With the shotgun clasped tightly in his hands, Cooper Wyse jumped down from the steps of the church and began running directly toward the seekers. The distance between them and him was no more than a hundred yards. The rancher’s mind quickly noted there were nine of the creatures left.
Three seekers ran ahead of the others, their clawed hands and feet digging into the dirt beneath them, propelling them forward as they howled in anticipation of the impending kill. Cooper quickly dropped to his left knee, took a deep breath, and pointed the shotgun at the seeker who ran between the other two. He knew the timing was critical, needing to allow a great enough distance that the shotgun blast would hit all three seekers, while also close enough to ensure they were hit with enough force to actually kill them.
Cooper took another breath, estimated the distance to be no more than thirty yards, and fired.
The middle seeker crumbled to the ground, rolling end over end before stopping completely. The creature on the right cried out as its right shoulder exploded in a shower of bone and blood, causing it to slow considerably. The last seeker on the left appeared unharmed, its mouth opening wider as it bore down on the still kneeling Cooper Wyse.
The rancher gripped the barrel of the shotgun and swung it around him like a baseball bat, smashing the butt of the gun into the forehead of the seeker, crunching fragments of skull that imbedded into the creature’s brain. The seeker’s momentum still carried the beast into Cooper, causing him to fall onto his back as the seeker’s body covered his chest.
Cooper’s right leg screamed in pain as another seeker’s mouth bit into it. The rancher fired one of his revolvers, shooting a large hole through the creature’s neck, causing the beast to bleed out in seconds. Cooper rolled to his side and onto his knees, his eyes scanning where the next attack would come from, both hands gripping his beloved Colt revolvers.
Another seeker hit the rancher from behind, its jaws clamping down onto his right shoulder blade, its teeth scraping against bone. Cooper Wyse made no sound as he rose to his feet with the seeker still biting into his back, the thing’s clawed hands and feet wrapping around him, digging into his flesh.
Two more seekers approached from the front, certain the rancher was now defeated. Cooper took aim, a revolver pointed at each of them, and simultaneously fired off two rounds. Both shots found their mark, ripping through the right eyes of both seekers, killing them instantly.
That left two seekers remaining – the one still clamped onto Cooper’s back, and the other with the injured shoulder that had survived the shotgun blast.
Cooper aimed both revolvers over his shoulder and fired. The gun in his left hand shot wide past the seeker’s body. The other revolver’s bullet skimmed the back of the seeker’s skull, leaving a quarter inch groove along its path. Despite the wound, the seeker maintained its bite on Cooper’s shoulder, its claws digging even deeper into the rancher’s body. Cooper could feel himself losing consciousness.
“You killed my dog!”
Cooper Wyse screamed the words as he fired two more shots over his shoulder. Both bullets ripped into the seeker’s body, tearing flesh, ripping through a lung, and severing the spine. The creature fell from the rancher’s back, leaving Cooper staring into the eyes of the final seeker. It was especially large, and unknown to Cooper, had been the first of the seekers to arrive at his ranch when the journey to Churchill had just begun.
The creature’s injured shoulder caused its right arm to drag slightly behind its body as it slowly crept toward the rancher. Cooper, sensing his body rapidly weakening from the multiple wounds the other seekers had already inflicted on him, fought to keep his focus on the remaining seeker, though his vision began to fade as he struggled to hold both revolvers out in front of him.
“Come on then, you ugly bastard, let’s see what you got.”
The seeker issued a low, whining growl at Cooper, its head lifting up as it sniffed the air. Cooper noted how the creature acted more intelligent than the others of its kind, perhaps sensing he still held loaded weapons in his hands, while also possibly sensing how close to passing out Cooper Wyse was.
The seeker, wary of being shot again, intended to wait it out, circling slowly around the human. The seeker’s patience was soon rewarded as Cooper fell to his knees, and then tipped over onto his left side, his hands releasing their grip on the revolvers.
“Sorry, Brando, didn’t quite finish the job for you buddy.”
With the side of his head compressed against the cold Manitoba ground, Cooper could see the bottom half of the seeker making its way slowly toward him, still showing caution, but growing more excited second by second as it became convinced its prey was now helpless. Finally it let out a triumphant shriek as it bounded into the air, its jaws spread wide in preparation of clamping down onto Cooper Wyse’s face.
God, just make it fast – and don’t give that thing the satisfaction of hearing me scream.
Cooper smiled as he thought of seeing his wife Arlene and their children again. Sometimes, back at the ranch, he would feel Arlene’s presence as he rode Licorice across the vast fields of the property. Some days it was a particularly warm and comforting breeze, while other days it might be a whisper from just behind his saddle. During those moments he would simply smile and send her a thought that he would be with her again soon.
It appeared that time had now arrived for Cooper Wyse.
LIV.
The bear’s massive clawed paw pummeled the seeker as it attempted to leap at Cooper. Just twenty minutes earlier, the seekers had come upon the mother polar bear’s young cub, a cub that had become separated from its mother as she foraged several hundred yards away for food along the shores of Hudson Bay. The seekers, already starving from their journey across the former Canadian provinces, cornered the bear cub and attacked it, hoping to make it an easy meal.
The cub’s panicked cries reached the ears of its mothers, sending her bounding across the frozen ground with an incredible amount of speed for something so large. The bear came upon the seekers as several of the creatures were biting into her bear cub, attempting to rip it apart.
The mother bear dove into the group of seekers, her jaws clamping down over the head of one as her claws ripped apart another. The seekers scattered momentarily, but soon regrouped as the largest among them howled and hissed back at the bear. From a distance, the shrieking call of the seeker that was then preparing to plunge through the church window reached the ears of its fellow seekers, causing the group to turn and run in the direction of the call.
The polar bear cub had been gravely injured, its white fur covered in its own blood. Its mother nudged its dying body, licking the many wounds and crying for her child to begin breathing again. The cub lay motionless on the icy ground, as the mother bear inhaled the smell of the seekers that covered the bear cub. Her sadness quickly turned to fury as she raised her great head and unleashed an enraged roar into the sky above her, before turning to follow the trail of the departed seekers.
It was that mother bear that now grasped the body of the last remaining seeker between her massive jaws and threw the monster into the air, then plunged herself forward to land on top of it, pinning the creature’s body underneath her incredibly powerful front paws.
Still the seeker fought back, grasping underneath the great bear’s neck, attempting to dig its talons into its flesh. The polar bear’s head lunged forward, its jaws snapping over the front of the seeker’s face, ripping the flesh from its forehead.
Cooper Wyse watched the battle in stunned amazement, knowing that his life had just been saved by a bear that might likely kill him as soon as it finished with the seeker.
Maybe you should get moving then, cowboy.
Cooper grinned when he heard the familiar voice – the voice of Arlene.
Stop grinning like an idiot. Get up, Cooper. Get up and move - NOW.
Cooper Wyse rolled onto his stomach and attempted to push himself up onto his knees. His arms buckled beneath hi
m, sending his face crashing back onto the ground.
Cooper, I don’t want to see you yet. You have a lot more to do in this life. People you haven’t even met before are going to need you very much. A whole lot of people, so you stand up and walk. If you ever loved me, Cooper Wyse, you’ll get up right now.
The rancher wasn’t sure how it happened, but one moment he was lying on the ground, and his next memory was of him standing on his feet and looking back at the polar bear as it continued to rip apart the seeker. Cooper began to walk slowly toward the church, concentrating on simply moving one foot in front of the other.
He saw Yakov running toward him, but then the Russian suddenly stopped and was shouting at Cooper to stop moving, a request Cooper found odd. Why in the hell would he want me to stop moving? If he did that, he might just find himself on the ground again without the strength to get back up.
“Don’t move, cowboy! Stay very still! You have one pissed off big bear looking at you!”
Cooper slowly turned around and looked up to see the polar bear staring back at him, no more than ten feet away. The blood of the seeker covered its snout and paws. The mother bear inhaled deeply the air around her, taking in the rancher’s scent. For nearly a minute the bear and Cooper Wyse stared back at one another, their breath forming small clouds of moisture between them.
Finally the mother bear shook her head from side to side several times and then turned and walked back toward her dead cub. Cooper felt his legs grow weak beneath him, but before he fell, was grasped by the strong arms of the Russian, who allowed the rancher to lean heavily against him for support as they made their way back toward the church.
“Bear whispering cowboy! Would not believe it if Yakov had not seen it with his own eyes!”
Cooper chuckled softly at the Russian’s enthusiastic description.
“That’s me, Yakov. Just your typical, everyday bear whisperer.”
Just before reaching the steps of the church, Cooper Wyse passed out. The Russian, feeling the rancher’s body go limp as he lifted Cooper over his shoulder, grunted a single word reaction.
“Pussy.”
LV.
Three Days Later…
Mac Walker lay in a makeshift bed looking out a small window inside Father Riel’s church. He had been put there late yesterday after falling from a chair and finding himself unable to get back up. His body was shutting down.
The pain in his lower back came and went with increasing regularity, and his lungs no longer breathed so much as wheezed diminishing amounts of air through his mouth. Mac was grateful to have still been on his feet when the group had gathered around the priest’s short wave radio to listen to the initial reports of drones falling from the skies all across the former United States.
Within an hour of those first reports, Mac was contacted directly by Royce Calhoun, leader of the Texas Resistance. The emotion in Calhoun’s voice was evident as he described how hundreds of thousands of Texans had come out of hiding once the threat of the drones had been removed. A human wave swept across the American states, pushing out the quickly fracturing remnants of the New United Nations. Wherever a globalist flag once stood, it was replaced by the flag of America.
Calhoun also shared how even the massive structure of the New United Nations building in New York was overrun by people once again demanding their freedom. A group climbed the thousands of steps to the very top of the structure where it had long been rumored the private residence of the Great Consulate could be found. Inside that residence, so the story went, they found a small room which contained the dead body of a horribly disfigured creature. It appeared the beast had been strapped to the floor of the room with a series of wire straps. The thing had eventually cut through its own arms and legs to gain its freedom, though then likely bled out soon after. Clenched between the beast’s teeth was a pair of metallic glasses that appeared to be some kind of transmitting device. Initially, no sign of the Great Consulate was found.
Weeks later, the recorded contents of that transmitter were unlocked, and the final moments of the former Great Consulate’s life were discovered. He had sat directly across from the creature, poking at it repeatedly before the monster finally lunged at him, its limbs ripping through the wire constraints as its incredibly large mouth clamped down over the Great Consulate’s throat. The most horrific part of the footage though, was the viewpoint the glasses provided of the attack. The Great Consulate was able to watch himself, through the eyes of the creature, be eaten alive. Even more disturbing was that the audio of the footage left no doubt that the Great Consulate found the experience to be intensely pleasurable.
“Mac, you did it – all of you. That virus ripped right through the entire system. Their vehicles were dead, their defense systems no longer functioning. The entire power grid crashed. There’s been some rioting in places, and I’m sure some New United Nations personnel have been dragged from their offices and, well, there’s gonna be some ugliness. A whole lot of people have a whole lot of pent up frustration. Overall though, it’s been the start of a relatively smooth transition. When people looked up and didn’t see a drone coming at them, they re-discovered their courage. They started to remember what they had given up. We really are taking this country back. God bless you, Mac. God bless all of you.”
The former defender of Dominatus sat silently for some time after receiving Calhoun’s message, unable to put into words the joy and pride he felt in knowing he and his friends helped to free so many from the tyranny and evil they had been living under for so long.
Even as he lay in bed, feeling the life steadily moving out from his body, it was that joy that sustained Mac during the pain and discomfort of his impending death. It gave him both comfort and relief, knowing his was a life lived, rather than a life wasted.
Father Riel sat next to Mac and asked if he would be willing to receive last rites. Mac rolled his eyes at the priest, chuckling at the request. His voice replied in a croaking whisper.
“You are one tenacious priest, aren’t you?”
Father Riel smiled down at Mac, taking the dying man’s hands into his own.
“The choice is yours, Mac, but I do believe it may provide some comfort to those you care about, those who will remain after you are gone, that your soul was at peace, that you were right when your moment came.”
Mac smiled at the priest’s words, realizing how similar they sounded to those spoken to him by the Old Man during a recent dream.
“I’m not a Catholic, Father.”
‘That is fine, Mac. The church has long allowed a certain degree of discretion with such things. If it is the wish of the dying to be given ministration, we are duty bound to do so.”
Mac closed his eyes again as the pain in his back and hips once again took hold. Normally the pain subsided after a few seconds, but this time it persisted much longer, causing Mac to cry out softly. Father Riel’s hands remained clasped around Mac’s.
“It’s ok, Mac, I’m here with you.”
Finally the pain began to fade, allowing Mac to open his eyes again.
“You think it’ll make this easier for the others? For Dublin? She buried her grandfather just two years ago and now she has to watch me like this. I…I feel guilty about that.”
“I do believe it will help her to more easily accept your passing, Mac. Her and the others, yes.”
Mac closed his eyes again, considering the priest’s request to administer to him the last rites.
“Ok, Father. Go ahead. If you think it will help the others…go ahead.”
Later that afternoon, as the sunlight began to fade toward impending darkness, after drifting in and out of sleep for several hours, Mac Walker awoke to find Dublin’s hand holding his own. He was reminded again that the girl he had protected for so many years had grown into a beautiful, strong, and intelligent woman.
“I love you, Mac.”
Mac attempted to respond with words, but found the effort to speak too great. He could simply look b
ack at Dublin and nod.
Father Riel sat next to Dublin, his low voice soothing and relaxed.
“You are surrounded in love, Mac. Reese and Bear are here, as well as Cooper, Yakov, and Khalid. We are all here with you in this, just as God has always been with you, Mac. Always and forever.”
Mac nodded his head as tears slowly traced faint lines of moisture down his cheeks. He heard Dublin begin to cry quietly next to him, and fought to try and comfort her, but again, found himself too weak to do anything more than close his eyes and focus on taking another breath as the priest’s words continued.
“Mac, your suffering is but temporary. In suffering, you are now joined in God’s everlasting peace and Christ’s great mercy. You are absolved of all sin and welcomed into the kingdom of heaven. I commend you, Mac, to almighty God. We deliver your faithful servant, Mackenzie Walker, to you now, Lord. Receive him. Remove his suffering from him. May he find the one Truth, and know everlasting life. Amen.”
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