The Last Church

by Richard Lee

  It was dark, he discovered as he opened the door. The stairs lead down into blackness. He found the light switch and flicked it sideways. The bulb exploded into light but still it did not reach all the way down. There were three other lights down there, controlled by the same switch at the bottom of the stairs. But the thought of entering that blackness was itself scary. And had always been scary to Peter. As a child he wouldn’t go down there, not even with his father. At the time, his father seemed super powerful and could beat anyone, but it was questionable if he could beat a monster. Maybe one, but not two or three, that was either Spiderman’s job or the X-men’s job, not his daddy’s.

  He would not venture down there and, until today, hadn’t found a reason to go down there as an adult. He had thought all monsters and devils, or what-have-you, were bullshit. An adult’s idea of a joke to freak out little kids, forcing them to obey their parents through fear.

  But now he wasn’t so sure. The Meph-Man had given him this book, he had fought the Meph-Man, and he was about to follow the Meph-Man’s rulebook. And to tell the truth, he was about to enter a place he feared as a child and still feared now.

  It was bound to need a little cleaning or clearing out before he even tackled the problem of getting the bookcase here. Slowly he eased onto the first step. It creaked loudly in protest to his weight. All the steps creaked. Unused for years, he wouldn’t be surprised if dry rot had set in. He walked close to the side where most of the strength was and held onto the banister, just in case.

  He found the light switch at the bottom of the stairs easily enough. It was utter blackness all around. His eyes couldn’t grow accustomed to this darkness, it was too thick. With a pounding heart, he stretched out a shaky hand to the light switch. Three bulbs sprang to life, forcing away the blackness.

  What he faced came as a shock.

  The entire basement was earth. Hard packed earth. The three lights hung from the roof by naked wire, the earth floor was uneven and there was an old orange toolbox pushed up against the wall. Apart from that the place was empty. It was perfect. It was as wide as the house and just as long. He had no idea basements looked like this. His pictures of basements came from movies and magazines. Mostly they had a concrete floor. This didn’t seem like a basement at all, more like a hole dug under the house.

  He opened the toolbox and found a sixteen-piece screwdriver set and a small hammer. Inside he also found a thin chisel and removed that as well. Picking up all the items, he struggled back up the stairs, switching off the lights as he went.

  Upstairs, he kicked the door closed. As it slammed shut he thought he heard a sound. It was a deep and loud groan of hopelessness. He shook it off as the house settling. But the sound had come after the door was shut. A shiver of ice ran up and down his spine. He suddenly didn’t want to be alone.

  It’s your imagination, he told himself, grow up. There’s nothing down there but dirt and cobwebs.

  The bookcase turned out to be easy to take apart once he got the books out of the way.

  He put them outside on the sidewalk with a hand written note reading: Free for all, please take. Carrying the books out, he almost knocked over the vase. This he also added a note to, reading: Sold to Germany.

  The chisel was very useful. It slid between the shelves and casing like it was designed for this very purpose. Peter was delighted. Once the bookcase was in pieces, he made a cup of coffee and settled in his office chair for a quick breather. Life was looking up. Soon he would be king of the world and everybody’s friend. And then perhaps he could look again at that Internet thingy.

  It would take three trips to get the entire bookcase home, but he realized he didn’t need the entire thing. Sides, top and bottom were all he needed. He lugged them out to the car. It was difficult to fit the pieces in but he managed by rolling down the windows of the passenger and rear doors. The driver’s seat was cramped, but at least the trip was fast and off the main street where the police waited for people like him.

  People like him? That was interesting, considering he wasn’t going to be one of those people by tomorrow. He was destined to be everything and anything he wanted and he wanted a lot, unlike the bank manager who gave his soul and life blood for a job. A job he could have studied for and attained eventually.

  Peter took one last look at his shop, thinking about the things he would do to make it irresistible for shoppers. It was going to be more than an antique shop by the time he finished with it.

  If his parents returned to see what he had done with the shop, they sure would be proud.

  Chapter Seven

  Area City 2368

  Eric’s cruiser rose and fell over the bumpy, rocky, orange-crusted ground. Any signs of what streets there used to be were non-existent. All passengers wore their cross belts and had their visors down. Eric was trying to follow the satellite’s direction codes, but the reception this far from the dome power supply was weak. Rachael was having similar problems accessing her e-mail in-box. The loader was usually instantaneous but at the moment it was as slow as cable. The others seemed to be reading the radiation levels. Both Josh and Michael had serious looks as they studied, Penny looked bored, and Ami was smiling. She was obviously looking at another site. And Rachael didn’t need to guess what that site contained.

  I can’t get a decent location reading, Eric complained. It was his fifth complaint in twenty minutes, and it was the same complaint.

  “Why don’t you just follow the professor’s map?”

  It’s incomplete, that’s why. Look at it. Eric closed the vision screen and brought up the professor’s map. He had saved it from the e-mail and copied it to the cruiser’s hard drive.

  Looking it over closely for a few minutes, Rachael agreed it was incomplete and was possibly the professor’s worst map to date. It showed satellite photos of the area they were meant to go, followed by vague directions of heading. Below the directions was an old street map of Opera Sands with an X marking the spot of Peter Clement’s house. A large semi-circle at the side of the map indicated the start of the dome within which Area City prospered.

  Oh, my God, Eric said. His audio was a fraction louder than a whisper, yet everyone heard him clearly. It was barely a speech thought, but it gained everyone’s attention. He slowed the cruiser to a stop and stared through the front windshield.

  The other’s followed his gaze.

  As one, they all lifted their visors and stared at something that wasn’t supposed to be in Zone Three. Satellite pictures showed only orange desert land.

  Ami was the first to speak. “That’s not what I think it is...is it?”

  If you think it’s a shrub, you’d be correct.

  “We can’t be in Zone Three,” Michael said. “There’s nothing out here.”

  Well, Michael, I’d like to agree with you, but we are in Zone Three and there is definitely something out here.

  “Check your scanners, Eric.”

  Rachael, everything is working fine.

  “Then why is there a shrub in Zone Three?”

  “And,” Penny added, “why are there more over there?” She was looking out the side window. Far in the distance green smudges covered the landscape.

  “This can’t be right.”

  One here and a bunch over there. Eric was looking at Josh. Are we both thinking the same thought?

  Josh smiled for the first time that day. “Let’s check it out.”

  The professor’s map points in the opposite direction.

  “Let’s have just a quick look, shall we?” Penny said. “After all, nothing’s supposed to grow out here.”

  “The satellites must be faulty.” Ami leaned across Michael and Josh to get a better look. “I mean, how could it miss such a large area?”

  Who votes for a quick look?

  The occupants of Eric’s cruiser were silent.

  “I don’t think we need a vote,” Rachael said. “Let’s go.”

  Eric reversed a few feet before turning the whe
el hard right and starting off in the direction of the green smudges, which, after a few moments, took on shapes of small trees and grass and general forest type nature.

  “No one’s going to believe this.”

  “Document it,” Michael ordered.

  I already am, Eric said. And the video recorder is running fine.

  Ten feet from the newly discovered nature, the cruiser stopped.

  “Why did you stop?” Rachael asked.

  I didn’t. Eric ran his hand over the ignition pad three times without effect. Suddenly the lights inside the cruiser died. Using his visor, he checked the cruiser’s systems. This could be very bad, he said.

  “What’s happened?” Worry coated Penny’s words. She, like the others in the back, was leaning forward and staring out the window. The car had stopped on the orange ground. Behind them a desert. In front, a paradise.

  Everything’s dead, Eric answered.

  “How can that be? Are the batteries faulty?”

  The system is a hundred percent.

  “I don’t understand what’s happened then,” Rachael stated.

  Josh pushed a button to open the door. It vanished into the roof. He climbed out. “Maybe,” he offered, “we’re not supposed to be seeing this.”

  “What do you mean?” Ami said, also climbing out.

  “It could be a government secret.”

  “Then why were we permitted entry?” Rachael asked.

  All the doors were open now. Josh looked at Penny and smiled.

  “What?” she queried.

  “It’s a secret, so the guards don’t know about it and then he sees you and we’re in.”

  “That’s the worst reasoning I’ve ever heard.” Penny stood with her hands on her hips. “Don’t you dare try blaming this on me.”

  It’s not a bad thing, Eric said. We are the first of the public to know about this. Have you ever seen this much greenery in the dome?

  “He’s right,” Rachael added. “Then again, if the government doesn’t know and the satellite’s faulty... We have a major find on our hands.”

  “Then why did the cruiser stop?” Ami asked.

  Josh bent down and picked up a rock. “Could be a force-field.” He threw the small rock at the greenery. It bounced off a small tree. “Nope, no force-field.”

  An electromagnetic field would stop the cruiser and any other type of vehicle, Eric said, being the last of the group to leave the cruiser and stand grouped around Josh. Shall we venture forth?

  “Sounds like a plan,” Ami said.

  “There is no plan to this,” Michael said.

  “God, don’t be so anal.” Rachael pushed past the group to stand at the lead. Michael moved up beside her. To him, she asked, “Ready?”

  Michael nodded. “Just wish I’d brought my visor camera.”

  Rachael faced the group. “Let’s grab some samples. Some leafs or a small plant we can dig out.” She looked directly at Eric and said, “Can you get the instruments from the cruiser?”

  Not a problem, Eric said and ran over to the cruiser. Next to the driver’s seat he found the manual “boot open” lever. The boot popped up, rising on hinges. From it he removed an old leather carry bag. It was gift to them from the professor for their first expedition. Inside, it contained the latest digging and sample gathering tools.

  He looked up to see Rachael wandering away from the group. She had always been the strongest of them all, always ready for a new challenge no matter how wild or dangerous it seemed at the time.

  Eric came to a realization, albeit a little late, as he watched his team-mates watch their leader walk straight into a forest that wasn’t supposed to be here. She possessed a certain type of curiosity which none of them had. And it was that curiosity that gave her the courage to be the leader. Michael Fuller was jealous, plain and simple, and that was bad. It was jealousy that started the big shouting fights and tiny barely mumbled disagreements. Rachael would always come out on top, as the team would follow her, not Michael.

  Michael was saying something now, but Eric couldn’t hear very well. Usually he heard their soft chattering from a greater distance than this. There must still be some radiation, or at least enough to disturb the hearing transmitter. He would adjust it when the chance arose. But Rachael was pushing through some fairly heavy greenery and she needed the contents of this bag.

  If Eric knew her as well as he thought, then he knew the following actions she’d take. It would come as no surprise if she led the team through the entire forest (if that was what this turned out to be) to the other side of Zone Three.

  He saw Ami turn to him and say something, but he couldn’t hear the words. All he heard were a jumble of sounds and it scared him. He couldn’t remember a time, since he was ten, when he had not heard those around him.

  Eric held his hand in a ‘wait’ motion. He hadn’t removed the bag yet and pretended to be searching for it, when in truth he was accessing his transmitter controls. What he saw worried him. All the information and formatting were in perfect working order as was the equipment itself. His last hope was that radiation was affecting the transmitter performance. That hope turned out to be false as the radiation level registered at 0.4. He was baffled. There was no other reason for his equipment to not work perfectly.

  He grabbed the bag and noticed the whole team had moved into the greenery following Rachael’s lead, as he knew they would. He jogged to catch up.

  Ami saw him and waited for him. She leaned against a large tree. She was saying something with a large smile but Eric couldn’t make out any sounds now. Her smile vanished when he didn’t reply or show any reaction to her comment.

  “Are you alright?” she asked when he reached her.

  Eric was able to guess what she had said from the movement of her lips. He pointed to his transmitter and mouthed the words: I can’t hear anything.

  “What?”

  Eric sighed and pulled out his transmitter. He imitated punching it and then pointed to his ears and shrugged.

  “It’s broken?”

  Eric nodded.

  Ami checked the unit and frowned. “I’d better let Rachael know.” She moved on at a jog. Eric had no idea what she’d just said, but he followed her anyway.

  Everyone had caught up with Rachael by the time they reached her. She stood in a large clearing. There were swings and a couple of slides and a wooden castle and an assortment of other children’s playthings, including a sandbox. To the left of them was a short dirt track. They could just see the start or end of a tar-sealed road.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Rachael announced, “I believe we have stumbled onto something big.”

  Chapter Eight

  Christchurch 1994

  The altar turned out better than Peter expected. He had polished it to a shine and the overhead lights danced on the dark wood markings. He was up all night trying his best to even out the ground but had found it too difficult, so instead he dug deeper in the centre of the basement to create a hole for the altar. The hole was about thirty centimeters deep. Once he had made the altar, he struggled to get it in place and then packed soil around the sides to pack it in tight.

  He had followed the instructions for making it perfectly. It was the first thing to turn out looking like it was supposed to.

  Peter had tried to make other things by hand a few years ago. He had even attended a carpentry course at the local polytechnic but dropped out after the first term, discovering he had no ability to build. The bookcase he made had uneven shelves, the letterbox leaked and most of his straight cut projects had angles. He quickly realized this was not the profession for him and went home. Two weeks later he was given ownership of the antique shop.

  It was almost three in the morning when Peter finished in the basement. His body was covered in sweat and he desperately wanted a shower. But he had one more thing to do before he cleaned up and went to bed. He needed a sacrificial dagger, a knife especially designed for him. A personal item.


  The thought of killing another person was alien to him and he doubted if he could actually go through with it. If he wanted all his wishes to come true, then he would have to do the deed. He hoped that at the time it would come easily to him. Would he be able to drive the dagger into another human being? He hoped so, because he wanted the life he had so far only dreamed about.

  In the kitchen he found a large cutting knife. One of those made from the same material as the space shuttle. Always shiny and never needing sharpening. He wiped the blade on his damp shirt and headed back down to the basement with the photocopies in his back pocket.

  The photocopies were the instructions for the altar and his dagger.

  He had read the pages a thousand times and was confident he didn’t need them when he performed the ceremony. But just in case, he would read then once again before starting.

  He opened the door to the basement and headed to the altar. He wasn’t scared of this place anymore. It held no fear over him. It had no special power, no magic. There was nothing down there to fear.

  Then why was his heart pounding so hard? Why did it feel like it wanted to break out of his body and escape?

  Peter knew the answers to his questions. He had heard the same groaning sound half a dozen times while he was building and digging. It seemed to come from all four directions, softly at first then louder as he kept working.

  He started to ignore them. He no longer cared what made the sounds, or what was being said. He blocked all external thoughts and concentrated on the task at hand.

  As he reached the end of the steps, he noticed one of the lights had blown. It didn’t matter as the other two looked fine, but it did leave one section of the basement in darkness.

  Straining, Peter could barely make out the far wall. He sat facing it and removed the photocopies from his back pocket. He read the ceremony rites again and, confident he could perform them without a hitch, he proceeded.

  He removed his shirt and used it to wipe the altar. He wiped the cutting knife again and stood before the altar shirtless.