Apocalyptic Fears II: Select Bestsellers: A Multi-Author Box Set

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Apocalyptic Fears II: Select Bestsellers: A Multi-Author Box Set Page 87

by Greg Dragon


  Who am I kidding? This is personal and nothing more. It’s for me, so maybe I can sleep at night somewhere down the line. Sleep alone.

  They made their way across the back streets, heading right towards the small church where the Manchester Ward of The Eventuals were based — their numbers growing daily as more people gave up what little hope they had been clinging to.

  Although Edsel would have preferred it for Aiden to stay away, the truth was that he was invaluable as an ally. He could sense others if he focused, meaning that as they made their way slowly but surely into the lion’s den Edsel at least knew when it was safe to proceed. But conversely, any Awoken Eventuals would feel them approaching too, and these were men who may have a lot more experience of their Awoken states — Aiden was a boy of twelve and very scared, although he was doing amazingly well, there was no denying it.

  They made their way closer.

  This is like the absolute opposite of what any sane person would do. Am I thinking straight? This is suicide. Is that what I want?

  The small church was on a relatively quiet back street, surrounded by other streets just like it. They intersected at junctions, curved around to meet with once busy thoroughfares, with a few cul-de-sacs mixed in too. An urban sprawl with little in the way of rhyme or reason as far as Edsel could see, when he’d studied the map of this part of the city. But at least it gave them opportunities and alternate routes as they made their way closer to the church.

  Moving fast, and trying to stay in the shade as much as possible, they got closer street by street. Now they were well within the half-mile radius that seemed to be the tipping point for many Awoken to sense others, so adrenaline was pumping hard and Edsel could see Aiden’s nerves were fraying the closer they got. The boy was locked in a frown of concentration, trying to direct them in the best way to keep them from being seen. The chance of there being any Awoken near was remote, as they would be spread all over the city looking for new recruits, seeking out those with nothing to lose — shining brightly in The Noise like beacons of vulnerability and despair. Easy pickings.

  They crossed a quiet street and went down the side of a semi-detached house, through the garden and out into a small piece of scrub land, full of the junk of years. Pile after pile of refuse, discarded furniture and countless other abandoned household items.

  Aiden put a hand to Edsel’s shoulder delicately and whispered that there was a man to their right, somewhere on the street they were heading for. With a nod, Edsel signaled he understood and whispered for Aiden to stay put and wait for him to return. Aiden looked worried, but agreed with a reluctant hint of a smile. The weather was really hotting up, the air was heavy and silent, as if holding its breath to see what would happen, burning Edsel into action, making it impossible for him to stay out in the open.

  Insects buzzed around the few tufts of grass and weeds trying to survive amid the junk, teasing Edsel, landing on his skin, daring him to try to swat at them. His seeping sores were a magnet for the creatures; he had to go.

  Edsel went to hunt a man for the first time in his life.

  ***

  He crept through the detritus of modern society, careful to avoid the trash, the bicycles, old mattresses and wardrobes; a small patch of the city that had become a dumping ground when there was no other option. The heat pricked him as the sun came out from behind a wisp of cloud — relief that had lasted mere seconds — and the sweat fizzled to the surface again. The insects got busy, becoming more and more animated at the welcome intrusion. His skin was slick yet dry at the same time, itching as the scabs tightened in the heat, the red shining like the stop sign on the traffic lights that once controlled the flow of vehicles around the busy metropolis.

  Like this isn’t stressful enough, now I have to deal with these damn flies. Ugh, geddof me, leave me alone.

  Edsel found it nigh on impossible not to slap his skin, the torture escalating to new heights, mocking him as he tried to make his way through the reminder of all that was lost.

  Finally, he made it to the glorious shade at the side of a row of houses, and skirted to the end of the row so he could get out to the front and find his quarry.

  I’m a bloody stalker. I’m hunting a man, this is insane.

  There he was, a man as red as him, yet clothed, only hands and head showing The Ink. He was going from door to door, checking manually for anyone hiding out so close to the church. He looked bored, like it was a daily patrol and he’d done it countless times before.

  Probably just a simple duty he has to do, just to check the area is clear around the church.

  As the man went into a house, Edsel ran down the street and went through the open gate and stood to the side of the bright green front door. He could hear the man stomping loudly up the stairs, hear doors being flung open, the house checked for occupancy.

  Bet he doesn’t even bother looking really, just doing his patrol as those are his orders.

  Edsel stepped inside, pushing the door closed quietly behind him, flipping the latch so it locked.

  Payback.

  He heard the man coming down the stairs, clearly unconcerned about declaring his presence. Edsel moved into the kitchen; he hid behind the open door and waited. The footsteps got closer; Edsel held his knife in his right hand and tried to stop his heart hammering in his chest. Surely the man could hear it? It beat louder than a drum.

  Get ready, get ready. No fear, just do it. Like in the pub, don’t think, just act.

  Edsel’s heart hammered louder and louder, the blood pumping so fast it was making his ears pound. His head throbbed like an inflating balloon.

  The man was in the kitchen, just inside the doorway, quickly scanning the room. Edsel focused on the red skin at the nape of the man’s neck and lunged silently with the knife. It buried deep, just to the side of bone. Edsel’s hand was soaked in blood in an instant, and the man fell to the floor as he let go of the knife. Edsel crouched quickly and went to pull it out — it was surprisingly hard to reclaim and he had to put a foot onto the man’s back for purchase. Knife retrieved, he rolled him over. He was dead.

  Just like that? So quick, so easy. It isn’t right.

  It felt wrong, like life shouldn’t be so simple to take. Was it really so easy to kill a man? Just a quick stab and you had taken a life, on purpose, fully aware of what you intended? Shouldn’t it take more than that? It felt the same as in the pub, as if there should be a banging of drums, a crashing of cymbals, the Grim Reaper himself appearing, a bolt of lightning coming down, declaring the gravity of such an event.

  Nothing. Just a quick movement of the hand and you were a murderer.

  I should feel more, puke up, fall into a heap, be a gibbering wreck. What’s wrong with me?

  He felt light-headed, almost as if he were leaving his body. This was wrong, so wrong. To take a life fully aware of what you intended to do, a crime against the preciousness of existence; one more person gone from the planet that now held so few. But these people were the ones that happily corrupted the desperate and the lonely — the takers of souls, the scourge that wanted to wipe the world clean of humanity and let it flourish without man’s interfering.

  It still felt wrong.

  After all, maybe this man had been taken and indoctrinated just like so many others. Or maybe he fully believed in his new religion. It didn’t matter, he was dead now. He had been a part of The Eventuals and they were ruining what was left of humanity. He had to do it, for those hiding in the dark, for those trying to make lives for themselves. For Kathy.

  For myself.

  Edsel prised open the fingers of the dead man and pocketed the knife still grasped tightly, then quickly ran up the stairs into the bedroom. In the wardrobe was a row of shirts on hangers — a reward for heinous crimes committed it seemed. He picked a black one, a short-sleeved modern style with distress at the sleeves and collar, slightly washed out, graying.

  Probably done on purpose to make it look older. The things we did.
/>   Gratefully he put it on, did up the buttons with ever-sore fingers, then descended the stairs and went to get Aiden.

  ***

  “You okay?”

  “Fine. You did it didn’t you?”

  “Yeah,” said Edsel grimly. “I did it. Come on, let’s go.”

  They walked toward the street Edsel had just returned from, getting closer and closer to the church. Edsel knew that the chances were high it would be mostly empty. There was a daily routine that involved them meeting there in the mornings and the evenings, but for most of the day there were only a few people present. The tattooists were usually there, giving The Ink to some poor soul, or grateful devotee, depending on the circumstances, and Bishop was usually present, checking on things, taking reports from the Ward he was in charge of.

  Others came and went, but mostly they were out spreading the word, hunting those that could swell their numbers, tracking and killing any Whole they could find that didn’t support their ideology. They were little more than a death-squad when you got right down to it. A mockery of a religion that preyed on the weak and unstable and killed anybody that stood in their way.

  Well, not today. Today there would be a little bit of payback. The hunted had become the hunter; he would have his pound of flesh.

  NEXT

  “I could do it, I think. I could kill him through The Noise, like I did the man in the apartment building.” Aiden looked at Edsel to see what he thought.

  “I don’t want you to, that was different. So was the man at the car, but this?” There was another Eventual, this time a young kid really, nothing more. He was just stood around, obviously charged with searching the area like Edsel’s last victim, but not really having the heart for the job. He was leaning against a lamppost, doing nothing. Bored.

  Kids are all the same. And look at his head, obviously had The Ink just recently, he’s still scabby. Bet he has some nice soothing lotion and painkillers though.

  Edsel didn’t want Aiden to be involved in the killing if he could possibly help it — he found it hard enough himself to think about killing another man once the strange feeling settled in the pit of his stomach after the life he had just taken. It wouldn’t go away and he knew it would be there with him forever. He was changed, he had taken a life on purpose, planned it, wanted to do it. It was wrong, but they were worse than the act; there was no choice.

  There wasn’t, was there?

  “I don’t think this is a good idea? Do you?”

  Aiden shook his head. “No.”

  “You’re right, it’s not. Killing is wrong. I thought it would be the right thing to do, make it better, but I don’t feel better after killing that man, I feel worse. It’s wrong to take a life, so wrong. Maybe we should leave, just get away? Leave them to it? I don’t know.” Edsel’s head was a mess, he didn’t think it would affect him like this but it had. Was he just as bad as them? Was he a coward? Would all of this make a difference? Maybe it would. Maybe fighting back would be the spark others needed to try to stop the insanity of The Eventuals — already it had spread right across the country, the only real religion left in any meaningful number.

  Aiden interrupted him. “If we leave though, they’ll carry on killing everyone left, all of them. Women, children, everyone.” He looked to Edsel for the answer, but he didn’t have one.

  “I know buddy, I know. It’s just... the killing, it’s like I broke the only thing keeping me being the man I am. Like I damaged what was good inside, and now... I don’t know, what can we do?”

  “We have to do it, we have to stop them. Some of them anyway. The Bishop, the one running it at least. And the men that give The Ink. If we stop them then it’s something, right?”

  “Yeah, maybe that’s enough. For Kathy, for me, for you too. Come on, let’s leave that kid alone, I don’t think he’s anything to worry about.”

  With thoughts in turmoil, the plan he’d envisioned no longer the straightforward image of him wreaking bloody revenge, with no thought as to how it actually felt, gone from his mind, they skirted the street and made their way closer. They left the boy to his idleness, a bored red devil in a street otherwise devoid of people.

  It wasn’t supposed to be like this, it wasn’t supposed to make him feel so much. He thought it would be all bloody and vengeance-soaked, not full of emotion.

  It really isn’t like the movies. Killing hurts, it rips at your soul.

  He’d had a vision of himself bringing down bloody retribution on such corruption, but all he felt was sick to his stomach for taking lives — who knew life could be extinguished so easily? This was what differentiated him from them though, right? What made him the good guy? He hated it; they reveled in it. Wanted it.

  Better to be a reluctant killer than one that enjoys it like they do. That’s got to count for something.

  Edsel’s head was a mess; nothing made sense.

  No, this isn’t right.

  “Come on,” said Edsel, grabbing Aiden by the arm, turning him around and beginning to march away.

  “What? Where are we going?”

  “I’m taking you to Bob’s, to somewhere safe. This may be wrong, but it has to be done, but I will not be responsible for the corruption of a young boy. I don’t want you involved in this, it’s not right. You shouldn’t be here.”

  “But you need me, you need me to help you get to them. They’ll get you if I don’t.”

  “That’s a risk I’m willing to take, but I’m not willing to risk your life like this. I wasn’t thinking straight because of the pain, but I see it now. I’m as bad as them, corrupting children.”

  Aiden pulled up short, staring defiantly at Edsel. “I am not a child, I hate them too you know?”

  “I know, but it doesn’t make this right. No arguments, we’re going. When you’re safe I will come back and finish this, not before.”

  Aiden was silent, but he let himself be directed away from the hive of Eventuals, tracing back the route they had already taken.

  “Bob?” asked Aiden hopefully.

  “Bob,” agreed Edsel, nodding.

  Daft old bugger.

  ***

  “Sorry, I’m so sorry. I waited, but I really didn’t expect you to come back for this old fool.”

  “You’re part of the team now,” said Aiden, running to Bob and giving him a big hug.

  “You’re awake,” said Edsel, a statement, not a question.

  “Well, yeah. Please, let me explain. I know what you must think of me.” Bob suddenly realized something, “Hey, have you done it? Is this still the same day? Was it that quick?”

  “No, change of plan. I’m not going to be responsible for the corruption of a child. Sorry, young man. Can we go to yours?”

  “Eh? What? Of course, I understand. Can I please explain, about The Lethargy?”

  “Later, we need to go. They’ll be after us.”

  Edsel wasted no time, he went ahead and this time he checked there were no Eventuals waiting and in a few minutes they were back in the car, heading away from the city once more.

  What was I thinking? What kind of man gets kids involved in things like this? The world is messed up enough already without making it worse. Damn, he should be out kicking a ball around with his mum shouting to him to come in for his supper.

  Dark thoughts crowded Edsel’s mind as he drove away from the corrupted city. Bob and Aiden were quiet, sensing the mood. Finally, Bob spoke up, clearly unable to bear it any longer.

  “Please, you have to let me explain.”

  “Okay, go ahead. Look, it’s not like we blame you, we understand.”

  “Really? Wow. I figured you would have gone ballistic when I... you know.”

  “Is it The Creeping?”

  “I think so.”

  “It is,” said Aiden. “I can see it.”

  “What? How?” Bob focused on Aiden. “Oh, you’re Awoken. I forgot.”

  Aiden just nodded, clearly still smarting from Edsel’s decision.


  “I’ve had it for about four or five months now, but it hasn’t been too bad so far. I can still do everything for myself, manage the garden, the animals. But, well, it just comes over me, like it does everyone I suppose. One minute I’m fine, the next I find myself coming back to reality and don’t remember what happened. Usually it’s a few minutes, an hour at most, and it only happens once a week or sometimes less often... I think.”

  “So why didn’t you tell us? You put us at risk back there Bob, we could have been out on the street, or having to run from them. You wanted to drive!”

  “I know, I know. When you came? When I realized you were good people? I thought that I had sort of a last chance. A chance to do something good, to fight back. I guess I wanted to feel useful before it was all over and I wasn’t capable of anything apart from just being a vegetable.”

  “You should have said,” muttered Edsel.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s done, and I understand. The Lethargy has taken everything away from us, all of us. You wanted to do something, feel like you were rallying.”

  “Exactly. I’m glad you understand.”

  “Well, now you really can do something to help Bob. You can look after Aiden while I go back and do what I planned to do. Those buggers can’t be allowed to get away with it, they simply can’t. I’ll deal with them. I’ll do it for you, I’ll do it for Aiden and me, I’ll do it for everyone that lost everything. I will kill those men for what they did to Kathy.”

  ***

  Edsel pulled up outside Bob’s house and helped unload the car.

  “Promise me you’ll look after him,” said Edsel, putting an arm on Aiden’s shoulder and squeezing.

  “I promise,” said Bob.

  “And you,” said Edsel, crouching down and staring Aiden right in the eye, “you promise me that you’ll look after Bob, just until I get back.”

  “I promise,” said Aiden, hugging Edsel. He tried not to wince as the boy clutched him tightly.

 

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