Earth's Survivors Box Set [Books 1-7]

by Wendell G. Sweet

"I will be with you," she said. "I'll always be with you, my love."

  Jeremiah kissed her. "Maggie, I love you too. It won't be long, and then I'll be back, Honey."

  The older man walked slowly towards them across the field. "I have to go now, Honey." Jeremiah said. He kissed her good bye.

  Maggie stood in the field with the older woman and watched him walk off towards the setting sun. He seemed to slowly fade away as he walked, until he was no more.

  "Maggie?" the older woman asked, "would you like to walk with me?"

  "I would," she replied. "Will I see him soon, Lord?" she asked as they began to walk through the tall grass.

  "Look into your heart, Maggie, he has never left you," the woman replied.

  They walked through the grass in silence, a peaceable contenting silence. They crested a small hill, and looked down upon a wide green valley. A blue river snaked its way through the valley, and horses grazed upon the grass. Buffalo grazed contentedly beside them, as the sun rode low on the horizon. The older woman spoke, as they stopped at the crest.

  "This is the land that I promised to Jeremiah," she said. "He chose it himself as we walked one day. I wanted to bring you here to prepare it for him, so that it will be ready when he returns. Are you pleased, Maggie?"

  "It’s beautiful," she cried, as she looked out over the valley. "But how will I prepare it, lord?" she asked as she turned towards the older woman.

  "You will not be alone, Maggie, I will help you," the older woman said, as she smiled. "Can you swing an axe, or pound a nail?"

  "Course I kin," Maggie replied, returning the smile, "I learned when I was little, but you know that, Lord."

  "Well," the older woman said, as she began to roll up the sleeves of the old fashioned dress she wore. "I guess we better get to it, Maggie. Let’s see, a house, a barn, maybe a couple of fences, that about it?"

  "I never built anything from the ground up, Lord," Maggie replied.

  "Well I guess then, that it is time to learn. Come on child, let’s pick a place to build the house," the older woman said as she took Maggie's hand in her own and started down the hill.

  The two women walked down the hill in the direction of the river holding hands. When they reached the bottom, Maggie broke into a run. A smile lit her face as she ran through the tall grass towards the river. She spun around like a small child and turned towards the older woman.

  "Come on!" she called, smiling. "It's so beautiful." She spun again and skipped off into the tall grass, as the older woman smiled back and began to follow.

  Western, New York

  Jeremiah Edison

  Jeremiah continued walking down the long road.

  He had been in the field walking with his Lord one second and the next his feet had touched the roadway and he had been walking alone.

  The road was shattered in places, whole in others, he noticed, and grass had broken through the pavement in several places. Large clumps of wires hung down from leaning poles, casting shadows over the roadway, that were lengthened by the setting sun, but his spirit was not subdued by the shadows. The land seemed alive and the air tasted sweet as he drew it into his lungs and expelled it.

  He wore faded jeans and a white cotton tee shirt. Heavy boots clad his feet, and a rifle rested upon his broad back, suspended from a strap. He had no idea how he had come to be dressed this way, but it did not concern him. He also had no idea where he was. That did not greatly concern him either. The only thing he could feel and say did concern him was the meeting that he knew would eventually occur.

  "He knows," the older man had told him as they had walked across the field. "He will send someone to try to kill you. Be strong and walk with me, Jeremiah." That had been the last thing the older man had said before Jeremiah had walked away.

  As he continued to walk down the overgrown road, Jeremiah noticed a gnawing sensation in his stomach and realized he was hungry.

  "I'll be," he said aloud. "I can't remember the last time I was hungry." He smiled as he continued to walk and thought, I guess I better look for something to feed myself.

  He was surrounded by woods on both sides of the road, but through the trees on the right he could see water glistening in the setting sun. He pushed through the trees to look. A deep blue-black River flowed beside the road, through a high narrow passage of solid rock. He looked down at the river for a few minutes as the fading light glistened from its surface, wondering at its beauty, and then returned to the road and continued to walk along it.

  He came upon a small turn-out with a dirt road leading away from it toward a small cabin set into the woods, and he sat off down the dirt road in the direction of it. When he reached it he pulled the rusty screen door open and went inside.

  The place was empty. Jeremiah went to the old wooden cupboards set in to the wall and opened them. He searched through the packed shelves until he found some canned goods towards the rear of one. He took the cans, along with some cookies and an opener from one of the drawers beneath the cabinets; fished out a fork as well, and drew up a chair to the small pine table that sat in the middle of the kitchen. He ate the cold stew from the can and munched on the cookies as he sat quietly. When he finished he walked off through the house to look around.

  He found what he was looking for. An old canvas backpack with a small canteen attached to the side by a chain hung from a wooden peg near the rear door. Almost as if it had been left waiting there for him. He filled the small canteen with water from a jug in the old refrigerator, drank deeply from the jug, and then returned it to its former place. The water was warm, but it quenched his thirst. He carefully went through the cupboards and filled the old backpack with canned goods; the remainder of the cookies, and leaving the house headed back to the road to resume walking. He said a mental prayer of thanks for the food as he walked.

  As the sun sank deeper below the trees he came to a small car beside the road. It was empty and he crawled into the front seat, reclined it, and fell instantly asleep.

  As Jeremiah slept the sun dropped below the horizon, and a clouded pale moon rose, shedding its ghostly light down upon the vine covered roadway.

  Suddenly a silhouetted figure moved beside the car, seeming to emerge from the roadway itself, and slowly began to take shape. Although its feet touched the roadway, the heavy work boots that clad them made no sound.

  The figure moved into the moonlight revealing itself, as it stood staring into the small car at the sleeping man inside.

  The pale light revealed a tall and thin young man, whose dark hair curled around his somewhat spiked ears. He was dressed entirely in black.

  A wide black leather-grained belt encircled his waist, and a forged silver skull served as a buckle, where the belt fastened in front.

  "So it's true," the young man whispered, revealing sharp rows of yellowed teeth that sat crookedly in his mouth as he spoke. "You have come."

  A look of anger came into his eyes and contorted his face, making it appear as though he were struggling to maintain control.

  "I will kill you," the dark haired man hissed through his yellowed teeth.

  He stared through the glass for a few seconds longer, then slowly melted back into the roadway.

  Jeremiah came awake in the small car. He could just make out the roadway in the pale moonlight. What? He wondered.

  He felt no fear of the encroaching darkness, but could not shake the feeling that something frightful had awakened him.

  He stared out into the darkness for a few minutes, but saw nothing and his apprehension slipped away. He laid back into the seat and did not awake again until morning.

  The moon cast its light down upon the small car as if it were protecting and watching over it, until the sun returned in the morning.

  A wolf howled from deep within the woods and then fell silent.

  Watertown, New York

  Willie Lefray

  Willie Lefray walked down the middle of Main street in Watertown New York. The street was overgrown wi
th the vines that seemed to be everywhere.

  The Man had sent him. Well, not sent him exactly, he thought, more like put him here. It was a time of magic, Willie thought. There was no other way for him to comprehend it.

  The Man had called him into the large tent that had been set up for him in the desert. To Willie it looked like a huge circus tent, complete with a steeped center. The atmosphere inside was far from a circus though.

  Willie thought back to the night before...

  The Man, as everyone referred to him, Willie included, had been seated in the middle of the huge tent on a small square of carpet. There were no other furnishings, save several small oil lamps placed strategically around the perimeter of the tent.

  The air was hot. Much hotter than the cold desert air outside the tent, and a sickly sweet smell assaulted him as he entered the tent. The smell, along with the heat, accompanied The Man wherever he went.

  The first time Willie had smelled it, he had been afraid that he would not be able to bear it, that he would vomit, but he had gradually become accustomed to it...

  "Willie," The Man said softly. "Come... Sit." He motioned to a place directly in front of him. Willie walked to the place he indicated and sat down.

  "Willie, look at me," he said.

  Willie raised his eyes from the sandy floor of the tent, and gazed into the black eyes of the man before him. It was not just the iris surrounding the pupil that was black, but the entire eye. The eyes that stared back at him seemed to bore into him.

  "Willie, we have a small problem," he said, "I have been lied to by the father of lies." He seemed to grow agitated as he spoke. "It would seem as though," he said struggling to control himself, "we will not have time to prepare for the battle, as I had hoped. Perhaps though, it will be better this way. I see no reason to expend my mental energy being concerned about it."

  Willie watched him as he talked. His hands gestured wildly in the air, and his yellowed teeth flashed in the oily light from the lamps.

  "But! All is not lost Willie, as I have you, don't I." He smiled even wider as he laid his icy hand upon Willie's shoulder and squeezed. Willie flinched involuntarily and The Man quickly withdrew his hand,balling it beneath his chin as if he were thinking.

  He reached behind him and retrieved a small plastic bag. Syringes floated among the white powder in the bag.

  "Here, let me help you," he said as he reached for one of the small oil lamps. He picked up the jagged bottom of a rusty can that had been floating over the lamp. The can was a dull glowing red from the heat of the flame, and a bubbling murky liquid simmered in the bottom. As he picked it up small wisps of smoke curled up from the fingers that held the can.

  "OOOUUCCHH!" he exclaimed in mock pain as he giggled. "Nearly burned myself. I must be more careful." He continued to giggle as he blew on the liquid to cool it.

  He reached for Willie's left arm and unbuttoned and rolled up the sleeve of the shirt to his biceps. Angry red punctures could be seen dotting the inside crook of Willie's elbow. The Man picked up a small syringe from the sandy floor beside him and began to fill it with the cooled liquid.

  He had gripped Willie's biceps and squeezed until a vein had popped up in the crook of his elbow, amid all the angry red punctures. He pushed the needle home and depressed the plunger, injecting the liquid into Willie's body, then sat back and curled his legs under him on the small carpet square. Waiting... Smiling.

  "Better?" he asked, still smiling.

  Willie had no idea what the white powder was. He knew, however that it wasn't cocaine. This was better than any cocaine he had ever done. It made him feel strong, invincible even, but not like cocaine. It was different somehow. Willie found his voice.

  "Much," he said. "What do you need from me?" he returned the smile.

  "In a moment... In a moment, Willie, but first we must talk about this place. Here," he said, "look."

  As he spread his hands apart slightly, a greenish mist seemed to seep from them and begin to take shape. Within the mist, Willie could see a dark cliff with what seemed to be a black void within the rock face. A river rolled and tossed yellow foam beneath the cliff. He seemed to be drawn towards and then sucked into the black hole in the rock. He flew through a long tunnel of solid rock until he arrived at a larger tunnel, which appeared to have be carved out of the same rock. He flew through the larger tunnel skimming over the tops of stalled and silent trucks until another side passage appeared.

  "This is where you will need to go," The man said, in a sleepy, hypnotic voice. "That will get you inside of where you need to be. There will be others who will join you to help you. Do you understand?"

  Willie nodded his head.

  The man laughed loudly for several seconds before he spoke again. "Don't fuck around and screw it up, got it?" His finger stabbed viciously into Willie's chest as he lowered his voice to a whisper and continued without waiting for his reply.

  “If you do, my friend, I will eat you... Alive... Piece... By... Delectable... Piece.” The stabbing finger had punctuated the last few words, and he smiled widely, revealing his sharp yellow teeth...

  Willie had sat shivering, and a shudder crept through his body now as he recalled it.

  He had taken the small bag with its unknown magic white powder, and left when The Man had suddenly sat back, laughing once more, and pointed towards the flap of the tent that served as the door.

  The black armored rider on horseback waited. He had lifted Willie behind him. Without a word the rider spurred the horse and sped off into the night.

  Then what? He wondered now as he walked down the empty street.

  When he had returned to himself it had been near morning and the sky had just begun to color; light seeping slowly to the ground. The sun had risen fully as he walked, and a short time after that he had come to the sign, wondered at it for a moment and then proceeded into the city limits of Watertown.

  As he walked down a long sloping hill a small lake appeared in the middle of the downtown section. It seemed oddly out of place to Willie at first, but as he continued to walk and grow closer to the bottom of the hill, he thought that it actually looked as though it had always been there. As if it belonged there.

  A small group of people stood by the lake watching Willie descend the hill. They were not much more than small human forms from this perspective, but not so small that Willie could not see the rifles they held.

  Willie, who carried no weapon, was not concerned. He lifted his hands, and waved them in the air in greeting as he reached the bottom of the small hill, and walked toward the group.

  A tall young boy, with long greasy hair stepped out of the crowd as Willie approached, followed by a young man with dark hair, who appeared to be in his twenties, Willie thought. They were no longer just holding the rifles, Willie saw; they were pointing them at him. Willie flashed his teeth in a wide smile and stuck out his hand. The young man with the dark hair was surprised into shaking the hand he found thrust into his.

  "Willie Lefray," Willie said, as he pumped the young man’s hand up, and down, "pleased to meet you." He allowed his gaze to shift downward to the rifle the young man held, and then looked back into his eyes, as he spoke.

  "You don't intend to shoot me, do you, Ronnie?" He smiled at the young man as his mouth dropped open.

  Willie gently removed the rifle from his hands before he continued to speak.

  "I'm here to help, Ronnie old buddy," he said, as he set the rifle down on the ground, loosely holding it in one hand by the barrel.

  "The Man sent me. We need to talk, old bud."

  Willie guided the young man to a nearby bench and sat him down. He turned towards the group of people. Silent now, staring openly and fearfully.

  "Hey!" Cheer up folks!" he said smiling.

  He turned and sat down next to the man on the bench.

  "Who's in charge here," Willie asked, replacing the smile with a sarcastic smirk.

  "I-I am," Ron Saser stammered from beside hi
m.

  "Well, Ronnie, not no more," Willie said smiling once again. "From now on I am." He turned the smile off once more. Replacing it this time with a determined grimace. "Any objections?" he asked politely as he stared down the small group.

  One by one they dropped their eyes from his and his cold stare.

  "Good," he replied, once again smiling. "Now who can show me to the river?" When no immediate reply was forthcoming, he said, "Okay, I'll take volunteers. Let's see...You...You, you and, oh what the fuck, you can all come, I'm easy to get along with."

  He stood up from the bench and faced the small group. "You," he said pointing to a young girl, "you belong to me."

  He still held the rifle loosely in his hand by the barrel, with the butt resting on the ground.

  "Hey!" the young man with the long greasy hair protested. As he started towards him, he dropped his rifle and clenched his fists.

  "Hay is for horses, mother-fucker," Willie replied calmly, as he quickly bounced the rifle from the pavement and into his hands.

  The young man realized too late that he had foolishly dropped his own rifle. Willie squeezed the trigger of the rifle and a large smoking hole appeared in the boy’s forehead between the greasy strands of hair. He fell to the ground where he flopped for a few seconds before he lay still.

  "Anybody else?" Willie asked, with the smile still riding upon his face. No one met his eyes. "I didn't think so," he said, answering his own question. He reached out and took the girl by the hand as he rose from the bench, and drew her to him. He could feel her shaking body against his own and it excited him. Later, he told himself. Later.

  He turned his attention back to the small silent group that stood before him.

  "The river?" he reminded them.

  "You heard him," Ron Saser said from behind him, as he also stood up. His voice sounded determined, but his eyes looked sick and pale, and they darted nervously in their deeply ringed sockets. "Let’s go." Ron started off towards the river and the small group followed behind him. Willie threw his arm around the shivering young girl beside him and followed.

  When they reached the river, Ron stopped, and waited for Willie by the rocky bank. Willie came forward, and, to Ron's surprise, jumped down to a small ledge that was barely above the water below the bank. A dark void opened into the rock face to one side. Ron herded the rest of the group down onto the ledge, after handing the young girl down.