Dead Ahead

by Park, Grant

  He didn’t stop; his step nor his own personal rant to the Angels. On occasion he would find himself shouting to the sky, demanding that the Angels give him more powers, power to continue and power to smite those who found the audacity to stand against him; he was blessed with both, the Angels whispered in his ears sweet encouragement and promises, and so he found the strength to push himself through the burning pain and woeful exhaustion; his corrupted body was a blessing, it gave him strength.

  The world passed him by, he let nothing stand in his path; he encountered many Husks, those slow shambling creatures, as he strode on by; he paid them no heed, they were not his enemy now, the Angels had a thirst for living blood, and so did Frank!

  The waves licked his boots as he stood at the water’s edge, the light was fading but Frank could still make out the large building through the trees on the island opposite him; they were in there, Frank could smell it!

  His hands shook with anticipation, he felt like diving face first into the lake to feel the cold water on his blistered and burned skin, but he resisted the urge; he had much more pressing matters to attend to. He scoured the banks of the lake, looking for a boat that he could steal; was it really theft? No! It all belonged to him now, it was his by right. He sneaked silently along past great hoards of Husks amassed in the streets, he could see a forest of yacht masts gently swaying in the dusk, all tied up along several pontoons, he threw his towel sacks over a fence and hopped over after them, in a manner much livelier than he felt he was capable of, he rolled across the hard wooden slats grazing his shoulder, sending fire burning through his flesh; it only spurred him on.

  There was a nice small yacht tied at the very end of the pontoon; Frank had never sailed a boat before, but how hard could it really be? The wind had started to pick up, blowing in the direction of the island, but it brought with it dark menacing clouds which quickly cut out the last of the light from the waxing moon. Frank fumbled with the ropes trying to raise the main sail, many of them didn’t seem to do anything but finally the top of the sail shot up; only a little though, he had to unclip some elasticised straps before the whole sail would go to the top of the mast, the wind caught it instantly and the boat strained on the ropes to be free. He took a cleaver from his pocket and chopped through the ropes, allowing the boat to sail gently free from the pontoon. Sailing was easy.

  It was pitch black and raining in blister cooling sheets of rain by the time he got fully underway, the boat didn’t move nearly as fast as he hoped it would, he kept losing the wind in the sail and the long bottom pole that the sail was attached to kept swinging around and nearly hitting him on the head. The darkness was a great hindrance too, he couldn’t see a thing in front of him for a good part of the journey, until he found a high powered LED lamp in the hold down below; he locked the steering stick into position and climbed to the front of the boat to get a better look and see if he could spot the island. As soon as he flicked the great beam of light out ahead of him his heart sank, there was a great copse of trees straight ahead of him, and the light also struck what was unmistakably a wing of the grand house that stood on the island. It was far too late to slow the boat now, he braced for impact. The boat gave a great ‘boom’ as it crashed into the rocks and Frank was thrown from the front of the boat into the water, the experience wasn’t nearly as pleasurable as he thought it would be before.

  He dragged himself out of the water coughing and spluttering and lay between the tree trunks for a moment, letting thick blobs of rain drip from the leaves onto his face; the rain was deeply refreshing after so long out in the blazing sunshine, he would happily have lain there all night if he had not caught the scent of smoke in the air. Frank sat bolt upright, his chest complained at the movement but he ignored it, he flipped around on to all fours and stared crawling through the darkness; but it wasn’t darkness, not all of it! He could see light up ahead, a very dim orange flickering light; Frank kept crawling forwards, but soon rose to his feet, the excitement was too much for him. He ran as fast as he could, and damn the noise; he nearly ran right into the wall before realising how close to the window he was. He could hear the fire crackle and pop behind the glass as he rested his hands against it; they were in there! He had found them!

  Frank gently placed the blade of the cleaver under the old sash window and levered it up slowly, to his astonishment, it slid up with only a slight hissing sound; he had had to use a hammer to open the ones in his mother’s house. Frank climbed in and peeked through the curtains.

  There he was! Lying on a sofa without a care in the world, his betrayer, his nemesis! Frank crept as deftly as he could round the room, cleaver in hand, to behind where Caleb lay sleeping. He looked down upon him, slumbering in the warmth of his sleeping bag, the temptation to slit his throat right there and then was almost unbearable, he reached down with the blade and hovered it at his face; maybe a close shave?

  The rifle and the pistol lay on the floor next to him. Amateurs! A true soldier sleeps with his weapons! Frank withdrew the cleaver and rounded the sofa, he picked up his weapons and moved Caleb’s and the boy’s blades away from them ‘they may come in useful later on’ he thought to himself.

  Frank had the power again; it was good to feel the grip of the rifle in his hands, it was destined for him, part of him. He stoked the fire and felt its warmth through his soaking clothes as they dripped on the floor. Caleb stirred in his sleep, Frank wanted to wake him, but he also wanted to see the terror in his eyes when he awoke to see him standing there, he wanted him to feel helpless, just like Frank had while the hag tried to maul his face off, he wanted him to pay!

  After what seemed the longest time Caleb opened his eyes. The time had come! Caleb moved for where the rifle had sat on the floor, Frank cocked it to let him know that it was hopeless. There it was! The terror! His eyes bled with it, and it was beautiful!

  “Alright Mate? Sleep well?” Frank said, his voice trembling, Caleb said nothing; he just stared at him with those big dark eyes, the flames from the fire dancing in them, “What’s the matter buddy, cat got your tongue?” Frank said in a coochy coo voice that quickly slipped away, “You don’t look too pleased to see us, Caleb! Well, we’re not quite the looker we used to be; are we?” he ran his fingers across the scars on his face, “Not bad though, considering a grenade went off in our face, but you should see the other guy! Or should we say Gal? Your Mum’s face painted her kitchen a lovely shade of red by the way; it’s a shame she’ll never get to see it!” the Angels had started singing, they were getting impatient, they wanted to see the blood; but Frank wanted Caleb to squirm first, “I bet you’re wondering how we managed to find you here, well that’s going to be our little secret. You really can be very predictable, you know? We knew you would come here, and we knew you wanted the weapons, Caleb; I was a fool to trust you! Never again! You will be the last! After you and your demon seed are gone, we will stand upon a pinnacle of light, we will be the aspirations of the future of mankind!

  “You see, Caleb, we thought you could be part of the new world, and we had to give you the chance to prove yourself to us.... you failed! And I.... I have ascended! I am not like you, Caleb; not a treacherous fool, bound to live in the gutters to scavenge what can be from the table of gods; I have been accepted by them now, I, Caleb, I am an Angel!”

  The bastard had the audacity to snigger! Frank took the butt of the rifle and smashed it into his face, “Laugh no more, heathen, heretic!

  “I have a gift for you, Caleb! Call it a farewell gift for the little good you have done in your life!” Frank picked up one of the towel bags and slung it at the fool, he lurched back as the bag landed in his lap and moved, “open it!” he didn’t move, “Open it!”

  Frank watched with anticipation as Caleb slowly untied the ends of the towel and unfolded it. A grey and withered hand shot out of the bag and grabbed Caleb by the throat.

  Carrying what was left of Caleb’s father all this way had been quite the burden, but it was all payin
g off now. Caleb was struggling desperately with the surprisingly lively half corpse and blood seeped down the traitor’s collar as the fingernails dug in deep, ‘bleed as we bled for you’ the angels sang!

  “Can you kill him now, Caleb?” Frank screamed at him, he heard the boy scream something but Frank only trained the barrel of the rifle at him to shut him up; his time would come! “Do you want to kill him now, Caleb? Just say the word and I may help you!” Frank laughed with glee as traitor and corpse fell to the floor in a tangle, but before Frank could say a word there was a sharp black blade in Caleb’s hand and he pushed it deep into the old coot’s eye; the part corpse fell lifelessly to the floor. The traitor looked up at Frank with a bloodlust in his eye and twitched as if to move, but he saw the gun pointed at his son and thought better of it; just as well, Frank wanted the boy to see his father die!

  Frank was livid “Drop the fucking knife, traitor!” he screamed “Drop it or we blow the back out of this little fucks face!”

  This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! The old coot was supposed to bite Caleb, then the boy would watch him turn, and then Caleb would eat the boy; that was the plan! Caleb had no right to mess with the plan!

  He dropped the knife, “Good,” Frank said hesitantly, “Right... umm....” Caleb had messed with the plan; he wasn’t allowed to mess with the plan, now he had to come up with a whole new plan! He looked to the angels, ‘kill them’ they cried, “But we want them to suffer,” Frank whispered.

  “Let the boy go, Frank,” the traitor interrupted, “It was me that left you behind, the boy hates me for it! Just, please let the boy go! I will do anything you ask!”

  “You will do anything we ask, but we see no reason to let him go, let’s just call him our little guarantee, eh?”

  “But he is an innocent! Surely the angels can see that?”

  “No one is innocent! Everyone is doomed, and everyone is damned until their rebirth! You will not be reborn now, Caleb; you saw to that when you killed your father, your soul can not be cleansed and so you are hell bound. We are your reaper, Caleb, Your angels of death, heed our name or feel our wrath. Repent. Repent! Beg us for forgiveness so that we may save your soul, for your life is already forfeit.

  Repent!

  The treacherous fool attempted to attack, a wild and reckless attack; he threw himself from the sofa towards Franks waist, screaming at the boy to make a run for it. All Frank had to do was lift a knee to connect with the fool’s chest and Caleb went down; the boy didn’t move a muscle.

  Frank looked down upon the pitiful wretch that lay at his feet, “Maybe we are right? Maybe we should just kill you now? You have fallen so far, and so fast; our general, the leader of our army, to this!” Frank gestured down at the pathetic heap on the floor; the traitor tried to rise and Frank planted a boot into his stomach, “This is how it has to be!” Frank said as he pointed the rifle at the fool, and pulled the trigger.

  Chapter

  19

  Meltdown

  Caleb’s body struggled desperately to pull air into his winded lungs as he collapsed down onto the thick purple rug.

  “Maybe we are right?” Frank said.

  The words seemed distant. Caleb had to move, he had to get up and attack this madman before he could hurt Brandon. But his body refused; managing only to pull in a couple more staggered breaths.

  “Maybe we should just kill you now?”

  Caleb’s chest burned and his thoughts turned against him. How could he have let this happen? Why didn’t he block up the windows? Why had he fallen asleep? Someone always had to keep watch!

  “You have fallen so far; and so fast”

  ‘I have to get up! I have to get up!’ Caleb told himself, and strained against his aching muscles.

  “Our general; the leader of our army, to this!”

  Caleb forced himself to his knees and pushed as hard as he could with his hands, if he could only lock an arm round Frank’s leg he could drop him, maybe into the fire? He raised his right hand to hook the knee but the wet steel toe capped boot swung up sharply into Caleb’s gut, dropping him face down back to the rug.

  “This is how it has to be!”

  ‘I’m sorry, Brandon’ were Caleb’s last thoughts before the ‘crack’ of the gunshot rendered him deaf and everything went black. He felt the pain as the bullet thudded between his shoulder blades, it wasn’t as sore as he expected it to be, but at least he was still feeling pain; pain meant he was still alive, and if he was still alive then he still had a chance to save Brandon. He could hear the boy shouting now.

  “Dad...! Dad...!”

  But why was it so dark, and what was that hissing noise?

  Light flooded the room from the fireplace as Caleb watched Frank pull himself screaming from the blazing hearth; he darted across the dining room with glowing embers trailing in his wake and smashed through a window on the opposite side of the room. Gunshots rang out from the adjacent window as he fled, but Caleb couldn’t be sure if any of them landed on target, he had no idea what was going on!

  Caleb was desperately trying to reach to his back to feel the bullet wound when Brandon appeared by his side, the boy put his hand on the wound, “How bad is it?” Caleb cried.

  “Where did he get you?” The boy sobbed.

  “My back; where your hand is!”

  “There’s nothing there, Dad!”

  Caleb tried to move his leg, fearing that the bullet had severed his spinal cord; thankfully, he drew his knee up on the right hand side and he pulled the rest of his body upright.

  “You alright mate?” came a voice from the shadows; as he drew into the light of the fire, Caleb could see that it was another figure dressed in army garb and holding a rifle, he was dripping wet; he had a good strong jaw that had a thick layer of stubble on it that couldn’t be more than a couple of days old, he had white wings of hair above his ears that caught the light from the fire and only accentuated the dark patches where Caleb should be able to see his eyes, as he moved across the room, he did so with a confident stride; he was definitely not a man with whom to fuck!

  “Did he get you?” the stranger asked.

  “I thought he shot me in the back, but I must have been wrong!” Caleb answered noticing four other people clamber in through the window.

  “Nah, I’m pretty sure I got my shot off first, he dropped the rifle on your back when he fell into the fire; it looked like it must have hurt, you sure that you’re ok!”

  “Well, I’m better than I would have been if you hadn’t shot him. Thanks!”

  “I only shot him in the shoulder, he should survive, Jim is out there having a quick look to see if he is still around; I’m Ethan by the way!”

  “Caleb, and this is Brandon,” when Caleb looked to the boy he had lost interest in his old man altogether and was more interested in the group that were huddling in round the fire.

  “This is Sarah,” the short lady with bright curly red hair gave a timid wave between wiping rain droplets from her glasses, “that’s Zoe,” a dark skinned young girl who was toting a shotgun gave a quiet ,“Hi.” as she peeled off a jacket that obviously hadn’t been designed to cope with a heavy downpour, “that’s Greg,” there was an blatant hint of animosity in Ethan’s voice when he said Greg’s name and the robust man only gave a harrumph as a response, “and this is Cassie,” Ethan’s voice changed completely at the mention of her name, and why wouldn’t it? She had two yellowing black eyes from where she had clearly taken a blow to the nose, but beyond that it was easy to see that she was a beautiful woman; her long blonde hair was clinging to her face as she brushed it away, and her wet clothes were clinging to her body.... Caleb had to drag his eyes away from her bosom, and pulled himself to his feet.

  “Hi there.” She had a sweet English accent that only complimented her beauty. How long had it been since Caleb had even seen a woman? A living one anyway. “Who was that guy?” she asked politely.

  “That, I’m afraid, was Frank.” Caleb said
with a wince.

  “A friend of yours...?”

  “Not exactly,” he laughed, “We had been travelling with him for a few days, but we didn’t really see eye to eye.”

  “Really...? He looked such a pleasant fellow!” the sarcasm came from the other soldier; he had a strong Yorkshire accent and was now climbing in the window and drawing it closed behind him.

  “And that’s Jim” said Ethan who was over at the broken window that frank had escaped out of.

  “....Pleased to meet you, Jim.” Caleb said.

  “You too, Jock are you? What you doing down this way?”

  “We were down here when it all kicked off really,” Caleb didn’t really want go into all of the details of his past so decided to keep it simple.

  “What the fuck is that?” someone shouted, Caleb assumed that it was Greg as he was stood over by the couch.

  “That’s.... was, my father,” Caleb said solemnly as he walked over to the deformed half corpse, “a parting gift from Frank.” Caleb took the large tablecloth from the corner and wrapped his father in it; he then placed him comfortably in a chair through in the next room.

  “What the hell did you do to piss him off so much?” Jim asked as Caleb came back through.

  “Frank...?”

  “Yeah...!”

  “Well, we.... I mean, I kind’a ditched him yesterday,” Caleb noticed Brandon shoot him an accusing glance that he hoped no one else saw.

  “Why did you ditch him?” Sarah asked incredulously.

  “He was just plain schizo! I couldn’t trust him!”

  “Schizo?” Sarah asked.

  “Schizophrenic, he talked to angels in his head; he even believes he is one of them now!”

  “Ha! He did sound a bit preachy,” Ethan said, “I thought it was someone taking a sermon till I saw you laying on the floor with a rifle pointed at you.”