by Kevin Brooks
We worked slowly and steadily – inspecting each weapon to make sure it was clean and in good working order, making sure Crukes pistols were fully loaded, reloading the Beretta, filling our pockets and Cholas bandolier with ammunition – and once wede done all that, I spent another 20 minutes cleaning and sharpening my knife.
Juddah was nowhere to be seen now. Hede retreated into the farthest reaches of his cage a short while ago when Gilder had left the attic to fetch some supplies from downstairs, and although I kept looking over to see if he was watching us, there was no sign of him at all.
As I carefully honed the blade of my knife – using a small piece of quartz that Starry had given to me years ago – I found myself thinking back to the day Ide bumped into Chola Se on my way to the Olders Home. It seemed like a lifetime ago now – and I suppose, in a way, it was. The only things worrying me then had been the account – and whether or not I could actually write it – and what kinds of questions I should ask the Olders. In fact, I was so busy thinking about what I was going to ask them that I wasnt watching where I was going, which was why Ide turned the corner into Main Street and walked straight into Chola Se.
The moment came back to me then – I could feel it, hear it, see it. The impact of the collision knocking the writing book out of my hand---apologizing as I stooped down to pick up the book – Sorry. I wasnt looking. Are you all right? – then freezing at the sound of her voice – Ime fine – and feeling a strange tingling sensation in my belly, a feeling Ide never experienced before---then straightening up and looking at her, and the sight of her taking my breath away---her sad-looking woodbrown eyes, her shaggy mop of soft black hair, her slightly crooked mouth---her black smock, her black moccasins, her necklace, the long thin-bladed knife tucked into her belt---
I stopped cleaning my blade and turned to her.
What happened to your knife? I said.
What?
Your knife---the stiletto you kept in your belt.
I lost it on the night I was taken. I dont know if Pilgrim took it or the Dau, or if I just dropped it somewhere---She shrugged. Its a shame. I really liked that knife.
Yeh, me too. Are you going to get another one?
I dont know, she said, smiling at me. I think Ile wait to see how the battle goes first---
Oh, yeh. Ide forgotten about that.
And besides, she added, patting the shotgun in her lap, Ive grown quite attached to this now.
Its not the same as your knife though, is it?
No, she agreed. But we wouldnt be here without it, would we?
Thats true.
I suddenly remembered something then, and I started searching through my pockets until eventually I found the pearlhandled switchblade Ide taken from Sweet.
Its nowhere near as nice as yours, I said, passing it over to Chola Se, but you might as well have it.
Thanks, she said, taking the knife.
She examined it for a while – running her finger along the smooth white handle, nodding contentedly at the feel of it, then trying out the switchblade itself, flicking the button, snapping the blade in and out – and then we both looked up as the attic door opened and Gilder came in carrying a box of supplies – bread, nuts, meat, milk, potatoes. She smiled at us and carried on over to a small kitchen area in the corner of the room. As she started emptying the box and putting things away, Chola Se turned to me and spoke quietly.
What are we going to do, Jeet? she said. Weare not staying here, are we?
I shook my head. I dont know---
Cruke shouldnt have asked us. He had no right.
He saved our lives.
I know, but that doesnt mean he can tell us what to do, does it? We shouldnt be in his debt just because he helped us. Thats not how it works.
It is for him.
Weare not him though, are we? Weare us. And we should do whats right for us, not for anyone else.
I nodded. So what do you want to do? What do you thinks right for us?
She looked at me for a moment, then sighed. I dont know. I just---I dont want to be here anymore. She gazed over towards the window. I want to be out there---
In town?
No, I mean the Deathlands. I want to be out in the Deathlands. She turned back to me. We cant be here anymore, Jeet. Whatever happens---we dont belong in this world.
What about Pilgrim?
What about him?
Last time we talked about running away to the Deathlands, you said you couldnt do it because Pilgrim was always in your head---always hurting and humiliating you---you said you couldnt run away from that.
I know.
Thats why we had to kill him.
I know.
Do you think you can run away from it now?
She stared at me for a long time before answering, and when she did finally speak there was so much pain in her eyes that I wished Ide never asked the question in the first place.
I dont know, Jeet, she whispered. I just---I dont know what I want anymore.
We slept again for another hour or so, and when we woke up we found a pair of binoculars on the chair next to Chola Se. As she picked them up and looked around, wondering where theyd come from, we heard Gilder calling out to us from the kitchen.
Theyre Crukes, she said. I thought you might want to see whats going on outside. She glanced over at the little window in the north wall. Ive opened the shutters for you. Theres a fairly good view from there. You can see most of the town and all across to the wall. She smiled at us. You dont have to look out if you dont want to, of course. I just thought---well, you know---if you do---
Yeh, thanks, I told her.
Are you okay? Chola Se asked her. Is there anything we can do to help?
She smiled again, trying to show us that she was fine, that she could cope without Cruke, that she was used to him going off to fight and not knowing if hede come back in one piece, or come back at all---but her smile couldnt hide the truth. And the truth was that she knew this was different. Cruke had said it himself – this was the big one, all or nothing. And Cruke wasnt even a Fighter anymore, he was an old man. And if that wasnt enough, there was Juddah to think about too---
Of course she wasnt okay.
No, Ime fine, thank you, she said. Are you feeling better now that youve slept?
Yeh, a lot better, thanks.
Good---well, Ide better get on. Theres plenty of food and drink here if you want anything. Just help yourselves, all right?
We thanked her again, then Chola Se picked up the binoculars and we went over to the window.
The view was as good as Gilder had said. We were high enough up that even without the binoculars I could see most of the town spread out down below. I could see most of the wall too, and as I gazed out at the familiar crescent shape with its 5 towering turrets, it was hard to believe that in a few hours time that massive block of solid stone – which had guarded us from the Dau for so many years – would be deliberately blown apart to let our eternal enemy come streaming in. But the sun was already beginning to sink down towards the horizon now – the evening sky a haze of blue and orange-red – and nothing was going to stop it. The night was coming, and when it came the thunder would roar and the wall would come crashing down.
And then thered be blood.
It was coming.
The town was busy but surprisingly quiet. Everywhere I looked there were Fighters and civilians preparing for battle – scurrying around, moving into their positions, checking the explosives, building barricades – but although a few shouts were echoing around now and then – Fighters barking out orders – and I could hear the occasional short burst of running boots, there was a strangely muted feel to the air, an unnatural hush, as if the town itself knew what was coming and was waiting in silence for the onslaught.
Do you think theyle bring out the truck? Chola Se said without taking her eyes from the binoculars.
Theres no point. The Dau wont be able to see it if theyre all behind the wall, so bring
ing it out would just be a waste of manpower. Have you seen Pilgrim yet?
No.
What about Kite and Glorian?
No sign of Kite, but I saw Glorian going into the Quarterhouse just now. Luca seems to be the one doing most of the work out there.
Have you seen Cruke?
She nodded. Hese with a group of civilians over on Eastside at the moment, handing out weapons and getting them into position.
She lowered the binoculars and looked over at the wall, peering thoughtfully at the towers.
What is it? I asked.
I cant see any guards, she said, putting the glasses back to her eyes.
Pilgrim told Hensch hede take care of them, I reminded her.
Yeh, I know. It still seems a bit odd though.
Why?
I dont know---it just doesnt feel right.
Weve never seen the towers without guards before, I said, studying the empty guard posts myself now. Its bound to feel strange, I suppose. Can I have a look with the binoculars?
She passed me the glasses and I put them to my eyes and scanned the towers, one by one. She was right, there was no sign at all of any guards, not even a hint of a hidden presence.
I dont think theres anything to worry about, I said. I know it doesnt feel right, but the plan depends on the Dau believing that the guards have been taken out, and theyre going to be watching the towers as closely as us. If they see anyone hiding up there, or any sign at all that Pilgrim lied to them, theyle call off the attack.
Chola Se nodded, but I could tell she still felt unsettled. There was something about the towers that instinctively bothered her, and although my explanation made perfect sense, I didnt blame her for not being convinced. It hadnt convinced me either. There was a wrongness to the towers that defied explanation.
I spent the next 15 minutes scanning the town through the binoculars, searching for anything at all that might give us a clue as to what Pilgrim was planning – anything out of place, anything not quite right, anything that shouldnt have been there, or should have been there but wasnt---anything that just felt wrong.
I focused on the wall, picking out the rows of laboriously drilled holes where the TNT had been planted, and the dozens of fuse cables streaming down the wall and running along the open ground before disappearing into a low-roofed stone blockhouse on the edge of town, where I assumed the cables would be joined together and connected to one or more of the detonators. As I studied the blockhouse I noticed a Fighter standing beside the entrance, and as I focused on his face I saw him looking across to the east of town and raising his hand. When I lowered the binoculars and gazed in the direction he was waving, I saw another Fighter waving back at him from the roof of a building on the outskirts of Eastside. This Fighter then turned round and waved again, and as I looked farther to the east I saw a third Fighter – a young woman called Ysabel – positioned outside the storehouse, signaling back. And when I put the binoculars back to my eyes, I was just in time to see her opening the storehouse doors and calling out to someone inside.
It didnt take long to realize that what Ide just seen was the signaling system that had been put in place to synchronize the 2 separate explosions. Once the first explosion had blasted a hole in the wall, and the Dau had begun streaming in, someone in the blockhouse would give the order to blow the cavern roof a few seconds before the Dau were in the optimum position – that is, when the majority of them were directly above the cavern. The signal would be passed from the blockhouse to the storehouse by the Fighters Ide just seen practicing the process, and moments later the detonator would be triggered – presumably by someone inside the tunnel – bringing down the cavern roof and hopefully most of the Dau.
I focused the binoculars on the area in front of the wall between the Central and East Towers – the area which covered the underground cavern – and as I imagined the massive chamber below, picturing its dimensions, I scanned the open ground for any sign of the explosives that had been rigged to blow off the roof and open up the great black chasm that would send the Dau to their graves.
The ground showed no sign at all of what lay below. There was nothing amiss, nothing out of place, nothing wrong.
I couldnt find anything wrong anywhere else either.
I searched every inch of the town that was visible from the window – the Quarterhouse, the Square, Long Avenue, Main Street---the storehouse, the ruins, most of the Beach Road and the upper edge of the beach. I examined all the battle preparations – the barricades, the gun posts, the newly dug trenches, the hundreds of unlit torches positioned all around town – and I studied the faces of everyone I saw – every Fighter, every Worker, every Younger---Muqatil, Ovan, Tomas, Diedle, Van Hesse, Jemelata---Ghauri, Luca, Doctor Shiva---I studied their expressions, their postures, the way they walked, the way they looked at each other, the way they breathed---but the only wrongness I saw in them was the natural wrongness of what they were, the wrongness of being human.
I dont hate them for it, not anymore. Hating humans for what they are is as pointless as hating dogs for what they are. Their wrongness, our wrongness, is beyond judgment.
It just is.
The sun was almost down now, its dying red light still burning low in the sky, and the town was beginning to fade into the bluegray dimness of dusk. The torches were still unlit, and I guessed theyd stay that way until they were needed. When the wall came down and the Dau came storming in, the torches would be lit, the ground would roar, and the guns would open fire.
I lowered the binoculars and rubbed my eyes.
Anything? Chola Se said.
I shook my head.
Here, she said, holding out her hand, let me have another look.
I passed her the binoculars and moved away from the window so she could look out without being too crowded. As I sat down on the floor and leaned back against the wall, I was surprised to realize how dark the attic had become. There was very little light coming in through the skylights now, and Chola Se was blocking out most of the remaining daylight from the window.
We cant light any candles, Ime afraid, Gilder said to me from the kitchen across the attic, noticing my slight puzzlement. No one can know theres anyone up here.
Yeh, of course, I said.
Juddah sees very well in the dark.
I smiled. So do we.
I thought you might.
She went quiet for a few moments then, staring down at the bowl she had in her hands, toying nervously with it as she thought about something. Then, without looking up, she said, Ive often wondered why---
Why what?
Juddahs nightvision, and yours---why is it so well developed? I mean, its not a physical thing, is it? Your eyes are no different than mine. You werent born with better nightvision than me, were you?
I asked Starry the same thing once, I told her. His theory was that all humans are capable of seeing in the dark as well as dogchilds, its just that most of them dont make the most of their ability because they dont have to. Dogchilds have to learn to see at night because dogs dont have candles or torches.
Gilder nodded, smiling. That makes a lot of sense.
Starry usually knew what he was talking about.
Her smile faded. Ime so sorry about what happened to him, Jeet. It must be very hard for you. Starry was one of the good ones.
It was a simple but perfect compliment, and I knew Starry would have appreciated it. The saddening thing was that it made me realize that apart from Chola Se – and Pilgrims cynical words of condolence – no one else had even mentioned Starrys death, let alone said anything nice about him or shown any genuine sorrow.
It wasnt right.
But it was what it was.
As darkness fell and the light in the attic lowered to a gloom, I just sat there quietly, idly watching Gilder as she prepared a meal for Juddah. I was watching without thought, neither concentrating on what she was doing nor thinking about anything else. I didnt want to think about anything else. But I was t
oo wrapped up in myself to care too much about what Gilder was doing. I was just watching her for the sake of it---watching the duality of deadness and love in her eyes as she cut up strips of bird meat and placed them in the bowl---watching the care in her knotted old fingers as she picked out the needle bones and sprinkled a little cornpepper on the meat---watching the age-old stiffness in her bones as she broke bitesized chunks of bread from a loaf and dipped them in fat---and watching the fleeting smile on her face as a low grumble sounded from Juddahs cage---
All right, she muttered softly, just a minute. Its nearly ready.
Juddah whined.
I know, Gilder said, pouring water into another bowl. Ime coming.
I watched her take the 2 bowls over to Juddahs cage and place them on the floor. She didnt put them right next to the cage but a few yards away from it instead, so if Juddah wanted to eat hede have to come out and get it. She stood by the bowls for a few moments, talking so quietly to him that I couldnt hear what she was saying, then she turned away and went back to the kitchen. I kept my eyes on the cage, and after a short while I saw Juddah edging cautiously out of the darkness. He stopped at the entrance and gazed across at me and Chola Se, his eyes flicking anxiously between us, then he looked over at Gilder, glanced over at the bowls, and let out another quiet whine – asking her to move the bowls closer. She ignored him. He whined again, a little louder this time, but when she still didnt take any notice, he went quiet almost immediately, glanced over at us again, then tentatively moved out of the cage and began crossing over to the food and water. He moved on his hands and knees – his left leg swinging out awkwardly to one side – and at first he didnt take his eyes off us, but the closer he got to the food, the less wary he became, and eventually he forgot about us and just scuttled over to the bowls and began eating. Instead of eating straight from the bowl, as I thought he might, he picked it up first, then settled into the same half-sitting, half-lying position as before, and ate from the bowl with his fingers. He ate with remarkable delicacy – carefully selecting one piece of food at a time, examining it, sniffing it, then unhurriedly putting it in his mouth and chewing it slowly, savoring it as much as possible before swallowing it and turning back to the bowl to pick out the next piece.
