Contamination: The Commorancy, #2

By Al K. Line

The Contamination begins as Varik, along with his tattooed acolytes, threaten not only the fabled Commorancy but the very future of humanity.

 

Marcus, centuries old and getting more eccentric by the day, tries to fight a descent into madness while ensuring he protects the guests he had to so rudely disturb from the sanctuary of their Rooms.

 

Letje, the youngest of the guests, finds herself overwhelmed as she tries to Awaken amidst the bizarre behaviour of Marcus and the breathtaking architecture of The Commorancy - the last bastion of hope for the few people that actually care if the human race survives or perishes.

 

Bird watches it all from above, bemused by the games of man.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Al K. Line
• Release date: Jan 13, 2015
• ISBN: 9781507016589

Al K. Line

Al K. Line is a British author who lives in rural England with his wife, son and dogs. When asked to describe himself for this bio all we got was the following: "Who am I? Degrees, jobs, living in other countries, fighting squirrels, cuddling monkeys, amused by penguins, all the usual stuff." Best newsletter in digital make-believe land: http://www.alkline.co.uk (discounts and cool stuff) Facebook thing: https://www.facebook.com/authoralkline

Book preview

Fancy a Stroll?

We need to get away from here, far from The Commorancy. We need to go outside. It's the only way to draw Varik and his followers out, to stop them from trying to gain entry. They can never know what happens inside and we must do our best to stop The Contamination — that means distracting Varik. I'd rather he pursued me, us, than discover the true scale of what he is attempting to eradicate.

And what exactly is the plan if we do succeed in getting away and he comes after us? asked Stanley, trying to visualize a scenario where they faced thousands of insane acolytes all tattooed red and keen for The Void.

Oh, they'll come after us alright, don't worry about that, smiled Marcus. He wants me more than anything else, and with the promise of eliminating what he assumes are all The Awoken then he will jump at the chance. I really can't apologize enough for what is happening, it is certainly not what I wanted for any of you. And you my dear, Marcus turned to Letje, so young, so much in front of you, I want you to know that I will do all that I can to keep you safe, as will the rest of the guests. Right?

Of course.

Indubitably.

You can count on me.

I'll do what I can.

Letje was taken aback by the concern for her. It had been so long since anyone had been around to care that she had forgotten what it was like to have others that you could rely on. Wow, thanks everyone. But don't you worry about me, I'm stronger than I look. Letje flexed a lean, well muscled bicep and smiled as confidently as she could. She clutched tight to Constantine's travel bag, the familiarity helping her to feel brave.

Right, if you will follow me, we will, rather hurriedly I'm afraid, go to The Already Packed Room. There are bags there that are al—

Already packed! shouted seven voices, smiling despite the very real danger they were in.

Um, well, yes. Marcus felt a little deflated but did his best not to show it.

He led them hurriedly through the exit, closing the door behind Umeko who came out last. He pressed a hand against the door three centimeters to the right of the top hinge, then did the same lower down the door. The Room For Weapons needed to stay secure, it was one Room he certainly didn't want anyone entering apart from him. The other Marcus would be needing what it contained soon enough, so would he. Unfortunately.

Out in the high vaulted space that led to the rather eclectic collection of weapons, and the contrasting fine view, Marcus led them hurriedly to The Anteroom Room. There was no dawdling, no gawking at the multitude of bizarre objects, speed was of the essence.

Marcus, why are we going back to The Anteroom Room? I thought we needed to go to, um, The Already Packed Room? Letje found Marcus' actions bizarre — nearly constantly.

It will be quicker this way, plus we can get a few other things once we are there too.

With uncharacteristically serious behavior Marcus led the way as fast as he could. George kept pace with Marcus easily, and every now and then would turn and look disapprovingly at the people behind him. He didn't mean anything by it, it was just the way he had been raised.

~~~

Please, follow me, said Marcus, as the door that goes whoosh, whooshed. Letje stared at it suspiciously. There was something simply not quite right about that door. Now wasn't the time to ask however.

They stepped into Room0, but it was no longer The Orientation Room. The Room was cramped with countless rucksacks, all identical, all lined up against a rather pleasing pastel blue painted wall. The black packs were arranged neatly, running deep into the long yet confusingly thin Room. Above each was a small brass plaque with all pertinent information pertaining to the individual rucksack beneath it. Even the screws that fastened the plaque to the wall were aligned perfectly. It was modern art for survivalists.

Please, no questions about the Room, it will take too long I'm afraid. And there are plenty more surprises in store, so for now let's just get organized and I will answer questions later. We will have to travel very light, so please if you would be so kind as to pick a rucksack that is suitable for you, we will be going in just a few minutes.

Going? Okay. But where exactly are we going Marcus?

We are going to make our escape, of course, said Marcus, not relishing the thought at all. It had been a very long time and Marcus was not at all sure that it had actually been him that had been the one that went out last.

Onto the actual island? Why? Don't tell me you haven't got some kind of an escape tunnel hidden away somewhere inside that we can use that would take us back to the mainland. Or a bridge maybe?

Haha, very astute Umeko. Yes, there is an escape tunnel, of course, said Marcus, waving away even the slightest doubt he would have such a backup. It's in the—

Yeah, The Room For The Tunnel, said Sy, winking at Letje.

Ha. Actually no. It's in The Big Tunnel Room, so there. Marcus smiled, pleased that the group were able to laugh and joke even though real danger was threatening. Did they not realize how dire the situation was with so many Lethargic controlled and clamoring for their heads?

In all seriousness though, and please listen carefully, we need to go outside to draw away attention from The Commorancy and the other guests. It is vital they are not discovered. Once outside there is another entrance to the tunnel, and that will take us to safety. There is no bridge, it was destroyed a long time ago, and I purposely never constructed a new one. Don't want to make things too easy for uninvited guests do we?

Marcus? Marcus?

Marcus turned to Letje and waited for her to speak.

I can't go into a tunnel. I just can't. You will have to go without me. I'll stay here. Help in any way I can. But I absolutely cannot go inside a tunnel. Letje actually began to sweat at the mere thought of doing such a thing. Once was enough for her — more than enough. She pinched her nose to dispel the memory of the smell she would forever associate with going under the ground.

Ah, phobia is it? Claustrophobia? Don't worry, by the time we get there I can show you how to control such things Letje. Or if we really need to then I can take away the fear for you, if you would allow such an intrusion.

You don't understand, it won't work.

Trust me, it will.

Well, okay. But I warn you, I absolutely cannot go into a tunnel. I was a mole once, and I didn't like it one bit.

Ah, said Marcus. I understand.

Huh? said Stanley. He for one certainly didn't.

"I get it, it can be a scary thing, i am a mole and i live in a hole, beady bad eyes, biccie and a walkies. I nearly got stuck myself once too, said Astolat. It's about the scariest, ooh missus, have a banana, thing in the world. It can drive you mad. billy bonkers from brazil, mad fridge on a wet dumpling. You were lucky Letje, some people have got stuck so long they are never right again."

Yeah, well, I thought I was a goner. I couldn't even look at soil for a week afterward, and worms... Ugh! Letje thought it best not to mention the rather bizarre way Astolat spoke, she probably already knew, and she had been raised to be a polite girl anyway.

Can someone please tell me what you are going on about? asked Stanley. Such things sounded like magic. He was first generation, a lot of what become known about being Awoken happened after he became a guest of Marcus.

Marcus consulted The Noise quickly. I think we have time. Why don't you tell us all about it Letje. It will make my plans easier if I know how to best handle the tunnel situation before it becomes a critical issue.

Well, okay, but don't laugh. It was horrible. Letje shuddered at the memory of her one and only attempt at taking over the mind of another creature. As she told the story Marcus cajoled them into picking their rucksacks, the tags above told you the various sizes contained within so you could be sure that the contents were suitable for your size, age and sex. Marcus was nothing if not thorough. Sometimes he got bored and became somewhat obsessive.

I Am a Mole

Letje's body shook violently as the fat wriggling worm slid down her throat. It was still moving, trying to curl round her tongue in a last attempt at salvation. It was no good, it slipped down into her gullet, slick yet surprisingly rough as soil particles scraped her throat and the worm followed them down.

Juices exploded in her mouth and she retched, but nothing came out. It was not her human form eating the wriggling worm, it was the mole's meal, not hers.

But Letje was the mole, and now she was stuck.

She had been in the garden, down by the large pond, lying on the grass and enjoying the sun, the peace. She could hear her parents up near the house, their chatter adding to the sleep inducing background hum of contentment. She knew she was lucky. To have both parents, to be Whole herself, to be safe and protected. Still, Letje knew there was more. The last few years she had been told more details of the fate of humanity — about Lethargy, being Whole, and those that were Awoken. She was told of the wonders some people had reported, the gifts opened up to them, and she dreamed of being as powerful. Not to do bad, but maybe to somehow help rebuild the human race.

As she daydreamed she heard a vibration through the ground, a distant rumbling as if someone was coming.

She turned to her side on the checkered blanket just as the grass began to tear apart. A mound grew, the short stubby turf breaking apart to reveal the rich loam underneath. Higher and higher the miniature mountain grew, until out from the top peeped a sleepy looking mole. Letje always thought they would be bigger, that they must be large creatures to make such a mess of the garden with their incessant need to make more tunnels and excavate the earth they dug out. But it was so small, maybe the size of her hand? No, more like her father's hand. Its head was tiny, the eyes minute, but the hands? Is that what you called them? They were like the spades the family used to dig the soil to plant their crops.

Letje stayed quite still, observing the little creature and its mighty excavations. As she lay there everything else faded away until she began to feel a connection to the excessively productive little digging machine. She thought of the way those who were Awoken could enter the bodies of animals, even people if the rumors were true, and she thought of how to do it. It was to do with The Noise wasn't it? The life-forces present in everything, everywhere. She focused hard, scrunching up her nose, letting the sun beat down on her cheek. Letje crept into the mind of the mole.

It was a small space — extremely cramped, and there wasn't much going on as far as she could tell. She could sense its need to dig, a compulsion that drove it to scoop more and more earth out of the ground to increase its network of tunnels — then it was her doing the obsessive excavation work.

She was a mole.

Letje didn't know what to do. She felt urges she had no right experiencing. The urge to dig, to tunnel, to eat worms.

Here it comes.

The worm slithered down her throat.

She felt her way forward in the tunnel, sensing another meal.

Oh no, not a beetle.

Her body reacted even more violently. Spittle dribbled out of the corner of her mouth as the disgusting sharp legged insect fought to escape her tiny razor sharp teeth.

Yum, yum.

What? That's not right. It's gross.

Panic, verging on outright terror, set in. She tried to control the digging machine, to get it to turn around, to head back to the surface, to the light — it ignored her. The mole scampered through the warren of tunnels underneath the garden she lay atop of. Her human body was locked in position, she couldn't move a muscle, couldn't even blink an eye. Letje felt so disassociated it was as if she were two creatures at the same time, yet only one could be in motion.

As the mole, or her — she was growing unsure what she was any longer — carried on moving through the underground labyrinth, she began to feel more and more claustrophobic. This was no way for a person to act. It was unnatural and the damp soil and constant munching on whatever protein source she came across was making her stomach heave over and over again.

Letje tried again to control the mind of the mole, to get it to turn around and head back to the surface. All she wanted in the world was to breathe fresh air and see the sky above.

Nothing worked. However hard she tried it carried on its business as though she was nothing but an onlooker. She was simply along for the ride, not the one in control.

Letje simply didn't have the experience to do what she was attempting; she was but a background noise to the creature, not a mind that knew the ways of The Noise and could control the actions of the small mammal.

Slowly she began to fade. What was her became something else — it became smaller, compact, interested only in what moles thought important. She was losing herself locked in the tiny mind, a mind unable to cope with, or understand, the workings of the human brain. The mole consciousness was taking over, gradually trapping her inside. Her self-awareness was slipping so much she felt memories fade and emotions dissolve. If it carried on then she would be nothing but a little mole going about its mole business and the girl named Letje would be lost forever — just like one of The Lethargic. She would simply fade away, her body unable to fend for itself, her memories, her life and all her possible futures would dissolve into nothing more than a dream of what could have been and what never was. She would enter The Void and be no more.

The nightmare continued.

The longer she viewed the world from the experience of the mole the more she took on its way of being. The worms and insects were becoming a food supply, nothing more. There was no feeling either way as to if they tasted good or bad, they were just food. The world dimmed to shadows, her eyesight worsened the deeper into the ground she went. She found she relied on touch and smell more than anything as her nose twitched at the tunnels ahead.

Letje had almost given up hope of ever seeing daylight again when a flicker of something in her human brain told her to head back up to the surface. She turned in the confined space and fought to move back the way she had come. The tunnel had collapsed inward somewhat, there was a vibration above and the soil had blocked the newly excavated crawl space. She began to dig upward, to make an opening so she could dispose of the blockage to her network of tunnels.

Her head broke the surface and she stared about warily, pupils contracting to pinpoints to stop the light blinding her. She made out a prone form on the grass — it meant little to her, nothing more than some kind of blurry lump. Then there was a noise close by, a pounding on the ground, the loose soil shaking. She looked up only to see something descending toward her at great speed.

A flash of recognition.

Letje spasmed and she was herself again. Back in her own body.

Letje, the girl that was nearly a mole.

~~~

It was horrible, moaned Letje. Another split second and I would have been dead. My father had grabbed a spade and flattened the mole as it popped its head above ground. They were always ruining his veg plot and mother hated the mess they made of The Lawn. They always seemed to pick the most important bit of the garden to ruin. It drove Daddy to absolute despair. Being a mole is not nice. Letje shuddered, remembering the slimy taste of worms, the feeling of becoming something she was never supposed to be. She was nearly lost forever.

Well, it's lucky you got back Letje. But what is more amazing is that you managed to do that in the first place. It normally takes a much more mature mind, plus a lot of practice and understanding, to be able to enter The Noise like that and get into the mind of another creature. Marcus was impressed and it showed.

Yes, but I couldn't control it. I was stuck.

Never mind that, most people cannot ever do what you did, let alone anyone so young and inexperienced.

"And besides, hiccup, pardon you, wiggly pig bum, said Astolat conspiratorially, you were lucky. Once I got stuck as a snail on my fence for a whole day, imagine that! boing, boing, batman."

Really? Wow.

Okay, enough for now, I think it's time we got going. And Letje, don't worry about the tunnel, I think you will find this one is really rather spacious. Marcus hefted his pack onto his back and everyone else did likewise. It was almost time to go outside.

Father Time

Hello Father, said Varik, trying not to choke on the smoke, the smell, and the warm fetid air. Even with the best will in the world his father's insistence on minimal ventilation meant the room was always cloying, close to unbearable.

The ancient man looked up from his book. Dark eyes, red rimmed and weeping, stared at Varik impatiently. What do you want? Can't you see I'm busy? He cast his eyes back down to his book, licked his finger and turned the page, adding another smudge to the already stained paper.

Varik sighed. Why do you have to be like that? After everything I've done for you, and you can't even be bothered to be civil.

Anger flashed across the old man's face. His dessicated features looking like they could flake away at any moment. Done for me? We've been through this a million times before. It's your choice I am still here. I was happy leaving to enter The Void. You are the one that stopped all that, aren't' you?

You're my father, replied Varik, as if that explained it all. You deserve your punishment. Remember? Plus I thought I might need you, and it turns out after all of these years I was right. After this though... well, I will let you go. I can't say I will be sorry to see your grotesque imp face disappear.

So? You think I care what you think? Anyway, I thought you and your sad little red-faced followers believed life was an abomination? Why don't you just leave me be? Leave me to The Lethargy? The old man poked the already roaring fire, adding another large log to the fierce pile. Grease and soot covered his almost albino skin, his crazy hair unkempt and unwashed for years. Varik noted that he looked worse than ever. Every time he came to visit the old man's face seemed to shrink even more, although his body certainly didn't seem to be following suit. He was still large, larger than Varik, tall and big-boned, unlike his son. But the muscle had melted off him, gradually his body was stripped down to skin and bone, well hidden underneath multiple layers of unwashed clothing including a thick winter coat. It was incredible the old man didn't just melt — the heat of the room was incredibly intense.

"How many more times? You know I can't do that. I need you, for now. Once I