The General kneeled and placed his hand on the young man's forehead. And all of the Forgiven placed their hands one after another above the General's hand as they had done countless times and then, they all said their prayer in unison.
Their deep voices rumbled in the caves and the words of their life's prayer echoed in the chamber.
Forgiven, Forever
We do not bleed…for we are not men
We do not weep…for we are not troubled
We do not bow...for we are not bound
We are the living and we are the judged
But we do not die...for we are the forgiven
Forgiven, Forever
Pradeep chewed eagerly on the hard sugar cane as its sweetness seeped through his tongue. He held a hardened brown clay plate containing cooked beans, a clay cup of cooked rice, sugar cane and a dollop of honey. The caves were dark and cool.
It had been an hour since he had woken up. The General sat in front of him, watching him eat. He was a big, burly, middle–aged man dressed in combat uniform splattered with green and brown camouflage pattern. And in keeping with his military attire was his impressive thick moustache that was almost grey, matching his short grey hair.
“What’s your name?” the General asked. His rumbling voice echoed a little in the caves.
“Pradeep Guha.”
“How’s the food?” There was a sense of authority in the man’s voice.
“It has been a week since I ate. I can live off ants right now. No complaints,” Pradeep replied.
“You were pretty dehydrated when we found you,” the General said.
“Ran out of water a few days back. Thought I was dead.”
“You almost were,” the General said. “Where are you from, Pradeep? In the End Age, the road’s a dangerous place to be on.”
“A little north of here.” Pradeep gulped down the cooked beans. They tasted like salted soft rocks. “Figured I would get away as far as possible from the Beam,” he said, trying not to see in his mind’s eye that unending column of light that haunted his days and dreams. “Thought maybe that would help me from escaping death a few more days.” He started with the rice. “Been walking south for two months.”
“Well, it certainly did help,” the General said. “We would have never found you if you were far up north.”
“I still can’t believe this. I thought I was alone.” Alone and dead.
“We are never alone, kid. We just need to know where to look,” the General said and for a moment, Pradeep was reminded of his father. “You are one among the Forgiven now. They call me the General here.”
Pradeep nodded. “How many other survivors are there?”
“Around 150 men, 90 women and 20 children,” the General replied. “We lose a few to the common death every 2 to 3 weeks, but many remain immune so far. But we are not the only ones roaming the wastelands, Pradeep. Our roamers bring news of other colonies of survivors. “
“Roamers?” Pradeep asked.
“Ours scouts and rangers. They are the ones that usually find other survivors and bring them home. They are the only way to get information about the outside world now that all communication systems are down,” the General said. “Anytime you are bored out of your wits, find one of our roamers; they tell the best of stories. They are also the ones that face the dangers of the wastelands though,” the General said. “What do you know about Crawlers?”
“Never seen one. Fortunately, wasn’t attacked during my journey. The radio said they keep themselves to the fission, don’t they? But that was way back when the last dying radio enthusiasts were still transmitting.”
“That’s what we thought too. But roamers bring news of mutant beasts and an occasional Crawler, far out of the fission. Those monsters are spreading out. Looks like they ran out of dead bodies to consume in the fission. Maybe, radioactivity alone isn’t sufficient for them to survive. And of course, there are the Thuggees –the bandits of the wastelands,” the General said. “But the Thuggees are not likely to raid us anytime soon. They have enough abandoned malls and complexes to loot for now.”
“I came across a couple of malls that were completely cleaned out on the way down here,” Pradeep replied. He ate the last morsel of rice.
“The Thuggees are hard to predict. We haven’t observed any patterns in their movements. Do you have any experience with fire arms?”
Pradeep shook his head.
“Well…you’ll have to learn. If there’s one thing we have enough of so far, its firearms. You look like a strong guy. You would make a great hunter. A good roamer too, but we have enough roamers. You can never have enough hunters. The Forgiven grow quickly in numbers and the food runs out faster each fortnight.”
“I will try my best,” Pradeep said. “Thank you, General, for saving my life.”
“I didn’t save your life, kid. No matter what I do, I can’t stop the common death. I am neither the judge nor the jury. We are forgiven and that’s a gift that I didn’t give. I am just giving you a chance to put that gift to a good use. Suresh will show you around and will tell you what to do next.”
The General got up, placed his heavy hand on Pradeep’s shoulder and said, “Forgiven, Forever.”
Pradeep nodded.
The General stood there looking at him, his hand still at his shoulder. “You are supposed to return the greeting. That is our oath.”
“Forgiven, Forever,” Pradeep said back.
The General smiled and said, “Welcome to the Forgiven, kid. Learn well. Maybe you will be a commander of the hunters one day,” he said, starting to leave.
“But I have never hunted before,” Pradeep called out from behind him.
The General stopped and turned back. “Oh, trust me. The hunters do a lot more than hunting.”
The General ran into his backyard in the warm night, amidst the flames.
He was a man who was called paranoid by many, including his own family. It was his hobby – to be a survivalist. To be prepared for the apocalypse, if it should ever arrive in his lifetime. His long tenure at the army had already equipped him with skills that a civilian might usually not possess. But that was never enough for him. He didn't mind that the world called him paranoid because he also knew the world said “Only the paranoid survive.” and he wanted to survive against all odds.
When he started digging up his backyard to build an underground bunker, his wife threatened to divorce him. His children were embarrassed by his strange obsessions. They never accompanied him on his treks through the jungle to prepare himself to survive in the wild with minimal resources.
The neighbours were equally sceptic. “General sahab! Give this madness a rest. Relax, let's play golf,” they used to say. None of them were playing golf now. Most of them were dead, “Look, who's paranoid now?” The General wanted to shout at their corpses; but the dead can’t hear. They can only whisper lessons to the living.
Everyone really started freaking out when he began to store weapons in the bunker. They all gave up when he brought the rocket launcher home.
His wife never had to enter the bunker or divorce him. She died quickly. Kalki picked her in the first week since the common deaths began. His two little daughters aged eight and ten turned out lucky like him, against his expectations. The General was a man who believed that women were inherently a weak species, less perfect and more sinful than men. He had wanted sons, but his wife had given him daughters and he had never loved them as much as he would have loved them if they had been sons.
But once their mother died and they were all he had left and he was all they had left, he started to grow fonder of them with each passing day. His little angels they were. Now, he ran into his backyard, his angels running in front of him. He had heard about the purges on the radio but had never seen one until today. And whatever he had heard had never frightened him, but today fear had crept in him like it did in everyone around him. Everything in the block started burning suddenly– houses, trees, anyt
hing that was flammable. His house has started burning already. He knew only the bunker in the backyard could save them now. They reached the hatch in the backyard which led to the underground bunker. He quickly opened it and made the angels go first. And that surprised him. That he was putting his life in danger for two little girls.
He descended the metallic ladder in the hatch, shutting its door just in time to stop the flames from bursting in. An hour later, he was sitting on the bunker floor, in the middle of all the supplies he had hoarded over the years for this moment– tons of food and other necessary tools and resources. His two angels sat by his side, munching on chocolates picked from the supplies. The younger angel occasionally stopped munching to play with the General's moustache.
The older angel looked at him and said. “Papa, I am afraid. Will we die?”
“No, dear,” the General replied. “We are survivors.” And that was when he uttered the words he didn’t know would soon become his anthem. “We are forgiven.”
That seemed to calm her down. He sang songs to them in his heavy voice and slowly they fell asleep on his lap. As he lay there, huddled with his angels and looked on at their innocent sleeping faces, he knew he had to protect them, no matter the cost. The bunker and its supplies may last another month. After that they would have to move out.
He knew the world would be in more ruins than it was now, once they stepped out. He would have to rebuild civilization. He had a plan for that too. Caves. They would offer natural shelter and also the purges seemed to target cities and human constructs. Belum caves to the south of Andhra Pradesh were his safest bet. They were the closest to him and also the biggest caves in the country. His thoughts slowly faded into oblivion as he fell asleep, content with the knowledge that he would survive and also protect his angels.
He woke up the next morning, but his angels didn't. The first thing the General saw as he woke up was blood. His hands were red and so were his trousers.
His two little angels lay motionless in his lap, their eyes all white and blood trickling down their noses and ears.
FRIENDS AND FIRE
Suresh Mathur was a tall man in his late thirties with balding hair and bright eyes. Pradeep followed him into the inner sections of the caves. They squeezed through a narrow passage to reach a wide spacious chamber with pillar like rock formations. Other survivors sat among the pillars and looked at them as they entered the chamber. Some of them were grinding down nuts. A few of the women were sewing clothes.
“We get most of our supplies from our hunting missions,” Suresh said. He looked like a man who had done this countless times and was just going through the motions like a frustrated tour guide. “But we still have to cook our own food and sew our own clothes. Canned foods are getting rarer to find. Those goddamn Thuggees are getting there first before us,” he said. “The clothes we find are usually cut up and different parts are sewn together to suit our needs.”
Pradeep followed silently. “This is the common hall,” Suresh continued. “Everyone gathers early in the morning to say our prayer. Other passageways and chambers cannot accommodate all of us at one time.” They walked further and turned right into another passageway that led to a smaller chamber.
Suresh sat down on the cave floor and Pradeep did the same. “There are around a 150 of us here,” Suresh said. “The next minute, we don’t know how many there we will be. The common death can take us any time. We have no idea why anyone of us has survived. Maybe we are immune to the psychic wave. Maybe a genetic anomaly that renders our brain unaffected by the Beam. Or maybe death is just taking its sweet, sweet time to get to us. We still lose people though.” he said casually. “It’s just not very frequent.”
“I am just happy to see so many other people survive,” Pradeep said.
“Don’t be too happy,” Suresh said. “The person you sit beside in the common hall tomorrow morning may not be alive the day after tomorrow. The first and foremost thing every Forgiven needs to do is not to grow attached.” He paused. “As a hunter, you would be out in the wastelands and sometimes things get dangerous. You should know when to get your team out of the mission and retreat, sometimes even at the risk of abandoning one of the hunters to die.”
“So, you are telling me that I just found out a bunch of people are alive only to let them die?”
“In the End Age, survival is more important than anything else, Pradeep,” Suresh said. “I once saw a commander go back into a purge we had just escaped from, to rescue a hunter. We lost a commander that day. He was a good commander. But foolish. The End Age doesn’t suffer fools and heroes gladly. Don’t try to be either one of them,” he said. “You want to save people? Do that by being a good hunter and finding supplies and food. That saves a lot more lives than some impulsive false bravado.”
Pradeep nodded reluctantly.
“We are not the only ones out there,” Suresh continued. “The Thuggees have been scavenging longer than us and are clearly better at it. Never get into a turf war with them. Not just them, any of them. Sinless, Sandmen, any armed group –you do not engage. Do you understand?”
Pradeep nodded again.
“And never be too confident. The Sinless got too cocky when they wandered off into the fission and caged up some Crawlers. You know what happened?” Suresh asked. “‘Crawlers’ Night’ happened. They say around 50 of the Sinless were eaten alive by the Crawlers that night,” Suresh said. “There shouldn’t be any Crawlers or mutants this south out of the fission but never take any chances. Anything that looks abnormal or mutated, don’t try to be curious. Get the hell out of there and get as far away as possible. A roamer says he once saw a mutated scorpion the size of a big dog far away from the fission. Stay the hell away from anything that looks like it didn’t exist before the End Age.”
“I will,” Pradeep replied.
“Collect stuff that would last longer. Like honey,” Suresh said. “Never forget honey. It’s the best thing you can get your hands on in these times. It will stay unspoiled forever. Everything clear?” He asked.
“Just one thing. What do you think caused the apocalypse?”
Suresh looked surprised. “Never heard that question before from someone we rescued,” he said. “What else? It’s Kalki, of course”.
“Really?” Pradeep exclaimed. “The entire world’s gone and that’s the explanation everyone’s fine with?”
“Then, what do you think has caused the apocalypse, Pradeep?” Suresh asked.
Pradeep remained silent for a second and then said, “I…I don’t know.”
“Right answer,” Suresh said. “Anyone who says he or she knows what the hell’s going on in this End Age is either stupid or lying. Now, gather good supplies, hunt some animals and show some damn sense and maybe we will be able to turn you into a decent hunter in a year. Now, go and rest. We need you to heal completely before you can start helping with the chores,” Suresh said, bidding him farewell.
Pradeep walked out of Suresh’s chamber and walked into the common hall studying the eerie cave system as he walked. He still felt a little weak because of all that dehydration but he knew the Forgiven had healed him good.
Common hall was a welcome sight in the caves. It was filled with what Pradeep had missed all these days– people. A fire was lit in the centre and people sat around it, chit chatting and occasionally laughing, trying to forget that they might die any second. Pradeep walked over to the fire and shook everyone’s hand, introducing himself as he caught their names. He tried to remember as many as he could. He knew they were his new family now. While everyone was gathered around the fire, he observed two women sitting far away. Both of them were not even sitting together but they looked as if they were writing something into the books in their hands. One of them sat by a short pillar like rock formation further down towards the tunnels, while the other one was sitting at the far corner of the hall, cut off from everyone.
Pradeep couldn’t see them clearly this far away from the fireplace. As
much as he missed people, this sudden surge of interactions from so many people started to slowly grow weary on him. He stood up and walked away from the fireplace, towards the woman sitting by the rock formation. It wasn’t until he was a step away from her that she realized he was there. She looked up, hearing his footsteps. She had cropped short hair and was dressed in a tank top and ill–fitting cargo trousers. She sat leaning her back against the rocky pillar. Her sharp nose made her small face look fiercer than it actually was while the small dangling metal earrings did the opposite.
Pradeep offered his hand. “Pradeep Guha,” he introduced himself.
“Nivedita Ojha,” the woman said shaking his hand. “New here?”
Pradeep nodded, sitting beside her.
“If you were an old member, you would have known better than to interrupt me while I do the accounts,” she said pointing to the book in front of her that was filled with numbers. “Everyone else knows not to disturb me or they would have their food ration halved for the next fortnight,” she said, looking at the fireplace.
“Oh …I am sorry,” Pradeep said, taken aback. “Should I leave?”
“Nah…it’s okay. I was just being an asshole,” she smiled. Her black eyes shone when she smiled. “You get a free pass this time since you are new. I can use some interesting company,” she said.
“So, you take care of the accounts?” He asked.
“Pretty much,” she said. “Accounting, supply inventory and food rationing …you know… the usual number crunching. Used to be an accountant before everything went to hell,” she said casually. “The General thought I would be better at this than any of these other dimwits, so here I am. What’s your story?”
Sinners- The Dawn Of Kalki Page 3
