by Amy Cross
“Are you okay, kid?” he asks, stepping around her. “You look like skin and bones. Have you just been starving here, with no-one to help you? Did your Mommy and Daddy die?”
The girl tries again to speak, but this time only a faint sigh emerges, disturbing the dust that has settled on her lips.
“Oh, you're too fucking far gone,” Thomas continues. “Sorry, kid, but I don't think there's anything I can do for you except...”
He looks around, before taking a knife from one of the counters.
“You don't want to be left here in pain, do you?” he asks, crouching next to her. He pauses, watching as she continues to twitch slightly. “I should do this,” he continues. “I should know how it feels to end a life, and you're clearly way past the point where you can be helped. How long have you been all alone here like this? Days at least, maybe a week or more? That's fucking awful, dude. No-one should have to endure such absolute fucking pain.” Another pause, and then he places the blade against her neck. “How old are you? Seven? Eight? Clearly too fucking young to go through this misery.”
She gasps again, and she seems a little more agitated now, as if she's scared.
“My name is Thomas,” he tells her. “Before all this shit went down, do you know what I did with my days? I worked a fucking mind-numbing job making fucking sandwiches for fucking loathsome customers in a little town. I was nothing, and I was going to end up living a worthless, meaningless life. But then when everything changed, I felt something stirring in my soul. A kind of...”
He pauses.
“Greatness,” he adds finally. “In this world, with conventional civilization ruined and tattered, suddenly I have something to offer. Suddenly I can lead other people to enlightenment. I see that now. I can be a prophet of the new dawn. But that's a huge responsibility, and one of the things I have to do is... I have to keep bettering myself, and proving myself, and I think God has put you here in this room specifically for me. In his infinite wisdom, God is signaling me, showing me that he has faith in me and asking me to pass this test. God wants me to help you.”
He closes his eyes.
“Give me the strength to do this,” he whispers. “I'm not talking to God now. I'm talking to my inner self, to the part of me that makes me who I really am, deep down. Give me the strength to kill this little girl and end her suffering, and to show myself that I have what it takes to lead. Give me the strength to recognize that I'm a leader, and to achieve my full potential. Let me prove myself God as he silently watches.”
He sits in silence for a moment.
The girl is still letting out a series of gasps.
Suddenly Thomas slices the knife through her throat. She shudders and gurgles, with blood spraying from the wound, and I step back to keep from getting dirty. Letting out a low whimper, I wait as the girl's body continues to shake, and it takes a few minutes before she finally falls still. Even then, Thomas stays completely still and silent for a little while longer, before sighing and tossing the knife to the ground.
“Fuck, that was intense,” he says finally, getting to his feet and turning to me with a faint, nervous smile. “I had to do it, though. I couldn't let Melissa be the only one who knows what it's like to kill. I needed to break my duck, yeah? I needed to pop my killing cherry and become a man.” He steps over the girl's corpse and crouches next to me, and after a moment he looks toward the dead girl. “It's a thing of beauty, isn't it? I feel more alive than ever. This new collapsed world really suits me, Hannibal. I never would've got to experience this feeling in the old world. You're lucky. You just witnessed my rebirth.”
I take a step back, wanting to get away from the girl and from Thomas, but he grabs my collar and hauls me closer.
“Not so fast,” he says firmly. “I didn't tell you to leave, did I? You need toughening up, my friend. I still see fear and weakness in your eyes. If you're gonna be the faithful hound at the side of a great leader, you need to look the part.”
He pauses, watching me intently, and finally I have no choice but to turn away.
Suddenly he yanks me forward and pushes my face down toward the puddle of blood. I try to turn, but he's too strong and I can't fight back as he smears my chin and the side of my face against the ground. By the time he lets go and I pull away, the girl's blood is soaked into my fur and its rich scent is filling my nostrils.
“That'll be good for you,” he says with a smile, before reaching down and dipping his fingers into the blood. “It's good both all of us.” He wipes some of the blood across his upper lip. “We have to be less scared of death now.”
Getting to his feet, he takes a few steps away before stopping with his back to me, framed against the dusty window. Slowly, he raises his arms to the sides, and I can see dust drifting between his fingers.
“I have to lead the people,” he continues after a moment, his voice filled with a sense of wonder. “I have to take them to a promised land.”
He pauses, before turning and looking down at the girl's corpse.
“I've got a fucking wicked idea!” he says suddenly, grinning wildly. “A fucking amazing idea!”
Chapter Thirty-Five
I was hoping that we'd leave the town, but instead Thomas and the others decide to spend the night in a large building overlooking the main square. One side of the building has been badly burned, but the rest is intact. They've got alcohol and food, scavenged from local stores, and they seem excited. As they continue to drink, they become louder and more animated, and a couple of fights even break out. Thomas remains in charge, though, and the others seem to be recognizing more and more that he's the leader of their pack.
I keep back as much as possible, resting on the floor near a makeshift fire that has been lit near the window. The girl's blood has dried in the fur around my mouth, but the scent is still too strong to ignore and my heart is pounding. I can't even remember what it felt like in the days when I wasn't constantly scared.
“Welcome to the end of the fucking world!” Thomas screams suddenly, raising his arms with a bottle of whiskey in each hand. “Bow down before me, my brothers and sisters, and I shall lead you to the promised land!”
Alex and the others stumble over to him and then get down onto their knees, while shouting Thomas's name over and over. Melissa seems more cautious, preferring to hang back at the edge of the room and simply watch.
“Fuck that stupid rendezvous point at the Rarrah Valley,” Thomas continues, before taking a swig of whiskey and then burping. “That was a fucking waste of everyone's time. The old prophets, the ones who pontificated across the airwaves from their Washington homes, were leading us all wrong. The new order isn't gonna be about trying to put the world back together. No fucking way. From this day on, we create our own fucking civilization, and I know the way.”
“Amen!” Alex shrieks, before bursting into a giggling fit.
“I haven't led any of you wrong so far,” Thomas adds, “and I promise you, everything will be okay if you stick with me. We're in a new world now, a world where the human race survives thanks to quality rather than quantity. Never again will we create cities that swarm with unnecessary populations. Humanity is gonna be more focused, more refined. Better. And do you know what else?”
He pauses.
“What?” Alex asks plaintively.
“We're gonna fucking blow this joint apart,” Thomas continues, swaying slightly as he drinks from the whiskey bottle again. Once he's done, he gasps and wipes his lips. “We're the new generation now. We're gonna seize the world and make it better, but first...”
He pauses, before stepping over to the fire and wrapping some cloth around his hand. Reaching down, he picks up a long piece of metal, the tip of which has been resting in the flames for the past few minutes.
“What's that?” Alex asks with a nervous smile.
Thomas stares at the metal tip, which is shaped in a wavy pattern. After a moment he glances at me, and I can see the confidence in his eyes. Finally, he tu
rns to the others.
“I need each and every one of you to prove that you're committed to the cause,” he explains, and now his eyes are blinking rapidly. “That's why, when I found this interesting chunk of metal, I realized it'd be the perfect way to brand ourselves. To mark ourselves.”
“You're wasted,” Alex says with a smile, taking another sip of whiskey. “We're not fucking cattle, dude.”
“We're animals,” Thomas replies. “Absolutely, we are animals. The best animals, the strongest animals, but still animals. We need to remember that, so that we don't make the same mistakes as everyone who came before us. I've seen the light, my friends, and I know how the human race must continue. We can rise from the ashes of this disaster and become stronger than ever before, but first we need to recognize the terrible mistakes of our ancestors. And don't worry, I'm going to be the first to mark myself.”
“Like...” Alex pauses. “With actual fire?”
“With actual fire,” Thomas whispers, staring at the red-hot metal with a hint of wonder in his eyes. “It was fire that allowed mankind to master the world the first time, and it will be fire that allows us to master everything around us again. And do you know what else? There will be no pain.”
With that, he presses the metal tip against his hand. His face remains completely calm, completely devoid of all emotion, as his flesh burns. He keeps the tip in place for a few more seconds before finally he pulls it away.
“There,” he whispers, holding his hand up to reveal the red mark. “I did it! I felt the pain, but I told myself to focus on the pleasure instead. Now I want every last one of you fuckers to follow!”
Even above the scent of the girl's blood on my face, I can smell Thomas's burned flesh.
“And just to make you feel better...”
He heads over to the corner and picks up a cotton bag, stained with blood. I let out a faint whimper, already knowing what's coming, and I watch as he carefully takes the little girl's severed head from the bag.
“Fuck!” Alex hisses, and the others seem shocked too.
Except Melissa.
She simply watches.
A few fresh dribbles of blood run from the girl's neck and spatter against the floor.
“Let a child of the old world observe our ritual,” Thomas says with a sense of awe in his voice, as he places the head on a chair.
“Dude, that's sick!” Alex stammers. “Fuck, where did you even get that from? I don't want to see some kid's head, for God's sake!”
“You must be strong,” Thomas whispers, adjusting the head a little. “See how the light from the fire dances in her dead eyes. Now let her watch as you mark yourselves.”
He turns to them.
“Trust me,” he adds with a grin. “I know what I'm doing.”
Over the next few minutes, he gradually persuades the others to line up so he can burn their hands. Some of them are more scared than others, but they eventually agree. They all scream as the red-hot metal is pressed against their flesh, and I can only watch with a growing sense of shock as they submit to something so horrific. Humans are difficult to understand at the best of times, but right now they seem completely insane as they willingly do something that leaves them in so much agony.
Perhaps the biggest surprise, however, is Melissa. When it's her turn, she's the only one who doesn't scream, who doesn't even flinch, as the metal is pressed against her hand. She simply stares into Thomas's eyes, without a trace of emotion, and he keeps the metal on her flesh for a little longer, as if he's waiting for her to cry out. It's almost as if they're engaged in some kind of face-off, with her refusing to cry out even as the metal burns deeper and deeper into her hand.
Finally, Thomas takes a step back, and I can see a hint of shock in his eyes. The others seem surprised too, watching the pair of them as if they're not quite sure what's going to happen next.
Melissa looks down at the burn on her hand, before getting to her feet.
“Do you mind?” she asks, reaching her damaged hand toward him.
“What do you want?” he asks cautiously.
“The branding iron.”
He hesitates, before passing it to her.
Stepping past him, she places the tip in the flames.
“What are you...” He pauses again. “What are you going to do with it?”
“I had an idea.”
I can sense his fear now.
“What kind of idea?” he asks. “I'm not sure I approve of this. The little girl doesn't either.”
“You don't know that,” Melissa tells him.
“I do,” Thomas stammers. “She's saying this is wrong.”
A faint flicker of amusement crosses Melissa's face. “You hear her talking to you?”
Thomas turns and looks at the severed head. “Don't the rest of you? She hasn't shut up since I cut it off the rest of her body.”
“Just be patient for a moment,” Melissa says calmly, staring into the flames. “All good things come to those who wait. Right?”
Thomas smiles nervously.
Still keeping well away from them all, I start trying to brush the dried blood from around my mouth. When I find that I can't quite get my paw into the right places, I switch to rubbing my chin against the floorboards. The smell of blood is getting too strong, and all I want is to clean myself and then get out of here. These people are insane.
“What are you gonna do with that branding iron?” Thomas asks nearby, but I don't even turn and look over at them. “Melissa? I think... I think you should remember that I'm in charge, okay? I'm the leader here.”
I want to be alone as much as possible. I used to love being around people, back in the days when Jon used to take me for long walks and I used to get patted and fussed, but now everyone seems to be want to hurt me. Still rubbing my face against the floorboards, I try to ignore Thomas and the others as they shout at one another. Glancing across the room, I see the dead girl's head on the chair, and her eyes are almost looking directly at me.
Instinctively, I get to my feet and move around the edge of the room, hoping to get away from her.
Suddenly Thomas screams.
Startled, I look over and see that he's on his knees. Melissa has pushed the burning metal spike into his mouth, driving it deeper and deeper into his throat as he cries out. He tries to get up, but she pushes down against his shoulder, and there's pure hatred in her eyes as she shoves the tip deeper. Finally, I watch in horror as the tip bursts out through the back of Thomas's neck and blood starts running from his mouth. Twisting the metal around, Melissa slowly pulls it out and then shoves Thomas back until he slumps against the floor. Blood is pouring from the wound now, and he lets out a series of breathless gasps as he tries to crawl away.
“That's for Scott,” Melissa stammers, her voice trembling with anger. “I recognized the bumper sticker on your car, asshole. You ran him down like he was a goddamn piece of trash!”
She drops the metal, letting it clatter against the floorboards as Thomas continues to crawl away. Turning to the others, she takes the gun from her belt.
“Dude,” Alex says, getting to his feet, “what are -”
Before he can finish, she shoots him in the chest, sending him crashing down, and then she turns and shoots the two other guys as they try to run.
“My Dad used to take me shooting,” she mutters, turning to look back down at Thomas as he writhes on the ground with blood pouring from his mouth. “Did I never mention that? So I'm a pretty good fucking shot.”
She pauses, before shooting him in the head, sending pieces of his skull and brain across the floor.
“Fucking asshole,” she whispers, watching him for a moment longer before suddenly kicking him hard, cracking his face.
I flinch and take a step back.
“Fucking bastard!” she screams, stamping down on Thomas's head over and over again, crushing his skull a little more each time.
Shocked by her sudden outburst, I slink around the edge of the roo
m, hoping to get to the door.
“Where the fuck do you think you're going?” she asks suddenly.
Turning, I see her staring at me. After a moment, she aims the gun at my face.
Running out of the room, I hurry along the corridor while trailing the rope from my collar. I can already hear Melissa coming after me, and in my panic I have no idea which way to go. Scrambling in the darkness, I run along another corridor until suddenly I reach the burned part of the building, where some of the walls are missing and late-night wind is blowing through the gaps.
I head over to the far side of the room, but when I look out I see that I'm too high to jump. Instead, I hurry through to another room, hoping that I can find another way down.
Suddenly a shot rings out and I feel a sharp pain slicing across my hip. Whimpering, I start running again, pushing through the agony as I hear Melissa hurrying after me through the dark building.
“Get back here, asshole!” she screams. “You were that bitch's dog! I've got one more bullet left and I'm saving it for you!”
Reaching another room, I find that there's no way out so I turn and head back into the corridor. I spot Melissa's silhouette at the far end, and a moment later there's another shot, this time missing me by inches and blasting charred plaster from the wall.
“That's okay!” she yells, running toward me. “I'll just have to -”
She lets out a sudden cry as the floor collapses beneath her. I hear the sound of wood and plaster raining down, followed a moment later by an agonized scream.
I stand completely still, too shocked to react, but a moment later Melissa cries out again. For the next few minutes, I don't dare move, but she's still shouting and sobbing and finally I realize that there's no-one else left in the building. She killed Thomas and the others, and it's clear that she's in agony.
Despite the pain in my hip and legs, I start limping along the corridor, heading toward the hole that she fell through a moment ago. I still have the little girl's blood dried in the matted fur beneath my nose, and my heart is pounding as I get to the hole and look down.
