Skye City: The Darkness of Emmilyn

Where to Next?

The remaining members of our gang wander through the underground chambers of the Enclave, treading among charred corpses. It feels as though we are journeying through hell after the fires have burnt out, but the true sense of horror is impossible to convey. Missing lips and cheeks expose jaw-bones and teeth – and contorted limbs appear to have stiffened while writhing in agony. I would rather avert my gaze, but I must avoid tripping over another dead San Terian Guard.

My phaser is readied at every turn as we call, 'Hello,' with raised but whispery voices, and I am unsure the calling is sensible, given the enemy could still be lurking. Although I hear no footsteps or see no torch light, I am uncertain how far this maze extends or how many chambers are contained within the walls of mud and roots. The network of tunnels could spread below the entire jungle.

Every glimpse of a melted uniform, every whiff of charred flesh provokes whimpers, trembling, gasping, and sorrow. Even though I felt no sympathy for the first corpse I encountered and fell on, even though these are the bodies of our enemies who kill children without remorse, even though I truly despise every one of these bastards, I somehow feel sadness for the loss of their lives, for the pain of their families.

The longer I linger in their presence, the more I appreciate our enemies were human behind those masks. They were only monsters when they put their masks on, like they underwent a transformation, became San Teria's cruel puppets.

Despite my sorrow I would not change the situation, I would not bring them back because their deaths were necessary for our safety. And my sorrow is over-ridden by concern for our amazing telepathic friends who could have been returned to their torturers. I just want to leave these grim chambers, but we need to know whether any telepaths remain, which means checking the corpses for recognisable features, searching for the living, risking our lives again.

'Rupert... Anyone...' My voice echoes through the mud tunnels as swirling orange light reveals chambers with mosaics of animals and trees, of the sun, moon and stars... Sticking close to Scoop's lighter flame as darkness is peeled away, I glimpse hammocks, pots and dishes, fruit and vegetable baskets, the remains of a bonfire within a circle of rocks, shelves with phials and trinkets and books.

We crouch to examine the dead, discovering no familiar corpses and no survivors lingering inside any of the chambers. The lack of answers is disheartening, especially given we could easily have overlooked evidence or even entire sections of the Enclave.

As we backtrack, we collect food from a pantry because although nothing within this lair could seem appetising, we badly need to eat something. We must have walked twenty miles in the cold with no breakfast, no provisions, not even water. Adrenaline can only fuel our bodies for so long.

We reach the charcoal tables at the main chamber, having explored this immense hideout as best we could, and the only corpses we found were those of the San Terian Guard. It is a relief to know the telepaths put up a fight, that they likely escaped unscathed. Hopefully Rupert led them to safety wherever that may be.

Scoop's lighter flame finally goes out, plunging us into pitch blackness so we feel our way to the exit tunnel, kicking unseen bodies, bumping into hard objects and yelping. 'I've found the way out!' I follow the voice of Scoop, joining the gang in faint light, and we ascend to the jungle, clawing through the leafless bush at the surface.

The dense canopy and setting sun mean visibility is low, and we must leave before our surroundings become as dark as the chambers below. The 'jungle' is hazardous enough in daylight, given how many things will bite and sting you.

'It-it's no use.' Oscar kicks up fallen leaves which float to the ground. 'We must have explored every part of this place twice over. We should return to the rebel base.'

'I dunno, I have a bad feeling.' I glance at the circle of drained faces surrounded by withering foliage and red berries. Our ordeal has been relentless and this place was supposed to be our sanctuary from the rising threat. I doubt we have the physical or mental energy to return to the warzone. 'The rebels were preparing for an attack. I hope Nelson is okay, and Smig...'

'We can't just stay down here with the bodies, and it's not like we can return home either.' Bex brushes the long, dark hair from her face, revealing her feline eye makeup. In the low light, her skin appears dry, coarse, colourless, in spite of the bronze lipstick and eye-shadow, as though her inner-harshness has risen to the surface and broken through her foundation. 'I never wanna go back there...'

'Why not?' Scoop lowers his voice.

'Er, because that's filled with bodies too,' Bex says.

'The bodies will have been retrieved, surely,' Oscar says.

'This city is in bloody chaos. I wouldn't be surprised if the dead were just left behind.' I adjust my footing and the dry leaves crunch on the forest floor. 'It's not like San Teria give a damn about their own. They see death as shameful, and who's gonna complain about bodies rotting in an abandoned warehouse?'

'This is our home we're talking about. We can't just give it up. I say we return and if the b-bodies are still there, we can bury them, just like we buried Lel. Who's with me?' Oscar says, and the gang gawp at one another, hunching, horrified. I never want to see another corpse as long as I live and the others clearly share the sentiment.

'That's the place where we were attacked by the STG, where I was held at gunpoint, where Arturo was shot,' I say and the gang lower their heads; their breathing loud and crisp in the cold air. With every passing second, the jagged branches darken, and the yellows and browns of the jungle become greys. 'Does anyone have a better suggestion?'

Scoop raises his index finger. 'We could return to the ssthlums, see if any of our friends have room.'

'It's not like they're living in abandoned warehouses. Our place was a bloody mansion compared to their huts, and the slums are still infected. It's too damn risky,' Bex says.

'Well, we could take over another abandoned building in the old industrial estate,' Oscar says. 'There's plenty to choose from.'

'And stay next door to the dead? That's way too creepy, and the STG could return at any point to investigate and clean up,' Bex says.

'Well, it's not like we have anywhere better to go.' Oscar sniffs, agitated.

'Maybe we do. I know a girl named Eyris...' Bex crosses her arms and smirks rather perversely. 

'She's a Level Two Citizen.'

'How the hell do you know a Level Two Citizen?' Oscar says.

'Myla introduced me. It's funny, Eyris mistook us for actual Citizens at first. Must be because we're too hot to be bottom-levellers. Anyways, she discovered who we really were and freaked out until Myla apologised and explained we weren't gonna rob her or anything. Then suddenly she was all excited, like we were a novelty or something. Her parents' house is huge too, so there'd be plenty of room,' Bex says.

'Your friend might be willing to house a bunch of bottom-levellers, but do you really think her parents would?' I say.

'It's worth a try.' Bex shrugs.