by James Axler
As he examined it, a voice came to Jak’s ears, calling from far off. He looked up and saw someone waving to him from the dirt track across the far side of the field. The sun was setting behind Jak, just a red line on the horizon now, casting long shadows as it sank. In that warm orange light, Jak could see that the waving figure was that of a child, thin and no more than four feet tall. Other figures, mostly children, were trudging from the fields, walking in the direction of the main ville. “Are you coming?” the figure shouted, cupping his hands to be heard.
Jak held up one hand, palm spread. “Not yet,” he called back, trusting the sun behind him would disguise his features, make him appear smaller than he was.
“Hurry up,” the child called anxiously. “They’re serving dinner in ten minutes, I think.”
For a few minutes, Jak watched the young farmhands make their way back to the ville. A sec man came walking along the road, eyeballing the fields for stragglers. Jak lay flat on the ground as the man passed on the far-off road, hoping his prone figure would be mistaken for another mound of earth in the fallow field; the man with the mule had already gathered up the farmhands who had been working this area. There was no reason to suspect someone else would enter once they had left.
After the sec man had passed, continuing his patrol along the dirt track to check the other fields, Jak eased himself up and began hurriedly brushing away more of the soil from the buried figure. The soil fell away, revealing the whole of a woman’s leg and pelvis, still attached to something beneath the surface. The leg was that of an elderly woman, old bruises showing on the flesh. The brittle, dry skin flaked away as Jak scraped the soil off, the white specks sprinkling over the dislodged soil like snow.
The sec man came back, and Jak lay down once more until he had passed on his way back to the bridge to Babyville.
BACK AT THE POOL, the air was becoming more chilly as the sun sank.
“I think,” Eddie announced, looking out at the visitors wading in the water, “that we should all think about getting back to the ville.”
“It turns pretty cold out here at night,” Michelle added with a patronizing smile. “Wouldn’t want our new friends to catch a chill, would we?”
“Who cares?” Joanna Dougal said, laughing. “We’ll all be twenty years younger tomorrow and fit as fleas.”
“That’s tomorrow,” Eddie told her with a warm smile. “Let’s get back inside for tonight.”
Michelle went over to a clump of nearby rocks and came back with some blankets and towels that had been stored there in a crafted wooden cupboard. She and Eddie held towels and blankets open as each of the bathers exited the miraculous pool.
OVER IN THE WEST, the sun had disappeared, and a thin sliver of winter moon was visible in the darkening blue sky, a silvery gash high on the horizon.
Under the moonlight, Jak dug urgently at the soil with his hands, brushing and shunting the earth away until he uncovered the whole figure of the woman that he had found there under the dirt. She was naked, her thin, emaciated frame somehow unreal, like a thing made of tiny piping held together with whisper-thin sheets of flesh. Her hair was a mess of pure white strands mixed with the deep brown color of the soil that clung to it, and Jak saw now that her hands had been tied. Her mouth was open, and Jak watched dispassionately as a black beetle came flitting out past her pale lips before burrowing itself into the upturned soil. There was a wound at her throat, a thick brown line where a cut had recently scabbed over.
Below the woman, still half-buried in the upturned soil, Jak saw the chest and hands of another figure, and the knee of a third. He worked at the soil a little more, confirming what he had found there, uncovering parts of five bodies before he finally stopped. Some had been tied up and garrotted, two had been shot in the head. All of them were naked, not even jewelery remained. Jak looked up and saw the field, over 150 yards square. There were more bodies, Jak felt, under the surface of that terrible field; he didn’t need to look. And every last one of them, he felt sure, was old.
The youngsters wouldn’t be here, buried in this shallow grave. No. They were recruited into the death camp that was Baby, forced to construct the buildings, to work the fields; sent out to find other marks who could be brought here, fleeced of all their worldly possessions, handing them over for a false promise of eternal youth. Jak could see it all now, in his mind’s eye. Now that he had found the bodies.
Making haste, Jak brushed dirt over the bodies he had uncovered, enough that his work here wouldn’t be obvious. Then, he wiped dirt from his hands and clothes and turned back toward the ville.
Chapter Fifteen
Everybody had dressed and, led by Eddie and Michelle, they made their way back from the bubbling pool. The sun set as they walked along the path to the little wooden bridge, back to the main buildings of the ville.
The crowd was in high spirits, and the newcomers all laughed and chatted as they went, all except for J.B. The Armorer was working at his own thoughts like a loose tooth, mulling over his concerns and suspicions in the face of the evidence that the pool had seemingly provided.
As they passed the watermill and came within sight of the accommodation buildings, Ryan made his way over to talk to his longtime friend. His skin smelled of sulfur now, as did that of the other bathers.
“You look worried,” Ryan said, keeping his voice low.
J.B. looked pensive as he answered. “Any idea where Jak is?”
“He’ll be okay,” Ryan replied. “Jak can take care of himself.”
“I’m sure he can,” J.B. agreed. “I just wonder where he’s lost himself. Wherever that boy went, trouble could follow.”
Ryan dipped his head in agreement as they entered the accommodation building. “I hear you.”
JAK STEPPED OUT of the shadows and walked boldly toward the footbridge that led back to the main area of the ville. As he walked over the bridge, there was a shout and Jak turned as a sec man rushed toward him, ordering him to halt. He was the one that Jak had seen checking the fields. He had to have spotted him and waited after all.
“Hey,” the sec man called. “Stop right there, you mutie freak.”
Jak ran for the bridge, determined to lose his tail.
WITH JAK STILL MISSING, the other companions sat at a large dinner table in the accommodation building, along with the members of the party that had been to the inlet. Once there, they were served a simple meal of toasted bread and cured meats. Eddie had excused himself before they sat down, but Michelle stayed to answer questions and simply shoot the breeze. She flitted between groups like a butterfly, taking time to speak with each of the visitors. There was a palpable feeling of high spirits at the table, for the various strangers took pains to get along with one another.
As they came to the end of the meal, Michelle had worked her way around to where the companions had gathered. “And how about you?” she asked, fixing her eyes on Doc momentarily before taking them all in. “How did you find the pool?”
“I have to say that I am delighted with everything so far,” Doc admitted. “I feel incredible, quite incredible.”
Ryan and Krysty nodded their agreement. “It’s a refreshing experience,” Ryan confirmed.
Michelle thanked them for coming and moved on, making the effort to greet and speak with other diners before they all left to retire to their bedrooms.
Having finished their meal, the companions got up from the table to leave. As they did, Jeremiah Croxton came over to speak to them, shaking Ryan by the hand. “It was good of you to come,” Croxton said, smiling in his grandfatherly way. “You did a splendid job getting us here, Ryan, and I really have to thank you for that.”
Pumping the man’s hand, Ryan explained that they had simply done what was asked of them.
“Do you intend to stay?” Croxton asked.
Standing behind Ryan, Doc made as though to say something, but Ryan’s words came first. “We’ll see,” he said.
As they left the dining hall, Ryan
turned back for a moment. Michelle had cornered Croxton and was speaking with him; the conversation clearly had a sense of urgency about it.
The five companions made their way upstairs behind an elderly couple who had been with them at the pool. The bald-headed man showed endless patience with his wispy, white-haired wife, as she slowly climbed the stairs beside him. Each stair seemed like a whole new challenge to her, as though her legs had never encountered stairs before. She looked frail; her limbs were so slender that they seemed almost like something alien, not human at all. The man’s breathing wheezed as he reached the top of the stairs, while the woman just seemed to go on and on, never speeding nor slowing, just climbing the stairs at an interminable rate.
At the top of the stairs, the man stood, catching his breath, and watched dotingly as his wife took the final stair in her gradual, meticulous manner. He glanced behind her then and, spying Ryan and company patiently following, he waved. “I’m sorry about this,” the old guy said, the words coming amid strained breaths. “Not as young as we used to be.”
“Not yet,” the lady agreed as she stepped over the final riser and onto the second-story landing.
“There’s no rush,” Mildred said politely, and the companions waited a moment until the elderly couple had made its doddering way a little down the corridor toward their quarters before they followed.
JAK RAN, TURNING RIGHT and heading toward four buildings that looked complete. The buildings were small, two-story dwellings, little more than huts really, and probably the first buildings to be constructed here by the stream. A tight alley ran between them, and Jak ducked into it, hoping to lose the sec man amid the shadows.
He ran along the narrow alleyway, head down, arms pumping. Behind him, he heard the sound of the sec man’s booted feet slapping against the gravel, giving chase.
“Stop right there, White Hair,” the sec man shouted from close behind him.
Jak kept running, sprinting around the corner between buildings and driving himself onward. He didn’t know where he was going, knew nothing of the layout of the ville beyond what he had noticed earlier as he had strolled to the gates. Maybe he should have made out that he was simply lost, but he didn’t want to answer a lot of awkward questions and draw attention to Ryan, Doc and the others. Easier by far to find himself a hiding place and stay there until these sec men lost interest.
Then suddenly Jak found himself out of places to run. The buildings ended and there was just open ville with its cobblestones stretching out before him, a goose squawking defensively at a barking dog.
The voice came from behind him. “Wait right where you are.” It sounded both angry and bored—typical sec man.
Jak cast a contemptuous glance over his shoulder, seeing that there were two sec men now, running up the alley toward him. Even in the darkness he could see that the one on the left had produced a blaster, a stub-nosed .38 by the look of it, while the other had his nightstick raised to shoulder height, ready to beat down any opposition. The guy on the right took priority then, Jak decided. He didn’t want to get involved in a brawl like this, but he had seen what had happened to the old guy outside the gate, the way they had beaten him, then chilled him, and he knew these idiots were just itching to exercise a little power.
“We saw you in the field,” one of the sec men was shouting. “Now, get down on the ground.”
Jak bent his knees, holding his hands above his head as though to obey the sec man’s orders as the pair closed in on him. Then, with no apparent effort, he sprang up and back, leaping high in the air, his body twisting as he left the ground. Jak’s left hand reached high above, grabbing the sill of the second-floor window, and his legs were instantaneously kicking out, running up the side of the building.
The stunned sec men followed the movement, the man on the right swinging his blaster wildly as he tried to track the jackrabbit albino youth. Jak kicked out, his right leg back, his left sweeping outward to land a bone-jarring blow on the jaw of the sec man with the .38. The man cried out as Jak’s kick connected, and he tumbled backward, the stub-nosed blaster going off in his hand, its fury loud in the confines of the alleyway.
Shit, Jak thought. Noise like that was the last thing he needed.
As the gun-toting sec man crashed to the ground, the blaster spinning from his grip, Jak landed on both feet behind the other sec man, bending his knees to absorb the impact of his landing.
The sec man swung his nightstick in Jak’s direction, but Jak was a chalk-white blur, ducking the attack. The sec man’s nightstick hit the wall with a loud crack, and Jak delivered a straight-hand jab slightly below the man’s ribs just a second later. With a pained howl, the sec man doubled over, collapsing to the ground between buildings.
Jak spun, his long white hair swishing behind him like a trail of light. The first sec man, the one who had the .38, was scrambling across the ground, trying to reach the weapon. Jak’s feet scrunched against the gravel as he ran for the sec man. The guy’s hand grasped the handle of the blaster, and he began swinging it around in an arc that would end at Jak’s head, when Jak’s left leg kicked out and the toes of his leather boot connected with the man’s jaw, punting his head like a football. The sec man’s head snapped back, cracking against the hard-packed ground as his body slid almost a foot along the alleyway. Jak was on him then, balancing in a crouch, his bone-white hands crossing before his ghostly face.
Dazed, the sec man looked up, a trickle of blood flowing from his mouth where he had bitten his tongue under the impact of Jak’s kick. He saw those eerie white hands move before him, then something glinted within them, something that the albino youth had produced from his sleeve like a magician producing a card at the denouement of a trick. The glinting thing passed close to the man’s throat and he didn’t even feel any pain, so sharp was its edge.
His throat slit, the sec man tried unsuccessfully to cry out as Jak plunged the leaf-shaped blade through his eye socket and into his brain.
The second sec man was just pulling himself up to a sitting position when he saw the strange albino outlander turn from his position crouching over his colleague. There was blood on the albino’s hands now, a spattering of scarlet dots that looked dark against his alabaster skin.
Jak powered forward, rushing at the remaining sec man as he tried to recover from the jab punch to his gut. The man looked slow, probably still dazed, with no inkling of what was going on. Jak punched him in the jaw using the hand that held the knife, knocking the man’s head back into the solid wall he was leaning against.
As the sec man sat there, his head swaying on his shoulders, Jak reached out with his left hand, slapping the man in the forehead to hold him in place against the wall. Then, Jak’s other hand swung forward and his knife slashed across the man’s exposed neck.
A moment later, Jak stepped back, watching as the sec man keeled over, leaving a bloody stain on the brick-work of the building he had been propped against. Jak replaced his knife in its hidden sleeve sheath, wiped his bloody hands on his dark trousers where the stains wouldn’t show and made his way toward the main yard of the ville.
“SO, WHAT DO YOU really think, Doc?” J.B. asked once they had reached their rooms.
Doc sat on one of the cots, stretching his legs out before him. “I think it could just be the miracle they promised.”
Ryan stood by the open doorway, watching as other visitors found their own rooms. “I’m inclined to agree, J.B.,” he admitted. “My muscles feel relaxed.” J.B. turned his gaze on Krysty. “You?”
Krysty nodded. “It was pretty sweet,” she said.
Taking a place beside Doc, Mildred contributed to the conversation. “That could just be the water,” she said. “Hot water can have that effect. It relaxes the muscles. It’s a great rejuvenator.”
“‘Great’ or ‘magical’?” Ryan asked.
“I didn’t see anything there that made me think it was of particular medicinal benefit,” Mildred answered, her gaze flicking almost guilt
ily to everyone in the room.
“Did you smell it?” Krysty asked. “It smelled of something. Not just water. Could that be…?” She trailed off.
“Or what about the leaves?” Doc prompted. “They were falling into the water. Perhaps when they break down they are releasing some kind of chemical compound that…” He paused, grasping for the words.
“That what, Doc?” Mildred asked pointedly.
“Well, I do not know,” Doc admitted, “but that is not to say it is not doing something. I mean, I feel fantastic, and so did the other people who tried it. You only dipped your toes, and that for just a minute.”
“It was a little longer than that,” Mildred corrected him. “I’m as fascinated by this apparent miracle as you are, but I just couldn’t see anything there to make me believe it could be happening.”
The room fell into an uncomfortable silence as everyone considered what they had seen. Finally, Krysty spoke, addressing a question to Mildred. “Then what are we feeling?” she asked.
“Whatever it is you think you’ll feel, perhaps?” Mildred proposed. “The placebo effect. Self-delusion can be a powerful force.”
Doc laughed harshly. “I am not deluded,” he scoffed. “You saw Eddie, Michelle. You have seen the people who run this ville, all of them young and healthy. Daisy was changed here by—”
“She says she was changed,” J.B. reminded him reasonably. “We only have her word.”
“And that of Mr. Croxton,” Doc pointed out.
“Who may have been sucked in with the same lie,” Mildred said.
Doc began to respond, and then he stopped himself, biting down on his words. “I see no reason,” he said finally, “that anyone would bring people here from far and wide only to—what? Play an elaborate practical joke upon them?”
Ensuring no one was nearby, Ryan spoke in a hushed tone from the doorway. “They’re getting everyone’s possessions, don’t forget.”