Monsters and Death

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Monsters and Death

Cleo surveyed the slaged traffic the filled the roadway. Stretching for miles in every directing, a road of dead metal that would last for a centuries. Rusting in the wind and rain long after there occupants had been weathered down to clean white bones.

The whole thing was silly to her, thousands of people, running to some other city in hopes to escape the plague, only to die from it on there way. If they had even stopped to think they would have know that going to some other city was hopeless when everyone in it was trying to get to where the other people had originality started.

Frankly, it depressed her, but she supposed that it could have been worse, at least humanity had survived. Even if some of it was changed as she had been, the species still lived.

That was really man's main reason for being so high up on the food chain, it always survived.

She shook her head as she turned back to the camp fire, wondering when she had become so good at pontificating. Mark was already starting to cook some hot-dogs they had salvaged a few cites back. About the only thing they both knew how to cook over an open flame.

Plopping down accost the fire from him, she impaled her own hot-dog on a scorched stick and held it into the flames.

It had been a week sense they had left together for Wagon's Mount, and where about half way there. Somewhere in east Arizona, having spent the day before going around Flagstaff. Neither she or Mark had decided that they should avoid the larger cites, they had both simply just done it.

It made sense to her, even with all the bodies on the roads, most of the people had died in there homes and hospitals. As well as churches, as she so learned the first night she tried to sleep in one.

Currently they where outside a smaller side town, the sign had said the population was fifty-thousand. She guessed that counting the pair of them, it was now two.

Pulling her food from the fire, she bit of the end of it, twitching her nose as she brushed the end of the hot-dog against her whiskers.

They had only run into one other person on there trek, and he had run screaming away from her. Mark had followed, but with no luck.

Cleo knew there was at least one other who had been changed by the light, and that was Mark's companion who had run away after the change. She hoped she and he where not the only ones changed.

Mark coughed, stretching a bit as he stood up. "I'll be back in a minute, nature calls."

She nodded, putting a second hot-dog into the fire. As he vanished into the tree she let out a sigh. Mark was a nice guy and all, but she just didn't feel right around him. There was something, some small little thing, that was wrong about him, but she couldn't place it. It was as if he knew more then he was saying, about the light, and the second moon (which had been dubbed Grendal some time during the second day of there trip).

She didn't like it, but she found that she no longer trusted all that he said. She just wished she knew why.

Starting on the second hot-dog she thought she noticed a body in the fire light, standing just inside the tree line. The person was just watching her eat.

"Mark?" She asked, setting her food down.

That's when she saw the gun.

* * *

The sound of the gun shot was deafening in the new quite of the world. Mark was jolted out of his meditation, and was on his feet before he even registered what had happened.

As the fact that he was running to Cleo, and in the direction of the gun shot worked his way into his mind he started to panic. As far as he understood, he needed her. If she was killed it would shift the course of events in directions he couldn't even begin to image. Not that he knew where they were going already.

Shaking his head, he came upon the fire. It had been partly covered with dirt, of Cleo there was no sign. There was no blood either, so the gun shot had not connected with anybody.

There was signs of a struggle, the ground hand been kick and pushed around in one area. From there three sets of footprints lead out of the clearing and towards the highway.

Following them at a run, he made it to the highway just as a trio of motorcycles took of down to road. Swearing to himself I climbed on top of a car, and from there onto the roof of an RV. He watched the lights from the 'cycles receded into the town and pull into a large parking lot a few miles away.

Sliding down the front window he landed on the road with a huff. He really didn't know what to do, he had to save her, if she actually needed saving, that much was clear. The how was the stumper.

Walking back to the fire, he put it the rest of the way out. The going back to 'cycle he tried to start it up, an action that failed.

Giving the bike once over, he found the problem. The water-cell had been removed. He swore again, looking over the dead freeway. It was a case of water water everywhere and not a drop to drink. The bike needed a different sized cell then car's normally used. To add to that, most of the cars had stayed running after there owners had died, eventually draining the cells.

Salvaging what supplied from the bike that he could, he started to walk towards the city.

Just after dawn Mark finally reached his goal. The land was flat enough to make twenty miles look at lot closer then they actually were.

He was there though, at an 'S-Mart' one of the 'everything you want' try of shopping center. The front windows had been broken out and a car was half way inside the building. It was still in good shape though, and there was a light burning in the very back.

Hefting his backpack with the supplies, he walked towards the entrance. It only was able to go a few steps before someone stood up in the store, holding a rifle. "I would stop moving right there." He said, the laser sight on his gun bobbing over Mark's eyes.

He raised his hands. "I come in peace."

There was a pause. "You human?"

"Yes!"

The rifle lowered and the owner started walking to him. The man was old, about forty, his hair was a badly died blond and he was dressed in some over sized leather that squeaked when he walked. He looked like a reject from the last century.

The man looked him over. "Good, you're the first one we've seen in a week."

Mark nodded as the man stopped about three feet in front of him. "You have seen the demons?"

Shifting into 'Oh Shit' mode, Mark was suddenly very concerned about Cleo. "Yes, I've even seen them change as well."

The man nodded. "A mark, to separate the unclean from the pure, to show them as the evil they are so that we may wipe them from the face of the Earth."

He nodded. "Are there others?"

"Yes, they are inside. You can stay if you want, but not for long."

"Why?"

The man smiled, "We have an execution later." The man said as he turned and walked towards the store.

Mark followed, "Who are you?"

The man didn't break step. "My past has been destroyed by the Lord. I am his messenger, his follower into the glory of heaven. Chosen to lead the pure into his holly light and destroy the blight that are the demons of this world. This is my destiny, what I was born to do. Save the future of humanity!"

As the preacher's final proclamation rolled over the dead asphalt, Mark repressed a shudder. He had been unfortunate to have been vacationing in Brazilia when a Jahaid erupted out of the back rooms and dark allies and into the eyes of the world.

The Holly War lasted only two months, and at times blood literally ran in the streets. The curators of this gallery of death was a little group called 'The Might Of God'. There soul goal was the total, utter and compete destruction of the United States of America and the United Communist Front that had once been China.

It was really considered little more then a terrorist take over until the last days of the Holly War. Until five nuclear missiles where launched. Three aimed at the US and two at China. Some how, one got through all the defense, all the fighters, everything that could be thrown at it.

Central China is now a very quite place.

The retaliation was swift and brutal, five thousand U.N. troops descended into the ruins of Brazil's capital, Brazilia. The War ended in a single day.

The death toll was high, ten thousand civilians dead in Brazil, a thousand solders, and of the over four hundred american tourists who had been there when it started, five lived.

Mark was one of them.

And even though it was five years back, it still made him scream at night.

He gave the Preacher a sharp look. "I see." was all he managed as a response.

The man never noticed, he just walked into the store.

Following, Mark carefully stepped over the body of someone long dead that the Preacher just walked over, not caring. Looking up again, he scanned the store proper.

His eyes never pasted the pelts.

Three of them, hanging from the ceiling, two the size of an adult human, one was of a child. A bear, a fox and some kind of cat.

Barely able to hold down his bile, he looked away, and found himself looking deep into the Preacher's eyes.

"The first we have destroyed," He announced proudly, "A family of demons!" He boasted, "soon we will add more them, as a sight to all of the purity of man."

Mark slowly nodded his head.

Wrapping his arm around Mark's shoulders, the Preacher walked him pasted the death. "You shall be my first allocate, chose to spread the word of our Lord to the others who have survived the Great Death."

He nodded again, still far to shocked to react.

They keep walking, farther back into the store, towards the single light used in the back of the hardware department. Two others fell behind them as they went, a lanky man with half a pair of glasses, and a bull of a man who was about fifty inches accost at the neck. Both of them looked at the Preacher in awe.

In the far back of the store, under the glare of a pair of halogen lights Cleo was, caged like an animal, and barely conscious.

Gulping, Mark turned to the Preacher. "You plan to kill her?"

He nodded with a smile, as third person, a dark haired women with two black eyes, join them. "Of course. Today at noon, that is when the demon is the weakest."

"Of course," Mark gasped out.

The Preacher patted his back. "I shall let you cut her throat, to end her life so you may grow stronger."

Composing himself, Mark stood, straightened himself to his full high. "Yes, of course. Though if you don't mind, I've been walking all night and do need to head the call of nature."

Laughing the Preacher slapped his back. "Of course, the bathrooms still work here, that way." He pointed towards the back of the store.

Mike smiled, said his thanks, and started in the directing he had been pointed. When he was out of the light, he ducked behind a shelf. He could not allow theses people to continue on this path, he could not let them live past this day.

He needed a plan though, he couldn't let them hurt Cleo, she was to important. His first task was to get they away from her, that might be simple, he had to shut down there lights, but in such a way they though it was just a failure in what ever was powering it.

Following the cords with his eyes, he traced them back to a generator in the back of the store. Summing his strength, he hunkered down and bolted, running though the four's line of sight and back behind some shelves.

Reaching the generator, he gave it a quick once over. It was some kind of battery type, running on water-cells. He had not seen the design before and didn't trust it to work.

From the scorch marks and duct tape, he gathered that the Preacher and his friends didn't trust it much either.

Gathering his baring as to where he was, he picked up the cord leading from the generator. After closing his eyes for a few seconds he gave it a hard yank.

There came a electrical pop, and the light static hum that the generator was putting out faded into nothing. Mike didn't wait for it to fade though, he was already on his feet and running though the store. After only a few seconds he skidded behind a counter, at least he did if he had his directions down right.

Felling around, he felt a glass case in front of him. He smiled, having landed where he was suppose to. Felling over the top, he found that the glass had been shattered already.

Moving quickly, he felt around in the case. He had no light to guide his actions by, he was in the far back of the store, and it had no windows, or anything else. The darkness was all encompassing, the daylight faded away in the far distance.

With a grin, he found what he had been looking for, or at least hoping for. Sliding them over his eyes, he hunched down and turned the systems power on. There was a flash and he saw the world in a phosphorescent green.

Adjusting the night view goggles, he let out a chuckle. He had been hoping this store hunting department had this peculator advantage in stock. It would give him a much greater advantage.

Rising slightly he glanced around the store. The Preacher and his followers where trying to find the generator in the dark and not having much luck. They where in fact spreading out.

Giving the case a once over, he pulled out a shot gun. It was pump action, and he really did prefer a double barrel, but it would have to do for now.

Quickly he loaded the gun with four rounds of buck shot, then forcing one into the chamber, starting hunting.

* * *

Cleo took a bit out of an apple, watching as the sun rose over the horizon. She was perched on the roof of a car in the 'S-Mart' parking lot. Her arm still hurt from her short capture the day before, but it was going away.

Mike was inside the store to see if he could find any more people that the Preacher had killed. Mike had already take then other three pelts and burned them the night before at a near by park.

Taking another bite she looked away from the sun. Mike now felt more off to her then ever before. His rescue the day before had just helped to convince her more.

She didn't see what had happened, the light that had filled the cage she had been enough was enough to block out the rest of the world. She had heard the conversations about how they planed to kill her, the popular vote was for skinning her alive.

Then Mike's voice had joined the mix, seeming to agree with the others that she should be killed. After that the lights went out and the gun fire began.

It had felt like forever, every time she though it was over another gun blast would ring in her ears. It had lasted for hours that had only be minutes. It finally ended when Mike had come to her with a flashlight and opened the door. Three bodies left behind him, the one he call the Preacher had run away at the first sign of trouble, taking a bike and damaged the others so they could not follow.

Mike was sure he was gone, and Cleo agree with him, for at least for the time being. A person like always runs away from the trouble they've caused, but they always seems to come back. No matter what happens, they run away and come back just as strong as before, if not stronger.

She would warn any others she could find, before the Preacher found them.

"Hey Cleo!" Mark called from one of the shattered windows. "I want you to come take a look at something."

She shrugged, taking another bite of the apple as she slid of the car. Walking carefully to him she smiled. "Find something?"

"I think so," He said, helping her over the frame and into the building, then pointing his flashlight into the darkness he smiled at her. "Come and see."

Working through her apple she followed him into the bowels of the store. Walking lightly over piles of boxes, cans and other junk that littered the isle. Finally the stopped next to a something large that had been covered in with a tarp.

Mike smiled in the spill over from the flash light. "Tell me this is what I think it is?" He asked, then with heave, he grabbed the edge of the tarp and pulled it clear of what was under it.

Cleo nearly choked on her apple as what she was looking at finally registered. Coughing a bit she was able to gasp out. "That's a KayZee one thirty eight.

After she got her breath back she took the flashlight and started to look over her find.

"So I was right." Mike asked.

She nodded. "Hell yes! Though how in this world this place was able to stock a plain I'll never know! Let alone this one!"

He chuckled. "So it's special?"

She ducked under the wing and opened an access hatch. "That's an understatement. The KZ is a personal VTOL jet."

He cleared his throat. "VTOL?"

Peaking up under the wing she smiled. "Vertical take of and landing. Like the Herrier jets from the turn of the century, but this handles better. If we can get it into the parking lot we could be to Wagon's Mount in a few days. I'm sure they will love us for it too."

He walked over and flicked her whiskers. "You can fly it, assume you can get it to work?"

"It uses five car sized water-cells, and I'm sure we can easily find that many. And I can pretty well fly it, I'm sure. Daddy used to be a pilot, he would let me fly at times."

Mike smiled. "Perfect then, lets do this."

This story is (c) 1998 by Fox Cutter, hardcopy reprints limited to one a person, all other rights reserved. This story may not be distributed for a fee except by permission of the author, and this copyright notice may not be removed.

Your Current Location is Chaos Keep : Stories : The Golden Light : Monsters and Death
Page last updated: 04/05/2008