Monsters of Men

Captain Tate’s flat on his back, an arm twisted across his chest, a bullet hole in his forehead–

“Stop!” I shout, whirling round to see who fired, but all I see are confused faces among the women and men with guns–

And Wilf standing over next to Lee.

And Lee with a rifle in his hands.

“Did I get him?” Lee says. “Wilf aimed for me.”

I look immediately back at the soldiers, all of them heavily armed, all of them still holding their guns–

All of them blinking strangely, like they’re just waking up, some of them looking outright confused–

“I’m not sure they were following him voluntarily,” Bradley says.

“But was it Captain Tate?” I ask. “Or the Mayor through Captain Tate?”

And you can hear the soldier’s Noises getting louder, clearer, as they look at the frightened faces of the people on the hilltop, the faces they were about to fire on–

And you can even hear the worry of the ones at the back as the river rushes perilously close to them.

“We’ve got food,” Mistress Lawson shouts, coming out of the crowd. “And we’ll start making tents for any man who’s lost his home.” She crosses her arms. “Which is all of us now, I reckon.”

And I look at the soldiers and I realize she’s right.

They’re not soldiers any more.

Somehow, they’re just men again.

Lee comes over to me with Wilf, Wilf’s Noise showing him the way. “Are you okay?”

“I am,” I say, seeing myself in Wilf’s Noise and then in Lee’s. “Thank you.”

“Welcome,” Wilf says. “What happens now?”

“The Mayor’s gone to the ocean,” I say. “We need to get there.”

Though with how heavy Acorn is still breathing beneath me, I’m not sure how he’s going to be able to–

Bradley makes a sudden, loud gasping sound and drops Angharrad’s reins, reaching up both hands to the sides of his head, his eyes bulging open wide–

And a sound, a strange, strange sound echoes through his Noise, unintelligible as language or image, just sound–

“Bradley?” I say.

“They’re coming,” Bradley says, in a voice that’s his own but also more, echoing weird and loud across the hilltop, his eyes unfocused and black, not seeing anything before him. “THEY’RE COMING!”

(THE SKY)

What was that? I demand of the Source. What have you done?

I peer deep into his voice, searching for what the sound was–

And I see it there–

And I am too shocked at first to be rightfully angry.

How? I show. How can you do that?

I was speaking the voice, he says, looking dazed. The voice of this world.

Echoing through him is a language not of the Land but not quite of the Clearing either, some deeper combination of the Clearing’s spoken language and the Land’s voice but sent along the Pathways, along new Pathways–

Along Clearing Pathways–

My voice narrows. How?

I think it’s been in us all along, he shows, breathing heavy, but until you opened my voice, we weren’t capable. I think Bradley must be a natural Pathway–

You warned them, I show angrily.

I had to, the Source says. I had no choice.

I raise the acid rifle and point it at him.

If killing me will give you vengeance, he shows, if it’ll stop this march that’s death to us all, then kill me. I’ll gladly make that sacrifice.

And I see in his voice that he tells the truth. I see him thinking of the Knife, of Todd, with that love again, that feeling that will say goodbye if it means saving the Knife, I hear it echoing through him like the information he sent before–

No, I show and lower my weapon. I feel his voice rise in hope. No, I show again, you will come with us and watch their end. I turn away and resume a faster march than before. You will come with us and watch the Knife die.

{VIOLA}

“They’re coming,” Bradley whispers.

“Who?” I say. “The Spackle?”

He nods, still dazed. “All of them,” he says. “Every single one.”

There’s immediate gasping from the people nearest us and the Noise of the men spreads it even faster.

Bradley swallows. “It was Ben. He told me.”

“What? How–?”

“No idea.” He shakes his head. “Did no one else hear it?”

“No,” Lee says. “But who cares, is it true?”

Bradley nods. “I’m sure it is.” He looks at the crowds on the hilltop. “They’re coming to attack.”

“Then we’ve got to put up a defence,” Lee says, already turning to the soldiers, most of them still standing there aimless. “Get back into line! Get that artillery ready! The Spackle are on their way!”

“Lee!” I shout after him. “We can’t even hope to beat that many–”

“No,” he says, turning back, his Noise aiming right at me. “But we can buy you enough time to get to the ocean.”

This stops me.

“Getting the Mayor is the only way this is going to end,” he says. “And you gotta figure Todd has a role in it, too.”

I look at Bradley, desperate. I look around at all the faces on the hilltop, all the ragged, tired faces that have somehow survived this long, through all these trials, waiting to see if this really is their final hour. A thick fog is rapidly spiralling in from the valley below, muffling everything, covering it all in a gauzy white haze, and they stand in it like ghosts.

“Giving them the Mayor could really stop this,” Bradley says.

“But,” I say, looking down at Acorn, who’s still breathing heavy, and I can see the foamy sweat rising up on his flanks. “The horses need rest. They can’t possibly–”

Girl colt, Acorn says, head down at the ground. Go. Go now.

Spackle, Angharrad says, also heaving. Save boy colt.

“Acorn–” I say.

Go NOW, he says again, more strongly.

“Go,” Lee says. “Save Todd. You might save all of us, too.”

I look down at him. “Can you lead an army, Lee?”

“Why not?” he smiles. “Everyone else has had a shot.”

“Lee–” I start to say–

“No need,” he says, reaching out to sort of touch my leg but not quite. “I know.” And then he turns back to the soldiers. “I said get back into line!”