The rads moved a quarter of a mile up the road, then cut to the northwest across overgrown streets, increasing their pace even more. Jack crossed the bridge, a simple affair of steel culverts allowing a modest creek to flow under the roadway, and moved north a short distance where he stopped. He found a spot to watch the rads, fighting off the setting sun’s rays with a hand shadowing his binoculars. The battle to the northwest continued, fire intensifying and tapering off only to flare up once again. Jack could see nothing of the fight.
Brother Nelson’s group dropped out of sight when they moved into some low ground. They reappeared a minute later a bit further to the north, still heading northwest. Suddenly, they slowed and spread out. It appeared they were searching for something.
One of the men raised an arm, prompting the others to rush to his location. Several of the rads began digging while others fanned out in a defensive screen to the north and west. Jack watched the men digging. They worked feverishly, as if they were stealing pirate treasure.
A shout came from the north. Jack lowered his binoculars and looked that way. He saw several men on a roadway gesturing at the rads. A pair of them ran to the west, while the others brought weapons to bear.
The rads fired first, their opponents quickly replying in kind. The new force had the advantage of higher ground, but they were heavily outnumbered and lacking cover. They didn’t last long.
The rads resumed their digging with even more intensity than before. They’ve been made, Jack thought. Whatever it is they’re after, they have to move fast.
It dawned on Jack that the other rad force was a diversion. Whoever the other people were, they were drawn by off by Nelson’s comrades so his group could recover something.
Despite the effort the rads expended in their quest to uncover their target, the new force returned, this time with far greater numbers and a new fight ensued. Despite Jack’s position far from the battle, bullets hissed by with enough volume that he sought cover in the ditch beside the roadway.
The two sides exchanged fire while Jack made his way back to the bridge. It continued well into dark. Until the situation became less lethal, he decided he would settle for being a listener and not an observer or participant. With the coming darkness, he wrapped white cloth tape around the front sight assembly of his rifle.
The lulls between exchanges grew longer and longer. At some point, Jack noticed the battle to the northwest was probably over. There was no sound coming from there any longer.
Eventually the gunfire from the fight involving Nelson’s force ceased as well. After thirty minutes of quiet, Jack moved down the road a short distance. Men and women with torches walked through the position where Brother Nelson’s group had been digging and fighting. Not far away, Jack could see a tall building, five or six stories tall, well lit with both firelights and electric illumination. A pair of tall and narrow structures protruded skyward, either from or near the building, antennas was Jack’s guess. Behind the building, barely illuminated, was a small hill or another structure. Jack thought the lighted building might be an apartment complex or a hotel, but there was no way to be certain.
The other group left the rads’ excavation site and returned to the east-west roadway. Using moonlight and the stars that faintly lit his way, Jack moved to the rads old position, hoping the aluminum case might be there. He discovered the rads’ opponents had refilled the hole. Scattered around the area were several broken weapons and some loose gear, but no bodies, survivors, or aluminum case.
“You’ve come this far,” he whispered. “Let’s see who these other people are.”
Their torches made them easy to follow, but Jack was concerned about how much force these mystery people might have. They dispatched or ran off a hundred rads after all. They headed for the brightly lit building. Once Jack was on the old highway, he could see the place better. It was perhaps a mile distant. He thought he could discern a defensive wall forming a perimeter around a compound of buildings.
The group Jack followed passed a road that went to the right and went into the compound via another entrance to the west. Farther down the road was another group coming from the opposite direction. Jack moved into the darkness of a ditch and waited, observing the other group. They turned in at the same point as the others.
Jack moved to the road the first group bypassed. It was not lit, nor could he see any sign of people. The defensive wall ran parallel to the road, up the east side of the compound. It was much like those that surrounded towns and settlements on the edges of the Freelands, but this one appeared to be in disrepair. Looking through an opening where the road entered the compound, through gaps in tree cover, he could see the two groups moving toward the well-lit building. They carried their wounded and dead along with the bodies of the rads they killed.
There was a guard post near the wall opening, but it was unmanned. Jack thought it likely that the rad attack had caught them by surprise and thrown routine into disarray. Whoever these people were, they responded quickly, as if they had contingency plan in place and if the day’s battles were a repeat of the things Abel Pilgrim described, it would explain why the rads came away battered and beaten. But why? Jack asked himself. What were the rads after?
Jack moved inside the perimeter of the wall and discovered it was indeed old and in some disrepair. He guessed it was from the days shortly after the Calamity and its utility was no longer a necessity. Who are these people?
Jack hoped they might be akin to Freelanders, but until he knew that for certain, he was going to remain a ghost. Jack moved west through a wooded area, crossing trails that indicated there were regular patrols that passed through. As he neared the tree line, he stopped and knelt. Ahead was an open area of mowed grass with a large dais a hundred yards away. The bodies of the rads were placed near the dais, while the wounded were taken to the building another hundred and fifty yards distant.
The building was large, six stories tall with hundreds of windows. Jack had never seen a building as large as this inhabited by people. It was obvious the building suffered damage in the past, since repaired using material from a large ruined structure to the south of Jack’s position.
Jack suspected he was looking at a side or the rear of the building and the road the others followed in might lead to the front.
Large floodlights illuminated a large flat concrete space. There were hundreds of people busy doing a variety of activities. The one that interested Jack the most was the small group of people who were stripping the dead bodies of the rads. Other than weapons and ammunition, they didn’t bother sorting anything. They simply threw everything into a pile in front of the dais, the aluminum box included. Before long, bloody clothing, dirty footwear, and a myriad other items buried the box. The people placed the bodies in a row, their arms at the sides, legs extended with the heels together. Jack thought their treatment of the bodies seemed to be respectful.
As the evening wore on, fewer and few people came into the compound. The wounded were taken inside, the dead were taken somewhere to the right side of the building. The rad dead were left near the dais. Jack was tempted to sneak out and take the box, but there was too much activity, which meant too many eyes that might see him. He held a tiny amount of hope these people might be decent folk and might just give him the box just for the asking, but until he learned more about them, larceny was still his plan.
Jack decided to spend the night where he was. He pulled a camo net from his rucksack, and after throwing leaves and branches on top of it, he used it to cover his ruck and himself. Unless they have dogs or trip over me, they won’t find a thing.
By the earliest hours of morning, things settled down except for numerous patrols that walked the road that led in and out of the place and those that ran a route around the large building. Jack watched the patrols, but felt an attempt to grab the aluminum box was unwise. The rad attack had them alert and nervous.
Jack slept lightly and fitfully. As dawn approached, he decided to eat in c
ase he needed to move. Light replaced darkness in due time and once bright enough, Jack could see some of the other structures near the large building, and learned the tall spire on top of the building was an obelisk constructed of the same material used to repair the building, while the tall structure behind the building was made of scaffolding. Even though he could see only the upper portion, he thought it might be an antenna or they were using it for construction.
Jack focused on the comings and goings of the people who dwelt in the place. By the time it was full light, a pair of men rolled a flat wheelbarrow to the dais and loaded a body onto it. Rigor mortis was evident, near its peak by Jack’s estimation. They took the body off to the right side of the large building and rounded the corner, disappearing from sight. Jack decided to move to the north and see where they were taking the bodies.
He moved back into the trees, then warily made his way north. Satisfied he had gone far enough, he crept nearer to the tree line. He saw the two men gently placing a body at the base of the scaffolding tower some two hundred and fifty yards away, and then return to the grassy area for another. The hill Jack could see the night before was visible from his new vantage point. The base of the scaffolding was directly adjacent to it.
Jack scanned the area through his binoculars. Another large building beyond the compound was just visible, wrecked and spread across the ground. Jack’s sight passed over the hill. It looked odd to him. He could not figure out the composition of the mass. He adjusted the focus and brought the binoculars to his eyes again and fine-tuned for maximum clarity. After a few moments, his jaw dropped. He lowered the optics. “Necros,” he muttered.
. . . . .
6
Bring out your Dead
. . . . .
The mass Jack thought to be a hill was something else entirely. It was a pile of human bones, a pile higher than a six-story building. Jack had seen smaller mounds in the areas near the Freelands, but had never seen one on a scale such as this. Despite hearing dozens of accounts from senior Rangers of huge bone piles near the site where Tulsa once stood, he was not prepared for seeing the apparition before him now.
In the days after the Calamity, many towns, cities, emergency management sites, and refugee camps had to deal with death on an unprecedented scale. In many cases, they were overwhelmed and chaos overtook order. Efforts to dispose of the bodies failed and they were simply stacked like cordwood or thrown haphazardly into piles, usually away from the living. Necropolis became the common term for such piles of bones and was the source for another term, necro.
The Calamity was an event like no other before, one that nearly wiped humanity from existence. Those that survived and strove to continue living often turned to religion for strength. Many found little comfort in preexisting faiths and chose to follow any one of several new belief systems. Among these were death cults. Some revered those who passed and tended the piles of bones. Others came to believe the Calamity was an event brought on by supreme powers and the mass deaths were a bellwether for the future. It was obvious to Jack the necros he was watching were not simply tending to bone piles.
Jack now wondered what purpose the tower constructed of heavy scaffolding served. I doubt it’s an antenna, and if it’s for construction…. Jack grimaced and shook his head. You’ve truly stepped in it, dumbass. Hip deep.
. . . . .
Jack crept back to his previous position near the pile of clothing and gear removed from the rads. He had a decision to make, leave without the aluminum case, or leave with it. The risk is virtually the same, he thought. If the case is still within reach tonight, I’ll try for it. If it’s not, you get your stupid ass home. Until then, he would wait and observe.
Patrols continued to roam the area within the compound, but there were fewer than the night before. Some passed behind Jack on the paths through the trees. One patrol walked the edge of the tree line and passed within twenty-five feet of him. He noticed the guards carried M3A1 .45 caliber submachine guns. Not a common arm around the Freelands, and certainly not in the numbers the necros possessed. He surmised they must have found a cache of them somewhere, or they belonged to one of the few military units that still carried them prior to the Calamity.
The demeanor of the necros was different, and changed as the day went by. They seemed happy, some acted positively joyful. Jack could see no reason for the change, and considering the losses they had taken the previous day, he didn’t understand it.
In the middle of the afternoon, a large work crew descended on the grassy area and dais. Some picked up what little garbage littered the grounds; others used sledgehammers to drive metal poles into the ground, encircling an area in front of the dais; while another group ran wiring and installed electric lights on the dais itself.
Jack was sure they would remove the rads’ gear, but they merely rearranged it slightly, centering it in front of the raised platform. Another group of people brought large unlit torches and placed them into circular holders placed atop the metal poles.
A ceremony, Jack thought. There are no accounts of necro rituals. If you somehow survive this, a pack of archivists will be debriefing you at Ranger Central until you’re old and grey.
Jack caught snippets of conversations when necros came within earshot. He was correct about the ceremony, but learned little other than it would be conducted by the high priest and the lesser priests and priestesses that attended him.
. . . . .
Necros gathered within the circle of torches as full dark took hold. Hundreds of them stood shoulder to shoulder. They stood, speaking quietly to one another until a procession of white-robed people walked from the large building. They moved at a slow and metered pace.
A man led the procession, his robe differing from the others only by the addition of two wide black bands that ran up the front and over the shoulders. Jack was sure he was the high priest. He disappeared from Jack’s sight behind the dais only to reappear on top moments later. Some priests and priestesses joined the people in the circle, others following the high priest onto the dais.
Lights from the dais came on, illuminating the high priest. Priests and priestesses lit the encircling torches.
The high priest raised his arms and brought them down again to speak in a powerful and clear voice. “Reapers of the Ascension, we are victorious once again. Our opponents become more clever as time goes on. This past day they used a diversionary attack with the setting sun at their back to draw us from their target. They actually put spade to ground at the site. We must not be so lax in the future. We shall recruit. We shall multiply, and no opponent shall find us lacking. They seek it, this El Dorado of theirs, yet we use their carcasses to build our path to everlasting existence. Reap, brothers and sisters. Reap, that we may ascend. As the sepulcher rises, we rise!”
The gathering cheered loudly, clapping and waving their arms. Some of them looked rapturous. The high priest let the cheering continue for a couple of minutes, and then raised his hands, instantly stilling them.
He pointed up toward the top of the scaffolding where five people stood on an overhanging platform. “Let the ceremony begin,” he bellowed. A large arch on the end of the platform burst into flames while bright lights beamed from the obelisk atop the main building. The gathering of necros cheered, then a chant started, “Ah-Csen-Sion, Ah-Csen-Sion, Ah-Csen-Sion,” as they looked to the platform above the bone pile.
Four of the people on the platform grasped the fifth person. Jack could see it was a man, his limbs bound tightly. He looked through his binoculars and realized it was a body lashed to poles. The necros lifted the body, turning it to a horizontal position, and then swung him to-and-fro as if he was a battering ram. After a few swings, they let the body go sailing through the flames of the arch to fall onto the mammoth pile of bones below. A raucous cheer went up from the crowd. Necros brought another body to the end of the platform and the chant began once again, then the cheers as the body flew through the flaming arch. This was repeated ove
r and over. Jack stopped watching, knowing each time another body was added to the pile by the ritualistic chants and cheers.
If they killed all of the rads, that means they have a around hundred bodies to dispose of in this way, passed through his mind. There is no way I can get to the pile of gear where the box is. Jack soon learned he was wrong on both counts.
The cheering stopped and Jack looked to see why. The necro high priest stood with his hands held high above his head as guards brought a row of people onto the dais. Bonds held their hands behind their backs, while manacles linked them via chains at the ankles.
“The coming dawn shall see us lay our kin and kind to rest. Before that, this shall be a night of remembrance,” the high priest said, his fists clenched before him. “Chronicled by the Learned for celebration forevermore. Our honored dead have been prepared for placement. Bones of the reaped have been added to the pile. Bones in numbers we’ve not presented in quite some time. Now we add blood paid for the appeasement and blessings of the Keepers of the Abyss!” The high priest raised his fists and face to the sky, prompting the loudest cheer yet. “A dozen sacrifices! A dozen who will journey through the Three Agonies!” he screamed. The sounds from the crowd were deafening, louder than Jack thought a gathering of such a size could generate.
The high priest brought his arms down and pointed to the large and well-lit concrete area next to the building. “Come, we enter a night for the annals.”
The torches were lifted from their holders and the crowd followed the high priest, guards, prisoners, and attendants in an orderly procession. This will be your best shot, Jack thought. He watched the sentries and the patrols, looking for a gap in their coverage.
The procession halted and the necros gathered in a semicircle facing the building. They began swaying in unison while making a humming sound. The gathering had drawn many of the patrols, leaving just a few necros still in the area near the dais. Those that Jack could see directed their attention to the ceremony by the building.
The Blastlands Saga Page 42
