The Last in Line

by Thom Erb

  “Elton, are you okay man?” Warren knew the answer but asked it anyway.

  “Yes, indeed, young lad. I am.” Warren squeezed harder. “I'm just so bloody tired.”

  “Sam has prepared a nice platter of food for us man. So, come on, let’s get a bite while we still have fresh chow to eat. You never know when we will have fresh tomatoes and apples again, man,” Warren encouraged Elton. His mother was a very compassionate person and always instilled the virtue of caring for others. Compassion was at the forefront of every lesson she taught her young boys. It was something her husband wasn’t so good at, so she made an extra effort to teach her sons.

  “Perhaps you're right, Master Brennan. I am a wee bit famished.”

  Warren met Elton and helped him to the table, where joined the others. It looked almost like a twisted version of Norman Rockwell’s Thanksgiving painting He held Elton’s arm as he sat down on the other side of the table next to Sam. He smiled at him and patted him on the shoulder and went back to his seat next to Dex. Warren caught Sam looking at him. He felt odd and didn't know what to do so he sat down.

  After a moment, Warren glanced at Sam and smiled. He knew this emotion all too well. Only he would take a simple action, such as sitting next to him, as a romantic one. He just met her. How could he have any feelings other than survivor's guilt? How he could even think of romance at a time like this flabbergasted even him. But there it was, out in the open. It didn’t matter that the world was falling apart and zombies walked the earth in search of human flesh, and strange characters were popping up and casting spells just like in his fantasy role-playing game. All those base emotions of love, caring, and compassion held fast and climbed above all the other feelings and thoughts. He couldn’t understand it and didn’t pretend to. He shot her a glance, her dark hair hung across her freckled face, and he quickly forced himself to concentrate on the piece of mozzarella cheese on his plate.

  It didn’t even compare. “You were in mid-prayer...sorry.”

  “Right.” Sam nodded and finished her blessing for the meal.

  83.

  Beyond the Realm of Death

  The United States Armory,

  Main Street. Rochester, New York

  The Mortem Eques coldly waited and watched the gruesome sight from the safety of the darkest shadows. Now was not the time, the master Knight assured his team.

  84.

  So Many Tears

  The United States Armory,

  Main Street. Rochester, New York

  They all sat and ate for what seemed like hours. Not a sign of the Army corporal or any other living person appeared to greet them. Warren knew it was because it had been weeks, maybe a month, he lost track, but despite the obviously awkward, missing Army soldier, they finally felt safe and the world outside couldn’t interfere, at least for now, and they were going to enjoy it. They needed to truly relax and not worry about some zombie rushing out to eat their brains and flesh.

  “Um, this is really good chow,” Dex nodded in Sam’s direction, half-coughing on his bread. The tension in the air was replaced by the short-lived calmness and serenity they all needed. “So, Sam, what’s your story?” Dex asked. He wiped his mouth on his arm, and took a pull from a bottle of water and looked the young woman directly in the face. Warren copied the same face and stared at him.

  Sam took a drink and waited a bit before responding to Dex. “Not much to tell really.” Her gaze slowly aimed at her feet while she absently played with the food on her plate. “I’m guessing it’s not much different than you guys. I’m...was in eleventh grade. Worked part-time and helped take care of my Abuelo and brother and sis—” The words hitched in her chest and she swallowed hard.

  Warren looked up and saw a tear begin to roll down her flushed cheek. It didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to know full-well what troubled her.

  They all waited for a few moments to pass. The only sounds were that of the chug of the large generator and the strangled sobs coming from Sam.

  “I lost my family too.” Warren offered. Making sure not to look at Dex.

  Arnie added, “Guess we all did.” He sniffled. “Sucks.”

  “It is terrible a time for the entire world, my children. A dark tragedy has befallen each and every one of us. But we will persevere. It was what we humans have always done...” Elton paused. “...After all.”

  Dex finally said, “Sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s okay. Guess with running from those things out there, I kinda didn’t have much time to really think about it.” Sam wiped her tears away.

  “Yeah.” Warren and Dex echoed each other. They turned, and both let a small smile escape.

  “Anywho, the food is damn good. Hell, I almost feel bad that Army dude is missing it,” Arnie said washing down another sandwich with another sandwich.

  “Thanks, guys. I had a lot of help from Maico and Mr. Al,” Sam said, nodding with a smile at the captain, who was sneaking yet another scrap to Maico. “I was actually surprised to find so much fresh food left after all this time.”

  Warren caught a small, barely visible grin break across Elton’s thin face. Then it fell away as quickly as it appeared when the diminutive man caught Warren looking at him. That’s one weird dude. Warren thought and went back to eating.

  “Bah, me too, kid. Never trust the government when the poop hits the water sprinkler,” Capt. Al said. “But this time, they did pretty damn good.”

  Warren enjoyed the meal and watched all of them talking. He never thought he'd be able to sit down and eat a warm meal in safety with other living people again. He took it all in and said a private thank you to whatever might be out there. It is truly a blessing indeed, he thought and drained the last of his water.

  Dex said, “Hey, almost forgot. We found the locker room with actual warm running water so I call dibs on the first shower.” His thin lips broke into a crooked smirk.

  “Shower?” Sam's face lit up.

  Warren added, “Yup, and there are some clothes in the lockers, too. Well, for some of us,” Warren absently said before he realized none of them were big enough to fit him. “Hey, it's hell being the fat kid.” He laughed it off as the self-pity parade marched on.

  “Amen, brother,” Arnie high-fived Warren and ate another piece of bread.

  “Ohhh, stop.” Sam said. She titled her head and her raven-black hair fell over one eye. Warren felt his heart about to go on strike. Not now, you idiot. What the hell are you thinking? The world is filled with millions of walking dead people with the munchies. How the hell could he even feel anything resembling an apocalypse crush? He looked away.

  “Well, bro, with the way things are headed, I'm guessing the apocalypse is going to be one helluva diet plan for all of us.” Capt. Al said, patting his beer belly. As his laughter turned into a thick round of smoker's cough.

  “No kidding,” Arnie said through a mouthful, “I have to have lost at least ten pounds by now. You too, Warren. We keep this up and we’ll be hot dates for the apocalypse prom.”

  They all joined in the laughter, and Warren couldn’t disagree with Arnie, he did feel lighter, but he still wrestled with the way he looked. But, for tonight, he would enjoy this moment. No one knew what was going to happen next or where they were going to go. Right now, all that didn’t matter. For this moment, this night, they were safe. They had food, heat, a safe place to crash and somewhere, they had running water, and that meant showers.

  Who would have known how much a nice warm shower would have meant to them a few short months ago, but now, it meant the world, and they were going to enjoy every last second of the precious gift.

  * * *

  Everyone had showered and changed and gathered back down in the assembly area where Warren, Dex, and Arnie had set up what resembled a wagon train encampment. “It's just like the settler's used to do it,” Arnie said with a wide grin on his thinly, mustached face. Arnie even found a stack of sleeping bags blankets and pillows from one of the supply
rooms and issued them out to everyone.

  Warren and Dex checked and rechecked all points of entry, and once satisfied they were secure, they returned to the circle and joined the others. There was a circle of sleeping bags, surrounded by rows of tables. Warren watched Arnie strut back to his spot and plop down like a proud peacock.

  The burning questions never left Warren's mind all through dinner, the security check and weird conversation about the ever-elusive Corp. Moreno. Where the hell was he? Why are the dead rising and eating people? Who and what are the Children of Light; and who is Elton Habersham, and what role does he play in this horror-flick-turned reality?

  85.

  Child of Fire

  The United States Armory,

  Main Street. Rochester, New York

  Once they were all settled in, Maico lay down next to Warren and placed his head on his lap. Warren cleared his throat and was about to speak when Elton gathered what energies he had left, then stood.

  Absently, he drank from his flask and continued.

  “I’m sure you all have many questions, and I do believe now is the best time to tell you all of the deep shite we are all in.” Elton ran a hand through his insane mane and looked around the circle.

  “I have been sent by, let’s say, a very powerful being who wishes to see all of you live. And it’s a good thing I came upon you when I did, or my trip may have been in vain,” he said. He took a swig from his flask and smiled again. “Ah, the nectar of the gods.” He looked around for a follow-up question and took another sip.

  “What being are you talking about?” Dex jumped in. His question weighing heavy with skepticism for the answer.

  “Dude, are you a wizard or an angel or something?” Arnie asked.

  “What? Are you high, man?” Dex scoffed.

  “I wouldn’t say I’m an angel, young lad. A wizard? Well...maybe.” Elton's round glasses rested at the crest of his thin nose. He pushed them back into place. Elton smiled. The lights from the ceiling cast a soft light on the stranger’s face, and he seemed a bit stronger than his first impression.

  “So, who are you then, mister, uh, Haber—.” Arnie stammered over the foreign pronunciation.

  “It’s Habersham. Elton Habersham.” Elton smiled again. “Sir Elton Reese Habersham the Third, to be exact.” He bowed deeply.

  The light framed them all and kept out the dark corners of the room.

  “Who are you exactly?” Warren asked. His brow creased. He wanted to know the answer and unknowingly, leaned in to hear it.

  “Well, that is a good question. A good one indeed, lad,” Elton responded.

  “Yeah, what trip? Where did you come from?” Dex inquired.

  “You cast spells. How, what?” Warren asked.

  Elton held his hand up to slow the flurry of questions and smiled. He took a breath and offered his response.

  “I came from England, originally. Well, actually Scotland, to be quite precise,” he answered. “It was a rough trip, truth be told, but I’m here, I’m no worse for wear,” he added.

  “Scotland? Really?” Dex repeated in disbelief. “There haven’t been any planes flying for months, man. How the hell did you get here?” He leaned intently forward toward Elton. “Teleport?” Dex laughed.

  “That’s one hell of a jaunt,” Warren said. “You sound like that Monty Python dude,” he added with a look of recognition.

  “Yeah, you do. John Cleese,” Sam added.

  Sam softly smiled. “The Minister of Silly Walks!” They all kind of smiled and lightly laughed.

  “Hmm, while I do not know of this Monty Cleese fellow or his television program, I would assume he sounds like me,” Elton cleared his throat.

  “As to the distance of the trip, it was three-thousand and two-hundred-twenty-two miles to be exact.” Elton said and crossed his arms. His wild hair moved in a chaotic life of its own. It reminded Warren of a hippie Medusa.

  “Now, how in the hell did you pull that off?” Dex asked. “ His disbelief turned to outright indignation.

  “Yes. As a matter of fact, Dexter, I did teleport. If you’d let me finish, I shall tell you everything I know.” Elton’s tone took a sharp turn.

  “Bullshit, man!” Said Dex.

  “Hey man,” Warren touched Dex's arm to calm him down. Dex was never like this. The world had fallen into a dark nightmare and was taking its toll on everyone and Dex wore it on his youthful, freckled face. What the hell happened to him? Warren thought.

  Dex’s face returned to an aggravated flushed look and he turned back to Elton.

  “Hey, guys, chill out,” Warren spoke up. “Damn, man, he saved our asses back there. Don’t you think if he meant to kill us or whatever that he would have done so by now?” He asked, winded, and his face grew flush with exasperation. He never liked confrontation, and it always made him uncomfortable.

  “Warren’s right, guys. We haven’t even thanked him for his help. Why don’t we let him explain?” Sam said.

  “No, that is quite alright, good lady. I understand. The world has turned on its axis and now death and evil rules the day. Being skeptical is perfectly understandable. Point of fact, it’s a wonderful survival instinct. You all have been through tremendous and horrible things. I’m here to help. My life is to serve the light. To serve you and all of the Children of Flame.” He smiled widely, and his glasses scrunched up his thin nose.

  Dex’s body language slackened, but Warren knew him all too well and stood at the ready for the next round of questioning.

  “While it will be hard for you to fathom, as I told you when we met in that god awful school, I used magic to get here,” Elton finally answered.

  “Now I realize that may be a shock to you, but if I’m reading you right, you two know a thing or two about magic,” Elton spoke to Dex and Warren. They glanced at one another in confusion and turned back to Elton.

  “What do you mean?” Warren asked.

  “That game you both play, Dungeons & Dragons, is it?” Elton inquired. He looked to both of them for recognition.

  “Yeah, we play D&D. What the hell does that have to do with you traveling almost four hundred fucking miles and the dead walking and eating the fuckin’ Earth?” Dex snorted.

  “I used spells. Well, that and a few handy stones and trinkets helped me on my way,” he added.

  Warren and the rest of them stared at him stupefied.

  “Well, along with many of the great thinkers, scientists, artists, and authors, the creators of the game you are so fond of, they were onto something. One of them was a member of our order and sought to make his fame and fortune in the role-playing game industry. Well, in hindsight, he may have been the bright one.” Elton laughed. He sheepishly looked about the room.

  “Okay, for the sake of argument, you got here, but why exactly? You talk as though you know some great secret. If you do, then for God’s sake just tell us. There has to be some answer to why this has happened!” Dex was now standing. Tears filled his eyes, and his legs were shaking.

  “I’ll tell you what I know. Please sit young man, please,” Elton motioned back to the ground, smiled, clearly trying to sooth.. Dex sat down. Warren patted him on the shoulder.

  Warren knew Dex had a hard time with God and religion in general since his parent’s accident. The cruelty of such an omnipresent figure letting something so random and senseless happen was infuriating. He could never understand God’s thinking and, in turn, could never forgive him, that is, if He even existed.

  They all sat quietly and waited for Elton to continue. “Okay, you're a mage. You cast spells. But what the hell are the Children of Light, and why are those dead things trying to eat us and why do they want the children?” Sam asked, her voice rising in pitch.

  “What I’m about to tell you is against a sacred oath I have taken. Actually, an oath my family has taken for several generations. It’s not allowed to let mortals, such as you, know the details and goings on of the celestial beings that exist among you,” Elto
n said.

  “I’m a member of a secret organization called the Keepers of the Eternal Flame. It’s an ancient order well over several hundred years old. We have but one purpose. That is to keep the Children of Light alive and safe from the agents of evil.” He paused again. They all stared at him as if he had fourteen eyes and an appendage growing out of his forehead. He smirked. That may have been far easier to understand and accept. He drank again and continued.

  “I understand it’s very difficult for you all to believe what I’m saying, but it’s true. I’m here to keep you protected and safe. What you need to know for now is that there is a very powerful evil force that would love to see you all dead. And I hope to stop that from happening.”

  “What the hell? What exactly is the Child of Light? Is there some government or Satanic cult out to kill us? And who the hell are we to make such a fuckin’ difference?” Dex asked. His questions grew exponentially angrier the more Elton spoke.

  “What I can tell you is, the Children of Light is all that stands between the evil and the darkness from ravaging your world and declaring it its own.” Elton’s face grew somber. The playfulness was gone.

  “This world was once ruled by pure evil, and good lay underground. It was humankind’s great and undeniable will to survive, to fight, that brought forth the war. It was recorded by the Masters of the Words, the historians and mages. They called it The Golden Rebellion to free this world from the shackles of the demonic lords that once ruled.” He looked at each of them slowly, deliberately.

  “Master of the Golden who?” Arnie scratched his head while absently chewing on an apple.

  Elton smiled. “I know it's so much to absorb, everyone. But during the final battle of Rebellion, which was fought in the Fertile Crescent, what we now call Iraq, the armies of light and darkness fought for seven days and seven nights. On the seventh day, on the seventh hour, the Council of Fourteen Mages, or Masters of the Words, led the Army of Light, gathered in a magic circle and channeled all the magic of the Aether, empowered by the Great Creator, and cast a spell. The spell cast the evil demon lord and his armies back to the realm of the dead. On top of this mountain, only one of the mages from the Council was left alive. High Lord Alistair Starling, one of the most powerful priests and mages of his time. His body was broken, and his life-force was waning, but he crawled into the center of the circle and clutched the chalice close to his bloodied chest. It became later termed The Chalice of the Soul by the next Masters of the Words.