Venom of the Gods

by Sebastian Chase

  "He owned it?" she asked, stunned.

  "Yes, ma'am. Once you secure a law firm and I imagine an accountant or two, you can dive into the specifics of ownership transfer." Karen sat in contemplative silence as Captain Thomas flipped the page. "And Mr. Spencer, while I know it will not make up for your loss; a donor has transferred twenty-million dollars to you along with a message that says you will need it, whatever that means." Now it was my turn to be speechless. "It came from someone named Henri, no last name given, out of England. Sound familiar?"

  "No," I murmured, feeling stunned.

  My quiet shock abruptly shattered when the door burst open and my daughter came running in.

  "Dad!" Lori exclaimed, rushing to the bed and diving into my arms with a great big hug. After almost a full minute, she pulled away. At the sight of her, love returned to my soul, and a new hope for the future blossomed.

  "Are you okay?" I asked.

  "Never better!"

  "I mean…about your mother."

  "Oh, that. It's sad, but yes, I'm okay. A lot has happened since then, plus after what she did to you…"

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  "You don't remember?"

  "No."

  "Oh jeez, I should have kept my mouth shut. You found out she was having an affair with Mitch. She kicked you out."

  "She was having an affair?" I felt like Ötzi the Iceman, blissfully frozen for millennia until a brutal new world discovered him.

  "Yeah, so you moved in with Karen. You two make a great couple."

  I looked over at Karen, who appeared to be nervous. "Well, I didn't want to say anything when you woke up so confused," she said. While I couldn't remember, I could see why I would have been attracted to this woman.

  I looked back to Lori. "Where have you…" I stopped, noticing her eyes for the first time. "What happened to your eyes? They were brown." Her eyes were a vivid—uncannily so—blue.

  "Don't be silly," Lori said. "Eyes don't change color. Your memory will return. Don't worry."

  "But I do remember your beautiful brown eyes that could get anything out of me you wanted. I do."

  Lori shook her head. "Please don't stress about it. Everything will be fine. I'm with you now." She leaned forward, her glowing blue eyes seeming to penetrate my soul until she closed them and embraced me once again. "With God, everything is possible," she whispered into my ear.

  Karen gasped. I turned my head to her, my arms still wrapped around my daughter. Against my forearm, Karen held a bent IV needle she had appropriated from somewhere. She looked at me, eyes wide with wonder.

  "I knew it," she whispered. "The memories are real."

  My daughter pulled away, looked at the bent needle and then to me. "Michael," she said. "Rest. You will need your strength, for you still have much work to do to fix this world. I must go now, before Hathor resumes control. The worse has yet to come…" Then, to my astonishment, the blue swirled out of her eyes to be replaced by a rich mahogany brown.

  "Daddy?" Lori asked in a confused voice.

  "I'm here, honey."

  "It wasn't a dream was it? You…you are a god, right? Like a vampire god?"

  "I don't know what I am." I looked at Captain Thomas standing in the corner. "Perhaps you can shed some light on things?"

  He hesitated and then stepped forward. "Now that he's gone, I can."

  "He?" I asked.

  "The god that was in your daughter."

  I looked at my daughter's face and then back to the captain. "What are you talking about?"

  "It's a long story, but as soon as you're able, I can brief you. We have a situation in France that we could use your help with."

  "Well, I am able. Talk."

  And with that, I stepped into a fire, learning that a demonic entity now controlled France, a lunatic god roamed the planet possessing people, and I was the only one capable of stopping them. This, naturally, I found hard to believe, but my daughter confirmed much of it, and then there was the bent needle. Too much…too much information, too much to take in and rationalize; I needed to get away and think. Just my daughter and I, and perhaps Karen, although Lori said Karen is a demon, but that too is unbelievable—she is gorgeous and kind. All of us, we could fly away to a quiet resort for a while. Or better, just pick up and move to some place quiet and beautiful. Perhaps the mountains of Colorado? I always loved it there, plus they have great steak. Rare, I've always liked it rare and dripping with blood for some reason. That's where we'll go for awhile. Colorado. The world has to wait. I don't even know who, or what, I am. I looked at my daughter and smiled, but the disconcerting words whispered from her lips by a possessing spirit lingered in my mind—

  The worse has yet to come…

  Sneak preview of Venom of the Apocalypse:

  VENOM OF THE APOCALYPSE

  "They sacrificed to demons that were no gods, to gods they had never known, to new gods that had come recently, whom your fathers had never dreaded." Deuteronomy 32:17

  1

  They tell me that I am a god, but that doesn't mean I can perform miracles.

  "Dad, please! You've got to do something!" my daughter, Lori, pleaded from the backseat of our four-door Wrangler.

  We had driven down from our place in the mountains to get supplies in Boulder, something we had done every month since moving to Colorado six month before. And on every trip, things looked progressively worse on the plains, culminating in this moment when we had just pulled into the grocery store's parking lot. Four men with guns had surrounded an innocent-looking brown Labrador, and were trying to coax it to come home with them for supper. Judging by their rough motorcycle-gang looks, the Lab wouldn't be the guest of honor, but the main course. With the collapse of the economy, the food supply was in shambles. Hamburger could be had on sale for ninety-nine dollars per pound, but stray Labrador was free. The dog's friendly nature made it instinctively wag its tail, but hard lessons about the atrocities humans were capable of also made it skittish. I could identify with that. Every time one of the men went to grab it, it jumped nimbly away, so far still refusing to bite.

  Many had expected human civilization to go out with a bang of guns and bombs, but instead, it was dying a slow agonizing death, fading out of history with a whimper. I was designed to handle guns and bombs, not whimpers, leaving me helpless to assist humanity. The United States of America was a shell of its former self; France was now the world power, and they made sure everyone understood that. Their president, a woman named Monique Moreau, had consolidated the power accumulated by one called Samael. Many believed Samael was the antichrist prophesied to come, but he was like me, an alien from another dimension and nothing more. They tell me that I killed him, but I can't remember the confrontation. They've told me a lot of crazy things that nearly made me split my gut with laughter, but then I saw the videos. Apparently, I could fly at one time, my strength rivaled that of the strongest movie superhero, bullets bounced off me, and I even served as the president of France—although not the power hungry France we have today. But most disturbing, to perform these feats I fed on human blood.

  I sometimes wonder if the videos they showed me were doctored for some perverse reason, but then I am confronted with evidence that makes me question everything. I am as strong as ten men, a knife cannot cut me, and my senses are acute beyond anything nature could design. Unfortunately, the ability to fly and zoom around at incredible speeds seems to have left me, as those would have been very useful for hunting elk and deer. Thankfully though, the thirst for human blood has also died, but bloody rare meat is my favorite.

  "Just talk to them, Mike. Maybe they will recognize you and run away," my new bride, Karen, said from the passenger seat.

  Like me, Karen is supposed to be an immortal, but a bad one, a demon, according to my daughter. Also like me, Karen has no memory of what had transpired in Europe, but somehow we had formed an intense bond that I couldn't imagine letting slip away. Demon or not, I felt she was part of me forev
er. It took several months for my daughter to accept this, but trust eventually came after Karen did everything she could to earn it. Karen really is a wonderful woman, and I consider myself a lucky man.

  "Dad, they're going to shoot it!" Lori cried.

  "Okay, okay. Wait here," I said. I opened the door and got out.

  The cruel hunters were about a hundred feet away, on the side of the store versus the front, with a few curious onlookers watching but smart enough not to interfere. I closed the door, knowing that Karen would look after Lori should something bad happen, and made my way through the parking lot. Several expensive Harleys sat to my left with California plates. I considered tipping them over to get their attention, but decided that would hinder their escape. I wanted them gone fast so that I could get on with my shopping trip and then get back to work. Work, there was always more than enough to go around. It was, after all, the end of the world.

  One man sighted down the barrel of his rifle, seeming tired of playing games with the dog.

  "Hey!" I shouted, picking up the pace. All four looked in my direction, and the dog brilliantly took advantage of this and bolted between them. Instead of running away though, it ran straight for me with the tail still wagging. My hand suffered an affectionate lick, and then the animal took up position behind me as if I were an impenetrable wall that the men couldn't get through. Canines often seem to have better instincts than their two-legged mammalian cousins do. Four hunting rifles swiveled and bore down on me. I stopped ten feet from the savages.

  "Give us the dog and we'll let you go," the head savage said. His teeth were brown, his beard scruffy, and his long stringy hair looked as if it hadn't seen water in months.

  "Either come and take it," I replied. "Or leave."

  "That's an easy enough decision." In unison they stepped forward and spread out, hoping to surround me.

  Perhaps they expected me to back away, quivering in fear, which is probably why they paused in confusion when I boldly stepped forward.

  "Stop!" the leader ordered. I reached for the barrel of his rifle and he fired.

  "Ouch! Fuck, I'm hit!" the one to the right blurted, dropping his gun.

  I glanced at him and saw blood seeping from his left arm. The bullet had ricocheted off my hand and had found him. I grabbed the hot barrel of the stunned leader's rifle and yanked it away. Behind me, the dog yapped, sounding happy with newfound confidence. Confronted with this unexpected turn of events, I saw the third man's finger tighten on the trigger with my eagle-like vision. I flung the rifle at him. It contacted the side of his head hard enough to rip his ear. He dropped to his knees, crying out in pain. Behind me, the fourth man yelled. I turned and saw the Lab bite into his leg. Before the man could bring the butt of his rifle down on the dog's head, I lunged and sent a fist into his chest that shattered ribs and sent him flying back several feet. The dog smartly released its grip and barked victoriously. Behind me, the locals clapped. They knew who I was and my strength was no secret.

  "You haven't lost your touch!" Karen said, coming up next to me, and then moving forward to gather up weapons.

  "I don't think they recognized me like the last ones did. Going for dog is a new low though," I said. "You were supposed to stay with Lori."

  "We had faith in you, Dad," Lori said from behind. I turned and found her kneeling, vigorously petting the dog. "Can we keep her?"

  "That's another mouth to feed. Things are getting bad in the world you know," I said.

  "I'm sure she can fend for herself. Please?" She looked up with her beautiful brown eyes pleading, and then the dog joined her with a similar look, and I caved.

  "Fine, but she's your responsibility." I turned back to the men who were slowly standing. "Go back to California. You're not wanted here."

  The leader looked about to argue, reconsidered, and the four of them hobbled to their motorcycles. They mounted the vehicles, and then one yelled, "You will regret this! There's more of us! This is our country now!" The Harleys started, drowning out any possible reply with thunderous cacophony. They drove away, and I hoped heading back to whatever cesspool they crawled out of as the town had enough problems to deal with now days.

  "C'mon," I said. "Let's get our stuff and get out of here."

  Government enacted price controls had failed within the first month of the New Order, a plan put in place by former Secretary of State Carl Banneker, now President Banneker, and a personal friend. The U.S. dollar became worthless shortly thereafter, forcing citizens to either trade services for goods or use precious metals to get what they needed. This, in turn, led to the further collapse of the government as the tax base dried up. Without cash, the military shriveled to a skeleton crew of those who could launch what remained to protect the country—the nukes. Business' fled overseas or just closed without notice, farmers and ranchers hoarded food for family and friends, water treatment ceased, and electricity was sporadic. Federal law enforcement was also non-existent, which bled down to the local departments, some of which disbanded, while others formed into local militias that ruthlessly protected their territory. The gunslinger days of the Old West had returned, but with better weapons and less justice. Outside our little mountain oasis, life was hell, but stepping into the store reminded me that hell was just a whisper away.

  With all the windows bricked up, the grocery store resembled a fortress more than a local market. We entered through the only door, coming into a front vestibule where a man sat behind bulletproof glass determining who could proceed further or not. Two other men armed with machine guns stood by the door that led into the store proper. A woman with a crying baby in her arms was pleading to the man behind the glass.

  "Please, Cecil!" she cried. "We were raided and have nothing left!"

  "I'm sorry, Rhonda," the man said in a kind but firm voice. "The rules are not negotiable. If we make one exception, the whole town will storm us."

  "What's going on?" I asked, stepping into the conversation. Rhonda turned around.

  "Mike!" she said. "Some people raided us, and now we have nothing!" She held the noisy baby towards me. "Charlie hasn't eaten since yesterday and they won't let us in to get food!"

  I looked questioningly towards Cecil, wondering how he could turn the single mother down. Behind the thick lenses of his glasses, I saw guilt.

  "It's a thousand minimum in silver or gold to get in, Mike," he said. "She only has one-fifty. That won't even buy a gallon of milk."

  "It'll buy a quart!" she yelled.

  "Easy, easy," I comforted. "Karen." Karen stepped forward, her fingers already unzipping the fanny pack around her waist. Inside, gold coins jingled. Before our move west, and before the collapse of civilization, we had converted much of our considerable assets to jewels and precious metals. It hadn't been a genius move, just logical, as most realized when the price of food began to double daily.

  "Here you go," Karen said, handing Rhonda a Gold Eagle coin, now valued at around five-thousand dollars in the new economy.

  "Oh my goodness, thank you!" the woman exclaimed, giving Karen and then me a hug with the arm that didn't hold the child.

  "Buy powdered milk, and get some seeds if they have any," I said. "You need to start growing your food."

  "I will! I will!" She hurried to the door, which was opened by someone from inside once approval was granted. Rhonda gave us one more heartfelt thank you and then vanished inside.

  "Do we have enough to be deemed worthy to live?" I asked Cecil, who was often forced to play the role of God in town.

  "Of course. I'm sorry, Mike. The owner would send me packing if I made an exception to the rules."

  "Unfortunately, I understand. Times are strange. Can we bring the dog in to fit it for a leash and collar? I'll pay if it damages anything."

  "Sure. It seems like a good animal. I watched the video feed from the outside cameras."

  "Your guys could have helped it."

  "We only worry about the inside, it's the—"

  "Rules
," I finished for him. "Thanks."

  As the door opened for us, the satellite phone on my hip briefly vibrated. With electricity scarce, sat phones were the only reliable means of communication, and those were only issued by the government to their most important leaders. I pulled it out and saw a text from my friend and former Navy captain, now admiral, Troy Thomas.

  "What is it?" Karen asked.

  "A message. It must have come through while I was dealing with the bikers. Troy says to call him, it's urgent."

  "He must need some fly-fishing advice again. We'll meet you inside."

  "Okay." As the two women and well-behaved dog went into the store, I stepped outside to get a signal from the satellite. In the warm high-altitude sun, I pressed the preprogrammed button that would ring the phone of Admiral Thomas.

  "Mike!" he answered immediately. "We have a situation."

  "This isn't about fishing?" I asked, having become quite the river angler.

  "No. The report I got last week says the Homestead is ready. True?"

  "Yes, we just finished stashing the MREs. Solar, wind, and hydrothermal are all online. Why, Troy?"

  "Negotiations with France have broken down, not that anyone with a right mind would consider surrender or we will nuke you as negotiations."

  "Surely there must be a way we can work with them while keeping autonomy?" I asked.

  "They refuse to consider that. We're the last country that's a threat to them, and they want that threat gone."

  "So what's the plan?"

  "We're on our way out, Mike. I'm on Air Force One right now with the president. We'll helicopter in from Denver so be ready."

  "If you are coming out here, then something else is happening. Tell me everything, Troy."