I remembered briefly being a slave of the Dunwych and the indignities I’d been exposed to. Indignities they’d expected me to be honored by. Mine was an empathy born of shared experience combined with the fact I liked killing. The Remnant also kept slaves, though we called them workers, and I had no true moral high ground. Still, it was these lies which kept the human animal from fully comprehending its true darkness. “I’d rather not talk about it.”
Unusual sounds emanated from the surrounding woodland. I’d been in Ghoul Pass on numerous occasions but I’d never entirely trusted the mutated forest. There was an old Wasteland legend the woods had been created through the blessings of Shub-Niggurath, one of their so-called Awakened Gods. Doctor Ward had named her as one of the Great Old Ones. If she had blessed this place, it was touched by forces well above humanity’s comprehension.
“If you don’t want to, that’s your business. Just don’t get me killed in the process.”
I could tell there was real concern in Mercury’s voice. I was a person to her, not a thing which could be casually discarded. It was more empathy than most of my countrymen had been willing to show me. I wondered how she could feel that kind of connection to a person she’d only known a few hours and do the things she’d done as the Remnant’s chief torturer. It was a paradox of humanity I hadn’t solved.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll do my thing and you do yours but I’ll make sure you’re not killed before I bring you to Kingsport.”
“We’re not killed,” she corrected.
“Of course.”
Eventually, the two of us managed to find ourselves on the same path the slavers had been walking. There, I saw the remains of the men I’d slain, mixed in with fresh kills. Scattered across the caravan’s remains were five or six men slain by spear or ax. The children I’d seen imprisoned were no longer held in cages, but were even now being freed by a pair of individuals I recognized.
The first of them was a brawny man who stood even taller than me, quite the accomplishment since I was considered something of a giant amongst the Remnant’s men. Handsome and intelligent-looking, Peter Goodhill had shaved his head since the last time we’d met. His tanned olive skin was also marked with crimson Dunwych tattoos, a Van Dyke mustache adorning his face. It was almost enough to disguise the fact he was a Remnant deserter.
Despite having apparently joined the Dunwych, Peter still looked a great deal like the soldier he’d once been. Wearing camouflage pants but no shirt, a pair of dog tags hanging down from his neck. In his hands was a submachine gun confiscated from one of the dead slavers, making any encounter between us one to handle delicately. In our last meeting, I’d tried to kill him for desertion.
The fact he was still alive was testament to his skills or the fact I hadn’t been willing to die to kill him. I honestly wasn’t sure who was the better between us. Peter was another one of the Remnant’s soldiers who displayed no hesitation in killing or fear of the monsters. Indeed, like me, he was more comfortable with them than with regular humanity. It made his banishment a sick joke as a punishment.
Beside him stood a woman I believed to be one of the most alluring in the world. I was no man attracted to frail weaklings and Katryn’s taut yet distinctly feminine body had entranced me from the first moment I’d laid eyes upon her. A true-born Dunwych woman, her skin was bronzed by the Wasteland sun but otherwise Caucasian, while she wore homemade leathers in place of re-stitched Old Earth clothing.
Like Peter, Katryn bore the tattoos of her tribe, though she sported many more. Each marked a particular deed of valor in their Post-Apocalyptic culture. Yet, despite her exotic attire, she bore a stark reminder of the family I’d left behind. Her silvery white hair was the same color as my wife’s, hanging down freely over her chest past her breasts.
“I hope you know these people,” Mercury said, leaning over.
“That may make things worse,” I whispered. “Hello Peter, Katryn.”
Mercury blinked. “I wasn’t being literal.”
Katryn’s response to my appearance was to draw a knife and throw it at me. I didn’t move or react as it buried itself in the tree behind me. Looking at her, I raised an eyebrow. “I see you’re still upset about my leaving you after the blood rite.”
“If I was still upset, Booth, you would be dead,” Katryn said. “You helped us, though, and I am willing to let the past rest.”
Katryn had been one of those who had misused me while I had been a prisoner of the Dunwych. She had thought herself honoring me with her presence. There had been times I had wanted to kill her and would have if not for the fact I had been fascinated by the Wasteland lore she’d taught me. The Dunwych were a subset of humanity far better adapted to this world than the Remnant and I’d used what I’d learned upon my return.
From her tense stance, I imagined it pricked her pride to realize I cared only about her as a resource and no longer could muster the emotion to even hate her. Both hers and Peter’s presence here smacked of conspiracy, but for me or something else? Were they plotting some mischief against the Remnant? It was no longer my concern. Only my squadron and revenge mattered now.
I would die to kill Ward, not these two.
“John Henry Booth.” Peter lifted up his submachine gun, an Uzi variant that had clearly been custom built from a half-dozen other guns. “I should kill you where you stand.”
“You can try,” I said, nonplussed. If he’d joined the Dunwych then he was subordinate to Katryn now. Their priests held power even greater than their warlords.
“Well, this is a friendly meeting. Are you this popular everywhere?” Mercury asked.
Peter looked at her funny. “Is that who I think it is?”
“Doctor Takahashi.” I nodded. “Yes.”
Peter smiled in admiration. “A pleasure to meet you, I’m a big fan of your work.”
Mercury’s expression was even. “That makes one of us.”
Peter frowned. “I see.”
“Are you going to try to kill us, Peter?” I asked.
“Are you the guy who killed the Earthmover?” Peter looked between us.
“Yes,” I said.
“Then no,” Peter replied. “Unless Katryn wills it.”
Katryn looked at the worms on the ground and stomped on one with her wrapped foot. “Not right now.”
“I’m glad that’s resolved.” I nodded to Katryn before turning to Peter. “What are you doing here?”
“Hunting,” Katryn said, staring at me. Her unnatural blue eyes, completely lacking in whites, seemed to look directly into my soul. “The servants of Dread Kaithooloo came to Scrapyard and killed the Sheriff. They then began burning houses, demanding a dozen children as a tithe. We agreed to go with them as slaves, intending to free them at a later date.”
Cthulhu worshipers taking children all but confirmed this was part of the same group we’d tracked to the Black Cathedral. I would have loved to interrogate the surviving slavers, but Katryn had made sure that was impossible. I wasn’t entirely displeased with that as I didn’t just want Ward dead, I wanted all of his associates killed as well.
Peter kept his machine gun ready. “We broke out of our cage when someone started shooting our captors, including the High Priest. What are you doing here?”
“Passing through.” I wrinkled my brow. “I think I may have been tracking these slavers beforehand. I seek the Black Cathedral.”
“Why?” Katryn said, her expression revealing nothing.
“To kill everyone inside.”
Katryn nodded. “Then our purposes are aligned. I will spare your life until the time we have revenged ourselves on the Necromancer who leads them.”
“Good,” I said, not trusting her in the slightest. “We have an accord then.”
For now.
Chapter Nine
Checking the children’s health was our first priority. The lives of the next generation being paramount were one of the few areas on which New Arkhamites and Dunwych agreed. A qu
ick examination followed by a short series of questions told me much. They were a mixture of boys and girls of primarily Hispanic descent between the ages of eight and fourteen.
They were all in reasonably good condition, if traumatized. The children had been forcibly separated from their parents at gunpoint and forced to watch a battle. That would leave scars on any psyche. With time and love, however, they would survive. Children were more durable than most people gave them credit for.
Afterward, our group proceeded on foot toward Scrapyard. Katryn and Peter took point while we covered the rear. The children walked in-between us, as safe as they could be given the circumstances. Scrapyard wasn’t far but it was a potentially hazardous journey to the unwary. Even in relatively settled woods of Ghoul Pass, there were many dangerous predators and toxic plants.
Mercury was a loud traveler, her feet crunching against the leaves on the ground. The children also moved loudly, signaling our presence to all the individuals around us. Despite that, Katryn was almost completely silent moving through the foliage. Peter and I split the difference, moving as R&E Rangers were trained to do.
Softly.
As we walked, I thought about the slavers’ curious choice of prey. For obvious reasons, slavers preferred attractive adults or ones capable of skilled labor. Children were usually taken with their families and sold at a discount, if at all. There were a few groups which bought children, to be raised by communities or sacrificed to the Great Old Ones, but their involvement only raised more questions.
The second issue I had with the situation was Katryn’s and Peter’s presence. Ghoul Pass was technically under the control of the Dunwych, but their territory was vast—consisting of nearly the entirety of the Eastern Grasslands. The odds of encountering two people I knew well were low. The odds of them being on a quest similar to mine were almost nonexistent. Katryn would call it destiny; I called it suspicious.
“John, can I ask you a question?” Mercury asked.
“Yes?” I sighed, getting used to her inappropriately timed questions.
Mercury leaned up to my ear. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” I really didn’t. I’d made a lot of recent questionable decisions.
“Taking us into their group.” Mercury gestured to Katryn and Peter. “I won’t be a Dunwych slave.”
“I won’t let that happen to you, I promise.” I let her fill in the blanks. I would slit her throat before she was taken and go down fighting first before I returned to the life I’d escaped. The Dunwych had not been worse than death, few things were, but I wouldn’t let myself be distracted from my quest.
Mercury looked at me like I’d just asked her to leap into a pit of rabid wolves. I was about to say more when my eyes caught glimpse of a colorful feathered serpent, a Coatl, one of the deadliest killers in the Wasteland. Its venom would kill a man instantly, melting him from the inside out.
The creature lowered itself from the top of a branch, ready to pounce on one of the girls in an unnatural display of aggressiveness. Grabbing it by the base of its jaws, I squeezed the animal so tight with my bare hands it couldn’t squirm free, then watched it die, before tossing it away.
“Beautiful!” An eleven-year-old, red-haired girl with pale skin stared up at me. I hadn’t meant for any of the children to see me handle the danger to them. I feared it would cause a panic. “Where did you learn to do that?”
“Advanced training,” I said, seeing the Coatl come back to life then slither away. “What’s your name, girl?”
“Jackie. Jackie Howard.” The girl smiled, showing her surprisingly prominent teeth. “Are you an R&E Ranger? My Dad told me they were the greatest warriors in the world.”
“Something like that,” I said, smiling. Miss Howard reminded me of my daughter, Anita. Anita was nearly a woman now, sixteen in January, but she’d always be a little girl in my eyes. I’d missed her last two birthdays. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you back to your parents.”
“My parents are dead.” Jackie stared at the ground, her voice strained. “I have no one in Scrapyard.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, seeing Katryn take us off the path into a denser part of the surrounding woodland. From what I gathered of her position, it would shave considerable time off our journey.
I agreed with her decision. Speed was more important now than comfort, especially with children in our ranks. “Mercury, you have good reason to trust Katryn and Peter as long as we’re with them.”
It was a lie but I didn’t want to offend our temporary allies. The Dunwych were too dangerous an enemy to irritate and I couldn’t do harm to Peter as long as he was one of them.
“Why’s that?” Mercury huffed, clearly not liking how the power dynamics had shifted in our relationship.
“Because you need me and I can’t beat them,” I responded. “Weirdness going on with my body aside.”
If you could call coming back from the dead weirdness. Perhaps I now had more in common with the Coatl I’d just killed than humanity.
Disturbing thought.
Mercury stared. “I see.”
I didn’t want to deal with allaying her fears but there was no point in putting it off. “If it makes you feel any better, I can tell you where I met them.”
“Will I trust them more?” I could hear the uncertainty in her voice. The encounter with the Earthmover had shaken her, appropriately so. Right now she needed the comfort of a friend. Unfortunately, all she had was me.
“Maybe,” I said. “They rescued me from the Color. For some definition of the word rescue.”
“The Color?” It was clear she had difficulty processing the concept.
“Yes, the Color, a terrible, indescribable thing from another world. You would think I’d be used to such things but something about it frightened even me.” I could still remember the mission in my darkest imaginations. So much horror and death, it was a wonder I was still sane—if I ever was. “It all began about a year ago when a meteor shower struck the city of New Ipswich. Do you remember?”
“Sort of hard to forget, Booth. Every man, woman, child, and dog was killed. Even the plant life was reduced to ash. A whole city gone within hours of the first distress calls,” Mercury said, before shaking her head. “That relates to your story?”
“Yes,” I said, coldly. “I was there, so was Peter. We were both assigned to the R&E squadrons sent to investigate.” Compared now to what had happened in the Black Cathedral, it was not the worst mission I’d ever been on. Yet, before, I would have called it the most terrible struggle of my life. “You can’t describe it as something physical, Mercury. It wasn’t flesh, metal, plant, or animal. It was just a color: a color that human eyes cannot view on the spectrum of light. Something not from this world or any world that humans could possibly imagine.”
“I believe you,” Mercury said.
She didn’t understand, couldn’t really, even after her encounter with the Earthmover. Some things had to be experienced firsthand.
“When we arrived in New Ipswich we saw it had been destroyed … wiped completely off the map. Everyone reduced to powder, as if the life had been sucked from their bodies. In the center of the town there were … meteorites,” I continued, remembering the devastated remains of the city and its vampirized populace. “From those fallen stars raised a collection of tiny lights which twinkled in a beautiful but sickening way. Maybe they were drawn by the Rising, maybe they just arrived here by accident. I don’t know, but they formed a swarm which drained the life of anything it touched.”
“What happened?” Mercury asked, her voice finally becoming understanding.
“We fought, or tried to. Our weapons couldn’t harm it; it was on a world with conditions totally unlike our own.” I lowered my head. “Our entire backup perished, and then we started to die one by one. All except those who chose to run—just run.”
Like Peter. I left his name unspoken. I’d never forgiven him for that act of deserti
on. Still, he’d stayed long enough to show he was a capable soldier. Only Gamma Squadron had emerged from the battle unharmed but those who’d fought beside us that day were the best of the best. Anyone who survived even a short time proved his mettle.
I still had nightmares about that day. You’d have thought the other missions would have drowned out the horrors of it through sheer numbers by now. “Those that stayed continued to fight. Beta and Gamma teams were devastated, their courage and skill meaning nothing against it. I would have died too if not for Gamma Squadron’s leader. General Ashton-Smith managed to temporarily scatter the Color with a set of radiation grenades.”
Temporarily.
“Wow, that’s horrible,” Jackie said, surprising me. I realized, to my horror, she and every other child was listening to my story with rapt attention.
I blinked, taking a deep breath as I flushed with embarrassment. “This is not the sort of story for young ears.”
Peter shouted from the front of the line. “Oh come on, John, keep telling us your story. You’re doing a wonderful rendition of a half-mad soldier.”
This entire situation felt off. Peter had forgiven me far too quickly. He was plotting something, I was sure of it. “In any case, I don’t see why you can’t finish the story. You were there as well.”
“I left that part of my past behind,” Peter said. “You seem to have, but I can tell you’re still carrying it on your back.” There was something hesitant in his voice, as if he was trying to hide his emotions under a false façade of cheerfulness. I knew the feeling. There was also a glimmer of hate in his voice. I knew that feeling, too. Due to my report, Peter was exiled from the Remnant. I’d almost killed him and he’d nearly done the same, the two of us shooting up a section of these very woods, but a group of feral ghouls had been attracted by the noise and forced us to part ways. I’d hoped they’d finished him off, but they’d obviously done no more to him than me.
“What a bastard,” Mercury muttered under her breath. “Why don’t you go on with your story?”
“There’s not much left to tell. With the Color temporarily scattered, we found ourselves wandering across the desert supply-less and alone. A Dunwych war party found us, Katryn was its leader. We were defeated and taken captive.”
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