Chapter Three

Rose leaned against the door for a moment to catch her breath. She grabbed handfuls of her thick raven hair and started to wring it out as she surveyed Duncan’s hut. Rose knew he was a simple man but this place was practically a janitor’s closet. Scratch that, she thought, a janitor’s closet actually had space for their supplies. Duncan didn’t build his hut for comfort, like Rose did, but for shelter. Rose bent over and then quickly flung her hair back in one big flop, smack the back of her neck. Rose observed that Duncan had a tattered sleeping bag rolled up on the floor and next to it was the backpack he wore whenever he travelled.

Must be there in case Duncan had to bug-out quickly, she thought. Old habits of surviving on the road seem to stick with the man but it struck Rose as odd that he would still feel the urge to run, especially in a well-protected village or did Duncan have plans to leave already? This thought troubled her but she shook it off as she walked over to the sleeping bag and picked it up, examining it closely. Rose crinkled her nose at the different odors that assailed her nostrils.

“Good Gods what road kill did he sleep with!” Rose cringed as she peered into the opening.

This sleeping bag should be burned but the fumes that would emanate from it could kill most of the plant animal life for miles, Rose mused with a smirk. She hesitantly reached in and plucked several loose strands of Duncan’s strawberry blond hairs and tucked them into a hidden pocket in her dress. Rose put the filthy sleeping bag back on the straw-covered dirt floor and rolled it back up the best she could while holding her breath. Why couldn’t Duncan barter for a different bag? Rose stood up straight and looked at the rest of what Duncan called home.

He had a small fire pit with a small cast iron skillet and cauldron for his cooking needs lying next to it was a serving spoon and long fork. The counter top that most people have was missing but in its place was a five gallon bucket with dirty water and wash rag and a scrub brush next to it for cleaning. Duncan the minimalist. Rose walked towards the door but couldn’t help glance back at the contents of the hut. She shook her head slowly and tsked as she said aloud, “You could live so much better than this, you silly fool. Why anyone would live like this is beyond me?”

Rose opened the door and looked in the general area of the wall where Duncan was positioned. He remained sitting on the wooden fruit box, ever vigilant and still watching the landscape despite the heavy downpour. Thunder rumbled from above as lightning brighten up the sky as Rose made a mad dash towards her own hut, water splashing and mud spitting up with each of her long strides. She kept a hand against her concealed pocket so that none of Duncan’s hair come out. The village was flooding in areas but the bulk of it either came from the creek itself or the divots created from the trader carts traffic. All the traders were huddling under storage building, their carts still out in the open. Rose didn’t see Sully among the crowd of people, but she figured he was taking refuge in his holy-roller cart.

There were villagers still out dancing skyclad and having a great time celebrating the rain when Rose got to her over-sized hut. She grabbed the handle and pushed her way inside where it was warm, dry and not a closet. Rose looked down at her clothes and shivered, so she walked over to her altar and placed Duncan’s hairs in a cast iron cauldron. She had to use them as a key ingredient to her divination potion but first things first, Rose wanted to be dry so she began removing her wet clothes. She sat down on a green plush cushioned chair and tugged off her calf high leather boots. Rose slipped her fingers inside the sleeve of her glove and rolled it down slowly, as much as she wanted the wet garment off, Rose did enjoy the feel of silk gliding over her skin. Her eyes rolled back at the sensation of her other silk glove came off.

Rose reached behind her back and unzipped her dress and then she stood up and wiggled as she tugged the full length garment off her cold, wet body. As it pooled at her ankles, Rose stepped out of them and picked them up and draped the wet dress and the long sleeve gloves on a clothing rack that stood near her fire pit to dry. Rose walked over and snatched a couple of towels and a red bath robe and then she sat down on her queen size bed. Rose put the robe down beside her so she could wrap one towel around her rain-soaked hair but as she did this, the burning question kept repeating itself in her mind: What is it about Duncan that makes him so special to have a supernatural ability and not know anything about it?

When it came to the supernatural, Rose believed that knowledge was the key to everything, whether it was on how to fight an enemy or to use magic to help out the environment. Rose had an exceptional talent in that. She could commune with all animals and nature itself to which they spoke back to her telepathically. Rose did her best to conceal most of her gifts from other because it did take a toll on her mentally and sometimes physically, especially when she had to use her own blood on the seeds that her village used to grow their crops. That was why Melona always had an abundance of fruits and vegetables year round.

Once she was satisfied on how dry her body was, Rose stood up and slipped the bath robe on but didn’t bothering to tie the belt as walked over to her altar. Rose had no need for panties or bras after the firestorms, besides she didn’t want to go through the hassle of find the right fitting bra for bust size and felt it would be disgusting to barter for already used panties so she did without and it was very liberating. Rose sat down on her green plush chair and pulled a small wooden jewelry box where she kept an assortment of her dried herbs and liquid concoctions.

Rose thought for a moment as she perused over her ingredients, trying to decide on what combination this potion would call for since she had never actually made a potion for this purpose. Who knew if it would have instantaneous results or if it would work gradually for days on end but one thing was certain to Rose: if Duncan could be shown how to use his abilities and hone his natural skills, then he could be a great asset to her? It would be nice to talk with someone who actually possessed supernatural powers like herself. Most of the villagers had their own spiritual beliefs but none of them have outwardly shown any gifts like the ones Rose possessed.

Am I so desperate and lonely that I must drag someone into this path of mine, one that can be dangerous and full of potholes or is it that I like Duncan well enough that I want him to be badass like me in some way? Duncan is a private man which would prove difficult to explain and teach him straightforward, especially since he doesn’t trust anyone due to that screaming voice in his head telling him more about others than he would care to know. Rose pulled out a small jar that had water from the well to use as part of the liquid base for her potion. Rose’s concoction was going to help her divine what Duncan was so she grabbed out some alder and camphor, but she felt that it needed to be enhanced so she plucked out ambergris and a few arnica flowers to aide her psychic energies, dried and diced vanilla beans for prophetic dreaming, ginger powder to give it more magical power, and crushed garlic cloves because of it tendency to enhance all other herbs its mix with, making them stronger. Rose glanced at her selection and knew she should add some dried sage to the mix because it had a variety of magical properties but the one she wanted was wisdom. Knowledge is power and that is what she sought after all.

Rose put all the herbs in a marble poultice and ground them all together while muttering a prayer to the Earth goddess to put Her blessing on her work in hopes that the potion will do its intended job and not kill her. That was always important, especially when dealing with different herb combinations for consumption. Rose had her share of miscues in that aspect but she was alive and that’s all that matter. She put her grinding stone down and poured the water into the poultice. Rose pulled out a small knife from the jewelry box and gave her right index finger a prick. She milked her blood from the cut and then she used her finger to stir the contents together. Her blood would help bind the potion and its magic to her so that she could better control the flow of information that she would hopefully receive. As she stirred, Rose grabbed the hairs and put them into the mix before she forgot them.

“Can’t forget the main ingredient in this wonderful and delicious potion!” Rose muttered sarcastically.

Rose took a deep breath and then she picked up the poultice and drank down every bit of the concoction. She immediately doubled over, clutching her stomach and hoping like hell that she didn’t throw the concoction up. Rose was pretty sure it wouldn’t taste good the second time around either. Rose slid down on the floor, still clutching her stomach, and crawled slowly over to her bed.

“Fuck…guess you should’ve…ate something first huh?” Rose moaned as the cramping intensified along with the nausea. Her breathing became more labored as her body broke out in a full sweat. Rose managed to crawl up into her bed and curled herself up in a fetal position as more waves of nausea hit but at least the cramping was letting up slightly. Tears streamed down her face as Rose worked to control her breathing. Slowly, she slipped into a meditative state and was able to block most of the pain and discomfort from her mind.

As she delved deeper, her mind’s eye started to focus more but it became intense as more vibrant colors and shapes bombarded her vision. Rose felt an overwhelming rush of psychic and magical energies flooding her brain. Before it got to be too much for her to handle and it burned out her synapses, Rose focus all the energies to obey her commands and show her more of Duncan and his magical abilities that he has.

“Show me what I wish to know, show me Duncan Morgan!” Rose mentally commanded.

In a flash, more and more energies flowed through her mind then Rose saw the silhouette of a man but it looked nothing like Duncan as far as she could see. Then another silhouetted figure appeared beside the man, this one had more of a feminine feel to it. The female figure began to bloat around her abdomen which confuse Rose for a moment, but then it hit her. Was these two representations Duncan’s parents? Then a female voice spoke to Rose, it was both melodious and commanding respect as she drifted off into a dream state, “As you sleep, more shall be revealed to you whether you like it or not, Rose. Sleep now!”

Duncan sat idly at his post, the rain poured down harder and it chilled him to the bone. He looked over the wall at the surrounding forest and noticed movement here and there. Fucking Chouls! Always lurking and ever watchful, waiting for an opportunity to feed on some unsuspecting traveler or wild game. Duncan wished he could go down there and clear out the forest of these loathsome creatures but any attempts in engaging with the ghouls could be his last, their intelligence and ability to communicate non-verbally can make a simple fight turn into a feast. Duncan had seen that scenario play out too often during his travels, someone wants to showoff just how badass they were and before they realize it, they’re surrounded and then the screams of terror and pain followed.

Duncan’s hand gripped the hilt of his sword as he tried to keep his mind preoccupied so that he wouldn’t notice the cold by watching the forest or glaring at Sully’s holy monstrosity of a cart. The voice in his mind would scream out the same message as before: “DEATH!” He wasn’t certain where exactly the voice came from, but Duncan used it to his advantage and it did keep him alive on more than one occasion on the road. The burning question in his mind was why he had it in the first place. Did it come from the stress of the Christian apocalypse, like a mental break down? It seemed plausible to him except it wasn’t like a typical psychotic break because it was quiet and not constant.

Duncan had a few friends that had schizophrenia and understood how they struggled on a daily basis with and the chaos that plagued their minds. He saw the heartache and the pain it caused their family and loved ones. Just the memory of this tugged at Duncan’s heart because no matter what happened with his friends, he did the best he could to be a friend to them when all others wouldn’t. Duncan glanced again at the forest as a feeling of unease crept into his mind.

“What are you bastards up to?” Duncan muttered under his breath, “What are you waiting for?”

“Probably waiting on the traders to leave here.”

Duncan whipped head away from the forest and gazed up at Alex in surprise. Alex put his hands up to show wasn’t a threat to Duncan which puzzled him.

“Easy there, big guy! I come in peace so I’d appreciate it if you would sheath your weapon.”

Duncan glanced down and saw his sword was in his hand and pointing at Alex’s stomach. Why did I do that? Why don’t I recall this movement? “Sorry about that, I’m feeling a bit on edge at the moment.”

Alex grinned - “Really, it doesn’t show?”

“Next time don’t sneak up on me like that.” Duncan stood up and sheathed his sword, “I just about made you into a Choul happy meal.”

“Awww don’t be like that! You mean you would rather feed my dead body to those things than give me a proper burial?”

“Yep because I’m lazy like that and I don’t want to hurt my back digging a damn hole for your sorry carcass. It would be pointless to do so, the Chouls would eventually smell your rotting flesh and dig you up and eat you anyways.”

Alex’s jaw dropped as his face paled – “What? No fucking way! You’re kidding me right?”

“On which part? Me being lazy or the Chouls digging you up?” Duncan asked with a sly grin.

“The first one of course! Why wouldn’t you want to bury me?”

Duncan put his hand on Alex’s shoulder, “My friend, is that what you would do? If someone you knew died, would you bury them?” Alex quickly nodded, so Duncan went on, “Then you would be digging your own grave, especially if you were out in the wilderness and not here in the safe confines of this village.”

“What do you mean?”

Duncan looked over his shoulder at the village below them, “This is a life and a luxury being in a place like this, but out there in the real world you have to make hard choices. Things that will go against every moral fiber of your being. If you stop to dig a grave, you become so wrapped up in the task that you won’t see or hear the Chouls that are creeping up behind you as you dig away.”

Alex squinted his eyes at Duncan as the rain fell harder once more, still unconvinced he was being honest with him but Duncan did make a good point. Splashing from beyond the walls caught both Alex and Duncan’s attention. They both looked down and saw the ghouls were on the move, heading towards the main gate. To Duncan, the ghouls resembled ants marching in a single file line. What are those things up to?

They both ran along the wall top, trying to get a better view of the situation. Duncan cried as loud as he could to the other wall guards, “We got Chouls at the gate! Everyone to the gate!” Once they got to the main gate wall, Duncan saw the ghouls standing there. They weren’t banging on the gate or trying to climb it either. The ghouls stood a good ten feet away from the gate, waiting with all the patience of the dead.

“What are they doing Duncan?” Alex asked, feeling perplexed.

“I don’t know but whatever it is, it can’t be good for any of us.” Duncan replied as he rubbed his chin in contemplation. Another guard at the opposite end of the village cried out, “More ghouls are over here as well!”

“What are they doing?” Duncan yelled back.

“N-nothing! Just standing there, being creepy as fuck!”

Duncan could see the villagers looking around, fear in their eyes as many of them gathered together for strength and safety. These were good people, not fighters like me! They shouldn’t have to live in fear. Then a familiar voice started shouting, using an old bullhorn to carry his message.

“This village is filled to the brim with heathens and sinners!” Sully snarled from the proclamation platform, “I tried my best to convince you people to turn away from your wicked ways but now it’s too late for all of you!”

“Alex, come with me! We need to take him out!” Duncan barked as he ran for the nearest ladder.

“Why? Other than being a religious prick, what has he done wrong?”

“He’s a crazy zealot and I believe he’s going to do something rash! Move your ass!”

As Duncan got to the ground he could hear Sully continuing on with his malicious ranting as he stalked closer to the religious man. His words were unnerving some of the villagers and making them nervous, which made Duncan furious to no end.

“This village has to be cleansed of all the sinners that reside in it. The good Lord Jesus has sent me on this quest and now you all shall parish by his mighty weapon!” Several screams caught Duncan’s attention. He quickly turned around and couldn’t believe what his eyes were seeing. Ghouls! Ghouls were crawling out from under Sully’s cart. Was that how he made his cart move without a motor or animals?

“Everyone to the courtyard! Chouls are within the walls!” Duncan roared.

“The ghouls shall feast on your flesh and drag your souls down into the fiery pits of Hell! Open the gates and feast my fallen brothers and sisters! I shall lead you to all to the ones you must smite with your teeth!” Sully cried out and then he held a small box in his hand and then came a click and then…

BOOM!

Duncan hid behind the nearest trader cart while the villagers scattered or dropped to the ground as chunks of rock and mortar flew through the air like projectile missiles. The explosion took out the south wall, leaving a massive hole where several men who were on guard at the time, battered and broken on the ground. As the dust started to settle, Duncan saw the ghouls were making their way through the gaping hole in the wall and dragging away the wall guards’ bodies. More screams cried out and Duncan looked behind him and saw the other ghouls that were hidden in the cart were heading over to the main gate. To Duncan’s horror, the ghouls were grabbing for the wooden planks to unlock the main gate. They had formed a line to protect several other ghouls that were tasked with job of opening the gate.

Alex and several other armed guards made their way to the main gate but it seemed none of them were having much luck braking the ghoul’s line. The guards were slicing and hacking away but the ghouls would seem to move in unison, not getting cut at all. The villagers were running around everywhere in terror, trying to make their way to their huts as more ghouls poured in from the southern wall. Duncan resumed his angry march towards Sully. The man had a look of pure bliss which only infuriated Duncan even more. Two ghouls rushed towards him, but Duncan made a swiping arch with his sword and took the head off the first one and nearly beheaded the second. He took the steps that led up to the proclamation platform two at a time with murder in his cobalt eyes.

“Judgment is upon your disgusting village!” Sully snarled through the bullhorn, then his gaze locked on Duncan, “Time to die, you pitiful wretch!”

Duncan swung his sword and chopped Sully’s bullhorn in half and then he thrust his blade into Sully’s chest and twisted it. Sully dropped down to his knees and clutched his chest as Duncan yanked his sword away.

“Your death was too swift of a punishment for you, Sully!” Duncan hissed as he turned his attention back to the swarm of ghouls. Duncan heard the tell-tale sound of creaking that the main gate made, which meant the ghouls had opened it and now the village was truly lost. Duncan felt dazed as his jaw seared with pain. He staggered as he turned in the direction from where the blow came from. Bewilderment hit Duncan harder than the punch as he saw Sully standing in a fighting stance, his fists clenched and blood oozing from his chest wound.

“Stabbing an unarmed man, that’s not very sporting of you, Mr. Morgan!” Sully grinned.

“I consider your Chouls to be weapon enough to justify it, you son of a whore!”

Sully jutted out his chin in pride – “You can’t kill me, the Christ has made me pure and immortal. There’s nothing you can do to -”

Duncan swung his sword and cleaved off Sully head with one strike. Sully’s body dropped in a bloody heap at Duncan’s feet. He grabbed Sully’s head by his hair and looked at it for a moment, waiting to see if he would run his righteous mouth once more but nothing happened. Duncan felt several hands grab him from behind. Duncan spun out of the ghoul’s grasp and swung Sully’s head around, using as a shield to smash into their faces.

The ghouls backed away, staring at the head. Duncan swayed the head back and forth and to his surprise, the ghouls watched intently as if waiting for instructions or for it to move aside to they could feast on Duncan. Screams of terror and anguish assailed his eyes as one by one the villagers were being eaten alive in their huts and all around the village. Duncan felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he felt more ghouls coming up behind him. He waiting for what seemed like ages for one of them to take a bite out of him but nothing happened.

He turned slightly and saw that there were at least eight ghouls surrounding him but none made a move at him, silently staring with their mouths quivering for flesh. Chills ran down Duncan’s spine and he felt leery towards them. He didn’t trust that they would stay this was for too long. Maybe when Sully’s head was cold would the ghouls notice he wasn’t alive? Duncan bent down over Sully’s body and pulled off his belt. He lashed Sully’s head around his waist, figuring that if this spot of good luck wore off then he could have a fighting chance instead of being caught with a dead head in his hand rather than his sword.

Duncan stood up and moved towards the stairs. He expected a fight but all the ghouls stepped aside, parting like Moses did to the Red Sea. Duncan chuckled inwardly at the irony of that thought as he swiftly bounded down off the platform. He kept his sword out and a hand on Sully’s head, not wanting to fall off and roll away. He decided to head to his small hut and grab his gear and make a run for the forest because anywhere was better than staying in here. Ghouls reached for him or lunged but none actually touched Duncan.

“I guess you’re not a total useless dick after all.” Duncan smiled as he patted Sully’s head.

It was pandemonium throughout the village. People were either being dragged from their huts while being ripped open or ghouls were stepping out of huts with crimson and bits of flesh and entrails smearing their maws. The main gate was no longer guarded and all the guards that were defending it were now on the ground being devoured and trampled too. I’m sorry Alex, Duncan thought remorsefully, you fought well and did your job just take solace in the fact that you and your buddies have been avenged. Anger filled Duncan’s thoughts so he took out his fury and frustration on any ghouls that stood idly by as he passed them, loping heads off left and right.

The door to his hut had already been broken down and several ghouls were waiting for him to return. Duncan paused, flinching when he saw them, and then he let out a pinned up breath when none of them made any moves to attack him. Duncan decided to send them back to their graves and one by one, he chopped their heads off. If they’re going to break in here and standby quietly in my home, then why not dispatch them Duncan thought as he wiped his blade clean on one of the ghoul’s tattered jacket?

Duncan set his sword down on hay covered floor and grabbed his sleeping bag and tucked it into a set of straps on his backpack. He opened the backpack and threw in his cast iron skillet and pot, as well as his utensils, and then he zipped it up and slipped it on his back. Duncan picked his sword up and slowly stood up, looking around at his small shack for anything else that he may need in his escape. Duncan was a creature of habit, he never unpacked his backpack when he decided to stay here in Melona which meant he could bug out in a heartbeat if need be.

Rose always made him feel welcome and wanted him to stay forever in her own way, but Duncan never felt at home anywhere he went and he always had a nagging thought that he would have to leave this place too. Duncan never seemed to fit in anywhere, before and after the firestorms, which made him feel like the outsider constantly. Kind of hard to trust others and get to know them when they all went silent as you walk into the room. Even with his wife, Duncan knew she hid many things from him and kept many secrets too which led to many fights and arguments.

How can you know someone when they don’t show you their true self? Duncan mused as he brushed away a spot of hay with his foot. Under it was a flat rock that he lifted up. He had made a small cache hidden from prying eyes and felt the need to protect them. Duncan knew he would be kicking himself later if he had forgotten to grab his two pieces of survival gear. A small tackle box with an assortment of lures, baits, and hooks as well as a collapsible fishing rod and reel and a crossbow with hand-carved bolts from his many years of travel.

As he pulled his backpack off again, he stowed his fishing gear inside it plus his crossbow bolts. They wouldn’t do any good against the Chouls but they were great for wild game. He slung the crossbow on his back and then he slipped his backpack on. Life on the road, ready or not here I come again, Duncan thought with a grim look. He walked towards the doorways and saw more ghouls wandering inside. Duncan paid no attention to them as he walked between them and went back outside.

Duncan unclipped a small canteen from his belt and strolled over to the village well. Better fill it up before I go, Duncan thought as more ghouls glared and stared at him. He had a sneaking suspicion that his camouflage wasn’t going to last much longer but he decided that he would worry about that when the time came, when he was far away from this place.

More ghouls were wandering up the proclamation platform, probably drawn there by Sully’s headless body. Duncan ladled water from a small wooden bucket into his canteen quickly and decided to take a few gulps from the ladle before hooking under his belt. He turned around to leave Melona through the destroyed wall because it was closer plus the flooded stream would make crossing it difficult for the ghouls if the decided to give him chase. Duncan took long strides but every so often for some reason he couldn’t explain, he would glance at the other huts.

All the doors to the huts were broken down or ripped off their hinges, save one and it was the one that belonged to Rose. Duncan glared at it for a long moment, uncertain of whether he should make a run for it or risk his neck for the sorceress. As he focused on her hut, the strange inner voice in his head piped up.

SAVE HER

Duncan scowled as he looked up at his forehead and groaned, thanks for trying to keep me safe and out of harm’s way you sorry ass mystery voice. He knew he would never get any peace from it so Duncan begrudgingly ran towards Rose’s hut. He sliced and hacked his way to it mainly because he wasn’t sure just how much protection Sully’s head would give the both of them. She may have magical powers but unless she could chop heads off with them, Rose would be defenseless against a swarm of ghouls, which only angered Duncan even more.

Great, he thought, I’m on babysitting duty. Already he could see more ghouls banging on Rose’s door. Her doors her were stronger than everyone else’s but like all the other doors, it could only hold out for so long. The ghouls were pounding and clawing at the door, leaving streaks of black ichor from where their fingernails had ripped off. Duncan pushed passed the ghouls that were too slow to move or take notice of him. What the hell was that bitch up to? Had she escaped already? No Duncan would’ve seen signs of Rose either casting her magic in protection or snarling orders to the guards. If Rose was still in there, then why hadn’t she come out to see what was going on in her little village. Hell the explosion would have alerted me that something was going horribly wrong, Duncan mused.

As Duncan got within ten feet of Rose’s hut, the hinges finally pulled away from the door frame as the wood splinted and cracked. Duncan sprinted as fast as he could so he could stop the ghouls from flooding Rose’s huge quarters. Duncan hacked and severed heads and legs, but it seemed like there were just too many for him to deal with and get to Rose in the nick of time. Stupid fucking voice! Why do you want me to save this spoiled little brat anyways?

Like a clogged sink with water backed up in it, the doorway that was clogged with ghouls fighting with the heavy door finally gave way and Duncan spilled into Rose’s gigantic hut. Duncan couldn’t believe what his eyes were showing him. Rose was passed out on her queen size bed, only wearing a bath robe that was barely covering her body. This is going to be interesting indeed, Duncan sarcastically groaned inwardly.

Next Chapter: Chapter Four