Chapter 25
Klim walked his way calmly around the cave, looking at everything like a customer in an antique store. Less than five minutes had passed before he heard pounding feet approaching down the tunnel outside the cave. Klim went to the door as if greeting guests.
“Don’t move! Place your hands against the wall!” said the first officer to arrive.
“Pat him down,” the man directed towards those he commanded, before touching a voice pad on his jacket. He placed two fingers on his ear piece to initiate contact with the incoming voices.
“We have the area secured. Yes, sir. One body and one survivor. Outlocked involvement. Understood.” The policeman took his finger from the earpiece and turned to his subordinates.
“Out! Now! Seal off the whole area! No-one in or out! We’ve got the Chairman on his way to see for himself.” The policeman came close to Klim who was still standing with his hands on the wall above his head and his feet well apart.
“The Chairman asked that you wait inside until he gets here. He wants to speak to you, personally. Don’t touch anything,” the officer said with menace in his voice. Klim moved into the cave and sat quietly on the same plastic crate that he’d earlier tried to use as a weapon.
Outside the cave, the officers began a series of well-drilled protocols. A ribbon of neon plastic was placed over the entrance, effectively locking Klim inside. They hung lights on resin hooks that fixed hard to the walls, and all the time, Ky’s body remained untouched, lying in wait for an audience with the city’s highest official.
Beyond the cave and moving further and further from the city, Callen slowed to a jog. A single Outlocked guard came into view on a rocky outcrop and blew a warning call to others. Callen began waving and running towards the young scout. The scout was shocked to see this response from a city intruder. A moment later, more border guards appeared and began waving spears and screaming. Callen held his arms aloft and walked forward until one of the guards recognised him and broke ranks. The others quickly followed and Callen, close to exhaustion, happily became one of them as they headed away in the direction of the camp.
Alexis Prion strode down the well-lit tunnel. He wasn't alone. Three members of his board and a dozen administrative officers were with him. Behind him came a band of reporters with additional lights and cameras to document the moment as it happened. It was an odd sound as they walked. No longer was their progress marked by echoing footsteps, but by commentary from the reporters who were, for once, genuinely reporting live as events unfolded. At the police line, the Chairman and his party were ushered past the tape and into the cave. A line of police officers held back the media.
Alexis looked to Klim with surprise. It was not who he expected to find. His contemporaries began to survey the room, but the presence of the administrators made the Chairman nervous. Klim being there signalled things had not gone to plan.
“I want everyone out, except those on the board,” Alexis said, as the disgruntled administrators were forced to leave and wait outside alongside the officers and media.
“And move everyone back so we can have privacy.”
Klim looked smug when the Chairman returned to him. He seemed pleased by his audience with the most powerful being in the city and his most senior board members.
“Tell me what happened?” the Chairman said. The question brought an even broader smile to Klim’s face. It was a smile born partially of nerves and partially from his great reveal.
“The Outlocked there fell on broken plastic. You can check if you like. He and the other young man, Callen, were wrestling. They fell, quite by accident. Callen escaped through there.” Klim pointed to the tunnel, doing little to hide his delight.
The Chairman walked the room and tried to mask his reaction so as to appear calm. Klim was feeling more and more confident that whatever happened, his dull and monotonous lifestyle within the City would finally be at an end.
“And you are?”
“Klim. Professor of humanities at Northern University. I teach history; philosophies and lifestyle.” Again his smile widened. The Chairman looked at him with controlled rage.
“Philosophies and lifestyle?”
Klim nodded. Both men knew the significance of the job. The Chairman’s mind was ticking over at speed, searching for an acceptable way to spin the situation. He was about to wipe the smug expression from Klim’s face and replace it with a forecast of a thousand rainy days.
“You’re an expert on the Outlocked and their ways. The media are here. Every outlet, every platform represented. You will brief them. That’s why we brought you. You arrived after the fight. The boy was already dead. You can walk the press through and show them the cave. Tell them how the Outlocked live. I doubt there’ll be anyone who feels they’re missing out on much when they see this. You will also tell them how this boy died. How he found his way to the Outlocked living here, right on our doorstep. Tell them the Outlocked occupant of this cave, a savage, killed him, stole what he could and escaped before we could stop him. Let them know the government will increase spending on border defence and spare no expense to hunt down any other Outlocked hiding in caves at our borders, threatening our citizens, threatening our way of life. Outline how we uncovered the threat, and how our security forces dealt with it, but Callen over there, sadly, met with an end that shows the stupidity and danger of his poorly judged hoax. Make it clear he engineered this interaction with this Outlocked to make his hoax seem credible.”
Klim was stunned by the brazen fictional account. He found it comical.
“They’ve all seen Callen. They’ll know that isn’t him.”
Alexis moved to the body. He recognised Ky. He kicked his foot roughly at him until the body dislodged from the plastic dagger holding him in place. Ky slumped to the ground at the foot of the crippled bed. The Chairman wedged his foot under a shoulder and kicked Ky’s body face up. With a closer look at Ky’s face. His Board members also recognised him. They looked to their leader with concern. They could all hear the rabble of hushed media voices outside the cave. The reporters were unable to see or hear any of the events as they unfolded, but they were doing their best to hold their audience’s attention with speculation. They recapped what they did know, with little real concern for the facts or those involved. All were determined the finale to this story should live up to what had gone before. The greatest hoax of the century needed a final act to secure a few more rating points.
Alexis raised his foot and brought his handmade leather heel down hard onto Ky’s face. Klim jumped away in horror. Alexis repeated the action not once, but four and then five times and each time, gouges of flesh gathered and slipped from Ky’s skull, ending up bunched and bloodied with each downward thrust from the Chairman’s hard heel. Alexis moved away and wiped the heel of his shoe on the ground and then kicked some loose gravel over the bloody skid he’d created. He turned menacingly towards Klim.
“The Outlocked deface their victims, believing without a face the soul can never leave the body. They believe it traps a person’s soul, like a prison. It’s a barbaric ritual, but one that awaits any person following in this boy’s footsteps. Make that point as many times as you can.”
“I won’t say any of it,” Klim replied with contempt in his voice.
“I assume you’re expecting a change of lifestyle for your troubles here today?” Alexis inquired, accurately summing up Klim’s hopes.
“How long have you left to serve?”
“Thirteen years,” Klim said.
“You have a simple choice then. Tell them what I’ve said and I’ll reduce your time. Don’t and go back to your life as a professor. I’m sure I can find another expert to say what needs to be said and then I’ll extend your sentence. I’ll make sure you spend it confined to your desk. You’ll spend the rest of your able bodied life working; nothing else to occupy your mind, just days without end, working, year after year, at a task that will eventually be forgotten. And your sentence won’t be
limited to any set number of years; I promise you that, you will die at your desk.”
The two men stood toe to toe in the silence that followed. Klim looked defeated. Now it was Alexis Prion’s turn to look smug. Klim walked like a condemned man to face the waiting media.
With the Chairman long gone, the reporters were eagerly lapping up every word Professor Klim had to offer. He’d been interviewed a dozen times and had given on-camera tours of the devastation within the cave at least four different times. The camera crews were filming every possible angle of the scene with relish. They paid extra attention to the body. The images played out across every viewer within the city and were enough to turn stomachs. The sight was horrendous and even those bitterly opposed to Callen for the lies and false hopes he’d been generating, couldn’t help but sympathise with the terrible fate befalling him.
The students were most affected, and the entire campus stood in silence, gathered to see the live pictures on the main viewer. Jenny, Jay and Simone were devastated by what they saw; their friend attacked, brutalised and killed. The bloody image was one they could never un-see. The sheer bloodiness and grotesque sight of the exposed skull challenged the faith they needed to heed Callen’s warning that nothing was as it seemed.
The broadcaster came back, time and time again to Callen’s horrifically disfigured face and the anchor made sure to draw attention to it while distancing herself and her network from the images.
“Again we warn these images may be troubling; they are certainly not pictures we want to be showing. We advise they may upset some people.”
“It’s a sad end to what turns out to be no more than a young man seeking attention,” a reporter told her from his live location in the cave.
“Do we know what happened to Eve Bestnell?” the studio-bound anchor asked.
“Yes, she’s back with her parents, undergoing psychiatric treatment. The family have asked for privacy at this time, something we are certainly giving them.”
“A very sad end indeed. Just repeating,” the anchor enthused without taking pause, “If you’re coming to us late, Callen Helfner is dead. These images show the violent end to his hoax, images that I’m sure, no one wants to be seeing.”
Some hours later, Callen’s friends sat in silence, like statues, unable to lift themselves from their grief. The news was still showing the gruesome images onscreen. Only a few students had the stomach to stay watching. Jenny’s eyes were bloodshot from tears. Others rested, head in hands, lost in their thoughts.
Professor Klim arrived back on campus escorted by a private police entourage. Jenny sprang to her feet and ran at him, verbally attacking him and demanding answers. Her friends tried to hold her back, fearful of more trouble, but Jenny was too emotional to be stopped.
“You said you’d help him! All you did was get him killed!” she yelled as Klim passed under escort. Klim stopped and stared at Jenny as she abused him.
“You set him up! You’re part of it!” she roared. Klim looked nervous as Jenny’s outburst brought him even more unwanted attention. Klim was aware of his police escort and the growing crowd of students listening to the exchange.
“I got there after it happened,” he defended. “They brought me in as an expert. Didn’t you hear me say that in my interviews?”
The comments infuriated Jenny who was certain Klim was part of a larger conspiracy. Simone and Jay chimed in to support their friend.
“You left with him!” Simone issued tersely.
“Why would I leave with him?” Klim posed.
“Stop lying,” Jay screamed, moving closer. An officer drew his taser and stepped forward, backing Jay up.
“No!” Klim shouted as he waved the officer’s aggression down. “I can deal with this.” Klim looked imploringly to the officer who, after a tense moment, lowered his weapon. Klim turned to the growing crowd gathering around Callen’s closest friends. He looked at Jenny thoughtfully and paused before he spoke.
“You saw him when he left here?” Klim asked as if he was ignorant of the fact.
“You know we did,” Jenny spat distastefully. “You were here with us.”
“No, you’re wrong. Maybe you saw me with another student, another young man in a cap. No, a hood. I was speaking to so many students this morning; it’s hard to keep track of who’s who, they all dress so much alike. I can understand how you thought I was with your friend, but I assure you you’re mistaken. It wasn’t Callen,” Klim said as he stared intently and with purpose at Jenny.
“You think we don’t know our best friend!” Jay screamed into Klim’s face, furious at his denial, but Jenny grabbed Jay’s arm and pulled him back. She was staring at Klim.
“Don’t,” she said abruptly. Jay stopped short and looked to Jenny with confusion.
“It’s all right,” she said, still staring uncertainly at Klim. Klim gave her the faintest, admiring smile; he knew she had it. There was silence for a moment as the two stood looking at each other. Jay was still confused why Jenny suddenly backed away from the fight, but she had his arm and was holding on tight, letting him know something more was going on that he wasn’t seeing. Klim turned to his escort of police guards.
“To my office,” he suggested in a brighter voice, hoping his escorts had garnered nothing from the incident. They hadn’t, and they led Klim away towards his building.
“What’s going on?” Jay asked of Jenny once the police and Klim were well away.
“Come with me,” she said as she watched Klim disappear in the distance. She led her friends back to the main viewer. Jay, Simone and some others followed, trying to work out why Jenny was suddenly so subdued. Jenny arrived as close to the screen as she could manage. She stared at the images of the bloodied victim, still broadcast from every angle on the main viewer.
“Jen?” Simone prompted after standing with her for a while. “Why would you want to be looking at that?” Jenny didn’t move. She just continued to stare at the screen, waiting for an image that showed what she wanted to see.
“He was wearing a cap,” she finally said on seeing the bloody defaced victim. Her voice grew excited. “Wasn’t Callen wearing a cap?”
The group looked at each other, confused by the question.
“Look,” Jenny yelled at them. “He’s in a hood,” she said looking at the screen. “Callen was wearing a cap; it had a logo, a stripe on the front.”
Her friends looked at the images with fresh eyes. The bloodied face lay atop a scrunched up hoodie, lying under the victim’s head. Jenny was right. The clothes were Ky’s, not Callen’s. A murmur broke out as more students saw the truth. Rumours began about the fate and whereabouts of Callen. The believers had renewed hope; the city was still lying. Callen was very much alive.