Echoes from the Lost Ones (23 page)

“What? What will happen if I do not complete my studies?”
 

“Do you not wish to?”

“I did, ‘tis true, but now I am not so sure.”

“Pray explain yourself.”

“Pray you explain yourself,” I said and folded my arms.
 

“I do not know what you mean.”

“You were chatting on a pod.”

Brother Jude said nothing.

“Your silence confirms my hunch all right. I recall being told that only the Abbott himself had such a device.”

As soon as I mentioned the Abbot something seemed to switch back on in my head. I blinked, wiped my eyes and stared over his head and out of the window. The clouds that had followed me all the way to the Monastery dispersed and melted into nothing. The sun shone bright and clear and I said, “The Abbot. Why have we not yet seen him?”

Brother Jude lifted himself from his chair and walked slowly towards me. He had a smile that was not so pleasant and did not fill me with confidence or calm. I backed away, turned and ran down the steps.

Before I reached the bottom, I heard a sound so savage and raw that my head felt as if a knife was being thrust into it. I grabbed onto my noggin and squeezed my eyes tight shut. The sound intensified. I felt the deep, low tones shudder throughout my bod and shake it so that I thought an earthquake was about to explode under my feet.

I sank onto the stone step, but not before Brother Jude let loose another noise bomb. I put my hands over my ears to try and block out the din, but it grew louder. I rocked back and forth wishing for the hideous drone to stop.

It did not.

I tried to stand, to move away, but a hand gripped my shoulder and dug in so much that it felt as if the muscles were being torn away from my bones.

Brother Jude twisted me around, knelt and put his leering gob close to mine. “I have waited too long for you to let you fall from my grasp.”

I felt his scalding breath against my cheek, and would have turned my head away but could not. Try as I might I was unable to move and had to listen to his filthy words slide down my ears. “I will tempt you away from your true calling. I will manipulate your talent to serve my purpose. I no longer care for the Agro assignment they gave me. I know you. I know your true potential. I will have it for myself. You will come with me and finish your lesson. Or here where you sit, will be your last resting place. For if I cannot have what you have, then you are as nothing to me.”

I conjured up all that was left of my strength and spat into his contorted face. He sat back on his heels, wiped off the spittle and stood. “Wolfbitch,” he said, bent down, grabbed my wrist and yanked.

I tried to resist, to pull away but he tightened his grip. I thought he would rip my hand right off. I wriggled and twisted as best I could, but I was no match against the weight of sound that he channelled towards me.

His mouth opened wide, his eyes bulged and his tongue stuck out. I was reminded of the gargoyles outside and once again attempted to free myself. But the guttural, razor sound that issued from his throat was too powerful. It swelled inside my head, kept me stuck to the floor, and as his hands slipped underneath my armpits, I became all limp and squishy unable to resist. He lifted me a tad and dragged me up the staircase step-by-step. He never ceased the abominable sound, even though his laboured breath came out hard and fast.

My desire to be free from his clutches grew with every bump to my rear. I forced all other thoughts from my head and focused on escape. Although my body was his to command, my mind was made of stronger stuff.

Concentrating hard and harder still on my friends, I pictured all their faces. I remembered everything that Brother Jude had taught me. How to breathe in order to make my notes last longer; how to call forth things by identifying their individual frequencies and singing only to them. The way I had brought back the chickle and summoned the eagle.

I focused on the ‘dult who was hauling me up the steps as if I was no more than a sac of apples, and listened to who he was. Through the nastiness that spewed from his mouth, I heard an inside note. A thin and mewling moan that was his true persona.

With one greatly effort, I filled my hunched up lungs with air and let out a sound all squeaky high. A sissy noise that he recognised at once. I made it again and Brother Jude came to a halt. He stiffened for a sec, pulled my shoulders up to my ears, then shuddered all violent-like and let me go. I tumbled down bashing head and bum on stone, and landed all scrunched up at the bottom of the stairs.

“Adara? Adara? Are ye alive?”

I opened my eyes to see Wirt’s face above my own.

“Alive, I think.”

“Marcellus and I came when we heard ye sing. Such a thin and feeble note, that we became all concerned. What has occurred?”

I gulped and held up my arms. Wirt grabbed onto my forearms and pulled, but I was still a leaden lump and could not move enough for him to lift me. Wirt turned his head and called out to Marcellus. I steered my gaze to where he looked and saw Marcellus hasten down the bleak passageway to where I lay. He took my hands and gently pulled me to my feet. I leant against his chest and felt the quickness of his heartbeat match my own.

“Brother Jude?” I said and broke free of Marcellus’s welcome embrace. His big hand gripped mine and we took a few steps to the alcove. He leant his head inside and looked upwards.

“I see body hunched. I think crying. You fear for him?”

“Nope. I am a-feared of him.”

Marcellus pulled back his head and looked into my eyes. “He harm you?” I nodded. His face darkened and his hands became fists.

“We have sense that all is awry. We take you from this place to other more secure.”

He took my elbow and made to move away, but I stopped him by yanking my mitt free of his and slumping to the ground, head in hands. A spike of pain dug into my brain. A stabbing sensation that slowly turned into a sound, that, in turn, became a word. That, in turn, became a name. Lost in the fugginess of my addled noggin it repeated until I could contain it no longer.

I opened my mush and said as loud as I could, “Abbot. Abbot!” and said the name several times more. I saw both Wirt and Marcellus blink all quick-like as if to wash away some grit. Something was brewing inside me, compelling me to speak the word. I became stronger with each mention of the Abbot and stood tall and straight. I walked past my friends into the corridor. I breathed in and said the name twice more. “Abbot. Abbot.”

At the far end of the passage, I saw the figures of Eadgard and Sister Gabriel running at full pelt and shouting something that I could not quite make out. I waved to them but they did not wave back. They hurtled towards me as if being followed by something mean.

I observed that behind them scurried all those that we had shared the place of eating with. Without exception, all were shouting the name “Abbot” with such volume that it ceased to be a word at all and became as like a bolt of lightning that shot into our very hearts.

I placed my hands over my ears and was about to say something like, “What’s with all the name calling?” when they stopped dead.

Sister Gabriel, who was no more than a bubs length from me, made a face as if she were chewing raw onions. Eadgard put a hand to her shoulder but pulled it away all sharpish and grasped onto the sides of his head. I watched as all the folk next to and around them screwed up their faces and grabbed at their chests. I heard all let out a great gasp. They choked for a sec, then everyone before me fell down.

Turning, I witnessed Wirt and Marcellus clutch at their chests and collapse to the floor. I took my hands away from my ears, hurried to my friends and knelt beside them.

“Wirt?” I said and touched his cheek. It was cold.

“Marcellus?” He did not answer.

I rose and stared at the crumpled bodies on the ground. Then walked to where Sister Gabriel and Eadgard lay and squatted beside them. I bent my head towards their mouths, but heard nowt. There came a silence that was so quiet, I felt it on my skin. Something warm trickled down my jawline. I put my hand to my face and wiped away the blood that oozed from my ear, and stood.

“Still conscious, Adara? Well done.”

Through the carnage on the floor walked Brother Dominic. He took something plug-like from his ears and clapped his hands as if to suggest that I had performed something of wonder. He stepped over the prostrate figures not once glancing down to see who was underfoot.

“You really are The One. Jude was right. Speaking of which, where is he?”

“I left him somewhere upon the steps.”

“Dead or alive?”

“Alive I believe. Although I wish it were not so.”
 

“Good. Not so much damage done then.”

He held out his hand for me to take but I brushed it aside and stepped back to where Wirt and Marcellus lay. I saw how pale their faces had become and felt an iciness creep throughout my veins.

Brother Dominic squinted and pursed his lips. “You should be amongst this rabble. You should be as close to death as these,” he said, then produced a small object that looked like something I had seen in a history vid. It was a dark disc with a long stick-like thing jutting out of it. I rummaged in my addled brain to access where and in what context I had seen it before.

“All I need to do is to click this switch to full power and you and all of these expendables will be no more,” Brother Dominic said and pointed the thing at me.

“An ultra sonic gun. That is a relic and no mistake.”

“Still works, though. A fine weapon it is too, made in the first part of the twenty-first century to control angry mobs. Supposedly non-lethal, but then someone used it to do more harm than good. It was discredited as dangerous and banned.”

He smirked and twiddled with a dial on the side of the handle. “On this setting, the brain seizures causing instant death.”

I was all-thankful that my instinct for survival had kicked in when it did, or that thing would have scuppered me as well. My nonce all tutored up from Brother Jude’s lessons, blocked out the higher than high frequency and I remained awake. But I was not so sure that at a more intense level I could withstand its devastating power.

“This device you have used on all of these?”

“Indeed, but on a safer setting.”

“Why? Why do such dreadful stuff?”

“To stop you from continuing your journey to free the Meeks. What you have learned from the traitor Sister Gabriel, is information best-kept secret. This knowledge is a danger to us, to the Agro plans for all of humankind.”

“But you are holy men and women. How can you...?”

“Stifle your curiosity, Adara, it is of little use. Know this before you die, that neither Brother Jude nor myself are true believers. Like you, we are on a quest. But that has changed. Thanks to the good sister there,” he said and poked her in the ribs with his foot. He gave me a most unpleasant grin and raised the weapon level to my face.

“I have devised a new mission. To end your existence and keep safe the secret Sister Gabriel chose to reveal. I realise that the Agros will question your demise. They had plans for you, but when I tell them that you found out the truth about their schemes, they will understand that what I am about to do was a necessity.”

He placed his finger on the switch at the side of the handle, just below the black disc. He paused for a moment and said, “I will allow you to pray to whatever or whomever you believe in. Make it quick, I would have an end to this.”

He squinted and aimed the gun at my head.

I closed my eyes and waited for the sound that would end the thumping in my chest.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Open Mouthed

Quite a few secs went by and I heard nowt. No skull smashing sound that would turn my brain to squish. No noise that would send a shock wave coursing through my bod to burst my vitals. Nowt, nadder, not a thing.

I opened my eyes and saw Brother Dominic staring at the floor. The sonic gun pushed down between his belt and robe. I gulped and he lifted his gaze.

“Don’t look so perplexed. Or for that matter, relieved. I haven’t forgot that I am to kill you. I just thought I’d have a little fun first.”

He bent over Eadgard and Sister Gabriel and shoved them close together. He positioned their heads in such a way as to make them look as if they were about to kiss, then stood and faced me. He pulled the weapon from his belt, held it up and pointed it at my noggin.

“I will arrange your corpse on top of that Clonie filth when I am done. As for that irregular youth, Wirt, whom you choose to call friend, I will place him on top of you. Thus making a sandwich out of freak.”

His words and actions sent coldness around my innards. A cold that burned. I became as vexed as I had in the Nearlyman camp and felt a fury rise within. I directed my stare and thoughts upon Brother Dominic and Jude. I partook of the biggest breath I could, and made a sound low and hard. So deep and sonorous that the windows began to rattle.

Brother Dominic looked around, screwed his faced up in pain and dropped the ultrasonic gun. It crashed to the floor splitting in two. He clasped his hands to the sides of his head and opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

I let forth a final surge of guttural resonance that sent him shooting backwards to the end of the corridor. He hit the wall and fell splat onto the ground. I heard behind and above my head a similar thud and guessed that it was from the slumping of Brother Jude. I stopped and breathed as normal, before taking in more air.

This time, it was a sweet lungful and I let my voice cry out a tune of softness and calm. I did not know what, if any effect it might have upon the stricken, but it felt good to let my voice ring in purity instead of filth.
 

Walking amongst limp arms and legs, I crouched down and touched cold face after cold face. When I came upon Eadgard and Sister Gabriel, I pushed them both onto their backs. I lingered by Eadgard’s mouth, let my ear listen for sounds of his breathing, but heard nowt. I rose, wiped my eyes and stood straight and strong. I looked over the bods that lay so still on the floor and paused.