The Levitating Village
Chapter Fourteen - The Troponaut
I was pretty sure in his current state Marshall wouldn’t hesitate to complete his threat. And if he wasn’t up to the task, his rabid bulldog of a son would certainly carry it out. This was all pretty much academic, as we would escape in a few minutes. But that was before I had a metaphorical bombshell drop on my slightly balding head. After our jaunt around the corridors of the Bunker, we eventually came outing the large room where I had been subjected to the history lesson. The Professor was sat at a desk sifting through papers, nonchalant to everything that was going on around him. Of the Marshalls there was no sign. Lana lost no time and ran to the Professor, taking him by surprise. They embraced as all close relatives do. Then they kissed. With tongues.
Wait a minute. That’s a bit close? Perhaps - they were a progressive family? I think I tasted a bit of sick at the back of my throat.
“Nice to see you two, erm, missed each other so much?” I managed.
Lana broke off the intimacy and stood arm in arm with the professor, she with a broad grin, “I’m sorry, Doug. I think I mislead you a bit. Leith isn’t my Granddad. He’s my Husband.”
“Right -” Uhuh.
Lana shrugged, “I admit there’s a bit of an age gap, which is why I lied. I thought if you knew the truth you would never have helped me.”
I stared at her, obviously hurt and betrayed, “That shows how little you really know me. It wouldn’t have mattered to me. But you lied. For that I will never forgive you.”
Bradburn spoke up, “I’m sorry too, Douglas. Although I wasn’t aware of this subterfuge, I must take responsibility for the lie also. I knew my sweet Lana would have done anything for me.”
I sighed, “I’m not disputing the loyalty. Look. You tricked me for an opportunity I would have fulfilled even if you had told me the truth. If you lied about that, how do I know Marshall isn’t going to come walking out that door with a smile on his face and mock clapping my involvement?” I think we all looked to the door, in case my words had been prophetic.
Lana looked at me equally hurt, “Shows how little you know me.”
“Touché.” I said, with all the sarcasm I could muster.
“This is all charming and such, but don’t you think we should get out of danger before we continue this argument?” said the Professor, ever the logical realist. The path was clear. The door to exit by looked the same on this side as it did on the other side; red and thick. Except on this side it could be opened.
After we pushed through and into the Hotel’s ruins, which were part of the Village cleansing also, we made our escape unhindered across the grounds. I spared a thought for Mrs Marshall. She must have been inside when it went up. But perhaps it was a mercy. Unfortunately I didn't have the time to reflect on it. There would be time enough to mourn when this whole thing was over. Right now, there was a larger imperative.
We had paused then for Lana to get her bearings. While she did, she felt she needed to explain further, “I’m looking for where the Convent is. As far as I know, it was where that thick copse of trees now stands, on the outer fairway.”
There were higher things at steak here than deceit, lies and old people sex; there was the responsibility to survive. This was what drove me on. With only the odd cursory glance back to check the happy, if odd, couple were still following. Boy, did this put a dampener on things. The path to the exit had been easier than expected. We had seen no sign of either of the Marshall clan all the way up here. There were no complicated corridors, no dead ends. My feet ached like they had been slashed with rusty hooks over the soles and chillies wedged in the wounds, with a garnish of salt. I couldn’t help but think of Dennis Heath, one of the poor victims in this entire debacle. He had obviously been an inconvenience and was despatched thusly. The motivation was now for those who had been innocently caught up in this den of ubiquitous foulness. Not evil. Evil would suggest a premeditated course of action that was never deviated from or regretted. I sensed that this Village had done it this way because it seemed to them the natural course of events. It was the way of small communities. They often believed themselves to hold their own law and blameable cause. Sentence was usually carried out within the same parameters. If this was an evil act, then all the way back to the communal pack mentality of our earliest ancestors would be evil. But it isn’t. It's survival. It’s protecting your tribe. By whatever means. They couldn’t be condemned for simply doing what they’re genetically programmed to do.
Lana pointed in the direction of a shadowed area canopied by green thick leaves. I stomped off in that direction, leaving the couple behind a little. I couldn’t help remind myself of all the flirting Lana had done, and the kissing. Oh how easy it is to deceive and hurt. Pennies for a kiss. It had been perpetrated throughout history to horny and gullible men. I was just a small cog in the great masterplan of the female of the species. But hey, given the same circumstances, would I have done the same? For the sake of someone I loved, I think I would. So I couldn’t really blame Lana for doing something I might have done myself in desperation. The Professor may have had only days to live if I hadn’t turned up with my big clomping feet into this huge bear trap.
The trees were low and closed in. There was a thick sap smell, cloying and thick, and making the walk even tougher. We exited into a clearing, about twenty foot by twenty foot. Even the ground here was lacking in vegetation. That which survived was mainly the hardiest of weeds that would grow on the central reservation of a motorway. There was a familiarity to the outlying area, if one challenged by time. This was the plague pit.
I scrabbled around the overgrowth of weeds, turning up various small pieces of stone that if viewed from above would most likely look like the remains of an ecclesiastical building. After a bit more scratching, I found it. There was a small squared lump of rock. It had an inscription on it. With a little effort, I read, ‘Here lay the Sisters of the Order of the Sacred Place. Here is the spot from where it shall be revealed.’ I had found it. But that sense of accomplishment was short lived.
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