by M. K. Gibson
Ahead of us was a small crew of six military-grade jeeps, five flatbed transport trucks, two tanks, and a crapload of fully automatic weaponry pointed at us from the soldiers driving the vehicles. The newcomers were formed into a semi-circular roadblock. From this end of the weapon barrels, it looked like they meant business.
Great. More weapons pointed at me from people who took an immediate dislike to me. What was up with that?
I was relatively charming with a good sense of humor. I didn’t go out of my way to offend people. Mostly. So why the hell was it that nearly every time I met someone new, they threatened me with horrible violence?
“Will ‘please don’t shoot’ do any good?” I asked as I stood up in the Outrider with my arms up.
“Sit down,” TJ whispered. “You’re embarrassing us.”
“Who are you and what are you doing out here?” one of the men from the trucks asked.
The speaker had an air of authority, and was the leader, by my guess. He was about my height, with silver-gray hair and a matching goatee. He was in good shape for being in his mid- to late fifties. He wore a simple dark green t-shirt under his thick brown leather coat.
I very well couldn’t tell him the truth. That my giant friend had somehow used Ley Line magic and transported us here in search of an ancient artifact of God. Then, when we arrived, we were chased and captured by, and eventually escaped, shape-changing Native American descendants, their storm bird deity, and a band of assassins in a gunship.
“We’re lost?” I yelled back.
“Bullshit,” the gray-haired man said.
“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d buy that,” I mumbled to myself. “Any chance I can put my arms down?”
“I never told you to put them up in the first place,” the man said.
Hmm, he hadn’t, had he? Well, don’t I feel foolish. I hopped out of the Outrider and lit a smoke. “Got a name, soldier?”
“Let’s not go getting all informal just yet. How about I just keep being the guy on this side of the gun?”
“That’s a hell of a long name. Mind if I just call you Sparky?”
“Go ahead. See what life is like with a bullet in the lung.”
“Touché,” I said, puffing on my smoke as I assessed the soldiers and their gear.
Most of it was modeled after wartime tech. But the gear was new, not antique. Funny thing was, from the transports to the tanks and the weapons, it all looked like it had been improved upon. Adapted and improvised. And that didn’t happen often in the modern world. Well, outside of the big companies’ think tanks, like ARCTech. Wherever these guys were from, they lived lives that enriched the soul. Interesting.
“I heard a rumor there was a couple of idiots who managed to escape a tribe of The People while also avoiding getting killed by a couple of Vox assassins. You know anyone like that?” Sparky said.
While I was flattered, I also knew a trap.
“Nope.”
“Too bad,” he said. “Someone like that might be welcome in First Heaven. Since you’re not them, I reckon you have to be shot. Nice knowing you.”
First Heaven? Oh . . . crap. I hadn’t even considered the possibility that First Heaven was where we might be going. I’d heard of the largest free-farm in the wastelands. Who hadn’t? Rumors said it was somewhere in Kansas, but no one knew for sure. Some claimed it was the largest populated non-city settlement. Rumors claimed they had a strict “no-demon” policy and the firepower to back it up.
And if they were from First Heaven, then this guy must be . . . Lucian Riggs. Damn.
Everything I’d heard about the quasi-cult leader who ran First Heaven was intense. One part Johnny Appleseed, one part David Koresh. And if even half of those rumors about him were true, then lying to him would not go well for me or TJ.
Well, when lies won’t set you free, you only have one choice.
“Oh, I thought you meant did I know of anyone else who did all that. Yeah, that was us, totally. Mr. Riggs, is it?”
The man nodded at my question. “I thought so.”
“What are you doing?” TJ whispered.
“Telling the truth,” I said. “I know, it’s not my usual go-to move, but do you see all those guns? Hell, they have tanks. I’m good, kid, but not that good.”
“How’d you know all that?” TJ yelled out from The Outrider.
“Damn, kid. How about we not provoke the guys with the guns?”
Riggs and his assault team all got a good chuckle from TJ’s outburst. “Well, young man, I make it my business to know all types of things. My intel team picked up a communication about Vox assassins registering a flight plan out of New Golgotha. And my frontier scouts spotted a gunship up north near one of The People’s settlement. Wasn’t hard to put two and two together. So, what y’all do to get a couple of top killers to come after you all the way out here?”
I looked over at TJ, who held his hands up. “Don’t look at me. You’re the one who wants to be all honest and crap.”
“I escaped Flotsam Prison,” I said.
“Bullshit,” Riggs said. “No one escapes that place.”
“I did.”
“He really did sir,” TJ added.
“And what were you in for, little man?”
“I wasn’t. The demon bishop had me and some other kids taken from our home to use as leverage against Salem.”
Riggs looked at TJ, then at me. The silver-haired man raised his hand and the men and women of his assault team raised their weapons, aiming them towards the sky. The man walked over to us with a casual grace. I could see in his eyes there was nothing that scared this man, and that made me extra cautious.
If a man couldn’t be scared, it usually meant there was nothing he loved or valued. And that kind of crazy oftentimes led to the suffering of others.
Riggs stopped a few paces away and looked me over. There was something familiar about him. Looking at him, I knew I’d never met the man before in my life. Any of them. But the way he looked at me made me think the feeling was mutual.
“Have we met before?” Riggs asked.
“No, I don’t think we have,” I said, eyeing him.
“No, I guess not. But there is something very familiar about you. I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” I asked.
“Not sure yet. But you look trouble.”
“I get that a lot. I’m only a quarter trouble on my father’s side,” I said with a smile. Behind me I heard TJ groan.
Riggs smiled back. “Why don’t you follow us back into the settlement? We can get you a nice meal and bed while we figure out what to do with you.”
“What do you mean?” TJ asked.
“If you really are escapees, then the demons will want that shit fixed soon. Which means they might come knocking on my door, and I can’t have that. I help take care of too many people to allow that to happen. So, like I said, we’ll have to figure out what to do.”
“I’m personally for letting us go.” I added, “If I get a vote, that is.”
“You don’t.” Riggs smirked. “But you’ll be treated fairly. If you’re from the city, then it may come as a shock to you, but people can be good to one another.”
“That really hasn’t been my experience so far,” I said.
“You gotta learn to trust a little.” Riggs smirked. “You’ll live longer.”
“Says the guy with a cohort of soldiers and tanks.”
“Says the smart mouth asshole who is over fifteen hundred miles from the prison he claims to have broken free from, but hasn’t explained why he’s fifteen hundred miles away.”
Ouch.
Riggs looked me over once again, trying to place where he knew me, but dismissed it with a shake of his head. “Regardless, it’s sound advice—take it or don’t. But here’s the situation, chief: I have a pair of wanted targets. That is either good for me or bad for me, and I have to figure out which it is. So, get in your vehicle and follow us, o
r I’ll order my troops to blow you away. Are we clear?”
I didn’t say anything.
Riggs leaned in and held his hand to his ear. “It’d be a damn shame if something happened to that kid because we got into a big dick contest. So let me ask you one last time: Are we clear?”
“Crystal,” I growled.
“Great,” Riggs said with a shit-eating smile as he patted me on the shoulder.
I got in The Outrider, scowling. TJ looked me over. “How bad are we?”
“I dunno. Just follow the convoy.”
In my years I thought I had seen everything there was to see. A few of them twice. But recent events had opened my eyes to the world that existed parallel to ours.
There was a time in humanity’s history when we thought we were alone. That religion was the opiate for the masses. Something only nut jobs and bible-thumpers believed in. Worldwide, mankind had believed in powerful things. Horrible things. Beautiful things. And in time, we cast them aside like a child who no longer felt the allure of a toy. We paid lip service to the monsters and gods of our history. Made jokes of them. Made bad movies and turned them into marketing icons.
And now, the world knew they were real. After G-Day, there was no denying it. And yet, I discovered still more. Layers upon layers were peeled back. Angels and gods. Demons who walked the earth. Monsters who I thought were just fairy tales were real.
Made me wonder what else was out there. Hell, maybe I didn’t want to know. But I did know that people could be just as monstrous. I didn’t get a villainous vibe from Riggs. My first assessment of him as dangerously fearless stood. But now I added sociopath. It was clear he had no emotional attachment to anything that wasn’t one of his people.
Hell, the more I thought about it, was I any different?
We drove on for the better part of an hour. The sun was up and morning was in full effect. My inner night owl cringed at the influx of vitamin D.
We crested a hill and crossed a river, and before us, in the rolling valley as far as the eye could see, was First Heaven in all its earthly glory. Fields upon fields, miles and miles in every direction. Silos and mills. Animals of all kinds. Greenhouses and power wells.
Damn. There was easily a population of over two hundred thousand here. All working the land. Or guarding it. It was like Midheim, only a hundred times the size and beauty. Riggs’ words of trust and humanity echoed in my ear. That was why places like First Heaven were built. A testament to humanity with rewards for a day’s work.
Damn . . . I felt a lump in my throat from the beauty of what mankind could be. This was the hope I told TJ about. This was the dream I had for humanity to achieve one day.
“What is this place?” TJ asked.
Rather than repeat my own inner monologue, I just whittled it down to the basics. “It’s a big-ass farm. Keep driving.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Just a Bed
First Heaven was beautiful.
It was simple and yet complex. A woven pattern of life and prosperity. The town—hell, call it what it was—the kingdom of First Heaven was laid out medieval-style. Or at least what I imagined a medieval kingdom would look like. There was a central keep at the heart of it all. A modernized castle made of white stone stood out at the top of the keep with flowing tan and green banners.
The castle had a slick cut and angled look that inspired beauty and fortitude. Instead of destroying nature, First Heaven had been built to incorporate it and expand as necessary. Evergreen trees and foliage were everywhere within the walled keep.
Around the castle and keep was a town made of the same white stone with modernized conveniences. It was like the mirror opposite of the supercities. As if someone had taken a power washer to the supercities and wiped away the grime and corruption. From my position overlooking the kingdom, my telescopic vision allowed me to see it all—the vast miles of farms, hydroponic grow houses, livestock pens and interconnecting roads between them all.
The morning sun was up fully now and I took a moment to stand there in the cold morning air and feel the warm light wash over me. I closed my eyes for a second and took a few deep breaths. It was cold, quiet tranquility. Man living in harmony with nature. Living off the land as our ancestors did thousands of years ago.
God, this sucked.
I lit a smoke, then wrapped myself tighter into my coat. Screw this nature crap. When I was a kid, my family went to Natural Chimney State Park in the former Virginia a lot. I would chase invisible dragons on my bicycle for hours. I would climb giant rock formations so huge that if I fell, I would die. I would be out in the woods from sunup to sundown, coming back to our site only to eat and sleep. When I was a kid, nature was awesome.
Then I grew up.
When horrors of a war with Hell were thrust upon us, I spent a lot of time outside, in the woods or the open plains of the US. Cold and miserable. Or boiling hot and miserable. All the while just trying to stay alive while our platoon moved from skirmish to skirmish, killing anything that had horns.
No sir, not for me anymore. My land was as close to nature as I wanted to come.
Nature was a great place to visit. But just call me a city kid now. I liked things like air conditioning and mindless TV. Bars and booze, women and adventure. Cheap drugs and expensive mistakes. In the city you could have anything you wanted as long as you could pay for it. Out here, you had only what you made, hunted, grew, or built. Like the Amish minus the rocking beards and long lady skirts.
But I had to admit, the place had at least one thing going for it. They had freedom from demonic tyranny.
Looking at the sun also reminded me I had only a couple of days left to find the Tears of God and get them back to Ars Goetia to save my people. Nothing quite like working under a deadline. In my youth I normally procrastinated on everything. Term papers, assignments, Blockbuster late fees. You name it. And even later in life I kind of always ran on my own schedule.
But the stakes were too high this time. Too many people were counting on me.
“Where are we going?” TJ asked, and the question brought me back into the present.
“I don’t know yet. Depends on what this Riggs wants to do with us.”
“What if it isn’t good?”
“Then we make a break for it. Chael’s out there, somewhere, preparing the way for us,” I said, using air quotes. “Or so he says. So keep your eyes sharp.”
TJ nodded, maintaining his pace in the caravan. We eventually crossed into First Heaven proper, and the caravan came to a stop. Riggs hopped out of his jeep and walked over to us. The older man placed a hand on The Outrider.
“OK, so here’s your options. You can follow my men in and get some food and rest in a nearby farmer’s lodge while they keep an eye on you. Or you can be thrown in a prison while I figure out what we’re going to do. Based off your story, I’m assuming a hot meal and a some rest beats another jail?”
“You would assume correctly,” I said.
“Good. Follow that jeep,” Riggs said, pointing to the lead vehicle. “Don’t stray. Show some manners and you might just get out of this intact. When I’m ready for you, I’ll send for you.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Why are you being nice to us?” TJ asked.
I had to agree with the kid, even if he was more blunt than I was—if that was possible. “What he said,” I said with a shake of my head.
“Simple. If you are who you say you are, then you’re no friends of the demons. And the enemy of my enemy is my friend. If they’re willing to shell out the credits to hire Vox Contracts, then you might be a very good friend. Time will tell. Go on now, rest up.”
Again, I nodded my thanks. Riggs tapped the top of The Outrider twice, then headed back to his Jeep. Once we were alone, TJ turned to me.
“Do we have time? Aren’t we on a deadline?”
“Yeah, a tight one,” I nodded. “We only have a couple of days. But there is jack-all we can do about it right now. We
can’t exactly say ‘Hey, if you’re harboring an artifact of God, can we steal it?’ So in the meantime, we stay the course. Don’t give them a reason to suspect us.”
TJ nodded. We followed the lead vehicle as instructed. The road was beset on both sides by giant farms and massive earth-moving vehicles spreading some kind of chemical. From the looks of it, it kept the snow off crops and the ground warm, enabling them to farm year-round.
They must have had some kind of incredible tech to keep from stripping the soil of all its nutrients. Must also be some kind of super fertilizer in that stuff they were spreading. Whatever it was, the food looked lush and fresh.
During the wars, mankind developed all types of new chemicals. When you are being attacked by demons, things like the Geneva Convention and ethical testing go right out the window. Point was, new warfare experimentation had interesting side effects. Chemical weapons could grow crops, hair, a third ear, whatever. New tech could replace limbs and organs. Slap a wireless transmitter on just about anything and you had a new product to sell to the masses.
I looked at TJ. While the boy was excited to be driving and seeing the world, he had gone through a lot in very little time. And I felt responsible. Not just for his safety, but for the childhood my presence was tainting. I didn’t know what it was like being a child in the new world. But somewhere deep down, I hopped they could still stay as innocent as possible for as long as they could.
And this poor boy had seen horrible things while he was with me. Hell, since being with me he had been kidnapped, covered in blood and vomit, witnessed multiple murders, and was nearly sacrificed, to name a few highlights.
I hoped he was insulated by youth, by the child’s invincibility complex that turned life and death situations into grand adventures. But there would come a point in life when these memories would come back and literally haunt him.
TJ caught me looking at him. “What?”
“Nothing,” I lied reflexively.
Truth was, my mind also wandered to Jensen. I played out what it was like for him growing up. If he was my son, what kind of man could I call myself if I wasn’t part of his life? That I wasn’t there, even in part, to help raise him and protect him from the monsters?
