GRAVE DIGGERS - Part X (Finale)

I can't even begin to explain the chain of events that prevented me from making this post over the weekend.

The biggest obstacle, though, was the simple fact that after I re-read the original ending...I didn't like it. At all. I did remind myself that it's been three years since I first wrote Grave Diggers, and my writing style has grown and changed since then. It makes perfect sense that the ending doesn't make as much sense as it did before. So, I took the time to re-write Part X, and I'm much happier with it. 

If any of the wonderful people who beta-read this novella for me have been following it's progress here on the blog, they'll notice that the key elements of the ending are still the same. It's how everything ties together that needed to be changed.

Despite all the delays, I hope everyone has enjoyed reading Grave Diggers! Fun fact: I actually have a sequel outlined and ready to be written, but I put it on the back burner in order to focus on my story published in Carolina Crimes, and Book Project #1 (Tom's Story). Keeping that in mind, if there is any interest in seeing the story continue here on the blog (for free!), please let me know!  

*Please note, this final chapter of Grave Diggers does contain some violence.*    

Thank you again, to everyone who has tuned in these last ten weeks as I've shared this story!

*****

GRAVE DIGGERS

Part X:


Desi:

Puck and Desi were led down a short hallway and through another door. The office they entered was massive, with a ceiling that extended high up into the next level of the building. The same utilitarian polymer tiles that made up the interior of The Titan lined the floor, and all of the windows were shuttered by thick metal shades. A screen dominated the opposite wall, with the most advanced computer panel Desi had ever seen installed at its base. The panels themselves were mounted onto a raised platform that also housed a metal desk and wide-backed chair.

Sitting at the desk was a well-dressed man. His silver-fox hair was swept back from a face that would have been handsome if it wasn't dominated by razor-like cheekbones and narrow hazel eyes. They were Puck’s own eyes set into a different face. 

“That will be all.” The man’s cool voice sent the guard away. He stood, moving fluidly around the desk and down the short set of steps attached to the platform. “Miss Desdemona, thank you for coming on such short notice. I am Councilman Hilliard.” Puck’s father nodded at her before cutting his gaze over to his son. “Puck. It’s been quite a while, hasn’t it?”

“Hilliard.” Puck nodded stiffly. Desi shifted closer to him. “Why are we here?”

“No dancing around the question?” Hilliard’s lips twitched. “Perhaps these years in the military did you some good after all.”

Puck kept silent. Desi reached out and wrapped her hand around his. 

The Councilman turned and climbed the short distance back onto his platform. “You are here, because I received some rather disturbing information, which I hope the two of you can help explain.” He tapped button on the console, bringing it to life, then pulled up a series of audio files. They were all time and date-stamped from the previous week. Hilliard selected a file and pressed a series of keys on the panel.

A thin, static-filled voice reverberated against the high ceiling: “…if anyone can hear me, my name is Desdemona…I’m reaching out from the capital city of the Nation…If anyone in one of the post-Quake nations can hear me, please respond…”

The recording cut off. Desi looked up at Puck. He kept his eyes on Hilliard, but his grip on her hand tightened.  

“Imagine my shock, my disappointment.” Hilliard continued, gazing at the screen. “To know that one of my own people would attempt such a treasonous act. Thankfully, our own communications personnel were able to intercept the transmission before it could reach the outside.”

“Treason?” Puck hissed. He moved to shield Desi. “How can that possibly be considered treason?”

Hilliard whipped around. “It is treason because I say it is treason! The Council has declared any attempts to communicate with peoples outside of the Nation to be a danger to us all.” He sneered, his upper lip twisting disdainfully to one side. “For all we know, your young Intell friend could have been trying to stir up an attack against us. Or inciting a rebellion.”

“No!” Puck shouted, “You don’t have the right to –”

“The Council Decides and Provides!” Hilliard bellowed from his place above them.

Desi gripped the back of Puck’s jacket, but stood her ground as the Councilman paced back and forth along the platform.

“If the Council has decided that Miss Desdemona and her ilk are a threat to our way of life, then we shall provide a solution. Our great Nation is going to see many changes in the years to come, and now is the time to dispose of what we no longer need. The Intells have worn out their usefulness, and will all be arrested as enemies of the Nation with this recording as proof of their underlying, motives.”

“You can’t!” Desi lurched forward.

Puck grabbed her arm, stopping her from going any closer.

“What about the work we’ve done? All the research that helped rebuild the Nation after the Quake? Does that mean nothing?”

“Of course not.” Hilliard gave her his twitch of a smile. “The Intells’ work has benefited us more than you can possibly know. We are, without a doubt, the most advanced of any civilization left after the Great Quake, and now is the time to show our superiority to the rest of the world.”

Something deep inside Desi's brain clicked. She stared in disbelief at Puck's father. Puck glanced down at her, and when their eyes met Desi knew he'd reached the same conclusion. 

“Is that why the military is building a naval base in the south, to attack these other people?" Puck asked. "If all you needed was land, why do the squads only target graves and old religious sites? Why not tear down other ruins if all we were doing was making space for you to start a war?”  

The Grave Diggers weren’t reclaiming land for the expansion of the Nation. They were honing their abilities to destroy what was left of the other civilizations, taking out any evidence of the pre-Quake peoples’ belief systems while they were at it. A good squad could demolish a target site in minutes, what kind of damage could they bring to an underdeveloped city? 

“The Great Quake proved one thing above all.” Hilliard pressed a key and the entire screen filled with a map of the world as it was before the Quake. Great, sprawling expanses of land, seven continents in all with countless islands in between. “Left to their own devices, humans will cling to their imaginary beliefs over the solid and reliable abilities of their leaders.”

Another set of keys were tapped and the map shifted. Wide chunks of land dropped away into the metallic blue representing the oceans until the five present, much smaller continents of the world were left. Much like the map Sergeant Abalos kept, there were wide patches of color marking different areas of the Nation. The site of the future naval base was marked in red. Hilliard used a touch pad to press onto the red and spread it out towards the remaining portions of land that existed east of their own continent. Like a spider’s web, the red color expanded to wrap around the other land masses, cutting them off from one another.

“This is what we have been working towards.” Hilliard’s voice filled with reverence for the plan displayed above them. “The Intells’ findings allowed us to grow leaps and bounds ahead of the rest of the world, no other nation has had such a devoted researchers. They were permitted to continue ‘preserving our culture’ in case any new technologies were stumbled upon in the process, but now…” He swept the map aside, fingers flying across the keys on the panel.

Thousands of files popped up, filling the screen. Records and lists and photographs stacked on top of one another.

Desi gasped. “That’s our work. All of it.” She whispered to Puck.

The Councilman pressed a button at the top of the keyboard and a new window opened, its message warning that once these files were deleted they could not be recovered.

“No, no, no!” Desi struggled against the grip Puck still had on her. “He’s going to destroy it!”

“Father! Don't!” Puck shoved Desi back and raced to the platform. He made it halfway up the stairs before his father turned.

“Father? I believe that’s the first time you’ve ever called me that. You have been spending too much time with the Intells, haven’t you?” Hilliard had a handgun pointed at his son.

Puck stopped. “There aren’t supposed to be any guns left…”

“There are certain privileges to being in the Council, my son. Privileges you would have obtained before now, had you not been so thoughtless. I assumed five years spent toiling as a Grave Digger would show you  the error of your ways. Now, I see a more direct method is requited.”

An ear-splitting crack bounced off the office walls.

Desi clapped her hands over her ears and screamed.

Puck’s body seemed suspended mid-climb on the platform steps before he collapsed like a marionette suddenly without its strings. The momentum sent him backwards onto the floor. Shocked hazel eyes gazed unblinking at the ceiling.

Desi knelt beside him, her ears still ringing from the gunshot. She saw the hole ripped through the layers of material on the right side of his chest. The soldiers never wore bullet-proof vests, because they'd never had to worry about the threat before. 

Puck’s sudden intake of breath sent a wave of crimson blood pouring out of the wound. His pupils contracted, tried to focus on the anxious face hovering above him. Desi tore off her woolen jacket and pressed it against the wound. She was vaguely aware of the Councilman, still on his platform, observing them with a critical eye.

“Puck stay awake, please!” Desi choked back the rush of tears that burned behind her eyes. She grabbed his hand and pressed it beneath hers on the jacket. Blood was soaking into the material, making it harder to press it tightly against his chest.

“There is no need for panic.” Hilliard’s tone was entirely unsympathetic, almost bored. “I didn’t aim to kill him, and he will be treated soon enough.” He turned back to the screen. “First, we must finish what we've started.”

“Stop!” Desi scrambled up the platform. Hilliard closed the distance between them and drove his free fist into Desi’s stomach. She dropped to the floor with a choked cry.

“Enough.” The Councilman straightened his tie and replaced the gun in a holster beneath his suit jacket. His steps clicked sharply on the polished tiles as he walked back to the panel. “Your obsession with ancient history has become more than a mere annoyance.” 

He clicked the highlighted confirmation square waiting at the bottom of the screen.

Desi curled into herself in horror and pain. Flashes of light flitted across the screen. The computer sought out and obliterated nearly a hundred years’ worth of data gathered by the Intells.

 Her life’s work gone in a matter of minutes.

 Sucking air into her lungs, she heaved onto her hands and knees and crawled awkwardly down the steps to where Puck lay. His blood had soaked through her jacket and was dripping down to pool on the floor.

“You can’t do this.” She gulped, trying to press down on Puck’s wound again.

The Councilman watched the last of the data fade away. “It is really for the best. No one wants a world where the people are confused about who to believe. Better to tell them where to place their faith, instead of descending into anarchy again.”

Desi wheezed around the pain in her stomach. Her abdominal muscles clenched and protested the re-expansion required to stammer out words.

“The other Council members…”

“What other Council members? I have been given absolute authority by the Council, it was their only choice unless they wanted to end up in the Prison on treason charges of their own.”

Desi straightened onto her knees, one hand still pressed down on Puck’s chest.

“I don’t understand,” She said

“I know you don’t understand right now.” Hilliard’s face was ghoulish in the glow of the screen behind him. “But you will.” He flipped a switch mounted under the rim of his desk.

Desi heard the office door open. The guards were back.

She looked at Puck. There was no hope of moving him even if the soldiers weren’t blocking their way out. Puck was still breathing, but his eyes were unfocused. His face had gone waxy pale and his forehead shined with sweat. The tears finally came when Desi clasped their slippery, blood-soaked hands together. She leaned down as the guards drew closer, pressed her lips close to Puck’s ear.

“I’m so sorry, Puck. I should never have brought you into this.” A pair of hands grabbed her shoulders while another guard pulled Puck’s body away from her. “Please, don’t forget me.” 

There was a sharp, stinging pinch on the side of her neck. Desi had just enough time to recognize that she’d been drugged before the darkness swam in and claimed her.

*****

    Desi woke several hours later with a bitter taste in her mouth and a thumping headache. A wave of nausea hit and her stomach rolled. She groaned and pressed her face into the cold floor until it passed.

“Desdemona?” Artemis’s soft voice reached her through the fog. “Don’t worry, Dearest. We’re here.” A familiar hand rubbed her back until the queasiness ended.

When she was able to sit up, Desi found herself in a small windowless room with Artemis, Edmund, and a dozen other Intells. The others were all asleep, huddled together in the opposite corner.

‘We’re in a cell…’ She thought fuzzily.

Desi's breath steamed in the cold chamber. She couldn’t remember a time in her entire life when she’d ever been this cold. Where could they possibly be?

Artemis put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. Desi smiled weakly up at her father, and saw a yellowish bruise blooming its way across his jaw. Twisting her head around, she realized all of the people sitting in the cell looked more than a little worse for wear. Edmund especially so. His shirt was ripped across the front, several of his braids had come undone, and he was sporting an impressive black eye.

“What happened?” Desi asked.

“The military swarmed the Village.” Edmund muttered, drawing his long legs up to rest his elbows on his knees. “We’ve all been arrested as enemies of the Nation.”

“Councilman Hilliard!” Desi bolted upright, only to fall back against her father when a fresh bout of nausea made her choke. She gritted her teeth. “He did this! I was there in his office, he…Puck!” Her eyes swiveled wildly to Artemis. “He shot him, he shot his own son! Did they bring Puck here too?”

“I’m sorry.” Artemis shook his head. “They brought you alone.”

Desi stared down at her hands resting in her lap. They were still painted red with Puck’s blood. The front of her skirt was coated in it. Scarlet strips cracked and peeled off as it dried.

“What’s going to happen to us?” She asked.

“We know they won’t kill us.” Edmund snorted. “They’ll send us up to the Prison.” He shrugged at the sour face his uncle gave him. “Rather, they won’t kill us right away.” 

“I’m so sorry.” Desi sniffed. “I didn’t mean for of this to happen.”

“It’s not your fault.” Artemis stroked her disheveled braids. “The elders have known for some time this was a possibility. The signs were there and they’ve been preparing. That’s why the Council was only able to capture so few of us.” He swept a hand out to include the other Intells sharing the cell with them.

“Everyone else escaped? Why didn’t the two of you leave?” Desi’s brain circled around the thought that her father and cousin could have gotten away.

“We weren’t going to leave you.” Edmund squinted at her through his un-swollen eye and tugged gently on one of her braids. “How much did they drug you, anyway?”

Desi glared weakly before gripping Edmund's hand. She looked back to Artemis. “What are we going to do, father?”

Artemis’ mouth settled into a grim line. “Whatever we have to do.” He took Desi’s other hand, joining them into a small chain. “The others are out there. We have to have faith they’ll come for us when the time is right.”

Desi leaned back against the icy cell wall. "Faith. Right."  

*****

Puck:

Puck was a creature of pure sensation. He felt the softness of the bed beneath him, smelled the sharp tang of antiseptic. He could even hear snippets of the conversations being held around him in calm, hushed tones. Though the words themselves weren’t always clear.

Everything Puck had been taught to believe about the Council’s purpose, about his position as a Grave Digger, about his entire world, was now all twisted and ugly. It was so clear, and yet, right now he couldn't find the will to care. He floated like this for a while, weightless and unconcerned with anything other than the immediate stimuli around him. It was like one long, blissful train ride. 

There was one moment during Puck’s stay in limbo, when a voice broke through the haze. It had taken great effort to lift his eyelids and gaze up into hazel eyes that matched his own.

“Hello, Puck.” His father had fixed him with a taciturn stare – a scientist observing a test subject that had reacted differently than predicted. “How are you feeling?”

Puck had tried to respond, but all of his energy was concentrated on keeping his eyes open. He’d blinked slowly, his ability to focus quickly slipping.

Hilliard had examined the IV bag hanging next to the bed, produced a syringe of milky liquid and injected it into the tube connecting the bag to a vein in Puck’s arm. As the solution blended with the IV fluid, Puck felt that amazing weightless sensation returning. It had been such a relief to close his eyes again, he’d barely caught his father’s last words before drifting off.  

“Don’t worry, Puck.” Hilliard had said as he emptied the last of the syringe’s contents. “You’ll feel much better soon.”  

           

*****

Puck was released from the infirmary three weeks later.

He’d spent the first few days of his recovery drifting in and out of consciousness, floating along on some powerful pain killers the army physician had prescribed. The warped bullet they'd removed from his chest sat in a little glass jar on the bedside table.

For some reason he couldn’t name yet, Puck felt a strong desire to keep it.

Beth had visited daily. Hilliard came when he could be spared from Council matters. A few of the men in Puck's squad had stopped by as well, until Puck kicked them out for horsing around with the medical equipment.

It had been nice to get some rest after nearly five years of Grave Digger work, especially with the new mission in the south due to begin soon. Puck stowed his belongings Beth had brought tohim in the infirmary back in his quarters and went to find his squad.

Adjusting the sling that kept his right arm elevated, Puck pushed open the door to the commissary. Out trickled a wave of laughter, no doubt brought on by a soldier’s current performance on one of the games.

“I’ll be damned!” Caius spotted him first. “Our fearless leader!”

The large soldier lurched to his side and slapped Puck none-too-gently on the back.

“Good to see you too, Caius.” Puck grunted.

They walked together to a table that had been commandeered by several of his squad members. He was greeted warmly all around. One of the men retrieved Puck a ration of ale, and it wasn’t long before they were begging for details of the heroic exploits that had landed him in the infirmary in the first place.

“I told you already/” Puck shook his head. “I don’t remember much, the doctors said my body went into shock after I was shot.”

“Even so!” A dark-eyed Scanner across the table pressed. “Can you believe it about those Intells? Plotting against the Nation and hiding illegal weapons this whole time! Lucky you were there when they tried to assassinate your father.”

“Too bad they didn’t catch many of ‘em.” Caius cracked his knuckles. “Should have known the rats would have a hole to escape through.”

Another Burner chimed in: “Enemies of the Nation.”

“Outlaws.” The Scanner across from Puck added.

“That reminds me,” Caius shook his head. “You remember my cousin Antoine, the one assigned to the Council guard?”  

Puck nodded, arranging his arm into a more comfortable position in the sling.

“He was assigned to help load the Intells onto the Prison train, and he said one of those freaks had blue eyes!” He knocked back his own glass of ale.

“What?” Puck frowned.

Caius’ block head bobbed up and down. “Some girl. He said when they were shutting the train doors, she looks at him and through all those braids they wear, and he sees she’s got these big blue eyes. Can you believe that? I told him he was full of shit but he swears he saw them.”

Puck felt a buzz, a tickle of something in the back of his mind. Some lone synapse in his brain tried to conjure up a pair of cerulean eyes framed by dark lashes. Eyes so blue, the rest of their owner’s face was made hazy by comparison.

‘Please, don’t forget me…’ 

Caius thumped his fist on the table. “Hey Puck, you in there?”

Puck snorted, the fleeting image evaporated before he could grasp it. He turned to Caius and smirked.

“You and your cousin are out of your damn minds, you know that?” Puck raised his glass in a toast with his good hand. “There aren’t any people with blue eyes anymore.” 

THE END

© Courtney Carter, http://writingdeskblog.blogspot.com, 2018. This is a work of fiction.