She did up the Mantis’s fly and climbed back onto his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Which commune is closer?” the Mantis said.
“Mountain Peak,” the Worm said.
“Then the Mountain Peak it is,” the Mantis said. “We leave at dawn.”
“Very good, sir,” the Worm said.
He turned to leave. Huh. And he thought the Mantis would give up the Amazon. Perhaps he was wrong and the Mantis really had found his ideal partner. Would wonders never cease?
“Wait,” the Mantis said.
“Yes, sir?” The Worm turned on his heel and performed an about-turn.
“Take her,” the Mantis said. “Best keep the men in good spirits. Some of them won’t make it through tomorrow.”
The Amazon snapped around, locking eyes on the leader.
“No,” she said. “You can’t.”
“I already have,” the Mantis said. “I’ll miss you. For a little while.”
The Amazon screamed. A powerful tearing of the desert night air. She might as well ring a dinner bell. The men were used to hearing that wail. It meant fun times were ahead.
If she wasn’t in shock, she would have known that the smart thing to do was to use those strong teeth of hers and tear the Mantis’s throat out. There would be no use in pleading for her life. It was already forfeit.
“Please,” the Amazon said. “Don’t do this.”
The two men sat around the campfire took hold of the girl and dragged her, kicking and screaming, toward the rest of the Reaver clan. The Amazon punched, bit, spat, and scratched but it was no good. There were too many of them. And they were all hungry for her. Weeks of watching her pleasure the Mantis had driven them near to madness.
“Thank you for your kindness,” the Worm said, bowing with a flourish of his cape.
Whether it was a sack of oats or a human life, once they had been entered into his ledger, there was no getting out. Numbers were numbers, no matter what they represented. The Worm made a mark in his ledger and moved on. There was a lot to prepare for the attack.
He would be getting the scraps after the men had finished with her. And with a strong girl like that, there ought to be plenty of her left for him to use. He wasn’t averse to cadavers but living things provided so much more entertainment.
And soon, the men would have a great deal more women to pleasure themselves with.
34.
THE MANTIS sat back in his chair and looked down on the campfire, watching as the girl he’d once loved—and yes, he had loved her once—was handed from one man to another. Even the female members of the gang enjoyed her.
Yes, the Mantis thought, watching without expression. She had been quite something.
The Mantis pulled on his cigarette with a cold expression that never wavered. Love was meant to last forever. In his experience, it was always fleeting. He’d just have to keep on searching for his one true love. One day he might just find her. Until then, he would have to just keep playing the field.
Mantis by name, Mantis by nature.
35.
“I DO,” Jacob said, cupping his new bride’s face in both his hands and kissing her on the lips.
The audience cheered. A cacophonous roar that rocked the benches as they stood and clapped. Some men put their hands around their mouths and shouted: “Save it for tonight!” Whatever words they said after that were lost to the commune’s cheers.
Weddings were not common at the Mountain Peak commune, so they were big events when they actually took place. With little in the way of resources, there was never a single couple getting married. Today, there were three. Three grooms, three brides, one priest. One single feast shared between them. A wedding wasn’t only about those getting married but the entire commune coming together.
The community was growing, mostly from wanderers and stragglers who managed to survive the mountains and forests with all their dangerous and deadly creatures. They accepted everyone who came, so long as they were willing to do their part. Everyone was given the choice of which area of the commune they wanted to work in—so long as there was demand for them—which there almost always was. If not, they were placed on the wailing list.
People liked doing things they were good at. And if they lacked the natural ability to carry out a certain job, then they need simply work harder to reach the required standard. Each department created its own exams, not to test the trainee, but to encourage them to constantly improve. Stephen taught his students basic procedures and encouraged them to carry them out whenever possible. Simple, everyday procedures first, then tougher ones. It was understood that none of them would live forever. They needed to pass on the skills they’d developed over a lifetime to the next generation. Donald was building a commune for the long term.
A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they shall never sit in.
The commune’s current size would have struggled to pass as a village in the old world, much less a town. But so had the settlements created by the first pioneers. If there was a target, it could be hit. Each day that passed was a step in the right direction. New people came, old people went.
Cries of excitement. Jubilant claps. Tears of sadness. The usual ingredients of a wedding. Sometimes parents found it difficult to let go. But they wouldn’t be moving far. Only within the confines of the small community. Even so, the clingy parents came to Donald to ask for their children not be moved to the opposite wall. Evidently, they didn’t want to have to walk the extra five minutes if they didn’t need to.
Donald was careful to always ignore the parents’ requests. They were never happy and he would be wasting his time if he attempted to meet them. And when there were two sets of demanding parents. . . Donald shook his head at the thought. He’d learned long ago to trust his gut.
The commune sat at the long benches they usually used for their daily meals. Chef had worked hard creating a culinary masterpiece today. The food was already in the middle of the tables, and everyone looked hungry.
Fatty kept reaching under the food’s cover, picking at something that had caught his eye. It could have been anything. Fatty had a weakness for all tastes and flavours. No matter how many times his mother slapped his hand, his pudgy fingers kept finding their way under the covers. He was the only member of the commune who managed to maintain—or even increase—his bodyweight. Donald had Jamie keep a close eye on his friend, certain he must have a secret stash of food somewhere, but it turned out to be false. The boy was a marvel.
Lucy, the new girl, sat beside Jamie. Donald had found a pretty dress for her to wear. She had a pink bow on her head. Jamie hadn’t so much as tittered when he saw her wearing it. A sign they were getting to be good friends. Donald was pleased, if cautious about the commune’s latest addition.
She was clapping along with the other guests, cheering and joining in with the celebrations. Jamie smiled, watching her. She caught his eye a couple of times, beaming broad and wide, and then turned and looked away again. Shy and bashful, but exuberant with energy when she cheered.
Yes, they were getting very close.
The ceremony was over. Donald took the first step onto the stage. Then a bunch of people rushed the stage from the opposite side. Donald took the step back down. A few special shows had been put on especially for those getting married. Friends and family sang songs and danced, the audience providing the backing track and encouragement to some of the more bashful performers. They were among friends and there was no fear for them getting booed. In fact, those who performed the worst got the biggest cheers.
Finally, it was Donald’s turn. He hesitated once as it looked like someone else was about to ascend the stairs instead of him. But it turned out to be a false start. Donald affixed a smile to his face and took to the stage, clapping. The crowd quietened.
“Today we celebrate the coming together of six very special people,” he said. “They join together not only with each other but to us all,
becoming a part of our extended family. Each couple will get their own home, built specially by our very own Bob the Builder.”
A nod of acknowledgment to the heavyset man in the front.
“Comes with a sturdy bed,” Bob said in his deep, booming voice. “The first couple who break theirs gets a free extension on their home.”
The couples shared looks and a sly wink. The gauntlet had been tossed and the challenge accepted.
“They’ll be singing tonight, all right,” someone shouted.
Knowing looks from the adults. Confusion amongst the kids.
“Without further ado, dig in!” Donald said.
No one wasted any time.
36.
DURING THE ceremony, Jamie and Lucy had had their backs to the food. They turned around and tucked their legs under the tabletop. They helped lift the cloth off. It was more food than either Jamie or Lucy had ever seen.
Lucy looked uncertainly at the food. Most of it was new to her.
“Don’t worry,” Jamie said. “Just follow me. Eat what I eat. You want to eat as much meat as you can. Don’t touch the vegetables until someone comes to tell you to eat them. They’ll say they make you big and strong, but don’t buy it. Sandy Thompson ate them all day every day and she’s the scrawniest thing you’ve ever seen.”
Lucy dug in, burying as much of the food down her throat as she could. She could eat an awful lot for such a small person.
“By the way, what did your dad mean earlier about singing?” Lucy said. “How will that help the couples break their bed?”
“I don’t know,” Jamie said. “Want to go see later? Their rooms aren’t far from ours.”
“Sure,” Lucy said. “Maybe if we can sing a song, we can break things too.”
“Cool,” Jamie said.
A heavyset woman called Charlotte made the rounds, checking the kids’ plates.
“Now I know you’re not going to pig out on meat all night,” she said to Jamie. “Eat some vegetables, boy. What’s the matter with you? Don’t you want to be big and strong?”
Jamie shared an I-told-you-so look with Lucy, who laughed.
“Yes, Charlotte,” Jamie said, scooping a small spoonful of veggies onto his plate.
“You too, sweetie,” Charlotte said to Lucy. “You’ll never keep that skinny figure if you eat like this clown. By the way, Jamie. Can you take this plate up to Georgie when you’re done?”
“Sure,” Jamie said. “Where is he?”
“The west wall,” Charlotte said.
“Can I come?” Lucy said.
“Of course,” Jamie said.
Secretly, he was hoping she would offer to go with him.
“In that case, you can take his dessert,” Charlotte said to Lucy. “The old bugger will complain if he doesn’t get his sweets.”
37.
THE PROBLEM with being young—never mind small—was that people often didn’t notice you—especially when they were having a good time. They were supping on a concoction of fruits and vegetables that someone had managed to turn into some kind of beer.
Jamie had tried it secretly with Fatty one day, and both of them had ended up almost being sick. Neither of them could stomach it. How these people always seemed to get excited about it, cheeks glowing red, Jamie didn’t understand. He understood it even less when he learned it was actually some type of poison! Imagine wanting to poison yourself!
If you wanted to do that, then do the easy thing and head into the Deep Dark Woods with no shoes or socks on. You could find many types of deadly creature in there. It didn’t take much effort to get there either, unlike the distillation of the liquid they were sucking on. It took ages to get the taste just right, the brewer said. If that was getting it right, Jamie would hate to know what it was like getting it wrong.
Jamie weaved around the partiers. A human obstacle course. He focused on the food on his plate, moving it up and down to avoid it getting knocked clean out of his hands. Lucy performed the same dance, following in Jamie’s wake. Then Jamie spotted the biggest threat to them accomplishing their mission.
Charlotte was dancing.
There was nothing quite like watching her voluminous layers roll and shake. She moved one way, her fat in the other. Jamie liked to knock a table after a pyramid of jelly had been set. It wobbled to and fro, mesmerizing. That was how Charlotte looked when she danced. She was actually a good mover. Her body wasn’t. Jamie ducked as Charlotte threw out a hefty arm.
Jamie breathed a sigh of relief when he reached the stairs that led up to the next level. They stood higher than the rest of the commune. Jamie looked down on them like a God above his creation. He couldn’t help but smile. These were the people he’d known his entire life. All getting down and partying together. The majority of the food had been consumed, a complete mess. It would get tidied up eventually. The commune was well-run that way.
“This way,” Jamie said, turning to lead Lucy up the steps.
He was tempted to nick a couple of roast potatoes as he scaled the stairs but he daren’t. Georgie was known to have the keenest senses when it came to telling whether people had stolen from him or not. Still, Jamie felt his natural sense of naughtiness want to reach out and try his luck.
The music died down as they turned a corner, the buildings blocking the sound waves. The sconces on the walls were being lit for the approaching night, small orbs of light that had been intentionally placed to give just enough light for anyone passing down the commune’s corridors and hallways.
Jamie walked up the final set of steps, his breath already coming a little laboured. Georgie, tall grizzled and old, with a thick tuft of grey hair sprouting from a boil on his chin, turned to glare at those who dared approach. He glanced at the plates in their hands and smacked his lips. He focused on Jamie’s plate first.
“Looks to be a little light to me,” he said. “You been at my spuds, boy?”
“Spuds?” Jamie said. “No! I swear I didn’t touch them!”
“Are you sure?” Georgie said.
“Yes!” Jamie said. “ I swear!”
“Hm, all right then,” Georgie said, swiping the plate out of Jamie’s hands. He shoveled the food into his mouth with a spoon. “I know I can trust you. You’re a good boy.”
Damn. Maybe he could have gotten away with it after all. He’d remember for next time.
“Who’s this?” Georgie said, eying Lucy.
She looked a little cowed, kicking her feet.
“This is Lucy,” Jamie said.
“Lucy, ay?” Georgie said. “Nice to meet you, Lucy. You’re new here?”
“Yes, sir,” Lucy said.
“No need for the sir,” Georgie said. “The queen never sired me. Can’t think why not.”
A sliver of gravy ran down his chin. He must have felt it but he didn’t wipe it off.
“She’s very pretty, Jamie,” he said. “If you’re smart, you’ll hang onto her. But you probably won’t.”
Jamie didn’t know how to respond to that. Now it was his turn to be shy. He kicked his own feet.
“How was the imprisonment celebration going?” Georgie said.
“It was good,” Jamie said. “Wait. You mean the marriage?”
“That’s all marriage is,” Georgie said. “A prison. For the mind. Not for me. Not again.”
Again? That meant the old coot had been married once before. . . Jamie felt sorry for whoever she was.
“Charlotte cried,” Jamie said. “And Theresa.”
“Of course they did,” Georgie said. “They always cry. The fairer sex, they call them. Ha! A female invention if I ever heard one.”
“Shame you couldn’t make it,” Jamie said.
“Make it?” Georgie said. “Don’t you think it’s a bit suspicious how I’m always here when a wedding takes place?”
“I thought it was bad luck,” Jamie said.
“No,” Georgie said. “Good luck is what it is. I choose to be here whenever there’s a ball-and-chai
n fastening ceremony. See one and you’ve seen them all.”
“But the people getting married are always different,” Jamie said.
“Not always,” Georgie said. “Can you believe people used to get re-married in the old world? Renewing their vows, they called it. Poppycock. If I had to renew my vows, I would remove them altogether. Name one other thing that’s different about them.”
Jamie’s eyes moved to the side. Frowned.
“Sometimes the priest reads a different part from the book,” he said.
“He cycles through the same three passages,” Georgie said. “I suspect he can’t really read and they’re the only ones he can recall by heart.”
Georgie was lonely and wanted someone to talk at. Not with. At. He had never been the type to enjoy a conversation. It was fortunate because no one liked to be involved in one with him either.
“It doesn’t bother you to never go to a wedding?” Jamie said. “The others probably talk about you.”
“So?” Georgie said. “Nothing worse than people not talking about you. Means you might as well not exist if you’re not in anyone’s thoughts.”
“Even if they think you’re a grouch?” Lucy said.
Jamie flinched. A comment like that was going to attract a major tongue lashing. Instead, there was a twinkle in Georgie’s eye.
“Being a grouch has its perks,” Georgie said. “No one bothers me, for one.”
His ears pricked up, reminding Jamie of a dog when its owner was coming home. He picked up the binoculars and peered into the distance. At something Jamie couldn’t make out. A cloud of dust on the horizon, broad and wide.
“A dust storm?” Jamie said.
“Give me that plate of sweets,” Georgie said. “You’re going to have to run back to the party. Tell your father something’s afoot. The celebrations might have to come to an end sooner than expected. Small mercies.”
38.
After the Fall- The Complete series Box Set Page 9