Fighting Pax. Robin Jarvis

old Englishman, lying deathly still, with Maggie crouched at his side, tearfully calling his name. Finally he saw Eun-mi, shielding her sister from the surrounding horrors.

      Shakily, the General stepped towards them. His head was buzzing and felt light and giddy. A cold breath blew on the back of his neck and the corridor seemed to peel away, revealing the blue sky of a summer day where the towers of a white castle rose tall and majestic.

      General Chung yelled in protest and he was in the corridor once more. The words of the book were burning inside his mind, consuming his will and strength. He clenched his teeth and swayed unsteadily. He had to fight it, he had to resist. He had to stop the destruction of everything he was, stop that overwhelming, leaching force.

      Raising a quaking hand, he shot Doctor Choe Soo-jin through the head. She dropped like a stone. At once, and without blinking, one of the guards with her picked up the accursed book and continued reading from where she had left off.

      Shafts of sunlight came breaking through the crackled paint of the ceiling. Birds were singing in the trees. The General’s shoulders sagged and his legs bowed. The infernal words were raging through his brain.

      His thick eyebrows clashed and he snarled in agony. The torment of resisting was unbearable. Shrieking, he snatched up Gerald’s discarded rifle and emptied the magazine into the guards and technicians. He had to silence the words. He had to save the Republic from the contagion of this foul, Western disease.

      Breathing hard, he let the AK-47 fall. But the words had not been silenced. A single voice was still reciting the opening passage from Dancing Jax.

      Once more the paint flaked from above and sunlight came streaming in. He heard a lute playing and happy voices singing.

      “No!” he raged.

      The General threw off his hat and clawed his scalp. He would not be able to resist much longer. Desperate and driven half mad, he turned to that one remaining voice and raised his pistol to silence it.

      Still held tightly in Eun-mi’s arms, Little Nabi’s glassy, doll-like eyes stared back at her father as she chanted Austerly Fellows’ bewitching words.

      General Chung lurched forward and pressed the gun to her young forehead.

      “Stop!” he ordered. “Stop!”

      Eun-mi could not believe what he was doing.

      “No, Father!” she begged.

      “Stop!” he repeated when the six-year-old continued as if he was not there.

      Terrified by his insane, murderous expression, Eun-mi covered her sister’s mouth and implored him to put the pistol down.

      The General glared at her. There was a demented light in his eyes and she hardly recognised him. His nostrils quivered and he sniffed her suspiciously. Why was she not affected? Why was she still in control? Couldn’t she hear the songbirds? Couldn’t she feel the sunshine beating down? How could she stop her feet from skipping to the merry tune of the minstrels? All the other young maidens were cavorting on the green with their gallants. What was she? Why was she different?

      “Ab… b… aberrant,” he stuttered thickly and he began to growl.

      “Father!” Eun-mi wept.

      “I am the Six of Clubs – head bowman of the outer wall!”

      “No, Father! Come back to us!”

      The sunlight dimmed and the man shivered. He moved the gun from Nabi’s head and put it against his own. This was the only escape for him.

      “Don’t!” Eun-mi yelled.

      Reaching out to him, her other hand slipped from Nabi’s mouth. The six-year-old instantly resumed spouting Dancing Jax.

      General Chung’s face contorted. In an unhinged fury, he rounded on Nabi again. The barrel of the gun pushed against her temple and his finger closed over the trigger.

      “Father!” Eun-mi screamed.

      A single shot blasted out.

      Cowering with terror and filled with despair, Maggie was nursing Gerald’s head in her lap. He was deathly pale and it was too dark to tell if he was breathing. With jittery fingers, she fumbled for a pulse, but couldn’t find one. The gunshot cut through her desolate sobbing and she turned to see General Chung Kang-dae slump lifeless to the floor. A thin wisp of smoke was rising from Eun-mi’s own pistol.

      Eun-mi’s eyes were wet and sparkling, but she appeared frozen and unaware of what she had done. Then, slowly, she tilted her head and stared at the weapon in her hand. At that moment nothing else existed for her, just the gun and the painful scratch of her own voice as it tried to howl.

      Nabi disentangled herself from her grasp and stepped casually over their father’s body.

      “I am the Five of Spades,” she chirped dreamily. “I am naughty Posy, the Constable’s daughter. I spy on everyone in the castle and know all their secrets. Blessed be.”

      The six-year-old retrieved the copy of Dancing Jax from the dead guard then strode past her trembling sister, to join the unicorn and the soldiers who were anxious to hear more of the sacred text. Little Nabi greeted them with a gurgling laugh. Cheering, they lifted her on to the skeleton’s back and she rode haughtily through the tunnels – towards the main concourse and the booth that housed the microphone for the tannoy system.

      In the refectory, the other refugees finally dared to creep from under the tables and ventured to the doorway. With horrified faces, they looked out at the carnage in the corridor.

      Maggie was huddled over Gerald, stroking his forehead – bereft and grieving.

      “In fields where they lay,” she sang in a halting, tuneless whisper, “keeping their sheep. On a cold winter’s night that was so deep.”

      The girl wiped her streaming eyes.

      “Goodbye, Gerald,” she sniffled. “You’re safe now. Safe from DJ. Reckon I’ll be seeing you soon. We’ll have a merry Christmas then, won’t we, eh? Me, you, my Marcus and Charm. Give them my love and don’t start on those chocolate mincies till I get there. Promise me now.”

      Throughout the mountain base the tannoy crackled into life and little Nabi’s voice began to read…

       9

      LEE WAS JOLTED AWAKE. His four guards were yelling and shaking him roughly. He looked up and found himself lying on the ground, with them standing over him. Their young faces were angry, fearful and wrought with panic. Shouting at him in Korean, they pulled on the chains attached to his wrists and forced him to sit upright.

      “Quit that!” the boy barked at them, giving the chains a vicious tug back that almost wrenched the nearest guard off balance. “Give me a second to wake the hell up. I feel like crap.”

      Ignoring their continued cries, he looked about. It was a deliciously warm afternoon and they were in a forest. All around them, the leaves were intense shades of gold, red and orange and the sky was an unbelievable blue. Beneath the branches, fallen chestnut casings were in abundance, split open – displaying cream-coloured flesh and the fattest, shiniest, chocolaty-brown fruits. A faint and delicate scent of sweet-smelling woodsmoke laced the air, combining with the damp must of rich, fertile earth. Early autumn in Mooncaster was a ravishing feast for the senses, just like every season here.

      Lee felt nauseous. This time the crossing had been different. He still felt groggy and exhausted and bile burned the back of his throat. Remaining seated, he shifted around and saw that the trees stretched far into the distance in every direction. Whatever forest this was, they were deep in the middle of it. He had no idea exactly whereabouts in Mooncaster they were. There was no landmark in sight to help him.

      “Don’t matter,” he told himself. “We ain’t hangin’ here longer