The Disappeared (52 page)

Even thinking hurt.

After struggling
through a continent of pain he unrolled himself. Unfurled himself. And managed
to stand on one leg, propping himself against a tree with his right hand. Next
to him pointing skyward, lay the flashlight that had been knocked out of his
hand. Duggan and Lindiwe reached him, running hard. ‘Holy shit, dude,’ Duggan
shouted out of breath still running. ‘Are you okay?’

Lindiwe
stopped hard just in front of him. Frantic anguish on her face. She reached out
tenderly, scared to touch him. ‘Baby, are you hurt?’

Duggan was
wheezing and heaving for breath, doubled over, hands on his knees. ‘Dude, you
should have seen yourself. It was like a Hollywood movie. Holy shit!’ He tried
to laugh but couldn’t, completely winded. ‘Man, that was classic.’

Lindiwe gave
Duggan a look of bitter annoyance then returned to Joshua. She gently stroked
his cheek. ‘Where does it hurt?’

Grinning
through pain. Grimacing through pain. Joshua placed his hand over her. ‘I’m
fine. It hurts like hell, but I’ll be okay.’

Lindiwe looked
down at the leg that Joshua kept suspended in air. ‘Can you stand on that leg?’
Joshua looked down and nodded. Slowly and wearily he shifted his weight to that
leg. And howled with pain. Lindiwe exclaimed with shock, both hands at her
mouth.

‘Shit!’ Joshua
cursed, bitterly disappointed. ‘I can’t believe I was so stupid.’

‘Don’t be so
hard on yourself, Josh,’ Lindiwe whispered tenderly. ‘You were trying to help
the others ... below.’

Joshua’s head
whipped around looking down the slope of the mountain. ‘Oh shit. We gotta get
down there.’ He looked at Duggan. ‘You’ve gotta go on without me. There’s no
way I’ll be able to make it.’ For a moment Duggan looked bewildered. But then
he nodded. A look of grim determination on his face.

‘I don’t want
to leave you here,’ Lindiwe said close to tears.

‘There’s no
other way. We gotta –’

‘Shhhh.’
Duggan put his finger to his lips. ‘I hear something.’ He cocked his ear
listening intently. ‘Someone’s coming.’

Estelle van
Deventer sat pale and shaken. For a few moments she said nothing. A thousand
confused and anguished thoughts rushed through her mind. Like a dam that had
burst its banks. A torrent of delirious seismic emotions and images. She stared
into deep emptiness. Dazed and broken.

The doctor
leaned forward and spoke softly. ‘I understand what you must be feeling. It’s
an extremely traumatic experience. All that confusion. All that loss.’ He tried
to catch her eye. ‘We have people here. Specialised, highly trained people that
can help you deal with your emotions. And the things you’re going through.’

Gradually.
As if in slow motion. Estelle lifted her head and looked doctor Tenenbaum in
the eye. When she spoke her voice was flat and without emotion. ‘You said I
couldn’t go back home. To Bishop. Even if I wanted to.’ The doctor nodded. ‘Why?
What did you mean?’

Tenenbaum
sat back and sighed. Letting slow air escape his lungs. ‘Much has changed since
you last saw your hometown, Estelle. Bishop is no longer the place you
remember.’

For a
moment Estelle van Deventer looked at the doctor uncomprehending. Then she
closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. It was a very visible act of
composure. Moments later, when she opened her eyes, it was a cool and collected
Estelle van Deventer that faced doctor Saul Tenenbaum. ‘Doctor Tenenbaum, I
think it’s time you told me exactly what happened to my town.’

He moved
relentlessly forward. Inexorably up. Towards the voices.

He climbed
without effort over the big jagged outcrop of rock. And reached the edge of the
woods. They were close. He could hear them. He could smell them.

Before him
loomed a large shrub. Through its dense foliage he could see their flashlights.
He used the shrub as cover. Moving closer. And closer. He paused behind the
thick bush. Took a deep breath. And pulled out the 9mm. Now. He stepped out
from behind the plant.

The three of
them stared at Jansen in shock. Not sure if they should trust their eyes.
Duggan was the first to recover. ‘Sergeant Jansen, the army’s coming. They’re
going to kill everyone. We have to warn them. Before it’s too late.’

Jansen stood
motionless. Blank. Savouring the moment.

Duggan took a
step forward.
Had the urgency in his voice not made it clear enough?
‘Dude,
didn’t you hear me? We have to warn the others. They’re in serious danger.’

Jansen stood.
Immobile. Silent. A ghost of a smile played about his lips. Arrogant and
triumphant. Duggan and Joshua looked at each other. ‘Sergeant Jansen ...’

Sergeant
Willie Jansen of the Bishop police station lifted the pistol and pointed it at
Joshua. Using his flashlight to illuminate his line of sight.

Suddenly
everything became clear. The ugly truth dawned on them. Duggan’s jaw fell open.
He felt the blood drain from his face. When he looked at Lindiwe and Joshua he
could see they were experiencing similar emotions. Duggan turned to Jansen. ‘What
are you doing, man? What the hell are you doing? The army’s coming. They’re
going to –’

‘Shut the fuck
up, cunt.’ He motioned with his gun. ‘And get away from him. If you’re gonna
get in my way ...’ He smiled like glinting steel.

Joshua tried
to speak through gritted teeth. Pained seared his nerves. ‘Listen, man, I know
you don’t like me, but we gotta help those people down there. Something’s –’

‘Shut up. Shut
up! SHUT UP!’ Jansen advanced on Joshua, gripping the butt of the pistol with
both hands, wanting to shove the barrel through his head. ‘Stop spreading your
disease, you piece of shit.’ Joshua winced as the gun was held mere centimetres
from his face. Lindiwe cried out and moved in front of Joshua in a protective
stance.

‘This used to
be a good, decent town. Until you showed up.’ He spat in Joshua’s face. ‘Now
all I smell is disease. All day long. Stinky stinky fucking STINKY disease.’

Joshua,
Lindiwe and Duggan exchanged worried glances. Duggan spoke as gently as his
rattled nerves allowed. ‘Dude, what are you talking about? He’s got nothing to
do with this.’ He pointed up the slope of the mountain. ‘We were just there,
man. I saw it for myself. One of the storage tanks exploded.’

‘You think I
don’t see what’s going on? You think coz I’m some stupid cop, I don’t see what’s
going on? Huh?’ He swung the gun over towards him. Duggan froze. Eyes huge. ‘You’re
in on this. You fucking traitor.’

‘Sergeant,
please, I think we all need to relax,’ Joshua said slowly and deliberately.
Jansen took a step back and trained the gun once more on Joshua. ‘We’ve all
been through a tough time, but we need to stand together. Okay? Else we’re all
gonna die?’

‘Die? Die?’
Jansen laughed maniacally. ‘I embrace death, you piece of shit. Today I will
build a mansion in the Kingdom of Heaven.’ Out of the corner of his eye, Jansen
saw the geek fidget. ‘Today, I do the bidding of God. Today I will cut the
disease from the flesh of this town.’ The geek shifted his weight from one leg
to the other fidgeting.
What the hell is he doing?
‘You have brought a
plague on us. But it ends here.’ His breathing was now coming in short feverish
gasps. He bared his teeth. ‘It all ends here!’ Saliva flowed from the corner of
his mouth. ‘Today I will rid the world of your disease.’ His voice was shrill
and demented. His face broke into a mask of pure hate. ‘On your knees.’ Joshua
looked at Jansen shocked.

Lindiwe began
whimpering. ‘Please. Please Sergeant. Please don’t.’

‘On your
fucking knees!’

Joshua looked
at Duggan. His eyes wide. Face drained of blood.

‘Please.
Please don’t hurt him.’ Lindiwe was sobbing now.

‘Sergeant
Jansen, don’t do this,’ Duggan shouted.

‘Please, I
will do anything. Anything you want.’ Lindiwe’s body was racked by sobs. Joshua
took her hand and squeezed it.

‘ON YOUR
FUCKING KNEES!’

Slowly. Not
taking his eyes off Jansen. Joshua sank to his knees.

Lindiwe tried
to lift him up, hot wet tears washing over her face. ‘No, don’t. Don’t. Please
don’t.’

‘Sergeant
Jansen, this is murder!’ Duggan shouted.

What the hell
is the geek doing? Something behind his back.

‘Please. Get
up. Get up.’ Lindiwe was hysterical, tugging at Joshua. If she could just lift
him up this wouldn’t happen. If she could just get him on his feet.

Joshua, on his
knees, stared with smouldering eyes at Jansen.

‘Don’t do
this, Sergeant.’

Jansen stepped
forward and aimed.

‘Please get
up! Joshua! Get up!’ Sobbing hysterically, Lindiwe pulled at Joshua. She moved
in front of him.

Hot tears
welled in Joshua’s eyes.

With brutal
violent might he shoved Lindiwe away.

She fell to
the earth hard, crying hysterically.

Jansen aimed
the gun at Joshua’s forehead.

Lindiwe jumped
up and ran for Joshua.

Out of the
corner of his eye Jansen saw the geek jump forward.

Something was
hurled at him. Something.

The sharp beak
of the bolt cutters tore into Jansen’s forehead. Splintering bone.

Lindiwe
screamed diving in front of Joshua.

Jansen pulled
the trigger.

On and on.

Top secret.
Highly specialised.

On and on. The
columns of Alpha Team 9 moved through the empty streets of Bishop.

The tracks of
the modified armoured cars rolled over the tarmac. Like a million insects
feeding.

Inexorable.
Unstoppable. Moving into the quiet Free State town.

The column of
strangely attired soldiers moved in perfect unison. Like an army of the
Apocalypse. The moon glinted like cold steel in their black goggles.

Inexorable.
Unstoppable.

They had come
here to do their grim duty.

No-one must
know. No-one could
ever
know.

They had their
orders.

And nothing
would stop them.

He pulled the
trigger.

And pulled the
trigger.

And pulled the
trigger.

There was a
slight ache in his forehead where the geek’s bolt cutter had hit him. His eyes
were closed.

He pulled the
trigger.

And opened his
eyes.

He was alone.
And they were gone.

Jansen whirled
around, pointing the gun everywhere. Looking this way. And that. Confused.
Dismayed. Enraged.

Where the hell
are they?!?

He violently
threw down the pistol. And howled a terrifying scream of anguish and
frustration. Pointing an accusing finger at the sky, he cursed the heavens in
mad fury and black vitriol, unleashing a torrent of oaths.

Standing in a
slight drizzle of moonlight surrounded by the awesome darkness of the Obsidian
forest, his shoulders slumped heaving with the exertion of his rage.

He had failed.

He looked up,
swinging the flashlight this way and that. Around him mighty trees leered and
jumped in the shifting light. Gnarled branches grabbed at him while the pine -decked
earth teemed and squirmed. Darkness fell upon him then retreated. And there was
something else. Something that – at first – seemed so out of place he barely
noticed it.

There were
sounds.

For the first
time that entire day, the world was alive again with sounds. After a day of
sterile silence in which it seemed they had all lived in a vacuum ... nature
had come alive again. But it wasn’t the chirping of birds or the ubiquitous
sounds of insect life. It was something else. He listened carefully. It was a
crackling. No. A whispering. A mad babble of whispering. No. It couldn’t be.

He looked up
at the towering pine trees. Of course. It was the sound of leaves. Rustling in
the wind. There were thousands of trees. That’s what it was. Of course.

But. It couldn’t
be.

He held up his
hand testing the air.

There was not
even the slightest whisper of a breeze. Nothing at all. And yet. As he stood
there he could hear it distinct and crisp. A million leaves whispering on the
breath of the wind.

Jansen backed
away hesitantly. His rage now replaced with uncertainty. And fear.

Where was he?
What was happening? What had happened to the others?

And then.
Almost completely masked by distance and the tree cover. He saw it.

The red light.

He was
immediately transfixed. And strangely unafraid.

And then he
knew. Suddenly and without the least bit of doubt. With a certainty that had
never possessed him before. He knew that the red light was his destiny. That it
had always been.

He began
walking towards it.

The red light.

And as he came
nearer, the trees began to recede and fade around him. They faded and faded.
Until there was only a corridor. A tunnel. An infinite tunnel at the end of
which

The red light.

Jansen
increased his pace. Walking faster and faster. Until he was jogging. Running.
Sprinting. He was tearing through the darkness. Through the tunnel. Towards

The red light.

Like a mad
demon he was running. Heedless. Infernal. As he increased his speed he could
feel it rushing towards him

The red light.

Growing.
Swelling.

And then he
was off his feet. And the red light suddenly came to life around him.

It was alive.

And then.

Terrible and
hideous shapes materialised out of the red.

Mad. Tearing.
Screeching.

Biting and
clawing.

Demented
demonic shapes. Ripping and howling at him. Shredding. Eating him alive.

He screamed.

Doctor Saul
Tenenbaum stood up from Estelle van Deventer’s hospital bed and walked towards
the silent electro-cardiogram. His back to her.

Yes. It was
time to tell her the truth. Well ...

He fingered
the dead screen of the EEC, thinking. He wanted to tell her the truth. More
than anything he wished he could. But the directive – warning – from CentComm
had been clear. An official explanation had been prepared. Fabricated. To
deviate from this. To reveal the truth. Would cost him his career. And worse. Implied
in the clinical language of government prerogative and stipulation, there was
the implicit threat. Neutralisation. No. Even if he wanted to – and he did – he
could never breathe a word of this to anyone. Least of all the old woman who
was waiting for him to make sense of the thing that had happened to her world.
Saul Tenenbaum turned around.

‘In the
early morning hours of the twenty-seventh of September ... the number two
storage tank at the Obsidian Technologies compound exploded when a pressure
valve malfunctioned. Several hundred litres of a highly lethal industrial chemical
compound containing high levels of Potassium Cyanide was released into the
environment.’ Of course it wasn’t really potassium cyanide. It was something
far more lethal ... and terrifying. But the world would never know. 

Estelle van
Deventer listened to the doctor’s words in mute horror.

‘Due to the
location of Bishop ... in relation to the explosion ...’ He paused. ‘Because of
its position, it was especially badly affected.’ He lowered his eyes, unwilling
to meet her stare. ‘Casualties were so ... high, it was declared a disaster
area.’ He heard her gasp. ‘You survived, Estelle, because of your oxygen mask.
It protected you just long enough until the gas dissipated.’ Tenenbaum looked
at her with pity. ‘In the period since you were evacuated ... Bishop has been
quarantined ... temporarily. It’s currently a no-go zone, enforced by a military
blockade.’

For a long
time. An interminable moment weighed down with morbid thoughts and stunned
realisations, there was only silence in the dome. Then Estelle van Deventer
looked up and, with a plaintive expression that broke his heart, she spoke. ‘Please
tell me what happened to my loved ones. To Lindiwe. To my friends. The people
of Bishop.’ She smiled, a bittersweet smile pursed with barely-controlled
grief. Tears welled in her eyes. ‘To my dogs.’

The doctor
looked at her as empathy squeezed his heart into a tight ball. He nodded. ‘Yes.
You deserve the truth.’

Darkness.

Cool. Quiet
darkness.

And not a
sound.

Not a sound.
Except for ...

Dripping
water? A leaking tap?

Water. Yes. From
a leaking tap.

And ... ?

He opened his
eyes. He was staring at the face of Joshua Paul Kingsley.

He was staring
at himself.

Could it be?

He took a step
forward. The image buckled and warped.

No. It was a
mirror. He was staring at a mirror. He looked around. He was standing in a
dirty long bathroom. Yes. A bathroom. And he knew it. He knew it well.

Westville
Reformatory.

He jumped back,
crashing into the door of a cubicle behind him. Startled. Shocked. No! This
couldn’t be. And yet. Here he was.

Beyond the
darkness of the entrance to the bathrooms he heard a scuffle. What he saw made
his heart bounce in his chest.

Rico. And his
henchman. Standing at the doorway. ‘You’re a dead man, Kingsley. You’re a dead
man.’

Joshua felt
dizzy and disorientated. He stumbled losing his balance. ‘What’s happening?
Where’s Lindiwe?’

There was
rapacious laughter. ‘Look at the birthday boy,’ Spook shouted laughing like a
little girl. Tee-hee-hee.

‘Where’s
Lindiwe? Where’s Lindiwe?’ The new guy shouted, making a face at Joshua, his
hands flapping next to his head in mockery.

Joshua felt
the world breathing through his eyeballs. He fell forward grabbing a basin for
balance. ‘We have to ... get to ... Bishop. Everyone ...’

Spook and the
new guy laughed with whooping ridicule, circling Joshua like two ravenous
sharks.

Joshua steadied
himself. ‘Get out of my way ... now.’

‘Tee-hee-hee,’
Spook laughed.

‘Hoo-hoo-hoooooo,’
the new guy laughed.

Rico took a
step forward. ‘You’re a dead man, Kingsley.’ He jumped onto his one foot and
delivered a neat kick to the side of Joshua’s head.

Joshua swayed
on his feet, bent over and fell on his knees. He felt light-headed. Wobbly. But
enough is enough. He looked up at Rico through the tendrils of his long blond
hair. He snarled, feeling rage rise in him. Slow but steady rage. Enough is
enough. ‘You motherfucker!’ He lunged forward, propelling Rico into the others
behind him. They went crashing to the floor kicking and punching and

‘Hey
bra
,
it’s time!’

Incredible
blinding light. And ...

Joshua and
Duke were standing in the Taiwanese mini-market. Duke had the old Oriental on
the floor, whimpering and shouting in Chinese. Behind him his wife and daughter
were screaming hysterically through incoherent tears. ‘Get me that money now.
Or I shoot every last fucking one of you. Motherfucker Gook!’

Joshua reached
forward. The mother and daughter shrank back, screaming. ‘No, don’t. Don’t do
it, Duke.’

‘It’s time,
bra,’ Duke shouted laughing, hysterically. ‘It’s fucking time.’

In the
background Joshua saw a flicker of movement. The daughter! She had a shotgun.
He heard a deafening explosion. And instantly saw Duke’s head disintegrate. He
looked on helplessly as she trained the barrels of the shotgun on him. She
pulled the

‘No! Get away
from him.’

A group of
boys were crowded around something. Someone. He ran towards them. It was his
brother. Davey. ‘Get away from him.’ He jumped into the mêlée hitting, biting,
kicking. Feeling strangely dissociated like an actor that has performed the
same scene a thousand times. ‘Leave him alone!’ He grabbed a burly boy by the
collar of his shirt and threw him down.
Boof
. He fell down laughing,
maniacally. ‘Aw, look at that! He needs his baby brother to defend him.’

Joshua fell
upon the fat boy, punching him in the face. Blood flew like a red shower. ‘You
leave him alone ... or else.’

‘Or else what,
Kingsley?’ The boy was struggling to talk through laughter and blood sprouting
from his mouth. ‘Don’t you know it’s all over?’ He laughed spurting blood.

‘It’s all over,’
the man told his weeping mother. She was on her knees, clasping his hand in
both of hers. He walked across the smooth wooden floor of the hallway dragging
her behind him. ‘It’s no use,’ Joshua’s father said. ‘I can’t take this
anymore. I’m leaving.’

‘Please don’t,’
his mother pleaded through hysterical tears.

‘Please don’t,’
Joshua whispered.

‘Please don’t
leave me,’ his mother sobbed.

His father
shook her off and straightened the lapels of his jacket. He opened the door.
And walked out.

Through the
door. The light was so unbearably bright. So ... complete. He stood looking at
his mother. A shapeless crying mess on the floor. All the time the light grew.
Before him. Around him. Inside him. Slowly the light grew. And grew. And grew.
No. The light wasn’t growing. It was him. He was moving closer. Without moving.
Without walking. He was moving closer. Into the light. Into the light. The
beautiful exquisite Oh my God light. And a sound. Beautiful and tender and
yearning. Was growing inside him. A word. That didn’t begin. A word. That didn’t
end. Was rising up in him. A word

It was his
name.

Joshua.

It was his
name.

Joshua.

Over and over.
And over again.

It was his
name.

Joshua.

Lindiwe was
shouting his name.

Minki opened
her eyes. And sat up, feeling strange and disorientated. A hazy dream-like
quality pervaded everything.

She looked
around. The restaurant was empty. Completely abandoned. She felt a hot stab of
fear. How could they leave her behind? How could they do this to her?

‘Aunty Moira!’
Her voice disappeared into the emptiness of the room. She tried again, louder
and more insistent. ‘Aunty Moira!’ Hysteria fringed her voice. ‘Aunty Moira.’
Nothing. And no-one. She was all alone. She jumped from the booth. And stood
bewildered and panicky. What was she supposed to do?

She walked
across the restaurant floor, falling and stumbling. Outside the night was dark
and without stars or moon. No! What was going on? Where was everyone? Why did
they leave her behind? She looked around frantically. Her head whipping this
way and that. She began to sob.

‘Aunty Moira!
Lindiwe!’

‘Minki.’

Minki spun
around. Someone. A woman. Had called her name. ‘Lindiwe,’ she said uncertainly.
‘Lindiwe, is that you?’

‘Minki.’

It wasn’t
Lindiwe. It was a voice she didn’t recognise. But there was a quality to the
voice. A floating serenity that immediately calmed her. Whatever else may
happen. She was no longer in danger.

‘Minki.’

Minki walked towards
the kitchen. She pushed open the swing doors and entered. And then she saw her.
Standing in a pool of radiant light. A tall beautiful woman with long dark
hair. In an old-fashioned dress. The woman smiled at her and motioned for her
to approach. ‘Minki, my darling, I need you to come with me.’ Minki stared at
the beautiful apparition as an exquisite warmth washed over her. ‘Don’t be
afraid, Minki. Everything’s going to be just fine.’ Minki walked slowly towards
her. ‘It’s all over, Minki. There’s no longer any need to be afraid.’ And she
wasn’t. Minki wasn’t afraid. Not anymore. She walked calmly up to the beautiful
woman and stood before her. The woman held out her hand smiling.