The Fable of Marcus



  The Fable of Marcus

  By Sajjad Tameez

  The Fable of Marcus

  By Sajjad Tameez

  Copyright 2013 BlackArrowBooks

  eBook edition

  WWW.BLACKARROWBOOKS.COM

  Chapter 1

  Escape from the cold room

  The loud ringing in his ears and the thunderous pounding of his racing heartbeat woke

  him in a panic – he sat confused. His eyes began to sting as they gradually absorbed

  the blinking light from the unfamiliar room and the stale smell of rotting corpses

  made his stomach churn.

  On his first attempt to move, he discovered a completely new definition of pain,

  which in return, forced him to patiently remain still for a little longer. He looked at the

  concrete floor next to him and noticed a small pool of blood – his blood. In horror, he

  peered at his left arm which was cut and dripping gradual droplets into the small

  reservoir. Noticing the slow speed of the drip, gave him a rough idea of how long he

  had been sitting there, unconscious and leaning up against the wall – his stomach

  repetitively rumbling was another clue.

  He noticed a small desk, a chair and a few random items scattered around, including

  what looked like the remains of a human body. He blinked rapidly, trying to stop his

  eyes from drying. He noticed a worn card next to him, it looked like some kind of ID

  card and it had ‘Marcus’ printed on it. He stuffed it in to his trousers and with a look

  of determination, he tried to get to his feet. And again, he failed.

  He screamed in agony as he dragged himself across the cold floor, leaving a trail of

  blood. Using the half-broken chair to help him to get up, he managed to sit.

  His attention was immediately drawn to a broken mirror on the table in front of him,

  and he froze in shock – he did not recognise the boy staring back at him. His hazel

  eyes lit up as he stared carefully at this young, brown skinned boy with messy dark

  hair. His forehead began to crease as he thought deeper about who he was and what

  the hell he was doing there. His puffy and dark eye circles made his eyes appear much

  smaller than they actually were and his face seemed sucked in from malnutrition. He

  knew that he had to get out of there and peered towards the door. He shuffled his body

  to slide off the chair, but the leg snapped, forcing him to fall onto the hard floor.

  Using his arms, he dragged himself along and eventually staggered up to the door.

  His hands began to sweat and thoughts of what monstrosities lay ahead buzzed

  through his head. It was either opening the door and facing the possible dangers or

  sitting here and bleeding to death – not much of a choice. The strange sounds

  appeared from outside. He placed his ear next to the door and listened carefully; it

  was like shuffling... then tapping... then banging. He stepped back and his heartbeat

  began to thump so hard that he thought it would burst out of his frail body and splatter

  everywhere – fear of who ever or whatever was approaching played recklessly on his

  mind. Then oddly, everything turned to a deadly silence. He froze, trying not to make

  a noise.

  Then, unexpectedly, the steel door slammed open. Everything became blurry and he

  began suffering from double vision; he noticed a woman standing in front of him. She

  was not very tall and had a deep tan. Her silky hair had streaks of light and dark

  brown and the subtle waves made it appear shorter than it actually was. She had a

  black strap wrapped around her black top, holding some sort of weapon; one, smaller

  than one pointing at Marcus. There was a peculiar device around her wrist; it was like

  a chunky silver watch that had steel wrapped tightly around her wrist like snakes

  choking a small animal. Her arm looked soar and there were small blisters where the

  steel appeared to be digging into her skin.

  Marcus was now not scared as much as disappointed, in that he would probably be

  shot dead by this strange woman without ever knowing the mystery of who he was or

  how on earth he ended up here.

  A tall man with long grey hair came rushing from behind, as if he had just caught up

  to her. He stared at Marcus carefully and instantly formed a subtle smile, exposing his

  pearl white teeth. Although the man had silvery white hair, he did not appear that old

  at all, the white hair did not suit his smooth skin tone at all.

  'Show me your arms, young man.' The man ordered assertively and in an outlandish

  accent. Marcus stared back confused.

  'It’s ok son, show me your arms and easy does did.' He said in a calmer tone and

  subtly reminded Marcus of the danger he was in by glancing over at the young lady

  holding the gun, which was still pointing directly at Marcus's forehead.

  Marcus had a feeling that whatever secret lay underneath his jacket may get him

  executed. He remained iced up, staring like a lost child. By now, stranger sounds

  emerged in the distance, which immediately caught their attention.

  'Your arms! Now!' The man shouted.

  Marcus shrivelled his shoulders and let the weight of the jacket pull itself down and

  fall to the ground. He dared not look at his arms as he eagerly awaited the reaction of

  the man and the lady... the lady instantly lowered the gun and was staring in shock

  and amazement. The white-haired man looked over at the lady and smiled hugely. He

  took a gentle step towards Marcus. 'What is your name?' The man asked, still staring

  in excitement.

  'Marcus... I think.' He removed the half torn ID card and held it out. The man paid no

  attention to the card and just continued staring in excitement.

  'What does this mean, Arthur?' The woman quizzed.

  'This means... it is time.'

  It is time for what? Marcus thought. But in an instant, both of their facial expressions

  changed when they heard the weird noises echoing louder in the distance.

  The man, who was now known as Arthur, removed a large handgun, 'Amy, get the

  boy.'

  Amy helped Marcus to his feet and they fled out of the room, trying to be as quiet as

  they could. Arthur was leading, pointing the gun in front of him cautiously, as if

  something was going to jump out at them any minute.

  Fear began to strike harder as the noises got louder. Arthur stopped and whispered,

  'they're too close! Amy, get him out of here. Now!' Amy stared at Arthur, petrified.

  'But...'

  'Don't argue with me. He is too important. I will distract them, now go!' He ordered.

  Amy shook her head in disapproval, 'we don't know how many there are. You won't

  have a chance!'

  Arthur smiled, and buried deep within that smile was an expression of yawning

  affection, an expression similar to the one a soldier gives to his child just before he

  rushes out and into war.

  Arthur ran in the direction from where the sounds were coming from. And then there

  were repetitive high-pitched screams that were like a cat being strangled. Amy stood

  frozen as if she needed Arthur to instruct her on what to do next.

  She blinked r
apidly as she came back to her senses, knowing that they could not stay

  there for long. She shoved Marcus along and shouted, 'move, now!'

  Marcus could feel her emotions.

  As they moved swiftly along the extensive corridors, they could hear gunshots and

  deafening shrieks followed by an ear ringing silence. Amy looked back in

  devastation; saddened, she screwed up her face in anger and dragged Marcus along.

  'What was that?' Marcus asked. She didn’t reply.

  'Who am I?' Marcus asked, frustrated.

  'Shut up and keep moving.'

  'No seriously, I want to know what's going on. Who am I?'

  'Listen to me!' She yelled, gripping him aggressively up against the wall. 'Coz of you,

  one of the best warriors we had is now...'

  Why would anyone sacrifice their life for me? Marcus thought, all the while hoping

  that she would loosen her surprisingly firm grip. After a few moments, she began to

  calm, her complexion turned from bright red to a more natural tone, her eyes,

  although still blood-shot, began to ease up, and she unchained her eyebrows.

  'Look, I'm sorry. It's just that Arthur and I have been friends for many years. He saved

  my life many times. He... he has been like a father to me. But I am being stupid, he

  was right in doing what he did, you are what this world needs, so let’s move.'

  This clearly didn't answer any questions that Marcus had; nonetheless, he was

  relieved that she didn't squeeze the life out him.