The Fall of Man: The Saboteur Chronicles Book 1

by J. V. Roberts

  How could he have been so stupid? He knew better than to commit violence in the house of the Creator. He’d been there representing Mother; her lips were his lips, her words his words, her hands his hands. He’d be lucky to take the Fall. She was just as likely to leave him to rot. He’d know soon enough.

  Keys jangled in the lock and the door squawked open. “Hey, Mother is here.” It sounded more like a warning than an announcement.

  She floated in on beams of sunlight. She took slow, short, deliberate steps around the room. She eyed the walls and the ceiling. She passed by the lone table and ran a finger across the dusty surface, flicking the filth to the floor. She brought her hand towards her white robe. Zach thought she was reaching for the blade she kept sheathed against her torso. He started to panic and struggle against the chains. Foolishness and cowardice overtook him when he realized she was simply brushing her hands clean.

  “Are you going to say something? Or should I just hand you over to the Creator and leave the guards to carry out His will?” She stared down at him through the bars, her tongue cocked behind her front teeth.

  “Mother, that fella was saying—”

  “Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Start again!” She gripped the bars of the cage and shook, as if she intended to pull it down around him.

  “He tried… I had no intention—”

  “Make another excuse! One more! See what happens!”

  “I’m sorry, Mother. I’m so sorry.”

  She pushed herself off the bars. “For?”

  He dropped his knee warily. “I don’t follow?”

  “You’re just a dumb animal, aren’t you? Not all that different from your brother. I’d placed you as the smart one. But perhaps I made a mistake.”

  He just hung his head; he didn’t know what else to do. Arguing would make it worse.

  “What are you sorry for, stupid boy?”

  He couldn’t keep his chin from trembling, couldn’t keep the moisture from his eyes. Each display of emotional defeat only seemed to empower her. “I’m sorry for embarrassing you. For bringing shame to our Creator. For bringing shame to His house. For bringing shame on the people of this settlement. I’m sorry, Mother. Please… forgive me?”

  “I guess that’s all up to our Father. We will wait for him to decide. But as for right now, you will stand before the people of this settlement at tonight’s ceremony and apologize publically, on bended knee.”

  “Yes of course, Mother, of course.”

  “Also, effective immediately, you’re to take up with the Watch. You will take nights on the wall. You are no longer my personal guard.”

  His heart missed a beat. “Mother, for how long?”

  She shrugged. “Until our Father sees fit.”

  He strained against the chains as she turned to walk away. “Mother, do you forgive me? Please, forgive me? Let me out of here.”

  She responded with an icy laugh, her back to him. “Why would I do that?”

  He didn’t expect the question and choked as he tried to find the answer.

  “Well?”

  He sniffled pathetically. He hated himself for it. “Because… I’m your son.”

  “Are you?” And then she was gone, riding out on beams of sunlight, the door slamming decisively behind her.

  He sniffled pathetically. He hated her for it.

  23

  The rain rolled in quick on the backs of furious, black clouds. It was heralded by a ceaseless, dust choked wind that slapped the sweat from their faces with fine grains of sand. The lukewarm drops of water fell, heavy and fat and loud. They slapped against the parched clay in a loud discordant drum beat and turned their conversation into a mess of broken syllables and hand gestures. Rain didn’t fall often in the wastes, but when it did, it fell fast and hard. The clouds would dump their payload and flee before anyone could really enjoy a reprieve from the hellacious heat.

  Lerah yelled something.

  Dominic only caught fragments.

  “… shit… not waterproof.” She clomped ahead, moving swiftly. She lifted her feet dramatically with each step, so high that her knees rose above her navel. With each heavy touchdown she sent sheets of water soaring in every direction. The bottoms of her pants were soaked. “This… over here.” The weather was furious. The air around them had turned white. Lerah was now a mere outline. She turned, raised her hands, and waved for Dominic to move faster.

  The ground sucked at his feet. Torrents of water swelled from the earth and wrapped around his ankles. When he caught up with her she was unloading her weapons and pack beneath an angled piece of metal sticking up from the ground. “Looks like an old car trunk!” Dominic shouted above the downpour. He gripped the rust covered shelter and shook it back and forth. “Seems sturdy.”

  “Don’t do that. We don’t need this thing falling down. Our shit isn’t water proof.”

  “No shit Lerah, I am just making sure it’s gonna hold up.”

  “It’s holding up fine without you jerking it around.”

  He began unloading his pack. “It usually passes pretty quick. We shouldn’t be here long.” He hunkered down beneath the shelter and wiped the water from his face. The sound of the downpour against the metal was all consuming, like an endless flock of crows breaking their necks against a window pane.

  “They didn’t outfit us for this.” She looked at him. There were beads of water dangling from her hair like silver decorations on a tree. The moisture ran in small broken streams down her cheeks and over her jaw, they collected against her neck and disappeared down the top of her shirt.

  Dominic caught himself following the castoff rain flow and quickly averted his eyes. He cleared his throat nervously and nodded. “Yeah, these… uh, guns, they definitely aren’t built for wet conditions.”

  “How so?”

  Did she move in closer? He could have sworn he felt her hip brush up against his. Being that close to her, able to smell her flesh, to feel her breath on his neck, it sent him off his axis. It turned him into a mushy headed fool. “At worst… well, we get a pressure build up and the damn things explode. At best we get misfires when we need them to work the most. Guess you can switch those two scenarios out depending on your preference.”

  She laughed. “I think I’d take getting shot over getting my hands blown off. If your hands are gone… they’re gone. If I’m shot, maybe I’ll survive.”

  “Sounds reasonable.” The metal roof was inches from his scalp. He looked up, the tip of his nose brushing the cold surface.

  “I know I’ve been difficult out here.”

  “It’s fine. First time in the Wastes, living day and night with an Outlander you barely know, I’d be a little edgy too.”

  “It’s not as bad as I thought it’d be. Company is better than expected.” She laughed, nudging him in the side with her elbow.

  “You haven’t put a knife in my back yet, I count that as progress.”

  “You’ve got some low expectations where women are concerned.”

  “Only Union women.”

  “Oh, is that so?”

  “Okay, it’s just you.”

  “Asshole!” She punched him in the arm.

  Thin rivers of rainwater connected and disconnected at their feet, cutting shallow, muddy ditches in the earth.

  She was close. He had an overwhelming urge to touch her. Damn it, he’d always been bad with women. Not knowing what to do or say. It was always easiest when there was coin involved. There was no guessing. He knew where he stood.

  “I had my doubts about us being able to pull this off,” she said, wringing some of the water from her hair.

  “The mission?”

  “That too, but I was talking about this act we’re supposed to put on, man and wife.”

  “I’m that bad, really?”

  “Oh, stop it. You’re not bad at all… for an Outlander.”

  “Not the highest compliment I’ve ever been paid, but I’ll take what I can get.”

  She wiped
the remaining water from her face using one of her sleeves. “I was just trying to say that you’ve really shown up for me out here. The Lord Marshal was right about you.”

  “And you were wrong? It’s okay, you can say it.”

  “I can say it, but I’m not going to.”

  “It’s okay, I accept your apology.”

  “I made no such apology, my dear, fake husband. However, there’s more to you than meets the eye, and it’s surprisingly pleasant. That’s all I’m saying, you’ll get no more praise from me.”

  “That was more than enough.” He set a hand on her thigh and set his gaze upon her face. He had this vision of her turning her head and meeting his eyes before attacking his lips hungrily with her own.

  She froze. Her eyes fell to his hand. Her lips parted, in horror rather than ecstasy, as if a bug had just jumped on her and she didn’t know whether to swat it away or play dead.

  “Oh, shit, I’m sor—” he jerked away from her so quickly that he came up out of his seat and banged his head.

  The rain was beginning to die down; shafts of sunbeam had started to penetrate the blackened sky. “You know, I uh, we’re good, I think. It’s died down enough.” Lerah grabbed her pack and moved back out into the open as fast as her feet would carry her.

  Dominic had a sour sensation in the pit of his stomach, one he’d have gladly traded for a bullet or beating.

  “So we should… uh… we should get going,” Lerah said, standing in the mud with her back to him.

  “Yeah, we should.” Dominic collected his things and moved to open up the distance between them.

  24

  Charlotte was lying on her back in Blake’s living room with her legs spread. Her husband Gregory knelt by her head. He gripped her sweaty hands and looked on anxiously. Blake sat sideways at her feet, his face between her thighs. He supported his weight on one hand while the other moved inside her.

  “Let me know if it’s too much.”

  She drew in a deep breath and shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”

  “Okay, I think I have some good news.” Blake pressed one more time, just to make sure. Charlotte flinched and squeezed Gregory’s hands tighter. “Yeah, I have good news. You’ve softened considerably. The mucus is thick. I think it’s safe to say, you’re pregnant.”

  Charlotte shrieked, wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck, and pulled him in for a kiss. “Oh, thank the Creator, I knew it. You’re going to be such a good father.” She kissed her husband, tears streaming from both of their eyes.

  “Thank you, Doc,” Gregory said, extending his hand.

  Blake stood. “Here, let me wash up and then I’ll give you that handshake.”

  “Oh, of course,” he laughed, cradling Charlotte’s head in his lap.

  There was a loud knock at the door. Blake tossed Charlotte a blanket before he moved to open it.

  It was Toby, dripping with rainwater and sweat. “What you got going on in there, Doc.” Toby tried to bend past him to see inside.

  Blake stepped out, bumping Toby backwards two steps. “What do you want?”

  “Careful now, Doc. Don’t go acting out just because my brother is out of the picture.”

  “Out of the picture?”

  “Oh, you didn’t hear?” He gave a smug little chuckle. “You’ll be hearing tonight, don’t worry. All you need to know is I’m calling the shots now. I’m Mother’s main guard. I’m her voice, her hands, and all that other shit.”

  Blake truly didn’t care. Zach and Toby were both bad men, if he only had to deal with one monkey on his back instead of two, all the better. “Are you going to tell me why you’re here?”

  Toby crossed his arms. “Yeah, I’m gonna get around to it.” He studied Blake with his beady bloodshot eyes and jutted his jaw, the rusty wheels were spinning. “Mother wants to see you, once you’re finished up here.”

  “Okay, tell her I’ll be along shortly.”

  “Better be.”

  “I just told you I’d be there. Anything else?”

  The wheels were spinning again. The teeth were grinding. A minute passed slowly between them. Toby turned on his heels and started marching away, tossing a few verbal grenades over his shoulder. “Big mouth, gonna catch a beat down.”

  Mother was in a rare mood. She danced from her seat when Blake walked into her office. “Doctor, it is so good to see you, especially on a day such as this. It is a day of days, is it not?” She twirled to the window and pushed back the shutters.

  “In light of the events that have taken place recently, I’d say that today is a most welcome change.”

  “Yes, the events as of late have been most troublesome. I know that you and I have clashed recently. But you’ve proven to me that I was mistaken in mistrusting you. The way you handled the heresy of Colton and that harlot Kati, the bravery you showed last night in the face of my foolish son, you have proven to me that your faith remains firm.”

  In spite of the hollowness he felt towards her admonition, he bowed his head gracefully. “I’m here, only to serve His will.”

  “That’s good. That’s great!” She propped herself back against the window sill, framed by the noonday light. “So, tell me there is good news?”

  “Charlotte is pregnant.”

  Mother threw her hands towards the ceiling, clenched her fists, and pulled something invisible from the air. “Thank you, Creator! Thank you, Father! Praise Him!”

  “Yes,” Blake said, echoing her sentiments with forced conviction.

  She came towards him, her arms flapping wildly. “Doctor, don’t you see the blessing? This is just what we need. It’s just what Reeman needs. The Father is showing us that he’s pleased by our obedience: the judgment of the heretics, the punishment of my son.”

  “Is he to take the Fall as well?”

  Mother shook her head. “No, but he is no longer to serve as my personal guard. He will be standing nights on the wall, indefinitely.”

  I guess we can’t get everything we want in life.

  “I had my concerns. Truly, I did. After Zach defiled the house of our Creator I thought we’d lost His blessing. I could feel the faith of the people slipping. But with the rain and this child growing in Charlotte’s belly,” she let out a little squeal of excitement, “the people are going to be renewed!”

  And less willing to ask questions.

  “Now,” she shook his hands up and down in her own, like a little girl trying to get the attention of her father, “would you be willing to make the announcement at tonight’s ceremony?”

  “The Declaration of Multiplication?”

  “Yes, would you do it? We’re losing so many lives in such a short amount of time. I think the announcement of new life would be good for morale. And I think it’d mean more coming from you, you’re out there pounding the ground with them day in and day out.”

  “Of course, I’m happy to make the announcement.”

  She touched his face; the side where her fingernails had left their mark. “It does my heart good to know that I have you with me, Doctor.”

  He wanted to crumple her paper hands beneath his own. He wanted to feel her bones turn to powder, to bring her to her knees, to hear her plead for his mercy. “It does my heart good as well, Mother.” He smiled and gave her fingers a small squeeze.

  25

  “Is that smoke?” They were the first words that had been broken between them in hours.

  Dominic turned at the sound of her voice, following her finger. “That’s definitely smoke.”

  “Seems like a bit much, don’t you think?”

  “It’s definitely not a cook fire.”

  Three fat plumes of smoke twisted and twirled, joining against the skyline, rising as a single black cloud before flattening out into a thin haze.

  “What’s over there?”

  “A settlement, if memory serves.”

  “Should we go check it out? They could be in trouble.”

  Dominic sighed, checking the s
un as if it were a watch face. “It’ll put us behind… but yeah, we probably should. It’ll gnaw at us the rest of the day if we don’t.”

  Getting to the source was a short one hour walk through faceless sands. The ground was already bone dry, bearing no sign of the morning downpour.

  Dominic had been right, it was a settlement. A small community made up of hovels, standing an arm’s length apart, glued together by plank, and mud, and thatch. Most of the structures were propped three feet off the ground by sturdy wooden pillars, so they wouldn’t flood when the rains blew through. There was a trading post, a well, small fields of arid crops, a town hall, and a clinic. All of it was surrounded by a waist high fence, meant more to discourage critters than anything else. But what had once been a picture of normalcy was now cloaked in violence. As Dominic and Lerah drew closer explosions went off. Distant screams began to reach them, fractured by bursts of gunfire. As homes burned they could see the blurred outlines of people running in and out of the flames.

  “Those look like soldiers to me,” Dominic motioned towards two men that were standing guard in front of the settlement. “I don’t like this. There’s no concealment. They start shooting and we’re done.” There wasn’t a tree, a rock, or a rusted car in sight. It was all open space between them and the besieged settlement. “Keep your weapons out of sight, maybe they won’t plug us before we can finish our approach.”

  “They look like Union.” Lerah shielded her eyes with a bladed hand.

  “What do you mean they look like Union?”

  “I grew up in Genesis, just trust me, I know them when I see them.”

  The two men had taken notice of their approach and were moving to meet them with their weapons shouldered, yelling something that Dominic couldn’t quite make out.

  “Put your hands up,” Dominic said.

  “What?”