Paths of Righteousness

by Ryan King

  Jasper dropped the rifle and looked at his shoulder. A long strip of flesh and muscle hung down across his body in a bloody and painful swath. "Go get help," he rasped. "Quick now, before they come back. Run, go on, Mouse."

  She hesitated and then took off sprinting towards camp.

  *******

  Jasper lay asleep in a corner of Billy Fox's makeshift yurt. The Creek had cleaned his wound and stitched everything back together. He had a slight fever, but nothing to be worried about, they said. What he needed most now was rest.

  Susan looked over at Little Mouse. Little Lion, she reminded herself. The tribe had decided her new name was Little Lion after this afternoon's exploits. The girl was drawing on a piece of cardboard with an old ink pen.

  "Little Lion," Susan said to her.

  The girl looked around quickly and then back at her work.

  "Do you like that name?" Susan asked. "Is it better than Little Mouse?"

  No response, the girl kept drawing.

  Susan crept over slowly to peer over the girl's shoulder. She saw letters. The same letters over and over. They spelled a name.

  "Mindy," Susan said. "Is that your name?"

  The little girl turned suddenly toward Susan and smiled the broadest smile Susan had ever seen on her face.

  "That is your name, isn't it?" Susan asked smiling herself.

  The little girl nodded.

  Impulsively, Susan reached out and grabbed the girl in a hug, holding her close.

  Mindy stiffened, then slowly relaxed. After a moment she returned the embrace and clasped the older woman close to her.

  "Mindy, oh Mindy," said Susan close to tears. "What in the world happened to you?"

  Little Lion didn't answer.

  Chapter 2 - Ghosts

  Alexandra shivered in the cold and snuggled down deeper into her parka. Sometime in the night, the wind stopped blowing allowing her to get some sleep. She tried to move back into the blessed cocoon of blissful rest and oblivion, but the sound of birds was maddening.

  Birds?she thought.Birds don’t make noises at night.

  Opening her eyes slowly she saw bright sunlight glinting off white snow in every direction. Fortunately she had tied herself into the fork of the tree she'd selected or she would have fallen to the ground. She hung precariously from her perch, the floor of the forest twenty feet below her.

  She looked up at the sun and groaned when she saw it was nearly noon.They'll be way ahead of me by now, she thought.I'm a light sleeper. How could I not wake up?

  Because you're exhausted, said the voice of her dead mother in her head.You need to stop before you get yourself killed. You've done enough.

  After untying herself and all her gear, Alexandra slowly made her way down the side of the tall tree using the lineman's spikes on her boots. Her legs shook with the strain. She hadn't really eaten more than bits and pieces of berries or scraps in at least five days.

  Alexandra made her way carefully toward where the men had made camp the night before. She reminded herself to be careful. They could have laid in a trap for her, though she doubted it. Even if they had suspected something, they wouldn't likely wait all this time after dawn. They would have rightly assumed they lost anyone following them.

  Moving over to the remains of the fire, Alexandra picked up a stick and poked around until she found a small ember still burning. She blew on it repeatedly until it glowed bright. Carefully adding twigs and branches, a small fire rose out of the frozen ground and she huddled gratefully around its warmth.

  When the worst of the cold left her extremities, she walked around the edge of the camp trying to see where the men had gone. She found a trail, then another and another. In fact it looked like every man had taken a separate trail, all headed generally north.

  Why would they split up?she wondered.Unless they had different targets or were trying to throw a trail. I could follow any of them, but what if it's a diversion? Trying to make it harder to track them because of the snow. They could link back up a mile or so away.

  That's enough,said an image of her mother standing before her.You're dead on your feet and not thinking clearly.

  And hallucinating, she thought and laughed louder than she intended. Alexandra went back to the camp and looked around. After a few moments she found what she was looking for. She dug slowly in the freshly turned earth in case it was the men's latrine she was digging up. Fortunately, it wasn't.

  Pulling out the scraps of the men's dinner last night, she used snow to wipe dirt and grime off leftover rabbit bones. Her fingers were shaking with hunger as she put the bones in her mouth and chewed on the gristle and even marrow that remained. She exhausted all the bones and then pulled the two rabbit pelts out of the bottom of the hole and began eating the bits of raw attached skin on the hide. After a while she realized icy streaks dissected her face.

  "Stop crying," she said to herself. "Don't be a baby."

  Look at yourself, her mother said squatting down in front of her.Don't you think this has gone on long enough?

  She's right,said an image of Joshua striding forward.You've already warned them. You're killing yourself for nothing.

  She nearly sobbed at the sight of Joshua. Wanting nothing more than to be in his arms, she reached out to him knowing it was a phantom. She wanted to run her fingers through his long hair and bury her face in his chest. Joshua understood her, she never had to be anything but who she was around him.

  "I miss you," she said.

  I know, he answered.But you've got to stop this madness or you'll kill yourself.

  Willing herself to stop crying, Alexandra closed her eyes and then slowly opened them. No one was there. She was alone.

  Maybe they're right, she thought.It's enough. What the hell am I trying to do anyway? What am I trying to prove?

  She heard a chuckle and looked over to see David leaning against a tree looking at her. Not a speck of snow rested on his dark hair or face. He was beautiful in a deadly sort of way, she realized.

  So, he said.The Huntress is going to give up on the biggest quarry she's ever stalked? When the chips are down and it means something more than meat or proving something to someone, you're just going to give up?

  "You son of a bitch," she said angry. "You don't know shit."

  David smiled and nodded.I know you. Better than Joshua. Maybe better than yourself.

  "That's a lie," she answered. "I've shared everything with Joshua. He's twice the man you'll ever be."

  David didn't seem offended.You may be right about that, but you know he's not the one for you.

  "Go away," she said and closed her eyes. She thought she felt the apparition move close to her, then it was gone. She opened her eyes and was alone again.

  Am I really going to stop?she asked.He's right about this being the biggest and most dangerous game I've ever stalked. And this time it's for something real, something important.

  She wiped the tears from her dirty face, picked up her backpack and rifle, and started walking north again.

  Chapter 3 - Awakening

  At first Nathan wasn't sure where he was. The bed he lay on was soft, and he was covered in a warm clean blanket. He saw green plants and trees above him warmed by sun streaming in through clear domed glass, heavy curtains tied back out of the way to the sides. Nathan could also see what appeared to be solar panels atop the dome.

  Suddenly remembering where he was, Nathan threw the blankets back and reached down with both hands toward his legs.

  They were both there.Thank God, thought Nathan.I've know plenty of men who did fine after losing limbs, but I'm not likely to get a prosthesis.

  "I see you are awake and have already discerned the good news," said a rich female voice to his right.

  Nathan turned and recognized the older woman from before. Miriam, the healer. "Thank you," he said, not sure exactly what to say.

  "Don't thank me," she said. "Thank God. I was prepared to saw the leg off a couple of times, but your son dissuade
d me against my better judgment. You still have a fever, but the worst of the infection is healing. No threat of gangrene either thanks to my little helpers."

  Nathan looked around expecting to see nurses or children. "Little helpers?"

  She pointed at his bandaged leg. "There. Phaenicia sericata. Most people think any breed will work, but it has to be the right species or you invite myiasis."

  "I don't understand," said Nathan shaking his head.

  "Myiasis," she said slowly. "Infestation. Some breeds of flies produce maggots that will infest live tissue instead of just eating the old. Once they get in there, it's tough to get them out."

  Nathan suddenly felt like there were thousands of squirming and crawling larva on his skin. "Maggots? There's maggots on my leg?"

  "Now don't get squeamish on me," she said with a smile. "Your little buddies there are doing you a big favor. Give them until tonight and I bet that wound will be completely cleaned. It will still take time to heal, but we can bind it up after that."

  "But...maggots?" said Nathan. "Wasn't there anything else you could use?"

  "Like what?" she asked. "Medical supplies aren't exactly plentiful and those we have managed to find have shelf lives. That metal bar that went in your leg must have been covered in germs and bacteria. You're lucky you're not hopping around on one leg the rest of your days."

  Nathan laid his head back on the pillow and sighed. He tried not to think about the maggots eating at his wound. Now that he knew they were there it was hard not to feel their maddening movements.

  "Let me go get Caleb," she said, standing and putting a hand on his shoulder.

  Nathan closed his eyes and heard children playing happily. He felt the warm sun on his face and even a faint breeze. Looking around, he saw small hatches in the side of the water tower that allowed air to circulate. Makeshift rooms could be separated by hanging curtains on ropes, but they were all drawn back now giving the impression of vast space.

  The tall thin man seemed to appear out of nowhere and sit beside him. "Praise God," he said. "He must still have plans for you."

  "And my leg," added Nathan.

  "That too," he chuckled.

  Nathan stared at the man a little uncertain. "I was a pretty out of it when I came here. I'm not really sure I know who you are or where I am."

  The man nodded. "It's understandable. I'm Reverend Caleb Street and you are in the Ark that houses those He has chosen to save from the evil and iniquity out there in the world."

  "Like Noah's Ark," asked Nathan.

  "In a sense, yes," Caleb answered. "Many years ago I had a dream. I saw fire falling from the sky and death and disease and famine. We had just moved into this land and I then saw the old water tower on the edge of the property in my dream. It was filled with people and light and hope."

  "So you started preparing a survival shelter in a water tower," said Nathan.

  "It is more than that," answered Caleb. "This is a place of safety where we can endure God's judgment and the apocalypse until He decides to take us away."

  Nathan sighed and closed his eyes. "And what if this isn't the apocalypse? What if God isn't coming to take you away?"

  Caleb surprised him. "I've asked myself that very question, many times."

  "Seriously?" asked Nathan opening his eyes.

  "Yes. I had a dream, that's all. Doesn't mean I'm a prophet. God sent me a message to allow me to save my family and others, but I do believe we are in the end times."

  "They've been saying that for thousands of years."

  "True," answered Caleb. "But it is what we believe."

  "What if you're wrong?" asked Nathan.

  Caleb shrugged and smiled. He spread his hands wide indicating the inside of the water tower. "There are worse places to be wrong. Do you have some place better?"

  Nathan started to say no and then paused. "As a matter of fact I do. If I can only get there."

  The old man looked skeptical. "If it was such a good place, why did you leave it?"

  Holding up his right hand with the brand on it, Nathan answered, "They kicked me out. Exiled me for trying to expose someone in our government who was intent on doing us all harm."

  "There is always a viper in the midst," Caleb answered.

  "Even here?" Nathan asked with a smile.

  Caleb frowned. "Even here. Just because God provided us shelter doesn't mean he meant for it to be a paradise. Nor does it mean He will stop testing us until we are called to Him."

  A rather obvious thought occurred to Nathan. "Why are you helping us? Why did you take us in?"

  "We saw your campfire that night from up here," Caleb answered.

  "And?"

  "God put you in our path. You were in need and were not of those who had rejected God."

  "What if we had been?" asked Nathan.

  "The other reason we had to go down," answered Caleb. "God brings us two types. Those who He puts in our path to help and those He puts in our path to destroy."

  Nathan thought for a moment before speaking. "So, you might have killed us all."

  "Certainly," answered Caleb.

  "You've done this before?"

  Caleb nodded. "Many times. Does this bother you?"

  Wanting to be bothered, he closed his eyes and sighed. "No. I've done the same. You protect your own, but why not just let them pass?"

  "Like I said," answered Caleb, "God brought them to us for a reason. Are we to allow them to go on to do evil elsewhere? Are we to deny God the work He has placed before us?"

  "What if you are wrong?"

  "It is impossible to get wrong," Caleb answered with a smile. "We cannot harm anyone who God does not want harmed. He would not allow it to happen. Even if we did, and they were one of God's Children, we will have done them a great service."

  "A great service?" asked Nathan.

  "But of course," Caleb answered. "We will have taken them away from this world of pain and sin and sent them to eternal life with God."

  "If you believe that," said Nathan, "then why not kill yourselves? Drink a bunch of poisoned Kool-Aid like Jim Jones and his followers. Get it over with and move on to paradise."

  Caleb frowned and leaned back. "Suicide is a sin. I told you God had plans for us. For everyone. Perhaps you are here to tempt us."

  "I'm not here for anything except to get home," said Nathan.

  "Are you sure?" asked Caleb. "Perhaps God brought you and your son and that old man here to start new. You could find a place with us. We would welcome you in."

  "Thank you," said Nathan. "I know as well as anyone what an offer like that means, but I have to get home to my wife and other son. She is pregnant and in danger. I have to do what I can to protect her."

  "That is your calling from God," said Caleb definitively.

  Nathan shrugged. "In a sense. It is what I must do, or die trying."

  Caleb stood suddenly. "Then we will do what we can to help you. A few more days of rest are needed for that leg, but we can start preparing."

  "Thank you," said Nathan.

  "No need to thank me," said Caleb. "That is what God put you in our path for. Thank the Almighty for His provision and assistance."

  "I think I'll reserve judgment on that regard till I see if He gets us home safe," answered Nathan.

  "Fair enough," said Caleb turning and walking away.

  Chapter 4 - Refugees

  Sergeant Major Ernest Givens wasn't exactly sure what to do. They had gotten Paducah refugees across the Ohio River and blown the bridge, but now what? Thousands of civilians were looking to him to take care of them. Give us food, they said. We're cold, they said. Where are we going to go? they asked. He didn't want to be in charge of them and was tempted to sneak off with his men in the middle of the night.

  He admitted it was likely his own fault. They initially camped along the river across from Paducah and watched the crucifixion of Brazen. It had nearly started a riot among the refugees and surviving gang members. Then the forces in
Paducah had started firing artillery into the camp. Givens heard the sound and knew what it meant. He yelled at everyone to take cover, but it was too late. Hundreds were torn apart by antipersonnel artillery shells. Givens ordered and cajoled everyone to flee east into the wood line and out of view. Since then the survivors had looked to him to tell them what to do.

  "There's a town up ahead," said Sergeant Booker into the handheld radio. He was one of the seven soldiers with Givens and was at the very front of the long column. "Sign says Eviston, population one thousand and twenty-six."

  Givens looked up at the darkening sky and spoke into the radio. "We'll shelter there tonight. Try to talk to any locals you see. We mean them no harm, but we have to stay for the night."

  "Don't think they have much choice," said Booker. "We're going to multiply their town population by at least ten times in the next couple of hours."

  "Just try to get them out of the cold if you can," Givens said, not wanting to think about what would happen tonight to those that couldn't find shelter. "Priority is to women and children. Pass the word."

  "Yes, Sergeant Major."

  He looked up ahead at the long line of people trudging down the highway leaving a trail of dirty mashed snow in their wake. Occasionally you would see a discarded bloody bandage or even a body that had been dragged off to the side if someone had felt charitable to even do that act. Most of the dead lay where they fell, dazed and dirty men and women stepping over the bodies of their former neighbors.

  Givens looked back at the two buses they had been able to salvage. The gasoline wouldn't last much longer, but it had allowed them to rotate some of the children and pregnant women out of the weather for a few hours each. Two of his soldiers were at the front of the first bus and two at the rear of the second bus. The front two took on the additional duty of pulling bodies out of the way so the buses wouldn't run over them, but that wasn't their primary purpose.

  Feeling eyes on him, Givens turned and contemplated the group of Brazen's old gang members to his left. They were all fierce looking and silent, staring at him as they walked. Givens placed his hand on his assault rifle and gave them a warning. Jacko, their big leader, laid his hand on a pistol at his belt in response. Givens tromped that way for a moment, but then had to turn back and watch where he was going so as not to trip and fall.