by Lahey, Tyler
Malcolm poked Viera, and they rose to leave. “Let a man dream Bill.”
Billy watched them disappear into the thick blooming underbrush that surrounded the camp. He almost shouted out telling them to be careful, but he bit his lip. The others would think him weak, maybe. They had been trained well.
They would be fine.
The Citadel
Jaxton left the passageway in the roof behind with a metal clang, as the hatch fell onto the roof. He breathed in the humid summer air, content to let his eyes sweep over the forests around the Citadel. The guards nodded to him in greeting, and continued their patrols across the roof. He clambered up to the sharp apex in the clock tower, the tallest point in the small town that sat so perfectly in the little valley. The early summer sun was stealing quietly beneath the wooded western ridge, a wall that burst with greenery.
He nodded to the Bear guards, and sat on the lip with a bowl on chili. The meat looked straggly and pulpy. It was probably old. So be it. He looked beside him, feeling an unnatural emptiness. Adira had left early that morning, taking two of her horse cart teams. The Bluffs settlement in the north needed supplies.
“I just wanted to say goodbye.” Bennett’s shadow blocked the sun.
Jaxton rose and stuck his hand out firmly. “Till we meet again.”
Bennett nodded, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, and grasped Jaxton’s hand. Jaxton saw him wander around the roof, having a word here and there with the others.
Even after last night’s debacle, never had he known such peace. It had been many months since the battle with the Lieutenant in the bloody snow. Out of a dozen minions, only two had survived Jaxton’s wrath. Jaxton had cast them out, and exiled them from the valley. They likely perished in the winter frost.
The others now looked to the Council for authority, an organization of six that he had handpicked. He had encouraged them to range beyond the Citadel, to reclaim some normalcy. Jaxton took heart from the new settlements, nestled deep in the forests that buzzed with new life. The Citadel remained the center of it all; a beacon of security and a fortress against any infected that made it through the ravines.
“What the fuck is that?!”
Jaxton heard one of the guards yelp, and his head snapped around to the north. His bowl clattered against the roof of the Citadel, where the chili’s foul meat festered on the metal.
Against a cloudless sky, a tiny flare soared several miles away. He couldn’t yet process what the blue and yellow smoke meant, even as the fear began whispering his name.
“What outpost is that?” Jaxton demanded, resisting the urge to scratch his lice.
One of the Bear officers took a step towards the lip of the high school’s roof. “North Ravines, I think. That’s where Wilder took four of the Eagle troopers to exile the traitor, Leeroy.”
“What’s the protocol for a blue and yellow?!” Jaxton snapped, furious he had forgotten.
“The ravine is likely under intense assault, but they are currently holding the line. They are requesting reinforcements. What are your orders sir?”
“Another one, Jax,” someone growled, from under shaggy, unkempt hair.
Jaxton snapped his head around and saw a second flare, racing skywards to the south. “The Bluffs,” he repeated, feeling the panic digging into him. “Adira’s there. How many men can we get out right now? I need to get to those settlements.”
Bennett clasped his friend on the shoulder, sweat shimmering on his forehead in the late August heat. “Give me something. Let me help. Adira is at the old reservoir, is she not?”
Jaxton shook his head emphatically, “If you think I have learned to fully trust you again, you are mistaken. Where is Liam? We need to plug those gaps before the valley is overrun.”
Jaxton gestured for his tomahawks, and slid them into his cracked and broken thigh armor. He cast grey eyes out to survey the walls of the rural valley that surrounded them, the valley that they had called home for the past four hundred nights…and another lifetime before that.
“JAXTON!” Liam roared. He was strolling across the roof with a dozen armed survivors in tow.
“Two flares,” Jaxton forced a smile. “Nothing we can’t handle. Summer has been kind to us. ”
“What are your orders?” Liam demanded, a massive axe in his hands.
“Take ten of your men on the ATVs. Secure the North ravine. Meet up with Wilder there. I’ll handle the south.” He could scarcely wait any longer. Shouldering Bennett’s bony form aside, he jogged towards the ladders thinking only of Adira’s glittering dark eyes.
Jaxton gripped the ladder with callused, cracking hands. As he turned, he saw something snaking up between the silhouettes of his brothers and sisters. Suddenly, his hands felt cold on the metal.
“Black and red...” he muttered aloud. As Jaxton remounted the three-story rooftop, the survivors locked eyes festering with fear. A third flare’s vile smoke wafted like a tower on the eastern horizon. No one moved, transfixed by the twin pillars of smoke chasing each other higher and higher.
Liam drew in close, so Jaxton could see and smell the twenty-five year old’s rotting teeth. “They’re being overrun. That’s three settlements under simultaneous attack. We’ve never had three before at the same time. Never three.”
Jaxton raced to the other side of the school’s roof, where the fields of vegetables and weak crops struggled below. Standing between the old white lines from the football field, dozens of survivors pointed at the sky. Memories of Friday night lights flooded his head and he fought to return to reality. Jaxton turned back to the ragged group of Citadel guards, with their old shotguns and compound hunting bows. “Sound the alarm. Now. Full call-up. Get our reserves to those settlements now, before they are lost.”
“Full-call up? We’ve never had a full call up…three hundred survivors…that’s the Lion, the Wolf, the Destrier, the Eagle-“
Jaxton cut the fool short. “I know what it is damnit! Get everyone to arms, now!”
His men raced to the ladders, gaunt figures in pitiful garb.
“Sound the alarm!”
As tiny figures raced across the fields below, the horns began to bellow in the summer dusk. Three flares at once?
“Liam. We can stop this bleeding. The Wolf units may just be overreacting. As long as the Western ravine doesn’t come under attack, we’ll be ok. Thank God it’s not the west. That one’s one hundred feet wide.”
Liam hefted his axe and pointed it his rooftop guards. “You men, WITH ME!”
“Jaxton!”
Jaxton stopped halfway down the ladder, and forced himself to climb back up with mounting dread. A lone silhouette stood against the fading summer sun. Bennett turned, his lip twitching, and pointed to the western horizon.
“What color is it?” Jaxton demanded, though in his heart he already knew.
Bennett gulped, and slapped a fresh magazine into a pistol. “Black and red.”
Jaxton froze, and heard shouting voices rising from the school below him. Within several minutes, all the factions would be racing down the road, to hold the valley against nature’s holocaust. He took a deep breath. His friends would be spread out all over the valley’s forest floor. He couldn’t hold two ravines at once. Who would lead the Eagle in Troy’s absence? “I need to hold the Western ravine. It’s the largest. If those settlements fall, we’ll lose the valley. The Lion is with me.”
Bennett straightened his bony back. “Trust me, as you once did in simpler times. I know I haven’t made it easy. Let this be the last time you doubt me. Give me something, and I will hold the south, and make sure Adira is safe.”
Jaxton crushed the anguish that was festering inside his gut. There was no time. He drew from his pocket a patch.
Bennett stiffened sharply, his eyes alight. Tears streaked little lines on Bennett’s filthy face as Jaxton slapped the Eagle’s patch on his jacket’s shoulder sleeve.
Jaxton drew his friend closer. “Bennett, this is it. The Hord
e is real. There could be thousands, more than we’ve ever seen. Everything we’ve built, everything our friends have died for…Take the Eagle troopers that are still in the Citadel. Stop the bleeding- Plug the gap.”
Bennett clasped his friend on the shoulder, his grip firm. “For the Citadel. I’ll save her, Jax. You won’t regret this.”
Jaxton nodded sharply, and raced to the ladders to the wailing of desperate horns.
…
His men fell in behind him, strong kinsmen with bulky forms and black armor. As they advanced, they strapped on their bulletproof vests, adjusted helmets and makeshift forearm guards. They advanced through the nervous crowds of survivors gathered in the gym, one symbol drawing everyone’s wide eyes. The Lion assembled with all speed, its men hand chosen by its commander for close quarters’ work. Its quartermasters burst out of the locker rooms, towing little carts stuffed with melee weapons. A crowd gathered around them, to shout at the brawny warriors in a single color. A single golden mark marred the pitch black perfection. Each wore his Lion patch with pride.
The Lion had never before been called out in full during its months in service after a late winter creation.
“Jaxton!”
Jaxton could see a miserable figure hobbling towards him on crutches. Jaxton’s men barely acknowledged him as they prepared for combat.
“Get out of my fucking way!” Troy’s face was ruby red. “What’s happening? A full call-up?”
“Four settlements are under assault. Two are already being overrun,” Jaxton panted.
“Four? Where are my men?”
“Half were leading Leeroy to his exile this morning. North ravines. They were one of the teams that fired the flare.”
Troy’s red face became incredulous. “A flare? My team would never call for backup.”
Jaxton finished strapping on his kneepads and fitted two tomahawks to his thighs. “It’s that bad.”
“Well who’s leading the rest of my team? I haven’t given any orders!”
“I gave them to Bennett. The Bluffs need reinforcements too. Bennett knows that part of the valley better than anyone still here.”
“Bennett?” Troy spat, wobbling on his crutches. “How dare you? How dare you take my team from me?”
“Troy! Enough,” Jaxton growled, drawing to full height in black body armor. “You have command of the Citadel. If it goes badly for us, I’ll fire a flare to signal the retreat. Cover us from above as we come in.”
Troy chewed on his words and his neck bulged with fury. He mastered his emotions and stood a little straighter. “Good luck Jax. Bring everyone home.”
Jaxton nodded sharply, furious at his friend but unwilling to continue the argument. The valley was falling. He turned to leave.
“Jax!” He heard his friend call, the violence gone from his voice. Troy hobbled over and clasped him on the shoulder. “It’s the Hordes, as I warned you. We cannot win this fight.”
Jaxton felt the Lion troopers around them stiffen. “I have to try. The Lion has never once been broken.” Then he raised his voice till it boomed under the rafters, “Haven’t you heard?!”
His men, covered in body armor from head to toe, roared their approval in answer. They snatched weapons of choice from the carts, great axes and hammers, makeshift spears, and several antique swords. His burliest drew from the second cart, and hoisted large riot shields over four feet tall onto their arms.
“Where’s Adira?” Troy asked suddenly, his eyes soft.
“The Bluffs, near the old resevoir.”
“My men are with Bennett? Good. She’ll be ok.”
As Troy disappeared into the swelling mass of men, Jaxton fitted his own helmet, goggles, and facemask. Onto his limbs he strapped armor spray-painted black, and in his hand he felt a spear pressed. His men grinned at him wildly; excited their months of preparation with the Lion would finally come to fruition. His officers chirped around them, their masks muffling voices trembling with anticipation.
Liam forced his way through the crowd, still the bear of a man he had always been. But where he had been soft before, now there was only iron. His jacket was emblazoned with a roaring Bear.
He crossed to his friends swiftly, shoving others around him aside. “The Western Ravine?”
Jaxton nodded. “We need the carts to get us up there. By the time we get our shit together, who knows if the Wolf will even still be there.”
Liam nodded sharply. “What do you need from me?”
Jaxton clapped him on the shoulder. “Bennett has the south. I’ll take the west. We need you on the North and East. How many men do you have here?”
“At the Citadel? Twenty. Are we evacuating?”
Jaxton could sense his men listening in. He forced his head to stay up. “No. Not yet.” Then he drew Liam close. “But be ready to move.”
Jaxton mounted the bleachers and hoisted his spear. “Our brothers are in danger of being overrun in the west. They call to the Lion for aid. They call for their finest to hold the valley. In this, I know we will not fail them. LET’S MOVE!”
The following thunder was their answer.
His men, already slick with sweat in the humid air, crowded into the two horse-drawn carts that waited for them in the main drive. Jaxton took a deep breath of it in, hearing the cicadas chirping a constant chorus from the greenery.
“Mike!” He called to his first officer. “We can only take half, maybe a few more. Pick one of the officers and have them follow on foot, with supplies for an overnight operation. Tents, food, more weapons. You know the drill. Just like we practiced.”
Mike trotted off, his eyes hunting the crowd for the candidates he wanted. Jaxton wheeled, and acknowledged the crowd that had gathered below him and on the roof above. Nearly three hundred souls in the valley, all depending on him for their survival. It was he who had led them to this place originally, and he who had welcomed them all with open arms. It was he who had taken down the Lieutenant. It was he who had urged them to hold the valley, rather than attempt to run west, ahead of the Hordes. And it was he who would now be their salvation in the final hour.
Chapter Seven
The Western Ravine
“Keep fucking shooting!” Viera screeched. She fumbled with another arrow and cursed, dropping it. Controlling her breath, she raised her bow. The sun’s demise cast brilliant, dancing shadows on the ravine, and made it hell on her poor eyesight. She paused over an advancing infected form, and released her fingers. The arrow flew far wide, and she grasped her cramping arm. Viera sank to her knees and scrambled sweaty fingers in her quiver. In despair, she launched it against a tree, empty.
“I’m out! Are you out!? I’m out!” Malcolm wailed, as the infected advanced over the piles of their own dead. There had never been this many. Never. Where were the men from the Citadel?
More than three dozen torn and bloodied bodies littered the ravine at random intervals, prickled with colorful barbs. The closest laid no more than fifteen feet away, its stench wafting on the breeze. A husky inhuman snarling filled the ravine’s rocky embrace, and two more infected stalked into view, advancing to a quick trot. Viera flung wild eyes to her flanks, where the other two archers loosed another desperate volley. They were hitting one out of every three shots.
“Where is the Lion?! Where the fuck did Billy go? Is there another flare? Fire another! Fire another god damnit!!” Malcolm screamed, the veins on his narrow head bulging.
Viera fumbled with the final cartridge in her rucksack, finally slipping it into the tube. Raising it skyward, the flare gun belched. Twin pillars of red and black smoke soared two hundred feet into the sky.
“They should be here by now!!”
A snarling infected woman closed within ten feet before she took a round through the skull. Todd hefted his sniper rifle, slid the bolt back and loaded another bullet. He shifted in his treetop hunting stand. “I’ve got three left,” he said calmly, his voice drifting down from the perch.
“Malcolm, lo
ok!” Viera pleaded. Malcolm wrenched his eyes away from the fore and his heart pounded. There was another flare, several miles away to the south. “There’s another! It’s the fucking horde!”
“We’ve gotta get outta here!” Malcolm screamed. He saw more infected hastening down the chute, stumbling over the corpses of their allies a stone’s throw away.
Malcolm saw Viera drop her bow and run, even as he heard Todd cursing her cowardice from his lofty perch. The sniper rifle cracked again, and again. The other Wolf archers were gone, but the rifle snapped once more. The weapon clacked: empty.
Todd cursed quietly to himself, twenty feet off the ground, as he saw the final guard fleeing back into the valley. Todd shifted his hips, annoyed at the painful metal seat. “They don’t make these damn things for comfort, do they?” He looked up absent-mindedly, and saw the infected closing to him. He grunted. The ravine had fallen. Squinting in the dusk, he saw the stream become a river of rotting flesh.
His spine tickled at the sound of scratching, and he looked below his metal stand, to the base of the oak. Four infected were dragging their broken fingernails on the wood, their bloodshot eyes fixed on his own. He chuckled. The ladder was right beside them, but their diminished mental faculties could not comprehend its usage. Todd leaned back, and waited for the cavalry to arrive as more and more infected stumbled into the valley. The Lion would handle these, Todd knew. Jaxton had never failed them before, not for one night in four hundred.
Near the Southern Ravine
“Save your ammo,” Adira commanded. She felt the gear drop and the horses roar. 5,000 pounds of hot metal slammed into the wall of infected that were surging down the street, and scattered their broken bodies. Adira forced the wheel around, and the heavily plated Dodge Charger made a vicious turn on a carpet of wriggling infected. Kylie pulled her .357 magnum inside the window and held on for dear life.
