The Deep (12 page)

When Walt pushes against the right door, it
swings open with a squeaky sound. Inside the cathedral it is dark,
but once my eyes get used to the sparse light I can see how
beautifully the interior is decorated as well. Even the ceiling is
ornamented in stripes that fan out and remind me of the cockle
shells on our northern beach. And everything is so dizzyingly tall.
So vast. If Saul had ever had the chance to do his speeches here,
he would have captivated his audience even more.

“Can you imagine what it would have been like
if your temple had looked like this?” I ask quietly.

Walt smiles. “It would have been weird,
without Annabelle.”

The giant pillars supporting the vault
feature tapestries depicting Jesus and a woman who faintly
resembles Annabelle. She’s holding a baby in her arms.

My breath hitches when my gaze lands on a
bizarre, black construction made of metal tubes. It’s all the way
in the back of the cathedral. Somehow, it reminds me of a face – a
kind of mask like Dark Father wore in the stories. But it can’t be
– the people whom we thought were our ancestors never existed, and
they can’t have been important enough to depict in churches and
cathedrals of the old religion.

Walt pulls me along to a large table in the
back. “The altar,” he says pensively. “We have something
similar.”

And then, a small, shiny object catches my
eye. It glimmers golden in the rays of sunlight streaming into the
cathedral through a clear-glass side window. It’s a cross made of
gold, with inlaid red, transparent stones. It’s not on the altar,
but lies half-forgotten on the floor behind a large, stone bowl on
some kind of pedestal.

As Walt lays his hands reverently on the
altar, I stoop down and reach for the small crucifix – that’s what
Sonia called them during our visit to the church. It feels cold in
my hand when I pick it up, but the stones gleam at me with a warm,
red glow. It looks stunning amidst the shambles left of the old
order – a thing of beauty in a world capable of mass destruction.
I’m taking this. It’s a shame I’ll have to hand it over to Victor,
but at least I can keep it with me for a few hours, and feel its
weight in my pocket on our walk back to Dunsford. Our filly will be
gone by now. Animals usually have a sharp instinct warning them to
stay away from dangerous places.

Only then do I realize that I haven’t
experienced any physical pain so far. No headaches, no nausea,
nothing at all.

“Walt?” I move toward him. He’s looking at
the stained glass window above his head, the center piece featuring
the same lady dressed in blue holding her baby. She is surrounded
by feminine-looking men with wings on their backs. Truly
bizarre.

“Yes?” he replies absently.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” He turns away from the window and
smiles at me. “Sorry for being so quiet. I’m just sort of overcome
with everything in here.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” I take his
hand. “Aren’t you feeling sick? No symptoms of radiation
poisoning?”

“No, actually.” He blinks in confusion.
“Well, that’s odd. But so much the better. Maybe we should go
anyway. I don’t want to stick around for hours.”

“Yeah, I get that.” I show him the golden
crucifix. “Look, this is what I’m bringing for Victor.”

“That’s really beautiful.” Walt pulls me into
his arms and softly kisses me. “Just as beautiful as you,” he adds.
“Fortunately, Victor won’t get you as a gift.”

“Yeah, that’s a good thing.” I kiss him back
and think back to the moment Walt told Victor off. No one has ever
protected me like that, except Colin. It feels good. I sigh
contentedly and lean into Walt as our kiss deepens. The silence in
the cathedral is broken by laughter bubbling up in my throat when
his hands slip down to my waist, and then even lower.

“Walt!” I hiss. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” he asks, perplexed.

“Touching me inappropriately while in a holy
place.” I wink at him. “You remember what you did to me in our
graveyard?”

His cheeks turn red, but he doesn’t let go.
“I don’t mind going somewhere else,” he suggests a bit huskily.
When he dips his head, his lips land on mine again. “Maybe I can
touch you appropriately, then,” he mumbles against my mouth.

Now I feel my own cheeks getting hot. “I,
uhm, have my own room in the hotel,” I stammer.

Walt smiles. “Let’s go back before it gets
dark,” he whispers.

“Brilliant idea.” I chuckle and slip out of
his arms, proceeding to the heavy door of the cathedral. We quickly
leave the premises and head out of the destroyed city unscathed to
get to Moretonhampstead before we won’t be able to find our way
back anymore.

Without our filly, the trip back takes
considerably longer. Moreover, we have to trudge the last mile
uphill. I’m dead beat by the time we get back to the narrow track
leading to Victor’s barn. But other than that, I feel fine – no
queasiness or headache. It looks like we made a lucky escape. The
sickness that chased our forefathers across the sea has left us
alone.

“Leia,” I suddenly hear Walt hiss in alarm.
“Wait.”

He stops directly in front of me and ducks
down. I follow suit as he crawls forward and hides behind a large
rock sticking out of the moorland.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, my heart beating in my
throat.

“There’s a group of Peacekeepers there,” he
replies. “You know, those soldiers armed with needles. I think they
may have discovered the hole in the fence.”

“What?” I whisper sharply, crawling forward
to look around the rock. Then I see what he means – six men in
uniform are standing next to the farm on the other side of the
fence. A seventh soldier has gone into the barn and is just opening
the secret door in the back wall, staring out wide-eyed.

There is no sign of mother and son.

“They were found out,” Walt says flatly.
“This doesn’t look good.”

I shiver involuntarily. Although Victor
wasn’t my favorite person in the world, he didn’t deserve this.
There is little doubt as to what they will do with him. Or will
these people show mercy for someone who isn’t aggressive himself
but helps others who are? I don’t know, but right now there are far
more pressing matters requiring our attention.

“How are we ever going to get back in
undetected?” I ask in despair.

Walt casts a look around. “I guess just
showing up at the gates isn’t going to go down well. Maybe we can
climb the fence?”

“It’s way too high for that,” I protest. In
the distance, I can hear the grumble of an engine.

“Something’s coming,” Walt observes, peeking
out his head over the rock. “One of those maintenance vans.”

“I bet they’re going to patch up the hole in
the fence,” I say, dejectedly closing my eyes.

“This may be our chance,” Walt says. “Look,
they’re parking the van a little ways away from the hole. It’s too
bumpy and steep to put it right next to the fence.”

“So?”

“While they busy themselves fixing their
precious fence, we can hide inside the van. It will go back to
Dartmoor eventually.”

I stare at Walt. “You’re a genius,” I say
from the bottom of my heart.

He flashes me his familiar, arrogant grin. “I
know, sweetheart. So, are you coming? I’ll go first.”

“Pff,” I mutter, but I’m only too happy to
trail behind him. Or crawl, more like. It’s a good thing the moors
are overgrown with tall grass, hiding us from view as we make our
way to the van that will be our ticket in. The soil around the
vehicle is barren, though, so we crouch and run the final few yards
to the back doors. They’re unlocked. Nobody is behind the wheel
either. The entire team is working on the fence, using obscure
tools and big coils of metal wire.

“Hide behind those,” Walt says, pointing at a
high stack of boxes. “When they come back to put their stuff in
here, they won’t be able to see us.” He pulls the door shut. The
only light inside the loading compartment comes from the grimy
little window in the back door.

When I slump down on the cold, metal floor
and crawl into Walt’s embrace, I realize how afraid I was before. I
let out a shuddering breath and try to stop my tears. Pressing my
face against his shoulder, I snake my arms around his waist.

“You okay?” he asks, gently caressing my
hair.

“No,” I sob. “I put us both in mortal danger.
We could have gotten sick in Exeter. And now we might be Purged by
those creeps for sneaking out of Dartmoor.”

“Except we didn’t get sick,” Walt says
decidedly. “And as long as we manage to get back into Dartmoor
County unnoticed, we’ll be fine.” He kisses my forehead. “Hey, I
went with you to Exeter of my own free will. I could have said
no.”

“Are you happy we went?” I want to know.

“Well, happy isn’t the word I am looking for,
but I do think it was good for me to see it.” Walt rubs his face
absently. “Before we left Hope Harbor, I was afraid that my people
would never again be able to live in peace, because of all the
changes in our lives. But I’m convinced it will never get as bad as
it was in the old world.”

I nod. “Our island isn’t the worst place in
the world. It may be primitive, but our way of life is much more
natural.”

“I’d still like to see more of the world,
though,” Walt muses. “There has to be more than just Cornwall.
Other peoples. Other societies.”

“I don’t know. This may be all that’s left.”
I hold my breath when I suddenly feel the van wobble lightly.
Apparently, someone has hopped into the car to sit down at the
wheel. When the engine roars to life, I can’t suppress a squeal of
excitement.

“We’re going back,” Walt whispers. “Thank
Goddess.”

After the van stops moving, it doesn’t take
long before the driver opens the doors to the loading area to take
out some goods. Fortunately, he ignores the boxes we’re hiding
behind for the moment, so when he strolls off carrying a bundle of
planks in his arms, we seize the opportunity to hop out and slink
away.

We turn out to be in some kind of backyard. I
can’t make out our exact location, but the building on the right
seems to be one of the gatehouses we saw near the exit to the
outside world.

I blindly grab Walt’s hand when I hear a
gruff voice behind us. “What’s your business here?”

We slowly turn around and stare into the face
of a tall man with curly, dark hair.

“Oh, we’re just looking around,” Walt replies
oafishly. He gives the man an innocent smile, extending his hand.
“I’m Walt, assistant Bookkeeper on Tresco. Tony is giving us a
grand tour of Dartmoor, as per President Jacob’s instructions.”

The eyes of the man who was probably the
driver of our getaway car soften a bit. “Oh, yes, I’ve heard about
that. Well, you’re not supposed to be back here,” he says. “We’ve
had some – trouble. People had to be taken away. Pretty awful, all
of it.”

I put on my stupidest face. “I hope things
didn’t get too violent,” I mumble. “You kind of startled me by
snapping at us. It scared me.”

The man visibly pales. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean
it like that. I was just talking loudly because you scared
me
. Did I seem aggressive?” He pronounces the word as though
it might kill him on the spot.

Walt puts a reassuring hand on the driver’s
shoulder. “No worries. We’ve had a mighty good time in Dunsford.
Could you possibly show us to the nearest bus stop? We really
should be going back to Moretonhampstead.”

“Of course,” the man replies helpfully. He
leads the way back to the square near the border gate where Victor
furtively addressed us, pointing at a bench under a large chestnut
tree before taking off in the direction of the guardhouse.

My heart stars to hammer in my chest when I
see just how many soldiers and border guards are patrolling the
square and crowding near the gatehouse. Is it a coincidence that
Victor was caught in the act just after we used his secret doorway?
Or are these people also looking for us – because someone might
have seen us talking to Victor and thought it was suspicious?

My hand clasps the golden crucifix in the
pocket of my cardigan. We have to get out of here – right this
second.

As if Walt’s Goddess is smiling down on us,
the bus shows up at that moment. Walt jumps up from the bench just
a tiny bit too eagerly and drags me along to the door. “You think
anybody saw us?” he mutters under his breath.

“I don’t know. Let’s sit all the way in the
back this time,” I suggest in a low voice.

We both get on, care-free smiles plastered on
our faces as we pass the bus driver and make our way to the back
seats. It’s only after the bus starts moving and the square full of
soldiers slides out of view that I can relax my fingers cramped
around the golden treasure from the cathedral.

After a long journey home, we bring Carl the
good news about the new, secret shipyard that the Eldest approved
of. Ben immediately declares that he wants to be a part of the red
herring team in St Martin, and Carl is fine with that. He has
probably noticed too how much our trip to Newexter has affected
Ben.

“Would you mind being my messenger?” Carl
asks me. “I am going to send my eight trustees on their way east.
They’re supposed to stay there permanently, and I want to know how
the work progresses. Which means someone needs to travel back and
forth to carry letters and reports.”

I nod. “I’m going to be a busy woman,” I
grin. “I promised to be the Bookkeeper’s acting assistant, and of
course I’m still working for Daryl too.”

“Oh, well, necessity is the mother of a
glorious career,” the shipyard superintendent replies, his voice
playful and serious at the same time. “Let’s just hope hard times
will be over soon.”