“Does it now,” Ingo said.
Milly dropped her club and pack and sat against the wall. Ingo and Jerome did the same, and together they watched the rest of the fellowship each put an ear to a pipe. Robin was the first to join them against the wall. She felt her pipe was full and flowing fast. Tye thought that was a good sign because that might mean the others were used less, if at all. Before The Day the coliseum held sixty-two thousand people. That’s a lot of beer and urine.
In the end they chose the top pipe because Peter said he heard nothing more than a trickle in that one. “Give me the hammer,” said Tye.
“We’re really doing this?” Jerome said. “What if there’s no outlet? Shouldn’t we send a scout through first?”
“You have a point, the six of us trying to back out of there would be a nightmare, and it’s at least a quarter mile to the leeching fields.”
“This should dump into something, though,” Tye said. “And waste pipes never scale down in size as they move outward. If anything, they get bigger. We’re OK.”
Silence. Milly almost spoke up, but thought better of it. Should they vote? Did they have any other options? Then Peter surprised her again.
“Tye, keep a look-out up the tunnel, please,” Peter said. Milly was amazed Tye complied. Peter pounded the seventy-two-inch pipe like a blacksmith shaping a blade, with fury and precision. The pipe cracked right away, but the party took two turns each before a small shard broke off and fell into the pipe. There was no splash of water, but the scent that snaked from the crap tube was of petrified rat infested shit and rot.
“Someone’s gonna hear us,” Robin said.
“We’re deep and it would take a while for them to find us,” Tye said. “If we get this done soon, it’ll be fine.”
The echo of screeching rats got louder as the hole in the pipe widened. When a large chunk cracked off the party fell silent.
“I’ll go first. Stay close and one torch should do it. Cover your face and nose. There could be toxic fumes down there,” Tye said.
“Do flames mix with toxic fumes?” Peter said.
“Good question. You can go first,” Tye said.
Nobody spoke.
“OK then,” Tye said. He tied a piece of cloth around his nose and mouth and wriggled into the pipe. He was only gone a few moments when he yelled, “All good. Smells like low tide mixed with shit and rotting flesh, but’s it’s dry except for a layer of crap dust.”
Milly laughed. The way his voice echoed made what he said funny. “I’ll go next,” said Milly.
One by one they climbed into the pipe, crawling on their hands-and-knees behind the flicker of Tye’s torchlight. Rats scurried ahead. The patter of tiny feet. Not rats, but something bigger. Her heart pounded, and she screamed when her hand crushed a large cockroach. The party crawled like that for fifteen minutes. The faint sound of water falling into water echoed far off and got louder as they went, filling the tight space.
Tye screamed, and the pipe went dark. Milly froze and Jerome’s head hit her ass. There was a splash and Tye yelled every curse she’d ever known. He finished with, “Stop. Halt. Stop. Don’t go another inch.”
They waited.
Minutes ticked by, and with each passing second, panic rose in Milly.
“Peter.” It was Tye. “Can you get a torch going?”
“Yeah,” Peter said. Sparks filled the tunnel as he lit a torch.
Light blossomed from the torch. Milly was inches away from falling as Tye had. The pipe opened into a narrow sewer, and directly below, one of the ceramic pipes spilled a toxic mix of urine, feces, and liquid garbage into the channel.
“What do you want us to do?” Milly said. “Are you OK?”
“Fine. Full of shit, but fine,” Tye said.
“You’ve always been full of shit,” Peter said.
“Good thing shit don’t mean shit,” Ingo said.
Nobody laughed.
The remains of a metal grate that had once covered the pipe opening had rusted to nothing, leaving only knife-like protrusions all around the pipe’s mouth. Snakes swam in the sewage below, and the top of the sewer disappeared into blackness. Tye clung to a service ladder on the far wall.
“This leads out to the leeching fields. This ladder should go up to a manhole, but it might be buried. Wait while I check it out,” Tye said.
“10-4,” Milly said. She’d learned the term in one of the sacred texts, but couldn’t remember which one.
Again they waited, this time for several tense minutes. The roar of the shit waterfall, and the stench made Milly queasy, but before she puked, Jerome and Robin beat her to it. Soon all of them except Ingo were retching and spitting. Milly’s eyes stung. The heat of the torch warmed the pipe and reconstituted the dried crap, and it dripped on them as they waited.
Peter said, “I hope we can go that way because there’s only one other way.”
Swimming in the crap canal wasn’t happening. She’d screw Gerall before she’d do that. When she figured fifteen minutes had passed, Milly was worried. There’d been no sounds of a fall, no screams, but the ceaseless water made it hard to focus.
The jerky beam of a flashlight coming down the service ladder silenced the party. She’d seen flashlights in Stadium, but they were rare.
“Who’s there? Milly? Peter? It’s Tester.”
“What have you done with Tye?” Peter said.
“He’s fine. Waiting for us on the surface,” Tester screamed over the sound of waste water.
“You just happened to be here?” Milly yelled.
“Ingo tipped us off,” Tester said. “The details were easy enough to figure out.”
“Ingo?” Peter said.
“You can hit me when we’re out of here, but I for one am done with the stench of shit. Can we get out of here before we kill each other?” Ingo said.
Milly sighed. “What do you want us to do, Tester?” Milly said.
“I’ll toss the end of a rope over. Tie it off on those pipe cover support brackets and I’ll tie my end to the ladder, and you’ll pull yourselves across,” Tester said.
“No way,” Robin said.
“It’s not too bad. Only ten feet. You can do it. And what’s the worst that could happen? You end up on a Willy Wonka poo-poo chocolate river ride to the leeching fields where fresh raspberries await you.”
“Who the shit is Willy Wonka?” Jerome said.
Tester tossed the rope end over, and it proved to be easy getting across. Nobody had any trouble, and Milly felt relief as she climbed up the rusted ladder to the surface. She passed through an open manhole, and Tye and Kat waited for her.
Soon Jerome, Robin, Peter, Ingo, and Tester joined them. They stood in an alleyway surrounded by rusted buildings.
“If you knew we were coming this way, why’d you let us crawl through shit?” Milly said.
“I’ve been waiting for you to get here for seven years and you blow me off?” Tester said. “Not very nice.”
“We don’t trust you,” Tye said.
“Does this help?” Tester said. He nodded and Kat stepped forward and gave Milly her loaded Glock and a bag of personals, including the compass and synchronized watch, which was still ticking. They gave Peter his axe, and Tye a rifle with eight bullets. Robin and Jerome got knives that looked like small swords. Kat also handed out jackets, gloves and hats. Things they’d need as the weather got colder.
Tester said, “Tye, I didn’t have time to make a bolas, but I have twine you can use to make one when we have time. And FYI – there was no way I could have gotten through the maze with any of you with me. We had to make bribes just for ourselves.”
“You don’t work for Gerall?” Milly said.
“I did.”
Ingo said, “Tester stands with us at the turtle. I’ve foreseen this. He’s been waiting for you. Getting information. Like the map.”
“Why you, Kat? I got the impression you believed the turtle was a joke,” Tye said.
; “That’s one way the new world is like the old, you have to keep up appearances,” Kat said. “I’m along for the ride. They say all are welcome, and I’ll work. Don’t care what. I’m just tired of running.”
The rusted metal buildings lined an overgrown maintenance road. The remains of a fence stood before them, but there were gaping holes, and they passed through. They headed east, leaving the decaying city of Houston behind. Sagebrush and weeds filled every open space, and soon they were walking through the remains of old farming homesteads, most of the structures dilapidated and collapsed, but the sharp outlines of the fields were still visible, though completely retaken by the wild.
The air was warm, but not humid, and they stopped to rest on the bend of a great river where a dock had once been. White concrete pilings jutted from the water like broken teeth from dirty gums, and pieces of decking were scattered along a rough rocky beach.
Tester had brought good food, and as they ate, he opened the map.
“I added everything I’ve learned. This is where we must go.” Tester pointed at a spot on an old tourist map.
It was a hand-drawn picture of a mountain with white lines streaming from the peak.
“What’s that at the top?” Jerome said.
“Snow,” Tester said.
“Will we ever see snow?” asked Jerome.
“It’s spring, my boy. You mustn’t think of such things,” Tester said.
Chapter Seventeen
Year 2069, Mississippi
Tester led Tye and company down old interstate ten, which ran along the shoreline of the Gulf of Mexico. They headed east and stayed off the overgrown road, hiding within the vegetation that had retaken the land. Everywhere Tye looked, signs of the gone world prodded at his memories; rusted out cars, collapsed buildings, and piles of bones. Vine covered square structures blended into the rolling green, but street signs, manhole covers, and bent and broken light poles helped Tye visualize the order of the old world. Deer and fox fled before them, disappearing into dilapidated structures and thickets of brush covered in kudzu vines. A gentle breeze brought the scent of blue-eyed grass and purple blazing star.
They traveled by day and hunkered down at night to avoid virals. Staying close to the old road made it easier to cross rivers, ponds, and swamps, and they made good time, but still took three weeks to walk across Louisiana. Tester called a halt when they came upon an old metal sign that was barely legible due to peeling paint. As Tye read Welcome to Mississippi, he envisioned the major challenge that lay ahead. They had to cross the Mississippi River.
They made camp in an old stone building that had been a water pumping station next to a large creek. The rusted pumps were nothing more than hunks of brown metal, and the water had risen and flooded the lower section of the building. Kat stood watch, and a fire was lit in a secluded corner. Stars blinked down at them through holes in the roof, and the howls of wolves rose above the braying whine of insects and birds.
“Can I look at the map?” Tye said.
Tester eyed him, but pulled the folded piece of paper from his breast pocket. “Careful with it.”
Tester lit a smoke of Stadium tobacco and went outside to check on Kat. Tye opened the map before him. Milly, Peter and Ingo joined him. Jerome and Robin were already snoring. “This is it,” Tye said. He pointed to Cheaha Mountain in Alabama, which was circled in pencil. “We’re here.” He pointed to where interstate ten crossed into Mississippi.
“Yeah. I’ve studied that thing more than you,” Peter said.
Tye looked over his shoulder, checking if Tester had returned. He hadn’t, and Tye flipped the map over to where Tester had scrawled notes about the guidestone. A pencil drawing showed four large rectangular slabs of stone standing upright, each fanning out at an angle from a central pillar topped with a capstone decorated with signs of the turtle. Squiggly lines represented writing on the guidestone, and gray streaks of sunlight pierced through holes in the stones.
“You buying any of this shit?” Peter said.
Tye said nothing. He’d been asking himself why he’d left home more and more as they trudged across his old world gone sour. Tye missed Respite and wanted to go back. He’d never been a religious man, and this turtle stuff wasn’t far off from that crazy crap.
“What matters is the turtle,” Tester said. Tye hadn’t noticed his return. “We’re following my path.”
Ingo coughed.
“Our path,” Tester said. “You think Ingo is lying?”
Ingo complicated things for Tye because he trusted Ingo’s vision, so by association had to buy into the turtle. “I don’t doubt Ingo,” he said.
“Ingo said nothing about the guidestone. He hasn’t foreseen it. Why is that? He has plenty of information right here,” Milly said as she pointed at the map.
Ingo said nothing.
Peter said, “This is nuts. How would somebody move pieces of stone that big to the top of a mountain? Build something so large with such precision?”
“It is possible. The ancients did it,” Tye said.
“The final guidestone was constructed in 1980, decades before what you call The Day,” Tester said.
Milly harrumphed and Peter chuckled. “Someone knew eighty years ahead of time that the world was going to end? How is that possible? Am I to believe they time traveled?” Milly said.
Tester didn’t answer right away. He gazed up at the stars as he took a long pull on his burner. When he spoke, his voice was sad and forlorn. “You think people didn’t see the end coming? The signs were everywhere. Tye, surely you understand.”
“It was like everything else in life you don’t want to accept. We all assumed the end would come, no doubt about that, but nobody thought it would happen in their time,” Tye said.
“Except for the people who planned. The forefathers of Argartha knew. They anticipated the fabric coming undone,” Tester said.
“What of your military friends? They didn’t read the signs?” Milly said.
“Soldiers follow orders. Without them they’re like lost lambs. They don’t hold with new knowledge and faith. They’re probably still trying to contact central command in the Cheyenne Mountain Complex.”
“The Airforce place?” Tye asked.
“Yeah,” Tester said.
“No word from them?” Tye said.
“Not that I’ve heard. The virus infiltrated even the most secure installations. Military are people, and it’s to be expected that family members would be smuggled in,” Tester said.
“And with them came XK119,” Tye said.
“What about the rest of the world?” Peter asked.
“The French broadcast, and there’ve been various random military transmissions over the years, but nothing specific or dependable,” Tester said.
“We’re going to a military place like that, right? A place like this Cheyenne Mountain Complex you mentioned?” Milly said.
Tester and Ingo laughed. “No,” Tester said. “Not a place like that at all.”
“Does Argartha transmit? What’s the place like?” Milly said.
“They transmit, and a reborn boosts their signal. You heard them, did you not?” Ingo said.
“Yes,” Milly said. “If it wasn’t for that message, me and my friends wouldn’t be here.”
“As to what it is, I know only of the myth. It’s at the end of the path of understanding, a society for the new world. A utopia where there’s no war, no famine, and no monsters,” Tester said.
“The first centurions of Argartha built the guidestones in secret before the fall, planning for a new world gathering. The guidestones are a trail of breadcrumbs of a sort, a path that if followed will lead to the turtle, and to Argartha,” Ingo added.
“You followed the path? Found all the guidestones?” Milly said.
“No. Many Bothans died to bring me this information,” said Tester.
Tye was the only one who laughed.
Tester sighed. “No, I didn’t discover all this. I piece
d it together, but I wasn’t fully convinced until I met Ingo.”
“No, brother, it was you who reaffirmed me,” Ingo said.
“OK, we all love each other,” Peter said. “Can you give us a bit more?”
“The old calendar is the key,” Tester said. He grabbed his pack and pulled out a bound book. “This tracks the calendar from the fall until now. I can tell you what day it is if I do a few calculations. I’ve accounted for leap years, and haven’t missed a single update, which I do religiously once a month.”
“So, what does this have to do with the guidestone?” Milly said.
“Everything,” Tye said. He pointed at the drawing on the back of the map. “Those rays of light there? What are they?”
“Yes, you’ve got it,” Tester said. “We must be at the final guidestone on September 22nd at noon, and the location of the turtle will be revealed.”
“Climb the mountain that leads to the top of the world when day and night are equal and the bright noon sun will shine upon the final guidestone’s clue,” Ingo said.
“The day is the fall equinox, this year September 22nd, and the mountain leading to the top of the world is Cheaha Mountain,” Tester said.
“But you haven’t foreseen any of this, Ingo?” Peter asked.
“I have yet to see the final guidestone itself, but I’ve glimpsed the path to it many times,” Ingo said.
“Why haven’t you seen it?” Tye said.
“Perhaps Tester’s details are wrong. Or maybe my mind’s eye doesn’t want to see. That has happened before. It hardly matters. I’ve seen Tester’s map in my dreams, and it is truth, so we’ll find out for ourselves soon enough.”
Tye folded the map and gave it back to Tester. “You’re asking us to take a lot on faith,” Tye said.
“You are a man of science. Of progress. I get it. You need evidence. Proof. You will have it. It will be our time again if you have faith this one time. In this story, Heaven is real,” Tester said.
“So says every prophet,” Tye said.
“My father always says Heaven is a place created by people trying to sell you something. Had no clue what he meant until we read sacred text Cat’s Cradle in Foundation,” Peter said. Tye knew Ben Hasten well, and that was the type of thing he would say.
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