Stepping across the threshold, Dave heard the man shift his weight and step inside. The well-greased hinges swung shut silently.
The open street and park they had crossed remained still, as if they had never passed through.
Chapter 19
Dave woke to the clatter of feet and disappointed voices. Nursing his empty stomach, he rolled out of his bedroll fully clothed and slid his shoes on.
Stepping out the door of the small, empty room, he made his way instinctively to the bathroom. A gritty ceramic toilet sat in front of him filled with brackish waste. Dave wasted no time in the room and emptied his pressing bladder into the mix, horrified at the resulting stench. The bucket next to the toilet held water, and he poured some of it into the toilet, manually flushing it down the still functioning pipes.
Washing his hands with the relatively clean water, he refrained from splashing water on his stubble-encrusted face. He dried his hands on his clothes as he stepped into the back hallway of the house.
The building last night had been filled with men and women wearing the same black-style clothing that Serif, Genie, and the archer wore. Most of them had gone to sleep communally, stretching out in the rooms of the ancient stone building.
Dave could see Serif standing at a repaired kitchen table with mismatched legs. A large map was spread across it. The material was thick and yellow. His hand moved quickly over the paper, sketching out the information that was being relayed by the scout standing before him.
The young girl looked barely into puberty. Dave had mistaken her for a boy when he first walked in. She stared at him in awe as he moved to stand behind Serif. The man in black asked her another question, and her focus snapped back.
Serif’s hands updated the map and pointed her to a pot next to the crackling fireplace. She hungrily pulled a ceramic bowl from the box next to it and ladled in the glue-like porridge that had been brewing most of the morning.
“Sleep well?” Serif asked.
“Yes. I was exhausted from yesterday.”
“Today will be different. We are waiting on the scouts to come back. A few have trickled in from the safer, easier to scout areas. We expect more to come back later today.”
“Any news?”
“None. Some information on the zealots being a bit agitated. A few wandering the streets, but their numbers are significantly diminished. We drew a lot of them away from the centre.”
“How many did we get yesterday?”
“Forty maybe… but most of them are still searching the area for us. They are very upset at us.”
“I’d be pissed too.”
“Help yourself to the food.” Serif pointed. The small girl was sitting against the wall, spooning it into her mouth like it was liquid gold. Dave could only think about how it looked like paste. “I’ll leave it for the people who are doing all the hard work.”
Turning back to the table, Dave surveyed the hand-drawn map. Tony’s observations about the concentric rings seemed to be holding true.
The map looked like a classic target of widening bands toward the outside, with consecutively thinner bands toward the middle. Alternating bands were filled with squares and long lines denoting streets and blocks of buildings, where others were only trails and what looked like images of grass or stone.
Red dots of ink covered the map.
“What are the dots?” Dave asked, pointing.
“Heavies. We have tried to map them in areas where there is a danger that people could walk into them.”
“They look like they match magnetic lines,” Dave said, tugging on some long-forgotten mathematic equations.
“What are magnetic lines?” Serif asked. The man stood, raising his pencil from the table, giving Dave his full attention.
“When you have a magnet, it generates fields off the north and south poles… You can see them with metal filings. They scatter in a pattern when you apply a magnetic force to them, and they cluster along lines.”
“There is a pattern?” Serif said.
“Look, you have drawn some.” Dave used his finger to trace loops starting at the rough centre, working his way out along a grouping of red dots in an arch and coming back along another group.
“That is an interesting idea,” Serif said. “We may be able to identify clusters better if we know the pattern in which they grow.”
“They grow?”
Serif nodded. “Yes, and like the lights at night have gotten more prevalent over the last few years.”
“Tony was right. Things are changing here too. It may be because of the field. The curtain is building up a charge. Eventually, if the charge gets strong enough, there might be so many of the gravity wells, what you call heavies, that everything is covered by them. The lights and the heavies are probably related.”
“That’s not good,” Serif said. Worry crossed his face, and he put the pencil down. “If that is true, we are doomed if we do not find this core and turn it off.”
“Agreed. The heavies will kill everyone well before the core does whatever it intends to do.”
A young man walked through the front door, the most recent scout. He was covered in dirt, and the defeated look on his face told everyone right away about his lack of success. Serif grilled him on what he had seen and the dangers in his given area.
Soon after, the young man ate his fill from fire-warmed pot.
Dave spent the rest of the night and most of the morning of the following day wandering through the house, occasionally looking out the window between the boards nailed over them, but most often to pass the time he simply tried to make conversation with the scouts.
They quizzed him about stories that their grandparents and great-grandparents had told them. Often they would ask him about culture and what he did as a child. They laughed at how he spent most of his life in school but were amazed when he told them that the people who spent their lives in school had built the ancient buildings they often lived in and scavenged from. He told them about when the city was alive, and the cars and subway worked. How you could travel around the world to meet other people who spoke different languages.
Sometimes they asked what the outside looked like, and he told them about the sun and blue sky. They were terrified when he told them about snow. Some even went so far as to call him a liar when he told them that it got so cold that the water itself became solid.
Soon the questions stopped, and the room buzzed with the idea of going beyond the curtain. Dave wondered if any of the adults and children would survive beyond the next week if they could not bring down the field.
A group men stepped through the door. One’s face carried a smile so wide, it looked like the man might break out into laughter. Dave moved cautiously to Serif’s side to listen to the young man’s story.
“…we think it is in the building.”
“Inside?” Serif confirmed.
“Yes. The shearing has taken half of the building, and most of the one next to it, but we climbed up the rubble and could see inside. It looks like the side of the buildings, but different. The blue walls are all metal… do you remember the plane? The aeroplane? The one that is in the field near the boulders on the north side? It looks like that. Wires and metal hanging off it. You can even see it on the other side of the building. It’s sticking out a little on the other side. We went and checked it out because of the part at the top.”
“There’s a lot of broken buildings in that area. Why do you think this is it?”
“When we tried to get in—”
“—we stuck to the floor! It was like the heavies, but in a different direction,” a young woman chimed in. “It’s true! I climbed in myself. I was standing on the wall.” She held up her hand and placed her two spread fingers against it perpendicularly. “I was walking on the wall! I got dizzy, and it made my stomach sick, but I got up there. I almost died when I stepped back onto the ground.” She showed them the scrapes on her elbows and knees. “Slid all the way down the rubble. I almost go
t stuck by the metal sticking out from the stones!” She showed a rip in on the back shoulder of her jacket.
“How far inside did you get?” Serif asked.
“Not sure. I got to a big metal door. It was locked, and I was afraid of falling. I got pretty high up inside. When I looked down, they were tiny, like bugs.”
“How many heavies were around the area?”
“None… none at all.”
“Did you see anything? Were you attacked?”
“Just saw some movement in the dark areas. No attacks. We stealthed in and kept super safe. It’s easy to get to… except for the sheered building. You just have to get through the graveyard.”
“Show me on the map,” Serif commanded.
“It’s in there?” Serif asked.
“Yup. Near the square. The weird hallway is maybe five hundred metres due south. The statue is almost near the centre; that’s why we checked out the area in the first place. We thought it would actually be the statue itself… I dared Joe to get inside.”
“You were scared too!” Joe retorted. His face scrunched up and cheeks reddened.
“Yeah, but I did!”
“Get some food,” Serif said. “Stay here for now. We will have more questions.”
The small gang bustled inward and crowded around the food, passing bowls and plates.
“Sounds like they found it,” Dave said to Serif.
“Are you sure?”
“That’s probably it. Tony told me that there might be a ship or something. The government guys figured that it was passing through and collided with the Earth. I’m not sure about the gravity issue, though. Maybe something is still running inside, and that’s why everything is messed up.”
“It’s in a very dangerous place,” Serif said.
“I thought the kids said that it was safe?”
“They were being brave and are lucky they got out of the area alive. Some stories come from that area about anomalies and creatures living in the buildings. I once thought that they were children’s stories until I saw it myself.”
“Where is it?”
Serif pointed to an area just off of the centre of his map. “We call it the graveyard. It’s where most of the people died when the curtain fell. It was diseased and haunted.”
“I don’t believe in ghosts,” Dave said.
“I didn’t say that they were ghosts,” Serif said.
Chapter 20
The day dragged to an end. Groups of scouts trickled in sporadically, each defeated and stating they had found nothing in their assigned areas. Serif diligently recorded the reported locations of any heavies or areas of danger on the map before thanking them.
Dave had napped throughout the day to pass the time, trying to get a restful sleep. Memories of recent events over the last month kept flooding forth; his sister’s overdose, the tunnel collapse, and Tony’s death all weighed on him when he sat and had too much time to think.
The front door had not creaked open in a while, and the light was almost absent outside. Trying to occupy himself, Dave walked to the entranceway and peeked through a slit in the boards as he had done over the last day or so.
Lost in his thoughts, he found staring at the dimly lit street was at least a mild distraction. He spent his time watching, trying to find something to watch in order to occupy his mind. After a while, almost all of the light was gone, fading into an almost perfect darkness. It wasn’t a sunset, but at least he knew what time of day it was.
His eye caught movement. Dark-robed guards shifted their weight subtly. Only their movement in the shadows betrayed their locations. They turned to look outward.
Outside, a man was running full speed across the park toward them. The occasional straggler outside turned to look at the spectacle. The man was not adhering to the stealth that the others had been so religious about.
“I think we have another scout returning,” Dave said to Genie, who was standing near the door. She peeked through the peephole. A split second later she braced against the door, drawing her blade with her free hand.
“Serif!” Dave hissed. “Someone’s coming.”
The tall man turned away from the table. “All of the scouts should be back. This one isn’t a scout.”
The entire house packed full of black-clothed men and women stood and drew their weapons. Dave stepped back from the window and bolted to his bedding to retrieve his weapon. The others had kept theirs on their hip, and he had felt foolish wearing it around the inside of the house. Now it made good sense to have it close at hand.
Drawing the short piece of metal, he stood at the hall and waited for the ensuing combat. Genie turned her head to look at the room and raised her hand off the doorknob. Her expression was calm and asked the same of the observers.
The room seemed to relax as the man outside politely knocked twice. Genie cracked the door, and the man said something quietly. Opening it, she let the man pass inside. His gaunt face was flushed, and he pushed the hood back from his head, revealing a thick lock of curly red hair tied back. He put his hands on his knees and sucked in air.
A container of water was brought forward, and he gulped it amid heavy breaths.
After a moment he stood upright and addressed Serif. “The council has a message to pass on; the bridges have fallen. The zealots have attacked the council again, but this time in force.”
“How many?”
“Over two hundred,” the man said.
“Two hundred? That can’t be right. Who told you?”
“I saw it with my own eyes. The council sent me away right after they got word the bridges were unguarded. They knew what was going to happen. The zealots were dusting everyone they saw in the city. I ran down the block and found a place to hide to watch and get an idea of numbers.”
“They had so much dust, it was hanging in the air. I didn’t dare stay any longer than to quickly look. By now the numbers have likely risen with the infected.”
“Which means that they may already know where we are. A number of the guards we left behind knew we were heading to this location. What they knew, she knows. How far behind you are the zealots?”
“Half a day. I ran the entire way. They are moving a little faster than walking. The first of them may arrive soon, though. There were a few that were moving quicker than the others.”
“You did well. There may be some food left—”
The man turned and walked toward the front door. “I have to go. There are too many! You can’t fight them! Find a place to hide!”
With that the man slipped outside into the darkness. Genie closed the door and peered through the hole, watching the man storm down the stairs.
Dave looked at Serif and could see the anger brewing on his face.
“What now?”
“We need to move. Bring me the scout who found the centre.” Serif rolled the map up, sliding it into a leather tube before strapping it to his backpack.
Dave took the hint and raced into his room to roll up his bed. His heart hammered. At any moment the horde might burst through the door, and this time no fire traps would be waiting to shrink their numbers.
Dave could hear Serif giving instructions and conversing with his people. Dave shouldered his bag and stood in the hallway, waiting. He walked to the crack in the window boards and peered out into the darkness again. Nothing but pitch black. It did nothing to calm his nerves.
“Three teams, the first moves directly across the open field to the brick house. Wait ten seconds then send the next team. We don’t need to be cutting each other down in the dark. If you bump into anyone in the dark, the word is ‘cat,’ the answer is ‘hunter.’ Does everyone get that?”
The room full of young men and women nodded. Some muttered the words to themselves to remember them.
“First team line up hands on each others collars, blades out,” Serif called.
The train of people tightened up, holding on to the backs of the collars and bags of the person in front of them.
Dave could see fear and apprehension on most of their faces.
“No running. Move smoothly and quietly,” Serif commanded.
Genie peered out the door into the dark, nodding to Serif.
Serif nodded back, and the door opened.
The group rushed outward, piling into the dark like a single long black snake led only by a general sense of direction. The darkness beyond swallowed them up as the last man disappeared down the steps and away from the lantern light.
“Next group,” Serif stated, and the assembly of human bodies into the train began again. Edged weapons of varying types were drawn and at the ready.
“Remember, you are the second group. Don’t cut down the first in the dark,” Serif warned.
Genie checked and nodded again, and the group shuffled forward, slithering away.
The last of them moved in closer, assembling the line. Serif stepped forward toward the front, motioning that Dave should stood behind him.
“Ready?” Serif asked the group.
“Everyone’s together,” came a call from the back. Dave recognized the voice of the girl who had found the core.
“Genie, close the door behind you when you follow,” Serif instructed.
Dave could feel the rise and fall of the man’s shoulders through his grip on the collar.
“Let’s go,” Serif said, and Genie threw open the door.
Serif moved quickly through the opening, and Dave stepped behind him, feeling the tension on his own shirt from the man behind.
The pitch black enveloped them immediately after Genie closed the door behind them. Their boots shuffled across the square, and ahead Dave could hear the next group’s feet slap on the ground.
A commotion ahead slowed Serif, and he could hear a clatter of metal on the ground. His pace slowed to a calm walk, and the patter of feet behind quieted. There were voices now, yelling. The echo off the dead trees and buildings made identifying the location difficult. Dave felt claustrophobic and exposed all at the same time.
Serif began moving to the left, and Dave followed in tow. They weaved through the grass, and it swished by their knees.
The Black Page 15