Authors: Ryan Mark
‘Look at yourself; you’re in a similar condition to her. Your wounds need tending to and that will only be possible if we get to Stone Cross sooner, not later.’
Taking a quick glimpse back at the woman, William closed his eyes and nodded. ‘OK,’ he whispered, exhaling.
‘A very sensible decision,’ replied Merle. ‘It’s a harsh world now and to survive you must learn to live with that fact.’
‘Let’s just get out of here, please.’
Before Merle could reply, a familiar mechanical burst sounded from close by. William looked above the lip of the ditch again. The woman had frozen in place.
‘Bandits?’
‘No, something else.’ Merle aimed his crossbow once more.
A convoy of vehicles slithered into the square of collapsed brick homes. William couldn’t stop staring, eyes widening on the jagged cross roughly painted onto the vehicle’s metal work. Terrafall.
The first black van stopped in front of the woman. She was still frozen, hands holding her cart tightly. A man dressed in an armoured body suit, blue cape trailing behind, stepped out of the vehicle. He approached the woman slowly.
‘What was your calling?’ he said, pulling out a baton.
The woman didn’t respond, gripping her cart harder.
William looked away for a second. ‘What are they doing?’
‘Looking for potential sacrifices, most likely,’ whispered Merle. ‘I suppose you could call it farming…’
‘Can we help her?’ asked William.
‘Not unless you want to die.’
William shivered but looked back. The man was directly in front of the woman now, holding the baton above her head.
‘Answer me; your silence will only anger the tremors. They need to be fed. They need blood.’
‘I–I was a shopkeeper…’
This seemed to confuse him. ‘You shall come with us to face the Cleric! He will determine whether you are worthy of the tremors.’
‘Leave me!’ cried the woman, her voice pathetically small. She staggered back, palm held up to the Enforcer. In a frantic move, she pulled a sharp piece of metal from her cart and began swinging it around hysterically.
The man brought the baton down. William looked away before the impact. There was a brief scuffling sound, followed by slamming doors and explosions of exhaust fumes, and then only the soundless air remained. The stage was empty once again.
Merle grabbed his shoulder. ‘Come lad, we’ll head for the houses over there, they’ll keep us hidden until we can be sure they’re gone,’ he whispered, hooking the crossbow over his shoulder. ‘Pray for her, it’s all you can do now.’
They crept to the row of once-grand townhouses, sinking into the battered fields behind. Now that William had seen Terrafall in action, he realised how important it was to put a stop to their insane practices. They couldn’t go on tormenting survivors, forcing them into submission, into a ridiculous religion. Sacrifice wasn’t right, nobody should believe in it, let alone be forced into it. If Terrafall continued, society would fall into a pit of something he couldn’t or didn’t want to describe. He shuddered.
They headed for the first house. It didn’t have a door, which wasn’t surprising. He stepped in, the usual damp smell filling his nostrils. He walked through the soggy corridors, able to easily pass through one house to the next.
‘Explore if you must. You may even find something useful,’ said Merle, heading off into the gloom to sit down and rest.
William looked around. The rooms were filled with rubbish and most of the architectural character was lost. He carried on towards the first flight of stairs he came across. The first few steps were long gone, but he leapt over the missing slats to arrive safely on the first-floor landing.
He tried to twist the place into a vision of the past; of what the house might’ve looked like, but he couldn’t.
The room at the head of the corridor beckoned him. He walked through the door and was met with the lingering smell of lavender. An image of his mother came at once. He walked to the windowsill and took hold of the withered stalks. They crunched in his hands, crispy flakes drifting to the dank carpet.
A cracked frame lay face down next to the stagnant vase. He picked it up. Four faces looked up at him. He cleaned off some dirt, righted the picture and carefully placed it back. Those faces were probably gone now, maybe to a better place, and hopefully together. He looked out of the window, and the horrible desolation from outside stared back at him.
Walking over to the piano in the corner, William ran a finger across the yellow keys. One hit too hard, but the sound wasn’t too loud, and only lasted for a couple of seconds. The hammers had obviously been worn down by neglect and exposure to the elements, so the sounds would never leave the room. He smiled, feeling a surge of warmth wash over him.
He hadn’t played since his angry burst in school, after he’d lost the journal. When he’d lived in the cottage he’d played every day.
‘I’ll give Dad one last song,’ he said, sitting down on the piano stool.
The keys sank comfortably under his fingers as he applied pressure, and the quiet, melodic beat of hammers on string provided a satisfying melancholia. This could be the last song on Earth, and he the last composer. He never thought music could disappear, but with no one to make it and no one to listen, it really could be forgotten. He carried on building speed, applying greater pressure to the keys so the sound carried further, for longer. And then he sang…
I’ve been hoping for something so unreal,
A life that could never be.
And now as the sun fades beyond the horizon,
I’m lost and deep in my dreams.
But now I’m not dreaming, I’m human, it’s real.
A life that could never be.
The final notes hung in the dark room, as if they knew they’d never be played again. William stepped away from the piano, and left with a newfound warmth circling his body.
His father had taught him that song, right after he’d taught him the basics of the piano. He’d never really understood the lyrics before, but now their meaning was clear. Through the song, his father had been dreaming of a better world, just like he was now. Knowing this, brought him closer to his father, and he was proud they could still share something together.
In his heart, William knew this whole journey was not only a mission to save his mother, but a tribute to his father as well, a way to finally come to terms with his death. That’s what keeping the journal was, too. By trying to fulfil his father’s mission, William had felt close to him, and through William, his legacy would live on. Of course, the journal couldn’t relieve the pain, only time could do that. He placed a hand over his heart. Time was the answer he’d been looking for.
Time… something his mother didn’t have.
‘Did you discover anything?’ asked Merle, appearing at the bottom of the stairs as William climbed down them.
‘Yes,’ said William, looking to the floor. ‘Nothing you’d understand.’
‘Whatever.’ Merle studied him for a moment. ‘Here, have an apple. It’s more rot than fruit, but there’s some good bits, so just eat those, should give you some energy at least. Probably left by a Peace Enforcer.’
William stared at the red and black orb and grimaced. He took a bite, avoiding the mould. He gagged, but forced the clump down.
‘Let’s get away from here now. I think the Enforcers have gone.’
William followed Merle up the corridor, jumping into a doorway when a figure blocked his way then disappeared again as quickly as he did. He slowly peered out, seeing the figure copying his actions. ‘Oh, it’s me,’ he said, blushing as he saw Merle smirking.
‘It’s a mirror, you idiot,’ he said, vanishing around the next corner.
William considered his reflection again, mouth falling open at the sight of the bruising on his face. Was that really him? His hair clung to his injured forehead, its usual light brown colour matted and red. His dark trousers and grey jumper were decorated with holes from landing against that fence, holes that had begun to fray in places.
He’d not really thought about how bad the fall from the tracks had been, until now. The first thing that came to mind was a zombie… He put a hand up to the mirror, but quickly drew it back and followed Merle out of the terraced house. He could worry about his appearance later. He traipsed back into the gloom of Gravenshard, and before long, they were out of the town, leaving its broken remains behind them.
They spent the next couple of hours slogging through the upturned farmland. As they edged into flatter fields, patches of green began to appear. They were only small tufts of grass, but their colour was unmistakable. William knelt down and placed a hand amongst some of the tiny blades. It was brittle, but definitely alive.
He stood up feeling his bones creak in pain, and looked across the patchwork quilt. It seemed to go on forever. But the small signs of life gave him hope, and made him quicken his pace.
‘So what did you do before the war? Did you live in Haven’s Hollow?’ he asked Merle as he caught up with him once more.
‘I’ve worked at the animal sanctuary in the valley since I can remember. It’s been in my family for many years,’ replied Merle, staring stoically ahead. ‘I suppose that’s why I’m so scared of Haven being destroyed. The sanctuary is my only link to what once was, even if it is now more farm than sanctuary.’
‘Oh… I thought you were just being selfish,’ said William. Maybe this guy had a nice side after all.
‘I suppose I am selfish when the things I love are threatened. Exactly how you’re behaving now, I suppose,’ said Merle, gripping his ribs.
‘We can relate then,’ said William, shrugging a shoulder.
Merle grunted, grip tightening on his middle.
‘Are you OK?’ asked William, frowning.
‘Yes, I injured myself when I escaped the bandit camp, it plays up sometimes.’ He pointed. ‘Look, we’re close. That road leading into the forest should take us right to Stone Cross!’
They moved quickly across the countryside that separated them from the forest. As they entered the trees, William looked up. It was as if a spoonful of coffee was slowly being stirred into the sky. The darkness bleeding across the horizon made him tremble.
‘I think we’ve got trouble, could be bandits or Enforcers…’ said William, pointing to a pirouette of smoke rising in the distance. Was it a camp, so close to Stone Cross? Could it be an Enforcer camp? He didn’t want to think about it.
‘You’re right,’ said Merle. He paused and looked around, then crouched down and felt the earth. ‘Footprints. Fresh ones. I think we’re being tracked…’
‘And there was me thinking we’d get to Stone Cross without a hitch now,’ said William, moving with Merle to the safety of a huge tree trunk. The tree was dying and it was possible to get right into the hollow of the trunk. ‘I thought this was HD territory.’
‘It’s foolish to assume anywhere is safe nowadays. Although the HD controls parts of this valley, Terrafall’s Peace Enforcers and the bandits don’t know or care about specific boundaries. This land, which separates Stone Cross from Hardknott, is a minefield, always has been,’ explained Merle. He pulled William to his knees, putting a hand to his lips.
William sank down and Merle shielded him with one arm, his crossbow positioned in the other. William noticed the man was still in pain from his wound, but before he could comment, there was the unmistakable sound of hooves on the dirt road and a metallic spinning sound.
‘They went this way,’ someone called loudly.
‘Track ’em,’ said another.
William looked at Merle.
‘Go, through the trees, behind us,’ said Merle, indicating the dense forest. ‘And don’t look back.’ He pushed William out of the tree and aimed his crossbow at him.
William just stared. ‘W–wha–’
‘Go!’ spat Merle, shaking the crossbow. ‘You’ve got ten seconds before they find us.’
William tightened his fists, knowing there was no time to argue. He shot into the trees. What was Merle’s game? They could have stayed hidden in the tree, couldn’t they? Whatever it was, William didn’t have time to think about it. All he knew was that it was a dangerous one that could end up getting one or both of them killed. He ran on, trying to ignore the noises behind him.
Chapter 17
The Cleric
‘He went into the trees. Get him!’ shouted a voice, dangerously close, as if breathing through his hair.
William didn’t get far. His feet slipped downwards. He fell into a pit, crashing through decomposing wood and plant life. The nearby sound of raucous laughter made his heart sink. He scrambled to his feet and clawed his way out of the ditch, fingers digging frantically into sodden earth.
He managed to clamber up, but before he could continue his flight, rough hands grabbed his shoulders.
‘No one gets away from our traps!’ hissed a man, fingers digging deep into William’s arms.
‘Well that’s good; at least we can take something back,’ said a brutish female. ‘I heard they had to take out a woman in Gravenshard earlier, she apparently retaliated…’ She looked down at him. ‘Wait, he’s just a boy.’
‘I’m getting sick of these run-outs, each time we’re coming back with less of ’em,’ said the man. ‘One today, that’s it, and he’s a young one. Why do we bother?’
‘He probably doesn’t even have a calling yet. I guess it’s the Cleric’s decision. He’ll have to decide if he’s to be given to her,’ said the woman. ‘And if the Cleric decides he isn’t good for them then I guess we’ll have to deal with him.’
‘Well, let’s ask him if he has a calling,’ the man said, claggy teeth emitting a smell that made William recoil. ‘What do you do? What’s your calling, boy?’
William just stared at them. He saw the mark of a jagged cross roughly stitched into their tatty uniforms, could see blue capes dangling from their backs. Peace Enforcers. But these people didn’t have the slick enthusiasm of other Peace Enforcers he’d met. They must be the sort Althea had mentioned, the ones that torture you and draw it out for as long as possible…
Crap.
‘Well, answer him then,’ said the female, her dark eyes glaring into his.
William thought for a second, turned to the man and spat in his face. He shrugged off the woman’s grip, pushed himself away and managed to gain speed. He couldn’t get caught now. He was too close to Stone Cross. Something inside him had just clicked, forcing him to stick up for himself. Perhaps Althea’s attitude was finally rubbing off on him.
‘Get him!’ screamed the female, dark hair flailing around her like a dank mist.
William ran, a piercing stitch stabbing at his lower body. He tried to push the pain away, but his ankles became tangled in the undergrowth and he fell to the damp ground, the gash on his forehead throbbing in unison with his heart and the stitch in his side.
‘Got the little sod!’ screamed the man, standing on William’s feet. ‘Can’t get away from an Enforcer, son. No, not a chance in hell. Get up, you disgusting brat.’
‘Calm yourself!’ shouted the woman, grabbing the man’s elbow. ‘It is not for us to decide, remember?’
‘I’ll be calm once I’m free of these tedious errands!’
The man dragged William to his feet and held him so tightly there was no chance of another attempt at escape. He’d just have to bide his time and wait for the right moment to try again. He’d let them take him to this Cleric person. If he obeyed, it might make escaping a little easier.
‘He’s stopped struggling; must’ve learnt his lesson,’ said the man, hauling William back through the trees.
‘Make it easy for us, and we’ll make it easier for you,’ said the woman, with no emotion whatsoever.
‘What do you do?’ the man asked again, but William just shook his head. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing, and get himself killed.
‘Let’s just take him to the Cleric. He isn’t going to speak to us is he? The Cleric has ways to make stubborn souls talk.’
William closed his eyes and let them drag him out of the trees and onto a muddy road. Maybe, just maybe, going to the Cleric would help him get an insight into the inner workings of Terrafall. He could work out its weaknesses and use them to his advantage.
They came to a lay-by in the road. Two pathetically thin horses and a caged cart stood waiting for them. The man pushed William into the cage, sending him to his knees. He couldn’t be bothered to protest and struggle. He needed to conserve his energy if he was to outsmart the Cleric and Terrafall. The man closed the door and locked a padlock, sneering through the bars.
‘Only one catch today…’ William heard the woman whisper as they mounted the horses.
‘I know, he’s going to be annoyed,’ said the man, looking back at William. ‘And he’s only a kid.’
‘Whatever happens poor kid has no chance, even if the Cleric decides he’s no good. He’s seen too much hasn’t he?’ The woman pulled the reins, causing the cart to jolt forward.
‘They’ll make us get rid of him as soon as it’s been decided,’ replied the man. ‘I’m so tired of it all.’
‘What caused them to become such monsters?’
‘Despair? Fear? What causes us to do what we do?’
William just stared at their backs, gripping the bars tightly. They weren’t going to kill him, no way. He wished Althea were with him; he could use some of her fighting spirit, just like before.
The journey through the damp woodland was quick. The cart rolled into a secluded area filled with relatively intact industrial buildings. William scanned the view around him. Enforcers patrolled every square inch. What was this place?
They stopped in front of the largest and most central building, an old warehouse of some sort, which William guessed might’ve been used to store grain or other food once upon a time. A farm, it must’ve been used as some sort of farm before the war.
There was enough cover to aid an escape, but he’d have to become invisible to avoid the number of Enforcers milling about. He’d just have to wait for the right time. Even Enforcers had to sleep, didn’t they?
The woman approached the cage door. ‘You’re going to come quietly, alright? If you do, we’ll go easy on you. You see, we can’t let you go even if the Cleric says you’re not right, but I promise I can make it as painless as possible.’
William looked at the woman. He sensed something in her… sympathy? Sorrow? Could he use it? He climbed out of the cage slowly, watching the woman’s every move, trying to read her.
‘There’s a better life than this,’ he whispered quietly. The woman just looked at him for a second.
‘We can only dream,’ she whispered back. ‘I’m too far involved now. There’s no escape for me, perhaps on my dying day, but not now.’
‘I can help you, show you,’ whispered William. ‘You don’t have to be a part of Terrafall’s lies.’
The woman’s face softened. ‘Don’t make this harder than it already is. I’ve never had to deal with a child before. And anyway, like I said, I’m a lost cause. Just do as you’re told.’
The man appeared on his other side and grabbed his arm. ‘It’s time.’
‘Please,’ William tried not to tremble, but his knees wouldn’t listen. ‘Help.’
‘I can’t,’ said the woman. She took a shivery breath, but didn’t look at him. This was even worse than the wolves.
They walked to a large iron door, decorated with the Terrafall logo. It opened with a quick kick from the man. The creak of old iron echoed into the darkest corners of the huge industrial building.
William shivered. He felt its cold, unsympathetic grip embrace him. He was scared. This was even worse than the wolves. There was no denying it. He’d never been this scared in his life.
He hoped Althea and the others had escaped the Peace Enforcers at the tracks, because if they hadn’t, they’d have probably been brought here. He shook his head. No, that couldn’t have happened. Igraine would’ve got them away. He was sure of it.
Inside, the jagged cross of Terrafall was everywhere, painted onto the walls, plastered into the ceiling and carved into the rows of benches, which looked onto a trough filled with melting candles.
They pulled William to the trough and just stood there in front of it, statue-like, in silence. He wanted to escape, that was plan A, but plan B could be something else. If he tried to think what would make them believe he was worthy, then this Cleric could decide he’d make a good sacrifice. He might be taken to the Graven Burials, right to his mother. He’d be on the inside – and could help Ichabod and the others gain access.
But what if they decided he wasn’t good enough. What then? He’d try and escape. But, if he couldn’t…
A fairly certain death was waiting for him.
A curtain stained with splotches of a bloody red substance rustled in front of them, and from out of it stepped a short man with slick ginger hair, smugness spread across his face.
Was this the guy responsible for deciding people’s fates? If so, William detested him already. He glared, wanting Althea’s strength, so he could kick his dirty, little… His train of thought was stopped abruptly.
‘Is this all you have for me today?’ The ginger man cut in, bulging, dirty brown eyes looking William up and down. ‘The other groups turned up with nothing and this is all you have for me?’
Good. If William was the only one who’d been captured, then surely that meant Althea, Igraine and Ori had escaped. He crossed his fingers, resisting the urge to form it into a fist.
Neither the man nor woman spoke. Were they scared of him? No, not of him, but of the power he held, decided William. They couldn’t be scared of his appearance; he looked like a gobsmacked weasel, for crying out loud.
‘Well? Speak!’
They both looked at each other, wincing, until they both said, ‘Yes Cleric.’
So this was the Cleric then. This pathetic man, who obviously got cheap thrills from what he was doing, was the Grim Reaper. William felt his knees shake slightly. Althea… He really did need her right now.
‘Oh dear, it seems the wilderness is no longer a place worth looking in. I think we need to re-structure, maybe send more of you back to Kentvale,’ said the Cleric, pacing the length of the trough.
‘But after the last snatch we were told to keep out of Kentvale. They said we needed to keep within our divisions,’ said the woman, taking a single step forward.
The Cleric stopped pacing, leapt towards the woman and raised his hand. His eyes closed tight as he brought his hand back down, narrowly missing her face. The woman flinched. ‘Do not question me!’ the Cleric spat. ‘I am the Cleric, Deputy Leader of Terrafall. If the Matriarch, Erisia, dies who will take her place at the head?’
The woman looked up, shadows crossing her eyes. ‘You,’ she whispered, almost forcing it out of her mouth.
‘Yes, so understand your place within the ranks!’
The man snarled at the woman. ‘Watch your tongue and show some goddamn respect!’
Ignoring him, the Cleric stepped right in front of William. He looked at his forehead, hot, sour breath filling William’s nostrils. He tried to inch away, moving his head backwards a little, but the woman held him too tightly.
‘What’s your calling?’ the Cleric said. He turned to William’s captors. ‘I’ve only had to process three youngsters before, and only one of them passed the test, so I wonder if he will?’
William didn’t answer. He looked at the woman, who just tilted her head, preparing herself for the response.
‘Well?’
‘I went to…’ don’t say school, William admonished himself, that’s not going to get you sacrificed, ‘…I mean, I worked at the hospital. I helped out there.’
‘Liar! What use would you be at the hospital? The boy is useless. I can feel it in my veins. Useless!’ spat the Cleric. ‘Couldn’t find me a decent sacrifice, just couldn’t do it, could you? What am I going to say to her now?’ He growled at William, ‘Impure, filthy, creature. Get rid of him.’
‘But he’s only a child, his heart will be pure,’ said the woman. ‘We should let him go. There’s nothing he can say to anyone. He’s alone. No one will believe him anyway, they’ll probably take him for a mumbling idiot.’
‘He may just be a child and his heart may be good, but the fact that he has no clear calling doesn’t make him an appealing sacrifice. He is a child who might grow to fight against us. There is no will to save running through his veins! How would that help the Earth? How would that appease the Tremor God?’ The Cleric held his hands in the air. ‘They would spit out his blood and punish us! His blood is nothing!’
‘That’s where you’re wrong!’ William erupted. ‘My calling is to save my mother from the likes of you! You’re all wrong. All of you! I’ll save everyone from your sick beliefs!’
The Cleric took a step back, his head tilting from shoulder to shoulder. ‘Oh my, oh my, my, my.’
‘I’ve come a long way to save her, so the gods are on my side,’ William added, trying to wound the freakish Cleric. ‘Tremors as gods! You’re flippin’ insane!’
The stout man in front of him seemed pleased at his sudden display of anger. ‘Yes, that’s good, very good. Perhaps you are someone of value… If I sacrificed him here, without telling Erisia, there would be no harm done if the tremors were unhappy with him.’
‘No, not here. We must follow the ritual.’ The woman clenching William’s shoulder was trembling. She didn’t want to be involved in this, but if she refused, what remained?
William looked up. Was she crying? She turned to him. ‘I was forced into this,’ she said in a low voice. ‘But I’ve had enough of the insanity, I’ll try to help you, if I can.’
The Cleric stared at her. ‘What are you saying, woman?’ But before he could say more, he staggered slightly and grabbed the curtains behind him. They fell from their hooks and took him down with them. ‘Tremor…’
The ground rose up and hurtled back down, splitting the concrete floor and sending William to his knees. The man, who was still standing behind the woman, was thrown into a hole in the floor. The Cleric tried to rise, but immediately fell forward into the trough, smacking his head on the corner. William quickly got up and the Cleric tried to grab his feet, but the woman pushed him away with a hard kick to the head
Rolling over, the Cleric was still, chest rising slowly.
The woman smiled at William. ‘Go, go now and save your mother!’
He grabbed her and gave her a quick hug. ‘Thank you so much. What made you change your mind?’
‘You give me hope for a better future. Go now, quick, the Cleric won’t be out for long.’