Lycan Fallout_Rise Of The Werewolf

by Mark Tufo

  “Blood?” I asked queasily. That sounded about as good as shots of whiskey with a world-class hangover.

  “Yapatas root and mulberry.”

  “Sounds horrible.”

  “It’ll make you feel better,” she said as I took the pouch reluctantly.

  The whiskey would have been better. Bitter was such an inadequate descriptor; it was like calling Godzilla a pissed off iguana.

  “What’s the matter, couldn’t find any elk piss to make this taste worse?” I asked her gagging.

  “Drink it all.”

  “Are you poisoning me because I messed up the covenant thingy?” I asked her, choking down some more of the vile brew.

  “On the contrary, you may have bought us some time. Timbre was one of Xavier’s greatest warriors and his death will affect his confidence. He will not strike now until he is assured of victory.”

  “Not sure if that sounds better or worse,” I said as I muscled down the rest of the contaminated contagion.

  CHAPTER 15 - Denarth

  “Father, I saw what they did with my own eyes,” Lana said to her father.

  “I am not saying I disbelieve you, Lana. I’m saying that women have a flair for the dramatic.” He regretted it even as the words came out. It wasn’t that he was attempting to be mean or belittle his daughter; it was truly his sincere hope that she had indeed embellished the grisly reports.

  “Is that what you believe, father?” she asked. “That I merely thought up young boys and girls torn into pieces? Perhaps in affairs of the heart I have often thought of my knight in shining armor, but this? Do you honestly even believe that I would have the capacity to think of such atrocities? Not one person remained, not one. Have you even sent anyone to look? Talboton received riders requesting help when the attack began, you must have as well.”

  He had received them, and as quickly as he could, he had burned the message and sent the riders away. He had convinced himself it was for the best.

  “What would you have us do, Lana? Assemble an army? We don’t have one. You yourself know that most of our citizens are farmers. We have some wall guards and that’s about it. We will have to hope that towns more equipped like Talboton can protect us.”

  “What makes you think they’re going to go out of their way to do that? You certainly aren’t going out of yours. I do not think there is a single town that will be able to stand against them, father. We may not be next, but we will be eventually. And when they come, no one will be spared…including myself. Or perhaps it’s yourself you’re more concerned with,” she added intuitively.

  “Do not let this Michael Talbot cloud your judgment! He is far from the white knight you have sought.”

  “Is that what you think this is about? Your poor lovelorn daughter can’t see straight. Perhaps you’re right, father, perhaps after seeing a true man, my mind has been cl v

  The chancellor waited a few moments before calling in the captain of his guards.

  “Sir?” the captain said.

  “My daughter Lana, I want her under surveillance at all times. She is not allowed to leave the city. I would imagine she will give it a go this evening.”

  “And what should I tell her?”

  “I don’t care if you throw her in her room and lock the door. You don’t need to tell her anything as far as I’m concerned. The world is far too unsafe for someone to be walking about it alone…especially my daughter.”

  The captain bowed before leaving.

  Lana was already packing a bag when she heard boot steps coming down the hallway. She opened her door and quickly glanced out. Two guards were heading her way.

  “Dammit.” She closed her door.

  CHAPTER 16 - Mike Journal Entry Ten

  “We are being followed,” Azile said as she stood in her stirrups.

  “I thought we’d already established that?” I asked, turning towards Tommy.

  “Xavier’s warriors have already turned back,” she replied.

  “How do you know that?” I asked.

  “I didn’t give them much of an option.”

  “Always with the half statements. Doesn’t anyone like elaboration in this age?” I asked.

  “Shh,” she said.

  I heard nothing except the distant ruffle of feathers from birds being disturbed.

  “Let’s just wait until nightfall, I’m sure our stealthy guest will attempt to make themselves known in the most deadly way possible,” I said cynically.

  “If I ever have children,” Bailey said, “please stop me if I desire to have you tell them a nighttime tale.”

  “They’ll be bigger than me anyway. They can tell me stories of comfort,” I said.

  When we finally stopped for the night, it was a welcome respite. Each of us had been lost in our own thoughts. Not more than a handful of words had been spoken the remainder of the day, which was strange, because we had stayed in very near proximity to each other, not yet knowing what was out there or what its intentions were. Although, if I’ve learned anything in my existence, anything following generally does not have the followees best interests at heart.

  “Zombies?” I asked, once I got the fire started.

  “Doubtful, stealth isn’t their normal forte,” Tommy said. “Plus, the stink would have given them away by now.”

  “Who would have thought they’d be preferable to whatever is out there.” I threw another small log on the fire trying to offset the chill I felt.

  ~“Did you truly believe going to the Lycan king and petitioning for peace would work?” Bailey asked Azile. Azile was quiet for a moment. “No I did not. It was all I could think to do. I felt I had a better chance with that than I did with convincing man to fight. The towns will fight when pressed, but each individual hamlet will not be able to stand up to his assault.”

  “I should have stayed in Maine,” I said – not for the first time – and if I lived longer, not for the last. Azile didn’t even have the gumption to berate me for that statement. I knew she had to be feeling a little down. “Although, I guess if I had, I would have never met my new best friend.” I reached over and hugged Bailey’s shoulder.

  She pulled away. “That hasn’t been established quite yet.”

  “Oh, it’s only a matter of time. I’m entirely too charming to be denied for long.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  Azile stood up abruptly. I reached for a sword I no longer possessed. “I have got to find a weapon with a little longer range than a hand-axe.”

  “Come forth,” Azile said sternly.

  “Me?” I asked

  Azile whipped her head back at me.

  “Fine, fine…come forth,” I said.

  Oggie whined low, I stroked his back. I caught a flash of something darker than the woods moving quickly by on my right.

  “Azile?” I asked.

  “I do not know,” she said.

  Bailey had her weapon at the ready. Tommy was looking in the complete opposite direction from which I was.

  “I do, however, think it’s safe to say that they are all around us,” she did finally answer.

  “Maine sounds better and better all the time.”

  “Be quiet, I cannot get a fix on them,” Bailey admonished.

  “The fire, Michael,” Azile said.

  I quickly overturned the pot we had been heating water in. “There goes my bath,” I said as the fire sizzled. Darkness quickly enshrouded all of us. A few of the hardier cinders kept going, but for the most part, the night was black as ink. An arrow whizzed by and struck the side of Tommy’s cart.

  “I fucking hate arrows,” I jeered.

  A ball of light shot forth from Azile’s hands – much like a flare. The entire surrounding woods were enlightened in a bluish-green wavy haze as the ball hung a good hundred or so feet above us.

  “What the fuck?” I asked as I saw twenty or so figures around our periphery. The shadows danced as small breezes caught the flare. Some had the heads of wolves, the other
s bears. It looked like the island of Dr. Moreau out there. “Are there things you guys haven’t told me about yet? I mean I’d understand, because I just flat out would have refused to come.”

  “Tribal hunters,” Tommy said, pulling the arrow from his cart.

  “Indians?” I asked. “I thought you had an understanding.”

  “That was the Micmac. I do not know who these people are,” he said with some concern.

  “I swear to God, if I get shot with an arrow, I’m going to be extremely pissed off!” I shouted.

  As if on cue, another arrow was loosed. This time I saw in which direction and, more importantly, who loosed it.

  “Fine, we’ll play your game.” I easily sidestepped the projectile. I moved with a speed and grace that my mis-condition afforded. I wrapped one hand around the warrior’s throat; with my other I knocked the bow to the side.

  I’ll give him this, he wasn’t going out without a fight. He reached down to his side towards a nasty looking knife.

  “You grab that thing and I’ll crush your throat,” I told him.

  As his hand kept moving slowly towards it, I tightened my grip. “Do you not understand English?”

  “I understand your words fine,” a distinctively feminine voice croaked out. I removed her headdress fashioned from a fox’s head.

  “I’m not the forgiving type,” I told her as I effortlessly lifted her off the ground. Her feet kicked a bit as she struggled for air. I heard the ululation of a war cry, and then all was still. With my free hand I plucked her knife from its sheath. “A fucking Ka-Bar? Are you kidding me? I’ll consider this a spoil of war,” I told her as I pulled the sheath free from her leg, breaking the leather twining as I did so.

  “Are we done here?” I asked her rapidly stilling form. “Oh, right…I should probably put you down.” It was then that I noticed I had a good five or six people around me and they looked relatively hostile.

  The woman rubbed her throat, once her feet were firmly back on the ground.

  “Let’s everyone back away,” Bailey said forcibly behind me. She had her rifle trained on some of them.

  The woman who I had suspended like a piñata barked in some savage language. The men around us relaxed somewhat, but I had yet to see any of them put their weapons down.

  “What are you?” the woman asked.

  “No need to be rude, and considering I am the victor in this little battle, it is me that gets to ask the first questions.”

  “Victor?” she asked. “Look around Old One.”

  “I’m getting a little sick of that moniker,” I told her. It was then I noticed there was another much larger ring of warrior’s around us. “Not thrilled I’m in the middle of a Mexican stand-off.”

  “Why are you here?” the woman asked.

  “Spa day,” I told her.

  “My knife.” She held her hand out towards me.

  “You won’t try to stick me with it?” I asked.

  She didn’t answer. I didn’t take that as a particularly good sign. I handed her the knife hilt first, she held her hand oeldd.ut until I handed her sheath back.

  Azile joined in the mix. “Chieftress Inuktuk, it is truly an honor to finally meet you.” Azile bowed slightly.

  “As well as you, Azile of the Red Order,” the Chieftress said. “What brings you on to our lands? You reek of Lycan.”

  “That would be me,” I said, sticking my hand in the air.

  “We met with their leader in an attempt to forego a war,” Azile told her.

  “And he allowed you to live?” she questioned.

  “Even the wild ones have laws they must obey,” Azile said.

  “Come, we will feast,” Inuktuk offered.

  “Really? Are you shitting me? You just tried to kill us,” I said.

  “If the Chieftress had wanted you dead, you would be,” one of the braves said in a smooshed language kind of way. It was broken English to say the least, but that was the general idea behind his words, and he looked pretty irked that that wasn’t what happened.

  I pointed at my eyes and then at him in the traditional ‘I’ll be watching you’ gesture. He had no clue what it meant, and I’ve got to admit I was somewhat amused watching him mimic it.

  “You give him the finger, Michael, and I’m going to tell him what it means. So help me. We’re going to need their help before all this is over,” she told me as we were following the Indians back to their camp. Wait...do I still have to say Native Americans?

  It was a strange settlement they led us to; large canvas and fur structures dominated a small plain, some were free-standing with supports made from heavy timbers, others were attached to existing structures that had not yet succumbed to nature. To say it was Indian would be like saying casinos belonged on their land. There were less implements being used here than in the other towns I’d seen along the way. Those towns seemed in a rush to try and get back to where we had once been. I don’t know what the rush was; the ‘good old days’ were anything but.

  These people seemed to want to stay in sort of a homeostasis with the world around them. Take only what they needed to survive. That’s a hard way to make your path through life, but it’s honest. There was some agriculture, couldn’t really tell in the night, but it was easy to tell from the planted straight lines that this was not wild caused.

  We were ‘guests’ in the same way mental patients were ‘wards of the state’. We were completely surrounded, knives might not been out and bows may not have been drawn, but hands hovered by hilts, and each warrior had an arrow in one hand and their bow in the other ready to nock in a moment. Now, I know there are other dangers in the night that might necessitate this, but it still isn’t a comforting feeling when you’re the stranger in the strange land.

  We were led into the biggest tent structure in the village, had to have been forty feet across, the wall to our right was cinder block and appeared to be the foundation of some old factory, old graffiti still ingrained on the surface. ‘Spence’ might not have made it through the zombie apocalypse, but his name lived on. I raised my fist in his honor. In the center of the structure was a large fire th lamigat looked extremely inviting. And then the strangest thing I’d seen all night – and remember, this included seeing people wearing animal heads in the woods, was over to my left.

  There was an old roll top desk almost completely encased in dripped wax, and more being added to it every second as at least a dozen candles blazed. Two guards stood a vigilant post over something I just could not explain, a blue visor protected under a Lucite container. The familiar golden arches logo were neatly embroidered on the front of the visor.

  “What the fuck?” I asked so softly I don’t think I even said it aloud. It was then I noticed that, had I been paying more attention, I would have seen that almost all of the headwear the warriors were wearing, had the logo either burned, stitched, or etched in. This time I couldn’t help myself.

  “Want some fries with that?” I asked as I approached the shrine, for that’s what it was.

  Azile intercepted my course, grabbing my arm and steering me back to the fire. The tent was rapidly filling with the inhabitants of the village.

  “You see that?” I asked her.

  “I have. You had best think twice, no make that three times, before you say anything condescending.”

  “Me?” I asked incredulously.

  “It obviously means something of great significance to them.”

  “Me too,” I told her indignantly. “What I wouldn’t do for a Quarter Pounder with cheese.”

  “Michael,” she admonished me.

  “These people don’t strike me as Native Americans,” I said in her ear. “Shit, I’m darker than most of them, and I’m of European descent. Plus, I don’t go out much.”

  “I will give you an incurable case of diarrhea if you don’t shut up.”

  I stopped short. “Wait…can you really do that? I don’t want to know. Although, if I wake up with a gurgling stomach I
will always make sure I am upwind of you.”

  “Stop.”

  Oggie and Tommy were sitting on a large plank bench by the fire, Bailey was nervously pacing behind them. We all had to give up our weapons before entering the sacred tent and she was not dealing with it very well. Azile possessed a strength I did not think a woman of her stature could as she pretty much placed me in a spot next to Tommy.

  “Witchcraft?” I asked her. I had to have some excuse to how easily she manhandled me.

  “Whatever it takes to shut you up.” She sat next to me. She grabbed my hand, but I think it was more so that she could squeeze the living shit out of my digits if I started to say anything that might get us into trouble. I felt like we were in a zoo as seemingly the entire population walked by us; more than one would reach out and touch Bailey. I couldn’t blame them, if any among us looked like the gods of old, it was her. Bailey was statuesque, beautiful, dark, and deadly. She seemed none too happy to be the object of so much attention.

  “If one more person tries to touch my hair, I will break their fingers,” she growled.

  That seemed ">Tsizto endear the throng to her more.

  “See! She can say some stuff and they’re not throwing stones at her,” I said, trying to further my case. Somehow, Azile made my pointer finger and pinkie touch. “Fine!” I blurted out.

  Bailey stepped over the bench and nestled herself between Tommy and me; it seemed the crowd was in no great rush to get by our sides, and that she was marginally safer under our wings.

  “Having fun?” I asked her.

  She rolled her eyes.

  People began to settle down. Rough, woven blankets were set down as they began to sit. The murmurs quickly diminished and then, somehow, the fire went from this blazing inferno to something you’d expect to see in a responsible Boy Scout’s camp, although I’d never been to a Boy Scout’s camp, having had a problem with authority even back then. Well, to be honest, I never had the opportunity to join; I had been tossed from the Cub Scouts and banned from future events. It was a mess, just some political bullshit.