Fallocaust (The Fallocaust Series Book 1)

by Quil Carter

  “Yes, but it’s usually under gurgling breaths.” Asher grinned. He walked over and kicked the tombstone down. “What I would have done to eat a chimera. I bet you Leo took a few bites out of him. It’s too bad he kept him in that bunker for so long.”

  I guess he must have overheard a few conversations when he was at Reno’s banging. Not too many people knew about the bunker.

  “It doesn’t matter.” I dug the shovel into the still loose dirt. It had not even been two months since we buried that greasy fuck. Time sure did fly. I had been with Killian for almost four months now. I’d have to ask him if we had an anniversary or anything. I never paid attention to that crap. “He’s dead. We outsmarted him, or Killian did at least.”

  “He plays innocent, but how innocent can you be to cut off your lover’s head?”

  That comment made my chest tighten a bit. “He wasn’t his lover.”

  “You really believe they never fucked?”

  I shook my head. I put the shovel down for a moment as I felt a wave of dizziness. The stuff was kicking in. “I was watching the cameras, and listening in when there was no camera. He was still my little –” I choked for a second and whirled around. I threw up behind Perish’s gravestone.

  I heard a scrape of dirt as Asher picked the shovel up. I retched again and felt the metal slam into the grave dirt, I wiped my mouth. “Your fucking molly is making me sick.”

  Asher laughed. I heard the scraping again, metal against dirt. It set my teeth on edge. “You’re about to get sicker, my friend.”

  I knew what he meant, there was another scrape and then I heard him get down on his knees. I looked over and spat the remaining vomit out of my mouth.

  The smell assaulted us. Perish might have smelled like mint and cherry blossoms at one point but now his stench felt like it was sodomizing my nostrils. I wrinkled my nose and took a huge step back as Asher picked up a long piece of rebar, and stuck it through the skull’s eye socket. Perish still smelled ripe, but the shallow grave mixed in with the alternating sun and rain had reduced, at least his head, to bone. I couldn’t see any flesh on his skull, just discolouring.

  “I have bleach at home, we’ll soak him.” Asher dropped the skull on the grave. He dropped down on his knees in front of it and poked it until it was facing him.

  “No, he’s fine being back in his grave, let the pathetic fool rot in peace.” I shook my head, nudging the skull with my foot. I had no respect for the dead, but I had respect for my boyfriend and he wouldn’t be happy.

  Then another wave of nausea hit. I turned back to the space behind the gravestone and was sick again.

  This time my mind didn’t recover properly. I felt myself slump backwards as the world swirled around me. I steadied myself on the tombstone, but my head kept dropping.

  Then I felt a sensation that I thought was new to me, but I felt de ja vu when I experienced it. A tugging on my brain, like something was pinching the very tip and pulling it.

  I tried to rise myself, but found my limbs buckling under my own weight.

  “Stand.” I heard a voice.

  I felt my legs strengthen. I mumbled a thanks and stood up straight. I rubbed my head, and swore. “You need to help me home… this drug isn’t… isn’t mixing well. Now. Before it–”

  I squinted and turned around. I saw something I didn’t think was real.

  Asher’s frame was glowing with the silvers of the moon above us. His mesh shirt was tight against his marble skin, his hand rapidly rubbing something between his legs. He was looking at the blood-streaked skull of Perish Dekker.

  I couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing for a moment. My brain refused to acknowledge such a strange sight. His pants were pulled down to his knees, he was kneeling on them. I could see his hand moving up and down his shaft.

  My eyes moved up to his face. He was staring at Perish, his pale eyes fixated, his jaw clenched over a cigarette that sprayed ash with every ragged inhale, auburn hair flickering back and forth.

  He was making noises. He stopped when he noticed me staring. “Bring me the lube.”

  I felt my hands dig through my cargo pants pocket. I pulled out the small travel size vial I had taken from my night stand. I don’t know how it got into my pockets.

  I went to hand it to him, but I turned and threw up again.

  I didn’t have any more food or drink to puke up though. I gagged and gagged until my vision became white strobe lights fucking up every sense in my body. I felt myself hit the cold ground and then inhaled the smell of rot, KY lubricant, and night air.

  I groaned and tried to remember where I was. I rolled onto my back and fumbled for my radio. I wanted to call Killian to come and get me, or Greyson… yeah, I think I might need my ass carried out of here and Greyson had the arms on him. He would know where I was. Like that time long ago when I rescued the kid.

  “Killian?” I groaned. I felt wet on my lips. I looked down to see a string of saliva running all the way down to the ashy floor. I spat, my nose was running too.

  I tried to push myself up. I wiped my forehead with my jacket sleeve. I was sweating badly.

  “I gave you too much now?” the voice said. He sounded unimpressed but very aloof. “Typical… but next time I’ll get the dose right, bona mea.”

  I felt his hands. I could feel the warmth of his hard cock as he helped me stand. “Get on your knees. Take off your pants.”

  My hands reached down. My mind wondered where Killian was. Who was this person I was with? He didn’t sound like anyone I knew.

  I fumbled for the radio, but I felt it being taken out of my hands. There was something on my crotch.

  “Sit down in front of Perish’s skull, bring yourself to climax, and cum in his face,” Asher commanded. “Then bring him home and show that pretty little boyfriend of yours.”

  I unzipped my pants and took my dick out. The last thing I heard was the stranger’s rapid breathing.

  I smashed face first into the floor of my basement, the bag I was carrying flying from my hand and sliding across the room.

  I heard rustling as I turned onto my back. I groaned and shielded my eyes as the lights came on. “Are you fucking kidding me? You were supposed to be patrolling.”

  “Shit, the wife’s pissed off,” I announced. I got to my feet and started dusting myself off.

  Killian was behind me. I could feel the seething energy radiating off of his body. He was dressed only in cloth pants, he looked like he had been woken up. “Reaver, do you know who I am?”

  I felt a glass of water at my lips, I had gotten it myself. Red, plastic cup. “Killian, I’m drunk not retarded.”

  I put the cup down and spat in the sink.

  “Just… go to bed, I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.” I heard him sigh behind me, then the sound of him grabbing a blanket.

  “You don’t have to be such a bitch all the time, Killian,” I said loudly. I threw the cup into the sink and wiped my mouth. “And if you’re going to get a hair up your ass every time I have a drink with a friend, we’re going to have a very horrible relationship.”

  My eyes scanned the room. I saw his eyes wide with shock, he was holding a pillow in his hand. “I’m a bitch now? You really just called me that? You know what? If you’re going to come waltzing home, slobbering drunk and insulting me. I’m leaving this basement.”

  I spat again, my mouth filled with saliva. “You have nowhere to fucking go. You step ten feet away from me and you have a fucking panic attack,” I snarled. I had no idea why but I felt anger flare up inside of me. My racing mind jumped from reason to reason to be mad at him. Everything in that moment made me angry at him. His snippy attitude, his accusations, even his voice and his weaknesses.

  “Oh yeah? Watch me!” Killian snapped. He grabbed his jacket and put his shoes on. “If you think this is okay, I don’t want to be around you. You’re not my Reaver when you come back from hanging out with him. You turn into an awful person who either wants to fuck me or yell at
me.”

  “I thought you were fucking going? Go back to your fucking maggot house, or why don’t you go cozy up to Reno?”

  I dodged a throw pillow as it was thrown towards me. I guess that’s why they call them throw pillows. The speed of it surprised my senses and I swayed to the left knocking myself into the kitchen cabinets. There was a crashing bang as a stack of dishes fell into the sink. I looked around dazed.

  “I need to call Killian…” I murmured, rubbing my head.

  “Genetics or not, you are a bad person.” I heard a whimper. “Maybe I will go to Reno’s, he listens to me and he understands me. He is a good person.”

  I let out aloud guffaw. I tried to take a step forward but stumbled backwards and slid down to my ass. I managed to raise my hand and I pointed it at him.

  “You think he’s so innocent? You think… he’s not as bad as me? That Greyson, or Leo aren’t as bad as me? I’m this big fucking horrible monster?” I snorted. “Reno rapes every legionary we kill, or the cute men anyway. I pin them down for him, do you know that? Do you know that Greyson once broke Leo’s jaw? Healthy, huh? But no, don’t go thinking poor Leo because Leo once got into a fight with Greyson and decided to fuck a very hot eighteen-year-old boy in the ass. Oh, who, by the way, Greyson hired me to kill one month later. Which I did, and I let Reno fuck him before I cut his head in half with a machete. Do you know how much an ass tenses while they’re dying? Ask Reno when you get there.”

  I rose to my feet. Killian was just staring at me, in utter shock and disbelief. Blond hair, tossed from being in bed, dressed in his jacket, over his cloth pants and now a light t-shirt. He looked like I had just smacked him, he just kept staring at me like I was Satan.

  In my drunken mind all I could think was: Fuck you, I am Satan.

  “Don’t come near me.” I heard him say, his voice was small and cracked. He shifted away towards the door.

  I stumbled to the bag and pulled out the skull. I put one arm around Killian’s rigid body, and as I did, I pushed the rotting skull into his chest and whispered into his ear.

  “And let’s not forget, what you’ve done, amor meus.” I felt my own hot breath against my lips. I opened my mouth and kissed the side of his neck. “Bona mea, ” I purred.

  I heard his heart lurch, like a thunderous boom in my brain. I felt him push me away, then heard a hysterical scream.

  The skull fell to the floor, and I saw him turn. I grabbed his wrist and clenched it, wrenching him back. He whirled around but instead of crying I saw a burning in his eyes, a fiery passion the colour of cracked sapphire. They pierced my chest like a javelin.

  Then a blow to my face knocked me right off my feet.

  I stumbled backwards into a wall. I opened my mouth but a clip to my jaw slammed it shut again. I felt my balance go and I fell off to the side, my head smacking against the linoleum.

  More rapid breathing… was the stranger back? Sobbing. A scream? Then a metallic slam, followed by another farther away.

  “Killian?” I groaned. I managed to hold my hand up to my face. I pulled it back and saw blood, bubbling blood, but no, it was dark now… the basement was dark, and I was alone.

  It was quiet.

  I woke up many times. Coughing mostly, or throwing up. I rolled around in my own vomit and, to top off my humiliating night of boozing, I even pissed my pants.

  I dragged my shameful ass to the bathroom and filled the tub with ice water. I washed my disgusting self and left my cargo pants to soak in their shame.

  “Killi?” I called. I leaned my head against the bathtub rim and closed my eyes. I felt like I had a fever. I sunk myself into the frigid, cloudy water and encapsulated myself. I felt my Geigerchip buzz faintly with its warning. I groaned and fell back asleep.

  The next time I woke up, I was gasping for air. My eyes snapped open and I raised my head out of the bathwater with choking gags. I coughed and hacked into the cloudy water and started shivering violently. I pulled myself out of the bathtub and went to my bedroom.

  The bed was empty. I cursed under my breath as I pulled a blanket over myself, feeling my eyes droop down. That’s right, we had a fight. I came home drunk, he’s at Reno’s? I’ll make it up to him.

  Fuck, I was tired. I tried to raise myself again but my movements were slow, uncoordinated, sloppy. I fell back into the bed, still shivering slightly. A moment later the cat came and started kneading my stomach with his paws.

  I fell back asleep.

  When I was finally able to get myself out of bed, I was shocked to see it was 6 pm. I had been asleep literally all day.

  I sat down with a groan on the couch and got out a generous bag of pain killers. I snorted a reasonable amount and finished off with a dip into my bag of coke to keep me awake.

  I held my jaw, it ached. I either fell or someone had punched me last night. I was gaming for fall, since I had been stumbling around everywhere from the looks of it. I needed to get Killian home and start kissing up to him. I was in the dog house with him and I deserved it.

  When the drugs were flowing beautifully to my veins I got my guns, my boots, and jacket on and headed out to the surface. I got towards the north gate.

  “Where’s your shadow?” It was Owen. He looked tired too. Everyone was taking extra shifts since we lost Mickey, and Matt was on sick leave.

  “Reno’s.” I tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. I even allowed myself a dismissive shoulder shrug. I walked to the gate, but it didn’t open.

  Owen stared down at me. I think he saw past my facade. “I’ve been here all night. No Reno, no Killian. Not a single soul has come or gone from this gate.”

  I felt my very first ping of anxiety, though it wasn’t that big. Killian was probably back in his old house. At least he was in Aras so he couldn’t get into that much trouble. Either way I would find him, and I would make it up to him. No matter what he made me do.

  “Alright. Well, radio me if you see him, or anyone, got it?” Even with my razor-sharp pangs of anxiety slowly slicing my insides, I kept my voice straight.

  Owen nodded then added, “You should put a bell on him.”

  “Yeah, yeah, funny man.” I waved him off and started walking back to my area of Aras.

  I passed Killian’s old house, already on my second quil, and took a quick look around. The anxiety inside me grew as I saw that it had been undisturbed.

  Okay, so he hadn’t stayed here… I started to speed walk towards Greyson and Leo’s. With every step I felt the nervous electricity inside me grow. If I didn’t keep a check on my brain I immediately started thinking back to the god damn factory. I knew this was different, that he was inside Aras but… fuck, this was all my fault.

  What had happened last night? I just remembered that we had fought but what it was about I didn’t know. Asher, I assumed, or maybe just coming home wasted. I really hoped I hadn’t tried to have drunk sex with him again. Jeez, what if he said no… what if it was some fucked up repeat of the rough sex I was giving him when Greyson pulled me off of him? Even the faint thought of it stirred my gut like a blender.

  I didn’t understand why I couldn’t remember anything. I never blacked out from being drunk, because I rarely ever drank that much. I didn’t remember taking more than two drinks when I was with Asher last night. Fuck, I didn’t even remember that… every time I tried to remember what had happened I just saw grey haze. My memories were just wisps and catches of images and sounds. Sometimes time pieced together more of the memories but for the most part they were completely gone.

  That was it, no more drinking. I made that promise to myself. I’d tell Killian as soon as I saw him. I wasn’t going to lose control of myself like that anymore. It wasn’t like me to let it get this far anyway. I wouldn’t make this fucking mistake again. No matter what it did to my friendship with Asher.

  My drinking with Asher had gotten a bit out of control. I think I was just having too much fun with him, and drugs and drinking had always enhanced it, but now…
it was causing too many problems. If I wanted to get Killian to calm down and start feeling better about Asher I couldn’t go on these drinking binges anymore.

  I had been enjoying the raticater too much. He was different kind of friend, different than all wasters I had met, and I had taken to him because of it. There was an aura about that raticater that seemed to attract me to him, like he was a magnet or something. I didn’t know why, I just liked having him around. I had a good time.

  I opened the door and walked into Greyson and Leo’s living room.

  “Oh, for fuck sakes!” I turned around and walked out, the image of what I saw forever burned into my head. It took its place with dozens of other similar images, mostly the same except they slowly got older.

  Well, at least they had made up fully.

  “Jesus fuck, how many times do you have to walk in on us before you fucking learn to knock!?” Greyson hollered. Leo was laughing.

  “I’m assuming either Killian isn’t here, or I’m being left out of something,” I said, my stomach still feeling queasy. I had done Killian on that couch two months ago, I think in the same position too.

  “You don’t know where Killian is?” I heard pants being zipped up so I turned back around. At least they didn’t insist on finishing first.

  “I got drunk and I’m assuming we fought because he wasn’t there when I woke up,” I said. I quickly scanned the house for any sign that they might have had guests.

  “Drunk? You seem sober now.” Leo looked at me, confused.

  I shifted my weight. “This was last night. I only got out of bed an hour ago.”

  Leo’s brow knitted. He walked over and put his hand on my forehead. I cringed, not knowing where that hand had been. “But you’ve never slept more than four hours, even when you’ve been drinking.” He kept his hand on my head. “You have a fever alright. It’s too late to be the raver bites…”

  “Asher gave me some MDMA last night. I barely fucking took a bump and it screwed me up. I think it made me sleepy mixed in with the liquor.” I shrugged. “Either way I’m giving up my life of drinking… again. If you two see Killian can you radio me? If you can stop fucking on the couch long enough to grab a radio that is.”