Cascade Collection

by Phil Maxey

  The sound of its engine echoed around the walls below her. It’s coming up here. Damn. She looked around desperately for somewhere to hide, but there was only one place. The nest. She glanced up at the sky, and ran towards the twisted metal and wood, climbing over chairs and roots until she was inside it. She then crouched down. The pickup’s engine roared and it came onto the top floor, stopping twenty feet from her. One of its doors opened, and she could hear a man’s voice carried on the wind.

  “We have covered most of south of the city. Over,” there was a pause. “She could be in any of these buildings. I’m going to need more men. Over.”

  As the man continued to talk, Abbey looked up into the sky and saw it. It was small at first, a dark shape rapidly growing in size. No. No. She felt the back of her neck it was tingling. The man had stopped talking on the radio. Fuck. She rose slightly and glimpsed through the broken twigs and furniture parts. Where is he?

  “I found her!” the man was on the other side of the creature made barricade. “Don’t make me come in there and get you!”

  Abbey crouched even lower, touching her neck. Then everything around her got swept away as a gust of wind descended from above.

  “Shit!” shouted the man and the sound of gunfire mingled with shrieking.

  Despite her instincts not to, Abbey looked up. A huge feathered creature, similar to the ones she had seen months before was hovering above her, its attention split between her and the man. The creature, at least forty foot across, came lower, its talons only a few feet away from her head. She scowled. The tingling intensified, and ran across her head like bolts of electricity. No! She waited for the claws to tear into her. But they didn’t come. Looking up, the creature hovered and looked straight at her, it then swooped down over her and grabbed the man.

  The creatures sharp nails sunk into his shoulder and he was lifted off the ground. The other man ran to the back of the pickup, scrambling to get up into it and onto the large gun they had there, but he wasn’t quick enough, the creature grabbed him with its beak.

  Abbey watched mesmerized as the creature struggled to gain height as the two men screamed and grabbed at the vice like grip which was holding them aloft. The creature gave one last shriek and dropped in height, its wing crashing against the outer wall, and then together with its cargo dropped over the side.

  There was a distant thump. She shook her head to break free of the scene she just witnessed and ducked and looked upwards again. There was nothing there, and the tingling that had been eating at her had gone.

  Carefully she stepped through the broken parts of the nest and stepped back onto the concrete.

  “Reese? You there Reese? Over.” The mans radio sat on the ground. For a moment Abbey was almost afraid of it, like whoever was on the other end would see her somehow, but she then quickly grabbed it. The pickup sat with its engine idling. She dared not look, but moving past the pickup, she looked over the wall towards the street below. Only the creature with its huge wings strewn across the sidewalk could be seen.

  Turning around, she ran back to the pickup, threw the radio on the seat next to her, and turned it around. Taking a deep breath, she drove down the numerous slopes until she reached the ground floor. Creeping out of the building, she had a quick look left and right, and then headed south.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Martin Long sat studying his face in the large mirror on the dressing table. He did this every morning before he applied his makeup. The room around him was exuberant in its decor. Purple and pink velvet cushions fought for space amongst lush antique pieces of furniture and the other things. The things he cherished above all else.

  The morning light bathed the side of his face. Looking closer to the mirror he studied every line on his middle-aged face. Am I old? It was a question he often wondered, especially before his mask was applied. Carefully opening his jar of white face paint, he plunged his fingers into it, got a small amount and started dabbing it on his face, being careful to avoid his lips and eyebrows.

  After a few minutes, he was transformed. Not old anymore. He smiled. For his stage act he also used to wear a wig, but why now bother? The face would have to suffice. He then picked up his brush, dabbed it into the black powder and brushed it over his eyebrows. Finally, he picked up his purple lipstick and applied it thickly to his lips. Done.

  He looked upon his face, the face of a magician. A man that for thirty years toured the backwater parts of America with his partners in crime, Jack Russell dogs.

  Getting up, he turned around and walked to the first of them. Rocky. He was the first and the reason he had an act at all. He started out as the run of mill magician. Rabbits and doves would appear from places they shouldn’t, and he was good at it, one of the best he used to tell himself. But it wasn’t enough to earn him anything more than a motel room to live out of. Then one night walking home from another half drunk audience, a Jack Russell started following him.

  He tried to shoo it off, even shouting obscenities at it multiple times, but this dog wouldn’t leave. Finally he made it back to his room, and the dog looked so sad he had no choice but to let him stay the night. And another night. After a week, with no sight of anyone looking for a dog, he decided he would take him as his own, and so named him Rocky.

  He didn’t become part of the act for months though. The motel owners started to get antsy about their furniture being chewed when Martin was out doing his act, so to keep the peace and his room, he took the dog with him. And one night, while doing another of his perfectly rehearsed acts, the dog somehow got loose from the room he was in and charged onto the stage, barking, and jumping and thoroughly messing up his trick. But the audience loved it. Right there and then Martin realized fate had handed him a gift in the shape of a yappy, brown and white dog. The money started to increase, and he had a specially designed cart made for Rocky to travel in, which connected to the back of his motorbike.

  Ultimately the day came though, twelves year later when Rocky was too old to go on stage, and jump and bark.

  “Morning Rocky,” he said patting the stuffed animal on its soft head. He then moved to the next, “Morning Eno,” and finally he picked up a small collar which sat on a bright red pillow, embodied with the name “Ollie”. Holding the collar to his chest, he smiled and thought of how bright and fun his last stage partner used to be. A tear started to well in his left eye. He tried not to think of what Ollie turned into. What all the animals became. Devils and monsters.

  Putting the collar carefully back down. He pulled on his leather pants, white shirt, thick jumper, denim jacket and boots. Not the old uniform he used to wear, but now he had a different audience, he had to play a new role.

  He took one last look at his latest motel room, then left. The large gold framed poster which traveled with him wherever he went rattled on the wall. “TONIGHT IN LAS VEGAS THE ASTOUNDING GENEVA AND THE AMAZING OLLIE!”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  After the close call in the national forest the scenery hardly changed, only broken by the occasional view over distance cities and factories. But almost always the thicket of leafless trees, some covered in snow, some frost, kept them walled in.

  On a few occasions, usually when they were passing through a built up area Cal would get his tingling sensation, but it was always mild and quickly faded. Even when their route took them over bridges which repeatedly covered large areas of water, and they would see E.L.F’s way off in the distance, the creatures kept far away.

  But as the convoy got to about forty miles from Atlanta the tingling returned and this time it wasn’t going away.

  “Umm I think there’s something coming our way,” said Cal.

  “Can you tell where it’s coming from?” said Raj.

  Cal shook his head. He knew if he concentrated he would be back in the strange realm where he would see E.L.F’s as bright dots on a three dimensional radar screen, but he really didn’t want to visit that place again, so he just tried to feel where it was probabl
y coming from.

  “I think from the east.”

  “That’s directly on the route we are on. Still coming?”

  “Yup.”

  Zach clicked on his radio. “Bass, Michael, we might have an E.L.F coming at us on this highway, slow down for a moment. Over.”

  The vehicles all slowed in unison.

  “Now?”

  “Still coming.”

  “Damn,” he clicked on the radio again. “Bass, Michael, we need to stop. Stay close together, but make sure the guns are pointing east, and get ready for anything.”

  The convoy stopped. Soldiers jumped down from the truck, and moved into the nearby woods. Bass emerged from the top of the tank, and looked east with a scope.

  Zach’s radio came to life with his voice. “Zach, it’s a vehicle about three miles out coming fast. Could be Tinley’s people sent out a greeting party, shall I blast it with the cannon? Over.”

  “If it gets within half a mile, light it up. Over.”

  Cal’s tingling was of a type he had felt before.

  “I got to see this for myself, wait here. If things go south watch the sides of the highway, this could be an ambush,” said Zach as he got out. Cal went to say something, but Zach was already jumping up on top of the tank.

  Bass glanced at Zach who stood next to him. “Looks like one driver, and they seem to have some heavy weaponry on the back,” he crouched down to address someone inside. “Ready the big gun, don’t waste too much of ammo, it’s only a pickup driven by a crazy person.”

  “Can I get a quick look with the scope?”

  Bass handed him the device, and Zach looked, focusing best he could. His eye had healed, but his vision had decreased. Things at too far a distance were a bit of a blur. Abbey teased him that he needed glasses.

  A pale green pickup came into view. “Yeah I see them, what the fuck are they doing, can’t they see we have a tank? Get ready to fire on my mark,” Zach watched, trying to get a good view of who the driver was, but from this distance all he could make out was a dark shadow and reflections on the windscreen. “Get ready… Fire!”

  A stream of red glows spat from the end of the tank’s turret and hit the highway in front of the pickup which swerved, and then came to a halt.

  “Missed! At least they stopped,” said Bass. “Same again?”

  Zach heard the Humvee’s door open and close behind him. “Zach, the person in the pickup, they are like me, they are effected,” said Cal.

  Zach glanced down at him, not really absorbing what was being said, he then focused again with the scope at the person who was now waving at them, alongside the pickup. “It’s… a woman, I think… she’s… Oh god, everyone stand down! It’s Abbey!”

  Bass looked shocked. “What the hell.”

  Zach jumped down from the tank, and started running. Abbey was running too. One hundred yards. Sixty. Thirty. Ten… they embraced and Zach lifted her clear off her feet.

  “Ow.” She winced in pain and held her arm to her chest.

  Zach pulled away. “Sorry, how are you? Did he hurt you? Are you hurt?”

  Abbey smiled while tears rolled down her face. “I’m fine, well my wrist is broken, but apart from that I’m fine Zach, I’m okay.”

  Zach’s emotions tore at him, pulling him from rage for Tinley hurting the woman he loved to relief that she was standing in front of him, alive. He hugged her again being careful not to touch her left arm. The Humvee with Fiona driving pulled up behind them, and they all got out. Fiona ran up to Abbey and hugged her. Abbey winced once more.

  “Sorry, you’re hurt?”

  Abbey showed everyone her wrist. “Yeah, he broke my wrist, but that doesn’t matter, I’m here now.”

  “Where is he?” Zach looked anxiously around. “Is he chasing you?”

  Abbey went to reply in the negative when in the distance, almost unnoticeable a sound was coming from the pickup she had just left. A male voice. They all ran back to her pickup, where a voice they all recognized was coming from the radio on the passenger’s seat.

  “Abbey… Abbey Abbey Abbey… I know you can hear me.”

  Zach went to lurch for the radio, when Abbey put her hand up. “He might be triangulating where we are, from the radio.”

  “Good let him come,” said Zach.

  “Screw it, let’s just leave him there, what do we care what he does out here?” said Fiona.

  An awkward silence moved around the group.

  “We can’t leave, he has Daisy, I can’t leave her with him,” Every part of Abbey wanted to jump in the pickup and drive as fast as she could back to the camp with the others, and there was every chance that Daisy was dead, but what if she wasn’t? What if he was torturing her because she escaped?

  Zach picked up the radio. “You have a woman, we want her back. You leave her for us to pick up and we leave you alone, that’s the deal. Over.”

  A few seconds passed. “So the two lovebirds are back together. How do you think your ex-wife would feel about you starting again Zach? You obviously didn’t love her that much.”

  Zach closed his eyes to try and control the rage inside him. Then he felt Abbey’s hand on his shoulder and calmed. “I need proof of life. Over.”

  A full sixty seconds passed before Daisy’s voice came through the radio. “I’m alive Abbey, but…”

  “There’s your proof of life.”

  “7 p.m, on highway twenty, west of the city. Bring Daisy. If she’s not there by then, we are coming after you and your people. And we won’t stop until you are dead.”

  “Hey, am I not entitled to a trial? Would the council approve?” he could be heard sniggering, before he continued. “But sure Zach, whatever you want, we will bring the girl,” the radio went dead.

  “That was too easy,” said Fiona.

  “Yup,” Zach looked eastwards. “Bass, get on the radio, tell Op’s that we have Abbey back, and we have arranged a meet to get Daisy back as well. If we get the chance we will take out Tinley and as many of his men as we can, but there’s a very good chance shit will go sideways.”

  Bass nodded and ran in the direction of the tank.

  Zach walked up to Abbey and put his hand on her face. “Do we have any medics with us?” it was something Zach hadn’t even thought about until this moment.

  “Yes, we have Private Chapman,” said Fiona.

  “Abbey, go find Chapman, get checked out, eat, drink then we need to talk.”

  Abbey wasn’t sure what Zach meant by that. About Tinley? But the thought of any medical help for her wrist made her hurry in the direction of the parked vehicles.

  Zach then turned to Fiona and Cal. “We need to find a good spot, just west of the city, somewhere we can defend if needed.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Geneva looked out over the city of Atlanta remembering what it looked like at dusk. He stood in a forgotten office of one of the tallest buildings in downtown, a place he always liked to go at this time of day and thought about all he had accomplished.

  As a kid he had two dreams. Be a magician, and have his own biker gang. His own hard work and obsession helped him achieve one, and the Cascade helped him achieve the other. Every summer a bike club would drive through the small mid-western town he grew up in, and even though everyone else would be afraid of the bearded men in denim and leather jackets he would be in awe of them. Not so much of their impressive looking machines they rode on, but the fear they installed in everyone in the town. They were man and machine hybrids that people respected. And to be in charge of such a mechanical army, that would be the kind of power that he could only imagine.

  The city he was in now as the sun set, was the very same one he was in when the Cascade really got bad. He had been scheduled to do a show. One that he hoped would give some local kids some relief from what was developing around the world. That he and Ollie would show these kids that there are still some real animals left and they are our friends. But then the city was attacked and he saw thousand
s die by tooth and claw.

  He descended with some others into the bowls of the city, taking with them as much supplies as they could carry. He also took Ollie. He was a good dog, he wouldn’t become like those above ground. Those he was with, told him to leave Ollie behind, that he will change, but Geneva refused to believe. He would not, could not lose his friend.

  Except he did, and Ollie killed a good many of the survivors that were down in those tunnels. Eventually the thing Ollie became was put down by the underground dwellers, and Martin Long was exiled above ground, to survive on his own.

  I thrived.

  By time the blood stains on the sidewalks had been washed away by the fall storms, Geneva as everyone called him, had gathered a small band of fellow bikers around him. At first they bartered with those they came across. But just by being a bike ‘gang’ he saw the fear in people’s eyes. So they started to take what they wanted, from whoever they wanted. As their numbers swelled, they grew more ruthless, ransacking any town or community they came across. Some that joined them were actual ex-gang members, people who had been released from the prisons across the land, when the states gave up trying to hold them. These people knew about weapon stashes left behind by drug cartels. So they armed themselves and a biker gang became an army. Eventually he returned to Atlanta and reclaimed those underground areas for himself and his people.

  Like any army they needed spies. People that would tell him what the authorities that were left were up to. He didn’t want the world to return to what it was. It could never do that. The animals were gone. Now there were only humans and freaks of nature. He could do nothing about the latter, but the humans could be manipulated.