Endworld #28 Dark Days

by rebel4477

  “How many is a mess?” Blade asked.

  “Oh, eight to ten ought to fill my gut,” Hickok said. “Are your missus and the sprout up yet?”

  “No. So keep it down.” Blade cracked more eggs into the frying pan and added strips of bacon.

  “Those vittles smell awful good,” Hickok said. “You ever get tired of Jenny, you can leave her and cook for me.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell your wife you said that,” Geronimo said.

  Blade took down three cups from the cupboard and brought the coffee pot over and filled one for each of them. As he was setting the pot back on the stove he asked, “What did you think of the girl?”

  “Right pretty,” Hickok said.

  “It’s a miracle she’s alive,” Geronimo said. “I heard her tell Bertha her parents were killed by a chemical cloud five days ago.”

  “Wonder what she lived on?”

  “Her guardian angel was lookin’ after her,” Hickok said. “Hey, maybe Bertha will want to take the kid in. She’d be a good ma. She’s tough as nails but a kitten on the inside.”

  Geronimo laughed. “I wish you would say that to her face so I could watch her beat the snot out of you.”

  “Are all you redskins so bloodthirsty?”

  “Just once I’d like for you to talk like the rest of us,” Geronimo lamented, and turned to Blade. “But the knucklehead has a point. Bertha and Sundance have tried to have a kid and can’t. They might see the girl as a godsend.”

  Blade turned a sizzling strip of bacon over. “I’ll go talk to Plato as soon as we’re done eating. He’ll call a meeting and the Family will formally welcome Mary to the Home.”

  “Any excuse for a get-together is fine by me,” Hickok said. “I get a mite weary of all the grim and gritty.”

  Geronimo arched an eyebrow. “You, of all people, are tired of killing?”

  “It would be a fine world if we never had to. But it is what it is. And since I’m right fond of breathin’, and fond of a heap of folks I’d like to see go on breathin’, I have to stop the breathin’ of those who think they should stop us from doin’ so.”

  “That almost made sense.”

  “If it didn’t, you should hold a candle to your ear hole and have someone see if they can see clear out the other side.” Hickok sighed. “What I’m tired of are all the critters and muties and freaks out to do us in.”

  “Thank the Spirit for our high walls,” Geronimo said in earnest.

  “Thank Kurt Carpenter, the gent who built the compound,” Hickok amended.

  “Our Home has stood for over a hundred years,” Blade reminded them. “And if we have our way it’ll stand for a hundred more.”

  “I bet Mary is happy she found us,” Geronimo said. “For the first time in her life she can live without fear.”

  “I hear that, pard,” Hickok said. “Can you imagine what it would be like if we couldn’t?”

  Chapter 5

  From journals written by the Founder and from books in the library, the Family knew that before World War Three the sky had been blue and wonderfully clear except when the weather turned temperamental . That was no longer true. The copious amounts of fallout and ash and pollutants propelled into the atmosphere during the war had plunged the world into a new and literal Dark Age. Only in the past decade had the sky become less constantly overcast.

  On this particular morning shafts of sunlight filtered through.

  Everyone gathered to greet the new arrival. With Bertha hovering over her, Mary smiled and shook hands and said how happy she was to meet all of them.

  Blade introduced her to his wife, Jenny, and his son, Gabe.

  For a fleeting moment, as Gabe and Mary stepped close and shook hands, a peculiar expression came over the girl. It was there and it was gone. Blade didn’t know what to make of it.

  A man with long white hair and more wrinkles than Methuselah approached and offered his own hand.

  “This is Plato,” Blade informed her. “Our Leader.”

  “I’m honored, sir,” Mary said, and sweetly curtsied. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “Have you now, child?” Plato said. “I hope they were good things.”

  “Is it true that without you this whole compound would fall apart?”

  “Hardly, child,” Plato said, grinning. “None of us are indispensable. Our Founder, a man by the name of Kurt Carpenter, planned well. Were I to perish, the Family would pick a new Leader from one of the other Elders.”

  “You don’t say,” Mary said, as if it were the most interesting news in the world.

  “You’ll learn all about the history of our Family after you’re formally approved and attend our school.”

  Seemingly out of the blue, Mary mentioned, “My father told me that your Family belongs to something called the Freedom Federation. What is that?”

  “Various survivors like us, who formed an alliance.” Plato’s features clouded. “We’ve lost contact with them. They’ve all gone strangely silent. We can’t raise them on our radios.”

  “Why do you think that is?”

  “We have no idea.”

  Blade said, “If it keeps up, I’ll take Alpha Triad to Denver to find out what’s going on.”

  “I hope you don’t have to,” Jenny said.

  “The Warriors have made runs before.”

  “Yes, Alpha more than any of the other Triads,” Jenny said. “But I’ll still worry.” She made as if to say more but glanced at their son and frowned.

  “Now, now,” Plato said. “Our failure to communicate with our allies could be due to something as simple as atmospheric interference.”

  “Or maybe someone isn’t letting you get in touch with them,” Mary said. “Blocking you, somehow.”

  Plato regarded her with renewed interest. “It would require technology far beyond anything that now exists. It isn’t like before the Big Blast when there were scores of satellites in orbit around the planet and scientists were delving into unlocking the secrets of the basic matter of the universe.”

  “You never know, though,” Mary said with her usual charming smile.

  Blade thought her response strangely adult for someone so young.

  “Enough of this serious stuff,” Bertha said, and patted Mary on the head. “How about I give you a tour so you’ll know what’s what?”

  “I would like that very much.”

  Plato idly stroked his beard as the pair walked off. “Interesting child.”

  “She’s a pretty girl,” Gabe remarked.

  Blade and Jenny looked at him.

  “She is,” Gabe said.

  Plato crooked a finger at Blade. “I’d like a word with you alone. If it’s all right with you, Jenny, of course.” When she nodded, the Family’s Leader led the way over to a maple tree.

  Blade automatically checked the branches overhead for movement. He well remembered the time a mutated squirrel got into the Home.

  “Have the Warriors noticed anything unusual lately?” Plato asked.

  “If we did I would have reported it to you. Why?”

  Plato motioned at a thin young woman in a cotton shift who apparently had been waiting for just this moment. She came over, looking worried. “Tell him what you told me this morning, Clarice.”

  Blade was mildly startled . Every Family member had a title that reflected their status. He was a Warrior. His wife was a Healer. Others were Tillers and Hunters and whatnot. Clarice was an Empath. She and several others possessed a form of psychic cognizance he couldn’t begin to explain. An empathy with the underlying currents of reality, Plato once called it.

  “I had a dream last night,” Clarice said. “It was most vivid.”

  “Tell him the particulars,” Plato directed. “

  In it, the Family was gathered here on the Commons, like we are now. Everyone was having a good time and everything was fine.” Clarice paused. “Then a giant cloud came over
the wall and blotted out the light. It grew so dark I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. I heard screams and cries and wailing and then a great weight bore down on me as if I was being crushed. It was most vivid,” she said again.

  “Dreams sometimes are,” Blade said.

  “This wasn’t a normal dream,” Clarice insisted. “I feel in my bones that it’s a warning. A harbinger, if you will.”

  “Of what, exactly?”

  Clarice gazed at the sky and frowned. “I can’t be more specific. But I have this terrible feeling that dark days are ahead.”

  Chapter 6

  The creature couldn’t sustain a human form indefinitely. For a few hours out of every twenty-four it must assume its own shape. Otherwise its tissues and organs suffered lasting damage.

  So it was that shortly before midnight it silently slipped out of Bertha and Sundance’s cabin . They were asleep in the bedroom, and it was using their couch.

  Plato, the Family’s Leader, had offered to put the little girl up in the dormitory Block, but as it had done with Blade, the creature asked in its nicest manner that it be permitted to stay with Bertha.

  Now, with the cool night breeze fanning its face, the creature sought a secluded spot to transform. The darkness was no hindrance. It could see almost as well as in broad daylight.

  All was going well.

  Its information had proven accurate. The compound did indeed cover about thirty acres. The Blocks were in the western section, the cabins in the middle, tilled and wooded areas to the east. The high walls were topped with barbed wire, the drawbridge solid enough to withstand a direct hit from a tank.

  Their precious Founder had planned well.

  This Family, as they styled themselves, fascinated the creature. For humans they were remarkably organized and disciplined. There was none of the chaos and decay it had witnessed in other human societies. Nor did any of the Family try to lord it over the others, as the elites in nearly every human culture did. Those who styled themselves smarter or better than the rest of their fellow humans invariably tried to rule them.

  It smiled at the human conceit of manipulating other humans when in fact the infantile apes were ridiculously easy to manipulate themselves, as its kind had recently demonstrated in the Civilized Zone and the Free State of California. It was amusing that Plato and Blade were mystified by their inability to contact their former allies. If they only knew.

  The shapeshifter was so deep in musing that it almost blundered. Just in time its senses warned it of others close by. Ducking around a pine, it crouched and peered out.

  It recognized them right away. Two were hybrids created in test-tubes, the only ones of their kind at the compound. The third was—-it didn’t know what. An abomination, even by its standards.

  Lynx, Ferret and Gremlin were their names , as it recalled. Lynx was part human, part feline. Ferret’s features and body resembled that of his namesake. Gremlin didn’t resemble anything. He was a genetic mongrel, a failed experiment. Grey of skin and hairless, he was the only one of his kind on the planet.

  For a few moments it worried that they had been assigned to watch Bertha’s cabin and had seen it leave. But no, they were walking and talking with no regard for its presence. Why they were up so late, it had no idea. Then it remembered. They were Warriors. Bravo Triad. Since the time was near to midnight, it could be that they were to relieve whichever Triad was currently on wall duty.

  In its mind the creature ticked the Triads off. Blade, Hickok and Geronimo were Alpha Triad. Spartacus, Bertha and Shane were Gamma . A man named Ares, Sundance, and a woman called Helen made up Omega Triad. Zulu Triad consisted of Samson, Sherry—-Hickok’s wife—-and Achilles. The last Triad, Beta, included Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, an archer called Teucer, and a Warrior who had taken the name Yama. That last one, it had been told, was special. How that could be when he was nothing but a human baffled it. Beta Triad wasn’t at the Home at the moment. Bertha had mentioned they were off in the Family’s special vehicle, the SEAL.

  The hybrids were almost out of sight.

  Rising, the creature crept to the north until it came to the inner moat. A trail led east into a strip of woodland bordering a corn field.

  Closing its eyes, it willed its pores to release the chemicals that triggered the change . Delight spread through it as its body elongated and expanded and it became itself again. Languidly stretching, it smacked its lips and rimmed its teeth with the tip of its long tongue.

  “Who’s down there?” The creature stiffened. It had been careless. Someone was up on the rampart.

  “I know someone is there. Identify yourself.”

  A Warrior. It had met him at the gathering to welcome Mary. Achilles, he called himself. He must have been on his way to be relieved and seen something.

  “Answer me or I’m coming down there,” Achilles said.

  It was puzzled as to how he could. The only stairs were near the drawbridge. It saw him bend and heard metal scrape, and suddenly he was descending a rope with remarkable agility. When he was a few feet above the water he put his feet against the wall, pushed off, and swung across.

  “Who’s there ?” Achilles demanded again, his hand on the hilt of a short sword. He also had an auto pistol, a Bersa .380, and an SMG slung over his shoulder.

  The creature flattened and dug its fingers into the ground for purchase. His scent filled its nostrils, and the craving caught hold. It was taking a pill daily to suppress its hunger but it couldn’t suppress the need indefinitely. Drawing back its lips, it bared its triple rows of teeth.

  “Why are you hiding?” Achilles said. He was coming toward the waist-high grass in which it crouched.

  Saliva dripped from the corners of its mouth as it coiled.

  “You’re that new girl, aren’t you? I caught a glimpse of your hair. No one has hair as blonde as yours.”

  Even if it could fight off the need, which it didn’t particularly want to do, the Warrior had doomed himself. He’d seen her and would tell others. It couldn’t have that.

  “Come on out, girl. I won’t hurt you.”

  The creature sprang, its arms wide, its mouth agape. Disbelief rooted Achilles for the heartbeats it took to reach him, and then it was too late. Its claws sheared into his torso.

  His hand flashed, swinging the sword, and he backpedaled before it could get a solid grip. There was a sharp sting in its shoulder. It raked him but not fatally, and he dropped his hand to the Bersa.

  To end it quickly the creature went for his throat. He got a hand up but it knocked his arm aside and fastened its fangs in his jugular. Blood spurted, the warm sweet essence of life, the true ambrosia. With a powerful wrench it ripped his flesh wide.

  Achilles clutched at his neck, and died.

  Bearing him to earth, the creature greedily sated its hunger. As it fed, it had a new thought. Why not have a little fun before it destroyed the Home? Amuse itself by killing the vaunted Warriors? One by one, it the hunter, they the prey.

  Besides, this was also personal.

  The creature liked the idea so much that before it was done gorging, it had decided which Warrior it would kill next.

  Chapter 7

  For the second night in a row Blade was roused out of sleep. He’d heard a rap on the cabin door. Jenny stirred but didn’t awaken. Quickly, he slid out of bed, pulled on his pants, and hurried from their bedroom. He cracked the door open and saw who it was. “Spartacus?”

  The Gamma Triad leader came right to the point. “Achilles is missing.”

  “Be right there.” Blade pulled on his black leather vest and his boots, strapped his bowies around his waist, and grabbed the Commando. “What’s going on?” Jenny sleepily asked from the bedroom doorway.

  “Don’t know yet,” Blade said. “Keep the door bolted.”

  Here and there a few stars were visible but low clouds covered much of the sky, grotesque lumps of cumulus that interlocked like airborne amoeba
.

  “Report,” Blade said as they made for the drawbridge.

  “We were due to be relieved by Bravo,” Spartacus related. “Achilles was making a last sweep of the walls. He never came back.”

  “You looked for him?”

  “Bertha went along the south wall and I went along the north. We met on the east wall without seeing any sign.”

  “No outcries? No shots?”

  “Nothing.”

  Blade slung the Commando over his shoulder and increased his pace. His first thought was that a mutate or something else had gotten over the wall or maybe a winged predator had swooped down out of the clouds. Then he remembered the time the Trolls invaded the Home, wreaking havoc and abducting some of the women. “Go wake Hickok and Geronimo.”

  Spartacus started to turn aside. “Not all the Warriors?”

  “We won’t sound an alarm until we have more to go on. Make it quick.” Blade broke into a jog.

  Bertha and the hybrids were waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Shane was up on the west rampart, keeping watch.

  “About time , bub,” Lynx said by way of a greeting. Only four feet tall, he was covered in thick fur. His eyes were a vivid green, his ears came to points. His only article of clothing was a loincloth. “We’ve been twiddlin’ our thumbs waitin’ for you to show.”

  “Show respect, yes?” Gremlin said. He had red eyes and small circles of flesh where his ears had been. “Blade is head Warrior.”

  Blade had always secretly felt sorry for Gremlin. The result of genetic tinkering by a deranged scientist, Gremlin had had part of his brain removed, resulting in his peculiar speech.

  “Cut us loose, big man,” Ferret said. Slightly larger than Lynx, his fur was brown. “We’ll sniff out Achilles for you.”

  “If we can’t find him, he ain’t here,” Lynx boasted.

  “Make a sweep of the walls,” Blade said.

  “You got it, big guy.”

  The hybrids and their friend bounded up the stairs. “

  All the years those three have been here,” Bertha quietly remarked, “and they still give me the willies.”