The Suicide King Volume 1 (The Fallocaust Series Book 3)

by Quil Carter

  Gage considered this. “I eventually need to return to Skyfall…”

  I nodded. “Elish and I will have to come back eventually too. My master will make sure you’re safe. He won’t let anything happen to you after what you did to help me.”

  Gage fell silent as he thought this over. It made me wonder if he was communicating with the voices I was suspecting were inside of his head. “As long as I can have some time alone with Sanguine, to speak with him. Yes… I believe that will work. Sanguine… he’ll be safe in Skyfall?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “He has a lot of people that will protect him, and Theo’s saying that Silas is all depressed.” As I said this, I realized I didn’t even know why.

  I walked to the front of the Falconer. I peeked my head into the cockpit, just as Theo was turning on the engine.

  “Hey, why’s Silas depressed?” I asked. I’d ask if it was because I was dead, but I didn’t want Theo to die of laughter before he took me to the greywastes. “Is it because he still hasn’t found Reaver?”

  I saw Theo’s head shake as he began pulling on the Falconer’s wheel. “No, dead boy,” he said, his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth as he concentrated on the plane’s ascending. “There was an explosion in the plaguelands, in an old laboratory. Reaver will be burning in white flames for the next two decades, and his pretty little boyfriend is dead. I’m sorry to have to tell you this as well, love, but Perish killed himself too. Silas is an absolute wreck about it. The blond boyfriend destroyed Sky’s O.L.S before he died.”

  What?

  Reaver?

  And Killian?

  The bottom fell out from under me. I stood there in the door frame of the cockpit and just stared, before I turned around with a nod, and closed the metal door; the last rational thing I could think to do before the pieces of my hastily constructed world fell back apart.

  I made it two steps towards one of the metal benches that lined both sides of the Falconer before my wobbling legs brought me to the ground. I cupped a hand over my mouth, and stared at the ribbed metal floor as the shock dropped on me like gravity had lost its force.

  “Jade?” I heard Gage say. I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Were they your… friends?”

  I tried to open my mouth to answer back but all I could manage was a nod. Shock and despair were two circling monsters in my head, each chasing the other to grab dominance over these thoughts taking over me. One wanted me to remain in a state of animation, staring at the floor like someone who had just bore witness to a terrifying nightmare; the other wanted to scream and cry and tear out my hair.

  My friends were dead? I had travelled with Killian, protected that little fucker from Perish. I had helped Reaver escape by destroying my own mind so he could find Killian. Those two were my friends, Reaver was my brother. He’d been determined to find Killian. I had seen the resolution burn in his eyes; he’d do anything to find that boy.

  Did he at least get to say goodbye? The thought that Reaver found Killian, only to have the lab go up in flames, devastated me. I was sure they would be all right.

  What had happened in that lab?

  That question was answered quite easily. From the pieces of memory that my torn and shredded brain could solder together, it had been Silas who had caused the sestic radiation outburst. That would make sense, even in his madness I knew Perish would have never hurt Killian.

  It was Sky and Sky’s O.L.S – which was now destroyed.

  Then, because my mind was a machine constantly working against me, another bombshell was dropped onto what was already a smoking crater, this one making me have to close my eyes from the dizziness.

  Elish.

  My master had lost everything, hadn’t he? Not just me, but the boy he had been hiding for twenty years. His carefully crafted plan had been destroyed with an apocalyptic swiftness that reflected the devastation that was the Fallocaust.

  But then…

  Was he even in the northern greywastes? If he wasn’t in the greywastes to find Reaver and Killian, where was he?

  I sniffed and blinked away the tears, barely feeling Gage’s supportive hand on my back. I tried not to cry, but the lump in my throat was physically painful. I didn’t trust myself to talk, or do anything but keep swallowing and keep blinking until I felt some shred of control.

  I had to find Elish. I had to let him know that at least I was still here. We could come up with a new plan. He was smart… he always knew what to do.

  The next thing I knew, I was in Gage’s arms. This weird, way too innocent kid holding me while my body shook from grief. It helped, but the comfort of being in someone’s arms again drew out their own feelings of longing and loneliness.

  I just hoped soon these arms would be my master’s, because I knew now, more than ever, I had to find him.

  I had to find my husband.

  Chapter 27

  Elish

  Elish’s eyes slowly opened. For a brief moment he was confused as to where he was. Should he not be in Jack’s skyscraper wrapped in silk and resting in the library on a day bed? Why was he hearing the gentle soothing sounds of a river behind him, and feeling the sun heating the back of his neck? Stranger still, his clothes were stiff and had the unappealing aroma of clothing that had sat too long in the washing machine.

  Elish wiped the sleep from his eyes and sat up. He put a hand to his head and looked around to take in this strange scene. He was laying two feet away from a river, with a rocky ledge behind him, and in the distance, grey mountains dotted with black trees and the shadowed outlines of structures and power poles that still remained standing.

  Elish stared off into that distance, looking through the haze that the summer’s heat had drawn up. He stared blankly before, with a low sigh, it came back to him; the series of events that had led him to waking up beside this very river.

  In a fit of drug and despair-induced hallucinations he had lost himself, and in the end, it had gotten him shot – multiple times.

  So how long had he been resurrecting for? And what distance has this river brought him before washing him up on shore? Elish rose and tested his legs. He was relieved that they worked easily, meaning that he couldn’t have been out for more than two weeks. If it was only gunshots it should’ve only been several days, but who knows if he was prevented from resurrecting due to being submerged in water.

  Well, he was here now, and they hadn’t consumed him at least; he must’ve been swept away from them too quickly. There was little doubt in Elish’s mind that if the greywasters had gotten a hold of him they would’ve made a fine meal of his body.

  And from the amount of drugs he’d consumed, they’d probably get high as well.

  Elish started walking up the steep ledge behind him. It was at a sharp incline and the gravelly ground was loose, with every step Elish disturbed rocks and chunks of pavement which rained down the hill before rolling into the river. Elish climbed to the top to see what lay beyond, but found himself nose-to-nose with the front of a previously burned house. Elish shrugged and went inside; he scanned the garbage-strewn kitchen and found a metal chair to sit in. Without hesitation, he reached into his pockets and brought out a metal tin trimmed with rubber, and held shut with elastic bands.

  He opened it, and was relieved to see it had remained waterproof. He rested a cigarette on his knee and crushed a yellow Dilaudid pill between his fingers and deposited the dust into his palm. After inhaling the drugs, he pursed the cigarette between his lips and lit it with a pinch of his fingers; a trick he hadn’t been able to do in front of the greywasters.

  Elish smoked the cigarette and stared at the dirty floor. He was completely sober now and not surprised to feel himself more depressed than ever. Without the drugs, the descending and crippling dark cloud was above him, and the physical weight on his shoulders even more taxing than usual. At one point during his binge drinking and chain drug use, he’d wondered if once he became sober he’d kick himself in the ass to take back his life and be the
man, the prince, the chimera, he’d once been before Jade died… but now that he was face-to-face with what had transpired he wanted nothing more than to get high again and numb the sharpened memories that sliced him every time he grazed them.

  At least through his resurrection his tolerance to the opiates was nothing. One pill was enough to get him to his feet, but he inhaled another one before standing, for no other reason than just wanting to. There was nothing else for him, he didn’t even have that annoying greywaster boy to keep him company.

  Elish brushed the dirt and sand off of himself. He must’ve been resurrecting out of the water for quite some time if he was completely dry. It was a plus at least, he didn’t feel like stopping to dry his clothes or make a fire. He needed to get to a town and buy more drugs.

  Then Elish paused and swore under his breath. His backpack was with the caravan that had shot him, all of his money was in there. This made Elish grit his teeth in anger, and swear revenge on those idiots for shooting him in the first place. Though it was obvious just from his own behaviour that he’d deserved it. If any man had come near Jade with such madness, he would’ve broke his neck before the man’s hand had touched Jade’s jacket.

  Elish walked out of the house, and after drinking from the river he climbed the ledge again and walked along the large house to find a road, a road that would hopefully lead him…

  There was a town in the distance.

  Elish’s eyes widened. In front of him, not but five miles away… was the new town Mantis. He recognized it from when he and Reaver had visited. A small town still under construction, and even now as he started walking towards it he could see that a wall was currently being built. Robyn had mentioned the booze and material they were bringing were to pay the workers hired to help build this wall. A project now on rush to help keep out the ravers currently taking over towns west of here.

  It was luck – great luck, and the thought of getting what little possessions he owned back made Elish walk faster towards civilization. He needed his money back for his drug habit and drinking habit… and he didn’t want to lose Killian’s guitar either.

  A prince with millions of dollars worth of possessions and now the only thing I want is a small guitar back. Elish shook himself of the degrading thought and kept going, wishing he had a bottle in his hand and a gun on his hip. He should get both returned to him soon enough.

  The road in front of him was almost non-existent. It was segmented like someone had taken a hammer to glass and it sloped down to an abandoned town surrounded by trees. The trees were large and embedded in between bushy shrubs and yellow grass. The excess of life was thanks to the river Elish had just come from. It looked like the river wound around the abandoned town like a slithering snake before it disappeared into Mantis, and where it started again Elish didn’t know.

  But as Elish walked towards the abandoned town, red flags were immediately raised. There were bright colours breaking the monotone slate greys and rusty browns. Not just the normal reds or blues from plastic bins or shop signs, but neon paint and small collections of brightly coloured garbage made into nests like it was the home of some beast.

  Then a foul stench reached Elish’s nose. He wrinkled it but didn’t stop his pace. He knew from where he’d found Jade that this was the home of ravers. This realization did nothing to him; he only carried on down the fractured road, wondering if perhaps they were smart enough to make their own alcohol yet.

  His air-dried boots echoed as he entered this ghost town. Elish followed a particularly rancid stench and observed several heads on stakes; their skin falling off of their faces and sliding down their brown skulls as if they themselves could no longer stand the smell. Below the spiked heads were circles of brown. They gave off the false appearance of being the heads’ shadows but were only the dried fluids that now stained the ground directly below the skewers. And not just that, on closer inspection, maggots could be seen writhing, and as soon as Elish adjusted his hearing he realized there were flies all around as well.

  No ravers though. Elish glanced into the dark windows surrounding him and inside the doors left wide open. There were signs of activity everywhere: dismembered body parts rotting off of their greasy bones, piles of shit heaped in corners, buildings saturated with urine, and radrats too. There were even several stray irradiated dogs skittering around with their fur patched and their skin scabby and leaving behind white dandruff flakes that could be seen whenever they scratched themselves

  Elish’s eyes turned to a shotgun leaning against a house that was half-enclosed with a rusty chain-link fence. He grabbed it, ignoring the putrid smell on the handle, and checked to see if it was loaded. It had no strap, however; so he carried it with the barrel against his shoulders and moved on.

  Yes, these were Jade’s Ravers. The realization was heavy inside of Elish, and he had to force down the despair that followed his cicaro’s name like a relentless ghost. Jade was the reason these ravers could now use weapons, could now take over towns. His boy had gathered a following of loyal worshippers whereas a normal greywaster, or even a chimera, would’ve been consumed on the spot. All of this with a horrendous head wound, scarce supplies, and in the dead of winter as well.

  There was a flicker of pride inside of Elish’s heart, before the sadness soaked through and extinguished it. He continued to smoke the last of his cigarette, ignoring a scrawny puppy who was wagging his tail at him with his head down, no doubt wishing for a pat since there seemed to be food everywhere for him to eat.

  While Elish walked through this town, one that had their structures close together and framed with still standing electricity poles, street lamps, and street lights, he noticed the sun had set over the mountains in the west. A coldness started to mix in with the nose hair burning stench of death and rot, but that seemed to only awaken his nose from its suicide. This could perhaps be the reason for the ravers being gone, out hunting perhaps.

  But was there a need for hunting? There were bodies heaped everywhere, bloated corpses pressed up against curbs and leaning beside buildings, with shreds of clothing waving in the faint breeze, and chunks taken out of them like a shark had grown feet and had made its rounds. Down an alley, Elish saw bodies reduced to their component parts: stacks of arms, legs with the thigh and ass cheek attached, and torsos looking like discarded mannequins.

  Interesting. Elish walked to this alleyway and observed ripped up office chairs in a row behind a metal desk. He walked around the desk, and was made further curious when he saw a metal box full of childrens’ toys, all of them brilliant colours and cleaned to shining. Besides that, a box of batteries, also cleaned off, and a bin of Walkmans.

  This was… a store.

  Elish scanned the alleyway and a shadow of a smirk appeared. The ravers were developing a civilization, all thanks to his cicaro. How fascinating.

  Elish left the aromatic shop and carried on to the other end of the alleyway. It opened up to a single-lane road with rusted cars parked nose to rear and townhouses stuck together, each supporting the other, with some so deteriorated it was only their comrades holding their shoulders to keep them from falling into further ruin.

  They weren’t high enough to prove much use for scouting, but he spotted an apartment building in the distance framed by two gnarled maples. With the skinny grey puppy following behind him, still determined for that pet, he walked down the corpse-strewn road to the apartment building and crossed a parking lot. There were bright neon paintings that looked to glow in the dark all around the building, and with another curious shake of his head, Elish saw actual designs on the apartment; not just the usual splattered scrawls of mad men wanting to see bright colours. There was an obvious painting of a raver, done in bright pink with black eyes that dripped from the spray can being held too close, and further on, severed heads with red paint for the blood, also dripping from an eager raver’s spray can; however, the red that seeped from the stumps was more fitting in that particular image.

  Another wa
ll of stink. Elish could right away spot five dead bodies, most consumed down to the bones, with the meat that still remained green and shifting with maggots and other insects. Clothing, all of it faded and stained, clung to their bones, bits chewed and taken out in typical raver fashion. It looked like the subhumans still had no patience when there was fresh meat on the menu.

  He kicked a pile of papers out of the way and started walking up the stairs, only turning around once to try and tap the puppy away with his foot, but all he did was look up at Elish with pathetic eyes almost crusted shut. He debated booting it down the stairs, but he’d already started walking up the stairs by the time he’d decided on that action.

  Each floor was more deteriorated than the next: collapsed ceilings with their gyprock innards now on the floor to mix in with the dust; loose papers and insulation; wires hanging like nooses just waiting to snag you; and bones in all states of rot stacked like kindling.

  Then, finally, Elish reached the top floor and entered into an open apartment door that would give him a window pointing towards Mantis. He looked past the chewed on and destroyed furniture, the chairs with twisted legs, and broken TV set, and saw a balcony with a shattered sliding glass door. He walked onto the wooden balcony, his boots crunching glass, and stepped out onto the swollen boards that replaced the stench of rot with one of soured wood.

  It was more than obvious where the ravers were when he gazed out over the town of Mantis. Elish could see a string of orange, like a long whip set ablaze, probably a mile from the town, four miles from where he was. Further on, he could see the beginnings of buildings being set ablaze, just several of them, but their black smoke was already starting to darken the horizon.