by Black, D. S.
“Jeez! What are you looking at?” Tasha said as a deep red blush touched her cheeks.
“I saw my sister in you. Around you. I found her dead. These monsters killed her.”
They went over to the bed and sat down, but not before closing the bedroom door. “I found her dead in her townhouse. She had been raped and stabbed to death. Before that, I had a strange experience. I felt a million or more ghosts around me. It was like I stepped out of this world for a minute, removed to another dimension or realm. I don't pretend to understand it, but I do feel as though not all the forces in the New World are dark.”
“Now I really do believe we are living in a Tolkienish world,” Tasha said with a shy and loving smile. “Maybe our valiant lovers are marching across stretches of dangerous fields and highways. Maybe our rescue is only days away.”
Mary Jane looked at her. “I'll be honest. I never read the books or saw the movies.”
They both laughed, and the mood lightened a little. They had no way of knowing their hopes were well placed. That Okona and Duras were scouting the stadium even as they spoke. And more help was on the way; moving swiftly out of Marlboro County was a Native American with an ancient soul, a former cop with beautiful red hair and pale skin, a man with a pink handkerchief around his neck, and with them they brought a small army of well-armed men, ready and willing to fight and die.
3
The girls hugged and said good night. Mary went and laid in the bed and stared up at the dark ceiling. She then jumped up onto her elbows with a fast jerk. “Who's there?” she whispered.
She heard something, she looked over at the door. Only the darkness of the concrete world showed through the cracks around the door. She laid back down; then lifted again and looked over at the dresser and saw a block of black shadow. She stared at it for a minute. Nothing; she laid back down, this time pulling the sheet over her head. She felt like a fucking child, it was just the stress of this insane situation. There is nothing in this room.
In the next adjoining room, a similar experience occurred to Tasha. While she tried to ignore it; to pass it out of mind as just her silly, girly imagination; she heard whispering; a soft, angry shrill of a whisper. She couldn't make out the words, but she was hearing words; she was sure of it. It was a different language. A strange language. She was reminded of Tolkien and the voices Frodo would hear when he put on the ring.
“Oh, fiddlesticks!” she said and then giggled. Sometimes the only response to fear is laughter. She stopped laughing when the whispers started moving towards her. She was sure of it now. The sounds came closer to her bed; they were going to get her. Consume her in every way; possess her and make her do horrible things. She jumped up, biting back a scream of pure panic and switched the bedside lamp on.
Nothing. She saw the furniture, but no evil shadows moving towards her; she laid back down and kept the light on.
4
When Mary awoke she saw the Colonel; he was naked, his member pointing towards the ceiling. Tasha was bent over the side of the bed, her arms crossing over Mary's covered ankles, completely nude except for her panties which the Colonel pulled to the side and shoved his hungry little monster in. That's the first thought that came to Mary's mind, as strange as that may have been; the first thing she thought of was that they'd lucked out and this bastard has a tiny little baby dick. Thank heaven and Moses. Thank God for small favors.
“Good morning, Professor,” Colonel Mullinax said. “I love a good morning fuck.” He forced himself into Tasha. Tasha bore this with as much stoicism as she could muster. She thought of the Star Trek character Tasha Yar, and the rape gangs. Tasha had she'd fled to the Federation to escape.
Here she was; in the hands of a ruthless rape gang. No Federation to help her. She nearly laughed.
“Jesus! Yes! You might be the brains of the outfit Mary, but Tash here is certainly the muscle!”
He went on for nearly an hour. Mary observed he clearly enjoyed making her watch him use the younger girl. He taunted her about their age difference many times. He seemed to think this demoralized Mary more than she already was, but Mary was quite certain nothing short of death itself could stop her now; she was going to survive, and that was all there was to it. No matter what, her and Tasha were going to make it out of this fucking dump; she smiled a big and sexy smile and aimed it right at the Colonel.
“I knew you'd start to like it! YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!” He pumped harder and harder against Tasha's petite body.
Mary kept smiling, then licking her lips; thinking how good it’s going to be to cut this motherfucker's goddamn balls off.
Colonel Mullinax 3
1
After the raping, former Horry County Policeman and wife murderer, Teddy “Badass” Mullinax (he gave himself the nickname) dressed himself in front of Mary and Tasha. He wore camouflage pants and a skin tight black shirt.
“Ladies. Come into my office as soon as you're dressed. There's been a change of plans.”
He walked out without bothering to hear if they responded or not. Women do as their told in the New World; and if they didn't? Well, there were always ways of dealing with willful bitches or bitches who didn't know how to keep their bodies in good shape. There was nothing more disgusting than an out of shape fat bitch. They had no place in the Militia's territory, that's for sure. He'd personally overseen the slaughter of many fatties during the early days of the Militia.
The Militia's leadership; from the Mountain King down to Colonel Mullinax, and on down to the Captains were all cops in the Old World; and by god they knew how to maintain order. No more pussy politicians or pansy ass groups like the ACLU stood in their way now; the world belonged to the Blue Gods, at least that's certainly the way Mullinax saw things.
The Mountain King seemed to see things slightly different, but overall the two world views weren’t far off from each other. The Mountain King may be endowed dark power, but he also knows the best men to call the shots are former police; men trained and bred to break skulls, shoot and ask questions later.
Of course, there had also been female cops; a loathsome collection of dikes Mullinax hated more than his fat dead wife. Like the lesbian cunt who sued the State to let her marry her butch lover, and were raising kids for Christ's sake! Lesbian, gay filth! Just another liberal bullshit policy.
But now...
…no more Black Lives Matter, no more ACLU, no more American Constitution, and no more cops with pussies. No sir, nature put things back the way they were supposed to have stayed and made sure there were plenty of the right cops left over to get the job done.
The Colonel made it into his office and sat down, propping his boots onto his desk. The glass office gave a view of the former football field far below where soldiers moved to and from getting breakfast and then their morning allotment of White Mist.
The Colonel reread the handwritten letter he received early this morning:
TO: My Beloved Colonel Mullinax
FROM: The Mountain King
Colonel,
I hope I find you in good health and good mind. It’s come to my attention you have stumbled upon a trained biologist. And, though she is a woman; her expertise is needed to study the Dead Zones. I'm ordering you to send her to me upon receipt of this letter. Make haste my good man; I'm ready to move with my plans.
Sincerely,
The Mountain King
PS: Please do send her young friend. I hear they are quite inseparable.
Mullinax laid the letter down and thought to himself. What are the King's plans? And why does he have to write and sound like a nineteenth-century general? Why does he have to have Tasha?
Damn him.
Sometimes the Colonel felt as though he could lead better than the Mountain King. He thought he should be in charge, but that wasn't the case and he wasn't a fool. The Mountain King did have a strange power; and with all the weird things happening in the world now, maybe that power was supernatural. Take the White Mist for example. Maybe it
was just a concoction the king's chemist put together, but there were strong rumors among some of the men coming out of the Upstate that there was something else to it all; some odd and dark spell added to the powder that made the men practically worship the Mountain King. And boy, did they? As though the king was a walking god; a god few had actually seen. But it made the men bat shit crazy too; made them in no condition to lead, only to follow. That's why the Mountain King was very strict on the drug-free nature of his leadership. Doing so made sure he had men who could lead and men that would follow without question.
So, if the king wanted Tasha, then that's what the king would get. Come to think of it, the Colonel was a bit worried his thoughts were being read by the Mountain King. Sometimes while he slept, he felt as though his mind was being probed. It was probably just paranoia, of course; this was after all, a rather stressful job.
Then again...
…either way, he'd do as commanded. He had a good life and wouldn't get greedy. He had five thousand men under his command, plenty of guns and ammunition, and all the women he could want. Other than the Mountain King himself, no one could oppose him, stop him from doing whatever he wanted.
2
“Girls! You’re going to stay with the Mountain King.” Tasha and Mary Jane stood in front of his desk. “It’s actually a real honor. Few have even seen his face.”
“It’s an honor we accept gracefully. Though I dread leaving your side.”
“Please! Spare me. I know what you're about, woman. You're a willful bitch who received way too much education in the Old World. The only thing I hate to see go is Tasha.” He stood and walked around the desk. He pulled Tasha against him; she flinched for a moment, then let him kiss her and fondle her. “Jesus! Yes, I'm gonna miss you, little girl.” He caressed her chin like she was his long-lost love. “I'll miss you. If he gets tired of you, I’ll make sure you are sent promptly back to me.”
She smiled, saying nothing.
“Just a little advice, girls.” He spoke like a lecturing father. “The Mountain King is an unusual man, to say the least. He can seem kind and gentle, but that can turn into the wrath of god without a moment's notice. Do what he says, or else no one will ever see you again.”
“We'll obey him as though he were God,” Mary Jane said.
The Colonel stepped up to Mary and slapped her. She fell from the brute force, whimpering a little. “That's a reminder of your place in the new order of things. Your knowledge of biology is keeping you alive and relatively comfortable. I don't like it. I don't trust you, and if I can sniff you out, the Mountain King certainly will. I doubt you'll live long under his guardianship, regardless of what you know or can do. He'll teach you where a woman's place is. Under the boot of a man!” He kicked her in the ribs.
“Take them away! Take them to the Mountain King!”
Mary was lifted by two large men and escorted away, followed by Tasha.
Kid Chaos 4
Larry was never at a huge risk for catching The Fever, because he had rarely left his basement lair. His mom and dad; however, had come home sweating with the Fever. Larry had kept a close eye on the development via the cable news and the internet. He’d watched with delight as Chaos took over the streets of the world. Panic, looting, killing, raping—it was his dreams finally realized. He felt a sort of disappointment that he had nothing to do with this turn of events, but nonetheless enjoyed the living hell out of it. He especially enjoyed it when the government had firebombed an entire nigger neighborhood down in North Charleston. He watched a live feed of it and couldn’t stop laughing.
He’d heard his parents come in and call his name. He also heard them coughing and hacking. He decided to lock the basement door and avoiding them; at least till he could think of what to do with them. There was no cure for what was overtaking the population, so he figured the worst-case scenario was he would wait till they turned into raving, hungry dead beasts from the safety of his basement sanctuary. Their house was a two story, fully solarized modern marvel. With the help of his mother’s credit card, he’d taken it a step further and turned the basement into a fully independent section from the rest of the home. The door leading down to the basement was replaced with a steel, concrete reinforced vault door that only opened via his voice, iris, or thumb. He could literally stay down here for years if necessary.
It took about three days for his parents to die. He thought this was a bit long since he’d seen live feeds of others turning in a matter of minutes, some even in seconds. Maybe it was their fancy diet that kept them alive a bit longer; he didn’t know, but he was sure as hell happy once it was over. He had heard two hard thumps and then the sound of his now dead parents rising up and moving around the house, moaning and jerking; looking for human flesh. He’d decided to lure them upstairs and lock them into their bedroom.
Why? He wasn’t quite sure, but he felt Chaos in his blood, guiding him, leading him to do it. So, he went with the flow.
When he was younger, his father had the strange idea that Larry might want to try out baseball and had bought him catchers equipment—chest protector, face helmet, shin guards, and an aluminum bat. Larry had resolutely refused to participate in such an absurd and pointless activity, but for reasons he never really knew, he had kept the equipment. Maybe he had a premonition of what was coming and somehow knew he would need it for a more appropriate purpose, such as keeping himself from being mauled by his dead parents as he led them up the stairs and into their bedroom.
He’d installed cameras throughout the house a while back. He had views of the kitchen, living room, and all the hallways. He waited till his mother and father were far from the basement door, and then put his eye near the iris reader.
The door hissed with hydraulics and the door slowly swung open. He had put on the catcher’s equipment and brought the aluminum baseball bat. He moved out of the basement and walked down a small corridor that led to the living room, where his hungry mother and father were bumping into the furniture. He was amazed at how white their eyes were. It was like a hot burning white fire. He’d seen it on the cams and on the live feeds, but it was something to marvel at this close. No one on the news could say what caused it, they didn’t know a damn thing. Chaos works in mysterious ways, Larry thought.
It didn’t take long for his parents to see him. They screamed a loud and distorted hungry growl and started his way. Larry had already moved over to the staircase and now stood on the first step. “Come on Mommy. Come on Daddy. Come eat up good ole Larry. No more tequila for you, eh Mother? No more legal smeagle bullshit for you, eh Daddy? Just warm Larry flesh. Now come and get it!” He’d studied the movements of the walkers on the live feeds and had determined they were clumsy enough for him to keep the advantage as long as it was only one or two of them he had to contend with. Once they got bunched up in a large horde, he’d noticed, along with the internet commentators, the zombies would seem to create a collective rage and become quite the threat.
His mom was the first to reach the steps, and instead of picking up her legs to climb she bumped her toes and ankles and fell face first as Larry quickly climbed up a few more steps to avoid her fall. He laughed hard behind his masked face and nearly fell backward himself but was able to steady himself via the shiny mahogany banister. He laughed even harder when his father bumped into his mother and fell onto his back, causing an audible crack in his spine when he connected with the edge of the steps.
“Come on, fuck wads! Come get Larry! Come on now!”
They slowly made their way up the stairs, Larry poking them with the bat. He enjoyed sticking the fat part of the bat into their burning white eyes. He couldn’t help but want to know what caused that white hellfire, but figured he’d probably never know. And did it matter anyway? Nope! Chaos works in mysterious ways remember? It's best to just go with the flow and be thankful he’s an Agent of Chaos instead of a hapless victim. At that point Larry had concluded Chaos wasn’t just an arbitrary term used to describe mayhem a
nd lawlessness. Chaos was a powerful entity, with moods, consciousness, and some unknown purpose and will. Chaos chose its agents like god might choose a prophet. The Prophets of Chaos didn’t get to choose their destiny any more than Jesus got to choose if He wanted to get nailed to a cross. Chaos controlled the world now. Chaos had always fought against Order.
He remembered watching the Katrina disaster. All those idiotic niggers walking through knee deep water carrying TV sets. Those poor niggers had no more choice to stop what they were doing than did a monkey throwing shit at a tree. Chaos controlled them, just like Chaos controlled his parents and the rest of the fucking world. Only the Agents were conscious of what was happening and even then, Agents of Chaos had no choice but to go with the flow.
Larry did his duty and guided his parents up the stairs and onto the second-floor hallway. Once they were up, his parents could move a lot faster and Larry knew he had to play this like a Spanish spic matador guiding a bull. His father pushed his mother out of the way and rushed at Larry. Larry held out his foot and let his dad trip and fall face first into the plush carpet. Larry then jumped onto his dead daddy’s back and then leaped for the bedroom door. He grabbed the brass handle and pushed it open. He stood slightly in the bedroom urging them to follow. He guided them in and rounded the bed; jumped on top, guided them to the side furthest from the door, then with the bed between them and the doorway, he jumped off the bed and rushed out of the room slamming the door behind him. The large English Oak easily withstood their clawing and growling. Larry had spent the rest of the evening eating chips and drinking soda at the foot of the door.