Under Ivans Knout: The Gospel of Madness (Book 2 of 6) (The Gospel of Madness - (A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller Series))

by Georg Bruckmann

  Then they didn’t say a word about this strange figure but hurried to make the plan come true. The improvised ladder Tommy had just whispered about was built quickly. Mariam insisted that she was the first one to climb the shaky tower of barrels and crates, as Tommy had already experienced this adventure many times before. At first the boy wanted to protest, but he quickly reconsidered and gave in.

  “You must carefully pry out the grille. Go with your knife into the gap between the grille and the frame, until you can grab a corner with your hand. Make sure it doesn’t fall down and makes a noise.”

  The girl nodded upon Tommy’s whispers and started to climb, while Tommy, with the frown of a professional mountaineer, watched every step she took and denied further good advice.

  Arriving at the top, Mariam immediately set to work. She quickly found the gap Tommy had meant, and when she found the place mentioned between the grid and the frame, she realized that she wasn’t the first one to illegally manipulate it. Nevertheless, she had to use a lot of force until she had gotten the metal grid out far enough so she was able to grasp it. When she finally made it without dropping it or falling down from her mad tower, she had to suppress a triumphant outcry. She quickly handed the grille to Tommy and asked for his lamp. The boy cranked a few more times, then he handed Mariam the precious light upwards.

  “You go in and get what you need. I’ll wait here and watch.”

  “In the dark, for instance?”

  “Well, sure. That’s the best way to see if anyone’s coming.”

  He pointed to the blackness of the corridor.

  “When I see the light, I’ll let you know and make sure I get back into the rat corridor. I’ll wait for you there. You must then be quiet and come out quickly and turn off your lamp as soon as possible.”

  Mariam looked doubtfully into Tommy’s face, but since she had no better idea come to her mind, she finally nodded. When she had illuminated the surprisingly large room full of boxes, cupboards and gun racks as well as she could to get an first overview and just wanted to start squeezing through the gap left by the grille, which suddenly somehow seemed to have become much narrower, she paused and whispered:

  “Shh. Tommy, give me back the grille so it doesn’t lie around down here.”

  “Good idea. Here!”

  Mariam carefully placed the piece of metal next to her feet on the box. Then finally she pushed herself, bellied and the boots ahead through the gap in the wall above the door. For a moment she hung at the edge with both hands. The lamp was only a small help to her, because she had put it in a jacket pocket to have her hands free, thus only a faint hint of brightness penetrated outside. Her face painfully bruised against the cold concrete of the wall, then, after some blind searching around with her feet, she managed to place a foot on the metal door handle.

  She got ready and pushed herself back. She was surprised that her landing was reasonably smooth and made little noise. Mariam reached for the lamp again, took it out the pocket and started her thievery.

  Some boxes were almost as big as her and obviously secured with a great amount of nails. She ignored them, because she wouldn’t be able to open them anyway. But that didn’t bother her. There were a large number of smaller crates and containers that could be opened and browsed through without any problems. Everything that she found useful was distributed in several shoulder bags that she and Tommy had brought along.

  The bags filled rapidly.

  Wanda had told her over and over again what was most important: weapons and ammunition for three people, and it was clear which three people Wanda had meant by that. She should also keep her eyes open for food, tools, medicine and such things. There was an abundance of all this in here.

  Nevertheless, Mariam sensed a problem right after the first feeling of euphoria and pride had subsided. She didn’t really know all those things. She could recognize them, but she did not know which of the dangerously glittering bullets belonged to which of the malicious pistols and rifles that were waiting to be used. At first she tried to connect the numbers and strange words embossed on the weapons and the imprints on the ammunition boxes, and she also believed that she did quite well with the pistols, but at some point she had the feeling that it simply took her far too long. Outside Tommy was waiting for her and at any moment redsleeves could come by and do their patrolling. In addition, her nocturnal trip had been so eventful that she couldn’t really tell how much time already had passed. They had to take it all away from here before the first light of the next day and get back to their dormitories without being caught. Her eyes wandered over the bags and the backpack next to her booted feet on the floor. One more she would fill it with ammunition, any ammunition she could get. Four boxes from that shelf, three from over there and six of the little ones from that box. When she was about to start putting her plan into practice, two things happened at the same time.

  First, Mariam noticed that near the door, on the right, where the hinges held the door in place, the floor was littered with shards of glass glistening in the light of the lamp. While her brain was still processing this fact, Tommy’s whispering voice sounded from outside.

  “Mariam, someone’s coming, we have to go!”

  Despite the croaking, pressed manner in which Tommy whispered the words, Mariam could perceive an anxious undertone that immediately propagated into her own subconscious.

  But she wasn’t finished yet!

  Wanda had kept telling her how important this was!

  That otherwise she wouldn’t even send the girl on these little raids - not, if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. That they all had to be ready when the time came. And that the world out there was very dangerous. Wanda didn’t have to tell her that, she had seen that herself. She had seen everything Wanda had seen and she had been beaten almost as often as her.

  No, that wasn’t true.

  Mariam knew very well that she would have been off much worse if Wanda hadn’t protected her so valiantly. Maybe the degs would have cut off her head or arm and then just left her lying there to bleed out or fed her to the dogs, as they had done with so many others.

  The pressure lasting on Mariam at that moment was almost too high. She wanted to do it right, absolutely! She thought feverishly while Tommy’s whispering voice urged her to act from the outside.

  “The light is getting brighter and brighter. They’re coming around the corner. You gotta get out of there!”

  Mariam clenched her hands so tightly that it hurt. She took a step towards the door. One more, then. Then another one. Then she stopped just before reaching the door handle that was to serve her as a step.

  “Mariam! Come on!”

  No, it must not be, it couldn’t end like that. If she wanted to retreat now with Tommy and flee head over heels, she would have to leave all the bags behind to be fast enough. And then the redsleeves would find them. Then they would know someone had been here. And from then on they would guard the room better in the future. She wouldn’t get a second shot on this.

  “Tommy, no! You have to come in, quick!”

  “Are you out of your mind? We gotta get out of here! They are standing on the corner lighting their cigarettes. I can see the flame of the lighter.”

  “Well, so come in now! All they have to do is shine the flashlights in your direction and they’ll see you.”

  “I’m behind the box. They can’t see me.”

  “Yes, but if they come closer and you are forced to run to the rat corridor, they will definitely see you! Come on, come on!”

  A second.

  Two seconds.

  Three seconds.

  Then Mariam finally could hear the dampened sounds Tommy made when he used the improvised stairs. She did not dare to point the full beam of the small lamp at the opening above the door, fearing that the redsleeves could see it, but the residual light of the lamp directed at the floor was enough to let her see that Tommy’s face finally appeared over the door. Then it disappeared for a second and in
stead the grille was visible. Tommy pushed it diagonally through the opening.

  “Catch this damn thing. On the count of three, I’ll drop it!” he whispered.

  Mariam hurriedly took the necessary steps and put the lamp on the floor. She saw the grille fall, grabbed it. Her hand closes, her arm was torn down by the weight and she bit her tongue so as not to shout aloud when the lower edge of the grid collided with her shin just above her boots. Tears came to her eyes, and when the pain had subsided way too slowly, Tommy stood in front of her and took the grid out of her hand.

  “Don’t cry, cry baby. Why did you use only one hand to catch it?”

  Mariam wanted to say something similarly malicious, but she was prevented from doing so by the taste of blood in her mouth.

  “We have to put the grille back in!” Tommy now looked up at the opening.

  “Robberladda!” was all sound Mariam could produce at that moment.

  Mariam stood with one foot on the door handle and one foot in Tommy’s interlocked hands, her upper body leaning against the door and both arms stretched up with the heavy grille in her hands. Both children were sweating. Their breath clouds looked like ghostly fog in the pale light of the lamp. When Mariam carefully pulled back her hands a few centimeters, ready to catch the grille immediately, if it should not stay in place in the opening, neither of them was cold. Then, as soon as Mariam was sure that the damn thing would stay in place, she knocked Tommy briefly on the head and he let her down again, as gently as his powers allowed.

  “We did it.”

  The tiny moment of triumph was ruined by the irregular steps of several people. Frightened, Mariam’s eyes scurried around the room. Tommy immediately understood what made his new girlfriend get so hectic.

  The bags.

  They didn’t belong here.

  They were not allowed to be seen.

  When he grabbed two of them and started carrying them backwards into the corner of the room furthest from the door, he made sure that Mariam could finally free herself from her rigidity. She did as he did and reached out for two more of the stuffed containers. The footsteps were almost there and she could hear shreds from the men’s conversation. A little brightness already fell into the room through the grille.

  There!

  Only a few meters away from the door, in the middle of the floor, stood the fifth bag.

  Fucking crap!

  Mariam carefully put her load down again, hurried as quietly as she could towards the traitor, grabbed it by the strap, after a second of feverish searching found an empty spot on one of the shelves and banished it there. Then she grabbed the lamp. She tried to memorize the path she had to take as quietly and as quickly as possible, recharged the other two bags, turned off the light and walked carefully and anxiously towards Tommy. She took one step at a time without being able to see and died a thousand deaths fearing to bump into something and making a noise. Everything was against her.

  The darkness.

  The rats.

  The time.

  The redsleeves.

  The degenerates.

  The weight of the weapons and ammunition that pulled her arms mercilessly down.

  Outside the door the voices became louder. While she listened and tried to understand what the men were talking about, she carefully took two more steps into the dark. Then she could hear a key being put in the lock of the door. The hinges did squeak, a buzzing could be heard, then the old neon lights on the ceiling of the room began to flicker. At the first flash Mariam realized that she had already put several shelves and large crates between her and the men. The second she saw Tommy a few meters in front of her behind a wooden pallet, on which large bags were stored, peeping out and when one of the men behind her gave off a sudden, barking smoker’s cough, she ran the last, saving meters on tiptoe towards her friend and his hiding place. The children didn’t even want to breathe any more as they listened with concentration to find out what was going on on the other side of the room.

  “Who was on day duty?”

  “I don’t know. What difference does it make? The bums were bored, that’s all.”

  “It’s no reason to build such a stupid tower.”

  “Why not, actually? It’s good to have someone clean up the trash.”

  “Yes, yes. Oh, look, and they got drunk, too.”

  There were clinking and scraping pieces of glass on the floor, Mariam remembered.

  “Those idiots should have tidied that up.”

  The redsleeve had discovered the broken bottle.

  “Glen... what does it say? That’s the good stuff, isn’t it? We’re only gonna get our hands on stuff like this on holidays! I bet they stole it from an officer!”

  “And they haven’t even left anything for us.”

  “All selfish. Say, wasn’t there one more of those big toys last night?”

  Steps. Then the hesitant answer.

  “Yes ... I think so.”

  A drawer in one of the shelves was opened.

  “Bullets are missing too. But not many.”

  Mariam hadn’t opened a drawer. Should she be ... relieved now?

  “How many?”

  “Half of such a box.”

  “What? Half?”

  “Yes. I don’t know what this is all about. But I really don’t want to trade places with this guy when someone catches him.”

  “Do you think we should report this?”

  “We have to. Otherwise the day shift will report it, and then they’ll automatically suspect us.”

  The silence of the men seemed to fill the whole room.

  “This is crazy. What does somebody want with a fucking sniper rifle?”

  “Do some sniping, I guess?”

  “Dumbass ...”

  Mariam was pleased that she had apparently stolen so skilfully that it had not been noticed. Also she hadn’t touched the big guns with the telescopic sights on top. And neither did she take the ammunition in the cabinet. Then she thought of the tall, thin, masked figure that had frightened her and Tommy so much in the rat corridor. Yeah, what does a guy want with a sniper rifle? As if the redsleeve had heard Mariam’s thoughts, he replied to his comrade:

  “I don’t know, you super brain. It doesn’t matter. It is not our problem what someone wants with it, but not to get punished for the mere fact that the gun is missing. We really should go upstairs now and let them know.”

  “Yes, you’re right, I guess.”

  Steps were heard again.

  Finally.

  The redsleeves left the room. When the light was switched off and the door was locked again, Tommy turned his hand out of Mariam’s.

  “Turn on the lamp. Didn’t you hear? They’ll go upstairs and tell their officer. When they come back, all hell will break loose down here.”

  The children waited until the steps and voices of the redsleeves could no longer be heard, then they set out about taking themselves and their loot to safety.

  Wanda

  Wanda looked down on sleeping Mariam for a few minutes. It was still dark and the girl had stayed away for a long time - longer than usual. It had to be just before dawn. Wanda began to look through the contents of the bags that the girl had brought her today and then began to distribute them in countless small hiding places in the tent. Mariam had hidden three more of the bulging containers in other places within the network of tunnels below the camp. Her prowl was a complete success. She had been proud when she came back into the tent dirty, sweaty and completely overtired and scratched. And rightly so. It had not been difficult for Wanda to whisper the praise the girl needed straight into her ear when she held her tight. Mariam deserved it, and Wanda felt at least as much pride as Mariam.

  Now Wanda thought about whether it would be clever to let Mariam gradually bring these other bags into the tent as well, or whether it would be better to plan the escape route now and then let Mariam store her loot in appropriate, tactically more suitable places. Maybe she could get a map of the tunne
ls from Gustav or Shepard? No, it has to be Gustav. Shepard wanted to hibernate here and she didn’t know whether she would be able to stay imprisoned in this damn tent for much longer. Wanda was sure Gustav would understand her. Then she put aside the thought of an early escape and carefully sat down on the lounger where Mariam slept. While stroking Mariam’s head and listening to her calm breaths, she tried to make sense of what the little one had told her about her nightly adventures.

  They found the entrance to the rat corridor at the the end of the last platform. Mariam had heard about that corridor from Tommy, her new friend, and Wanda should remember that. Maybe it would come in handy again sometime. Unfortunately, she had seen almost nothing of the station, the subway platforms and the tunnels herself since Ivan’s men had brought her in. She would have to rely on Mariam if the escape actually would begin. Mariam on the other hand seemed to know most of the ways so well that she would soon be able to walk them blindly, but she did not yet have the great overview that a map could provide. Tomorrow she would ask the girl not to go on a raid but to let Tommy show her possible ways out of the camp.

  Her gaze wandered to the pile of children books Gustav had brought them. She had read some of them herself in order to kill some time and to distract herself from her eternal, always similar, piercing thoughts. From her point of view, Tommy very well could have them all for his services, but maybe Gustav shouldn’t notice the stack shrinking steadily. He would ask and he would certainly not agree to her having Mariam roam and plunder the camp at night.

  Wanda’s feeling told her that it would soon be the time for the doctor’s morning visit again. She rose carefully and went over to her own lounger. As quietly as she could, she pulled the vest for Shepard out of her hiding place and looked at her work. Here and there one or two bags had to be added, then the garment would offer him as much security as was possible under these circumstances. In the two shoulder bags that Mariam had dragged into the tent there were some pistols, two small revolvers and ammunition. No spare magazines however, which would make it very cumbersome to reload the pistols once the first magazine had been emptied.