“I took some of the pig meat,” she said. “He had a lot of it, and I thought it might go bad before he ate it all, so... I...”
“Good idea. We’ll need it if we want to get through the wasteland.”
Next came Peter, hobbling and scowling. He carried several sticks and a large bundle of greasy clothes.
“You doin the old man’s laundry?” said Marlon. He scanned the woods for demonic hordes, one gun in each hand. There was no doubt in his mind how intimidating he appeared.
Peter’s eyes locked onto the guns and he answered the question as if reading from memorized notes. “We can tie these rags to the sticks and make torches, for the mine. I’ve got a flint and some tinder, too. Now, son, how’d you come by those firearms?”
Marlon pretend-fired the revolver five times into an invisible demon, then aimed the gun at the ground and executed the monster with his final shot. “Oh, it’s no big deal,” he said. “That old man was sittin’ on ’em. Figured I’d borrow ’em.”
“Best you hand them over, son,” said Peter.
“To you?”
Peter nodded.
“Well, the shotgun is definitely mine. That’s not even up for debate. And I was going to give the revolver to Wodi.”
“Ah, boy,” said Peter, shaking his head slowly. “You forget, I used to carry the shield and wave the banner, as they say. We’re a part of the same brotherhood - it’s only right that we keep the arms to ourselves. We’ve had the training. The boy hasn’t. It would be better for the group as a whole.”
Marlon had no quick reply. Peter felt an opening and said, “Remember: ‘Fraternity before mischief!’ ‘Honor above sleep!’ ‘Invigoration through discipline!’ Remember?”
Marlon said, slowly, “Yeah but, you know, he’s proven himself, hasn’t he? If he can do what he’s done with a rusty piece of metal, then…”
“You’ve forgotten, then! Forgotten your oath, now, have you? Is that it, son? How could you forget… ‘Will no one help the widow’s great-uncle?’ It’s the second line to the chorus of “Fraternite, Fraternite”, the musical version of the oath of every Guardian of –”
“Alright, alright!” said Marlon. “God’s death, man!” He tossed the loaded revolver at Peter, then threw the bag of bullets at his feet. “If you remember all that crap, then you better remember how to shoot, too. Sorry, Wodi.”
“That’s fine,” said Wodi, hiding his disappointment. “I already stole it once. I can do it again!”
Marlon laughed, then said, “I only gave it to Peter so the demons would at least have a chance against us. Here, Wodi – you can have this.” Marlon handed Wodi the black spear, then said, “That is, unless anyone wants to argue about that, too.”
“I don’t want it,” said Iduna. “I’ll just keep… the doctor’s spear.”
Wodi handled the heavy spear. With it, and the sword of the dogman pup sheathed on his back, he felt ready for anything.
The door of the hut banged open and shut, and Jules walked out with short steps.
“Careful!” said Marlon. “You’ll wake the old man!”
“All the old men are awake,” said Jules.
“All of ‘em?” said Wodi.
“Yes sir.”
“He didn’t say anything?” said Marlon. “About his guns?”
“No. We talked a little, ate a biscuit. He says the mines are only a little piece away, that way.”
“Uh, did he say anything about us stealing his meat and clothes?”
“No,” said Jules. “He’s old, crazy. He’ll notice his stuff gone, later, and not all at once, and he’ll assume that he lost his things one at a time, and not all together. That’s the way we are.”
“Is that true?” said Wodi.
“For a lot of us, yes.”
* * *
The five sat in the middle of the clearing and tied the old man’s rags to the stout sticks. Iduna had her pants rolled up and suddenly noticed her legs. They were covered in black nubs. She touched her legs and felt the prickly hairs.
“I need a razor,” she said.
“I think we already robbed that old man blind,” said Marlon. “You could use Wodi’s rusty old sword.”
Peter huffed loudly, then said, “Pure vanity!”
Iduna glared at him.
“As for me,” said Peter, “I wouldn’t let my wife lay hands on a razor. Of that, you can be sure! Why, I find a little natural hair does wonders for a woman’s appearance. What do you boys think?”
Iduna felt her stomach do a backflip. She rolled her pant legs down.
“It’s getting on midday of the third day we’ve been here,” said Marlon. “You can see the mountains over the treetops. We’ve made pretty good time. If it’s true that those mines go all the way through those mountains, and if we get lucky and don’t get lost and starve to death, and if we manage to find water and figure out a way to carry water with us, and if we don’t manage to get eaten by something while we’re in those mines, then we should reach the wasteland soon. Things’ll be different out in the world. I’m not even sure how we’re going to cross all that distance.” He thought for a moment, then said, “We might meet other people. Primitives, you know, on the far side of the mountains.”
“That would be interesting,” said Iduna.
“Interesting, ha! Sure. I’m just glad I’m packin’ heat.”
While Wodi tied off another torch, he studied the sharp blue sky over the circle of tall treetops. He felt as if he was struck by the beauty of the valley for the very first time. “You know,” he said, “we’re lucky, in a way.”
“What!” said Peter. “Don’t tell me you’re losing it, son.”
“I’m not saying it’s been enjoyable. But we’ve been given a very special opportunity… a very special insight into the world. The world beyond the veil of what we’ve been taught.”
“How you figure?” said Jules.
“Nobody talks about demons,” said Wodi. “All my life, it was like pulling teeth to get anything out of anyone. That includes teachers, too. And when anyone did talk, it was to say that our only hope of survival was to hide in Haven. To bide our time and wait for the rest of the world to slowly die off. But look at us! There were seven of us armed with sticks. Only two of us have fallen. Now, imagine how we would have done if there had been more of us, and we’d been armed with the best guns and the best armor that Haven could produce.”
Wodi was still entranced by the piercing blue sky as he continued. “And imagine if we had artillery and air support. Imagine if we could go into those communities that hide from demons, or worship them, or sacrifice to them, and send them our best teachers. And we wouldn’t just be converting the world, turning others into us… we could even learn from these people! Imagine what might happen to our own culture if we brought this world together and learned how to not live in fear! Don’t you think it’s strange that the most powerful civilization in the world lives in fear of the outside world?”
Wodi thought for a moment, then added, “Maybe we could convince our leaders that that is Haven’s destiny. And if we did, then maybe in a few generations, this world –”
“Shhh!” said Marlon. “Quiet! Listen!”
They heard nothing. Slowly the realization dawned that the entire forest had become utterly silent, as if thousands of scampering, screeching, living things now hid deep, deep down, waiting for some great horror to pass over and claim another.
“Saul?” Wodi said quietly.
Marlon covered the boy’s mouth.
There was a humming drone, a low vibration almost below the level of awareness. The hum grew deeper, then individual cries rose from the abyss.
“Run,” said Marlon, rising. “Run! Don’t stop ’til we reach-”
His words were drowned out by the approaching wave of sound, the endless aural hurricane of a multitude of stampeding monsters charging through the forest. The five abandoned the hut and ran to the north, tearing through vine and over stream
s, the ground shaking beneath them. The cry behind them built into a swirling mass of solid thunder that battered at the ears and threatened to tear down their sanity. Iduna chanced a look behind and saw a seething white mass of ghouls pouring forth behind them, then she saw them dashing along on either side, threatening to drown them in putrid flesh and rotting fang.
Peter fired the revolver behind him as he ran. The others heard six tiny pops, high-pitched wheezes that fell into and were absorbed by the impenetrable wall of sound. Any of the hundreds of ghouls that were hit were consumed like droplets of water in the sea of doom.
Jules lagged behind, and everyone was too intent on their own panic-stricken flight to help him. Abandoned, his mind raced into dark places and he saw that the thing that came at them was like a god, a god born at the end of all worlds, a crushing weight of irrational hunger intent on senseless annihilation. He saw the others draw ahead of him. He cried out, but his voice was lost in the endless scream, the pounding feet. First a sharp finger touched his back, then a thousand pounds of entropy slammed into him, pushed him down, then the rushing legion crushed his body and passed over him.
The four saw light ahead. They burst out of the forest and came to a wide, rocky flatland nestled between the arms of tiered gray stone that lay at the feet of the mountains. The frozen sun was suspended overhead in the blindingly blue sky of another world. A wide, rectangular tunnel lay far ahead.
Between them and the entrance to the mines, a cold, shallow pool sliced across the flatland. Six ghouls and their chieftain stood in the pool like decaying statues, waiting for the humans. The four humans ran straight for them, more from fear of the horde behind them than from bravery. Marlon stood at the edge of the water, aimed down the barrel of the shotgun, then blasted thunder into the large chieftain; in a violent explosion the ghoul’s face and neck disappeared and his body fell into the water. Marlon aimed again and, in one blast, obliterated two ghouls and crippled a third. While he reloaded, Wodi leaped into the water and ran the black spear through the guts of one ghoul. To his surprise the ghoul clutched the spear and twisted away. Wodi could not free the spear before another ghoul was upon him. He unsheathed the sword of the dogman pup and brought it up into the newcomer’s jaw, shattering the chin and roof of the mouth. By the time he dispatched the newcomer, the other one had already splashed and staggered its way into the deep end of the pool, taking the black spear with it.
It threw its life away and took the spear! Wodi thought. They’re possessed! This is some kind of trap!
Wodi turned back and saw Iduna standing over the last ghoul’s body, out of breath, the bloody spear of the doctor shaking in her hand. Peter stood behind her reloading his revolver, fingers twitching uncontrollably. From the corner of his eye he caught movement at the base of the mountains. There was no time to warn anyone, for just then the horde broke through the forest. The horrible drone of their screaming echoed from the stone so that a high, cold whine rang out, breaking and echoing in a thousand layers of ululating madness.
The four slogged through the pool, then pulled themselves onto the stone floor. They raced to the tunnel entrance. Lone ghouls ran from either side to slow them down; Marlon bashed them aside with the butt of his gun and Wodi chopped them down with his sword. Only Iduna looked back to see the horde crashing into the pool behind them, sometimes even trampling their own.
“God dammit!” Marlon shouted suddenly, and pushed Peter to sway their path off to the right. Wodi looked at the entrance and saw another wave of white heads pouring out of the tunnel entrance, white limbs shivering, intent on crushing the humans between the other wave. The four ran between slabs of cut stone. Marlon saw other, smaller entrances cut along tiered paths that led up the face of the mountain.
Marlon led them through the path of stones, then Wodi dashed ahead, intent on cutting a path if necessary. As he rounded a bend he saw a clan of crouching ghouls guarding one of the rising paths, their smiling heads nearly touching the ground beneath their bent knees. They rose and Wodi fell back, choking on a warning to the others. Marlon crashed into him and nearly knocked him over, then raised the shotgun.
“Eat this!” he cried. Hell poured from the barrel, the deafening blast like a thunder god giving birth, sending up skin and bone and gallons of black blood into the air and against the rock wall. Marlon swung about and blasted again, smearing the remainder of the pack in a brilliant shower. As he reloaded, Wodi raced ahead again, executing the crippled survivors with his sword. “Keep moving!” Marlon shouted, and they raced up the narrow, gore-drenched path cut into the mountainside.
They raced up the side of the mountain until they came to a sharp bend ahead of them. On the flatlands far below they could see an endless throng of white monsters, a sea of white heads packed in tight, mouths wide in adrenalin-ecstasy. Just as Marlon chanced a look behind to see if any were gaining on them, a trap was sprung: While a dozen or more ghouls came around the bend ahead of them, others rose up from hiding places on ledges above them and slid down to meet them, scrambling and cackling.
Marlon turned to the slathering pack ahead of them and unleashed a blast from the shotgun that liquefied the lead killers. Peter shot dead one of the ghouls above, who fell and rolled into the path, then toppled into the throng below, but the other ghouls fell on them rapidly. Wodi became a slow, brutal whirlwind, hacking and chopping limbs on all sides. Peter watched, looked for an opening to shoot, and just then a ghoul collided with him and sent him spinning. He hit the ground and watched in horror as both ghoul and gun toppled over the side. He crawled to the edge and stared into the writhing mass, wishing that he had fallen with the gun.
Marlon emptied round after round into the bend as ghouls poured out before them. His bag of ammo became lighter and, as he fought to reload the gun as quickly as possible, three rounds spilled out. Peter crouched on his hands and knees, unable to move, and watched as Wodi tore away from his attackers and dived after the fallen shotgun shells. That action saved his life: Peter watched as one last ghoul slid from the mountainside, leaped over the space where Wodi had been, and then crashed directly into Iduna. Both Iduna and the ghoul flew from the narrow path.
Peter was overcome with horror as he watched the throng below. Iduna disappeared among them. He saw only thrashing limbs coated in red. He felt a struggle on his back, turned, and saw a ghoul with teeth clattering mere inches from his face. In a flash the boy Wodi was on them both. Smeared with blood and face twisted by rage, the boy jerked the ghoul from Peter’s back and chopped over and over again with his heavy, dull blade. Peter could only watch, deafened by shotgun round after round, as Wodi’s blade became hung up in the ghoul’s thick skull. Both ghoul and blade fell over the side. Though he could see the Wodi was exhausted, the boy still grabbed him by the arm and hauled him to his feet.
Wodi pulled the three shotgun shells from his pocket and gripped them in his fist, knuckles turning white. Peter knew that the boy would die before he would drop the precious rounds, and he hated himself for losing his only weapon.
Marlon finally stopped firing and they could see that the bend in the path ahead was coated in steaming gore, as if the earth itself had been fatally wounded. Wodi tapped Marlon’s back and they stumbled through the slippery path of twisted limbs and open stomachs. Ahead, on a broad terrace, they saw a small opening into the mountain. They knew that ghouls must be filling up the path behind them and so, when a handful of ghouls crept from the opening before them, Marlon blasted them and they filed inside without pause.
Marlon crouched and leaned against the wall and, as Wodi and Peter filed past, he shouted something. Wodi was deaf but watched Marlon’s lips repeat, “Light those torches! Light those torches!”
Wodi pulled the torches from Peter’s back and they knelt and Peter struck the flint to light a mass of them. Ghouls streamed into the entrance behind them; Marlon fired, limbs bounced and blood splattered. Again and again Peter struck the flint. Again and again Marlon fired at the ghouls
that crawled over the dead. Again and again the spark of the shotgun blinded them, then darkness enveloped them as the dead clogged up the narrow entrance and shut out the light. Wodi saw a nightmarish scene of the narrow entrance packed with biting heads, red limbs twitching, reaching out, then he felt heat beside him. The torches were lit.
Wodi took one, then tapped Marlon’s shoulder. With one final blast that opened up several maggot-eaten heads into a spray of broken eggs, Marlon rose, took one of the torches, then the three survivors ran deeper into the dark earth.
* * *
For a long time the three descended a man-made tunnel supported by thick wooden arches. The torchlight danced along cold black walls and soon they could see their own breath in the freezing air. No words were spoken. Each was locked in his own thoughts, unwilling to confront the nightmare they had just come through. They found no sign of ghouls in the earth, only branching tunnels and endless darkness. Still, they felt as if they had not yet woken up, and that the nightmare was not over.
[Demonworld #1] Demonworld Page 15