“Get out of the way, you morons!” the girl said.
Frustration was etched on her face as she marched, her boots thudding on the paving stones.
“You fool!” she said, cupping her hands and bellowing down the corridor she’d come from. “You’re going to destroy this place with your greed! You wait and see!”
She turned and almost ran into Jamie and Lucy.
“What are these?” she said with a sneer, hands on her hips. “New traders, I bet? Good luck getting anything out of the Preacher. Like extracting blood from a stone. That’s what you’re expected to deal with.”
“We’re not traders,” Jamie said.
The girl took a step back to appraise them head to foot.
“You are a little young, I suppose,” she said.
A twisted cruel smile spread across her face.
“Then you must be the latest entertainment,” she said. “For several evenings, I would wager.”
“All right you,” the Speaker said sternly. “On with you. Go on.”
“Can’t you see I’m talking with my friends?” the girl said. “A word to the wise: it’s all a game. A sham. A farce. Use whatever word you want. It’s a twisted, sordid game. The only way to win is not to play. Do you get me?”
She was looking Jamie dead in the eye. No one who lied could do that, not while maintaining an even, calm tone. There was a fierce intelligence in those eyes, Jamie thought. She wore her anger like a badge on her breast, proudly proclaiming it to the world.
The Speaker shoved her.
“I said that’s enough,” he said.
The girl stumbled back but did not lose her feet. She glared back at him.
“They need their little games,” she said. “Where would they be without their little distractions? They’d have to fight like the rest of us. They’re a bunch of liars and conmen. That’s all they are. Liars and conmen. And cowards. Mustn’t forget that.”
The Speaker moved to shove her again. The girl held up her hands in mock surrender.
“All right, all right,” she said. “I think I’ve taken just about as many good manners as I can handle. You’ve got to love the faux-British etiquette they have here. The suggestion of manners is so much easier to fake than to actually have them.”
The Speaker stepped forward again, but the girl was fast and hopped back. She shut one eye, stuck her tongue in her bottom lip and made a strange noise in the back of her throat. Then she turned and marched away.
What a strange girl, Jamie thought.
“Enter,” the Speaker said, still a little flustered. “The Preacher will see you now.”
75.
“GOOD MORNING!” the Preacher said, spreading his arms wide in a warm welcoming gesture.
Jamie wished he didn’t do that. The flaps under his arms looked like Dumbo wings. He was without a doubt the fattest man Jamie had ever seen. He sported a perfectly manicured mustache on his top lip, curled with oil. His hair was likewise oiled, so tight and thin you could see his scalp.
“Please, take a seat, take a seat,” the Preacher said. “As you have no doubt already guessed, I am the Preacher. It’s just a name, don’t worry. I’m not about to launch a tirade on you about going to hell, although I certainly do have the chops for it.”
He took a deep breath and half-shouted, half-sang: “And if you do not do as the Good Book says, ye shall burn in the fiery depths of Hell! Heathens!”
He chuckled to himself before smiling expectantly at Jamie and Lucy.
“That was. . . very loud,” Jamie said.
“Of course it was!” the Preacher said. “Only the very best orators become preachers. And I was only working at half volume. Would you care to hear a full blast?”
He took another deep breath.
“No!” Lucy said, beating Jamie to the punch. “That’s okay.”
“Perhaps later then,” the Preacher said, a little disappointed.
Jamie’s ears still hurt.
“So,” the Preacher said, leaning back on the three-piece sofa. He managed to take up the entire space himself. “What can I do for you?”
Jamie blinked. He wasn’t sure he’d heard him right.
“Sorry?” he said. “What can you do for us?”
“Yes,” the Preacher said. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To get something. That’s why anyone is ever here.”
“Yes, I suppose so. . .” Jamie said. “We want you to let us go.”
The Preacher chuckled behind his flabby hand.
“My boy, we’re not holding you prisoner,” he said. “You’re holding yourselves.”
“You locked us in a cage,” Jamie said.
“Wrong again, my dear boy,” the Preacher said. “That is only a physical representation of your situation. The chains that bind you have nothing to do with us.”
Jamie exchanged a look with Lucy. Do you understand any of this? Lucy shook her head. He turned to the Speaker who stood to attention in the corner of the room.
“Let me explain a few things first,” the Preacher said. “Then perhaps you’ll understand where I’m coming from. You see, we are the Chosen. We walk in the Lord’s light. This is how we must live if we hope to rid ourselves of the world’s great decay. Not only the physical decay of man, that’s the least of it, but our spiritual decay. Man was once rotten to his very core. Now, we are clean, free of sin.
“The world became putrid, decadent, a sorry place. That’s why it ended up the way it has. People always wanted more and more, and the Lord took his things back. Even the human race’s most prized gift: our self-awareness. The creatures that roam the world above are merely a physical manifestation of their inner demons, of the monster we all carried inside us back then.
“The debts we were unable to pay back, the bigger and better objects we bought to make ourselves feel better when they were only really making things worse. Ever since we came down here, things have gotten better. None of our number have turned into those monsters. They’re free of evil, of greed. You must repent and give yourselves to the holy spirit, to the one true god. Our Lord and saviour. Only He can wash your soul clean. Only He can deliver you from evil. All you need do is let him enter your soul and all is forgiven.”
He finished by clasping his clammy hands together, eyes closed, as if he had bestowed some great gift upon them. Jamie shared a look with Lucy. What was all that supposed to mean? He’d been to church every Sunday his whole life and he’d never had anyone tell him any of this stuff.
“I’m not greedy,” Jamie said. “I don’t want anything, except to leave.”
“Denial can be a powerful thing,” the Preacher said, smile still affixed to his face.
“I’m not in denial,” Jamie said. “If you saw our commune you would see we don’t have a lot. Only what we need.”
The Preacher’s eyebrows reached the top of his head. Not in surprise, but in superiority, as if he knew something of great import that Jamie did not.
“If you let us go we won’t ever come back here,” Jamie said. “I promise.”
“We cannot set you free because we are not imprisoning you,” the Preacher said. “And we do not want you to leave. After you realize your error, you’ll never want to go.”
He picked amongst the food on the table. Thick chunks of meat on big bones.
Jamie wet his lips and considered telling the Preacher about everything they knew, everything Dr. Beck had told them about the Bugs planting the seed of the virus on meteorites and letting them fall to the Earth.
Then it occurred to him. There was little difference between the Preacher’s theory and Dr. Beck’s. It was possible to believe either concept. He didn’t even need to present evidence. Perhaps people only believed what they decided made sense to them, with or without evidence. He filed it away to consider later.
He took a deep breath. He couldn’t believe he was even entertaining this.
“What do we have to do to convince you we’re without greed?” Jamie s
aid.
“It’s not me you have to convince,” the Preacher said, before pointing up with a greasy finger.
He was pointing at the roof. No, he meant Heaven. If he was so sure God lived in the clouds, why did he spend his time underground where the devil was supposed to live? It made no sense.
“How do we convince Him?” Jamie said.
“You must let him speak to you,” the Preacher said. “Let him enter your heart and give you guidance. Let him in and know your innermost secrets. Only then can you truly be free.”
Jamie didn’t know what that meant. He was used to getting orders like, “Go pump the well to get water,” or “Go butcher the chicken. We need meat for tonight.” Clear goals with an obvious outcome and purpose. What on Earth was all this?
They need their little games. They’re a bunch of liars and conmen.
The Preacher coughed, heavy and thick, then hawked up the phlegm and spat into a bucket he kept at his feet.
“The Good Lord has chosen to punish me for what sins I may have committed,” the Preacher said. “The Lord is never done with any of us. Not until the end.”
He hawked up another wad. Jamie dry heaved. The Preacher didn’t spit this time and instead chewed on it like a cow with cud.
“Each member of our commune has been handpicked by the Good Lord,” the Preacher said. “Join us, and you will enjoy the everlasting fruits in the afterlife.”
Jamie much preferred promises kept today than ones far in the distance. The future was too unsettled for his liking. It never did what you expected. Jamie got the feeling the not-too-distant future was going to be the same.
76.
“WELL?” DONNY said. “How’d it go?”
Jamie, still haunted and more than a little confused by the words he’d heard, looked Donny in the eye. His elder brother could see something was wrong but there was no way in a million years he would ever guess what was said during the meeting.
“We need to get out of here,” Jamie said. “Or we’re doomed.”
Donny lowered his voice and glanced through the bars before speaking.
“I managed to pry the corner up,” Donny said.
“Actually, I pried it up,” Fatty said.
“We pried it up,” Donny said, giving Fatty a look. “Is that all right, Fatty? Are you okay with sharing a little of the limelight?”
Fatty shrugged.
“So long as no one forgets who the star was,” he said.
Donny raised his hand. Fatty, forgetting himself, shied away.
“There was something interesting a girl we met said,” Lucy said. “I don’t think she’s from here. She doesn’t dress like them.”
“What did she say?” Donny said.
“‘It’s all a game,’” Lucy said.
Donny waited for more.
“That’s it?” he said. “What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure,” Lucy said. “Everything, I think. Everything here.”
“And she said we shouldn’t play their game,” Jamie said.
“What game was she talking about?” Fatty said. “Like, Snakes and Ladders? That kind of game?”
“Shut up, you idiot,” Donny said.
Fatty gave Donny a petulant look, pressing his lips together.
“Look,” Donny said. “Maybe the things the girl—whoever she is—said were important or maybe they’re not. How about we just get the hell out of here? That’s not playing their game, is it?”
“I’m not sure,” Jamie said. “It’s hard to know what the game even is.”
“Then let’s not waste time wondering about it,” Donny said. “We’ve got a perfectly good way out of here. I suggest we use it.”
He clasped his fingers together forming a stirrup.
“Climb up,” Donny said.
Jamie looked at the cup his brother’s fingers created. Maybe he was thinking too much. He needed to get out of there and everything would be clear. He slipped his foot into the proffered step.
“Attaboy,” Donny said, raising his brother up. “That’s it. Now grab that corner and push it up.”
“Hey,” Fatty said. “I was the one who broke the corner. I should be the one who gets to go first.”
“You’re not strong enough to pull the rest of us up,” Donny said. “And you’re too fat.”
“You still have to lift me up,” Fatty said.
“Do I?” Donny said.
Jamie reached up and pressed at where the two pieces of bamboo met. It didn’t take much effort to lift it. The gap wasn’t large but he thought he could squeeze his body through.
He froze.
His eyes moved to the side, analyzing. Thinking.
“What’s the holdup?” Donny said. “I swear, if Fatty didn’t do a good job I’m using his head as a battering ram to get out of here.”
“Is that what happened to your lumpy face?” Fatty said with a pleased expression.
“Let me down,” Jamie said solemnly.
“What?” Donny said. “Why?”
Jamie was going to fall if he didn’t let him down. Back on the ground now, Jamie looked out at the village. Quiet. Dark. Too quiet. Too dark.
“This is what they want,” Jamie said.
“What are you talking about?” Donny said. “This is what who want?”
“The people here,” Jamie said. “This is their game. Wanting us to escape.”
“You’re being paranoid,” Donny said.
“No,” Jamie said. “I’m not. The girl warned us about these people.”
“Not the girl again,” Donny said, rolling his eyes. “Here’s a question to wrap your noodle around: why should you believe a girl you don’t know?”
“It’s. . . a feeling,” Jamie said.
“I felt the same thing,” Lucy said. “I think she was telling the truth. If we leave this cage they’ll do something to us. Something bad.”
“The Preacher,” Jamie said. “He said something about us having to prove ourselves spiritually.”
“Maybe they decide by seeing if we try to escape or not,” Lucy said. “That’s their test. To see if we’ll be a part of their commune.”
“We don’t want to be a part of their crummy commune,” Donny said. “We’ve got a much better one already at Mountain’s Peak.”
“It doesn’t matter what we want,” Lucy said. “It’s about breaking us down, making us become the kind of people who are easy to manipulate.”
“Right,” Jamie said. “That’s it. If we stay here, don’t try to escape, they’ll let us out.”
“Excuse me?” Donny said. “You want us not to escape?”
“Yes,” Jamie said.
“How long do we have to wait?” Donny said.
Jamie wasn’t sure.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“So let me get this straight,” Donny said. “We have a perfectly good escape method right here and you don’t want to use it because you’ve got a bit of a feeling?”
“No,” Jamie said. “Because of what the girl said.”
“I can virtually taste freedom from here,” Donny said, looking up at the broken cage corner. “The fresh air is literally blowing in my face.”
“It does seem a bit easy,” Fatty said.
“You weren’t saying that when you were sweating and complaining,” Donny said. “It wasn’t easy with a sack of lard on my shoulders, I can promise you that.”
“Hey!” Fatty said. “That was the rock!”
“Sure,” Donny said.
“I should have dropped the rock on your stupid head and given you a third bump,” Fatty said, staring daggers at the older boy.
He’d never dreamed of confronting Donny like this before, Jamie was sure.
“What’s gotten into you, Fatty?” Jamie said.
“Me?” Fatty said. “Nothing.”
His eyes were bloodshot, the pupils frantic, darting this way and that.
“It’s this place,” he said, shoulders slumping. “Bein
g stuck in here like this. Prisoners.”
Jamie had left the cage, stretched his legs and gone for a little walk. What would he be like if he hadn’t left? Probably much like Fatty. Climbing the walls and spoiling for a fight.
One of the locals approached their cage and stood with her back to them. She took out a cigarette and lit it. The group quietened. Probably a spy sent there to learn what they were up to.
“Let’s get some rest,” Jamie said, eying the would-be spy cautiously.
Donny eyed their escape longingly. It was so close. So easy. . .
“Psst! Hey! Hey you!”
It took a moment for Jamie to realize the voice was coming from the girl smoking the cigarette.
77.
SHE WAS doing her best to look like she wasn’t speaking with them, her collar up and opening her mouth only when she put her cigarette to her lips.
“You’re the girl from the church!” Jamie said.
“Don’t look at me!” the girl said. “Look in another direction.”
Jamie did. Fatty, as always, was slow to move. Donny pushed him out of the way.
“What did you do that for?” Fatty said.
“You kept staring at her,” Donny said.
“They’re my eyes!” Fatty said. “I can do what I like with them!”
“Not if they’re going to affect my chances of escape you can’t,” Donny said.
They peeled off into another argument.
Jamie held onto the bars and pressed his face to them. They were cool against his skin. His left ear faced the girl so he could hear what she was saying but without looking directly at her.
“I see you took my advice,” the girl said. “And didn’t try to escape.”
“Just about,” Jamie said. “It took some figuring out. Why couldn’t you have just told us?”
“Not much of a challenge then, is it?” the girl said.
“Why shouldn’t we try to escape?” Jamie said.
“It’s their system of sorting the strong from the weak,” the girl said. “Sit and be quiet like good little boys and girls and they’d let you out eventually.”
After The Fall (Book 2): The City Page 15
