by Eric Black
“What happened?” Jims demanded as he reached his wife.
“It was one man.” Krista’s voice was strained with morose. “He was so fast. He came out of nowhere. He didn’t say anything, he just attacked. And then he just stopped and he is gone.”
“One man did this?” Jims was incredulous. Krista nodded at her husband’s assertion.
They attended to the bodies and the families of those who had died. Afterwards, Quentin, Babel, Rusk, and Jims met to the side of the group. “What do you make of this?” Quentin asked Jims.
“I’m not sure. Who is this man and why did he attack us?”
“He attacked because we came to his home.” Babel said.
Three sets of eyes turned to look at Babel. “What do you mean?” Jims asked. “Are you saying the man who attacked us is the man we are looking for?”
Babel nodded. “I believe so, yes. I was not there when he attacked and I have never met him to determine if was the same person but yes, I think it is the same man.”
“But why would he attack? What did we do to him?”
“Look around. We are in a land in which no one lives – no one even comes to. This man has lived in this desolation for countless years. He is bound to be untrusting of anyone he meets. I would image that he is paranoid and wouldn’t be surprised if he was crazy.”
“Crazy?” Rusk asked.
“Wouldn’t you be if you live alone for so long?”
Rusk considered. “Probably. So what do we do about this man?”
Babel shrugged. “We wait for him.”
“And what if he kills more of our people?”
“Then we’ll need to kill him, if necessary. But first we need to find out where he keeps his device. That is the reason we are here – not to make friends with a crazy man but to take possession of the item that will help us defeat the Klopph.”
They spoke further but all agreed the device was imperative for their survival. And so they waited.
CHAPTER FORTY FIVE
Triana awoke in the darkness. She had idea how long she had been asleep. She didn’t know if it was night or day and she didn’t care. Her entire family was dead. The memories of their slaughtered bodies falling to the floor replayed over and over in her mind. When the agony of the memories became too much, she attempted to scream the thoughts back down – but it seldom worked.
Her left hand throbbed where her pinky finger had once been attached. They had cleaned and bandaged the area and it had begun to heal but that did little to quell the dull ache that consumed her entire arm. She would have clutched her hand to her to chest at that moment if she could, just to offer herself some semblance of security, but her arms and legs were restrained. She was cuffed supine to a mattress covered in blood from her seeping hand.
Time slipped by in the silence of the room. Periodically, the silence would be interrupted by a bolt sliding and light would flood into the room. That light was replaced by a Klopph who would change her bandages or initiate her twice daily unchaining to allow her to relieve herself. She would then be reattached to the mattress and spoon fed her meager meal.
She shrunk at the approach of the Klopph as often the sessions would end with touching. They had not done anything more than that, no doubt under strict orders, but the revulsion that ensued as their bare hands touched her exposed breasts and other parts of her was nearly too much. She bit into her bottom lip, drawing blood, to keep from screaming. But she would not allow them that pleasure and she refused to cry until they were gone.
Her most recent session had ended only a few hours prior when the familiar sliding of the bolt echoed in her room, followed by blinding brilliance. Through her squint she could make out a silhouette and a figure came into focus as her eyes adjusted; she recognized the man as the Keeper. She recognized the rules were about to change.
He retreated and his dark image was filled by two Klopph. They removed her restraints and she was led down a long hallway, tracing the trail of the Keeper. She had been blindfolded upon transport and was surprised to learn that she was in one of the Keeper’s palaces. She had heard stories of the many palaces of the Keeper but had no idea which palace she was now in. The view from the windows revealed a lush landscape and she knew she was far from the city – far enough away that she understood she was on her own.
She was shoved into a room with a lone chair. The Keeper waited beside the chair that modeled clasps on the arms and legs. She knew once she was locked in the chair, there was nothing she could do. The Keeper smiled at her with cold eyes. “Well, Triana, it’s been a while. Last time you left too soon. This time, we’ll have plenty of time to catch up.”
After she was secure, the Keeper nodded at her guards and they left the room, closing the door. The loud click of the lock engaging sounded like a guillotine. The corner of her eye caught movement in the depths of the room and for the first time she realized that she was not alone with the Keeper. The Keeper noticed her gaze and smiled. “This man is an old friend of mine. He has served me for many years. And I should tell you that only people who are proficient at what they do serve me for as long as he has.”
He nodded and the man walked over to a cabinet set against the wall. Sunlight from the lone window reflected on the metal objects in the cabinet and Triana knew what was about to happen to her before the first sharp object was brought forth.
The man turned and Triana witnessed the leather gloves and apron that she did not doubt would soon be covered in her blood. She had witnessed the ruthlessness of the man who ruled world with her family. She thought on her cousins and how disposable they were to the Klopph. She doubted she was any less disposable.
Her mind searched for a way to escape or at least reason with the man who walked purposefully towards her. Each thought reached an impasse. It was hopeless.
At that moment, the fear dispelled the sheet of amnesia that her uncle had placed over her memories and she recalled her encounter in the caves. The memories flooded her vision and evoked her own death at the hands of the Keeper. She saw her rebirth with the gift of ajándék and knew that despite her outburst of defiance in the caves, she was once again a pawn of the Keeper. Only this time there would be no escape.
The man in leather reached and with an expression of professionalism on his face, he made the first mark of his trade with the metal object in hand. Triana screamed in anguish. But below the anguish was desperation as she knew no matter how lurid her cries, no one would come to her aid.
CHAPTER FORTY SIX
It was obvious to Jacques that the group of people were not going to leave under their own influence. He had killed members of the group but that had not detoured them. He wasn’t sure exactly what they were after but determined it was time to learn their purpose.
They were surprised to see him as he walked out of his front door. The assembly of visitors had taken up temporary refuge in the circumference of his yard. They had set guards but no one had seen him enter his home. Babel was the first to notice Jacques in the morning light as the man strode down his front walkway towards them.
Rusk moved to intercept him and Jacques decided to go ahead and resume the tone he had set. He reached forward and grabbed Rusk by the throat. With the strength he possessed, it only took little effort to locate his esophagus and rip it out. Blood poured from the open wound down Jacques arm and onto the ground.
Rusk’s face demonstrated astonishment and then shock as he clutched his open throat. He was not able to hold in the blood and his life faded away from him, down his chest and onto the barren ground.
Jims moved to interceded but Babel extended his arm to stop him. Jims was angry but he was just weary enough to obey the gesture of Babel. Jacques smiled at the interaction. “Now that I have your attention, what do you want?”
Jims and Quentin looked over at Babel who stepped forward. “The first thing we want you to do is stop killing our people. We’re not here to fight you. We will if it comes to it but that is not our intentions
here. Now, what is your name?”
Jacques smiled with amusement. “You have come to visit someone whose name you don’t even know? How did you even know I was here?”
Babel detected a slight Cajun accent. “I know because I was told by an old friend of yours. Dr. Julius Babel. He lived hundreds of years ago when all of this started. I am one of his descendants.”
Jacques was surprised and his face demonstrated slight agitation. Jims inhaled and prepared for the man’s next action. Instead, Jacques continued talking. “How do you know of this man? He died many year ago and yet you say you spoke to him? Do you think I am a fool? It was because of Julius that I live here. He gave the people hope and I knew there was none. I could no longer be around them.”
“Julius Babel is my ancestor. He came to me in a vision and I can’t begin to tell you how that exactly happened. But I know how all of this started. I know about the facility where you did experiments. I know that the rest of the world is dead, there is only us. And I know about your device.”
“My device? How would you know about such a thing? Is that why you are here?”
Babel nodded. “There are some bad people who have taken over this world. Your device is needed to stop them.”
Jacques sneered. “Why would I give anything to you? You come to my home. You disturb my solitude. I should kill you all and be done with it.”
“And yet you are standing here talking to me and we are not dead.” Babel challenged. “If you wanted us dead, we would all be dead. But instead we are here with you. You should help us because there is good in the world. The world is dead but it is not dead here. We can grow and live peacefully but not with the people who now rule this world. They need to be killed and this device will help us do it.”
Jacques surprised them by laughing. It was a hollow laugh, one of a man who had existed at the edge of insanity for some time. “You speak of peace and yet you ask me to help kill these people. You have not changed. The world has not changed. Why would I help rebuild a world only to see it destroy itself once again?”
Babel could tell he was not going to be able to reason with Jacques. He would continue his conversation but didn’t think that in in the end it would go their way. They needed that device. So instead, as he spoke he began to consider the next step he must take. “Because we can rebuild this world. You have not been around all that has happened, but I can tell you that there has not been violence for some time. Only in the past few decades has war returned to the world.”
Jacques laughed again. “War has always been with us. It may have taken a break but it always returns. If I help you this, it will only be a matter of time before you ask for my help to stop some other conflict. It will not end and for all of my troubles, nothing will change.” He stopped laughing and his now serious face challenged Babel. “I am asking – very nicely – that you leave my home and do not return. If you do, I will kill all of you. Our conversation has come to an end.”
With that, Jacques turned to walk back into his house. Babel knew that once they returned to their group that Jacques would kill them all. They knew of his existence and had become a threat to him. Their death would not change the world. It was only with the device that they could do that. Babel decided to do something about it. He created a fire and blocked Jacques’ path.
Jacques started at the flames that had risen from the ground in front of him. He did not know how they had occurred but did know he could outrun them. He whipped his head to snarl at Babel – a true animal snarl of a man who had become a solitary savage. Then, he ran away from the flames into the direction of the rest of the people of the village.
Babel anticipated Jacques move and opened a separate wall of fire before Jacques. Jacques turned again and Babel expanded that wall of fire to cover the circumference of area around Jacques. Jacques attempted to run through the fire but Babel increased the depths and intensity of the flames and Jacques screamed in pain as the flames scorched him slightly, blistering his skin.
Babel knew that the man would heal and did not have long before the man broke his containment. He didn’t want to hurt Jacques, he just wanted his cooperation in obtaining the device.
Jacques again attempted to charge the flame but Babel elevated the level of difficulty for him. Jacques squatted as if he might attempt to leap over the flames and Babel drew the flames higher until a twenty foot high circle of flames obscured their view of Jacques. It was in that moment of blindness that Jacques broke free, falling upon the dirt and rolling to extinguish the flames that stole across his clothing and hair.
Babel watched Jacques rise and determined the will of the man in his wild eyes. Babel knew he would not give up and would not assist them. That left him only once choice. But did he want to take that path? What would the others think? Babel knew that as soon as he possessed the upper hand, Jacques would kill all of them. Babel couldn’t let that happen.
Leaders of men live lonely lives and not only bear the responsibility of difficult decisions, they must also live with those decisions afterward. Babel decided he could live with blood on his hands and could not, literally, live if he chose otherwise. With the weight of the decision still heavy on him, moved and increased the flames to surround Jacques.
Jacques voice echoed across the empty sky as screams escaped his terrorized body. The flames consumed him and although in a last effort to survive, he attempted to run from the flames, Babel pushed the flames to purse him.
Quentin and Jims watched on in horror at the man being roasted alive. They felt pity for the man, who had just been living out his life and had not asked for them to come to him. But they also felt justification in the fact that the man who had killed their own people was now dying before them. And what a gruesome death.
Jacques fell to the ground through the flames and his charred body was exposed. Babel experience the same sense of compassion at that moment as his fellowship and with that revelation of pity, extinguished the flames. He waited for the heat to dissipate before approached the fallen survivor of the end the world. Next to Jacques body, he saw the device for which they were seeking.
CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN
Quentin insisted they bury of the body of Jacques. Jims wasn’t sure that they should spend any more time there. He was concerned that the Klopph would pick up Babel’s energy but Babel agreed with Quentin.
After Jacques was in the ground, buried in the backyard of the home he had inhabited since the world ended and began again, Babel found himself staring at the freshly laid earth. Jims and Quentin left him to his thoughts, which were many.
Babel thought on who he had become in such a short time. It wasn’t that long ago that he ran a construction company with his father. His largest concerns then were that a contract might fall through and that he would have to lay off some of his workers. Now, he had become a man who would murder another man to get what he wanted.
Was that the type of man he was? He had always enjoyed zombie flicks and considered while watching them the depths to which men had to resort when facing the walking dead. In the absence of rules and organized civilization, men became animals, doing whatever it took to ensure their survival. Is that now where he was? A man willing to do anything for survival?
Babel thought on the Klopph and with all that had transpired over the past few days, in the excitement of it all he never gave much thought as to who the Klopph were. They were the enemy and they were a threat to the lives of the good people he had met. Babel had killed several of the Klopph already – again, a source of questioning. How had he slipped into someone who could kill so easily so quickly? He had barely been in a fight his entire life and here he was waging a full war against a government of a future world. It was mind numbing.
Babel considered that the Klopph were just men. And those who died left behind a family who mourned their loss. These men were just soldiers under order by a ruthless man. They were little different than the men in armed service from his own time, just trying to make a liv
ing.
Babel stood at Jacques grave for a while longer, pondering his role in this new world and how far he was willing to go. Then he inhaled and looked out across the field to the rest of his companions. They were waiting patiently on him to finish. And when he was done, they would look to him for leadership on what they should do next – on the next group of Klopph they should kill.
Babel’s last thought as he turned from the grave was whether or not Jacques would actually stay dead.
“All set?” Jims asked as Babel joined them. Babel nodded. “Good,” Jims continued, “we have been talking and have decided that the best course of action, now that we have the transport device, would be to transport some our people across the Outerlands. There they will spread the word of what we are attempting and ask them to join us. It will be a revolution.” He paused and looked at Babel for his approval.
Babel took in the enormity of what they were about to undertake. After only a brief internal discourse, he nodded his agreement.
Jims smiled and looked at Quentin. Quentin was nervous but the thought of riding the world of the Keeper fueled his ambition and he nodded for Jims to ensue conferring the plan.
The spoke for nearly an hour and at the end of that time had put together a plan they felt would give them the best odds in succeeding with the coup. They felt the best way to cause disarray and take over was to kill the Keeper. He was well protected but with the device, they could travel to anywhere, including any specific location such as a room that they liked. They knew the Keeper traveled as often as he could to his various palaces. They would use the device to gather intel on which of the palaces that he was traveling and when he would be there. Then, they would transport into that particular palace and they would kill him. As word of his death spread, so would the rebellion.
With a plan in place, they turned their backs on Jacques’ home and headed south.