Garret watched the black figures move in his direction with a slow and steady purpose. Wind howled through the empty wooden buildings, that stood silent like giant grave stones. The entire town was as dead as the earth itself, its bones were the abandoned buildings scattered in a hodgepodge of crooked streets and alleyways. Even in the heat, Garret began to shiver as the figures made their steady march toward him. He thought about running, but the unyielding desert would swallow him whole. He looked behind him, toward the edge of town. There was a railroad that he might be able to follow to another town. A town without mutants, cannibal gangs or walking dead.
“Stupid idea...” he told himself. “They found you out in the middle of the desert; they would certainly be able to track you using the railroad.”
He reached into his satchel and felt the worn and brittle cover of the Book. “How did they find me?” he murmured under his breath. He started to take a few steps back, but he did not dare turn around.
The four men on foot formed from the swirling and changing mirage. Garret gripped the hilt of his sword as he heard the steady chink, chink sound of armor draw nearer; the wind brought the tangy sharp smell of a black iron armored auto-suit. He saw two men dressed in tattered black robes. One was carrying a black flag with the Silver Eagle. Garret noticed that they moved with a jerky, spontaneous gait. The fourth man had long white hair and a short white cropped beard. His robes were as white as snow with the Silver Eagle stitched in the center. Even from this distance, Garret could see the glint of his ice blue eyes that locked their gaze on him. The man with the long white hair held a crooked dark staff in one hand and a whip in the other. Every few strides the whip would snap back and crack against the backs of the two men in rags.
He heard the loud crack of thunder and another armored auto-suit appeared behind him. Garret was surrounded. It wouldn’t be the creatures in the desert that would kill him if he ran, it would be Aurias’ servants. The auto-suit moved forward, drawing its sword and pointing it at Garret.
Garret checked his bag for his remaining bullets, counted five and loaded them into the rotating chamber. “I suppose I should save the last one for myself.” he said, his voice was dry and brittle in the hot desert air. Garret sighed and wiped the sweat from his brow. He drew his pistol and waited. He knew that if they finally took him back to Celestria, he would be tried for treason against Aurias and then crucified among the thousands that lined the King’s Highway.
The group of men came within shouting distance and then stopped. Garret could hear the eager grunts and groans of the two men in rags. He could see the scars above their foreheads which moved and wriggled like horrible misplaced mouths. The two men grinned and grunted with delight. Sharp yellow teeth filed down to points appeared like jagged spikes behind parched dry lips. The desert flies clung to their faces, bouncing off their hollow eyes. The one with the flag shook it with violent enthusiasm. His jaw was made of steel and Garret flinched when he saw the dried blood stains along the flat surface. “Eat! Eat! Eat!” he chanted in a thick and dull sounding voice. The whip cracked and their was a whimper and then silence.
The man with the white hair took a step forward. Garret saw seven gnarled branches that formed a wicked looking crown at the top of the staff. It was a dirge, one of the rare weapons of power left in the world. He pointed the staff at Garret and spoke. His voice calm and confident.
“Where is the Book?” he swept the staff in a wide horizontal arch and then pointed it back at Garret. His long fingers wrapped tight around the dirge as he pointed it in Garret’s direction. There was a low throbbing sound and the earth shuttered for a moment.
Garret pointed the pistol at the Inquisitor. “I don’t have it!”, he shouted, his voice cracking from the great weight of fear pressing in on his chest. His hands started to tremble.
“You have the Book, Garret.” The Inquisitor’s twisted into a smirk. The cold blue eyes burned into him. “You’ve been betrayed. We know you keep the Book with you.”
“Just tell them...” a voice whispered dark and faint. It was back. The same voice that crept into his mind at night as he tried to fall asleep on the gritty desert sand.
“No!” he screamed and cocked the hammer of the pistol back. “You won’t get it!”
The two creatures moved forward, hunched, their gaunt long arms almost dragging on the rough dirt. The Inquisitor moved his staff again and slammed it into the ground. The dead earth split and the two creatures nearly fell on their back from the force.
“Let me take you” The cold voice cried out from below the earth. “Let me take you and swallow you whole...”
He pulled the trigger and there was a loud bang and then a cry of pain. Garret saw one of the creatures flailing on the ground in agony. Blood pooled and ran down the its arm and into the open crack.
Garret’s vision was fading and all he could hear was the voice whispering from beneath the earth and in the air. He barely heard the groans and grunts of pleasure as the other creature with the steel jaw approached just outside arm’s reach. It was apparently undisturbed by it’s peer’s suffering.
“You are mine...I made you...I will take you back...” the voice was high and shrill.
One of the creatures grabbed Garret with its boney fingers and started to pull him to the ground. Garret felt his limp body fall and hit the hot dust; his arm tightly pressed against the satchel. Claws dug into his skin and the creature chuckled. He was surprisingly strong and Garret felt the sharp sting of dirt as his legs scraped against the hard cracked ground. He looked back at the auto suit that had appeared behind him. It started to move in a slow mechanical fashion toward him. The silver long sword was still pointed at him and ready to strike at the Inquisitor’s command.
Somewhere deep inside, his inner voice was screaming, trying desperately to get his attention. But, the other voice that came from everywhere and nowhere began to scream with anger and demanded that Garret revel the location of the Book. He tried to fight back, but the cold, harsh voice continued to pound his will with questions about the Book. The creature continued to drag him closer to the Inquisitor, sharp nails continued to dig deeper into Garret’s flesh.
The man slammed Garret at the feet of the Inquisitor. Garret lay still as the Inquisitor knelt down and grabbed him by the hair. Garret looked into those piercing ice blue eyes. They seemed to glow with an inner fire. A fire that was earned through intense training, a fire that was bargained for something else, something aweful. Those eyes bore into Garret and they began to search his mind for the Book.
“Give me the Book or I will have Bakarak bite your fingers off one by one.” Garret could hardly hear him or the squeals of excitement coming from somewhere behind. “He was paid to torture those that didn’t pay their debts before he was sentenced to live the life of a dreadling. He still remembers how it’s done.”
“No...” he struggled for breath as the heavy presence of the other voice surrounded him. “Aurias will never find it.” He tried to spit on the Inquisitor’s feet. “I’ll kill you all.”
“Don’t you understand? Aurias needs the Book to set the world straight. Look at the state of the things, Garret!” The Inquisitor swept his hand across the empty town. “The god-king could restore it all if you would just comply.”
Garret tried to reach for his gun. He kill the Inquisitor before his will was completely taken over.
The staff came down on Garret’s left hand and he heard the Inquisitor say, “Take his trigger finger, first.” The dirge pressed his hand down into the dirt.
Garret heard a squeal of glee and then a rustling sound, long, boney fingers gripped his index finger and he felt the hot moist breath of the Dreadling near. Then the sharp jagged teeth bit down and Garret screamed in agony. He felt the finger detach and he saw the blood drip on the ground. He looked up at the Dreadling and saw the blood run down his chin like the juice of some evil fruit.
The Inquisitor grabbed his hair again, “Will you tell me, now that you do not have a trigger finger? You won’t survive long in the desert without it.”
“You want me alive. I know what’s in the Book. I’ve read it, and I know it’s power.” He clenched his teeth and smiled, “I’ll kill you all.”
The ice blue eyes flashed for a moment. The Inquisitor jerked Garret’s face upward and again the eyes searched for truth. Garret saw a faint hint of disbelief in the man’s face, and then it returned to stone cold indifference. The Inquisitor raised his dirge and in a wide sweeping arc bashed Garret in the side of the face.
He almost passed out from the blow, but something kept him semi-conscience.
“Search his bags!” he pointed to Bakarak.
The creature hobbled closer and started to pull the bag away from Garret.
“No!”, he shouted as he felt his arm weaken. “You can’t have it! You can’t have it! Damn you all to the Void!”
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Garret found the streaghth to pull the satchel away from Bakarak. He reached in and pulled out the Book. The Inquisitor’s eyes widened and he stretched out his long boney arm.
“Give it to me!” he hissed under his breath. His thin nervous fingers beckoned. “You must speak the words before you hand it over to me!”
Garret grinned, a thick layer of dust covered his face and hair. He held the Book up. The cover was old and weather worn black. A large rune was carved in the center. It was a deep midnight black, and the darkness in the letter seemed to dance with the excitement of being released from the satchel. He opened the book and stared to leaf through it’s sections as he turned to a particular passage. The pages, like dead flaky flesh made dry crackling noises as he turned them.
“Yes, yes.” The Inquisitor’s voice was almost soothing.
Garret ignored him. He was trying to fight through the pain and concentrate on the Book. The letters began to morph and come to life on the page. The words reformed and Garret started to see the true passage. He continued to focus until all the words becoming clear. Was he ready to recite the words of power?
The Inquisitor caught hold of Garret’s thoughts, and almost trembling, he gestured to the auto-suit. “Crush his leg with your hammer.”
Garret heard the chinking of armor and the taste of iron was on his tongue. He smiled, “Aurias must of sent his worst Inquisitor if you require your henchmen to do what the song from your dirge cannot. Did you lose your memory in the desert heat?”
He felt the dirge come down hard on his back. Garret groaned, but tried to hold his concentration on the Book. The letters began to morph back into their original positions. The pain was like a fire on his back. He tried to push it out of his mind and refocus on the Book.
“Crush both of his legs!” The Inquisitor’s voice was full of dread. “Crush them now, you stupid machine!”
There was a loud whooshing sound, and the hammer came down on Garret’s left leg. He screamed as he heard the bones crack. The auto-suit raised the heavy hammer again and it came down on Garret’s right leg. He screamed again, the pain was unbearable.
“Are you sure the executioners can still crucify him in his state?” the deep gravely voice came from somewhere inside the auto-suit.
“Don’t ask such ridiculous questions, you were made to harm not inquire! Now, again!”
The hammer fell again on both of Garret’s legs. He screamed and watched the words fully morph back to their original state. He was breathing hard now. He could feel where the bones were shattered like sharp shards of glass in his legs. He had to try and regain focus. It was almost impossible in this state.
Garret tried again to remove his mind from the unbearable pain. He tried to block out the mind spells of the Inquisitor. The letter didn’t move. He closed his eyes and thought hard about the passage he wanted. His mind fought back and telling him that it was over, that he was in great pain and that he should give up. It was like moving a boulder up hill. Every time Garret tried to push the conflicting thoughts out of his mind, they threatened to roll on top of him.
“Take him to the cart.” he heard the Inquisitor order. “But do not touch the Book!”
He felt hands reach down and grab his arms. He felt his limp body being pulled again. Garret felt the blood flow down his forehead and saw the blood trail behind him. The Book started to slip from his grip. If he lost the Book, it was over; it was all over.
Garret looked down at the passage. The words reformed into the true passage. He wasn’t even focusing on the Book, but there they were. He looked beyond Barkark and saw the wooden cart. He saw the leather straps glistening in the sun. The Inquisitor’s brow was wrinkled in fury. Garret glanced back at the words in the Book, and began to read them outloud.
The Inquisitor let out a cry as he heard the Ancient Language, it’s harsh words cut through the air. The light from the sun began to dim, and there was a faint thump, thump, thump of something far in the distance. The shadows from the buildings began to grow and move in strange and unnatural ways. Garret looked up and saw them first. They were cloaked in pure darkness, which swirled and moved like some living organism around their bodies. Huge black wings beat against the air current, while large golden eyes peered down with malice on their prey. Their faces were snake like with forked tongues tasting the air, sensing the fear from down below. The talons were like swords, and they glimmered even in the dim sunlight. The creatures’ bodies were humanoid, but covered in scales with arms that ended in sharp claws. Each one held a flaming sword in one hand and a heater shield in the other. There was a loud roar and one of the creatures dove downward towards the Inquisitor, its talons outstretched.
Garret heard the Inquisitor scream as h bones broke under the great weight of the huge creature. Then there was nothing but the beating of wings as the creature lifted itself upwards. Another dove down and grabbed and auto-suit. Garret saw the auto-suit struggle as the creature began to pry the helmet off. The black iron groaned and easily gave way revealing a horrible shriveled face of a man. His head was shrunken to an abnormally small size, and his blind eyes searched for the attacker. The creature pried the remaining pieces of armor and the naked body of wrinkled white flesh fell into the hot earth. The tubes that were keeping this thing alive were still attached to the creature and to the suite and Garret noticed that it was missing both legs and one arm. It began to desperately crawl away from the horrible creature Garret had summoned, but the creature was in no mood to play with its food. It pounced on the living mound of flesh, opened its mouth, reveling teeth as large and as sharp as daggers and bit off the head in one smooth movement.
Barakak had let go of Garret and started to run. Another creature swooped in and carried him away. The other auto-suit was no where to be found. Garret heard the beating of the wings, and felt the dust brush against his face. The ground cracked open and a black substance started to ooze like a gaping wound. More cracks appeared and the ground was covered with the dark substance. It had a foul, rotting odor. The buildings around the town began to smolder and fall apart as the black substance consumed everything it touched. Everything, except Garret. The substance moved around him, pulling the cart down into it’s unknown depths.
The beating wings started to grow faint and the sunlight began to brighten again. Garret remembered the pain from his wounds and he cried out. The substance started to bubble like it was boiling and then there were great billows of gray smoke. Garret couldn’t breathe. The Book couldn’t protect him from the smoke. He felt his body convulse from suffocation, he felt the pain from his wounds start to slip away. Garret felt himself start to slip away from his body. But then, the smoke began to clear, and the pain that had covered his body melted away. The strange black liquid had completely dissolved. He tried moving his legs and found that he could bend his knees. He still felt weak, but he tried to stand. He grimaced as his legs struggled to keep his body upright. He turned around to see if any of the buildings remained standing. There was nothing left, just the desert and the rim of orange in the sky to the West. He watched the warm glow fade into deep purple and felt the darkness of the Book wrap around him, warming him from the coming cold of night. He thought about the city of Enoch, he thought about Aurias and what would happen if he ever found the Book.
His looked tired and defeated in the dim light, and in the distance he saw the shuffling silhouettes of a small group of walking dead. They moved without purpose, darting and zigzagging as dead nerves fired in random patterns. Garret could hear their faint moans and grunts as they were searching for human flesh.
‘The Fallen Star, Aurias, the god-king’s birth had caused all of this’, he thought to himself. ‘What’s the point in living, when this is it?’ He watched one of the undead grunt and stretch a gnarled arm in his direction. The others glared at him, he could see the glint of white from their blank eyes, faces grinning where the flesh had rotted off of their mouths. One of them growled.
“Look what he did to you”, Garret said to the slowly approaching group. “You were once human, you had families, friends, thoughts, emotions. Now you’re a walking husk, always hungry for more.”
He stared at the Book on the ground. It’s pages open to the passage he recited.
“I give up...” his voice was faint and raspy. “I’m yours...show me your ways.” The slowly encroaching undead howled and began to attack each other, screaming into the empty evening sky. He watched them tear each other apart with a detached blank expression and when there was nothing left but twitching pieces of arms and legs, he watched the final band of sunlight sink below the horizon.
He picked up the book and started limping East on the King’s Highway toward the mountains in the distance and away from the dying light. The Book would keep him going. It would heal his wounds and restore his body. It would take him far away from the chaos, but it would instill in him a lust for revenge that would only be satisfied by the dead of Aurias. It would be his own form of restoration upon the world.