The Lover's Parable Through A Seven World Journey (20 page)

“It could have been,” Sofia responded, looking around the abandoned station. “I guess when they completed it, they had no use for this place anymore.”

“Nope. They just left it to waste away.”

The soil, deep beneath the ash of the long-forgotten hub, was dry and crumbly. Its fine-ash covering kicked up into clouds with each breath of the wind. Like walking through wet sand, the tracks of John and Sofia’s feet trailed behind them, deep and defined. The ruins of the old center were an eerie reminder of the control that the powers-that-be had over the citizens. John now understood why Mr. Sanders would not want them to enter into the present domain, if, and only if, it had been a currently functioning base of operation. But, the Highway no longer terminated at this junction. It continued further north, perhaps just over the chain of hills at the base of which direction they were
headed.

“I wonder what was here that Mr. Sanders wanted us to avoid,” John commented, without an immediate word from Sofia.

Pulling a rectangular, metal sign out from under a heavy layer of dust, Sofia glanced over its face. A few stenciled characters were still amazingly recognizable after so many years of neglect.

“I don’t know. But I’m sure he had his reasons,” she said, dropping the sign back to the ground with another cloud of dust added to the already polluted air.

Burning under the assault of the airborne particulate, John’s eyes were beginning to blur and water. Sofia’s frequent coughs and guttural clearings of her throat was a sure sign that she was feeling rather miserable as well.

As John began to lead Sofia out of the northern area of the compound, heading towards the final chain of hills separating them from their long-awaited destination, the hollow echoing of what sounded like the voices of men could be heard in the distance just around the edge of the steep bluff. Although, at this point, the strangers were too far away for either of them to discern the specifics of what they were actually saying, their utterances were consistently increasing in volume, evidence that the men were heading towards their current
position.

“They must know we’re here! What are we going to do,” Sofia’s voice began with a tremble.

Looking for somewhere to hide, John could see that there was very little they could do to conceal themselves in such a wide-open and desolate expanse. With little time to waste, he turned back towards the ruinous station with Sofia close
behind.

“Follow me,” he said, running into the shadows of the crumbling walls.

Dropping his backpack from his shoulders, John buried it under a mound of powdery ash, commanding Sofia to do the same. Rubbing the fine dust into the fabric of his clothes and upon his exposed skin, he said to her, “Cover every part of your body, they’re almost here.”

Gray and thick, they were an image of ghostliness as they dumped handfuls of the powder upon each other. The backpacks beside them, buried and hidden, had now blended into the world, appearing as nothing more than soot-covered rock. As they placed the finishing touches upon the skin of their faces, it was within a few minutes time that they were both completely free of their natural aspects. The voices of the men, clear and distinct, were now just around the corner of the wall. Pulling Sofia to the ground, John kept her close by, showing her how to burrow her arms and legs deeper into the soot. Placing a heavy grip upon her arm, he silently forced her to stop moving. The men had entered the compound.

The newly arrived group made its way into the center of the abandoned station. John and Sofia could see that they were a party of nearly a dozen men. Mostly of middle age, burly and decorated with the same angry expressions that the Monster always had on his face, they were the type people of which neither he nor she had any desire to make their acquaintances
with.

Dressed in orange jump suits with heavily equipped tool belts slung around their waists, their thick black boots and white hardhats gave them a bulky and intimidating presence. They had strapped under their jaws, and covering up to their noses, breathing masks, with hoses that connected to the filtering devices attached to the their belts at the smalls of the their backs.

“The ash probably triggered ‘em. But, who turned it on in the first place?” one of the men growled at his companions as they entered the compound.

“I hate coming to this area. I turned those things off months ago. Absolutely no need for them anymore: false readings, animals tripping them. Absolutely no need at all,” said a shorter, more mature and slender worker.

“Must be that new guy. Who else would turn the blasted things back on? I’ll have a talk with him. He needs to stop following protocol all the time,” another worker grumbled with a laugh that brought chuckles to the rest of the clan.

The two trespassers were as still as hand drawn objects upon an artist’s canvas. Covered over with the same substance that blanketed the rest of the area around them John and Sofia remained motionless, watching as the men split up into two parties.

Across from each other, set into the corners of the concrete foundation of one of the former buildings, were two metallic structures. Opening them up, the two teams worked together, simultaneously performing the same tasks. Grunting under the strain of the weight, they removed the outer shells of the units, lifting them up and revealing the rather large and noisily humming computer mainframes contained within each one. While one person from each team knelt down beside the exposed screens inside, the others sat down and rested, talking among themselves.

Although he and Sofia were quite a few meters away from the nearest group, John could see that the individuals kneeling down were holding handheld computers that they had plugged directly into the main frames of the once protected systems. As the technicians began inputting data onto the screens of their portable units, the humming ceased, and the other men, without being ordered to do so, began lifting the heavy shells and replacing them back to their former states.

“That’ll take care of it,” one of the computer techs said, lifting his hard hat and wiping the sweat from his brow.

“Hey, why don’t we just relax here for a little while? They sent us here, and I’m in no hurry to go back,” said another worker.

“And what are we going to do, let ourselves get buried alive? No thanks,” said another, kicking up a cloud of dust.

“Well,” said one of the men in a low, deceitful tone, “I’d been loading for the prissy folks at Golden World all day, and you’d never guess what I’d found.”

With those words, all the men began to gather around, questioning the man and begging to be let in on his secret.

“Take a look at this,” he said to the gawking wonder plastered on his comrade’s faces as he removed a few bottles of dark, straw colored liquid from the sack hanging on his thigh.

“And this too,” he said pulling out a long rectangular box, which he proceeded to open, revealing the smaller, cellophane covered boxes inside.

One of the men walked over to him and placed his arm around his shoulders, announcing to the cheering of the party, “Jimmy here’s one of the best. Always looking out for his mates.”

With those words they began passing out the smaller boxes, of which everyone tore open with a savage hunger. Removing the long, brown, cylindrical items from inside, each man placed the cigar between his lips, while the thief among them walked around, assisting them by providing a flame with his stolen matches. Exhaling small plumes of smoke from their noses and mouths, they were like giddy children during a celebratory gathering, noisy and jovial.

Opening up the bottles to the delight of all the men present for the occasion, they began passing them around, sharing the alcoholic contents with laughter and cursing. It did not appear to John and Sofia that the men would be leaving anytime soon.

As the afternoon wore on, the soreness in Sofia’s hips were becoming less and less tolerable. The two of them had remained motionless under their blankets of dust for several hours. The bottles of the inebriated workers were emptied some time ago. The men, drunk with overindulgence, stumbled about slurred in speech and half laughing in their confused states of mind.

One of them declared, “We need to return to the warehouse before someone notices we’re missing.”

Unknowingly abandoning most of their equipment, they began making their way towards the end of the compound. They were nothing more than a disheveled moving mass of idiocy heading back to their base of operation.

As they disappeared around the edge of the bluff, John and Sofia sat up, their ashen coating falling from their bodies like thick icing melting from a cake in the heat of the day. The team’s merry, but disjointed singing was partially silenced by the distant sound of another flying transportation vehicle in the north that was making preparations for landing. The voice of the men, playfully voluminous, slowly but steadily faded, indicating that they were just outside of the compound returning from whence they came. As the engines of the sky drew closer, the workers became less and less audible until only the roar of the vehicle overhead was all that could be
heard.

It would have been too dangerous for them to be out in the open during the day’s light, especially with the Labor workers roaming about so freely. But, with the amount of time that the men had just spent working their way into their drunken stupor, the dim ambience of the dusk was beginning to settle in. The time of day most conducive to wandering about was almost
present.

Pulling themselves up to their feet, John and Sofia began slapping at their clothing, removing the fine powder coating.

“Let’s leave everything here buried in the ash. If we hurry we can follow those men to see where they’re headed to,” John said.

“Let’s not get too close to them,” Sofia added with a concerned tone.

“We won’t. I just want to see where they’re going.”

Moving their feet gently and silently upon the canyon floor they made their way to the edge of the bluff, peering over the rocky fringe. The workers, in their rambling conditions, had not gone very far. Struggling to maintain their composures, the drunkards were unsuccessfully attempting to feign sobriety.

The downward slope of the ash-covered path that they were making their return on was undoubtedly giving them a challenge with regards to their balance. Frustratingly stumbling over their own feet, they were cursing and mumbling incoherently.

As the incoming transporter made its landing somewhere on the other side of the hill to the north, its engines cut out. The dull ringing of the ears and the distant ramblings of the inebriated workers were the only audible sounds.

Moving slowly and quietly at the bottom of a towering cliff, John and Sofia made their way to a sloping edge. As he was about to take a look around it, John realized Sofia was no longer tailing him and holding onto his shirt. Looking back over his shoulder, he could see that she was holding herself back, hiding a short distance behind him. Content with her safety, he continued with his former
action.

The workers were exiting out of the canyon, walking on a path that rounded the base of the final hill. John held his hand up, keeping Sofia at bay. After several minutes had passed by he eventually lost sight of the men. Turning back and taking Sofia by the hand, he led her towards the canyon’s outlet, continuing on the same path as their drunken guides. Keeping her near every ash-covered boulder that he could find, just in case they needed a quick cover, a place to hide, John began rubbing the fine dust into his clothing and onto his skin once again, encouraging Sofia to do the same. He was taking every extra precaution he could think of to ensure his and Sofia’s safety before moving across the barren, open land between them and the final mound.

Upon reaching the base of the hill, they left off following the workers. Moving up the steep face, John was hoping to continue tracking them from a higher and much more inconspicuous
position.

The rocky mound was wider and taller than he had anticipated. Instead of continuing with the pursuit, John chose to leave off their current objective, having them work their way to the top first. Hoping that the advantage gained from the higher ground would allow for a better understanding of what it was that he was actually getting them into, John laid out his plan for Sofia. It seemed like a reasonable decision to her. Anything that would keep her from delving further into the inner recesses of the Forbidden Zone would be more than acceptable.

As they began nearing the summit, they could scarcely hear the sounds of several engines faintly idling somewhere to the north.

“We’re almost there,” he said, scaling ahead of her.

Sofia was struggling behind, clinging to the protruding rocks that were functioning as their steps and grip-points. She was well aware of her own mixed feelings of fear and excitement of finally reaching the end. But, the wonder of the unknown was helping to make the difficult climb seem all the less unmanageable.

Pulling Sofia up and over the final edge of a short cliff, John made certain she was safely with him before continuing onward. The land mass had flattened out. They were now able to walk the rest of the way unhindered by further acclivitous areas.

The hill’s apex was well within sight. And a calamitous event, that had already been apparently unfolding somewhere on the other side, was causing a raucous activity of incomprehensible shouts and muffled speech. Tones of men, caught in the throes of anger and fear, boisterous and cruel, were followed by several echoing cracks, like the distant sound of gunfire.

“Wait here, girl,” John said, attempting to sit Sofia on the ground. “Let me go make sure it’s safe.”

“But, I want to…” Sofia began to object.

“No, I don’t want anything to happen to you. Just stay put and I’ll be right back,” he demanded, pushing her down by the shoulders, forcing her to sit upon the ash covered surface.

“John, wait,” she began to say, but he was not listening to her. Within a few seconds of time, he disappeared over the hilltop.

The lip of the downward slope was unstable and slippery under his feet due to the thick powder that had built up over the years. John settled beside a layer of ash-covered stones, using them to secure his body to the hillside. He suddenly found himself overlooking the installation of their destination, and he could hardly believe his eyes. Burnt, blackened concrete launch pads spread out in rows and columns, loaded with missile-shaped transporters docked and ready. Scaffolding butted against them with technicians and inspectors moving about like ants scurrying about. Multitudes of high-volume, metallic warehouses organized in the same manner: rows and columns that spread across the land for several kilometers set him in a momentary awe. He was an alien witness to the compound’s breadth from such a high vantage point. Had he finally found the Red Plant?

Below, on the road at the northerly base of the hill, the continuing commotion brought him out of the amazement of his discovery. He watched in horror the annihilation of the men he and Sofia had been spying on all afternoon. Several Security members, clad in black and masked with similar breathing systems as the workers, but fitted with eye protection that gave them the appearances of walking insects, had surrounded the group, apparently executing most of them, as several men lay, some face down in pools of blood, others thrown back in various contorted positions, bleeding profusely from their heads and
chests.