Red Robin: Post-Apocalyptic America

by R. B. Tetro

  For what seemed like an eternity the two of them faced at each other, until finally Daniel found his voice. “Darry?” was the only word that he could manage, but it was enough. At the mention of his childhood nickname, Darius rushed forward and hugged his father and his father. Daniel hugged him back and for a while it was only the two of them and the vicious world around them meant nothing.

  “Hurry at all costs, or all will be lost!” Scout reminded them.

  Daniel snapped out of his trance and held his son out at arm’s length. “What about your mother? Where is she? Is she still alive?”

  “I am still alive, so to speak,” came a tired voice from the bed. Darius led his father over by look down at the bed. Constance hid her face, trying to avoid eye contact with Daniel. “My God…what happened to you?’ He exclaimed. “Did Siros do this to you?” Daniel gaped at his wife’s new appearance. She looked evil, pale, almost reptilian.

  “I have changed, husband. I’m consumed by the darkness that has ravaged my soul. Go now! Take Darius away from here. Leave me here where I belong.”

  “But, I can’t leave you this way! There must be something we can do.”

  Constance’s eyes flashed and she spat at him. “My soul is required in hell. What can you do for me except what you have always done…which is to leave me, when I needed you the most!”

  Daniel wanted to explain things to her but there were sounds of a struggle from out in the passageway. He wanted to touch his wife and hold her but she was so repulsive looking that she no longer resembled a human.

  It didn’t matter anymore. She was already gone. “I love you. I’m so sorry,” he managed before dragging Darius away, toward the door.

  “I won’t not leave her!” Darius shouted and struggled against his father’s grasp but he was pitifully weak. Daniel easily over powered him.

  The sounds of fighting grew closer and the passageway was filling up with enemies. Before they’d taken ten steps the Blood-eyes were on them and the battle began in earnest.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-SEVEN

  After the explosion woke him and he realized that his new bride-to- be had somehow escaped, Magnus screamed, cursed, broke several things and went in search of her. He thought about his uncle’s forbidding dream and, for the first time, Magnus felt the icy cold fingers of fear.

  He glanced towards his wife’s chambers and thought briefly about going and grabbing her and her pitiful son to face with him whatever fate he was about to find but the uproar of the battle far below grabbed his attention.

  He stopped and looked down at the rebels pouring inside the Keep. It was complete carnage. Magnus couldn’t help but respect the red-skinned warriors as they fought like valiant savages against overwhelming numbers. Where is he, Magnus worried, the blue-eyed warrior? Try as he might he could not spot him or any of the other members of his now, famous party.

  “Stop your moronic gawking and get up here. Hurry!” Siros shouted down from the balcony on the top floor of the Keep.

  Magnus frowned but after seeing that his uncle was about to cast a spell, he hurried up the stairway. They stood side-by-side, looking down at the battle below, which wasn’t going so good for the home team. “We’re losing,” Magnus said in disbelief.

  “Take pause, nephew, I’m merely waiting for them to get it in the right place,” Siros hissed. They watched the fever-pitched battle for a few more moments.

  “If you wait much longer, old man, they’ll be up here with us. They’re at the bottom of the stairs!”

  Siros looked at him with his blood- red eyes blazing with undisguised hatred. “They are precisely where I want them to be!” he shouted and cast a spell.

  Magnus stepped back away from him. He could smell and feel the scorched energy building in his uncle’s disgusting body, finally releasing, crackling and sizzling from his outstretched fingertips to explode at the bottom of the stairway.

  The floor around the last handful of stubborn attackers exploded out from under them and everyone else in the expansive entrance way, shaking the Keep’s foundations for the second time that day.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-EIGHT

  They’d been waiting on them, hundreds of armored snogs and Blood-eyes waiting for them to arrive before Siros sprung the second part of his plan. Pops took Darius and helped what few wounded fighters he could to safety while Daniel organized their small army in a defensive position. If it hadn’t been for him and his knowledge of military tactics, all would have been lost.

  It took no small amount of time for them to repel the relentless attacks but repel them they did and slowly but surely- much to Siros and Magnus’s horror as they watched from above- Daniel and his highly pissed off, rag-tag army fought their way down the passage and up the stairs. Siros felt the clutch of his own mortality, squeezing his heart with its ice cold claws.

  Again, the rebel army surged forward, only a few steps but still they came on leaving dead and dying in their wake. “I think it may be wise to retire to my quarters, just in case we need to make a hasty retreat.” Siros suggested, turned and headed in that direction without waiting for his nephew who was staring in disbelief at the grey-haired warrior with rage-filled blue eye’s…the bluest eyes he’d ever seen.

  How is he able to kill so many? I might not be able to…no! You mustn’t think that way! You will destroy him, just as you destroy all whom you wish. But still… And then he saw Daniel and a small handful of his fighters running up the stairs, pointing at him. The remainders of the blue-eyed man’s fighters were holding their position on the stairs but thankfully the reinforcements had arrived and they were doing so at a heavy cost.

  It’s just a matter of time, and I’ll have more help than I need, he told himself but even as he thought it he felt the same desperate fear in the deepest pit of his black stomach and hurried after his uncle.

  Daniel, Reverend, Angel and Onyx, the old lady, Poet and Scout made their way up to the top story of the Keep, leaving Juggernaut, Chains, and Butcher in charge of the rest of their depleted forces to hold the stairway for as long as possible. They stepped out on the great landing, all of them knowing which direction to go without being told. “We stay together! We will finish this!” Daniel shouted and led the way over to the massive door with iron straps. “Scout…I mean, son. If you please…” Daniel asked.

  Scout looked as if he might cry. He put his hand over his heart and smiled at Daniel, stepping up to the door with his lock pick in his hand. They watched his back while he fussed with the complicated inner mechanism of the door.

  “Over there…” Reverend pointed. They watched as Siros and his towering nephew stepped out into the open. Daniel stepped toward them with Reverend on one side of him and Poet on the other, but he stopped them. “My fight is out here. You stay with Angel…she’s our only hope.”

  Neither one of them liked it but they returned to stand in front of Angel in the doorway.

  Daniel hefted his battle axe, smiling. At long last, he had his enemy within reach. He stopped, and just like in his dream, Siros pulled a blood-red bell out of his robes and started to ring it.

  “Hurry! We don’t have much time!” Daniel was able to shout before the entire landing was packed with enemies.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-NINE

  After Angel opened the coffin everything faded into nothing. The only thing that held her attention was what was staring at her with undisguised hatred. It was a baby, or no. At one time, perhaps, it had been a baby, but now it was something vile and evil, corrupted by the darkness from which it was born. The hideous abomination’s skin was the color of blood and it’s evil, blood-colored eyes were the eyes of Satan himself.

  At first, Angel didn’t understand what her mother had been trying to tell her about a choice because to her the choice between healing and killing this freak of natural order was crystal clear. Nothing this evil should be allowed to live. She thought. But in the back of her mind, she heard her mother’s voice saying over and
over, the choice is yours whether to heal it or kill it and you must choose wisely for the fate of you and all of your friends, hang’s in the balance.

  Angel chuckled despite all the turmoil going on around her. No pressure…

  Another powerful blast rocked the room and she crawled underneath the work bench, dragging the cumbersome coffin with her, her dagger held over it just in case it should spring from its wooden, blood-stained prison. The fighting was intense, so loud that she couldn’t think. Her pulse was racing and her heart was in her throat. It was now or never. She raised the dagger high and was about to plunge it into the vile infant’s heart. But the words of her mother and father stopped her once again.

  “You must decide to heal it or kill it… only you can decide.”

  She froze mid-strike, stopping the point of the razor-sharp dagger less than an inch from its heart. The creature was staring at her growling softly and spitting green film at her. There were sores all over it and it smelled like it had been long dead, not unlike Siros, but still, it was a baby and no matter how grotesque it looked the thought of killing it she could not abide and so she prayed over it.

  And as she knelt over the creature, despite its hissing and clawing, she breathed into the creature’s face and mouth. Then, she took her dagger and pricked her fingertip, squeezing a drop of her own blood from the wound and letting it drop into the little monster’s howling mouth. The baby tried to spit out her blood but Angel held its mouth closed.

  She struggled with the monster as the battle raged on around her until finally, the creature gasped and started to tremble and then to shake as if it were having a seizure. Angel feared that there was no saving the thing.

  There was another loud explosion and, with the rat’s help, she saw her wolf friends, Reverend, and the old lady tossed like bloody rags through the air. Then she was praying for Jesus like she’d prayed the night she was almost eaten alive by the rats in the over- turned sewer truck. When she’d finally given up hope on a miracle occurring and decided to put the wretched creature out of its misery, it fell silent and lay still, looking up at her. It’s hate- filled, blood red eyes faded and changed until they were blue and its skin was no longer blood-colored. She watched as it’s skin turned light brown and healthy and its countenance was no longer evil.

  She had chosen wisely. She almost shouted for joy until she saw Poet lying in a heap just inside the doorway and all hope and joy left her heart, once again.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THIRTY

  They held their own and then some until the dark wizard’s bolt of energy blasted the door Scout was fussing with into splinters, sending their group flying backwards into Siros’ personal quarters. It took a few moments for them to get their feet under them and find the workbench in the corner. Scout, Onyx, Angel and, of course, the old lady who stood swinging her long knives wildly at the Blood- eyes which were trying to force their way through the open doorway.

  On the floor at her feet, unconscious or maybe dead, was Poet.

  Just outside the doorway stood Daniel, back-to-back with Juggernaut and beside them stood Butcher and Chains, back-to- back. The four of them were ankle deep in the blood of their enemies, when suddenly the enemy hoard parted and between them came Magnus, swinging his long sword like a scythe.

  Daniel barely had time to raise his battle axe and block the vicious downward blow and, still, it broke his axe in two, sending him backwards through the doorway. Magnus came after him, backhanding Juggernaut and sending him reeling; as if he were no more than a boy. Reverend emptied both of his pistols into him and still, he came on, kicking him square in the chest, sending him flying backwards into the old lady.

  Daniel stood just inside the doorway and when Magnus lumbered into the room he hit him over the head with a large marble table. Magnus groaned, sinking down to one knee. Daniel was on him in an instant, and then Juggernaut, but Magnus rose and shook them off, throwing each of them in different directions. “You can’t kill me!” he roared and charged Daniel who was trying to untangle himself from all the overturned furniture.

  A spilt second before he cut Daniel in two, Reverend was there, sinking a sword handle deep into Magnus’ exposed lower back.

  Magnus screamed and whirled around, catching Reverend by surprise. Reverend had thought he’d mortally wounded the giant red-haired fiend but now found himself being hauled up off the floor until his mirrored sunglasses were eye-to-eye with him. “Not even you can kill me, Reverend. Not even God, himself, can kill me!” he roared and head-butted the preacher over and over until his mirrored sunglasses fell away from his busted face.

  But Reverend started laughing and his eyes started glowing a brilliant green; brighter and brighter, until a powerful wave of pure energy exploded from his wide open eyes, turning every enemy around him into fine powder and knocking Magnus back off of his feet and into the wall behind him.

  Daniel was up and swinging and so was Juggernaut. Between the two of them, they managed to force Magnus to relinquish his death grip on Reverend who dropped to the floor like a stone beside Poet who was still not showing any signs of life.

  Magnus was losing ground but before any of them had a chance to catch their breath, another bolt of energy split the chaos of the battle and shattered everyone’s eardrums. Siros chuckled as he walked into the room, gleefully appraising the situation. Magnus was fighting with his back to the corner against the grey- haired man and another man, who was almost as tall as Magnus. The two of them were both wounded and bleeding badly but then, so was Magnus.

  His gaze flicked over to Angel and a huge black wolf beside her. They were looking at something inside the coffin. But how did they know? His stomach turned sour when he saw that the lid was off and that Angel was holding a dagger over the open coffin. He threw a hasty bolt of energy at them but the battle came spilling into the room behind him, spoiling his aim. Once again, he seized the power and his energy bolt hit high on the back wall, showering the two would-be heroes with gravel and rock.

  Then, he felt something slice into his calf and he screamed like a little girl. The old lady was attacking him and beside her was Reverend, who’s eyes were still glowing bright green and who was swinging an axe like no man of God he’d ever seen and they were forcing him back, out onto the balcony outside his chambers.

  This is how it was in the dream, he thought frantically. But that’s impossible! Still, here and now, Magnus was being forced out onto the balcony with him.

  “Summon the vultures!” Magnus screamed as he was being driven further and further back by Daniel and Juggernaut. “Summon the damn vultures!” Magnus screamed once again.

  “I can’t!” the old man screeched. “The dream! Remember the dream!” Siros dove behind a pillar just ahead of Reverend’s axe.

  “Damn the dream, call the vultures!” Magnus howled. Siros could hear the desperation in his voice, so he called the vultures the same way he’d called the snogs and rock demons and he couldn’t help but feel a small bit of hope as he watched his beloved blood-drinking flying army swoop down in a mass of flapping wings and ripping beaks and claws.

  But then he saw the woman…that beautiful, dangerous woman, the same one he’d warned Magnus about, standing with her arms out to the vultures. Her eyes were blind but she seemed to be speaking to them, somehow. He rang the bell for all he was worth, and tried to climb the outermost pillar. Growling, he threw his last bolt of energy, knocking his two attackers twenty-feet back into the wall where they slid down, unconscious.

  He picked up Reverend’s axe, raising it high over his head and rushed Angel, who stood muttering something under her breath over and over while holding the open coffin and tracing a cross on the undead baby. She hadn’t killed; it which would have been exactly what would have destroyed all of them. Instead, she was healing the baby and the baby was changing; from the hideous monster that Siros had kept alive with the blood of his victims and used as a conduit to the dark side.

  He snarled and swung the axe
but a great, black wolf grabbed his arm and shook him violently. Then he saw more wolves and more rebels until, at last, he realized that all was lost. He dropped the axe and stumbled backwards, looking in horror at the now, normal baby, who Angel was holding while Siros’ evil world began to crumble down around him.

  He stepped back until he was pressed against the balcony wall. He screamed and gathered himself to throw a spell when he heard the great whooshing of wings. Suddenly, hundreds of vultures hovered just above him, flapping their great, taloned wings as if in a trance, all of them looking as one at the woman, who looked like an angel.

  He struggled mightily for a pitiful old, dead person but then an arrow from the old lady’s bow pierced the hand that was holding the bell. He dropped it just before the vultures took him off the ground- screeching, ripping and pecking at him. As the vultures hovered with him in their talons, fighting over him, he looked down and saw the battered and bloody Reverend, with the crazy, green glowing eyes stomp down on the bell and his insides felt like they were being ripped apart.

  His gaze went to the second bell he kept on his workbench and just before the vultures took him away he saw Poet rise and smash that bell also. Then, he felt his body being ripped apart and he screamed until they ripped his throat out and even after that, it took a while for him to die, but die he did and ugly…real ugly. As ugly as he deserved.

  Magnus watched his uncle disappear in horror as Daniel’s sword claimed more and more of his blood until he faltered and went down. Daniel stood over him for moment while the rest of them came over to stand beside him. "For all those you've murdered, and for my wife and son, I sentence you to hell," Daniel growled.

  Magnus stared at him, his eyes still full of hatred and evil. There was no remorse, only utter contempt for his enemies. “You cannot kill what is already dead!” he had time to shout before Daniel swung his sword and cut off his left hand.