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“Over there. That’s where I got out. There, behind the big box” said Safrine directing The Woman to the containers at the end of the field.
The Woman was exhausted, but adrenaline kept her feet running and her mind alert. She could hear the pounding against the outer walls and the screams filling the air and it willed her on pushing her further as he feet sunk into the sludgy soil; she, trudging step by step, the eternity it seemed from where she was to where she needed to be; beyond the field, behind the containers where a tiny tear in the chain link fence would take them out of The Nest and on to some kind of freedom.
Her legs gave way and she fell to the dirt falling over Safrine who was crippled in her arms. The two collapsed in the mud only fifty meters from their escape while behind them, chaos ensued.
The crack in the outer wall started as a small pressure burst; a tiny black line near the entry to the foyer, but in seconds the rear of the wave caught up with the crest and an incredible force pushed forward.
Hundreds of thousands of hands launching forward into hundreds of thousands of backs; the crest of the wave crushing under the impact; the sound of suffocation and breaking bones echoing through the complex, sending a shrill of absolute fear through the White Hearts and generals rushing through the complex to board the vessel.
“It’s gonna break” screamed a voice from near the foyer.
The White Hearts standing guard dropped their weapons and ran towards At War where a hundred men dragging on a hundred cables were pulling a monumental metallic machine into the morning light.
The sun shone down marvellously and even in the height of the fury, looking up and seeing a blue sky was the kind of bliss worth abandoning one’s freedom for. Most of the younger White Hearts had never seen a blue sky. All they knew of was a cold grey August morning; as it was when the lights dimmed, as it had been when they were taken in by The Collective and fostered for this very moment.
The wall broke and thousands of bodies fell flat on the ground while thousands more spilled over the top, crawling and clawing their way into the foyer and bursting through the main doors of the complex into the courtyard where White Hearts tripped over one another trying to find some direction; their stomachs sitting in their mouths, their legs trembling, being nothing like a fist.
The Woman dragged her body from the dirt and wiped the mud from her eyes. The fence was just a short run away. She took the girl’s hands in her own and started her run, dragging the girl behind her like a sled. They made the last fifty meters in no time and she dropped the girl to tear the hole in the fence wider to be able to push her through.
The sound of screaming and breaking in the background felt like it was right at their feet. The Woman clawed at the chain link fence, screaming to the blue sky as she tore upwards. Her blood boiled, the energy in her veins was pure rage and preservation.
In her mind, she envisioned her lover lying dead on a table. She filled with anger once more screaming ‘It’s not fair’ into the morning air, tearing her fingers and throwing herself backwards as the fence bent and warped under the focus of her will but not enough to allow her to sneak through.
She could only fit the small paralysed girl, pushing her tiny frame through the gap in the fence to the other side; and then what?
She sat on one side of the fence in tears while the girl lay still on the other and in the distance, becoming increasingly less distant, chaos reigned down on the people she had been using to learn how to love.
She rested her hand on the girl’s foot which still dangled through the chain link fence and settled into the dirt in absolute defeat. As black smoke crawled up into the blue sky a giant hand reached down ripping her from the fence and dropping her body a meter from the girl’s foot.
The Woman screamed.
The hand grabbed at the loose chain link fence hanging freely over the fraught girl’s paralysed foot and ripped it up and back shredding the links like dried leaves. The hand reached out to The Woman with an open palm. She looked behind and saw nothing but her own fright.
She had no choice.
She took the open hand and was lifted from the muddy ground and was one her feet running through an open field; her left hand being pulled by The Behemoth and the paralysed girl secure on his shoulder.
“Brace yourselves men” yelled a general from aboard the vessel.
The wave pushed through the courtyard and along the paths that led to the four states of Collective being. The hounds moved first, through the corridors and into the dormitories where The Collective slept, deeply, at complete disconnection. The dogs rushed upon the sleeping bodies gnawing and tearing with their sharp teeth.
They were followed by thousands of Famined who entered the dorms and tore everything to pieces, filling the space and bursting straight through the walls and continuing their destruction through the complex to At War where the wave rushed upon a giant metallic vessel; the force of the impact propelling it forward.
The impact threw him from his seat and sent him crashing to the floor. The War General steadied himself and returned to his feet looking out from one of the windows high in the vessel where below him, the great metallic beast gained momentum rushing down through the complex smashing against and then through objects of all dimension and small buildings and people aligning the complex.
The wave of humans that had thrust into the vessel continued to flow but far from their reach, falling over and fighting one another but following intently, the vessel’s direction and momentum.
In the lower quadrants of the vessel, hundreds of men attended pedals chanting and screaming as they pushed their legs forward, their hands gripping the railings beside them, their faces burning red, their state of mind, one while a general on the main decking directed the vessel turning wheels and pulling on levers.
While the White Hearts cheered and jeered in panicked celebration; in his chair, The War General sat holding a black device in his hand, sombre, assuming his command and watching a red light flickering faster as their vessel made its way under the open blue sky; its mast pulled high into the air to feed off the morning’s breeze and to rest the men’s tiresome legs after the initial sprint.
The vessel pushed through the complex with the force of a god parting the skies ripping apart the outer wall on the north east quadrant, losing no momentum, heading through a grass range, trampling houses and people in motion; on the trail of Eve, the Black Heart.
“What do we do?” said The Woman panicking.
“Let me think,” said The Behemoth. “We’re on our own. The generals are following the boy. We have to find him first” he said.
“What boy?” she asked desperately.
“My brother, will they hurt him?” said Safrine, waking from her frozen state.
“Can you move your legs? Can you walk?” demanded The Behemoth.
“No. Will I soon?” she said.
“The drugs will wear off. We need to find your brother. He is with your father, they’re going to the boat. We need to find them, to help them. Do you understand? If the generals find your brother, they are going to hurt him. You need to focus Safrine. Will you save your brother?” he asked.
Safrine looked at The Woman wanting some sign of assurance and then back at The Behemoth looking at her like a father would to his child.
“Trust me,” he said, as the three started their search for Donal.
“Let’s go, down there, we have no choice,” said Eve pointing to the Metro entrance; its innards completely blackened, the dim sonance of low growling sat just above the broken tiles that piled up behind the boarded up doorway.
Donal nodded, knowing too well that he needed to follow the girl to survive; to find his father; to find his sister. He lifted his broken body and ran towards the boards with his leg kicked; outstretched.
His leg hit the boards and the shock shot through his body and he collapsed on the floor. Eve smiled kindly at the boy on the floor and then took the boards with her ha
nds, tearing them off the walls like peeling a banana.
“Come,” she said offering her hand.
“What about the hounds?” he asked distrait.
“Trust me,” she said.
“What choice do I have?” he thought.
Eve, Donal and Ruff dived through the doorway and entered the subway, heading down below The City where the dogs ruled; on their way to New Utopia.
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“His skin is so firm. Look at the contours of that face.”
“Oh, it will do for weeks, maybe months.”
“It’s mine.”
“No you silly billy. You’ll stretch it out. This one’s mine.”
“We should tell the others. We could get in trouble.”
“Shut up. Don’t be so weak. I found it. It’s my face. I deserve it. Besides it will look more beautiful on me, don’t you think?”
“Can I wear it, just for a bit?”
“No!! It’s my face. But I will let you borrow this one here when I’m done with it, but you have to promise to look after it. It has such a pretty smile. I don’t want you stretching it out.”
“I promise. I’ll look after it, I will, I will. Are you going to cut him now? Can I help?”
“Just hold his arms, in case he wakes; this one looks strong.”
“Ok ok. This is so exciting. What will you tell the others?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well when you come back wearing this face, what will you tell the others? I mean you left this morning as a girl and you come back as a man, it’s a bit suspicious. They’re going to know you cut without permission. We’ll get in trouble.”
“You let me worry about the elders, just hold his arms. Where is the scalpel?”
“I thought you had it.”
“No, I gave it to you. I specifically told you to keep the scalpel in your sheath when we came down the hill. You know how my hip plays up on inclines.”
“Oh, here it is.”
The Fat Old Lady wearing a young girl’s face leaned down with a shiny silver scalpel in her hand edging ever closer to the sharp jaw line of Marcos’ face.
As the blade touched the cold white skin, his eyes opened and the old hag shrieked, throwing the scalpel back behind her so that it sank into the impervious mud of the river bed.
END 0F B00K 1
husband, father, son, brother, philosopher, story teller, teacher, recluse
Also by C. Sean McGee:
A Rising Fall (CITY b00k 001)
Utopian Circus (CITY b00k 011)
Heaven is Full of Arseholes
Coffee and Sugar
Christine
Rock Book Volume I: The Boy from the County Hell
Rock Book Volume II: Dark Side of the Moon
Alex and The Gruff (a tale of horror)
The Terror{blist}
The Anarchist (or how everything I own is covered in a fine red dust)
Happy People Live Here
The Time Traveler’s Wife
StalkerWindows:
BedroomWindow
BathroomWindow
LibraryWindow
The Free Art Collection ©2013
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