Before he could recover, the fire was upon him –burning him. He could feel his face burn. His skin peeled away, the flames started eating away at his raw flesh and the heat crept deep into his skull.
All he could do was scream.
Pradeep woke up sweating profusely in a cave.
It was the same nightmare once again. The wide sands and the fiery white horse.
The nightmare that never stopped.
He tried to calm down and slow down his breath. He had always had this nightmare as long as he could remember. Even in the old world. When the radios first mentioned others having dreams of a white horse, he was curious at first but then chose to remain silent. He didn’t want to be seen as a freak. The nightmare had become more frequent since the End Age but it was something he had always seen and had always woken up with. But it was definitely different this time. He distinctly remembered the horse not speaking before.
The End Game approaches.
What did it mean? Pradeep pondered. He thought the game had ended a long time ago when everyone died.
He soon realized that he had got up just in time. He could hear someone sobbing in the central chamber. Belum caves boasted of several chambers but the central chamber was as spacious as it can get and was well connected to the rest of the passageways. And its acoustic properties were not bad either. He could hear lot of commotion along with the crying.
That could mean only one thing.
Missing hunters.
Missing hunters and their grieving friends and family if any did survive. He quickly crawled out of his sleeping bag and got up from the hard cave floor. He dressed up in his old rags, a dirt–brown shirt and denim trousers, wore his red scarf around his neck and ran into the central chamber. The General and Suresh met him on the way, running in from the opposite direction.
The General’s huge frame looked like an advancing rhino as he ran.
“Saahil!” the General said as he came near, declaring the problem.
“Saahil has not returned!” The General said, as they all met in the middle of the passageway.
Pradeep remembered Saahil. He was almost the youngest of them all. A round faced kid with a toothy grin.
“How far did he go?” Pradeep asked.
“No idea!” Suresh shook his head. “But far enough. There was no activity in the near vicinity last night. Nothing which might have caused him some trouble.”
Please let him be alive, Pradeep thought.
Saahil had volunteered as a hunter to look for supplies. Pradeep remembered the look on the kid's face that day. It was the look of a guy who wanted to make a difference.
Soon, the General and Pradeep were on their way to find Saahil.
They had to set out on foot. The Forgiven were running out of oil and fuel pretty quick. They can no longer afford frequent trips outside on motorcycles. They spend enough oil and fuel for the hunters already.
Pradeep wanted to call Roy along for the trip. Roy was one of the few fellow hunters whom Pradeep trusted immensely and considered a brother. The General informed him that Roy was on a hunting trip though, and hence only the both of them had to venture out by themselves.
They both carried their backpacks and their gas masks. There shouldn't be any radiation this south, but just to be sure. They stepped out of the caves and reached the gates.
A huge wooden door – twenty feet high and fifteen feet wide guarded the entrance.
The gatekeepers opened the doors on seeing the General. Pradeep waved to them, and they waved back. Both of them were cheerful young lads who were deeply loyal to the General. Pradeep worked along with them for two months, helping them build the massive door.
The General himself rarely embarked on these rescue missions. But this was one of their young ones, so he couldn't sit back and wait for someone else to take care of this.
And he took his most capable commander. Pradeep had become sort of his right hand in the caves. He thought of Pradeep as his own son.
The General's rifle hung across his back, and his dagger carefully rested at his hip. Pradeep carried a revolver and an old combat knife. His backpack had food enough to last for a day, and some water.
They ventured out into the ruins, walking slowly.
The first kilometre or so from the entrance was a relatively clear path, marked by the wear and tear of the roamers and gatherers. But then, slowly, the route merged into the ruins.
The terrain was marked with fallen trees and collapsed buildings. The broken glasses of the houses and collapsed roofs painted a grim, dark picture on the horizon. The vegetation had claimed the city. Creepers and strong branches wrapped most of the ruins. The dark insides of the buildings offered plenty of hiding spots for anyone who might survive in the concrete wilderness.
Good thing, there are no Crawlers here, Pradeep thought.
He looked at the General and asked, “What do you think happened to the kid? Caught in a purge?”
The General grunted and nodded. “Most likely! Couldn't be the Crawlers, as the roamers say they haven’t seen any Crawlers this side of the ruins. Could be wild animals, but not likely.”
Pradeep nodded.
“If the Sinless ever attacked us, Saahil was the kind of kid who would be found on the frontlines, eager to shoot down enemies,” he said.
The threat of the Sinless attacking them was imminent. They were a powerful faction now and their mission to judge everyone alive would soon bring their blue–bodied soldiers –the Horsemen to their doorsteps.
The General slowed down and said, “I am afraid we don’t have to wait much longer for that. The Roamers brought news recently that the Sinless are readying their armies, and no matter how prepared we might be, we don’t stand a goddamn chance if those crazies decide to attack us.”
Before Pradeep could reply, he heard a distant growl in the winds. He looked at the General. The General had heard it too and had his dagger drawn and ready in his right hand.
It was a dull growl – slow and deliberate.
“Crawlers?” Pradeep whispered.
The General shook his head. He knew the Crawlers were extremely quiet before an attack.
“Something else,” he replied.
They both stood there with their weapons drawn, back to back, waiting for the threat to show up.
The growl grew louder.
Pradeep was the first one to see it. A massive wild boar.
It stood in the dark shadows of a ruined building ahead of them, its eyes shining in the dark like gemstones. It was bigger than any boar Pradeep had ever seen. Its pale tusks were huge and curved up like deadly daggers.
It growled louder, looking at him – slowly advancing, emerging out of the shadows into the light; its brown mane and dark fur dancing in the cold wind.
Pradeep could almost sense it looking into his eyes. It was eerie, as if it was a being of higher intelligence, slowly studying him. It’s tough, black hooves paced slowly on the brown dust.
“General?” Pradeep slowly whispered to the General who was facing the opposite direction, oblivious to the boar.
And before the General could turn around, the boar emitted a high–pitched shrill battle cry and charged with unprecedented speed at Pradeep. He could see its massive form – dark and hairy – jump at him, as its humongous tusks gleamed like the scythe of the grim reaper.
BOOKS AND BLOOD
Roy stood tall on the high plains, looking through the binoculars when Girish screamed at him.
“ROY!! COME OVER HERE AND HELP US,” Girish shouted as he tried loading up the supplies onto the truck.
Girish was young in age and stout in frame, with parted hair that fell over his short forehead. He, Roy and a band of hunters were out on a hunting trip.
The supplies were harder to come by with each passing day. They had to venture out farther and farther away from the caves with each fortnight.
Most of the supermarkets and departmental stores were either already robbed by ravagin
g Thuggees, or ruined beyond salvation. They had to settle with the rare ones that were still accessible and had some decent supplies to scavenge. This had been a lucky trip. They had to venture out much farther into the western ruins, but it had been without much incident and they had found a small supermarket to scavenge.
Roy scratched his goatee and looked back at Girish and the others. He pushed the dusty binoculars up his head, away from his light brown eyes. His hair was short and thick, complementing his youthful handsome face. The Forgiven often joked that Roy was the only guy who could look more handsome in an apocalyptic world than in a normal one.
He wore a leather jacket with the collar turned up and his blue jeans were old, weathered and torn at his right knee. He strangely looked like a model who was just posing for a post–apocalyptic television show. And hung on his back, with the help of a strap across his chest, was his favourite weapon. His sharp katana–a long Samurai sword, he once stole from a museum when he was a member of the early Thuggees.
“Looks like we are getting luckier with each passing moment,” Roy said with his trademark mischievous grin.
“Come, have a look!” he said offering the binoculars to Girish.
Girish walked up to him and looked through the binoculars.
He couldn't believe his eyes.
Out there on the low plains in the far distance, he could see a row of abandoned houses. But one of the houses was not abandoned. Girish could see the warm, orange glow of lights inside through the unclean windows. Should be lamps or fire since there is no electricity anymore. Someone was living in one of those houses.
Girish looked at Roy, surprised.
Roy was looking at him with a childlike excitement, with his eyebrows raised.
“What do you think...Huh? Let's check it out.” he said. “You and me. While the rest of these bozos load up the supplies, we can get a quick look into what ghosts live down there. What do you say?”
“I don't know, man. Maybe we should inform someone...like the General. Come back with a little more backup to check. We don't know what we are up against. What if it's Crawlers?”
“Come on!!” Roy said placing a hand on Girish's shoulder. “Crawlers don’t live in houses!!” he exclaimed. “Quit being such a wuss. Screw the old man. You want to go back all the way for his permission? Let’s do this buddy. Two hunters on an adventure. Who knows what loot we might find there?”
Girish knew how persuasive Roy could be when he wanted to and Girish always had his guard up around him but this time even he felt Roy was right. It was just a single house. It was not very likely that they both would run into some serious danger down there.
Soon both of them were speeding on a motorcycle across the plains as the night dust blew into their faces. Roy drove with reckless abandon as always. They instructed the rest of the hunters to wait for them for two hours and if they didn’t return, they were to go back to the caves and tell the General about it.
Roy shut the engine of the motorcycle down as the haunting row of houses came into view. They didn’t want to alert whoever was in there by the sound of the rumbling engine. They parked the motorcycle at the front porch just below the steps, so that they could quickly escape if they needed to. Roy signalled for silence to Girish as they both slowly approached the porch. They tried looking through the window, but couldn’t see anyone or sense any movement.
Roy began climbing the steps to the porch. The moment he laid his foot on the first step, in a single instant, all the lights in the house went out suddenly without a warning. All that was left was the pitch darkness of the night and the chirping of crickets.
Both Roy and Girish could hear only their panicked breaths until out of nowhere a voice boomed as if through a megaphone.
“WHO IS THERE?”
And then the main door opened with a bang.
Pradeep's face was painted in dark crimson by his own blood. The pain had not yet set in, thankfully, because of the adrenaline that raced in his veins as he battled the great boar.
He held its white tusk with his left hand and with his right hand he pulled out his combat knife and drove it deep into the beast's chest. The boar's scream was a chilling screech of wild suffering and it fell along with its attacker to the dusty ground. Pradeep twisted the knife, cutting the flesh inside and kicked the animal in its wide abdomen as he pulled the knife out of it, drawing a thin trail of blood and sending the boar rolling away from him in a haze of dust and pain.
Pradeep quickly got up and braced for the next assault. The boar might not have the Crawler's sharp claws or the long blades of the Sinless, but its tusks were its weapons. Blunt, but huge and deadly.
And then he saw them. There were two more of them. Grunting feral monsters. They ran out of the ruins with a wild fury. The injured boar got up and looked ready to charge again.
Pradeep turned the blood–soaked knife in his hand, holding it tighter; ready again but then he heard the sound of a gunshot. The injured boar gave out a shrill cry and fell to the ground. The General stood behind him with his smoking rifle. They still had two more of these things to take care of. Pradeep snatched his revolver from his hip and aimed at the boars.
The pain had begun in his face and was fast rising. He tried to focus but the pain was simply disorienting. He fired twice and hit one of them. The beast staggered for a moment before continuing its run towards them, but collapsed halfway.
The General was trying his best to bring down the last one but the boar was quicker than the wings of death. Pradeep fired once more and the bullet grazed the charging boar on its side. It staggered and fell, but got up again and ran towards them.
Pradeep knew his end was now near as he saw the mighty beast running straight towards him. The General's rifle rang again and this time he got the prey right between its eyes. Its massive frame stumbled and fell onto the ground, grinding to a halt at Pradeep's feet in a cloud of dust.
Both Pradeep and General stood there for a moment, dazed and catching their panicked breaths. The General then noticed Pradeep's face and in and instant he knew that they needed to go back. A wide red gash ran through the middle of Pradeep's face, travelling from his right eyebrow, over his nose and onto his left cheek. The tusk had indeed cut deep. He bled profusely.
“Oh God, let's go back to the caves,” the General said. “You should let Mishra fix that as soon as possible.” Mishra was the only survivor among the Forgiven who knew the art of medicine. He was training a few others, but a cut this deep could prove to be fatal if attended to by anyone else.
Pradeep shook his head.
“We need to find Saahil. Hand me the painkillers,” he said.
“Don't be a fool!” The General said, but Pradeep was already busy opening his backpack.
He took out a piece of cotton from the first aid kit and opened his scarf. He winced hard as he put the cotton to his wound and bound the scarf over it, across his face, below his left ear and above his right, around his head.
The General knew it was hard to sway Pradeep. He gave him the painkillers he needed. Pradeep swallowed a bunch of them and took a quick gulp from the water bottle. They both sat down on a rock for five minutes to clear their heads and then set out again. This time their guns drawn and ready.
They walked for another hour into the ruins only interspersed by little breaks; during which Pradeep had to stop and sit down, because the pain was too much to go on.
They eventually reached a part of the city that looked like it had been burnt to ground overnight. No vegetation survived. Everything was dust and coal. The purge had claimed everything to its flaming hunger. They looked at each other and prayed to themselves that they should not find Saahil here.
A few meters into the purge radius, they came upon a burnt motorcycle, charred to its core. Only hunters use bikes anymore. And it was a model that clearly looked like the ones that the Forgiven often used –a modified Bullet. And beside the motorcycle, on the ground, was lying a charred skeleton – brown
and black patches entwined with the ivory white of the bone.
Its frame was little, like that of a young boy and its hand was outstretched towards the motorcycle in eternal desperation.
With tears in their eyes and blood on their weapons, Pradeep and the General knew that their quest had ended and they had found their young hunter.
Roy and Girish knew they had nowhere to escape.
Up on the porch of the dark house, the door was ajar. In front of them, wielding a shotgun in his right hand and a megaphone in his left, stood a tall, thin man in his thirties. Beneath a set of dirty round–rimmed spectacles, shone his dark black eyes that matched his dark curly hair.
Apart from the shotgun and the megaphone, the rest of his appearance was highly sober and academic. He wore a dark green sweater on top of a white shirt, folded at his elbows, combined with black formal trousers and unpolished black shoes. His left shoe had a hole through which a toe stuck out.
“Do not move!” the bespectacled stranger ordered.
Roy and Girish complied.
“Lay down your sword!” the man said to Roy. “And any other weapons you both might be carrying.”
“It's a katana!” Roy said.
It was one of his pet peeves. He hated it when someone called his katana a sword. The sharp blade clung loudly as he lay it down on the porch.
The man then pointed his shotgun at Girish. “You too! Lay down all your weapons.”
Girsih put his hands in the air. “We are scavengers. We do not carry weapons.” he said.
The stranger looked at him, and then at the katana on the ground and then back at him.
“Except Roy, of course!” Girish had to add.
The stranger looked at him for a moment as if judging him before turning his gaze back to Roy. He kicked the katana out of the way and it slid away, falling off the porch. He then slowly lowered his shotgun and stared at them intensely for what seemed like an eternity.
Sinners- The Dawn Of Kalki Page 5
