CRYERS (13 page)

“At least three more. The boy has
a brother, and there may be an armed adult…a lawman of some kind.”

“And the third?”

Lothair shook his head
dismissively. “Mentally challenged. I’ve dealt with him already.”

Edna turned away from the boy with
an effort and looked at herself in the small mirror above the washroom sink.
Her skin was as white as the uniform she had donned. It was a stark contrast to
the shoulder-length black hair framing her cheeks. Her eyes were pink, like her
great-grandfather’s, and there was a trace of blue in her lips.
Pink eyes, blue lips.
A thousand years
ago, Edna would’ve screamed at the face staring back at her.

“We’re not…
human
anymore, are we?”

“The enhancements,” Lothair said
from behind her. “They’ve brought us back…we’re stronger, smarter…but something
is missing. I’m not sure what it is. A lack of empathy…a void inside.”

Edna nodded. “A lack of everything.
No feelings at all.” She saw the reflection of his face over her shoulder. “Our
souls…they’re gone.”

“We haven’t lost
all
feeling.” Lothair was staring at
Willem. The howler’s blood and sinewy flesh had done little to dull his
appetite. He wanted—he
needed
—more.
The hunger burned in his great-granddaughter’s eyes as well. Her need to
satisfy it would be even greater than his. Lothair would have to let her eat
soon. They had to take care of this lawman, and they had to take care of him
quickly.

Edna wiped the drool away from her
face with the sleeve of her work suit. Lothair guided her out of the washroom,
and away from Willem. There were three cryo-cylinders in the room where he’d
found her. Two were still sealed and running. He looked into the rectangular
glass window of one of them and saw the face of a young girl. She couldn’t have
been much more than fifteen years old when frozen. Lothair peered in closer,
saw a gash in the skin of her forehead. It joined with another running down the
side of her nose.

“My daughter,” Edna said. “Her
name is Jennifer.”

“After my daughter?”

“After my grandmother.”

Neither laughed at the other’s
lineal perspective.

 
“It’s against company policy to store multiple
clients in one cryo-room. At least it was in my time,” Lothair said.

“As it was in mine. But I was in
control of ABZE when Jennifer had her accident.” Edna felt nothing as she
recalled the car crash that had claimed the life of her sixteen-year-old
daughter. “I bent the rules.”

Lothair was now standing in front
of the third cylinder. “Considerably. Who was this?”

“Colonel Michael Strope…Jennifer’s
father. Killed in action during the second Governmental Transition of Egypt in
2063.”

“You were married?”

Edna shook her head. “I detested
him.”

Lothair wanted to point out that
having the man frozen next to her and their daughter was an unusual way to
express detestation, but he had more important matters to take care of first.
“This colonel…killed in action. I take it his military experience was
extensive?”

“He was the most decorated,
fearless warrior of his time.”

Lothair found the cylinder’s
control panel. “Then let us see how he fares against a lawman from the
thirty-first century.”

Chapter 22

“He’s dead.”

“Willem ain’t dead,” the lawman
answered. “We would’ve found his remains. Doesn’t even look like there was any
kind of struggle.” He indicated the bottom drawer of the desk. “See there?
Wasn’t like that when we were in here before. Someone’s forced it open
since—yer brother I’m bettin’.”

“He would’ve come back for me.”

“He more ’n likely tried. Where
was he supposed to look once you’d used the elevator? It’s an awful big place
down here. Lots of floors a little kid could get lost on.”

Cobe knew how his brother thought.
He was smart and resourceful. “He went to Level E if he went anywhere.”

Lawson nodded. “I agree.” He
pulled the small revolver out from the back of his waistband and held it in
front of Cobe. “I expect you’ll be armin’ yerself this time round?”

Cobe took it grudgingly and the
two hurried out of the armory office. They didn’t wait long at the closed
elevator doors. The lawman’s energy had returned fully. He went for the stairs
and Cobe followed, taking them two at a time. They stopped to catch their
breath on the landing of Level T.

Lawson leaned against the metal
rail and gave Cobe a hard look. “I would’ve saved yer mother if I’d known.”

Cobe leaned against the door.
“What?”

“I was here in Big Hole when Lode
and his men took her into custody. I was wandering through different levels,
pokin’ my nose into centuries-old matters that weren’t none of my business,
learning what I could learn, while they strung her up from the tree.”

“You…you didn’t know. You had no
part in her death.” Cobe had to say the words out loud to make his mind believe
it.

“Of course I didn’t. Yer mother
saved my life. I would’ve given it back thankfully a dozen times over to save
hers.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?
Why did you keep on letting me hate you?”

Lawson pushed away from the rail
and resumed climbing stairs. “I would’ve saved her if I could, but that don’t
lessen the blame any. They waited until I was gone.”

“Who waited? What are you talking
about?”

“Lode and his followers. They
waited until I left Burn—waited ’til I went out on one of my ‘patrols.’” He
paused and looked back over his shoulder at Cobe. “Lode knew with me gone from
Burn, he could do whatever he pleased. My stupidity…my ignorance makes me
guilty of yer mother’s death just as much as Lode.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“I ain’t telling you all this so
you’ll forgive me. I ain’t lookin’ for pity. I’m telling you ’cause the truth
needed to be heard, plain and simple, nothin’ more.”

They passed levels S and R without
saying another word. Cobe finally stopped again on the landing of Level P-Q.
His knee had recovered completely, but he was winded and tired. It had been a
long time since any of them had eaten or drunk. “What about my father? You were
there when he swung. Why didn’t you save his life?”

“Elward was beyond saving. He was
a drunk that spoke out too much about things no one was supposed to talk about.
If I’d saved his life that day, he would’ve just ended up in trouble again. If
I’m going to uphold the laws—as shit-dumb as some of them laws might be—I have
to abide by them myself.”

“Pa got drunk and talked about
books—a forbidden thing
you
taught
him. He told folks stories from them books, and what it used to be like a long
time ago. Why does the law make that a crime punishable by death?”

“Like I said, some laws are stupid
as shit, but you have to obey
all
of them
to make society work. It’s true—I taught Elward how to read long before I
became the lawman. Maybe I should’ve swung from the same branch for the wrongs
I done.”

“Maybe you should’ve.”

Lawson lifted his chin
defensively. “And maybe I figured I could make a difference as town lawman.
Maybe I thought a lifetime of doin’ wrong could be made up by carrying a gun
and watchin’ out fer others.”

They started climbing stairs
again.

“You couldn’t have saved our ma
even if you had been there. She broke the law, and when grownups break the law,
they swing.”

“Yer ma broke no law. She spoke
out against Lode and town rule. She offered a different way. Freeda didn’t
deserve to die for that.”

“Is that why you helped me and
Willem escape?” Cobe pulled himself up along the rail behind Lawson. They were
both breathing hard. “Were you trying to make up for what happened to her?”

“There ain’t no law that says you
can’t leave Burn. It’s just so gawdamn awful outside the walls most people
probably
think
it’s forbidden.”

“So why did you set after us? What
you got in mind after we leave this place and travel to Victory Island? We just
gonna live the rest of our days there reading old books and picking our ass—”
Lawson swung and faced him on the landing of Level N.

“Yer parents are dead, and no
amount of guilt will ever bring them back. But what I do now, what I teach you
from here on in…”

“Teach me?”

The lawman was standing in front
of him, his back facing the door. Cobe saw it open and raised the gun before
Lawson could say another word. He pulled the trigger, and the howler’s head
snapped back. It fell forward through the door, knocking the lawman to one side
on its way to the floor.

Lawson pushed it over onto its
back with his boot. There was a little hole between the sockets of its
gouged-out eyes. “Nice shot.”

Cobe stepped back until the wall
stopped him. His legs felt numb. The hand still holding the pistol shook
wildly. “I killed it…I did that… With a gun.”

“You sure did.”

“We’re going to be alright…I
killed the howler. We can find Willem and get out of here.”

“That was the plan.” Lawson
reached out and gently guided Cobe’s arm down so the gun was pointing towards
the floor. “Unfortunately it may be a whole lot harder to do than we thought.”

“I don’t understand…I killed the
gawdamn thing.”

“It ain’t the same howler.” He
pointed at the creature’s legs. “This one has two feet.”

“Then the one that attacked us
before—”

“It’s still hoppin’ around
somewhere on one leg. And if there are two howlers down here with us, chances
are we’ll run into more.” He pushed Cobe towards the stairs, keeping an eye on
the open doorway the howler body was lying in. “Hold that gun steady with both
hands and keep climbing.”

Cobe had no more questions
regarding the lawman’s plans for him and his brother. He didn’t want to know
any more about his relationship with Cobe’s mother and father. All he wanted
was to find Willem and get out of there. He would never climb down into another
hole in the ground for the rest of his life.

They reached E Level five minutes
later. Cobe’s face was dripping with sweat; the gun in his hand felt too heavy.
Lawson opened the door and they stepped quietly into the flashing green
corridor.

***

Trot opened his eyes and called
out feebly. “Hello? Is anyone there?” He was in what felt like the most
comfortable bed he’d ever slept on, looking out through a small window inches
from his face.

The old man with the pink eyes had
thrown him into something hard.

Lothair. His name was Lothair.

Trot had dreamed about the old
man. He was going to eat Trot. Lothair was going to break his bones and eat him
alive.

Trot tried sitting up and his
forehead hit the glass. He attempted to lift his arms but they were stopped by
warm metal. He worked his hands towards his face and scratched at the glass.

“Hello! Somebody please let me
out!” The sound of his voice was too close in his ears. He scratched harder and
cried for help as loud and long as he could.

Nothing.

Trot had known fear and
discomfort. He’d been abandoned by his parents, and beaten by strangers. He had
spent long, cold nights in the back alleys of Burn, sleeping on clumps of
frozen shit and kicking at rats that nibbled on his toes. Trot had always been
afraid that one of those nights might be his last.

This fear was different. It was
close and cramped and choking. If there were rats inside the cylinder with him
he wouldn’t be able to kick them away. If a piece of hard excrement dug into
his back, he’d be unable to shift away from it. His body started to shake, and
Trot screamed. He screamed and thrashed until his throat went raw and every
square inch of his body ached.

A dark shape moved into the light.
Trot wiped the tears from his eyes and saw Lawson looking down at him. There
was a popping sound and more light flooded in from the side. Cool air washed
over Trot’s wet face and he whimpered his thanks to the lawman.

“You’re alright,” Lawson said,
lifting the man out. “What the hell were you doing in there?”

Trot saw Cobe standing next to him
with a gun in his hand. He looked back up at the lawman, and the words flooded
out. “Lothair put me in, he has pink eyes, just like the cat, he wanted to eat
me, I dreamed it but I think parts was real, said he’s been in there since
before I was born.”

Lawson shook his head. “Slow down,
take your time, and answer slowly.”

“Lothair, his name is Lothair. He
has pink eyes.”

“Yes, his name’s Lothair. We got
that from the name on the outside of the door.”

Trot pounded on Lawson’s chest
with the back of his injured hands. “We have to get out of here!
Now!
”

Something made a scraping noise
behind them. They turned and saw Willem standing in the partially opened
doorway.

Cobe started towards him, but
Lawson grabbed a hold of his arm and yanked him back.

“Somethin’ ain’t right.”

Willem staggered in a little
further. They saw powerful white fingers clamped around the back of his neck.
Lawson raised his gun and pointed it at the chest of the big man pushing the
boy forward. His eyes burned orange inside their deep-set sockets. His hair was
short and black. The rest of his muscular upper body was a sickly shade of
greyish-white covered in a confusion of ancient scars and half-healed gouges.
Any other color came from his green pants and heavy-looking brown boots.

“Lower your weapon or I’ll snap
his neck.” The deep voice was surprisingly soft-spoken.

Lawson fired his gun, putting a
fresh gouge into the thing’s shoulder. It fell back out into the hallway. Cobe
wasted no time pushing his brother back out the door. They jumped over the
fallen body and rushed down the corridor. Lawson pushed Trot after them.

“Get to the stairs and work yer
way up. Find the way back out. Don’t wait fer me—just keep on runnin’.”

Lawson watched them disappear into
the adjoining hallway before turning his attention back to the crumpled form at
his feet. He squatted down to its level, the barrel of his gun trained at one
of the glowing orange eyes. This wasn’t a trapped cat. It wasn’t a screaming
howler with six-inch-long fingernails.

This was a man. Or at least it had
been at one time. Lawson had found Big Hole when he wasn’t much older than
Cobe. He’d been exploring its levels for decades, looting what he could from a
people he presumed long dead. This subterranean city had been a part of his
life for so long. He had taught himself how to read from the books found here.
He had learned about an ancient civilization, and he had taken a fraction of
that civility back to Burn with him. Everything in his life he owed to these
people. Now one of them was lying at his feet, bleeding out onto the floor, and
likely dying. And even though he had threatened to kill Willem, Lawson couldn’t
quite bring himself to finish it off just yet. He needed to know more.

“Yer people…this place… Why did
you bury yourselves under here?”

Colonel Strope’s legs exploded
into movement before Lawson could pull the trigger a second time. Muscular
calves closed around the lawman’s neck and started to squeeze. The gun slipped
out of his fingers. He thought he heard the soft-spoken voice begin to answer
his question—something about clawing their way back out of the dirt and
sand—before everything went black.