Fear of Mystics (Saga of Mystics Book 2) (9 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

              Another warm September day made Adam Cross anxious. He was alone at the Hillside now. There were other people, but his love was not there. Erica had left a few days before for the safety of the Bluffs.  She was off to give birth to their baby girl and he was here, an administrator at a school for healers.  He desperately wanted to be with her.

They had celebrated the second anniversary of the Event with the students and other healers a little over a month ago. It was hard to believe two years had passed without technology of any kind. That was the smallest thing it was hard to believe. Taking his reprieve from the mid-afternoon sun, under the shade of the large aspen grove that grew next to the Hillside’s pond and stream, he closed his eyes while lying in the tall grass Emma had grown all that time ago. A warm, but pleasant breeze blew across the water and picked up a little coolness. Adam was grateful for that.

Opening his eyes, Adam saw Mitchell heading his way. Mitchell was a jovial man, one of the warriors that had not been a cadet.  He was one of those stragglers they had just picked up along the way. He was quick with a joke, and everyone enjoyed his company. He approached with purpose, but no seeming urgency.

              “Hey, bro. Some dudes down the hill for you.” Mitchell said calmly.

              “Who are they?” Adam asked, not moving from his relaxing spot.

              Mitchell just looked at him and smiled. “Fuck if I know, man. You want me to walk back down and ask, then walk back here and tell you? They are just some dudes on horses.”

              Adam raised up and dusted the grass off his clothes, his back a little damp from the moisture in the grass. “Horses, huh?”

              Mitchell grinned again. “Four dudes on horses, you think they are the Four Horsemen?”

              Adam laughed. “Well, this is the apocalypse, so I guess they could be. They asked for the guy in charge?”

              “No, man.” Mitchell shook his head. “They asked for Adam Cross.”

              Adam was a little shocked, but maybe his name had got around.  It didn’t really matter; he would have gone anyway. He and Mitchell walked the windy road down to the first landing, not in a rush. After checking on a student group on that landing, they continued down to the gates and out into the meeting area. In the last two years, the area at the bottom of the Hillside had turned into a little community. This is not only where the students lived and learned, but a small town had developed from people who came there for safety. Kayla and her Terras had spent months building the area and enclosing it with walls for protection.  They had left the original road leading that way as the main thoroughfare, and had left a large space in the middle for meeting and celebrations. Adam and Mitchell walked into this open area, where they saw the four horses first. The men were on the other side of the horses, standing in a small group and talking.

              “Welcome to the Hillside,” Adam greeted them as he walked their way.

              From behind one of the horses strode a tall, tanned man with shaggy gray hair and a medium length beard. He looked very different, but Adam would have known him anywhere. Major Eric Fine had made it inside their defenses. Adam stopped right where he was, and Mitchell took a defensive stance, though he clearly didn’t know why he was doing it.

              “Thank you for the welcome, Cross. It is good to see you.” Eric walked over and reached a hand out to shake Adam’s hand. Adam was too shocked to respond and did not want to put his hand into that monster’s grip. He just stood looking at Eric.

              “Ah,” Eric said, dropping his hand, but smiling broadly. “Don’t worry. I am not here for conflict. I need to talk.”

              Adam was offended immediately. “What do we have to talk about?”

              Eric laughed. “Oh, I don’t want to talk to you, Doc. I am here to talk with Craven.”

              “He isn’t here.”

              Another smile, this time a knowing one, crossed Eric’s face. “Yes. I know. He is at Council Bluffs. But, if I had gone up that long road, the fight would have been brought to me before I had a chance to talk.  So, I came here instead. Since I have not hurt you, or the others, he can be assured I am here in peace.”

              “Or you can hold us hostage, you mean.” Adam knew this man too well for this charade.

              “Adam Cross, why so negative?” Eric walked forward and clapped Adam on the arm. “It seems that there is a bigger threat to both of us than either of us is to the other. I would like to discuss this and see if we can come to some kind of agreement. Is that so hard to believe?”

              “Yes.” Adam glanced to Mitchell, who tightened his grip on the hilt of the blade that hung from his waste.

              Eric crossed his arms. “Now you are being rude. I could dismantle all of your guards without my men even being involved.  This is not a fighting post. I could have taken your pretty, and very pregnant wife, on her way to the Bluffs, if I had wanted hostages.”

              Adam’s heart skipped a beat. Eric Fine knew too much.  He knew about the Bluffs. He knew about their warriors. He knew about Erica. “You stay away from Erica.”

              “She is fine. I saw her heading up the long road to the Bluffs, she was accompanied by three fighters. My guess is she was within the gates by an hour after I saw her. And, congratulations, by the way. Married and about to be a father. Good for you.” This time, it seemed Eric thought better of clapping him on the shoulder.

              The man was certainly not there to fight, at least not right now. Adam turned to Mitchell, “There is a Shepherd out front. Go tell her what has transpired, send for Ted.”

              “A German Shepherd? So, it is true. The girl speaks with animals, amazing!” Eric turned around to his men and waved them to go sit down. They all pulled canteens and some kind of pouch with food from their packs and walked to some nearby benches, sitting down to relax.

              “It may be a long wait.” Adam said. “I mean it may be days, I am not sure Ted is at home right now. Perhaps you could come back.”

              Eric smiled a knowing smile. “Adam, let’s not insult each other.  I am going nowhere. You can either give us rooms to sleep in, or we will pitch tents right here in your courtyard. You choose.”

              Adam couldn’t come up with a better solution. He called to some instructors who were waiting nearby. “Prepare the hospice rooms for them.”

              Eric broke out in a laugh, “Hospice? Cross, good for you for keeping it lighthearted.”

              Adam turned around and walked back toward the inner gates. He wasn’t sure who would like the wait less, Eric Fine or himself.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

              Walking everywhere had become easier over the last two years, but the robes were still burdensome. Sal had always been theatrical, but Cory did not love the robes he had made the Lord’s Hammer wear. Cory and his three friends, Tyler, Nate and Jim, made up the Lord’s Hammer. They did work they believed in, which was only a continuance of the work they did before the end times. They had been political operatives and culture warriors, working within Sal Martino’s operation. Now they worked directly for God, though the structure really hadn’t changed that much.

              Years before, barely out of High School, Cory had met Sal when he worked to get the President elected by bringing cultural issues to the forefront.  All of that seemed so long ago, and so unimportant in comparison to what they were doing now. Now, they were separating the wheat from the chaff in the end times. The apocalypse had not happened exactly as expected, but Minister Sal had shown everyone how it still conformed to the scriptures. Cory and his friends played an important role in these end times.

              He did love the bond he had with the other Lord’s Hammer, a spiritual bond that had happened almost immediately upon the end of technology. Due to their almost shared thoughts, they did not need to speak, and Sal had made sure they committed to not speaking any longer before sending them out to do the Lord’s work. Sal was big on the theatricality of their unspoken bond. Capturing and burning the heretics and the demon-possessed was daunting, but it was made easier by their bond.

              On this mid-September day, Cory and his friends went from street to street looking for the evil ones. God had granted the Lord’s Hammer the ability to take away people’s demonic powers.  Most people thought it was permanent, but it wasn’t.  The power drain was only active when the Lord’s Hammer were present.  Occasionally, they had met people who were so full of the Adversary’s power that it took all four of them to blunt that power. The witch, Annie Grace, had been one of those. Most just melted when in the presence of the these four of God’s holy warriors.

              This particular trip had a point. Sal had sent them out to track down the one known as the Wanderer, or the Traveler. They had been searching for weeks, following rumor and the hint of a story across the eastern and southern parts of the old city. They had left areas over which the Faith held sway, and searched in areas in which the use of powers was prevalent. After all their searching, Cory was not sure they weren’t tracing a rumor. This man was supposedly very powerful in the dark arts. He was a shadow of a man. No one had a good description, and those who mentioned something were usually grandiose descriptions born from fear. He had glowing eyes, supposedly. Some said he was a vagabond. Some said he was John the Baptist. He sounded like an urban legend to all of them. But all of that was about to change.

              Turning onto a street covered in the leaves of autumns arrival, they saw a man standing in the middle of the street. They could feel his power tugging at them, as they turned as one toward him. He did not run, as some do, and he did not seem afraid in the slightest. When they were thirty yards or so away, he took the dark sunglasses off and Cory could see the sparkle of his eyes. They glowed with a golden light, and sparkled like gems. Without quickening their pace, nor slowing, the Lord’s Hammer walked toward him and he did not move. The glowing eyes were the first indicator they might have found their prey.

              As they moved closer, the man looked down at his hands and flexed them. Cory knew what he was doing, this man was experiencing the power drain, it always threw the demons off. This was going to be easier than he could have hoped for. He had the right man. This mud-covered vagrant was the legend of whom so many stories were told, and at whom so many knees trembled. It was a joke. In reality, he was a vagrant, with matted hair and a long beard. Dirt covered his flesh and his clothes

              He wasn’t sure which one of his comrades willed it, but as one, they all pulled the cudgels from their sleeves as they moved close to the Wanderer. Cory looked into those eyes as the power drain dulled the glow and removed the sparkle, and he stared into the dull green eyes of a common man. He would strike him down with God’s mighty power and rid the old city of his perverse abilities.

As he raised his cudgel over his head to strike the man, his friends did the same. Cory was closest, and relished the thought of ridding the area of this menace. The Wanderer moved with blinding speed in raising his own arm in an upward arc. He should not have been able to move that quickly. But, quickly he had moved, and something was in his hand.

Cory didn’t feel the pain immediately, but he did see the blood and his own hand fly off the wrist. As he looked back at his foe, he saw the man replace a blade into a sheath at his waist. The Lord’s Hammer rushed forward, losing their concentration. None of them defended against the evil vagrant. Cory fell to the ground as one of his friends tied off his wrist with a tourniquet. His blood still oozed from the stump, but had stopped spurting out. The loss of blood was causing him to grow woozy.

The world had gone silent, he could hear no sounds at all as the shock set in. As he looked at the Wanderer still standing there, Cory’s blood dripping from the top of the sheath at the Wanderer’s waist, he was shocked at the sight. The man did nothing to wipe the fresh blood from his blade. Once again, Cory looked up at those eyes, the face still as stone. The man looked right back at him, catching his gaze and holding it. The Wanderer smiled, and his eyes exploded with a golden glow in an instant. They had been played. His own arrogance had cost Cory his hand. The man had never been weakened by them. The Lord’s Hammer had walked right into his trap.

              As Cory began to lose consciousness from shock, and the moderate loss of blood prior to the tourniquet being applied, he watched this man put his sunglasses back on and slowly walk away. The Wanderer was not concerned about them at all, and Cory felt fear for the first time since all went wrong.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

              Nat looked forward to returning to her home and her family. It would take a few days to get back across the city, and back to Council Bluffs, but her excitement grew with each day.  This trip had been informative and they had acquired some trade relationships with some survivors’ camps, but it would be good to be home.

              “That farm up to the right…” Antwon called out. This would be the farm that her Mom’s itineracy had visited. Ted had decided to make one more appeal, before heading home. Riding their bikes up, they waited outside the gates to see the Richards’.  Ted did not want to offend them by entering their property without permission. Nat hoped someone would see them before they stood there like idiots for an hour. There were definitely people in the house, and she was almost sure someone looked out the window at them.

              “Cliff!” Ted shouted behind her. “Where are you going?”

              She turned and saw the boy hauling ass on his bicycle down the road in the opposite direction of the way they were headed.

“Damn it, boy.” Ted exclaimed, “Nat, Antwon, chase him down and bring him back. I don’t know what he is thinking.”

              Cliff had grown even more reclusive over the course of their trip, he did not speak at all anymore and his skin had taken on a greenish hue that caused everyone concern. They didn’t really talk about it and Cliff would not let Antwon even look at him, but Nat guessed that Antwon was sent to force Cliff to comply with a check-up. Natalee pushed her bike hard to catch up, as she saw him head off the road into a dense corn field.

              When she and Antwon pulled up, they both thought they would be wiser than Cliff had been and dropped their bikes at the side of the field, running into the area into which they had seen him disappear.

              “Cliff!” Antwon called out.

              “Come on, buddy!” Nat seconded.

              There was no sound initially, but suddenly they heard the crush of metal and a strange sound ahead in the corn.  Looking at each other in shock, they both ran forward. Rushing into an open area in the middle of the field, they were horrified to see Cliff’s bike, mangled beyond recognition laying amidst the downed corn stalks.  Something large had torn the bike to shreds like it was plywood.

              “Cliff,” Natalee called out with urgency and fear, but quieter than the first time. She wasn’t sure what else was out here.

              Something moved in the stalks ahead of them, large and scaly. As Nat inched her way closer, she pulled her blade from out of its scabbard. There in the dark between two corn stalks, she saw huge serpentine eyes staring back at her, then the creature who had attacked their friend turned its back and slithered as quickly as a snake can move. It was out of sight, and there was nothing Nat could do but try to run after it.  It was shockingly fast, but there was a chance Nat could catch it. At the very least she would be able to chase it away from their young friend, wherever he was. But, Nat was brought up short. A few feet into the clearing, she found a massive amount of blood and a heap of loose skin. It was just a few yards into the patch. She fell to her knees.

              The hoodie, soaked in blood and ripped to shreds lay right in the middle of the gory scene. He hadn’t even been gone very long. This great snake, or whatever it was, had torn him to shreds in seconds. Antwon came and kneeled beside her. Neither of them could believe he was gone. After a short while, Antwon tugged at her to get her out of the patch. It was not safe for them to remain.

              “No. He was one of us. We bury him.”

              “I hear you, Nat. I really do.” Antwon was clearly struggling against a fear of being in this field without clear vision. “We need to get back and tell your uncle what happened.”

              “Go ahead, I am burying what is left of him.” Nat began to dig with her hands in the dirt. After a pause, Antwon joined in, probably just to make it faster. They didn’t have to dig far, there wasn’t much left of him but scraps of flesh. After about twenty minutes, they had a moment of silence for him. Then, to Antwon’s relief, they made their way back to their bikes.

              Riding back was slower, the words were not coming to Nat how she would explain this. She thought of Kin, and telling her boyfriend that the last member of his family had been killed. She was at a loss, but as they came within sight of the farmhouse, Nat could see a body in the street and someone kneeling nearby. The thoughts of Cliff’s demise were numbed by the chance that the body in the street was her Uncle Ted. She recognized his form, but her mind would not accept it.

Another person ran toward him with a pail or something in their hands. Nat and Antwon both picked up their speed immediately, sprinting their bikes for maximum speed. As they drew close, Nat could see the person sprawled out on the street was definitely Ted. But, he was moving. He was still alive! Antwon went to his side and settled into a healing. Nat pulled her blade and walked up to the couple who were there.

              “Where are the rest of my group?” She asked, pointing the blade at the woman’s chest.

              The woman, and her husband, cowered away from Nat. The man said, “The Faith took them. There is nothing we could do.”

              “Nat,” came the weary voice of her uncle behind her and Nat turned. “They didn’t do anything. They were being victimized also. These guys came, looked like monks and another who looked like a priest and claimed that the Hermit had done them some harm.  They told us to bring the Hermit to them for justice.  Then they took Rich, Emma, and Anthony.”

              “Uncle Ted.” Nat inquired, “How were they able to attack you?”

              Her uncle shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs of being bludgeoned over the head. “They took my powers away, like being around your grandmother, but much worse. Where is Cliff?”

              Natalee’s tears broke through, but she did not sob. She couldn’t answer.

              “Something in the field got him.” Antwon offered. “We buried what was left.”

              “No…” Ted exhaled, “Cliff.”