A Night Under an Empty Sky

    The last seven months had been, by far, the strangest period in the life of Colin Shaw.  He felt this was fortunate, he believed that this meant he would get all the peculiarities within his life out of the way rather than spreading them out over the remaining course of his life where they could pop up at any moment, he preferred to know what was coming.  He also assumed that now the war was coming to a close, the bizarre nature of his daily life would come to an end too, as Colin felt his job to be responsible for all the unusual sights he had seen.
    Colin had cremated most of the casualties of the entire war and this unique vantage point allowed him to see many unforgettable sights.  He had witnessed a woman filming the corpses of British soldiers for a documentary about something she referred to as the ‘Phantom Vigilante’; he was there when the leader of the Para-militia gave her speech just before the attack on Edinburgh began.  He knew that would be an interesting story to tell people after this was all over.
    And now he was seeing this, the so-called ‘Phantom Vigilante’ who had been responsible for many of the corpses Colin burned, he was just sitting at a small table, dressed like a priest and drinking a cup of tea.  This strange sight was made stranger by the fact that Colin was sitting with him, also drinking tea.  The man had taken him into one of the back rooms of the church, bandaged his head and offered him some tea, which Colin had accepted.
    Now they were chatting, just like Colin and Ian had done thousands of times before.
    “I’m so happy you visited me tonight, it’s been a while since I’ve had visitors,” he said.  “So tell me brother, who are you?”
    “I’m Colin Shaw,” Colin informed.
    “No you’re not, that’s just your name.  Now tell me, who are you?”
    “I don’t really know what you mean,” Colin admitted.  “That’s a difficult question to answer.  I suppose I don’t fully know, but I do know who you are though.”
    “Oh?”
    “You’re the one I’ve heard stories about,” Colin said.  “The Phantom Vigilante.”
    “The Phantom Vigilante?” he laughed.  “Where did you here that ridiculous term.”
    “Hannah Jones,” Colin said.
    “Ah, you mean that girl who I’ve seen snooping around?”
    “Yes, that’s right,” Colin said.  “She said she’s trying to do a documentary on you.”
    “She’ll never find me.”
    “I did,” Colin said.
    “That’s because you weren’t looking for me.”
    “She seemed obsessed,” Colin said.  “I don’t think she’s the giving up type.  I worry about her, she walked into a war zone just to make a great documentary so she could become famous, it’s such a long way to go just for your career.  It’s unfortunate, after meeting her, I couldn’t help but think that she was going to end up either getting herself or someone else hurt, probably both.”
    “Ah, ambition, the eighth deadly sin.”
    “Still pretending to be a priest?” Colin said.  “You don’t deny it then?  You’re the one she told me about.  The one she’s looking for?”
    “Yes.”
    “The one who’s killed all those people?” Colin asked.
    “Yes.”
    “Oh,” Colin said.  He wasn’t taken aback by this confession, he just felt numb.  “I have to ask, why do you wear that?”
    “What would you say if I told you that I am a real vicar?” he asked.
    “I’d call you a liar,” Colin said.  “Vicar’s don’t go around murdering people.”
    “I wouldn’t lie to you,” he said.  “What makes you think you’re worthy of my deception?”
    “So you really are a vicar?” Colin asked, his hands firmly cupped around his mug of tea, letting the escaping heat warm his freezing hands.
    “I am Reverend Malcolm Quinn,” he announced.
    “Pleased to meet you,” Colin said, taking a sip.
    “Thank you brother,” Malcolm said.      
    “So why did you kill so many people?” Colin needed to know.
    “They weren’t people,” Malcolm said.  “They were soldiers.”
    “What do you mean?” Colin said.
    “If you take up arms against your brothers, you deserve nothing less,” Malcolm said.
    “What about you?” Colin said.  “You’re doing the same thing.”
    “It’s not like it’s the first time,” Malcolm said.  “I used to be a soldier, Scots Guard.”
    “Really?” Colin said.  “You were a soldier?  Why did you join up if you hate them so much.”
    “I didn’t hate them back then,” Malcolm said.  “This was about fifty years ago.  I didn’t really have a career or even one in mind so I just joined the army, I wanted to see the world, have a bit of an adventure, you know?”
    “Yeah, I do,” Colin said.
    “I went to the Falklands, the Gulf and do you know what I learned during all this travelling and excitement?” Malcolm asked.
    “What?” Colin said.
    “The world is both incredibly complicated and exceeding boring at the same time,” Malcolm said.  “I couldn’t stand it, so I did the logical thing, I came back home and became a vicar.”
    “You’ve had a weird life,” Colin said.
    “That’s exactly what I thought,” Malcolm said.  “I thought that I ‘had’ a weird life, it was over and I was going to live out the rest of my life in something that resembled peace.  Then this war started, I think I may have brought it back with me, war seems to follow me wherever I go.  I can’t escape it, I think this is what I was meant to do, I’m very good at it, so why deny it?”
    “So you’ve been randomly killing both British soldiers and the Para-militia because you’re good at it?” Colin said.
    “You should be thanking me,” Malcolm said.  “I’ve made you quite wealthy.”
    “What do you mean?” Colin said.
    “Don’t think of me as a fool, Colin,” Malcolm said.  “I’m out a lot and I don’t see many civilians but the one that I see the most is you.  I know a lot about you, your job, your life, everything.  I’ve been watching you for some time now and I know your purpose in this war, I kill them and you remove all trace of them from this world.”
    “Someone has to do it,” Colin said.
    “Oh, don’t get me wrong,” Malcolm said.  “I understand why you do it, avarice.  You could leave this city but you choose to stay.  It must be for more than just the money though, I can’t believe anyone could actually just be that greedy.  So why don’t you tell me the true motives behind your actions?”
    “Stop trying to analyse me,” Colin said.  “If you look hard enough, you can find whatever meaning you want in anything.”
    “Very well, I’ll drop it,” Malcolm said.  “But you have to admit though, this war has had its benefits, to both of us.”
    “How has it benefited you?” Colin said.
    “It’s given me the opportunity for a better death,” Malcolm said.  “Before the war began, I feared that I would die naturally.”
    “What’s wrong with that?” Colin said.
    “Would you want to die like that?” Malcolm said.  “Your life slowly seeping away as you deteriorate further and further.  No thank you, that’s really not for me.  I’m a soldier, no matter what I wear or how I try to change, I will always be a soldier.  I was born to be murdered and I don’t mind.  In fact, I prefer it, it’ll probably be faster, more dignified and much more interesting.”
    Colin thought of his mother.  “Only the young die good?” he said, half-smiling.
    “That’s a strange way of putting it,” Malcolm said.
    “Is that what you think you’re doing for all the soldiers you’ve killed?” Colin said.  “Giving them a better death?  I’ve been the one who’s shoved their bodies into my van and then burnt them until there was nothing left but ashes.  Believe me, it’s not that dignified.”
    “No, that’s not what I’m doing for those soldiers but I am doing them a favour,” Malcolm said.  “I came back to Edinburgh, I started preaching peace and brotherhood, I tried to redeem myself for past transgressions in the military.  When this war came, I realised that God wouldn’t allow me to have my redemption but if I kill all the members of this new generation of soldiers before they have a chance to commit murder themselves, then maybe they’ll go to a better place than me.”
    “You realise that sounds crazy?” Colin said.
    “I can’t help if that’s they way you see it,” Malcolm said.  “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”
    “Yes,” Colin said.
“Are you a Christian?” Malcolm asked.
    “Why did you bother asking for permission if you were never going to accept the answer?” Colin wondered.  “But no, I’m not.”
    “Why not?” Malcolm asked.
    “Christians follow Jesus Christ,” Colin said.  “I don’t like the idea of following a man I’ve never met.”
    “I understand,” Malcolm said.  “Are you at least a theist?”
    “I don’t think I am, no,” Colin said.
    “Haven’t you ever thought about it?” Malcolm said.
    “Not a lot,” Colin said.  “I don’t see the point in worrying about it.  It’s just easier not to believe.”
    “I don’t blame you,” Malcolm said.  “No one has any faith anymore.  I used to have a full congregation but soon the numbers began to wane.  Trust me, you can’t blame the evacuation for why this church lies empty, it has been like that since long before the war.  Who knows, maybe they’re right, maybe no one believes in God anymore because people are more intelligent now.  Maybe you are all braver than me, maybe I’m just afraid of an empty sky.  Then again, there will be a greater penalty for you if I’m the one who’s right, what if you’re wrong?”
    “I think there’s nothing wrong with being wrong from time to time,” Colin said.  “It’s almost expected of us, otherwise we wouldn’t be human.  If you’re right, I don’t think he’ll mind too much.  If he does, he must be very shallow to care about what others think of him.”
    “Not that long ago, you’d be executed as a heretic for saying things like that,” Malcolm said.
    “Well, people do strange things because of religion,” Colin said.  “I’m sure they all have rational stories behind the creation of each one, a friend of mine used to have a theory that Hinduism was founded by a cow to stop his friends from being eaten.”
    “Used to have a theory?” Malcolm said.
    “Yeah,” Colin said.  “He joined the Para-militia, he’s dead now.”
    “Needless, isn’t it?” Malcolm said.  “Did you have to burn his body as well?”
    Colin thought about Dominic, waiting to be collected, he would be waiting a long time because Colin decided before he even entered the church that he was done, he would do no more.
    “There was no purpose in this war,” Malcolm said.  “Or any war for that matter.  It needs to be stopped and that is all I’m trying to do.”
    “How are you stopping it?” Colin asked.
    “There can be no war without soldiers,” Malcolm said.
    “Does that really make sense to you?” Colin said.  “You’re not hindering the war, you’re helping it.  All you’re doing is causing more death.”
    “Are you judging my actions?” Malcolm said.
    “Psychopomps don’t judge, they just provide safe passage,” Colin said half to himself.
    “What?” Malcolm asked.
    “Nothing,” Colin said quickly.
    “Just don’t judge me,” Malcolm said.  “If the world wasn’t like this, I wouldn’t have become what I am.”
    “Say it any way you want, you’re still a murderer,” Colin said.
    “Oh come on, Colin,” Malcolm said.  “Do you know how many people there are in the world?  The void that is left from all the people I’ve killed won’t even be noticed in the long-term.  If you gathered all the people of the world and lined them all up, neat and tidy.  Then, if you tried to manually count them all by hand, even if you took regular breaks to eat and drink, you’d still die of old age before you even manage to count a fraction of the global population.”
    “What’s your point?” Colin asked.
    “My point is that there are plenty more humans in the world,” Malcolm said.  “That’s the one resource we’ll never run out of.”
    “So when are you going to stop attacking these soldiers?” Colin said.
    “You’ve been out there, you’ve seen the mess,” Malcolm said.  “I doubt I’ll ever be finished.”
    “You do know that the Para-militia base was assaulted last night?” Colin said.  “The war is practically over.”
    “‘Practically’ being the key word here,” Malcolm said.  “Believe me; the aftermath will continue to dwindle on for a while.  I’ll still have work to do.”
    “You can’t keep doing what you’re doing and not get caught,” Colin said.
    “Oh, I’m expecting it,” Malcolm said.  “After spending so much time within these shattered ruins, I’m beginning to envy the residents of Hell.  There’s no need to worry, I should be among them soon.”
    Colin took a quick glance around this room; it was some sort of cramped back room of the church that obviously used to fulfil some purpose a long time ago but now it’s only function was for half-crazed former priests to entertain random guests.
    “Is this your first time in a church?” Malcolm asked.
    “No,” Colin said.  “My parents used to take me occasionally when I was a child.”
    “Were your parents religious?” Malcolm said.
    “Not really,” Colin said.  “I think they just went out of habit because their parents used to take them.”
    “And the habit didn’t pass on to you?” Malcolm said.
    “Not really,” Colin said.  “I don’t think you should go unless you actually believe in what’s being said, it seems dishonest if you don’t.  Even if I did, where would I go?  I can’t think of a single local church that is still active.”
    “So you never believed?” Malcolm said.  “Not even when you were a child?”
    “It didn’t make sense to me as a child,” Colin said.  “They said that you have to follow all these rules, otherwise you go to Hell and I just didn’t understand that.  Those rules couldn’t have applied to all the people who lived before Jesus, like cavemen, because they didn’t know about these rules so they can’t be punished for it.  But then you couldn’t have different rules for people who lived at different times, that just wouldn’t be fair.  So then the whole system falls apart.  It didn’t seem to make any sense to me at all, so I just ignored it.  Now, I don’t really like any organised religion at all.  It seems to be full of people trying to do good things just because they believe they’ll eventually be rewarded.  I don’t think that’s an appropriate reason to be a good human being.  I don’t know what the real reason should be, maybe there are several options, but I know that a place in heaven isn’t one of them.”
    “What’s with the briefcase?” Malcolm asked suddenly.
    Colin’s eyes immediately rushed to the silver briefcase resting against his chair, which he had almost forgot about.
    “Oh,” Colin said.  “It’s just full of work documents.”
    “Work documents?” Malcolm said.
    “Yeah,” Colin said.  “It’s just official Army documents allowing me to cremate dead soldiers and stuff like that.”
    “It’s pretty big,” Malcolm said.  “Documents, eh?”
    “That’s right,” Colin said.
    “It’s quite dirty,” Malcolm said.
    “Yep,” Colin said.  “I was in a car crash, that’s also how I got this.”  He gestured to the bandage on his forehead.
    “How’d you get into a car crash?” Malcolm asked.  “There are hardly any cars on the road anymore.  None, in fact.”
    “Well, you know, wet roads,” Colin said.
    “Right,” Malcolm said.  “You remembered to take the briefcase with you when you got into this car crash?”
    “It’s got important papers in it,” Colin said.  “The crash wasn’t that bad, it just damaged my engine enough to make it stop working.  That’s why I came into this church, actually.  I was just looking for some shelter.”
    “Sanctuary?” Malcolm said.
    “Yeah,” Colin laughed.  “Something like that.”
    “Do you think of yourself as a good man, Colin?” Malcolm asked.
    “I don’t know,” Colin said.  “I don’t really think like that, aren’t people more complicated than good and bad?”
    “Not really,” Malcolm said.  “By themselves, people are the most complicated things on the planet but when you group them together in societies, they begin to fit into certain simple roles.  A person can’t be inherently good or evil all the time because humans are fickle, one minute they can decide to be charitable, another time, petty.  So, individually, people are made up of dozens of good and evil parts but when they come together, these parts become literally personified.  This means that a society becomes one giant organism with each of the necessary good and evil parts being made up of the real people within the society.  So which role are you playing?”
    “I’m not trying to play a role,” Colin said.
    “You’re wrong,” Malcolm said.  “Everyone tries; either to be a hero or a villain.  Neither is better or worse, both roles are required in this world and everybody makes an active choice whether to make an attempt at being one or the other.”
    “I don’t want to think in those terms,” Colin said.
    “You can’t choose that,” Malcolm said.  “You can only choose to be a hero or a villain.  Neither is the wrong choice, you’re only wrong when you deny which of these two you are.  Now, tell me, I need to know, what kind of man are you?”
    “I’m the kind of man who doesn’t like labels,” Colin said.
    Malcolm looked at him for a few seconds and then, without warning, he suddenly started laughing.
    “Malcolm?” Colin said.
    “Yes, Colin?” Malcolm said.  “What is it?”
    “Which of the two are you trying to be?” Colin asked.
    “Have you ever heard people use the phrase, ‘I was just born at the wrong time’?” Malcolm said, tilting his head back to gaze up at the ceiling as he ignored Colin.  “Many people feel this way; they think that they would prefer life at another point in history, a simpler time, a happier time.”
    “Do you feel that way?” Colin asked.  “Do you think you were born too late in history?”
    “No,” Malcolm said.  “There was never a happier time, it’s all in people’s minds, romanticising the past.  Nothing but progress has been made as time has plodded on.  It’s mostly people who either fear or hate technology say that they would’ve preferred to live in a different time.  I’m the opposite of those people, I love technology, and I think it has so much potential for the future.  I don’t think I was born too late, I think I was born too early.  I don’t like the world the way it is, or how it ever was in the past.  Look at the Internet, I was already an adult when it was created, I remember thinking what an influential force it could become but its power is squandered, the vast majority of its content is pure waste.  It has become an insult to the information age.  I still believe in potential though, I believe that these problems can be corrected over time, I only wish I could live in that time, rather than this one.  This time is full of sinful people and sinful actions, including the both of us too.  I feel out of place, I wish I could live in the future; I can’t be positive that I’d prefer it but I would be willing to take the chance.  However, since I cannot be a part of the future, I’ll just do my best to ensure that it comes as soon as possible.  I wonder what it will be like; I wonder if it will be better than this time, I wonder if I would like it there.”
    “Killing all the soldiers you come across?” Colin said.  “That’s aiding progress?”
    “Getting rid of as many bad people as I can,” Malcolm said.  “Can you think of a better way to spend a life?”
    “They’re not all bad,” Colin said.  “Some soldiers join up to protect people.”
    “Those ideals leave your mind quickly, believe me,” Malcolm said.  “Then, all you’re left with is your actions, your terrible actions and your memories of them.  That may cover some of the British soldiers, but what about the Para-militia, they’re not protecting anybody.”
    “My brother-in-law joined the Para-militia,” Colin said.  “He wasn’t bad, just misguided.”
    “Did you try to reason with him?” Malcolm said.  “Try to make him stop what he was doing.”
    “Yes,” Colin said.
    “Did it do any good?” Malcolm said.
    “No,” Colin said.  “I don’t think he understood.”
    “So he was lost,” Malcolm said.  “You couldn’t recover him, his role changed and he began to hurt people.  Don’t you think he was better off being stopped?  As soon as they change, they become bad people.  There’s only so much space in the world, maybe it’s time we started being more selective.”
    Colin didn’t say anything.
    “Don’t feel sorry for them,” Malcolm said.  “They’re soldiers.  Their lives are devoted to preparing to kill people they know nothing about.  The world would be a much better place without any of them, as I think about it, I can only think of one type of person who is worse than those who instigate wars all over the world.  That’s a person who would profit from such a tragedy.”
    Colin was draining the last residual particles of tea from his cup when he heard Malcolm say this.  He looked at him in order to judge whether he was joking or not, after all, he was a little unstable.  The first thing out of the ordinary that Colin noticed was a patch of tattered cloth lying on the floor.  His eyes worked his way up to see Malcolm with a stern expression on his face and a small kitchen knife down by his side.
    Before Colin could figure out what was happening, Malcolm had already thrown the table aside and lunged at him, swinging his knife.  The blade narrowly missed Colin’s chest as he had the foresight, or the luck, of falling backwards from his chair and landed against the wall behind him as his teacup crashed to the ground and shattered.
    As Colin fell, he hit the back of his head on the wall and just sat there, crumpled up against the wallpaper as best as he could to keep as far away from Malcolm as possible, who was presently standing over him menacingly.
    It was at this point when Colin realised how large Malcolm was, in both height and muscularity.  His dark vicar’s clothes and thick long coat not hiding the bulk of his upper body very well.
    “What are you doing?” Colin screamed.  “Have you lost your mind?”
    “Of course not,” Malcolm said, smiling creepily.  “When you slip off the side of sanity, you don’t lose your mind, it just…changes.  And insanity is an infinite pit, there is no limit to how far one can fall.”
    “Why are you trying to kill me?” Colin demanded.  “You only attack soldiers.”
    “That’s not true,” Malcolm said calmly.  “I only attack people who will give me a challenge, there’s no point in killing someone who won’t be entertaining.  That’s why I left Hannah Jones alone.  You were wounded when you came here; I needed to make sure you were healthy so I know the fight will be fair.  Now I have, let’s go, I hope you’ll give me a good fight.”
    Colin knew there was no way he could kill Malcolm, as he came towards him, knife in hand, Colin thought back to the time when those two Para-militia had tried to kill him in that alley.  He lashed out with his leg, it hit the seat of his former chair lying not too far from him and the force of his kick propelled it directly at Malcolm’s feet, the wooden chair leg connected roughly with Malcolm’s shin and he grunted in pain.  Colin wasted no time in taking advantage of this opportunity, rising to his feet he brought the large silver briefcase up from the floor and rammed it as hard as he could manage into Malcolm’s jaw.
    Malcolm Quinn fell back and collided with his own chair, tripping him up and he landed flat on his back.  Colin didn’t bother checking to see if he was all right, he just opened the door and ran out into the main body of the church.
    The lightning had stopped so the church was virtually pitch black; he knew he was by the front of the church so he just felt around until he reached the first row of pews.  From there, he made his way to the central aisle, he shot a quick look behind him but if Malcolm was there, Colin couldn’t see him.
    Colin stopped edging along and ran flat out, he couldn’t see where he was going, he just aimed as straight as he could and prayed he didn’t veer off course and collide with the dense wooden seats.  The cold sweat was rinsed off him as he passed underneath the leaky part of the roof, the lightning may have stopped but the rain had intensified during the time he spent inside the church, if that was even possible.
    The strip of light coming from underneath the main doors could be seen now, Colin was almost free.  His fast began to slam down on the floor harder as he picked up the pace.
    Arriving at the very back of the church, Colin leant on the same pew he had before and inhaled deeply, he was out of breath from fear.  Colin hadn’t ran that far but he could feel a stitch grab hold of the lower part of his lung.
    Colin forced himself on, he ran at the door and wrenched it open, thanking the God that this church had been built to worship that the door wasn’t locked.
    He couldn’t remember closing this door; he surmised that the wind had probably been responsible for its closure.  There wasn’t a lot of light outside, but it made him squint nonetheless.  Colin was about to leave when a thought crossed his mind, he was so curious why Malcolm hadn’t caught him by now.
    Colin looked back into the darkness for a few seconds and then, upon realising the idiocy of his actions, bolted out the front door and began running again.
    As Colin ran back out into the rain, he continued down the churchyard and climbed over the old fence, he didn’t want to waste time and energy on actually opening the thing.  He was now alone in the middle of the road, steadily returning to his soaked state, he did his best to run in the direction he believed his home to be in.
    Malcolm Quinn had once been a professional soldier and hadn’t lost much of his knowledge; he had taken on entire squads of Para-militia and British soldiers and had come out victorious.  None of this mattered though; it didn’t guarantee that Colin would be defeated.  It is always imperative for everyone to keep in mind the indiscriminate factor of luck.