Pilgrimage (26 page)

He didn't notice that Mal was at the door until the lights came on. Mal looked down at him the same way he had when they first met. He looked like he wanted to cry for him. Roland hated him for that. But he still wished Mal would cry. He wished he had at least one person who cried for him.

Chapter 16

Griffith woke up shaking violently and smacking his head on the window.

“Ow!”

“Why the hell are we stopped in the middle of the road!” Caia demanded.

“The car stopped!” Griffith checked his head for bruising. “I think we ran out of petrol. And we're not in the middle of the road, we're on the side of the road.”

“We're lucky we weren't hit by another car in the middle of the night.”

“They would have seen us. We're hardly on the road.” His head was clear of bruises. Griffith opened the door and stepped out of the car, breathing deep the cold, damp morning air. Caia followed his lead out the passenger door.

“Where are we?”

“That's Warialda, there.” Griffith retrieved his backpack from the car and found the map. He wiped the dew off the roof of the car with his sleeve and unfolded his map. “Which means we're a couple of hundred kilometres from Salem. Oh! I just remembered what was so important about Inverell.”

“What is it?”

“We're off the Tablelands. We're not just half way there; we're officially out of Pentdragon's territory. His law no longer applies.”

“His law never applied. His law is bullshit. But at least we've put some distance between us and him.”

“Everything works out in the end.” Griffith folded up the map and slipped it into his bag. “Let's go get breakfast.” Griffith rounded the car, checking to see how close to the middle of the road he'd parked. Closer than he thought. A lot closer. He remembered getting to the side of the road but it looked like he'd been heading towards the wrong side. He said nothing and left the car there.

Warialda was still asleep when they arrived; only the bakery and service station were open for business. Griffith and Caia wandered from one side to the other and then back again, looking for what Caia insisted was a
proper breakfast
.

“I've lived off the land and I've had dead camper's scraps for breakfast, before. This might be a sad, tiny little town but it's a town with people and we're going to get a proper breakfast while we can,” she said in no uncertain terms. Griffith conceded. They eventually found a cafe opening its doors and starting business for the day. It was the only cafe open and it smelled of bacon. That made it a winner.

They ate quickly. Griffith pored over his map between bites and Caia tore into her breakfast roll like a cheetah into a gazelle.

“All right, I guess this was a good idea.” Griffith said after finishing his breakfast.

Caia kept eating. Griffith waited for her to talk but she wasn't interested.

“I probably would have skipped eating altogether if you hadn't made the decision for me.”

“That would be stupid.” Caia answered, before stuffing the last of her meal into her mouth. She didn't have anything else to add. Griffith wiped his mouth and stood up.

They left the cafe and followed the highway. They'd gained some distance now and left Lloyd in their dust. If he and Pentdragon were still on their trail, they'd have some catching up to do. The pilgrimage would continue on foot.

The town of Warilda began to wake up and the people started coming out of their homes just as Caia and Griffith put it all behind them and set their sights on the long, barren countryside. Rows of evergreens lined the road on both sides, separating the asphalt from the khaki coloured land and obscuring the horizon. A road sign marked:
Gravesend 25
.

“Do you think it's Grave Send or Grave's End?” Griffith asked.

“I don't know. Either way, it's not a town I'd like to live in. There's no good in the fate of a name like that.”

“If you say so.”

The Gwydir Highway ran through thinly spread trees and curved south of Warialda through more farmland as it snaked westwards before bending north again. Caia powered forward ahead of Griffith, slowing only to let him catch up before picking up the pace and leaving him lagging behind.

As evening set in, Gravesend appeared like all small country towns do – The highest roofs appeared over the tree line as the highway bent towards it. What seemed like it might have been a trick of the light suddenly became a tiny collection of houses with wide front yards. Near the centre of it all, an unnamed weatherboard pub advertising the main attractions of beer and an ATM.

But the town was wrong. Griffith noticed it as soon as they passed the pub. He slowed to a stop outside a red brick house with drawn curtains over every window. The street lights had come on but there wasn't a single light on inside or outside the houses. Cars sat in driveways and on the side of the road but not one had a person driving it.

“There's nobody here,” Griffith said.

“There are people here.”

“How can you tell? Can you smell them or something?”

“Yes.” Caia started towards the door of the brick house. “There are definitely people here somewhere.”

“Oh, you can smell them.” Griffith shrugged. Of course she could smell them. He felt stupid for even asking. Why wouldn't the animal woman be able to smell them?

Caia rapped her knuckles on the door. No answer.

“What are you doing?” Griffith asked.

“Knocking,” Caia answered.

“Well, nobody's home.”

“There's definitely somebody there.” Caia beat her fist on the door. Silence followed. Caia turned the door knob, pushed and the door swung open. Griffith grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.

“You can't just walk in there.”

“Of course I can. Let go.” Caia peered through the open doorway.

He let go. “No you can't!”

“Don't you want to know what's going on?”

“Of course, but that's no reason to start breaking and entering.”

“Nothing broken.” Caia walked through the door and called out: “Hello! Are you home?”

“Fine, you go through and look. I'm going to try to find some answers down the street.” Griffith left her and made his way back to the road.

Caia let him go and went further into the house. Why was Griffith so hung up about going into people's houses? If there was anybody there to complain, she'd just leave. It wasn't as if she was there to kill them. She didn't do that any more.

Somewhere towards the back of the house she could hear low voices. She followed the sound through the kitchen and past the master bedroom. She tracked them to a living room at the back of the house. A television showed a DVD menu screen, looping the same clips from the film. Now that she was at the door to the living room she could hear soft snoring. The presumed man of the house reclined in his chain in front of the TV, eyes closed and mouth open. Caia stood for a minute, deciding what to do. He was a heavy sleeper but there was nothing unusual about that. But there was
something
eerie and unusual about Gravesend. She approached the sleeping man and prodded him with a finger. He kept sleeping. Caia slapped him across the face and he rolled away, nearly dropping out of his chair. He kept sleeping. Trying one more time, she put her foot on the arm of the chair and kicked it over. Man and chair flipped and fell to the floor and he went on sleeping like the dead.

“Ah, shit,” Caia muttered and started running back for the door.

Griffith tapped on the window of a dress shop. Beyond the display pieces, he could see a woman slumped over some books on the counter. She either didn't hear him or didn't want to hear him but he wasn't going to get anything from her. Griffith tried the pub across the road from the dress shop. The lights were on and the open sign hung on the door but there was no sound from inside He expected the roar of chattering crowds muffled by hard rock to explode from inside as soon as he opened the door; instead, he opened the door to more silence. He followed the empty sound to the bar and finally he found the crowds of people he was looking for. The pub was busy with men and women, sleeping in their chairs or spread out across the floor. He could hear the collected sound of their heavy breathing but that was the only sign that any of them were alive. He shook one, tapped another and even tipped a beer over one man's head. Nobody stirred. A waitress on the floor still held an empty bowl, chips scattered over the floor in front of her. Griffith picked up a chip; it was cold. Not uncooked, just cold.

He crossed the room and, feeling a little more daring than normal, explored behind the bar. The bar staff were collapsed on top of each other on the floor in a pool of beer. Two of the taps had been pulled but no beer flowed. Griffith stepped around them into the kitchen, then into the office beyond that. The scene was the same in every room: What people he could find in Gravesend were in a deep, unshakable slumber. He fled back to the street. There, he spotted Caia, further down the street, calling for him.

“Over here!” He answered.

Caia ran to meet him. “Did you find them?”

“The pub is full of people asleep.”

“The house was the same. This isn't normal. We need to get out of here.”

“We can't go, yet. We have to help them! Plus, if we leave now we'll be out in the middle of nowhere all night. Who knows what will happen to us?”

“I trust out there more than I trust here. Whatever put them to sleep might put us to sleep next.” Caia stood light on her feet, shifting, ready to start running.

“Caia, we have to do something. This has got to be magic and, if it's magic, we can reverse it.”

“Not if we're put to sleep, too. We don't know what's doing this or how the spell works. We can't fight it. Not now.”

“Are you tired?” Griffith asked.

“No.” Caia breathed deep and settled. “No, I'm fine. You?”

“I'm okay. I've got lots of energy. So whatever is doing this hasn't hit us – yet. We have some time to look around, then.”

“Griffith, this is reckless. Didn't you say there was no more getting side-tracked until you reached Salem?”

“I said that to placate Roland. He's not here, and if he was, even he would want to help these people.”

“No, he wouldn't.”

“Yes, he would. He'd want to do something about this. I know he would. I promise we'll leave at the first sign that we might fall asleep. Until then, we have to do something.”

“All right.” Caia sighed. “I told you there was nothing good fated for this town.”

“Maybe there is. Maybe we're the good in this town's fate.”

Caia thought on that a moment. “We'll do it your way while we can.”

“Thank you, Caia.”

“Let's split up and explore both ends of the town. See if there's anybody at all that's still awake. We'll meet back here in half an—”

Church bells sounded from the west side of Gravesend. The deep, vaguely musical tone echoed all around them and drew their gaze towards the church tower that rose above everything else in the little town.

“I think we should start there.” Griffith suggested. Caia nodded and started running. Griffith followed as close as he could.

A black, finned Cadillac hearse sat by the church doors. Griffith and Caia approached the charcoal coloured, flat-stone chapel with caution. Now that the bell was still, silence pervaded the town. Then, as if he was stepping out of a nightmare, Lloyd stepped out of the church and looked straight at Griffith. Griffith's heart sunk into his stomach.

“It's not possible.”

“He really doesn't give up.” Caia stepped forward, covering Griffith.

“We should leave.”

“I'm so glad you came.” Lloyd called. He continued to close the gap. “This seemed like the best place to end it. I've made all the arrangements.”

“What do you mean?” Griffith asked.

“I have prepared the church for the funeral. The entire town is asleep, so nobody can disturb us. The hearse is here to carry you to your grave. Only one choice remains for you.”

“What choice is that?”

“Do you want to be alive for your funeral or shall we do it more traditionally?”

“This is stupid. This has got Pentdragon written all over it.”

“You're right.” Lloyd sighed. A pout stole the smile from his face. “Using his resources meant agreeing to certain
conditions
. Most of them dramatic. Dramatic and pointless and utterly degrading. I should kill him next for making me go through this stupid routine.”

“Agreed. Now go do it.” Caia said.

Lloyd smiled. “There's time for that later. Now, please, make your choice so we can get on with this.”

“No, Lloyd.” Griffith said. “I'm not going to my own funeral and I'm not going to let you kill me. You can't kill me. You know your spells don't work on me.”

“You're right. I can't kill you like that. Our master taught you too well.” Lloyd took a step back, reached under his jacket and drew a revolver. “That's why I went out and found one of these.” He raised it at Griffith. Griffith turned to run. He didn't know what type of gun it was but he knew he didn't want to get shot by it. He heard the gun fire. He pushed forward, wondering how far he'd get before he felt it. Another shot. His legs were still moving. He looked down at his body; no blood and no pain. Another shot.