Rogue

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Rogue Page 22

by Mark Frost


  “Hey, I almost forgot,” said Nick. “I gotta go get the drone.”

  Nick tied the horses to a rail outside the barracks and ran back toward the grove.

  Jericho rolled open the parchment. It was a map, on crisp, thick paper, hand drawn in a variety of colored inks. He set it down on the porch while the others examined it. None of the writing was in any form they recognized as language, but a number of significant geographical features were easy to identify.

  “The lake,” said Will, pointing to a broad blue swatch across the lower middle of the map. “The river. The bridge. So we’re here.”

  He put his finger down on a representation of the garrison and traced the path of the road along the bridge.

  “If we follow this to the other side, it hooks up with that main road, here,” he said. “According to this, like you saw earlier, Coach, it runs all the way to the mountains.”

  Will pointed to a series of wavy thin lines, well to the north and west, a symbol he recognized as the topographical representation of a mountain range’s elevations.

  “What’s this?” asked Elise.

  She pointed to the end of the road at a rectangular cluster of six joined hexagons, outlined in black and filled in with red, tucked into the shelter of the mountains.

  “I’m guessing that’s the Citadel,” said Will.

  “Where that army is headed,” said Jericho.

  “And that’s where we’ll find Dave?” asked Ajay.

  “I think so,” said Will.

  Nick came running back into camp, holding Ajay’s drone in one hand.

  “Dude, sorry, it took a serious beat-down when it crashed into the trees,” he said, handing it over.

  They gathered around Ajay as he set the device on the ground and his busy, efficient hands attended to it. Two of the drone’s struts were bent, and one of the rotors was hanging by a wire.

  “The bad news is she’ll never fly again,” said Ajay. “The good news is it appears that the camera survived the crash unscathed.”

  He removed the camera from its housing and attached it by cable to a six-inch viewing tablet that he pulled from his pack. Holding it up so they all could see it, Ajay flipped a switch and the tablet’s screen flickered to life.

  “I programmed it to snap a fresh photograph every ten seconds.”

  He scrolled through the pictures as they all watched; overhead views of the golden plain they’d just traversed, then the stand of eucalyptus trees, the garrison, the bridge. Many fleeting glimpses of the army on the road below followed, although not much detail appeared through the rising clouds of dust because of the overhead angle. But the impressive scale and size of the procession was plain enough to see, and occasionally the top of a rolling siege weapon or the head of some colossal beast poked up above the mist.

  After passing across the road, images of a rolling green countryside appeared, sparsely forested, dotted with occasional buildings, mostly farms or small villages.

  Jericho picked up the map at that point, and cross-referenced the photos to chart the flight of the drone over the land depicted on the parchment. He traced its path from the highway as the pictures continued, and it drew closer to the hexagons of the Citadel. There the landscape turned gradually more barren as it approached, the green hills giving way to a parched and pitted plain, where the outskirts of a massive temporary encampment began to appear in the pictures.

  “Oh my Lord,” whispered Ajay.

  The army they’d seen on the march was apparently on its way to join an even more massive force that had already gathered there. Judging by the photos, this encampment appeared to go on for a number of square miles outside the front walls of the Citadel, images of which now appeared on the screen for the first time. Segregated regiments of every breed of monster they could imagine covered the field, including a battalion of snake-men they saw clearly in the center of one frame.

  “Boy, are those snake-dudes gonna be bummed when they get home,” said Nick.

  “What this suggests,” said Ajay, leaning back as he took it all in, “is that there must be a great number of similar encampments to the one we destroyed throughout the Never-Was.”

  “That’s right,” said Jericho.

  “Each one stocked with a different kind of monster,” said Elise.

  “One more frightful than the next,” said Ajay. “I predict that my nightmares are now going to have nightmares.”

  “How big is their entire force?” asked Will. “The size of this whole army, can you estimate it?”

  “I would have to say…in the hundreds of thousands,” said Ajay, staring at the photo. “Conservatively.”

  Will turned his focus to the walls of the Citadel. They were built or carved from some dark granite, all long lines and sharp angles, and it looked as if the whole structure had thrust itself forward out of the hard black bare mountains behind it. From this overhead angle, it was difficult to determine exactly how tall the ramparts forming its perimeter stood, but judging from the relative size of objects on the ground below, they appeared to be as tall as a skyscraper.

  “Remind you of anything?” asked Will.

  “The wall,” said Ajay, his eyes locked on the picture, soaking in every detail. “The one underground, around Cahokia. The craftsmanship is unmistakable.”

  “These dudes are definitely really good at…building really sick stuff,” said Nick.

  The pictures that followed all picked up pieces of the vast structure as the drone had made its overhead pass. It was hard to get a sense of how large the whole compound was, in part because it appeared to be bigger than anything they’d ever seen before; they had nothing to compare it to.

  “Curious…I don’t see any defensive weapons or emplacements,” said Ajay. “Anywhere along the walls.”

  “No need,” said Elise. “Who’d be crazy enough to attack a place like that?”

  They looked around uneasily at each other.

  A wide variety of different buildings had been constructed within the walls, although what purpose they might serve was difficult to determine from the overhead angle. But it was clear that a great deal of thought had been given to the overall layout; the spacing and symmetry made this part of the Citadel look like something out of a storybook about Mount Olympus, a city built by or for gods of antiquity. In the center of what appeared to be the main cluster of those buildings, arrayed around a large open plaza, one particular building stood out, the only one of its kind—a huge circular stone dome.

  As Will stared at the dome, he felt something tug at his mind: an intuitive stab of recognition. Twitching like a muscle he was just learning how to use. But this time he recognized it.

  “I think he’s in here,” said Will, pointing to the dome. “I don’t know how I know this, but I think Dave is somewhere in this building.”

  “Well, of course he is,” said Ajay, his voice quavering a bit. “Dead center in the heart of the darkness.”

  “Strange,” said Jericho. “Have you noticed a single figure anywhere in sight, on top of or inside the walls?”

  “None,” said Ajay. “Nowhere. I was about to comment on it myself.”

  “What do you think that means?” asked Elise.

  “One thing for sure,” said Will, “whatever this place is, it’s not for the army they’ve assembled out here.”

  “No, they’re just cannon fodder,” said Jericho. “Like the snake-men.”

  “What do you think they’re all doing here, then?” asked Nick. “Did everybody just show up for the annual monster jamboree?”

  “They’re obeying orders,” said Jericho. “The Makers raise them like livestock. When they ring the dinner bell, these things come running.”

  “But why now?” asked Nick.

  “If your gods that made you gave you an order, wouldn’t you follow it?” asked Ajay.

  “I might if they asked me nicely,” said Nick.

  “That’s the reason for the wall,” said Jericho. “They don’t
want to reveal themselves. Whoever’s running the show stays inside. Keep out of sight; it’s easier to maintain their power over their peons.”

  “I think you’re right, Coach,” said Will, tapping the center of the Citadel on the screen. “This is the home they built for themselves. This is where the Makers live.”

  “Well, I’m guessing there can’t be that many of the Maker dudes or you would’ve caught some of ’em on camera, right?” said Nick.

  “Maybe they’re just not very outdoorsy,” said Ajay.

  “If there aren’t that many, what do they need all these buildings for, then?”

  Will pored over the next series of images. Near the back right section of the compound, once the drone had banked a wide turn and began its journey back toward the grove, it passed over row after row of enormous squat chimney stacks, fashioned from black bricks, dozens of them, each belching a foul stream of multicolored smoke into the air.

  “These are their factories,” said Will, letting his intuition lead him again as his eyes stayed fixed on the pictures.

  “For what?” asked Elise.

  “Maybe they make all that ‘made in China’ junk here,” said Nick.

  “This is where the Makers manufacture all the things we’ve seen in the Never-Was. From the ground up—the plants, the animals, their soldiers. They started at an elemental, maybe even molecular level. Earth, water, sky, all of it came from these buildings.”

  “How do you know that, Will?” asked Ajay.

  “This was nothing more than a void zone when they first got locked in here, an empty, blank dimension; that’s what Dave told me. Turning it into the world that we’ve seen is what they’ve been doing ever since they were thrown in and the Hierarchy slammed the door.”

  “Sorry for sounding thick about this,” said Nick, looking around, “but what would they need all this stuff for?”

  “Raw materials. That’s what everything we’ve seen since we got here is for.”

  “Raw materials for what?”

  “For making monsters,” said Will. “They created this whole world so they could build, grow, and support an army. The one we’re looking at here.”

  He pointed at a shot of the army in front of the wall. That silenced everyone. They looked at the pictures with a lot more concern.

  “And we already know why they’re doing that,” said Elise softly.

  “So this is where it all started,” said Jericho, pointing at the chimneys on the screen.

  “Behold their satanic mills, their infernal labs and foundries,” said Ajay.

  “Is that from a poem?” asked Nick.

  “Part of it. William Blake,” said Ajay. “And I’m shocked you recognized it.”

  “I didn’t recognize it; it just sounded like a poem.”

  “This is where all the smoke comes from, then,” said Elise, pointing to the chimneys. “All that poisonous stuff choking the atmosphere.”

  “Yeah, but it makes for some awesome sunsets,” said Nick. “That is, it would, if they had a sun.”

  Will looked up at the horizon beyond the mountains. He had noticed it was getting harder to breathe, and as they drew closer to what they now knew was its source, the skies ahead appeared darker and more toxic here than anywhere else they’d seen.

  “Wait a moment, what’s this?” said Ajay, looking at the screen again.

  They crowded around the screen to take a look. After the drone flew past the chimney array, it had taken a single shot of what appeared to be a massive construction site.

  “Looks like they’re building another smokestack,” said Nick.

  “No, this one is different,” said Ajay. “It’s more upright, and they’re not framing it the same way. I don’t even see any bricks, which is what they used for all the others.” He used his nimble fingers to enlarge a section of the screen for more detail. “This is some other sort of structure entirely. As you can see, they’ve cleared out the whole area around it, and it’s near what looks like an entrance in the walls, with a road leading directly to it.”

  “I don’t see any workers,” said Elise. “How do you think they’re building it?”

  “They may be obscured by this,” said Ajay. “What looks like scaffolding around the structure.”

  “Maybe the drone flew over during their coffee break,” said Jericho.

  The ground around the site appeared to be soaked with some kind of black ooze that sent up thick tendrils of smoke. As Will studied that part of the photo, he felt a sudden chill run through him. He hoped, for once, that his intuition was dead wrong about what they were looking at. He closed his eyes and tried to send his mind closer to what was in the picture.

  He suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. His eyes flew open and watered as if he’d been exposed to toxic gas. He coughed and sputtered, taking a few steps away. Nick followed him, patting him on the back.

  “Hey, you okay, Will?”

  He snapped back into himself and the poisoned sensation quickly subsided. He nodded and took a long pull of water from his canteen. Elise moved close to him, staring at him with deep concern.

  What was that all about? she asked.

  Tell you later.

  Nick was staring up at the violated skies draped over the mountains. “Man, these Maker dudes better get cranking on some pollution controls, stat, or they’re gonna choke this whole place out.”

  “Dave said that’s exactly what happened the last time they were in charge,” said Will, putting his canteen away. “Back on Earth. They ruined nature. That’s a big part of why the Hierarchy booted them.”

  “For that, and playing God,” said Elise.

  “It’s a loathsome fiend indeed that fouls its own nest,” said Ajay.

  “William Blake?” asked Nick.

  “No, I made that part up.”

  “The Makers don’t give a rip what they do to this place,” said Will, packing up his saddlebag. “It’s their sandbox. They built it, and they feel like they can do whatever they want to it to get what they need.”

  “They never planned on staying here for long anyway,” said Jericho.

  “Since there doesn’t appear to be any time here, as we know it,” said Ajay, “maybe that starts with them. Maybe time doesn’t affect them.”

  “Will, the last time you talked to Dave,” said Elise, picking up Ajay’s thought, “that time I saw him with you, he told us the Makers were assembling all their forces then. That was four months ago.”

  “In our world, yes, but time is definitely funky here,” said Will. “The two places don’t sync up with each other at all somehow. That might have been a week ago here, or a day, or even the same day.”

  “Or it could all be happening at the same time,” said Ajay.

  “Whoa,” said Nick.

  “Or maybe there’s so many of these things, it took that long just to get them together,” said Jericho.

  “Whoa,” said Nick, more softly.

  “Speaking of time and space anomalies, how did Brooke even get here in the first place?” asked Elise. “I understand how Hobbes could’ve made it across; he was right there in the room with us—”

  “Yeah, but we left Brooke back at the dorm, out like a light, just before we left for the island.”

  “With enough tranquilizer in her system to keep her down and out for a day and a half,” said Jericho.

  “I don’t know the answer to that,” said Will.

  “Maybe she healed it right out of her system,” said Elise. “Maybe she was on our tail the whole time.”

  No one spoke for a moment. A more somber mood had taken firm hold. Will took a few steps away from the others, looking out past the bridge. Ajay finished scrolling through the last of the drone’s photos as it returned to the crossroads, but by then he was the only one watching them. He quietly disconnected the screen from the camera and stowed them both back in his pack.

  Jericho walked out beside Will, respecting his silence as he stared into the distance.
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  “I figure it’s kind of okay,” said Will.

  “What is?”

  “To feel like what’s in front of us is five times beyond impossible and we’re all going to die really horrible, excruciating deaths.”

  “Most definitely. You’d have to be crazy to look at it any other way.”

  “I can’t stand it, though,” said Will, glancing back at his friends. “Feeling responsible. If that’s what’s going to happen.”

  “How would you feel if you didn’t do anything?” asked Jericho. “Just pulled out the Carver, cut a hole in the air, and we all went home, called it a day.”

  Will looked at him skeptically. “We can’t do that. Not now.”

  “That makes it easy, then. The choice is already made. You just have to tolerate the feelings.”

  “But I’m scared.”

  “Me too.”

  Will studied him. “You don’t look like it.”

  “I thought you were the master of hiding your feelings.”

  “I am, sort of. I had to be.”

  “Think you’re the only one?” asked Jericho.

  “No. I just don’t feel very brave right now.”

  Jericho exhaled, almost a sigh. “Brave is just a word we put on someone after they do something the rest of us don’t think we’d be able to handle. Trust me, every one of them was plenty scared at the time. They just didn’t let it get in the way.”

  Will studied him. “So being brave doesn’t mean you’re not scared, then.”

  “It means you’re scared, and you do what you have to do in spite of it. You might want to write that one down.”

  “Sorry to interrupt.” Ajay came up behind them, hesitant to intrude. “We were just wondering, Will, since time in its own strange way appears to be of the essence…what are we going to do now?”

  Will gave another look at Jericho.

  “Saddle up,” said Will, and moved toward their mounts. “Ditch the backpacks and load all your gear in these saddlebags. How long do you think the ride to the Citadel will be?”

  “Horses are fresh,” said Jericho, walking beside him, looking off in the distance. “A few hours.”

  “But what are we going to do after…um…uh, after we get to the Citadel?” asked Ajay, trailing after them.

 

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