The Bone Puppets: A Hard SciFi Zombie Soldier Story

by Doug McGovern

  Elias felt a deep sickness in his guts. Whether he wanted to know or not, there would be no escape now. He slipped over the side and was plunged into unadulterated darkness.

  *****

  Chapter 19

  Elias was now neither dead nor alive but somewhere in between the possible states of human material. Yet Elias was fairly certain that he wasn’t like one of the Puppets in this universal extension of himself.

  He opened his eyes. He was lying flat on his back in a place of living grass.

  Never before had he breathed air so clean or seen this much greenery. In this moment, one more basic color entered his once ash and asphalt scheme. He sat up, heart leaping to his throat.

  “Welcome, to the dimension between dimensions.” A calm voice entered Elias’s thoughts with healing virtue. He shuddered and looked up.

  “Is this Paradise?” Elias felt dazed. He tried to stand but he was too weak.

  The man standing over him laughed.

  “No.” He shook his head, eyes glittering the strange brightness of this visionary dimension.

  “Then where?” Elias sat up and looked around. He heard the call of doves and toucans out among the foliage. Only a moment ago, he had been forsaken to a wilderness of emptiness. Now he was in a place that to his world-weary eyes looked an awful lot like Utopia.

  “A fragment of the past, a piece of the present and a reflection of tomorrow. That is the trajectory of this dimension. This is the conscious world of suspended persons. Some would call it a comatose Purgatory. Technically, it’s the metaphysical topography of my soul.” The mysterious man eased himself to his knees and crawled to sitting beside Elias.

  “Your soul? Who…who are you?” Elias studied the regal figure. He sat with his arms folded in his lap. His tall and slender frame that boasted the absolute perfection of bone structure…He was put off an air that let Elias know quickly he was ancient, but nonetheless human. Elias tried to guess his nationality, but he bore no real resemblance to any of the recognizable races on modern earth. His physique was the specimen of human life, though. According to Elias’s psychopathic father that would mean that he had perfect genes that were not diluted by the genetic problems of other blood lines.

  “You are right when you guess it…I was first. I was first for many things. One of the first to be born. The first of all to be slain…” He turned to look at Elias with a compassionate smile.

  “I am Able the First-Slain. My brother was Cain, the Lord of Perdition, Father of Monsters…Author of Sedition…” Abel paused, looking off at the dream-horizon.

  The two men silently allowed the green and blue light of this water-washed and living place to descend on them. For a moment, there was raptured silence. They breathed and were alive and content with everything. For a moment, they were only men and the world was whole.

  “I don’t envy you…What you have to do. What it will cost.” Abel bowed his head, let it rest against his knees.”

  “Yeah. But someone has to do it, right?” Elias looked up into the green. Watched the trees dancing. Away to the south where the wind was rising, he saw healthy elephants just as nature had meant for them to be. People walked among them. Carrying a basket of fruit was Kaluwa, whole and young again, alive and well. Elias’s breath was taken up in the clean air and wrapped in a halo about his head. He smiled.

  “I think this is beauty worth losing so someone can keep it.” Elias nodded, satisfied.

  Abel nodded, grunting his agreement.

  “I will now tell you the source of divine power. It comes from divine making. No matter what the stories might say, the sciences and for all they know…Mankind was born from Adam, made from his clay flesh. You and I alike are his sons, though he was my father first…” Abel smiled and studied Elias diligently.

  “Your genes have always been a subject of great pain for you, haven’t they? Fear not. Your suffering was not in vain. I know why you have come. The Final Prophet sent you to reap the last of his power before he passed from the face for good. Wonderful, we shall grant him his final wish. If you’re up for it, I will infuse your blood with some of mine. That will grant you the power of supreme-being,” said Abel.

  “The touch of divinity that made me,” he continued, “for I was one of the first born will grace you and the heavens will seal you. Then you will have power to triumph over the altering magic and science they use to corrupt you. You will be unconquerable.” Abel studied Elias with narrowed eyes. He was sizing him up, trying to prove whether this young one was worthy or not.

  “Ezekiel told me that I would require the power of the Kilimanjaro Sacrament before I could receive the divine power,” said Elias. “Even with him granting it to me, the light to fight chaos would certain follow some rules. A prayer has to be said or something has to be done ritualistically first, doesn’t it?” Elias shifted on his feet. Confusion had plagued him down every path of this adventure. He was ready for it to be over now.

  “No, there is no ritual. There is no prayer or song, young master. I am the Kilimanjaro Sacrament.” Abel paused a brow raised. Elias stared at him, dumbfounded. Abel nodded and held up a finger.

  “My brother believed that sacrificing my blood on his Altar, one he built at top Mt. Kilimanjaro, would provoke God. He thought that if he could draw God out to wrath, to war…That he could use the power of darkness, the power of black arts and broken sciences. His greatest hope was that he would be able to kill God and replace him in the heavens as the supreme one.” Abel paused. He fought with a chain around his neck. At last, he plucked it free. Bloody nails dangled from the end of the cord.

  “What my brother failed to realize was that God is an alchemist by his own nature,” said Abel. “He turns the dead into revenants, darkness into light, mourning into song. He sends out his substitution and bound the power of his spirit to the mountain sacrifice. I was delivered under the promise of a sacrifice that would always save me whenever I called out for it. This token is what I call the God’s Ransom. If you possess it, you will be rooted and grounded in your faith of your power. With the great enhancement of resurrected blood, with the power of God’s substitutions via his own sacrifice to my DNA and your DNA, you can take back the world from the demented hands of its successors.” Abel pushed cords and nail token into Elias’s palm. Elias cringed allowing what he’d been told to sink in for him.

  Abel noticed his reluctance and put up a hand.

  “It will be more than just another enhancement too, young master, make no mistake. I can send you back into their world. With the neurological stimulation of my hemoglobin, you’ll be able to psychologically control the Puppets yourself.” Abel looked away from him, dark green eyes brooding in thought. The wind lifted his dark hair above his face, revealing the spot where Cain had crushed his skull with a hammer a long time ago.

  “I think I can guess at the price I will pay.” Elias swallowed. Abel looked back at him, smile faint but still present.

  “The price is to become like me. Trapped within the fabric of space and time. You will never die because technically you will be already dead. So long as you continue, so will the Puppets at your command. You can bring balance to their tormented bones. You could save the world.” Abel’s face sank to his hand. Elias nodded.

  “But I will unravel like the fabric of your own DNA. I’ll lose myself in the process and my mind will become something sub-human.” Elias looked up at a circle of flamingoes flocking above him. He allowed himself to fixate on that for a moment and crowd out the pressure of all his other thoughts. Abel gave him his moment, weighing what he’d have to say next.

  “Honestly, young master, I can’t give you the full-scale forecast of the price you have to pay for this. It’s beyond astronomical and will destroy you down to the sub-atomic portions.” Abel paused, raising an eyebrow. “Does your little brother really mean that much to you?”

  Abel was rapid-fire with his questions. Elias had not been prepared for that question. It knocked him off his
saddle. For a moment, he could only sit reeling.

  The question hung in the rarified air for longer than Elias was comfortable to admit. He weighed his conscious. Why did he waste so much time on this? He knew the answer.

  “I have never understood my purpose in this world. Life was always a blur and I wondered why I had to be selected to endure it. But now I know that the meaning of life is love. The love of family was never one I was just given. I have to fight for it and take it. Which is what I’m going to do, with your help. Don’t get me wrong. I know there’s no going back.” Elias stood up.

  “I don’t want to go back. This will break me but it will give me a reason.” He smiled and stretched out his arms.

  Abel nodded and stood up.

  He reached to his belt and pulled out a small chemical beaker. Swallowing back subconscious sickness, he reached his other hand and produce a straight razor.

  Elias cringed. Abel took the razor and made a tiny incision in his murder wound. Blood began to rapidly flow from it. He groaned, eyes fluttering and let it drain into the beaker until it was done.

  Nodding, satisfied, he reached into his belt again and pulled up a tiny glass medicine dropper that was hallway full of an amber liquid.

  “This poison is from a hybrid snake that once lived on the plains of Africa. By introducing the nullifying effects of this serum into the Insular Cortex of the human brain, my brother was able to ‘lock’ the animation of human neurological function,” said Abel. “I could give you the deep dissertation on how the process works, but I’ll make the breakdown a bit gentler to save you some time.” He laughed. Elias’s eyes zeroed in on the toxin, watching the pop-rock fizzing action it made when Abel dripped a few droplets of it into the beaker of his blood.

  “Basically, this poison is a sort of biological isopropyl conductive agent. It’s similar to propane but less harmful in that your skin tissue can absorb it through proteins in its makeup, discard the harmful byproduct through natural tissue shedding and indirectly fold it into the nucleus of hemoglobin cells located in the dermis. It then converts into fossil fuels based on the process of human cellular decomposition.” Abel paused, looking at his feet. The next part would be a hard bill of goods to sell.

  “Within the Insular Cortex, this poison will be ‘detonated’ by surviving neuro-activity and will send electronic spurts through the brain which will keep the corpse self-aware in a sort of ellipsis of the sense and able to perform basic motor function. In summary, the leftover electricity found in corpses near the time of death is recirculated in a Bone Puppet’s body by the drug and conserved like a car’s alternator works, and this propane agent works sort of like pistons to keep the ‘engine’ running even without organs and what not.” Abel flashed a sheepish smile at Elias’s look of disgust.

  “Wait a minute, before you are gravely unsettled. This has never been tried on someone like you before.” Abel smiled, flinching as the beaker hissed from the savage reaction taking place in it.

  “Like me? What does that mean?” Elias shifted from one foot to the other.

  “Well, first of all, we have your background. As you passed through the dimensions, I could see your life reflected off of electron frequency that regulates physics. I saw an image of your past, your present and possible outcomes for your future. In your distant past, you were tortured via lab experiments which gave your body an immunity of sorts to this poison. Then, recently, you were dying and my brother used an electromagnetic pulse to reverse the fissures in your cell tissue and vacuum close your wounds.” Abel tilted his head to the side, amused by Elias’s confusion. He raised a hand and laughed.

  “Forgive me. The ancient world was far more technically advanced than your modern world. Much of intelligence was lost after the Great Flood, which is why Humanity has basically reverted back to its elementary and middle grades of scientific education.” Abel shrugged.

  “Alright then, Wizard,” said Elias glumly. “You’re saying that all the crap the freaks did to me will make my body resists some of the nasty side-effects of this stuff?” Elias crossed his fingers behind his back.

  “That’s what I’m hoping at any rate. I’m pretty convinced it won’t kill you and make you an automaton like them. Here’s hoping I’m right.” Abel reached a syringe and stuck it into the beaker, drawing up a dosage of the fizzing liquid. Elias felt his stomach doing acrobatics within him. He distracted himself by wondering how Abel had modern-looking medical supplies in a world like this one.

  Abel let the beaker shatter on the ground. A vapor cloud shot up that made them both a little dizzy to breathe in.

  “You ready?” Abel was panting. Elias realized he was just as nervous as he was.

  “Get it over with, ‘kay?” Elias closed his eyes. He had been hoping for something like this forever. For power to come along that would make him immune to the abuses of this world, that would make him able to conquer the dragons that darkened his uncertain horizon. How fickle the human heart was! Now that the chance for great power had come, Elias wasn’t certain if he wanted it. He felt too inadequate. Too unread. Giving Abel the final call would mean that he couldn’t chicken out of it.

  Abel nodded and reached. A quick pinching jab let Elias know that the needle had gone into his heart.

  He groaned. There was no pain but the feeling was pretty uncomfortable. He was suddenly weak and foam came up his lips.

  The Purgatory world began to burn away around him. Abel smiled.

  “Good luck, Elias.”

  Elias emerged from the water, foaming at the mouth, shaking his head wildly. A slight tingling in his hands and arm veins told him something subtle had changed in his body. What he didn’t know yet.

  Once again, Elias was surrounded by darkness. This time he was certain he felt another presence here. He wasn’t alone, was he?

  *****

  Chapter 20

  “I see that you have met my brother.”

  A voice that trembled with the weight of its own great power shook the walls of palpable darkness.

  “So the answer to the riddle wasn’t all that hard to discover, after all,” said Elias, his voice steady. “I’m actually a tiny bit disappointed, Cain. I expected finding you and your power would be more of a challenge.” Elias was empowered by this darkness. He felt swallowed by it, secure. His new power was slowly rising in him, taking his conscious mind over, suppressing his dormant fears.

  Just how far does her treachery actually run?

  Elias thrashed as the intrusive thought entered his subconscious mind. He could hear engines emerging from the darkness behind him. Soon he’d have the answer to Yim’s unyielding question whether he wanted it or not. The Witchdoctor was prowling through his mind, looking through answers of his own. As their minds became one, Elias would see through the window of his thoughts and know his dark craft.

  Elias wondered then if the secrets of the Hollow weren’t actually a punishment to know. If Meredith Yim, in her egotistical vengeance-seeking had made all sorts of double-deals with the savage mumbo-science creatures of this Bone-World, then she was probably cursed. Somehow she was cursed. Elias would be an idiot not to believe that was, at least, a possibility given the world he was plunged into.

  There was a yawning sound as the Darkness before him opened parting in a pair of sticky black waves. Fire shot in spouts from the crevice carved in the darkness. Fire along with spouts of pure water, rolled away, revealing a distant dream landscape.

  Elias jumped when he felt something rattle his spin and take him by the back of his belt, giving him a mighty shake as it coiled him and slithered all across his wasted frame. His first thought had been that he was being climbed by a large snake.

  “Ah, okay, I get it. You’re a very feelsy kind of guy when it comes to getting-to-know-me chats. I respect that, but I’m ready for a bit more meaningful conversation. What about you? Ready to talk terms?” Elias smiled and swallowed to stabilize his nerves.

  “You are a foolish person t
o come here and to trust the wisdom of eldritch creatures. Now you are a sorry fool, for you have followed said advice and acquired divine power. The same sacred power that has rest under my watchful eyes for centuries. Dormant, never to be utilized for its grave dangerousness…” The voice wasn’t one he recognized. It was old and weathered with a trace of an African accent.

  “Mm, well, I’m the sort of guy that likes to walk on the wild end of things a little. So sue me if I got too close to your precious little shrine. What’s it to you, anyway? How much surveillance do you really require for it anyway, eh? It’s not like you have any real use for it. I thought you were dead?” Elias’s own question sounded completely idiotic to him. A master of science-eclipsing dark arts, who was responsible for a world where walking death was the new normal? Shouldn’t be too hard for him to find a way to emerge from his own grave.

  “Death is a relative term these days, Elias. You’re well aware of this, I think.” The Witchdoctor reveled in silence for a moment at Elias’s organic terror. How did the arcane warlock know his name?

  “Interesting. We agree on something. That’s good,” said Elias. “I suppose that means we’re off to a good start, then? Well, great, let’s cut the chatter and begin! I’m going to interview you now. Not too many questions and no hard ones. Simple, straight up answer. How does your dark power work? Why has my world been completely derailed by the merge of science and magic? Best question of all, and I’m really challenging you with this one as I hold you the most accountable. What am I supposed to do about it?” Elias’s patience with eldritch creatures was running out.

  “I had the impression that you’d be irreverent to a fault. Still, I can’t help but be a tad disappointed. That’s no way to talk to your elders.” The Witchdoctor’s indignant sniff sent a rustling through the other end of the mic.