The Risen: Dawning

by Marie F. Crow

  “I can’t just sit by.” I tell her as an apology for leaving her here.

  “I know. You always were the strong one.” She hugs me as the screams start again. This time I know the voice that holds it. J.D. has found Shelia.

  Chapter 56

  Lawless, Chapel, and Rhett stand with pointed guns at J.D. He is holding his own long handgun to Shelia’s temple. His black vest shines under the overhead lights with the many layers of his victims. His hand shakes with confusion and fear at the sight of Lawless standing in front of him. The gun in his hand trembles against Shelia, unsettling her more with its vibration.

  Ross leans against the wall, bent over from a wound to his stomach that stains his clothing. Richard is pressing against it to slow the blood flow with a frozen face of wrath. Dolph stands, blocking his friend with his body. His eyes dart from J.D. to the men that are trying to defuse the situation, as Simon kneels before them, keeping his eyes on Shelia.

  “They had to pay. You understand, don’t you boy? They had to pay for what they did to you.” J.D.’s voice is high-pitched with his pleading. “I couldn’t just let it slide. Not for you. Not for my boy.”

  Lawless remains mute. His mask, like those around him, is firmly in place, giving no hints to his thoughts or emotions. Their fingers resting firmly on their cold, metal triggers are the only clues to their mindset.

  No matter which road J.D. takes us down now, someone is going to die. Marxx side steps, blocking me from any crossfire that may occur. He places his hand on my arm, telling me to remain silent. It won’t be me that fixes this tonight. Another nightmare is about to be made for someone, if not for all of us.

  “I raised you like you were my own. All those times it was unsafe for you, it was my house you came to. I taught you how to shoot that thing. I taught you how to ride. I taught you how to be a man. I raised you. You were mine, and they took you from me. They took my boy. My boy that was worth more than all of their lives combined. My boy.”

  J.D. continues to talk to the Lawless from his past. He is either unaware or not understanding that he is here with us now. He is pleading with the ghost of Lawless to understand and forgive him for his actions. Our once powerful leader is now crushed from the weight of this world. He is shattered with the loss of the only child he was ever able to claim as his. His son, the man he thought he watched die for him, Lawless.

  “I am going to make them pay. I will make this place pour red for you. For my boy. You’ll rest at peace then. Won’t you? You’ll rest knowing I made them pay for you. Don’t stare at me like that, son. I’ll make them pay. You’ll see. I’ll make them pay.”

  J.D.’s eyes leave Lawless, and it is the signal that ignites the room. The gunfire is ear splitting with its reverberation in such a small space. J.D.’s body jerks with each round that lands, causing blow out to spray the space red behind him. Shelia’s body falls forward, limp with the life that J.D. has attempted to steal from her. I hear my screams tear through my body with the same burning fire of the bullets that tore through J.D., and I fall in time with him as our legs give out from under us, with Simon echoing our misery. J.D. watches me as we fall, the gun slipping from his hand that now reaches for me in his death. Only Marxx’ weight keeps me from crawling to him as he pins me with his body to the cold tiles of the floor. Tiles that are as cold and unfeeling as the faces of the men that have stolen from me the only Father to ever hold me.

  J.D. stares at me as he fights for his breath. Red bubbles form at his mouth in a soft foam. The color matches the life spilling from him, soaking the tiles with his final judgment for the crimes he has committed. Crimes that have colored the hall with the same shade of red as he now does.

  Lawless walks to the dying man he once thought of as the Father he never had. A Father that supported him when his father had hurt him. A Father that had taught him how to stand up for himself when his father had beat him down. Their bond was iron-clad with the many private moments they have built between them. Their eyes lock one final time as they exchange the knowledge of what is about to happen.

  “My boy. So proud of my boy.” J.D. tells him, as Lawless puts the final bullet into his head.

  All of this time, we have been fighting to keep this place safe from the monsters outside that may harm us. We believed that they lurked with glazed eyes waiting for us around shielded corners of the dark. I hear Truth laughing again, as I realize, the monster was with us all along. It is not the Risen that have destroyed this safe haven, but J.D. The guilt and betrayal flows through me, turning my body into a pain-racked casing of torment, and even as I hate him for what he has done, I weep for the man I have come to love and depend on.

  “Do you know what today is?” The soft whispering sound of Aimes’ voice draws the attention of everyone. “It’s Christmas.”

  She falls like a marionette with its strings cut, exposing a red flower blooming on her chest.

  “No,nonono.” Rhett screams with each inch that she falls. He runs to her, pulling her limp body to him, rocking her in his arms as her eyes close against the world.

  J.D. fired twice when he was shot. The first shot found his target, hitting Shelia as his goal was set. His second shot went unknown with his death and found another target just as precious. Now that target lies in Rhett’s arms as he screams his frustration into her hair with the full force of his lungs. In a sick joke, the Fates gave us back Lawless, but want to take our pixie. Chapel is screaming for help, as he presses against Aimes’ wound with Rhett still rocking her.

  The world slows for me as the sun rises on this Christmas morning. There are no sleepy-eyed children creeping from warm beds to see if Santa has come. No cookies and milk to be inspected for its consumption. There are no brightly wrapped packages for them to open, just the red, red blood of so many spilled, decorating the halls like the Devil’s ball. There is no naughty or nice list, just the list of the living and the dead. That list causes the voices from the halls to lift up, not in songs of the season, but in screams of misery.

  Dawn does not wait today anymore than it has any other morning since that first day that the dawn watched it all start. It comes with the same blinding cruelty, disguised under soft pastel shades marking another day we must live through. It always comes, forcing us to accept that another morning is here with no degree of tragedy to spare us from the bright beams of the sun.

  This is our dawning. This is our new world and the lessons that it teaches us each day. A world filled with monsters that walk and wait for us in dual forms. With every strike of the second hand, Death dances with Truth in a courtship of suffering only they can inspire.

  They are reminding us of their power over us, as another dies under the hands of one that refuses to accept it. Even as they fight to keep the life-giving blood inside, it spills out from the body that once contained it. Its red refusal is a final sacrifice to the many Demons that now rule the earth where God and his Angels once stood watch.

  Epilogue

  A gate rattles against its metal clasp with fingers searching to understand the cause of the barrier that is blocking its entrance to the music that floats in the air. Translucent eyes follow the length of the metal wiring looking for a clue to its operation. Its fingers slide along the diamond shapes looking for a gap, or a break in its pattern, to reach through.

  The gate gives its secrets away under the examination, unable to keep them hidden forever, and the hand slides between the two metal poles finding a new pattern. It feels along the two poles with its mind racing to put the puzzle together. This piece rocks against pressure applied to it, sliding along the other metal pole and a faint memory comes forward.

  Before long, the eyes find the logic that has been escaping it. Pulling upon this new piece lifts it up, freeing it from its holding. The barrier still does not move for it and it voices sounds of frustration over the failure as it tries again to solve the puzzle.

 
The barrier does shift now, where as before it was a constant force blocking it. The eyes watch as different focal points of pressure affect the movement of the barrier. Gripping the metal tightly, it pulls it sideways instead of pressing upon it, and is rewarded with the sound of movement.

  Growing more confident with the logic, it walks down the length of the barrier, pulling the metal shapes with it, watching with grinning satisfaction as the barrier moves with moans of betrayal. The music that draws it here is no longer blocked. The barrier is removed, and it smiles with the victory, as screaming pitches of a melody lure it into a newly discovered area.

  It is not alone. It is joined by others like it. Others that have followed with the same curiosity as to what they are hearing. Others that are hungry and have run out of prey to feed them. The new area fills with their many forms, as they creep, silently into the darkness before them with one shared purpose.