Shades Of Humanity (Surviving For Humanity Book 2)

by Kip Nelson

  He watched as the man brought his fists down on Greg's back, sending him sprawling to the floor.

  Tillman heard panicked footsteps.

  “Get out! Get out now!” he called.

  They weren't prepared. There was no way to defend the house now that they were inside. Tillman rested against the banister and raised his gun. The man who Greg had tried tackling brought his own gun around, but Tillman was quicker. He got his shot off moments before the other man did, hitting him square in the chest. Blood blossomed out, and Tillman ducked as wood chips flew out of the wall beside him.

  It wouldn't be the last time he was close to death.

  He tried moving around to find the rest of his family. Behind him he thought he heard Penelope gasp, but he couldn't tell for sure. He hoped they had made it out of the house alive because more men were pouring in. So far, he hadn't seen Khan, but there was a bald man who was terrifyingly tall. Tillman tried to step forward, but his leg gave out from underneath him, and he fell to the floor.

  The man came in. Without saying a word, he kicked Tillman in the face. Tillman was dazed. He began tasting copper as the blood filled his mouth. His last thought was that he had failed his family.

  Tillman searched around for Major. The dog had been so excited about all the new people that he had been scampering around the house and Tillman had lost track of him. It didn’t seem to be a big deal at the time, but now he wanted the dog beside him. The two of them had formed a firm bond in the time they had spent together, and it seemed odd that Major wasn't by his side.

  Tillman wasn't unconscious, but he was dazed, and his head was groggy. He could feel the weight of the gun in his hand, but he wasn't able to lift his arm for some reason. He looked up the stairs and saw Jessica and Anthony there. He shook his head, trying to warn them not to come down.

  Then he heard barking, and the sounds of gunshots cracking the air like thunder. The man who had kicked him was sent backward, slamming against the wall. A picture frame was dislodged and fell to the floor, the glass shattering. The man slumped down, the life having been forced from his body.

  Another shot rang out, this time killing another man in the kitchen. Tillman felt the warmth of Major's tongue licking his hands. He looked up to see his father standing there with a determined look on his face, a pistol grip shotgun in his hand. Another deafening shot rang out and another man died. They were starting to pile up in the kitchen.

  Tillman shook his head to try clearing away the stupor. Morelle had sunk to the floor and was being sheltered by Greg. The two of them were underneath the table. Tillman had no idea where his mother or Penelope were, but he and his father had managed to shield themselves from the initial onslaught.

  Somehow, Tillman thought, this was only the beginning.

  Fernando came up to Tillman and helped him up.

  “Are you okay, Son?” he asked, looking anxiously at the door. Penelope rushed up to Tillman and started wrapping his leg. Tillman winced and gripped the banister as pain shot through him.

  “We have to get out of here. Where's Mom?” Tillman gasped.

  “I'm right here,” Ana said, peeking her head out of the study.

  There was a loud crash as gunfire peppered the house, shaking it dramatically. Glass was shattering as some bullets thudded against the cushions that covered the windows, while others peppered the walls. Tillman heard his mother gasp whenever a picture or an ornament was destroyed. They all took cover as low as possible, praying they would be spared.

  Then the gunfire stopped.

  Greg and Morelle rushed out from the kitchen to join them, and the group were together, for Anthony and Jessica had made it downstairs.

  “What do we do now?” Ana asked.

  “I'm not sure we can run,” Fernando said.

  “You guys all should go. I'll hold them off while you make it to safety,” Tillman said.

  “It's no time to be a hero, Tillman,” Greg said.

  “I'll only slow you all down,” Tillman replied.

  “Can anyone see what's out there?” Fernando asked. “We need to know how many men they have.”

  At that moment, before anyone could answer his question, the back door swung open again, with an eerie creak. The doorway was filled with the hulking outline of Khan. Tillman spat blood as he saw him approach. He was even more fearsome now than he had been before. His entire body was rigid and he seemed as though he was in the mood for carnage.

  He stood in the doorway with his hands clasped behind his back and looked at all the death and destruction he had wrought.

  “You are a tough son of a bitch. It's costing me a lot to get to you,” he growled.

  “Then maybe you should stop,” Tillman said, his body shaking as he tried to steady himself. Khan pressed his lips together and kicked the first man Tillman had shot, the one with the hole in his head. Khan nodded admiringly.

  “You've made it impossible. If I'm to prove my might, then I need to ensure that nobody defies me. I can't allow you to stay here, especially if you're not going to submit to me. I have to admit, it's a pleasant surprise to see that you're here, though. It's almost like it's fate, as if the two of us are connected,” Khan said.

  “You mean you didn't know I was here?” Tillman asked.

  “Of course not. I just thought there was a stubborn old man who needed to be taught a lesson. But now that you're here it all makes sense, and I'm going to enjoy this. It's almost worth the life of these men,” he said with a callous disregard. He walked farther into the kitchen and now stood mere feet away from them. He reached up and placed his hands against the top of the door frame, swinging his body gently back and forth.

  He made an easy target.

  His confidence worried Tillman. Fernando raised his shotgun menacingly, and still Khan didn't blink.

  Tillman put his hand on the barrel of his father's shotgun, indicating that he should lower it. Khan smiled, showing the unnerving sight of his baby teeth in his adult mouth.

  “What's to stop us from shooting you?” Tillman asked warily.

  “Nothing, but if I don't come out of this house, all my men are going to storm this place. They won't stop until it's razed to the ground rubble and your bodies are buried underneath.”

  His eyes gleamed as he spoke, reveling in the madness of his cold rage.

  “What do you want?” Fernando asked.

  “Finally, someone who asks a sensible question. I'm here for my rightful tribute, Torres. You were quite rude when my man came up to you earlier. I'd rather be civil about these things, you understand, but, well, your actions seem to drive me toward these things. I much rather you would see that it's in your best interests to pay me what I want, rather than go through all this hassle. It's a fine place you have here. It would be a shame to see it fall into ruin,” Khan said, sliding his finger down the wall.

  “It's Mr. Torres to you,” Fernando said. “And the thing is, I can keep killing, I've got nothing but time.”

  “But time runs out for the best of us. I admire the grit, and I see where your son gets it from. But the thing is, he's already cost me a great deal of respect and manpower. As a result, I'm going to need even more from you. I see that there are plenty of you, though, so you should be able to provide me with a sizable tribute.”

  He saw Jessica and suddenly Khan brightened. “Ah, my queen! I am glad to see you are well. And you other women, do not fret, for you all will be able to pay your respects to me as well. Even you,” he said, lowering his tone as he looked at Ana. Ana shivered and stayed behind her husband.

  “We don't want any of this, Khan. You can't expect to shape the world into your image and you can't expect us to go along with it,” Tillman said.

  “I expect you to show me the proper respect, or face the consequences for not doing so,” Khan said, glaring at Tillman. He clenched his huge, meaty fist.

  Tillman knew this wasn't going to go the same way as their previous encounter. He should have suspected that Khan h
ad more men, that he wouldn't be content with leaving town. A man like Khan wouldn't have been defeated just by that one interaction, and Tillman wouldn't be able to talk him down now. With the sheer numbers he commanded it seemed as though Tillman had little choice but to surrender and hope to fight another day. The thought of it was anathema to him, though, and he wished there was another way out.

  “And what do you expect from us? What is this tribute?” Fernando asked.

  “Usually I wouldn't demand too much, but because of the trouble you've caused me I'm going to raise the rates. You have three days to give me fifty percent of everything you have. I want food, water, clothes, and anything else I can think of. If you don't have it ready for me in three days, I'll show you the wrath of a king, and you'll start to wish you had behaved a little better. You're looking at the new world order, my people, and you should bow to your king.”

  Khan puffed out his chest and looked at them expectantly. None of them bowed. Khan was getting more and more impatient with them as he strode around. He took his fist and smashed it against the wall, causing the house to shake. Tillman and the others bowed their heads respectfully, feeling as though it was a small price to pay for the sake of Khan not destroying any of them.

  “I will see this tribute in three days, or I will see you dead. Make sure you choose wisely, because Khan is king here, and you are nothing.”

  He turned and walked out of the house. There was nothing Tillman or his father wanted to do more than kill the man, but they knew it only would bring them more sorrow. Khan left, the door swinging closed behind him.

  Jessica ran to one of the windows and watched Khan and his men walk away. It was difficult to tell exactly how many there were, but as she described them it became clear that they had made the right decision not to continue fighting.

  “Well then,” Fernando said, putting the shotgun down.

  “What are we supposed to do?” Ana asked.

  “We have three days,” Tillman said. “I suggest we think of a way to fight back.”

  “First, we have to do something about them,” Penelope said, nodding toward the dead bodies.

  Greg took Morelle to the living room, where Ana took over taking care of her. Anthony went there too, his leg wound still hurting too much to offer much in the way of help. Tillman tried limping out to the living room, but as soon as he moved he almost collapsed. Fernando supported him.

  “You're in no condition to help now. The rest of us will see to the bodies. You start thinking of a way we can beat Khan,” Fernando said.

  Greg, Jessica, and Penelope helped Fernando drag the bodies away. Major came up to Tillman, who leaned into the couch and wished he could do more to defend his family against this madman. He idly stroked Major's head. Major already had lost one owner, presumably to Khan, he wasn't going to lose another.

  Tillman's head ached. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Morelle was sobbing along with Ana. Anthony was quiet, wringing his hands in his lap. He kept glancing toward the window, looking outside, afraid of what was lurking there.

  As Tillman looked around the house he remembered all the good times, and bad times, he had experienced. This was his home. His childhood. Everything he was he owed to this place and the memories it held. To see it being invaded and smashed was such a raw feeling. Khan thought he owned the world, and that he could do anything he wanted. Tillman had to show him that he was wrong. He had to prove to Khan that this wasn't a world for kings. It was a world for decent, honest people to live together and make their way to a better future.

  “Don't worry, I won't let him do anything to you,” Tillman murmured underneath his breath. He stretched out his leg and touched the wound, feeling a sharp pain. It was only a flesh wound. The bullet hadn't penetrated, it only grazed the side of his thigh, avoiding the bone and muscle. He'd be able to walk properly again soon. He might even be able to run.

  Chapter Twenty

  It only had been days since the EMP had struck the world. Already Tillman had seen the worst in people, and in some ways the worst in himself. There had been secrets revealed that made him look at those around him in a new way. He'd never forget the lengths to which Fernando had gone to protect his daughter, killing Javier so he never could interfere in Morelle’s or Jessica's life again. Tillman wished he had shown less hesitation when he was faced with killing Khan. If he had killed Khan when in the city, this all could have been avoided.

  He said as much when his father and the others returned from burying the bodies. They looked a little shaken, and Tillman wished he had been able to help, but his leg simply couldn't take it. His father moved to stand by his mother and Morelle. Jessica went to Anthony's side, and they made no effort to hide their affection for each other. Penelope and Greg sat on either side of Tillman, who had Major on his lap.

  “I don't think it would have changed this as much as you think it would have,” Fernando said.

  “Your father is right,” Penelope added. “There always are going to be men like Khan out there. We've seen plenty like them already, and it's still only the early days in this new world. We all knew there would be people like him out there. It's just bad luck that we happened to be in the same area as him.”

  “And you know what these people are like,” Greg said. “If you did kill Khan, chances are someone else in his gang just would have taken his place.”

  “You did all you could, Uncle Tillman. There's no sense blaming yourself. This is all Khan's doing. We have to think about the future. What are we going to do next? Are we really going to pay him this tribute?” Jessica said, looking more nervous than everyone else. Khan had threatened her in a way that he hadn't threatened the men. She and the other women well could suffer a fate worse than death if Khan decided to put on a full display of his power.

  “I'm afraid that if we give him what he wants, he'll keep taking and taking until there's nothing left to give. He says he only wants half, but men like him never will be satisfied. They'll push and push until we're at our limits, and then he'll attack and say that we brought this on ourselves because we didn't do what he said,” Fernando said, his eyes burning with anger.

  “People like him never want to take responsibility for their actions. They always try making it seem as though other people are to blame,” Greg said.

  “But can we afford to just sit here? Believe me, I don't like it any more than you guys, but I don't like the thought of us sitting here for three days, then Khan coming back to attack. There's no telling how many men he has. I imagine he's promised them all a share of whatever people give him, as well as safety. I don't think we'll be able to convince them that they're doing anything wrong. Maybe the best thing to do, this time at least, is to pay the tribute. At least it might buy us some time to come up with a better plan,” Tillman said. He couldn't believe he was the one suggesting that course of action, but after seeing what Khan was capable of he didn't want to taunt or goad the man any longer.

  “I understand that you want to be prudent, Tillman, but after meeting the man I do not believe any of us would be safe living under his rule. If we give him this tribute this time, he will know that he can own us,” Fernando said.

  “I already tried fighting back in town. It only made him angrier. If we give him what he wants, how much will we have left? Will we be able to survive?” Tillman asked, looking at his parents. Ana looked a little lost as she tried calculating how much food they had left.

  “It would be tough, but we probably could survive for a little bit, before we had to go out scavenging. It would be hard, though, especially if he continues wanting half of everything we have. It'll make it harder to grow crops and to live a sustainable life. I doubt we'd be able to harvest anything for winter,” Ana said.

  Tillman was pleased that his parents had been thinking ahead to winter, but it was sobering news. Giving into Khan now basically was giving up their future. They'd give him the fruits of their labors so that he didn't have to worry about earning his survival,
all so that they did not have to suffer his wrath. It seemed too steep a price to pay, but surprisingly, Tillman wasn't the one to say it.

  “We can't,” a small voice said through choked sobs.

  It was Morelle, addressing the crowd for the first time. She was quiet and meek. When she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper, although it grew in strength as she continued speaking. Tillman and everyone else were surprised to hear her speak like this.

  “What was that, Honey?” Ana asked, reaching out to touch her daughter's hand.

  “We can't give him what he wants. That's how it starts. You make a little sacrifice here, a little sacrifice there, then suddenly they're demanding things of you all the time. They tell you how to act, what to wear, what to say. They make you feel like a prisoner in your own home. They make you doubt yourself. They make you forget who you are. They tell you that you're wrong when you speak up against them. They tell you that you're stupid, that you should be lucky for them to spend time with you. They suck away your life without you even realizing it, and before it's too late you're completely broken by them. I've lived through that once. I will not do it again. I would rather die, and if any of you had lived through it as well, so would you. Khan doesn't promise us a life. The only thing he promises us is misery. Endless misery.”

  Her eyes were raw from the tears, and her body trembled. She had her arms crossed across her body, and her long black hair fell over her face like a mask. It had been a long time since Tillman had seen such an outburst from her, but it warmed his heart to see that she was ready to fight again. Jessica came across the room to hug her mother. It was a heartwarming moment, only tinged by the fact that they had the specter of Khan looming over them.