I ground my teeth together, frustrated and torn to the brink of madness.
GO YOU COWARD!
I took a step towards the stairs.
The second I did, the massive twin doors behind me groaned open and I quickly spun on my heel and made like I was exiting the temple. I pushed past a group of men coming inside, shaking water from their hair, and walked out into the rain. The waterfall cascading from the pig head above soaked me instantly and I shuddered and hurried down the stairs, gasping for air at my close encounter. I reached the bottom and as my boots touched earth, I leaned over and placed my hands on my knees, calming myself.
“Jesus Christ, that was close,” I muttered. Rain thudded into my back and I slowly stood upright.
“How the hell am I going to do this?” I whispered to the mountain looming before me.
I blinked in the rain as I saw something on the peak.
It was a flash of blue light, just like before, a pinprick that winked out of the gloom once, twice, then vanished again.
What is that?
I shielded my eyes from the rain and squinted at the summit, a triangle slicing into the heavens.
The light never returned.
As new questions rose in my mind, I turned back to the temple. I stared up at the flowing pig head, its great stone jaws vomiting an absurd amount of water. I didn’t want to go back inside. I didn’t want to be around those people.
So I sat down on the stairs, embracing the rain, and watched the mountain.
I stayed like that for hours, the wind slapping my face with an icy palm. I was soaked to the bone and completely numb when I heard my name being called. I turned around and saw Peter walking towards me, shadowed by two hooded men. He was holding something in his arms and I realized it was a robe. He reached the foot of the stairs and extended it out to me.
“Here, take this and put it on. It’s yours now.”
I stood up, shivering, and wordlessly accepted it. The fabric was thick beneath my fingers, red dyes weaving between browns. I slipped it on and welcomed the warmth, the heavy cloth immediately bringing my stiff muscles back to life.
Peter shook his head, “Why are you out here? We couldn’t find you.”
I pulled the hood up to mirror the look of the two men behind Peter. “Just wanted to think for a while in the open air.”
He rolled his shoulders at me, jabbing a thumb behind him. “These are the other two new recruits that are coming with us to see The Pig. This is William and Anthony.” The hooded figures tilted their heads at me and I returned the gesture. Their eyes looked empty, their age written across their faces in thick lines and wrinkles. I guessed their devotion came with a hidden agenda as well. At that age, I could only imagine what easy targets they were for the Pig Born. The Hooves of the Pig offered not only religion, but protection as well.
“I’m Nick,” I said, wrapping my arms around myself. My teeth were chattering and I fought to control the clatter.
Peter had a pack on over his robe and he slid it off and began to pull things out, speaking as he did so. “We’re going to start our journey now. Our path takes us across the plains past the mountain and into the forest. Once we’re through that, we’ll make our way to The Barn. Ryder has set things up with Danny so they know we’re coming. Also, just because we wear the robes doesn’t mean the Pig Born aren’t a threat. Be careful if you spot one. They know not to bother us, but sometimes you’ll get a rogue who doesn’t care. More dangerous than them though are the Suicidals. There’s a group of them that hunts us. They hate everything we stand for. They’re cowards, unable to accept the changes that come with new reality. They want us dead. While we’re in the woods, be vigilant.”
Peter paused and pulled out two thin knives and handed them to William and Anthony, “Take these. You’ll need them if the Suicidals find us.” The two old men looked at one another before accepting the weapons. Their hands shook and I wondered if they could actually kill someone.
“What about me?” I asked.
Peter flipped his robe aside and withdrew my ax. He handed it to me, eyes hard, “Thought you’d want this back. You seemed rather attached to it.”
I tried not to smile as I took it. “Hello again, buddy. Missed you.”
Peter didn’t release his grip, locking eyes with me, “I’m trusting you with this, Nick.”
Jackass.
“You don’t have anything to worry about,” I said, waiting for him to release it. After a second he did.
Oh you shouldn’t have done that, I thought, almost laughing.
“What do we do when we reach The Barn?” one of the old men asked. I thought it was Anthony, but then realized I didn’t give a shit.
“I’ll fill you in once we get there,” Peter said, sliding his pack back on. “And if you three are ready, I think it’s time we were on our way.”
I slung the ax over my shoulder, but paused, my gaze zipping back to the summit of the mountain.
The blue light was flashing again.
“What is that?” I asked, pointing toward the towering gloom.
Peter followed my finger. The light flashed again, nothing more than spark on the snowy slopes.
“I’ve seen that three times now. Is there something up there?”
Peter turned warily back to face me, “We call them the Eyes of the World. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t mention them again.”
“Why? Who’s up there?”
Peter held up a hand, “Nick, I’m warning you. Don’t press it. They leave us alone and we leave them alone. Don’t ask me about it, don’t ask Ryder about it, and especially don’t ask Danny. You want to get on our bad side? Keep probing.”
Questions flooded my mind as the blue light flashed once more then went dark. Don’t ask about it? Why? What were they afraid of? And what did Danny have to do with it? I decided to keep my mouth shut and store my inquires away for another time.
“Let’s go,” Peter said taking the lead.
Soggy earth squishing beneath our feet, we turned our backs on the temple and began to make our way across the long stretch of open plain toward the distant forest. As we walked, I couldn’t help but feel a twist of sickness in my stomach. I didn’t even know if Jess was at the temple, but leaving it behind felt wrong. It felt like I was abandoning her.
You mentally abandoned her years ago.
I shook my head. I wasn’t going to listen to that voice anymore. I was here and everything I did was for her. Everything I did was another step toward reuniting with her. One way or another, I would make it happen.
And so I walked.
Peter didn’t say much and the two older men trailed behind me, huffing and puffing in the rain. We had to stop a few times so they could catch their breath, but Peter never allowed us to stop for very long. He kept his eyes moving, constantly searching for Suicidals. A few fell from the red slices in the sky, like drops of water from the tip of a needle. The wind carried the roar of Pig Born, but it came from a great distance. Regardless, I kept my ax at the ready.
As the miles trailed behind us, I looked toward the mountain over my shoulder. I shivered as I spotted the Needle Fields, a grim vision stretching miserably over acres of dead land. I put the sight where it belonged…behind me.
The forest grew from a thin line to a green wall and when we finally crossed into its dreary belly, I lowered my hood. We marched through the foliage single file, Peter still in the lead. Behind me Anthony and William crashed along, earning irritated looks from our leader. He seemed extremely on edge, like he was expecting something.
Ten minutes later, I found out what.
Through the trees, we began to hear soft calls, simple hoots and whistles that echoed through the dim interior of the woods. My heart began to race and every tree became a statue waiting to kill me. I heard Anthony and William begin to mutter nervously as Peter hurried us along, a curse on his lips.
Never thought I’d wish for Pig Born over Suicidals, I thought, swallowing hard. We
were being hunted. I could feel it. Peter’s cautionary warning at the start of our trek came back to me and I gripped my ax. Shadows began to dance from tree to tree, circling us. They were still far enough away that I couldn’t make out what they were…but I knew. These weren’t monsters. These weren’t Pig Born. These were people, human beings just like me. And they wanted to kill us.
To them, you’re a part of the problem, I thought, you’re part of the evil that infects this place.
Peter was pulling out a machete from his robes, shooting us a look. Be ready.
Those are Suicidals out there, I thought, exhaling slowly as the calls became louder. Those are human beings, just like you, who have had enough. They’re tired of being controlled and hurt. They’re pissed. They’re angry. And they’re coming for you, Nick.
“Fuck,” I whispered, voice not quite steady. Back at the temple, plans of death had come so easily. The Hooves of the Pig were the enemy, the ones holding women hostage and forcing pain and humiliation upon them. Justifying their end was easy, almost welcome.
But this…these were just people.
What are you going to do? They’re almost on you.
And they were. Peter waved us closer to him and we huddled in a small circle, slowly moving forward, a head turned in every direction. Crunching leaves and snapping twigs grew louder and someone laughed from the trees, a piercing shrill climax of hysteria. It sprouted and icy finger along my spine and I shivered.
“There’s six of them, the ones I warned you about,” Peter whispered, sweat standing out on his forehead. He seemed nervous. I didn’t like that.
“What do we do!?” one of the old men asked. William, I think.
Peter clenched his teeth. “We’re going to have to fight them. They’re not going to let us through.”
“Why!? Who are they!?” the other old man asked, voice trembling.
Peter shot him a look. “Weren’t you listening earlier? They’re Suicidals. Now pull yourself together, we’re going to need you.”
The man fell into a fit of babbling panic and Peter abruptly slapped him across the face, bringing a shocked look to the man’s wrinkled features.
“Stop that! If we stay together we can make it out of this. I thought we’d be able to slip through the forest unnoticed if I kept our group small. We’ve done it before. But clearly that hasn’t happened. So put some steel in your fucking spine and get ready!”
As the words left his lips, two men came charging us from the underbrush, teeth bared. They were wielding clubs with angry bits of metal sticking out of them. The four of us spun as one, our weapons drawn and at the ready. My heart slammed into my ribs, my throat an oasis, adrenaline pumping like diesel.
Peter blocked a blow with his machete that had been aimed at one of the old men’s head.
The clash of weapons ignited me into action and I ducked as the other attacker took a swing at my skull. I could hear the other Suicidals circling around us.
William and Anthony backed away, crying out in fear. I shoved one of them to the ground as a spiked club honed in on his head. As the weapon whistled through air, I stepped forward and slammed the blunt end of my ax into the attacker’s stomach. He doubled over, wheezing, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Peter drive his blade through the other man’s throat.
You’re going to die if you don’t kill them, my mind screamed. Just do it, they’ll be reborn somewhere else!
The man before me gained his breath back and stood, throwing me a blazing look of pure violence. I knew I wasn’t actually killing these people, but the act itself would feel the same. Pig Born were easy; I could rationalize that. They weren’t human. But my fellow survivors? People who fought back against this cult of abominations? People who might be looking for their loved ones, just like I was?
They’re not people, a cold voice suddenly muttered from a hidden darkness in my mind, they’re fucking obstacles standing in your way. They’re walking sacks of blood and meat trying to stop you from getting to Jess.
I heard the crash of foliage behind me and I knew the other four were coming.
You’ve come so far. Kill them or you’ll never get to Jess.
The man before me charged, howling, club raised.
Something inside me unlocked and I exhaled, my breath tainted with fury.
I stepped into the man, planting my foot like a baseball player and swung my ax with every ounce of strength I had. The blade plowed into the man’s face with the force of a bullet train and I felt bone erupt, the force shuddering down the length of the handle. Blood exploded from the contact and my attacker dropped like sack of bricks.
“Nick, DUCK!” I heard Peter yell.
I dropped immediately, feeling something whiz past my head. I landed on the man I had just killed, his blood staining my hands.
I welcomed the warmth.
I scrambled to my feet, scooting backwards, and faced my new foes. Peter stood at my side, one hand on my arm helping me up. Anthony and William had scrambled behind us, their knives discarded as panic took them.
Four bulky men faced us, grinning. They wielded the same nasty looking clubs and began to taunt us with them.
“Going to paint to dirt with your brains,” one of them leered, “or maybe we’ll take you with us, show you what it’s like to live in fear.”
Another stepped forward, licking his lips. “You think it’s ok to take defenseless women and make them objects in your sick games? Huh? Not so fun when people fight back is it?”
Sweat and blood ran down my face in streaks as I ground my teeth together. Something was unraveling inside of me, a dark blossom of cold anger and hatred. Who the fuck were these people standing in my way? Did they have any idea what I had fucking gone through to get this far?
“Get the fuck out of our way,” I snarled.
Another of the four laughed. “Not a chance. You see, we have an issue with you and your whole operation, bitch.”
I could see Peter ready himself, chest heaving.
I shook my head at the Suicidals. “I don’t want to do this.”
One of them pointed his club at me, “No one wants to die, Pig lover.”
I bared my teeth, blood staining them. “I meant I don’t want to butcher you, motherfucker.”
That bought me a second of silence and I took it. I threw my ax at one of them and charged the rest. Peter roared at my side and dove into the fray, blade raised. My ax crunched into one of them, the heavy steel head dancing off the side of his skull, dazing him. I targeted another one and tackled him, bringing us breathlessly to the ground. I heard my victim cry out beneath me, his hands reaching for my throat. I batted them away and drove my thumbs deep into his eyes.
His screams satisfied a primal part of me I didn’t know existed.
His face squirt thick gouts of blood as I rolled off the blind man. I got to my knees and punched him in the throat until he stopped moving, my fist numbing in the process.
Suddenly, something hard thudded into my ribs, bringing a howl of pain to my lips. Now on my back, I looked up just in time to dive away as a club came thundering down into the dirt where I had been.
I scrambled to my feet, catching a glimpse of Peter locked into brutal combat, circling a Suicidal. The man who had taken my ax to the head was on his knees, still recovering, hands clutching an angry red spot on his skull. The fourth faced me, brandishing his club for another blow.
I jumped back as my attacker tried to end me, his club reaching for my face. My back struck a tree as the nose of the club kissed the tip of mine. I blinked and the man was swinging again. I ducked and heard the tree take the blow, bark exploding around me. I brought my fist up with all my weight behind it, connecting with the man’s chin. I heard his teeth clank together and he stepped back, momentarily stunned.
I stepped towards him and head butt his nose, bringing fresh screams and pouring blood. He waved his hands at me, backing up further, desperately trying to recover.
I stooped a
nd recovered my ax, the handle slick with blood. Gritting my teeth, I swung it into the man’s stomach. The blade sank into the Suicidal’s guts like warm pudding and I heard him gasp as his insides were pulverized.
I ripped the blade free, bringing with it chunks of meat. Snarling, I buried the wet blade into the side of his neck, ending his life with a sickening thunk!
Before I had a chance to catch my breath, something exploded into me, taking me to the ground. I cried out in pain as a rock crunched into my side, the agony heightened as someone fell on top of me.
I punched out, realizing it was the man who I had dazed. His hands found my throat and he positioned himself over me. He began to squeeze, his fingers like a vice grip. My eyes bulged and I suddenly found I didn’t have any oxygen.
My hands reached to claw at his face, drawing long red lines in his skin, but he never stopped squeezing. A vengeful smile lined his lips, his eyes like hot fire. Darkness began to swirl across my vision as I desperately fought to get him off me.
Suddenly, the man’s grinning face was flying through the air away from me. Blood gurgled like a waterfall onto my face as the headless stump vomited gore. The now lifeless hands lessened their grip and slid off my throat.
I pushed the headless body off me, sputtering and gasping for air. I wiped my eyes and sat up to see Peter leaning over me. His hands were on his knees, his face a battered, bloody mess.
His machete dripped hungrily from his hands. “You ok?” he asked, sucking in lungfuls of air.
I coughed violently and rubbed my throat. I looked behind Peter and saw the last Suicidal, dead and motionless. The forest was silent.
We had survived.
I lay back down, exhaling. Jesus Christ…what the fuck…
I realized my hands were shaking and I squeezed them into fists.
“Nick?”
I closed my eyes. “I’m here….I’m here.”
9
My side burned as we pushed on through the forest. Anthony and William were silent behind me, still stinging from the verbal onslaught Peter had delivered after our skirmish. I let them wallow in their self-pity. Those two pussies had almost watched me die while they pissed themselves. Pathetic.
The Black Farm Page 12
