His breaths quickened to heavy pants as he looked her up and down, her sodden clothes leaving little to the imagination. “I like them small.”

  Olga ran her hands over her hips. “Small yet perfectly formed.”

  “Quite.”

  “I can’t wait for tonight.”

  A smile so broad it damn near split the man’s face in two. Grandfather Jacks scratched his grey stubble and continued to hold his chin while he nodded. “Very good,” he said, looking from left to right along the cages. “I’d say all four of them are ready. Take them to my room now!”

  Chapter 34

  About halfway through the night, William had started shivering from lying on the steel rock, and he hadn’t stopped since. His teeth chattering, he struggled to control the volume of his voice because of his quivering form. “It’s a good job we didn’t get left up here in the middle of winter. I’m not sure I would have survived.” As he’d done most of the night—although less so over the past few hours as the sun rose, spreading at least the idea of warmth through him if not the reality—he rubbed his upper body to keep his circulation going.

  Rolling over onto his front, William fished the map from his back pocket. It remained in the plastic sleeve, which had been effective at keeping it mostly dry. He unfolded it and spread it out on the grey rock. He pointed first to the depiction of Grandfather Jacks’ community and then pointed off into the distance. “We need to head that way.” Tugging on Max’s leg to get the boy to crouch down beside him, he said, “How much longer do we have to wait?”

  Max stood up again and looked back. Being invisible to the diseased afforded him that luxury. When he dropped back down, he said, “The bulk of the swarm can possibly still see us, but they are getting farther away.”

  “And at least they’re going away from Grandfather Jacks’ community,” Cyrus said.

  Max’s demeanour had softened towards the boy. Cyrus might not be a fighter, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have value. He nodded. “It means the first bit’s going to be the hardest, but once we’re far enough away, we’ll be able to put more and more distance between us and them.”

  “Do you think we can get away now?” William said.

  Max frowned and raised his head. It took all William had to not sit up and look too. But if one of the creatures close by saw him, it could put them back by hours. Max got to his feet again and spun one hundred and eighty degrees to face where they needed to go before hunching down. “It won’t be easy.”

  “What part of this process has been easy?”

  “Fair enough.” Lumps of steel littered the landscape. About fifty feet away sat a rock comparable in size to the one they lay on. Max pointed at it. “We should make that our first target. I think getting to that will be our biggest challenge.” The swarm might have moved on, but there were still diseased scattered throughout their immediate vicinity. “If one of them sees us on the move, they could bring the lot of ’em back this way.”

  “And how much longer will we have to wait to be considerably safer?” William said.

  “For these lot to go? And for the swarm to be completely out of sight?”

  William nodded.

  “A few more hours at least.” Max then said, “If we’re going to go now, I’ll need to clear a path.”

  “I think we have to do it,” William said.

  “But”—Cyrus scratched his head—“if we alert the swarm again—”

  “We might not get to Grandfather Jacks’ community before the ceremony. I get it. But if we wait too much longer, we might not get there anyway. And the swarm are already far enough away to give us a good chance, right, Max?”

  Max shrugged. “I’d say so.”

  “If it’s a choice between going now or hoping things get better over the next few hours, when there’s no telling whether they will or not, I say we go now.” William shrugged. “And what if we don’t, and then they turn around and come back this way?”

  When neither Cyrus nor Artan replied, Max said, “I’ll clear a path.” The slightest hint of a smile lifted one side of his mouth as he jumped down from the rock, his war hammer raised and ready to be put to good use.

  Other than their snuffling and snorting, the few remaining stragglers from the diseased swarm were quiet. Max walked among them like he belonged, a deep crunch every few seconds from where another beast yielded to a full-bodied swing.

  “We have to move now,” Max said from the ground. “Let me chaperone you across. One at a time.”

  While lying on his belly, Artan freed a spear from where he’d tied several of them to his back. The knife he’d found at his hip, he felt for it before slipping from the rock and taking off at a sprint.

  William released his tension with a long sigh when Matilda’s brother climbed the rock fifty feet away.

  “Who’s next?” Max said.

  William nodded for Cyrus to go.

  “You sure?”

  “Just go.”

  Like Artan had done, Cyrus armed himself. He drew his sword and slipped from the rock.

  “Are you ready for this, William?” Max said, his face red from the exercise.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be. How’s it looking down there?”

  “The last two runs have been fine.”

  Jezebel in his hand, William brought his legs around in front of him and slid from the rock. A two-handed grip on the large axe’s handle, he charged in the same direction as his friends.

  Both Artan and Cyrus lifted their heads, fixing on William as he approached.

  Although there were diseased’s cries behind them from the gathered swarm, they were no more than their usual mutterings of discontent. The boys were too far away to be spotted by the main mob.

  The rock in his sights, William fought for breath as he quickened his pace, his feet twisting and turning with the lump
s and divots hidden beneath the long grass.

  The air left William’s lungs in a gasp when a diseased stumbled from around the back of the rock his friends were on. Blood red eyes, a slack jaw, and a canted stance. It fixed on William, its chest rising as it inhaled, its mouth wide, ready to release a call to the others.

  William tightened his grip on Jezebel’s handle, but he wouldn’t get there in time.

  A spear slammed into the creature’s head, the flint tip bursting out the other side, dragging the diseased to the ground with its momentum.

  His hand now empty of a weapon, Artan reached down for William, catching him and dragging him up onto the rock.

  William belly-flopped onto the cold steel, but as he fought for breath, Artan on one side of him, Cyrus on the other, he put an arm around Matilda’s brother and squeezed. “Thank you.”

  Artan smiled. “We’ll get to them before the ceremony.”

  While nodding, William said, “I believe it. I really do.”

  Chapter 35

  It had taken four guards to carry the cage Olga had been placed in to Grandfather Jacks’ bedroom. Four had taken Matilda, four had taken Heidi, and four for the girl with the broken ankle. They could have all walked, even the girl with the broken ankle, which Olga had told them she’d happily do, but they’d insisted on carrying them.

  Large windows—each one at least eight feet tall and four feet wide—ran along the side of the lavish room. Daylight flooded in, and even though they had Olga in a cage and she’d been in the room for hours, anything had to be better than the shadows deep inside the asylum. A four-poster bed in the centre of the room, it had cleaner sheets than she’d seen in a long time.

  The automatic doors then opened with a whoosh. The tall man in the outback hat. Grandfather Jacks. The High Father by proxy. He strode in, a wonky grin on his stubbled face. Grey hair protruded from his wide leather hat, and he walked with an almost limp. Maybe the bulge in his trousers explained the awkward gait, although he more than likely was riddled with arthritis, his scrawny frame brittle and twisted.

  Eyes only for Olga, his cheeks flushed. “The High Father has spoken to me,” he said.

  Olga pressed her hands together in prayer. “Praise be.”

  “He told me the formality of the ceremony, while important, shouldn’t delay any longer what needs to happen. He’s told me you shouldn’t be made to wait. That I shouldn’t deprive you.” His words shook as if he struggled to contain his glee. “I should help you transition to womanhood today. You should receive your enlightenment now.”

  Again Olga pressed her hands together. “Praise be.” Matilda’s glare burned into her, but she refused to look at her friend.

  Grandfather Jacks’ hungry eyes ran the length of Olga’s body. He liked them small. “Believe it or not,” he said, batting the air with his right hand, “I’m old enough to be your true grandfather. I know I don’t look it.” The wrinkles at the side of his eyes spread with his forced smile.

  A bulge in his right pocket, he reached into it and pulled out a bunch of keys. His gnarled hands shook as he fumbled to free her.

  “Leave her alone,” Matilda said, gripping the bars of her cage.

  The old man’s face twisted, the lust in his wide hazel eyes giving way to the intense focus of a predator. “What did you say, girl?”

  “I think she’s jealous,” Olga said, reaching out from her cage and pulling on the man’s sleeve, tugging him towards her. “She’s jealous the High Father has picked me first. And you can’t blame her for that, but don’t let her ruin it. I’m sure she won’t need to be told again.”

  Although Grandfather Jacks threw glances at Matilda, he finally unlocked Olga’s cage.

  Olga kicked the cage door with everything she had. With the frustration of being bound. With the fury of them cutting Matilda. With the injustice of what had been done to Heidi and her friend. Of what he did to the little boys. The frame of the large door connected with the man’s forehead with a loud bang, knocking him backwards, his arms windmilling as he stumbled away and fell to the ground.

  Before he had a chance to get up, Olga sprang forwards and laid several blows into his old face, his hat falling from his head as she beat him unconscious.

  The girl with the broken ankle shrieked, “Leave him alone!”

  While Olga dragged the skinny man back to her cage, the girl with the mousy-brown hair continued. “She’s hurting him. She’s hurting Grandfather Jacks.”

  “Shut up!” Olga said.

  “She’s going to kill him. Help!”

  The automatic doors had large handles that met in the middle when they were closed. Olga undid the belt around Grandfather Jacks’ waist and pulled it free. She dragged the limp man and locked him in her cage before she ran to the double doors, tying the belt through them, bracing against them with her foot as she pulled the knot tight.

  As Olga stepped away, the doors opened by just a few millimetres. Someone on the other side shouted, “We need help up here. They’re hurting Grandfather Jacks. Come now.”

  Olga unlocked Matilda’s cage, the door creaking.

  “Well done,” Matilda said.

  Olga tilted her head to one side. “You knew I was faking it?”

  “Of course. I was playing along. Not that I needed to, the stupid old fool is so full of himself, he didn’t even suspect you were lying.”

  “Lust coupled with the male ego is an intoxicating mix, eh?”

  The people on the other side of the door continued to hammer against it, and a blade slipped through the small gap. They moved it back and forth, sawing at the belt.

  Matilda tugged Olga’s arm. “Come on.” She ran to the large window and threw it open, pulling a decorative knife from the wall and slipping it into her belt.

  But instead of following her, Olga took the keys from Matilda’s cage and delivered them to Heidi. The guards at the door had already sawed a deep cut into the belt.

  Spears by the bed, Olga grabbed one. The girl with the brown hair screamed when she closed in on Grandfather Jacks.

  Olga drove the tip of it deep into his right eye, a spasm snapping through the unconscious man before he fell limp once again.

  “What have you done?” the girl cried. “Grandfather Jacks is dead. He’s dead!”

  The sword stopped sawing.

  “Are you coming with us?” Olga said to Heidi.

  Heidi shook her head. “I can’t leave her.”

  “The girl you knew is long gone, sweetie.”

  “I can’t leave her.”

  “Come on, Olga.” Matilda already hung half out of the window.

  The belt snapped. The doors spread open to reveal at least thirty of Grandfather Jacks’ guards. Every one of them looked at their dead leader, the spear protruding from his ratty face. Had they focused on taking down Olga, that might have been the end for her. If she hesitated any longer, it certainly would be. Olga jumped up onto the window ledge and climbed out after Matilda.

  Chapter 36

  They’d been running for a couple of hours, yet William still checked behind for the swarm. For the first hour he justified it by telling the others the diseased were no longer following them. Now he kept that information to himself. There was only so many times he could give them the same newsflash. The run had driven the cold from his bones and loosened his frame.

  They said little as they ran, other than: “We still on course?” Max said.

  For what must have been the tenth time, William transferred Jezebel into a one-handed grip while he pulled the plastic-wrapped map from his back pocket and examined it. He turned it so it lined up with their environment, the imposing steel wall behind them. “Yep, it’s all good.”

  “Wait a minute.” Artan slowed down and the other boys copied him. “Who the hell’s that?”

  “And why’s he alone?” Max said.

  The man stood about the same height as Cyrus, the shortest of all of them at about five and a half feet tall. They had simil
ar physiques, similar dark skin. As the man got closer, William squinted to see him better. The man had a young face and feline eyes. He could have been aged anywhere from twenty-five to fifty.

  As they drew closer to one another, the man slowed down and smiled, his entire face lighting up, his eyes narrowing to slits. He led with his right hand and said, “Hi, I’m Peter.”

  “Where are you from?” Max said.

  “I’m from a community in the deep south.”

  “Deep south where?” William said.

  “Scringuard.”

  If only William knew more to challenge him on it. And he didn’t want to reveal his map so he could check.

  “Be careful,” Cyrus said. “There’s a swarm that way.” He pointed back in the direction they’d come from. “A big one.”

  Peter nodded. “Thanks.”

  Cyrus then pointed over Peter’s head. “How’s the road back that way?”

  “Fine. The diseased must have all gravitated to that swarm.”

  “And how far away is Scringuard?” William asked.

  “Miles back that way.”

  “You’ve been running the whole time?”

  “I have.”

  “You must be fit. You’ve barely broken a sweat.”

  “You have to be fit to stay alive out here.”

  William ran his tongue around the inside of his dry mouth. “Where are you going now?”

  “North.” Peter wiped his brow, dragging away non-existent sweat. “I’ve heard life’s much easier up that way.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” Artan said.

  “Oh? Where are you from?”