From Oblivion's Ashes

by Michael E. A. Nyman

  There was a pause.

  “T-Bone? Do you want to answer that?”

  “Marshal did offer,” he answered quietly, “but I turned him down.”

  Baffled silence greeted his response.

  “The truth is,” T-Bone said awkwardly, “I don’t wanna leave the Bastards. At least, not yet. You guys are assholes, but… at the moment, you’re the only family I got left. And the fact is I like bein’ Private T-Bone of the Winter Bastards who saves people. I like him a whole fuck of a lot more that the guy I used to be. Maybe, after a while, I’ll feel different. Henley said he’s got a job waiting for me when I do. But for now, this is where I need to be.”

  “Shit, man,” Tyler said. “That is the craziest shit I’ve ever heard.”

  “Yeah. You coulda been out, man!”

  “How in the fuck could you turn down an offer like that?”

  T-Bone was silent.

  “I understand exactly why he turned it down,” Captain Vandermeer said, raising his voice. “I want all of you to listen carefully. The full story of what happened is still fresh, so you get to hear it here first. T-Bone didn’t just save Angie’s life. He willingly antagonized a madman, just to give her more time to make her escape. The severity of his wounds were a testament to his success, and may as well have been self-inflicted. And in so doing, he not only saved Angie’s life, but Luca’s and Krissy’s as well.”

  Vandermeer stepped around in front of a surprised T-Bone

  “Now, I may not understand everything that happened to you in that room, T-Bone,” he said, “but I do understand the dark bubble you find yourself in now, floating high above the ashes of sins you felt you could never wash away. And I understand the need for the clarity that being a member of the Bastard’s can bring you.”

  And then, with a move as sharp and hard as a knife, he saluted, holding the pose in front of an astonished group for a full five seconds.

  “All that aside,” he said without losing the pose, “I am proud of you, T-Bone. Proud to have you as a member of the Winter Bastards, as proud as any soldier I have ever fought beside, and I’ll be proud to fight beside you in the future.”

  He relaxed the salute, and added, “Later, when we’re all assembled, the whole company will be saluting you as well. In the Winter Bastards, we honor our heroes.”

  “Jesus Christ, T-Bone,” Brock said, sounding impressed. “You did all that?”

  “You’re going to start making the rest of us look bad.”

  “On the contrary,” the Captain said. “T-Bone may have single-handedly done what no one else could do, not even Marshal. It was on Marshal’s order alone that the Winter Bastards were spared, based on his notion that human lives were too valuable to throw away. It was a plan that was not without its detractors.”

  He smiled. “Including yours truly.”

  He lowered his salute. “Now, however, thanks to T-Bone, public opinion has swung in favor of the Winter Bastards. Most people, even your former victims from the slaughterhouse, are at least willing to accept the possibility that there might be a better use for all of you than the satisfaction of exterminating you wholesale. Some are even starting to think of you as the heroes you’re pretending to be. And you owe it all to Master Corporal Terrence Bonham.”

  “Master Corporal?” Vito demanded. “Are you fucking kidding me? Wait a minute. Does this mean he outranks me?”

  “Not quite, sergeant,” Captain Vandermeer answered. “On the other hand, seeing as Master Corporal was my old rank, you can appreciate the honor I’m giving him.”

  “Marshal felt I needed some kind of reward,” T-Bone said, sounding embarrassed, “so I got a promotion, and a month off, after I heal up. And a couple of pool tables for the barracks, and…”

  “Pool tables? You got us pool tables?”

  “Yeah. And a ping pong table and a dartboard. Plus, I got him to promise to install our own bar, somewhere down the road. Only the drinking is gonna be restricted to special occasions. And it’ll be taken away if we…”

  The conditions that would lead to having the bar taken away were lost in the thunderous cheer from the Winter Bastards.

  “I should be offended, you know,” Valerie murmured. “I can tell that you’re not really paying attention to our dance.”

  “Sorry,” Marshal said, instantly ashamed. “I just-”

  “I know, I know.” She sighed. “As long as we’re being honest, I’ll admit that I drifted away myself to the problem of allocating more resources to Albert’s department.”

  “Oh? How’s that working out? It’s really important, that-”

  “Marshal!”

  “Sorry!” He closed his eyes in embarrassment, then looked up again into her eyes. “I... I am sorry. I promise to... I mean, it’s busy right now, but I really want-”

  “I know,” Valerie said, inches away and meeting his gaze.

  “One way or another,” he said, “I’ll make the time, if... if that’s what you...”

  “I do.”

  Marshal’s intake of breath pressed them closer.

  “So do I.”

  “Look up.”

  A little confused, he glanced upwards and saw the sprig of mistletoe.

  “It’s the reason I dragged you over to this particular spot to have our dance,” she said, smiling up at him impishly. “Now, you have to-”

  “Mr. Einarsson? Sorry to interrupt you, but-”

  “Not right now, Martin.”

  “But, Mr. Einarsson-”

  “Martin, if you try to finish that sentence,” Valerie interrupted, her eyes still inches away and staring into Marshal’s, “I swear I will rip off that tie you’re so proud of and strangle you with it!”

  Martin hesitated, and seemed to see for the first time what was happening.

  “Ah!” he exclaimed, looking guilty and taking a huge step backwards. “Yes, of course. My apologies. Take all the time you need.”

  Marshal stared into her eyes a few seconds longer, then bent down for a long, lingering kiss. She melted into him as he did, and for a moment, there was no party, no apocalypse, and no reason to be anywhere else in the world.

  And then, with regret, the kiss broke.

  “I’d… uh, I’d better…” he stammered, looking dazed as they each pulled apart. “They, um…”

  “Go!” she said sternly, though her ears had turned a faint shade of pink. “I’ve done the damage to your psyche that I intended to do. Go forth and remember.”

  “I don’t think that will be a problem,” he said, allowing himself to be led away by Martin. He looked back at her over his shoulder, then turned and left.

  Valerie sighed. But then, she caught sight of Albert and Jackie making their way over to her, and knew that duty called.

  Later, the feasting began, and the general sense of good feeling continued. There was plenty of food, well-cooked and served up buffet style. Waiters and cooking assistants alternated in shifts, so as to ensure that everyone got time to enjoy the feast.

  “Meatballs, Mr. Sabbatini?” Martin asked, delivering the silver platter up to him personally. “Henley and the kitchen staff all send their compliments and are eager to hear your assessment.”

  Luca looked down at the dish, but hesitated. Under the lights, a part of his face seemed to turn green at the sight of them. Seated nearby, Krissy’s face mirrored his discomfort.

  “I… uh… I seen enough meatballs already, Marty,” Luca said. “They look… uh…”

  “They look fantastic,” Krissy broke in helpfully. “It’s just that…”

  “But Luca,” Martin said, looking concerned. “I… I can’t tell you the trouble they all went to on your behalf. When you personally visited to share with them the Sabbatini recipe…”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Luca said, picturing the gobs of ground up goo congealing into zombie arms and legs. “I don’t know what to tell you, Marty…”

  He stopped as Angie stretched out with her fork and stabbed one of the meatball
s. Without hesitation, she took a bite.

  “They’re amazing,” she exclaimed. “Can I have some more?”

  “Of course, Ms. Camilleri,” Martin said, smiling at her. “As you can see, there are plenty.”

  Luca’s face clouded over, and he seized a fork.

  “The day,” he growled, “that Luca Sabbatini is afraid of a meatball is the day he fucking ends it all. You hear me? You… you bring that fucking platter over here, Marty.”

  “Of course, Mr. Sabbatini,” the concierge said.

  “May I have one, too?” Krissy asked, holding up a fork.

  “You’d better,” Luca said, stabbing a ball and taking a bite. “This is Christmas dinner, and… and marone! These meatballs are amazing!”

  Marshal leaned over to Valerie and whispered into her ear, causing her to spill over with laughter.

  Just before dessert, the ‘special presents’ to everyone in the community from Marshal and Kumar were handed out. They turned out to be state-of-the-art, personalized tablets, complete with chargers, that had been recovered from a delivery truck which had been knocked over on its way to Techie Direct. Linked in with the WiFi system, each tablet could access the network with the same efficacy as the Camoucart computers, produce a city map that showed which cameras were or were not active, and communicate directly with other tablets. Each one was also, Kumar informed everyone proudly, equipped with a wide assortment of minor games, music, and viewing apps.

  Later, with the leftovers still sitting out for anyone who still had room, the live music began. The Four Dead Hombres performed, playing a mix of different genres and styles during each of their sets. They weren’t very practiced as a group, but they proved to be quite gifted individually and received a great deal of praise.

  When not playing, Cesar would hang out at a table with Jerome and the other musicians. Both still wore their elf costumes. They had discovered, to their surprise, that the tight fitting, green leotard not only revealed their willingness to put aside pride for the sake of the children, but also their well-muscled physiques. This wicked combination had had the unexpected benefit of attracting many of the community’s single women, which attention was not unwelcome.

  It was sometime after twelve that a partly drunk Luca staggered down a well-lit hallway with a not nearly so drunk Marshal under one arm.

  “Marshal,” the big man said. “You were right. This… fucking party was a good idea. I never thought I’d ever feel this happy again in… fucking years! And… and I’m not the only one. Everybody seems to be getting along. We’re like… like the mob. Only with less killing, you know? A big, extended family.”

  “We’re becoming a tribe,” Marshal agreed, sipping a beer and allowing the bigger man to lead him down a long hallway. “There’s hope for us yet. Now that Paul is gone, are you thinking of joining the police?”

  Luca frowned with displeasure. “Dunno. Got the… Crapmobile thing going. I mean, okay… Jerome could probably take it over, but…”

  He shook his head.

  “HEY! That’s fucking business. We’re supposed to be partying. Got me a hot teacher with a Santa fetish simmering on a shelf somewhere so I can spend time with you. Don’t make me waste it!”

  “Sorry,” Marshal sighed. “The party was a good thing. It was just what we needed to pull us together and help get us through the winter. It’s not all about food, shelter, and security. We need to keep up morale. Unfortunately, for me, the party’s over, and I have to get back to work. With that new bank of solar panels, not to mention the new batteries, there’s a whole lot of new wiring that…”

  He paused.

  “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “You’re working too fucking hard, Marshal,” Luca grumbled. “People like you... you need to learn how to relax and smell the fucking flowers… or something. You’re the boss, for fuck’s sake! If you go whacko, we’re all fucked! You know what I mean? That’s where we’re going.”

  “I think you might want to ease up on the alcohol,” Marshal suggested,

  “Sorry. Present from Torstein. Some kinda German liqueur. Name sounds like a sneeze, but – HOOO! – it’s got a kick. Ahh! Ah, ha, ha! Here we are!”

  They stumbled into a small room filled with people. Marshal saw Angie standing next to Valerie. Krissy stood, holding Brian’s arms, which were wrapped around her from behind, with Kumar standing nearby. Torstein was accompanied by his new romantic interest, and there was Elizabeth and Steve, now an official couple once more. God stood next to Eric Vandermeer, who was smartly dressed in full uniform and flanked by T-Bone, Vito, and Brock. Jackie and Albert were there, and Gladys standing next to Dr. Burke. He saw Brad holding a drink next to Jerome and Cesar, and he saw Nick Scratchard, Eva Brodsky, James Snake, Peter Hanson, Martin Phillips, Deanna Styles, and Alicia Givens. Sophie Wyatt came over and took Luca’s other arm, pulling him away so that Marshal now stood alone. And there were others – so many others that the room seemed full to bursting.

  “Hello, Marshal,” Torstein said, stepping up to take on the role of spokesperson, since Luca was fast losing coherency. “We’re all here to show our appreciation. We’re crowded because nobody wanted to be left out. Believe me, there would have been more, but we had to start making the cut somewhere. There might have been trouble if Kumar hadn’t offered to set up a simulcast to the main dining room, where everyone could see.

  “You see, we know how hard you’ve been working to help make this Christmas happen. As weird as it seems to have a Christmas celebration at the end of the world, you made it real. You’ve given us food, community, presents, and security. And while we, the people of New Toronto don’t agree on everything, there is one thing we’re all unanimous on. We’re all in agreement that, if we have anything, we owe it all to you. You’ve given us so much that it’s time we gave something back. So we have a couple of Christmas presents we want to give to you.”

  “Marshal!” Kumar shouted, which kicked off a sudden wave of cheers and applause. Torstein held up his hands and there was silence.

  “First of all,” he continued, “we want to give you this, our first gift. You say you were alone, and going crazy because, based on what you’d seen, you had to believe that you were the last man in the world. You told us that nightmare haunted you, and that everything you did, you did just so that you could escape.”

  He held up his hands to gesture to the crowd around him.

  “Well, look at us now, Marshal Einarsson,” he said. “Look at what you’ve done. This is how far you have come from being the last man in the world. You have a family now that stretches into the hundreds. Merry Christmas.”

  A loud, thunderous cheer greeted this announcement.

  “Second gift!” Torstein shouted, and the noise died down. “There isn’t much that you don’t already have, or that you even need, but with some help, we’ve taken the liberty of upgrading your workshop. You’re going to have state of the art tools, parts, mechanisms, wiring, and machinery. It’s being moved out of your bedroom, by the way, and into the back storage area of the apartment.”

  Another applause greeted this announcement.

  “I’m told,” Torstein continued, “that you now have the ability - if that’s what you want to do - to build robots, lasers, and so forth. Personally, I’m expecting some kind of bond-villain, secret base, complete with shark tanks and laser sweeps. I’m told that you are now better outfitted than most government research programs.”

  “Great,” Brad shouted. “We trade one apocalypse for another!”

  A great deal of laughter greeted this comment.

  “I oversaw the changes myself,” Scratchard announced. “With help,” he added grudgingly.

  “We all pitched in, Marshal,” Eva added. “Trust me. You haven’t had an electronics workshop until you’ve had it tripped out by a team of Physics doctorates and tech designers.”

  “It… it sounds amazing,” Marshal said, looking surprised. “I don’t know what to say, but
… thank you!”

  “Nah, ah, ah!” Torstein chided him. “Save your thanks until you’ve received your third and final gift. This gift is from those of us who have come to know you the best. It’s a bit risky, so we ran it past Luca and Angie first, since they’re your closest family, and they both approved.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be terrific,” Marshal said. “What is it?”

  “It’s waiting for you,” Torstein said, pointing to a large, thick and ornate door on the far wall, “right behind that door. Valerie? If you would please do the honors?”

  “Me?” Valerie looked surprised. “But I don’t know what’s in there.”

  “You are the vice-dictator,” Torstein said. “We all felt that there wasn’t anyone more appropriate for the unveiling than you. So if you wouldn’t mind?”

  “Of course.” She turned to Marshal, offering him her arm. “Mister Dictator? If you would follow me?”

  “My pleasure,” Marshal answered.

  The door was opened and they went inside.

  “Oh my!” Valerie said, her eyes wide as she gazed at the room.

  “You could say that again,” Marshal said. “Look at this place! It’s awesome!”

  “There’s even a fireplace!” Valerie said excitedly, “and a thick, furry rug! And look at the décor!”

  “Yeah,” he said, walking over to the enormous, television screen and scanning the devices. “This is a twenty thousand dollar entertainment system. And look! An electric fireplace! How in the hell did they sneak all this stuff in without my knowing about it!”

  “Did you see the kitchenette?” Valerie asked. “It’s beautiful.” She flung open the fridge and cupboards. “Look! It’s fully stocked with food! These are all luxury items! I can’t even believe they found most of this stuff! Marshal, I am so envious.”

  “And there’s a bar,” Marshal said approvingly, studying some of the bottles. “Nice vintage. Somebody must have discovered a wine cellar during their scavenging. And… oh look! There’s about an ounce of marijuana too. Wow. Thanks, Brian and Kumar. You really did try to think of everything.”

  “Check out this bed!” Valerie called out from the other room. “King-size mattress with black silk sheets and linens. Oh my God, it’s so comfortable! Marshal, you have to come and try this!”