56.
DONNY RACED across the compound in the direction of the northern wall, where he’d last seen his brother. He’d dismissed his motley crew of would-be assassins, back into the fray. They’d be opening fire on the Reavers the moment they stepped through the breach. Right where he should be. Instead, he was chasing after his baby brother and friends. He’d done too much of that during his life. If there was trouble to be had, Jamie had a knack of finding it.
Donny came to a stop. He changed direction. That was where his brother would be. He had a nose for being in the wrong place at precisely the wrong time.
He would be on the front lines.
57.
THE DEAFENING boom had been a starting pistol for Fatty. He’d taken refuge under the dining benches. He rested on his knees in the dirt. The explosion had been frightening. Next came the rattle and thud of the large chunks of rock that smashed the tabletop, the wood splintering and snapping beneath the blows. He could think of nothing to do but press his chubby hands together and pray.
He prayed for help, for forgiveness, for every wrong thing Jamie had made him do. For humanity’s sins. For everything he could think of. Just let him live through this and he’ll never do another bad thing ever again.
The rocks ceased their cacophonous rolling thunder. He still wouldn’t open his eyes. He flinched as a smattering of dust finished the apocalyptic Coda. Fatty reached for the dining table cloth, to push it aside and look to see if the coast was clear but his hand wouldn’t do it. He knew what would be on the other side of this flimsy piece of cloth. Reavers. And he didn’t have the heart to face them.
Some time passed before Fatty, hugging his knees with his arms, heard the sound he dreaded above all others. The roar of engines and the whooping and hollering of motorcycle wraiths. Fatty clenched his eyes shut tight and concentrated on his prayers. He doubted the Reavers believed much in religion. How could they with all the murdering and stealing they did?
And then the noise of war mawed like a pair of great battling beasts. The motorcycle engines were its roar, the clatter of gunfire and whistle of arrows were the demon’s unearthly weapons. A symphony of death. Every few seconds, a voice rang in a muted grunt of pain. Fatty tried not to picture a face beside each scream. They all sounded like people he knew.
“I told you, we need to go now.”
“But why? We have to stay and fight!”
“I don’t like it any more than you do. But it’s father’s orders.”
Wait, Fatty thought. These really were voices he recognized. He grinned and lifted the tablecloth, raising the curtain on a scene of murder and mayhem. Donny and Jamie had already passed and were hastily walking away on the other side. Fatty quickly dropped the cloth and lifted up the other side. There they were. His friends. He’d never been so thrilled to see them his whole life. And they were rushing away, Donny dragging Jamie by the arm.
“Hey!” Fatty said. “Guys! Wait up!”
He tripped on a rock and hit the deck. He was up in an instant.
“Oh, good,” Donny said, rolling his eyes. “I was worried we wouldn’t find tubby.”
Fatty was so relieved to see his friends that the insult failed to connect.
“What’s going on?” Fatty said.
“Didn’t have a good enough seat from under the table?” Donny sneered.
“I was praying,” Fatty said sheepishly.
“That’s all right then,” Donny said flatly. “Come on. We have to go.”
“Wait,” Jamie said. “You said we need to take all the kids, right? What about Kate and Umma?”
“They won’t be joining us,” Fatty said.
“Why not?” Jamie said. “Kate’s got more balls than the rest of us put together.”
“She’s dead,” Fatty said.
The smiles died immediately.
“I saw it happen,” Fatty said. “She took a bullet in the head. Ironic really, considering she was helping me hand out bullets at the time.”
“And Umma?” Donny said.
He held up his hands.
“You know what?” he said. “I don’t want to know. We’re still alive and we need to get out of here.”
“Just us?” Jamie said, peering at the four of them.
“There’s no one else,” Donny said. “And there will be even fewer of us if we don’t get a move on.”
58.
THE TUNNEL they’d constructed wasn’t large. It didn’t need to be. It only needed to get them out of the commune a safe distance away. This turned out to be a short foothill one hundred yards from the south-facing wall.
On the opposite end, where they would emerge, was a natural cleave in the land where some ancient natural split had happened. They’d needed only to dig half the distance to meet it in the middle.
There was little light inside, which was why Donny led the party with a torch. He couldn’t raise it high above his head and had to crouch low to pass through. It wasn’t such an issue for Jamie and the others. Lucy could walk her full height, unimpeded.
The torch had a nasty habit of dripping over his hand. Donny had learned through painful experience to keep his wrist slightly twisted to avoid it. The battle’s backing track had faded to silence, only the loudest heavy thuds of explosions, like a giant’s footsteps, followed them down the tunnel. Donny felt deep shame at those sounds chasing him from battle. Their friends were paying the price for their escape.
The others were strangely quiet as they wound down the tunnel, the same thoughts undoubtedly haunting them too. This was not how things were supposed to have gone. A community as well-stocked and well-prepared as theirs shouldn’t have fallen.
In the past, they’d successfully defended themselves against multiple Reaver clans. Some even larger than this one. And yet, they had still fallen. The answer, now Donny had time to think about it, was obvious. These Reavers were well-trained, with tactics they hadn’t seen before.
Intelligent Reavers? Whatever next?
They reached the end, what appeared to be a blank wall.
“Hold this,” Donny said, handing the torch to his brother.
Jamie hissed as it dribbled over his hand. Donny didn’t fight the smile that rose to his cheeks. He pressed his hands to the wall and ran his palms over it, searching. He knew what he was looking for, and where, but it wasn’t easy locating it. It wasn’t like he came down this passageway often.
Donny’s fingertips identified a curved indentation. He slipped his fingers into it and pulled, forcing the block up and across. Once he got it moving, it was easy enough to roll aside. It was a special hollow rock they’d shaped for this very purpose. But it was noisy, noisier than he’d remembered it. It might have gotten someone’s attention if they were close enough.
He paused and waited. Listening to any encroaching attack. It was silent, the way it often was in the desert. Nothing survived long out there if it drew attention to itself.
“Come on,” Donny said in a low hush.
They filed outside. Jamie helped his brother roll the rock back into place. Then Donny dusted the ground with stones and dirt, covering any evidence of unnatural movement.
“What now?” Fatty said.
“Now we go to the Crow’s Nest,” Donny said. “With the fall of the commune, it’s the only safe place left.”
Rat-a-tat-tat. Rat-a-tat-tat.
An electric sewing needle somewhere in the middle distance. Donny and Jamie led the others as they walked around the foothill to peer at the sound’s origin. Mountain’s Peak. Glowing orange and red and yellow, underscored with the syncopated rhythm of gunfire. It might have been an acid rave. The only one partying there was death.
59.
THE REAVERS were overwhelming the community’s defenses, firing wildly at the wall’s defenders. Every yard they took was paid for with blood and death but they would not let up. Not when they were so close to victory.
Entering via the gash in the wall they’d created, the Reavers had
little to hide behind and left themselves exposed. The quicker members dashed behind large boulders fashioned by the bomb’s explosion. Surrounded on two sides, the Reavers popped up and took wild spraying shots at the community defenders.
“More Reavers coming through the gap now,” Stephen said, joining Donald.
He fired a pistol at the whack-a-mole style setup they had going. A spray of blood as the side of a Reaver’s head was taken out. That’ll hurt in the morning.
“How are the other walls?” Donald said.
“No sign of them attacking the rear,” Stephen said. “I left men to man each wall but it looks like they’re concentrating their attention on the main entry point.”
Donald surveyed the scene. Commune members were falling, dropping like flies.
“This can’t continue,” Donald said.
“They’re losing as many men as we are,” Stephen said.
“That’s what can’t continue,” Donald said. “They won’t stop. The Reavers don’t know how to.”
“You know what’ll happen if they take the commune,” Stephen said.
“And I know what’ll happen if we don’t lay down arms,” Donald said.
Looking down into the giant V, he could see what was going to happen. Dozens more Reavers were entering, firing loaded rifles. Once they cleared the bottleneck they would overpower them. Then it would be a slaughter. They had done their best but there really was nothing more they could do. Fighting further now would only be spiting the community members who might otherwise survive.
“Tell the men to stand down,” Donald said.
Stephen nodded, turning to issue orders to the nearest man to go blow the horn.
Donald prayed he wasn’t making a huge mistake.
60.
THE DESERT was quite beautiful in the moonlight, cast in monochrome colours of white, silver, and black. In the distance, their destination, great spires of grey. The one they were heading for was the shortest and closest. That was where they had adapted a ranger’s hut into a fallback compound.
After the sun had ducked its head, it took all overbearing heat with it. It was a far more pleasant journey to make at night. A lizard scuttled across the surface and ran into a hole. An indentation in the soil signaled a creature—probably a small snake—trailing them. Deeming them too large to attack, it turned and headed away. The desert came to life at night.
Fatty, as always, had the foresight to grab some supplies. Or maybe he always had supplies on him. He shared out what snacks he had. Leftovers from the earlier feast and a bottle of water.
“Are you all right?” Lucy said.
Her voice was small and fragile. Not the voice of the girl who had hefted the carts of ammunition they’d been dragging around all afternoon. Jamie was exhausted. Lucy didn’t look like she was suffering any ill effects at all.
“I’m fine,” Jamie said. “Sorry your stay at Mountain’s Peak couldn’t last longer. We haven’t had a Reaver attack in ages. Unlucky that they attacked right then.”
“It’s okay,” Lucy said. “I enjoyed my time there. And I’m sure we’ll get to go back again soon.”
They walked in silence for a moment, their feet making soft scuffling noises.
“Can I ask you something?” Jamie said.
“Sure,” Lucy said.
“How did you end up in the middle of the desert?” Jamie said. “You’re lucky you didn’t die of dehydration.”
“I found some plants with water inside them,” Lucy said. “I remember reading a book once about how, if you drill into one, you can find water.”
“Stephen said the same thing,” Jamie said. “But it has to be the right plant, he said. The roots go down really deep. That’s where the plants get their water.”
“Not all of them,” Lucy said. “When it does rain, some of the plants trap it, keeping it locked away.”
“That’s cool,” Jamie said. “I wish we could do that.”
“We do, in a way,” Lucy said. “We can’t do it with our bodies but we can store it in containers after a hard rain.”
“Do you remember anything else about before?” Jamie said. “Is it coming back to you? About where you were before?”
“A little,” Lucy said. “Just fragments. Images, sounds. Small things. I remember bright white rooms and men and women in long coats. There was one man, with round glasses who I remember the most. I remember getting lost in long corridors. I think they were the natural walls of the mountains. Or made to look that way. The surface was rough. I cut my hand and fell over. Then the light was bright and I was in the desert. I don’t know how long for.
“The sun was hot—hotter than I’ve felt before. I tried to hide during the daytime and only come out at night but the nights aren’t very long. A lot of the animals come out then too. It’s all right when there are a lot of us, like now. But when you’re by yourself, it’s scary. I saw lots of dangerous animals. The worst were the things you call Rages. I’d never seen one before—at least, I don’t remember seeing them before—but I knew straight away there was something wrong with them. Something somehow inhuman and unnatural.
“When they saw me, I ran. It was the only thing I could do. I had nothing to fight them with. I kept moving. I was faster than them but they never stopped. They were burnt to a crisp and could hardly walk. Some animals had gotten to them, pecking and tearing chunks out of them whenever they could.
“I came to an outcrop of rock and managed to get to the top. At least there I could rest. But they wouldn’t leave. So, I pushed a rock over the side and crushed one of them. They’re very stupid and were distracted with the one I killed. I used the opportunity to escape. I thought I was free until they started chasing me again. I knew I couldn’t keep going. The sun was so hot and I couldn’t catch any food or drink much water with them after me. If you hadn’t found me when you did, I would have died there in that tree.”
“I’m glad we found you when we did,” Jamie said.
“Me too,” Lucy said.
They shared a moment together, a gentle, warm smile, with the kind of innocence only children were capable of. Then Jamie noticed something. Fatty. He’d slowed to a stop, turning to look back at the commune. He appeared to be thinking intently. He was probably thinking about his family, still there, still fighting.
“Are you okay, Fatty?” Jamie said.
“Listen,” Fatty said.
Jamie did.
“What?” he said. “I don’t hear anything.”
“Exactly,” Fatty said. “The shooting. It’s stopped.”
He was right. Even from this distance, they ought to have been able to make out the distant pop of weapons. But there was nothing.
“It’s over,” Jamie said, a smile coming to his face. “It means we can go back.”
More than ever before, Donny wanted to turn back and see what was happening in the commune. They needed him. And here he was, turning tail.
“Yes,” he said. “The commune needs us. There will be a lot of cleanup work to do—”
“Wait,” Lucy said. “Maybe we didn’t win. Just because it stopped doesn’t mean anything. The Reavers might have won.”
“I’m with Lucy on this one,” Fatty said. “Best to play it safe.”
“You want us to stay out here?” Jamie said. “If we won, we should go back. If we lost, we should help. Either way, we have to return home.”
Donny was silent, thinking the situation through. His mind was a warring faction between two equally powerful adversaries. Being logical versus his powerful emotional reaction to the events as they unfolded. He channeled his father. What would he do? It struck him like a lightning bolt.
“We continue on to Crow’s Nest,” Donny said.
“What?” Jamie said, genuinely shocked by his elder brother’s decision. “Why?”
“Because it’s what father wanted,” Donny said. “And the commune can take care of itself. We won’t help, only hinder. They know where to find us. They’ll come
get us when it’s safe.”
“What if it isn’t safe?” Jamie said.
“Then it’s a good thing we stay away,” Donny said.
He turned and continued walking. Fatty was hot on his heels. Jamie watched his brother’s fleeting back, then turned and looked in the direction of the commune, now a pinprick of light in the distance. He turned and followed the others, Lucy in his stead. He felt sick to his stomach.
61.
DONALD AND the other council members—what remained of them—were on their knees in the middle of the clearing. A large Reaver stood over each one, a pistol pressed firmly to their temples. The community, beaten and bloodied, stood in a circle around the scene. The Reaver clan parted, revealing two opposing characters.
The Mantis was immediately identifiable as the leader. He was not particularly tall, but thick and heavyset, like a tree trunk. The other man was likely his advisor. He was small and weak. He was probably not good at anything else. The Mantis strutted in front of the captured council members and grinned, raising his arms above his head. The Reavers cheered.
“We came to reave, and we reaved!” the Mantis said. “They threw everything they had at us but they could not hold us back!”
Another mighty roar.
And then the Mantis’s expression changed, becoming sad and sombre.
“But this did not need to happen,” he said. “If you’d just opened your gates and let us in, no one would have died today.”
Maybe not today, Donald thought. But there was always tomorrow.
“Each and every life is precious,” the Mantis said. “I travel the world and see how many of us there are left. So few. Too few. We should not be fighting amongst ourselves. We should be helping each other.”
This speech wasn’t for his men, Donald realized. It was for him. For the community. He was making an offer. But an offer of what? He already stood to take everything from them. What more did they have to give?
After the Fall- The Complete series Box Set Page 12