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Authors: Justin Woolley
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prisoners. They weren’t being treated as roughly as they would by the Holy Order, but Squid had to keep reminding himself they were being taken to Reach against their will and being denied access to the vaccine they had found. Well-treated prisoners, but prisoners just the same.
After a time – Squid was sure it had been many hours longer than the outgoing journey – their lamplight fell on the end of the tunnel. The blue line continued up a set of stairs, beside which was another of the faded metal signs that could occasionally be found fixed to the tunnel walls with rusted nails. Squid hadn’t seen this sign when they’d first left the outpost.
Australian Center for Disease Control
Monitoring Outpost Seven
They climbed the stairs, the world growing lighter as they moved toward the surface. Reaching the top step, Squid looked around at the familiar interior of the arched concrete outpost building. It was dank and gloomy but still a relief from the mind-penetrating darkness of the tunnels. Squid noticed the space on the wall where the lantern they had carried once hung. He wondered again what had happened to those who had taken the other lamps down into the dark. Though, after journeying all the way to Big Smoke and being bitten himself he supposed he had a much better idea of their fate than most people. If his key hadn’t opened the door into the dome they wouldn’t have returned either. As it was they had left two of their own back there, dead, changed, and alone in Big Smoke.
Ernest, who was leading the way, opened the door to the outside. Squid followed the patrolmen out but bumped into the man in front of him when he stopped abruptly.
“Wh—?” Squid began to ask, but then he looked up and saw. Surrounding them, encircling the entrance to the building with their weapons raised, were twenty or thirty red-cloaked clergymen of the Holy Order.
CHAPTER 8
“What is this?” Ernest said. The men of the Reach Border Patrol raised their shotguns, a stand-off between the ambushers and the ambushed.
One of the clergymen stepped forward to confront Ernest. Squid recognized him from Pitt. It was Clergy-Lieutenant Werther, the man who had first led them down into the bowels of the prison. Werther was a small man, constantly pushing his shoulders back and standing tall in order to appear larger than he was. Squid had never bothered trying to seem bigger; somehow it always just exaggerated how small he was.
“You are outnumbered,” Werther said. “I would advise lowering your weapons.”
Ernest glanced at the Holy Order clergymen around them as if to check the man’s claim before raising his hand and making a downward waving motion. The men from Reach lowered their shotguns but kept them ready at their sides or across their bodies, tense and fidgety.
“You are harboring fugitives,” Clergy-Lieutenant Werther said.
Ernest looked back at Squid and Nim, his face unreadable, before returning his gaze to the lieutenant. He shook his head. “Not our fugitives.”
“These two escaped imprisonment at Pitt. I demand, in the name of High Priestess Patricia of the Church of Glorious God the Redeemer, that you return them to our custody. We also demand you hand over any weapon against the ghouls you might have found in there. We know that’s why you went into the city.”
Ernest’s eyebrows rose in genuine surprise before dropping in a scowl. “You’re a long way outside your fence, mate,” Ernest said. “Your church has no sway here. Even if these boys did find something, I ain’t giving you either of those things.”
Werther lifted his chin. “It doesn’t matter how far we are from home. God has dominion over all.”
“God?” Ernest chuckled. “Look around you. There’s no God here. This is the wasteland. There’s nothing but dry earth and suckers.”
“It is all part of God’s plan,” Werther said. “Mankind is being punished for the sins of the Ancestors. Only the pure will survive to
After a time – Squid was sure it had been many hours longer than the outgoing journey – their lamplight fell on the end of the tunnel. The blue line continued up a set of stairs, beside which was another of the faded metal signs that could occasionally be found fixed to the tunnel walls with rusted nails. Squid hadn’t seen this sign when they’d first left the outpost.
Australian Center for Disease Control
Monitoring Outpost Seven
They climbed the stairs, the world growing lighter as they moved toward the surface. Reaching the top step, Squid looked around at the familiar interior of the arched concrete outpost building. It was dank and gloomy but still a relief from the mind-penetrating darkness of the tunnels. Squid noticed the space on the wall where the lantern they had carried once hung. He wondered again what had happened to those who had taken the other lamps down into the dark. Though, after journeying all the way to Big Smoke and being bitten himself he supposed he had a much better idea of their fate than most people. If his key hadn’t opened the door into the dome they wouldn’t have returned either. As it was they had left two of their own back there, dead, changed, and alone in Big Smoke.
Ernest, who was leading the way, opened the door to the outside. Squid followed the patrolmen out but bumped into the man in front of him when he stopped abruptly.
“Wh—?” Squid began to ask, but then he looked up and saw. Surrounding them, encircling the entrance to the building with their weapons raised, were twenty or thirty red-cloaked clergymen of the Holy Order.
CHAPTER 8
“What is this?” Ernest said. The men of the Reach Border Patrol raised their shotguns, a stand-off between the ambushers and the ambushed.
One of the clergymen stepped forward to confront Ernest. Squid recognized him from Pitt. It was Clergy-Lieutenant Werther, the man who had first led them down into the bowels of the prison. Werther was a small man, constantly pushing his shoulders back and standing tall in order to appear larger than he was. Squid had never bothered trying to seem bigger; somehow it always just exaggerated how small he was.
“You are outnumbered,” Werther said. “I would advise lowering your weapons.”
Ernest glanced at the Holy Order clergymen around them as if to check the man’s claim before raising his hand and making a downward waving motion. The men from Reach lowered their shotguns but kept them ready at their sides or across their bodies, tense and fidgety.
“You are harboring fugitives,” Clergy-Lieutenant Werther said.
Ernest looked back at Squid and Nim, his face unreadable, before returning his gaze to the lieutenant. He shook his head. “Not our fugitives.”
“These two escaped imprisonment at Pitt. I demand, in the name of High Priestess Patricia of the Church of Glorious God the Redeemer, that you return them to our custody. We also demand you hand over any weapon against the ghouls you might have found in there. We know that’s why you went into the city.”
Ernest’s eyebrows rose in genuine surprise before dropping in a scowl. “You’re a long way outside your fence, mate,” Ernest said. “Your church has no sway here. Even if these boys did find something, I ain’t giving you either of those things.”
Werther lifted his chin. “It doesn’t matter how far we are from home. God has dominion over all.”
“God?” Ernest chuckled. “Look around you. There’s no God here. This is the wasteland. There’s nothing but dry earth and suckers.”
“It is all part of God’s plan,” Werther said. “Mankind is being punished for the sins of the Ancestors. Only the pure will survive to
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