Keeping Up with the Deadlanders

by J.R. Rodriguez

  *

  The warmth from the balmy August evening gave way to that of the cold and damp night of the Borderlands. The light streaming from the memory box faded and Famine’s eyes slowly became adjusted to the dim candle-lit room of Angelique’s underwater home.

  He was still in too much shock to fully realize where he was at first; the events of what he had just relived burned within his heart and mind with great intensity. He knew who he had been, where he had lived, and how he had died. He could hear the voices of the room’s occupants through a veil of crushing silence. Slowly, the veil lifted and the voices came into auditory focus. The first one he recognized was Ankou’s. It was filled with as much concern as it was dry and raspy.

  “Famine! Boy!”

  He faced his uncle; his tone was tired sounding and distant. “What is it?”

  “Are you okay, child? What was all that?”

  What could he say? He wasn’t sure what everyone else had seen. Did they also relive his last moments on the mortal plane? Or did they just see the intense light? Unsure of how to answer, he closed the box and tucked it under his arm. “Something I should have seen a long time ago.”

  “What a load of old shite,” Angelique fiercely said waking over to where he stood, “let me see what was in that thing!”

  He tried to keep her from grabbing it but was too slow. She snatched it away with annoyance, opened it, and looked in. Her face fell, then twisted in anger. “There’s not a damned thing in this! You’re wasting our time, old man!”

  She threw the box to the ground where it splintered. Famine rushed to where it fell and tenderly picked it up the pieces. “No, there was something in it.”

  “No, it was empty,” Angelique snapped.

  “But I saw some light…” suggested Devon.

  She turned and scowled at him. “I didn’t even see a damn bulb! It was obviously some trick that old fool over there conjured up. He’s trying to save his own dead ass.”

  Ankou stepped forward and pointed. “I didn’t do a thing, woman. You’re just upset because you saw something you couldn’t explain.”

  Angelique pulled Famine by the scruff of his cloak and towards the middle of the room. Ankou and Morrigan rushed forward to help, but Devon stepped in front of them. He produced a long bladed knife from beneath his robes and tossed it to his mother. She proceeded to hold the weapon to Famine’s neck.

  “Enough of this! It’s time to give me what you promised, child!”

  He looked into her green eyes and stared at her full pale face. He knew them well. They belonged to his brother’s killer. The name may have changed but this was the woman who had taken everything he once knew and loved in a matter of seconds. His entire life had become unraveled then gruesomely re-sewn into a tapestry of darkness, coldness, and death. The warmth and comfort that had embraced his body and soul had drowned in that pond two hundred and fifty years ago and there was no getting it back. It was also because of her that all this had happened. Had she left well enough alone, he’d be dead in his grave now with no cares or worries. Real death not the pseudo form he now lived.

  A deep-seated anger rose within him. The same white-hot light that he had felt when fighting The Hunter and those zombies began to resurge. Once again, the sounds of the world around faded and his vision waned. But there was also something else. A small inner voice called from the deep recesses of his mind…it got louder and louder with each passing second. Slowly, it overtook the deafening silence and spoke to him like an old friend. It told him to keep quiet and keep calm. Angelique couldn’t know that he knew who she was. He had to press on. Struggling against the tip of the blade, he nodded and spoke in the same manner in which he had been talking the last hour.

  “Fine, you can have it. Just put the knife down.”

  Angelique smiled, lowered the blade, and tossed it to Devon. Ankou’s face became frozen in a mask of pure terror. He rushed forward but the ghost boy stopped him with his newly acquired weapon. Morrigan threw her arms around him. Tears began to roll down her pale blue face. Angelique turned towards her audience with confidence and poise; her voice was pompous and high.

  “I want you two fools to be witness to the birth of a new power. Together, the boy and I will rule this stinking place with an iron fist. The night will bring the rule of Evangeline!”

  Famine put out his hand and touched her head. A steady pulse of stark white light began to flow from within his chest, down his arm and hand, and into her body. She smiled and laughed as the pulsing became stronger and brighter. Within seconds, she was completely engulfed by a cocoon of hazy luminescence.

  Devon giggled with delight as Ankou and Morrigan helplessly watched. The old man had seen many terrible things in his existence but this was the worst. He knew that the end result would spell the demise of his entire being. At last, Famine let go of Angelique’s head and fell back into a nearby chair. The woman was breathing hard and looking down at her now glowing body. She turned to Devon and laughed maniacally.

  “It’s done, child! It’s done! I have Dead Light!”

  Ankou and Morrigan sidled past the grinning teen and to the obviously tired and drained Famine. They got on either side and began to lift him off the seat.

  “Are you okay?” asked Ankou.

  Famine weakly nodded. “I’m fine, Uncle. I’m fine. I’m just a little weak.”

  Morrigan looked back and forth from him to Angelique. “Why did you do that? Do you realize what you’ve done?”

  “I do, I do,” Famine answered smiling devilishly.

  She stared at him in disbelief. Ankou shook his head as if to say ‘I don’t know what he means’. Devon’s voice brought them both back to the situation at hand.

  “It’s my turn now. I’ve done my part now give me what you promised.”

  “You’ll get it,” Angelique said ecstatically running her hand over her glowing body.

  “Done your part? What do you mean?” asked Famine pushing himself away from his uncle and friend. He was afraid to hear what Devon would say. He had a feeling what it would be and it wouldn’t be what he wanted to hear.

  “Did you really think I was interested in you? Come on. Angelique hired me to get on your good side and make you think I liked you. She needed to know whether or not your Dead Light was real. She needed me to make you turn against your rotting family.”

  Famine’s heart sank. The sadness and pain of knowing what he had lost in human life was now compounded seeing the love of his afterlife being so blatantly truthful. He thought this boy loved him, but he just toyed with his heart. It was a play with an audience of one and feelings had taken a long intermission. “You mean you don’t like me?”

  Devon scoffed. “You have a certain charm, I’ll admit, but it was all a ruse. I have no interest in you whatsoever. You’re too childish for my tastes. Do you know how hard it was to listen to all that whining and complaining? But to answer your question, no, I don’t like you.”

  By now Angelique had stopped admiring herself and strode over to gloat at the three disbelieving Deadlanders. “I hired those zombies to pick a fight with Devon. I knew that it was the only way that I could prove you had Dead Light and gain his attention. You should’ve never have trusted me, you young fool. Did you really think I had changed?”

  Famine wanted to cry. He wanted to beat the hell out of the gloating Devon. In the back of his mind, he thought that he would’ve walked away with the boy when it was all over. Devon’s lying and his contempt hurt worse than not having him at all. He wiped a tear away. “Why did you do this? What did she promise you?”

  “Isn’t it obvious, you young idiot? Power. She promised me some your Dead Light, too.”

  Of course. It was always about power. Angelique walked up behind Devon and rubbed his back. She leaned in and spoke softly in his ear. “And now, dear boy, I’m going to give you what you deserve.”

  His smile quickly turned into a look of pain and terror. Her fisted hand suddenly appeared fr
om within the middle of his chest. Famine, Ankou, and Morrigan gasped in terror and revulsion. After she withdrew her hand, his body went limp. A patch of darkness appeared from the hole in his chest and spread throughout the rest of his body. Angelique stepped back and watched with glee as he screamed one last time. The blackness overtook him and seconds later there was nothing left of the boy once known as Devon. Famine rushed to where he had been standing and touched the air with his hands. He turned back and faced her with disbelief.

  “That wasn’t necessary,” he said hoarsely.

  “Of course it was. I wasn’t going to share with anyone.”

  Ankou and Morrigan joined Famine and they all stood side by side in defiance to her. She gave them a glance, put her hands on her hips, and laughed. “Do you really think you can stop me?”

  “Tell me, Evangeline, what does it feel like to have that power?” asked Famine.

  Angelique stopped laughing and took her hands away from her hips. She opened her mouth to speak but didn’t. Famine went on. “That’s right, I know who you are. I remember what you did. It was all in that box. When I opened it, it all came back. But I still don’t hold a grudge. Just tell us how you feel.”

  She waltzed up and down the length of the room and gestured dramatically with her hands. “It’s feels wonderful! I can see everything! I know all the internal workings of the entire universe. I can see into every corner of known existence. I can feel every emotion of every being in every point of time! I feel like a god!”

  “Anything else?” asked Famine.

  Angelique spun around. She looked perplexed. “Should there be?”

  She had no sooner spoken when she grabbed her head and grimaced in pain. Her eyes registered panic and fear. She looked at Famine with teary confused eyes.“Ah, yes, there was something I forgot to mention…”

  “What?” she asked before screaming in agony and going down on her knees.

  “You were once like me, Evangeline Parish. You were human. You see…the human mind can’t take the power that you have. The Reaper gave it to me because he made me. I can handle it because…like you said…I am of the Reaper. You are not!”

  “No,” screamed holding onto her head, “this can’t be! I’m a god! I’m like you!”

  Ankou and Morrigan had inched their way behind Famine and were looking at Angelique with wonder. They didn’t ask any questions because they knew Famine would answer them as he was answering the agonized woman.

  “No, you’re nothing like me. I knew that you couldn’t handle it and that’s why I let you have it. You see, I do hold a grudge, you miserable stinking bitch! You took from me something I loved very dearly. Did you really think you could get away? The Reaper was merciful. I am not! I’m just finishing something I started two hundred and fifty years ago. I’m going to stand here and watch you die as I watched Andre die.”

  Angelique screamed again. Viscous clear sludge began to weep from her eyes. The flesh on her face began to bubble and crack. Thick black and green ichors poured from the wounds and streamed down her neck and body. As she dragged her hand alongside her face, a great swath of skin pulled away. Dull bone shone through, revealing the wound that The Reaper had given her many years back.

  Ankou and Morrigan watched the transformation in fascinated horror. The once strong and proud woman was now nothing more than a melting mess. The look on Famine’s face was even more terrifying: he was smiling and gloating at her misery. The room began to shake violently. Chunks of ceiling began to fall into the room, torrents of water rushing in after them. The floor was soon covered knee-deep in it. Ankou grabbed Morrigan’s hand and started to pull her towards the entrance. She resisted and called out to Famine.

  “Come on! We have to get out of here!”

  He waved her off and stared down on the dying Angelique. By now, all the flesh had been stripped from her face. Nothing remained but bone. Her eyes had gone black and they oozed from their sockets. The once luxurious red hair fell off her head in sludge-covered clumps at her side, her voice sounded like she was talking through water.

  “Please help me. Make it stop.”

  “No. I can’t help you…nor would I if I could. You wanted the power of Death and now you have it. Death is a power beyond the scope of mere human minds. I’m no longer human. I now know and control it. You never will. In a way, it’s your own fault. Had you not taken my life that day, you wouldn’t be here begging me for your life. Consider it a lesson. Good-bye Evangeline Parish. May your energies never know rest."

  By now, the room was waist deep in cold dark water. The walls exploded with rivers of thick mud and pieces of stone. The furniture floated and bumped blindly around like it was doing a bizarre synchronized swim. All but a few candles remained lit, and everything was thrown into a murky darkness. Famine trudged his way thought the mess and towards the entrance. He turned one last time to survey the damage. Angelique tried to scream but nothing came out but a gurgle; she fell backwards into the rising waters. As Famine made his way up the tunnel and towards the light at the end, the entire ceiling collapsed and the lake overtook the room.

  When he emerged from the tunnel, he found Ankou and Morrigan waiting for him, leaning on a sleek silver machine that he had never seen. The Banshee was on an equally strange communication device talking very fast. He’d have to ask about all this later. Right now, he just wanted to get home and rest.

  When the trio saw him, they all ran over talking at once. He put up a hand to silence everyone. “I’m okay, I’m okay. Angelique…or Evangeline…or whoever the hell she was is dead. She has an even better view of the lake now.”

  They all glanced at the lake. A large swirling vortex took up much of its center. A large portion of the bank was now showing and a few unfortunate fish flopped around on the exposed earth. Morrigan embraced her friend and kissed his cheek. “I’m so glad to have you back.”

  He hugged her back and nodded. “It’s good to be back. I’m just so confused right now. It’s been too much.”

  The Banshee walked over and patted his shoulder. “You’re a strong boy, you’ll be fine. You have people here who care about you. They’ll…I mean…we’ll help you through it.”

  “You can bet your narrow ass on that!” Ankou said enthusiastically.

  Famine began to laugh. It was good to hear his uncle cuss uncharacteristically like that. It meant he was back in a world he knew and loved. It also meant he had a lot to integrate. Knowing his past, he hoped, would help him exist in The Deadlands. He looked t them all through misty eyes.

  “Could we go for some iced screams?”

  “Of course, I know a great little place run by some nice mummies,” The Banshee said excitedly as she waked towards her car.

  Morrigan looked down at Famine’s mired clothes. “You’re not exactly dressed for an outing, honey.”

  “Let them talk, right Uncle Ankou?”

  “Yeah! We’ll have quite the story to tell them!”

  The three of them got into The Banshee’s car and it sped off towards the Borderlands. In the backseat, Famine turned to Morrigan. He put his wet hand on her dress and spoke timidly. “I’m sorry I acted the way I did. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Please, sweetie, it’s okay. I know that you weren’t yourself. I didn’t take any of that stuff you said seriously. You just need to get home and rest, you’ve been through a lot.”

  “But I feel so bad for what I did…”

  Morrigan sighed and patted her friend’s hand. “You have to work through it all I’m afraid. It’s going to be tough but I know you’re strong enough to do it.”

  Famine feebly nodded and rested his head on the back of the seat. He looked up in the sky and saw that the clouds had parted and faded. The sun shined brightly on the earth and the air almost alive with vibrant color. The storm was over.