by Kevin Brooks
It was the kind of glass vial thats used for medicines – no more than half an inch wide, and with a cork stopper – and it was about half filled with a clear liquid.
I dont get it, Chola Se said. What is it?
I picked up the vial, held it up to the light for a moment, then very carefully pulled out the cork stopper. The smell hit us almost immediately – a strong chemical odor, gaseous and acrid – and Chola Ses reaction was instant. Her mouth fell open, the color drained from her face, and her eyes stilled with a look of horrified realization.
I remember it, she whispered, her voice frail with shock. That smell---She raised her eyes and gazed emptily out of the window, desperately trying to remember more. I still cant get hold of it, Jeet, she said, shaking her head. All I can remember is that burning stink in the back of my throat when I woke up in the dungeon that night.
Pilgrim drugged you, I said, staring at the liquid in the vial. He gave you some of this.
She just stared at me.
He drugged Yael to get him out of the way and frame him, I told her, then he drugged you, got you out of town somehow, and handed you over to the Dau.
Why?
I dont know.
How did he drug me? How did he get the liquid into me without me knowing?
I dont know that either.
What about the babies and Aliaj and Berch---?
I dont know, Chola, I said. The only thing I know for sure is that Starry thought Pilgrim was behind your abduction, and he went after him looking for proof. And this – I held up the blueglass bottle – this is what he found. I dont know where he found it, or if he had anything else on Pilgrim, but Pilgrim obviously caught him in the act – although not before Starry had time to hide the bottle – and once the Deputy realized that Starry knew everything, he must have decided he had to get rid of him.
But why didnt he just kill him? Why go to all the lengths of staging his death to look like an eel attack? He must have known wede suspect it was him.
He wants us to know it was him. He knows we cant prove it, and thats the whole point. He wants us to know that he can kill people at will and get away with it.
Do you think Kite helped him?
I nodded. He couldnt have done it all on his own. He had to keep Starry subdued while he worked out what to do with him---he had to get hold of a fishing pole from somewhere, get Starry to the beach---I swallowed hard and cleared my throat. Then one of them would have had to stand guard, watching out for eels, while the other one killed Starry and chopped off his hand---and after that they would have had to set up his body, leaving it like bait, and wait for an eel to come out and take it, then fire the shotgun to alert me---
I stopped then.
Tears were streaming down my face.
I couldnt go on anymore.
I was still lying on the bed when the sky outside started fading to gray and a cool evening breeze began drifting in through the open shutters. Chola Se had laid with me for a while – comforting me while I cried, then holding me in her arms until Ide fallen asleep – but now she was back at the foot of the bed again, her eyes on the door, the shotgun in her lap.
I hadnt slept very long – an hour or so at the most – and I hadnt got much rest. My dreaming mind kept taking me to places I didnt want to be. In the last few hours though Ide gradually settled down into a semiconscious state that was somewhere between sleeping and not sleeping – a twilight world with no dreams and no reality, where all I had to do was lie there and breathe and let time pass by.
It was a good enough place to be, safe and uncomplicated, and it would have been easy to stay there forever, but I knew that I couldnt. There were things that had to be done.
When Chola Se stood up and went over to the window to close the shutters, I breathed in deeply – preparing myself for the return to reality – and sat up straight on the bed. Chola Se turned at the sound of my movement.
Sorry, she said, I didnt mean to wake you.
Its all right, I told her. I wasnt asleep.
As she turned back to the shutters to finish closing them, I got up off the bed and stretched the stiffness from my back. My body felt numb, slowed, too heavy. I ran my fingers through my hair (forgetting for a moment that it wasnt long anymore), rubbed the sleep from my eyes, then sat down on the edge of the bed.
You know I cant leave now, dont you? I said to Chola Se.
She turned and looked at me.
I still want to, I told her, and Ime still going to. But I have to stay here and deal with Pilgrim first.
What do you mean – deal with him?
I dont know yet.
She came over and sat down beside me.
You can still go, I said to her. Ile help you get out tonight, if you want. Then Ile join you as soon as I can. I dont know how long its going to take —
Weare dogs, arent we? she said.
What do you mean?
She took hold of my hand. Look at me, Jeet.
I looked at her.
Weare dogs, she said simply. Dogs pair for life. That means weare one now. Do you understand? Weare one and the same thing. We live together, fight together, die together. So whatever you have to do, Jeet, and however long it takes, we do it together.
Half an hour later, after Ide been downstairs and found us something to eat – a few scraps of bread and some dried meat – and wede sat together in our room and quietly filled our empty bellies, we were resting on the bed again, comfortable in our silence, when we heard the sound of bootsteps coming up the stairs.
We both froze, listening hard.
Sounds like 2 of them, Chola Se whispered.
I nodded. One of them sounds familiar.
She looked at me.
Theyre on the landing now, I said, getting up and drawing my knife. Cover the door. Make sure its locked.
As Chola Se went over and checked the door, I quickly pocketed the blueglass bottle then picked up Starrys crutch and fixed the 2 parts back together again. I was just leaning it against the wall when the bootsteps stopped outside the door. Everything went silent and still for a moment. I stood there, motionless, gripping my knife. Chola Se stayed by the door, her back against the wall, shotgun at the ready. The silence hung in the air, waiting. And then it broke, and the stillness crashed, as a heavy fist hammered twice on the door.
Who is it? I called out.
Deputy Pilgrim.
What do you want?
Open the door, Jeet.
What do you want? I repeated.
Silence. I heard him muttering something, then a mumbled reply from the other one. Then Pilgrim called out again.
I just want to talk, Jeet, okay?
I looked at Chola Se, asking her what she thought.
She shrugged, as lost for an answer as me.
I stared at the door, thinking things through, and it suddenly dawned on me that the answer was obvious. We either stayed in here and kept hiding away from Pilgrim, or we opened the door and faced up to him.
I stepped forward, unlocked the door, and cautiously inched it open. Pilgrim was standing there with Captain Glorian. Pilgrim, as always, was armed with his twin Colts and his MP40 submachine gun – which was slung over his shoulder – and Glorian was carrying the same rifle hede slammed into my belly at the beach, a big old bolt-action Mauser.
You can come in, I said to Pilgrim, glancing at Glorian. But not him.
You dont need to worry about the Captain, Pilgrim said. Hese not going to —
Ime not worried about him. Ime just telling you hese not coming in. Its either you on your own or nothing.
They both just stood there staring at me – Pilgrim thoughtfully, Glorian with a look of disdain – then after a few seconds, Pilgrim shrugged and turned to Glorian.
Wait here, he told him.
Glorian nodded, still staring at me.
I stepped back and opened the door.
As Pilgrim came in, Chola Se kept her eyes on Glorian, ready to act if he tried anything
. I was wary of the big man too, remembering how fast hede moved at the beach, and as soon as Pilgrim was through the doorway I closed the door behind him – shutting it in Glorians face – and locked it again.
When I turned back from the door, Pilgrim was standing in the middle of the room, facing Chola Se. Shede stepped away from the wall now and was holding the shotgun at her hip, with the barrels aimed at Pilgrims belly and her finger resting on the trigger.
Youre not going to need that, he said to her, trying to sound casual but at the same time glancing nervously at her trigger finger. Why dont you put it down, eh? Or at least take your finger off —
Shut up, she told him. Sit down over there.
The nervousness left his eyes then, replaced by a sudden flash of anger which almost immediately turned to contempt.
You know youre both dead if anything happens to me, dont you? he said. You wont last 5 minutes.
That will be 5 minutes longer than you though, wont it? Chola Se replied.
He nodded slowly, allowing himself a smile, then began backing over to a chair against the wall. We both waited until hede lowered himself into the chair – watching him very carefully as he removed his MP40 and slowly rested it in his lap – then we moved across the room towards him. I sat down on the edge of the bed, directly in front of him, while Chola Se stood by the wall about 6 feet to his right. I still had my knife in my hand, and Chola Se was still covering him with her shotgun, so if he tried anything – no matter how fast he moved – at least one of us should get him.
As he settled himself into the chair, crossing his legs and leaning back to show us he wasnt intimidated, I saw his eyes flick downwards, drawn to something on the floor by the bed. I followed his gaze and saw the leather casing from Starrys crutch, and I silently cursed myself for forgetting it. When I looked back at Pilgrim, I caught him glancing across at the far wall where Ide leaned the crutch, before quickly turning his attention back to me. There was nothing in his face to tell if hede worked out the significance of the leather casing or not, but there was just something about him – a feeling, a sense – that he knew. He knew wede found the vial. And if he knew that, then he had to know – if he didnt before – that we probably knew everything else.
What do you want? I said to him.
He glanced at the knife in my hand. Ide feel a lot happier if you put that away.
Ile put it away if you give me your Colts and your MP40. Hows that?
He said nothing, just smiled.
Right, I said, Ile ask you again. What do you want?
He didnt answer immediately, and I got the feeling that he was forcing himself not to react to the way I was treating him – telling himself to stay calm, ignore the disrespect, dont rise to the bait, just do what you have to do. I watched as he lowered his eyes for a few seconds, composing himself, then he sat up straight, sniffed hard, and looked me straight in the eye.
Whatevers going on here, Jeet, he said solemnly, it needs to stop. And it needs to stop right now. The battles just a few days away, and unless we all pull together and do whatevers necessary to ensure our victory, weare all going to end up dead. You know that, dont you? We cant lose this fight. We have to succeed. Its the only thing that matters. Everything else – our feelings and desires, our own personal battles – its all utterly meaningless. Do you understand what Ime saying? Both of you?
He glanced over at Chola Se, then turned back to me.
Whatever differences any of us may have, he continued, we cant afford to let them endanger our survival. If we arent fully committed to this fight, the Dau will destroy us. And when the streets are running red with blood, where will our differences be then?
He stared sternly at both of us in turn – taking his time, stretching out the silence – then he leaned forward in his chair until his face was inches from mine.
Theres been enough death, Jeet, he said quietly. Theres no need for anymore.
He carried on staring at me in silence for some time, until eventually – with a very slight nod of his head – he broke his gaze and slowly sat back in the chair.
I glanced across at Chola Se. She hadnt moved. She was still standing there, still covering Pilgrim with the shotgun, utterly unmoved by his words.
I turned back to him.
Is that it? I said. Is that what you came here to tell us?
Youd do well to listen to me, Jeet, he said, staring calmly into my eyes. Youle be sorry if you dont.
Is that a threat?
Its what will be.
Its the early hours of Friday morning now. Its still dark outside, the sun yet to rise, and Ime sitting in bed writing this in the low light of a candle. Chola Se is sleeping soundly beside me – her head resting on her hands, her knees drawn up to her chest, breathing the breath of sleep. A while ago I had to wake her from a nightmare. It had started as a dream, a doglike reverie of twitching legs and quiet yelps, but it had quickly deteriorated into a crazed panic of desperate jerks and stifled sobs, and Ide had to wake her as gently as possible and hold her in my arms until she stopped shaking, and eventually shede drifted off back to sleep.
Ive been wide awake since then.
My head spinning with too many thoughts.
Unwanted thoughts, memories, pictures I dont want to see.
Unanswered questions.
Pilgrim?
I cant think about him anymore. Ive thought him to death. And I still dont have any answers.
I need to clear my head.
I know what I need.
I need to go fishing with Starry. I need to get up at the crack of dawn and walk the empty streets with him, like I used to when I was a child – carrying our fishing poles together, side by side, heading down to the beach---clambering up onto the old sea wall as the day begins to break, the pink light glinting through the early-morning haze---casting our lines, the silver threads twinkling as they disappear into the mist---
I need to just sit on the wall with him and fish.
We dont have to talk. Weve got the rest of forever to talk. For now all we need is to be together.
I cant actually do it, of course. I cant leave Chola Se on her own. And if I took her with me, I wouldnt be alone with Starry. But I can go fishing with him in my mind. I can go wherever I want in my mind. And thats where Ime going now. Ime going to put down my pencil and close my eyes and spend a long morning sitting on the sea wall with Starry.
Friday morning.
The day after Starrys death.
The first day of life without him.
By the time the morning sun was high in the sky – the burning white light slicing in through the shutters – Chola Se and I had already been talking for hours. Wede woken together at the break of dawn, and we were still sitting in bed now, still trying to work out what to do.
We knew that Gun Sur would dismiss our accusations against Pilgrim, and we knew there was nothing we could do to make the Marshal believe us. It wasnt enough that we knew – without doubt – that Pilgrim was guilty of murder and rape and corruption (and possibly treason), we had to be able to prove it, and prove it beyond question. And we couldnt. The only evidence we had was circumstantial at best – a couple of partial bootprints (which probably werent even there anymore), the wrong kind of fishing rod, a vial of clear liquid which could be anything and could have come from anywhere---
It was all useless.
None of it proved anything.
All we had was our belief, our feelings, our personal experience of what Pilgrim had said and done---and none of it meant a thing. It would be our word against his. The word of 2 dogchilds – whode soon be deemed criminals – against the word of Deputy Pilgrim, the Marshals trusted second-in-command.
It wasnt hard to guess who Gun Sur would believe.
So what was the point of taking our accusations to him? What purpose would it serve? All wede be doing was wasting our time, and wasting the Marshals time, and possibly turning him against us---
Hese not going to appre
ciate it, is he? Chola Se said. I mean, I dont think he actually likes Pilgrim that much, but hese going to like us even less if he thinks weare making up stories about his Deputy, especially now, just a couple of days before the battle. Even if he believes us – which he wont – the last thing he wants right now is another problem to deal with.
Hele have a much bigger problem to deal with if we lose the war because we didnt tell him about Pilgrim.
But hese not going to listen to us, is he? So it wont make any difference.
We still have to try.
Why?
I dont know, I said, looking at her. I just think---
What?
I sighed. I dont know, Chola. I dont know what I think anymore. I just---I just dont know. Everything feels wrong. I dont know what to do.
She put her arms round me then, and for a while we just sat there together – not saying anything – just holding each other in the silence.
It doesnt matter, does it? Chola Se said eventually, letting go of me and getting up off the bed.
What do you mean?
She went over to the window and opened the shutters. The light surged in, filling the room with a rush of white heat.
It doesnt matter what Gun Sur thinks, Chola Se said. If he believes us or not, if he likes us or not---it doesnt make any difference in the end. It wont change anything.
It might, I said. It might change everything.
Yeh, but not us, she said, turning from the window and smiling at me. It wont change us, will it? Nothing can change us.
Friday morning.
The first day of just the 2 of us.
Everything seemed to be floating as we walked across town to the Quarterhouse – the streets, the buildings, the people, the light---everything seemed weightless and slow, hushed, stilled, not bound to anything – and everywhere we went there was an uneasy sense of expectancy hanging heavily in the air. It was as if everyone was just waiting now, waiting for the final battle. They all knew it was coming, the armies gathering on the horizon, but that was all that most of them knew. They didnt know how it was going to be, or why it was coming now---they didnt know when it was going to be, or where, or why they were being kept in the dark about it---and because they didnt know anything about the battle, they had no way of knowing if they had any chance of surviving it. All they knew was that it was going to be everything – it already was everything – and to them its everythingness overshadowed everything else---
