The Escapist (16 page)

The boy and the rat trailed through the streets, Oscar creeping around corners and Vergil leaping from one roof to another.  Each threw repeated glances over his shoulder, ever alert for signs of a pursuit; picking up the distant sound of howling, screeching or the faint clank of footsteps.  They came in time to what appeared to be the town square, with four house-lined streets which branched out to form a crossroads.  The mid ground was clear, but as Oscar glanced along each path he finally caught glimpse of an orange blur, just whipping out of sight behind a tall clock tower.

“Vergil” he hissed, still wary of the wardens.  But it was of no use – high on the rooftops the rat did not hear.   He would have to push ahead out onto the street and hope Vergil would notice the path he had chosen.  He broke into a jog, eager not to lose sight of his goal, but as he started along the path an enormous four legged figure leapt out into the road just a short way further down, blocking his pursuit.  Instinctively Oscar ducked into a doorway, hoping the large silver wolf had not registered his presence.  Peering cautiously round the door frame he watched as the wolf sniffed at the air, its head twisting left and right.  Unblinking, it gazed across the road towards Oscar though did not approach.  It was only after a moment of intent inspection that Oscar realised it had no eyes, only hollows where they would have been.  However, more important was that it was not alone. Instead a dwarfed character in a small grey trench coat rode in a saddle strapped to the heaving frame of the beast, and it was this rider that now peered along the street.  But seeing nothing of interest in the darkness it pulled on the reins to coerce the wolf to continue.

As the howling around him grew louder, Oscar looked up to the rooftop, hoping the rat could signal if the coast was clear.  Locating the rodent Os
car watched in confusion as Vergil suddenly panicked, looking from one end of the street to the other.  Finally he glanced at the boy, seemingly readying himself to jump and transport in his direction.  Yet Oscar could only watch in horror, as - in what seemed like slow motion - the terrifying silhouette of a great bird arose behind the rat, and razor sharp talons sank into the furry flesh.The rat grimaced in pain, looking around only to see his attacker arching round to make a second onslaught. 

Dodging quickly, Vergil threw himself across the rooftop and tumbled wildly before coming to a stop against a chimney.  As Oscar watched in disbelief, the rat turned to face his pursuer, seemingly resigned to fight.  The vulture loomed just feet away as the rat leapt into the air, blue misted tendrils extending from his paws to grasp around the vulture.  While he did not have the strength to stop the bird’s velocity, his tendrils yanked at its wings, guiding it off course and into the tiles that lined the roof.  The bird crashed, throwing up slates as it came to a halt.  It rapidly regained composure and turned around in a fury, beady eyes lit by burning fire; but before it could attack its prey for a second time, the rat had vanished, leaving the bird gazing round wildly in a cloud of mist.

Anxious to reach the injured rat, Oscar edged along the cobbled street back toward the town centre, hoping he might chance upon his injured friend wherever he might have reappeared.  Yet the nearing sound of howls stopped him in his tracks as within moments he saw the rest of the pack closing in.  The wolves were coming from each avenue of the cross roads.  He was trapped, and though they hadn't seen him it was only a matter of moments until they would.  His mind raced to form avenues of escape: he was only limited by his imagination and ability to find a means to bend the rules, but what could he possibly do?  Synapses charged into action as a germ of an idea began to form in his mind.

As the wolf riders tightened the snare on their prey Oscar waited in anticipation.  The four legged beasts stalked forward, only yards away from where he had been just moments before.  Oscar braced himself behind a small stone recess, watching, waiting.  From here he could see the wide, gaping jaws and exposed glistening fangs as they approached.  He could see the corner far beyond, where the rat reappeared in a puff of smoke.  He could see the wolves pounce in synchronicity, salivary mouths snapping and razor claws slicing in bloodlust frenzy.  And he could see the horror on Vergil’s face as he watched his new friend and companion seemingly torn apart with ferocious abandon.  The rat jumped up, about to dive into the fray, and it was then that Oscar made his move, darting out from behind the wolves whilst they were distracted by his doppelganger and sprinting for all his might along the path he had started on.  The relief on Vergil’s face as he caught sight of the miraculously uninjured boy was indescribable.

In a puff of mist the rat was running alongside Oscar too.

“Oscar.  My goodness, that was truly incredible.  You almost had me going.”

“Thanks.” Oscar rasped in between breaths, looking pleased.  “Where now..?”  But before Vergil could answer, a volley of howls echoed through the town behind them; a little too close for comfort.  Glancing back they could see four riders at the furthest end of the path
they now stood on.  The gigantic wolves were running flat out, their strides covering many metres at a time.  It would be just seconds before they caught up..

“Quick.” Vergil shouted, “We must make for the sewers; it’s our only hope.” The rat led Oscar over to a large iron storm drain set into the side of the road and pulled desperately at it.  Oscar added his strength to the effort, lifting with all his might and between them they were able to dislodge the covering grate.  They glanced quickly up the street: the wolf riders were bearing down upon them at speed, now only yards away.  The rat and the boy both whisked around and dived towards the opening in the road, fortunately just wide enough for Oscar to squeeze his skinny frame through.  He was followed quickly by Vergil, just in the nick of time.  Gratefully, the two of them tumbled into the sewer, the snapping of wolf jaws and howls of frustration echoing in their ears.

Chapter 14

“Oscar, Oscar.” The young girl’s voice rang in his ears. “Are you still asleep, huh?”  Oscar awoke in confusion, unsure as to why he should be hearing Josie's voice, especially down in the darkness of the sewers.  His first thought was of delight - they had found the cat – but he soon realised this made no sense.  It did not take long to realise he was once again experiencing a moment within his actual body, back in the real world.  This point established he found himself less panicked than previously, knowing he just had to wait: well, wait and listen, until he could get back to Etiainheim.

“Oh Oscar.” Josie continued. “I know we weren't really friends, but there's no else around that will listen.” The small girl breathed a surprisingly big sigh, a sigh that sounded far too weary for someone so young.

“It's horrible here.  The matrons are mean. The other kids won't talk to me and everyone is scared of what Edmund will do next.  I heard that yesterday he locked a boy in the workshop cupboard all through the night and when the matrons found the boy in the morning they said it served him right for snooping around.”

Oscar felt sorry for the girl.  He had almost forgotten how tough it could be to leave a loving family and to be thrust into the hands of strangers; uncaring strangers at that.  For a second he thought he heard a small whimper, but after a large sniff it was gone. 

“I just wanna go home, why haven't they come yet?  Maybe they really are dead like everyone tells me.  Tell me it isn't true Oscar, please?”  But all the girl received in answer to her question was silence.  Despite Oscar's wish to comfort the small girl, his body remained unresponsive.

***

His head swimming, Oscar woke in a daze.  Sparks danced at the edge of his vision.  Eventually they faded and he gradually became aware of his surroundings. He was in some kind of tunnel, with mildewed flagstones making up the walls all around.  The place was dimly lit; candles threw out weak light at intervals along the walls but offered little visibility.  A scratching sound just behind him revealed Vergil's presence as the rat leapt onto a stone slab jutting out from the wall so that he was head height with Oscar.

“Still up there.” Vergil whispered, gesturing with his paw to the iron grating high overhead.  “Though they're in hiding.  The sly wolves wish to trick us into venturing out there again but of course, we know better.  It looks like we are going to have to use the sewer network.  But alas the cat... sorry I mean Josie, she is gone.”

“Argh, great.!” Oscar commented sarcastically, hauling his body up to rest against the flagstone wall.  His eyes slowly became accustomed to the lighting and he was able to pick out a few more details of his surroundings, so that the true magnificence of the sewer labyrinth became apparent.  Large paved tunnels were supported by tall marbled stone pillars and branched off in several directions.  Jutting out of each pillar a single arm held a candle, so that and eerie rows of lights could guide wary travellers deeper into the sewer system.

“How long have I been out for?” Oscar asked.

“Oh not long.  Certainly not long enough for the wolf riders to leave.  Though you took such an almighty whack from the fall I almost considered being concerned.” The rat said with a smile.

“Thanks, I guess.  So, which way should we go?”

“Well...”  Vergil looked at the tunnels, holding his head aloft.  “We have actually had a bit of luck this time. The Maere's scent has intensified down here.  As chance may have it we could be back on Edmund’s trail.  Are you ready?  There is no time to lose.” 

Oscar shook himself off and gently eased up, still feeling somewhat fragile from the fall.  The two set off along the sewer, one standing either side of a deep gully which ran through the centre of the tunnel system and carried a congealed mixture of liquid waste, interspersed by the occasional glowing orb.  Surprisingly the overall effect was not nearly as malodorous as Oscar had expected.  He could discern only a slight whiff of rotting vegetables in amongst the musty scent of the mildew that lined the tunnels.  

The sewer network seemed to sprawl out extensively beneath the town, with tunnels branching and scattering in all directions.  The sewers seemed never ending and though Oscar attempted to maintain a sense of direction, the continuous turnings and dead ends barred by iron gates soon had him confounded.  But as ever Vergil's attuned senses kept them right on track navigating through the maze.    Through gratings overhead the two would catch glimpses of the town, the odd shadow or figure of some being moving in the streets above.  It seemed the wolf riders had given up on their hunt as the echoing sound of howls was replaced with the dripping calmness of the sewer water ways.

As the two scurried through the tunnels, there came the distant sound of an irregular knocking and the occasional clink of glassware.  The sound grew louder as they approached a junction and Vergil motioned for them to stop.  Peering cautiously around the corner they soon realised that the passage was blocked by a large barred iron gate that cut through the entire tunnel only allowing the fluid to pass; despite a heavily rusted exterior it did not yield in the slightest to all the strength the pair could muster.  Though Vergil could easily dart between the bars, Oscar was more restricted and could only peer through intently, trying to deduce the source of the jangling. 

He did not have to wait long.  Within moments an incredibly thin figure had rounded the corner, his motion seeming to be the source of the noise.  The figure passed underneath one of the pillar candles and Oscar saw with a slight shock that it was a skeleton, the knocking a result of the haphazard gait that caused the bones to beat against each other with every step.  In one bony hand was held a manuscript, some of the leaves of which were scattered across the walkway marking a trail from whence the skeleton came.  The other hand clutched a bottle of sorts which the skeleton repeatedly raised above his head to pour a deep purple liquid down into his open bone jaws; only for the torrent to trickle through his rib cage and splatter on to the paper trail at his feet.

“It is an unfortunate soul Oscar.  Can you not see his misery?” Vergil whispered and the more Oscar stood in reflection the more he felt sorry for the aimlessly staggering form.  Without cause the skeleton crumpled to the floor at the foot of a second pillar.  It appeared to be resting against the hard marbled stone though its head and shoulders shook as though it were weeping.   Oscar was about to tear himself away from the scene when suddenly a new figure appeared beyond the gate.  Unlike the skeleton, the new figure became immediately aware of his surroundings and looked around in confusion.   It was a man, an ordinary man, with nothing spectacular or fantastical about him except his poor appearance.  He had not yet noticed the skeleton but lurched towards the gate behind which Oscar stood.  Upon seeing the boy, he launched into a torrent of desperate questions.

“Where am I?  Where am I?” The bedraggled man was confused and he shuffled closer so that his face was pressed to the bars.  “Please boy, answer me?  I am lost.”

“I'm sorry mister, this is Etian...” Oscar began but Vergil had made his way back over to them and now interrupted.

“You have passed away friend.  Do not be scared, you will soon be at rest.”  He then said to Oscar in a whisper.  “He is a mind that has died Oscar.  He needs to reunite with his Itse.  Try to leave him alone so he can find his way.”

“Passed! What on earth are you on about?”  The man looked shocked and was beginning to anger, but in less than a few seconds his expression changed and the sentence died on his lips.   He had stopped and was looking around at the floor from where he had wandered.  Stooping down, his shaking hand grasped a clump of the burgundy soaked papers the skeleton had dropped. 

“My… my works.  These are my words, my dreams.”  He followed the paper trail until he looked down on the crumpled form of bones. “I...I” he stuttered but could not finish.  The man crouched down beside the skeleton and prised the bottle out of its hands.  Though words had not passed, a deeper and more binding realisation obviously had.  The man leaned his head towards the skeletal form and wept alongside it.  He then reached out to his Itse, supporting the bony frame and assisting the soul back to its feet.  Arm in arm now - one holding the bottle, the other clasping the papers - the man and skeleton shuffled back along the passageway.  As they turned the man gave a nod back at Oscar and Vergil and then disappeared with his Itse into the dark.  Watching the bond between the reunited mind and the vulnerable soul Oscar felt a sudden longing to find his own Itse, despite Vergil's warnings about the risk, just to see if it was alright.

Turning from the gate Oscar made his way over to where Vergil now sat.  The rat was unusually quiet and appeared in no hurry to be on their way; it seemed to Oscar that he too had been upset by the event they had witnessed.

“Vergil, are you ok?” The boy tentatively asked.  For a moment he thought the rat wasn't going to answer but then he twitched before pulling himself together again.

“Yes, I'm fine, never mind.” The rat said.  He quickly got up and gestured to Oscar that they should move on, before launching into a new topic of conversation. 

“Tell, me Oscar, have you yet come to wonder why buildings and structures here only slightly resemble those you have encountered in Singeard?  Take your Institute for example, did it not seem a twisted parallel to your own?  Even these sewers; just a more elaborate form of those in your world.”  Oscar cast his mind back.  The whole of Etiainheim had been a shock, he had not really focused on the mechanics of his new environment.

“No. I cant really say I have given it any thought.
” he finally decided.

“Well, I must admit, it has taken a while for me to form an idea but I do have a theory.  You see, I think this world is the collection of all the subconscious  interpretations of what is in the physical world.  These are passed on to the Itse to form a twisted depiction of the physical realm.  It exists only through the minds and souls of people to reflect not necessarily what is observed with the eye, but how we feel and emotionally experience our surroundings.  Almost like a collective caricature.” 

Oscar frowned, trying to understand. 

“Let me go one further.”  Vergil continued.  “You see, it also took me a while to realise, that unlike minds - which are bound by the physical body - the soul is free to wander all over the soul world:  to  interact with distant loved ones or visit places where we've spent time in our past.”

“Is that what causes us to remember forgotten thoughts?” Oscar interjected, finally catching a sense of what the rat was implying.

“Interesting hypothesis, though one I have yet to solve.  It is difficult to see whether the mind commands the Itse, or vice versa.”  

Oscar no longer looked perplexed but quietly considered what Vergil had told him.  All the while the germ of an idea was forming in his mind as to how he might find his own soul, though he did not mention this to Vergil.  After all, the rat had warned him against such an unpredictable action.

The two continued their journey through the sewers, traversing what seemed to Oscar like an interminable number of tunnels.  All the while, Vergil compounded on his other theories of the two worlds; such as why animal souls adopt simplistic coloured orb like shapes; and how human Itse morph over time or after interactions with other Itse.  Oscar listened attentively, locking away each detail for future scrutiny.

“I think we are getting close to the end of this tunnel”  Vergil finally announced.  “And if memory serves me correctly then we are nearing the electroplant.  This way Oscar.”  He gestured towards a rough flight of stone steps, at the top of which Oscar could see a faint sliver of light.   They must have spent most of the past night in the sewers, he concluded, stepping up the pace in anticipation of being finally back above ground.