Angels and the Bad Man

by M. K. Gibson

  “The Green Man.”

  “Well, fuck me.”

  “That is what I said.” Grimm smiled as he clasped his twin’s shoulder as well. “I wish you well.”

  “I am you. When I perish, my energy will return. Until then, be well. Survive this.”

  “I will try. Now, please put on these clothes. It is best if they are chasing you that you look the part,” Grimm said, passing his cassock and hat to the twin.

  “Agreed,” the twin said, stripping down. As he did the conjured clothing the twin wore vanished in a puff of ethereal smoke, no longer attached to the spell’s host.

  Now dressed and with a final nod, the twin took off running into the forest, leaving Grimm alone. The portion of his soul he had to sever to create the twin would normally return to him when the twin was destroyed. But following G-day, Grimm was not sure. He suspected the sliver of spirit would find a new host rather than return to him. A being reborn as a new life, as this new world, as the current soul-deficient existence, demanded.

  The thought gave Grimm a moment of pause. Should he survive this, there could be another piece of him out there. Another child. No. Grimm shook his head. He banished that particular thought for the moment. Considering where he was, and what he had to sacrifice to create this world, the thought of another child was too terrible to bear.

  Nude, save for his underwear, Grimm took off northwest at a steady pace, bounding through the forest. As he ran, Grimm began to remove his mental wards. Carefully, step by step, the walls of his mind came sliding down. The dark thing that resided in his core, the creature which made him . . . him, came closer to being free.

  Grimm could not release the darkness fully, lest the world suffer again. But he had to allow enough of it free not only to survive the hunt, but also to do what he needed.

  He had to be cold.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I Just Condemned My People

  Now, in the Waste

  “Up,” a harsh voice said as my blankets were whisked away.

  Macha, in her hybrid-bison form, stood over my pallet, my blankets in hand. Akecheta stood behind her in his human form, shaking his head at his sister.

  “They’re guests.”

  “That’s why I didn’t kick them awake,” Macha growled.

  Akecheta shrugged as he offered me a hand, which I accepted. “You sure you two are related?”

  “So Mother affirms. Some days, I have my doubts,” Akecheta smiled, hauling me to my feet.

  “You’re wanted,” Macha said as she turned to leave.

  “What’s going on?” TJ asked as he rolled over and rubbed at his eyes.

  “Ehawee wants to see you,” Akecheta said. “Follow Macha. I’ll keep an eye on the boy.”

  I looked to TJ, who looked at Akecheta, then back at me. “I’ll be fine. I think.”

  “He will be fine,” the large man promised.

  “What if I don’t want to go?” I asked.

  “I get to wake you up my way,” Macha said, standing by the door.

  “So much for being guests,” I grumbled, walking to join Macha. “TJ, I’ll be back. Be safe.”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  ********

  Traveling upwards, Macha led me along a set of stone stairs that wound along the ravine. The sun was down, and small LED lights illuminated the path. Below me, small campfires lit the valley. The People enjoyed the evening by cooking meals, singing, laughing, and dancing. I envied them. People living free.

  Back in the cities people existed. But out here they lived. Their food and shelter was cultivated from the sweat of their brow. Their joy was found from within and expressed a community, as opposed to whatever intoxicant, synthetic designer drug, or depraved sex act we city folks craved for distraction.

  In her hybrid form, Macha took three to four stairs at a time and I was forced into a light jog to keep up. Deep down she must have known how much I despised cardio.

  Diabolical bitch.

  Cresting the lip of the canyon behind Macha, I huffed and puffed a little, grateful to be at the top. The tops of my thighs burned from the near-constant upwards climb.

  “You’re out of shape,” Macha said, mocking me.

  I wanted to say something biting and witty in response. Instead, I bent over at the waist sucking air while I gave her the finger. The Collective kept my body operating at top levels, but I guess one actually has to practice running and such to get better at it.

  Ahh, screw that noise. I’m like Gimli—very dangerous over short distances. Let the elf-loving idiots jog.

  Once I had my breath back, I saw a large, half-domed platform carved into the rock face opened up before me. Ehawee sat at the center of a circular dais with various symbols etched into the outer rings. While I didn’t know what the symbols meant, it was clear this was something of a holy place.

  The mature woman was cross-legged and her eyes were closed. She breathed in a rhythmic, steady pattern. Macha reverted back to her human form, that of a nude woman, and removed a robe from a wooden rack, slipping it on. Slowly, Macha sat on her knees with her hands resting on her thighs. I mimicked her action and waited.

  A few moments went by in silence.

  I laughed a little under my breath, drawing a stern glare from Macha. “Show respect.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ve been alive long enough to know the waiting game. When a person wants to impress upon others how important they are, they make you wait until they’re ready to talk. A lot of my old clients did this. I’m used to it.”

  Macha looked as if she were ready to tear me apart.

  “Macha, thank you. Please leave us,” Ehawee said.

  “Gladly,” Macha said as she stood. She returned the robe to the rack while shooting me another look of hatred. Shifting into her hybrid form, she bounded back down the stone walkway.

  “I wanted to be alone with you,” Ehawee said.

  “No offense, but you’re a little old me for me.”

  Ehawee smiled. “Somehow, I doubt that. For all your practiced idiocy--”

  “Hey!”

  “There is something old, sad, and in pain behind your mask. A frown is your true face and smiling hurts you.”

  I opened my mouth to say something cutting, but I couldn’t. She was right.

  Goddamn . . . when someone hits you with truth right between the eyes, you either deny it and double down on your lies, or you accept it.

  “Who are you?”

  “Someone like you. Someone who’s seen too much of the old world and the new. My words were not meant to hurt you. Apologies if they did. But I know a wounded soul when I see one. Your spirit hangs from you like loose clothing.”

  “Well, it’s been great being your prisoner and all,” I said, standing up. “Can I go back to my cell now?”

  “There,” Ehawee said, pointing at me. “That is what I speak of. Have you ever had a real moment in your life?”

  “Too many,” I said, sitting back down. “Is that why you wanted to see me? To make me feel like shit for masking a long lifetime of pain? If so, I already have an enigmatic, spooky therapist who’s been working on that with me.”

  “No, I want to know why Wakinyan wants you here.”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” I said, lighting a smoke. “Want one?”

  “Oh, gods yes,” Ehawee said, taking the smoke gratefully. “Damn . . . just, damn.”

  “So, how long since you had a real smoke?”

  “Depends,” Ehawee said. “What year is this?”

  I shrugged. “Aside from monthly taxation, no one really keeps a calendar anymore.”

  “How long since the end of days?”

  “About 175 years, give or take.”

  “A few years after that,” Ehawee said.

  Damn. Another immortal. “What’s your gig then? Magic?”

  Ehawee shook her head. “No. Divine parenting. Which is why I can see you are not evil,” she said, bringing the conversation back
to me. “A gift of mine, along with an extended lifespan, is to see the nature of a being. You are not evil. Hurt, duplicitous, broken, and morally flexible, but not evil.”

  “Thanks?”

  “But it does not answer why Wakinyan wants you. So, I believe it is time we speak truthfully to one another. I am Ehawee. I was born twenty years before the end times to a mother who abandoned me. I grew up on this reservation and did as children do. When the final days came, and the stories of my ancestors were no longer stories, I accepted my place and my duty. And I really miss fast food, beer, and cigarettes. In that, I envy you city people. Now, it is your turn.”

  “What do you want from me? I told you why I’m here.”

  “I believe what you said. But tell me of what you did not say. The boy spoke of objects you search for. What are they?”

  What was she looking for? Why ask me this? “I don’t think we need to talk about that.”

  “Then stay here forever.”

  “I thought we were here as long as Wakinyan wished?”

  “And I interpret her wishes.”

  Shit. After exhaustion, being robbed, blackmailed, prison, death, and every other shitty fucking thing that’s happened to me in the last several months, I gave in. I lit another smoke.

  “OK, fine. My name is Salem, and I’ve also been alive since before G-Day. I used to keep to myself. But to shorten the story, here goes: Recently I inherited a creepy mage, a long-dead inventor, two Norse deities, and over two thousand people from an outer-town, all of whom now live on my land. I went to prison for them. I broke out to save them. If I don’t find The Tears of God in the Temple of Solomon, then they are going to die. I have seven days—six now—to find them and get them back to the city.”

  Ehawee nodded. “And to whom do the tears go once you have them?”

  I saw where she was going with this. “To demons.”

  Again, Ehawee nodded. “And should demons possess something like this?”

  “Probably not. But what would you do to protect your people?” I asked. “If The People were in jeopardy, wouldn’t you do everything within your power to save them?”

  “It is clear that you only have your people’s interests in mind.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But it is also clear Wakinyan does not wish you to succeed. And I must obey her wishes. For that is what a child does. They obey.”

  It became very apparent very quickly that Ehawee and I, while friendly, were now on opposite sides of a very important issue. The gulf between us could not be breached. Wakinyan demanded we stay. And for the sake of my people, I could not remain there.

  The next few seconds grew very tense.

  “I can’t stay here,” I said.

  “And I cannot let you leave.”

  I ran through my options. And they were very fucking limited. Aside from some freaky powers Ehawee might be hiding, I was confident I could take her out, even without my guns. I could jump off the cliff, use my HBI, and land by the Outrider. But what would that get me? I didn’t know where TJ was, and I’d already decided not to leave him.

  TJ . . . son of a bitch.

  “That’s why you separated us, isn’t it? Why Macha brought me here and Akecheta is with TJ.”

  “Yes.”

  “I could snap your neck,” I growled.

  “Maybe. Maybe not. But if you try, you will never see the boy again. I say this not as a threat, for I do not wish the boy harm. However, you may not leave.”

  My heart was pounding in impotent frustration. The vein in my neck throbbed with the burning acidity of knowing there was fuck-all I could do.

  “You should sit and relax,” Ehawee said in a reassuring, calm voice.

  I fired up the mass inducer and slammed my fist down on the cold stone dais, breaking the rock.

  “Do you feel better? Did your tantrum help?”

  “I’m getting there,” I growled.

  I wanted nothing more than to rip her head off and punt it soccer style off the ravine. But that would doom TJ. So I could do nothing. She wasn’t evil. The People weren’t evil. I’ve seen evil. I’ve walked with evil. Hell, I’ve had beers while doing rails of coke off a lust demon’s ass with evil.

  Those people below were good. They lived the life I secretly wished I had. But I’d been too chicken shit to walk away from the life and noise of the city. Too afraid to turn my back on the familiar and embrace the solitude and peace of the wilds.

  I collapsed on the stone dais and hung my head. What could I do? If I left, TJ would die. If I stayed, Löngutangar would die. One life for thousands.

  But at what cost?

  Where did my humanity end? If I let TJ die, what did I represent? Was it better to let my people fall to demons’ hands, knowing that I could save one child’s life? Or would I—could I—look them in the eye and tell them I had to sacrifice one of their own to save them?

  Fuck!

  Maybe . . . maybe Vali and the rest were working on a way out? Maybe Khurzon delivered my message along with the children and they were already preparing an escape.

  “Let wisdom settle your mind.”

  “Don’t push it, lady,” I growled as I lit a smoke. “I just condemned my people today.”

  What was I going to tell TJ? Fuck, I hadn’t even considered that. I made a promise to him. How could I tell him his father might die now?

  Damn it. Damn it all to hell. I could have just freaking cried right there. But the screaming engines of an inbound aircraft kind of killed my mood.

  Switching my eyes into night vision, I zoomed in to see an unidentified gunship on a direct course for the valley. The aircraft was a modified heavy transport, refitted with wing-mounted, circular, directional thrusters and enough firepower to kill a small moon.

  “I’m guessing that’s not yours?” I asked Ehawee.

  The older woman narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “No.”

  “Well, that’s just ducky.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Born or Hatched

  The gunship was closing fast.

  “Shit. Ehawee, what defenses do The People have against a military-grade gunship?”

  “Very little.”

  “Of course not.” I shook my head. “Wait, what about Abominations? Surely you use some kind of plasma weapons or something. Hell, when I came in here, every one of your people was packing a piece. I remember because they all had guns pointed at me.”

  “Yes, that was amusing. But aside from basic firearms and explosives, we have very little. We draw the Abominations away from the valley or hunt them in the open range using guerrilla tactics.”

  Damn damn damn.

  “Mother!” Macha yelled, cresting the edge of the ravine in her hybrid form. “Mother, we have incoming!”

  “I see, Daughter. What of The People?”

  “The children and the elderly are evacuating into the tunnels. Akecheta leads the warriors in response.”

  “Response?! What are they going to do, moo at the flying ship of death?”

  Before Macha had replied with one of her usual growls, the gunship began a strafing pass. A torrent of ionized plasma ripped through the valley, blasting rock. People screamed in fear as the land erupted in explosions. There was no reason for whoever they were to be here. No reason other than me.

  Goddamn it. God DAMN it.

  At the far end of the valley, the craft’s four circular fusion thrusters glowed a bright white and allowed the ship to pivot and hover. The broad, angular vessel swung around and descended in elevation. It began another attack run, preparing to fire from a lower altitude to maximize the weapon’s destructive capabilities.

  “Gimme my guns!” I yelled at Macha.

  “I don’t have them.”

  “Aww, fuck ’em, I don’t need them,” I said, clearly lying to myself.

  Watching the gunship, I backed up as far as I could inside the stone structure. My head down, I whispered a prayer to the foolish deities who seemed t
o watch out for my ass. Come to think of it, they were the same assholes who also put me in these situations.

  Ahh, screw them too.

  “What are you doing?!” Macha yelled.

  “Something really stupid! Just get with your brother and have your warriors ready.”

  “Where?”

  “Just follow the chaos,” I said as I kicked off the stone back wall of the semi-enclosed dais and sprinted for the lip.

  Lowering my mass with the HBI, I leaped as the gunship passed by. Igniting a blast from my pulse boots, I flew through the air, clearing the gunship’s thrusters. Hitting the top of the fuselage, I rolled hard and fired the nano-filament grapples into the duranium composite body to keep myself from flying off as my mass coalesced back into myself.

  The chisel tip of my left nano-line pinged off the gunship’s duranium composite armored hull while the right barely penetrated. I had just enough leverage to keep myself from falling off before the nano-line popped free.

  Damn. Winter wind whipped past me as I fought to hold my balance. Even with my coat, the air was freezing. Worse, the wind made my footing unstable.

  Of course it was unstable. Because I’m the moron who just jumped onto the back of a flying gunship. Damn it. Why do I keep putting myself in these idiotic situations?

  The gunship reached the end of the valley. Banking, it prepared to go back for another pass. Looking down, I saw that The People had all managed to clear the area and find refuge within the carved-out rock homes.

  Good. Now all I had to do was figure out how to bring down a fully armored, military-grade gunship with only my tech bracers and my ingenuity.

  Hell, I was boned.

  Without my guns, I couldn’t take out the fusion thrusters or the tail stabilizer. As strong as I was, I couldn’t rip through the duranium hull or the composite armor plating. Hell, the nano-wires barely penetrated enough to keep me on the craft.

  My mass inducer could greatly increase my weight, but this thing was designed to carry troops. For me to reach a mass heavy enough to ground this bird, my bones would snap and my lungs would collapse.

  Yup, boned.