The Charred Lands: City of Ash

by Josh A. Murphy

  “Clear.” I heard Penny call from across the front of the lobby.

  “Clear.” Kelvin seemed to echo.

  “Fucking fan-fucking-tastic.” Julian screaming, rising to his feet in victory.

  “Zach, take Mark's gun, everyone else help yourself to his ammo. Make sure you share it evenly though, and be quick about it, we need to make sure we hit them before they can form a proper plan. I've got a feeling that there's still plenty more of them where these unlucky mother fuckers came from.” Julian instructed – his face as cold as ice.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Mark's supplies did us well, we all quickly set about looting his body like he was kind of prize. We each were able to get two magazines of ammo between us, and I was able to replace my broken gun with his. Despite my broken finger, and the immense pain that it sent coursing through my body, I knew I had to take the automatic weapon, my revolver simply wouldn’t have the firepower.

  It felt strange that we were more concerned with what supplies we could take from Mark, than the fact that one of our squad had just fallen – but myself, and the rest of our little team knew that a time for mourning our fallen friend would come later. Right now, the building was still swarming with these people, and we all had a bullet with Mark's name on it ready for their skulls.

  “Julian, you might want to take a look at this.” Kelvin called out from near the lobby's reception desk. Out of the entire squad, it seemed as though Mark’s death had hit Kelvin the hardest. I expected to see anger and a thirst for revenge from someone like that, but instead, Kelvin seemed upset. He had since moved on from Mark and had begun searching the bodies of our fallen enemies. Thus far, he hadn't found anything worth mentioning, that was; until he reached the desk.

  Instantly, everyone took off jogging in Kelvin's direction, desperate to see what had spooked him. There was an urgency to his voice, but also a bleak undertone that sent shivers down my spine.

  “Fuck.” Keith mumbled to himself, the first of the group to reach Kelvin - of course, I was the last. By the time I reached the reception desk, the others all had a good chance to get a look at Kelvin's find. Their faces, or more importantly; eyes - told a worrying story. The second I laid my eyes on the massacre behind the desk, I knew exactly why their faces told such stories.

  I counted seven bodies, but it was hard to tell exactly how many there were. From what they were wearing, it was clear to see that these had once been Saviour of Man. They had been butchered – mutilated beyond recognition. I couldn't make out a single intact corpse. All had been gutted, decapitated, or had various other limbs violently torn or severed. That wasn’t the worst of it though. These men had been subjected to the ultimate humiliation. I had come across some barbaric scenes since I started traversing the Charred Lands, but this was by far the worst. It was the most cruel, degrading, hideous mutilation imaginable. Each of the detached heads that I could see had severed genitals hanging from their mouths.

  Though I was only able to look at the grisly scene for a few seconds, the images managed to implant themselves into my brain as though they had been scolded on by a scorching hot branding iron. Whoever did this was beyond heartless. The fact they were able to do such a thing sickened me. I struggled to see the enemy as humans before, but now even trying to suggest that the people who did this were just like me was laughable. As I spent more time in the Charred Lands, I was hardening, but I knew that no matter what, I would never stoop so low as to be capable of doing something like that. I didn’t have it in me to be like these psychopaths, I just prayed that people with the capability to inflict such deprived, humiliating acts of savagery were in the minority in this land.

  “The BASTARDS!” Keith roared, sending a spray of spit from his mouth – his face turned red as an overwhelming sense of anger consumed his very being. He began charging around the lobby like a crazed gorilla, marching up to each and every Anarchy's Children corpse that he could find, before unloading a short burst of machine gun fire into their heads. It was a waste of bullets, we all knew that, but nobody was going to stop him.

  “Do you recognise them?” Penny asked, looking directly at Julian.

  “Yes. These were the men who were stationed here. As far as I'm aware, this isn't even half of the men that should have been around, maybe there's survivors elsewhere in the building, but then again, that's probably wishful thinking.” He sighed, though his body language was the perfect picture of rage and anger, his voice was completely calm, almost unmoved. I knew it was an act, but the very fact that he was able to sustain the illusion of calmness unnerved me a little.

  “They were probably going to position these around outside, as a warning.” Turnip reckoned, as he continued to scan the mass heap of corpses.

  “Correct.” Julian agreed – and with that, he took off walking towards the escalators, “We've wasted too much time here already, they'll have prepared themselves for us.” He added.

  “Let's move out.” Penny ordered, her voice echoing out around the lobby. I took one final look around, letting my eyes linger on Mark for a little moment; I didn't feel guilty that he had died, but I did however feel like I could have prevented it. I spotted his shooter before he fired the fatal shot, but deep down, I knew there was nothing I could have done. Mark knew what he signed up for.

  We all quickly followed Julian up the escalators as he practically ran up them, keeping his gun ready at all times. The upstairs of the lobby looked clear, and had two walkways on either side of the upstairs that split off from the top of the stairs. Fancy, but rusted railings surrounded them, giving us a perfect overview of the lobby below. Julian informed us that the fire escape was our best bet, and led us down the walkway on the left.

  Once again the others all automatically placed themselves on either side of a door as Julian brought them to a stop. The door was closed and labelled ‘First Floor Long 1’. I had no idea what that meant, but Julian appeared to. Once again I stood at the back of the group as Julian carefully opened the door too. He peered inside for a moment, before pushing the door fully open.

  I was relieved to see that the corridor was empty. It was around a hundred feet long, with countless numbered doors on either side. We checked each of them as we made our way down the hall, each taking it slow and steady.

  “Why are these doors locked?” I asked, trying to open a door labelled 112, and of course, it was locked.

  “We always keep them locked, there’s nothing in them. The furniture has all been looted on the lower floors anyway. I would be more concerned if they were open.” He mumbled to himself, barely loud enough for me to hear. He clearly didn’t want to talk.

  The six of us continued on down the corridor in silence, the only noise coming from the metal handles as Julian and Keith checked the doors at the front of the group, each taking their own side. As usual, I found myself at the back of the group. I tried to keep up, but the pain in my hand was beginning to make me feel nauseous. My entire hand was throbbing in agony. I suspected that I might have done something more than simply dislocate my index finger.

  “I expect the fire escape will be manned, so get your arses ready.” Julian informed as we approached the end of the long corridor. I didn’t know if our progress was so slow because Julian and Keith had to keep stopping every few feet to check the next door, or if it was because my ever growing nerves were just magnifying the situation.

  Suddenly, I heard a noise behind me. Without even thinking, I spun around with my gun ready. It took me but a second to recognise the sound of a door handle.

  “Guys!” I screamed from the bottom of my lungs as several men charged out of one of the previously locked rooms. I aimed my gun at them, for all the good it would do. I heard Julian and the rest of his team swing around, their guns aimed too.

  Ahead of me, I counted twelve men spill into the narrow corridor, each equipped with machine guns just like ours. They appeared from two separate doors, each positioned opposite each other, a couple of feet behind
us.

  “Put your guns down, or we’ll cut you to pieces.” I heard a woman demand, instantly I recognised her voice. Several of the roughly dressed men separated like the red sea to make way for her. I watched in horror as the woman that had captured Azaria stepped to the front of her men.

  “Nice to see you again, Zach.”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “Azaria has been very talkative. My names Leaz, by the way.” She arrogantly smiled. She stood there, completely unarmed, and unconcerned. She was missing half of her face, and one of her hands, yet she seemed the most composed person in the entire corridor.

  “Now, put down your weapons.” She repeated.

  “Not a chance.” Julian called from behind me.

  Without saying a word, Leaz stood in silence for a moment, before nodding behind me. I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder, just in time to see even more enemies spill out of the fire escape at the bottom of the corridor, completely surrounding us.

  I was about to turn back to Leaz, when I felt the cold, metal butt of a guns strike me on the back of the head. The world turned to darkness.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “You've fucked it now.” Lizzie said, there was a playfulness to her voice. I stared into her beautiful eyes, they filled me with a much sought after warmth. I was tied to a chair, in a cold, dark metal room. She was sat atop of a kitchen counter, with her legs happily swinging over the edge like an innocent, playful child. The air in the room was thick with a lingering layer of smoke that seemed to float just above the floor. Despite the warmness hearing her voice gave me, chills still ran down my spine. Every now and then, I caught a glimpse of my breath.

  “Lizzie?” I groggily asked. A rope had been tied around my wrists, binding them together behind my back. I struggled against it, but it had been securely fastened.

  “Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me.” She said, suddenly the playfulness in her voice was gone. She jumped from the counter, landing firmly on both her feet. She began walking; circling around my chair. The childlike smile on her face disappeared, replaced by a glum, angry look.

  “It was a cruel trick that you played on me, you know?” She continued; still circling.

  “Leaving me all alone, after my protector… my only friend had died for you. Conrad died for you, and you repay him by abandoning me.” She spat, suddenly the smoke below my feet began to disperse, and small, flickering flames took its place. Lizzie suddenly came to a stop as the small, dancing flames reached her foot. Suddenly her eyes were different, the warmth in them had long disappeared, but now, so had the colour – I could only sit and stare at the black, lifeless eyes as the fire began to slowly creep up her pants.

  “I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.” I pleaded as I began to feel tears stream. I struggled a little more against my binds, but it was no good. The rope burned my wrists as I wriggled and twisted them.

  “You can apologise all you like, Zach. It doesn’t change the fact that you murdered me.” She calmly said, yet her voice seemed to explode from her mouth as though spoken from a creature the size of a dragon.

  By now, the flames had travelled up her legs, and had begun to burn her shirt. Yet still, she remained completely motionless, standing in front of me as the ground around us began to look like a fiery pit as though we were in hell itself.

  “Just listen Lizzie, let me explain.” I pleaded with a spit filled spray. Sweat began to trickle down my face and my fringe stuck to my forehead as the heat began to become unbearable. Still, she stood staring, allowing the flames to casually engulf her at a painfully slow rate.

  “Oh shut up Zach, I'm not Lizzie.” She smirked, as she knelt down in front of me.

  “Yes... you are... I mean… you can walk but...” I tried to argue as my mind was warped my fear and confusion, but I felt my tongue almost sink into the back of my throat as the black eyes in Lizzie’s eye sockets suddenly turned to a thick, gooey liquid and drip down her face like a waterfall from a tar covered nightmare.

  All of a sudden, the girl in front of me completely froze as the flames that had engulfed her disappeared, leaving her charred, black, and crispy. All I could do was sit, tied to my chair, staring what looked like a statue made of ash. Her solid hand gripped my left leg like a clamp.

  “Why is this happening to me!?” I yelled at the statue, as though hoping to scream some life back into the formerly disabled girl.

  Without warning, as though offended by my attitude, she began to crumble and crack. My jaw hung limp with wide eyes as she slowly dissolved into a small mound of grey ash at my trembling feet, leaving me all alone in the strange, dark room.

  “HELP!” I screamed.

  And then, it hit me; as though all serious inner thinking and logic had momentarily escaped me - a dream, I realised.

  But it felt so real. I could feel the sweat dripping down my face, and I could feel her hand gripping my leg so hard that it felt as though it may have bruised. I could feel the heat of the flames that swallowed Lizzie whole. It all felt so fucking real. A part of me suddenly began to argue back, reminding me that you couldn’t feel pain in a dream.

  “You’re not cracking up, Zach. This is a dream.” I heard a distant, whispered voice echo around the room as though it had come from within my own mind. She was nowhere to be seen, but still I could feel her presence.

  “Then why is this happening?”

  “I just want you to know… I blame you for everything.” She whispered, I could feel her, or something, flying around me in rapid circles like a tornado, “Lizzie is in trouble and she needs your help. Once you're done with the Church of Fire, you must return to Warrington, or I swear on the Lord that this guilt will remain on your conscience for the rest of your life.” The voice continued, with each passing word it began to sound less and less like Lizzie, “You’ll never find peace at Legion of Light if you don’t save her, it will slowly eat at you until you can’t take the guilt anymore.” It finally finished. Almost instantly, the presence seemed to disappear, taking with it the smoke that hugged the floor.

  I remained glued to the chair, shaking from my inner core like the quivering boy I really was. I always hid the constant fear that always remained present, threatening to cripple me at any given moment, but my barriers had been destroyed and my emotions dragged to the surface.

  The sight of Lizzie being reduced to a pile of ash replayed itself over and over in my mind, and her words echoed on an endless loop as I stared at the blank wall in front of me.

  Suddenly, I became aware of unfamiliar voices. I frantically looked around the room, yet still it was empty. At first, a sinking feeling matured in my chest as I thought Lizzie had returned for a second barrage of haunting words, but as they grew ever more present, I realised they were something else. I recognised some, and others sounded completely alien.

  Slowly, I began to feel the false, mental reality around me distort as the real world clawed its way back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “He’s coming to.” I heard Julian mumble amongst the rest of the voices as my consciousness began to wake itself up from what felt like a coma. Just like my haunting dream, I was soaking wet with what I hoped was sweat.

  Slowly I tried to open my eyes in the dark, gloomy room. A shooting headache felt like it was threatening to split my head right in two as I tried to focus my heavy eyes. Slowly the blurs around me began to take on the forms of people as I began to focus in.

  My entire body felt weak and ached, as though I had been asleep for a millennium. As the rest of the blurriness faded away, I sat up and looked around the small, packed room. As far as I could tell, we were in a large industrial sized freezer. I imagined it had once belonged to some kind of dinner hall that the tower must have once had. Of course, the coolers had long stopped working, making the room almost unbearably warm with so much body heat trapped into one small space. The metal walls, ceilings and floor almost made this look like something out of a metallic, shiny futu
re.

  Several large, curved meat hooks hung from the ceilings on rusty chains, but thankfully, nobody had been impaled on them, at least, not recently. Instead of swinging from razor sharp meat hooks, the rest of the people in the room sat in defeat on the floor. There was myself, along with; Julian, Penny, Kelvin, Turnip, and Keith. Out of the other four people in the room, I recognised one. My heart almost skipped a beat when I spotted Azaria slouched in a corner of the room, blankly staring at the floor as though she had been stripped of all emotions.

  “What’s going on?” I groggily asked as I rubbed my pounding head.

  Instantly everyone darted their heads in my direction, staring at me with tired, weary eyes. Their faces told me pretty much everything I needed to know.

  “We’re in a pretty fucked situation.” Julian casually half laughed, returning his attention to the small piece of metal he had been fidgeting with in his hand. I couldn’t tell what it was, but he seemed completely transfixed by the item.

  “What are we going to do?” I frantically panicked as I began to scan the room for a way out. The one and only door in the room was a large, metal door with large, metal hinges and without glass. It looked like it should have been the front door to an impenetrable fortress.

  Almost instantly, my eyes locked onto the three hanging meat hooks on the ceiling.

  “Could we…” I began to say as I pointed towards them, but before I could finish my sentence, Keith smothered my mouth with a large, sweaty palm. I stared at him in a concoction of fear and confusion for a few seconds, before I began to get the picture.