He and Blake were silent as they started down the road towards home.
*****
Prospect Circle.
It was a lonely cul de sac at the far end of a long country road that few people lived on, and only a few more ever visited. Unlike Prospect Circle, the country road leading to it saw considerable traffic over the years. You could tell because the pavement was still smooth, and fresh. A road traveled heavily is maintained often. A road traveled heavily by rich parents and their children while on the way to or from Auburn Lake Preparatory Academy was taken care of especially. ALPA was known now as frequently as Bastion, home of Adrian and Blake, and the rag-tag band of survivors that Adrian had taken in.
Prospect Circle was a side note in the days before June 23rd. It was plowed late when it snowed, and the residents there never saw a police cruiser unless they called for one. It had a handful of nice homes, and decent cars, but otherwise was just another small loop of pavement surrounded by houses that anyone working a decent job could’ve lived in. But Prospect Circle was special to Adrian. The last home; the nicest home, the one at the far end of the large round circle of pavement was the home of Gilbert Donohue, his aged mentor, and trusted advisor. Gilbert had killed himself last June. More accurately, Gilbert had asked young Abigail, one of the survivors at ALPA to shoot him for treason, and to give him peace. All the time Adrian had known the elderly man Gilbert had been under the sway of pure evil, trying to turn all events against Adrian in an attempt to thwart him, and his supposed task to right humanity once more. Gilbert had taken a .45 slug to the face rather than continue to work against his friend.
Adrian had long since forgiven Gilbert, but he had a dream of Gilbert after his death, and in it, Gilbert had told Adrian that he was still a part of the plan, and that he was now free of the tethers of the darkness that was overwhelming the world with a flood of the undead. Adrian felt Gilbert was in this dream world, and he knew Gilbert would be close to where he died.
Prospect Circle.
Adrian and Blake turned down the street, and kept walking. They had a house call on a friend to make.
*****
Adrian walked up on the porch of Gilbert’s home and knocked loudly on the screen door. The door had the original wooden barricades on it that Gilbert had built two Junes ago to ward off the dead. As Adrian remembered it, the house had only fended off a scant number of dead. Gilbert was rarely the target of the undead wrath. Adrian supposed that was just the Devil taking care of his own.
From the steps in front of the porch Adrian closed his eyes and concentrated on his best memories of Gilbert. He remembered sitting quietly in folding lawn chairs on the shore of Auburn Lake nearby, sipping a bottle of expensive whiskey they had looted from a deserted home. Adrian remembered Gilbert’s long war stories of his time as a Green Beret in Vietnam. Adrian’s lips quivered when the emotions came to him.
“Don’t be a little bitch. You need to be stronger than that. Don’t spill a tear over me. Save it for something that matters,” the voice of an older man said quietly from the porch.
Adrian’s eyes popped open to take in the speaker. It was Gilbert, standing on the porch with his skinny old arms folded, smiling.
“Hey old man,” Adrian said softly.
“Son,” Gilbert said warmly with a wry smile.
Blake was behind Adrian, and while not as close to Gilbert as Adrian was, Blake had formed an intense friendship with the old man as well. He stepped up beside Adrian, tears already in his eyes. “Gilbert. I named my son after you two. Adrian Gilbert Miller.”
“I heard. Mighty fine gesture of you. I don’t think I deserve to have any child named after me, but Adrian certainly is a good name to give him. I certainly hope your son isn’t as much of a pain in the ass to you as I was to my folks when I was growing up.” Gilbert smiled mischievously, his thin white hair swaying gently in the soft breeze of the faux summer day.
“He’s a prince. Couldn’t ask for a better kid,” Blake beamed.
Gilbert nodded in that way old people do. Blake felt Gilbert’s approval, and the tears of happiness came running down his face.
“You know why we’re here?” Adrian asked Gilbert through the thin screen of the door.
Gilbert nodded again, in that way worried people do. “Yep. You need intelligence from behind enemy lines eh? Time to get the real skinny.”
Adrian exhaled and nodded. He was barely holding it together in the presence of the old man he loved and missed so. “Yeah. I’m starting to make sense of some of it, but I need to confirm some things. I knew I could find you here.”
Gilbert’s mouth spread into a wide and proud grin. “Son, what you don’t understand yet, is you probably have the power to find anyone, wherever you damn well please in this place. You’re a king among men here more so than in the real world, and you’re something special there.”
Adrian was confused. “I don’t get what you’re getting at.”
Gilbert nodded once more, in that way a parent nods at a child that doesn’t quite understand something. “Well, I’d invite you in for coffee, but there ain’t nothing to eat or drink here. How about a long talk at the kitchen table? I’ll spell as much out as we’ve been able to decipher.”
Gilbert pushed the screen door open and stepped aside as the two younger men came in, happy to be with their friend and ally.
*****
Gilbert folded his liver spotted fingers into each other and started talking in a low, somber tone to the two men, “It seems like whoever runs the show has gotten awfully fed up with us. Somewhere else, probably Africa, or Europe, this all started. I haven’t met a soul yet that knows for sure, but I’d bet it was Africa. You saw how it spread. It was biblical wild fire straight from the Old Testament, and I do mean exactly that.
We’re being judged Adrian. One last pass or fail test for us to get our shit right, or God, or Allah, or Buddha, or Mother Earth punches our pink slip, and sends us off into oblivion forever. No more people on this blue and green ball floating in space. The great cosmic mulligan, and we’re the score getting wiped off the card.”
“So God is behind this? He’s the one manipulating everything behind the scenes? What a shit God. Seriously. Who would do this?” Adrian said bitterly.
“It’s not that simple, you’re glossing things over, missing some of the trees in the middle of that big forest. I’m not saying God is doing this. That’s far too simple an explanation. This is so much bigger than just that. It’s hard to explain. Complicated. There are a lot of rules, and some stuff I can’t tell you, because I think I’ll break the rules, and throw the whole judgment into disarray.”
“Now you’re just fucking with me. Cut to the stuff Gilbert. Make this all make some sense to me before this pain in my neck kills me.” Adrian rested his forehead in his hands and calmed himself. He rubbed at the spot that gave him the most concern. It was like scratching at a scab, but he couldn't quite find it for the satisfaction.
“Let’s assume God is doing this, because that’s one word we can all understand. God gives us free will, and lets us do as we wish. Instead of being good people, and helping one another, and being responsible with this world, we do the exact opposite, almost running the joint into the ground, being complete asses to each other the whole time to boot. God sits up one day, scratches his ass a few times, realizes we’re worthless mistakes and decides that we need a wakeup call. One last chance to redeem ourselves and prove that we are worthy of this world.
It’s in the bible as well as the Koran. Hell, I’d bet if you dig far enough, almost every religion in the world has some kind of judgment day myth. Except there’s one problem. This ain’t no damn myth, it’s really happening.
So God sits up in his big bed in the sky, and says, 'I’ve had enough of this shit,' and says, 'if they don’t get their crap together right now, I’m wiping this slate clean, and starting again.' So to do this, he sets evil free on the world. Call it the Devil, or Evil, or the Lacuna, or wh
atever, but he NEEDS a force to run this Armageddon. He can’t do it on his own. If he did, he’d immediately just wipe up the floor with us. Part of being infallible I suppose. That or he just wants someone else to do the dirty work while he sits back and keeps a good eye on the players in the game.
So God creates a force that exists solely to kill us all, and tempt those that survive into ruin. A foe, a nemesis, a big old bad guy. The darkness. You know what I’m talking about don’t you Adrian? You can feel it. It's here now, muddling it all up. And all those dead folks up and walking around eating other people, they’re under the sway of the dark one. They are powered by pure evil, preserved by pure evil, and they seek to eliminate us all, with no regard to who you are. He can send them to and fro to do his bidding. A whole planet full of evil minions that it can control as needed.”
Adrian nodded as Gilbert continued.
“So God makes this great arch enemy for mankind. One incredibly powerful force whose single motivation is to decimate mankind’s redeeming qualities, kill us all, or force us down the road to moral ruin. Except there’s a catch. For whatever reason, God believes there is power in numbers, and he also believes that it would be impossible for evil to turn every single person over to being what he wants out of us. So God says the deal is that evil has to turn just a few people, a small number of people. A sample size. Three people to be exact. If evil can turn those three people, if evil can make them into bad folk, and force them to give up their redeeming qualities, then evil wins, and God gives up all hope for mankind.
Adrian, you are one of the three people. You are one of the Trinity.”
Adrian snorted, “Horseshit. What’s so goddamn special about me that I get to be the one who decides if mankind lives or dies? Gilbert I am not strong enough. I’m not smart enough, and I didn’t ask for this.” Adrian’s fists balled angrily.
“That’s the exact point. Adrian you’re every man. You’re flawed. You are not perfect. You're arrogant. You have made mistakes. You have regrets, but most importantly, you can change. And you have. More than you understand, Son. You care. You are willing to die for your fellow man, especially those you care for, and if you can be broken, then all of humanity can be broken, and there’s no hope for the rest of us.
But you can’t understand who you are as well yet. Turns out you are stronger than most. Smarter than most. Tougher than most. Just enough. I have faith in you Adrian, and I didn’t have faith in God. And just because you didn’t ask for it, doesn’t mean you aren’t capable of getting this damn job done. Son, there is no one else I’d rather have the whole of humanity riding on than you. I know that’s a big, bitter pill to swallow, but you gotta cowboy up and get this shit done. I know there’s no quit in you. It’s time to do the impossible.”
Adrian and Blake sat there quietly for a good long time.
Adrian cried.
*****
“Who is the Trinity? I’m one of them, who are the other two?” Adrian asked as the men walked around in the freshly trimmed grass in Gilbert’s backyard. The smell of the clippings was a familiar scent of summer. None of the men could recall how they got outside.
“One is a girl. I don’t know who the other one is yet. She’s pretty. She seems smart too. I think you’d like her,” Gilbert said with a smile and a wink as he stuffed his hands in his pants pockets. His pants were at least one size too large, and held up only by the salvaged suspenders he wore.
Adrian smiled. “I’m involved Gilbert.”
“I wish you the best, but all good things come to an end Son. I’m just saying you’d like her.”
“Thanks for the heads up I guess. What’s her name, what does she look like? What's her story?”
“She’s tallish, blonde I think. Pretty. I can’t say her name, that’s against the rules,” Gilbert said as they walked.
“These are shitty rules,” Adrian said.
“Agreed, but they are meant to keep things fair. Or fair-ish,” Gilbert said dismissively. He had the wisdom to know not to fight a battle that couldn't be won.
“Yeah, whatever.”
Gilbert smiled at the young man he cared for so much. His burden was tremendous, and he knew Adrian would struggle with it. “She’s called the Savior. Sort of a title of what she’s meant to do in the role of the Trinity. The other person is called the Warden. He’s the protector. You’re the Soul, or the Scribe. Your little diary there, that’s an important part of this. When this is all said and done, it’ll be important that you recorded all this for others to read.”
“Um, yeah not sharing that with anyone. Sorry to disappoint.”
“Too late kiddo. You already have. Abby has read it all, every dirty secret in it already. And she’s writing for you right now. She’s taken the mantle of Scribe while you’re here, hurt. We need to get you back though. The fact that she’s taken on even just a little of your job in this might mean evil will focus on her. She’s in great danger Adrian. More than any of us can realize. She isn’t ready to handle it like you are. She’s still just a kid.”
The pit of Adrian’s stomach dropped as he turned and looked over the trees towards the private school where Abby was in the real world. He thought of her tiny eighteen year old frame, sitting on her bed, typing away on his laptop, writing her thoughts in the project he’d only started to maintain his sanity. He had flashes of violence in his mind as he envisioned the campus being surrounded by another mob of undead, biting, scratching, and clawing their way past the gates they’d built.
“How do I get home? How do we get Blake home? I’d feel better about all this if Blake was back there to help protect her. Bring news of what’s going on back as well.” Adrian stopped walking, and the other two men stopped with him.
“Yeah, how can we get back? Even just one of us,” Blake asked almost pleadingly.
“Well, I think you two are in very different places, even though you’re both right here, right now. Adrian your body is still messed up, and until it is fixed, I think you’re stuck here. I think the powers-that-be have you in a holding pattern until your body is ready to take your soul back, or whatever. Blake though, your body should be fine enough. Something else is keeping you here. What happened when you first arrived here?”
“I was in this weird, cold, dark place. Everything was gray, and it felt like I was walking in sand or something. I kept walking until finally I was on the streets. I don’t even remember how I got onto the street. It was weird,” Blake said with a distant fear in his eyes.
Gilbert’s eyes narrowed. “That makes some sense. That’s the dark. That’s the Lacuna. That’s where evil drags you to manipulate you. I’d bet a dollar he was ready to make a run at you to go after Adrian. Not sure how you slipped out first. I bet a little bit of you is still there. I bet that sumbitch marked you, tagged you and has a leash on you to keep you from getting away again. You might have to fight that bastard or one of his minions to get your bits back. Put Humpty Dumpty back together again.”
“Fight the Devil, on his own turf? Are you fucking insane?” Adrian blurted.
Gilbert faced the man with the Mohawk. “Adrian you don’t get it. That’s your damn job. You are here to make that stand for all of us. You and the Trinity, you’re meant to take the fight to evil, and show that motherfucker we are not to be abandoned by God. Show him we will stand up to what’s wrong in this world, and what’s wrong with us. If anyone, anywhere CAN take the fight to that prick on his home turf, it’s you. Besides, I’d bet if you challenged that conniving bitch, he’d just send someone out to take the fall for you anyway.
Adrian, he’s scared of you. Petrified. Why do you think evil has gone to such great lengths to ensure your failure? Your struggles are no accident.”
“Alright. So be it then. I don’t want to walk all the goddamn way back to where we met. It took us weeks to get to here. Maybe a fucking month. I don’t think we have that kind of time. Blake's body was in pretty bad shape when I went down,” Adrian said, a small amount
of frustration and fear in his voice.
“Son. Oh kid. You still don’t get it. This ain’t the real world. If you want to be in Paris right now, dream it. If you want to walk on the sun, dream it. It takes a dozen of us to dream some simple things, but you’re the fucking Soul kid. The keystone. The sparkplug. The Dick Clark of the Bandstand. The single most important person in the scheme of things. If you want to dream something, it will happen. Dream of the Lacuna, and you’ll be in the Lacuna. Dream it. Dream big.”
“Go big or go home, eh?” Adrian mused.
“Now you’re getting it,” Gilbert said proudly.
“What about people? Can I dream of people and they’ll show up like you did?” Adrian suddenly had hope spring to mind.
“Yep, but be mighty careful. Some folks you just shouldn’t dream of. Some folks are just bad dreams Adrian. And remember, you can’t dream of the living. I shudder to think what might happen if you dreamt of someone still alive. It might be a real bad dream for them, if you get my drift.”
“I want to dream of Cassie.”
Gilbert winced visibly. “I knew you were going to say that. Son, I don’t want to disappoint you, but I think that dream is best left for a long time from now,” Gilbert said sadly.
“Why? Is she still alive? Tell me she’s still alive.”
Gilbert looked at Adrian with serious and sad eyes, and slowly shook his head. “Adrian, she’s gone. She died on that day. One of the first to go in fact. The Devil took that playing piece for himself early.”
“The Devil has her?” Adrian’s tone suddenly changed. He wasn’t afraid anymore. He was suddenly very angry.
“He’s got her I think. As much as he can. I imagine it’s a lot like what’s happening with our dear Blake. He has her off the playing board. Trapped. He’s got something planned special for her. He’s keeping her from you. Keeping her from helping you. I’m sorry Son. I think the only way to set her free is to see this to the end. If you can take the fight to him now, and free up Blake so he can go home, that’s one more step on the path to getting this damn ordeal over with.”
Adrian's Undead Diary (Book 7): The Trinity Page 18
