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A World Darkly (Wrath of the Old Gods Book 3)

Page 22

by John Triptych

The lights in the infirmary were brighter compared to the other cabins since the electricity wasn’t turned off there. Pablo Fuentes had been a nurse at University of Kansas Hospital for almost a decade, but was interned in Camp Purgatory because he was openly gay. He was checking off his medical logs when Julius and Tara walked through the door.

  Pablo stood up. “Can I help you guys?”

  Julius walked up to him and shook his hand. “Pablo, do you have a patient named Matt Olsen here?”

  Pablo looked at Tara for a minute until he realized that she was a girl. Then he turned and pointed to a bed at the far end of the room. “He’s over there. They brought him in over a month ago and he’s still recovering.”

  Julius nodded. “What happened to him?”

  “They beat him pretty badly when they brought him in here,” Pablo said softly. “Concussion, multiple arm and leg fractures. The poor guy can hardly move his hands, much less talk. I think he suffered a stroke a few weeks ago, so there’s also a possible intracranial injury. I have begged them to bring him to a proper facility since we don’t have any CT scanners or advanced medical equipment here, but my requests have been ignored.”

  Tara stood over the hospital bed. The man who was lying in it was partially in shadow, his head and arms covered in old bandages. She could smell the sweat, along with the pungent odor of stale antiseptics and urine. The man seemed to be awake as his one eye was moving back and forth along the edges of his eyelid. He looked like he was in very bad shape. Tara soon realized that it was indeed Matthew Olsen, her one-time neighbor in the trailer park in Phoenix. She didn’t know him very well but they always said hi every time they bumped into each other. His son Tyler was eight. Tyler was Timmy’s playmate and they were always running around the neighborhood together. Tara’s heart was now at full throttle. If there was anything she could do to help Mr. Olsen, she would.

  As she placed her hand on his arm, she instantly drew back when he let out a shriek. His eye stopped wandering around and locked onto her. Tara smiled a little and stayed silent, hoping that he would somehow recognize her.

  The words that came out of him were half formed. It was as if he knew what to say, but his mouth and his brain wasn’t working too well for him to say it properly. “T… ara?”

  Tara’s smile became bigger as she nodded excitedly. “Yes, it’s me, Mr. Olsen. How are you doing?”

  “No..t goo.”

  Tara looked down at the wooden floorboards. “I’m sorry. I tried to look for Mrs. Olsen in the other camp, but I couldn’t find her. I tried to look for Tyler but he wasn’t with the other kids there.”

  A single tear rolled down Matthew’s cheek as his eye began to rapidly shift back and forth. “Mel..sa, she…g- on, hey bea… he-r. Ead.”

  Tara bit her lip. She really didn’t want to bother him when he was in a state like this but she needed to know. “My daddy said you took my brother Timmy with you when you left Arizona, do you know where he is?”

  “Heey… too..kk, my… oy.”

  Tara frowned. “They took your boy? You mean they took Tyler away?”

  “Esss.”

  “Did they take Timmy too?”

  “Esss.”

  “Do you know who it was?”

  “Ouncil… he… ame.. e… sen.”

  Tara leaned closer. “Who?”

  “E… se-n.”

  Tara tried to figure out what he said but she couldn’t be sure. “Esen? Did you say Esen?”

  “Esss.”

  Julius walked over and stood beside her. “I think he’s saying Eason. It must be Charles Eason. He was the former assistant to the commandant of this camp.”

  Matthew lifted up a finger. “Esss. E… se-n.”

  Tara smiled as she lightly placed her hand on Matthew’s arm a second time before turning to look at Julius. “Where is this Charles Eason guy now?”

  “He left the camp about a few months ago,” Julius said. “Eason was a sadist, he used to beat people up for looking at him the wrong way. I think I remember that there was a commotion in the women’s camp when Eason ordered some of the younger children to be transferred out of it. A lot of women protested and I heard one of them died while trying to protect her kids. When the men over here heard about it, some of us tried to rush the guards. It was awful and half a dozen of us were killed, a few others were beaten so badly they ended up here.”

  Tara shook her head slowly. All this cruelty, it was madness. “What did he do with the younger kids?”

  Julius snorted. “That Eason was a talker and a braggart. I always heard him say that he wanted to grow his family and he needed to adopt more children. To instruct them to be proper Christians in the eyes of the Lord, he said. Since he was being transferred out of here, I guess he decided to take some of the kids in the other camp with him. I don’t know where he is now though.”

  Tara nodded. “I will find him and he will lead me to my brother. Now, I need you to organize everybody because you’re all going to escape from here.”

  Pablo walked up to them with a surprised look on his face. “Who exactly are you? How do you expect us to escape from here just like that?”

  “We checked out this whole area earlier today before I got in here,” Tara said. “There’s a barge that’s been tied up along a small pier just across from Sherman Avenue. You ought to be able to fit a lot of people on it to make the trip across the river and into Fed territory.”

  Julius crossed his arms. “That’s easier said than done. First of all, there are like eight guard towers, and that’s just on this camp. Each tower has at least two guards with automatic weapons. There’s also dog patrols moving along the outer walls. If we can somehow get past all that, there’s more guards that are sleeping in the houses nearby. Then after that, I heard there’s a whole army of tanks and those armored jeeps in Fort Leavenworth proper. So unless you got the Feds right behind you, I don’t think any of us are getting out of here in one piece anytime soon.”

  Tara had a blank expression. “I was able to get in here with no problem.”

  Pablo looked at her closely. “How did you get in here?”

  “By magic,” Tara said.

  Julius let out a deep sigh. “By magic. Oh great. Maybe you can cast a spell to make all these guards disappear too.”

  “I wanted to do it quietly,” Tara said. “Though Patrick wanted to do it his way. He said he wanted to teach the separatists a lesson. So we’re using his plan to get out. He'll deal with the guards so you can escape.”

  Pablo crossed his arms. “Who is this Patrick and what is his plan?”

  Tara took out a red and yellow colored tube from beneath her jacket. “Patrick is my friend and I already told you the plan. All I gotta do is fire off this flare and we’re on.”

  Julius held out his hand. “Wait a minute, so all we gotta do is just start running after that flare goes up in the air? Are you kidding me? How many is there of you?”

  “Just me, Patrick and my pet bird,” Tara said. “That raven who distracted those guards, he’s with me too.”

  Pablo was incredulous. “So it’s just you, one guy and a bird? Are you crazy or something? There’s about five thousand internees in the other camp and another eight thousand here.”

  Tara nodded confidently. “I know. All I’m saying is, you need to get organized and run as a group towards that barge. Just wait when all hell breaks loose. All you have to do is get everybody ready.”

  Julius took his glasses off and rubbed his tired eyes. “And if nothing happens? What then?”

  “Then you can all go back to sleep,” Tara said. “But can you please give me the benefit of the doubt?”

  Julius thought about it for a minute. He first thought the whole idea was nuts. Yet deep inside of him, he sensed that this teenage girl was telling the truth. She exuded a feeling of confidence. He knew that she wasn’t telling him everything. The fact that they somehow made it this far was a sign. Finally he nodded. “We’ve got nothing to lose anyway.
I set up a way where we can get the word out quickly, just relay it from cabin to cabin. You’ll need to give me about half an hour to get the word out. Once the fireworks or whatever it is you’ve got planned starts, we can start getting out of there, assuming that the fences go down somehow.”

  “Don’t worry, they will,” Tara said before turning to look at Pablo. “Can you get these patients out of here too?”

  Pablo pointed to Matthew. “Other than him I got another guy who can probably walk with some assistance. There’s an old wheelchair stashed in the back so I can take Mr. Olsen.”

  Tara nodded. “Okay then, go ahead and start spreading the word. I’ll stay here and I will fire off the flare in about half an hour.”

  In the dark woods surrounding the camp, the raven flew along the trees until it spotted something pale and manlike standing in the upper branches of a huge oak. The bird made a steep dive and fluttered its wings as it settled on a branch beside the creature.

  Patrick Gyle turned his head and looked at the bird, just as the animal began to preen itself. “Well, did she get into the camp?”

  “Yes, she did,” The raven said. “She nearly got caught by the camp guards but I was able to distract them enough.”

  “Okay then,” Gyle said as he looked out towards the outskirts of the camp. “I don’t think it’s going to be a problem taking out the guard towers and the fence on this side, but if they bring in reinforcements from their units stationed near the river, I will be hard pressed to take them all out while I’m protecting the escapees.”

  The raven looked up at the darkening sky above them. “Don’t worry, I have a friend coming over. He said he’s going to take care of the SOL units watching the river.”

  “Whoever this friend of yours is, I hope he comes packing,” Gyle said. “I counted three platoons of tanks, and at least two dozen Humvees and Bradleys for support. They’ve even got artillery pieces dug in near the airstrip. They are expecting an attack by the Feds from across the river so I hope he attacks from the west. Otherwise he might be in big trouble.”

  “Oh, I have a feeling it won’t be much a problem for him,” the raven said.

  “Once Tara pops that flare we all need to move,” Gyle said. “How long will it take your friend to get here?”

  The raven kept glancing at the clouds above them. Distant sounds of thunder could be heard nearby. “Oh, I think he’s already here.”

  Gyle was about to say something, but then a bright red flare appeared above the camp. It burned brightly in the sky, like a red beacon that signified a fight was about to start. Gyle crouched his legs to increase his strength, then made a mile high leap towards the guard towers. The raven flapped its wings and took off, just as the alarm began to sound.

  The guards in Tower Six never knew what hit them. Gyle landed feet first on the tower roof and collapsed it as he drove down into the base of the stilts. The tower crumpled into the ground as if it was made of matchsticks, taking out a wide swath of the surrounding chain link fence along with it. Gyle quickly leapt out to the next tower as if he was a flea. One of the guards saw him but the speed of his jump never gave his enemy time to react as he tore into them with his clawed hands. After he was done, Gyle leapt down onto the ground beside the tower and lifted it up as he tore its foundations from the ground. Gyle then swung the tower as if it was a pole as he started tearing the rest of the fence down.

  A military dog patrol with two German Shepherds and their handlers chanced upon him. Instead of attacking, the two dogs began yelping in sheer terror and ran away, their leashes dangling behind them as the two terrified soldiers tried to bring their weapons to bear. Gyle shredded them both before they could aim their rifles.

  Tara began to direct the fleeing prisoners as hundreds started to run past the torn down fences. Julius and the others began to lead them as they ran past the tombstones of the cemetery and towards the abandoned golf course. The ones who were too infirm to run were carried by the others as they continued to flee towards where the barge was.

  Gyle was constantly leaping from one end of the camp to the other as he continued to kill any of the guards who attempted to stop the escape. He ignored the ones who put down their weapons and ran away. Within ten minutes, most of the guards in the camp were dead and the prisoners were halfway towards the river bank. As he leaped ahead of them to clear any resistance, Gyle noticed several Humvees making their way south towards them. What happened next surprised even him.

  From out of the sky came a gigantic, monstrous black bird. It was the size of a small building. Every time it flapped its wings it generated a thunderous shockwave that staggered Gyle, even though he was several hundred feet away. When the thunderbird opened its colossal beak, a forked bolt of lightning emanated from it and struck several of the vehicles that had been dispatched to the area. Two M-1 Abrams battle tanks were hit by the direct force of the lightning bolt and both vehicles instantly exploded, their own ordinance detonating after being exposed to the superheated sheets of plasma. Within less than a minute, an entire platoon of tanks was completely destroyed. Two SOL helicopters that tried to take off from the airfield were sent crashing back onto the tarmac, their main rotors shredded by monster-like claws.

  The SOL forces in Fort Leavenworth were caught completely by surprise. Many of them dropped their weapons and ran for cover as soon as they saw the thunderbird up above them. The others that tried any sort of resistance were quickly crushed.

  As the escapees began to board the barge, they could see the Federal troops waving at them on the other side. Most of them made it past the river and were safely in US government territory a few hours later.

  Back in Wichita, Dave Reeder glanced nervously as the intel reports of the debacle that had occurred in Fort Leavenworth began to filter through the network. As he started reading through the details, the descriptions of a pale creature with supernatural strength made him shudder. It had described something that he had been suppressing when his superiors interrogated him after they found a hole in the building’s roof less than a week ago. He told them that he didn’t see anything. He had blacked out, just like that security officer who had been found unconscious lying next to him.

  “Hi,” a voice behind him said.

  Dave’s eyes went wide as his mouth hung open. He knew it was them again. He turned around slowly as he swiveled the office chair.

  Standing at the doorway was Tara and Gyle.

  “Sorry, but I need to use your network again,” Tara said. “Can you locate a Mr. Charles Eason for me?”

  Dave just sat there as he promptly wet himself for the second time that week.

  15. The Guilty Ones

  Otherworld

  Valerie Mendoza sat at the bow of the boat as she continued to stare into the murky waters that surrounded them. Not long after they reached the riverbank, a small wooden boat had approached them. It looked like a rowboat made out of gnarled, rotting bark. A being stood at the back while it guided the boat using a long wooden pole. It was a man and looked very similar to the wanderer, with his unkempt beard and tattered black cloak. For a brief moment Valerie almost thought they were identical twins. The wanderer produced a silver coin from the folds of his cloak and offered it to the ferryman just as the boat touched the shore. Soon enough, they were helped onboard and were now travelling slowly across the calm, dark waters. Time had seemed to pass, but Valerie was unsure since the river drifted endlessly onwards as the distant mists obscured the surrounding lands.

  She turned and took a look at the old man who was sitting behind her. “The ferryman, is that Charon, the boatman who travels the underworld?”

  The wanderer shrugged. “He goes by many names. Though your description is correct, so I must assume that you are right.”

  “Where is he taking us now?”

  The old man looked out into the fog shrouded horizon. It was not quite daytime, but it wasn’t night either. It seemed like a perpetual, grey twilight. “This river travels and
branches out in multiple tributaries, it is probably the best way to travel the wastes.”

  “Where did you get the coin to pay Charon with?”

  The old man smiled slightly. “Oh, one does find coins and other things every now and then. Sometimes these things just get washed up on the shores since the ferryman throws them over the side once his service is done. He really doesn’t have much use for coins or other riches, you know.”

  Valerie stared past the old man and looked at Charon. “He seems to look just like you. You’re not brothers or anything?”

  The old man giggled a bit. “Once you’ve been here long enough, everybody starts to look the same. The people that you see are nothing more than mirrors to your mind’s eye. You may recognize a few souls here that you may have met in your previous life, but it may very well be your mind that projects an image of someone that you want to know.”

  “So all the people here might be someone else, depending on who is looking at them?”

  The wanderer nodded. “Correct. Many have drunk the waters of Lethe, the river of forgetfulness. They lose all memories of their past lives, but there is a spark in them that retains some sort of primordial essence, a small piece of themselves that remembers what they have done to deserve eternal punishment. It is what motivates them to relive their own suffering as they are constantly killed and then resurrected in order to renew the cycle.”

  Valerie looked away. “This is all just so insane. I worked for the police when I was back on earth. I enforced the law. I brought criminals to trial and then the judges mete out their sentencing. But it’s nothing like the masochism that dominates this place. Every single punishment here is totally cruel and unusual. That would be against the very laws I swore to uphold.”

  “You are correct,” the old man said. “The endless punishments here are worse than anything beyond imagining. Perhaps there is a purpose to all of this.”

  Valerie frowned. “You said it yourself. A punishment cannot be endless or else it really serves no purpose other than continuous torture. Where’s the purpose in that?”

 

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