Beyond These Walls (Book 6): Three Days

by Robertson, Michael

  One of the lead nomads turned to those behind him and cupped his mouth to amplify his voice. “Swarm!”

  “Oh shit,” Beatrice said.

  For the first time since William had met her, the smug sneer fell from her face.

  Chapter 29

  The cold water reached Olga’s chest, her tight bonds restricting her violent shivering. Her mouth still gagged with the rancid sock, she dragged desperate breaths in through her nose.

  A surge ran through the water. A solitary wave, it lowered the level, dropping it to Olga’s abdomen. Another surge, it dropped to her waist. Matilda had gone into a trance, her eyes unfocused and her lips pursed as she stared straight ahead.

  Barp!

  The water level dropped in stages, falling to just a few feet from the floor. The splash of steps outside hailed a visitor. A woman entered the room. Surgical in her approach, she removed the sock from Olga’s mouth like a disinterested nurse pulling an old bandage off a wound far too insubstantial to be wasting her time with.

  Olga’s jaw trembled and she drew stuttered breaths.

  “Do you give yourself over to Grandfather Jacks?”

  Before Olga could get her words out, the woman tutted, her brow pinching. “You hesitated.”

  “W-w-w-wait,” Olga said. “I’m cold. I’m t-t-trying to catch—”

  “You. Hesitated.” The woman shoved the sock back into Olga’s mouth as if she wanted to break her teeth.

  Barp!

  Although Olga screamed, snot shooting from her nose, the woman had already turned her back and left the room. She hadn’t even bothered to ask Matilda. Maybe they’d identified Olga as the one who needed to be broken. If only they’d given her a chance to tell them. She was ready. She’d do whatever they wanted.

  The rushing sound of water filled the room again and the level slowly rose.

  Matilda—strapped to her trolley the entire time—remained calm but distant. Wherever she’d gone, she’d left the room. If only Olga could go with her. Her straps restricting her trembling form, she fought to get a handle on her stuttering breaths. Her lungs were tight from where her nose failed to sate her need for oxygen. If only she could find even a shred of Matilda’s calm.

  Chapter 30

  Collette showed the boys where she wanted them by motioning with the tip of her spear. “Get on that lump of steel over there.” She then called to the group watching the swarm, “How long?”

  A slim man stood at the front of the pack, his hair tied in a ponytail. He shielded his brow from the sun. “Two minutes at the most.”

  “I need rope.” While one of the nomads ran off in response to Collette’s request, Serj and Beatrice helped her shepherd the boys towards the lump of steel she’d set her sights on. “Now get on it.”

  Even with the distractions and many of the nomads readying for the oncoming swarm, the boys would get taken down in seconds if they fought back now. They climbed on the steel, William the last of the four to get on the large rock. About eight feet from the ground, the wide top of the steel lump had a plateau of about ten to fifteen feet square.

  Collette, Serj, and Beatrice followed them up, Collette red-faced when she said, “You should be grateful we’re showing you kindness.” The nomad who’d run off at her request returned with a length of rope and handed it to her before moving off to join the pack watching the oncoming horde. Collette walked it around the boys before jumping down to the ground. Serj followed her while Beatrice tied the knot, biting down on her bottom lip with the effort of pulling it tight.

  “Where are you going?” Cyrus said, his voice wavering. Whining.

  Beatrice shoved him, and all four of the boys had to fight to maintain their balance. “Don’t you worry about where we’re going,” she said, “just make sure you don’t fall when the swarm arrive.”

  Cyrus squirmed where he stood. “But please. You can’t leave us here.”

  “You’re lucky we’re leaving you here and not on the ground,” Serj said. “Now wind your neck in.”

  But Cyrus didn’t listen, his eyes glistening with the sheen of tears. He twisted and turned. “We’re going to die out here.”

  “One minute,” the slim nomad at the front of the pack called.

  Beatrice tugged Jezebel from William’s grip, the war hammer from Max’s, Cyrus’ sword, and Artan’s knife and spears. She threw them into the long grass. “You can get them back when the swarm have passed.”

  “Come on,” Cyrus whined. “Just let us go!”

  The pitch of Cyrus’ voice twisted tension through William’s back. But Max spoke before he could. “Cyrus, if you don’t shut the hell up, I’m going to drag all of us off this damn rock just so I don’t have to listen to you anymore.”

  “Thirty seconds,” the lookout shouted.

  Collette and Serj ran towards a slimmer and shinier piece of steel nearby. It looked too narrow to stand on.

  “Twenty seconds.”

  Beatrice reached into William’s pocket and pulled out the hummingbird hair clip. “I wondered what this was.”

  “Give it back.”

  “Fifteen seconds.”

  Beatrice turned the clip over in her hands. “I like it.”

  “But you have no hair.”

  “Don’t be so discriminatory.” Beatrice jumped from the lump of steel and chased after the others. As she closed down on the slim and shiny rock, Serj shoved it over, revealing a hatch beneath. He kicked it open, revealing a tunnel he vanished into, the others following.

  Half of the nomads had disappeared underground by the time the swarm’s front runners appeared. Already hundreds of them, they were clumsy as they charged at a flat-out sprint.

  “My god,” Artan said. “And I thought Edin was bad.”

  The diseased screamed as if in an open challenge to the gods.

  The hatch slammed shut as the one who’d given them a countdown on the approaching pack vanished into the hole.

  “What do we do?” Cyrus said.

  “Hold your ground.” Artan shook his head. “They can’t get to us up here. It’s not like we haven’t seen swarms of them before.”

  “Yeah,” Cyrus said, “but not as many as this.”

  “Get a backbone, Cyrus,” Max said. “Your whining’s doing my head in.”

  They might not have been able to reach them, but it didn’t prevent the diseased from slamming into the steel rock, shaking the wide lump. The vibrations ran through the soles of William’s feet. More and more diseased appeared. There were thousands of them like Collette and Serj had said. Thousands upon thousands.

  Cyrus shook so violently, it wobbled them all.

  “Why were you begging them?” Max said. “What did you hope to achieve?”

  After several rounds of damn near hyperventilation, Cyrus twisted his body and the rope fell loose, landing on the steel at their feet. He still shook, his voice wavering as he stared at his hands. “I was wedging my fingers in the rope so I could untie the knots when they left us. They had limited time, and I thought I could distract them so they didn’t notice what I was doing with my hands.” He dropped down and sat cross-legged. He pressed his palms against the solid steel surface. He squinted as he looked up at Max. “It’s over to you now.”

  Chapter 31

  “You poor, poor thing.” The woman yanked the sock from Olga’s mouth. She might have had kind words, but everything else about her screamed fury. At least six feet tall and as broad as any man Olga had met, she held herself with a locked tension as if it took all her strength to contain her rage.

  The guard’s old sock as soaked as the rest of her, Olga’s tongue ached from where she’d pushed against the fabric of it to prevent herself choking. She’d swallowed more water filtered through it than she cared to think about. How long had the guard worn it before putting it in her mouth?

  Someone stepped from around the larger woman and Olga gasped. “Heidi?”

  The black-haired girl smiled. “We’ve come to get you out
of here. I’ve assured them you’re ready to meet Grandfather Jacks. That you’re ready to join us in the ceremony tomorrow.”

  Olga nodded. “I am.”

  The woman who’d removed the gag said, “I’m not sure she is. She just hesitated.”

  “I didn’t,” Olga shouted.

  A slight raise of her left eyebrow, the tone of the woman’s voice dropped. “Watch yourself, girl.”

  “But I didn’t hesitate.”

  Heidi stroked the woman’s large arm. “She didn’t.” And then to Olga, “We’re going to get both of you out of here. We’re going to get you somewhere you can rest up so you’re ready for tomorrow. I’m afraid we need to blindfold you.”

  Olga’s heart quickened. “Why?”

  “It’s for your own good. There are things down here you don’t want to see.”

  Matilda watched on, her lips pursed. The clarity had returned to her gaze.

  The large woman discarded the old sock and pressed a blindfold across Olga’s eyes. She snapped the knot at the back tight, but Olga stifled her cry. This woman seemed desperate for an excuse to lose her temper.

  Olga tracked the two women by their footsteps as they crossed the room to Matilda. If the tying of the blindfold hurt her friend, she couldn’t tell.

  More steps entered the room. Olga’s heart skipped when her trolley tilted back on its wheels.

  Both being in a basement room and the sound of rushing water had muted the tone, but now they were out in the corridor, the bone-shuddering barp called as loud as ever.

  A squeaky wheel on her trolley, everything aching, Olga pressed her tired eyes tightly shut, the forward motion and wobble going some small way towards easing her anxiety. At least they were going to get out of that damn room.

  They came to a halt after several twists and turns. The large woman said, “Thank you, Heidi.”

  “Praise be to the High Father,” Heidi said.

  “Praise be.”

  Olga said, “Where’s she going?”

  The woman smelled of leather and dirt when she leaned close. She spoke in a low growl. “Never you mind.”

  They set off again. Where they were heading uphill before, they now travelled downhill.

  “Where are you taking us?” Olga said. “Matilda, can you see?”

  “No,” Matilda said.

  “Where are you taking us?”

  They stopped again. Footsteps left the room. The large woman leaned close, sniffing Olga. “I love the smell of someone about to break. Someone who’s soon to be pure enough to give themselves over to Grandfather Jacks. It reminds me of fresh rain on a summer’s morning.”

  Rushing water entered the room.

  Adrenaline drove Olga’s words. “I’m pure enough now. I am. I’m ready. Please, I’m ready.”

  One more deep sniff, the woman said, “You hesitated.” Her feet sloshed as she left the room.

  Chapter 32

  No matter how many times William had watched him do it, when Max dropped into the diseased crowd—especially a crowd as large as this—his heart accelerated.

  Max shoved several diseased aside, clearing a space so he could retrieve their weapons. He first threw Jezebel up onto the steel rock and then Cyrus’ sword before passing Artan his spear and knife. The diseased paid him no mind, their blood red eyes glistening in the fading light, their jaws working, chewing the air.

  His war hammer over his shoulder, Max barged a path through the monsters. He shoved and pushed his way past, sending many of them stumbling away from him. Like he’d done with the weapons, he cleared a space around the hatch the nomads had vanished into. Yelling, he brought his hammer over and slammed it against the steel door of the nomads’ shelter. It let out a loud hollow tonk! The door buckled from the first blow.

  “They must have it locked from the inside,” Cyrus said.

  Max drove another swing at it. Another loud tonk!

  After his third attack on the door, Max reached down, pulling on a raised lip of the now buckled steel. A hand appeared from inside and Max quickly withdrew. The tip of a spear poked out next.

  Max drove yet another blow against the doors, catching the end of the spear and snapping it clean off. He threw several more attacks, yelling louder than the diseased around him. Every blow buckled the steel barrier until he had enough of a lip to grab with both hands, setting his war hammer down in the process. He tore the door free and tossed it aside before retrieving his weapon.

  Collette raised her head above the hole.

  Max sank his hammer into her with a stomach-tightening crunch! He then jumped aside, allowing the diseased at his back to flood into the bunker.

  The yells and cries of the soon to be diseased joined the already turned. Beatrice managed to poke her bald head from the hole before another surge of the vile creatures forced her back in. William smiled. “I bet she tastes bitter.”

  The reek of vinegar and rot curdled the air around them. William dragged in a deep breath before cupping his mouth with his hands. “Max, come back now.”

  But Max remained in front of the bunker as more and more diseased streamed in.

  The nomads’ cries died down. The diseased rush slowed. Many of them remained in the bunker, but those outside lost interest.

  Cyrus sighed. “Do you think they’re all gone?”

  “I hope so,” Artan said. And then he added, “What the hell’s Max doing now? Max?”

  But Max stared into the tunnel for a few seconds before shoving the diseased aside and climbing down into the hole.

  William screwed up his face. “What the hell is he doing? I bet it stinks down there.”

  “Do you think he’s finally lost it?” Artan said. “Those nomads might have been arseholes, but it can’t have been easy to watch them die up close. What do you think, Cyrus? You’ve talked to him more than any of us.”

  “Hardly though,” Cyrus said. “Although, he’s clearly not been the same since Olga.”

  “We’ll find the girls,” Artan said. “He’ll be able to make it up to her.”

  Cyrus nodded while holding his bottom lip in a pinch, his focus on the tunnel Max had descended into. “We will. And we know much more now than we did before. We know for sure the girls are with Grandfather Jacks. And we know the community is close. We’ll get to them.”

  William spoke through a clenched jaw. “And we’ll make Grandfather Jacks pay.”

  After a few minutes, Max emerged from the pit. He kept a tight grip on his war hammer, his entire body glistening with the blood and ooze of the diseased. His short hair matted with their mess, he walked with a weary slump, the red sky from the setting sun at his back.

  The whites along the bottom of Max’s eyes stood out as thick bands on his drawn face, his cheeks sallow, his skin pale. Had he finally lost the plot?

  Max reached to William for a hand up, and for the briefest moment William hesitated. Artan then wrapped his arms around William’s waist, anchoring him so he could pull Max onto the steel rock.

  “Why did you go—” William noticed the hummingbird clip in Max’s right hand. “You went down there for that?”

  “It matters.”

  “It—” The words caught in William’s throat and he nodded several times. “It does. Thank you.”

  “Welcome.” Max sat beside Artan. “Besides, we have some time to kill, so why wouldn’t I go down there?”

  Both William and Artan sat down out of sight of the diseased. The fading light gave prominence to the glowing community on the horizon.

  “It looks like we have quite a wait,” Artan said. “But I suppose travelling at night is foolish anyway. Hopefully they’ll be gone by the morning.”

  William lay down and held his left hand behind the back of his head. The hard surface offered little comfort, but at least the cold ran through his fingers rather than his skull. He turned the hummingbird clip over in his right hand. “I remember when Mum gave this to Matilda. National service felt like a big deal back then. Like
our lives were finally starting. Who could have known it would prove to be so insignificant? Who could have known how many people we’d lose in such a short time?”

  “I was expecting Matilda to breeze through it, come home, and get Mum and me somewhere safe,” Artan said.

  Cyrus said, “I expected to return to Woodwork to be with my nan. I thought she’d outlive everyone.” He snorted a laugh. “Maybe she has. Maybe she’s killing the diseased in Edin one at a time as she takes back her home.”

  “She sounds like someone we could do with now,” William said.

  Cyrus nodded. “She’d have Grandfather Jacks’ head on a spike.”

  William growled, “So will I.”

  “I didn’t expect a future when I left,” Max said. “I thought our family’s luck on national service had run out. I think I knew I wouldn’t ever see my brothers again. But I thought that’s because I’d be the one to die, not them. They were invincible.”

  Now they’d hidden from the creatures’ line of sight, the moans and cries from the diseased had already died down. But they had a long wait before they could get off the rock. His body aching all over, the fingers in his left hand numb and cold, William let his head rest against the steel as he shoved his hands down his pants to warm them up. His whole body relaxing, his cheeks puffed out when he exhaled. “So much has changed in such a short time.”

  Chapter 33

  Olga’s clothes clung to her, her bones frigid from being submerged for a second time. She shivered as they wheeled her and Matilda into Grandfather Jacks’ palace, the wind between the two buildings cutting into her, the morning sun burning her eyes. All the double doors opened before them, a gap parting down the centre, powered by an unseen force. Maybe electricity like Dianna had said. Who knew? Who cared?

  A man pushed Olga’s trolly while a woman steered Matilda. They wheeled them into the room they’d been in the previous day. Wooden pews on either side, the aisle led to an altar surrounded by cages. Heidi and the girl with the mousy-brown hair waited in one each. Heidi leaned against the bars containing her as if she’d collapse if she didn’t have them for support. Had they brought her straight back here after she’d visited Olga and Matilda last night? The girl with mousy-brown hair stood spear straight in spite of her clearly broken ankle.