Outlaws of Babylon

by Eugene W. Cundiff

  “By... by Yours…”

  Ric mustered the deepest air from his lungs, and channeled every hellfire-and-brimstone preacher he had ever encountered. He roared his next four words with such force that they echoed throughout the vehicle.

  “THOU SHALT NOT KILL!”

  Benny yelped and cowered. The Six’s hands clasped and his eyes closed, and Ric smelled the stench of the slightly older youth's bladder failing and bowels voiding. He left the Six sobbing for what felt like an eternity, until Benny finally squeaked out a handful of breathless words.

  “I... I... please, oh Lord…”

  “LET NO MAN DECEIVE YOU WITH VAIN WORDS, FOR BECAUSE OF THESE THINGS COMETH THE WRATH OF GOD UPON THE CHILDREN OF DISOBEDIENCE!”

  Benny wailed again, dipping his head even further down in contrition. “I... please oh Lord... please… please have mercy… forgive me my sins… forgive me my sins!”

  “Forgiveness I give you, Benjamin... but amends for your sins you must make.”

  “Anything! Anything oh Lord!”

  “Take this truck unto the gates of those you have wronged. Cast yourself at the feet of the sinner Whitechapel’s daughter. Tell her where her Father and those who profane My blessed name for their own bloodlust and arrogance dwell. And when the leader of their congregation appears in your wake to grant you mercy from those you have wronged, you will know it is My voice with which he will speak to you.”

  Benny nodded vigorously, sobbing and shuddering but saying nothing.

  “Good. Now go unto the land of those you called your enemies and see my Will be done. Heed the words of the False Shepherd and his Fallen Knights no more.”

  “Yes Lord! Yes I will! Thank you! Thank you! Amen!” Benny made a noble show of paying no heed to his soiled trousers as he rose back to take the wheel of the truck. The chastised Six sped his way toward the gates of Sanctuary with remarkable zeal. In the cargo truck behind him, the invisible Californian grinned.

  14

  T.J. was watching the gates while Kurt gathered those of the Sanctuary with mind to fight, so he was the first to see the approaching vehicle. He urgently called down into the courtyard below.

  “Kurt! Kurt it’s the truck!”

  “Truck? T.J. what are you talking about?”

  “The truck you went after earlier, I think! I know it’s a big Fed truck!”

  “I'll just repeat myself here... what are you on about?”

  The younger teen shook his head, turning to look back over his shoulder at the truck as it drew closer. “I don’t know, but it’s coming for the walls fast and –“

  “Rhetorical question, T.J.!”

  “What does rhetorical mean? “

  “I’ll explain later! Everyone on me! Make for the gates! Now!”

  The assembled band of volunteer enforcers formed up in the loose formation, and they followed Kurt as he headed for the wall. They arrived just as the vehicle screeched to a stop, the echoing squeal of brakes in their ears and the stench of burnt rubber in their nostrils. Kurt's eyes flashed with blue fire as he shouted out, prepared to attack if a threat appeared.

  “Ric, that you? Why didn’t you radio and tell us you got out of there on your own, you showboating –“

  The door of the truck opened and a haggard, shaken form wearing a worn black shirt stumbled out of it. Another band of Sanctuary's residents had emerged behind the first gathering by now, fronted by Mory and Jen. It was the Mory that the sobbing, panicking Six stumbled toward, his hands held out in supplication.

  “Please! You... you are his daughter. Please, I was meant to find you I...” Benny had managed only a few short steps toward a bewildered Mory when Kurt’s eyes flashed. The Six was jerked violently into the air and held aloft.

  “You have nothing to say to Mory! Her bastard of a father is not going to hurt her ever again!” A cold look crossed Kurt's face as the light burned brighter in his eyes. Benny wailed as his body was stretched as if upon some invisible rack.

  “Please! I wasn’t sent by the Paladin! I brought you the truck! With all the weapons!”

  Jen cocked her head and drew her pistol. She slipped over, jamming the gun's barrel into the wracked man’s gut. “Then who did send you, you sorry little black-shirted bible-banging son of a –“

  “Enough!”

  Every eye in the crowd shifted to Mory as she barked out the word. She glared at both of her companions, her voice resolute.

  “Put that damned gun away, Jen! And Kurt, let him down right now! We can at least hear what he has to say before we kill someone else in cold blood!”

  Jen hesitated a long moment, but finally lowered her weapon. Kurt waited until the punk stepped away, then lowered Benny down to the cold ground with a surprising gentleness. His eyes remained alight, and his hand remained outstretched in readiness.

  "One false move, Six, and I'll tear you in half."

  “Thank you... thank you oh God my Lord thank you!" Benny scurried away, moving to kneel at Mory's feet. The pale young woman placed a soft hand on his sweaty brow.

  “You’ve risked much to seek me out, and you come to speak and not drag me off, even at the risk of my friends killing you. Which they nearly did.” Mory gave the camp's other leaders another dark look, then turned her eyes back to Benny. "I think the question that comes to mind first and foremost is why?”

  “I’m... I’m Benny...”

  Mory’s voice was soft and kind, but it remained firm. “And why did you seek me out here Benny, if not to attempt to force me back into the imprisonment my father wishes for me?

  Benny mewed and clutched at Mory’s delicate hand, kissing it feverishly. “The Lord... the Lord spoke! A voice from nowhere, condemning me for following the Reverend and the Paladins! For serving the Sixth Day in trying to kill you all! But I’m just a recruit, I swear! I never killed anyone! Oh Christ forgive me, I’m so sorry!”

  “Ssh.”Mory's pale lips pursed softly to make the sound. Her eyes began to glow with soft white light, and she let her powers do their work to soothe Benny. She eased his shredded nerves and drove out tension from muscles and senses, smiling softly. The sensations made Benny look up. He choked and sputtered when saw her eyes alight.

  “You... you’re…?”

  Mory smiled sadly, nodding. “The exact sort of demon that you thought needed destroyed.”

  “Does... did your father know?”

  Mory shook her head heavily, her smile growing pained. “No. As vicious as he was with me, I saw only a slow death in letting him know. And when my wounds began to heal too swiftly for it to be believed I ran, Benny. That is your Paladin. A drunken, broken man who beat his own daughter after long days spent at murder." She shook her head again. "But again, Benny, why did you come here? You said that the Lord God Himself spoke to you?”

  Benny nodded, feebly. “Like unto Paul on the road to Damascus, Miss Whitechapel! He told me to bring these weapons here, and to beg you for forgiveness. I am to tell you where the Sixth Day keeps its stronghold against the Fallen Babylon. If I do all this, He said you would offer me forgiveness and sanctuary, and that I would recognize your leader's voice when he appeared. That I would know that as a sign of His favor."

  “Well, that’s an interesting story.” Ric spoke from behind the gathering, and the crowd swiftly parted for him as he emerged from within the Zero. Benny’s eyes widened.

  “It’s... you speak with His voice!”

  “A tongue of remarkable glibness?” Ric grinned. Benny shook his head.

  “Your voice! Please, are you the leader of this place?”

  Ric continued grinning, quite glad that the poor Six’s attention was so tightly on him. Had Benny seen the confused the looks of the Californian's companions he might have been alerted to the ploy he had been taken by. “Closest thing to, I suppose. I'm not sure why, but this band of nutters fancies me boss, yeah? Any reason you’re squeezing my girlfriend’s hand so tight she may need to grow a new one soon?”

  Benny
gasped and let Mory go quickly, blubbering apologies. She smiled, slipping up to embrace Ric tightly before murmuring in the Californian's ear.

  “Ric, did you have anything to do with this?”

  Ric kissed her once, whispering back. “The Lord works in mysterious ways, sweet Ivory mine. Play along, would you? Maybe get the poor jack a place to rest and change his trousers?”

  Mory nodded softly, returning the kiss with one of her own. Then she slid back over to Benny, offering him her hand. “I forgive you, Benny.”

  Benny’s eyes lit up as he took the offered hand. “Really? You, I mean, how could you?”

  “To err is human, and to forgive divine. Come on, we’ll get you some clean pants and some food. You’re just in time for midday meal, such as it is.

  Benny blubbered out a few more offerings of thanks as he allowed Mory to lead him away, leaving a smirking Ric with Jen and Kurt. The exile regarded the Californian, his eyebrow raised.

  “So, I take it it’s not against your programming to impersonate a deity, then?”

  Ric shrugged, his smile becoming a grin. “When someone asks if you’re a god, Killer…”

  Both men broke into good-natured laughter, the stress of conflict and worry being swept away in the sudden outburst. They headed off after Mory and the Six. Jen shook her head, moving toward the driver's side of the large truck's cab.

  “Mysterious ways my ass.”

  15

  Ric watched the Zero's residents unloaded the arms cache from the vehicle. Jen stood beside him, giddily chattering into his ear. “And once the Six gives up his bosses’ little sleep-away camp and we dispose of him –“

  Ric shook his head. “We’re doing no such thing, Dollface.”

  “What?! C’mon, Boytoy, you know you wanna. You love putting down backwads!”

  “We’re not killing him, Jen.”

  The punk grinned, wickedly. “You're right, we shouldn't kill him. Let’s have Killer do it! I’ve been wondering what would happen if he torqued someone, what with his little gift for making the laws of physics go sit in the corner and –“

  “Kurt’s not going to kill him either. No one is killing him.”

  Jen’s face went slack, and her eyes flashed dangerously. “What… the… shit?”

  “You heard me, Jen. We’re not killing our prisoner. No, wait, we’re not killing our new associate.”

  “I just heard someone who has your voice. I didn’t hear you.”

  “Well, being an expert on myself I’d say there’s fair-compelling evidence to suggest you did.”

  Jen glared at Ric, shaking her head. Her face was livid. “I swear that bloody Irish altar girl has ruined you! It was not too long ago you’d have bled that backwad for all the information he had at gunpoint, then bled him dry from a bullet to the head! And you'd have called it being merciful! But now you’re hopped up on the Jesus Juice that little Slicker bitch is pumping you full of–“

  “Enough!” The force and finality in Ric’s voice left Jen speechless. He grabbed her shoulders tightly, staring her straight in the eyes. “I’m sick to death of listening to this same bullshit, Jen! If you don’t like how this camp’s going to be run under my command? If you can’t reconcile yourself to that and let the past go? That makes you no better than any other damned relic we ever dealt with, from the Preserves on up! You were bored in Free Vegas, you were bored in Appalachia, you wanted to come here first, well before I caved and agreed! You said you wanted a better world, that you wanted greener pastures! But when it comes down to us having a real chance to really do something, to make a real difference, you can’t be bothered to do anything but bitch and complain!”

  “Now jut a damned min-“

  “Shut up and listen, for once! You want to go to the party but you’ve never wanted to pay the piper. And hey, I was okay with that once. But I’ve seen a lot in these past few months, and I’ve done a lot. I’ve realized that I’ve grown up, Jen.”

  The punk glared at him. Her voice grew exasperated.

  “Says the elder statesman, at the ripe old age of nineteen.”

  “Not much older than Joan of Arc was, when she won a century-long war for the long-whipped losers.”

  “So now you’re a divine prophet sent by Heaven, for to guide the lost and the wayward to victory?”

  “No, but I’m willing to move past the ‘tear it down’ stage and on to the ‘build it back up' one. To go from destruction to renewal.”

  “Do you really see renewal in this cesspool?”

  “We’ve discussed this before, as I recall?” The Californians looked to Kurt as he approached them. The exile shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. “I mean, I may not be the best judge since you guys found me pretty soon out of the Preserve. But from what I’ve seen, we’re making a difference here. We’re breaking the cycle, and the chains that it creates. That said?” Kurt then turned his eyes to Ric, wearily. "It is not your duty to fix the world."

  Jen grinned and seemed about to speak when Kurt's gaze shifted to her

  ”But neither are you free to quit trying."

  It was Ric's turn to grin. Jen threw up her hands, fuming.

  “She’s got her hooks into you too!”

  Kurt shook his head. “Jen, I thought your eyes turned pink, not green?”

  The punk's jaw went slack. Ric sighed.

  “He’s right, Jen. And given the look on your face? You know it. You’re jealous.”

  “Of her? Why would I be jealous of her?”

  Ric sighed again. “Just because you have no interest in me romantically Jen? That doesn’t mean you’re not possessive. And this isn’t one of those passing trysts on the road that you’re so fond of.” He shook his head. “Like it, or in your case not, I’m in love with Mory, and she’s in love with me. That doesn’t mean I don’t still love you like the sister you are, you barking loon of a trigger-happy skirt-chaser!”

  “It's just that you love her more, is that it? Enough to start buying into her childish fantasies of love and peace?”

  “I bought into the hope for a better world a long damned time before we had to excuse ourselves from Federal Fundie Fun-Land and go on a road-trip for the record books, Jen. That you think this is some new obsession I picked up to impress a woman? Maybe you never knew me as well as you thought.” Ric shook his head again, turning his back to the punk. "We’re not killing the Six, and that’s not open for discussion.”

  The Californian slipped off into the camp, and Jen slumped.

  “Damn it I need a drink, all of a sudden.”

  “There were a few cans of Preserve Patriot in the truck.” Kurt gestured, and his eyes flashed. One of the beers levitated over from the nearby stacks of looted weapons and supplies to land at Jen’s feet. She smirked as she lifted the can, cracking it open.

  “My hero.” Jen lifted the can up in a toast before taking a long drink. Then she drifted off into Sanctuary as well.

  16

  Benny’s eyes cast about the small shelter of shaped stone and earth Paladin Whitechapel’s daughter had brought him to. He soon realized it was a medical outpost. Crude cots and makeshift beds were laid out in rows, but only the one furthest from the entrance occupied.

  “There’s fresh water and some spare trousers over there, behind the screen. If you want to clean yourself up?”

  Benny nodded and went to make use of both. Glancing over the makeshift privacy screen, he saw Mory begin tending to the building's other occupant. “Who is she?”

  Mory smiled sadly, shaking her head. “Honestly we don’t know. She’s never really become aware since Kurt rescued her from well, from your former friends. T.J. thinks she may be trapped in her own head, some weird effect of the drugs and the abuse on her powers. Wish I knew how to help her. It would mean a lot to Kurt if she pulled back into the waking world, the poor thing.”

  Benny looked at the savaged young woman lying on the cot. He shuddered in revulsion and self-loathing. Mory shook her head softly.<
br />
  “Look now upon the fierce and terrible demon before you, hnn?” Her words were gentle, free of ire or accusation, but that seemed to make them bite deeper into Benny than any barbed tone could have managed.

  “I’ve... I’ve been…”

  “You were lead astray, and then given a second chance. A reprieve from the Lord on High Himself. There must be some reason for it, Benny.”

  “I wish I knew what it was.”

  “We all wish we knew more how our life’s road was meant to go.”

  “Yeah, I... I suppose so.”

  Mory continued tending the needs of her charge as Benny slipped out from behind the curtain. He took a seat a few paces away, watching her quietly.

  “So, you ran away?”

  Mory nodded. “I did. As I said, I couldn’t hope to hide the truth from my esteemed father any longer. He would have eventually come home sober enough one night to have realized the bruises were gone far too swiftly.”

  Benny's shuddered in revulsion. A look of blank, pale-faced horror came to his face. Mory swiftly shook her head, smiling reassuringly.

  “No use in dwelling on the past though. Welcome to Sanctuary, for what that may be worth.”

  Benny nodded softly, his expression confused. “How many demons -" The former Six stopped mid-sentence, chiding himself viciously under his breath. Mory simply continued smiling, motioning for him to continue. He finally obliged.

  “How many of the people here are… like you?”

  “I’d like to think I’m rather unique as a person?”

  Benny shook his head. “Sorry! I meant, how many of the people here have... powers, I guess is the best word?”

  “I knew what you meant, and sorry for having a touch of fun, yeah?" Mory shook her head, chuckling softly. "If there's one thing this bunch of misfits has shown me, is that you have to laugh a little now and then, even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts. Otherwise you’ll go crazy out here.” She sighed, looking to the floor. “Like Father did, by way of example. But as to your question? There’s me, T.J., Kurt, Ric and Jen, and her. That we know of, anyway.”