Connexion : The Atlantis Project, Book.1 (2 page)

Jacques could not suppress a groan. He had
never been able to stand seeing his brother make a fool of himself
playing Don Juan, when their physical appearance was quite simply
repulsive. He felt badly for Charlie, when he threw himself into
exercises in style from a bygone era. But Charlie had not finished
reciting his poem.

“’Nevertheless, she went, and the slow
mazurka/ Carried her in its indolent rhythm like a verse/ -
Melodious rhyme, sparkling image...’”

Clementine, on the other hand, seemed to
appreciate this nonsense. At least, if it wasn’t so, she was quite
skillfully leading him to believe it was.

“You’re making me blush, Charlie. You’re the
only one who says such nice things to me. If only all men were like
you. I know some who could take a leaf out of your book.”

Behind them, a mother and daughter were
waiting. The little girl, with long, brown hair, wore thick, round
glasses staunchly planted on her surprisingly large, slightly
snubbed nose. Her rather portly mother was tightly swathed in a
sea-green suit, topped off with a leopard-spotted scarf for best
effect. Her elegance was not open for discussion.

“Mummy, what’s wrong with those men?”

“Hush, darling.”

Jacques turned around, bringing Charlie with
him, cutting short his flirtatious enterprise.

“Why ‘Hush’? There’s nothing wrong with us,
kid! We’re stuck to each other because we go well together. That’s
all.”

“This is the way nature made us,” answered
Charlie. His index finger raised, and his tone grave, he was
preparing to launch into a most knowledgeable lecture when the
large lady interrupted him.

“You must excuse her, Gentlemen. She’s never
seen any…”

“Wait. Let me guess. Monsters, maybe? Is that
it? Unless it could be… Yes. That’s it! A freak of nature!”

Jacques’ tone was noticeably more aggressive,
far from the unnecessary, but often funny, jibes he was so well
versed in.

“Oh! Come along, darling, let’s go. I’ve
heard enough of this. If I were you, I’d be a little more
discreet.”

“Snob!”

Charlie was trying to catch his brother’s
eye.

“You know very well I can’t stand it when you
behave like that! What did that little girl ever do to you,
Jacques? You always have to feel threatened by the way people look
at you. Do you see me hassling everybody? It makes me cringe. It’s
not at all the image I like to project. I know you couldn’t care
less, and it’s such a shame. You’re exasperating!”

“Keep your advice to yourself, Mr. Poet. I
don’t want to discuss it. Not today.”

Jacques scowled. His face was tense, still
under the effects of his outburst. Of course the little girl had
done him no wrong, but his analysis was basically correct. She was
undoubtedly a well-educated, conservative, little rich kid. Too
conservative perhaps, to understand one day what a man like him – a
monster to mere mortal eyes – had been through, in order to grow as
a person. Too conservative to comprehend all the trouble and sorrow
that jeopardized his identity and self-worth a little more every
day. Actually, she probably didn’t deserve any better, and her
mother had ended up speaking her true mind quite cruelly. “If I
were you, I’d be a little more discreet.” Well no, Jacques actually
thought the exact opposite – to Charlie’s disapproval. The anger
slowly subsided, giving way to a deep feeling of disgust and
uneasiness.

“Hey, it doesn’t matter,” said Michel.
“You’re just a little nervy today. Come on, I’ll buy you both a
drink. It’ll help you relax.”

He looked at Clementine.

“Don’t worry, Clementine. They’re a bit
uptight at the moment, but it’ll pass. Sorry about your
client.”

“Never mind. The atmosphere is a bit tense
these days. She’ll get over it, don’t worry about that. Go take a
seat. I’ll come and take your order.

Charlie was also watching the young woman’s
reaction carefully, but he understood from what he observed that
she was taking it all with much kindness and consideration. They
sat down at a little table at the rear of the bar, facing the
television, which was showing the results of the day’s horse
races.

“In five minutes they’ll be broadcasting live
the results of the
Vincennes
Quinté
. Today I put
everything on Bernice, an outsider, at thirty to one odds. If I
win, I’ll make a killing, my friends. I’ll buy you that car! After
that, all we’ll need is to find you a chick and you’ll have it
made.”

“Oh well done, Michel. What a tactful
remark!”

“Ah, come on, Jacques. We can have a little
joke, can’t we? Seriously. Haven’t you ever thought about it?”

“About what?”

“What do you think, Charlie?”

“You mean… getting married?”

“Maybe not, but at least meeting a girl, or
maybe… two?

Jacques had finally lit a cigarette. For a
few moments he savored the relaxation it brought him then began to
answer the question in a light-hearted tone.

“It seems complicated to me. A
ménage à
trois
is always complicated. And we’d have to find an
understanding soul who wasn’t too particular.”

“Someone like Clementine perhaps…”

Those were the last words Michel ever
uttered.

“Jacques… Jacques…”

The cloud of dust, still thick and
suffocating, obscured the bodies. Charlie could hear a strident,
painful whine resonating in the depths of his brain, as if it were
trying to pierce it through and through, until it burst. It was
impossible to move, to open his eyes and survey the disaster while
this unbearable pain would not let him alone.

A good ten minutes passed before his muscles
would relax completely. Silence. A deathly silence had just crept
in. Then nothing. No more laughter, no more raised voices; even
those awful noises – first the explosion then that dreadful,
interminable whine – had disappeared.

Finally, Charlie opened his eyes. Jacques’
head was slumped forward, motionless, covered in a thick layer of
dust. Charlie attempted feebly to get up, without success. His only
view was of Jacques’ partially open, horrified eyes. His face was
pallid, expressionless. Was he dead? No, impossible. He couldn’t
explain how or why, but Charlie could still feel his brother’s life
flowing through his own veins. He was certainly alive. But for how
much longer?

“Help! Help me!”

He recognized the voice immediately. In a
sudden, impulsive movement, he tried to get up, and then thought
better of it. One false move and his Jacques’ neck could snap,
putting an end to their miserable existence.

“I’m over here.”

“Charlie? Is that you?”

It was Clementine’s voice coming from behind
her counter. Her haggard face was streaked with long runs of blood,
but the cloud of dust still hanging in the air meant Charlie could
not see her.

“Yes. Come and help me. Jacques is
unconscious and I can’t move. He’s still breathing.”

“Keep talking to me. Don’t stop! I’m going to
try and follow the sound of your voice.”

“I don’t want to die, Clementine. Not today.
Not like this. I’m afraid for Jacques.”

“Don’t be silly. He’s going to live. You’re
going to live, too.” Her voice thick with tears, the young woman
searched for words to reassure him.

“What about the others?”

“The others…”

Clementine picked her way through the bodies.
Charlie listened in silence to her sobs and frightened cries each
time she came into contact with one of her dead, mutilated clients
or friends. With his head on the side, he couldn’t see her coming.
He could only hear her and it was not until she put her hand on his
shoulder that at last he could see her face, twisted with fear.

“They’re all dead, Charlie. All of them.”

“And Michel?”

“He’s gone, too. I’m sorry.”

She fell to her knees beside him. Charlie
could not do anything for her. Once again, he found himself reduced
to helplessness. He could only use words to help her get a grip on
reality. Words, mere words, when he would have liked to hold her
and pull her out of all this horror, carry her far away from here,
take her under his wing.

“And you? You’re not injured?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“But you’re bleeding?”

Clementine brushed her hand over her face and
looked at the mixture of blood and dust that covered her
fingers.

“It’s nothing serious; at least I don’t think
so.”

“We’re going to be okay, Clementine. Leave us
here. Go find some help.”

Outside, smoke stretched as far as the eye
could see in the city. Absolute silence reigned, and bodies were
strewn all over the pavement. Through the window she could see
Charlie watching her carefully, slumped amidst the debris with
Jacques. From this distance she could not see if he was crying too,
but the scene was unbearable. She turned on her heels, went back
into what was left of her bar and made her way toward him,
determinedly. A smile crept across Charlie’s face. From that moment
on, she would never leave him alone again. He said nothing, and
neither did she. He simply let her maneuver him, which she did very
gently. Charlie helped her as best he could, but Jacques’ inert
body made the operation difficult. Once he was upright, they
managed to find their balance, and Clementine took them in her arms
before bursting into tears again. He was remembering Michel’s
sentence, “You know, I believe we never can tell what life has in
store for us.” For now, nothing else existed; all that mattered was
this moment and everything it meant to him. For the first time, a
young woman was crying in his arms. Maybe he was going to die soon,
but she was here, pressed against him. She had come back to get
him, get them. In a soft, calm voice, he whispered in her ear.

“Pull yourself together. We need to go now.
Thank you. Thank you, Clementine.”

Regaining her composure, she began to walk
slowly, with Charlie leaning on her, doing his best to lighten his
weight. He had tremendous difficulty moving without Jacques’ help
but, forgetting their physical pain, they managed to keep moving
onward for nearly an hour without saying a single word. Around
them, nothing seemed to move. The atmosphere was strange, as if all
these corpses were not real, as if it were a bad dream that would
soon come to an end. It had to. Oh, Jacques! Why did you have to
leave me now? thought Charlie.

Clementine finally broke the silence.

“What has happened?”

“I don’t know, Clementine. I have no more
idea than you. What could have caused such a disaster? Maybe some
sort of attack or industrial accident, unless war has broken out. I
don’t really care. I just want to get my brother to hospital.
That’s all that matters for now.”

“We’ve been walking for almost an hour and I
still haven’t seen a single survivor.”

“Let’s keep looking. We have to get out of
this hellhole eventually. Let’s stop thinking and just keep moving
forward.”

“Sorry, Charlie. I just don’t think I can
handle it. I…” She did not have time to finish her sentence. The
muffled drone of a helicopter flying over the street had just
interrupted her.

“At last! We’re saved! We’re saved, Charlie.
We’re saved!”

She shouted as loudly as she could in its
direction, frantically waving her arms. The aircraft, which had
just flown past them, finally turned back. A man clad in a white
jumpsuit and gas mask, called to them, megaphone in hand.

“Stay where you are! We will inform emergency
services of your position. They will come and collect you as soon
as possible.”

The helicopter continued on its way without
further ado. Charlie and Clementine sat down side by side,
patiently awaiting their rescuers. Relieved, she put her arms
around him and lay her head on his shoulder. For his part, he was
impatient and edgy, anxious to have Jacques treated as soon as
possible. Clementine was holding him tenderly, which was what he
had always dreamed of, but again, happiness eluded him.

Once more, an imposing silence fell. The
cloud of dust was beginning to dissipate, and the sun finally made
an appearance through the thick cloud cover. An old pigeon with
straggly feathers landed on the sidewalk, right next to them. It
wandered around for a moment, and then flew away again. A few
seconds later, a voice spoke in Charlie’s head.

“
Are you worried about me?”

I’m going crazy, he thought.

“
No, Charlie. You’re not crazy; it’s me,
your brother.”

Charlie turned to look at Jacques, but his
head was still immobile, showing no sign of life. Petrified, he
turned quickly toward Clementine again. His heart was racing at a
terrifying rate, an all-too-familiar sensation.

“Talk to me. I don’t feel at all well. I can
hear Jacques’ voice. Something’s wrong. I know it. I’m losing my
mind! Please, tell me something, anything, but say it quickly. I’m
going to pass out!” Charlie was spilling the words out at top
speed.

“What’s wrong, Charlie? Don’t panic, you’re
still in shock, that’s all. Everything’s going to be okay, you’ll
see. The doctors will bring him back to us and everything will be
like it was before. Calm down. The ambulance can’t be far off
now.”

But the voice in Charlie’s head spoke
again
, “Don’t be scared, Charlie. I don’t know how all this
happened, but I’ve just come to, and thanks to you, I’m still
alive, even if we don’t have control of my muscles again yet. Hang
in there. I need your help now more than ever.”

In the distance, the echo of ambulance sirens
could be heard, and a fleet of vehicles rapidly invaded the street.
One pulled up in front of them. Two paramedics got out.

“You are going to be fine, now. Come with us.
Are you alone? Have you come across any other survivors?”