Irene escorted Soal to an open area, actually outside of the Facility walls for a change. That is, it was an enclosed garden of sorts, surrounded by extremely sheer walls that prohibited a means of escape through this place.
This was the Facility cemetery, where some of the most devoted supporters of the project (who had died) were buried. Headstones were arranged in a geometric fashion, some of them in different shapes and sizes than others, often depending on the dead person's significance. And Lint Corp didn't seem to bury Un-Characters, because this cemetery seemed to display only a tiny fraction of all those that had died at Fort Whal.
The two largest gravestones were immediately visible: Wilwood to the left, even though they probably hadn't found his body, and Gulley to the right, whose body also probably was not able to be found. Cheshire's burial site, of a lowly grave, sat between them.
"You come here?" Soal glanced across the grave site. "No wonder you're such a morbid person."
"No, it's just..." Irene sighed. "Follow me. I'll show you what I mean."
Irene guided him to a spot near the left wall (from their perspective) of the cemetery; there stood two mossy grave markers in that placement, adjacent to one another. Soal immediately knew what she was talking about. They each read:
Isaac Grammor
A proud sympathizer of our project.
Birth Date Unknown
Died December 30th, 2086
The other read:
Charlotte Grammor
Ardent ally of our initiative.
Birth Date Unknown
Died February 19th, 2087
"My parents," Irene's voice was solemn. "Even I don't remember their birthdays. They died of the pox. They were always speaking for Lint Corp. It was probably because my unidentified grandparents called the shots. They were the ones that gave my mother, and eventually, my father, their pro-Lint Corp personality. My grandparents, whom I had never seen, told my parents to send away my sister, and send me to the Facility, building then still in progress. They then committed suicide. That was only a few months before my parents' deaths."
"I can hardly believe these are your parents' graves," Soal remarked quietly. "Who knew that you would grow to be a revolutionary leader?"
"Well, I guess it was just fate," Irene shrugged. "But as the Revolution dies, what do you think will happen to us?"
Soal stayed silent for a moment. He had just been reminded of their failure to save the Revolution. This brought him back to a moment during their search for Peregrin Cliasin, when he and Irene confessed their eternal fear of failure. And now... they had failed everyone.
"Well," Irene piped, "since we're officially traitors now, it'd be best just to hang around here before we think of some way to delay the death of our cause."
"I guess Cliasin may have been right," Soal concluded. "But I will never accept this degree of loss ever again."
"Nor would I," Irene shook her head slowly. "But I have some advice for you, Soal. About the Revolutionary cause."
"Yes?" Soal questioned. In such a dire scenario, the thing he certainly wanted most was some advice on how to pull through. Irene's advice, however, was not exactly appetizing to his determined persona.
"Just give up. I did."
YOU ARE READING
The Sketch Survivors: The Enemy Among Us
Ciencia Ficción{Book Three in the Sketch Survivors Trilogy} A new and reliable hope rises for the Revolutes when the coordinates of three "Insanity Sketches" are uncovered. Their leader, the Green Phantom, along with several others, all under the leadership o...
