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  Sweat trickled down her brow.

  “Where’s the other one?” Baldilocks said, marching through the crowd. He glanced at Eda for a second and then his eyes lingered on the road, as if he was expecting more to come. “Where’s the Bank Manager?”

  “She’s dead,” Number 64 said, leading Eda over to Baldilocks. “They ran onto the hunting grounds and the Bank Manager got caught in one of our circle traps. By the time we found her it was too late.”

  Baldilocks cursed quietly. Then his attention fell upon Eda and he scowled, as if Becky’s death had been her fault.

  “Uncle Sam won’t be happy about that,” he said. “He won’t be happy at all and here we were today, hoping yet again that this was going to the last sacrifice. Not likely. And what about those fierce bitches? Have they been taken care of?”

  Number 64 grimaced, his youthful face aging by ten years.

  “There was a battle,” he said. “We caught up with them on the hunting grounds and…I’ve never seen anything like it. They’re dead, all of them, but we took heavy losses on the way. Most are dead, if not dying.”

  Number 64 looked at Baldilocks. Eda caught the fire in his eyes, even if no one else did.

  “My dad’s dead. They’re all dead. This right here – all of us – is all that’s left of the Children.”

  There were a few gasps from within the crowd. A barrage of frantic voices whispered back and forth, enquiring after the numbers they knew who were absent.

  Baldilocks stood silent while the crowd panicked. But Eda saw the restrained horror spilling down the edges of the man. All the color had drained out of him upon hearing news of his people. She also noticed how he couldn’t look at Number 64. Not since the boy told him about his dad.

  And yet he didn’t let the emotion spill out. His face remained cold, like a block of stone.

  He pointed towards Eda.

  “Bring her over here,” he said. “And keep that dog back.”

  “The dog’s with me now,” Number 64 said.

  Baldilocks didn’t dispute the matter. After what had happened to Number 64’s dad, he wasn’t in a position to deny the boy anything.

  “Uncle Sam is waiting for you,” Baldilocks said, glaring at Eda.

  He turned around and led them back towards the crater’s lip. The other Children followed in a daze, still reeling in shock about the fate of their friends and family.

  “We must finish it,” Baldilocks said. “Uncle Sam will make it right, but only if we finish this. We must apologize and offer the President to him immediately. Quickly, quickly…c’mon!”

  Number 64 walked behind Baldilocks, the sword jabbing at Eda’s throat. They stopped at the edge and Eda realized she was back where she’d started that day with Becky, Mike and Murphy. It was hard to believe she was the only one left.

  The small crowd formed a line about twenty feet back. At Baldilocks’ command, they pulled the dog masks over their faces again. When it was done, Eda could still hear some of them muttering frantically to one another about what had happened. The doubt was tangible; it spilled out of the crowd like steam from boiling water.

  “Bring her to the edge,” Baldilocks said to Number 64. “Closer, c’mon!”

  The last Sinner, aka The President of the United States, stood as far as it was possible to go without falling over the edge. As there was no rope left to bind her wrists, Baldilocks commanded Number 64 to keep a tight hold of her.

  One of the boy’s arms was locked tight around Eda’s waist. The other held the sword at her throat.

  “How unfortunate,” Baldilocks said, addressing the spectators, “that we’ve been forced to keep Uncle Sam waiting today. Perhaps the tragic loss of our brothers and sisters, something that we will have time to mourn properly later, is a fitting punishment. We got complacent. Lazy. All of us. Just like people did before the war. I’m afraid to say it my friends, but with everything that’s happened, I doubt very much that this year will be the last. Such a pity. Such a tragedy that we have to send the Seekers out again. We can only hope that the Great One won’t ask for any more than four souls next year.”

  Baldilocks turned to face Eda. He lowered the Uncle Sam mask over his face and held a wrinkled hand out.

  “Where’s the dagger?” he asked. “The one you stole from our late friend, Number 47. Where is it girl?”

  Because of the sword at her throat, Eda’s head was tilted at a tight angle. Blood poured to one side of her skull. She had to resist the sensation of the world spinning and hold it together for a little longer.

  “I must have dropped it when I ran off,” she said.

  Baldilocks clicked his fingers and one of the dog masks stepped out of the crowd. They came over and handed Baldilocks a short sword.

  “This will have to do,” Baldilocks said. The weapon was spotless, like it had never been used before.

  Eda stared at Baldilocks, not daring to blink. She took slow, deep breaths to keep control of her temper. It wouldn’t help anyone if she blew her top too early.

  Baldilocks adjusted the red, white and blue mask. His hands, covered in dirt, dusted down the lapels of his matching jacket.

  “The Seeker who brought this Sinner to us is dead,” he called out. “Number 64, since you returned her to us, will you take this weapon from me and deliver the Sinner to Uncle Sam?”

  “I will,” Number 64 said.

  Eda swallowed hard.

  Baldilocks walked towards her, his mad, dazzling eyes peering out from behind the eyeholes of the mask.

  He offered the short sword to Number 64.

  “Put that foreign blade away,” he said, gesturing towards the katana. His voice dripped with contempt. “The offering must be pure and so we use our own weapons. Besides, those women have offended the Great One by spilling the blood of the Children on this holy site. And they did it with that sword. It belongs to Uncle Sam now.”

  Baldilocks came closer. His arm was fully extended as he offered the short sword, hilt first, to Number 64.

  “Take it.”

  Number 64 didn’t move.

  With a grunt, Baldilocks stabbed the sword in Number 64’s direction, hurrying the boy along. Eda couldn’t see the old man’s face but she imagined that his bulbous, insect eyes were frowning.

  “Take it for God’s sake,” he said. His voice was muffled. The tension in the air however, that was as clear as crystal.

  “Are you going to keep Uncle Sam waiting?” Baldilocks said. His nasal voice cracked with emotion.

  Eda inhaled slowly, picking up the toxic fumes off her suit. She still smelled of the ungodly river but that was the least of her worries.

  “What’s wrong with you boy? TAKE the sword!”

  A burst of energy shot up and down Eda’s body. It was a primitive response, a signal deep inside, readying her for action.

  “Now,” she cried out.

  To Eda’s relief, the sharp blade was pulled away from her neck. She heard Number 64 stagger backwards, as well as a chorus of loud gasping noises from the crowd.

  “What…?” Baldilocks yelled. The mask stared at her, frozen in a devilish grin.

  Eda charged towards Baldilocks and when she closed the distance, she threw a murderous right hand at his jaw. The blow connected flush and Eda’s hand exploded with a sharp pain. There was a muffled grunt as Baldilocks reeled backwards under the force of the shot. Eda hit him again, this time in the ribs. The sword fell out of Baldilocks’ hand as he doubled over in pain. One more punch to the face and he dropped onto his backside.

  “Monster!” Eda yelled.

  She reached into the inside pocket of her suit and pulled out the sacrificial dagger. It felt like it was made of paper after carrying the short sword for so long. Eda rushed over and yanked Baldilocks up to his feet. There was no weight to the man as she took a hold of his shoulders, trying to keep him upright as he staggered on jelly legs.

  Some of the Children came forward, their swords drawn. Confusion on their faces.r />
  Eda thrust the edge of the dagger against Baldilocks’ throat. Then she backed away towards the crater. The advancing Children stopped in unison.

  Number 10 pulled off her dog mask and stepped ahead of the crowd. Her jaw dropped in disbelief. It looked like she was saying something but Eda couldn’t make out the words.

  Since lowering the sword, Number 64 meanwhile, had put considerable distance between himself and the crater’s edge. He’d already dropped the katana and now he stood alone on the outskirts, watching events unfold with a fearful expression. His face screamed, what have I done?

  “One more death,” Eda called out to the Children. She pressed the dagger tighter against Baldilocks’ neck, not caring if she’d torn the skin or not already. “Uncle Sam needs one more death.”

  “Help me!” Baldilocks roared. He eyeballed the crowd through his mask.

  “Shut up,” Eda said. “Listen to me everyone. Uncle Sam is real, I know that now. But here’s something you don’t know – he doesn’t just speak to Baldilocks. I heard his voice today. I heard it in this godforsaken swamp. Why else would I come back here if not for divine intervention? Huh? Want to know what he said to me? He said a name – one name. He told me who had to die to atone for what happened today. It’s the person who’s responsible for all this – Frank Church. And what Uncle Sam wants, Uncle Sam gets. Isn’t that right Frank?”

  She shook Baldilocks like he was a ragdoll. Keeping the knife to his throat, she used her other hand to tear the Uncle Sam mask off his face. Without thinking twice, Eda tossed the mask into the hole behind her.

  Baldilocks’ eyes were ablaze with terror. She could smell stale meat on his breath as he gasped for air.

  “Help me!”

  Eda twisted Baldilocks’ head back, forcing him to look down into the jaws of Uncle Sam. There were specks of fresh debris barely visible at the bottom – Mike and Murphy perhaps? David was down there too somewhere, alongside the bones of all the other victims over the past thirty years.

  “Are you ready?” Eda said.

  Baldilocks screamed. “NO!”

  “Uncle Sam says yes you are.”

  Eda turned to the crowd – a galley of stunned faces, some of them on the brink of insanity judging by their horrified expressions. Number 10 appeared to be the calmest of all. She was watching events unfold with an intense, thoughtful expression. Almost detached.

  “Uncle Sam commands this of us,” Eda said. “That’s what he told me today. This man here failed to do what he was supposed to do. The sacrifice was a failure – the Bank Manager was taken by others. The President got away. And here’s the worst thing – Uncle Sam told me he warned Baldilocks about the ambush weeks ago but your great leader here didn’t believe that anyone would dare do such a thing in the Meadows. You hear that? He was too arrogant to protect you. That’s why your friends and family are dead today.”

  Eda dug her boots into the ground, spreading her legs out to retain balance. The smallest misstep and she was a goner.

  “The Great One is angry,” Eda said. “He’s so fucking angry right now. Can’t you feel it? Can’t you see it all around you?”

  “Liar!” Baldilocks said. “Don’t listen to a word she says.”

  “Uncle Sam!” Eda cried out, shouting as loud as she’d ever done. She no longer sounded like herself – she sounded like Baldilocks. “Uncle Sam! I have the last Sinner right here.”

  “She’s a fraud!” Baldilocks said, fixing the crowd with a petrified stare. “Uncle Sam talks to me. Only me! You know it’s true – help me for God’s sake. I took you with me all those years ago – I forgave you, I saved you…”

  Eda laughed – a deep, hearty rumbling noise that cut Baldilocks off in mid-speech. She looked over her shoulder. There was nothing between them and the long fall to the graveyard below.

  “Frank Church!” she said. “It’s time.”

  “God, no! Please no!”

  “You are the President of the United States. You are the fourth Sinner. Go down into the…”

  “No!”

  “Why not?” Eda yelled. She pulled him so close that her lips grazed against his rubbery skin. “Why shouldn’t I throw you in?”

  Baldilocks shook his head. “Uncle Sam…”

  “The Great One speaks only to me now,” Eda said, running the tip of the blade over Baldilocks’ exposed jugular vein. It was so fat that it looked like the man had a piece of taut rope trapped in his throat. “Please accept our apologies for today. We, the Children, sacrifice this man and beg…”

  “Stop!” Baldilocks screamed like a frightened animal.

  “Why?” Eda said. Rage spilled out of her like hot lava. “Why? Why? Why?”

  “Because...”

  “Speak up.”

  Silence.

  Eda squeezed the handle of the dagger. “Fuck it,” she said. “You’re going in there you piece of shit.”

  “No!”

  “Why not Frank? He called your name today. Uncle Sam called your name.”

  “He didn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “No…”

  “Why not?”

  “BECAUSE HE’S NOT REAL!”

  Eda had never heard anyone scream so loud. Instantly, she let the old man go and threw him down on the dirt. Baldilocks landed on his knees and without looking up, buried his face deep in his hands. “I made it up,” he said. “I made it up dammit! Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted?”

  He began to sob into the back of his hands.

  Eda just stood there, listening to him cry. Gradually, the weeping burned out into a faint whimper.

  Eda walked over and crouched down beside Baldilocks. She looked into the crowd of Children who hadn’t moved. Their faces were eerily calm, as if the shock had passed. Nobody had moved since Baldilocks’ confession. They were all just watching from afar.

  “Say that again,” Eda said, tearing the man’s hands away from his face. “Just to make sure everyone understands.”

  When he didn’t speak, Eda stood up and kicked him in the ribs. Hard. Baldilocks collapsed onto the dirt again, coughing his lungs up.

  “Say it again,” Eda said. “I’ll throw you into that hole anyway, but not for Uncle Sam. For Becky, Mike, Murphy and all the other people who died here because of your bullshit.”

  “He’s not real,” Baldilocks croaked.

  “There is no Uncle Sam?” Eda said. “He never spoke to you. Is that right?”

  “Yes.”

  Eda looked at the crowd again, expecting to see at least a little shock register on their faces. There were only sad, almost empty expressions. They stood there in their robes, looking back at the broken man with an impersonal fascination.

  She began to wonder – had they really known all along? Eda had suspected it but she hadn’t dared to believe it was true. Had these people known from the start? Had they chosen to believe in Uncle Sam because it was easier to live with a demon under the ground than it was to live in the real world?

  Number 10 turned around and whispered into the ears of several of the others. Muted exchanges took place. Heads nodded. Eda wondered if they might come over and throw Baldilocks into the hole themselves. That would have been something. But they didn’t – the surviving Children simply began to walk away from the crater.

  After about a hundred yards, Number 10 stopped and turned around. She beckoned Number 64 to go with them. To Eda’s surprise, the boy ran over to them, smiling with relief at not being shut out. He walked away with the crowd, their arms locked around one another in solidarity.

  Number 10 held back, staring over at Eda.

  “Why don’t you come with us?” she called out. There was no emotion in her voice. “It’ll be easier out there in a large group of people.”

  “Go with you?” Eda asked. “Didn’t you guys just try to kill me?”

  Her words hit the mark.

  “Understood,” Number 10 said.

  “A lot of people died here,�
�� Eda said. “Nothing’s ever going to change that.”

  “I know.”

  “So where will you go?” Eda said. “Where will you take them?”

  “Far away from here,” Number 10 said.

  The white-haired woman turned around and caught up with the rest of her people. Together they trudged back towards the road, exhausted and grieving. Some of them glanced over their shoulder, taking a final look at Baldilocks. Or at the giant crater. Most of them didn’t look back.

  Eda turned around.

  Baldilocks was sitting in the dirt. His head was still buried in his hands, although he wasn’t crying anymore. Frankie Boy was nearby watching him closely. The dog’s head tilted with curiosity when Baldilocks let out the occasional, high-pitched groan.

  Eda went over and sat down beside him, a few feet apart. She placed the katana at her side, out of Baldilocks’ reach.

  He rubbed his bloodshot eyes and looked at her.

  “Judge me all you like,” he said, in a tired, beaten voice. “But you don’t know what it was like for me before the war. You can’t ever know. The way people treated me, Jesus. I tell you, the End War was the best thing that ever happened to me. It turned this street bum into a prophet overnight. Suddenly, I was somebody.”

  “Yeah,” Eda said.

  “Purpose,” Baldilocks said, nodding. “A sense of purpose, that’s all I ever sought out of this poxy life. Without it, we’re empty inside. Driftwood, going nowhere on a big cruel ocean. But in here after the war, I was complete. For the first time in my life people looked at me the way I’ve always wanted them to look at me. They thought I was a prophet. I took them out of the towns and cities and built this community because that’s what they wanted me to do. They wanted this. We lived the End War, believing what we believed.”

  “But it was all a lie,” Eda said. “Thing is, I think they knew that from the start. I guess worshipping a hole in the ground and sacrificing four people a year seemed tame compared to life outside the swamp. That’s the world we live in I guess.”

  Eda watched Baldilocks rocking backwards and forwards. His eyes were blank. He clenched his teeth like he was experiencing physical pain. It was as if all the ghosts he’d buried in the crater over the years were creeping out, their faces appearing between the cracks of his mind, clambering for revenge.