Circle of Wagons: The Gospel of Madness (Book 4 of 6) (The Gospel of Madness - (A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller Series))

by Georg Bruckmann

  Guilt. Reinhold. Gotta go. Cabinet. Come back. Dead. It's all over. You. No. Really. Body. Pigs. Damn it. Fuck. I was tied up, you know?

  Those last words had been a third voice, a man's voice. So that Mahler-guy was in the company of two other people. Wanda wondered which of the two had killed Robby. The man or the woman? The way the woman had cried, Wanda favored the thought that it had been the man. He'd be the first one she'd take out. Not because she cared so much about Robby, but because he seemed to be the more dangerous of the two. Slowly she approached the illuminated room at the end of the corridor.

  Testing the feel, she raised and lowered the sub-machine gun in her right. She wondered whether she should also draw her own pistol and use her left hand too. How strong might the recoil of Robbie's gun be? Would she need both hands to use the MP safely? She estimated that the magazine was still about two-thirds full.

  What are you, girl? What do you want to be? Hunter or prey?

  She answered the questions she had asked herself by grabbing the sub-machine gun with both hands and taking determined steps towards the light.

  ***

  Mariam had waited and watched for an eternity, at least that's how it seemed to her. In the beginning she had once seen Wanda's shadowy figure when she had used the flashlight to orient herself in the entrance hall. Even later, tiny traces of light had found their way out from time to time, and Mariam had been incredibly relieved every time she had noticed them. In the beginning she had been able to maintain her concentration very well, but the longer Wanda remained in the school building, the harder it was for Mariam to keep the pistol ready to fire and her index finger above the trigger. Moreover, the cold winter air penetrated through the open window and the girl froze. At some point she switched to holding the gun with only one hand instead of two and either put her free hand in a pocket or breathe into her small, slightly opened fist to warm it a little. Those were the hands. Mariam's head looked very similar. Like a mantra she had mumbled to herself in the beginning.

  I'm her protector. I'm her guardian. We look out for each other.

  Again and again her lips had formed these words silently, but at some point the black outlines of the school building were blurred before her eyes, and Robbie's face and Robbie's words had crept into her head without her being able to do anything about it. Mariam knew the man hadn't been her friend, but she understood what made him different from the degenerates or the red sleeves. He may not have been a friend, but he could have become one. She knew she couldn't afford any sadness. Now wasn't the time. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't influence her feelings. And when she was done remembering Robby, who was now lying on the cold floor underneath her, it were Shepard´s, Gustav's and Tommy's faces that were poking around in her head. Would it always be like this? Would they always leave behind people who were benevolent? She didn't hope so. She hoped that ...

  Two salvos crashed through the night and ripped Mariam from her thoughts. The noises were followed by long-lasting echoes as the sound waves were thrown back and forth between the buildings of the small town. Instantly Mariam tore her left hand out of her trouser pocket and grabbed her pistol again with both hands. Her eyes feverishly searched the walls of the school, and almost with a degree of panic she tried to recognize something.

  Just a second.

  Two seconds.

  Three seconds.

  A cry of pain followed the shots of fire, but Mariam knew that there could be no direct connection with the shots. Too much time had already passed.

  Was it a man or a woman who had screamed over there?

  Mariam could still not see any movement in the schoolyard. Why was time so slow? Was Wanda all right? Was she hurt? Was she... was she dead?

  Only now did Mariam realize that she had never thought about what she would do if Wanda died. She had always trusted that Wanda would always be there for her. She wondered if she would be able to find her way back to Gustav and Shepard, or the polyclinic on her own. Mariam was quite different about the thought. Then she found it amazing that although she had already experienced so many terrible things, it had taken her so long to realize that nothing was certain or could be taken for granted.

  Nothing.

  Her fingers were playing with the handle of her gun.

  She lifted her index finger and let it sink again. She lifted her middle finger and let it sink again. She lifted her ring finger and lowered it again. And as she was about to lower her little finger again, she noticed the dancing light on the ground floor of the school.

  Someone came out.

  Her grip got tighter.

  Via the sight, she aimed at the entrance area of the school and tried to keep her gun quiet. She knew that it was not possible to shoot with a handgun at this distance. Wanda had told her that in such a situation you should never aim at the head, but always at the center of the body. Mariam was going to stick to it. If anyone other than Wanda came out of the building, or if Wanda was in captivity, Mariam was willing to use the weapon or flee, as the case may be. Loyalty was important, Wanda had said. But she had also said that you had to know when it was time to go. If loyalty had become a bond. That you were only of use to those you liked when you were alive. Mariam made a firm commitment to react correctly and courageously to the new situation, whatever it might look like. She noticed the taste of blood in her mouth. She bit her lip. She drove her tongue over the wound without looking away from the schoolyard. The wound was not very large, but it hurt, and it would take a few days for it to heal.

  I'm so stupid.

  Mariam pushed this involuntary thought away from her and shifted her weight so that she had a firm footing. The light was approaching. It danced and flickered to the beat of the footsteps of the person holding the lamp. Then they came out.

  Mariam took her finger off the trigger and sighed with relief.

  It was Wanda, and she had the doctor with her. The man was bleeding from a wound in his face and another one further up his skull. Mariam would have loved to have called Wanda's name. She would have liked to have waved and cheered so much. But she suppressed that impulse. Wanda had said that it was part of adulthood to control one's emotions, and Mariam wanted Wanda to be proud of her.

  So she didn't do anything like that, but put her gun away and started gathering her belongings as best she could in the darkness around her, and then, when she was sure that she hadn't forgotten anything, started to leave the house and go down to Wanda in the schoolyard.

  ***

  On the schoolyard, only a meter away from Robbie's corpse Wanda forced doctor Mahler to his knees. She took a look at her rifle, which was still laying next to the body. It wasn't in Mahler's range. She had not said a word to him after she had shot the woman and the other man. She had been precise, had fought down every feeling of fear and excitement. Before her inner eye she had foreseen the trajectory of the projectiles. She had visualized how they would hit the man's forehead and, immediately afterwards, the woman's chest. It had worked out exactly as she had planned. The whole thing had lasted a maximum of two seconds. Doctor Mahler had still been busy pulling his ridiculous revolver out of his waistband when his two friends were already dead in their blood. Although his movements were frozen and he had raised his hands when his brain had finally processed what had just happened, Wanda had still pulled the machine gun over his skull twice to nip any contradictory spirit in the bud. Now, as he knelt before her in Robbie's blood, she could see the laceration in the light of the flashlight. He'd survive. She didn't feel sorry for the man. While holding the barrel of the sub-machine gun pointed at her prisoner, she searched Robbie's body. It wasn't long before she found the cable ties. When Doctor Mahler was tied - for the second time that day - she roughly instructed him to stand up again. He obeyed in silence. As he stood, Wanda pulled him by the shoulder around to face her and directed the flashlight's beam directly into his face. He didn't blink, but closed his eyes immediately and didn't try to see anything. It was too m
uch for him. He had surrendered - for the moment at least - completely. Wanda couldn't help wondering how she would react if she was attacked three times on the same day and lost more and more friends in each of those attacks.

  She couldn´t.

  She slung the strap of her rifle over her shoulder and pushed him forward. She had to come up with something to keep him secured all night. If her and Mariam had managed to release their shackles, then he could do the same. Wanda didn't really believe that he had the energy to do it, but he was too valuable for her to leave it to chance. In addition, she would need some time to examine Robbie's belongings and his body more closely. Wanda hoped that there would be a clue somewhere pointing to the current destination or at least the temporary whereabouts of the Motorized.

  And, well, while she was doing that, she couldn't keep an eye on Dr. Mahler. Mariam could do one of the two tasks, but Wanda didn't want the girl to have to fiddle with Robbie's body, nor did she want Doctor Mahler to seize the opportunity to influence Mariam, whether through gestures or words, or simply by looking as pathetic as he did at the time. No one could afford pity today. Now that she had formulated these thoughts in her head, she was no longer so sure whether it had been a good idea to lead her prisoner out of the building. Wouldn't it have been better to lock him up somewhere in school? How could you be sure a prisoner wouldn't try to escape? She was thinking for a second.

  Oh, yeah, that would work. She took him inside, back to the school.

  ***

  Again Mariam suppressed the impulse to call for Wanda as she saw her turn and walk back into the dark, somehow spooky building. She pushed Doctor Mahler forward with the barrel of the sub-machine gun, with the barrel of Robbie's sub-machine gun, as Mariam only now became aware. Wanda had picked up her own rifle and was now carrying it over her shoulder. The flashlight in Wanda's hands illuminated only a small part of the building, making it look even bigger. Mariam followed them about ten meters apart. She had heard Wanda and Shepard talk about schools before, and now she realized that this was the first time in her life that she really set foot in such an institution. She let her gaze run here and there, but without losing sight of the two shadow figures in front of her, and tried to imagine what it might have been like to learn here with many other children. So far she had only ever received her lessons from Shepard and Wanda, but she had a rudimentary picture of what such lessons might have looked like back in the day. The thought of hundreds of children who had been brought here by their parents day after day was so overwhelming for her that she forced herself not to think any further.

  From the front, from Wanda, quiet, incomprehensible words sounded. To Mariam's astonishment, Wanda and Dr. Mahler had stopped in front of a staircase and, instead of going up the stairs, turned to the right towards a door. Wanda directed the man with the barrel of the sub-machine gun to the side and pushed the handle down. With a barely audible squeak, the door swung open to the outside, and Wanda directed the beam of her lamp into the room behind. She took half a step inside, making sure there was no danger coming from in there, then she dragged Dr. Mahler behind her and closed the door again. Suddenly Mariam was in the dark.

  Damn it. Damn it.

  She´d better have called. Should she do it now? Or would Wanda be angry? It's been easy to upset Wanda lately. Mariam had noticed this, but she always blamed it on the circumstances, on the evil world in which they had to live in. With small steps Mariam went ahead, where in her opinion the door should be. A faint, barely perceptible glimmer of light came out under the door, as she recognized with relief as she had come close enough. As she reached for the door handle to push it down and open the door, one of the two backpacks - Mariam remembered that it was Wanda's backpack that she had also taken with her - slid down her left arm, and she had to use all her strength to keep it from landing on the floor and making noise. Boiling hot it penetrated her consciousness of how stupid she had been.

  What if it really made a lot of noise? What if Wanda would be scared? What if Wanda would be so scared that she had blindly fired a few volleys through the wood without knowing that it was Mariam who was behind the door?

  I'm so stupid.

  She had to learn to make better choices. In such a situation, it didn't matter if Wanda was angry about her being here. By her desire to please Wanda, she had put herself in danger. She took all her courage and called Wanda's name.

  Mariam heard quick footsteps and a suppressed swearing.

  Oh, no, she's pissed.

  Mariam braced herself. As she had feared, Wanda´s face was indeed distorted in rage when the door blew open and she appeared behind it, the machine gun at the ready and the flashlight in the other hand. But in the fraction of a second in which the light gripped Mariam, the facial expression changed from hot aggression to a loving smile.

  "You should have stayed upstairs, in the apartment."

  Mariam lowered her gaze first, but only for a second, then she looked up again.

  "I thought it was over."

  They both whispered.

  "What are you doing here? With him?"

  Mariam tried to look past Wanda to take a look into the room and at the prisoner, Wanda noticed.

  "Come in first."

  Wanda underlined her words with a waving gesture and stepped aside. When Wanda had closed the door behind Mariam again and the beam of the flashlight illuminated the room and the prisoner, Mariam was speechless.

  In the middle of the room was a school desk. There was a chair on this desk and on this chair sat Doctor Mahler. Wanda had put him a noose around the neck and fastened the loose end to a heating pipe running closely below the ceiling and then pulled the whole thing so tightly that no freedom of movement remained to the man.

  His wrists were tied behind the back with cable ties, Mariam deducted from his posture.

  "Will you... will you execute him? What...?"

  But then Mariam finally understood, and when Wanda spoke, Mariam already knew what she was going to say.

  "No, of course not. I just don't want him making nonsense."

  Yes, now Mariam could understand it. If Doctor Mahler would make a wrong move, he would inevitably fall and hang himself, as close as the chair stood at the edge of the table. In this way Wanda prevented any jerking and tugging at the shackles.

  "You know, Mariam, I actually didn't want you to get involved in this. But now you're here. I need to go over to Robby and search his stuff again. We have to find out where his people were going."

  Mariam, who had put the two backpacks on the floor in the meantime, took a step back as Wanda walked towards them and opened hers. She looked around it for a little moment and finally pulled out a thick scarf that she had actually taken with her to put on a bandage in case of need, then stepped behind Doctor Mahler, pulled up another chair and stood on it. She used the cloth to gag Doctor Mahler, regardless of the painful sounds he made. One last time she checked the noose around the man's neck, the cable ties on his wrists and the gag she had just applied.

  "Well, Mariam, I'm gonna go back and search Robby and his stuff. I'll hurry. I'll be right back."

  With these words, Wanda pushed the machine gun into Mariam's hand, grabbed her own rifle leaning against the wall, and wanted to leave the room. Suddenly she paused when she noticed she had to take the flashlight with her if she wanted to see something outside. A little perplexed, she stopped just outside the door. Finally she shrugged her shoulders and then waved her flashlight apologetically around, immersing the room in flickering light.

  "Oh. I'm afraid you'll have to come with me if you don't want to stand in the dark with him."

  When they both left the room, Mariam turned once more to Doctor Mahler. His eyes weren't following his two kidnappers. He didn't seem to care what they were doing. He was just staring straight ahead.

  Shepard

  Late the next morning I sat in the cafeteria of the polyclinic with Petra, Scarface, Mrs. Simon and Mr. Mack. The Hurters, at least some of the
m, presumably those who had nothing to do, stayed near us and gave us curious glances. I was surprised Gustav wasn't here. One should have thought that he would be interested in this first meeting of the leaders of the two parties, especially since he was so hopeful that these two communities could benefit from each other. Mrs. Simon and Mr. Mack had only come with a small delegation, with five men, just enough to bring along the inverters and the clothes they had taken from me in the apartment tower at the beginning of my captivity, as promised. I hadn't opened the jute bag containing them yet, but I was sure they were perfectly clean. One-legged Sonja hadn't come with the delegation.

  I appreciated that she obviously was someone who preferred to contribute outside on patrol duty rather than meet up for a palaver. As for the Palaver, I can only say that Petra and Mrs. Simon immediately found a wire to each other. Her obvious pregnancy had been anything but an obstacle. The taciturn Scarface and the so civilized Mr. Mack Simon had taken a little longer to find common ground. But now that they had sniffed each other over instant coffee and canned meat for half an hour, this first conversation didn't go badly. That pleased me for Gustav´s sake, but also for all the others, because with the combined forces the situation for both parties no longer looked quite so desperate. I listened attentively as they slowly approached each other and after a while moved on to discuss how they could be of use to each other. As was to be expected, they soon realized that the High People had more manpower, military strength and weapons than the Hurters of the polyclinic. The Hurters, however, lived in a much larger building, which was much closer to the Neckar River, ensuring a comfortable water supply.

  I mean, if I imagined that Mr. Mack and Mrs. Simon had spent the last few years mainly in their beehive-like tower - how big, how huge did the extensive complex of the polyclinic seem to them? The Hurters needed protection and the High People needed a safe and comfortable place for their numerous offspring. I still couldn't give an estimate of how numerous these people actually were, but from what I had seen there, I knew there were not just a few. Maybe Gustav was right. Perhaps together they would be able to turn the polyclinic into a safe, livable place, one that could be a home for future generations of people.