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The Path of Ashes [Omnibus Edition]

Page 17

by Parker, Brian


  Whatever the reason, they pushed off the hilltop and set out on the winding road down to the town, intent on interacting with the residents of Eureka Springs. When they reached the city limits, there weren’t any sentinels guarding the town or groups of people staring at them with hatred. Instead, they were greeted warmly by a widely-varied group of people. The town had been in a seasonal lull when the nukes went off, so most of the people were full-time residents. Some of them were obviously tourists who’d gotten stuck in the town and weren’t able to get out, but they made it clear that everyone would be welcome.

  Regardless of whether they were permanent residents or recent transplants, everyone was hungry for news of the outside world. According to the group assembled, no one had been through since the war and they had no information about what was going on. Unfortunately, Aeric and Tyler could only relate their own firsthand experiences and didn’t have much else to tell the residents of Eureka Springs about the global scope, beyond what Lieutenant Griffith had said.

  Even without the details that they’d hoped for, the people were grateful to learn that there were other survivors out there besides the small communities spread throughout the mountains and at least they had a little bit more information to chew on. They threw a small party in Aeric and Tyler’s honor and several of the local street musicians played on their banjos and guitars. There was even an accordion and one guy had bagpipes. The music sounded strange and foreign to the two men who’d traveled in silence for so long.

  At the end of the night, they were given a free room in the world famous 1886 Crescent Hotel, which, like the rest of the town, was known for its Victorian styling and for being one of the most haunted locations in America. Despite the lack of power or fresh supplies, and their total isolation, the hotel was still an amazing sight. They had a roaring fire in the lobby’s fireplace that the few guests who’d become stranded huddled around to talk in the evening. Both Aeric and Tyler were hesitant to stay in the supposedly haunted hotel, especially after some of the guests regaled them with tales of what they’d seen since they’d been stuck there.

  Eventually, the need for sleep overcame their reservations about staying overnight in the haunted building, so with the assistance of the hotel bellman’s cart, they unpacked the bicycle carts into their room and locked up the bikes for the night. They heard all sorts of noises throughout the night, but everything could be explained away by a skeptic—or by two travelers who didn’t want to be scared shitless—and they convinced themselves that the strange shadows that they saw and the scratching noises on the ceiling were really just echoes of the creaking trees outside as the moon shown through the clouds of ash.

  In the morning, they traded their bikes with the worn out brakes and an entire carton of cigarettes for newer bikes from one of the defunct tourist shops in town. The residents saw them off with a meal of freshly cooked eggs and bread. They wished everyone the best of luck, knowing that they’d likely never see any of them ever again.

  As they left town, they were surprised to see a giant white statue of Jesus with his arms outstretched on a hilltop to the east. They had a long theological discussion about the nature of the war and if it was the proclaimed end of times like in the Christian Bible. Aeric had been raised Catholic and had very little understanding about the Book of Revelation, but Tyler had been dragged to church every Sunday with a fire and brimstone Baptist congregation, and had heard the story multiple times over the years.

  Their current situation certainly seemed like it was following the tale of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. The first of the horsemen in the story rides the White Horse and he’s known as Conquest, or Pestilence, depending on which interpretation one followed. Tyler had been thinking a lot about it during their journey and his interpretation was that the “pestilence” was the spread of the disease of terrorism. The actions of the terrorists which had led to this moment certainly seemed to infect everyone like disease would. The people had responded by throwing the government’s inability to stop the terrorists back in their faces, which led to further tightening of security and harsher penalties for everyone.

  That infection over time had given birth to the Red Horseman, War. Tyler wasn’t aware of any other interpretations for what this rider was supposed to represent. The Vultures had followed quickly on the heels of the riots, police state actions and social reforms, which allowed their group to believe that initiating a global nuclear war was an acceptable thing to do. The belief that the war was the end of things couldn’t be farther from the truth.

  Next came the Black Horse, Famine. In the Bible, the rider brought with him the scales that indicated how food would be weighed in times of famine. One of the thoughts about what this meant was that the rider also judged the rich versus the poor, since historically the rich would be fine while the poor and destitute of the world were the ones who suffered. The passage mentions how luxury products would continue to be produced while a simple thing like food for the poor was neglected. It was easy for them to see how they were entering a time of famine and lack of resources as the city dwellers that couldn’t produce their own food would likely begin to starve if they didn’t begin growing their own produce.

  Finally, the Pale Horse of Death closed out the story. Simply put, if you didn’t die in the war or of starvation, then Death would wipe you out anyways. This notion is where Aeric and Tyler had their first disagreement.

  “So why are we struggling to survive if we’re going to be killed anyways?” Aeric asked.

  Tyler breathed roughly through his mask. He’d been doing most of the talking about the Horsemen and needed some extra oxygen. “Because we have to. If we give up, then we lose all chance of making it to Heaven.”

  “Are you kidding me, bro?” Aeric asked incredulously. “Do you really think that there’s a Heaven after all of this?”

  “Everything about me originates in some form from how I was raised. I was taught to believe that there was a Heaven and a Hell, and that the Devil was real and he wanted your soul.”

  “How can you say that any of it is accurate when Christianity itself disagrees with your sexuality, something that you have no control over?”

  “Christianity doesn’t believe that homosexuals are evil, it doesn’t say that in the Bible. People’s different interpretations of Christianity say that it is. But you’re right, am I supposed to go to Hell for the way I was born? That’s not what I believe and I don’t think God punishes people for being gay. It’s just the way I am.”

  Aeric stopped pedaling and let his bike slow to a halt. He wasn’t sure how the conversation had devolved from the Four Horsemen to the Church’s opinions on sexual orientation, but it was on his friend’s mind, so he was willing to keep on talking about it. “I think that once people’s opinions get involved, things are automatically going to be screwed up. I agree. There’s no way that God would abandon you for being gay after He made you that way.”

  “Thanks, man. I’m just… Ah, who the hell am I kidding? Everyone that said shit to me when I was growing up is dead anyways. They told me that I had to repress my feelings and marry a woman if I wanted to go to Heaven. I wonder if that’s where those bigots are now.”

  So that’s what it was about, Aeric thought. Tyler felt guilty for not being home with his family when they died. “You don’t know that, they might have—”

  “Nah, man. Don’t try to make me feel some type of hope. Do you know how many nuclear missile sites are in Nebraska?”

  “Well, no,” Aeric responded truthfully.

  “Hundreds. Yeah, sure, the enemy targeted the bigger cities across America, but I guarantee you that they also targeted those missile silos. Those things were all over the place around Omaha. There’s nothing left of my home, my parents or any of my family. I’m the last of the Nordgrens, man.”

  “Shit, I hadn’t even thought about that. I mean, I’d wondered about why we weren’t going to try to find your family like we’re going to Missouri. I really
thought that you’d decide to continue on to Nebraska once we were there.”

  “There’s nothing left to go to. You’re the closest thing to family that I have left.”

  Aeric was touched by the big man’s sentiment. “You’re like a brother to me, too, Ty.”

  “Thanks, man. I appreciate that.” He started pedaling his bike and Aeric leaned against the handlebars to get his moving as well. From behind, he heard Tyler mutter something about the big, stupid statue.

  *****

  “I hate that building. It’s useless, ugly and a reminder of the old world’s consumerist greed. They thought all that glass was beautiful, reflecting the sun and throwing it back in God’s face. I want it gone, take it down.”

  “Yes, sir,” Greg said and turned to relay the orders to his troops who were waiting for their next mission since they’d recently invaded a few of the larger apartment complexes to gather the residents’ food supplies. Justin needed the population entirely dependent upon the Vultures in order to maintain control. They needed to learn of their leader’s benevolence, but first, he had to set the conditions.

  Justin smiled as he watched the man go. Captain Greg Sanders had been on security duty along Interstate 35 with the mission of keeping it clear for military use when the war happened and Fort Hood was wiped off the map. Justin had seen the opportunity and seized upon it. He offered to allow Captain Sanders to keep his command and become the defender of Austin with all the benefits associated with being a member of the Vultures. Now, he was one of Justin’s most trusted advisors.

  With the Army company’s leadership in his pocket, the rest of Captain Sanders’ men had quickly followed suit. Then it had been a simple matter of purifying the minorities from the organization, and now Justin had an entire company of tanks and a platoon of self-propelled artillery at his command.

  He’d used his soldiers to assist the police who remained alive to wipe out the Latino gangs, earning him their adoration and ultimately their own vows of service to the Vultures. It was a simple matter to tell the city’s leadership that he was officially in charge. Once they realized that they’d been effectively isolated by the nuclear blasts and that he had the loyalty of the police force, they handed over responsibility willingly. The Vultures took the former Texas governor hostage and set up shop in the capitol building.

  He smiled again. His kingdom was expanding and besides the few military vehicles that remained, the Reset had wiped out all of the electronics. The Cleanse was in full effect and soon everything would be complete. Of course, there had been a slight alteration to his plans as more than half of the hackers in the Vultures had tried to leave the organization after the EMPs. They helped to orchestrate the Reset, but they’d thought that their own computer systems would be safe from the purge. They were useless social shut-ins anyways.

  He’d orchestrated public executions of some of his closest friends and that brought the others in line. As an added bonus, it increased his following amongst the local population. In conjunction with seizing the population’s food supplies, when they learned that he had multiple warehouses hidden throughout the countryside full of food, his position of power in the region was solidified.

  With the adoring support of the population, he could afford to do the little things that he wanted to do, like bring down that glass monstrosity that stretched its way towards the heavens. Everything was going perfectly for him. He leaned back and rubbed his fingers across his nipples, the feeling of power was arousing. Maybe he’d order Cassandra to have sex with him again. The sexual release was the only way to keep from going mad with power. He knew that if he went crazy, the other Vultures would descend upon him like—well, like vultures.

  He’d set up his headquarters in the former Texas State Capitol Building. Its palatial feel suited him well and he’d even gone so far as to set up the House Chamber on the second floor as his own throne room, where he held public court. He kept the entire third floor to himself so he could overlook the proceedings on the second floor from the galleries and used the third floor’s north wing as his bedchamber. The Vulture’s palace had a medieval feel to it that appealed to him. It helped to solidify in the minds of the people that the Vultures had the real power in the city.

  He shook slightly with the need for the release, but he had some business to attend to first. Torturing people, especially the colonel, added to his sexual satisfaction anyways. “Bring me Harris,” he bellowed into the hall’s openness. The courtiers in the audience clapped approvingly. They loved to watch him abuse the old man who’d ruined his life. He smiled and waved for the crowd, his eyes lighting on one particular beauty. Justin beckoned her forward, maybe she could take Cassandra’s place next after he’d used her up.

  The clinking of chains soon told him that his second favorite pastime was arriving. He excused the beautiful woman, asking her to go to his bedchamber and wait for him while he dealt with Colonel John Harris.

  “How are we feeling today, Colonel?”

  “Fuck you,” the naked man managed to say. His bottom lip quivered slightly, whether from cold or from fear, Justin couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter.

  “Ah, I’m sorry, my dance card is full. I’ve already arranged that meeting with the lovely Annie later this evening.” He paused as the crowd applauded his wit. “You’re looking much healthier, Colonel. I’d say you’ve lost at least, what, ten pounds? Maybe a little more.”

  “Not eating for a week will do that to you, bastard.”

  “True. But I wouldn’t want my mentor to die, so from here on out, you’ll be given food and water—uncontaminated water.” He looked up to the courtiers assembled and said, “See, ladies and gentlemen, I am compassionate towards my guests. This man ruined my life before the Reset. But, I will not kill him and hang his head from the flagpole as he deserves. No, I will care for him, feed him, clothe him…and make him regret ever crossing the Vultures!”

  The crowd went wild. They shook guns and knives in the air, chanting unintelligibly about whatever the hell they’d decided was their mantra of the day. Justin didn’t bother to learn them since they changed almost as often as he fucked one of the women in the crowd. Once the official chant was decided upon by the masses, then he’d take the time to learn it.

  “Okay. First things first, Colonel. My friends demand a little torture each day. Just a little bit,” he held up his thumb and forefinger inches away from the colonel’s face. “Maybe a fingernail, possibly an entire toe—you’ll never miss your pinkie toe, it’s actually kind of useless. Not like your pinkie finger, which is surprisingly important.

  “Did you know that there was a book over at the LBJ Library that had pictures and text about all the forms of medieval torture? I made sure to save that book before I burned that place down. Isn’t that wonderful? It’s more than three hundred pages long. I think we can make it all the way through each and every one of them together. In fact, I’ve already got my engineers building several of the non-lethal machines. Ever heard of the rack, or the picquet? I’m so excited, Colonel, I’ve been planning to spend this time together with you for as long as I can remember.”

  He grinned like the madman that many had claimed he was before he killed them. “So, what’s it gonna be, Colonel, fingernail or toe? Ooh, maybe a nail through your penis?” he said excitedly.

  The old man broke down to blubbering, but didn’t give him an answer. He held up his hand to his ear in an exaggerated expression for the assembled crowd. “What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.”

  “I’m sorry! You did the right thing. I shouldn’t have ruined your life.”

  “There you go! I forgive you. Wait,” he thought about what the colonel had said and then about their exchange when he was captured. “Do you remember why my life was ruined by you?”

  Panic flashed across the old man’s face. “I kicked you out of the Army.”

  Justin rolled his hand for more. The prisoner looked him up and down and said, “You went AWOL and I kick
ed you out.”

  Justin’s face contorted in anger. “You don’t even know who I am, do you?”

  “Justin,” the old man replied.

  He picked up his water bottle and threw it into the crowd. “I am the leader of the Vultures!” he screamed. “Does that help you figure it out yet?”

  “The computer hackers?” the colonel asked, confusion clearly setting in on his face.

  “That’s how we started. We’ve grown beyond that, so far beyond those early days. We are now an army of men and women, loyal to God, carrying out his wishes to purge the earth of humanity’s petty squabbles and materialistic ways. We are the future!”

  The crowd erupted in another cheer and he looked down on Harris. “I was your lead defensive computer systems operator at CyberCom. We defeated a major threat because I disobeyed your stupid orders and sought out the real attack while my team dealt with the diversion.”

  Realization dawned on his face. “Rustwood? Holy shit.”

  “Holy shit is right. I was set to promote to staff sergeant. Instead, you busted me to E-4 for disobeying you and then got me reduced to E-1 for a bogus weapons charge and kicked me out. I spent years bouncing between menial jobs trying to recover from what you did to me. Years. Do you realize what that does to someone?

  “No, I—”

  “Well, I’ve had a lot of time to think about what I’d do to you, Colonel. Now that I have you, you will beg for death. You will cry out to your false gods for forgiveness and an end to your suffering. But I will keep you healthy and won’t allow your body to quit on me. Together, we will get those years back, my friend.”

  He glanced off to the side where his men stood and shouted. “Bring me the pliers!”

  The crowd roared their approval at his decision. Finally, the talking was over, it was time for some action.

  NINE

  It took them another week to make it to Springfield. From a distance, it looked as if it had remained intact without taking too much damage, but they found out that the residents tore the city apart without any help from nuclear-tipped missiles. The ash was much thicker here than it had been in the mountains, which was likely due to the obliteration of both Kansas City and St. Louis on either side of the state less than two hundred miles away. The destruction of Little Rock to the south had ensured that no matter which direction the wind blew, the ash would make its way to Springfield.

 

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