Legend of Mace

by Daniel J. Williams

  The other biker laughed a little louder as the two Crockett had targeted came scurrying back. “Not so loud, Dirtbag, you want to give us away?”

  Crockett looked up at the biker with rotten teeth. With night-vision goggles still strapped to his face, the biker appeared big, ugly, and green. Dirtbag’s teeth and jaw were in constant movement. “Your name’s really Dirtbag?” Crockett asked sarcastically. “Funny, it fits you, although I think ugly motherfucker would have been better.”

  Dirtbag looked at him hard for a second before he couldn’t help himself and chuckled. His friends all broke out with laughter. “You got balls, kid, I’ll give you that,” Dirtbag responded.

  Crockett smiled as he looked from Dirtbag to the others. Their guards were momentarily down. He tried to think of how Mace would handle the situation.

  Dirtbag placed a hand on Crockett’s shoulder and leaned in. “I don’t think you’ll be smiling when my dick is up your ass.”

  Crockett didn’t flinch. “I'll bet I take shits bigger and harder than your dick. I'm not expecting much." He nonchalantly reached down and gripped his handgun as it rested in its hip holster.

  Dirtbag’s friends burst out louder with laughter as Dirtbag shook his head, irritated at the jab. Inside the compound, Bailey and another Ranger looked at each other strangely as they guarded the wall. They heard laughter coming from somewhere out in the darkness. Their goggles couldn’t pick up any movement.

  “Enough already,” Dirtbag responded, growing tired of the kid’s mouth. “Take off the goggles and hand them over.”

  “I don’t think so,” Crockett said. He'd die before he'd help them in any way. “You know what the funniest part of this is?” Crockett asked Dirtbag as the other bikers leaned in to hear what else he would say. “The fact that you’re all so stupid you haven’t figured out you’re dead yet.”

  Dirtbag looked confused for a second before Crockett brought the gun swiftly up and placed it under Dirtbag’s chin. He pulled the trigger and Dirtbag’s head shot back as Crockett swung the gun around and popped a shot into the next closest one’s chest. He took off at a sprint into the darkness, cutting a sharp left as the remaining bikers fired wildly into the dark. With the goggles on, he could see the ground clearly in front of him.

  Scanning the area outside the wall on Crockett’s side, Bailey couldn’t help himself and tapped the Ranger next to him before announcing over the radio, “We’re heading out, cover us!” Jumping over the wall with their sniper rifles, they stayed low as they sprinted towards the source of gunfire. As they raced towards the gunplay, they suddenly spotted the two bikers with their backs turned, firing wildly into the darkness. Bailey stopped his friend with a hand to the chest and they both lifted their rifles and placed perfect head shots.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY THREE

  The last quartet of bikers crouched behind a debris pile, scanning the front entrance for movement. Both Roger and Woody picked them up with their sniper rifles from different vantage points.

  Roger lifted the Walkie-Talkie carefully, not taking his eye off the target. “I’ll take the two on the right,” he said to Woody. “Let’s just wait until they make a move.”

  “Not necessary,” Woody said. “Watch closely.” He grinned to himself.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just watch.”

  Positioned outside the gates, Woody turned on the remote for a medium-sized, black, remote-controlled 4 x 4 toy truck. Watching it through his night-vision, he rolled it outside its protective cover and directly towards the debris-pile. Attached to its truck bed was a small IED. It was Travis’ favorite truck, and one he'd presented to Woody as a gift.

  “What the hell is that thing?” Roger asked as he spotted the truck slowly ambling towards the intruders.

  “A rolling bomb,” Woody answered, pleased with himself as he maneuvered the truck right up to the debris pile.

  On the other side of the pile, one of the bikers whispered, “Shhh, did you hear that?” right before the truck rolled to a stop.

  A second later Woody flipped a switch and a red light appeared on the face of the bomb.

  “Hear what?” another biker asked.

  Positioning his thumb over the trigger, Woody whispered, “Boom,” as he pressed the button. The truck exploded.

  The bikers jumped up in surprise as the small blast shot shrapnel all around. Woody deliberately placed the truck where it wouldn’t kill or maim. After what they'd done to Jim and Yvette, he wanted to take these guys out himself.

  Roger picked off the two on the right as Woody put the remote down and lined the other two up in his scope. They looked stunned as Woody placed two shots each into their chests.

  “We’ve got two more flares,” Razor said furiously to his comrade from behind a debris pile. His jaw worked furiously as he continued. “We’ve got to get inside that camp.”

  The other biker looked at him like he was crazy. “What are you talking about? We’ve got to get the hell out of here! They’ve got night vision! They just killed Weasel and Two Dog Joe. Hell, they just killed everyone!”

  Razor stared back, his right eye twitching rapidly. “When I throw this flare, we’re going to run for the back wall. We’ll go in firing.”

  “What? Are you fucking high?”

  “Yeah, I’m fucking high! That was the whole idea. We’re supersonic, man.” Razor’s heart pounded against his chest. “Trust me, Boonie, we’ll be feasting on pussy tonight. We’ll toss out a flare and sprint towards the back wall. Halfway there we’ll throw the other one. Once we…”

  Razor saw a flash of something a split-second before Boonie’s head suddenly toppled off his shoulders. Mace pushed Boonie's headless torso directly into Razor, who let out a high-pitched squeal as the act caught him by complete surprise. Before he could even react, Mace threw the body aside and clutched Razor tight around his throat.

  “It’s over you fucking pyscho,” Mace growled in his face. Razor’s eyes looked wild as his hands scrambled for his gun. Mace pressed his knee into Razor's body as he pushed him to the ground, then drove his hunting knife through Razor’s palm.

  Razor tried to scream but Mace’s grip kept anything but a squeak from escaping. “Your worthless bunch of losers just got taken out by a bunch of kids. You’re about to die like the fucking asshole you are.” Razor’s eyes darted around frantically as Mace ripped the night binoculars off his own face with his free hand. Pulling up one of Razor’s flares, Mace stuck the cap in his mouth and yanked it off.

  From behind Mace, Crockett, Bailey and Walker, the other Ranger, appeared, unbeknownst to Mace. They took off their goggles and watched as Mace struck the flare against the ground, lighting it. “Suck on this,” Mace said roughly as he shoved the lit end against Razor’s mouth. Razor tried to keep his mouth shut, but as the flare blazed against his face his lips burned and melted off. Mace smiled wickedly as Razor finally opened his mouth in a scream. Mace shoved the flare through the opening and Razor’s whole body lurched as Mace held him down. As Razor thrashed around, Mace shoved the flare up against the roof of his mouth, burning through it. Smoke poured out Razor's nose and eyes as he convulsed wildly and his eyeballs started to melt. Mace stared closely at his face, an intense feeling of satisfaction coming over him as Razor's body suddenly went limp.

  “Holy shit,” Crockett said from behind him.

  Mace turned, acknowledging their presence for the first time. The murderous rage on his face made them take a step back in alarm. Guilt washed over him as he looked at the shocked looks on the boys faces. With his darkness fully exposed, he realized how much control it had over him. He turned away from them, trying to hide his appearance.

  As the boys backed away, Father McCann's voice unexpectedly whispered in his ear. "You were meant to be a Savior." Flashing back to the rectory in San Francisco, Mace saw a clear picture of that moment when they were descending the stairs and his mentor, certain in his assessment of their mission and Mace's role, declared it
as Truth.

  As his mind reeled, it suddenly happened. The light he so desperately wanted to experience came over him again. For a split second, he was filled with its utter brilliance. Being illuminated from within, though, did not fill him with peace. What he experienced completely horrified him. His soul, dark and twisted, became fully revealed.

  A sob erupted from within him. Utterly shocked by what he was experiencing, he cried out in revulsion. "No," he sobbed as real feelings came over him. "I couldn't control it," he pleaded. "It was too strong." Inside the light, there were no answers, no consolation, no peace. Just as suddenly as it came, it disappeared.

  Completely shaken, he asked, "What is it you want from me?" Inside his mind he tried to put it all together. He couldn't. He felt hopelessly lost.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY FOUR

  As the camp celebrated the end of the biker threat, their jubilation was bittersweet. They'd lost six of their own. Gathering everyone together, Roger lit a bonfire in the center of their training center. Calling out the names of each of the deceased, he bowed his head, encouraging everyone to do the same. "Miles, Dolphin, Bowie, Tom, Jim, Yvette," he declared solemnly. "You gave your lives to keep this camp safe. You are heroes to all of us, and we honor you. We shall carry on in your memory and you will not be forgotten."

  Noticeably absent, Mace stood back in the shadows, watching the procession, taking it all in. "I was meant to be a Savior," he repeated bitterly to himself as his gut twisted further. "A savior and a protector." Thinking of the six they'd lost, he uttered, "I've failed at both." Jim and Yvette, with them since the very beginning, were like family to him. They'd survived everything together.

  "How can I save anyone when I can't even save myself?" he whispered quietly to himself. Mace's mind spun as he thought about all the cruel and murderous acts he'd committed. He'd done them to protect the camp, to protect all of them, but it changed him in the process.

  Would they still be alive if he hadn't become infected? What would have happened if he hadn't fully embraced the darkness, especially in the face of the Plaguer and biker threats? He couldn't understand any of it. His confusion ran deeper.

  Pacing distractedly, Mace felt unable to free himself from his fog. Avoiding everyone, he stopped by the hospital to check in on Lisa. Feeling a great need to speak with her, he entered silently. With his boys now back with Jade, the clinic was empty except for Melissa. Melissa greeted him as soon as he walked in.

  "Hi Mace." Looking him over, it was obvious something was wrong. "Are you okay?" she asked as she moved towards him.

  Mace couldn't make eye contact with her. Not yet. He needed to get everything clear. "Could I speak with Lisa for a moment alone?" he asked.

  "Of course," she answered, a bit concerned by his demeanor.

  As soon as he walked into Lisa's room, Lisa looked up woozily. "Kill them all?” she asked. She looked haggard and weak.

  Mace nodded briefly. "The threat is over.”

  “I wish I’d been there,” she said in a faraway voice. Locking eyes with Mace, her expression was despondent. “I’m going to die here. In a fucking hospital bed. It’s the worst feeling in the goddamn world.”

  Nodding again, Mace said quietly, “I know. Doesn’t have to be that way. That’s why I’m here.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked shakily.

  As he stood there, he suddenly realized what needed to be done. "I’m leaving. I want you to come with.”

  Her head burned with fever. She couldn’t comprehend the request.

  “Where would we go?”

  “Chase down the rest of the Plaguers. End that threat for good. Leave this camp in peace.” As the words left his lips, it all started to come together.

  “Last time didn’t work out so well,” she reminded him, lifting her wrists a few inches off the bed. Her veins looked dark and infected. Pain spread across her face from the effort.

  “We’ve got an ambulance outside full of nukes. I’m going to find the Plaguers and drive it into the middle of them.”

  Lisa stared at him for the longest time. “What about Jade and the boys?”

  “It’s time for this camp to heal and grow,” he answered quietly. “There are people here who can do that a whole lot better than us."

  Understanding where he was coming from, Lisa looked up at him sadly and offered, "We won't be remembered for our humanitarian work, will we." Thinking of the others, she said, "Roger and Tom are good men. They could lead this camp in a different direction." Her voice grew silent as she remembered what happened to Tom. She felt confused much of the time. Mace saw the sadness etched on her face. "I'm ready," she said, locking eyes with him. "I'm tired of living like this."

  “It would be an honor to finish this with you,” Mace stated bluntly, nodding his head in agreement. “We’ve done what we can to keep this camp safe. We're no longer needed here. The big threats are over. It’s time to hand over the reigns.”

  “We did keep this place safe, though, didn’t we?” she asked.

  “Hell yes," he said firmly. "That we did.” His stomach sank as he remembered the six that just perished.

  Mace felt their bond as they stared at each other. They were connected, more so than anyone else in camp.

  "You sure you're ready to meet your maker?" she asked, gazing up at him curiously. It had been a long time since they'd held a spiritual conversation.

  "I am what life has made me," Mace answered quietly, not willing to share what he'd just experienced. "I wasn't born for the light. I've come to terms with that," he said, replaying the horror that was just displayed within him. "What ever happens when I die will be just. I'm done questioning or fighting it."

  “I’m in,” Lisa said softly, a look of peace briefly passing through her. "We'll both find out soon enough. Just give me some time to explain to Chelse.”

  "Right. I've got to say some goodbyes myself."

  CHAPTER EIGHTY FIVE

  Jade was busy trying to put the kids down when Mace walked through the front door. Jason bolted from his room, running straight into Mace's arms as soon as he heard him enter. "Daddy!" Jason yelled as Mace picked him up. Staring into Jason's face, Mace felt an overwhelming sense of loss and sadness. He couldn't understand why he couldn't feel love, especially for his own son. It broke his heart, or what little was left of it.

  Hugging him close, Mace prayed for the first time in years, hoping that love would enter into his heart once more and he could remain with his family. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to leave any of them.

  He felt nothing.

  He wasn't surprised.

  Placing Jason back on the ground, he felt tears drip down his face.

  "What's wrong, Daddy?" Jason asked, touching a teardrop before Mace stood back up. He'd never seen his father cry before.

  "Nothing, Jason," Mace said, not understanding where the tears came from.

  Coming out of the kids room, Jade was instantly concerned by the teardrops on Mace's cheeks. He was not a man easily shaken.

  "Are you alright?" she asked. At first she thought it might have to do with Jim and Yvette. Mace had been noticeably absent after the biker threat was squashed. She'd been waiting for him to return home.

  Unsure how to respond, Mace just stared back, a pained expression on his face as he tried to find the right words.

  "What?" she said as her head reeled. Something was very wrong. She suddenly felt very afraid.

  “I’m leaving camp,” he finally said bluntly. “And I’m taking Lisa with me. We won't be coming back.”

  Jade felt her heart rip from her chest at the words. “What are you talking about?” Tears instantly formed at the corners of her eyes. She could tell by the look on his face he was serious and had already made up his mind. She’d feared this day might come.

  Feeling instantly shaky and vulnerable, she said almost pleadingly, “You’re my husband. We can get through this. You can't just up and leave your kids.”

  M
ace took a second to compose himself as he tried to formulate an answer that would satisfy her. Amazed at the lump in his throat, he smiled sadly at the emotion. “I am not fit to be their father. I am not getting better and I am not going to. I feel it inside.” Getting a little bit more animated, he continued. “The last thing Jason said to me was he wanted to grow up to be just like me. He wants to kill the bad guys, and he can't wait until he can get shot, too. That's not the life I want for him, and I know you feel the same way.”

  Jason looked confused as he looked up at his father. "I do want to be just like you," he said, looking from Mace to Jade. Grabbing him by the hand, Jade led him back towards his bedroom. "Could you watch your brother for a minute?" she asked, trying not to get weepy. Her hand was visibly shaking.

  Jason just nodded his head, his eyes wide, confused by her demeanor.

  "I'll be right back," Jade said, trying to sound reassuring.

  Returning to Mace, Jade suddenly began to sob. "You can't do this. You can't just up and leave. There's got to be another way." She grabbed him by his jacket and shook him as she stared into his eyes. "There's got to be another way."

  Mace's face looked drained as he slowly shook his head. "I have to, Jade. It's the only answer."

  With tears on her face, Jade's shoulders sagged as she realized the futility of arguing with him. When his mind was made up, he became immovable. "There's nothing I can do to change your mind, is there?" she said, already knowing the answer.

  Mace shook his head again slowly.

  Backing up against the wall, Jade was suddenly overcome with emotion and placed her hand against her chest. Her face was wracked with pain and she slowly slid to the floor, her eyes glued to Mace, as she felt her strength drain out of her. She let her head fall forward and covered her face with her hands. The sobs came deep and hard as the reality hit her. Not knowing what to do, Mace waited for her to finish.