Before and After: Book 1 Afterwards Trilogy

By Jack Crux

Meet and share the adventures of Connor Findlay Patrick O'Reilly, his father Bagger and his guardian angel Gabriel Quintin. Conn is the little boy who lost his world when he was ten and yet has still found, in the damaged wrecks of the human beings that have raised him enough hope to carry on, at least up until now.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jan 2, 2018
• ISBN: 9780244666224

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Before and After: Book 1 Afterwards Trilogy

Before and After: Afterwards Trilogy

Book 1

PRINTING HISTORY

First publication in Great Britain by Lulu Publishing

Lulu edition published 2018

Copyright Jack Crux

All the characters in this book are fictitious,

And any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,

is purely coincidental

ISBN 978-0-244-66622-4

"We look before and after,

And pine for what is not;

Our sincerest laughter

With some pain is fraught;

Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought."

Percy Bysshe Shelly

PROLOGUE: ST JOHN STEPHEN

Pan right across! Robert Louis St John Stephen, the celebrated News4U director (and RLS to his friends, although it has to be said they were a very limited group) ordered from the comfort of his lounge chair, safe in his living area deep in the bowels of the Domain. I want the viewers to see the awful shithole!  This had better be good; I’ve got better things to do!

Mackie, the young cameraman, his face blushed by both youth and too long on the outside, licked his lips nervously and, as always, did as the voice in the macrochip implanted in his ear told him.

Over to me! The rotund Valid Police Commander’s tone was dismissive and threatening at the same time as he tried to bully the cameraman.

Don’t listen to the fat bastard! RLS remained calm and authoritative in Mackie’s ear overriding the Commander. I can smell him from here!  What the hell does he know about TV news? Now slowly, pan across, not too fast, towards the Invalids.

Mackie moved his hand, the surgically implanted digital camera in its palm, as steadily as he could, just as he had been taught.

Well, well, well. What do we have here? The VP Commander beamed, his round, sweaty features smug with arrogance, trying to get into shot as the camera panned past him.  Could it be the infamous Unholy Trinity of whom I have heard so much? Surely not caught so easily? The banes of the whole Valid Police, active for years, striking fear in the heart of every VP Operative and yet, here in my hands.

Mackie moved the camera towards where the three terrorists were being held, hooded heads bent forwards, their hands tied behind their backs, dirty and unkempt, a line of VPs, trigger fingers itching, flanking them.  

The Unholy Trinity. The VP Commander stated, his lips curling in disgust. Number one on the VP most wanted list, top of the charts! These terrorists have a bounty which it is said has been put up by Mansanto himself!

Each figure before him was dressed in khaki fatigues, stained and dirty, the fragile garments barely held together by tattered shreds flapping in the weak breeze. Gun belts slung tightly across slim waists, any potential threat annulled by their empty holsters. Boots, by far the most important equipment in the endless wastelands they roamed, added the finishing touch to each, big and sturdy yet dulled by miles of walking and the dust. The dust that seeped into everything, suffocating and smothering all in dour sepia shades of lifelessness. Each one bleeding from a number of small cuts as if they had lived through some sort of explosion.

Bagger - the devil. The VP Commander announced as he stood in front of the first man and pulled off his hood with a theatrical flourish. The man blinked in the weak sunlight, eyes as hard and intense as new cut emeralds, glaring up at the VP Commander. His messy thatch of hair had obviously once been gingery brown but now was silvered at his temples with mousy coloured strands further back.

The VP Commander moved past to stand in front of the next figure. He removed the second hood. Conn - the anti-Christ. Jet black hair greyed by dust, brown eyes, framed a teenager's pretty face, prematurely lined by the horrors he had witnessed and its undeniable beauty tainted by the odd shape of his nose, clearly broken at least once, making the face oddly lopsided.

The Commander passed along to stand in front of the last man, ripping off his hood with savage delight. This man appeared slightly less soiled, less touched by the wildness of the world, his hair black and spiky, his eyes were iced blue, cheekbones chiselled with sheer precision. And Gabriel Quintin - the false prophet. As the Commander said the last word he buried his fist, backed by his not inconsiderable weight, deep into Quintin’s belly with explosive force. The air gasped out of Quintin’s lungs with a grunt and he fell to his knees in the dirt beside the lifeless corpse of a scrawny black bird blasted out of existence by a VP gun.

St John Stephen hit the mute button, sure his voice-over would be better for his audience than the pathetic mutterings of the fat, incompetent VP Commander – far better for his audience to hear his own familiar dulcet tones. Breaking news - News4U the channel you can trust. Number one in all of the Domain. Don't forget we are sponsored by the great Mansanto himself! he purred hitting the button that sent the Newsflash jingle blaring on every single vid screen in the city, interrupting the output on each channel, and sending an alert to the macrochip implanted in every Domain inhabitant’s brain. Using this button without due cause would result in instant termination but RLS never failed to get a wave of satisfaction rushing through him from the power to instantly communicate with every single person in the Domain.

Pulling himself together for the sake of his profession, he leaned towards the screen bringing him Mackie’s pictures and spoke into his mike once more. News4U brings you the news our competitors can only dream of! New and exclusive the Unholy Trinity taken and held. Only News4U has the footage! Flicking the switch, he talked directly to Mackie again. Get your camera in their faces - I want to see their eyes!

You are fucking infamous, the Valid Police Commander continued, spinning away on surprisingly light feet from where Gabriel knelt retching. "And the one who captures you takes your glory. We all know, as the great man said, ‘Glory is like a circle in the water, Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself! He whirled back to glare at Bagger. And I want my splash!"

Bagger held the man’s challenging stare for a minute, and said absolutely nothing as he contemptuously looked away into the shimmering hazy distance. Beside him Conn tried desperately to stop the shivering, fear chilling him. They had all known this day would come eventually but that knowledge brought him no comfort. The boy closed his eyes to expunge the horrifying scene before him and to stop the tears of despair that threatened to well out of his very soul. He bit his lip sharply, tasting the tart metallic tang of his own blood. The pain quietened the fear-filled voices in his head, as it always did, and he opened his eyes to look out on to the same scene with newfound strength.

RLS continued his commentary. We are not sure of the location but it could be within view of the city walls.  As you can see News4U, endorsed by Mansanto our great Leader, brings you live pictures of these desperate, wild terrorists, the stuff of legend! He knew he had the attention of his viewers now and could imagine them gathering in front of the Domain’s huge vid screens, tingling with second-hand awe and fascination and fear.

Back in the wastelands the VP Commander paced away from the outlaws. He sniffed the air, and glanced at the grubby sun as it sank behind dusty ribbons of dirty orange and yellow.  Night would soon come, the light would be lost, but he did not care. He had worked hard to get to this point and he was determined to enjoy it to the full. He snorted and turned back to his captives. "‘When shall you three meet again,’ He rolled his eyes and grinned as he plucked another quote from the list he had memorised especially for this occasion. ’In thunder, lightning, or in rain? When the hurlyburly's done, When the battle's lost and won.’ Oh, those ancients, they knew the power of words, didn’t they?"

Mad bastard! RLS muttered, impressed despite his earlier misgivings with the performance of the Commander, his finger poised to swipe across un-mute. Closer, he commanded Mackie as he relented and allowed the VP Commander’s voice to boom from the speakers.

You have no idea, you scum, do you? the Commander’s nose crinkled in disgust.  It was Conn’s turn to be the subject of the mad stare. But the young boy drank deep from his well of courage and held the challenging glare blankly. 

I am Commander Shakespear, I took my name from the greatest writer that ever lived. Life is hard, we suffer but the Domain does what it needs to do to ensure the survival of our people, to keep them safe from the maniacs, the terrorists, the murderers, the Invalids, like you!

Gabriel climbed somewhat awkwardly to his feet, hands still tied behind his back, but the voice who responded was Bagger's What are you, Commander Shakespear? Bagger began. You don’t seem to be doing much suffering to me, the years have been kind to you, the size of your ego is only beaten by the size of your fat belly. Oh, you have to come out from behind your walls to do the odd mission out here against the Invalids, but the rest of the time it’s not so bad, is it?  Do your men know how you spend your time in the inner sanctum of the Domain, what luxuries you Commanders have? Do the viewers of your sordid little show know? He nodded toward Mackie with his camera.

St John Stephen’s finger hovered over the mute button once more, not wanting his audience to hear such heresy but entrapped in the drama of the moment.

Shut up! Shakespear glared for long seconds and then relaxed. But it doesn’t matter because soon you’ll be out of the game. Did you like my plan, a little subterfuge; bait the trap and wait for the scum to come sniffing around? And then boom! Do you know where I learnt such tactics?

Bagger sniffed. Not at Valid Police School.

No, not there. There, they teach honour, loyalty and truth. No, guerrilla warfare is not even mentioned in the curriculum.

Perhaps that's why you're losing the war. Gabriel muttered darkly.

Shakespear ignored him. "I have come to see that ‘Tis best to weigh the enemy more mighty than he seems.’ He quoted, And let’s be sure, seeing you three here, vanquished, you seem to be of little consequence and yet your success has proved you are more than you appear. The Valid Police tremble at your name, your fame is known across the whole of the Domain. People lay awake in their beds at night afeared you will take them in their sleep. You have steadily and brilliantly cast a shadow of fear across the whole of the world. Your names bring terror into even the strongest of hearts; you are angels of death dealing agonising and undeserved demise to my loyal countrymen. The Unholy Trinity."

St John Stephen allowed himself a pleased sigh in recognition of Shakespear’s inspirational prose.

The Commander stopped his rant to stand in front of Gabriel Quintin, eyes spitting sheer hate. How ironic that instead of killing terrorists, you have become one! Mansanto wants to meet you particularly.

Shakespear paused, quite lost in his own importance before he commenced his narrative once more. "I want the fame, the power and I began to see that in order to beat you, I had to become bloodier and more cruel than even you. Out here, there are no battle lines, no air cover, no computers – the dust sees to all that. Everything out here is Invalid. So, I have studied you, the mightiest of the Invalids, your little trinity, the way you operate, your dealings in terror. The way you appear from out of the dust, wreak bloody murder and then disappear back from where you came. I watched and learnt and I set my trap. You have been very patient, making us wait all day and at times I thought my men would not endure, ‘How poor are they that have not patience!’ and I made them stand. And when you three starving dogs finally came sniffing, it was easy to press the button, overpower you and begin my own myth!"

RLS shook his head. Too much talking, he muttered. Focus on their eyes. He hit his voice-over switch, Latent bestiality and threat – remember these are the Invalids that could be at the gates of the Domain every night. They want to steal you from your beds, torture you, terrorise you. Thank the Lord the Domain keeps you safe. News4U, Mansanto's favourite news channel, brings you the world as it really is!

RLS’ eyes went to the viewing figures dial at the edge of his screen; after steadily increasing it had plateaued and was now beginning to fall back.

He cursed.

Shakespear eyed Bagger arrogantly, his smile oozing smugness as he continued. What is that quaint little saying you use, ‘We are three’? It would be a great pity if that unity was to be revealed as a sham, would it not? The foundations of your world would crumble; your legend would become nothing but dust!

Conn glanced between his father and Gabriel, noting the stiffness in each. Here was danger, he could sense it. Here was an adversary who indeed used his brain rather than his brawn. 

It is your turn to misjudge, Bagger snapped too quickly.  There is no friction between us.

Friction, Shakespear repeated. An exciting choice of word. He gestured to a guard, who stepped up and placed a battered book into his Commander’s outstretched hand. 

What is it? St John Stephen demanded. Close up on it now!

Conn could not help himself and surged towards his beloved dictionary. The guard behind him stepped forward and grabbed him roughly by the shoulders, stopping his forward momentum.

Shakespear appeared to examine the book and then rolled his eyes. He threw the dictionary at the nearest guard. Burn it and let them see! he commanded and watched with glee as the VP set fire to the dictionary.

Mackie’s camera hand was shaking. Hold it steady, St John Stephen ordered.

The smell of burning was sharp on the hot air as a lazy wisp of white smoke danced upward. Conn watched, nostrils flaring, keeping his face expressionless as the well-fingered paper disintegrated from white to red to grey to black. The guard dropped the smouldering remains on to the floor where they crumbled into a small pile of cinders that waited to be blown away with the other ash from older, greater fires, by the wasteland wind. His most precious belonging was no more.

Shakespear leered with glee as he walked towards the three figures as they were forced to their knees. The cold malice in his eye was enough to cause a further shiver to run the length of Conn’s spine but the young boy’s eyes were drawn to the object Shakespear now carried in his hand. It was the cleanest thing Conn had ever seen, its smooth pale metal surface gleaming in the evening light seemed immune to the dust that normally infiltrated everything. It was immaculate and seemed somehow unworldly, like it was not meant for the grubby places that Conn and his colleagues inhabited.

As you will recall, St John Stephen, ignoring the ad break light flashing, spoke to his audience. News4U is live in the wastelands and as you see we have new city technology at our call. He swiped at his screen. Focus on that thing! he commanded Mackie.

Now we shall see, Shakespear sneered as he stood before his kneeling captives. Technology shall overcome fear and all will be well with the world.

Conn’s eyes ran over the object, mesmerised by it. As far as he could tell it was shaped like a cylinder, completely smooth, the size of a man’s head - some form of helmet, Conn surmised but his thought did nothing to quieten the quaking deep in his bowels – his instinct told him it was evil. Shakespear’s words simply confirmed this.

So who will be the lucky volunteer? Who is going to make history live on TV? Shakespear moved menacingly forward, "Be not afraid of greatness: some men are born great, some achieve greatness and some have greatness thrust upon them. Conn shivered more violently at the familiar words as Shakespear indicated towards Gabriel. Bring him out!"

Two burly VP Operatives stepped forward, pushing Gabriel forward. He tried to fight, twisting and flexing his body, desperately trying to loosen their grip but they held firm.

Easy boy, St John Stephen’s voice was in Mackie’s ear. Get as close as you can but not too close!

What are you doing? Bagger urged, trying to rise upward but finding his advance stopped by a further two Operatives.

Gabriel was pushed to his knees in front of Shakespear, a strong hand forcing