The Chronicles of Jonathon Postlethwaite: The Seed of Corruption (44 page)

“Where is this rebel? He will lead me to the boy and this score will be settled forever" he growled impatiently. The Tallman Elder rose nervously to his feet and indicated that the conqueror of his world should follow him.

Chapter Thirty Four

                            In his darkened cell Rislo shivered uneasily, growing concerned. The harrowing wailing from the city had penetrated deep into the Tallmens’  dungeons  to chill his bones. There was a tension in the air which set him at the knife edge of anxiety. The tautness in his soul seem to ebb and flow, each wave more intense than the last, as it responded to the City's demented din. It was as if it talked to him on a deep and essential level. Something was seriously wrong in the city. The sweating giant leapt to his feet as he heard the sound of footsteps approaching his cell.

                            he iron door's inspection plate slid noisily back, the shriek of dry iron on dry iron cutting through him. Two dark eyes peered into the cell.

Rislo recoiled and turned away from their piercing gaze. They were not the eyes of a Tallman. They were small, completely black and penetrated deep inside him causing him to shake uncontrollably.

                            Something evil studied him from beyond the door. Something which threatened almost toyed, with the underpinning of his already tenuous sanity. The inspection plate slowly screeched shut.

                            The lock to the door squeaked and creaked and protested before it flew open violently, slamming against the wall and raising a cloud of dust which intensified the shaft of dirty light cast into Rislo's cell, a shaft of light which  was  abruptly  filled  by  a  terrifying  shadow.  The apparition swept into the room, his cloak flowing behind  him like a river of  viscous darkness.

                            The High Hat studied the trembling giant briefly, his eyes riveting him to the spot. Flax stared at him in disgust and hatred, he had helped the boy! Then he smiled at the shivering, ungainly wretch, a smile which threatened pain and violence and which Rislo found unbearable.

Then Flax spoke.

“Take  me  to  your  friends  rebel"  he  commanded.  The words seemed to cut into Rislo's soul like sharp coffin nails. "… and you may go free.," he added with a false conviction.

                            Rislo did not even hesitate to think. He no longer cared for anyone else but himself. He staggered quickly out into the corridor to find himself surrounded by other High Hats who levelled their guns and even more menacing grins at him.

                            A rope coiled itself around his neck to prevent him moving forward.

Flax caught up with Rislo and laid an icy and heavy hand on his shoulder.

“I have no axe to grind with you Tallman." he said softly. "Just  take  me  to  the  boy and  this machine and  I  will  honour  my  promise"  he  patted  the Tallman's  shoulder  reassuringly  and  added.  "Forget the  Tallmen,  they  no  longer  have  any  power  over my  destiny  or  yours  my  friend. You need only to listen to me." Flax then laughed and his minions joined him in a hysterical chorus which echoed deep into the former stronghold of Rislo's race.

                            Rislo smiled weakly.  Despite his declining  mental stability he quickly re-evaluated his situation. It didn't matter that  it would not be the  Tallmen  who  escorted him into the underworld of Dubh in search of the field imploder.  His plan  needed  no  modification. The rope              slackened              at his              throat              and              the procession of High Hats moved slowly up from the dungeons toward the Generating Chambers. Flax controlled the long striding Tallman's momentum with the rope leash when he moved too quickly, bringing him to a choking halt as the coarse fibres cut into his larynx. The              physical              shock              was              merely              a              minor distraction to  Rislo  as  he  was  mentally  too  detached to feel any real  pain.  His  treacherous  plans  ran through   his   mind continuously,  the  mental  rehearsal  engraving  itself  in memory.

                            A twinge of confusion about  the  Field Imploder's actual whereabouts worried him slightly. To his knowledge the Tallmen had retrieved it  when  they had captured him, but he shook off the minor problem, he had decided to take his new  captors  directly  to the Power Reservoir which he had hidden beneath the broken floor in the house where the dimension gate there promised a short sprint to freedom.

                            During his trip to the Generating Chamber and Power Room, Rislo became dully aware of the absence of Tallmen. This, coupled with Flax's statement, made him realise that the High Hats  really  had  taken  control  of the city. But it had little significance to him now. He only cared for his own survival.

                            He              felt              no              pity              in              his              heart              for              his              former comrades and brothers, their fate was irrelevant to his own  destiny.  Rislo's              strengthening              instinct              for              self- preservation drove him on now, silencing his conscience. His    loyalty    to    Jonathon    and    Cornelius had dissolved quickly. He did hope that Jonathon was still in the world beyond the gate as his return might cause complications if he was waiting for his own return to the prearranged rendezvous.

                            In              the              Generating              Chambers              Rislo              was              not surprised to find Tallmen still running the Field Expanders, although at gunpoint.  Tallman Elders,  accompanied by two in the distinctive robes of technicians was here too.

                            Rislo heard the conversation which was now going on between them and Flax. The technicians would accompany the two dozen or so High Hats  and dismantle the machine when it was located again. They where equipped with powerful arc-lamps and power packs which they distributed  amongst  the  High  Hats as they assembled  around  the  well-head  Rislo  had used so recently. Half the High Hat company climbed down the shaft, lamps ablaze, before Rislo himself was poked and prodded to follow into the now brightly lit shaft.

                            When he stepped out into the brightly lit area below, Rislo was greeted by the sound of gunfire. Stepping over the bones of he corpse of the whore thrown to her death during Rislo's earlier experience here, he moved forward to watch bemused as the High Hats shot nervously at the hissing, grey mass which swirled in the deepening shadows, waiting expectantly.

                            The Underworld was now colder, darker more threatening than it  had  been  before.  And  there where noticeably more rats, bigger rats too, human sized rats. Rislo's frosted breath billowed out beyond the sanctuary of the arc lamp light shafts which seemed to be   being   absorbed   into   the   darkness   which   was  seemed  almost  solid  and  shimmering  now.

                            He could feel the tension he had experienced in the dungeons here too. Only here it was greater, in fact as if the very darkness  were  about  to  come  into  life,  that a living being was at this moment poised to overthrow the world of Dubh, attempting to break through the veil of darkness into the flesh of a Leviathan which would destroy and devour them all.

                            Inside the  sanctuary  of  the  arc-lamps,  the  long stretch of stagnant water ahead of them boiled with the frenzied thrashing of the great blind fish which, excited by the human presence, leapt furiously out of the water to snap at the High Hats who had paddled ignorantly into their domain.

                            Alarmed High Hats charged out of the pool rapidly as the blind fish bit chunks out of their calves and thighs, turning to fire at the now seething white mass  which threw itself  upon  a  hapless  humans  who  had stumbled to his knees and, piece by piece, were being eaten alive.

                            While the High Hats wreaked their revenge upon the fish in the pools, spraying every inch with lead and throwing grenades for good measure, Rislo stood silently and watched beyond light and into the shadows.

                            Suddenly a chill ran down his spine as he saw, at the far extremity of his vision a familiar, silhouette within its  own  small  sphere  of  light.  It  stood  still  and  silent, scrutinizing Rislo. Its hunched physique with its horned head inclined toward him identified it immediately to the horrified Tallman.

                            Rislo screamed a warning which was lost in the uproar around him as the High Hats concerned themselves with the large white fish which now recklessly advanced across the soft, flipping and flopping, their jaws gaping for flesh and air. When Rislo looked up the apparition was gone, but above              the sound              of              echoing              gunfire he heard              an impeaching and defiant  howl.  The giant now began  to sweat with fear. It was the beast he feared most, the creature which had almost had him before and, he knew, had never trusted him for a moment. Only the     presence of its adopted master Jonathon had it kept those awful jaws and claws from him. Now he had lived up to its expectations and Jonathon was not here        to stop it.

                            The rest of the party now reassembled on the banks of the now blood red pools. The High Hat weaponry seemed to have driven off the manic fish and, apart from the occasional splash the pools seemed silent. Flax surveyed the scene, the bloody water seemed to amuse him, yet the increasingly erratic vibrations from the unstable field walls wiped the grin quickly from his face.

                            The jolts were stronger now, sending rubble from the roof of the underworld splashing loudly into the pools before them. The occasional, strobe like flashes of rogue energy lit up the world beyond their lamps. The light from this wild illumination seeming to cling to the ancient masonry and slick cobblestones. Here was a tantalizing glimpse of the world into which they were to venture.

                            Rislo peered sideways at Flax who stared angrily into the darkness. He now closed his eyes and his nostrils flared above his moistened lips as explored the cold  air  for  the  scent  he  sought.  Cordite,  ozone, the  coppery scent of warm blood, the musty odour of multitude of  rats,  the  fearful  sweat  of  the  High  Hats who  were  anxious to conclude their business here and  out there, other beasts which roamed and slid inhabited.

Flax  swore  in  frustration  and  opened  his eyes.  Nowhere the scent of the one he sought amongst was these other powerful smells.

“Onwards!" he barked impatiently and the procession moved obediently into the blood filled pools.

A   nervousness   swept   amongst   the   party   as soft, submerged objects bumped against their legs evoking fear as they swam across the narrow but deep pool before them. Rislo shivered as he crossed. The monster which

lurked at the foot of the pool was still there, he could feel its presence.

                            It moved, glided slowly to the surface and took one of the High Hats at the rear of the party in its wide jaws. The hapless straggler slipped quickly beneath the water without a sound, unmissed.

                            The oscillating hum of the Field Walls and the drone of the engines from the Halls of Machines was now joined again by the eerie wailing from the city itself. Although not as loud as the noise Flax had heard in the chambers of the Elders, it was enough to drown out the patter and swish of the million tiny paws that followed Flax's party out of the pools and into the labyrinth of subterranean streets. Believing the promise of an easy escape back into the well shaft was secure behind them, the party advanced confidently.

                            The dark, dank and cold misty air began to swirl around them as they moved forward, a breeze at the moment, but alien to this place where the air had remained stagnant for a hundred years or more. Dust rose into spectres.

                            Flax moved slowly behind Rislo, flanked by his increasingly nervous High Hats whose eyes followed the thousands of scuttling, scrabbling shadows who kept pace with them just out of range of the arc-lamps.

                            Gone were the victorious grins they had worn after they had conquered the Tans and the Tallmen, replaced with open mouths and wide eyes as fear slowly gnawed away at their confidence. Buildings long forgotten, ancient and derelict, sprang up now on either side of them. The gaping doorways and windows revealing nothing except the increasing density of the shadows which pressed down on the dome of light generated by their  lamps, which now seemed weak and inadequate like glass.

                            Flax halted suddenly and tasted the scent of the alien beast which emanated from the buildings on his right. He was aware too of the rolling, grey carpet of hungry rats that threatened now to encircle them in the darkness.

This single beast kept itself a fraction ahead of them. Whatever it was, it was basically human Flax perceived, although it reeked of some animal, primitive, threatening and entirely devoid of the scent of fear. Flax shrugged his shoulders, about to dismiss it as some half human relic lurking in the ruins, when a flash of automatic gunfire exploded from its position.