The 1000 Souls (Book 2): Generation Apocalypse

by Michael Andre McPherson

  Kayla aimed her Uzi into the darkness near Tevy, his pale form distracting her. How could she be attracted to such a young kid? He was more than five years younger than her and barely shaving. Yet she had to push away the thought of kneeling face to face with him, her just as naked, her breasts against his chest, her hands around his back and reaching up to his shoulders.

  The sound of hurrying feet stopped.

  “The 1000 Live On!” called Tevy in a quiet voice, but in the stillness of the evening, with everyone straining to hear, it sounded like a shout.

  Dark figures with aimed weapons converged on Tevy. They were visible more because they occluded the light from the gun slits of the college as they ran in, because their black clothes made them nearly invisible in the dark.

  “The 1000 Live On,” said a man’s voice. “Are you from St. Mike’s? We were told they were three of you.”

  “We were five. Three are waiting nearby. One didn’t make it. Traitors ambushed us at sunset. There’s a new ripper stronghold north of the Loop, and it’s not a mile from here.”

  “Call your people. Let’s get inside.”

  *

  Clearly it had been a lecture hall, but now Kayla thought it looked more like a church, and yet unlike any church she had ever visited either before or after the apocalypse. They entered from the top of stadium-style seating, walking down the stairs between rows of congregation seated at long tables, as if they were students here for a lecture, although no one had laptops or notepads. Seen from above, the hall was a semi-circle, designed to concentrate everyone’s attention on the lecturer and the glass board, a dead smart board, at the focus. Kerosene lamps that would have once been for camping sat here and there on the tables to provide yellow light.

  The walls on one side of the lecture platform had a huge mural of Erics and the twelve on fire in the square of Billings, Montana. Their eyes, miraculously pain-free, were all focused on three figures: rough caricatures of Bertrand, Jeff and Joyce. Did any of those three know they were honored here? For the painting also showed smoke-like souls shooting from Erics and his followers toward the trinity.

  On the other wall was a mural of Bertrand in a death struggle with an evil shadow: Vlad the Scourge. Flames, but little smoke, filled the sparse room around them. Bertrand was light and Vlad, darkness. Underneath the first mural in beautiful calligraphy was the phrase THE 1000 LIVE ON. Underneath the other in the same gold-leafed calligraphy: HE IS STILL WITH US.

  A table occupied the lecture platform with twelve men and women seated behind it, some very old and others very young, all from different ethnic backgrounds, some Asian and some African, several Caucasians, and one man who looked to be of Indian extraction. In the center sat a middle-aged man, his skin a light shade of black and his long hair tied up in a tight bun on the back of his head. He stood and spread his arms.

  “Welcome fellow souls. I’m Edward Mabruke, host to the Captain Soul.” He wore an immaculate if tight-fitting suit, but the style was odd with its vest and pocket-watch chain, almost as if he’d stepped out of the late nineteenth century, yet it was a shade toward purple with gray pinstripes. Kayla remembered that Erics dressed in a similarly unusual get up. He had an accent that Kayla couldn’t place—maybe South African?

  Mabruke studied each of them in turn as they marched down the stairs between the crowd, and Kayla had to shake the sense that she and her companions were prisoners being escorted to trial. At least they were allowed to keep their weapons.

  Since there was nowhere to sit, the four spread out to stand facing the table.

  Mabruke pointed to Tevy, Elliot, and Amanda in turn. “I’ve met you and you and you.” His finger stopped on Kayla. “I’ve never met you.”

  “I’m not from Chicago. I’m from St. John’s.”

  Mabruke met her eyes and smiled. “I’m so happy to see one of our soul hosts from up north.”

  Tevy spoke up, sparing Kayla from finding some way to prevent Mabruke from spilling the beans that so many at St. John’s were Ericsians. She didn’t want that information tossed about Chicago until she had a chance to talk to Joyce.

  “I’ve come with a message from Bobs that she didn’t trust to radio,” Tevy said.

  Mabruke sat, a frown creasing his forehead. “What does the host of the Ruthless General have to say?”

  “That we need one another, that we have to fight as one army. The rippers may be coming even tonight, or maybe their traitor armies tomorrow. She suggests I could be your contact for organizing combined operations, attacking or defending at the same time.”

  Mabruke tapped at the table with one finger, studying it as if it were an amazing clockwork. Everyone else in the room held their breath.

  “I need to know who we’re dealing with,” he finally said.

  Kayla had wondered if this would happen. Several of the Ericsians in St. John’s tried to persuade her to take the test, and she had been considering it, but she worried about the outcome. What if she were host to an evil soul?

  But it was Tevy they were after, judging by Mabruke’s concentration, and he figured that out pretty quickly. “I’m not taking your test.” Tevy crossed his arms in his defiance. “Why are you guys always after me for that anyway? I’m just one guy. Why you gotta be sticking your noses into my religion.”

  Mabruke pulled on a gold chain around his neck until he retrieved a gold circle with the circumference of a coaster from under his shirt. “Do you know what this is?”

  “It’s your circle,” Tevy said.

  “It’s our circle.” Mabruke swept his hand in a gesture that encompassed the whole room, including the guests. “But while twelve stood in the circle, only three soul portions were present. Those are three special souls. They come together only in times of great need, and somehow they find one another. We’re always on the lookout for this combination, for it is always essential to support the three.”

  Kayla suddenly had a sense of where this was going, and she found herself studying Tevy and Elliot and Amanda in a new perspective. Was it possible that they were the three? Kayla’s heart rate quickened. Tevy reminded Kayla vaguely of someone, but she couldn’t say whom. Was Amanda the same soul as Jeff or Joyce? Somehow, she didn’t seem like the Angry Captain, but she surely had been quietly dependable, but not at all like Jeff, who was dependable but always drunk or fornicating.

  Mabruke continued. “Before we can agree to any alliance with General Roberts, you must all take the determination, starting with you.” Mabruke pointed straight at Tevy.

  “No bleeding way.” Tevy looked shocked himself that he had used one of Bishop Alvarez’s forbidden words.

  Kayla had to fight the anger that welled up. “Oh for fuck’s sake, what’s the big deal? Five multiple-choice questions and your done. It’ll take you less than a minute.”

  That got Mabruke’s attention. “So you’ve taken the determination?”

  Kayla straightened under the attention of the crowd and decided the truth was the best. “No. I haven’t yet, because I’m afraid.”

  Tevy and the others looked over in surprise, but Mabruke nodded his understanding. “You host the soul that you host,” he said. “Knowing or not knowing changes nothing, my daughter. Take the determination. It may be a relief.”

  Tevy looked ready to argue, and that’s when Kayla really lost it. “You want to come through for Bobs or not? Take the damn test before the rippers start pouring over the walls.”

  Tevy looked ready to argue more, but he shrugged instead. “All right. If it’ll make everybody so amazingly happy.”

  They led them off to a side room, a lab next door to the lecture hall, judging by equipment--outlets for gas and sinks. They took their places in a row and sat on the lab stools while Mabruke himself placed a single sheet of paper in front of each of them. “Wait,” he said, when Kayla started to turn it over. “It’s best if you all begin at once. Answer with your first instinct and don’t try to think about what is the right answer. There is
no right answer. There is simply your answer.”

  He stood back, sitting on a stool so that he could watch them all.

  “Okay, now begin,” he said.

  Kayla flipped her page and read the first question about a smoke alarm. Would they have to update this test, since younger people wouldn’t even know what it was? The questions about the flower dated well, but the questions about taxes and investments might challenge even Tevy. He would never have paid taxes in his life. She glanced at him for a second and found herself wanting to touch his neck at the base, where his short dark hair came to such an abrupt end. His skin was so pure.

  Mabruke cleared his throat and she got back to her determination, ticking off her answers with the bit of pencil as quickly as she read them. As she had promised Tevy, it was over in a minute and Mabruke collected their papers. “Just wait here,” he said.

  They still had their weapons, Kayla reminded herself, adjusting the strap of the Uzi on her shoulder while two guards with holstered handguns stood at the door to the lecture hall.

  “I could sure use a drink,” said Elliot, running a hand through his hair.

  One of the guards, a woman in her forties, Kayla guessed, pulled a metal bottle from the back of her belt and handed it to Elliot, who took a quick drink and gave her a winning smile. “I was thinking about something a little stronger.”

  Suddenly, Kayla thought about Jeff and his hangovers, the ones he fought through when he was needed. Could it be? Could Elliot be the Dependable Rogue? He was flirting with the guard even though he was sixteen and she was forty. Amanda had certainly noticed and was pissed, her arms crossed under her breasts.

  Mabruke’s voice carried back to them from the lecture hall, and when Kayla heard him say, “...and her answer to question two is...” but she missed the rest, exchanging a glance with Amanda, whose red face probably reflected her own. He was reading out their answers to the whole room!

  A cheer went up from the crowd, and judging by Mabruke’s shouts, it took a while to quiet them. He read out more answers and now they all strained to listen, but Kayla always seemed to miss the answer.

  “What’d you say about the smoke detector?” asked Elliot. “I wanted to write in an extra answer that said thank God there’s a smoke detector. Maybe this was all a bad dream and I’m nine.”

  “Quiet,” said Tevy. Of all of them he looked the most anxious.

  “I thought you didn’t believe in this,” Kayla said.

  Tevy lifted his chin and looked defiant. “I don’t. But what if they read something bad in that test like you were worried about? What if they think I have the same soul as Vlad or something like that? They’re not going to give us any effing help then, will they?”

  More cheering caught their attention.

  “There you go,” said Elliot. “That’s two good souls anyway. Maybe they’ll help me get a drink.”

  The female guard studied Elliot intensely for a moment before she turned to Kayla and asked, “Is he dependable?”

  She was still shaking her head and about to explain that she’d just met him when Tevy answered, “He’s always there when I need him, and he’s never run unless we’re bailing together.” He and Elliot knocked knuckles and high-fived.

  For a moment Kayla felt a wave of jealousy, like she should be part of that camaraderie even though she hardly knew them. Amanda didn’t seem interested in the boyish bonding ritual.

  The crowd spoke again, a polite clapping with a few “woots” thrown in for good measure. Mabruke began to read answers again, but this time Kayla was sure he cut short. The door opened so fast that, for a moment, Kayla thought they were going to be attacked, and she reflexively raised her Uzi, but Mabruke stood in the doorway, his hand frozen on the handle and his eyes wide. He was trembling! He was in some weird kind of religious ecstasy.

  “Bring them,” he finally said, and it came out as a gasp. “Praise the 1000, bring them.”

  Kayla wanted to fight, to shout, anything rather than be pulled in front of the crowd, but there was no denying Mabruke or the guards short of a firefight. No one threatened them with weapons or gestures, they were just beside themselves excited. Yet she now wondered: who was she?

  The twelve people who sat at the large table had changed sides so that their backs were to the crowd. This allowed Mabruke to line the four of them up, still standing and facing the crowd, between the table and the smart board. Mabruke stood behind Amanda first.

  “You are the first portion of your soul we have met, and so we have no name for you. Until we have learned more your soul number will be assigned your name: Amanda.”

  The crowd cheered, but clearly this was the warm up, for they knew something big was up. They all knew the results of at least two other determinations. Mabruke moved behind Elliot, but the crowd was already cheering.

  “The Dependable Rogue!” shouted Mabruke.

  Kayla caught her breath and looked over in shock. Elliot was jumping up and down with his fists in the air like a prizefighter before the fight who loves the crowd. He smiled at her in between jumps. “So who the fuck is that?”

  “Jeff. Jeff MacLean is the Dependable Rogue according to Erics.” But Elliot didn’t hear her reply and didn’t seem to care, still hamming it up for the crowd.

  Mabruke moved behind her, and the cheering only got more intense.

  It couldn’t be. She couldn’t be. Maybe this was all bullshit. What were the odds that they would all answer their determinations in that configuration?”

  “The Angry Captain,” shouted Mabruke, but the crowd already knew and some of them were chanting, “Joyce! Joyce! Joyce! Joyce!”

  Kayla wanted to tell them all to fuck off. She wanted to storm out of the room or shoot a few rounds into the ceiling to shut them all up, but she was afraid that would only convince them of this madness. She had fought alongside Joyce and they were completely different people. How could anyone say that they were both host to the same soul?

  Finally, Mabruke moved behind Tevy, who glanced over his shoulder with a suspicious frown before turning to Kayla. “They think you’re Joyce Skala?” he asked just as the room went silent, his voice carrying to the back of the hall.

  Mabruke, still trembling, hardly able to contain himself answered for her. “She hosts a portion of the Angry Captain. The same soul is hosted by Joyce .”

  Now a dropped pin could be heard, and Kayla knew by the intensity of Mabruke’s stance what was coming. So did the crowd. She couldn’t believe it. This was simply fantastical.

  Mabruke put one hand on Tevy’s shoulder. “And this, my fellow hosts, is the Dormant Hero. The trinity has come to us tonight.”

  The crowd went crazy, weeping and screaming and applauding. Mabruke went down on one knee and kissed Tevy’s hand. Kayla stepped back, afraid the crowd would charge, her Uzi coming up just as Elliot leveled his M16 and Tevy drew is shotgun.

  This only seemed to make the crowd more ecstatic, but at least they stayed back.

  “What the hell?” asked Tevy of her.

  Kayla had to re-evaluate every interaction she had with Tevy. Could this teenager really host a portion of the same soul as the ripper she met in the basement of Atherley College?

  “You’re the Dormant Hero,” she shouted to him. “You answered the determination the same way Bertrand Allan and Erics answered it.”

  He shook his head, now pointing the shotgun to the ceiling with one hand since it was clear that the crowd would keep their distance.

  Kayla wondered if he’d heard and just didn’t believe. She could hardly believe it herself. “You host a portion of the same soul as their prophet Erics, and Bertrand Allan. How can you be so thick? You’re Erics!”

  Mabruke stood and kissed each of Tevy’s cheeks.

  “Thank you for coming back to us, master.”

  Fourteen - First Day of High School

  Tevy pushed away from the Mabruke’s kisses in horror, but it was the shining in Kayla’s eyes that really stunned h
im. She believed it. Did that mean she was a heretic? An Ericsian?

  “No way,” he said. “No effing way.”

  But the crowd couldn’t hear him, and apparently Mabruke didn’t care, but Kayla just kept shaking her head in wonder and saying, “What are the odds? What are the odds?”

  Tevy couldn’t get his head around it, so he turned to Elliot, who was grinning like an idiot and blowing kisses to the girls as if he were the star of a boy-band. Tevy resisted the urge to punch Elliot’s shoulder to get his attention.

  “Dude!” he shouted instead.

  Elliot turned his grin on him. “You’re not supposed to use that word. You’ll get in trouble with the bishop.”

  “Whatever. Surely you don’t believe this crap.”

  Elliot shrugged and continued his waves. “What does it matter? Bobs wanted their cooperation and you’ve done it, dude. Oops!” He held his hand over his mouth as if he’d just burped. “If their believing this 1000 souls thing means they’ll do what you tell ’em to, isn’t that a good thing?”

  Suddenly, Tevy had an idea, saw a chance to right a wrong. He turned to Mabruke. “How many troops can you put in the field tonight? Now.”

  Mabruke thought for a moment. “We could get two hundred together in half an hour.”

  “Will you do it?”

  Mabruke didn’t hesitate. “If that’s what you believe we should do.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  But to Tevy’s surprise, Mabruke turned to Kayla. “Once they’re ready I assume you will lead them?”

  Kayla seemed to know way too much about the Ericsians—and Tevy made a note to ask her about that later—because she knew exactly what to say to Mabruke. “Of course. I’m the Angry Captain.”

  Mabruke ushered them away from the crowd and back into the lab so he could muster his troops, and that’s when Kayla turned her eyes on Tevy, and she did look angry. “What are we supposed to be doing with these two hundred troops?

  Tevy had never been so sure of anything in his life.