Chapter 5

I wrote this during a very poor attempt to write a novel in a month. Needless to say I didn't even come close to succeeding, but here is a very quickly written draft of the the next chapter:


Read from the start here: Chapter One


In a memory from not too long ago, Dane recalled having sat down with a man named Wilhelm Lawrence, one of the Nomag people with whom he lived. It was required that each inhabitant of the Den had a job assigned to them, and his was the architect. Anything that required fixing, altering or building was done by Lawrence, and he was as knowledgeable as he was old.


Now approaching seventy, Lawrence had spent a life burying himself in books and attempting several times in his earlier days to make a business as a tradesman. Once, he erected a workshop in his garden and invited all the local population to come and admire his work, but they were none too impressed; none of his work had any magical enhancements and were deemed to be inferior as a result. They weren’t impressed by the intricate level of detail or his lavish workmanship. If it didn’t do anything special, it was just another lump of material. After trying his hand at everything from engineering to joinery to metalwork and smithing, Lawrence eventually accepted he had been wasting his life. It was during that period of self-deprecation that he was approached by the mysterious figure known as Linden, who offered him a place to stay and a place where his skills would not only be welcome, but appreciated too. Lawrence accepted, and became one of the earliest members of the group.


Many years later, Dane strode into the main hall of the Den and spied Lawrence sitting at the table by himself, drinking a mug of tea and reading a newspaper.
“Hello old friend.” Dane quipped.


“Enough of that, you’re not so young yourself y’know!” Lawrence retorted, followed by a wicked grin. Dane smiled too. “What’s up with you? You look like you just killed somebody!”


“Please, this is serious, I want to discuss an important matter with you. May we talk in my office?”


Lawrence’s grin faded away, and he raised an eyebrow.


“Yes, sure.”


Lawrence rose from his flimsy wooden seat and followed Dane into his office, a walled off section off the farther side of the main hall. Dane shut the door and invited his guest to sit on the only comfortable chair in the whole of the Den. Dane took a seat behind his desk, which was covered in photos of past targets and files full of intel on them. Lawrence immediately broke the silence.


“Let’s cut the small talk, tell me what you need.”


“I need you to fix something.” Dane said without missing a beat.


“That’s why I’m still around son.” Lawrence seemed to relax a little, and he sat further back in the chair. “Tell me what it is that needs fixin’.”


“It’s the gates. There’s a design flaw.”


At once, Lawrence’s whole body tensed. Dane could tell he had offended him with the comment. Lawrence said nothing for a few moments, simply looking at Dane with a contempt filled glare.


“Those gates you’re talking about, the ones I built from scratch, haven’t seen a single unauthorised entry in the few decades I’ve been around this place. I checked them myself, there is nothing wrong with them, I can guarantee that. Dane, you’ve been a great leader in recent weeks, and I consider you a trusted pal of mine, but you’re wrong about the gates. Nobody is getting through them from the outside.”


“That’s the problem.”


“What?” He asked, confused. “Are you suggesting that letting people in from the outside is somehow... a problem?”


Dane remained silent.


“Look, if somebody found one of those things, there’s no way they’re getting in without the aid of heavy machinery. All the magical energy in the world isn’t gonna help you break through one of those, they’re too complex. That’s what makes them perfect.”


“I want you to imagine a scenario.” Dane’s tone was calm, his voice, deep. “One of our group is outside, and somehow the door behind them is closed without their prior knowledge. How do they get back in?”


Lawrence pondered the imaginary situation over for a few seconds.


“They wait for somebody else to come out, but that’s beside the point. Why would the door be closed? Anybody stupid enough to shut it behind them deserves to be kept out if ya ask me!”


“And what if they weren’t the one who shut it?”


“Sabotage?” Lawrence responded in surprise. “Look, I know what this is all about now. I know you and Cam have your differences but do you really think he-“


“I do.” The sheer authority in his voice had such an effect, Dane didn’t even have to raise it. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t put past that man. Besides, your job is to design, and I’m therefore giving you your instructions. I want to see a prototype as soon as possible. You may go.”


The old man in the chair got up slowly. Once he was standing, he took a long look at Dane. “You can be a real pain sometimes, y’know?”


At this, both men seemed to ease up and the tension dissipated as Lawrence smirked and Dane walked up to him and shook his hand.


“I know.”


*******


Back in the present, Dane had already ripped off the panel that hid the guts of the door mechanics. How he was thankful for Lawrence right at this moment. The underneath was an automated cacophony of gears, bolts and a black oily mess, and yet most of this didn’t really function at all. It was a decoy for any would be intruders, giving the Den dwellers more time to prepare for invaders. Dane ignored this and pushed his arm into the thick of it, scrabbling around for a tiny release switch in the corner of the newly revealed compartment. Pushing past all the gears, he scratched his arm something fierce, even drawing some blood, but if it was easy for him then it would be easy for an intruder. He began to sweat a little, knowing that any second he could get caught.


Not a moment too soon, Dane felt his fingers clasp the very tip of the plastic clip that he needed to pull. Yanking it towards him forcefully, he heard the door being opened, something he felt was the greatest possible noise he could ever hear. The clank of the bolt was pulled back, Dane then rigorously freed his worse for wear limb and used the other to grab at the door. Scooping up the case once more, he used all of his strength to heave the metal hatch towards him and only seconds later he had revealed the entrance to the tunnel.


He jumped inside and slammed down the ‘close’ button with an enormous sigh of relief. Dane rarely let himself be overwhelmed with emotion but this time he invited the colossal sense of satisfaction and safety to wash over him, smothering him. The reprieve lasted all of five seconds before he was once again overcome with the thoughts he had so carefully set aside in order to think his way out of danger.


Dane’s own flesh and blood. During his wayward youth, his younger self had experienced the risky pleasure of sex, and as a result he had gotten a casual fling pregnant. It wasn’t until the child was born that he discovered this however. During a surface trip to collect food and supplies, he had spotted a familiar woman with a young child close by, and soon concluded correctly that it was his. He was a Nomag by this time, and had no choice but to bow out of their lives for good. No way to contact them, no way to support them with the little money they brought in, just a complete dead end.


It seemed to Dane now that Cam’s evil saw no limits. If he was prepared to put his own relation on the line to pursue a petty revenge, then all bets were off. Dane was about ready to tear him to pieces right now, and if it wasn’t for one single piece of information, that is exactly what he would be doing right now. As Dane raced down the darkened tunnels, his mind was running on only one thought. How he had taken a huge gamble only a few minutes earlier, how he had been so sure he could trust his instincts, how he knew Cam just a little too well to ignore everything he said. How he had done the right thing in purposely missing his target. How his daughter was still alive.


Next Chapter: CHAPTER SIX