Knights of the Apocalypse (A Duck & Cover Adventure Post-Apocalyptic Series Book 2)

by Benjamin Wallace

  There was no outrage from the courtroom. No whispers. Nothing. She had seen Jerry give these kinds of speeches a dozen times. She knew there was always lull before the roar. But it never lasted this long.

  She cocked her head. Any moment now, those who knew her to be right would begin to stir. Whispers would become cries. A rhyming slogan would be crafted in mere seconds and the crowd would begin to chant. They would demand justice. They would demand equality.

  Any minute now.

  She turned to face the crowd and saw no passion in the expressions. What the hell was wrong with these people?

  The king’s Hand spoke, “It’s not often the defendant opens by offending the throne. We shall tack that on to your list of offenses, but, for now, how do you plead to the killing of Sir Thomas, Sergeant of Arms of the Kingdom of the Five Peaks?”

  Erica looked up at the king. “The bastard was a rapist … uh, Your Honor.”

  The crowd gasped. She assumed it was more at the nerve of the words than the accusations. Everyone had to know what kind of man Tommy had been.

  The Hand cried, “You will not besmirch the name of a guardian of the realm!”

  “I’ll besmirch the shit out of him,” Erica snapped. “And while I’m besmirching, I’d like to add that you’re all idiots. You could be so much more, you could rebuil …”

  “Silence!” Elias boomed. “That world is dead. It didn’t work. It was devoid of honor and loyalty. It was a world of ease. There was too much in the hands of too many. It was a world where people fought for nothing, because they needed nothing.

  “You condemn our ways, but our ways work. Our ways are just. Our people are safe and work for what they have. This gives them more than material goods. It gives them honor. That’s what destroyed the world before ours. It wasn’t the bombs or the gas or the bugs. It was complacency.

  “Everyone had all that they needed. They wanted for nothing. Everyone was equal and that was the problem. A world with equals is a world without order.

  “We have order and order leads to happiness. It is honorable to struggle. It is honorable to rise above others. Tommy was an idiot. But he was a loyal idiot that had risen through the ranks with honor.”

  A cough from the audience interrupted the king. A snicker followed.

  Elias glared into the crowd for a moment before continuing. “You stand accused of murdering an honorable man. What say you?”

  Erica’s mouth hung open. She searched for words. “I … I don’t know what to say. I thought you were a bunch of fantasy nerds. I had no idea you were all shit nuts. My apologies for the confusion.”

  “Enough!” The king rose from his throne. His head displaced an acoustic tile and knocked his crown askew. He fixed it and delivered his verdict with a calm but firm voice. “For your crimes, you will be sent to the mines.”

  The crowd in the courtroom began to chant. “For your crimes. To the mines. For your crimes. To the mines.”

  There was the rhyming chant. Erica knew they had it in them.

  The double doors at the back of the room burst open and the Dog’s presence filled the room before he stepped through the doorway. It seeped into the room as a cloud of fear and darkness. A dozen knights rushed past him. Each brandished a rifle and they rushed to surround the court. The Dog pointed to the king. “Seize him.”

  “Guards!” the scribe shouted and rushed from behind his podium, elbows out to keep the billowing robe from his feet. “You can’t come in here …”

  The fist burst from the man in black. There was a sickening crack as the scribe’s head twisted violently. He collapsed to the ground in a pile of cloth like a child hiding beneath the covers. He could have been out cold, but he was most likely dead inside his cloak.

  The treacherous knights moved quickly to intercept anyone else bold enough to stand against them. A pair of guards rushed through the tapestry to answer the scribe’s call. They were immediately disarmed and thrown to the ground with a rifle in their back.

  Two of the knights rushed to the base of the throne, tried to climb and retrieve the king, couldn’t work the steps and shouted at him to come down.

  Elias stormed carefully down the throne a few steps. “What is the meaning of this?”

  “The princess is dead.” If Elias walked with a swagger, it was only fair to say the young prince walked with a strut. He came into the room with all of the flourish a flowing robe of royal purple would allow. This was a tremendous amount of flourish. It was clear he had been practicing.

  The crowd gasped at the news and the gossip mill fired up. Neighbors in the courtroom whispered what a horrible thing it was. Others argued it was the princess’s own fault. No, it was obviously the fault of whatever killed her. Whatever that turned out to be. The churn of gossip overpowered the prince’s explanation until the Dog fired a shot into the acoustic tiling of the great hall.

  They grew quiet before the report’s echo faded.

  The prince moved to the foot of the throne and turned to face the crowd. He cast an accusing finger at the king and spoke. “The princess is dead. Her body lies on the border of the Desert Kingdom. War with the south will soon be upon us and our great King Elias has let it happen.”

  The crowd erupted with like-minded accusations.

  The prince let them build for a moment before he shouted, “His failure to act has put us all in jeopardy! Our king has grown weak.”

  “How dare you!” Elias tried to rush the prince but was seized by the two knights at the base of the throne. “How can you men do this to me? I am your king!”

  Prince Robert spun with enough force that the purple robe lifted from the ground and brushed the king across the nose. “It’s time for a new king!” He smiled at Elias and began to climb the throne. He had been practicing this as well. “It’s time for a strong king. Someone who is willing to do what must be done to protect our kingdom. Someone who can lead us in this time of war against Rodney and his men. I want vengeance for my murdered wife. I want safety for our citizens. I want a future for the Kingdom of the Five Peaks.”

  Elias struggled at the arms of his captures to get free. He’d beat the young man to death if not restrained.

  The prince stood atop the throne with enough room to raise his arms. “Elias has failed us all! He has betrayed us. He refused to send knights after my wife. Instead he sent criminals. How can we trust a man like that?”

  A hand went up in the front row. The man in black slapped it down and growled. “It was rhetorical, Steve.”

  The prince rolled his eyes in a practiced, regal fashion and continued. “I will lead us to victory in the coming war! And I will expand this great nation. Elias has been hesitant to expand our borders.” The prince smiled. “He has become complacent.”

  Elias lurched and yanked his right hand free. He decked the knight on his left and charged toward the throne. “You traitorous bastard!”

  A pair of knights grabbed him and pulled him back.

  “Shut it, ‘Dad,’” the prince said, heavy on the sarcasm.

  “You ungrateful little shit.”

  “Whatever, Greg,” the prince said and waved to the knights. “Take them to the mines.” He turned and sat upon the throne. “And someone get me a cushion.”

  Knights loyal to the prince pulled Elias and Erica from the courtroom. Several knights loyal to the king were brought as well. The scribe did not move.

  The procession of prisoners was led down the street towards the mine. Bound by a short length of rope, Elias and Erica were in front of the line. Elias leaned in close to her. “So much for your great warrior. I guess everything I heard about him was wrong.”

  “Tommy said he was dead,” Erica said.

  “I’m pretty sure they would have told me that,” Elias said.

  Erica smiled. She had suspected Tommy was lying, but it was nice to have confirmation. “Then he’ll be coming for me.”

  Elias laughed. “Last I saw him, he had nothing but a broken down car and that
bear of yours. He’d need an army to get through our gates.”

  Erica laughed and shook her head.

  “What?” Elias asked.

  “You’d be surprised at how fast he can raise an army.”

  EIGHTEEN

  They had not been hard to find. Jerry had followed a trail of smoke into the forest not far off the tracks into the heart of an old mining camp. The mountain men, women and children had stared blankly at him as he wandered up the ruts of the path through the town.

  They were dirty and bathed in filth, but it was nothing compared to the mutants of Aztec. There seemed to be an acceptable level of disgusting that no one dared cross. It was somewhere barely above repugnant. But their clothes were not rags.

  They didn’t look hungry. Their skin wasn’t drawn. Their limbs weren’t frail. They wore the reported starvation surprisingly well. This was a good thing considering how many times something had tried to eat him in the last day.

  No one screamed at his presence. No one ran away. They studied the stranger that had wandered into their camp. Then someone recognized him from the train and everything got louder.

  It never ceased to amaze him how fast a mob formed. It was the opposite of asking for volunteers. It started with a “you bastard,” a quick explanation to one person within earshot, and then the people poured from tiny cabins like the huts were clown cars dropping off their fare. They amassed before him and began to scream and hiss. No one rushed forward. No one broke from the mob. They pressed forward with a steady march.

  His hands were empty. He had left the sword behind. The large duffel on his back was zipped shut and offered no threat. Jerry held up his hands and backed away. He never tried to speak during the genesis of a mob. They had their own priorities: threats had to be issued, insults had to be hurled, suitable punishment had to be debated and agreed upon. Not only would it be rude to interrupt, trying to speak over this phase of the mob angered them. Worst case, it made them begin the whole process over again and he simply didn’t have time for that.

  He let them back him up against a boulder at the edge of town. As expected, they paused. No one was sure why this was. But they always paused. Jerry always felt it was the mob’s way of giving the condemned a chance for last words before they tore him apart. If that were the case, he would have to choose them carefully.

  “First of all,” Jerry said, “let me apologize if I killed any of your friends or loved ones.”

  They didn’t rush. That was a good sign. But they started growling. That was less encouraging.

  “Tie him to the rail!”

  “Throw him in the canyon!”

  “Drown him!”

  “Tie him to the rail!”

  “You already said that, Sarah!”

  “I really like the idea!”

  Jerry raised his hands above his head and motioned for a calm that wouldn’t come. “All of those sound like perfectly good horrible deaths. And, considering our first encounter, very fitting. Especially tying me to the rail, very poetic.”

  “Thank you,” Sarah yelled. “See, Rob?”

  “But before we get to killing me, I’d like a chance to speak. When we met yesterday on the train, I didn’t know you. I didn’t know a thing about you. I had no idea who you were as a people. All I knew was that you were trying to kill me. I didn’t know your story. I didn’t know your struggles. I didn’t know your dreams.”

  “And you think you know that now?”

  Jerry nodded. “I know more. I know you’re probably not really horrible monsters and that Sarah dreams of one day tying me to a railroad track.”

  “Wow,” Sarah said. “He’s right.”

  “Yesterday we were people thrown together in an unfortunate situation. I tried to stab some of you. Some of you tried to stab me. Is that something we really want to dwell on?”

  A man in the front of the crowd growled, “You stuck a hatchet in my shoulder.”

  “Oh, that was you? Sorry about that,” Jerry said. “But I’m really glad you didn’t die.”

  The man sneered. “I should kill you right now.”

  “No, you shouldn’t.”

  “Why shouldn’t he?” another in the crowd asked.

  “Because we want the same thing.”

  “Oh yeah? You want you dead too?”

  “The prince.” Jerry let the answer hang in the air. “You want him taken out. I need him taken out. I think together we could take him out. If anything, I think that should make us friends.”

  Watching a mob think was an interesting thing. Individuals arrived at their conclusions sooner than others. Whether it was instinct or courtesy, they let others arrive at their own before speaking. Jerry watched the quickest thinkers’ expressions turn from decision to patience to a look of frustration as the stupider people caught up.

  “What makes you think we care about that piece of shit?” The words were meant to sound tough, but it was a legitimate question from a woman in the middle of the mob.

  “First of all,” Jerry said, “you called him a piece of shit.”

  Someone elbowed the woman in the middle of the crowd.

  “Second, he’s about to take over the kingdom, if he hasn’t already, and any deal you have with Elias is sure to die with him.”

  A large man, too round for a desperate cannibal, moved to the front of the mob and pointed a finger at Jerry. “What makes you think we have a deal with that tyrant?”

  “Because you’re fat.”

  “Hey.”

  Jerry ignored him. “Here’s my guess. You’re not really cannibals.”

  “Maybe we are,” a mother in the front of the crowd didn’t seem too convinced. The baby in her arms wailed. Who brings a baby to a mob?

  “Then why don’t you eat me?” Jerry suggested.

  “There is no need for that kind of talk, mister,” she scolded, and then blushed as the context caught up to her. “Oh, I get it.”

  “Maybe I’ll eat you,” the man with the gimp arm growled.

  “No, I don’t think so. After spending the day in Aztec, I’m confident I can spot a cannibal. And I don’t see anyone here that fits the bill. You’re better than that. You’re a good and decent people. I can tell.” Jerry turned and climbed to the top of the boulder.

  The mob did nothing to stop him. The mother in the front rocked her baby to stop the crying.

  Jerry stood and looked over the crowd. “I can tell by looking at you that you’re good people. Kind people. Families. Friends. But Elias needed an enemy. He needed a boogeyman. Monsters and ogres. He needed a troll under the bridge to protect the citizens from so he could maintain control of the kingdom. So he found you.”

  There were no arguments from the crowd beneath him.

  He continued. “He lets you rob a train every now and then to keep you fed and clothed. I think he sends morons to protect it. You make off with some food and your legend grows within the castle walls. You’re the monsters in the woods. You’re the boogeyman for an entire kingdom.”

  “You could probably dial down the name calling a bit,” a woman said.

  “And then he chases you. But, you escape. He forms search parties. He sends armies of knights and volunteers into the woods to find you. But he never has. Why do you think that is?”

  “We’re too smart for him,” said one man to a rousing cry of cheers.

  “I followed the smoke from your fires down a well-worn logging road and walked right into the middle of town. How well do you think you’re hiding?”

  “He’s scared of us,” another said. The mob believed this as well.

  “I think you’re right,” Jerry said.

  The mob patted the man who said it on the back.

  “I think he’s scared you’ll die off. I think he’s scared he won’t have a ghost story to tell his people. But more than that, I think you’re hungry. I think you’re tired. I think you think you’re in hiding. I think you’re doing everything you can to get by.

  “I think you�
��re the good guys. I wish I could have seen that before all the stabbing, and for that I’m sorry.” Jerry hung his head.

  The mob was silent. It was thinking again. Jerry watched the decisions arrive on the brightest. This time they didn’t hesitate and the man with the wounded arm spoke up, “It’s okay.”

  “Really?” the woman next to him asked. “He tried to kill you!”

  “Well, yeah, I mean. I was kind of trying to kill him first.”

  Another woman protested. “He killed Kevin!”

  “Is anyone really going to miss Kevin?”

  There was a collective shrug and the mob turned back toward Jerry.

  Jerry clasped his hands and mouthed the words thank you to the crowd.

  “So what now, smart guy?”

  Phase One had been to claim the mob and convince them not to kill him. With that done it was onto Phase Two. Pissing them off again. “If Elias is deposed and the prince takes the throne, I’m worried the free ride is up. That kid isn’t looking to keep the peace. He’s looking for war. And, from what we all saw on the train, he’s not going to put up with you raiding the train anymore.”

  “We weren’t expecting the guns,” a man in the crowd said.

  “If the prince takes over, you can expect a lot more. He’s not the romantic that Elias is. He wants blood and war and he’ll be coming for you.”

  “What does it matter? You can’t get the prince. He’s back on the inside and he’s not coming out.”

  Jerry nodded. “We have to storm the castle.”

  The crowd laughed at this. The baby in the mother’s arm reacted to the crowd with a chuckle of its own.

  “We can do this.”

  One voice spoke for the crowd. “The hell we can.”

  “I have a plan.”

  “And they have knights, and walls.”

  Jerry pulled the duffel bag from his back, unzipped it and dropped it to the ground in front of the boulder. It rattled when it hit the ground and the barrel of a shotgun spilled out. “I also have guns.”

  A few men from the crowd stepped toward the bag and pulled some of the weapons out. One man cradled a shotgun and looked up at the man on the rock. “Who are you? Why should we trust you?”