The Last in Line

by Thom Erb

  Arnie laughed and sat down on the bench. “Yeah, other than that, there’s not much out in the garage area. Although I might be able to fix up one of those trucks. I'd have to take a look and see what's wrong with it and if they have any spare parts.”

  “Well, we might have to check that out. My dad's truck is tough, but it's been through a lot already,” Warren said.

  “It's my belief, young lads, that it's always wise to have a plan B and a plan Zed, if you can manage it.” Elton pushed his hat up on his bushy mane.

  “Amen to that, bro,” Capt. Al agreed while fiddling with the joint in his mouth.

  “Cool. Maybe now we can find some food and get some sleep,” Warren said.

  Sam joined them. “Do you think we should wait for that Moreno, guy? We don't technically own any of this stuff and it is government property.”

  “Hell, no, little lady. He'll be down when he can. I know my Army types. Even through all this hellacious shit, he'll be, ‘Yes, sir, and ‘no, sir,’ `til his ass falls off. I say we locate the kitchen and rustle us up some chow before we have to cook up Fido here.” Capt. Al chortled, his long beard bouncing on his rotund belly.

  “Hey, no way, man!” Warren turned quickly toward the DJ.

  “Not cool, dude,” Arnie said.

  “Mr. Al!” Sam added.

  “For shame, sir,” Elton chided, walking for the kitchen doors. “Please allow me, my young charges. I just so happen to make a delightful plate of bangers and mash. Or if you yanks prefer, how about a scrumptious pb and j sandwich.” He didn’t wait for them to reply and quickened his step in order to beat them to the kitchen. They children needed a victory. Even a small one such as a warm meal would suffice.

  Maico growled.

  Dex laughed and shook his head at Warren.

  Capt. Al held his gloved hands up and smirked. “Now hold up, I was just kiddin'. Don't go getting all your panties in a bunch. While I may have partaken in a bit of canine fare in `Nam, I never had much taste for it. So relax. I'm guessing there might be something left in the kitchen. If you're not going to lynch me, let's go on and check it out.” He pointed toward the door at the far end of the room.

  Sam said, “Still not funny, Mr. Al,” and knelt down and pet Maico’s head. The old hound’s tongue hungout as he obviously enjoyed the attention..

  “That guy isn't quite right,” Dex said.

  “I like the dude, but he's a bit...different.” Arnie said.

  “Aren't we all, man?” Warren asked.

  “Have at it, Doctor Who.” Dex watched the diminutive man sashaying into the kitchen.

  “Who’s Doctor Who?” Arnie asked.

  They laughed.

  Sam smiled at Warren, and started toward the kitchen doors.

  Maico licked Warren's hand and pranced off after Sam.

  “That's okay, Maico. I'm fine. You just go on and, ah, the heck with it.” Warren waved his hand and sat down next to Arnie and Dex.

  “Hey, kind of sucks knowing that your dog has a better shot with the girl than you do, huh?” Dex teased.

  “You remember that old joke about, 'even if you were the last man on earth, I'd never sleep with you?' Funny how they never mentioned yellow-lab mutts.” Arnie barely finished before he lost it, and his raucous laughter bounced around the cinderblock walls of the Armory.

  “You're as funny as a crutch, man. Just hilarious.” Warren shook his head

  Dex slapped him on the back. “Just busting on you, man. No harm, no foul, right?”

  “Wonder if there's any beer in there?” Arnie inquired.

  “Nah, man, I know. I know.” Warren gave Dex a slight smile.

  Dex slapped him again and stood. “Good, `cause I'm pretty sure between Arnie and me here, we're just getting warmed up.”

  Arnie and Dex's laughter rang out, and Maico barked from the kitchen.

  “I cannot count the many ways in which you guys suck.” Warren grimaced.

  It only served to toss gasoline on the fire of teasing, and Warren's friends erupted with another round of laughter.

  “Hey, I think I saw some cots and blankets in that storage room. Want to give me a hand and grab some?” Dex asked.

  Warren shook his head and said, “Sure thing, pal. Maybe I can lock your funny ass inside.”

  They all laughed as Warren held the door open with one hand and flipped his friends the bird with the other. They laughed as they walked down the hallway toward the supply room.

  None of them noticed a quick, flash of white light from the kitchen as they walked out.

  80.

  Cornucopia

  The United States Armory,

  The Kitchen

  Main Street. Rochester, New York

  Ten Minutes Earlier.

  The sound of the teens talking wafted after Elton as he slunk off to explore the kitchen. He knew if they all didn't find some suitable sustenance soon, they'd never be ready to face the horrid trials coming their way. There were two of the three last Children of Light among them, and while Elton was unable to cast the Anima Luceat or Soul-Shine divination spell to confirm it, due to opportunity and available energy deep inside, he knew it to be true. That made finding food and water a higher priority.

  But upon looking at the grotesque visage that was the ravaged kitchen, Elton’s shoulders slumped and a sullen heaviness overwhelmed the keeper.

  The kitchen lay in shambles. A few dead soldiers and civilians lay around the large room and every cupboard after cupboard stood empty save thick cobwebs and angry spiders that made the Keeper's skin crawl.

  “Oh, my. This won't do. No, not in the least.” Elton fought to free his hands of clinging cobwebs and shivered at the thought of the dozens of arachnid eyes watching him from their dark hiding spots.

  The entire kitchen looked like a violent fight over food, or something, ended with much bloodshed and death. Elton took his time tip-toeing through the entwined dead and rotted food, whispering a prayer to the Great Creator that no red eyes welcomed him while he searched.

  He offered a prayer to their passing and wished their souls be blessed and welcomed back in the Aether.

  All around the kitchen, spoiled and rotted food filled the counters and floors. Mold grew on potatoes and old bread. Maggots and flies covered steel-gray beef left tossed during the deadly struggle for survival. Elton felt his heart break a bit when he nearly stepped on a young boy, about eight years of age, who even in death, clutched a rotten apple in his small hands, while a butcher's knife lay buried deep into this tiny forehead.

  “The wicked, wicked evil men do...” He felt growing anger, mixed with a sullen resolution to not let this happen to his new charges. Warren and the girl, Samantha, would not succumb to the same fate. Not as long as he held his breath inside.

  The sounds of conversation from the assembly room flowed into the kitchen and Elton knew he didn't have much time. They would want answers to this whole mess soon and he'd have to be able to reply to them. That thought alone sent deep ripples down his spine, nearly causing him to pee in his breeches. He also knew they needed food.

  “Well, a fine pickle this is.” He looked around the room that looked more like a gruesome crime scene than a kitchen.

  A small shaft of light broke through one of the windows and shone on a clear spot on a butcher-block table. Elton ran to it, dropped a satchel onto it and brought out a small bag. He dropped three seeds onto the table top and swung the water-skin off his shoulder, carefully letting loose three drops of water over them.

  The voices were getting closer. “Bullocks!” he said. He unsheathed the dagger from inside his coat and pricked his forefinger. One droplet of blood mixed with the other components on the old table top.

  “I beseech you, oh Great Creator, bless us with the glorious bounties our world has to offer, in order for us to serve your will. Into the Aether, I pray. Amen.” Elton finished and slammed his bleeding hand onto the pile of components and a white flash filled the room. Elton collap
sed to the floor.

  Regaining his balance, Elton slowly stood, then smiled, looking over the pristinely clean kitchen and the abundant array of fresh vegetables, bread and meat that had been blessed upon them. “Glory, be. Thank you. Thank you.” He set to work putting the perishables in the large refrigerator. He couldn’t stop smiling over the bountiful feast was further proof of the true splendor and kindness that was the Great Creator.

  Once finished, Elton peered out the door to the gymnasium and flinched as Samantha and the Captain were about moments away from reaching the kitchen. A door to the left stood open and Elton saw the light from the gym, ushering him a stealthy escape.

  ”Just in time,” Elton thought, as the teen and DJ entered the kitchen.

  Elton smiled and his craftiness and patted himself on the back and would joined them, with none-the-wiser.

  “You cheeky devil, you.” He told himself.

  81.

  Getting Better

  The United States Armory,

  Main Street. Rochester, New York

  Sam and Capt. Al entered the Armory's kitchen and were completely surprised to find a refrigerator stocked with fresh food. Maico played the expert of escort. All kinds of delicious food: ripe tomatoes, lettuce, other vegetables, and even raw hamburgers and steaks filled the fridge and overstuffed pantries of the large galley.

  The glow of the large metallic fridge shone brightly on Sam’s face, and she recoiled from the intensity. The thought of eating meat made her stomach churn with bile and disgust. Capt. Al. reached in between the door and her and snagged an apple and bit into the red delicious with a snap of the skin.

  “Hey, this stuff is fresh. Damn,” Capt. Al said with a mouthful.

  It surprised Sam that, if this place had people living in it, so much food would still be here. But she didn’t have the energy to question much and decided to make up a platter for everyone. It had been a while since they all had eaten, and strength was an important thing to have right now.

  “It all looks like it was picked right from the field.” Sam quickly assessed the amount and quality of food, and was dumbstruck. “How can this be? I mean, it's been months since everything happened. How in the world can everything be so...” She looked to Capt. Al, who looked like a squirrel in the fall, packed with fresh biscuits in his cheeks.

  “What?” Capt. Al shrugged his shoulders and smiled, tiny bits of bread shrapnel spraying out as he half-laughed, half-spoke. “Well, ya know what they say about never look a gift horse in the mouth, don’t ya?”

  Sam shook her head and laughed lightly. “You big hog. You want to save some for everybody else, geesh?” She saw a metal cart along one of the walls and pushed it to the table in the center of the room, then began making a large platter of food.

  “Sorry. Been living on cold coffee and candy from the vending machines, I couldn't help myself.” Capt. Al whipped the crumbs from his beard and slyly snuck a big piece of hamburger to Maico, who hid behind the DJ's wheelchair and wolfed it down.

  “I saw that, too. Not nice,” Sam admonished with a slight grin.

  Capt. Al ruffled the dog's mane. “Dammit, she's onto us, noble hound. What shall we do?”

  Maico responded with a sharp bark and panted, his pink tongue bouncing with each breath.

  “Okay, help me finish loading up this cart so we can bring the others some food. What do you think?” She gave the blushing DJ a wide-eyed glare and piled a couple loaves of Italian bread on a platter filled with cheese. “If that's not too much of a hassle?”

  A harsh flash of lightning washed the kitchen to accentuate her point, and Sam couldn't help from laughing.

  “Well, pooch, the gods have spoken. No more chow for you or this old cat until we get to work.” Capt. Al wheeled over and began putting plates and silverware on the nearly filled cart.

  Maico tagged along wagging his tail and rubbing up against Sam’s leg. The dog is cute, Sam thought. It made her think of his master.

  The loud metallic sound of the slamming door out in the gym grabbed caused Sam to jump. A sea of crumbs fell from Al’s beard and mouth as he whipped his head in the direction of the noise.

  Sam heard Warren and the other’s voices and put the final touches on the cart. “They must be back. Come on, let's go surprise them.” Sam pushed the cart through the large doors that led to the assembly hall.

  “On your six, kiddo. Let's boogie, furface,” Capt. Al ordered and followed Sam and the food.

  82.

  Eat Your Heart Out

  The United States Armory,

  Main Street. Rochester, New York

  Warren and Dex came, arms filled with folded cots, blankets and pillows. The heavy security door slammed behind them. After setting it all down, Warren reached back and turned the large lever to lock the thick security door. They both smiled as they saw the food laid out before them, and eagerly snatching up random bits.

  “Ah, that looks wonderful.” Warren's stomach growled as Sam and Capt. Al brought out tray after tray of delicious food into the assembly area and filled up two whole tables. Warren stared in starved amazement.

  Arnie said, “Warren, I haven't seen this kind of spread since your Ma had us over for Thanksgiving. Wow!”

  “No kidding. This is amazing,” Dex said, rubbing his hands together. “Ma would've been impressed, for sure.”

  Warren just nodded. All his close friends called his mother Ma. She had a bad habit of taking in neighborhood strays, and sometimes, it wasn't just cats and dogs. Warren's house seemed to have been a safe haven for all his friends, and his mom treated them all like her sons. His Dad, however, liked some of his friends but didn't care much for Dex. Warren was pretty certain it was more about Barry. Warren's father never had much respect for deadbeats, druggies, or pathetic Nancy-boys who couldn't hack it in the military. All those wonderful qualities were rolled up disgustingly inside Barry Lee. While Warren and his father never agreed on much, their low opinion of his best friend's brother had them not only on the same page, but even in the same library.

  “I figured you guys would be hungry,” Sam said. “I know I sure am.”

  Warren caught her cheeks blushing pink and her eyes fluttering as Dex got closer. She quickly looked down and handed them plates. “Thanks, Sam.”

  “I thought I was starving before, man, but I could eat a horse.” Warren could sense the embarrassment on her face and jealousy burned in him, and he hated himself for it. He shot Dex a look, and then went back to Sam. Now is not the time for this shit, he thought. He grabbed a bottle of water and a plate with some fruit, bread, and cheese on it then went and sat next to Capt. Al, who had wheeled up to one end of the green picnic style tables.

  Capt. Al smiled at the pile of food. “Ya know, I lived on snakes and grubs back in ‘Nam but that shit gets old quick. Thank you, good lady,” he chortled as he grabbed some cheese and a couple of pieces of half frozen bread. Then he shoved it into his bearded mouth, making happy noises all the while. A cascade of crumbs flit about the air and some landed and tangled in his thick beard.

  Maico sat down between Warren and Capt. Al. Warren knew the shrewd old hound picked the best spot. “You'll get yours, buddy. Promise.”

  “Oh.” Sam held her hand up and fetched something from the bottom of the cart.

  Sam came around the table and placed a bowl of water and a plate full of bread and meat on the floor. Maico’s tail went crazy, and he lapped Sam's outstretched hand, then commenced to eating. His tail never stopped wagging the entire time.

  “You'll have a best friend now, for sure,” Warren said, grinning.

  Capt. Al said through a mouthful of cheese, “Too late, bro. That ship sailed in the kitchen.” He finished with a chuckle and kept eating.

  Warren noticed the DJ's use of bro always sounded more like brah, but didn't know why.

  Dex was oblivious, as always, and piled his plate high. Warren noticed, but Dex never stopped eating.

  “Now everyone, hold on
. Stop! This isn't a prison.” Sam said.

  Warren and everyone else froze.

  “We aren't animals. We say grace before eating,” she said and glared at Capt. Al. “Even at the end of days, Mr. Al.”

  Warren watched the DJ bow his head and pull a huge piece of bread out of his mouth and place it on his plate.

  Dex kept eating until Warren kicked him under the table. He looked up at Warren, then to Sam, and placed down his glass of water. “Okay, okay. Damn, dude.”

  “I know we've all been through so much these past few months. So much death, brutality, darkness. I just think we owe it to God to offer thanks for leading us here.” Sam smiled at everyone, and Warren caught himself blushing again. It was met with a swift kick to his leg under the table.

  Dex made kissy-faces at him.

  Warren flipped him off from behind the big pitcher of water on the table.

  “Hey, knock off the grab-ass shit, guys. She's trying to pray. Damn,” Arnie interjected, his face in a fierce scowl.

  “Right.” Warren nodded and felt guilty for being disrespectful to Sam for all her hard work. Sorry, Sam.”

  Sam cleared her throat. “Dear Father, we offer thanks—”

  “Hey, where's Elton?” Warren asked and looked around.

  They all seemed to realize this at the same time and looked at each other, and then about the large room. Warren felt horrible he hadn't noticed his absence until then.

  “Hey, Elton...” Warren looked about and saw Elton slowly walking toward them from the far end of the room. His shoulders were hunched over the rest of his body, and his messy hair hung down over his thin face. He sat motionless. The spastic flashes of light from the overhead lights cast a long shadow on the shiny floor.

  “You okay, man?” Warren asked, looking the Keeper over.

  Elton didn’t respond as he drew closer.

  “Hey...,” Warren said.

  The dejected form of the strange guy with the big funny hat looked pathetic.

  “Look at all this awesome food Sam found. Come on, let’s go eat. You have to be hungry.” Warren knelt and grabbed Elton by the shoulders, and he found them to be trembling and covered in sweat. He leaned his large frame in and spoke in a soft voice.