Read Zardoz Online

Authors: John Boorman

Zardoz (16 page)

She looked at them and raised her arms, as if in blessing.

“Death approaches. We are all mortal again. Now we can say ‘yes’ to death, but never again ‘no’. Now we must make our farewells to each other, to the sun and moon, the trees and sky, the earth and rock—the landscape of our long waking dream.”

She turned and faced Zed. She was vulnerable, trusting.

All eyes were upon him. She mutely pleaded for death from him. Her arms raised in entreaty.

“Zed, the Liberator, liberate me now according to your promise!”

He raised his gun, but could not pull the trigger. Consuella was at his side.

“Do it! Do it!”

“All that I was is gone.”

His hand shook and fell as he spoke.

A shot burst across the air. Redness blossomed at Avalow’s breast, she swayed as a sigh of happiness came from the watchers. They threw their hands into the air with joy as Avalow fell into the pool, shattering its stillness with her beauty, her blood spreading out into its waters.

Eternals crowded around him, not knowing that another had killed her.

“Kill me next!” a girl begged him.

Arthur spoke to Friend. “Let’s kill each other, Friend. Have a proper regard for irony.” He thought for a moment, and with a flourish produced a white bird from thin air, saying, “One last trick!”

Friend applauded.

Exterminators were in the tree-line firing into the Eternals. Their horrific masks were a sad comment on the fallen head of Zardoz that lay hidden in thick woods a hundred yards from them. Shots spattered out.

Friend took Arthur’s hand. They looked around for one last time. Friend took a bullet and fell. “Success! It was all a joke.” He paused. “Is that all? Ah…it hurts,” and with that, he was finished.

Arthur toppled.

The Exterminators ran out from their cover across the lawn, putting the dying to the sword, with expertise finishing off those who still lived. The Eternals thanked them as they died.

Zed took Consuella’s hand and, bent nearly double, ran zigzag through the crowd toward the thick woods nearby.

The Exterminators were baffled by being surrounded by their willing victims. The bodies lay across the neat lawn, their bright clothing and distorted limbs looking like a ravaged flower bed. The killers, their masks giving them cruel, dead gazes, continued in their task.

High above, at the east end of the valley, at the lip of the rise, May stopped her column, pulled the collar of her cloak up against the wind, and looked back at the bright lake beside which she had lived and died, so long and often. Far below was the house, dwarfed now. Little shots, rifle and revolver fire, drifted up to her, and were snatched away by the wind and distance. Her eyes filled with tears. Then she turned and rode away.

The leader of the Exterminators rose from his work and looked about him. He put his hand to his mouth and called.

“Zed!”

There was no reply, except for a few scattered shots that echoed through the trees.

“Zed!” He turned and called again, in a new direction. “Zed!”

He called out to his leader to all the points of the compass, north, east, south, and west. He must be near. If he was still alive. Had he died in opening the wall?

“Zed!”

Zed was enclosed by the thick woods. The crashed head was in front of them. It lay on its side, half buried, the once grotesque mouth now a doorway. It had fallen straight into the wood, not disturbing the outer brush. No one would suspect it was here. He took Consuella into the mouth, into the cavern that had brought him here.

While the Exterminators looted and destroyed that which they could never understand, Zed comforted Consuella. They could hide safely here until the storm had passed.

Days later the last of the soldiers had gone. Zed ventured out for food and soon returned. This was their home.

They lived as one, through many seasons, Consuella bearing him a son, who grew and left them—a single voyager, going out into the light, perhaps to meet May’s children.

Zed and Consuella grew old together. Death took them, then time took their bones into dust, until all that remained was his gun, rusting beside a handprint on the rock. 

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