by Mark Tufo
“Hard liquor can be brewed,” he said meekly.
“Proofff?” I could barely speak.
“Somewhere around a hundred and ninety-five. It combusts quite nicely; makes for wonderful lamp oil.”
“Surprised it doesn’t explode.” Yeah, I took another swig to see if it was as bad as I remembered. It was. “Sm…ooth.” I coughed again.
Mathieu clapped my shoulder. “I have fruit; it is best to let it soak in the alcohol first.”
“I’m feeling like we’re going to need to drink hard and fast.”
Mathieu pushed the jug down before I could take another hit. “I’m not certain, but there’s a possibility drinking this straight will make you go blind.”
I let the jug down. “Buzzkill.”
“So, how bad is all of this?” he asked as we headed back to the house.
“You mean what if we have a wholesale demon war? I think it will make the Lycan wars seem like a social gathering at a country club.”
“Is an uneasy peace too much to ask?” Mathieu sighed.
“I sometimes think it is chaos that reigns supreme, my friend. One only needs to look at the animal kingdom to see that.”
“They are always in a struggle to exist.” He was pondering. “Man mistakenly thinks he has risen above that battle.”
“What battle?” Lana asked as we entered the house. “You brought that in the house?” she asked when she saw me carrying the jug.
“What is it?” Azile asked from the kitchen.
“A flammable cleaning solution Mathieu is attempting to pass off as alcohol.”
“Where are all the cats?” I was poking my head around the corner.
“It is only Sebastian inside. The rest have returned to do what they can.” Lana replied.
I was heading to the kitchen.
“Umm, I wouldn’t if I were you,” she said belatedly.
“Gonna go out on a limb and say this conversation is about me?”
She nodded, her eyes closed and lips pursed.
“It is true?” Gabriel asked.
“Well, truth…it’s fuzzy. Depends on what you’re asking,” I said to him.
“You are one of the seven?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know what that means.”
“You will soon.” He turned just as Azile came from the kitchen, her skin tone looked somehow flush and ashen at the same time.
“We’re going to have to warn everyone,” she said as she sat.
“I agree. We need to let everyone know, but how do we know?” I asked. “I mean how do we know they’re coming here? There’s an infinite number of places they could go before they even touched on this place and even then they could land anywhere on earth, right? Isn’t it hopefully egocentric to think this would be the first place they would strike?”
“You’re forgetting some very vital details. First, passing through realms is not necessarily the easiest thing to do, even with the borders weakened. Only those with great power can do so, and at great expense. If one naturally has the gift of crossing, such as Gabriel, he would be sought out, targeted.”
Lana hugged the boy tight.
“Then there are those whom you wronged, of course. Do you think that, given the opportunity, they would not come to do you harm?” she asked. “So, perhaps many will travel to distant realms and we may never hear from them again, but it is safe to assume we are going to have our fair share of trouble.”
“Can’t we hide him here?”
“He cannot stay in forever, and for those who know what to look for, he shines like a beacon on a cold and foggy night.” She bowed her head and placed her hands over her face for a moment before regaining her composure.
“Bring the fight to them?” I asked. The look she shot me should have maybe struck me dead.
“Yes, my beloved we should gather all of our forces and march straight into an unknown world of power, darkness, and treachery, where every advantage will be theirs.” She was standing now.
“I’m thinking a simple ‘no’ would have sufficed,” I replied.
“I think she’s still mad at you,” Mathieu whispered loudly in my ear.
“You’re quicker than me.”
“We have time. They will not be able to marshal any effective numbers for quite some time. We will need to be wary, though, as a small group could strike at any time,” she warned.
“We’ve got some news to share, and while it isn’t quite as grim, neither is it pleasant,” Lana said.
“Might as well pile it on now; shit tastes like shit no matter how thick or thin the sandwich,” I said.
“Your ability to articulate astounds me,” Mathieu said though he was smiling.
“Well, you have alluring alliterations.” Safe to say the rotgut four X brew was doing its job, though it soured in my belly as Lana continued.
“Had a trader come from the North on a route he’d never taken before; said he’d almost turned around and gone back from a smell so foul he felt physically ill.”
I was all too familiar with this. Either he had stumbled across a flatulent bulldog, which was unlikely, or a horde of zombies.
“Did he turn around?” I asked.
Lana shook her head. “No, he kept going. Came across a place called Ord Dium. Sound familiar?”
“Not at all. Should it?” I asked.
“He said it was a large, oval building, still standing, though he said it was from the Old Age.”
“He went in?” I asked incredulously, now figuring out what he came across.
“Artifacts from your age are hard to come by now and can fetch an incredible price,” Mathieu said.
“He found zombies in stasis?” Wasn’t even sure why I phrased it as a question.
“He may have been exaggerating, but he said there were thousands of them.”
“We need to burn that place to the ground.” Wasn’t anyone that didn’t agree with me. “Do you have a map to the place?”
“A crude one.” She handed me a piece of buckskin that had an X where Denarth was and another X where the building was.
“Kidding, right?” I asked turning it over, looking for the real one.
“I wish. He said he could get us back there.”
“Was there anything else?”
“He said that he thought it might have been an animal sanctuary; there were pictures of faded blue lions everywhere.”
My eyebrows furrowed as I thought on it; made absolutely no sense until it did. “Ford Stadium!” I shouted standing up. “Not Ord Dium–Ford Stadium! Home of the Detroit Lions. Kind of funny that the only thing about that team that made history was the stadium.”
“Is it big enough to hold thousands of zombies?” Mathieu asked.
“Hundreds of thousands.”
“That’s not good.”
“Not good at all,” I echoed. “We are going to have to make that a priority.”
“Of course,” Azile said. “As soon as the gates to the underworld are dealt with.”
“There’s always something,” I replied.
Chapter 4
Lycan Encampment
“It is good to be back to the old ways,” Huron said to Mikota, the new leader of the Seven Clans.
“Human meat was not worth being near them.” Mikota was gnawing on the entire back leg of a moose.
“It was not so much the taste of it as it was the satisfaction of killing them,” Huron replied. He tossed his finished leg away. “They were always so terrified; there is something to be said for having your prey beg for its pathetic life.”
“Careful, Huron. That is what got us into trouble to begin with. Xavier and Lunos craved human so much they made sacrifices that will have repercussions for generations. This is the life we have led for many years. We hunt and we live carefree, we are not shepherds tending to flocks. We still have the tainted ones we have to deal with, and I am sick of chasing down the infected feral humans. This is what happens when one is too ambitious. It was the dow
nfall of the humans as well. Look at the mighty mountain lion. He shepherds not, nor does he command. He hunts and leaves all others alone; he harms nothing around him except that which he needs to live. That is the life we should strive for.”
Huron stood and grumbled. “Yes, the mountain lion leads a majestic life, but hunting is hard, unpredictable. There is something to be said about having your food continually on hand.”
“Speaking of which, get me another leg, I’m still hungry.”
Mikota stretched out and looked at the sky. The wars had been cruel on his people; more than half had been killed in the three years of conflict. More died then than at any other point in their history, even than when vampires had actively hunted them for their Flining rituals. He wondered if things would have been different had not the Old One sided with the humans. Had he not rallied the mongrels, would Lycan now preside over all earthly matters?
“Careful, Mikota. These are questions which led Xavier down a dark path,” he mumbled to himself. “Took you long enough.” He sat up as he heard footsteps rapidly approaching; four deer ran past that would have trampled him had he not moved when he did. “What could scare deer enough that they would nearly run me over?”
“Smells like a storm,” Huron said approaching from the opposite direction.
“Did you see the deer?” Mikota asked.
Savage growls and howls came from the other side of the encampment.
“We are under attack,” Mikota said as he rushed over.
“The humans? We have an understanding.” Huron was following.
“They have short memories, but no, I do not believe this to be them. They could not have come upon us like this, not in great numbers.” They both stopped short as they came into a clearing. Mikota stared, speechless. He could not even comprehend what he was looking at. There was, he thought, a creature slightly more significant than he, yet it was nearly impossible to make out. It was a blurry, black smudge against the bright horizon.
“What is this evil?!” Huron cried out. He rushed in to help the two Lycan that were being thrashed up and down, pummeled into the ground by great tentacles that had wrapped around their mid-sections.
Mikota stopped him when he realized the two the creature had gripped where already gone. He did not wish to lose another of his clan. Small quills flew up into the air then pierced the ground in a circle all around the polion. Huron watched as two slid into the top of his foot. He howled in pain a moment later as the quills did what they were designed for. The polion, hearing the scream, moved with a quickness toward them. Mikota grabbed Huron’s arm and dragged him away.
“I cannot run! My leg!” he yelled.
They put some distance between them and the creature and stopped. Mikota bent over to examine the quills; he pulled them out quickly. The relief in Huron was immediate. The polion turned away and began to feed on the two Lycan it had killed.
“Are you well?” Mikota asked.
“I am now. What is that thing?”
They looked through the trees; the monster was still eating two of their kind while at least a dozen other Lycan watched it from a loose circle.
“Do not approach!” Mikota shouted. The creature seemed wholly unaffected or concerned that it was surrounded as it eagerly consumed large portions of meat. Mikota heard retching sounds and watched as stripped bones were ejected from the animal, or whatever it was.
Mikota threw a large stone. A resounding thud followed as the dark outline was struck. There was a menacing growl and then the animal continued to eat.
“Everyone! Grab the biggest thing you can and keep pummeling it,” he directed. “Now!” Huge rocks, tree stumps and branches rained down on the creature. It squealed in pain as it kept getting hit. Suddenly, it tossed its half-eaten corpse away and ran straight at one of the Lycan tossing boulders. A massive tentacle wrapped around his leg, lifted him into the air, then smashed him up and down. On the third strike, his neck was broken against the ground.
“Help me,” Mikota told Huron as he pulled up on a five-hundred-pound boulder. The two lifted it above their heads. “Now!” They grunted and strained as they hurled the deadly bomb. The back half of the creature dipped as it was struck; there was the loud cracking of its spine. It dropped the body of its latest victim and then it collapsed.
Mikota cautiously approached; two tentacles shot out but came up short before reaching his legs. They twitched violently then were still. The black haze around the creature began to dissolve; what was revealed before them was something Mikota did not think he would soon forget. A body, round and leathery, the sickly color of a grub, had been propelled by eight legs, each as thick as Mikota’s forearm. Three heavy tentacles protruded from equidistant points along its back. The entire bulk of it was covered in the spiny darts, much like a porcupine. Serrated teeth lined a large mouth which hung open; large chunks of bone from its last meal clung upon its massive lolling tongue.
“What is it?” Huron asked.
“It is not of this world. Something of the Green Man’s creation, perhaps.”
They all looked up as they heard more crashing through the woods. It was impossible to see the animal but not the dark cloud that obscured it. At first, Mikota believed there only to be two or three more of them; then he saw what appeared to be a thick, black fog rolling in, wide along the horizon. “Browgin–move the entire clan to the caves east of here. Guller, send word to the other clans of what we have seen here. Huron, you and are I leaving.”
“Where are we going?”
“First, we are going to move near to that line and observe. Then, I know two people that will have a very good idea of what this blight upon our land is.”
“The Old One and the Red Witch,” Huron sighed. “We would be better served staying here and fighting against that.” He pointed off into the approaching darkness.
Chapter 5
Mike Journal Entry 3
I was all about holing up in Azile’s Fortress of Solitude. She, however, wanted to head back to Lana’s home of Denarth.
“This is not about our safety but rather everyone’s. And after your last stunt, I find it hard to believe you are so concerned with your continued existence.”
“Not my existence I’m concerned about; it is the three of you,” I said as I touched her hand and looked to the children playing in their room. Who do you think won that brief but intense argument? Me–the big burly former Marine slash Vampire slash Archfiend, or the diminutive redhead? I was ready to leave within the half hour.
“I miss cars,” I said after the third hour sitting astride my horse. “Azile, you’re a witch. How come you can’t fly us there?” I stood up in my stirrups to rub my ass. She did not reply.
“You scare me sometimes.” Mathieu was next to me. Lana and Azile were following behind us in the cart.
“No worries. She’s not going to kill me; too hard to be a single parent these days.”
“That’s what you are basing your amnesty on? You antagonize without restraint arguably the most powerful being on the planet.”
“It’s the things I can do for her, and to her, that outweighs my mouth.”
“Funny how softly you utter those words.” He smiled.
“Not softly enough!” Azile shouted.
I could feel the heat flush up my neck and face.
“Aw, how cute! He’s all embarrassed.” Lana clapped. “I thought vampires were supposed to be masters of love and seduction?”
“Not this one,” Azile made sure she said loudly enough for all of us to hear.
Mathieu nearly fell off his horse as he laughed.
“It’s times like this I miss Linnick. At least she was consistent with her insults,” I grumbled. We stopped early that day; the kids were irritable and so was I. I’d once long ago complained about the pain suffered in the early days of the zombie apocalypse when we had been forced to use ladders as guard towers. Oh, how I relished the thought of that torture over what riding a horse could do to y
ou. The pain in my ass was so deep it thrummed through the entirety of me like a heavy bass note.
“You’re really starting to show your two hundred years,” Azile said as she patted the stone she was sitting on.
“Has to be softer than that damned horse,” I said as I sat next to her.
We had just finished up a meal of cooked rabbit, something that no matter how long I lived, was not going to be my most favorite thing. Unfortunately, they were far more plentiful than cows. The horses began to fidget. Oggie bristled and barked; I didn’t know if it was in response to the horses or if he sensed something on his own. None of us took the warning for granted. It was easy, once upon a time, to let these things slide, nervous animals, a twig snapping. Those days were long gone. Mathieu had already changed over; Lana had her sword out, Azile was incanting something. I had my rifle at the ready, though as of yet, there was nothing to shoot at. If this was a highwayman or a common thief, he had chosen his next mark incredibly poorly. Got to imagine he had been hoping for Ma and Pa Kettle coming back from a good trading in town. Instead, he got a ninja, a werewolf, a witch, a vampire, and a huge pissed off dog. Bad luck of the draw on that one. I’d probably feel sorry enough for him that I’d give him something. Not really, because that’d mean he’d bother someone less able next time, but the thought was there, and from what I’m told it’s the thought that counts. Should I sympathize with him as I’m throttling his head? I’m sure he’d appreciate it.
“Shit,” I said when I saw a figure step out into the pathway ahead of us. This wasn’t a robber. “Mikota.”
“Old one…I have been looking for you!” he shouted.
“Are you kidding right now? You really want to settle a vendetta, right fucking now? Can it wait until morning? Been riding a horse all damn day and my lower back feels like he was riding me.”
Mikota looked at the Lycan he was with. I knew that look even across species. It translated into. “Is he crazy?”
Funny thing is, most species are rightfully afraid of “the insane.”