by Robert Clark
‘For the right cause,’ Hope insisted. ‘I want to know how far you would go for the greater good.’
‘The greater good,’ snarled the Wolf. ‘How many times has that been thrown in our faces?’
I didn't respond right away. Instead, I looked deep into the eyes of the woman before me. The Wolf stalked around her, silently watching, silently judging. Eventually, I spoke.
‘I've seen a lot this world has to offer. I've seen a lot of the good, and a lot of the bad. But most of all I've seen a lot of the grey in between. Truth is, I'm not sure I know what I believe in anymore. What this world wants you to trust, I've seen its darkest side. The side no one wants to believe is true. But it's there, and it's worse than anything I've seen from the criminals of this world. Humanity is dark. People are fucked up. Too many people couldn't give a damn what happens to the rest of us, so long as they can earn their pay and blindly ignore the fire outside their windows.’
‘It sounds like you agree with us,’ said Hope.
‘To an extent. And I agree more with Cage than with you. No offence, but this whole caveman show feels ridiculous. Humanity is better than this. We evolved past this stage. And while you could say we've gone too far as a species, I don't think the answer is to pretend like we can turn back the clocks. It's no different to the rest of the world. Same fire in the window. You can't ignore it all. At least Cage knows there's a line to walk. Whether he's following it flawlessly, I couldn't say. I haven't been around long enough to judge that.’
‘Staged?’ Hope asked.
‘The mud huts and torn rags. Why live like that when you could have a better life? I don't believe you're following the line either. You've got vegetables at this point in the year, and they're fresh. You want to explain that?’
She shook her head.
‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘You've tainted the dream as much as Cage has. I don't blame you. No way in hell I'd want to starve myself when there's a supermarket down the road. But I would embrace it. Life is easier now than it used to be, and there are plenty of benefits to that to go along with the negatives.’
‘Then tell me, James. From what you've seen so far, would you adopt this lifestyle? Would you live it? Would you bleed it?’
‘I don't know. I haven't tried it enough yet. Like I said, there are pros and cons.’
Hope exhaled loudly and pursed together her thin lips.
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘Perhaps I have misjudged you. You may go back to your group. I’ve told Maddox you may stay the night, but in the morning you will have to leave.’
She got to her feet to show me out, but I stayed put.
‘Actually, I have some questions of my own,’ I said. ‘So I think I’ll stay here a little longer.’
Eighteen
A Night Under The Stars
Hope didn’t move. Her face looked gaunt in the light of the fire, like all the skin and muscles on her face had been removed, leaving only the skull behind. She towered over the flames like a beast from hell. I stayed sat. Feet planted out in front of me, enjoying the heat of the fire.
‘It’s only fair, don’t you think?’ I said. ‘You asked me some questions, I’d like the same courtesy.’
‘Have I not offered you courtesy enough by letting you stay here?’ She asked. There was unmistakable hostility in her voice. Not used to not getting her own way.
‘You have, but I’d have to ask if this land is yours to dictate upon?’
‘Nobody should own land,’ she sniffed. ‘It is not ours to claim.’
‘I’ll take that as a no then, so if you don’t mind, I’ll be asking you some questions now.’
Slowly, Hope retook her position by the fire. The way she held herself was stiff. Tense. Defensive.
‘By all means, ask away.’ She hissed.
‘I’d like to know what happened between you and Cage that made you decide you couldn’t stay at Second Solace.’
‘That is a personal matter between him and I.’
‘Personal enough to upheave the lives of your followers?’
Hope’s eyes narrowed across the room.
‘He wanted more,’ she said. ‘More than he had any right to.’
‘More?’
‘He didn’t to begin with. The others, they fed his appetite until it was all he could think of. Second Solace was always about one thing, and one thing only. He tried to make it more than that. He wanted to transform it into its own state. He didn’t want to be equal with the rest of America, he wanted to be more than it.’
‘How did he plan on doing that?’ I asked.
‘By listening to the dreams of fools and believing in their tricks,’ she scoffed. ‘Especially those closest to him.’
‘Like Fenwick?’
‘That old cretin. He's still alive, is he?’
‘Not a fan?’
‘He got into the project for the wrong reasons. I understand his part in it all - he had the money we needed to get the project going. But from his perspective, it was never about creating a new, sustainable future for humanity. He just needed somewhere to funnel all his ill-gotten gains. That association of his is a lie. He is, and will always be, part of the problem.’
‘What do you know about the association?’ I asked.
Hope's eyes narrowed once more.
‘What business is that of yours?’
‘Just trying to get a feel for the guy. You've got to admit, he's the odd one out of the team, what with him being one hundred and ninety years old.’
That got a smile out of her, exactly as I'd intended.
‘We had meetings at his headquarters before we got started,’ she said. ‘I saw things. Projects he was working on. He had his hand in many pies, and very few of them were savoury. But to give him a little credit, he abandoned the whole thing and joined Second Solace with the money he had accrued. We wouldn't be where we are without him.’
‘What was his reason for joining?’ I asked.
‘You'd have to ask him. He never went into it, and we didn't want to spook him out by making him question those decisions.’
‘How come he didn't decide to join you here?’
‘Because he never believed in it. None of it. He just wants control, and Second Solace was the best place for it. It fuelled his agenda, and that was the polar opposite of my desires.’
‘Okay,' I said. ‘Two more questions, if you’ll entertain me?’
She didn't reply. Nor did she seem offended by the prospect, so I continued.
‘How well did you know Cece?’
‘Who?’
‘Cecilia. The woman who follows Cage around like a dog.’
‘Ah yes,’ she said with a knowing smile. ‘Cecilia. She is quite the enigma. Her presence in Second Solace never felt genuine, if you ask me.’
‘I had the same thought. Was she in charge of the bunker while you were there?’
‘The bunker was derelict when I left,’ she said. ‘Maddox had plans to restore it some day. He must have found time over the last decade to achieve that.’
‘What plans did he have for it?’
‘This and that,’ she said. ‘I believe he wanted it for an outpost in the event that the Government tried to reclaim the land. It was to be his last defence.’
‘A bunker isn't going to stop an army,’ I said. ‘He must have had plans for something else?’
Which was a step too far. Once more, Hope recoiled like a snake and glared at me.
‘Whatever it is you seek, you won't find it from me.’ She said. ‘I may not agree with Maddox anymore, but I will not turn traitor to his vision. Whatever you are trying to do, I suggest you stop before it gets you killed.’
‘Is that a threat?’
‘It is a warning. Maddox is a powerful man, and he will not surrender Second Solace to you or anyone. He would rather die. It is the reason I fell in love with the man so many years ago. And it is the reason I made the decision to leave.’
She stood up once more, this tim
e with more power in her stance.
‘I think it's time you returned to Maddox and the others,’ she snapped.
‘I still have one more question.’
‘Then it will have to go unanswered. Such is the way of life.’
I got to my feet and left. Didn't shake her hand, smile or say goodbye, regardless of the enormous faux pas on my English sensibilities. She didn't follow me. I walked back to the group in silence, thinking about the conversation.
The dynamic had shifted from dining to resting. The plates had been taken away, replaced by a series of small canopies, under which Cage and the rest of the group sat around. Unlike the canopies I'd seen at garden parties back home, the material used for these were made from animal hide, maybe a deer or elk. I found a spot near Turner and sat down. Cage looked up at me.
'Good talk?' He asked.
'We mostly just talked about food,' I said. 'I told her I'm partial to a bit of grapefruit.'
Cage’s eyes narrowed, and Gail sniggered. I looked around and spotted what was destined to be our sleeping apparatus for the night. Pillows and blankets made from the same stuff as the canopy. Must be a couple dozen deer or elk wandering around without their skin. I took one of the pillows and squeezed it to test my theory. It felt about right. I checked inside. Human hair. That's where it went then.
Conversation was light for the rest of the evening. The temperature dropped, so Turner and Corser went off to gather up firewood, and before long we had the warmth of a roaring fire to warm our cockles. Down in the County of Hope, I watched distant figures retreat into their huts, and decided I’d do the same. I found myself a spot under the canopy that looked to be the smoothest and settled down. My angle meant I was going to have one hell of a sunrise, so long as I made it to the morning without getting my throat slit. I tucked the blanket around me and shut my eyes.
Sleep didn’t come straight away, not like the night before. I heard Corser arrange three hour night watches with Turner and Davies, each of them taking a shift. Corser was up first, which gave me some comfort at least. One less person trying to murder me in my sleep… probably.
After everyone had settled down for the night, the claws of sleep dug themselves into my conscious and dragged it away, leaving me with the nightmares that haunted my nights. The usual faces made an appearance. Sophie, Nicole, Salazar and Fadhil all drifted in and out of my dreams. But whatever their purpose for that night, I was unable to remember as the morning came.
I opened my eyes, expecting to see the wonderful spectacle of the rising sun, but instead I was met with darkness. Time had passed, but how much I was unsure. There was a stillness to the world found only in the early hours, and I was ready to let it soothe me back to sleep when I sensed disruption.
I shifted around to see if it was Turner or Davies on guard, but I spotted both passed out at the edge of the canopy. Corser too was out cold, his head tilted towards me. I could see Cage and Gail too, both asleep.
But not Cece.
I sat up carefully and looked around for her. But she wasn’t there. Wasn’t anywhere in sight. I peeled off my blanket and rearranged it so the space looked like, at first glance, someone was still hidden underneath it. Then, as quietly as I could, I got to my feet and took a slow, steady lap of the campsite. I tried to make it look like I was restless. I stretched out my arms and legs and rolled my head around on my neck. A small performance for an unseen audience. All the while, I looked around, searching the ever-reaching darkness for a woman who hated my guts.
But after my first lap, I couldn’t see anyone. So I went for another lap, this time wider and longer. I walked a little way down the hill towards the huts, then into the neighbouring trees, and back up. I skirted around the building Hope and I had talked in, which was when I saw her.
She had her back up against the wall of the hut so that no one could sneak up behind her, which was a smart move given what I was doing, but it was completely useless, as she had her face buried in the light of her mobile phone. The glare of the screen lit up her face like a circus attraction. I froze on the spot to not disturb her peripheral vision.
She was reading something on the screen. Even at a distance, I could see her eyes flickering side to side, and saw her mouth move slightly as she read the message out in her mind. The anger that was usually so prominent on her face, had been replaced by a mix of confusion and annoyance. Her thumbs tapped frantically at the buttons as she typed out a response, and I used the distraction to edge behind the closest tree.
She stayed there for several minutes, occasionally looking up and scanning her surroundings. But her night vision was shot to shit. I could have stood a couple feet in front of her without her knowing, so long as she kept looking back down at the screen. Finally, she switched off the phone and pushed it into her trouser pocket.
She didn’t move straight away. Quite like when she had looked directly at me in the bunker, her eyes lingered on something ahead of her. I felt it too. Movement in the trees off to my right. I looked around, but my eyes couldn’t focus on anything definite. Yet I was certain we were not alone.
I drifted back into the trees and hustled away. I didn’t want to attract more attention from whoever was out there watching. Was it Hope, or one of her followers? Or was it someone else? But I didn’t go back to bed. Not right away. Part of me wanted to. It saw the intrinsic value in not getting caught snooping around and being uncovered as an FBI spy, but the other part of me wanted answers. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. That was practically my mantra now. I should get a tattoo of it on my damn arm.
I kept to the trees and moved quietly around our little encampment, back down the hill. If anyone spotted me, I could shrug it off as a restless man stretching the old legs. It could work. Could also lead to a bullet in the head.
The more I observed the settlement, the better idea I had for the lay of the land. The clearing was vaguely shaped like a triangle, with the top angle up at Queen Hope’s statue, and the base spreading out across the settlement. I could spy several campfires burning low, their embers warm and appetising. I could make out just a couple of stragglers still up and about, but I couldn’t be sure there weren’t loads more. Maybe they were watching me snoop around. It wouldn’t, after all, be the first time.
Yet neither the Wolf nor I could feel their eyes upon us, so we continued unabashed. As the settlement drew close, I pressed myself up against the trunk of a large pine tree on the edge of the forest, and looked around. No point going shelter to shelter, knocking on what constitutes for a door around these parts, and asking to see what they’ve got hidden. I needed proof. I needed a plan.
Most of the shelters I could see were no bigger than a garden shed and, were I to hazard a guess, contained up to a half dozen sleeping hostiles a piece. Not exactly a roomy getup. Unless they had burrowed underground to flesh out their most ideal architectural dreams, I guessed they did most of their household chores outside the house. Unless I’d read the situation completely wrong, they’d have to prepare their meals elsewhere. A communal space. And why run the risk of cooking breakfast out in the open amidst a torrential downpour? A wise community would cook indoors.
It also, theoretically, had to be some place big enough to host a large number all at once. No one wants to wait until the food goes cold because they had to wait for Maggie and Derek to finish their conversation on table two. Besides, it was a morale thing. Even the greatest of groups could grow grumpy. Keep the spirits of your troops high with a hearty group meal. That was Leadership 101.
So with all that in mind, I kept my eyes peeled for a mess hall. There was only one building I could see that fit the bill, and it was all the way slap bang in the middle of the settlement. Typical. Getting there would be a problem.
What worked in my favour was how close together each of the huts were, and how haphazardly they had been positioned, like soldier tents on the cusp of battle in some medieval war. Getting a clean line of sight on me would be difficult, but by the s
ame logic, every twist and turn I made could put me right in front of a patrolling guard. High risk, all for a gamble.
I crossed from the trees to the closest hut without taking an arrow to the back, and crouched low. Just like out on the minefield, each step could be my last. Some huts I passed emitted the faint sounds of slumber. From others I could hear hushed conversation.
Then, up ahead, I saw a figure. The small, slender physique of a woman. Slung over her shoulder was a large hunting bow, with a sheathe of arrows hanging next to it. She was talking quietly, and as I inched closer, I saw the recipients. A group of six similarly clad men and woman huddled around the dying remnants of a campfire. While none immediately spotted me, I knew it was only a matter of time, so I retreated deeper and skirted around to the left.
Which presented an even greater problem. A guard was walking right towards me. He had his head titled left, eyeing the tantalising glow of warm embers, which gave me a brief window to slip behind the closest hut. I managed to find cover just as the guard returned his eyes to the track, and I squeezed into a small recess, hidden in the shadows.
‘He saw you,’ snarled the Wolf in my ear.
‘He didn’t. You’re being paranoid,’ I whispered back to myself.
In the silence of night, I could hear the gentle squelch of feet on sodden earth. Heading our direction.
‘He didn’t see me,’ I insisted.
‘You willing to bet your life on that?’
The guard couldn’t be more than a couple of metres away.
‘Move, now!’ hastened the Wolf.
I did. Slithering out of the recess, I picked a different hut and darted for it. The entrance was facing me, and all inside was dark and still. I stepped just over the threshold so the darkness shrouded me, but not enough to disturb those sleeping. I turned just in time to see the guard round the corner and look at the gap I’d just vacated.
‘I told you,’ hissed the Wolf.
The guard looked around for a moment. His manner was relaxed and uninterested, and after a couple of seconds he moved back to his patrol without the worry that an intruder was having an anxiety attack mere feet from him. I waited until the moment he was out of sight, then I moved, fast and low for the mess hall.
