by James Somers
Andrea planted a crushing roundhouse kick on the walker’s jaw, spinning the beast out of her way as she ran through the door. She didn’t have the time or energy to kill them all. Stealth would be the only way she would survive the night and escape Tarris alive.
Two hours later, Andrea found herself finally close to the tunnel entrance where Felonius and the others would have, by now, made their escape beneath the wall. Her trek through the streets of Tarris had been overly eventful. Already her clothes were torn and stained with a great deal of blood. Fortunately, hardly any of it was hers.
She had ascended to the rooftops as much as possible which gave her a much needed reprieve. Death walkers tended not to take to the high ground unless they found easy prey waiting. Certainly, Andrea had not encountered any roaming around. And by the time she had been spotted and pursued, they found her already long gone.
However, fatigue had overtaken her long ago. Tarris was a large city, and she had been forced multiple times to take a longer way around in order to avoid mass groups of death walkers on the hunt, or engaged in fighting with the High Guard wraith dancers.
As much as she might have liked to fight alongside her former sisters against these creatures, they would only have killed her once they found out her identity. She wasn’t even sure if the High Guard would survive the night. But she knew she did not want to return to the days of having to kill wraith dancers sent to assassinate her.
Andrea stood gasping for air upon the long stone bridge spanning the Hood River which bisected Tarris and provided life to the city. She had run for miles now, stopping only briefly at times to rest. The death walkers were everywhere. Already she doubted that any of the citizens of Tarris had managed to survive apart from the High Guard.
She had found five walkers on the bridge when she arrived. A group of wraith dancers had been killed recently and they were still enjoying the bodies. She crept upon them and managed to kill them all quickly. Examining the wraith dancers, she had found them to be one Elder Mother with four apprentices. No wonder the walkers had been able to kill them so easily. Two of the girls were only adolescents.
In the distance, on both sides of the river, she saw more of the horrible creatures roaming; some running here and there, others feasting upon their kills. They all seemed perfectly content in their new condition. Devils let out to play in human flesh, she thought.
Andrea located the sewage grate she was looking for on the other side of the Hood. There, along the paved waterfront, the grate system took in any overflow of water from the Hood, diverting it through aqueducts to specially cut channels where the water was collected and used for irrigation purposes on the farms beyond the wall.
She had no choice but to try and get to the other side of the bridge. If she jumped into the river, it would sweep her away. If she survived at all, Andrea would not possibly get to the other side before the current dashed her against the heavy bars that ran down from the perimeter wall where they were embedded in the rock of the river bed.
Andrea crept low along the bridge wall, using the darkness to her advantage. For whatever reason, Moloch had allowed chaos to reign within his city. The death walkers had no plan, no general commanding them that she could tell. Yet, she knew that the dragon had not invested these faithful worshippers with demons for no reason. Something big was about to happen.
When she reached the end of the bridge, Andrea found many death walkers scattered between where she was and the particular drainage grate she had to access. The distance was too great to use only the Shadow Walk gift. Trying to go so far would drain her to the point of fainting. That was the last thing to do with hungry, crazed death walkers roaming around.
Still, she might get far enough to employ another gift she had learned from a fellow High Guard wraith dancer just prior to the incident in the northeast that ended her career. She had never had the chance to actually employ it in battle, and had practiced it very little. She cursed her laziness now that she needed every skill she could manage.
However, there was nothing for it. She had to take the chance. Andrea waited until she felt the delay would lead to her discovery then she employed the Shadow Walk. Time stood nearly still for her as she pushed herself to the limits of her waning strength.
She wound her way through sights too horrifying to describe. There were many bodies of people not taken in Moloch’s transformation. Andrea forced herself not to be distracted by the carnage. The din caused by their chaos bled into an alarming, disjointed smattering of sounds that came and went as she waded through them like ripples on the surface of a pond.
As her strength gave out, Andrea returned to real time. Immediately she called for the gift of Glamour to hide her true appearance. At best she would not only appear to be invisible, but would also conceal the movement of the grate. Still, she wasn’t entirely sure that death walkers would be fooled by such an illusion. The fact that they were demonic in nature did not escape her. Nevertheless, it was this, or nothing.
Her form blinked into existence then faded like a vapor dispersed by the wind. The Glamour took less strength to maintain, but following the Shadow Walk had her ears ringing and her vision swimming. If she didn’t get out of sight quickly, she would lose consciousness and be killed.
Tears rolled down her cheeks simply from the strain. Pressure grew within her chest as her heart sped up and her muscles strained. The ache building all over her body made Andrea want to scream. Finally, she came to the appropriate drainage grate. Before she reached for it, Andrea whipped her bloody sword around, hurling it back toward the stone bridge. In all of these things, the darkness helped. But it would not hide the sound.
The sword spun through the air, passing over the Hood River then the bridge wall. As it came down with a crash against the stones, Andrea lifted the heavy iron grate. The sword bounced around on the bridge, instantly drawing the attention of every nearby death walker. While they remained distracted, Andrea let go of the Glamour and dropped through the drainage pipe into the aqueduct below. The heavy grate fell back into place behind her with a metallic clang. However, when the walkers looked for the source they saw nothing out of place, or moving in the dark.
Andrea gasped for air, knee deep in gently flowing water. She crawled far enough away from the grate to escape the moonlight filtering through then collapsed against the curving wall of the aqueduct where exhaustion claimed her.
MARCHING
It was the stamping a great deal of feet that roused Andrea from her slumber within the aqueduct. Cold water still flowed over her as she lay in the drainage tunnel. Her muscles ached terribly with cold and fatigue, but she knew she had already waited too long. Sunlight, at least early morning sunlight, shone through the iron grate not far from where she lay.
Andrea traveled further down the pipe knowing already where another grate would be. When she found the one she remembered, it offered her a view of the street before the northern gate. Peering out through the grate, Andrea found something she had never seen before; had never imagined possible.
For nearly a mile, stretching away from the gate that now stood open, a double line of death walkers marched together to an unheard cadence. They ranged throughout all ages she could have imagined; even toddler size children which horrified her even more. Every one of them, without exception, was smeared heavily with dried blood.
Most noticeable were their faces. They looked like they had pressed their faces into red clay, wallowing in it just for fun. Andrea knew the truth of it though. They had spent the day feeding. Now, something of the dragon’s reasoning became clearer.
The population had clearly been changed by Moloch for a purpose. However, the chaos of the last two nights had hindered her discernment. Now, she saw a clearly organized army being deployed. The last two nights had fed them well on those citizens who did not have their faith in the dragons. They were ready for whatever grim tasks their serpentine masters had devised for them.
Andrea backed away from the
storm drain then followed the conduit further, around several twists and turns in the process, until she found the place she wanted. Here, a vent in the drain system allowed Andrea to see outside of the city wall near the northern corner. As she had suspected, the army of death walkers maintained their march in a northerly direction; none of them deviating. Their course would take them toward the Urtah Mountains. None of that made any sense, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. Felonius and the others would likely have exited the tunnels by now on the eastern side of the city.
The thought occurred to Andrea to go back into the city after the death walkers left it. Certainly, it was the kind of thing Felonius might consider; take over and establish himself. But Tarris was a dead city now, the population killed, or worse; putrefying carcasses that would fill the city with pestilence in days.
Andrea wiped a tear straying down her cheek. She had no choice but to face the facts. Tarris was gone. Her homeland had been destroyed.
Felonius had barked orders from the time his group of criminal associates left his lair headed for his warehouse. They had all supposed that the death walkers would likely not find his secret door and follow them, but no one really wanted to take the chance. So, when their group arrived at the warehouse filled with black market goods, as well as nearly two hundred people brought by the crime lords, they did not tarry. They assumed the death walkers would eventually find them at some point no matter what.
All the while they were gathering together their employees of various trades and abilities and their families, Felonius kept up a constant tirade about his imposition and the need for all parties involved to pay tribute at the earliest opportunity. Eyes were rolled, and quips were kept to a minimum. No one intended to lose their one means of escape when it was so close at hand and the danger so prevalent.
Felonius then led them through a series of catacombs. Eventually these tunnels then emptied out into the aqueduct system already in place when Tarris was constructed. It was one of the only surviving relics from the old world to be incorporated into the patron city of Moloch. However, since it still functioned properly, the builders had decided not to fix something that wasn’t broken.
Once their long parade of escapees was in the aqueduct system, the journey beneath the wall happened very quickly. By twilight, when the mountains still hid the eastern rising of the sun, they came out nearly a mile outside of the city’s perimeter wall. A caravan of small carts, pack animals and people then proceeded east a good ways before stopping to camp for a few hours.
When day broke fully, Felonius appeared from the tent his servants had erected for him. His belly was full, and he wore a broad smile upon his chubby face. He had left his small harem within, still sleeping. He came upon most of the crime lords around several small fires where their servants were busy fanning away the columns of smoke with the hope of dispersing the most obvious sign of their presence. Still, no one was quite sure if a city full of death walkers would even notice such a thing, or care.
“Well,” Felonius said as he strode up to Zela at her fire. “I suppose now would be an excellent time for us to settle up the debts you all owe to me.”
Zela only looked at him.
Stanchion, however, offered him a loud, but short burst of laughter. He stood and walked up to Felonius. “And what debt would that be, my fat friend?”
Felonius turned on him, his face bright red with anger. “I got you and your people out of the city as promised, Stanchion. Don’t make me use force to get the gold you owe me.”
From behind, still seated at her fire, Zela interrupted. “And what force would you use, Felonius?” she asked calmly.
“That’s right,” Stanchion added. “In your haste to save your own skin, you left your wraith dancer behind in the city. Surely, she managed to kill a few of the creatures while we escaped, but she wouldn’t have lasted long against all of those death walkers.”
Felonius’s face grew pale as he considered the matter. He had all but forgotten Andrea during his rush to flee Tarris last night. Only now, did the reality of his situation begin to finally dawn upon him. “Zela,” he pleaded, “Surely you would not go back on your word. I trusted you.”
Behind Felonius, Stanchion raised his pistol and cocked the hammer back. He grinned as he took a bite from the chicken leg he had been eating.
“I suppose,” Zela mused, “there truly is no honor among thieves.”
“Perhaps, it is you that should pay us, Felonius,” Stanchion said. Others began to encircle them now. Most were laughing at the fat man.
“My trigger finger is growing heavy,” Stanchion added. “If you place enough gold in my other hand, it might outweigh my urge to put a bullet in your brain.”
Felonius tried to keep his dignity despite the situation. “I suppose I could simply release the debt this time,” he said. “After all, we’ve been associates for many years. It’s the least I can do for my good friends.”
“Did you hear that, Zela?” Stanchion asked. “Felonius has decided to forgive our debt and save our lives. It’s the least he can do.” Stanchion grabbed a handful of Felonius’s robe under his double chin, pointing the gun into the fat man’s face now.
“The least you can do is to fill our pockets from your coffers!”
Felonius was sweating profusely now. He noted that none of his other servants had come to his aid in this matter. Examining the faces of those surrounding him, he was unable to find even one of his people close at hand. He felt truly alone for the first time in many, many years.
Then gasps of surprise and awe came from one direction in the crowd. The people parted before an approaching figure. At first, Felonius thought that a lone death walker had come to attack them. However, as the woman drew closer, walking down the hill toward their encampment, he realized it was none other than his own bodyguard, Andrea.
Stanchion’s grip on Felonius slackened a bit as the man gazed at Andrea. She was covered in dried blood, though by her steady gait it was apparently not her own. How she had managed to survive was anybody’s guess. Still, the tables had definitely turned back in Felonius’s favor.
“Release me!” Felonius demanded.
Stanchion tightened his grip again, pressing the barrel of the pistol against the fat man’s cheek. “Not yet,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Do as he says,” Andrea said. Her tone was not exactly menacing, despite her frightening appearance. Still, no one was willing to stand anywhere near her. She gazed directly at Stanchion in a way that told him she was in complete control; that she could end his life at any moment she chose.
Stanchion got the message quickly. He had seen too much of her deadly skill last night when Corpus made the last mistake he would ever make. Andrea had managed to kill all three in a moment, before anyone else even knew what was happening. Corpus’s expression of utter shock as he lay dead across the table rushed back into Stanchion’s memory. He noticed that the woman did not have any weapons in hand. But she was a wraith dancer, and she had lived through the night despite being attacked by many death walkers.
Stanchion lifted the pistol away from Felonius’s face, replaced the hammer delicately then dropped the weapon on the ground and backed away. Felonius stretched a wide smile across his face again. “Now, about my gold, Stanchion,” he began.
Andrea interrupted him; something she had never done. “There is no time, Felonius,” she said. “The death walkers have organized into an army. They are marching out of the city as we speak.”
“But death walkers have no organization,” Felonius argued. “They are mindless animals!”
“Perhaps they were before,” Andrea argued back. “Now they march as one. We must get as far away from this place as possible!”
Felonius started to argue back, but Andrea simply walked past him. He didn’t know what to make of it. She had never acted this way. He almost disciplined her right there in front of everyone then thought better of it. She was the only one willing to protect him
at the moment. He needed her. “Alright, Andrea, we’ll go, but...wait. Where are you going?”
She pointed toward the valley stretching out below them. “Toward that column of smoke,” she said simply.
“But why?” Felonius pleaded. The smoke was trailing somehow, like a fire carried on a wagon they could not yet see.
She paused, turning only long enough to answer him. “That will be our way of escape.”
ROBBERY
I prepared several slices of bacon for myself now that Tobias had a handful. My clothes had proven too soiled to bother with any attempt at washing them. So, after rummaging through the soldiers’ belongings, Tobias and I had been able to cobble together new outfits for ourselves. I changed while he turned his back, promising not to peek. Then I did the same while he changed his clothing.
We outfitted ourselves with various weapons taken from those in the boxcar; mainly pistols for Tobias, though I did take one myself, and some knives and a very nice sword for me. We spent the majority of the trip talking of Tobias’s family, his life in his former village and his brief time with Ezekiah.
Tobias was cautious about mentioning the prophet; I could tell. However, I assured him that I would be glad to hear as much about the man as he was able to tell. In turn, I regaled Tobias with my brief upbringing among my family up to the point when I was taken into the ranks of Belial’s priestesses and trained as a wraith dancer. I spared him many of the details about killings that I had been sent to carry out for the dragons, but did try to explain why the hold of their religion was so strong for us.
To my surprise, he understood this completely. It had also been his upbringing to worship the dragons, though his time with his father, after his conversion, and his time with Ezekiah had changed his mind.
“Has your mind been changed?” he asked.
It took me a moment to reply. Then I nodded to him. “Ezekiah was very persuasive, but it was actually Belial himself who made up my mind.”
