Fallocaust (The Fallocaust Series Book 1)

by Quil Carter

  I squared my shoulders and took in a breath of the night air. I felt like a thousand pounds had been taken off my chest. The weight of being a leader was gone, back on the shoulders of Greyson Merrik. The spazzy fuck of the greywastes.

  I took in a big inhale and blew the smoke in front of me, wisps of thick plumes tinged blue with my night vision.

  I patrolled my new faction of Aras and made some decisions about what I wanted to do with it before the cold set in. Right now I would help Killian make that greenhouse, and see about buying an Ieon generator to give it a bit of heat during the winter. That would set me back probably a hundred or so dollars, maybe more. But if we could make trees, plants, vegetables, and all that, we could resell and make the money back. I could see about getting some chickens too.

  I wanted to be as self-sufficient as possible, really show that asshole that I didn’t need him or his town. If everything went as planned West Aras would be completely self-running. It shouldn’t be that hard considering we only had two residents.

  I walked to the end of Quil Street and mapped out my territory in my head. The loader tub would be mine now, and Killian’s house, of course, and his graveyard. I also had the park we had planted the seeds in, with an unusable lake, and a small forest of black trees. There were also some houses in good condition too that I could fix up and eventually take applications to occupy. Though they would have to be way away from where I lived, and only people I could stomach. No kids, that was for sure.

  I turned down a small street west off of Quil and continued to walk around my new town for the next couple of hours. It was a nice to be alone in the dead of night. The cats kept me company, and even that damn deacdog came to follow me around. How he kept getting out of Murry’s was anyone’s guess. When he had seen me he immediately came over wagging his whole back end. I gave him a pat since he did do me a big favour last month and let him follow me around. The cats didn’t even give a shit either; my guess was he had been loose for quite a while if those suspicious assholes were used to him.

  The deacdog and I carried on, the moon hovering above the sentry walls. Not one of my coworkers saw me walking by, though their eyes were usually trained on the greywastes. Even the dog was rather quiet; they were quite stealthy animals when you trained them not to bark at everything.

  I rubbed my neck; it was sore but the skin hadn’t broken. I felt my mood darken when I remembered what Greyson had done to me. He had never taken it that far before.

  Whether it was attempted murder like Killian believed or just him flipping shit, who knew. I didn’t know what to think about it, it just ticked me off. It shouldn’t have happened and I really didn’t know why it had. I didn’t fuck up that much.

  Well… whatever. It was his issue not mine, I got out of Aras just like he had ordered me. I dare him to come onto my land now.

  I was about half a mile behind my house, walking over fallen light posts and over-turned cars when I started to hear something very out of place.

  Singing…

  I clicked the dog towards me and pulled out my M16. Though I wasn’t really expecting a confrontation, what had happened when I had first met Perish was burned into my mind. I may have make mistakes but I never made mistakes twice.

  The dog dipped its ears and dropped his head but he stayed right beside me. With my gun in my hands I quietly walked towards the noise.

  “And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad. The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had.”

  It was a man, but I didn’t recognize the voice. I turned down a street in between Killian’s house and my house, one mostly cleared off but with a stack of rusty cars in the middle, piled to be a small barricade, probably from some war long ago.

  “I find it hard to tell you, I find it hard to take–”

  I could see his silhouette on top of the cars. He was lying on his back with his arms behind his head, reddish brown hair and skin that shined under the disappearing moon. I knew who he was.

  “Out late, are we?” I put my gun away.

  “I am.” I saw Asher nod, a second later a red ember appeared, then a wisp of grey smoke. Upon feeling the tension go down, the dog started to relax. I gave him a wave to stand down and he disappeared behind me.

  I stepped onto the window frame of the first car and made my way up to the summit of the pile. Each car was stacked on top of one another like a Jenga puzzle, at least six cars high. It was solid, though every piece of steel my gaze rose past was riddled with bullet holes.

  When I reached the top, I saw he was sitting up now, his feet hanging off the roof of the top car. He gave me another nod when he saw me. A red glow lit up from the joint he had up to his lips.

  We sat in silence, puffs of smoke and cold breath rising from our mouths as we watched the silver moon disappear behind the walls. Below us the deacdog slid in and out of my vision like a phantom, a silhouette of grey weaving through refuse piles, chasing hoppers or flies, or perhaps picking up long lost scents only a dog could detect.

  I reached into my own pocket and pulled out a quil. I didn’t like the straight weed cigs, they made me too stoned. Perhaps when I was alone in my basement or with Killian I could kick one back but not when I was with someone new. The quils gave me more of a slightly stoned, warm buzz.

  “I thought I told you to get a hotel,” I said after a long silence.

  The glow of the cigarette lit his green eyes, pale and cold in the moon’s glare. “I haven’t seen the moon in so long, nor the stars, the clouds,” he replied with a wry smile. “You never know what you’re missing until you’re locked in hell.”

  I noticed his voice for the first time in that moment. It had a calm quietness about it that I found oddly captivating. A softer tone but not at all submissive; the opposite, it sounded dominant, assured. How curious. His voice defied his boyish looks, but then again, everything about him, from his job, to his nature, to his attitude defied his appearance.

  It intrigued me enough to push conversation though I had been enjoying the silence.

  “I get that.” I flicked some ash and watched it disappear into the darkness below. I smirked as I saw the ash fall onto the deacdog’s head. When he noticed us looking at him, he looked up and wagged his tail.

  “Nice dog,” he said.

  “He follows me around, he thinks we’re friends.”

  “But you don’t have friends do you?” Asher said, his voice was playful now.

  The ember lit up again, and a moment later he blew out the smoke. His heartbeat was steady, but his breathing was faster than normal. I wondered if he was wary of me, it would be smart of him to be. We were alone, a solid mile from my basement and one more from any occupied house. I could do anything to him right now and no one would know.

  Though I had no intentions of it, my mind did enjoy having the option. At least if this newcomer tried anything with me, his execution could be clean and unnoticed. I wouldn’t even mention I saw him. His meat would be mine and Killian's to eat.

  “One friend and one boyfriend,” I replied. I noticed my own voice was matching the smooth flow of his. I decided to go with it. It would make him more comfortable around me, and I wanted to get him to drop his guard, so I could see what was underneath that smirking mask.

  “A fellow Mayor of West Aras?” Asher winked at me.

  News travelled fast. “You seem to be getting in the know rather quickly.”

  I winked back to see what reaction I would get. As I suspected his heart jumped. He wanted to be accepted. Good. It meant he wasn’t going to try and be dominant with me. He wanted to impress me, he wasn’t looking for me to impress him.

  We were off to a good start. I didn’t do well with dominant types. They always ended up dead in suspicious circumstances.

  I watched a smile flash for a brief moment on Asher’s face, before he turned away and brushed his auburn hair behind his ears. There were two small hooped earrings in each, both silver, twisted with black.

/>   “I was having a drink in your local tavern. People look at you as someone who gets things done,” Asher said, smoke flowing out of his mouth as he spoke. His green eyes didn’t leave my face as he took another drag. “I only wish they’d suffered more.”

  Yes, I remember the comment he made before he left the building I had put Killian in. The coldness of his voice came from a heart steeled from years trying to survive in the greywastes. That head must be overflowing with stories and experiences. It was of no doubt in my mind I was looking forward to hearing some of them. I would enjoy it, I didn’t mind his company.

  I had heard all of Reno’s stories, and Killian never opened up about his life before Aras. It seemed to be too painful to talk about. If this Asher Fallon was as unyielding as his voice and mannerisms suggested he would have no problem giving me every grisly detail.

  We finished our cigarettes in silence. I enjoyed the quiet, but not as much as I enjoyed the calm acceptance between the two of us that at this time, there was no need to talk. I did have my questions, and my curiosities but none of them would give me a clearer picture of who this man was more than silence.

  When the only thing in the sky was the stars and the haze, I rose and without a word between us, I jumped down into the abyss and made contact with the road.

  I looked ahead at the shrouded mountain of debris, and counted in my head.

  Before I reached seven, there was another impact beside me and a small grunt. I looked to see him buckle just slightly under his injured leg but just as quickly as the pain swept his face, it left. Replaced with the cold pale eyes that burned through the gathering fog.

  He looked ahead unfazed, the pain forgotten. Raticaters had always been made out of tough stuff.

  We walked together, he stayed beside me on my left, shoulder to shoulder. Not as close as Killian would get to me, but close. If it was Reno I would have pushed him away, but Asher seemed different. His heartbeat never wavered, nor did his breathing. The only exception was when he would hit a pot hole, or an uneven piece of pavement. His heart would give a jolt and his chest would tighten as the pain of his bad leg swept through him, but his face barely showed it. He limped on, uncomplaining and because he didn’t complain I slowed my pace for him.

  It was during what I knew would be our last trip around that Asher nodded towards a boarded up rancher house, somewhere south of my house and a few streets to the east.

  “I want to fix that place up.” He glanced towards it. “Live there. What’s your price?”

  I was surprised at that. Live here? Did I want him to live on my land?

  I was silent for a moment. I took a long deliberate drag and blew the smoke towards the rancher. Though it was away from my nature to say it, even to myself, I had enjoyed this guy’s company in the hours we had spent together. He had given me no sign of being hostile, or deceitful. And if he ended up being those things by some great chance, I would be able to see it before anyone else could. I could keep an eye on him, more than Leo and Greyson would be able to.

  If he created problems, he would be mine to dispose of. Easily, cleanly, and without hesitation. A public burning wouldn’t be needed for this one. His body was well-proportioned, muscular but lean. He would taste good.

  I made the decision there. I would accept him into my city. The best and worst possible outcomes both benefited me.

  “No price, just jobs. Me and Killian are preparing plants for winter; we also need sentries to make sure those parasites don’t trespass on my land. You help, you stay.”

  His face held no relief, but his heart gave him away. All he allowed himself was a small nod.

  It was another few minutes until he spoke again. “Killian is a good kid, he was kind to me even though he didn’t know me.”

  Indeed. Killian needed a bit more guidance in that department. I guess the ordeal with Perish hadn’t taught him much about strangers, but then again he had been surrounded by people in Doc’s clinic. He had probably felt safe, and Asher did give off a favourable impression. If I could tolerate him without trouble, he and Killian would probably be best friends.

  “There is no one in the world like Killian,” I replied simply. If I was with Reno, or even Greyson and Leo, I would have said more. How proud I was of his progress, how much he had grown and even let some of my feelings for him show, but he was not my friend and my personal life was my own. Not a topic up for conversation, or a tool to get to know me better.

  Asher nodded and lit another cigarette.

  “I wish I could have seen him cut off Perish’s head, had some of that blood spray on me.” Asher’s face adopted a dreamy look to it.

  I couldn’t hide my surprise at the suddenness of it.

  “I wish I could as well.” I watched his face.

  His pupils retracted slightly in his narrowed eyes. His voice lowered to an almost gravely growl. “Blood is surprisingly hot inside the body. One day I want to feel it gushing from an artery.”

  My surprise gave way to a feeling I had to kill the moment its essence appeared in my mind. If there was one thing I was missing from my innocent blond boy it was the thirst for murder, pain, torture.

  But if Killian had been like that, then I wouldn’t love him as I did. My fleeting attraction was based on my own vile nature, and a human need to find like-minded people, no matter how depraved. This man was no threat to Killian, only a threat to my gentle boyfriend’s futile attempts to make me a good person.

  “I’ve felt it,” I replied back, then from the darkened corners of my own nefarious mind I added, “I like to put my mouth over the wound. Feel the pressure fade as the heart dies… sense the life leaving them one pathetic pump at a time. Until it’s nothing but a dribbling, warm pulse.”

  I wanted to close my eyes to resurrect the feeling I loved so much. “Even when my stomach is full I’ll drink until it stops.”

  He took in a sharp intake of breath, I felt his chest shudder. When he spoke his voice was rasped.

  “Show me one day.”

  The corner of my mouth rose. “Yeah,” was all I said back.

  I walked him to the hotel and woke Deider up to get him a room. Deider was indeed present at the executions so he didn’t complain. Asher paid for the room in dusty dollar bills – the last three he had. He then bid me goodbye, carrying on with only the stained jacket on his back.

  I watched him until the spiral stairs took him from my view. When I left the hotel my mind relived the last several hours I had spent with him, the few words we had exchanged, but more the silence we’d had between us. I wondered what had been going through his mind, if by chance he was analyzing me as much as I was him. Though I had my hearing on my side, perhaps he had tricks he had picked up as well. It would be in the nature of a raticater; they did deal with merchants and mayors all across the wastes. Certainly he had picked up some tips on body language.

  Or maybe he didn’t care as much as I did. In reality I was the one in a place to be suspicious, he was the newcomer not me. But he had everything to lose, his life mostly, and he would do well to not trust me with it. Because though I found myself enjoying this new resident, I knew better than to trust people outside of my small core group (which had now been reduced to two instead of four). I would give him the benefit of the doubt, and until he gave me reason to kill him, he could live on my land.

  I took the long way home, and pulled a couple boards off of Asher’s new house and looked inside. It was dusty, with some trash on the floor and old radrat-ripped furniture, but the roof was strong. It had been lived in since the Fallocaust but I didn’t remember it being occupied in my lifetime.

  It would do. I’d help fix it up for him. I always enjoyed fixing up houses and it would give me a good excuse to be around him. I couldn’t follow him as I had done Killian, but I wanted to get close to him while I was figuring him out. Close enough to see his body language, and, more importantly, hear it. Perhaps if he was very devious he could put on a mask for one night, but eventually i
t would fall and his real self would show through. I didn’t suspect that was the case, but after everything Killian and I had been through, fuck taking chances.

  I needed some distraction anyway. What had happened between Greyson and I had been gnawing at me, though I’d been trying to numb it with drugs. Not thinking about it was my preferred way of dealing with it right now. Save it for another day, or let it fade in time with each line of bitter powder.

  Drugs may not heal my wounds, but they sanded the edges off well enough. Time would take care of the rest. That was how I dealt with most things.

  Though deep inside me it still burned, a slow and prolonged burn, like water on the edge of boiling.

  It was a humiliating thing to admit that his words had hurt me, that they had penetrated my armour. It was admitting that the mayor had power over me, and I had been fighting that since the day I saw the walls of Aras.

  Greyson and I had been through a lot. I thought saving Killian would make us closer but instead it seemed that he expected me to be someone I wasn’t. Emotional, compassionate and all that unsavoury bullshit.

  If he hadn’t changed even after twenty years of being with Leo, a few months with Killian or even three lifetimes wouldn’t change me. If he would accept me for who I was, we would get along better.

  But he was too stubborn. I knew from the looks he gave me that I had disappointed him more times than I could count. At least he was used to it.

  This time it wasn’t on complete purpose though. I thought I had done the town a great service, I just didn’t care about the morality of it, something Greyson and Leo seemed to feel strongly about. Morals? Peh, morals have a way of clouding even the most beneficial of things. Take your morals and give me hard, cruel justice. Do morals instill fear and obedience in the masses? Do morals make bottom-feeding lowlifes obedient? No, you needed fear, authority, and respect… and a fucking lit torch over converted gallows never hurt either.