by SD Tanner
One star had turned out to be someone he knew. Luke was only twelve when Ted brought him back from the UK. He’d been on the transport ship when Ted sunk it to save the survivors on the Isle of Wight. After the battle, he’d brought Luke to live with him and Angel at the Ranch. Although he hadn’t spent much time with the boy, he still recognized him in his mind, but he wasn’t the same. He guessed he must be about seventeen or eighteen now. Walking through Luke’s damaged mind, he sadly realized the boy was now a hunter. Through Lucie, he’d learned hunters weren’t mindless so he’d talked to Luke. The timing of his communication was a lucky coincidence, and he was able to help the boy escape from the prison he’d found him in.
Deciding to explore further, he’d taken down the mental wall shielding him from the demon possessing him and talked to it. Their chat wasn’t going well, and the demon wasn’t being cooperative. Through its eyes, he’d learned all the demons were connected as if they were a single mind. They weren’t individual entities, but like a monster with many legs. If you could see one demon, then you could see them all. It was both a strength and weakness. It meant when one learned something, they all gained the same knowledge. Equally, if one was infiltrated then they all were.
Technically, he was already dead and his home was in hell. Max had also died, and she was haunting the earth waiting for him to be freed, but their son was being safely guarded by the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Knowing the true state of the people he cared about meant he had nothing to lose, and he had no reason to quit what he was doing.
Staring through the eyes of the demon, he got a very different understanding of hell. It wasn’t all fire and brimstone. Hell didn’t have a map, but it did have a structure. There were so many different types of demons, it was almost like an army. Some were designed to walk the earth, and others only lived in hell. The one thing all of the demons shared in common was their need to feed on suffering. There were demons specializing in causing physical pain, others that terrified the mind, and some who tempted the living to let their weaknesses rule. Each demon had a purpose and a part to play in the deep structure that managed hell.
Scrolling through the knowledge of his demon, he was overwhelmed by its complexity. It was a lot to absorb and nothing he needed to know about right now. He was mainly interested in what was happening to the living. Inside his demon’s mind were dark stars, much like the ones in his own, only his were bright lights. Touching one, it opened and he saw through the eyes of the demon it belonged to. It was standing in a frozen landscape, surrounded by dense white snow. Bored with the view, he touched another dark star, and there was only the same icy terrain. Wanting to learn more, he opened star after star, looking for different scenery.
Eventually he found a demon standing in a barren land. The ground was dry and dusty, much like theirs had been when Ruler brought hell to earth. On the horizon was a line of green trees, and beyond it was a lush, fertile country like nothing he’d ever seen before.
“What do you want?” The demon asked irritably.
“What do you have?”
Laughing cynically, it replied, “Souls. What else is there?”
“Show me what you have.”
By way of reply, the demon turned its head and next to it was an untidy collection of cages. Between the disorganized rows were long corridors stretching into the distance. While the demon wandered past the cages, dirty arms stretched out to it, and voices pleaded for food and water. He couldn’t control what the demon looked at, but he could see enough. The cages seemed to be made of metal and wood, and they were stacked one on top of the other, creating an uneven wall on each side of the corridor. Sitting inside were bedraggled looking people, all dirty and desperate. There were at least half a dozen people walking along the corridor, shoving bowls of food and water through the narrow slit of each cage. Dressed in torn clothes, and with their hair hanging in strings, they were filthy from head to toe. While they listlessly pushed the almost empty bowls at the prisoners, it seemed the demons were making some effort to keep these prisoners alive. Gears hadn’t told him Ruler was taking people captive again, and he wondered if he knew.
“Who are they?” He asked.
“Souls,” the demon replied plainly.
“I know that, but where did you get them from?”
“They were here.”
“Where’s here?”
“Earth.”
His demon guide wasn’t being helpful. He assumed the prisoners were somewhere on earth, but the demon’s answer implied something else. “Is there anywhere other than earth?”
“What kind of stupid question is that?” The demon replied sharply.
“What are you doing to these people? Why are they in cages?”
“Don’t you know anything? Haven’t you been paying attention? We’re not allowed to kill them, so don’t ask me to.”
“Why can’t we kill them?”
“How the fuck would I know? But it’s very disappointing,” it replied petulantly.
The people pushing the food and water into the cages didn’t look like demons to him. Demons were very vain, and always being clean and immaculately dressed was one of their peculiarities. The listless people pulling the cart with the food bowls looked dirty and exhausted. He’d never seen a tired looking demon before, they were always slightly manic and prone to rapid mood swings.
“Who are the people feeding them?”
“How the fuck would I know?”
“Why are they feeding them?”
He felt as well as heard the demon’s irritation when it replied, “Why the fuck are you asking so many questions? Who cares why we’re feeding them? As long as I don’t have to do it, I couldn't give a shit.”
The demon was clearly growing impatient with him, but he still wanted to understand what he was seeing. “Fair enough, but where did you get the people to feed them?”
Sighing with obvious boredom, it replied dourly, “They’re just other souls.”
“What? They’re collaborators? People are collaborating with you?”
“Humans always do,” the demon replied. With a snigger, it added, “They think it’ll save them.”
“And it won’t?”
Becoming irritated again, the demon replied, “Don’t be stupid. They all end up in the same place. Well, not all of them do, some souls are taken to the other place.” In a smug tone it added, “But all of the collaborators come with us.”
He was about to continue his questioning, when he abruptly found himself standing alone in hell again. The RV was still there, only now it was rusty with flat tires. The fire he’d always made for Max was cold, and the forest was replaced by a rocky, damp surface, with rivulets of red running like cracks along its surface. If he strained to listen, the sound of wailing was echoing against the lumpy terrain surrounding him.
“Being nosey, are we?” A voice said in his ear.
Standing next to his elbow was a large, grey colored creature with a misshapen head and bulging muscles. Completely naked, its heavy genitals swung between its thick, bandy legs. A twitching tail, with a razor sharp end, was lashing from left to right as if it was irritated.
“Ruler?”
“Do you like my new outfit?”
Recalling Ruler’s last body, the image of a gargantuan woman with enormous breasts and a dose of the clap briefly flashed through his mind. “It’s ugly, but it’s still better than your last one.”
“Why are you bothering my underlings?”
“Why have you been keeping me in hell?” He asked abruptly.
“Being a bit sharpish for a prisoner, aren’t you?”
Ruler had offered him a life with Max and baby Mac providing he betrayed his own people. He hadn’t taken the offer, but it seemed Ruler got what he wanted anyway. He needed to leave hell, and narrowing his eyes, he said, “You’re pretty damned stupid, but you’re not normally dumb enough to sleep with your enemies.”
“What does you mean?”
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�Thanks to the demon that possessed me, I can see through the eyes and minds of all your demons. And thanks to being infected with the designer virus, I can talk to the dead including Ip.”
“No one likes a show off. What’s your point?”
Inwardly, he sighed. Like many, he’d always assumed the dark side would be smart, but the more he saw the less he believed that to be true. The Devil and his demons couldn’t concentrate for long enough to put together much cohesive thought, and that was probably a good thing. With their obvious powers, if they could think clearly enough to form a decent plan, they’d have taken over the universe long ago. As it was, they appeared to bounce from one manic idea to the next, undoing themselves in the process.
“Well, that’s a little rude,” Ruler said sulkily. “Your side aren’t too bright either.”
“My side?”
Ruler chortled merrily. “You’ve a cheek to call me stupid when you don’t know even know who you are.”
“I’m Mackenzie. What else is there to know?”
Throwing back his large, oddly shape head, he guffawed with laughter. “No, you’re not.”
“Then who am I?”
Suddenly becoming serious, he replied, “You really don’t know, do you?” When he didn’t reply, Ruler sighed and said somberly, “Well, you’re going to get your wish. Now that meddling bunch of idiots have shown you where you are, I can’t keep you here anyway. You’re quite right in what you think. To keep you here makes you the perfect spy for the other side.” Patting him paternally with his large, clawed hand, he added, “Unfortunately, in this game no one ever comes to the party wearing a name tag. It took me a while to work out who you are and now I know, I can do you no harm. Your soul is not in the pot.”
“So, who am I?”
Placing a heavy arm across his shoulder, Ruler guided him to a rock that appeared out of nowhere. “Take a seat and close your eyes.” In a chiding tone, he added, “No peeking.”
Seeing no reason to do differently, he did as he was asked. The rock felt rugged and warm under his butt, almost comfortable, but not quite.
In a voice that seemed to be drifting away, Ruler said, “You are the eyes and ears of the universe, and you’re not supposed to take sides, but you have. It’s your role to bear witness, as without you the truth cannot be told. You can never be killed, for you are the Revelator.”
According to history, the Bible was written by John the Revelator. Was it possible he was that man? It would explain why he saw the future. The rock beneath him became softer, and the air carried the sweet smell of summer. Opening his eyes, fresh green plants and blossoming flowers surrounded him, and traveling along the wind was the sound of children’s laugher.
CHAPTER SIX: Hunter Luke
The bald, lean creature snarled while it bodily threw itself against him. Stumbling from the force of the blow, he reached out his hand and caught it by the throat. Now they were both off balance, and falling sideways to the ground, they grappled with one another’s necks.
Why?
Die.
Its reply didn’t explain why it was attacking him. When he was still at the prison Mac had ordered him to kill the two men trying to feed him the live cat, and their blood had run down his throat, making his head vibrate manically with the thrill of the kill. Refreshed by their raw flesh, he’d mooched out of his cage looking for the cat. He wanted to pet it. The memory of soft fur under the palm of his hand had made him feel sad, and he was sure the cat could make the bad feeling go away. He hadn’t paid any attention to what was outside his cell before, but there were rows of cells and each one was occupied by another bald, lean hunter.
Not being interested in his own kind, he’d lumbered along the corridor looking for his cat. It was the small female hunter who finally penetrated his distracted mind. She’d called to him softly in a language he’d understood. It wasn’t in words, or with even telepathy, but her moans, clicks and whispers had made it clear to him she needed his help. Something about her had appealed to his need for company, and he’d wanted her more than he wanted the cat. She’d told him to get the key from the door to his cell, and he’d obediently padded away to fetch it.
Once he’d handed her the key, she’d deftly unlocked the door to her cell and then the others. The freed hunters had waited patiently for her next order while she’d methodically worked her way down the line of cages. Eventually she’d led them outside, and the sweet smell of blood quickly turned into the howls of the dying. The living had fought back, and some of the hunters had been slaughtered, but many were satiated by the blood of their prey. He hadn’t joined the hunt, but while he’d watched his own kind slaughter the living without reason, he’d been bewildered by their recklessness.
Free of their cells and guards, she’d ordered them to run as a pack. With no concept of time or distance, he’d concentrated on the joy of moving his body in a steady rhythm. It was only when they’d stopped he’d learned they were not all the same.
Still grappling with the throat of the hunter, he asked again. Why?
No answer came, and although he couldn’t explain why, he knew he had to get above the attacking hunter. Throwing his body hard, he rolled on top of the creature, jabbing his knee into its abdomen. With his full weight bearing down into its gut, he hammered his head onto the bridge of its nose, feeling it give on impact. Surprised by the blow, the hunter let go of his throat, and he swiftly placed a thumb against each eye. Leaning his weight against his thumbs, the creatures eyeballs began to leak a red goo, while he slowly dislodged them from their sockets. Each hard round ball slipped past his thumb, popping out of place with a wet slurping sound.
Satisfied his enemy was now blind, he asked again. Why?
The creature didn’t answer, but clawed at its own dislodged eyeballs until it tore them from the thin strand they hung from. Blinded as it was, it was no longer a threat. He effortlessly regained his footing, and looked for the rest of the pack. With the exception of the small female hunter, they were all engaged in a life and death battle. Each had chosen an opponent, and they were clawing and hammering into one another’s bodies. While he continued to puzzle at the carnage, the small female hunter walked over and stood by his side.
Why?
She answered him in her strange growls and clicks. Their kind had to choose how they would live. Would they be driven by their need to hunt, or their desire to protect?
He understood the primal drive to kill, but to bring death without reason was murder. The men in the prison wanted him to kill the cat and he’d taken their lives for it. The cat was innocent and didn’t deserve or need to die. He’d wanted to protect the cat from the men. The men were now dead, the cat was free and so was his conscience. In his mind, order had been restored and everything was as it should be.
The fight in front of them raged on, and as each individual combat ended, the victor would either run into the forest or stand with them. Within a short while, there were a small group of hunters moving restlessly around the small female hunter, and they looked at her expectantly. Her mouth moved in an upward curve, and he knew she was happy. Imitating her smile, he made one of his own. He was happy too.
When she moaned, he understood it was time to run again. He liked running, and his mouth formed a contented curve, while he effortlessly ran with his new pack.
CHAPTER SEVEN: Gears
“Who did you take to the UK with you?”
Philip continued to stare at the rusty, beaten looking ships. “Some of the original Navy guys from Ted’s crew.”
“Where are they now?”
“Staying at the Marine supply base.”
The Navy submarine base contained the ships they’d once relied on to transport supplies and thousands of people to the islands and the Isle of Wight in the UK. Once surrounded by a boggy and useless marshland, it had almost been taken over by the forest. Even the mounds with the bunkers of the missiles and nuclear weapons weren’t visible anymore. The whole site was now green,
with thick bushes and ferns under a canopy of tall, leafy trees. It didn’t look anything like the abandoned site they’d found five years earlier.
Moored in the harbor, or anchored in the middle of the small inlet, were eight large sea faring vessels, including five troop transport ships, several fuel tankers with flat surfaces, and a battleship. None were their original grey, and deep lines of red rust streaked from the tops of the boats to the water line. He would be surprised if any of them were still sea worthy.
“What do the Navy boys say about the condition of the ships?”
Sighing deeply, Philip replied, “They’re not happy, but they say they were built to cope with battle, so a little rust won’t stop them from sailing. They’ve been keeping the engines intact.”
“What about fuel?”
“All the ports had vast stockpiles of fuel for the ships, but it won’t last much longer. None of it’s been maintained, so it’s pretty inefficient.”
“Whatdaya mean?”
“All fuel deteriorates over time. It doesn’t mean it won’t work, but you won’t get as many miles for your tank. The fuel can be rejuvenated with the right additives.”
“Have you spoken to Harry in the refinery town?”
“Yes, but he’s running out the additives. He says the U.S. maintained considerable stocks of various types of fuel for air, sea and land units. A lot of it was stored underground or on bases, and most people didn't know it was there, but it’s very old now. He can reinvigorate the supplies with the right additives, but they didn’t stockpile as much of that. On the upside, nobody knew what those types of chemical were, and had no use for them anyway. They haven't been scavenged much, but there was less to start with.”