by Hawk, J. K.
Stratton had been abandoned early on in the initial outbreak, and then later vastly consumed by fire. A little over a month ago I walked its vacant streets, stumbling over the rubble of collapsed houses, and overwhelmed by its eerie silence. There was no strategic value, no threat to others, it was a ghost town that was barren of all its ghosts. My only hunch was that some faction targeted it as a test site, or more likely someone fucked-up and missed their real target. It was, however, a sign that the civil disorder Mason had spoken of was escalating and spreading rapidly. With that in mind, we packed up our things and moved on, unwilling to wait for dawn’s completion.
* * * * * By mid-morning, as the heat of the rising sun bared down upon us, we broke through the thick woodlands and set foot upon an old logging road, barely reclaimed by Mother Nature. Although these lasting imprints of man can be a never-ending and winding maze, I decided to stick with it for as long as possible, giving my legs a little break from the treacherous mountain landscapes. Occasionally we came upon washed out rough-timber bridges and fallen trees, but overall we covered a few miles with ease.
Abel was a lifesaver, we packed little supplies for our journey, practically no food, but he has proven his resourcefulness. Although he eats little, Abel is quite content in dining on insects and tadpoles from the depleting pools collected within the stagnant ditches. However he did find us a smorgasbord of wild fruit; blue-berries, raspberries and even tiny strawberries as sweet as his late mother. Steph and I took a moment to gorge ourselves before filling our pockets and eventually continuing on. Ultimately I doubt I would have survived such a trek on myown, I’m a geek, a lab-rat with little experience in the art of roughing it, but with Abel by our sides we are faring quite well.
“Do your hear that?” The boy said as we climbed a steep hill of weathered and loose gravel.
“What?” Iquestioned, stoppingin mytracks to catch mybreath.
“It sounds like a fire. Cracks and pops.”
“I hear nothing.” I answered, the only sound was that of my heavy panting and pounding heart.
The boy shrugged and eagerly continued his climb as I took one last deep breath and followed. We reached the peak of the incline, which thankfully descended rapidly before us, only to provide a clear view of the endless road continuously wriggling through the landscape like a dusty serpent. From our vantage point I could see our current path eventually weaved around and stretched back north, away from Rangeley which was just now barely visible off in the distance.
Discouraged by the fact we would soon have to leave the comfort of the roadway and back into the dense thicket, I became even more uneasy at the menacing echoes that rung out in my ears. The cracks and pops of what Abel described as fire was unfortunately not the case. Ahead of us, in the vast stretches of this sylvan land, was the unmistakable resonance of man’s greatest and most appalling feats… War.
Steph snatched up my hand, she too realized what we were about to venture into, and as she nervously clenched hold, her other hand gently caressing the boys hair. He was our brawn, and I was the brains, but Steph, she was the comfort we needed in this uncomforting approach. Together we are stronger than any militia, more far reaching than any army, and more determined than any man before us. But we were not invincible, and we would need more than just our own fortitude.
We rested awhile, listening as the firefights intensified, which seemed to echo at us from the east towards the devastated town of Stratton as well as west from the town of Rangeley, and everything in-between. I highly doubted the bloodshed which ensued before us was that of the Christian Alliance nor of the Islamic Coalition which Mason had mentioned. What we were listening to was more likely the greedy skirmishes of raiders. Small groups of well-armed heathens fighting to reap the rewards of conquest. And yet, I find it unlikely that a bunch of uneducated thugs could launch a weapon of such devastating proportions like we saw this morning. There was something more to this battle, another force quickly picking off the weak one by one.
“What is it?” Abel eventually asked.
“That is the reason your father brought you back to this land.” I answered. “That is the sound of Man’s corruption.”
“But why? Why fight each other and not the demons?”
“We were. There was a time, not so long ago, that we set aside our differences and worked to overcome this land of the dead.” I paused, then looked him in the eyes. “Now, they see the disease as just another nuisance of life, they’ve become accustomed to it, in away comfortable with it. And once man loses sight of the cause which united them, they revert to older and more dangerous follies.”
“So why save them?” He asked sincerely.
“That’s a good question.” Ianswered. “Istill have faith, though, that we can overcome such baneful pettiness.”
“There is still good in the world.” Steph piped in, “You just have to find it.”
After resting awhile we headed off down the road, quietly listening to the battle ahead of us, yet trying to pretend it wasn’t there. How we would cross the front lines and reach our destination was a mystery to me, and appeared ultimately futile. And the thought of Ash’s men succumbing to this conflict drove needles into my skin. But I did not voice my concerns, allowing hope to give the boy fuel, hope that defying his father’s wishes and following a devilman was not in error. Unfortunately I had no reassurance to offer.
By late afternoon we reached the bend in the road that stretched on back north, and I made the decision to set camp for the night rather than blindly traversing the forest. As the sun settled down behind the mountains, so didn’t the echoes of the pointless skirmish. Night would bring a brief period of peace, and as throughout history, the morning sun will escalate the deaths of the misguided. Knowing we were not alone in this alpine realm, I decidedly chose not to light a fire. There has been no sign of Prowler’s trailing us for quite some time, their attention assumingly turned towards the bloodshed, and I preferred not to draw the raider’s attention during the night.
Campaign for Restitution
I had dozed off for mere moments throughout the night, lost somewhere between the dreamscape and reality, fear tapping my shoulder with every infinitesimal snore that escaped my airways. Abel and Steph fell asleep immediately after dinner, and I did my best to keep watch during the cloud-cloaked night. With all that was on my mind, it was the hope of rain that held strong, its cooling plummet upon a parched landscape would be a small gift to an imminent and unforgiving day.
Sounds of the unknown seemed to close in on us somewhere past midnight, and in my mind I tried to convince myself that it was just raccoons, opossum, or even owl’s fluttering from tree to tree. But my overzealous imagination threw me a dreadful display of murderous villains, or an army of the dead. Out-gunned, outnumbered, and exhausted, we were unmatched in every aspect except for stealth. Our presence was for the moment was unknown, but upon the onset of the suns blaze, and darkness fades to light, perceptions will change.
“What’s that?” The boy said, I had never even noticed him sit up from his slumber.
“What?” I whispered.
“Over there, through the trees.”
Peering through the pitch black, scanning the dense woodlands fervently until off in the distance I spotted an insignificant flicker of light. Slowly I stood from my dusty earthen bed in an attempt to get a better look, but instead my view was further obscured by the low hanging canopy. The forest was still alive with the same, shadowy noises as before, but the lack of silence could only mean that I was not hearing nocturnal critters, but something more formidable.
“Wait here.” I demanded as Steph awakened to our commotion.
Snatching up my pistol I cautiously stepped through the brush and into the arid timber, each footstep brought a resonating crackle that halted my advance, but ignoring the fear and holding my breath, I continued with one step ever so slowly. The inches seemed like miles, and my stomach tensed and bubbled nervously. I do not recall
for how long or how far I ventured before the light reappeared. First, just as a slight twinkle, but as I moved closer the dancing light came into full view. A camp fire, around it eight or so men, heavily intoxicated and sufficiently armed.
Together they howled with curses and jesting comradery, followed by drunken laughter. They appeared to be swapping stories, although I could not hear them clearly, yet I assume they barbarically spoke on each of their own transgressions as if they were proud and noble Spartan’s of the past. I hesitated to turn back, my proximity to them was too close for comfort, and it was a miracle they had not heard my approach.
“They’re coming.” Abel’s voice whispered from the darkness. I turned to find his silhouette just behind me, although his lack of obedience was irritating, yet his soundless approach was something to marvel at. Immediately I gestured for him to be quiet and moved back, out of earshot of the drunken criminals, and towards the road. Grasping tight to the boy’s arm as if to show him some form of parental guidance.
“They’re coming.” The boy repeated as we stepped back onto the weather beaten path.
“What’s going on?” Steph questioned upon our return, but I ignored her inquiry and knelt down before Abel.
“Who?” I asked.
“The dead!” He exclaimed as he pointed back up hill behind us.
A faint sapphire and fuchsia haze had just barely broke over the eastern mountains, casting just enough morning light to turn complete darkness into a myriad of shadows. Descending the steep roadway was the unmistakable silhouette of a lumbering horde, although I could only make out those not under the cover of the forest, but estimate the entire drove was a thousand strong and quite possibly much more. I was taken aback, flabbergasted, frozen in my own fear. It was the largest gathering of Necrotics I had seen in years. A lost mob, dormant in the thick forests, until awakened once again by the sounds of man’s violent greed.
“Fuck!” I exclaimed.
Outrunning them, from this distance, would be of no concern. But we would be running straight into a reawakening battle for which there are many fronts and no real objective. Dodging the cross-fire or navigating the dead were the only options before us. We needed a distraction, something to push the militia’s away and slow the advancing dead while we made for Rangeley. What we needed was our own army, a force stronger than those ahead of us, a force that cannot be defeated by the weapons of man, a force with no control except for its own mindless will.
“RUN!”
My voice rung out like a fire-alarm, and with good cause, as I pulled an emergency flare-gun from my pack and without thought I aimed into the brush and yanked back the trigger. With a loud pop, a fiery ball of red blasted into the dried tinder, and as we dove into the forest the ground cover lit up like a beacon and within seconds the highly combustible evergreens were engulfed. Not looking back, we rushed through the forest, skipping out an around the enemies camp while and indiscriminate firestorm mounted an onslaught over the parched landscape.
Mistaking firelight for the gleam of dawn, those nameless warriors answered a new day as gunfire echoed throughout the forest and their petty cause recommenced. Oblivious to the approaching flames and uninformed of the unstoppable horde, their war waged in defiance of moral balance. Screams arose soon after as carcass and flame became a marching pyre and breached their perimeters. The three of us continued to tear through the forest, covering as much ground as possible and widening the gap with every leap and bound. Even as the winds shifted and the landscape filled with smoke we did not halter our steps.
As the sun’s rays breached the mountains and bled through the thick soot, other detachments began their own fire-fight and we could feel the breeze of the bullets as they blazed past us with no intended target. They were firing wastefully and blind, but we pushed hard, ignoring the sting of splintering trees and the pelting of airborne dirt and stone. Steph, braver than I had ever presumed, kept pace with tears and all. She was now one of us, just like those who pulled through The Great Outbreak, she had been thrusted into chaos and was officially a survivor… For now.
The natural order of the wilderness had eroded away into anarchy and death, so much that running through the crossfire was predictably ill-fated. Snatching up both Steph and Abel’s arms, I dragged them down into a damp moss-covered dell and pushed them to the ground while holding their heads firmly below the line of fire. My hope was that the feuding sects would move past us, or pause briefly enough for us to make another dash. But dawn’s lights was gaining strength, as was the infernos pursuit and a meaningless crusade. All for what? Claim to these lands, to anything or anyone they set eyes on. Or is this simply for the glory of the kill, barbarism at its finest. Mankind, throughout all of time, has basked in both animosity and bloodshed.
As we kept our heads down and waited, time seemed to slow, but soon, far of in the distance a rumble approached. The repetitive and thunderous thumps grew fast, a sure and unmistakable sound of our rescue party. Three birds to be exact, approaching swiftly and with purpose. The fighters amongst the forest soon turned their attention towards our transports, ignoring the crackling echoes approaching from behind them. Quietly I signaled that it was time to move, and neither Abel nor Steph protested as we stood for another rush towards our objective.
“HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!” A voice called out over the distance gunfire before any of us could take the first step.
Just above us stood a large burly man carrying a heavy assault shotgun, pointed directly at my head. I reached for the pistol, only to hear the cranking of a rifles charging handle. Glancing behind I found two more men, armed and staring at us with a murderous gleam in their eyes. Slowly I raised my hands in submission, nodding to the others to do the same.
“We found em, boys!” Cried the burly man.
“I don’t know who you think you found, but you’re mistaken.” I stuttered. Their leader stepped forward, grabbing Abel by the chin and looking into his eyes.
“By the looks of this lil fellar, you’re who we come for.” He chuckled, then threw one of the other men a delighted glare. “Get on the radio, private, we need evac, ASAP.”
His demeanor and tone, the words he used to command his men all turned my attention to their attire. Not the raggedy and blood stained fabric of lawless raiders, but full camo battle-dress, military issued boots and a combat helmet secured tightly upon their heads. But, these were not GFS Soldiers, their uniforms did not carry our insignia, but instead a crudely stitched Red, White, and Blue Maple Leaf.
“Canadian Military?” I asked, but the commander merely snickered at me. “Who are you then?”
“I am Sargent Malcolm Harris of the Northern Alliance.”
“Northern Alliance?” I received no further information. “Sargent Harris, I am Patrick Zi…”
“We know who you are, Mr. President, but you have no authority here. These lands have been annexed in the name of Chancellor Fredrickson, and from here on out you will hold your breath, sir.”
As I held my head low it dawned on me, the radio, they must have overheard my transmission back at the tower, it never occurred to me that others might be listening in. This entire campaign, all of this death, was not about greed and territory, but about the boy. It was a battle for the cure. A battle for power and control. But who were they fighting? Raiders alone wouldn’t stand a chance. No, there was another force skulking through these forests, and I dreaded a direct clash between the two.
I tried not to smile as the sound of one chopper slowly descended towards Rangeley until its engine quickly wound down to a stop. The other two continued to circle, releasing a volley of fifty caliber rounds down into the forest below along with the occasional scream of hell-fire missiles. Aside from the armed conflict, and the blaze that approached, there were no signs of the dead and the Prowler’s appeared to have vacated the area.
“Sargent, they’re on route, thirty minutes.” The private barked.
“Now we wait.” Muttered Harris.
* * * * * An hour had passed, and still no sign of their comrades, yet throughout the mountain landscape the battle continued to wage. The choppers assaults faded not too long ago, I assume their fuel had been used up and they made their way back to base. And, there has been so sign of our own rescue team, but I prayed that they find us soon. The fire is closing in, enough that its thunderous blaze could be heard clearly, but thankfully the ever changing winds have slowed its destruction.
However, the effects of the inferno have not gone unnoticed, and not long after the radioman’s transmission a few Necrotic’s wander passed our position, blistered and scorched, smoke still billowing from their bodies. They were quietly put down, but more are sure to come, many more. We were in the center of a battle-field that stretched between two mountains and from Rangeley all the way to Stratton. It was an engagement that will forever scar this landscape, and we were held captive at its heart.
Our captors were becoming agitated by the minute, knowing full well that their rescue may have been compromised, and that the dead have now joined this fight. Even if the GFS finds us, it is highly unlikely that we will ever get back to the chopper. The unnerving sounds of hell has only intensified, and somewhere, someone out their holds the keys to weapons that can finish this battle at any moment. Weapons that can turn this mountain into a pile of dusty rubble.
“Your commander has abandoned you.” I finally spoke up. “Quiet! They will be here!” The brawny leader lashed out. “And if they do show up, what is the plan? Are we to just waltz
out of here ? We are surrounded by both the living and the dead.” “Shut up or I’ll cut your tongue out!” Another man cried. “You won’t survive. None of you will.” Abel said meekly.