Tommy smiled at Jerry. “Well. Looks like justice is moving extra fast today. Ewe’ll be in the myne in no time at all.” He signaled two of the guards. “Bring the prisoners.”
“No,” the boy spoke again. “Just the dude. That’s what the king said.”
“Isn’t that interesting?” The knight cocked his head and shoved Jerry forward. “Take this one to the king. Leave the girl with me.” Tommy leaned in and whispered, “What do you think of that?”
Jerry whispered back. “I already warned you. You’ll lose every hand that touches her.”
“Yeah, but your big bad Hannibal isn’t around now.”
Jerry smiled and shook his head. “You still don’t get it, do you? It’s not me or the dog you need to be afraid of.” A knifepoint in his stomach caused Jerry to step back.
Tommy waved good-bye with the dagger and the guards led Jerry away.
They escorted him down Twelfth Street and Jerry tried to take everything in and file it away. The buildings, the guards, the people—he tried to remember all of it, but there was simply too much purple. His eye was drawn to the ram’s skull crest on the field of purple and gold. The icon hung from every post and structure. It was stitched onto every armed man in the town. “I’m guessing the king’s mother was a seamstress?”
One of the knights grunted, “His sister.”
“Oh,” Jerry said. “Why the ram skull?”
The other knight shrugged. “Because it looks badass.”
Jerry nodded. “I can’t argue with that.”
There were many arguments to be made with that. But Jerry was too relieved to bother making them. He half expected a ram’s skull to be the king. Like the Lord of the Flies, perhaps the people of the kingdom had been driven mad by the isolation. Or maybe it was the altitude. He had seen stranger things. One town in the Midwest followed the laws set down by a prized chicken. Another place farther south had elected a dog as mayor. One back east prayed and followed the laws of an old Volkswagen. They were delivered for the Volkswagen by a man named Hank. Or Hank was their leader and lived in the Volkswagen. He wasn’t certain.
These could have all been attempts to dodge responsibility. If the crops failed or people died, it was much easier to pin the misfortune on a goat or German engineering than it was for a person to shoulder the blame. But it didn’t matter why these totems were adopted; the people that served beneath were always absolutely crazy.
The guards turned him down Elias Street and the purple got worse. It hung from buildings as far as he could see and fought with the white of the snow to be the town’s dominant color.
To say an apocalypse had occurred, the town’s buildings were well maintained and in relatively good shape. They appeared freshly painted and even the store windows were maintained with artistic displays. Each was draped in purple and gold, of course.
Despite the color scheme, the citizens of the town appeared happy, healthy and better groomed than most of the places he had visited. No one rushed. They strolled in pairs or small groups, smiling, laughing and only looking over their shoulders when a friend called out. Children played and their mothers watched them with carefree smiles.
“It seems … nice,” Jerry said, trying to spark conversation with the guards.
“Yeah, it’s a friggin’ fairy tale. Keep moving.”
Any attempt at conversation from that point on was answered with the broad side of a sword slapped across his calves, so Jerry decided to finish the walk in silence.
The knights directed him to the town hall. A pair of guards at the entrance stood at their approach.
The guard on his right jerked a thumb in Jerry’s direction. “He’s waiting for this one.”
The doormen nodded and pulled the double doors open. “He said to go on in.”
The other guard at the door examined Jerry. “Who the hell is this guy?”
The escort pushed him through the door. “Who cares? If the king is in such a hurry to see him, it means the king is in a hurry not to see him.”
It was warm inside. The train ride had been so frigid he had forgotten he was cold. He enjoyed the warmth so much that he hesitated when he was called down the hallway. One of the guards threw a shoulder into him and drove him down the hallway and into the great hall.
Jerry laughed when he saw the throne and he received a slap across the back of his head for his sense of humor.
“Enough.” The voice came from atop the mass of twisted metal. The king sat in obvious discomfort but his voice still filled the great hall. “Remove his shackles and leave us.”
The guards hesitated to comply.
“But, sire, he’s dangerous,” one said.
“He and his woman beat six men in the market,” the other added.
“Nine,” Jerry said, and felt the sword point in his back. “Well, it was.”
The king waved a tired hand. “I know what this man is capable of and I appreciate your concern, but I wish him uncuffed and I wish to speak to him alone.”
The guards dropped their argument and removed the bindings. They backed away, but did not leave the room.
Jerry couldn’t tell where the man had been standing, but a small figure in a robe that was much too large emerged from the shadows and whispered to the guards, “Your king told you to leave. Why are you still here?”
The guards jumped at the sound of the man’s voice and did not question the king again. They left the courtroom and pulled the doors shut behind them.
Jerry looked at the man on the throne. He sat reclined, his arms outstretched. He wore a harsh gaze and a purple robe with sleeves that draped the top of the throne. He said nothing. The two men measured each other with stares for several seconds.
Jerry broke the silence. “That looks uncomfortable.”
The king sat forward, tilting his head to clear the ceiling along the way. He leaned forward with his hands on the throne’s arms as if he were about to leap. “You have no idea.” Elias slithered out of his seat and made his way down the stairs. “I asked for something grand and symbolic.” He reached the foot of the throne and turned to look at it. “I think they did what I asked out of spite.”
“Could be worse, I guess. I know a lot of people that don’t have any thrones.”
The man in the cloak scolded him. “You should not speak to the king that way.”
“Take it easy, Gargamel. The king and I are talking.”
Gargamel looked to the king.
“It’s all right, Jeffery. Please leave us.”
“But, sire …”
The king waved his hand and the man in the robe bowed before disappearing out the double doors. The king placed his face in his hands and rubbed away a headache.
“Heavy is the head, huh?”
The king pointed to the throne. “Red is the ass. I doubt you got to see much of our kingdom on the way in.”
“I saw enough to jump to a few conclusions. And, despite the tapestry of you getting your smite on, you don’t seem crazy.”
“That’s kind of you to say.” Elias leaned back and rubbed his lower back. “Sometimes I wonder.”
“I’ve met my share of kings. Most are nut jobs ruling over a kingdom of melons, or peasantry of sheep. This one guy ruled over a kingdom full of dolls he found in burned out buildings. He had them all lined up in front of him in his throne room.”
Elias cringed.
“Yep,” Jerry said. “It was creepy.”
“My people are happy here. They’re safe and they’re fed.” Elias held out his arms to let the robe flow. “If this pageantry gives them that comfort, then I’m happy to play my role.”
“Probably doesn’t hurt having all the servants at your beck and call.”
Elias chuckled. “I’m not going to lie. It’s good to be the king.”
“But you’ve got a problem?”
The king nodded. “I do.”
“Something or someone is threatening to undo all of this and take it all away from you. To bri
ng your kingdom crumbling down around you. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here with you. I’d be in the mines with the rest of the dissidents.”
Elias nodded again. “You would.”
“Now that doesn’t sound like the act of a benevolent ruler.”
The king turned up his palms. “What choice do I have? This town didn’t have a dungeon.”
“I’ll give you props for creative problem solving. You get your dungeon and your silver and gold.”
“You’d be surprised how much they left down there when they closed this place. If you dig deep enough.”
“Sounds delightful.”
Elias waved his hands. “There’s no need for you to find out. I want to give you a job.”
“Why me?”
The king smiled. “Well, it was nine men.”
“Could have been ten. You’ve got an army of knights. Why do you need me?”
“My men are loyal, brave and capable. But there are things even they can’t do. My kingdom unexpectedly has business in a neighboring realm. It’s a kingdom we are peaceful with. But it is an uneasy peace. If my men were found there it would be a violation of the truce. I can’t risk a war. But, you’re not one of my knights. You could go. You’re not even a citizen here.”
“I think the technical term is prisoner.”
“You came here looking for an auto part, yes?”
“That’s right.”
“But you have no gold.”
“Nothing with your face on it.”
“Macroeconomics were never my thing, but my advisors tell me it’s time to rein in the currency that’s in circulation. We don’t want inflation getting out of hand.”
“Well, see, that’s what I figured.”
“If you do this for me, I will give you enough gold to buy any car you want.”
“A king’s ransom?”
Elias smiled again. “Not quite.”
“I don’t know, Your Highness. You seem like a pretty fair guy and my wife and I were just defending ourselves against some common thugs. I might want to throw myself on your mercy.”
Elias bit his lip. “No, I don’t think you’d want to do that.” The king turned and climbed painfully back to his throne. “The world is not as big as it was yesterday, you know.” Elias turned and sat back on the uncomfortable throne. “It had grown for a while. Nobody talked. But things are getting better. Communication is picking back up and we rulers of men are in better contact than you might think. We may not like each other, but we talk.”
Jerry’s stomach sank. The king didn’t have a suspicion. He knew exactly who he was.
“I know who you are, Librarian. And I know what you’re worth. Even I consider it a lot. And I’ve got my own face on my money.”
“You seem to be as confused as the men in the market. I’m not …”
“You should just be thankful that your skills, if your reputation is to be believed, are worth more to me than some bounty from back east. Or the political capital I could score with Alasis. Do this and you and Erica and,” the king chuckled, “Chewy go free. With my blessing and my gold.”
Options played through his head. Most of them ended with his head in a bag bound for the east or with him stuck in a mine surrounded by a town full of lunatics. And what would happen to Erica?
“I can see you’re conflicted. So, to show you how generous I am, I’ll offer you something more than gold. Something you can’t get anywhere else.”
“One of those bitchin’ robes?”
The king ignored the remark. “I’m sending a group of men that are unaffiliated with my rule into the country. You go with them and ensure their success and I will welcome you as a citizen of my kingdom under any name you choose. The running can end, Jerry. You can be Michael and Jennifer or whatever you want. You’ll have the word of my kingdom to anyone who asks.”
The chance to start over was tempting and didn’t end up with his head and body being too far apart.
“I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, but I’m no assassin.”
“Of course not. You’re one of the good guys. And that’s what I need right now. I need a white knight to ride to the rescue.”
“You need me to slay a dragon? Where’s his cave?”
“No,” Elias leaned forward awkwardly. “I need you to rescue a princess. And I know exactly where she is.”
SEVEN
Erica stood on the street waiting for Jerry to emerge from the town hall. Her arms were folded against the cold and Chewy lay on the ground next to her with her paws crossed. She took in a relieved breath as Jerry emerged from the building unrestrained and unescorted. Chewy stumbled to her feet and ran to meet him. He crossed over to her and kissed her on the head.
“Well?” Erica asked. “They let us go and told us to wait here. So what did you agree to do this time?”
Jerry mumbled, “Rescue a princess.”
Erica spoke mumble. “Are you serious?”
Jerry nodded and pointed down the street. They started to walk towards the center of town.
“A princess?” Erica asked. “What kind of twisted fairy tale did we step into?”
“It seems a little less silly if you think of it as a good old-fashioned kidnapping.”
“Except it’s a princess,” Erica said.
“The girl was taken last night. They’re not even sure how it happened.”
“I’m going to say it again. You have to go rescue a princess.”
“You’re right. It still sounds silly. But, it will get us what we need.”
“One princess for a fuel pump? Sounds like a normal everyday trade. Then we get to leave?”
“Then we get to stay,” Jerry said.
Erica stopped. “Why the hell would we want to stay?”
“If I rescue the prin … missing girl, we will be granted citizenship.”
“But I forgot my ten-sided dice back in—” Erica pointed over her shoulder, “high school.”
Jerry took her hands in his. They were warm and comforting. He looked deep into her eyes. She hated when he did that for effect. He spoke softly which meant he wanted her to listen. “We can finally be Mike and Jennifer Parker. We can stop running.”
“And you get to rescue a princess.”
Jerry smiled and dropped her hands. “Stop that.”
“But that’s it, right? We do this and that’s it. No revolution? No great rebellion? You’re not going to raise an army and march against injustice?”
“I don’t do that that much.”
“It’s your worst habit.”
“I want to disappear as much as you do,” Jerry said. “This makes it happen.”
“You say that, but I know you. It happens every time. We could just sneak away, but you’re just too much of a good person.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m working on that.”
“You can’t save everyone.” She hated herself for saying it. But wasn’t it the way of the world now? People would always suffer somewhere. He couldn’t save them all. Every time he did, things only got worse for them. She realized she could always leave him. They wouldn’t be looking for her if she wasn’t with him. She could even go home. She could just walk away. But she wouldn’t. He was too good of a person.
“Right now I just want to save us.”
The town’s polish faded as they moved farther in. Soiled toilers replaced the carefree strollers near the gates and Erica could see a clear distinction between those who did the work and those who enjoyed the benefits of the labor.
Men and women hid their faces between sunken shoulders as they worked in storefronts and in the streets. Their shoulders sagged like the corners of their mouths and they said little to anyone. Even their clothes were a stark contrast to that of those she had seen earlier. Soiled and thread-worn, they were held together with scraps of patches and different colored threads.
Nowhere was this more evident than the town square itself. The crowd that had gathered, or possibly been corralled the
re, was larger than the one in the marketplace. Filthy men that stunk of sweat and exhaustion massed at the center of the open area before an ornate platform. It didn’t have the energy of the marketplace crowd. Everyone stood silently. They didn’t mill or mingle; they stood facing the stage, waiting.
Erica looked around at the crowd and leaned over to Jerry. “What are we doing here?”
Jerry shrugged. “The king told me to come here and volunteer. He wants it to look like I’m with everyone else.”
“I don’t like the look of this. These people look so sad. Well, except her. What the hell is her problem?”
“Who?”
“The one that’s staring at you.”
Her looks had survived the apocalypse without a scratch or scarring or remote disfiguring. The cold air colored her cheeks red in a way that would make Maybelline envious and the jet black hair that hung from beneath a wool cap made the color that much richer. Dark green eyes stared through the crowd at the couple and a full smile grew across her face. Once the girl saw Jerry looking back, her mouth dropped open and she pushed her way through the crowd.
“Oh shit,” Erica said as she turned away. “You made eye contact.”
The woman weaved and ducked through one last part of the crowd. She rushed toward them squealing. “Jerry! Is it you!”
With the vast majority of the world’s population dead or mutated beyond recognition, running into an acquaintance from before the apocalypse made for an awkward situation. Family was often embraced at high speed with a running leap that usually ended poorly for the smaller of the two family members. Once recovered, they would catch each other up on what had happened since the end of the world. It never took more than a couple of minutes, because, though events always seemed harrowing at the time, in the end not much really happened worth sharing.
Enemies, business rivals, former bullies and shitty neighbors were also embraced, though less emphatically and rarely with a leap. Almost universally, grudges were forgotten, transgressions were forgiven and both parties would stand and marvel at how fast bad blood could be destroyed by a nuclear holocaust. Finding a familiar face within the fallout was enough to wipe the slate clean. Often, these rivals ended up becoming the closest of friends since the relationship was built on an unsteady foundation of mistrust and contempt. And, since neither party trusted, or genuinely liked, each other, they were sure to keep a wary eye on one another.
Knights of the Apocalypse (A Duck & Cover Adventure Post-Apocalyptic Series Book 2) Page 6