“And thrash!” Michael added.
“And thrash, whomever we see fit,” David concluded.
“I think it says a lot of your character,” I said. “That you’re willing to admit and acknowledge your mistakes, though.”
“You think so?” David asked.
“It’s a big part of growth,” I gave him a reassuring pat on the arm.
The two looked at each other, and small smiles crept across their lips as they nodded in agreement.
“All right, then, my name is David, and this big ox is my brother, Michael. Only half though. It’s usually worth mentioning because people always wonder why he’s so big, and me the runt of ah litter.”
“No, I can see the resemblance.”
“That’s nice of ya, but no need for flattery.”
“I’m Twist.”
“Twist, well met!” They both waved. Michael picked up my bags. Before I could protest, David added, “Now I’ll hear nothing of it. We got a bit of a walk ahead of us, we did disturb you from your sleep, and we did almost kill you. Least we can do.”
And, with that, they led me top side, and we headed for the cathedral and the Sons of Adam. It wasn’t necessarily the most ideal way to get in, but I supposed at the moment it would be better to hide in plain sight and avoid any thrashings.
Sons of Adam kept their territory very different than the rest of the city. The area was still crumbled and a shadow of its former self, but instead of a monotone look of bleak gray, the streets were filled with vegetation and greenery. Broken sidewalks and cracked cement housed shrubs and sprouting plants. Trees grew unattended, and vines painted the lower walls of buildings. As we walked through the streets, I could feel hundreds of eyes on me. Every now and again, I noticed the shadow of someone hidden within a window of the overlooking buildings, watching, waiting, passing judgment.
The surrounding areas were more than territory, they were viewed as sacred land, only those invited or seeking salvation were welcomed, others tended to be killed on sight.
“And over there,” David explained, “is where we train the new Angels. You wouldn’t tell much from out here, but the inside is filled with barracks and training equipment. We follow tradition, we do. Swordplay is a big part of our regimen. You are in for it, tell you this much. We make sure your faith is as strong as your mind, body, and soul. Sleep and food deprivation, pain elevation, endurance, and patience are all tested.”
“What happens if you can’t pass all the tests?”
“Given over to the Lord,” Michael said cheerfully.
“Oh.”
“It’s not as barbaric as it sounds. Adam feels if you can’t make it as an Angel, instead eh releasing you back into the world of sin, it would be kinder to release you from your flesh prison and give you over to the Lord.”
“How?”
They both smiled at me, giving no indication of adding more.
We passed other Angels on our journey to the cathedral. They nodded or offered praises. “May the Sons of Adam protect you,” seemed to be their go-to.
“Most new Angels live in the cathedral. After the initial six-month probation period, you are allowed tah wander out into the open and find a place to live. It is up to you how you set it up. Most of us stick to the bare essentials. The Lord provides all we need.”
“I could go for a TV, though,” Michael said.
“A TV. Now that’s a thought, in’it?”
The cathedral came into view; it was beyond comprehension how something so enormous could last all these years. Towers and spires rose high into the heavens. Gothic windows with stained glass reflected a gentle moonlight, as if a higher power shone down its appreciation. The cathedral took up so many city blocks it was hard to say how massive it was. Someone could probably be lost on the grounds for months without seeing the outside world. The skeletal remains of a vast airship stuck out the back, the long deflated nylon balloon fluttering in the wind, creating an eerie hollow around the top of the church. I stared in awe.
“The Lord’s gift,” David said.
“What?” I asked, still taken aback by the airship.
“When Adam and Eve were children, they wandered the land, lost and confused. Some say they traveled for days with no food. They fought starvation and exhaustion and kept going, they begged and pleaded for a sign. Then they saw the airship. They knew it was a sign from God. It hovered low over the land, smoke billowing in the wind. They followed it, unaware where they went, their eyes held firm to the sky. Then it went down! Crashed right here, into the back of the cathedral. What more of a sign could you ask for!
“They walked up these very steps, one by one, all fear and hunger lost. Using what little strength they had left, they pried open the doors. Running through the great hall, they followed their instincts through endless halls and doorways until they came upon a doorway, which led into a garden, its roof caved in by the airship! The sun shone down from above. They say a ray of light led them to the ship’s fuselage. And what they found was a miracle, tons and tons of food, and medical supplies. There was no crew or pilot. It was empty, driven by God himself! And that’s when they knew. That’s when they realized they had found Eden.”
Really, it all seemed like a load of crap. I wonder how long it took them to remember their recruitment pitch.
“That is incredible!” I offered. “I knew I was right to come here!”
“As time passed, they started bringing other children in, offering them sanctuary and food. Always younger children, some they would find just as lost and confused as they were. Others they would lead away from parents who weren’t fit to raise them. That’s was the trick of it, to build a following of devoted Angels. They needed younger children, those who weren’t tainted by heretics, those who still had minds that could be open to the Lord. That’s how the Angels were born. After they amassed their following, they were able to spread out and offer sanctuary and peace to those who needed it.”
I knew the rest. They tried to recruit normal people. Most laughed or met them with violence. It wasn’t working. The Sons of Adam took to other tactics. They sought the scum of the earth. Criminals, scavengers, and hunters. Somehow they were able to convince them that they needed saving, and the only way was to join them. Now with a reliable amount of hands, hands that were willing to use violence and the threat of death to recruit, they were able to take their small group and build an army. It was a religion built on brainwashing and fear mongering. And there I was, walking up the cobblestone steps, into the heart of it.
Two Angels stood on either side of the massive oak door. Standing statuesque, they both rested hands on the hilts of huge broadswords, tips digging into the ground. They didn’t acknowledge us, no matter how hard Michael and David tried annoying them by looking under their robes.
“Come on,” David said. “Crack a smile!” They didn’t, and, with a sigh, Michael pushed the massive doors open. I followed them in, my heart pounding and my legs threatening to run off without me. But the truth of the matter was simple. At this point, if they were going to kill me, I was already dead. There was no escape; I had to play it through until the end.
nside was the Great Hall. Yellow light danced across the walls, lit candles decorated the expanse of the immense chapel. Beautifully pillars held up a ceiling that was arched so high, it was hard to make out the paintings that adorned it. Most of the sculptures and art work were fading. Yet still it all seemed impressive, majestic, a tomb that preserved time as best as it could. Rows of pews lined the left and right side, all leading toward a dais, where a crooked cross hung low, illuminated by the light of a candle chandelier.
Most noticeable were the two recliners that faced the pews and rows of praying Angels, heads held low in a placating manner. On the recliners sat the two figures I would have to sway. The two children who walked this same path so many years ago were now older, and seemingly bored. Adam leaned heavily in his chair, leg draped over the arm rest. Eve leaned in close on her kne
es, staring at me with a hunger that turned my blood to ice.
He was pale as porcelain, just as delicate. His hair was braided in long dreads threaded with different colored yarn. He was topless except for the bullet proof vest he wore, dented from failed attempts at his life. He casually sighed, cleaning lint from his finely pressed slacks.
Her red hair was cut short and tussled like she just woke up, glitter shining around her wide, dark eyes. Her lips glowed a glossy ruby red. She wore no protection, just a simple white dress, and it, too, was finely cared for. The contrast between the two was striking. She had an air of innocence about her, meanwhile he clearly tried to hide an edge. He caught my eye and sat up, frowning.
“Eyes to the floor,” David nudged me. “Sorry, forgot to tell you the etiquette. Don’t be rude.”
“Sorry.” I looked down. The tiled floors were beautifully shined. I would like to see her face again. She was breathtaking; there was something enchanting about her. Like a fairy from the stories we were told as children… magical, yet dangerous.
“Praise be the Son of Adam and Daughter of Eve!” David and Michael both said. There was silence, another nudge from David.
“Oh,” I said. “Praise be the Son of Adam and Daughter of Eve.”
“Who is this?” Adam asked pompously. Had I not known, I would have assumed he was a Tower Baby. “Most importantly, why do you bring him before us?”
“He seems delicious.” Eve sounded sweet, just as I imagined.
Adam took a deep breath. “Really, Eve? Can you not?”
“What?” Eve leaned forward, eyeing me up and down. “Look at him… he’s perfect.”
“Can you let me work without interrupting for once?” Adam pleaded. “And maybe, use your inside voice?”
“My inside voice is the voice of God; my outside voice is the voice of my heart,” she said.
“And back to David.” Adam held up a hand to silence Eve. “Who is this?”
“We found him on patrol. He’s traveled a long way to meet you. He seeks salvation. Verge of death, he was, when we found him.”
“Not even because we were going to kill him,” added Michael.
“And a great transgression that would have been, wouldn’t it? He’s an all right guy,” said David.
“Thank you,” I muttered.
David patted my back. “Don’t mention it.”
“So,” I could tell Adam was annoyed. “You took it upon yourself to hold recruits? Tell me, Eve, when did we make David here head of recruits?”
“I don’t know, when did we? Was it last week?” she scrunched her eyebrows together.
“No! It was never!” Adam yelled.
“If you know we didn’t, why did you ask?” she asked.
He rubbed at his temples. “Just be quiet.”
“I don’t see why you always have to be a jerk,” she added.
“David! Why would you risk bringing an outsider to the cathedral without knowing if he is a danger to us?” Adam continued.
“Well… I don’t know… I just figured―”
“You figured, you figured! Everyone is always figuring. No one is ever knowing!” Adam shouted.
“Don’t yell at David,” Eve told him.
“Sir,” I said. “With all due respect, can I speak?”
“No!” Adam shouted.
“Yes, please tell us,” Eve’s smile made me nervous.
Adam let the words crawl out of his mouth. “Tell us.”
I had to think on my toes. I knew how it worked. They recruited people who were an asset. Usefulness was more important than belief. It made sense. All these recruits were merely pawns; they had to be. So I had to sell myself, then I realized I didn’t have to try hard. Dodger and I were well known throughout; we were the Gutter Punks, the most known gang all over.
“It would help if I introduced myself. My name is Twist… I’m a Gutter Punk.” I expected them to gasp in disbelief, and be in awe of my reputation.
“That’s a silly name,” he said.
“A Gutter Punk?” Eve frowned. “Is that a band or something?”
“No, we are well known thieves. We break into towers and steal meds and supplies for the people who suffer underground… The Empire has a hit out on us.”
They both looked at each other in confusion.
“Wait, isn’t that Dodger’s crew?” asked David.
“You know Dodger!” Both Adam and Eve jumped to full attention. “Is he with you?” Eve asked.
“David, if you brought me Dodger, you are in for a promotion!” Adam was animated with life.
“No… Dodger isn’t here,” I said through grinding teeth.
“Oh, shame.” Eve pouted prettily.
“So, I’m tired of the life I been living… with Dodger. I’ve done so much wrong, corrupted by the idea that I was helping people. But, deep down, I realized I was just lying to myself to justify my actions. The Empire wants us; they want us bad. And, if they find us, they will kill us.” I tried to sound as pathetic as possible.
“So you want us to hide you? Is that it?” asked Adam.
“No, not at all. I have just realized that, if I die today, where does that leave me? I fear I won’t be welcomed into paradise. And that scares the hell out of me. If you want to turn me over to the Empire, so be it. But I only wish to have this weight lifted from my heart, so I may rise to paradise.” I laid it on thick, but I knew it had to be enough.
“Send a messenger to the Empire, tell them we have Tweet―”
“Twist,” David said.
“Twist! I really wish everyone would stop interrupting me! Hopefully we are entitled to some sort of reward once they use him as bait to fish out Dodger.”
“But, wait,” I pleaded. “I thought―”
“You thought wrong,” Adam snapped. “Put him in the dungeon!”
“We have a dungeon now?” Eve asked.
“The basement!”
David and Michael looked at me with a hint of sorrow. “Sorry, mate,” David whispered. And, with that, they dragged me away, into a side corridor, down a poorly lit hall, over countless stairs, through a kitchen, and into a backroom filled with sacks of potatoes, flour, and canned goods. “We really didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“My apologies,” Michael added.
They slammed the door. The sound of the lock clicking into place was final. The lights went out, and I was left alone in complete darkness. No tools to figure a way out of the room. My first venture without Dodger, and already I was trapped.
I sat on the hard floor. The sound of tiny nails running back and forth told me I wasn’t alone. I wondered about the phrase “trapped like rats.” They clearly weren’t trapped; they could come and go as they pleased. Meanwhile, here I was, a victim of my size, stuck in a makeshift cell. Trapped. Trapped like humans.
For a while, I tried keeping track by counting the seconds, but, after eight minutes passed, I realized how useless it was, other than driving me crazy. What point did I have knowing how long I was down here? I leaned against the course cloth of a potato sack and tried to force my eyes to the darkness. I could make out dim shapes, and a faint light under the door. Nothing useful, all I could do was become acquainted with patience, save my strength, and bide my time. I closed my eyes. Still exhausted from my run across the city, beyond all sensibility, I fell asleep.
Then there was a click.
I looked around in confusion, my brain refusing to register that it was the door. No one entered, so what logic would it be that it was now unlocked? Caution refused to let me check, probably better to stay put. Nothing good could come from a mysteriously unlocked door. A mouse ran across my lap. I sighed, closing my eyes again. This had Dodger written all over it, but not me. I was careful and thoughtful. It wouldn’t suit me or anyone else to go running blindly into the unknown.
The Empire had caught me, but they still needed what Smith stole. Dodger would work something out to rescue me. The thought sent a surge of anger
through me. I had enough rescuing from him. I had to stand on my own two feet! The two feet I found had fallen to sleep as I stumbled up into a standing position, leaning on the wall for support. I staggered over to the door, trying the knob. It was cold to the touch and turned ever so quietly.
I stared out into the hall, expecting to find danger; instead, I found one solitary candle light flickering at the end. I thought it was floating on its own and entertained the idea that a haunting would bring a whole new level of trouble. But my eyes adjusted, and I realized the faint outline of a cloaked figure held the beaconing light. The figure waited for me to follow. I took my first step, and the candle moved down the hall, leaving me in devouring darkness.
I rubbed at my sleeping legs, watching as the light receded, deciding on following or staying. Before the darkness became absolute, I decided to follow. The candle kept just far enough ahead of me that I couldn’t make it out properly, but whoever held it was methodical. Every time it got too far ahead, it would wait, lighting the way until I reached a safe following distance.
I had lost track of how long I had been locked in the supply room, but it must have been for some time, because the once well-lit cathedral was now a dark tomb. The paintings on the wall took on a life of their own, sad eyes following me, pleading with me to free them. More than once I passed doors that masked the light sounds of snoring or women giggling, lost in a state of pleasure. Living underground for a majority of my life made me used to darkness, but the intrusive echoes of clattering feet on wood made me more than uncomfortable. Every step I took was like a loud announcement.
I followed the light up a set of spiral stairs and silently thanked my elusive partner for leading us. Always better to be higher up when behind enemy lines. That way you could piss on them, Dodger would say. And, you know, not get trapped. The stairs led to a narrow hallway, a maze of twists and turns, and finally a new light. The silent specter blew out the candle, and continued on, aided by the faint light in the distance. They slowed down, but I had grown tired of the mazes and hurriedly tried to catch up.
The Artful (Shadows of the City) Page 11