by Simon Clark
‘That …’ He rubbed his face. ‘That I can’t remember. Not yet. But it’s close to the surface now. I can feel it.’
40
Anatomy of a Monster
That’s the moment Elsa could have become the filling in a sandwich. On top of her the steel roof of the car pressed down. Beneath her, the unyielding stone slabs of the walkway radiated the cold of the castle into her bones. For a while the gunshots had been a brittle clatter, then they faded. As they did so the music that only she could hear ghosted through the night air. More than once she heard footsteps nearby; this was the light feet of humans, no doubt searching the walkway for God Scarers to destroy. But they missed Elsa lying concealed beneath the car roof hurled onto her by the explosion. The music called to her. Common sense told her to find her own kind; yet when she managed to push the metal sheet from her she knew what she must do. Searchlights mounted on vehicles illuminated the scene below. The mob had gathered outside the doorway that led into the storeroom at the base of a tower. That’s probably where Dominion, Beech, Paul and the rest were making their last defiant stand. She estimated there were 200 saps laying siege to that little doorway. From what she could tell they appeared to be arguing amongst themselves what to do next.
At one point a man suggested something but he was shouted down with, ‘Wait for the soldiers. The army’s on its way!’
The mob were too involved with their own debate to worry about what happened up on the walkway above their heads. As stealthily as she could she picked her way across the debris to one of towers. The door lay open. With luck there’d be no one inside this part of the building.
This is suicide, she told herself. They’ll see me the moment I step out into the courtyard.
What option did she have? To crawl back under the metal sheet? They’d find her soon enough if she hid there. Rejoining her own kind wasn’t an alternative at the moment. As far as she knew the only way into the storeroom was through the door that the mob had besieged. Besides, the call of that ancient song of the dead was stronger than ever. She must answer it. Elsa descended the spiral staircase in the tower, then slipped out through the door. There she saw the headless corpse of a transient. A splash of body fluids violated the stone wall. God Scarer blood is the reddest of all.
While she ran lightly across the courtyard to the wrecked portcullis, a couple of saps took experimental kicks at the storeroom door. Women shouted encouragement. Another voice, however, sang out that they should wait for the army to finish the task for them.
The stink of burnt plastic still hung on the air as Elsa passed through the hole in the gate. Here the light from searchlights was so intense she had to shield her eyes. Behind her, the mob still failed to notice the lone God Scarer escape the castle. Beyond the lights there was only darkness. The music grew louder; it became a homing signal. Whatever generated those unearthly notes was guiding her to its source.
‘Have they got the bastards out yet?’
She shielded her eyes to see who’d spoken. The guy had to squint against the glare, too. It took a moment, but then he recognized what stood in front of him.
‘Hey! One’s got out!’ He yanked a revolver from a holster.
From the vehicles half-a-dozen men ran toward her. They unholstered sidearms, too, and slammed a volley of shots at her. She couldn’t run back into the castle. All she could do was race along the wall of the castle in the direction of the seaward cliff. Once she turned the corner of the building she found herself in darkness again. A cool breeze that tasted of brine tugged at her hair. Behind her came the calls of her pursuers. An eager sound. They knew the pursuit would be a short one. No doubt other members of the posse would circle round the other side of the castle to cut off her escape. Already she began to slow her pace. To her right the stone wall of the Pharos rose into the air. At the other side of her, just ten paces away, the land ended at the cliff edge. There it fell away in a sheer drop to the ocean far below. At the bottom of the rock face surf flooded across boulders in a mass of boiling white.
Bobbing lights rounded the corner. Some of her pursuers held flashlights; one let fly with a sub-machine-gun. The rounds snagged the back of her knee; another clipped her hand. From the far end of the castle a pickup rounded the corner. This is it.
The music swelled with unearthly splendour. Of course … this is meant to be. The words had barely slid through her when she walked forward, then without a moment’s hesitation she stepped off the edge of the cliff.
In the storeroom the surviving God Scarers sat without speaking. Every so often a boot would crash against the door. Following that would either be taunts, or promises of what torture the saps would inflict, or sometimes a more cajoling voice.
‘You can’t stay in there forever. Give yourselves up before the soldiers arrive. Make it easy for yourselves. I guarantee it’ll be painless.’ Then there’d be silence for a moment before a drink-sodden voice punctuated by belches came through the door: ‘You’ve seen them for yourselves. Helicopters have landed nearby. They’ll be full of our soldiers. Won’t be long now. We’re going to build a fire …’ Then silence.
At last, Dominion slid off the table to stand on his two feet. ‘Paul.’ He beckoned him, then placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘I told you I was going to show you Caitlin’s womb. Do you know why?’
‘One of your oh-so distinctive threats, Dominion.’ Paul heard the bitterness in his voice. ‘Why return to that now?’
‘Because I wasn’t thinking clearly then.’ Dominion brought his face closer. ‘Don’t ask me how I can tell … a sixth sense. I don’t know, there’s so much happening in here now.’ He tapped his head with a fingertip. ‘But I can tell you this about Caitlin. She has your child inside of her.’
That silence became a force in its own right – an intolerable one that pulsed inside Paul’s head. ‘That’s not possible,’ he hissed. ‘We’re transients. Transients are sterile.’
Dominion shook his head. ‘Not anymore.’ Gently, he shook Paul by the shoulder. ‘We’re changing …’
Elsa didn’t remember hitting the ocean. The impact would have killed a mortal. Even so, the force of the fall drove her deep underwater. As Elsa sped downward into the black depths she marvelled she was alive. She was convinced that at the bottom of the cliff there would be shallows where her body would be shattered on rocks. Instead she sank down and down and down into liquid darkness. Darkness everlasting … Her mind became dreamy. The rise and fall of that unearthly music mesmerized her. And at last she realized she was in the midst of the music. It didn’t come from any other direction but here. It surrounded her. A phantom chorus of voices.
For the moment she experienced no compelling need to breathe. Instead her eyes searched the darkness for the source of the music. And when she found it she wasn’t surprised. Perhaps subconsciously she’d known all along. Beneath her, a figure drifted up from the depths. At first it looked like a pale X shape in the gloom, but it resolved itself into the body of a man with outstretched arms and legs. The man turned in the body of the ocean. His eyes were open as he gazed up at her.
Her long dead husband drifted there a hundred feet under the surface of the water. I’m not dreaming, she told herself. This is real. Richard has come back to take me with him. He isn’t making that music he’s become the doorway through which it pours. That’s the song of the ancient dead. They’re calling me to join Richard. We’re reunited.
Richard loomed upward toward her. As he opened his mouth his lips framed a word that he didn’t speak. It came as boom that thundered through her. ‘LIVE.’ Then he sank back down into the depths.
The booming came again. Elsa coughed the water from her throat. It felt hard as stone there. Another boom, then the surf grabbed her and sent her turning over and over. Another boom – one that seemed to shake dust from the universe itself. A wave carried her up the beach. To the accompanying boom of surf on rocks she pushed herself to her feet and walked clear of the water. When she remembered t
he vision of Richard she also recalled his command: LIVE.
LIVE? What is there to live for? She saw the gloomy block of the castle standing on its headland. Her friends were in there. Either dead, or soon to be dead. So why carry on?
Surf boomed across the rocks again. That was the only sound she heard. She turned her face to the cold breeze rushing in from the ocean. With all her willpower she listened for that unearthly music … the song of the ancient dead that haunted her since her rebirth in the transit station all those years ago. When she eventually began to walk up the beach toward dry land she realized she could hear their song no more.
West ran down the stairs that led into the tower. He called out to the survivors huddled in the storeroom, ‘They’ve broken in through the windows!’
Dominion looked at Paul. ‘It’s up to me and you now.’
Elsa climbed the path that wound its way up the cliffs. At the top, on level ground she saw three black helicopters. Moving away from them, under cover of darkness, was a squad of soldiers. Even from this distance she could see they were heavily armed. Machine-guns, hand-held missile launchers – these were people committed to executing their mission to the full.
Even at that moment, when death stalked the countryside, the meaning of the vision she’d experienced in the sea revealed itself. LIVE. BE ALIVE. Maybe it was a kind of dream she’d experienced all these years when she heard that music. But if the ancient dead could sing, what would be their message in the lyric? They wouldn’t sing in praise of death. They’d sing about the glories of life. And the more she thought about it, that yearning in the melody resonated again. So if the dead could sing what do they sing about? Yes, it is about the splendour of life, and being alive. Of relishing that fleeting, shooting-star existence in a universe of lifeless matter.
Elsa had been fortunate enough to return from death once. She should make the most of her second chance. Now she wanted life so much her nerves tingled. She had to escape.
Moving quickly, with her head as low as possible so she wouldn’t be seen by the soldiers, she ran downhill. If she could find the river in the valley she could follow it upstream away from Scaur Ness.
When she rounded an outcrop of boulders a light blazed in her face. Three men loomed out of the shadows to grab hold of her.
‘So, you were running from the soldiers?’ The man’s breath stank of beer. ‘I reckon they’ll be impressed by our trophy, don’t you?’
Two then grabbed her arms. One was a cop. The other man was far younger. She recognized him as the man who’d held her and kissed her just hours ago. Even though he didn’t let his tough-guy expression slip his eyes pleaded with her not to reveal their secret. She held his gaze for a second then looked away in the direction of the distant hill, where the stone circle had stood for three millennia.
The man with the beer breath grunted, ‘Hold her still.’
Karl didn’t grip her arm as tightly as the cop. At the last moment she thought she heard him whisper, ‘Sorry.’
That was just seconds before the man with the stale breath showed her the pistol-shape of the humane-killer used to slaughter cattle. He grinned as he pushed the muzzle against her forehead, a mechanism clicked as a lever moved. Even as the detonation filled her ears and she fell dying at humanity’s feet she thought: I want to live.
Dominion raced upstairs to where the break-in had occurred. Two powerful thoughts jostled inside his head. One: to drive the invaders out. Two: That need to do something. The thought had been implanted in Dominion before his rebirth at the transit station. It was an act of supreme importance. Yet he couldn’t catch hold of it. The memory swam through his head as slippery as a fish. Just when he hoped he’d grasped it and could shout AH, YES, THIS IS WHAT I’M SUPPOSED TO DO, it would wriggle away again. But it was coming. Oh, yes, it was nearly here. Any minute now he’d remember that important task he must perform.
Everything depended on it.
41
The Last Day
The moment Paul entered the room in the upper-part of the tower he glanced out the window to see the pale grey of dawn spreading through the sky. In the room were eight of the town’s young bucks. They must have spent the night downing liquor and goading one another into doing something about ‘those damned monsters in the castle’. Now they were in through a broken window. When they saw Dominion wasn’t dead after all they screamed at one another in panic. One of them scrambled out of the window so fast he missed his footing. Instead of making it to the walkway he tumbled forty feet into the courtyard below. The mob parted as he fell, leaving plenty of space for the kid to make landfall.
Dominion pounced. That giant of a man with the scarred neck, wrists lined with deep crimson gullies, where the hands had been welded by surgical laser to the arms. His shaved head with its dark skin and golden stubble must have been the last thing the men saw. They were still too drunk to handle their weapons effectively. Shotgun blasts knocked holes in plasterwork. A revolver slug grazed Paul’s shoulder. There was movement, shouting, yells, gunshots – but mainly there was killing. Dominion simply reached out and crushed heads in his vast hands, as if he crushed soft, ripe peaches.
A sap of around twenty swung an axe at Dominion. Paul snatched it out of the man’s hands and drove the handle so violently into his breastbone it must have popped the guy’s heart. He dropped to the floor with an expression of utter surprise. The last sap standing pulled a knife. Dominion simply slapped it out of his hand, reached down, grabbed the knifeman by the ankle and upended him. He carried the squealing man to the window, in the same casual way a child would amble about a yard with a plastic doll held by the leg. A moment later he thrust the kid out of the window. Puke spurted from this captive’s mouth to spray onto the mob below.
Dominion called down, ‘Leave the castle.’
People screamed when they saw Dominion dangle the youth by the ankle high above them.
Dominion pressed on, ‘If you go back to your homes there’ll be no more fighting. We’ll leave here within the hour.’
Elements of the crowd shouted abuse. Voices rose; even though it wasn’t easy to make out complete sentences the meaning was transparent. Government soldiers were on their way. They’d landed in helicopters. They’d be here at any moment.
The baying of the pack grew louder. Dominion standing there in clear view as he dangled one of their own tormented them beyond belief. Some raised their guns and began shooting.
The hanging youth screamed at them, ‘No … no … no!’ One of the shotgun blasts meant for Dominion ripped open the youth’s face. A strange, gasping scream pulsed through his bloody lips. Dominion flung the injured man into the crowd.
Paul watched Dominion step back into the room. Bullets ricocheted up the wall outside.
‘So,’ Paul said, ‘we really are trapped. They’re going to keep us bottled here until the troops come.’
Dominion’s forehead furrowed into hard ridges as he concentrated on some problem. That eight-pound brain of his – more than twice the size of a human’s must be working fucking overtime. Bitter observations. But Paul’s thoughts seared him. What happened to Caitlin? She’d been driven away by her father, so she should be safe. But no one would tolerate her in this town. Once they’d done with the God Scarers the mob would find Caitlin, tar and feather her, then … He groaned at mental images of the thugs torturing her. If only he could escape from here then find her? A clatter of birdshot against the window frame was proof enough those people wouldn’t let him stroll out of here.
He watched Dominion. The giant’s eyes glistened as he hammered thought through that over-stuffed skull of his.
Paul asked, ‘Have you remembered what you were supposed to remember yet?’ Sarcasm tainted his voice. ‘You know, the important quest? The great and glorious task that you were entrusted with?’
Dominion pressed his lips together with the effort of trying to recall what was so vital.
‘I wish that big block of grey matter could
have helped us before now,’ Paul continued in a bitter tone. ‘If you know Caitlin is pregnant maybe you could have fandoozled some clever way of saving her. Because you know what those saps down there will do to her, don’t you? They’ll shave off her hair, pour molten tar over her head, then they’ll cover her in feathers. Then they’ll probably drag her round the town while her friends and neighbours kick her to death.’
‘I’m trying to remember,’ Dominion hissed. ‘I’m trying.’ He cuffed the side of his own head. ‘In here … in here … there’s something important … I have to do something. It’s vital. Once I remember everything will be all right.’
‘I wish I could believe you, old pal.’
‘I just need to remember. Then all this aggression between humanity and our own kind will be over.’
‘Perhaps you’re really the dove of peace.’ Paul’s laugh was a grim one. ‘Then when you remember … whoosh … happiness, prosperity and tranquillity for all.’
‘Paul … it’s important. Stop playing the fool.’
‘But that’s just it. I’m not joking. I’m sick to my stomach that I don’t know where Caitlin is. The idea of being trapped here waiting to die nauseates me. And I can’t believe that there’s something inside your big bastard of a brain that will set us all free, and stop the killing.’
‘I will remember.’ Dominion’s eyes narrowed as he struggled to catch that slippery thought. ‘I will remember. It’s almost within reach.’
A cheer rose outside.
‘Sorry, mate. You should have tried harder.’ Paul nodded toward the window. ‘Just look at who’s walking through the gate.’
In the early morning gloom soldiers entered the Pharos.
‘Big guns,’ Paul intoned. ‘Must be elite forces.’