by R. B. Tetro
That was a long time ago, and he’d been a completely different person…then. He had to change to survive in the wild, and change he did. The first thing that he changed was his diet. He was one of the first to figure out that there were a lot more humans to hunt then there was wild game. It seemed natural enough after drinking the blood of the men who killed his family.
He’d started out with the haunch of a wandering scavenger, cooking it slowly, over a fire while basting it in butter. It took some getting used to. He’d thrown up a little at first, but after a few months he actually acquired a taste for human flesh and began to enjoy killing them.
It turns out Quincy was a born leader. It seemed only natural that people were drawn to him and followed him. He was both ruthless and merciless. Stacks of dead humans piled up as his tribe of followers grew stronger. But eating humans came at a price. Besides their eyes turning blood-colored, insanity ran rampant through their ranks until it was a common condition. Their offspring were born crazy and more ravenous than their parents.
Quincy no longer existed and General Blood was born. If his fellow tribe members had known that Quincy was in charge of an accountant firm in his previous life, they probably wouldn’t have taken him very seriously. So he told them he’d run security for a big corporation. They’d bought it after seeing him dismember several humans and serve them for dinner.
Everything was finally falling into place. Blood’s dreams of building his own kingdom at the Cavern of the Light were finally coming true. He ordered his guards to stay back and let him be. It wasn’t like he needed an escort. He was the most feared man in the territory, except for Magnus, and that man wasn’t really human anymore, so he didn’t count.
Blood crested the ridgeline and followed his scout’s trail to the overlook the scout had described to him. He stood with the inky darkness wrapped around him like a favorite coat. Below him a small band of civilized survivors were trying, without much success, to build a fire against the blustery night’s chilly embrace.
Blood chuckled as the biggest of them pushed his way to the front. The rest of the group left him alone and started to set up their tents and settle in. There was very little cover and they had nowhere to run. Blood smiled and laughed. That was just the way he liked it. Human flesh was much gamier when it was chased for any length of time. He started to pick his way down toward the unsuspecting group, stopping less than one hundred feet away from them in the darkness.
Lifting his chin, he picked up their scents mixed together in the chilly breeze. Blood’s stomach grumbled and he pulled out his sword, reveling in the thrill of the kill.
“James, you and Andy have first watch… me and Jim will spell you,” the pushy man gave orders. Two of the men looked at each other and raised their eyebrows.
“Why don’t you take the first watch,” one of the men suggested. The big guy looked surprised. He grabbed the man, jerking him to his feet, head-butting him several times before letting his limp body crumble to the ground.
“Is there anybody else that has anything to say about me being in charge,” he challenged.
The small group of about twenty looked at each other and waited for each other to say something. The man on the ground started groaning and tried to sit up. Blood could smell the fresh blood coming from his busted-open face. The man was
young and chubby. He would be good eating.
No one else wanted to incur the big guy’s wrath so they all went back to trying to stay warm and watching the stew cook. The big guy wiped the blood off his forehead with his sleeve and came toward Blood; as if he’d seen him. Blood frowned. He didn’t want to kill yet. He liked to study his victims before eating them. He came to within ten feet of Blood and started to take a piss.
Blood smiled. Then he stepped forward and stood behind the man while he waited for him to finish his business. The man finished, turned around and almost shit himself when he realized there was a man a lot bigger than him, standing right in front of him.
Blood smiled at him and the terrified man could see that his teeth had been filed razor sharp. He opened his mouth to warn the others but before he could make a sound, the Blood- eye put the tip of a very serious looking sword up against his throat. “Howdy,” the giant Blood-eye said.
“Please don’t kill me mister,” he begged quietly.
Blood looked at the man and smiled, pushing the tip of the sword into the man’s throat a little harder. A drop of blood appeared and dripped down his neck. “I have to kill you, I’m hungry.”
“Wait…wait, now…I can help you! I know things that can help you,” the man whined softly.
Blood sniffed at the man. “What can you tell me that I don’t already know?”
“Over Watch… I can get you in there. I helped dig the tunnels. I can get you in,” the man whimpered.
Blood dropped the tip of his sword away from the man’s throat. “If you’re lying to me, I will show you the meaning of hell on earth… before I eat you and send your soul to the real hell that awaits you.”
The man nodded. “I understand, I can take you there, just spare me and my wife.”
“Which one is she?”
The man pointed at a pretty woman with a blue scarf wrapped around her head. Blood nodded and grunted. “She’s very beautiful. How did an asshole like you, get a woman like that?”
The man acted like he wanted to fight for a second, but he looked at Blood’s teeth again and his crazy, dark blood-colored eyes and decided it wasn’t worth it. “I had a lot of money before the lights went out. We’ve been together a long time.”
Blood smiled and patted the man on his cheek. “What about the rest of them?”
The man looked at the group without the slightest bit of compassion. “Eat hearty...”
Blood smiled and nodded. He grabbed the man’s coat, hitting him with the hilt of his sword right between his eyes. The man was out before he hit the ground.
What a night, Blood thought. Food for his tribe and a guide to take them into the fabled Over Watch. Magnus would be most pleased…then again…maybe Magnus didn’t need to know.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Reverend twitched and jerked in his sleep like a band of tiny raiders were jabbing him with needles. He was standing on an ornate, silver and gold ladder that spiraled up into the clouds, shouting and shaking his fist at God. “Where are you? Why won’t you help us?” he cried over and over, pounding his fist on the ladder but it made no mark and there was no answer.
There was a brilliant flash of silver light and he was instantly standing on a beach with steaming black sand. He felt water lapping persistently at his boots and looking down he stumbled back, falling over his own feet in his haste to get out of the ghoulish tide. It was blood, all of it, as far as he could see, in any direction. The crimson waves flowed and ebbed on the shoreline leaving the sizzling black sand a dirty rust color.
He shook his head and adjusted his sunglasses. His hair blew around his face. He gagged as the wind changed and came from across the water, bringing with it the all too familiar smell of death and decay. He knew where he was…he was behind the Keep in the human farms on the far beach that separated the camp from the Keep. How did I get back here?
He looked around frantically for a way out but all he could see was the bloody waves and the endless scorching oblique sand behind him. He fell to his knees and started to pray out loud. He could barely hear himself shouting above the waves. Noticing a shape moving toward him across the sand, he stood to get a better look, stumbling backwards when he realized that it was a giant black wolf.
But the wolf wasn’t looking at him… it was looking at something in the blood colored water. He followed his gaze and gasped. It was some sort of makeshift raft. He reached inside his duster and pulled out his telescope, sighting in on the floundering raft. “Hey!”
He started to run down the beach. There was a woman on the raft. She was desperately swinging a long stick. She had raven hair and was beautif
ul. The raft she was teetering on was made of bones. They were polished and almost blinded him with the scorching suns cruel reflections.
Reverend stopped and tried to steady his hands as he scanned the sky with the telescope. He saw movement off to the left of the raft. There were three giant vultures attacking her. She was fighting them off, but she was exhausted, and the raft she was on was barely holding together.
He ran into the bloodied water up to his neck, struggling to reach the raft. The raft bobbed and lilted precariously as the bloody waves tossed it about.
The woman struggled to hold on with one hand while she swung her stick with the other. He cried out in frustration. She looked exhausted and terrified.
He waved at her and hollered at her as loud as he could. She saw him and then the wolf, who was also trying to reach her. She cried out to them, frantically waving the stick as the hungry vultures renewed their attack. He tried to swim to her. He’d always been a good swimmer, but the surf kept pounding him back. The wolf was having the same luck.
He shouted as loud as he could as the vultures started to rip the flimsy raft apart, floundering in the overpowering waves. The woman on the raft looked at the wolf and waved her hand at him. It seemed to him that she knew the wolf, and that the wolf knew her. The wolf howled and whined, but could not reach the raft.
The woman turned toward Reverend and waved at him. The vultures swirled around her, preparing to attack.
The woman smiled sadly and dropped her stick into the water. The vultures screeched and dove into her, knocking her from the raft and destroying it. Reverend shouted and renewed his struggle, but was met by the same, agonizingly frustrating result. The putrid waves smashed into him, tossing him back onto the jagged shoreline; bloody and exhausted.
In front of him, written in the sand in large, distinct letters, he saw the word ‘Angel’. He turned his head back to the woman in time to see one of the giant vultures pluck her from the blood sea and carry her away.
He woke up, screaming and thrashing around violently.
There was only he, the two brothers and their snoring hostages camped high in the rocks for the night. “Holy shit, Reverend,” Basher swore.
Reverend sat straight up and nodded, trying to shake the terrifying vision from his mind. He lit a cigarette with trembling hands. “No shit… holy shit.” he agreed.
He didn’t go back to sleep that night. He didn’t want to see that dismal place from hell again, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the woman on the raft made of bones, and the name written in the blood-soaked, smoking sand.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Daniel and Pops couldn’t help but feeling discouraged as they took turns looking through Daniel’s field glasses at the main entrance to the Cavern of the Light. It was surrounded by two full platoons armed to the teeth.
“Something’s not right,” said Daniel.
Pops nodded his agreement. “There shouldn’t be that many guards posted. The main gate’s usually open and accessible.”
“Maybe we should go in and look around.”
Daniel shook his head no and motioned for Pops to follow him back down the narrow trail to the rest of their waiting party.
“What’s it look like down there?” the old lady asked the question they all wanted to know the answer to.
Daniel and Pops exchanged concerned glances. “It doesn’t look good. There’s a bunch of cavern soldiers posted down there and there’s no one going in or out,” Daniel explained.
The group started murmuring and complaining. Daniel knew they were just expressing the same disappointment he was feeling himself. Chloe came up beside him and put her hand in his. He smiled at her and pulled her closer.
“What do we do now?” Pops asked while the others fussed and squabbled on the best course of action for them to take. Most of them wanted to go the campground. Others wanted to try going into the Cavern of the Light.
“We have no choice,” said Daniel. “We find our way into Over Watch.”
The group wanted a vote.
“No vote. I’m going to Over Watch, if you want to go with me then be ready to move in five,” finished Daniel. Before anyone could agree or argue with him, a lookout he’d posted high in the rocks, whistled to let them know someone was coming. Everyone scrambled to hide. They could hear men approaching. The men came into the clearing they were in and stopped and started looking around.
“You men better drop them gun belts… if you want to see the sunrise tomorrow!” Daniel shouted.
There was six of them, three of them armed and three unarmed with their hands tied behind their backs. Slowly the group came out of their hiding spots, pointing their weapons at the men. Daniel came out last and approached the rough-looking characters. Two of the three men were massive and obviously wanted to shoot it out. They started smiling at each other while tapping their fingers on the grips of their pistols.
The third man reached out and touched them each on the arm. “These people are not our enemies,” he said. He unbuckled his gun rig and let it fall to the ground.
“No way in hell you’re getting my weapons,” said one of the men. But before he could reach for his pistol, the man with long white hair and beard jerked them out of his holsters and placed them on the ground. “Reverend… the last man that touched my guns can’t wipe his own ass anymore!” the giant, biker warned.
“Hey!” Daniel shouted. He was staring at the two bikers with a weird look on his face.
One of the bikers started smiling and laughing and came up to Daniel and bear- hugged him. “Captain...what the hell are you doing here?” Chains said, putting Daniel back down on his feet.
Basher took a closer look at Daniel and came over laughing. “I’ll be a son of a snog,” He gave Daniel a big hug as well.
Daniel was smiling and shaking his head. “I should have known you boys would make it. Where’s that crazy brother of yours?”
Chains and Basher looked at each other but didn’t answer.
“Folks call me Reverend,” the tall, thin man with dark green, mirrored sunglasses stepped forward and shook Daniel’s hand. “Their brother didn’t make it. He was killed when the cavern guard attacked us at the Cavern of the Light.”
Daniel shook his head, took a step back and opened his pack. He pulled a bottle of whisky out of his backpack and broke the seal on it. “I was saving this for Over Watch but this seems like a more appropriate time.” He raised the bottle and tipped it toward Chains and Basher. “To Fury, the craziest son of a bitch on the block…”
The block was the term they’d used for the true American soldier prisoner unit
they’d been held at before the freedom war. The Captain had kept them all together and sane while they watched the world they knew being torn apart. Chains, Basher and Fury had been three of Daniel’s best soldiers and had helped with their escape and the subsequent raid on the prison to free the rest of their brothers and sisters.
Daniel took a drink off the bottle and passed it to Chains who nodded and somberly took a pull before handing it to his brother. Basher looked at Daniel and shook his head before pouring some of the precious whiskey out on the ground and taking a swig before handing it to Reverend. Reverend nodded at Daniel before taking a drink.
Pops, his sons and Juggernaut came up to introduce themselves.
Reverend noticed the two brothers were polite. He was relieved that Daniel knew them, because they could be a real pain in the ass. He shook hands with everyone and put his pistol belts back on. Daniel and Reverend studied each other while the others glad-handed back and forth like they were at a church social.
It took Onyx howling out a long, mournful wail to snap everybody back to the situation at hand. Angel smiled and held her hand out as Onyx showed her the two brothers. She was the prettiest woman either of them had ever seen. Before they could react, Daniel came between them and asked them to help Juggernaut and Pops son’s keep watch.
The two brothers looked as if they
would argue with him for a moment, but then they looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders together. “Just like old times Captain,” laughed Chains. They surprised Daniel by saluting him.
He returned it without thinking. “Carry on Sergeant,” he said to Chains first and then Basher. They nodded at Reverend and left to follow Daniel’s orders. Pops looked at his sons and nodded. They followed the two brothers, with Juggernaut following them to go on look-out.
Reverend watched them go and turned to talk to Daniel. When he saw Angel, he stepped back and sat down hard, right where he stood, taking his low-crowned wide brimmed, dusty black hat off and wiping his brow. He shook his head and looked at her again. There was no doubt in his mind. She was the same young woman he’d seen fighting the vultures on the bone raft in the sea of blood.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
When Scout and his older brother, Tomahawk, were much younger, they were rescued by a band of mountain raiders after their parents were killed and eaten by Blood-eyes. The mountain outlaws, some three hundred strong, led by a man called Kodiak, were comprised mostly of outlaws who’d been forced to hide in the caves of the mountains when the mushroom clouds from the nuclear bombs filled the sky.
The outlaws had been locked in a battle over the rights to the Cavern of the Light, which they felt like they had claim to because in all fairness they were the ones who found it and cleaned out all the snogs and if it hadn’t been for the fact that the civilized humans had taken it away from them, they would still be living in what they considered their sacred ground.
After Scout had grown old enough to go out on his own, he’d broken the mountain raider’s hearts- along with his brothers- when he announced, he was going to live among the civilized people of the campground.
Tomahawk had taken the news the worst and many years had passed since Scout and he had spoken. Now, Scout was back, standing tall and proud with his chin up and his heart in his hand. As he looked around, he saw a few smiling faces, all of which had a hand in raising him.
