Rislo heard the conversation which was now going on between them and Flax. The technicians would accompany the two dozen or so High Hats and dismantle the machine when it was located again. They where equipped with powerful arc-lamps and power packs which they distributed amongst the High Hats as they assembled around the well-head Rislo had used so recently. Half the High Hat company climbed down the shaft, lamps ablaze, before Rislo himself was poked and prodded to follow into the now brightly lit shaft.
When he stepped out into the brightly lit area below, Rislo was greeted by the sound of gunfire. Stepping over the bones of he corpse of the whore thrown to her death during Rislo's earlier experience here, he moved forward to watch bemused as the High Hats shot nervously at the hissing, grey mass which swirled in the deepening shadows, waiting expectantly.
The Underworld was now colder, darker more threatening than it had been before. And there where noticeably more rats, bigger rats too, human sized rats. Rislo's frosted breath billowed out beyond the sanctuary of the arc lamp light shafts which seemed to be being absorbed into the darkness which was seemed almost solid and shimmering now.
He could feel the tension he had experienced in the dungeons here too. Only here it was greater, in fact as if the very darkness were about to come into life, that a living being was at this moment poised to overthrow the world of Dubh, attempting to break through the veil of darkness into the flesh of a Leviathan which would destroy and devour them all.
Inside the sanctuary of the arc-lamps, the long stretch of stagnant water ahead of them boiled with the frenzied thrashing of the great blind fish which, excited by the human presence, leapt furiously out of the water to snap at the High Hats who had paddled ignorantly into their domain.
Alarmed High Hats charged out of the pool rapidly as the blind fish bit chunks out of their calves and thighs, turning to fire at the now seething white mass which threw itself upon a hapless humans who had stumbled to his knees and, piece by piece, were being eaten alive.
While the High Hats wreaked their revenge upon the fish in the pools, spraying every inch with lead and throwing grenades for good measure, Rislo stood silently and watched beyond light and into the shadows.
Suddenly a chill ran down his spine as he saw, at the far extremity of his vision a familiar, silhouette within its own small sphere of light. It stood still and silent, scrutinizing Rislo. Its hunched physique with its horned head inclined toward him identified it immediately to the horrified Tallman.
Rislo screamed a warning which was lost in the uproar around him as the High Hats concerned themselves with the large white fish which now recklessly advanced across the soft, flipping and flopping, their jaws gaping for flesh and air. When Rislo looked up the apparition was gone, but above the sound of echoing gunfire he heard an impeaching and defiant howl. The giant now began to sweat with fear. It was the beast he feared most, the creature which had almost had him before and, he knew, had never trusted him for a moment. Only the presence of its adopted master Jonathon had it kept those awful jaws and claws from him. Now he had lived up to its expectations and Jonathon was not here to stop it.
The rest of the party now reassembled on the banks of the now blood red pools. The High Hat weaponry seemed to have driven off the manic fish and, apart from the occasional splash the pools seemed silent. Flax surveyed the scene, the bloody water seemed to amuse him, yet the increasingly erratic vibrations from the unstable field walls wiped the grin quickly from his face.
The jolts were stronger now, sending rubble from the roof of the underworld splashing loudly into the pools before them. The occasional, strobe like flashes of rogue energy lit up the world beyond their lamps. The light from this wild illumination seeming to cling to the ancient masonry and slick cobblestones. Here was a tantalizing glimpse of the world into which they were to venture.
Rislo peered sideways at Flax who stared angrily into the darkness. He now closed his eyes and his nostrils flared above his moistened lips as explored the cold air for the scent he sought. Cordite, ozone, the coppery scent of warm blood, the musty odour of multitude of rats, the fearful sweat of the High Hats who were anxious to conclude their business here and out there, other beasts which roamed and slid inhabited.
Flax swore in frustration and opened his eyes. Nowhere the scent of the one he sought amongst was these other powerful smells.
“Onwards!" he barked impatiently and the procession moved obediently into the blood filled pools.
A nervousness swept amongst the party as soft, submerged objects bumped against their legs evoking fear as they swam across the narrow but deep pool before them. Rislo shivered as he crossed. The monster which
lurked at the foot of the pool was still there, he could feel its presence.
It moved, glided slowly to the surface and took one of the High Hats at the rear of the party in its wide jaws. The hapless straggler slipped quickly beneath the water without a sound, unmissed.
The oscillating hum of the Field Walls and the drone of the engines from the Halls of Machines was now joined again by the eerie wailing from the city itself. Although not as loud as the noise Flax had heard in the chambers of the Elders, it was enough to drown out the patter and swish of the million tiny paws that followed Flax's party out of the pools and into the labyrinth of subterranean streets. Believing the promise of an easy escape back into the well shaft was secure behind them, the party advanced confidently.
The dark, dank and cold misty air began to swirl around them as they moved forward, a breeze at the moment, but alien to this place where the air had remained stagnant for a hundred years or more. Dust rose into spectres.
Flax moved slowly behind Rislo, flanked by his increasingly nervous High Hats whose eyes followed the thousands of scuttling, scrabbling shadows who kept pace with them just out of range of the arc-lamps.
Gone were the victorious grins they had worn after they had conquered the Tans and the Tallmen, replaced with open mouths and wide eyes as fear slowly gnawed away at their confidence. Buildings long forgotten, ancient and derelict, sprang up now on either side of them. The gaping doorways and windows revealing nothing except the increasing density of the shadows which pressed down on the dome of light generated by their lamps, which now seemed weak and inadequate like glass.
Flax halted suddenly and tasted the scent of the alien beast which emanated from the buildings on his right. He was aware too of the rolling, grey carpet of hungry rats that threatened now to encircle them in the darkness.
This single beast kept itself a fraction ahead of them. Whatever it was, it was basically human Flax perceived, although it reeked of some animal, primitive, threatening and entirely devoid of the scent of fear. Flax shrugged his shoulders, about to dismiss it as some half human relic lurking in the ruins, when a flash of automatic gunfire exploded from its position.
Screams erupted from the High Hats who fell dying in front of Flax, the echoes of the short burst of fire gave the impression to the High Hats that they were under attack from half a dozen different positions.
They began to fire indiscriminately in confusion and panic, swinging the beams of their arc-lamps around in an effort to isolate their ghostly attackers. They shot at their own shadows, at each other and at the arc-lamps themselves, thinking that the enemy would have less chance of hitting them in the dark, but forgetting in the chaos to just switch them off and disastrously ignorant of why the mass of rats around them kept their distance.
The two Tallmen technicians at the rear of the party saw their chance and threw off their robes to reveal the mirror armour of Tallmen warriors.They had been instructed by their Elders to kill Flax at the first opportunity and their laser batons began to cut down the panic stricken High Hats as they fumbled in the shadows with empty weapons and magazines.
Flax whirled around and, realising the Elders' treachery, directed his fire at the advancing giant warriors. The din of the battle around him drowned out his angry howls as laser fire seared the air arou
nd him, filling the street with a storm of flashing light. Arc-lamps went out or fell to the ground sending beams out into the darkness or
up into the air, everywhere but where they were needed.
The High Hats were in complete disarray now. Either dead or dying, fleeing or still shooting at phantoms or one another. Rislo saw his chance to flee in the mayhem too. Flax had dropped his leash to dispose of the would be Tallman assassins and Rislo took a pace forward, only to stumble as a volley of misdirected bullets thudded into his back.
He dropped to his knees and, as he did so, his eyes caught sight of a hunched lump of shadow which detached itself from the cover of the buildings on the right and hurtled toward the fray.
It crouched low, but sped forward at great pace, its steel jaws and long incisors reflecting the explosions of light around him. Rislo whimpered as he attempted to crawl away from the Turkanschoner as it made a bee-line for him, but found his way blocked by fallen High Hats and the mass of gleefully snapping rodents which now surged noisily forward.
Rislo closed his eyes and begged for another life terminating bullet before the beast reached him.
Chapter Thirty Five
Jonathon overcame the shock of the violence that hit him as he emerged from the gate. He stood still as stared as he realised that now was the time, his moment. Anger began to boil in his blood as he wrenched
away part of the heavily chewed door frame he stood in. Grasping the make shift club in both hands he threw caution to the wind and sprinted towards the unmistakable figure of Silus Flax, silhouetted against the flaring bloody light of the combat which took place in
the Underworld, the only one which filled his vision now.
He had seen the Turkanschoner ripping into the fight, he had seen Rislo fall in a hail of bullets. He imagined Milly there. He focussed on Flax.
Kicking his way frantically through the swarming rats, Jonathon advanced rapidly upon him. This was his opportunity to settle his score and this time his courage did not fail him. He gritted his teeth and sprinted hard, hurdling the sprawled bodies of High Hats to bear down on him adversary, who with his back to Jonathon, despatched the last of the Tallmen assassins.
Flax turned to find his High Hats totally submerged in the undulating tide of razor toothed rodents. A familiar scent hit his nose and he began to slobber and grin like a lunatic. He turned to face its source him and raised the muzzle of his weapon toward Jonathon.
He roared with laughter." My boy! My beautiful, beautiful boy! Where have you been!"
He pulled the trigger. The automatic rifle clicked unimpressively. Flax's sneer of triumph turned to a look of abject horror as Jonathon hurtled into him, one blow from the make shift club sending Flax into a dark void of unconsciousness and crushing top hat flat.
Jonathon panted breathlessly as he stood astride the now helpless man who had tormented and destroyed his life and many of those he loved. Images of those he had loved and Flax had ruined flashed through his mind. His Mother, his Father, his Grandfather, Dale and Tefkin, all had died because of this monsters evil aspirations.
With just one well aimed blow he could now discharge the oath he had sworn against this evil creature and avenge all those from whom Jonathon had been torn by death. Jonathon took the club in both hands and raised it slowly above Flax's skull. Just one well aimed blow.
Flax moaned, rolled his eyes and raised himself upon one arm then fell back unconscious. Jonathon spat on his upturned face and threw away the club in disgust at himself. He would not, even for a few seconds, become all he despised in Flax.
To kill a helpless man, even one like Flax, in this manner was not the way he would release himself from his oath. No, Flax would perish with this foul city and remained entombed here, death would release his spirit and escape was perhaps possible. Flax and its putrid corrupting spirit would fall together into the Power Reservoir of Rislo's Field Imploder. It was were they belonged, together, lost in the eternity of nothingness.
Jonathon became aware of the brooding silence that had arisen around him. The sound of gunfire ceased. The sound of the rats feverish feeding had halted, the wailing of the City's anguished soul had abated too.
The wind which had arisen so strangely had dropped to no more than a hushed whisper around him. The arc-lamps which where still functioning cast there beams upward towards the ceiling above, the drifting dust captured within them sparkling brightly as it spiralled toward the battlefield of the cobbled street, contrasting with the grey columns of smoke which rose up from the laser scorched bodies of unfortunate High Hats.
Time seemed to standstill.
Jonathon stared around him at the millions of pairs of rubies which burned in the half light, a blanket which spread as far as he could see in all directions, filled every ledge, lined every door frame, every vantage point, filled with the bloody luminescent eyes of the rats.Millions of pairs of eyes. But only one mind looked through them. They watched him as if paralysed. Watched as if helpless, as if stunned. The rats sat immobile as Jonathon walked between them toward the Turkanschoner and the wounded Rislo.
Jonathon trembled in the silence which had become like a pressure around him. He turned and looked at the helpless Flax who had begun to crawl around in a concussed state.
Jonathon's hatred of Flax rose in him again. A voice began to chant in his head.
“Kill him, kill him, kill him, kill him.Kill him, kill him, kill him, kill him” He gasped as he began to move back towards Flax, he was losing control now. He knew what was happening; it was the same as on the roof tops many years ago. Here they came again, the corrupted spirits of the dead had joined the malignant soul of the city, a great gathering of evil wraiths had invaded the bodies of the rats and now implored him to kill, to taint himself, to become one with them.
Yes, he had killed here in Dubh, but out of compassion and virtue, never in the cold blood as they, and corruption itself, now demanded.
A strong arm fell on his shoulder.
“Bad, bad, bad." a voice growled “Leave here quick.” Jonathon turned away shaking his head to clear his mind of the murmur of voices which had arisen to beseech him to kill Flax.
He held his head in his hands and the voices grew in volume and intensity. Sweating, shaking almost uncontrollable he whirled around and screamed;
" NO! "
As Jonathon's voice reverberated around the Dubhian underworld and the voices inside of him, his anger and desire to kill Flax fled. From somewhere and everywhere a dull boom sounded and, then above and below ground level the mournful howl of the City's corrupt soul rose again with a desperate vigour, and from somewhere deep in the bowls of the earth the dark wind rose into a fury, roaring upwards and striking Jonathon and his comrades so hard they were thrown from their feet. The ruins around them trembled as powerful shocks hit Dubh and the rats now fled in terror towards the liquid darkness that advanced upon Jonathon.
The Turkanschoner lifted Rislo's limp form gently onto his shoulder and urged his master into retreat. Jonathon looked uneasily at the motionless giant and feared the worst.
Sprinting across the street, fighting against the rising gale, Jonathon followed the Turkanschoner to the ruin where the Field Imploder was positioned. In the doorway a figure appeared, it was Milly Jonathon realised. A surge of cleansing emotion filled him and exorcised the remnants of corruption which still bit into his soul. Tears of joy ran down his cheeks.
He had feared he would never see her again despite the Turkanschoner's casual confidence in finding her. When he had emerged back into the Underworld he had imagined her dead in the fray. He flew towards her embraced her tightly.
" Yes! " he screeched. Here was power which would defeat the corruption which now flowed and howled in dark rivers in the city streets above and plummeted downwards in a last desperate attempt to rid itself of Jonathon and all it despised in him.
Another powerful tremor tore threw Dubh shaking Jonathon back to the task in hand. Milly grabbed his arm an
d pulled him through a door way through which the Turkanschoner had taken Rislo.
As his eyes became accustomed to the dim light of the hovel, Jonathon's eyes came to rest on the glittering network of tubes and pipes that been constructed in the ruined building. It was as he had seen it before in Rislo's hide-away, only the top of the construction was incomplete, a shallow dish-like space clearly visible amongst incomplete glasswork. A few pieces of remaining tubes lay an the floor beside the machine. Milly looked apologetically at her companions.
“It was so easy to start with but grew harder with every piece instead of easier” she sighed in dismay and Jonathon threw an arm around her shoulders to comfort her.
Rislo moaned and the Turkanschoner laid him gently beside his machine. He coughed painfully and opened his eyes gazing at his machine with affection. “Only the power reservoir and you would take me to the peace I seek." he smiled and caressed the glittering tubes of his construction with blood stained hands. Jonathon crouched down beside his weakening comrade and looked into his eyes.
“But the final pieces, how do they fit?" he whispered gently. Rislo's eyes widened in shock at Jonathon, he had not expected to see the person he had planned to desert again. The giant stared painfully at him.
“Forgive me" he wept. “Forgive me, I would have sacrificed you all." he coughed raggedly. Jonathon shook his head.
"It does not matter now my friend. This city corrupts all in its midst eventually, there is nothing to forgive."
Rislo's eyes rolled, threatening unconsciousness, but Jonathon gripped his shoulders and shook him gently back. He continued, guilty that he was not allowing the giant to slip gently away into the peace he so desired, but he still needed the Tallman's help.
“The final pieces Rislo? How do we assemble them ….and where is the power reservoir? "
The dying Tallman shook his head.
“The final pieces ... no importance." he said glancing over the machine. “The machine ...will work...Field Walls ... so unstable, so drained ...they cannot resist, already they moan, have heard them." he croaked his breathing becoming shallower and more strained with each painful intake of air. He shook his head in dismay. “All that is needed ...power reservoir, but you do not have time.... to find it now." his breathing exploded into a spasm of coughing which brought fresh blood to his greying lips.
The Chronicles of Jonathon Postlethwaite: The Seed of Corruption Page 31