The Detainee Read online

  There was a pause, then Gordie reluctantly nodded. I mean, I’d already forbidden them to carry machetes—only clubs or baseball bats—and I think they were still smarting over that.

  “Never again!” I emphasized. “Not for any reason.”

  “Okay, okay!” he said, like I was some overreacting parent.

  Bailey shook his head, as if he thought we shouldn’t let them get away with it, but Delilah tried to tug Arturo into an embrace. For once he wouldn’t let her, making a point of standing on his own, like a child on his first day of school not wanting to be labeled a handmaiden by his peers.

  Finally, all of us were assembled and ready to go. The old soldiers unable to stop themselves from forming into a couple of lines, the kids looking like they were off to a party; especially Hannah, who had gotten hold of some silver paper and wrapped it around her baseball bat so it looked like a giant wand. I looked to a couple of people, wondering why they weren’t moving off, then realized everyone was waiting on me.

  It was kind of embarrassing. I already told you, I take orders, not give them. However, that seemed to be what they wanted, so what else could I do? I turned, was just about to lead them away, when I noticed Jimmy wasn’t with us.

  “Where the hell’s the little guy?” I muttered to Delilah.

  “Sorry, Clancy,” she replied. “Still in his workshop.”

  I was just going to send one of the kids down to get him when he appeared from the other direction; from the garden.

  “Jimmy!” I groaned.

  “Okay, okay!” he said. “I’m ready.”

  Just for a moment it went through my head that maybe he’d been thinking about not going. That he’d actually prefer to take his chances down in the tunnels, in his precious workshop, than be any part of a venture I was leading.

  We still hadn’t made up. In fact, what with me getting all this ready, and him presumably working on his computer, I’d barely seen him. But I still couldn’t believe he’d let me down. Jimmy was a major part of things and he knew it. Tell the truth, it kind of undermined me. Not that I was about to show it, not to him or anyone else. Instead, I took a deep breath, and with one last look around me, like a general surprised at just how many troops went to make up an army, I led everyone off in the direction of the entrance.

  I can’t tell you how strange it felt emerging into that foggy night. Not just cuz of where we were going, but also cuz of what we were leaving behind. I made a point of closing the door behind us, but wondered why. I mean, whatever was going to happen, it wasn’t likely we’d ever return. I glanced across at Lena. Even in the dull blending of darkness and fog I could see she was thinking the same thing. I moved a little closer, gave her arm a squeeze, just to let her know I understood. That place had been her home for years. It meant nothing less than life. Now she was leaving it behind forever. The garden, the living area, everything she’d worked so hard to create, abandoned down there in the darkness. For some reason it made me think of Ethel Weiss; her suitcase in the wall. Is that what was going to happen to us? Sometime in the future someone was going to stumble on the tunnels, find our things, and wonder what happened to our bid for freedom?

  Slowly we picked our way through the ruins of the Old City, our collective footsteps sounding dully on the ground. I’ve been a part of some odd gangs in my time, but never anything like that; old folks staggering along with boxes of Molotov cocktails as if they’d just come back from doing their weekly shopping; kids looking like they’d just stepped out of some weird fairy tale. At one point Gordie whacked Arturo for giggling, which resulted in a loud cry of protest. It’s moments like those you realize they are just kids, and to be honest, I could well do without them. I was about to drop back and give them a piece of my mind, but Bailey beat me to it, angrily hissing something into their faces that instantly shut them up.

  Lena, of course, was in the lead. Getting along in her customary fashion, not on foot, but by something like “all-possibility tracks.” The Wastelords might’ve created a hell of a mess, demolishing everything, clearing the rubble, but that meant more of a problem for us than her. She just reacted in her usual manner: last-moment changes of direction, of step and height, and no map in her head to confuse her.

  As we were crossing the square, she suddenly stopped, her head cocked as if she heard something, and panic rippled back through the group till all of us were frozen there like a Wasteland of statues.

  I strained to get my old eyes to pierce the fog, wondering if maybe the Wastelords had left someone on watch up here after all, though surely they wouldn’t have stayed once the fog fell?

  Eventually Lena nodded her head, touched me on the arm, and moved forward. “They’re up ahead,” she whispered.

  “Who?”

  “Gordie’s friends.”

  To be honest I was a little surprised. I mean, Gordie had sworn they’d be there, waiting at the top of the hill, but I certainly hadn’t been counting on it. He made this hissing noise with his teeth and soon someone called softly to us from out of the fog.

  “Gordie?”

  “Yeah.”

  I’ll tell you, to rendezvous with that bunch, to suddenly see them materializing out of the fog, just like our kids, all dressed and made up, was not a comforting experience. And the fact that there were rather more than we’d been expecting, though gratifying, also made it that much more intimidating. If they’d turned on us, if they’d attacked us then and there, I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised.

  “This is Gigi,” Gordie told me, forcing himself to make introductions, maybe cuz he could see how ill at ease I was.

  I nodded at what I quickly realized was a girl; all dirt, tangled hair, and seagull feathers, but she gave me a surprisingly broad smile.

  “Hi.”

  There was just a moment of hesitation while everyone looked at one another, the dawning realization of just how disparate a band we all were, but I was anxious to keep going. I mean, if anyone’s going to question my leadership, now’s the time for them to do it.

  “Let’s go,” I said, Lena following as I led them away. And you wanna know something? That almost made me burst out into a smile? Man, woman, and child—damned if they didn’t all tag along behind.

  The plan—if you wanted to call it that—was that, when we got down into the sorting area, we’d split into three groups: Jimmy, Delilah, and the kids were going to blow the drugs warehouse; Bailey and his old soldiers would toss all the Molotovs they had into the Wastelords’ shacks; and, in what we hoped would be chaos, Lena and I were going to enter the main house to settle with De Grew.

  I mean, I knew it was pretty flimsy, but with what we had available, it was the best I could come up with. And anyways, it’s like I said, it’d be how the kids in the Camp reacted that’d decide the thing. If what Gordie said was true; there were others who’d join us once it got started, we had to hope the majority would get swept along with them. On the other hand, maybe they’d see their precious drugs going up in flames and chop us up and leave us for the rats.

  We began to descend toward the Camp. So far we hadn’t seen or heard a thing. In fact, the silence was so heavy, it made the fog seem that bit thicker. In places you couldn’t even see where you were putting your feet, you had to just thrust them out in front of you, into nothing, and hope they eventually made contact with something solid. One of the old soldiers slipped and fell heavily, a real resonating thump that made you think he must’ve broken something, but he got up and moved on, proudly ignoring the concern of those around him.

  Soon the ground began to level out and Lena turned toward the sorting area and the new garbage. This time she didn’t have to tell me when we were nearing it, as my senses were once again assaulted; I had that same rush of memories, mugged by nostalgia. Behind me I heard some of the Villagers getting carried away, becoming all excited, and I had to tell them to keep it down.

  A few minutes later we parted company with Jimmy, Delilah, and the kids. They l
ooked so damn pathetic heading off into the fog. A little bent old man; a long, twisted stick of a woman; Arturo; Gordie; a gang of children; and several boxes of homemade tricks—off to destroy the most prized possessions of the Wastelords. If it wasn’t for the fact that all the missions were suicidal, I would’ve insisted on swapping with them.

  No farewells were exchanged, no wishes of good luck, but I remained where I was until the fog completely embraced them, the thought that I might never ever see any of them again having to be repeatedly evicted from my mind.

  Bailey and his old soldiers accompanied us up the slope toward the Wastelords’ complex, then peeled off along the path to the lower level, many of them still insisting on marching, on holding formation.

  Now it was just Lena and me, all alone in that vast, gray emptiness. For a moment we just stood there, feeling the ache of our place in the night, almost too daunted to go on, then she tugged at my arm.

  “Come on,” she whispered.

  She led me through a storage area, with lots of old oil drums and wooden crates strewn around, occasionally stopping, sniffing, and listening, switching over to her different map. Which was just as well, cuz halfway up the hill we met a couple of Wastelords coming down.

  She had just enough time to get us hidden before they appeared out of the fog, angrily muttering to each other, grumbling about something someone had said to them.

  They were almost by us and away when it occurred to me that they might be going over to relieve the guards at the drugs warehouse and could stumble on Jimmy and the kids. In an instant I leapt out, swung that big-bladed bar of mine, and cracked the nearest one across the back of the head. The other guy turned, so shocked all he could do was to try to run. He got about half a dozen paces before he stumbled and fell. Lena was on him before I was. I told you she’s strong, but in that moment it seemed like more. She jerked his head back, drove it into the ground; one movement and he was gone.

  “Jesus!” was all I could say.

  We dragged the two of them aside, threw garbage on their bodies, then continued up the hill. Below us, over to our right, a stifled cry echoed out of the fog. I don’t know, it could’ve been anything, but it was in the region of Bailey and his group. We waited, but there was nothing more, so moved on.

  It was strange. I could feel the old adrenaline starting to surge through me. I was a little more nervous than I used to be, more aware of the dangers, but I could handle it all right. In fact, I was almost beginning to enjoy myself.

  A few minutes later, Lena put a hand on my arm and I realized we’d arrived. To my right there was a huge dark clot in the fog and something black and substantial looming out of the murk.

  “Can you see it?” she asked.

  “Yeah . . . I see it.”

  Crouching low, she felt her way over to a woodpile and we squatted down behind it, not twenty yards from the house. We’d arrived. We were in place. Now all we had to do was wait for Jimmy.

  Neither of us mentioned it, but I knew she had to be as worried about his part in this as I was. I mean, the little guy ain’t anyone’s idea of an action hero. Nor did we have a clue what he was up against over there. ’Course, he had all the kids with him, but, in truth, they were something of an unknown quantity. This wasn’t getting all drugged up and butchering helpless old people, this was going clearheaded up against strong and mean young men they’d always regarded as their masters. Who knew how they’d react?

  Five minutes went by. Then five that seemed like ten. Then five that seemed to have hitched themselves to eternity. I was making these funny little breathy noises, like I was cold and shivering, but really it was just nerves. A door slammed somewhere inside the house. A man shouted. I wondered if it was him—De Grew—but there was no reaction from Lena, so I guess not.

  The only thing she hadn’t been able to tell me was if he’d be alone or not. Apparently, some nights he’d have a gang up here; drinking, watching a movie, playing cards, fooling around. Other times he got all mean and spiteful, picking on people, trying to start fights, throwing them out and taking out his rage on some kid. That was one of the reasons why we had to wait for Jimmy to blow up the warehouse, to flush out whoever was in there. That is, if he ever managed it.

  “Come on, Jimmy,” I urged.

  “Give him time,” Lena reassured me. “He’ll do it.”

  I couldn’t imagine for one moment that she was that confident. It was only a hundred and fifty yards or so to the warehouse from where we’d last seen him. He should’ve been there ages ago. What the hell was keeping him?

  “Think about the house,” Lena told me.

  “What?”

  “The layout! What I told you! Forget about Jimmy.”

  She was right. Go over everything she’d told me; get it fixed in my head one last time. Hit the front door, kick it open, everything to my right: people, chairs, maybe a movie showing. If there were Wastelords, that’s where they’d be. Maybe a few kids, too, for “entertainment” purposes. If De Grew wasn’t there, it was straight ahead, through the door in the corner into his bedroom.

  ’Course, she gave me a detailed description of him as she last knew him: thickset, blond hair, beard, a large face with hard and heavy cheekbones. I mean, if only one person dies tonight, it has to be him.

  Suddenly the door opened, there was a momentary glow of light, a heavy masculine shape, then it closed again and footsteps approached. Lena and me crouched lower, but whoever it was passed by and took the path down the hill. I tell you, I was starting to panic. For all we knew he was also on his way over to the drugs warehouse. Jimmy must’ve screwed up. He was supposed to have given us ten minutes to get up the hill and get in place. It was more like half an hour now.

  “Stay here,” I said to Lena, getting up.

  “Where you going?” she asked.

  “Something’s gone wrong.”

  “No!”

  She shouted after me as loudly as she dared, but I was off, tripping and stumbling through the fog, making my way back down the slope. I knew I was panicking, but I had every right. We had to blow that damn warehouse; nothing was going to happen until we did.

  I got about a hundred and fifty yards, maybe more, it’s hard to say, when suddenly there was an explosion below me. One, then another. And then a really huge one, like something else had been ignited. An orange glow erupted across the fog like it was burning a hole in it. I immediately stopped, realizing what a stupid mistake I’d made. I should be outside the house now. It was at this point I was supposed to have gone in to tackle De Grew. I turned and started to run back up the hill, cursing myself the whole way.

  When I got back to the house, I couldn’t find Lena. I started searching around, whispering her name into the fog, calling out for her. Where the hell was she? What had happened? Then I heard shouts coming from inside and realized she was already in there.

  I rushed in after her, finding myself in the main room. One look was enough to know what had happened. The warehouse had gone up, no one had stirred in the house, so she’d assumed there were no Wastelords and entered. Trouble was, they were so stupefied by drugs, it had taken them a while to react and she’d walked in to find herself surrounded. There were eight or nine of them. Not De Grew, but they had her backed up against the wall, a couple brandishing machetes, the rest just jeering and taunting. They were relishing her blindness, her vulnerability, and she was swinging her club back and forth, daring them to come any closer.

  “Come on! Come on!” she snarled, but they just continued to mock her.

  Even after all this time, all these years, I still did what I always used to: just let everything go. All my emotions, my feelings, anything to do with self-control, I let them all go and released whatever it is that lies beneath. Roaring with anger, leaping in among them, swinging at everyone in sight. I cracked one on the side of the head, accidentally took out their video screen trying to get another, then managed to fend off a machete and received a blow to the ribs for my
trouble. They were so distracted by me, Lena got in a really good shot on this guy and he went to the floor like he’d never get up again.

  Only problem was, that seemed to ignite whatever it was they’d been taking. As if, up till then, it had only been playing with their minds, but now saw an opportunity to truly express itself. They began screaming and snarling at us, making evil threats. They were going to rip out our organs with their bare hands, stuff our still-beating hearts into our own mouths. And the things they said to Lena, just cuz she’s a woman, a blind one at that, made you feel sick. One of them even lunged at her, laughing as he made an upward sweep with his machete, as if he was going to cut her open from vagina to mouth. She stepped back instinctively but didn’t really understand, couldn’t even guess at the threat.

  I tell you, I was so damn repulsed, so furious, that when he tried it again I was on him in an instant, wielding that big iron bar of mine smack into his cheek as hard as I could, with all the disgust he’d aroused in me pushing me on.

  In an instant another one came at me, this look in his eyes, as if he believed nothing in the world could stop him, that the drugs had made him invulnerable. I stepped to one side, hit him so hard on the knee it must’ve shattered his kneecap and as he buckled over, shoved the blade into his back. I mean, you can’t mess around. Not in a situation like this.

  I thought that might be it, that they’d give up, but I hadn’t reckoned with the one guy who always wants to prove he can succeed where others fail. He was a little older than the rest, with a heavy scar across his face that gleamed shiny and red as he advanced upon me, whirling his machete like a propeller. I just stayed where I was, as if exhausted from swinging my big metal bar, the blade end resting on the floor. Then, once he got in range, I suddenly swung the bar up, driving the blade into that soft gap between his legs.