Apocalyptic Organ Grinder

by William Todd Rose

  “Have you nothing else to say for yourself, clear skin?”

  “I will do my duty to my family and community, I will serve mankind and cleanse the world of blight …”

  “So be it.” The female elder proclaimed with a sigh. “In accordance with the way of The People, the Council of Elders commit you to the hands of Death. May your ancestors always walk with you.”

  Tanner crossed his arms over his chest and looked up at the stars for what he suspected to be the last time. He only hoped the members of his community would ensure that Shayla knew her father hadn’t died without cause or reason, that she would grow up with a certain amount of pride for who he’d been.

  “I will give my life,” he said to the heavens, “so that others might live.”

  VI.

  As the sentence was pronounced, Lila touched the cog shaped pendant dangling from her neck and allowed herself the hint of a smile. She could feel Tolek with her; his presence was like a warmth that spread through her bosom, a gentle tingling that cleansed her spirit of anger and resentment. After nearly two years, the justice his soul deserved was finally at hand and peace would be his.

  “My husband,” she whispered, “it is right that you are here.”

  She realized, of course, that in all likelihood this wasn’t the same Sweeper who’d slain her mate. This one, she believed, was a little taller. His shoulders were more broad and there was a different air about him, a pride that couldn’t be squelched by mere capture. When told he was about to die, he didn’t fall onto his knees and plead for his life. No tears streamed from his eyes. He simply looked into the sky and repeated the same words again and again in a voice she associated with prayer. If things were different, he would have fit right in with the hunters of the tribe of Clay.

  Shame warmed Lila’s cheeks and she clenched the cog so tightly that it dug into her fingers. It wasn’t right. She shouldn’t admire the man who’d butchered Myra and Jarnell, shouldn’t afford him even the smallest bit of esteem. He was bloodthirsty and merciless, a killer whose heart held no room for compassion. Even now, with the end at hand, he was unrepentant. If allowed to live, how many more would he slaughter? How many of her brothers and sisters would fall before the might of his weapon? He was the rabid wolf, the deranged raider whose thrived upon bloodshed and tears. His death would be symbolic, a gesture that would not go unnoticed to all of The People who’d been cut down by his kind.

  “Forgive me, my ancestors, for I have wronged you in thought, if not deed.”

  Snapping her attention back to the ceremony, Lila realized that she had missed most of the official decrees. She’d been so lost in thought that she hadn’t even heard the appeals to the Great Spirit, the request for Her hand to guide the Blade of Judgment, for the blow to be swift and decisive.

  The ring of people surrounding the clear skin shifted, closing in ranks so that they now formed two straight lines of bodies instead of a circle. Since she was the one who brought the crimes to the attention of the Elders, Lila took her rightful place by their side and held her spear high in salute.

  At the far end of the corridor created by the rows of her people, a small figure appeared. Silhouetted by a campfire at its back, it walked forward slowly. Its hands were held in front of its chest, palms turned skyward as if in supplication, and as the shadow grew closer it became obvious that the Blade of Judgment lay across those tiny hands.

  In accordance with the Way of The People, the blade was to be delivered unto the Elders by the one who’d known the least amount of years in this life. As this youngling eased in the flickering pools of light and shadow cast by torches, his features began to resolve from the darkness. His face was round and pudgy with red hair that swayed against the tops of his shoulders. A mask of freckles smattered the bridge of his nose and his blue eyes twinkled in the firelight like a pair of gemstones. At three and half years old, his pudgy body had not yet been marked by the infection The People carried within their blood. That would come later, when the hormones of puberty awakened the Gabriel Virus and forced the blisters to rise from the skin. But for now he was angelic and unmarred, an example of perfection in an flawed world.

  As she watched him, Lila felt herself standing a little taller. With her shoulders thrown back slightly, she struggled to restrain the broad smile that threatened to creep across her face. He was so handsome and serious, the Blade Bearer, both innocent and regal at the same time.

  “Our son.” Lila silently said to the spirit of her husband. “Asham will be strong and virtuous, like his father. He will bring us honor.”

  The little boy walked so slowly that it almost seemed as though he feared moving too quickly would be an affront to the tribe. His eyes stared at the dagger in his hands, studying the shiny silver blade that disappeared into a hilt of polished mahogany, and as his feet shuffled along the dusty path the men and women of the tribe lowered their heads with his passing.

  The drums had begun now. Slow and plodding, the deep notes echoed through the silence of the night. Whether intentional or subconsciously, Asham’s steps fell in rhythm with the beat. Each time his small foot struck the ground, a boom resonated so loudly that it seemed as if the very earth were quaking beneath his heels.

  “It is right that our son carries the Blade.” Lila mused. “Tolek will be avenged and Asham will go into life knowing he has honored his father above all things.”

  The Clear skin no longer looked at the sky. He glanced over his shoulder at the boy approaching him and Lila wondered if the man had made his peace. Had he given himself over to the Great Spirit so that he could find rest and respite when freed from this mortal world?

  Again, Lila felt the warmth of embarrassment and she averted her eyes so that her son would not witness the dishonor on his mother’s face. Let this clear skin walk eternity with feet pricked by thorns and with maggots writhing in his hair; let him know what it meant to feel his body decay, to know the ravages of Time and never be free from the torment it wrought. He would wander the caves and mountains, shunned by all things, never to see the faces of his ancestors again. It was what he deserved, what he’d brought upon himself by leading a life of disgrace and infamy. It was just.

  By the time Lila raised her eyes again, the boy had neared the clear skin. It would be soon. The time of reckoning was close at hand. Within moments, the drums would cease as the Elders took the Blade from her son; they would then walk to the murderous stranger and, with a final blessing, slit open his throat

  Seconds before it happened, Lila tensed. It was almost as though she sensed the man’s intent, as if the universe had presented her with a split-second glimpse of things to come.

  As Asham passed the prisoner’s side, the Clear skin sprang into a blur of movement. Within the span of a second, the man had snatched the dagger from her son’s palms and spun around. The little boy cried out and writhed like a snared animal, but the Sweeper’s strong arm pinned the child against his chest. With the Blade of Judgment pressed against Asham’s throat, the wild-eyed clear skin whirled in quick circles.

  Lila roared and rushed forward with her spear at the ready as murmurs of panic spread through the congregation like a forest fire. Her advance, however, quickly ended when the stranger bellowed.

  “Back! Stay back or I swear to God, I’ll kill him!”

  As if to demonstrate his seriousness, the man pressed the blade even more tightly against Asham’s throat.

  The child’s eyes pleaded silently to his mother and Lila pictured herself hurling her spear, the shaft sinking into this man’s throat so deeply that it pierced the back of his neck. But what if she missed? Rage trembled her hands and tainted her vision and judgment.

  “Let him go!” she commanded. “He is a child. Have you no honor at all?”

  “I said back the fuck off!”

  Lila could see it in the clear skin’s eyes. The glaze of madness and desperation. Pupils wide and dark, like two black holes leading directly into the void where a soul should
have existed.

  He would really do it.

  Even if it meant his own death, he would kill her child where they stood.

  VII.

  A long time ago, we were safe from the evil Spewers. Children like you played in the forests and swam in the streams without worry or fear. Even way back then, there were still Sweepers, but their job was to journey into the cities to search for food, weapons, and supplies. Everyone was happy and all of the Settlers lived in one, big kingdom called Hope.

  Just outside of Hope was another, smaller, kingdom that had no name and this is where the Spewers lived. The Spewers, however, were not as happy as everyone else. Like piggies, they lived in mud and filth and spent their days yelling bad words at the happy settlers nearby. In the beginning, the people of Hope tried to be nice to them. They brought them bits of food that were left over from feasts and gave them old blankets and clothes. But when these nice people threw the supplies over the fence surrounding the nameless kingdom, the Spewers rushed to get them. Like wolves fighting over a scrap of meat, they turned on each other and, in their frenzy, the blisters covering their bodies burst so violently that it sprayed right through the fence and all over the people who had so thoughtfully brought them these gifts.

  As we all know, this meant that the magic liquid the evil wizard created was now in the bodies of those who’d tried to help the ungrateful Spewers. Not knowing what to do, these people decided to keep it a secret, hoping that maybe things would be different in Hope and they would be spared the agonizing death contained in the Spewers bodies. But this, dear children, was the wrong thing to do.

  The nice people got very, very sick but they still tried to hide what had happened to them. They shared food and water with others, they coughed and sneezed, and made babies with their wives and husbands. But, within days, they could conceal their secret no more: it was obvious to everyone that they were turning into Spewers themselves.

  The king of Hope met with his most trusted advisors and talked long into the night. They still remembered how the evil wizard’s magic had spread through the Old World and were afraid for the people of their kingdom. Though it was not an easy decision to make, the King and his advisors called all of the Sweepers to them and gave them their instructions.

  That night, the Sweepers went to the homes of those who’d been tainted by the Spewers’ evil poison. With heavy hearts, they ended the suffering of the sick, ensuring that no one else would be blighted by the evil curse that fallen upon their people. That, however, was just the first part of their plan, for the king and his advisors realized that in order for their people to always be safe, there could be no Spewers.

  Before this could happen, however, there was a great crash and the entire kingdom of Hope rushed to their windows to see what had made such a horrible sound. Looking out over the fields, they saw in the moonlight that the walls of the kingdom with no name had fallen. Armed with sticks and stones, the hateful Spewers ran across the field of grass with murderous cries rumbling in their throats, intent on taking everything that the citizens of Hope had worked so hard to achieve.

  The King of Hope was a wise man and he knew that the Spewers would pollute the pure blood of his subjects if they were allowed to breach the kingdom. His people would become sick and die and it would be just like The End all over again. He loved his people so much that he simply couldn’t allow this to happen, so the citizens of Hope took their scavenged weapons and opened fire on the Spewer army.

  Even though many dark hearted Spewers fell to the ground, some actually made it inside the kingdom, where they bashed open the heads of innocents with their rocks and stole everything they could get their greedy hands on. The brave Sweepers scoured Hope, hoping to stop them before their toxins could claim the lives of other innocent settlers. But it wasn’t to be.

  Even though the Spewers eventually realized they were fighting a battle they couldn’t win and retreated into the darkness of the forest, the ones who’d made it inside the walls of Hope had already spread their sickness to those they met. Once again, in the days to come, the infected had to be cut from the flock so that others might live.

  By this time, the king realized that his people could not live safely as one large community. With so many people all in one place, the sickness easily spread among them and it would only be a matter of time before his subjects would all be impure. If allowed to continue, mankind would disappear from the face of the earth, never to be seen again.

  This was something he couldn’t allow to happen. Calling his advisors again, he instructed them to go out into the world and build their own communities. Each would take a Sweeper to help protect them and the cities they made would be large enough to support themselves, but still small enough that contagion could be quickly stopped if it reared its ugly head. Also realizing that remnants of the Spewers still crawled through the forests, the king charged the Sweepers with the task of rooting them out. Once the last Spewer no longer threatens mankind, then all of the communities will rejoin into a single kingdom again and Hope will rule the earth.

  And that, dear children, is why we live in scattered settlements to this very day.

  VIII.

  The thunderous drums had been replaced with the frantic pounding of Tanner Kline’s heart. Though his body ached with every move, he knew the squirming child was his only hope of ever seeing his daughter again. So, he pushed the stinging and throbbing into the far recesses of his mind, allowing recklessness to surge through his system like flood waters from a burst dam.

  “I’ll do it, I swear to God I will.” His voice sounded foreign, even to his own ears. He barked the words in a guttural rasp that bordered on slurring as they passed through his swollen lips. “Stay away!”

  The crowd around him had initially surged forward, but now they shuffled backward. Their faces, though only glimpsed for a fraction of a second, beamed hostility as hundreds of eyes bore into his soul. The outrage rolled off them like heat. Waves of malice blasted over his body and his suit crinkled as the child thrashed and kicked. But the hatred burning the most intently came from the savage called Lila.

  The woman looked as though it took all of her will to keep from lunging at him and ripping him to shreds with her teeth and nails. Her entire body shivered with pent-up aggression and wrath distorted her features, pulling her face into the long caricature of a demon. The eldest of the Spewers had their palms facing him, as if showing that they meant no threat, and they babbled in quick bursts of words that were lost on Tanner. It didn’t matter what they said: without his hostage, he was a dead man. He only salvation was banked on the hope that these savages valued their children as dearly as his own people.

  He eased away from the Spewers but continued spinning in circles, more slowly now so that dizziness wouldn’t tumble him to the ground. At the edge of the village, and cloaked mostly in shadow, was the forest. Within its darkness, he just might have a chance. If he could make it into the trees then perhaps he could find his way back home. If nothing else, he would be away from these infectious animals and would have a moment to think, to plot out his next course of action.

  The child sank its teeth into Tanner’s forearm, but the pain was nothing more than a discomfort compared to the torture of being drug through the forest. In retaliation, he squeezed the little monster more tightly, allowing the crook of his arm to crush the air from its lungs. Gasping for breath, the child opened its mouth again as Tanner continued dragging it toward the edge of the woods.

  The tribe of savages followed him with faltering steps, keeping just enough distance between them so he wouldn’t feel threatened.

  “Let him go! Face me with honor and die like a man, coward!”

  It was that mangy bitch again. Something told him he’d have to watch her more closely than the rest. She’d already proven to be a slippery little harpy with that whole net trick. But he’d be damned if he played into her hands again.

  “I’m getting out of here,” Tanner shouted, “and
if anyone follows, this little bastard is as good as dead, you hear me?”

  He was close enough to the forest now that he could feel its coolness against his back. His eyes darted from face to face, only to return time and time again to Lila. She stood in the forefront of the group with her knuckles white as bone as she clutched her spear. Perhaps it was born of stress, but the rest of the crowd had blisters erupting like tapped wells. Infection spewed into the air and oozed across their flesh, contaminating the air with that unmistakable stench.

  But then darkness enveloped Tanner. The torches and campfires of the village were nothing more than a wavering glow glimpsed between the trees and the sky was blotted out by a canopy of leaves.

  With as much strength as he could muster, Tanner hoisted the child up and tucked him beneath his armpit like a parcel. And then, with no clear direction or plan, he ran.

  He had no doubt the Spewers would follow. It wouldn’t take long for them to realize he would never let the child go. Once enough distance had been put between him and the village, he’d have no more need for a hostage and they’d know this. So it was important to cover as much ground as possible in the least amount of time.

  The problem was, the kid wasn’t content being a passenger on this ride. The little brat writhed and twisted, kicked his legs like a swimmer, and clawed at the slick fabric of Tanner’s suit. His voice, shrill with terror, cried out for his mother between blubbering sobs and his constant struggles shifted Tanner’s balance. The man stumbled and scrambled as he forced his way through thickets and the frenetic beat of his heart thumped painfully in his temples.