Afterworld

by Lynnette Lounsbury

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ He kept walking.

  ‘Wait.’ She caught up to him and put her hand on his arm for a second. It burned more than the Nephilim’s had. ‘I was worried because I like you.’ She swallowed and they were silent for a moment. ‘I mean, I want you to make it. I think you’ve got what it takes, you know?’ Her face was soft for only a second before it hardened again. Back to her business-face. Dom wondered what had happened to her to make her so harsh.

  ‘I can’t really “like you”, you know. You’re going to leave and I’m, well, I might be here forever. Even if I went with you through the Maze, I might find myself here again and you could be anywhere. There aren’t any happy endings you know.’

  Dom was sure what she had said was meant to discourage him but all he could think about was the phrase ‘if I went with you through the Maze’. He hadn’t known that was a possibility. Suddenly life – he smirked, well death anyway – seemed a whole lot brighter. He changed the subject. ‘You could have told me I’d only earn three minutes. It will take me a century to get out of here.’

  A voice from around the corner boomed back.

  ‘Could anyone use a strong drink?’ It was Eduardo, a smile resonating through his voice.

  Eva actually smiled. Her white teeth gleamed in the last faint touch of light. ‘We could and you probably shouldn’t,’ she called back. They walked the rest of the way along the alley together and despite the strong desire to reach out and hold Eva’s hand as it brushed past his, Dom resisted. He considered the odds and decided the likelihood of Eva pulling away was incredibly high.

  Kaide would have laughed at him. ‘You always fall for the most difficult girls, Dom. Never the easy ones!’

  He sighed. He still had no idea what had happened to his sister, only that she had not come home. He wondered if Satarial had actually been in his sister’s room or if it was just in his mind. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter, but he knew he was going to have to seek out the Nephilim and find out what he knew about his sister. And he would have to do it without telling either his Guide or his Guardian. He considered that thought for a moment then decided he might ask Eduardo. The man was a little broken, but he clearly had strength and honour. He would feel much better seeing Satarial with Eduardo beside him.

  ‘I’m starving,’ Dom said suddenly. ‘I need tofu!’ Eva laughed a little and steered them to the old tavern, the same dive they had found Eduardo in the night before.

  7

  Dominic’s Hourglass

  10 Minutes

  After two more days Dom felt as though he had lived an eternity in the orchard. Two days of picking fruit, two days of trudging wearily back to the apartment to spend most of his earnings on food and to the uncomfortable foldout stretcher bed. Each day he’d spent hours thinking about the same things: Satarial’s face in his sister’s room, and Eva. He was surprised at how often his thoughts returned to Eva. Surely he should be preoccupied with getting out of this place, or at the very least finding out if his sister was here. He had not seen the Nephilim in the City again and had no idea how to contact him. Every time he brought it up, Eva said it was too dangerous and Eduardo pretended he hadn’t heard the request.

  As he walked around Necropolis, he still felt the curiosity and discomfort of most people he passed. Occasionally someone would touch him or grab his arm and he would shake them off as politely as possible and walk away before a crowd gathered. Some of the people seemed a little like zombies – so far from life they just stumbled one foot after the other. The only people who didn’t seem interested in him at all were the Glassers – the scrawny addicts who only managed a half-day of haphazard work before they slunk away to the lake.

  Dom reflected on the similarities between life and death. People worked, they ate, they slept. Some were in love and some cursed each other across the market stalls. It was a subdued version of life, oddly inert and certainly far simpler – but it wasn’t entirely different. He imagined it would have been equally hard to adjust if he had suddenly woken up in Norway or Somalia.

  And he was slowly getting to know his Guide and Guardian better. The previous night Eva had taken them to a little house that served food through its open kitchen window to patrons who ate outside in the streets and courtyards. They served spicy, hot curries and stews that tasted like nothing Dominic had ever tried before, food that created a strange sensation in his mouth and made him feel light-headed. He drank juice from fruit that had become extinct on Earth hundreds of years before he was born, and the water, the water tasted so good he even drank it out of the washing spigot in the mornings.

  Eva spent an hour each morning explaining what he needed to know about the Maze, teaching him strategies for passing through the next stage of death. Then she would disappear.

  ‘What do you do all day? Are you in some other part of the Workhouse?’ he quizzed her.

  ‘This is my work – being a Guide. The rest of the time I just . . .’ she narrowed her eyes, ‘I make sure I know what’s going on around the City.’

  ‘Well, how about I do terrible tasks for you and you take my easy little job pulling wagons of fruit in the orchard? Sound good?’ He had the satisfaction of seeing her smile.

  After his first lesson with Eva, he had his first training session with Eduardo.

  ‘It is time for me to start training you,’ Eduardo said, yawning.

  ‘Train me? Like how?’ Dom shrugged at his hungover Guardian. ‘I’m pretty fit.’

  ‘To fight, boy. So you can protect yourself against anything you might meet in the Maze.’ He sat up and held Dom’s gaze across the table. Dom was struck by the fact that Eduardo could seem so tired, drunk and useless and yet have such piercing eyes. ‘What do you already know?’

  ‘About fighting? Nothing. I took a couple of karate classes when I was a kid. Watched some boxing. A few Chinese martial arts films.’

  ‘Didn’t you fight other boys?’ Eduardo was unamused.

  ‘Not really. We’d get suspended for that.’

  ‘Suspended? Hung? Why?’ Eduardo looked to Eva for some clarity, but found her equally amused.

  ‘Ha!’ Dom laughed. ‘No – I mean it’s not allowed.’

  ‘So what did you do?’ Eduardo seemed completely nonplussed.

  ‘Do? I was at school.’

  ‘At fifteen? I was in the army by then. Most men my age were married. Plenty had children to feed. And most had businesses. A man from my town designed and built one of the fastest ships of our time when he was fifteen.’

  ‘Well now we study history and chemistry and play basketball,’ Dom said.

  Eduardo sighed and reached out an empathetic hand to rest on his arm. ‘You must have been very bored.’

  ‘Hell yeah, every second.’

  Eduardo smiled darkly. ‘Well you won’t be bored with me.’ The conquistador pulled a curved, short sword from a hidden fold in his cloak and handed it to Dom. ‘A fifteen-year-old opponent who cannot be killed – I am looking forward to this!’

  And so his fighting lessons had begun. Apparently weapons technology had bypassed the Afterworld. While the strange city had trees that grew multiple types of fruit, walls made of seamless stone that glowed in the darkness and doors that evaporated to allow entry – there were no guns. Only knives and swords. He felt ridiculous, but after only two lessons he was beginning to get the hang of using a sword. Whether he would actually be any good in a fight was another thing; he imagined himself ending up limbless like the knight in the old Monty Python film, lying on the ground, waiting wearily for someone to put his arms and legs back into place.

  After a week, Eva was clearly more comfortable with him. She almost allowed herself to be nice. Almost. She still frowned if he questioned anything she told him, or if he didn’t concentrate. The Maze was complicated and the more Eva explained it to him, the more it seemed he needed to know to get through it.

  ‘You can take anything you can carry when you choose to start the
Maze,’ she began.

  Dom cut her off. ‘I can choose to start the Maze? So I could go any time? Even now with only ten minutes? Why the ten-thousand-minutes thing?’

  ‘If you keep interrupting, I’ll never get through this,’ she muttered before answering with a sigh. ‘Yes, you can go with one minute if you want. When your time runs out you end up back at the gate. Then you have to earn minutes to enter the Maze again. It takes even the most incredibly prepared people about five days. Ten thousand is the most that you can take.’ She raised an eyebrow at him.

  ‘I should be right with two or three then, eh?’ he joked.

  She shook her head and pointed back at her notebook. She had a detailed map of a labyrinth. ‘This is important, Dom. Concentrate. You don’t want to be stuck here forever. Now this is not completely accurate because the Maze is different for everyone, but I can show you the main points along the way.’ She pointed at a series of drawings. ‘This is the first place you will come to. It usually takes you a day or so to find it. It is guarded by Anubis who is the keeper of the Maze. Have you heard of the jackal-headed god of the Egyptians? God of mummification and death. It’s him. They used to worship him. He can help you if he chooses to, but he rarely does. You probably won’t even see him. The walls are decorated with ancient texts and if you can’t understand them, they seem identical. If you can decipher the clues, you can pass through quickly and safely.’

  ‘Couldn’t I just leave a trail of crumbs?’ he said.

  Eva frowned, but he was sure he had seen amusement in her eyes. ‘Don’t joke about this, Dom. I’ve been through the Maze and it is tough. And then there’s the River. So we need to go over this and over it again. Every day. We can study again when you get back from the Workhouse.’

  *

  A day of work did not make Dom more eager to study. His growing need to find out the truth about his sister eclipsed his interest in learning about the Maze. It was time to take action, even if it meant searching for Satarial by himself. He helped pull the last fruit wagon of the day up to the warehouse and collected his few minutes. He had worked hard, he thought irritably, just as he would for the next decade. It was still light when he walked out of the warehouse and Eva was waiting for him. Eduardo was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘Hey,’ she said, and for a brief second she seemed happy to see him. All his frustrating thoughts vanished. He cleared his throat. It was actually easier to be with her when she was annoyed at him. Then he didn’t get flustered or embarrassed and he found it amusing to antagonise her. When she was nice to him, it was a whole different ball game.

  She held out a paper bag. Inside was a piece of cake. It smelled amazing. He had been eating fruit and vegetables and tofu for days and the sweet scent of sugar made his mouth water. They walked through the square together and he ripped the cake in half to share it with her. She looked surprised.

  ‘Thanks.’ She bit into it with unexpected enthusiasm and powdery sugar puffed onto her cheeks.

  ‘Hungry?’

  She smiled and rubbed her face. ‘Yes. I didn’t realise I was, so I just got one for you. But the smell was so enticing . . . It tastes like home.’

  He offered her the other half and when she shook her head, he bit into the soft, buttery sponge and understood immediately what she meant. ‘Oh.’ He tried to hide his melancholy. ‘It does taste like America.’

  She smiled sadly. ‘I was going to say Earth. We lived in England for a while and my dad used to take me to Paris every now and then. We would get amazing pastries there, covered with berries and cream and chocolate. It reminds me of that.’

  He sighed. ‘Well, maybe he thinks of you when he has one. I’m sure my mum thinks of me every time she uses my PlayStation.’

  They both grinned. The square narrowed into another of the City’s many alleyways and they were forced to walk closer together. Eva’s hand brushed his softly and Dom felt a shockwave up his arm. How could he be dead when he still felt so alive? So raw? She casually pulled her hand up to her hair and kept it out of the way and he wondered if she was making a point – that she didn’t want him to touch her.

  ‘This is my favourite park.’ She gestured to the end of the alley, which widened into beautifully green parkland surrounded by a lush forest that looked as though it went on forever, even though it was in the middle of the City. There were hundreds of different types of plants, flowers and trees, everything from roses to sunflowers, an oak tree next to a coconut tree. Nothing belonged together and yet everything worked harmoniously. Eva sank down on the soft green grass. ‘It’s weird with no birds or bugs or squirrels or anything, but so peaceful.’

  ‘And so clean. There’s no trash or leaves on the ground. No pigeons,’ he observed.

  ‘Nothing dies here, so the leaves don’t fall off. They just keep growing and growing. Maybe the park will take over the whole City one day.’ She sounded hopeful.

  ‘So where are we? The middle of the City? I can’t get my head around the layout.’ He glanced around, but all he could see was the greenery of the park.

  ‘This is the very middle. There is the workers’ quarter where everyone lives – all the apartments and places to eat. And then at the back of the City is the Workhouse with the orchards and the factories. Beyond the Workhouse is a road that leads to the other gate – the exit gate to the Maze – it’s directly in line with the front gate where we came in. And the wall goes around everything, though you can’t always see it – space is as strange as time here. Things can seem small one day and huge another.’

  ‘But isn’t that only half of the City? What’s over the other side of the park?’

  He gestured with his head.

  Eva’s nose wrinkled. ‘There is a river on the far edge and one bridge across to the other side. The other half of the City is where the Nephilim live.’

  ‘Half of the City? Are there that many of them?’

  ‘No – maybe a hundred or so, but they run this place like the mob, shady businesses, mostly gambling and fighting. They have collected a lot of minutes. And they prefer to live by themselves. Everyone else prefers it too. They can be dangerous.’

  ‘So you’ve said.’ Dom wanted to ask about Satarial again, but he sensed Eva was not going to help him search out the Nephilim.

  ‘Can you imagine what a disappointment Necropolis must be to some people?’ he asked instead.

  ‘What do you mean? Like to devoted Christians or Buddhists or religious people?’

  ‘Maybe – I mean some people think they are going to live forever in paradise, you know?’

  ‘I thought it would be like a dinner party.’ The soft aristocratic voice came from nearby. They turned to see a man, probably in his mid-sixties, in an expensive suit with tails, top hat and cane. He sat solemnly on a small, carved bench. ‘Drinking wine and talking about old times for all eternity. It was supposed to be a reward for a life well-lived. A time to relax and reminisce.’ He regarded them with lost and lonely eyes. ‘I can’t find any of them. My family, my friends. I know nobody and there is nothing here to love. Nothing . . .’ He trailed off and stared out across the park. He didn’t seem to expect them to speak.

  They watched him for a moment, and then Eva said softly, ‘Can you imagine what it must be like for people who chose to die? Who thought it would be better here?’

  ‘You mean suicide?’ Dom hadn’t thought of that. ‘Do they come here too?’

  ‘I don’t know. Not everyone comes here, I do know that, but I have no idea what the rules and criteria are. Only the Awe knows that. There’s supposed to be a plan,’ she sounded doubtful, ‘but imagine if you were depressed about life and wanted to end it all and then ended up here?’

  Dom considered the tall buildings behind him; the medieval darkness of everything, despite the green parkland and even though it was a brightly lit day. There was beauty in it, but it was a sullen and aloof beauty with a dangerous edge, as though evil was lurking at its edges. And it was inert, unmoving, always
waiting.

  ‘I think I wasted my life,’ he said softly, the thought filling him with sadness.

  ‘I know I did. I wanted to make the world a better place, but it was so broken. Nothing I did made a difference. I was always so . . . so depressed and I thought it was all so hopeless. I wasn’t very happy.’

  Dom smiled in spite of himself. ‘As opposed to now,’ he grinned at her, ‘when you are a barrel of laughs.’

  For a moment her face tightened, but then she laughed, gently and ruefully, and the sound made him think that death might be worth it after all.

  ‘I know, I’m kind of a . . .’ She paused.

  He smiled again. ‘Kind of a . . . grump?’

  ‘Grump? Oh God, you sound like my mum!’

  ‘Your mum? Thanks. That’s what every guy wants to hear.’ He shot her a look of mock disgust.

  She stared at him silently for a moment, and he realised he may have crossed a line referring to any sort of relationship scenario. He changed tack as quickly as he could.

  ‘Maybe you’ve just been here too long.’

  ‘No. It’s not that. I don’t know what it is. Were you one of those happy people when you were alive? Glass half-full? Filled with confidence and joy?’ She looked at him quizzically and then grinned. ‘I’m guessing, no.’

  ‘Not exactly. I wasn’t wearing black eye make-up or anything, but no, I wasn’t one of the happy people. My sister was. She was just always . . . up. You know? Nothing ever got her down. I wish I could have been that person. But everything always seemed . . . tragic to me. My parents lived in India and so many people were poor and hungry and sick and there were kids with no families. I don’t know,’ he sighed, ‘I guess we just saw different things.’

  ‘My dad was like that. Happy. All the time.’ Eva’s face softened at the memory. She was truly beautiful, Dom thought. ‘At least he was, before I died. I don’t think he still eats cake.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I don’t think he still eats cake. He only went to Paris for me. He’s a computer programmer, you know? You said you like PlayStation – he wrote the highest-selling game of all time.’ She smiled proudly.