by Amy Cross
“When am I going to see you again?” Scott calls after her.
“Soon!” she shouts back, trying not to run as she makes her way across the town square and along one of the side roads. Finally she stops and leans against the wall, and tears start flowing down her face as she starts thinking about her family far away in the sun.
Three
“The Devil shall sleep forever,” Sam reads out loud from one of Faraday's old books, “so long as his coffin is not broken. Even if he wakes, the glass is strong enough that it can contain any rage he might unleash from within, so the only danger comes from the external world. Upon waking, the Devil will see his surroundings, recognize that all is hopeless, and return to sleep. This sleep will last until the end of days, at which point the Devil will be free.”
Turning the page, she sees a crude drawing of the Devil's coffin.
“The gardener must protect the tomb at all costs,” she reads, “and must be willing to die if necessary. All that matters is that the world is protected from the Devil's plans, and that the work of previous gardeners is not undone. For generation after generation, the gardeners of Rippon have stood watch over the coffin, ensuring that it remains undisturbed. There will be many who come to Rippon and try to release the Devil for their own purposes, but they must be stopped at all costs. So long as the Devil slumbers, the world will be safe. If he should awaken and find a way out of the coffin, all peace will be in danger.”
She sits back and tries to let those words reassure her.
“He'll go back to sleep,” she tells herself. “All I have to do is make sure those damn birds don't get down there and start pecking at the coffin again, and I don't have anything to worry about. I just have to keep the place completely sealed off.”
Hearing footsteps outside, she looks toward the door. Moments later, Anna pushes the door open and enters the cottage, although she looks startled and a little guilty as soon as she spots Sam.
“Hey,” she says quietly, barely able to make eye contact.
“Have you been crying?” Sam asks.
She shakes her head.
“You were out all night, though.”
“Is that a problem?”
Sam watches as she heads to the sink and pours herself a glass of water. She can tell that Anna really doesn't want to explain what's going on right now, but at the same time she feels as if something is wrong. For one thing, staying out all night is somewhat uncharacteristic behavior, and for another she seems to have a normal, un-rotten body.
“So do you think maybe we need to talk?” she asks finally, figuring that Anna seems to be lost in her own world.
“About what?”
“About the fact that you're not rotting anymore. I mean, you look... totally normal.”
“I got better.”
“You got better?”
“It's a miracle,” Anna replies, turning to her. “Look, I don't know exactly what happened, but somehow my body just healed itself. It was really quick, too, like suddenly a switch was flicked. Maybe it's that perpetual grace thing that Faraday told us about.”
“Maybe,” Sam replies skeptically. “Are you sure nothing else happened that might have changed something?”
“Like what?”
“That's the problem. I can't think of anything.”
“Can't you just be happy for me?” Anna asks, clearly struggling to stay civil. “Can't you just be all, like, Yay! Anna's okay again!” She pauses for a moment. “So did you bury Ruth Havershot?”
“Of course.”
“Cool. So I figure I might try to get some sleep, 'cause...”
Her voice trails off.
“You didn't get any last night?” Sam asks.
“I was playing video games,” Anna replies a little defensively. “I've got this new friend now, and he's into games, so we played all night. Sorry I wasn't around to play cards with you like normal.”
“That's okay,” Sam replies, “I kinda had an eventful night myself. It turns out that -”
“Tell me later, yeah?”Anna says, interrupting her. “Sorry, I've just got a bit of a headache coming on, and I think I need to sleep. And think. Not at the same time, obviously.”
“Actually, this is kind of important. Turns out, the -”
“Please?” Anna adds, sounding increasingly impatient as she trudges toward the bedroom door. “I'll be up in a few hours, I just need to get my head down. Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait.” She stops at the door and turns back to Sam. “Oh, and by the way, do you know if birds can dig holes?”
“Why?”
“I thought I was going crazy,” she continues, “but just now when I was coming home, I swear I saw these birds digging holes in the ground, like little tunnels.”
“That's not something birds do,” Sam replies. “They -”
She pauses.
Suddenly it huts her.
“Crap!” she shouts, leaping up and racing to the door.
Ignoring Anna's repeated questions, she runs outside and heads over to the crypt door, and sure enough she soon spots several small holes in the ground, with dirt being tossed out from each one. Getting onto her knees, she peers into the nearest hole and sees that there's a raven down there, burrowing through the soil in an obvious attempt to get down into the crypt. For a moment, all she can do is watch in stunned amazement as the bird uses its wings to dig through the dirt.
“Out!” she yells finally, reaching in and grabbing the bird before yanking it out and slamming it against the wall, killing it instantly. She repeats the process on several more holes, until finally she's managed to get them all and she stops for a moment, trying to catch her breath while several dead ravens are on the ground nearby.
“What the hell's going on out here?” Anna asks, watching from the cottage door.
“Ravens,” Sam replies, starting to fill the holes in with soil, “trying to dig down into the crypt.”
“Whatever,” Anna mutters, heading back inside. “I need to sleep. You can fill me in on the craziness later.”
“There might not be a later,” Sam replies, turning to look across the cemetery. “The world might be ending,” she whispers. “Fire, brimstone, death...”
Several ravens are watching from a nearby tree, and after a moment Sam can't help but feel that she's fighting a losing battle. Even if she manages to find some way to stop them digging, she knows they'll come up with another plan, and another, and another. She can already see her life descending into a constant battle of wits with hundreds of black little birds.
“What if I can't do this?” she asks herself out loud, as a cold sense of doom starts to creep across her shoulders. “What if they get down there and break the Devil out of his coffin? What if...”
She pauses as, finally, she realizes that she only has one choice, one option that might be enough to keep the coffin safe.
“Oh God,” she whispers to herself. “I know what I have to do.”
Four
“What do you want?” Anna whines, rolling over in bed and looking toward the door. “I'm trying to sleep!”
“I came to say goodbye,” Sam replies.
“Uh, okay. Goodbye.” With that, she rolls back over and tries to get comfortable again, hoping against hope that Sam will leave her alone this time.
“I mean it.”
“Have fun. Seeya tonight.”
“No, I mean... Goodbye, Anna. I'm leaving.”
Sighing, Anna rolls back to look at her.
“Where are you going? You can't leave Rippon or that knife in your head'll kill you.”
“I'm going underground.”
“What?”
“Literally.”
“Like a Womble?”
“Something's happened,” Sam continues. “Try not to panic, but the short version is that the Devil has started to wake up and there are ravens trying to get down and help him finish the job, so the only option left to me is to go and live permanently in the crypt so that I can fig
ht off the birds as and when they appear.”
Anna stares at her for a moment.
“What?” she asks again, frowning as she tries to make sense of what she's hearing.
“The birds,” Sam says with a sigh. “They're not going to stop until I've found a way to seal that place off forever. So unless or until that day comes, I have to live underground in the chamber and protect it from within. I'll probably come up to the surface every six months to get more supplies of food and water, but apart from that... I can't afford to have the door open, so for the most part it's going to be a one-way journey. I'll take a torch and some books. It won't really be that bad, I guess. I'll have a lot of time to read, and I can continue to fortify the place.”
“Living underground?”
Sam nods.
“Like... Forever?”
“The alternative is to leave an open target,” Sam points out. “Those ravens are inventive. If I stay up here, they'll manage to slip past me eventually, but if I live down there I'll be much better prepared. Sure, I have to sacrifice things like daylight, companionship and a life, but...” She pauses. “Well, that's just how things are. I can't let the Devil escape, if that happened things would be... I don't know, exactly, but I'm pretty sure the end of the world would be along shortly. I know this all sounds insane, but I don't see that I have a choice. Things have been insane for a while anyway, so I figure this is just... one more step in that direction.”
She waits for Anna to say something.
“So this is it,” she adds. “I came to say goodbye.”
“Well...” Anna pauses. “I was going to say goodbye to you later too. I mean, now that I'm better, I was thinking of moving out of the cottage anyway.”
“You were?”
“I'd kinda like to have a normal life,” she continues. “I've met this guy, and I think things could go pretty well. Some day I might even save up enough money to move out of Rippon altogether. Living in the cottage was useful when I was rotting and I couldn't be seen out too often, but now...” Her voice trails off for a moment as she feels a twinge of sadness. “I guess all good things have to come to an end, right?”
“I was hoping you'd be able to stick around,” Sam replies, “and mow the grass sometimes.”
“I'll try, but...” She pauses. “I don't know if I can, like, commit to something like that. Not in the long-term. You should probably try to hire someone.”
Sam nods.
“I'll miss you,” Anna adds.
“Ditto.”
“And I can always come and visit. Even if I move away from Rippon, I'll come back and see how you're doing. I swear, I won't forget about you!”
“I'll be underground all the time,” Sam points out. “I think maybe I should just make a clean break, you know? I'll just focus on being happy in my own company. There's a stack of books I've been meaning to read anyway, and I could always do some writing, maybe keep a diary so Henry can read it one day and know who I am. It'll be pretty spooky living down there with just the Devil's sleeping body for company, but I reckon I can make it work. As long as I've got a torch and plenty of things to keep my mind occupied, I think I might even start to enjoy it after a while. Plus, I'm sure the ravens'll keep me busy. I'll have to try to come up with some kind of system for making sure they don't cause too much trouble, though, so... You see? I've already got loads of things to be doing.”
“Sounds cool,” Anna replies. “You'll be keeping busy while you're... living alone underground, mostly in the dark, with just a dead body for company.”
An awkward silence falls between them for a moment.
“Okay,” Anna says finally. “This isn't... This isn't because of what I said yesterday, is it? 'Cause I was maybe a little out of line with some of the things I said about you...”
“It's nothing to do with that,” Sam replies awkwardly. “It's just that the Devil happened to show signs of waking up last night and now I have to do something about it. It's my job.”
“I don't really think you're a bad person 'cause you had a kid,” Anna continues, “and I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that. I actually think you're a good person. I mean, even if you can't be there for Henry, at least you're saving the world, and that's got to be a bonus, right? I just... Like I said, I'm sorry for yesterday.”
“Forget about it.”
“But -”
“Just forget about it,” Sam says again, interrupting her. “It's... No harm done, okay?” She pauses. “Just have fun. I hope things turn out okay with that guy, and for what it's worth, I'm glad you managed to get back to normal. It's not like you could do much to help me now anyway. It's a one-woman job.”
“Maybe you'll get back to normal too,” Anna suggests. “One day, I mean...”
“Maybe one day,” Sam replies with a faint, sad smile. “I'm not gonna be holding my breath, though. Anyway, you were right about one thing yesterday. I've had my time in the sun, and now it's time to go down into a hole and get on with the task at hand. The past year has been fun, although I didn't realize it at the time. Anyway, now that time is over.” Another pause. “So I'll be heading down today, as soon as I've picked up some supplies from the store. Thanks for everything, though. You've been really good company over the past year. It's been... emotional.”
“You too,” Anna replies, shocked by how suddenly things are ending.
“And good luck in your new life,” Sam adds. “I'm sure you'll do great.”
“I can always help, though,” Anna adds. “If you -”
“It's fine.”
“I'm just saying -”
“You're not the gardener,” Sam says firmly. “I am. You're just... You're just someone who was hanging around for a while. It's not like you actually have a role to play here. This is my job, not yours. I have to do it alone.”
Anna watches as Sam walks away. For a moment, she's tempted to call after her, but seconds later she hears the front door swinging shut, followed by footsteps walking away from the cottage. Finally the footsteps recede into the distance.
“Goodbye,” Anna says softly, with tears in her eyes. “I'll miss you.” Settling back down on the bed, she stares up at the ceiling and tries to work out what she's going to do with her life now that her days at the cemetery are over. Although she had begun to think that she could stay by Sam's side and help her when things got tough, now she realizes that she's not needed. “Fine,” she mutters, “good luck going it alone. I wouldn't help you even if you begged me.”
Five
“That's a lot of canned food,” replies the store clerk as he rings up Sam's purchases. “Are you throwing a party or something?”
“Sure,” she mutters as she stares at the box of tinned beans, tinned vegetables and dietary supplements. “It's gonna be the most fun thing ever. Every party needs canned food, right?”
“That'd normally be eighty-two fifty,” he continues, “but the gardener always gets free service from stores in Rippon, so there's no need to open your wallet. It's all on the house.”
“You can't give me this much free stuff,” she replies. “Come on, I'll pay -”
“I wouldn't hear of it,” he tells her. “The people of Rippon might not know exactly what goes on in that cemetery, but we know it's important and we know we wouldn't want to not have a gardener. So, many years ago, it was decided that whoever has the role of the gardener, they're treated a little differently to everyone else. Again, we don't really talk about it very much. We prefer not to make a fuss. It's just something that's understood by everyone. We all know that our little town is quite special.”
“But -”
“Please, Ms. Marker,” he continues, with a hint of fear in his eyes. “We're all so grateful. This is all we can do to help, so let us do it. What you do for us... It's appreciated, that's all.”
She opens her mouth to argue with him, but Sam finally realizes that this gesture is important to the town. It might only be a box of tinned food, but it's a show of suppo
rt, and she actually feels strangely emboldened.
“There are rumors,” the clerk continues. “People talk about what might be hidden in that cemetery. Some say it's the Holy Grail, others say it's some other kind of treasure or maybe the body of... someone important. No-one knows for sure, and no-one really wants to know, but we're grateful for the fact that there's always been a gardener to keep us safe, and to keep the world safe. Even if we don't know what's hidden in the cemetery, we know that it should stay there, and that the work of the gardener is dangerous.” He slides the box toward her. “So really, a box of stuff like this isn't very much in the grand scheme of things, is it?”
“Thanks,” she replies, lifting the box and heading to the door.
“Nothing's wrong, is it?” the clerk calls after her.
She looks back at him for a moment. “No,” she says, forcing a smile. “Nothing's wrong. I just... I just like to be prepared, that's all. The last thing I need is to have any nasty surprises.”
***
“Okay,” Sam mutters as she fixes the last of the padlocks to the crypt door and stands back to admire her handiwork. “Let's see anyone try to break in now.”
It's way past midnight and she's standing in the entrance tunnel that leads down to the main part of the crypt. She shines the torchlight across the door, where more than one hundred individual padlocks have been fixed to various parts of both the door itself and the new set of chains that she has woven through the handles and support structures. Although she knows she can never be completely secure, she figures she's made a good start, and she has plenty of time on her hands for coming up with other security measures.
She drops the last of the padlock keys into a small tin and closes the lid.
Hauling the box of food up into her arms, she starts making her way along the tunnel, heading deep down into the depths of the crypt. When she reaches one of the ante-chambers, she takes a short detour and drops the box next to a makeshift bed that she has already started to construct. Nearby, several other boxes contain the other items that she's planning to use while she's underground: stacks of old paperback books rescued from the local charity shop; magazines and newspapers, along with piles of crosswords and other puzzles; a pack of cards, so she can play Solitaire to her heart's content; and more food, which used sparingly should keep her going for six months until she takes a brief trip above-ground to fetch more supplies.