The Veil

by Torstein Beck

  He sped off again, heading away from the wall this time, following the road as it slowly looped back towards the wall and the E18.

  The sound of the monsters behind them had died off. They knew they couldn’t keep up on the roads and there was no hiding in the open. But Aaro knew they were still there, skulking and stalking just out of sight.

  It wasn’t long before they neared the wall once more, the road looping back in to join the E18. But it was deserted. The throng of people they’d been stuck behind was gone. Nothing moved. Are expected it to be packed with people all heading to Oslo, but it wasn’t.

  The reason they’d detoured to begin with was because of what they’d heard up ahead. But it was silent now. They’d gone around the crowd and ended up at their original destination anyway. What had happened in the meanwhile though?

  They glided down a slip road onto the E18 and stopped.

  The road was lined with buildings on either side that lay abandoned and dark. The roadway itself was wide — six lanes across with that huge wall running straight through the middle of it. The solid concrete was broken only by a steel gate that had been secured on massive hinges. It was two cars wide and on either side heavy gun turrets were set up. But that wasn’t what stopped Aaro.

  In front of the wall, it was a massacre. A sea of bodies lay bleeding and dying. Humans and Varas alike were entwined seamlessly. Belongings and vehicles of every description were overturned and cast randomly on the ground like litter. Some were smoking, some were on fire. Some were burnt out. But every one, without exception, was soaked in blood. Bullet holes plagued the asphalt. Thousands of welts that turned the smooth tarmac into a cheese grater.

  Eerie groans of dying corpses echoed in the still night air.

  The chests of the struck Varas rose and fell slowly as they clung desperately to life, their legs flailing, claws turned out like knives.

  Tall barriers either side of the road made the entire road a kill box.

  With just one exit it made it the perfect hunting arena for the Varas — but it seemed they were outmatched in the close quarters by the huge machine guns mounted on the turrets above the gate.

  That was the commotion they heard up ahead. An ambush by the creatures as people waited to get into the city. But this killing field was quiet now, for the moment at least. It’s why the Varas were cautious in following them down there. They’d seen their pack mowed down and had quickly learnt what going near the wall meant. Aaro and Sorina trundled forwards, winding carefully through the bodies.

  Lila gasped, then gagged, and then quietly sobbed into Aaro’s collar.

  They made it to the gate before he stopped again. On the surface of the steel, there were hundreds of handprints, smeared in blood. Between them were the unmistakable gouges of claws. People had travelled hundreds of kilometres to get to the city, only to be turned away and eaten at the gates. They’d all been trying to get in. The nomads to safety, the Varas to dinner.

  Neither had succeeded.

  Aaro looked solemnly at it for a moment before a loud clunk echoed from above them and they were bathed in a harsh spotlight.

  Lila and Aaro both shielded their eyes, waiting for some sort of contact, but none came.

  ‘Open the gate!’ Aaro yelled.

  There was no response.

  He knew there were people up there, behind the spotlight, but they weren’t talking back.

  ‘Open the damn gate! Let us in!’ he screamed.

  Nothing.

  Aaro made an indistinct noise and pulled the pistol from his belt. He levelled it and held it up at the light. ‘Open the fucking gate!’

  Now, someone called back. The telltale clicks and rattles of rifles being cocked and shouldered rang out. Dozens of them.

  ‘Lower your weapon!’ came a gruff call.

  ‘Open the gate!’ Aaro yelled back.

  ‘Lower your weapon or we will be forced to shoot!’ the voice came again.

  ‘Come on, it’s just the two of us! Open the gate, just enough to squeeze through!’ he pleaded now.

  ‘We can’t do that. We’re under orders to keep this gate sealed until further notice. There’s too much activity out there. We can’t risk a breach!’ came the same stern and obedient voice.

  ‘So you’re just going to let us die out here?!’

  There was silence again.

  After a few seconds, a shuffling filtered down to them, like a tussle — two people having a hushed argument. Fragments of words and nothing more reached their ears. They were blinded by the light and could only wait.

  Suddenly, an angry voice rang out, the same gruff one from before, except this time, it wasn’t speaking to them. ‘Stand down, Private! Lower that before I have you court-martialed for insubordination! We are under orders and we will obey the chain of command!’

  ‘He’s going to die out there!’ came another voice. The one of the person he was arguing with.

  ‘It’s not our duty to save lives, our duty is to protect this gate, and that’s what we’re going to do!’

  ‘That’s bullshit! I’m not letting him die out there!’

  ‘Stand down, private!’

  ‘Let go of me!’ came the second voice.

  A fight was breaking out.

  Suddenly, a third voice rang through the shouts. It wasn’t weighing in on the argument though. It was much worse than that.

  ‘Contact!’ came the battle cry. The argument immediately ceased and a team of searchlights flashed to life and began combing the far side of the killing field. Aaro looked past Lila and saw what they were looking for.

  They’d been shaken by the failure of their first attack, but now with numbers, the Varas were emerging from the shadows like floodwater, surging forward in a foaming, seething mass.

  They were about to launch another onslaught, with only Aaro and Lila standing between them and the gate.

  The pair were locked in place as the storm began. It started with a few warning shouts and then erupted in fierce yelling and a hell storm of bullets.

  The machine guns went off all at once, raining down onto the ground and the beasts. The screams of surprise and anguish from the monsters rang amongst the clatter of fire. The ground shook under the stampede of clawed feet and lead as the monsters writhed over each other, trying to avoid the bullets.

  The gunfire formed a wide arc around the gate, keeping them at bay. But with every passing second, they encroached, determined and half-starved. The circle of fire closed like a noose.

  Aaro squinted into the flashing of the muzzles, sure now that their plea would go unheard. Lila clutched at his back with her elbows, her hands clamped to her ears.

  Aaro blinked and the noise of the guns seem to fade to a distance ring in his ears, a faraway bell in the darkness. The scene was surreal. A curtain of golden fire separated them and him. If that curtain dropped, even for a second, even for a reload, they’d be on him and Lila, and they’d both be torn to shreds.

  It seemed now like a matter of when, not if.

  The gate was locked, the soldiers preoccupied and the only exit was totally blocked by the very thing they had barely survived so far.

  He hung his head and sucked in a slow breath. The acceptance came and the fear drained away. He turned a little and looked at Lila. She had her eyes tight shut, shying away from the noise and the muzzle flash.

  ‘Hey,’ he whispered, leaning his head back towards her.

  She opened her eyes a little, her cheeks wet with tears.

  ‘It’s ok,’ Aaro said.

  She widened them, unsure what he meant.

  ‘This was inevitable. It really was… but… thank you.’

  ‘Thank you?’ Lila whispered back.

  ‘For saving me.’ He smiled.

  ‘I didn’t save you — you saved me.’

  He shook his head and a soft look moved over his face. ‘No. Before we got to the camp yesterday, I’d given up. You kept me going. You showed me kindness when I didn’t think
there was any left in this world.’

  She blushed a little, the light of the guns dancing in the tears on her cheeks. ‘I’m just glad I’m not alone — for the end, I mean,’ she eventually said, the sadness becoming acceptance, harmonising with his.

  ‘Me too. I don’t know if it means anything but, Lila, I’d have been so proud if my daughter had grown up to be like you,’ he said, his voice cracking.

  ‘Aaro,’ she smiled, breaking his heart. ‘That’s so… Wait.’

  ‘Wait?’ Aaro said, a little taken aback.

  ‘What the hell is that!?’ she shouted, throwing her hand over Aaro’s head.

  He wheeled around on the bike and followed her finger.

  There, hanging over the wall was a rope. It was thick and knotted untidily. It wasn’t there a moment ago and must have been tossed over during the fray. Whoever was arguing on their behalf had taken the opportunity and thrown them a lifeline.

  They looked at each other for a split second before dismounting the bike in unison. Aaro dropped it and it clanked loudly to the floor and cut out. It didn’t matter. In a minute or two it would be buried beneath a sea of blood and claws.

  They dashed to the wall and took a breath beneath the rope. It hung overhead just low enough for Aaro to grab, but he wasn’t going first.

  He didn’t ask for permission before he knelt and picked Lila up by the thighs. He threw her upwards into the air, her legs scrambling on the sheer steel of the gate. She reached out and snatched at the bottom knot. She yelped in shock as her hand slipped, her other just getting purchase before she fell. Aaro stood beneath, ready to catch her if she fell, but she didn’t.

  If she had, he doubted he would have had enough time ot strength to throw her again and then go himself. He stole a glance behind and regretted it.

  They were close. Really close. A single break in the fire and they’d be on him. He could feel them watching him through the wall of bullets, waiting for their opportunity to strike.

  He tore his eyes away and looked up. Lila was slowly hauling her way up the rope.

  Come on!

  Her heels cleared the bottom knot. Yes. Move. Come on. Faster.

  He checked over his shoulder again. Five meters. Shit. Striking distance now. They were cocooned in the fire — a shrinking little bubble that seemed to close with every passing moment. They’d be at the gate in a second and in two they’d be sinking their teeth into his flesh.

  He looked up and broke into a desperate grin. He took one step and pushed off the gate, kicking upwards towards the rope. He snatched at it and it held. He swung around on one hand, dangling almost a meter and a half from the floor. His shoulder ached as he pulled his other hand up. Lila was already ahead, her feet planted on the wall. As such the rope dangled away from the surface.

  It swung wildly under his weight and Lila called out in surprise as it was pulled from her hands. She clung on and they both swung into the steel with a clang.

  Aaro swore loudly. ‘Are you ok?’ he yelled up to her.

  ‘Yeah,’ she called, voice strained. ‘I’m ok — my wrist — but I’m ok.’

  Aaro looked down, his worst fears realised. Below him, the noose had snapped tight. Beyond the range of the machine guns, beneath their field of motion, right against the gates now, the Varas sloshed back and forth like an ocean. Aaro pulled his legs up and clamped his knees to his chest. He took the rope around his wrist and locked it there. Lila was still stationary up ahead but he was no more than three metres off the ground. The Varas were in a pile, scrambling over each other to get away from the bullets. It would be seconds before one steadied itself enough to take a swipe at him. And he was well within their range.

  ‘Climb!’ he yelled to Lila, hauling himself upwards.

  ‘I can’t!’ she screamed back. ‘I’m slipping!’

  ‘Don’t you fucking dare!’ He put hand over hand with strength he didn’t know he had left and reached level with her legs.

  ‘The rope is swinging, I can’t do it!’ she cried, hugging the line.

  Aaro growled. Fear of her falling fuelled him, filling him with anger. They’d come so far. They were so close. ‘You have to move! Shit!’ he yelped as the talons of a Vara struck the steel gate just to the right of his ankle.

  ‘Bastard!’ he shouted angrily, hooking his foot around the rope. He drew the pistol from his belt and pointed it between his feet, fighting the sway with his arm. Below, they’d noticed how close he was and began to jump. He steadied the barrel and fired between his feet. Three loud cracks rang out and the Varas below flinched in shock before returning. The bullets seemed to be swallowed up in the mass of black fur. He didn’t know if he was even hitting them, let alone hurting them.

  ‘Lila, you’ve got to move! I’m dead-meat down here!’ He pumped off two more rounds to a chorus of hisses and growls below.

  ‘I can’t!’

  ‘If you don’t we’re both going to die!’

  ‘I can’t do it! I’m not strong enough—’

  ‘Yes you are!’

  ‘I’m not, I’m not!’ she sobbed.

  With a determined grunt, he wedged the pistol into his belt and unhooked his foot. The hot barrel burnt his back but he didn’t even feel it.

  ‘Hold on!’ He spat through gritted teeth, dragging himself upwards. ‘Hang on. I’m going to go ahead and pull you up!’

  ‘Stop! The rope is shaking!’ she shrieked.

  ‘We can’t stop now, we’re so close!’ he called, surging upwards.

  ‘I’m slipping!’

  ‘Just hold on!’

  ‘I can’t!’

  ‘Lila!’

  ‘Aaro!’

  And then she slipped.

  In slow motion he watched the rope slide through her fingers.

  They snatched at the air as she tumbled backwards.

  He was almost level with her.

  Another ten seconds and they would have been safe.

  He stretched out, right hand locked around the rope like a vice, left hand screaming out for her — for her hand, her arm, her jacket — for anything.

  He strained and the rope bucked wildly, crushing his wrist. His other hand hit something solid and clamped down.

  He had her by the sleeve of her coat and as she fell, the material snapped tight. His shoulder popped loudly as the weight pulled it clean out of the socket.

  He howled in pain as she swung hard into the wall. She impacted with a loud crack and hung limply.

  ‘Lila!’ He screamed. ‘Lila!’

  But she didn’t reply.

  She hung like a corpse, dead weight in his hand.

  His fingers clung to the fabric but he couldn’t hold her.

  He called out for her again but she made no sound. His eyes snapped shut in pain and he blinked them open, bleeding tears. He stared down at her, spikes of pain stabbing through his body from both shoulders and hands. His brain roared at him to let go but he couldn’t, not after all this. He watched in horror as the Varas circled below like sharks. It was sick.

  He felt sick.

  ‘Lila!’ he called out, more meekly this time, streaks of black pulsing in his field of vision.

  And then he saw it. On her pale, angelic face. Her ashen hair clung to her head, matted in blood. Droplets ran down her cheeks and off her chin, staining her clothes. The crack he’d heard had been her head hitting the wall. He didn’t know if she was unconscious or dead. But she just hung there, lifeless all the same.

  ‘Wake up!’ he cried.

  But she didn’t.

  The Varas grew impatient and began to leap at her ankles.

  ‘Leave her alone!; he grumbled, his grip loosening. The streaks of black got longer and wider, the pulsing slower. His heart thrummed in his ears like jungle drums counting down to a feast.

  The images played out in his head before they happened. He’d let go, and then watch her be torn apart, and then his shoulder would give out and he’d join her. He’d probably still be conscious a
s they tore the flesh from him.

  A wave of nausea rolled through him and he blinked heavily.

  It was happening.

  He looked down at Lila once more, her face serene and peaceful, drenched in blood. And then she was gone.

  A lone Vara reared up like a crocodile and locked on to her leg.

  The bones crunched in its jaws and she was ripped from his grasp.

  For a second, she sank into the abyss, still visible. Still within reach.

  But then, she hit the surface and was pulled under in the vicious riptide.

  They growled and barked at each other like hounds as she was divided into chunks. Trails of hair, clothing and skin were strewn into the air like confetti.

  ‘No…’ he whispered, fighting back the darkness. ‘Lila…’

  But she was already gone.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  PLAYING GOD

  2106 AD

  The entire place was a madhouse.

  Trying to get in was the most difficult experience of Gertlinger’s life.

  He’d been searched three times, been through four x-ray scanners, five metal detectors, had his shoes removed twice, been threatened with a cavity search once, and after answering facetiously to the question, ‘Are you concealing anything we should know about?’ with his answer being, ‘Why don’t you come over here and find out?’, came very close to having one. He’d also had two sniffer dogs acquaint themselves with him in the most intimate of ways. But finally, after an ordeal of security checkpoints, he found himself on plush carpets, surrounded by walls full of gold-framed portraits and high ceilings supporting chandeliers.

  Gertlinger was, in his current location, about three weeks ahead of where the Varas were — in Washington DC. He’d spent the morning in McPherson’s office and was now in the foyer just outside the Oval Office. At the White House.

  He sat quietly and looked at his knees. He was late for his appointment due to the forty-five-minute brush with security, but if all of the President’s guests underwent such stringent inspections, then they would all be equally as late and therefore the schedule would be kept, albeit an hour after time.

  He checked his watch. It was almost three o’clock.