Monsters of Men (Page 110)

For the first time I notice how weird his voice sounds, like it ain’t entirely his own no more, all echoey and strange.

“This world, because I’ve noticed it, because I’ve studied it,” he continues, “has warped me out of recognition from the proud and strong man I used to be.” He stops at my feet. “War makes monsters of men, you once said to me, Todd. Well, so does too much knowledge. Too much knowledge of your fellow man, too much knowledge of his weakness, his pathetic greed and vanity, and how laughably easy it is to control him.”

He gives a sour chuckle. “You know, Todd, it’s only the stupid who can truly handle Noise. The sensitive, the smart, people like you and me, we suffer by it. And people like us have to control people like them. For their own good and ours.”

He drifts off, looking at nothing. I strain harder at the ropes.

“You did transform me, Todd,” he says again. “You made me better. But only enough to see how bad I actually was. I never knew until I compared myself to you, Todd. I thought I was doing good.” He stops over me. “Until you showed me otherwise.”

“You were bad from the beginning,” I say. “I didn’t do nothing.”

“Oh, but you did, Todd,” he says. “That was the hum you felt in your head, the hum that connected us. It was the good in me, the good you made me see. Something I could only see through you.” His eyes go blacker. “And then Ben arrived and you were going to take it away. You let me glimpse a goodness I’d never be able to grasp on my own, and for that sin, Todd Hewitt, for that sin of self-knowledge.”

He reaches down and starts untying my leg.

“One of us is going to have to die,” he says.

{VIOLA}

Angharrad feels different than Acorn, broader, stronger, faster, but still I worry.

“Please be okay,” I whisper, not even to her, knowing it won’t do any good.

Because she just says Boy colt and runs even faster.

We press on through more trees as the hills begin to flatten out and lower down closer to the river, which I see more and more often to my left, wide and rushing over a flooded riverbank.

But I don’t see the ocean, just more trees and more trees again. The snow remains thick, coming down in fat flakes, twisting through the air and starting to leave noticeable drifts even in fairly dense forest.

And as the daylight starts to fade, I get a sick feeling in my heart at not knowing what’s happened on the hilltop, what’s happened to Bradley, what’s happened to Todd at the ocean ahead–

And then, all at once, there it is–

Through a break in the trees, close enough to see the waves crashing, close enough to see docks on a small harbour with abandoned buildings and there, sitting among them, the scout ship–

And it disappears behind more trees–

But we’re nearly there. We’re nearly there.

“Hang on, Todd,” I say. “Hang on.”

[TODD]

“It’s gonna be you,” I say, as he unties my other leg. “It’s gonna be you who dies.”

“You know what, Todd?” he says, his voice low. “A part of me hopes you’re right.”

I keep still till he unties my right hand and then I take a swing at him but he’s already backing away towards the opening out to the beach, watching me free my other hand with an amused look on his face.

“I’ll be waiting for you, Todd,” he says, stepping outside.

I try to send a VIOLA at him but I’m still feeling weak and he don’t take any notice before disappearing. I pull at the final knots and I’m free and I leap off the table and have to take a groggy minute to catch my balance but then I’m moving, moving out thru the opening–

Onto the freezing cold beach beyond.

The first thing I see is a row of broken-down houses, some of ’em nothing more than piles of wood and sand, with a few concrete ones like the chapel lasting a bit better. To the north of me, I can see a road heading off into the woods, the road that no doubt goes all the way back to New Prentisstown tho it’s covered in a rushing, overflowing river before it gets any further than the second tree.

The snow is really coming down fast now and the wind has picked up, too. The cold cuts thru my uniform like a stab with a steely knife and I clutch the jacket closer around me.

And then I turn towards the ocean–

Oh my God–

It’s effing huge.

Bigger than anything possible, stretching outta sight not just towards the horizon but north and south, too, like an endlessness that’s set itself down on yer doorstep, waiting to swallow you up the second you turn yer back. The snow don’t have no effect on it neither. The ocean just keeps on churning, like it wants to fight you, like the waves are punches it’s throwing to try and knock you down.

And there’s creachers in it. Even in the frothy and muddy waters churning on the shore, even in the spray and foam from the river crashing into it to the north of me, even then you can see shadows moving in the water–

Big shadows–

“Quite something, isn’t it?” I hear.

The Mayor’s voice.

I whip round. He ain’t nowhere to be seen. I turn round again slowly. I’m noticing there’s a bit of sand-covered concrete beneath my feet, like this used to be a little square or walk along the beach or something, something that came outta the front of the chapel a long time ago where people could sit in the sun.

Except I’m here now and I’m effing freezing.

“SHOW YERSELF, YOU COWARD!” I shout.

“Oh, cowardice is one thing you could never accuse me of, Todd.” His voice again but sounding like it’s coming from somewhere else.

“THEN WHY ARE YOU HIDING?” I shout, turning again, crossing my arms hard against the cold. We’re both gonna die if we stay out here.

And then I see the scout ship, down the beach, parked by itself, waiting–

“I wouldn’t try, Todd,” the voice comes again. “You’d be dead before you reached it.”

I turn round one more time. “YER ARMY AIN’T COMING, IS IT?” I shout. “THAT’S WHAT YOU MEANT ABOUT MR TATE FAILING YOU! HE AIN’T COMING!”

“Correct, Todd,” the Mayor says and this time the voice sounds different.

It sounds like a real voice spoken across a real area.

I whirl round again–

And there he is, by the corner of one of the wrecked wooden houses.

“How do you know?” I say, flexing my Noise, getting myself ready.