B00M0CSLAM EBOK

by Mason Elliott

  Hannah chimed in. “I guess that’s more or less what Minnie and I are.”

  “Good luck to you all during the battles to come,” Minnie said.

  Mason and his friends exchanged similar sentiments, and offered their hands in friendship and camaraderie.

  The two young girls hugged them all instead–even giant Thulkara. The Amazon lifted the two up like they were dolls in her big muscled arms. She towered two feet over them both.

  Mason marveled at those two brave girls, going off to fight for their people and their homes without question.

  “If they can fight so readily,” he said, “how much more can we?”

  “I salute them and their valor,” Thulkara said.

  “They’re both so young and pretty,” Blondie said, with a gleam in his eyes. “It would be such a shame and a waste if something happened to them. I hope they don’t get themselves killed.”

  Mason clapped Blondie on the back. “Hope that for us at the same time, you strawheaded horndog.”

  Then word reached them at the front.

  The two captured enemy mages were now well enough to be questioned.

  33

  With the sun warming the cold morning air and a light wind in the high forties, David and Jerriel left the strange, dark woods of Tharanor behind them. They made their way back through the damaged houses and neighborhoods of the west side, and then northwest back toward what was left of the downtown, and finally back home on Churchill for some well-deserved rest.

  In South Bend and nearby, human beings struggled to go back to being at least part of what they had once been.

  With the monster threat eliminated, at least for the time being, people began to melt down, break down, and freak out. Now they had the time and the opportunity to do so.

  Fights and looting became a problem once more. Several internal, political, and social problems and disagreements simmered up to the forefront also, rearing their ugly heads.

  Who was in charge of what?

  Where did that authority come from? What type of emergency government did they need to form and how should it evolve? How long would martial law be in effect? What were its limits?

  How would people handle the reality of the merge? Would looting roar out of control? Would suicides and killings continue to spike? Dozens of people hung themselves or jumped into the icy waters of the river, unable to deal with all of the changes–with the new realities.

  After a quick rest and a meal, David and Jerriel were summoned to a mandatory meeting at the public library, the new think tank of the town council. That entire area was now guarded by several entrenched legions of the South Bend militia.

  Dirk and Belinda were there with the other new town leaders, trying to deal with the crowds of people demanding further answers. Mobs could demand just about anything–rational or irrational.

  The town council had a large map of Indiana up on a board. Sections that had been highlighted in bright yellow marker were new.

  One of the planners from the search and surveying teams attempted to speak over the din of the crowd, pointing to the map board with a telescoping pointer.

  “As far fetched as it seems…” the man said with hesitation. He looked nervous, about mid-forties, and in a disheveled brown suit. He wore big glasses and had a receding gray hairline. “We have experienced a very serious dimensional event–a shift in reality.”

  “Then, damn it, shift it back. Do something!”

  “Yeah. We want things back the way they were before all of this crap. We want our world back the way it was!”

  “Get the cars and trucks working again–the jets and airplanes.”

  “What about trains and cargo ships?”

  “There’s no phones, no electricity!”

  “No TV or cable. No radio!”

  “No Internet or Wi-Fi!”

  “Nothing works!”

  “We’re going to run out of food!”

  “How do we heat our homes when winter comes?”

  The speaker tried to calm the crowd. But understandably, everyone was still simply too upset.

  Dirk motioned to the band people to play a quick fanfare. The noise crashed out over the crowd. He stepped up to the big megaphone.

  “Listen up, folks. Just stop and listen. I’m General Dirk Blackwood of the militia.”

  People had heard of him from the papers. He was a hero, at least for now. Most people cheered.

  “Thank you. I appreciate that. But please listen. We are doing our best to tell you what we currently know and what we don’t know. Give us a chance. We’re all in this together. If you panic and freak out and just start yelling at everyone, that’s not going to solve anything. Try to stay calm and listen to what we have to say. Then we can all try to go forward from that point, together. Please, bear with us.”

  A general murmur rippled through the crowd. Most of the people nodded and quieted down. A few loudmouths, drunks, and crazies had to be ushered away by militia troops.

  There always seemed to be a handful of nuts trying to disrupt everything.

  “There. That’s better,” Dirk said. “I understand. We’re all on edge. These drastic changes have been very difficult to deal with, for everyone. We must accept and deal with that new reality, the same way that we pulled together and dealt with the monster threat. Now, let one of our local professors, Doctor Dietrich Barnard, talk and tell you what we currently know.”

  Some mild cheering and applause followed that announcement.

  The professor stepped up, distinguished in his gray suit and dark classes, medium length silver hair all combed back. “Thank you, General Blackwood. We appreciate your noble service and the grave injuries you suffered on our behalf, in defense of our homes and our people.”

  Dirk waved and limped back to his seat again. Another cheer went up from the militia and some of the crowd who understood exactly what the defenders had saved them all from.

  “We believe the change that people are calling the Merge has resulted from a mixing of two realities–two alternate worlds,” Barnard told them. “It is said that this other world is known as Tharanor to those who are native to it. Except for the monsters and strange denizens that have attacked us, there is much about this other world that we do not know yet. But we are trying, every day, to learn as much as we can. Tharanor is like Urth in many respects physically–similar continents and oceans for example, but with a different history–in fact, a completely different history than our own.

  “In theory, we believe this change–this Merge–has resulted in fifty percent of our world being swapped out for fifty percent of Tharanor. Parts of both worlds have thus Merged, or become mixed up together like a random, patchwork quilt. Try to picture that in your minds.”

  “Are the other parts gone? Forever?” someone blurted out.

  “Did all those other people die?”

  “We’re not sure. We think that the flip side of the dimensional coin has the other halves of both worlds patched together there, just like ours are here, but on the opposite side of the two dimensions. Our counterparts are most likely dealing with the same problems, threats, and issues that we are. For the moment, we cannot reach or communicate with anyone on the other side.”

  “How long are things going to be this way?”

  “Honestly, we don’t know. It has only been a few days. We’re still trying to figure out how all of this happened. We might not ever have all of those answers. But one important fact needs to be expressed: some of you have seen things that cannot normally be explained. In theory, once again, we believe that, on this other world of Tharanor, physics, and natural and chemical laws work somewhat differently. In essence, what can only be called ‘magic’ can indeed function on Tharanor, and now magic can also function in parts of our world, also–what we now call Urth.”

  A brief uproar from the crowd. Cries of ridicule and disbelief.

  The professor raised his hands. “Please. Please listen. I know how crazy and imp
ossible all of this sounds. I am a man of science and reason. This is difficult for all of us. But these things are real. We have seen them. There is no other explanation. But it seems that the magic of Tharanor was disrupted as well, just as our technology on Urth has malfunctioned. It’s likely that since the Merge occurred, both worlds–both dimensions or realities–have been thrown into chaos, as well as the natural laws that function there.

  “We do not know how the Merge occurred. Perhaps some cosmic accident. Perhaps some deliberate effort on the part of unknown parties, or forces that we have not met. We’re still trying to find out. Keep in mind that it has only been a short time since the Merge took place. There has been very little time to gather information, and we are doing the best that we can under the current threats and the limitations to our transportation methods.”

  “What about trains?” some said. “We hear that old-fashioned, mechanical steam engines still work.”

  “They do, and we’re struggling to get ahold of any antiques and get them running. But again, please keep in mind, the land all around us is not the same anymore. Remember: it’s now a broken patchwork of pieces of Urth, and pieces of Tharanor, both mixed together. Even if we send a locomotive out, say, toward Chicago, we will be forced to fix and lay many hundreds of miles of new track through dense forests, hills, and strange mountains. That will be time consuming in itself. And who knows what further threats we shall meet along the way?”

  Dirk rose up and stepped forward again.

  “We’re sending out long range and shorter range scouting teams, mapping teams, and defense teams to the outlying areas each day. It is extremely dangerous out there in the wilds. Some teams have already been completely wiped out and killed. Others simply vanished without a trace. We’ve sent out larger, more heavily armed groups, but it takes time for them to go out and come back. We need to be patient. I know that is hard. But we need to keep our heads on straight and deal with all of this as best we can. There are still many of our people out there in the wilds who need help. We have to reach them as quickly as we can and draw them into the protective fold.”

  “To hell with them! We still have monsters hiding out in our basements,” someone shouted.

  Dirk did his best to respond. “Defense teams from the militia are going door to door. Report any incidents and they’ll be dealt with. We need everyone we can get on our side, folks. There’s safety in numbers. We don’t know when the next monster attack will occur. We have to get organized and stay organized. Every hand is going to be needed this spring, summer, and fall for food production, if nothing else. We don’t want to starve this next winter, along with all of our other technical problems.”

  “But…but…”

  “No buts, people. This is the way things are. They may be this way from now on. Face the facts at hand. We may never be able to find a way to go back to the past we once had. We just don’t know right now. So suck it up and stop whining like a bunch of spoiled brats, and let’s get to work, and keep working together. That’s our best way to survive. There are only so many of us left, and we must all work together!”

  Lukewarm cheering went up. Professor Barnard stepped in again.

  “News announcements will be made every morning and evening. An old-style, print newspaper has being put together and will continue to be posted and issued to the public. Stay informed. If you discover something important, let the authorities know about it. Our scientists are trying to study various phenomena and figure out a way to get electricity and other basic services working again.”

  “That’s all well and good,” a banker-looking type, in a dirty suit said. “But a lot of us don’t have jobs anymore. What do we do for money? How do we pay for stuff?”

  Dirk shook his head. “Get it through your heads, people. Nothing is going back to the way it was. We are fighting to survive, surrounded by enemies. Everyone’s new job from this point on is the survival of humanity.”

  Dirk yanked one of the smaller megaphones off its stand and paced across the stage with it in his hands. He was in his battered armor again, for show. All eyes and ears focused on him. “Look at Niles, Michigan. That entire town was almost completely wiped out by the monster hordes. Practically every man, woman, and child there was slaughtered and eaten.

  “Does it matter to any of them today what their bank statements were or what job they had? Hell no. Now they’re all dead! We’re in a crisis situation, folks. Money doesn’t matter anymore and its use has been suspended by the emergency town council until the crisis is over. Money can’t save us; only all of us can do that, together. It doesn’t matter right now, who has more money. That cannot be the focus or the goal of our efforts.”

  The banker-looking guy still gaped. David felt for him.

  Money not matter anymore? How was that even possible?

  Dirk gave them all the hard facts. “There’s no paying bills, no hoarding, no buying or selling. Things people need will be rationed out as best as possible from what there is. Barter and trade are fine. No disorder, no looting. No turning on each other. Looters will be killed on the spot at the discretion of the militia on the ground. Any serious crimes will be dealt with harshly and swiftly by the militia. Criminals will be hanged or otherwise executed as needed, via summary military justice. Right now, in all of the chaos, there’s no other way to maintain order.

  “A new system of investigations and military trials will be organized by the remaining law enforcement, legal, and court personnel. They will be up and running shortly. If we hear of a black market, or dangerous illegal stuff anywhere, we’ll shut it down.

  “But there is plenty of work for everyone to do. Thousands have died and need to be identified and buried to avoid epidemics of sickness and disease. Even more people have been wounded or displaced from their homes. The hospitals and medical centers have been overwhelmed with wounded from the fighting. They need volunteers and blood donors; please help them, if you can. Blood stores are being given priority in the few remaining icehouses in the area.

  “Thousands of homes have been damaged and can be repaired for new residents who need shelter. A new homesteading law is being formed. Pets and animals need to be rescued and controlled. Abandoned homes and businesses need to be checked for supplies and equipment that can be gathered, sorted out, and distributed to those who need them most.

  “In the very near future–in a matter of weeks and months–we will face grave needs for food and clean water. Schools have to be kept open. The young must be protected and educated. Knowledge must be passed on, especially the knowledge of what still works, and what can be made to work again. Whatever our experts determine that is.”

  The crowd continued to moan and groan. “It’s as if we’ve been sent back to the eighteenth century overnight!” someone complained.

  Dirk nodded. “If that’s the hand we’ve been dealt, those are the cards we must play. Get used to it. As a species, we’ve done all of that before. We can use that knowledge again before it is lost, and we’re reduced to living in caves and grunting around fires. We can’t let that happen. We can’t become savages like these monsters we fear.”

  “How many people are left? How many of us are left in Michiana?”

  “We think somewhere around forty-five to fifty percent of the local area population, around ninety-thousand in South Bend and Mishawaka. But more refugees arrive from the outlying areas every minute.”

  “What about on the other side?”

  “What about it? We don’t know how to get there. We just don’t know that much about it.”

  “Well, hey, man, this might work for while, but some of us people might have something to say about how all of this is organized and who gets what. If you think black people are going to stand by again and let white people decide everything for them, you got another thing–”

  Immediately, frustrated people started shouting complaints and racial insults.

  David gaped. Where was all of this ignorance and hate coming fro
m? Was it born out of fear?

  “And the Hispanics won’t, either,” someone else added.

  “Go back to Mexico, Juan!”

  “Who said that?”

  Dirk shouted into the megaphone. “Shut up! All of you. We are not going to do this. We aren’t going back to the stupid mistakes of the past. We can’t afford that. I thought we were already beyond all of that crap. We cannot afford to do this! Where were all of you loudmouths when we stood shoulder to shoulder and fought those thousands of monsters to the death? We stood together–and bled and died together–not as blacks, or whites, or Hispanics, or whatever, but as human beings.

  “When we fought side by side in the darkness, not knowing if any of us were going to wake up the next day–we didn’t care what color we were or where our parents came from!

  “Listen up. Two nights ago a gay guy took a sword in the guts for me when I went down. He fought beside me for hours and died trying to protect me. I never even knew his name. His dying thoughts were about his partner, the person he loved.

  “The past is the past. If you haven’t noticed, we’re all on the same side now, and we don’t even know the full extent what we’re up against yet. And the monsters sure don’t care what we are; to them, we’re just meat. Think about it. When the militia came into your neighborhoods to help, to protect you, did you care what color they were or what language they spoke? Hell no! You were just happy that it wasn’t the monsters knocking down your doors and crashing through your windows to gnaw your arms and legs off, while you and your kids screamed and died.

  “We stand together or we fall together. For all we know at the moment, we are all that is left of humanity. Keep that in mind. The day we turn on each other is the day the monsters start to win. Then we become the monsters, and far worse than any of the kind we’re fighting right now. Everybody better think hard on that. Now, everyone get out of here. Let us do our jobs and all of you go find something useful to do as well. Help each other. Protect one another.”

  Dirk’s words silenced the idiots in the crowd.