Stacy screamed as she felt Alberto's body weight starting to pull her off of their mount. “No! Alberto!!”
The two, one alive, one dead, fell helplessly to the cold Kansas ground. There was a thick thud when their combined body hit the Earths floor. Stacy let out a painful groan as the air in her lungs quickly evacuated under the sudden jolt. She laid there momentarily stunned, her arms still around the body. Her hands were already covered in a thick layer of blood, it’s color was a deep red, nearly black as night. The warmth of the life-giving fluid was lost on Stacy’s, not only because her hand was pinned under the now dead weight of Alberto, but the overall shock had disrupted her physical senses.
“No! No! NO!!” Miguel said as he rushed to get off of his horse. In his hurried attempt one of his legs got held up in the startup, and caused him to fall hard to the ground.
Following his lead, all the others leapt from their mounts. Most ran over to either help Miguel up, help Stacy up or inspect the already decaying corps of Alberto. All except Dave.
Dave had known Alberto from the first days of the Blackout. He had become in one form or another, a little brother to Dave. Someone he felt responsible for, someone he had to watch over, protect. Someone who he, yet again let down, let die right before him. He walked, full in purpose, his feet heavy as they methodically pounded the earth, crushing everything underneath them. By time he reached the lone surviving Scavenger, he had his pistol in hand, the hammer cocked back and his finger already applying pressure to the trigger.
“Wait,” The Scavenger said. He was kneeling down on both knees, as he raised his injured right hand skyward, the broken tiger finger dangled oddly. By time Dave reached him all he was able to get out was a single word. It wasn’t even the full word, just a hint of the first notion of a word. He wasn’t even able to fully formulate the syllables in his mind before a blinding light burst in front of his eyes. A searing heat lurched out and enveloped his extended hand. He felt a pull in the center of his right hand, then a piercing pain in his right eye. Then, nothing, just empty, endless blackness.
Dave stood over the now lifeless body of the last Scavenger, blood pooled in the man's right eye socket, till it started to run over and trickle down the side of his face. The blood, bones, and brains that exploded outwards in a V shape from the man's skull, spread outwards onto the grassy floor. Dave held his gaze a moment longer before holstering the behemoth of a weapon.
Soon everyone was gathered around the hushed body of Alberto. He laid on his back now, his arms were rested alongside the body. His jacket and shirt which had been hurriedly pulled open to inspect for the gunshot, were now peacefully pulled back. His signature polo shirt, still adorned his body, a ragged hole where the built had entered, protruded graphically in the center of his chest. On a day that started to beautifully Alberto died. As his death added another name to the ever growing list of those who gave the ultimate sacrifice for a dream.
31 At the End
The Kings Land
It had felt like a lifetime since Tommy and Cherry were last here. The quiet town of Ridgeway still looked as picturesque as always, at least from a distance. It wasn’t till you encroached upon its frame, and allowed your gaze to peer within the brushstrokes, it was then that you see the crakes within the canvas. The flaws within the strokes, and colors that bleed together, sporadically crossing into unwanted or undesired destinations. To be fair, this was true to any town in this newly formed America. No one and nothing was safe from the vulgar grasp of the new regime.
For Tommy and Cherry though, being able to walk right back into their beloved cabin, was truly heaven on earth. Their escape from Independence Square, was a successful one, though not entirely easy. As instructed, they left behind the rifle and made their way back downstairs where a truck was waiting for them in the alley. It was only by bad luck that a local assigned Russian officer happened to be walking by at the time. When he saw Tommy and Cherry rushing out of the side exit of the building he quickly approached to inquire why the two were in such a hurry. Right away he realized something wasn’t right when neither responded to his inquiries.
It was Cherry who actually reacted first when the questioning officer reached for his sidearms. She, still armed with the binoculars, quickly through the looking glasses at the office. The binoculars themselves did little to deter the attack, but what it did do, distracted him long enough for Tommy to charge the officer. After a quick struggle, Tommy was able to place the man into a deadly choke hold, which he held till the life left the Russian officer. The officer was though able to exact some form of revenge. During the struggles on the ground, the officer successfully squeezed off a single round. The round punctured the left lower side of Tommy's stomach. It was clean in and out type of wound and wasn’t overtly fatal, but it was painful though and something Tommy has had to deal with for the rest of the trip back to the cabin.
Cherry eagerly pushed open the door to their first real home together. The wooden door had swollen a little in the damp air, causing her to have to give an extra shove to break it free from its emplacement. Her extra effort resulted in success as the wooden barrier swung freely inward. A wall of confined air slammed into Cherry as she stumbled inward, her momentum pulling her in with the opening of the door. The musty smell combined a cornucopia of aromas, some damp, others dusty, but underneath it, all was the familiar smell of home.
It was within these walls that Cherry and Tommy truly started to come together, and become one. It was also here that hope had once dared to spring its head, before being dashed to peace in an abandoned office building outside of Independence Hall. That’s the funny thing about hope though, you can beat it into submission, you can pulverize it and utterly destroy it. Despite all of that though, all it needs is the slight glimmer of light, the hint of water, and a single second devoted to it, and it will spring forth, just as strong as before, and with renewed vigor. Within these walls, lied everything needed to fertilize, cultivate and grow hope once again, allowing it to rise from the ashes of its own demise.
Tommy followed Cherry into the confined space of the cabin. They didn’t have much of personal possessions on them anymore. Most were either left at the five-star hotel or burnt in the basement of an abandoned building. They had the tattered Russian uniforms on their backs and each other. Lucky for them though, they had left some clothing behind, it wasn’t much, but it was clean and it was theirs.
Tommy felt it as soon as he sat down on the bed. His body was ragged, bleeding, and in a desperate need of a shower and shave. He allowed himself a moment to relax, a moment that proved to be fatal. He sat on the edge of the bed and allowed himself to fall backward onto the mattress. It didn’t hit him right away, it wasn’t till Cherry came over and sat down next to him and started to remove his shoes for him, that was when he felt it. He felt liberated and free, like the entire world had just opened up to him. With a clear mind a vision, no a quest was opened before his eyes.
He laid there, while Cherry rubbed his feet, he looked heaven word, towards the flaking paint that thinly covered the ceiling. Yet in his mind, he could see beyond the painting imperfections, and see what truly laid out there. Instantly, as if prodded from an electrical shock, he sat stiffly upright. “Let’s go somewhere! Or we can stay here,” He said one statement then the other so rapidly they came out mushed together, forming one long conglomerate of words and sounds. “No we can’t,” He quickly added to the melee of verbal jarring. “Mr. Edict and the King know about this place, Hell it is their place. But somewhere, somewhere like this, someplace on the edge of some unknown town. I mean there have to be hundreds of them to choose from. I’m sure there are plenty of abandoned homes, cabins and such that we can move right in and start a new life together.” He paused to catch his breath as well as catch a glimpse of Cherry, to judge her expression to all of this.
There sitting at the edge of the bed, Tommy left foot still in her hand, Cherry allowed her self a moment to feel, as a tear begin to
escape and race down her cheek. “Yes! Yes!”
With that overly exuberant response, Tommy’s mind shifted into overdrive, as he looked around the room to decide what they would take, what they wanted to take and what they had to take. They couldn't waste any time, not even one night. They were scheduled to have arrived at the cabin yesterday, but due to the injury sustained by the Russian officer, they were delayed a day. Any time now Mr. Edict could show up and that was the last thing they wanted. If they were able to get out before he got here, they figured he would search some, but not too hard. After all, Cherry was of no importance to the King or his plans, and Tommy had already fulfilled his part of the deal, so there was really no more need for him.
“Okay,” Tommy said, a bit to eagerly as his movements pulled at the bandages that protected his gunshot wound. “I’m going to go take a quick shower, get out of these rags, put a fresh dressing on my gunshot, and then we can start packing and get out of here. How does that sound?” He asked as he looked over at Cherry who was still sitting on the bed, her eyes wide and a grin on her face that took up the majority of the available space.
“Yes, hurry, I’ll get things together,” Cherry’s responded quickly and to the point. She didn’t want to waste any time on unless additives, verbs or any sort of vocal fillers. She wanted her man to get cleaned up, patched up and on the road. For at this point on, Tommy was truly going to be her man, and she was going to be his, only his.
Tommy rushed into the quaint little bathroom to take a much-needed shower. Between the time spent at the sniper's nest setting up for the shot, then the meticulous travels back to the cabin, his body was in desperate need of a cleaning. As he stood in the shower, the warm water cascading over him, he pulled the day-old bandage off of the bullet wound. He winced momentarily as the tape used, pulled at his skin. The gun shot wound didn’t appear life-threatening, but it was in need of cleaning. The center of it was black, and a dark purple bruise had formed around it. He took a rag, covered it in soap, then he gently dabbed at the dried blood. Soon the water at his feet had turned red, as the re-hydrated blood ran freely.
Tommy finished up his shower, stepped out into the bathroom and softly applied a fresh bandages to his wound. As he looked in the mirror, he was taken aback by the image that greeted him. The past few years have not been kind to him. He wished he could blame the blackout for his appearance, or the lack of work after he got home from his last deployment, he even wished he could blame all the alcohol he drank when he first got home. But he knew none of those were to blame, it was the man staring back at him, whom should be fingered for the wrongdoings that led him to this place.
He took a moment longer to look at himself, to look at what he had become. His hair was wet and wirier as it shot out in multiple directions, a scraggly looking beard had attached itself to his face. His eye had been sucked inward, as dark circles raced around them. His cheeks looked thin and hallow and his lips appeared dry and cracked. However, despite all of that, if he looked beyond the external layer of first impressions, he could see something. Something that, despite his earlier attempts, had grown stronger and stronger within him. There, in the corner of his bloodshot eyes, behind the red lines that shot across his eyes like lightning, he could see hope.
Tommy wrapped a thin towel around his waist, water droplets still clinging to his weathered skin. “Cherry,” He called out, as he opened the bathroom door, as steam rushed free from its containment.
“Tommy, NO!” Cherry yelled out, her words quickly shoved back into her mouth, causing her to nearly choke on them.
Tommy froze in place, stunned, shocked, angered and worried. All of these emotions wrapped their greedy hands around him, nearly tripping him up. Water droplets began to race down his taut skin. His left hand still grasped the edges of the paltry towel, as his right sat still, halfway up, halfway down. His eyes bounced around in his head, like ping pong balls on bingo night at the local VFW. They jumped from Cherry to the nearby table where the pistol, taken from the dead Russian, now sat calmly.
“Tommy,” Mr. Edict began, his voice smooth, still, almost calming. Except for the fact that he stood there, right arm around Cherry’s waist, while his left was clamped around Cherry’s mouth, while his fingers dug deep into her cheeks. “I must say, from a strictly personal view, that shot you made, was amazing. I mean, seriously, that was a thing of beauty. I am glad to see that you made it back here. Yet again, you have surpassed my expectations.” He paused as he looked into Tommy’s tired eyes. He followed their movements, from Cherry to the gun and back to Cherry. “I got to hand it to you, even now, you’re thinking about fighting. I do love it. That is why I am very glad to offer you a job.”
Tommy was playing out a slew of scenarios that might happen over the next few minutes, but a job offer wasn’t one of them. It was so bizarre, so random that it snapped Tommy out of his daze completely. “What? Are you joking?”
Mr. Edict allowed a genuine smile to push through his lips, “No, I’m not joking. Between you and me, the King wanted me to kill you. If you got here alive, I am to kill you and burn this place down, with your body in it. But…” He trailed off, allowing the final word to dance around the room. “He’s not long on this earth, the King that is. When he is gone, I will be the new man wearing the crown. You will have to stay hidden for a bit, but after that, you can, well, you can be the new me.”
Tommy stood there, allowing his thoughts to collect within his mind. As he looked at Mr. Edict, and Cherry, he noticed that Mr. Edict wasn’t holding a gun. That both of his hands were occupied with restraining Cherry. Just like that, everything in Tommy’s body relaxed. “Tell you what Mr. Edict,” He started, as he ever so slightly shifted his weight, allowing his body to lean in the direction of the table where the pistol waited anxiously. “You give me Cherry, and come back tomorrow. I will be ready then. I just want one more night with her, after that, I’m all in.”
“See…” Mr. Edict started but wasn’t able to get any further than that.
Tommy lurched for the pistol, as he released his grip on the towel, allowing it to fall freely to the ground. As soon as he moved a searing pain ran through his gut, where the freshly placed bandage separated from his skin and blood began to once again run freely. He quickly diverted his attention from the pain and focused on his hands, his feet. He pushed his wet feet up off of the wooden floorboards, as he sprung towards the table. His fingers reached, stretched, for the grip of the pistol. They eagerly waited to wrap themselves around the grip, as his right index finger would slide into the trig guard and nestled itself up against the trigger.
In his mind he could see it perfectly, as his hands would grasp the pistol, his finger would perfectly fit into its assigned spot, all while he was sliding across the table. In that motion he would spin and direct the pistol at Mr. Edict and get at least one shot in before Mr. Edict would be able to react. Hopefully, it would be enough, to slow Mr. Edict down enough to allow Tommy to take a second, more directed shot, putting the man down for good. The only unknown in all of this would be Cherry. He can only hope that once he made his move for the pistol that she would follow suit and make a move of her own, and allow Tommy a full target.
In his mind the landscape for success had already been worked out to perfection, in reality though, not as much. The pain in his gut proved to be his downfall, as well as Cherry’s. It limited his reach and his strength when he went to push off towards the table. As he made his move, he stumbled, instead of leapt, and fumbled pistol instead of firmly grasping it. Then to top it off, instead of sliding off the table and turning to shoot, his wet body, quickly adhered to the wooden surface of the table, as his body skipped more than slid. To his credit though, he never gave up, and once he did have the gun in hand he quickly turned it towards Mr. Edict and yelled out, “Let her go!”
Mr. Edict still stood there, his right arm around Cherry and left hand now freed from around her mouth rested calmly at his side. He was now wearing a devili
sh smile, one that would make Old Nick proud. “Oh Tommy, yet again, you never disappoint. However, I have some disappointing news for you. Cherry here,” he gestured to his captive with a simple nod, “She’s no saint.” He said as he thrust a six-inch blade into the back of Cherry. It plunged into her spinal cord, severing it instantly. Unable to hold up the dead weight, he released his grip from around her waist, and allowed her to fall straight down.
Fire ran through her body, as Cherry cried and let out a terrifying scream. The type of scream used by those how have to witness the depths of Hell that lives within man's humanity. She laid there, on her chest, unable to move her legs. Blood now radially escaped out of the puncture in her back, as it seeped into her shirt and ran down both sides of her back. She pushed her self up partially with her hands and attempted to pull herself towards Tommy. She tried to scream his name, but all that came out was a jumble of letters and sounds. It sounded like she was gargling with gravel, everything was broken and out of order.
Mr. Edict pulled his attention away from the dying corps that now flailed about the floor and redirected it back to the naked body of Tommy and the gun he still held pointed at him. But before addressing that instrument of murder, he had to address the other first. He pulled out a white handkerchief from his left pants pocket, and smoothly pulled the longe, bloodstained blade through it. Causing it to come out the other side clean and shiny once again. He then placed it back into the letter sheath strapped to his belt. He palmed his pistol that was tucked neatly between his waist belt and his body. Gun in hand he returned his attention towards Tommy.
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