Chapter 2Father Mallory

  “Jonah Jacobson,” a deep voice said sharply with a hint of annoyance in it. “Do you know how long I have been waiting here, for you to come down off that damned bell tower? What the hell were you thinking boy? Climbing around up there like you’re some kind of animal. You are going to get yourself hurt and on church property ne’er the less. If your poor mother were alive today what would she think? Hmm?”

  Reaching a hand up to rub his head where he had been whacked, he looked at the speaker. It was a little old man in priest robes who possessed the deep voice. The old man held a sturdy ruler in his right hand which was presumably the implement that he had struck Jonah with.

  “Hello, Father Mallory,” he replied, mouth breaking into a goofy grin. “I never really got to know my mother all that well, so I don't know what she would have said, you of all people should know that. As for what I was doing up there, I just wanted some fresh air and the bell tower gets me the freshest air in the city coupled with quite the lovely view. Sometimes I feel almost as if I am floating above the city when I am up there.”

  “Bah, you're daft boy,” Father Mallory responded tapping the ruler he held against his left hand. “And don't you be thinking I don't know that you were out and about, all the while neglecting your duties here. Now, get to mopping boy, and when you finish with that there are some brass candle sticks need to be polished in the workshop.” Father Mallory pointed to a mop bucket with soapy water in it and the mop that was leaning against the wall beside it.

  Jonah sighed, walked over to the bucket and began mopping the floor to the sanctuary dutifully knowing he owed the old man much more then the little bit of cleaning he did around the church made up for.

  When Jonah was eight years of age, Father Mallory had caught him stealing tithes given to the church. Those tithes were supposed to go to help feed the less fortunate citizens of New Cardeth as they struggled to keep food in the bellies of them and their children. The tithes also helped them to stay out of jail for not giving the city its due by assisting them in paying the heavy taxes the city demanded. Jonah had figured at the time that since he had no parents and was living off the scraps that people were kind enough to toss him, a portion of that coin should, naturally, go to him. So, as he reached his hand into the collections box to take his share, he felt the sharp crack on the back of his head that made stars dance before his eyes. It was the ruler that Father Mallory always seemed to have hidden about his person, waiting for the right time to strike anyone who dared to misbehave. Once Jonah’s head cleared the good Father began to question him while at the same time threatening to turn him into the Authority for theft, where Jonah would most likely lose one of his hands since it was his first time being caught, if Jonah didn’t answer the Father's questions truthfully. Jonah was so terrified of being turned in that he answered every question honestly, telling Father Mallory about the death of his parents two years prior when they had been cut down by a group of strange creatures that had wandered into the edge of the fields they were working in, where the fields met the wastend.

  #

  Father Mallory had been in the fields that day; passing fresh water out to the workers to keep them hydrated. He remembered the attack. He remembered the strange creatures with their metamorphic flesh that wriggled and writhed causing them to look as though they were pulsating. Some of them had multiple sets of arms, legs or the occasional extra head that would form before melting back into their body, as if it could not settle on one appendage to keep over the other.

  They seemed to rise out of the wastend from nowhere. No one, not even the perimeter guards that were assigned to watch the wastes saw them coming. The guards were the first to die, as the creatures rose up out of the wastes, ripping, tearing and shredding the bodies of some of the guards as the creatures tore through their armor as if it were mere etching foil. Others they absorbed into the folds of their flesh, the peoples screaming faces joining the others writhing beneath the creatures skin. The guards didn't stand a chance.

  The workers closest to the edge of the fields fell next, before they even realized what was happening. The workers a little further in saw what was happening but could not leave before they were released from the toils of their bor by their foremen. The horrors that surged forward like a wave on the ocean, moving to cim all in their path.

  Father Mallory was with the next group to be attacked, most of which did not survive the day. Father Mallory himself had been grabbed around the ankle by one of the creatures. Its flesh rippled as it tched onto him before the flesh began to creep slowly up the Father’s leg as he watched on in horror. All sensation left the area around wherever the creature’s flesh touched. Grabbing a nearby hoe, he began to strike the creature, but it only grinned hideously with one of it’s many faces, showing him rows of sharp teeth within a mouth that seemed to stretch for infinity while opening into a bottomless pit of a throat. Seeing he was getting nowhere striking the creature, Father Mallory proceeded to use the hoe to lop off his own leg just above the knee, knowing if he did not then he wouldn’t survive the day.

  That was when The Authority finally showed up with their steam powered mobile cannons and fire throwing backpacks to beat the creatures back into the wastends. The creature that had attacked Father Mallory was burned by one of the fire throwers and the heat had been so intense that all the hair on Father Mallory's head had been singed off and he sported the equivalent of bad sunburn where ever his flesh had been exposed to the heat. His leg, where he had cut it, was cauterized and some of his clothing even caught on fire from the intense bst of heat.

  After the creature was confirmed to be dead, Father Mallory was taken, along with the other survivors, to a nearby hospital where they were treated for their wounds and promptly interrogated about had happened once they were deemed to be well or coherent enough to recount the events. Some of the survivors were driven mad by the attack and, once it was clear they would not gather their wits anytime soon, The Authority made sure to put a bullet in their skull, lest they be a drain on society. Father Mallory was given a crude crutch to support the weight that his right leg had once held before he was told that it was his time to report to The Authority. He made his way down the hall and into the little room where he was grilled for hours by The Authority about the incident. When they decided he had given them all the information that he could, they released him, telling him that it was in his best interests to not tell anyone the details of the attack. He made his way back to the church to rest and before his head had even hit his pillow, rumors were starting to spread throughout the city about the incident.

  #

  It was months after that incident before Father Mallory could sleep a full night without waking from nightmares of the day of the attack. Maybe that was why he had taken pity on the poor scrap of a boy that had tried to steal money from the collection box in the church. After all, the boy had just been struggling to survive after the only family he had known had been ripped from him in that swift and violent attack.

  Father Mallory decided to take little Jonah in giving him a roof over his head and a meal in his belly every day since. All that the good Father asked of him in return was that Jonah help him clean around the church and keep it in good repair as long as the boy lived under its roof.

  Ever since then Jonah had lived with the Father, helping him out with whatever needed to be done around the church, but no matter how much Father Mallory tried to instill values of hard work and bor in Jonah, he still persisted in his thievery. He could not help it, he told himself on a regur basis, it was too much fun to be able to successfully pull off a job, no matter how small, and not get caught, plus he did good works with the money that he got from the thefts. After one particur job, Jonah had made enough money fencing the goods though the merchants that had come in on boats from the city of New Babylon to the south, that he was able to pay for materials that he had then taken to a tinker that lived in the Bowler district, right next to Low-town. Once the tinker had finished the job, Jonah had presented the object he had commissioned to Father Mallory, a gift to thank him for taking in and dedicating himself to raising that young boy that had tried to steal from the church many years prior. The look on Father Mallory's face had been worth all the work Jonah had put into the job to get the money and parts as he unwrapped the oil cloth from the clockwork leg that was designed to repce the Fathers missing leg from thigh down. Father Mallory had never asked Jonah where he had gotten the clockwork leg and Jonah had never offered to tell, knowing that the Father would not like the answer.

  Jonah smiled, thinking about the day he gave the clockwork limb to Father Mallory, as he finished up mopping the floor, then moved to the small workshop that was connected to the back of the church where the Father had id the candle sticks out that needed to be polished. Settling in for a long night of polishing, Jonah mentally started to plot his next job, there would be no monetary gain in this one since he knew he would never be able to sell the stone, this one was just for the thrill of it.

  If I succeed, Jonah thought to himself, I will be the first to have robbed a nation of its national treasure. I will be in possession of a stone like that that no man has ever possessed before. Hmm, maybe I'll look into that legend a bit more once I have the stone; after all they cim it is a key. Maybe the girl they say it will lead to will have been buried with more treasure. Just as long as she doesn't rise up to defend the treasure I should be ok, I think.

  Jonah shivered at the thought of an ancient undead stalking a tomb full of treasure. He had heard about the hordes of undead that pgue the cities south of New Babylon. Nothing seemed to stop the undead, according to the stories, except fire or a bullet to the head. The older they are the more resilient to damage and the smarter they seem to become. Dismemberment had been tried in the past but apparently the parts of the body would keep attacking as if each part had a mind of their own, but if you destroyed the head, everything it had controlled stopped moving. That was not something Jonah relished the thought of, but the temptation of long-lost treasure was almost too tempting of a thought to pass up on, even if there may be some ancient undead roaming the tomb.

  If there is some old dead thing there, I guess I could just run as if the devil himself were chasing me, Jonah figured. After all, if it's dead and dried up, how fast can it be? The ones to the south move at a fairly slow pace from the stories I've heard.

  Turning his attention back to the candle sticks, Jonah sighed. Tomorrow, he decided, he will go to visit one of his contacts that worked in the Merchant district to gather information about the safest path to Ib. Also, he would see if he could track down the information about the general yout of Ib so that he could stay retively out of sight before he was ready to strike. The less people that knew he was around the better, and in Ib, Jonah knew he would stand out.

  Jonah knew from stories that the Ibians tend to look suspiciously upon outsiders due to the way they were treated when the first explorers crossed the wastends and found their great metallic city a few hundred years ago. Retions had improved since then, after all merchants could now openly travel to Ib from New Cardeth for trade and there were even stories of trade routes being built to Ib from New Babylon. Occasionally a merchant from Ib will come to the city for trade as well, though they are constantly watched by The Authority as well as New Cardeth citizens that have been convinced that any Ibian is up to no good.

  Finishing up the st candle stick, Jonah put everything away and cleaned up the workshop before leaving. He headed to his small bedroom toward the back of the church, just past Father Mallory’s room. As he walked down the hallway that lead to his room he noticed light shining out from under the door leading to Father Mallory's room. Knowing that the old man was usually asleep in bed around this time, Jonah cautiously knocked on the door.

  “Father?” Jonah called softly when there was no reply to his knocking.

  Cautiously opening the door, he could see the back of the old man sitting in his reading chair with several lit candles on the small table beside him.

  “Father?” Jonah called again this time with a little more force behind it.

  The old man did not stir.

  Jonah walked slowly around the chair that Father Mallory sat in so that he could see the old man's face and a chill crawled down his spine. Father Mallory sat with his head bowed, chin touching his chest. His reading spectacles still sitting on the bridge of his nose, in his p sat a weathered and worn Bible, opened to the story of the Last Supper. Jonah reached out a hand calmly and gave Father Mallory a gentle shake, noticing how cold the old man felt to the touch.

  Fighting back a tear, Jonah gave him one st shake, this time violently. Father Mallory's body slumped forward, threatening the fall out of the chair before Jonah caught it gently. With his heart heavy from grief, Jonah pick the body up, and moved it over to the bed, ying it down gently before pulling the old man’s spectacles off and pcing them on the bedside table. Walking back to the chair he picked up the Bible from where it had fallen on the floor, then closing the book, he walked over and id it on Father Mallory's chest, quietly saying a prayer for the good Father's soul. Walking back over to the candles, he blew them out before leaving the room and closing the door softly.

  Jonah had known this day was coming, the Father was old, though Jonah had not known exactly how old, but he knew that Father Mallory was old enough to be toward the end of his life. Jonah had a sneaking suspicion that Father Mallory had known it was coming soon considering some of the things he had said in recent days about being ready to go home and reminding Jonah on a nearly daily basis that he would not be around forever.

  Jonah looked back at the door to Father Mallory's room feeling an emptiness in his soul, knowing he would never be able to sit down and share his troubles, joys, or fears with the old man again. Feeling something wet roll down his cheek he reached up to wipe the tear away, knowing Father Mallory would not want him to cry. The old man had lived a full and happy life for the most part. He had kept mostly out of the sights of The Authority and therefor had been left alone when any trouble arose in the district that the church sat in. Jonah shook his head in disgust, knowing that when the Father’s body was found, The Authority would swarm over the building looking for any clues that could possibly suggest foul py, just so that they would have the chance to justify singling out someone for them to torment.

  In his room, Jonah packed up all his belongings then cleaned it thoroughly, trying to erase all traces that could identify him to The Authority. If The Authority was going to try to find anyone to accuse, Jonah would be right at the top of the list. He was known in the district to have been a trouble maker when he was younger and, as he had gotten older, people still seemed ready to think the worst of the boy that was orphaned and taken in by the Father.

  When he had cleaned the room to his satisfaction, Jonah climbed into his bed for the st time and fell asleep.

  The next morning Jonah arose early, gathered his things, then gave the room a once over. Satisfied that he had erased all traces that could lead back to him, he left the church heading to the Merchant district to gather the information he needed before leaving the city forever.

  #

  In Father Mallory's room on the floor just beneath his reading chair, a small piece of paper sat in the same spot as it had nded when it fell out of the Bible after the book had fallen to the floor. It sat there waiting to be found, waiting, for three days until it was found by The Authority as they came to looking for the old priest that locals cimed had vanished mysteriously.

  One of the officers picked up the paper up and gently unfolded it revealing the following message...

  “To Jonah, my son if in name only, I know I am nearing the end of my life as I write this. Don't morn me son, my passing will be a relief for these old bones as I will go home to be with the Father God and I’ll be in Heaven where all these aches and pains I feel won't exist anymore. Instead, rejoice in my passing and know that one day, we shall see each other once again.

  “Now on to the purpose of this paper. Son, I want you to make sure all of my possessions, with the exception of my old Bible, are sold off and all the money of given back to the community. The people who work hard to keep this city running and fed should have something given back to them. As for my Bible, I want you to have it. Ever since I took you in I have known that you did not care much for the words of the Lord, but you have always respected my belief and never once ridiculed me for it. I want you to have my Bible so that you can take it with you to remember me by and maybe one day, you too will find comfort in the words of the Lord as I have throughout my life. I love you my son, I will miss you.

  “Till we meet again, Father Mallory”