The Last in Line

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The Last in Line Page 38

by Thom Erb


  * * *

  Behind him, all Dex heard was several gunshots and cries of agony. Warren. He thought he heard laughter but wasn’t sure. He saw the look in Warren's tear-filled eyes as he stared down at the mutilated body of the lifeless yellow lab, then back to the bastard monster that killed him. Dex loved the dog, too, but he knew he must force the grief down and focus their emotions and attention to the deadly task at hand.

  “No time for that now, man. The girl needs us,” Dex shouted in Warren’s ear.

  “Not to mention the fate of the world,” he added and shook Warren’s shoulder. “Mr. Child of Light, dude.”

  “I know, man, I know!” Warren turned to Dex. His eyes were filled with tears and rage. His felt frantically for the shells in his jacket to reload the shotgun.

  “Let’s do this, man!” Warren said, and then forced himself to concentrate on the moment. “I don’t know how, but let’s just end this now!” He clenched his teeth.

  Dex smiled with a tear in his eyes and gave Warren a thumbs up sign.

  “Fuckin’ A, let’s do it,” he said.

  119.

  Spellbound

  Mount Hope Avenue,

  Mt. Hope Cemetery

  Rochester, New York

  Elton saw the mob of undead swarm toward the surly DJ in the wheelchair and the lad named Arnie as they reached the concrete building. He wished he could help but knew he didn’t have a spell that would be effective from this distance. He needed to get down to where Warren and Dex stood. The Children of Light were the mission. Both of them.

  If he were to cast such a risky spell from this distance, the undead would kill him, too. Elton whispered a prayer as the crowd of undead servants of Hell surrounded his friends, and he kept running. His soul burned with guilt. Too many soldiers of the Great Creator had been lost, but he knew what must be done and kept running.

  A flurry of muzzle flashes and huge flames filled the night sky from beyond the fountain from where Arnie and the DJ were. But Elton kept running until he reached the tree line. Once there, he fell to his knees to catch his breath. He was feeling a little weak from casting such a powerful spell earlier and needed to gather himself.

  120.

  Raise the Dead

  Mount Hope Avenue,

  Mt. Hope Cemetery

  Rochester, New York

  “Vile creatures of light!” The huge figure, clothed all in black armor rented by a series of bullet holes, shouted as the fleshlings drew closer. His abyssal instincts told him to bring his Master the Child of Light dead and stripped of all flesh. But those were not the orders. That made it far more difficult and unsatisfying. It would have given Lord Vorkhal much satisfaction to torture the living spawns of the Great Creator, and all that was unholy to it for the demon Lord Orcus's cause. But due to these meddling flesh-walkers, he had to alter his plans. Rage boiled inside him, needing to be released. But the mission was the priority. His loyalty wouldn’t be questioned. By fulfilling Master Moltke’s orders, by bringing the Child of Light, the position of the Right Hand of Master Moltke was destined to be his. His skeletal grin could not be seen through the chainmail-lined fabric of the black veil that covered his face, he wanted badly to bare his horrific visage to the dogs of the Creator and send them rife with fear to his demonic lord. Sadly, there was no time and the dark Knight began to cast a spell.

  121.

  On the Run

  Mount Hope Avenue,

  Mt. Hope Cemetery

  Rochester, New York

  The unrelenting rain tore flesh like bullets, and lightning struck all around the graveyard. Despite the drenched grass and trees, Capt. Al’s flamethrower quickly caught the surrounding dead trees ablaze. Fire began to spread throughout the old cemetery. The number of undead grew exponentially, and the once empty courtyard was now filled with layer after layer of clamoring undead. The smell wasn’t curbed by the rain, and it only increased the stench of the rotting dead. It was apparent to Elton the dead now ruled this land, and he had failed. He had only limited power left, and continued running until he reached the spot where Warren and Dex stood.

  * * *

  Warren saw Sam there, lying unconscious, with blood oozing from a head wound. His first reaction was to run pell-mell to save her, but standing between them stood the eight-foot-tall black figure. A two-handed sword hung from its back. It looked like one of the swords from Kurosawa’s Seven Samurai. It made Warren cringe. The fear that once was gone now came back unabated and filled him to the core. It took another look at Maico laying on the cold ground, covered in his own blood and mangled flesh, and then at Sam, bleeding and unconscious. Warren’s fear fled into the chilly night.

  122.

  Shoot, Shoot

  Mount Hope Avenue,

  Mt. Hope Cemetery

  Rochester, New York

  The large monster glared at Warren with bright red, glowing eyes. He could make out the outline of a grin under its hooded mask. It waved its arms in intricate motions while its mouth spoke strange, guttural words, as its gloved hands began to glow. The creature thrust one hand in the direction of the moaning, dead things. Warren felt his eyes grow wide as they began to move.

  “Dex!” Warren pointed at the moving figures among the pines.

  In one swift motion, the black Knight snatched Sam up by her hair and bowed in the direction of Warren and Dex, shooting Elton a smile. A victorious smile, Warren thought as rage rolled inside him and that odd heat began to rise with it.

  “You son of a bitch!” Warren screamed.

  The Knight flicked out its thin, but large hand, which once again moved about in intricate motions and speeds. By the movement of its mask, Warren could only guess the creature was speaking some words of the spell. His blood froze and his heart felt like it was going to burst through his chest. Warren rushed forward. Dex joined him, full tilt.

  Warren saw the monster finish his casting, then drawing an object from his belt pouch. It was a red and black gem or stone. It thrust the long stone into the night sky, shouted something in the same strange language. A blinding flash lit the entire area of the hillside of the Criscione estate. Once the light faded, the Knight and the girl were gone. The heavy chains that once held Sam splashed to the rain-soaked earth.

  “No!” Warren fell to his knees and dropped his weapon. Dex nudged Warren’s shoulder and drew a deep breath.

  “No time, man. We’ve got more problems coming.” Dex pointed at the sight of Elton approaching them, walking right into the midst of the now free Knights.

  “Shit! Elton, come on!” Dex yelled. Warren felt Dex shove him, but he was already on it. Warren ran toward Elton, the Knights running to intercept the fragile Keeper.

  “Get away from him, you pieces of shit!” Warren fired a burst from his rifle at them, as he stalked forward. He felt Dex on his flank and heard him firing into the dead things around Elton.

  The Keeper flinched and jumped back as he saw the four Knights come to life next to him. Warren swore the old man might have pissed himself. But Elton pulled out a pistol from his belt and brought it to bear, waving it frantically as the dark Knights surrounded him. He fired one shot, and it went wide right over one of the dead Knights.

  The evil creature let out a sickly laugh that made Elton’s knees knock together with fear. But he stiffened and the next shot blew a large hole where the Knight’s wide grin used to be. Elton knew they all had to move fast.

  123.

  Calling on You

  Mount Hope Avenue,

  Mt. Hope Cemetery

  Rochester, New York

  Arnie and Capt. Al had their backs to the iron doors of the small structure and kept firing at the surrounding mob of undead that grabbed at them. Arnie felt a violent wash of panic overtaking him. Frantically, he made the sign of the cross, and began shouting the only prayer his fragmented memory could recall, the 29th Psalm, all the while firing into the crowd of undead as he kept repeating the comforting prayer.

  Capt. A
l continued to set dozens of the hell spawn on fire and joined Arnie in shouting the prayer. He shouted out even louder as the tanks of the flamethrower ran dry. The undead just kept coming. Arnie flinched at the brazen violence in the old vet as he bashed in a few heads with the useless gun part of the flamethrower, before reaching for his M16.

  124.

  Tooth and Nail

  Mount Hope Avenue,

  Mt. Hope Cemetery

  Rochester, New York

  The disgusting black-draped figures were focused on the Keeper as Warren kept firing until the gun was empty. One of the knights dropped to the ground, having its throat cut in two. In a frenzy, Warren leaped onto one of the vile creatures and knocked it to the wet grass. The surprised Knight had no time to react as Warren caved in its skull with the butt of the M16. It fought and writhed but with the final blows that shattered its red eyes like glass, it went limp. Warren stood up, breathing heavily, looking for the next target for his pent-up rage.

  * * *

  Dex, seeing this, took aim at another ebony Knight’s eye and fired. The bullets made a quick exit out the back of its dark covered head. It dropped to the soaked ground like a sack of rocks, its red lights extinguished. Dex never saw the third attacker coming at him.

  The ebony blade came down toward Dex’s head as the wind wailed through the crescent-shaped valley. Dex caught the blur of motion out of the corner of his eye, offering no time to react. But Warren did.

  * * *

  “Dex!” Warren yelped and jumped between the arcing blade and his friend’s neck. The blade sunk deep into Warren’s shoulder with a sick chunk. Dex heard the splintering of bone as blood sprayed all over his face as he turned toward his attacker. Warren fell to the ground, air gushed from him with a whoosh. The black blade ran red with his blood, the sword still lodged in his shoulder. The creature jerked, trying to free it from its fleshy hold.

  Dex swept the legs out from under the massive Knight, following the summoned beast to the ground. He pounced on top, as it punched at Dex. But the rage Dex held inside would not, could not, be satiated. Dex reached through the flailing Knight’s defense, shoving his thumbs into the creature’s red eyes, digging them from their sockets. No blood came; just a small shriek, and then it went limp like its brethren. Its once brightly glowing eyes fell dark.

  “Uh, gentlemen, a little help please, if you would?” Elton cried as he swung the gun wildly in front of him. The lone Knight knocked Elton’s arm aside and grabbed the Keeper by the shirt collar. He pulled Elton close, with an evil hiss, then drew back his sanguine-glowing sword.

  The black Knight never had a chance to strike the Keeper. In a blinding blur, Dex swung the assault rifle from his back and bashed its sword arm with the butt; the screaming Knight dropped its blade. While distracted by the attack, Elton sunk his dagger deep into its right eye. The red orb flew out with a sick pop, and the creature flailed about grabbing at its missing eye and shrieking. Dex picked up the sword, a look of pure rage upon his face. He liked how it felt in his hands.

  Elton took aim with the revolver. With a quick pull of the trigger, the last of the abyssal warriors fell into the bloody-mud of the lawn.

  125.

  Fallen Angels

  Mount Hope Avenue,

  Mt. Hope Cemetery

  Rochester, New York

  Dex knelt next to Warren, who was now sitting up and putting futile pressure on the gaping wound in his shoulder. Sharp jolts of burning pain filled him and his eyes grew hazy.

  “What the hell were you thinking, man?” Dex looked over the wound. Warren didn't like the piss-poor poker face of his best friend.

  “Nah, I’m good-to-go, man. I...I’ll be fine. Just rub some dirt in it...take a lap.” He let out a howl as he laughed. And tried to force yet another smile. The well was dry.

  “Yeah, funny. Coach Chuck.” Dex shook his head, but Warren understood. Dex took out the first aid kit they’d taken from the Armory and put the best field dressing on Warren’s wound that he could cobble together. Dex stood, and Warren caught him looking in Elton's direction. “Just chill out, man. That’s a pretty nasty cut you got there. I’m thinking you broke your collarbone. You okay?”

  “I did. It hurts like a bitch.” Warren winced as Dex wrapped the large ace bandage around his shoulder. “But, Maico...Sam.”

  Dex stared into Warren’s bloodshot eyes. “I know man. I know. But please, just chill for a sec. I need to make sure you’re not gonna bleed to death, you jackass.”

  The intense stare-down lasted a long moment when Warren finally relented and nodded in agreement, tears streaming down his face.

  126.

  The Price

  Mount Hope Avenue,

  Mt. Hope Cemetery

  Rochester, New York

  “Aw, man. Shit. Maico.” Dex muttered, helping Warren to his feet and slowly walked him to the lifeless body of his four-legged best friend.

  Elton bent over the motionless dog and swiftly shoved something into one of his bags. He stood slowly and reverently handed Warren Maico’s well-worn collar and tags, offering him his deepest consoling smile.

  “I'm so terribly sorry, lad. I believe you might want to keep this, young Warren,” he said. Warren took the collar, his hands shaking.

  Elton glanced around and spoke. “My fellows, I mean no insensitivity to your loss. And I mean no disrespect for the loyal Maico here, at all, but there is still a chance. We have—” Elton cut himself off. He turned around and his heart stopped.

  Dex and Warren turned in response.

  Before them, in the rain-soaked sporadic moonlight, stood thousands of red-eyed undead. Fresh blood and entrails hung from some, rented limbs dangling from others. With their soulless purpose gone, the hellish collective bayed at the late-night moon, calling for the remaining Children of Light.

  Every fabric of Warren's being shook in disbelief, grief and rage, not just for the loss of Maico and Sam, but the brutal reality that these tormented souls were now the controlling force of this world. His world. They knew it, and so did Warren and Dex. They had failed. Their hearts sank. They prepared for death. Dex and Warren hugged each other and awaited the inevitable.

  “Fear not, dear brothers,” Elton spoke as he reached once more into one of his canvas bags. He brought forth a large emerald looking gem.

  “Master Warren, do not forget you are also a Child of Light. And as tragic as it was to lose good Lady Sam, it all matters not if Orcus doesn't have all the Children of Light. You must understand, fellows. The Lord of the Undead needs all the souls of the children. We hold the one last card, lad. You. And I may be able to help us,” Elton said and began to chant. He broke the chant and looked to Dex and Warren. “Shoot those bloody tossers!”

  In a matter of moments, Elton, the Keeper of the Eternal Flame, cast the last spell he had. There was a flurry of gunshots, moans of undead, and words spoken of an unknown origin.

  In a flash of golden white light, they were gone.

  127.

  Can I Play with Madness?

  Mount Hope Avenue,

  Mt. Hope Cemetery

  Rochester, New York

  Barry Lee stood at the top of the large hill that overlooked the flurry of action below. He screamed with a hell filled rage as he witnessed the bright flash of light. In an instant, he knew his panty-waster brother and fat ass friend had escaped. He ripped the arm off one of the many zombies that surrounded him and chucked the body part down the hill, then screamed again. Suddenly bright muzzle flashes off to his left, by a stagnant fountain, caught his glowing eyes.

  “Ah, this night may not be a complete waste. Come on, fuckers, I’m hungry.” Barry spat and staggered down the rain-slicked hill.

  128.

  When Heaven Comes Down

  All about them, darkness swirled and caressed them. A strange electrical energy shot through every inch of Warren's body. He rubbed his eyes and struggled to breathe. The pain in his shoulder made him nauseous. The blurry
kaleidoscope of colors swirled about him as he tried to focus his senses. He heard the pained in and out breathing of someone next to him. It was Dex.

  The first sense to return was that of smell. The acrid stench of burnt tinder, soot and the faint scent of sulfur filled their noses. The blackness slowly gave way to a warm yellow light coming from its center.

  Then a voice...familiar, yet distant, called...Elton; the British guy...the Keeper...the mage. Hearing the thought inside Warren's muddled head made him seriously question his mental state.

  “We are safe for now, lads.” The slow Hampshire accent comforted them as they wiped the remaining darkness from their squinted eyes. “We have little time to act, but gather ourselves and recover.” Elton’s narrow face came into focus as Warren shambled to his weary feet. Dex caught him as he nearly fell.

  “Be still, lad,” Elton told Warren as he knelt before him.

  “I-I-I'm good, man. I...” The world swirled and Warren felt himself slip away.

  Warren felt hands on his shoulder, on his wound. Forcing his eyes open, he saw Elton close his eyes, and whispering foreign words. His hands began to glow with a white light.

  Warren began to feel a warm and comforting sensation in his shoulder. He stared in stunned disbelief, as did Dex, as they watched the wound slowly close and heal before their wide eyes.

  “Such is the power of the Great Creator, my young friends,” Elton said, wiping sweat from his forehead. His skin looked sallow and his eyes sunk deep beneath his heavy brows. He collapsed onto the cold floor.

  “I can’t believe that, man,” Dex said with wide eyes and gaping mouth.

  “Belief is just the beginning, Dexter. There is more to the Creator than you give credit for,” Elton said, offering a tired smile.

  “Thank you, Elton. Thanks so much,” Warren said and moved his shoulder in all directions, checking out its capability.

 

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