The Eighth City: A Torch in the Darkness Page 5

other clutched the medallion close to his chest. “I’m going to close the door ok Sebastian?”

  He nodded, trying to be brave, but tears slipped from his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. He gripped the handle tightly. He didn’t understand what was happening. He wanted to know what was going on. He found himself wondering if this was his fault, if his desire for adventure was being fulfilled in the most twisted way possible.

  Father frowned. His eyes were wide with fear but his eyebrows drooped in despair.

  “You are a brave boy, you know that right?” He said, cupping Sebastian’s cheek in his hand. He nodded again.

  “If anyone but me or Mom opens this chute you go down ok?”

  Sebastian was lying on his stomach and he could feel the chute sloping downwards at his knees and his shins hung over a sharp precipice.

  “You go down ok?” Father said again, more forcefully this time.

  Sebastian gave him one curt, determined nod.

  “Everything is going to be ok. But if anyone opens this door you go down. You’ll be like a hero, sliding down the chute making me proud. But if you go down, do not tell anyone your name. Do you hear me? Do not tell anyone your name.”

  But Sebastian’s resolve finally broke. He fell into uncontrollable sobs. He let go of the handle and reached out for his Father.

  “Please! Dad! Don’t go! I don’t want you to go! I don’t want to be a hero! I just want to be safe with you. We’ll work together in the Bellows. I promise I’ll be Promoted!”

  Guilt and sorrow crashed overs Father’s face and he began to speak but at that moment Mother rushed into the room, carrying the Blackpowder as if she meant to use it.

  “Howard! They’re coming!”

  With a determined frown Father pushed Sebastian’s hands away, back towards the handle, but Sebastian wouldn’t hold on. He began to crawl out of the chute. Father pushed him back roughly and slammed the cover down before he could recover. The sound of the latch clicking into place echoed through the tunnel and he found himself alone in the darkness with only the sound of his sobs.

  “Be strong Sebastian.”

  “Is he safe?” He heard his Mother say. Her voice broke on the last word.

  “He’s safe.”

  “We love you, Sebastian.” She called towards the chute. This time her voice didn’t shake.

  “Remember son, no matter who it is who opens that door if it isn’t us, go down.”

  “DAD!” he screamed. “DAD!”

  But his voice was drowned out but the crash of the front door as it was kicked from its hinges by the soft treading boots of the men in cloaks.

  There was a tremendous boom from the kitchen and he heard his mother scream, “There’s more where that came from you sons of whores!”

  Booms and crashes echoed through the house, making Sebastian jump. Suddenly, Mother cried out and he could hear Father shout, “Sara! No!”

  Sebastian closed his eyes and bit his shoulder as he moaned and cried. His hand clenched so hard it turned white and the image of the scale on the medallion dug into his palm.

  When he finally opened his eyes to the pitch darkness, an eerie silence had settled over the house. He listened intently but heard nothing.

  In the quiet a smooth and placating voice called out, “Sebastian, oh Sebastian, where are you?”

  He was so startled he shouted, “Here! I’m in the garbage chute!”

  He immediately clapped his mouth shut so fast that he bit his tongue.

  “Found the bastard.” There was a grunt and he could hear a screech of metal on metal as the latch was undone. Fear took hold as he imagined the cover being lifted to reveal the faceless men staring at him as darkness swirled beneath their hoods. He shut his eyes until a familiar voice said, “There you are. Come on out now. It’s me, Mr. Tobin, you remember me, right?”

  Sebastian opened his eyes to see Mr. Tobin’s round face staring at him from the circle of light that formed the opening of the chute. Father had always said that if he was ever in trouble or needed help he could go to Mr. Tobin. He was the constable and would always protect him; he was one of the few strangers in the city he was allowed to talk to.

  Relief flooded through him and he let go of the handle, beginning to crawl forward. He was close to the edge of the chute, almost able to step out, when he saw his parent’s bodies on the floor. Father lay over Mother, a knife clutched weakly in his hand. His eyes were closed and blood spread slowly across the cold blue steel of the floor.

  Suddenly, a strange sense of calm flooded through him and he felt his eyes droop. He was staring at his father’s face now, flecks of blood drying in his whiskers. His lips were moving, saying “Go down, go down.”

  “What. Did he fall asleep?” A voice asked from somewhere in the kitchen.

  “Just closed his eyes and started shaking,” came another, “there’s something wrong with that kid.”

  Sebastian didn’t wait to hear the rest; he had already begun scrambling further back into the tunnel on his hands and knees, skinning them on the unforgiving steel. These men were killers. They had murdered his parents. He heeded his father’s advice without thinking, pushing himself towards where the tunnel tilted down into dark nothingness, barely acknowledging the fact that he had just seen his parent’s lifeless bodies.

  “Someone grab him, he’s going down!”

  “Damnit!” Tobin yelled, and dove into the narrow opening, his gloved hand reaching for Sebastian. As he did Sebastian saw that Mr. Tobin was dressed in the same black and hooded robes as the men from his dream.

  Finger’s struck Sebastian’s face a moment before the ground gave way behind him and suddenly he was twisting and falling down the chute, his arms flailing and feet outstretched. He fell and fell and fell, tumbling head over heels until the slope evened out and he was able to catch himself on the curved walls. He had slid into a pile of garbage that had collected where several chutes came together. In the middle was another was a large hole, and indication of another chute that continued down towards the Below.

  The faint smell he had caught from above was overwhelming here. He retched uncontrollably, the sound of his pathetic heaves echoing through the chamber. He was covered in slime and grit, all around lay detritus and refuse. His breaths came in huge gasps and it was several moments before he could steady himself.

  He lay on his side, his face crushed into foul smelling garbage and his back to the cruel events above. The image of his parent’s mutilated bodies flashed before his eyes and another round of dry heaves wracked his thin body. This was all his fault, he thought, this is what he got for wishing for adventure. How could he have ever thought his life was boring?

  The dry heaves turned into great, shaking sobs as the realization of what had happened settled in. He let the grief wash over him while the sound of rough voices bounced down the tunnel from above.

  “Darkness take that brat. What are we supposed to do now?”

  “That’s what the kerosene is for you dolt.”

  “C’mon then, pour it down!”

  Sebastian was curled on the ground, hugging his knees with his back to the voices when he began to feel a viscous liquid slide along his spine and pool around his shoulders. He sniffled and a new sickly sweet scent overpowered the smell of decay and caused him to gag again. He stood on shaky legs and watched the amber liquid spread among the garbage.

  “Light ‘er up!” Came the command from above. Sebastian knew what was going to happen. He had smelled that sickly sweet scent many times before when he helped his father refill the lamps around the house, dousing the wicks of each one before refilling the reservoir.

  With the smell of kerosene and the threat of fire imminent, his first dream seemed to spring to life and he could feel the tremendous heat all around him and the smoke choking his lungs. Without a moment’s thought he leapt into the chute that led farther down and as he did so, bright orange fire came racing down the tunnel to meet him.

  After a second v
iolent tumble through the chute he reached another chamber. There his father’s voice materialized clearly out of his racing thoughts, “You’ll be like a hero, sliding down the chute making me proud.” Without hesitation he leapt to his feet, searching for another exit. As soon as he caught sight of the hole at the center of the chamber he threw himself down, his father’s voice following him, “Be strong Sebastian”

  He accelerated quicker and quicker, taking violent turns as the chute curved, cutting his arms and back. But it wasn’t fast enough. The flames caught up to him, igniting the kerosene that had soaked his back and spreading rapidly over his body. He cried out and thrashed violently in the tight confines of the tunnel as he tumbled farther and farther, going down, and still further down, just like his father had said. Amid the pain of the fire and the sharp impacts against the metal walls about, he found one part of him wishing he had taken that glass of water from his mother.