ILLUSIONS AND LIES: Chapter 9

We followed Abigail to one of the large central structures. Once inside I was astounded by what I saw –you might think that by this point I would stop being shocked by the things I was seeing. I hadn’t. There were no windows in this building, and desks lined the walls to each side of me, in neat rows. In the centre of the open space was a conference-like table with twelve chairs around it. And situated a few feet from the far side was a table that ran almost the entire length of the wall, on it was an assortment of equipment which were completely alien to me.

A man who looked to be in his fifties greeted Abigail with familiar enthusiasm. His grey beard flattened against her cheek as he wrapped his arms around her.

Abigail introduced us to her father. Then he introduced us the building’s three other occupants –these four men and women were the leaders of the resistance.

In addition to the grey beard, Abigail’s father (Colonel Andrew Robert Davies, “But you can call me Andy.”) had a full head of grey hair that hung to his shoulders, kind green eyes set in a deeply creased face, and the towering physique of a much younger man than his fifty-something years. The first introduction the Colonel made was to a man by the name of Guy Amarak. Measurably shorter, and with less muscle tone than the Colonel, Guy’s skin was smooth as silk, and the colour of dark chocolate –though, despite his lack of sagging skin, I got the impression he was not much younger than the Colonel. Wise and thoughtful, the browns of his eyes, so dark they were almost black, with flecks of gold through them, and his head was devoid of all hair –by choice or by the cruelty of nature I couldn’t be sure, and wasn’t about to ask.

I shook their hands in turn, and I remember thinking that the Colonel had a remarkably gentle hand for someone with such a commanding presence, while Guy’s hand was firm and confident.

Abigail greeted the two women next, a tear in her eye as she hugged her mother, Mrs Andrew Robert Davies –or “Ruth,” as she declared in a robust tone. A thick woman of considerable height, Ruth was less than imposing. Her light-chestnut hair, peppered with grey, hung in a crude ponytail on the nape of her neck. A friendly smile spread from one side of her face to the other when she addressed us.

“And this shy little lady is Guy’s wife, Sherry Amarak.” Andy announced. The diminutive woman nodded as she approached. “But don’t her size fool you, she’s a firecracker. Scariest woman I ever met.”

Sherry was a tiny thing, both in stature and in frame. Dark lochs flowed down her back in a deluge of glossy ebony, contrasted only slightly by her coffee-coloured skin. With only “You’re such a liar,” to Andy and a brief “Hello, nice to meet you,” to the rest of us, she returned to her previous task at the long table covered in technical-looking equipment.

Abigail and Andy stepped away from us, for a private catch up session, I guess. Ruth excused herself politely and joined them, leaving Richard, the kids, and I with Guy for company.

“This is not what I imagined,” I said to him, looking around.

“We started building this community over twenty years ago. It’s quite something isn’t it?” Guy spoke with reverence, clearly proud of what they’d built.

“I expected something resembling an army camp.”

“That’s how it started out. We fled here when the NDU started hunting our children.” He must have detected my curiosity. “All of us older folk here are the parents of kids like you, Charlie. All except Gavin and his band of merry men, that is.”

“Band of merry men?”

“That’s what we call them, though they’re not all men. They used to be employees of the NDU, until the NDU decided to start killing innocent children. Then Gavin and a few others defected, helped us escape. Majority of us wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for them. You’ll meet Gavin soon enough, he’ll tell you his story. If you want to hear it, that is.” Guy gestured us toward the opulent table setting in the centre of the room. “Come. Sit. You must be weary.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“So, Charlie, what’s your story?” he said as we sat. “They tell me you’re the missing link?”

“Missing link to what, exactly?” I was suddenly terrified that something grand was expected of me. I wasn’t here to save the world, only my children.

“Don’t look so worried, girl. I’m messin’ with ya. But you are the last one. Most everyone else here have been here for years. The last time a new gifted joined us was about eight years back. Richard and Abigail have been looking for you since then.”

I shot Richard a scrutinizing glare. “He found me…” I left the sentence hanging, not sure if divulging the fact that he’d found me three years ago would get him in some kind of trouble.

“I found her a couple of years ago, Guy. But she was happy, and not in any danger. I chose to stay and watch over her rather than uproot her life. Besides, I wasn’t ready to share her.” He winked at me.

“Yes. I know. Abigail reported to us as soon as you told her Charlie was found.”

“Is Andy pissed?”

“No. She was safe enough with the two of you close by.”

“Um, you can stop talking about me as though I’m not here. Better still, stop talking about me as though I’m a little kid.”

Both Richard and Guy ignored my indignation, instead Guy offered to take us on a tour of the community, though Richard needed no such tour.

“I assume you’ll be bunking with Richard? He can show you his place later. I want to show you how this place works.”

It wasn’t much of a tour, but it was interesting. First we saw the second of the two main buildings –it was a communal hall. They held community meetings there, sometimes community dinners and parties, and it doubled as the school and hospital. A hospital was hardly needed in a community full of healers, however, Guy said, the non-gifted still needed a place for treatment and recovery. According to Guy, the sick-bay cots were used an average of once a year.

Then we got to the interesting part of this little tour.

When we had come through the tunnel-staircase we had exited beside the waterfall. Now we stood by the river, at the head of the waterfall. A squarish mound pressed into the rock, by the riverbank, where the waterfall began its decent. The mound was covered by hessian potato sacks, to camouflage it. Guy pulled back the sacks to reveal an unfamiliar metal-cased device.

“What is that?” Bailey’s voiced inquisitiveness before I had a chance to consider what this thing could be.

“This is a power generator, young man. See this rod here,” Guy pointed to a thick shaft running from the generator into the fast-flowing water. “That’s attached to a water wheel. Do you know what a water wheel is, young man?”

“No. But you’re gonna tell me, aren’t you, Sir.”

“Yes. It’s like a fan but made of much stronger material. It goes in the water, the water turns it, and this generator takes that motion and turns it into electricity.”

Guy watched Bailey process the concept before changing the subject to something that even had Sarah’s ears pricking with interest.

“How would you kids like to check out the playground? Come on.”

They whooped in excited agreement and followed him through the trees back toward the community hall.

“I guess he saved the best for last?” I commented to Richard, as we trailed Guy and two very eager children.

“He certainly did. It’s pretty amazing.”

The community hall was in the front of the, let’s call it the tactic building, I think that’s what Abigail muttered as she led us to it upon arrival. We’d come around the tactic building on the North side, the same side as the river, so none of us had noticed the rope-bridges and cubby-houses in the trees.

As Bailey and Sarah rounded the corner in front of Richard and I delighted squeals peeled beneath the trees. By the time I got round there, which was only a matter of seconds, Bailey was already crossing a rope-bridge between two tree-houses, and Sarah was making good headway on a rope-ladder. Richard had really undersold the playground to me –this was amazing.

There were five tree-houses in total, connecting every which way by a series of rope-bridges. There were rope-ladders and timber ladders for the children to access the tree-houses, and between three of the trees that accommodated the tree-houses were a web of ropes in one stretch, and a jungle-gym type structure in the other. Between the other trees were a total of six swings, hanging from sturdy beams that had been fixed into the trunks.

Guy played well with the kids, like he was one of them. He offered to keep them entertained while we went and talked grown-up talk with Andy. Not knowing Guy for more than five minutes, I looked to Richard for my cue to whether I should trust him.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Richard said. “Hey kids, me and your mother are going to talk to Andy, do you want to stay here for bit and play?”

A short chorus of “Yes,” and they went about their games again.

“You have nothing to worry about here. It’s like one big family,” Richard assured me, when he saw me looking over my shoulder as we walked away.