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The Death: Extinction

Page 2

by John W. Vance


  Each step he took, he felt resolve and contentment come over him. Soon he’d be dead, and if Tess had also perished, he hoped he'd see her soon. With his thoughts consumed by visions of her, he lost focus on where he was. Not until the bearded man grabbed him did he reconnect with the present.

  “So tell me, who are you?” the man asked.

  Devin looked at the man and with a straight back said, “Devin Chase.”

  “Devin Chase, what were you doing the other day when my men caught you?”

  “I was looking for someone.”

  “And who might that be?”

  Devin thought about the question. Should he answer honestly? What if Tess was alive and also being held captive? Would answering honestly put her in jeopardy?

  “Well, Mr. Chase, what say you?”

  “I was looking for my brother, Morgan.”

  “Hmm, Morgan.”

  “Are you Renfield?” Devin asked.

  The man looked at him and asked, “How do you know that name?”

  “Morgan mentioned him. He said he worked for him and I wanted to come and help.”

  The man cocked his head and squinted at Devin. He then looked up at the crowd and bellowed, “Does anyone know Morgan?”

  A few hands rose from the sea of men.

  “Come forward.”

  “If you’re Renfield, please allow me to serve you,” Devin said.

  “Be quiet,” the man said.

  A large burly man stepped forward. “I know Morgan. He and John never returned from Jacksonville.”

  “Did he ever mention having a brother?”

  The large man’s eyes rolled in his head as he thought. “He never mentioned one, Captain.”

  Upon hearing the man call the bearded man captain, Devin knew this was the infamous Renfield.

  “But did he ever say he didn’t have one?” Renfield asked.

  “No, sir, he never said he didn’t.”

  “And you?” Renfield asked another man who had stepped forward acknowledging Morgan.

  “No, Captain, he never said either way.”

  Renfield lifted his gaze above the men and hollered, “Does any man here know if Morgan had a brother or not?”

  The crowd remained silent.

  “Looks like Morgan didn’t talk much or you didn’t know your comrade,” Renfield said and looked at Devin. “Where are you from? I hear a Yankee accent.”

  “New York.”

  “Ha, New York! You, tell me where was Morgan from?” Renfield asked.

  “Sir, he wasn’t no Yankee, I can tell you that,” the large man answered.

  “Captain, please, Morgan was my half brother. We had different mothers; I was raised in New York but moved South years ago.”

  “Why should I believe you?” Renfield asked.

  “Why would I make this up? The last time I saw my brother—”

  “And when was that?” Renfield asked.

  “A while back,” Devin answered. The questioning was making him extremely nervous. If one lie was found out, he was sure to cook.

  Renfield turned to the two men and asked, “When did Morgan join our crew?”

  They both looked at each other, searching for the right answer.

  Devin was hopeful their pause meant they didn’t know.

  “Um, I can’t quite remember the specific date, maybe three or four months ago,” the large man replied.

  “And I spoke to him two months ago when he was in Jacksonville. He had sent someone north to check on me and his mother. His letter told me to meet him in Jacksonville. I did, but he soon left. I haven’t seen him since.”

  Renfield looked at Devin carefully, examining every inch. “Mr. Chase, you came here looking for your brother, who is no longer with us, because you wanted to join him and our crew?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You two, step aside,” Renfield ordered the two men. He grabbed Devin by the shoulders and turned him around to face the crowd. “Men, I will leave this to you. Do we add Devin Chase to our crew?”

  All around chatter began and seconds later a few men called out, “Yes!”

  “Are there any dissenters?” Renfield asked.

  Devin closed his eyes and prayed.

  “I’ve got a question, Captain,” a man called out.

  “And what’s that?” Renfield asked.

  Devin’s heart sank.

  “What’s he good at? We don’t need a loafer; we need men who can fight and pillage.”

  “Well, Mr. Chase, what are you good at?” Renfield asked.

  “I’m good with a rifle; I can hunt and kill with no problem!” Devin declared.

  Renfield nodded and pushed Devin forward. “Welcome, Mr. Chase, to our crew!”

  Like a weight had been lifted, Devin wanted to scream with joy. He was free from certain death, but exactly how was he going to get away from these animals?

  The men roared their approval.

  Renfield turned to his first mate, Silas Gardener, and ordered, “Bring the other prisoner out.”

  Men opened the large shipping container next to the one Devin had been held in and pulled out a young man. From the looks of it, he couldn’t have been more than twenty-five.

  “What’s he charged with, Silas?” Renfield asked his first mate.

  “Sir, he’s charged with theft from his fellow mates, but more importantly, he disobeyed a direct order.”

  Renfield smiled and loudly proclaimed, “And what order was that?”

  “Captain, he refused to participate in the raid on Savannah.”

  “So he stole from his mates, and then when those mates needed him, he refused to help. Please share what happened that tragic day.”

  The crowd began to howl and jeer.

  Renfield raised his arms and motioned for the men to calm down.

  “Sir, we lost seven brave men that day. In fact, we almost lost the entire raiding party. If our brave Fitzpatrick hadn’t survived, we would never have known of this man’s cowardice,” Silas remarked.

  The mob of men again jeered and began to chant, “Death, death!”

  Devin stood a few feet away, watching the scene unfold. For an instant, disbelief entered his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. The reality of the world reminded him that these events had become the norm.

  The young man was pushed forward and forced to his knees in front of Renfield.

  “What do you have to say for yourself?” Renfield asked.

  Knowing his fate was sealed, the man didn’t hold back, “Fuck you; you’re nothing but a monster.”

  Renfield laughed and grabbed the man by his thick long blond hair. “As is our custom, what shall we do with this man?”

  In unison, the men roared, “Death, death, death.”

  A few voices yelled out, “Burn him!”

  Renfield raised his arms again, silencing the group.

  Devin felt for the man but at the same time was happy it wasn’t him that would suffer this horrific death.

  “You have spoken. Take him to the stake!” Renfield exclaimed.

  The volume of the crowd now turned ravenous mob turned Devin’s stomach.

  Bravely the young man insisted on walking to the stake. He stood tall and offered his arms to be tied above his head.

  Renfield watched, his eyes glowing with excitement as his followers convulsed and heaved with joy.

  Devin had to fight the urge not to look; if he were to stay alive, he’d have to act like he enjoyed such scenes of barbarism.

  Several of Renfield’s men stepped forward with torches in hand but stopped short of setting the ground ablaze beneath the young man.

  Renfield raised his arm and once again the men fell silent.

  Devin was amazed at how he had them trained like dogs.

  Renfield looked at his ever-obedient men and then turned to look at the young man, whose fate was sealed. Both men shared a glance and deep down Renfield respected the young man’s determination not to beg. So often he had fou
nd men willing to humiliate themselves in the hopes they would be saved. What this man must have known was there were no words, no actions that could help. His destiny was on that stake; therefore the last remaining thing he had was how he conducted himself in his last minutes. It was this strength that Renfield respected. He would have expected this man to cower and beg, but he did not.

  With just the lowering of his arm, Renfield gave the unspoken command to light the fire beneath the young man.

  They all tossed the torches into the woodpile, quickly igniting it. Within seconds the thick pile at the young man’s feet roared and engulfed his body.

  Remaining defiant, the man kept the unimaginable pain to himself and stood silent as the flames consumed him.

  Knowing he was being watched, Devin kept his gaze focused on a spot beyond the burning man, giving the appearance he was watching.

  A devilish grin spread across Renfield’s face as the young man’s flesh seemed to melt. He turned to Devin and whispered, “If I find out you lied, that will be you.”

  Pine Bluffs, Wyoming

  Cassidy grimaced as the needle was extracted from her arm. She looked at the blood in the vial and still couldn’t believe that her blood was so special. It was so coveted that people fought and had died over it. What she couldn’t come to grips with was the world she was now living in. For her it was like a nightmare, her last moments were of her becoming deathly sick, requiring the plane to be diverted to Indianapolis. Her final memory was being taken off the aircraft and rushed to the hospital; after that nothing until she woke in the van leaving the Denver International Airport. In the months that followed, the world had collapsed, but she had slept in a drug-induced coma, unaware that everything she knew was gone. What she didn’t know for sure was if her fiancé, Devin, was dead. More than ever she needed Devin, but was he alive and, if so, where was he? She attempted to grapple with the concept of finding him and the only logical plan was to head to New York City. Devin was her only connection to the past; he was the only person that she could truly trust.

  Waking up to strange faces in an apocalyptic nightmare would have driven many crazy, but Cassidy processed it as well as one could. Upon her arrival in Pine Bluffs she had met the magistrate and his cadre of loyal followers. He had stressed to her how important she was to saving the rest of the world from Chancellor Horton’s expanded plan of death. Her blood was the alpha and omega and was being used by Horton to create a more lethal virus, but it could also be used to create a vaccine.

  The woman who had drawn her blood placed the vial on a small metal table next to the bed Cassidy was lying in.

  Cassidy picked it up and looked at it closely.

  “Please put that back,” the woman said, alarmed that Cassidy was handling the vial.

  “It’s my blood.”

  “I don’t want you to drop it.”

  “If I do, I have more,” Cassidy snarled.

  “Just be careful.”

  Cassidy turned the vial and watched the blood flow from one end to the other. It was just amazing that her blood held so much for what remained of the human race.

  “I’ll take that, thank you,” the woman said, snatching the vial from Cassidy’s hands.

  “You do know that I volunteered for this,” Cassidy snapped.

  “Well, Miss, you do know that many people have died trying to find patient zero and get you.”

  “Am I patient zero?”

  “That’s what we’re told. You started it and hopefully your blood can end it.”

  “Did you just say I started it? How dare you! I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t choose this. I’m as much a victim of this genocide as anyone.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “Enough,” Cassidy barked and swung her legs off the bed and stood.

  “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.”

  “You have your blood and I fulfilled my obligation. I have someone to find, so goodbye,” Cassidy exclaimed, her temples throbbing.

  The woman again tried to apologize, but Cassidy dismissed her and slammed the door behind her. Standing in the hallway of the town clinic, she sighed heavily and after taking two steps stopped and hung her head in despair. Her once long straight brown hair was gone, cut short by Dr. Mueller. Before she would have cared, but now she had nothing to care for.

  Travis was waiting down the hall and saw her despondence. He rushed to her and asked, “Is everything okay?”

  “No, it’s not okay. Considering the world has gone to shit and I’ve been told I’m to blame for it.”

  “I know how hard this must be for you,” Travis said, attempting to soothe her.

  “I just need to rest. I’m still not at the top of my game,” Cassidy said and began to walk towards the exit.

  Travis hurried to catch up and asked, “Last night you mentioned you wanted to go find your fiancé. I’m in the same boat.”

  They reached the exit and Cassidy stopped. She turned and asked, “I was in a coma for over seven months; why do you want to go look now?”

  Her question hit him hard, but what stung about it was there was truth in it. Not having a suitable answer, he decided to change the subject. “If you’re going to leave, let me join you. You can’t go it alone, and even with one hand, I can still handle myself.”

  “Let me go rest and we can continue this conversation later?”

  “Sure,” Travis said and opened the door for her, but their exit was blocked by the magistrate.

  “Captain Priddy and Cassidy Lange, what good timing,” the magistrate said with his ever-present grin wrapped across his face.

  “I gave them a total of four samples. I did what you asked of me; now I need to go rest,” Cassidy said bluntly.

  The magistrate looked at her, then asked Travis, “Is she okay?”

  “Tired.”

  “I can imagine. Say, how about my driver takes you back, because I want to have some words with the captain,” the magistrate said.

  “Fine,” Cassidy said and walked past the magistrate and down the sidewalk towards his black SUV.

  “Captain, let’s go take a walk,” the magistrate said, placing his arm around Travis’ shoulder and leading him towards the sidewalk.

  Travis kept his eye on Cassidy until he saw her safely put into the back of the SUV and ushered off.

  The magistrate could see how he doted on Cassidy; he thought maybe it was natural for him to flock to damsels in distress. However, he couldn’t get a sense for his emotional state after what had happened to Lori.

  “I haven’t had time to tell you how sorry I am about Lori; I know you cared for her.”

  Travis didn’t answer; instead he looked off towards the pillow-white clouds stamped upon the deep blue sky.

  “You’ve taken to Cassidy since her arrival here,” the magistrate commented.

  “She’s alone, doesn’t know anyone. I just feel for her.”

  “I’ve heard she’s leaving soon.”

  “Yeah, she wants to go find her fiancé.”

  “I know this is personal, but do you intend to go with her?”

  Travis stopped and asked, “Why do you ask?”

  “It’s not obvious? You’re a good part of our community. I’d hate to see you leave.”

  Travis understood the question. As a former military commander he knew the importance of having good team members. He knew the magistrate needed people in his fight against Horton and the Order.

  “I’m not sure what I’m going to do right now,” Travis answered, deliberately not divulging his desire to go with Cassidy and her reluctance to immediately ask him.

  “What can I do to have you stay? Name it, anything within reason.”

  “Wow, anything?”

  “Within reason.”

  “I’m in the same situation as Cassidy. I have a fiancée out there somewhere and I’ve neglected looking for her long enough.”

  The magistrate raised his eyebrows, furrowing his forehead. He was tempted to make a c
omment but held his tongue for fear his blunt response would be taken the wrong way. “Let me put it this way. If Cassidy wants to leave, I’ll send a couple good men, all armed, and give her a vehicle loaded with plenty of fuel and food. I just need you to stay; I need someone with your talents.”

  “So are you saying you won’t help her if I decide to go?”

  The magistrate was about to answer when several townspeople walked by and greeted him.

  Within the protective walls of Pine Bluffs, the town looked like an apocalyptic Norman Rockwell painting.

  After the people moved on, the magistrate leaned in and in a lower tone replied, “Of course we’ll help you and her. We’re good people here. I’d not only send some of my good men, but you’d have a vehicle with all the stuff you could ever need.”

  “I would hope so.”

  “Of course, I owe you and her, to be quite frank.”

  “Let me think about it.”

  “Don’t think too long. We need to act quickly as soon as we can come up with a vaccine. If it wasn’t for Martin’s quick thinking, we’d not have the discs and notebooks. We didn’t get a sample of his new virus, but Dr. Mueller was detailed in his note taking. We have everything we need. The next phase after creating it will be to send out teams to disburse it. This is where you’ll come in handy. As you know, the Scraps have taken a beating. Horton suffered a loss, but his forces have rallied and hit them hard. He has to know we’re onto his plan, and it’s only a matter of when they find us here.”

  Travis wanted to help, and after losing Lori, the urge to seek revenge for her filled him. He was torn. He’d always had an instant desire to help women in need and Cassidy fit that, but she wasn’t playing the role exactly how he needed her to. She was resistant in her desire to have him join her and this prompted him to reevaluate his position. He still wanted to find Tess, but his reluctance to after over seven months did put into question his love for her in the deepest parts of his mind. If someone could read his thoughts, they’d say he was conflicted at best and flakey at worst. He had to ask himself if he was only using the search for Tess as a means to justify joining Cassidy.

 

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