Shepard
Something flew up, almost slowly. It turned in the air and then got stuck in the chest of the degenerate, which was used as a shield by Eater. An axe. The victim shouted loudly and long lastingly. Jan behind me was moving. He must have heard it too. I kept looking down from the window into the street. The man was still hanging in the headlock, which Eater held up with iron strength. His legs broke, and for a second, Eater got out of balance. Then he had grasped himself again and held his living shield seemingly effortlessly in place. The axe had not penetrated deeply, it seemed, because while the two had their balance problems, it had fallen onto the wet road. However, I only perceived this fact marginally. What took most of my attention was something else. First there were two. Four, then. Then six and then eight degenerates. They didn’t look familiar. They encircled Eater and the injured drunkard. Some had their spears pointed at them, others were equipped with knives, clubs and other weapons. I saw Eater’s ripped open pig’s eyes rushing back and forth in their caves as he in vain tried to keep an eye on them all at once. The pig’s eyes flashed. His shield had stopped screaming and had regained his composure. Regarding the new situation, the headlock might even have seemed comforting to him. His face was pain distorted, but the wound didn’t seem too bad. Then they came slowly. First three with spears. Five more behind them. Eater’s gaze shot here and there. He was still trying to keep an eye on them all at the same time, but even if he succeeded, he couldn’t prevent him from being surrounded in no time. Behind me Jan stirred again. He moaned and muttered something in his unconsciousness. It sounded like, “No, don’t!” But I didn’t understand it that well, because the scene below me captivated me almost completely. No doubt it were other degenerates who threatened the giant and his drunken victim. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure, but I thought I realized they weren’t Benito’s people. There wasn’t any bone jewelry on them. No barbaric chains of human remains. Yet they seemed no less threatening than the Bone Degs. There was tension on some of the faces. On others, the joyful anticipation of the impending bloodshed. Bloodshed was imminent, no doubt about that. Eater seemed to be aware of this as well. Where first surprise, then fear and disbelief had been written in his face, it was now a mixture of stubbornness, fatalism and anger. He held his human shield closer as the circle of spears pointed at him tightened around him. And not only that. More and more Degs were added to the scenery. In a few seconds, the number of degenerates had risen to about eighteen. The newcomers didn’t bother to direct their weapons at Eater as well, but stayed in the second row with a much more relaxed posture. I noticed that some of them turned their heads backwards, in the direction they had come from. They seemed to be expecting an order. However, this did not happen, because for quite a while nothing at all happened. Again Jan moved behind me on the couch and murmured. Eater’s mouth also moved, and the veins and tendons on his neck strongly stood out. I could also hear that he started yelling at the foreign degenerates. Through the window pane, however, only dull and ugly sounds penetrated my ears. Nothing I could understand. Too far away. Too muffled. The foreign degenerates almost looked as if they had solidified into statues. I don’t know if seconds or minutes had passed until Eater had stopped shouting. After a while, anyway, his mouth closed. It was a strange still picture that I observed from almost a bird’s eye view. Although nothing happened, they were so concentrated on each other that I was not worried about being discovered. Rather, I even toyed with the idea of opening the window a crack wide so that I could hear what was being said. Jan didn’t babble to himself anymore, but his breathing was heavy and ruffling. The asthmatic whistling disturbed my concentration and at that moment caused an irrational unwillingness in me. If he’d been conscious, I’d have hit him to stop making that noise. But it wouldn’t do any good, and I knew it. I reluctantly detached my gaze from what was happening on the street and looked over at him. He had sunk further into himself, if that was even possible. His eyes were closed, but the lid of the left one fluttered from time to time in gossamer spasms. He was pale, and an unhealthy sweat film covered his face. He doesn’t have much of a chance, I thought. And then I admitted to myself that I’d almost be glad if he died. One less burden. There was no question that I myself would no longer be among the living if it had not been for him. Still. No. I wouldn’t leave him here. Debt is debt, even if I’d like to be rid of it. When I looked out the window again, the situation had changed. The circle that the foreign degenerates had closed around the Eater and the drunk had opened on one side. The degenerates, who had changed their position, now formed a kind of gait and looked backwards. They stood in a trellis, if you want to call it that. It was clear that something was about to happen. And so it was. A single man walked through the alleyway towards Eater. Eater’s face was in the shade, but I could still see that he was shouting something at the newcomer and gesticulating with his arm, which he had not wrapped around the neck of his almost pitiful shield. Whatever he had said - it seemed to have no effect on the new one. He unimpressed walked further towards Eater and then stopped, so that the circle around the cannibal was closed again. Behind him came those who had stood trellis. The whole scene left no doubt that the newcomer was the leader or at least a captain of this foreign degenerate troop. Now the man made a harsh gesture, which apparently should cut off Eater´s words. It didn’t work. Only when the man repeated the gesture did Eater stop shouting. Then it seemed to be the stranger who was talking. For a surprisingly long time Eater gave no answer. He just listened, and then, all of a sudden, all power had disappeared from him. All body tension was gone, and he let go of the drunk. This fell on his knees and hands and struggled for air. Significantly, he didn’t try to get away from Eater. Rather, he looked as if he wanted to cling to his mighty legs to find protection there. But he was just as badly advised as if he had tried to break the circle formed by the new degenerates around the two men by force. All dangerousness, everything in this creature that could have created fear in the other person, had disappeared. Eater let his shoulders hang and he had lowered his head. The drunken man’s glances shot anxiously back and forth between him and the new. The new man continued to speak, and again Eater did nothing but listen. Then I couldn’t believe my eyes. Eater went to his knees, kneeled down as if he wanted to receive a knightly accolade, no, not quite, it had a slightly different character. There was much more humility in the way he did it than in someone who should be honored. It looked more as if he had surrendered completely, as if he had accepted a judgment, and if not a judgment, then the fact that one would soon be spoken about him. What else could he have done? The number of foreign degenerates had grown to over thirty since this strange spectacle had begun. His gigantic stature and physical strength would not help him against such a supremacy. The women and men who had formed the circle around him also changed their postures. Almost at the same time they seemed to relax. Not completely, but there was a clearly noticeable movement throughout the large group. Spears, bows and other weapons, which had been held ready and aimed at Eater all the time, were grasped more loosely all at once, and the sharp points and blades sank somewhat. The drunken Deg tried as hard as he could to adopt the same posture as Eater. The leader of the new degenerate group spoke again, as I could see from his gestures. While Eater listened, the drunk was almost hanging on the man’s lips. It was characteristic that also all other Degs seemed to listen like spellbound. With such a large group there should have been some unrest at least at the edges, where one could not follow the events very exactly anyway. Whispers, looks that were exchanged, or there would have been someone who would have focused his attention on something else in his immediate environment. It wasn’t like that down here. The man who spoke really had to be a big shot. I noticed that I myself had started to step from one foot to the other. Unlike the listeners below me, I lacked the content and acoustic information. I wondered what that man was saying. Did he discuss a problem with them? Did he lay claim to whatever? Did he hold court? Had he alre
ady pronounced a verdict? I had no idea. The image that offered itself to me somehow had the character of all these possibilities. Jan’s asthmatic rattle had finally given way to deeper and calmer breaths. It seemed as if his body had finally coped with fear and adrenaline to such an extent that it could allow a recovery phase. Then something happened with the degenerates, even if it wasn’t much. Basically, it was just a little something. Eater lifted his head and some of his strength seemed to return to his body. Had he been able to get any good news for himself out of the new guy’s speech? Had he just been told that he could stay alive? The new man still spoke, and an end to his monologue did not seem in sight. Eater’s gaze wandered slowly from here to there, from left to right and from top to bottom. A little more and he’d have sniffed like a dog. Something was in the air, and I stopped my stepping from one foot to the other. Something was in the air, and from the other degenerates only one woman at the edge seemed to notice it as well. She also turned her head a bit and then whirled around one hundred and eighty degrees. But it was too late for her. Just as she was about to open her mouth to give a warning cry, an arrow hit her right in the chest. Two Degs, standing right next to her and about to support the tumbling body they had now noticed, were next. Then chaos broke out. Even more arrows flew in from all directions and most found a target. The leader of the new ones broke off his monologue, turned around his own axis and then yelled something that I even could understand through the closed disc. “Benito!” This raging exclamation confirmed to me what I had already suspected. Benito’s troop had deserted, he had told us. It looked as if these new degenerates were here to bring them to their insane justice. It triggered an absurd nostalgic feeling in me to watch the battle through a closed window. The distance to what was happening had something television-like about it, the touch of a memory, alienated remnants of almost overwritten emotions of relaxation and comfort. And yet at the same time I was only too aware that what was happening down there would have a direct effect on my life - no, on the survival of Jan and me. The barrier to this dreadful reality was there, but it was as thin as it could possibly be. When Eater had noticed that his leader had ordered the attack on the new degenerates, he jumped up. Only two of those who surrounded him at first responded to him. The rest had either been injured or killed in the hail of arrows of the bone-degenerates, or suddenly found themselves at the mercy of the screaming madness of battle. Eater grabbed one of the spears pointed at him at the tip and tore at it. The man at the other end of the gun didn’t have much to oppose him. The second degenerate, who had become aware of Eater, pushed the tip of the spear into the left upper arm of the cannibal giant. Eater roared. Then he had torn off the spear and fended off a second attack with the shaft. The background noise had become louder. Pain and death and anger were the melodies that were played. I couldn’t help but tilt the window. Nobody would notice it in this bloody chaos. Something about the lighting conditions and shadows in the room changed, just a tiny bit, but it was enough to make me turn around anyway. Jan had opened his eyes again and sat up. He wasn’t quite back yet, looking around confused. I couldn’t possibly explain to him what was going on down there. As if by remote control, my attention was again drawn to the horrible events. I could see Benito and Silvia. They fought side by side, surrounded by their Bone Degs. I saw them beating and stabbing opponents, saw Benito smash a skull with the equivalent of a medieval mace. I saw Silvia drive a spear through the abdomen of one of the new degenerates. Part of me wondered. I didn’t think they’d fight on their own. How long has this madness lasted now? One minute? Maybe just a half? The screaming in any case did not want to take an end yet. The two who had taken on Eater were on the ground. One motionless, the other walling and pressed one hand onto a stab wound in his leg. The initial superiority of the new degenerates had diminished, and the numerical ratio was now balanced. The leader of the new ones was pushed to the edge of the action. I couldn’t find any injuries on him, even if his clothes were stained with blood. Unlike Benito, Silvia and their Bone Degs, he didn’t fight like a berserk. The bloodlust that had befallen the others apparently left him untouched. You could clearly see the tension and adrenaline on his face, but he seemed like someone who had a tricky and unpleasant task to accomplish, not like a bloodthirsty lunatic. Now he seemed to be trying to get to Benito. This one was in the middle of the turmoil. His forearms were covered by several superficial cuts, which didn’t seem to hinder him. With an unbroken will to fight, he cut down enemy after enemy. His small body size did not seem to be a handicap for him. The leader of the new degenerates roared something. The effect wasn’t very big. Only two of his people had heard the command or were able to respond to it. But that was enough. Cool and methodical, they protected the flanks of their captain as he advanced on to Benito. I noticed something. Some of the new degenerates, if I could tell them apart from the Bone Degs at all, didn’t seem interested in killing their opponents. In situations where Benito, Silvia and their people finished off an inferior enemy with blind rage, it seemed, the new ones acted much more calculated. Either they didn’t want to waste their strength on enemies that had already been rendered harmless, or it was a kind of farsightedness that often left them only hurting instead of killing. Then, just at the moment when the leader of the newcomers with his two bodyguards reached Benito and had knocked Silvia down from behind on the way there, the picture changed completely. All of a sudden, there were more degenerates. They wore no bone jewelry and therefore had to belong to the new ones. They brought a bizarre kind of order to the raging chaos beneath me. Where previously dogged duels and wild and fierce skirmishes had dominated the scenery, they acted like an ordered, purposeful force. In a kind of phalanx formation they approached from two sides. They did not go in step, but a kind of cool organization emanated from them that seemed strangely out of place in this battle. Some of them even wore primitively assembled shields. Bone degenerates were quickly and passionlessly rendered harmless and left behind. Their own people were incorporated into the phalanx. It all went down surprisingly fast now. This bizarre copy of a Roman legion - somehow it was like watching a snow shovel at work. Even Eater, bleeding from several wounds, went down faster than I had thought possible. Like all the others who had been victims of the reinforcements that suddenly appeared before them, he remained behind them on the street. I couldn’t see if he was still alive, but ... “What’s the matter? Are they coming? Did they find us?” It was Jan’s weak voice that ripped me out of my observations for a fraction of a second. Unwillingness. I didn’t want to look away. This bloody spectacle was terribly fascinating. I just shook my head and made a soothing gesture with my hand without turning to him. Damn it, how many is that? This went through my mind when, behind the two new battle lines, even more degenerates continued to advance into the small part of the street I could see from up here. Since the train station in Frankfurt I hadn’t seen so many people in one pile. Frankfurt. I remembered the forecourt. I remembered the battle. There had been no phalanx then. Perhaps because the ‘army’ that had brought down the station had been consisting from many groups. Maybe because the degenerates had learned since then. I don’t know, I don’t know. Either way - at the latest with the arrival of the second reinforcement wave it was clear how the battle between the bone-degenerates and the others would end. It only took a few seconds until Benito and the last rest of his people were encircled. The final victory of the new degenerates was surprisingly unspectacular. The near silence that now reigned was ghostly. About half of those lying on the floor - were they thirty? Forty? - was still moving. Their painfilled moaning was the only thing you could hear. There were no more screams. It’s a strange feeling when something’s suddenly missing. Benito, heated by the fights he had fought, had trouble keeping his temper in check. But even he realized that he had lost. And he also understood that he would only live on if he acknowledged and admitted the defeat. That’s exactly what he did. When the last dozen or so of his people who could still stand on their
feet saw that their leader had surrendered, they followed his example. Only on three of the faces did I see something like regret or aversion. The others displayed a facial expression that consisted of a mixture of relief and fear of what was to come. It was fast now. The bone-degenerates and their leader were disarmed. Then they were taken into the middle by about twenty of the new ones and led away. The remaining winners and their leader remained. The leader said something, pointed here and there. His two bodyguards and three others nodded now and then. When he had finished giving instructions, he turned around and left the battlefield in the direction Benito and the other Bone Degs had been led without much fuss. Some of his people - most of them - followed him. Only five were left behind. They walked off the battlefield. The winners took care of their own people first. Some of them they helped back on their feet. For others, they seemed to judge the severity of the injuries. Those they considered viable were brought to the edge of the area. Either pulled, carried or supported. The others ... some screamed. Some just took it. It struck me that they simply left some of the wounded with whom they had spoken lying on the ground. Maybe they were allowed to choose. When the new angels of death had finished their work, they devoted themselves to the injured of the bone-degenerates. They were not offered a choice. They all screamed. I noticed that Jan had stepped behind me. He was trying to see something, too. And when, despite his weakness and the fact that he could only stand with difficulty, he finally succeeded and pushed himself next to me, his eyes widened with surprise and horror. “What... what happened here? That’s... that’s... those aren’t the same, are they?” “No, they’re not. So not the ones who robbed your town. But they still belong together. Sort of. They ...” “I don’t understand. What is all this...?” With his four-fingered hand he made a vague gesture towards the graveyard below us. The movement caused him pain, I could see that. It was clear to me that he meant not only the slaughter that had just taken place, but also what had happened to him and his people. I was about to answer him, when I saw how the angels of death gathered around Eater. The cannibal had halfway sat up and tried to get up despite instructions to do the contrary. As it looked, they did not consider him a danger, for they did not prevent him from doing so. But nobody helped him either. I could see him mumbling something quietly. I couldn’t tell if anyone answered to him. He swayed from left to right and back again, waving his arms so he wouldn’t lose his balance. His wounds seemed to be superficial, with the exception of two. One on the left thigh, and one on the right side of his mighty chest. It gave him trouble to stand. One of the angels of death seemed to notice that too. He bent down and picked up a spear from the ground, broke in two pieces in the middle. He put it in Eater´s hand hand, sure so he could use it as a crutch. Then they took him away. He had been the last one the angels of death had visited. Why they had spared him, but killed the other wounded of Benito’s pack, I do not know. Maybe they knew him. Maybe he was somehow more important than I thought he was at first. Maybe he had just successfully begged for his life. I don’t know, no idea. I now leaned heavily on the windowsill, taking care not to strain the burned areas on my hands. Somehow I had lost the last of my strength, although I had done nothing but stand here. Down there were now only the dead, and among them breathed the consecrated ones, who had decided against the oh-so- generous offer of the angels of death. Their weak movements, the wretched raising and lowering of their thoraxes, the reflex-like twitching of their eyelids, their arms and legs which were occasionally set in motion just as spastically, without these movements having any meaning at all - a terrible, ghostly picture in the early, mild morning sun of that day. The silence that now lay over all this didn’t make it any better. Somehow I had preferred the fight - and pain roars of the degenerates. We have to get out of here. There’s no better time than now. But we can’t. Jan can’t yet... Where’s Tommy anyway? Neither do I, to be honest. How far do you think I’ll get with that? Does he even have a chance? He doesn’t look that way. But he proved he’s a tough dog, didn’t he? Days under this pile of corpses. Or just one? Whatever. Never mind. There’s another body down there trying to get up, but the ground’s holding it. The ground wants us all. The souls try to fly, but they can’t leave. They don’t know where to go. They have to stay here. What about... what about the woman? What about the kid? What were their names? Where are they? Where are they? I’m hungry. I don’t want to be here anymore. I want to go home. I want to go home. But you don’t leave those down there either. The ground ... the ground holds them tight and ... “Hey! What the fuck are you talking about? Is something wrong with you?” Hello, Jan. I didn’t realize I was talking out loud. Don’t you see what the ground’s doing? Can’t you see how he’s holding down? I’m tired now, Jan. There’s so many colors down there. Can’t you see them? Look quickly. They’re beautiful, but they get darker. The colors turn black. “Hey, don’t. Don’t fall over! Stay there, you hear? Pull yourself together! You can’t...”
Brenner: The Gospel of Madness (Book 5 of 6) Page 14
