by Thom Erb
“What was this Chalice thing?” Sam asked. Her eyes wide in anticipation.
“In spiritual terms, it's the perfect coalescence of the celestial Aether, a flame. In physical terms, it was a new born baby, dear Sam. It was a sweet innocent baby girl,” Elton answered with a gentle smile and a faint tear in his eyes.
“Man, that sounds like something out of the Old Testament or Tolkien,” Dex groused, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Yeah, no kidding,” Warren agreed.
“There was truth in both of those stories, young Sirs,” Elton said.
“Elton, what do the baby, the Great Creator, and the whole good versus evil thing have to do with us, and how in the hell did the dead rise?” Warren asked.
“Well, we don’t know exactly how the dead came to rise, but the baby question I can answer,” Elton said. “You see, it’s the magic and power of the baby’s life essence that keeps the evil at bay. The Great Creator, you may know of it by its many names, from many different cultures and times: God, Jehovah, Buddha, Muhammad, Odin, the Great Spirit, Vishnu,” Elton stopped as Dex chortled.
“No way, man! You mean to tell me that God, the all-powerful old dude with the flowing white hair and beard watching over us is behind all this shit?” Dex stood and flailed his thin arms like a man possessed. Or pissed off, Warren thought.
“Well, it’s a little more complicated than that, Dexter, but yes.” Elton kept his tone calm and smiled at Dex. “You see, while the Bible’s creators were well meaning, they, too, were mortal like us all and susceptible to the same maladies. They’re great stories and indeed, many great life lessons can be garnered from the text, but that is not the essence of the Great Creator, no, sir.” Elton’s voice grew louder and echoed off the cinderblock walls.
“So, you are saying the Bible is all bullshit?” Warren asked. He stood up and came alongside Dex.
“No, not at all. All I’m saying is man took it to be very literal, as if God himself came down and wrote the words. That is not the case,” Elton corrected and took another sip.
“Ha! So you are some kind of angel!” Warren grinned, pointing at Elton.
Elton laughed and sipped from his flask. “Well, as I mentioned before, Warren, no, I'm not an angel, I’m a Keeper of the Eternal Flame and Protector of the Children of Light. A bloody long title I agree, but when something is decreed centuries ago, who am I to argue?”
“What happens if these zombies, or whatever they are, get a hold of the Children of Light and they buy the farm?” Warren asked. It all still sounded like some kind of Gary Gygax LSD induced dream, but it was becoming more clear and real.
“Well, if that horrific event were to happen, my young friends, this world, your world, this life as we know it, will cease to be and once again, the light of the world will be extinguished, and demons and devils will rule.” Elton took a long pull of whiskey and his head dropped to his chest.
Silence filled the room. They all looked at each other, and Elton feared he had told them too much and they might not be able to come to grips with it all. The weight of the world now weighed down on each of them. Elton drank and offered comforting smiles, and he knew it was only a few months ago they all had plans for their futures. College, military, work—it was all gone. Their future looked bleak and now one of them held the fate of the world in their hands. The air grew thick and almost unbearable. No one spoke for a very, very long time.
“This is all beyond nuts. I used to love reading and writing this stuff but, man, I never thought I'd be living through it.” Warren took his glasses off his round face, wiped his eyes and placed them back on. “Elton, this sounds even crazier, but what you've been talking about makes total sense to me now.”
Dex's whipped around to face Warren. “Say what?”
“How so, Master Warren?” Elton asked.
Warren struggled for a moment, his face flushed. Maico licked Warren's hand.
“It's perfectly fine, go on,” Elton encouraged.
“Back at home...with my family. After my brother, mom...they got bit. I had to...”
Thunder rolled above the Armory and rattled loose metal that echoed through the assembly room.
“I-I... Before I shot them...” Warren dropped his head to his knees, sobbing.
Sam ran to him and put her arm around him. “It's okay. It's okay.”
He had finally put it all together and he felt an overwhelming rush of shock and rage not having seen it all before now. “They...Mom, Dad, Andy. They had the same red eyes. Attacked me. Rambled on about the Child of Light. I didn't want to. Honestly, I really didn't. How could I have been so stupid to not get it?” Warren's words drowned under a rush of tears. “And, Dex...with Bar-B...Barry. Man, I-I'm so sorry.”
“We've all had to do things,” Sam reassured, stroking Warren's shaggy hair. “It's not your fault. I...I had to...take care of them,” Maico snuggled between them and lapped at Warren's tear streaked cheeks.
Dex coughed. “She's right, man. No worries. Stuff got nuts. What are you going to do?”
His best friend's words made Warren feel a teensy bit better, but he was certain that demon would follow him for as long as he lived.
“In spite of all this...darkness, you have to keep faith.” Sam squeezed Warren and put her hand on his knee. “I'm hoping God,” she looked to Elton, “or this Great Creator has a plan. And as painful as our lives have been, we have to keep up hope there's a brighter day coming. We just have to keep fighting and believing.”
Capt. Al coughed and shifted in his chair. “I remember when the boys and I got pinned down in the Qui Trang Valley, man. I thought we were dead shit. As they say, troops, there ain’t no such thing as an atheist in a foxhole. But after that night and you wake up to find your buddy you’re sharing your dirt hole with had his throat slit, well, it’s hard to find answers and peace in that. I guess what I'm saying is, we've all done shit in shitty circumstance we had no goddamn choice in. Life is just a matter of dodging said shit and hoping you have a big umbrella”
Warren heard the old wounds in the DJ’s gripping words; memories that still stung. Capt. Al was exposing a harsh and difficult memory, rift with an all too familiar with the pain that filled the DJ dressed in his olive drab Army shirt and tie-dyed bandanna.
Maico rubbed against Capt. Al’s leg and rested his fuzzy jowls there while his tail wagged.
“Hey, bro, what's up? Again, I'm not trying to bum you all out; it's just that this world has turned to shit, brothers and sister. Ain't no way of sugar-coating it.” He leaned toward Elton and held his gloved hands out. “No disrespect there, honey, but I don't believe any of this God's great plan, or this Great Creator stuff. All I know is we're born into this spinning world of BS. Deal with it the best we can, try to do no harm, and then, well, we take a Pasadena. You know, we die. And sometimes, kids, it ain't fair. Sometimes you do good all your life and still get hit by a drunk driver on your way home from volunteering at the blind homeless shelter.” Capt. Al turned toward the high windows. “Sorry to be a pain on all of this Aether, magic mumbo jumbo. It's just sometimes the cold hard truth dies, stands up, and then eats your damn face off.”
“Well, thank you, Mr. Sunshine and Puppies,” Arnie quipped.
“It is what it is, bro,” said Capt. Al. “Man, I could use a joint.”
They all kind let out a small laugh, but Warren knew it was more about being uncomfortable than truly finding the DJ's need for weed funny.
Elton watched in silence as the teens comforted one another, and while he was relieved to see that it seemed they believed what he had told them, he wasn't certain they'd be able to handle the deeper, far deadlier truth he had to tell them.
Dex looked at Elton and said, “Okay, Gandalf, why do I feel like there's more to this Revelations-inspired saga?
“Yeah, I have a funny feeling there's more. Come on, you might as well let the other shoe drop, after all.” Warren looked from Dex to Arnie, to Sam, to Capt. Al and finally b
ack to Elton, “What's the worst thing that could happen?”
They all let out exasperated sighs and groans of “Really? Dude? You just cursed us to some seriously bad juju, bro, bad juju!”
“What?” Warren shrugged as the boos continued. Even Maico growled at him.
Finally, Elton nodded. “Very well,” and made a few strange gestures with his hands. It looked like some kind of prayer thing, but Warren wasn't sure of anything anymore.
“Very well, my young friends, and elder statesman and loyal servant.” Elton's gaze fell on each of them before he spoke again. “After all the otherworldly information I've given you tonight, I do believe this bit will test your belief that I am not mad as a bloody hatter.”
“Oh, for crying out loud, quit with the dramatics, dude, what is it?” Dex grumbled.
“I don't know, I'm thinking he's nuttier than a Christmas fruitcake.” Arnie leaned into Dex's ear. “I just dig the way he talks.” He ended with a chuckle. No one else joined in.
Warren sat silent and noticed so did Sam.
Thunder rumbled overhead and the harsh pings of rain on the metal roof created a tense cacophony as they all sat there taking it all in. Elton removed his hat and ran a thin hand through his thickly tangled mane and looked Warren in the eyes.
“I am a Keeper of the Eternal Flame and the Protector of the Children of Light.” He stepped close to Warren. “And you, my young lad, are indeed a Child of Light.”
Warren felt like he'd been dropped down a bottomless well and all senses were lost in a deafening darkness as he tried to assimilate everything this man calling himself a Keeper was dropping on them. Then Elton continued, moving to stand before Sam.
“Holy, shit....no way man,” Arnie said.
“Good lady, Samantha,”
Sam moved away from Elton as he approached. “Yes?”
“The Great Creator and the Aether have spoken and you both are Children of Light. And in grave danger. I need to get you all to safety as fast as possible.”
“Whoa, wait. Grave danger?” Dex said. “Uh, like all those meat-chompers out there aren't dangerous enough? You mean there's something worse?”
Maico whimpered and crawled under the table.
Elton turned to Dex as a bright flash of lightning washed the stranger in a ghostly pale hue. “Yes, Master Dexter. There are far greater evils than the progeny of Orcus heading our way. And they want your best friend and young Samantha here. It is not hyperbole when I say a great evil is descending upon us. We must get them to the Keeper's Hall, post haste.”
“Oh my,” Sam's words were lost in the storm above while Warren stared at the wooden floor of the Armory.
“No shit,” Warren mumbled.
86.
Warning
The United States Armory,
Main Street.
Rochester, New York
If the stranger with the funny hat and hoity, toity British accent had told him the bizarre story before the terrorist attacks, before the dead rose and ate people, Warren would have assuredly called the doctors in white with the big nets to come take him away to the funny farm. Now, it scared him to admit, it made sense.
“I'm okay,” Warren sniffled and put his glasses back on. “Thanks. Are you?”
Sam sat back. “I guess. This is all so crazy.”
“No shit,” Dex said, putting a hand on Warren's shoulder. “I'm here for you, man.”
Warren nodded. “I know. Thank you.”
“Me too, bud,” Arnie chimed in.
“Again, I'm sorry. I know it's such a heavy burden to comprehend, let alone take on. I swear to you, I shall get you safely to the Keeper's Hall as soon as I get some rest.” Elton patted both Warren and Sam on their shoulders and smiled warmly.
“Where is it? Can't we just go now? Hell, we have Warren's Dad's truck,” Dex offered.
Arnie sat up, “Hell, give me a couple hours and I can have that deuce and a half up and running and we can drive over any dead son-of-a-bitch that gets in our way.” He beamed with pride.
Elton looked around the large room and Warren noticed he shivered.
“Sadly, no, it's not that simple. You see the Keeper's Hall is in England, Stonehenge to be more precise.”
Dex paused, started to speak, then paused again. “Stonehenge? How's that even humanly possible? It's a ring of big stones. There's nothing inside Stonehenge but Stonehenge.” His tone filled with exasperation and disbelief.
“What's Stonehenge?” Arnie asked. “Is that where all those cool falls are that we took those girls from Waterloo, to?” He snickered.
“No, man. That’s Stony Brook. Damn. Stonehenge is in England. It's about as far away from here as you can get,” Dex said.
“Oh,” Arnie said.
“Well, Master Dexter, I shall explain it all to you soon. I promise.” Elton walked back to his sleeping bag and sat down. “But for now, you all need to rest. I need to rest to regain my energy. So, I’ll keep watch over you fine lot, whilst you sleep. I shall wake one of you in a bit. You all will need your strength in the oncoming days, so rest your souls.” The light in the room seemed to dim slightly.
Warren said, “Good idea. I could use some sleep. Come on, buddy.” He clapped his hands, and Maico followed; and they both lay down on Warren's sleeping bag without another sound.
“Yeah, not a bad idea at all,” Sam said, and stumbling to a sleeping bag next to Warren and Maico and plopping down.
“Well, guess it's time for shut-eye. You hitting the hay?” Arnie asked Dex.
“In a minute. You go ahead, man.” Dex answered. Warren watched his best friend perch himself on a table, wrapped in a sleeping bag, still casting a watchful eye on Elton. The guy never gives up, Warren thought.
“Okay. Don't have to tell me twice. Night, all.” Arnie slipped into his sleeping bag and soon his soft snores filled the room.
Warren realized Elton was right and despite the nagging curiosity that ate at him, fatigue and drowsiness overtook him. The once inquisitive circle laid down and fell into a deep sleep. The only sounds in the room were that of soft snoring and the rain on the roof.
Before Warren's eyes closed, he caught Elton grabbing his bag; he brought forth two large books and opened them up. Crossing his legs, he took another swig from his flask and began reading. The odd man began to chant a strange language, and the slow, low and monotonous tone helped on Warren on his way to slumber.
87.
Two Different Worlds
The United States Armory,
Main Street.
Rochester, New York
Arnie slipped into a deep slumber fast. After all the good chow the hot girl and Capt. Al prepared for them, how could he not? He dreamed of his mom and dad. More often than not, it was dreams of his mother. When he was little, she would take him down to Red Creek, which ran behind their house, and they would sail newspaper boats they'd made. Some of the smaller, hastily crafted ships would sink immediately, while others, the one's he built, would dare the rushing rapids, and Arnie imagined them sailing all the way to Newark, where they would join up with Erie Canal.
Arnie smiled in his sleep, but he still heard the rushing of Red Creek, and it mixed with the pinging raindrops on the roof above.
Something woke him. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, looking around. Everyone was fast asleep. Elton, the magic-user dude was even snoring; his head slumped to his chest with an old, worn looking book on his lap. It was then that Arnie knew why he woke up. He had to take a leak, bad.
He really didn't want to. The Army sleeping bags were really warm, but he remembered the last time he ignored Nature's call. He, Dex, Frank, Warren, and Jack were partying in Frank's barn and crashing there for the night. Because it was late fall and a heavy frost had landed inside. While they cranked Foreigner, Reo Speedwagon, and Journey tapes until the batteries died on his boom box. About that time, the batteries died for him and his drunken friends as well. Just like now, he'd woken up with an ungodly need to
pee. He fought it off, and still being drunk, he passed back out. He woke up in the morning with urine soaked pants and blankets and a never-ending curse that his vulture-like friends never let him live it down. He decided to get up.
Arnie wrapped the sleeping bag around him and walked softly, as not to wake the others. Maico stirred. His legs ran in his sleep but kept snoring.
There were bathrooms back down the main hallway they came in, so he painstakingly opened the metal doors and they creaked on unused hinges. Shit. Arnie waited...nothing. He smiled, and nearly pissing himself and held his hands over his groin in hopes of keeping the pee from running down his leg. The hallway flashed with intermittent fluorescents from above.
Reaching the bathroom door, he pushed it open. The lights grew bright, flashed twice, then went out.
A loud chug, then a clunk, echoed down the hallway.
“Uh oh,” Arnie said. That's the generator, he thought.
88.
Boom Boom, Out Go the Lights
The United States Armory,
Main Street.
Rochester, New York
The droning hum of the generator abruptly stopped. The spastic flickering of the lights in the gym area ceased. Darkness ruled.
Warren jolted awake. He wasn't sure of the reason, but he found himself sitting up, fumbling for his glasses.
The bright glow of the lights was now gone.
“Dex. Arnie?” Warren called.
“Oh my,” Elton said.
Maico groaned and lay back onto Warren.
