This Is the End: The Post-Apocalyptic Box Set (7 Book Collection)

by Craig DiLouie

  “’Sup, Sammyboy?” Major said.

  Samuel looked at Mara and then back to Major. He stood on the edge of the portal, which danced with blue and purple light. The headband and overcoat remained intact, but Samuel thought Major looked tired, worn out. When he looked back to Deva, the creature was gone. Samuel felt the handle of the knife in his hand and knew it was not a reflection or a visual construct of the powers in the cave.

  “You didn’t think pushing me through there was the end for ol’ Major now, did ya? I happened to land in a spot a little nicer than this one. Had me a talisman in the palm of my hand and now I’m back to get the most powerful one for myself, the one that’ll get me out of these damn reversions for good.”

  “This isn’t about you,” Samuel said.

  “Oh, I think it is. See, you tried offing me, boy. I’ve spent enough time around thugs and killers to know when that happens. You didn’t give me a Columbian necktie or a pair of concrete shoes, but you tried doing me just the same.”

  “Mara is hurt bad. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Fuck her and fuck you. I don’t really care what happens to you or your little girl. I need you to slip us both into a brandy-new locality before that cloud outside tears up this cave like it’s done everything else. Nobody I met here in this place got the mojo you do, boy.”

  Samuel squinted and raised an eyebrow.

  “Ah, you haven’t been outdoors in a while, have you? C’mon and take a look. I won’t bite,” Major said.

  Major stepped away from the portal. Samuel looked at him and then back to Mara.

  “Seriously. She’s as good as dead. You and I got unfinished business. Frankly, I don’t care what you do with her.”

  Samuel nodded and walked toward the entrance to the cave as if he approached the edge of a city skyscraper roof. He felt the empty blackness before he reached the threshold.

  Samuel remembered the military videos he had seen in his youth, the ones filmed in the American Southwest during atomic-bomb trials. This reminded him of that.

  The cloud had lifted somewhat, which allowed a view of the landscape across the field, and all the way to the base of the mountain in the distance. Most of the trees lay on their sides, with gnarled root balls jutting from holes in the soil. The swaying wheat from the field lay flat like the massive crop circles that appeared in England. Even the mountain in the distance appeared bare, tired and lonely like a hunchbacked man waiting for death. Between the surface and the bottom of the cloud light hung, much like the light generated inside the cave. It gave Samuel enough to see the landscape, as if it were created with software for a child’s movie about fairy tales gone horribly wrong.

  The movement inside the dark cloud coalesced into silvery streaks of motion that resembled serpents. Samuel thought all those ancient myths about flying, feathered snakes now seemed a bit less foolish. Silent lightning bounced between spots in the cloud, while the air felt heavy and still at the surface. Samuel scanned as far as he could see, but detected no life. The wolves were hiding or already eaten by the cloud. The horde, along with Deva, did not show their faces if they even remained. Samuel regained a sliver of his sense of smell, although he wished he hadn’t. The dying world smelled and tasted like cold, wet cigarettes. As he stood, gazing upon a world that was never his, the cloud inched closer to them in a slow, methodical descent.

  “The last phase. Seen it a few times, closer than I care to admit. Luckily we got you, so you and I can sell our front row seats to the shit-storm.”

  Samuel turned and saw the spreading smile on Major’s face. He wanted nothing more than to pummel that look from his skull, but knew Major wouldn’t let that happen. He came back from the banishment in the portal, and he had knowledge about this that Samuel did not.

  “What happens when the final curtain comes down?”

  “Not really sure,” Major said. “Heard some stories in other localities, but it’s always hard to verify. Not like someone’s gonna get video of it on their phone, right?”

  The reference to the ordinary made Samuel wince. He thought about the phone, the television, the car, and all of the other supremely boring everyday items in his life. He wanted nothing more than to feel normal again. It was not the extreme high points he missed while being abandoned in this place, but the little stuff. He wondered if he would ever have that chance again. He dreamed about standing on a frost-covered driveway in the bright sun of a February morning. He smiled when picturing the brilliant green of the lawn in the first few weeks of spring. He could almost taste the bitter jolt of a hot cup of French roast coffee.

  “You with me, pardner?”

  Samuel nodded.

  “I’d love to stand here and watch the world die like they sang about in that Everclear song, but I don’t want to go down the drain.”

  The pop-culture reference was another dagger in Samuel’s heart. He remembered how much he missed his music, even the free stuff from friends.

  “I’ll hear you out.”

  “Damn straight. Not like I’m giving you a choice. I’m being a gentleman.”

  Samuel huffed at Major’s self-proclamation.

  “We both know you can open the portal. We both know you can slip, with my help. We both know there ain’t much time left before the cloud sucks this place dry. But only one of us knows the girl’s gotta be left behind.”

  “I can’t do that,” Samuel said.

  “You’re going to have to, son. I ain’t never seen someone slip more than one other person, and I sure as hell ain’t getting left behind.”

  “So you’d leave her here to die?”

  “She’s already dead, brother. Don’t ya get it?”

  Samuel shook his head. “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Where do you think you are? This ain’t Wyoming or Montana or some other heavenly wilderness.”

  Mara moaned. Samuel looked at her and then back to Major.

  Major sighed and walked to an outcrop of rock. He sat on it and put his head in his hands. The old man looked out of the cave and back at Samuel, shaking his head.

  “I guess we ain’t getting where I thought we would.

  “No,” Samuel said, as he stared at Major, his eyes as solid as the walls of the cavern. “We’re not. I’ve got another plan. I spoke with Deva.”

  Major laughed, slapping his knee with one hand. “Deva? What the fuck is that? You talking to Aretha or Mariah out here?”

  Samuel waited for Major’s snickers to die off before continuing. “I think he might control the horde.”

  “Nobody controls the horde, son. Just because the storm is coming doesn’t mean I can claim I sent it.” Major stood and brushed the front of his overcoat. “I’d love to continue your education, but I seriously don’t give a rat’s ass about it. We need to slip from this place before it’s too late. If you can’t do that with me, I’m just as happy to go it alone.”

  Major pulled a dagger from underneath his coat. In the other hand he held a tire iron. “They’re not Lord of the Rings–caliber weapons, but they’ll be enough to get the talisman from your dead body.”

  “What if we try slipping three?” Samuel asked. He had to resolve the action he was about to take by exhausting all possibilities first.

  “Cloud ain’t gonna wait for us to talk through this like a couple of grade-school girlies. Give me the talisman.”

  Samuel looked down at the knife in his palm. He felt the familiar texture of the handle and the weight of it. He knew the blade was no match for the dagger in Major’s hand, but he had youth and fitness on his side.

  “That’s not going to happen so I guess there isn’t much left to say,” Samuel said.

  Major nodded and spread his feet shoulder-width apart. He crouched low, his beady eyes peering from beneath the edge of his headband. Major held the dagger in front of his face while the tire iron dangled from his other hand.

  Samuel gripped Scout in his hand and took a step toward Major. He looked at the old man
’s face and waited, giving one last pause. Samuel had not been in many fistfights as a kid, but he could never forget the concoction of fear, anxiety and adrenaline that surged through his veins before one started. He felt his tongue stiffen in a dry mouth, and the muscles in both his arms twitched. When Major shook his head, Samuel knew the time for negotiations had ended.

  Major swung the dagger in a lazy arc, cutting the air with the sharpened blade. He brought it back and forth, carving a safe space between him and Samuel. The tire iron waited, the cold metal knowing the time for bashing would come soon enough. Samuel stepped closer, keeping his blade upright in a defensive block, although he thought one full swing from Major’s dagger would break his own blade. He bent down to pick up a rock in his left hand.

  “You’re desperate, boy. Last chance.”

  Samuel ignored Major’s words and swung hard with his fist closed around the knife. Major stepped back to dodge it and came around with a kick to Samuel’s knee. The blow from his boot made him wince. Major watched as he dropped the rock to grab the damaged ligaments. When Samuel squatted, Major came across his shoulder with the tire iron. Samuel fell sideways, and his head crashed into the powdery dirt of the cavern floor. The tire iron felt like it had cut a burning hole in his shoulder, which helped to distract him from the pain in his leg.

  Major stepped back and waited. Samuel writhed on the ground as Major waited for him to stand. When he did, Major brought the tire iron into Samuel’s midsection, where it struck his ribs. They both heard the bones crack before Samuel felt the searing pain. Samuel doubled over and dropped Scout on the ground.

  Major stood and straightened his back. He glanced at the entrance to the cave, looked at Mara’s still body, and then at the back of Samuel’s head, now curling in toward his knees as he lay in a fetal position on the ground.

  “There ain’t much time left. If you don’t slip us now, I’m going to kill you and take my chances flying solo.”

  Samuel lifted his head. He looked at Major’s eyes through a wall of silent tears but did not respond.

  “So be it,” Major said.

  He brought the tire iron up above his head, lining up the back of Samuel’s skull. As he held it aloft, Samuel flipped over and threw the rock into Major’s groin. The old man let out a muffled cry as the chunk of limestone collided with his most sensitive area, causing him to drop his arm but not the tire iron. Major staggered backward as the blow stole all of the breath from his lungs. He turned sideways to spew what little remained inside his stomach.

  Samuel recognized the lull as his last opportunity to survive the fight. He pushed himself up into a hunched position, willing his injured leg to withstand the weight of his body. He drew his good knee back and drove it upward into Major’s abdomen. The old man didn’t see it coming because he was puking. Major fell backward into the dirt, as did Samuel when his leg gave out under the strain. Samuel crawled closer and spotted Scout in the dirt. His fingers clenched the handle of the blade. Samuel aimed the point at the back of Major’s right leg. He reached forward and sliced across the back of Major’s boot, just above his heel, severing the Achilles tendon. Major screamed and dropped his weapons as his hands went toward the wound.

  Feeling on somewhat more equal footing, Samuel rolled backward to avoid Major’s random flailing weapons. He pulled himself into a sitting position and tried to breathe through the fissures in his ribs. He thought about the countless stories he heard about hand-to-hand combat where a broken rib punctured a lung and the combatant drowned in his own blood. Samuel rubbed his hand along his side, hoping the pointy bones were not poised to do the same to him.

  Major could not hold back his cries. He blinked, determined not to let the pain overtake him and force unconsciousness. The thudding force in his abdomen caused several more dry heaves, while the burning pain above his heel made it difficult to even roll over. Major reached for his dagger and brought it to his chest while forcing himself over onto his back. He used his palms to push up into a sitting position, with the cave wall supporting his back.

  Samuel rose to his knees and then to his feet as his injured leg threatened to send him crashing into the floor. He held Scout in his hand and locked eyes with Major.

  “I guess this is how it’s going to end for you,” he said to the old man.

  Major shook his head. “The girl. I think she may have stopped breathing.”

  Samuel looked over his shoulder at Mara. He had a hard time making out her form as the cloud descended even farther, the blackness spilling inside the cave like slow-moving, black ooze.

  “Look. Her chest isn’t moving.”

  Samuel shook his head and screamed. The cry of frustration filled the cavern and reverberated throughout the passages. He looked at Major and then turned to check on Mara.

  The sudden jolt of pain delivered to the back of Samuel’s head knocked him to the ground. Before his body crashed into the stone, he regretted turning his back on a wounded animal.

  Major crawled toward him after placing a lucky throw at the base of Samuel’s neck. Samuel saw dashing lights sparkling in his vision, while his stomach prepared an ejection that would be arriving soon. He tasted the bitter limestone in his throat and blinked it from his eyes. He could see Mara’s feet and he giggled, thinking of the witch’s feet extending from underneath the house in The Wizard of Oz. The movie scene overlaid his perception in the cave as the rock to the back of his head scrambled reality. He dug his nails into the dirt and pulled his body toward Mara. Sounds swirled in his head as he thought he heard music coming from the reversion outside. Guitar riffs traveled on the floaters in his vision as his senses, which had been dulled for so long inside this locality, came alive. He shook his head and spat a glob of saliva into the dirt, where it sat before being absorbed by the dryness of the powder.

  Get up, Samuel. Get up now, or Major is going to finish you off and leave this locality over two dead bodies. Get up.

  He heard the voice in his head as loud as if it were being yelled into his ears. It sounded like everyone and no one at the same time. The voice felt familiar but other-worldly. He managed to turn his body over and blink as his double vision registered two men crawling toward him on their knees, each holding a dagger in his right hand.

  Major staggered and stood, using the tire iron as a makeshift crutch. He slumped to one side like a shanty amidst urban decay. He raised the dagger, deciding to use the force of gravity to drive it through Samuel’s chest.

  “We are running out of time, my boy. And I don’t think I’ve got another lucky throw in this tired arm.”

  Samuel blinked as the blow to his head turned from disorienting to painful. He tasted more dirt in his mouth and hoped to spare a few more seconds until the ringing in his ears subsided enough for him to think.

  “You got a hell of an arm,” Samuel said, his words slurred.

  Major winced and recalibrated his stand. The tire iron was not long enough to provide the support he needed for his severed tendon. Samuel watched the man’s eyes and knew the pain was dulling his appetite for conversation.

  “It’s too bad you weren’t interested in having me as a travel partner. Think we coulda had some times,” Major said.

  Samuel watched as the dagger came up higher. Major bent his knees like a swimmer on the block, waiting for the sound of the starter pistol. Samuel gripped Scout in his right hand, where cold sweat gathered along with the adrenaline.

  Major leapt forward and brought the dagger down. He landed on top of Samuel, their eyes meeting. Their bodies remained motionless like lovers in an embrace. Neither spoke. Major’s mouth opened, but blood flowed from it instead of words. Samuel looked to his right where Major’s dagger stuck in the hard ground of the cave. He felt the warm trickle surrounding the hand that held Scout firmly lodged in Major’s chest. Samuel shifted his weight to the left and rolled, pushing Major’s body off his own. He left Scout inside Major, no longer feeling it served any purpose for him. The old man blinked, hi
s hand resting on the hilt of the knife.

  “I tried. I really tried. If you had just stayed there.”

  Major coughed, spurting blood over his lips and down his chin. He let out a low cackle and shook his head back and forth. “Let yer conscience go, son. This is how I was going out, not banished to another locality like some surly teenager sent to his room.” Another wracking cough made Major stop. His ragged breathing reduced his speech to mere whispers.

  “I’ve gotta check on Mara,” Samuel said, running a hand through his hair. When he looked back at Major, the man’s eyes remained open in the long, glassy stare of the dead.

  Samuel pushed away. His injured leg felt like a thousand pounds, and he continued to fight through double vision. Major’s words echoed in his head, forcing Samuel to think of his own childhood and all of the expectations he could never fulfill. He began to cry, a few tears at first, until he sobbed. The reversion continued to creep into the cave, unaware of his tender, emotional state.

  “Goddammit,” he said to nobody in particular.

  Samuel knelt and looked back at Major. The man’s corpse remained unchanged, his right hand wrapped around the handle of the blade that had stolen his life essence. Samuel looked over to Mara and couldn’t tell if her chest was moving.

  He felt the air pressure inside the cave change. The billowing cloud that had roiled overhead when he first arrived in the cursed forest had descended to nibble on the tips of the trees. He remembered it eating the light from the sky as it moved west to east. Samuel tried to calculate the number of days he spent in this locality, but he came up with nothing but a head-shaking guess, as if he were cataloging the events of a distant dream. Now, the cloud blotted out the entrance to the cave in a swirling mass of dark matter. It looked like a heavy, black velour curtain hung behind the walls, sealing the intestines of the mountain off from the carnage brought by the reversion.