Lycan Fallout (Book 2): Fall of Man (35 page)

Chapter Twenty-One – Mike Journal Entry 12

Azile had pulled back the veil. I don’t know how she did it. I only know why. Without the moorings of a soul, I had gone adrift, far over the edge I had sailed, nearly entrapped in that abyss I’d fallen into. It was the light that showed just how far I’d gone. Coming back had taken hours, if the approaching dawn was any indication. I was laid out in a small clearing on my back, stones roughly the size of baseballs in a circle completely around me. What looked like salt lined the entire ring. A large, black bird had hopped onto one of those stones and was cocking its head back and forth to look at me. One eye was the color of pitch, the other white as snow. It was unnerving; I could not get the feeling out of my head that through each eye the beast saw that half of me. On one side, the evil that had permeated throughout my entire being, and the other, the core of good from which I’d be hewn.

Which did it find more dominant?

He cawed loudly before taking flight. I looked at my hands. They were a slight red color; not from discoloration of blood residue, but from a healthy scrubbing I had apparently received at some time during the night. My clothes were gone, and in their place were the more traditional garb of the day, which were about as comfortable to wear as fine-grit sandpaper. I sat up entirely too fast, my head spinning on its own particular axis. I thought I was in the throes of a hallucination as I saw Azile coming down the pathway to me. Her feet never touching the ground, she glided like a specter. She had shed her traditional red coloring for a soft blue. Flowers of yellow braided in her hair. A ringlet of green leaves encircled her head.

Panic welled up in me. I had killed her, and now her disembodiment had come down to tell me of my transgression. I hung my head in shame.

“I’m so sorry, Azile.”

“For what, Michael?” I saw her small, shoeless feet glide impossibly over the small rock wall. She reached down and touched my face as her feet touched ground. She knelt by my side.

“You’re real?” I asked as I reached to touch the hand she still had on my face.

“You were in more danger of leaving this plane than I was last night.”

The prior events flooded back with an unwanted attention to detail. 

“What have I done?”

“You’ve stopped a war.”

It took long seconds for those words to gain recognition within my shattered mind. Azile was beaming down on me. How could she? How could she have been a witness to what I did and still feel that way?

“Jangrut has taken his men and fled. I expect the rest will do the same sometime this afternoon. It’s over. You’ve saved Talboton and countless lives on both sides.”

“I saved lives?” I questioned with sarcasm, remembering those individuals I had hacked to death.

“War is evil in and of itself. You did what needed to be done…what had to be done.”

I could only remember a boy, not much older than my sons had been when the zombies first came as he cried for his mother. I had turned the blade so that the heavy hammer part struck the side of his jaw, sending teeth and bone fragments into the wall behind him. I’d shredded the skin and broken his jaw completely off. He sobbed with his mouth hanging impossibly wide now that the lower part of his mouth was no longer hinged to the top. I brought the hammer side down again, this time atop his skull, driving the steel through his memories, his hopes, his desires. His arms and legs shook violently as the electrical signal from brain to appendages was scrambled.

“It could have been done another way.” I was trying my best to move away from my present imagery. I didn’t necessarily mean from killing, just the way in which it had been doled out. “Thank you for helping me. I don’t know that I would have been able to prevent myself from attacking Bailey.” Just one more thing in a long line of things I needed to feel ashamed for. Would Bailey even want to be near me again?

“You should not doubt your own resolve. You would have stopped.”

I said nothing to Azile, but I was not so sure. I wanted to kill Bailey, well, anybody really and everybody because I could. That was the only reasoning—to kill because I could. I shuddered. I think even mass murderers had more reason, like maybe their momma didn’t love them enough or they’d maybe seen it in a video game. Sending spirits on their journey was my only incentive, and I had enjoyed it.

“Stop, Michael. Just stop. I can just about hear your thoughts spiraling down into oblivion. You were swept up in a battle; you are not the first to have done so. No matter the amount of death in that hallway, you saved more lives than you know.”

“There was another battle in a corridor a long time ago. I was with Tommy. I miss him. I miss everyone I’ve lost.” I placed my face in my hands and sobbed. My feelings had swung completely from rage to sorrow. I was lost, the type of lost that no map or heavy doses of lithium could cure. It was that overwhelming anxious feeling of not knowing how to return back to a position of normal.

Once upon a time I had been placed on Tramadol, which was a non-narcotic pain medication for a shoulder issue I was having. It messed with serotonin levels or something. Didn’t think much about it, though. How many of you have actually read the warnings about your medication or the risks of drug interactions? Well, about a week after getting on the Tramadol I got a little sick, so I took some Nyquil, the preferred medication for all those unwilling to deal with their symptoms and just want to sleep. Who fucking knew pseudoephedrine interacted with Tramadol? Not this guy, I can tell you that. Within minutes of taking the Nyquil, I had thrown my mind into a tailspin. I didn’t know which way was up and not in a good way. I would go from panic attack to anxiety and depression and then back again. A piece of me—a small, normal piece—was able to sit on the sidelines and wonder what the fuck was going on and why couldn’t we right this wayward ship? It took hours before opening up the gun case didn’t seem like a good idea. Do you know how fucking scary that is? This was how I was feeling right now, and I didn’t have a bad mixture of drugs in my system to blame it on. For all I knew this could become my new baseline of normal and if that was the case, nobody, including myself, would want to be around me.

I alternated that day from crying, to lying in the fetal position and hitching, to flat out yelling and then sleeping. It was nighttime when I woke up, a small fire by my side. Azile was nowhere to be found. She’d left some dried beef and some water, the latter of which I drank heavily. My throat felt like I’d been wandering the desert for a week, trying to eat sand as a substitute for liquids. I had to think on it a moment as to why my body was so sore. I stood before pulling up my shirt. I was crisscrossed with a myriad of punctures, scrapes, scratches and the bruising of blunt trauma. It was the desperate strikes of the damned before I sent them on their way. There wasn’t any more than a couple of square inches on my body that hadn’t suffered some sort of ordeal. I pulled the front of my pants out a little just to, umm, you know, check and make sure the equipment was fine.

“I see you’re feeling better.”

I immediately let go. Damn pants nearly fell to the ground, I had to grab them quickly before that happened.  “Really, this is when you stroll on by?”

“I would have come sooner but I just got back from the surrendering ceremony.”

I arched an eyebrow. “I’m sorry I missed it.”

“It was better that you weren’t there.”

“I can understand that. Jangrut?”

“He wasn’t there as well.”

“So now what?”

“What do you mean?”

“They just gave up. Is there any sort of retribution on their part? You can’t just start a war and then, when you lose, go home as if nothing happened. You should lose something, land, money, something.”

“I do not believe Talboton is in the business of expanding its empire.”

“Don’t patronize me, you know what I mean.”

“No, I’m sorry, you’re right. They will all be required to pay a tithe for the next ten years that will be used to help the families of the victims who were killed or injured.”

“It’s something I suppose.”

“What would you have them do?”

“Gold or trinkets aren’t going to bring loved ones back,” I said sourly. I was referring to the loss of Talboton citizens as much as I was referring to those families I had torn asunder. “I feel like we just played the warm-up game for what’s really coming.” I looked up, noticing we’d passed the cycle of another full moon. Would we be lucky enough to do so again? And what of Mathieu how had his night gone?

Chapter Twenty-Two – Mike Journal Entry 13

I’m not going to lie and say things went back to normal. Things never go back to normal, not after a war. Nations are fundamentally changed; so it was no surprise that Talboton was altered as well. I don’t want to say paranoid, as that seems too strong of a word. Cautious, maybe?

After the burial of her citizens, and the resultant mourning ceremonies, the daily routine began to impose itself. Life continued, as that was the natural order of things. However, now there was a bigger push to train everyone in town on basic defense. Guards were doubled on the walls, and the walls themselves were repaired and bolstered. A lot of the materials used for this were taken from the combatants. They’d even had the audacity to request they get to take them with! Azile questioned their desire to relent, and they’d left with no further incident, leaving sheets of metal and more war machines that they’d been working on.

Azile had shuddered when she saw the heavily pitted and rusted cannon. To her, it looked like it would blow apart when the first charge was put through it. If not, the damage it would have wrought to the town would have been irreparable. Lana had sought and was granted asylum. Denarth had sent an envoy a week later, at first demanding her return, and then an entreaty to Lana herself, who had declined in person.

Azile had about blown a gasket when the representative from Denarth had talked about how this was straining the relationship between the two townships. She had railed at him that there was no relationship and that Denarth should be groveling at Talboton’s feet for forgiveness before the Lycan came and consumed their town, or possibly even something worse was sent. She’d looked over to me at that point. I’d been sitting as far from the proceedings as possible. It seems that, after my slaughtering of the enemy, not many wanted much to do with me—save Mathieu and Azile.

Berriman, the representative, had almost swallowed his Adam’s apple when she made the threat. He cautiously sent a quick glance my way, cleared his throat, and then offered his apologies to Azile, stating that Lana’s father merely wanted his daughter back.

“I will come home when and
if
I desire,” Lana had told him in no uncertain terms.

Bailey and I were on shaky ground; she could not forget the way I had looked upon her. This was no cross word spoken during a heated argument or a perceived slight on her part. I had quite literally stared at her with murderous intent and would have followed through with it, not if the chance had presented itself because it had, but rather if I had not been interrupted. She was appreciative for what I had done for the town, as were the rest of the inhabitants. But now, I got the distinct impression that they wished I would take my good deed and go elsewhere. More than once I’d told Azile that was exactly what I wanted to do, and more than once she’d told me that the war was far from over.

“The war will never be over.”

She’d furrowed her eyebrows. “Are you going all philosophical on me, Michael?”

“Of course I am. There will always be another fight, and while I’m trapped here, I’ll never be able to find Oggie…or at least what happened to him.”

“Trapped?”

“You know what I mean.” We were in her room, I had to at least make an effort to repeal my words.

“I think you don’t like the feeling of being the pariah.”

“Do you? It sucks. I’m sick of people ushering their kids into their homes when I walk by or hiding behind whatever is closest like I’m going to snap and just start killing again.”

“Things will calm down. They’ll once again remember that what you did was for them.”

“Azile, I don’t care. I’m done here. I’ve more than done my part. I just want to live my life and somehow discover a way for a miraculous reunion with my soul.” I don’t know why I talk first and think later. I’d just told Azile that I can’t wait to get back to my wife and family. Even if it was true, I had feelings for Azile. I could be honest with myself about that, but I lived and breathed for Tracy, and I would find a way back to her.

“The next moon. That’s it, that’s all I ask. If it comes and goes without incident I will release you from whatever bonds you feel are keeping you here.” With that, she arose from the bed. I was left staring at her naked back and I could tell by the way she was walking away she was pissed off. It was not the sensual swaying of one attempting to allure, it was the straightforward movement of someone attempting to get away.

“Yup, that’s right, Talbot, you get so many beautiful naked women in your bed you should just make all of them angry enough to leave,” I berated myself after Azile dressed and walked out.

I’d finish out the month. Oggie was either fine—and I had to believe he was and still would be when I struck out to look for him—or he had come to what I hoped was a peaceful ending, and I’d somehow be able to find him and give him a burial.

The weeks dragged on, if not for Mathieu and his incredible elixir that he was calling Talbräu, in honor of the town, I think I would have gone stir-crazy. I very rarely left my room. Besides the aforementioned Mathieu, the only other person who visited was Gount, and even that was a stiff, almost formal meeting. He thanked me for my service to Talboton, I could tell he wanted out even though he’d barely come in. When I’d opened the door and moved further into the room, he had barely crossed over the threshold to award me some plaque or something. He had one of the seven or eight people with him put it on a chair. I either told him thank you or fuck off; either way, I meant the same thing. I was halfway through the small pony keg Mathieu had dropped off the night before. He said he’d be up later this evening to sample it with me. I had not been able to resist the temptation of its sweet siren song.

By the time he’d come up, the sun had gone down and I had destroyed every piece of furniture in my room, including the mattress. Looked like the world’s most aggressive pillow fight in my room, feathers and bits of wood were strewn all over the place.

“Maybe should have put a locking valve on that,” Mathieu said as he came in. He sat down across from me, leaning against the far wall. “Doing a little redecorating?”

“I have some issues.”

“You don’t say?”

I arched an eyebrow.

“This town is a mess, Michael.”

“Why should they be any different?”

“Is there anything left?” Mathieu was pointing to the only thing in the room that had not suffered my wrath. The small keg was alone in the center of the room in a circle that was deemed a safe-zone. The storm had raged around it, but like a lone house on a street ravaged by a tornado, it stood unaffected.

“Doubtful. If I could have found a way to lick the insides I would have.”

Mathieu puffed out a laugh. “At least you liked it.”

“It could have tasted like turpentine and I would have drunk it.” I paused. “Alright, let me stop being a miserable asshole; that was uncalled for. The beer was magnificent, it’s the person drinking it who is sour and without a heavy constitution.”

“You always beat yourself up like this? It’s a good thing this isn’t the person who showed up at my home to console me, or we’d both have jumped from the top of the blast doors.”

“Our luck, it would have been a few seconds before the moon was coming up so you would have transformed on the way down. Then I would have landed on you, thus breaking my fall. Couldn’t even get a proper suicide down.”

“I suppose not.” He stared longingly at the keg before he spoke again. “There was a runner today.” Then he stopped. There was an elephant of a pregnant pause. I’m insinuating that it was extremely long, as elephants are pregnant for like twenty-seven months or something.

“Are you really going to start a conversation like that and then not follow up?”

“I didn’t know if you’d care or not, so I was waiting on some kind of response from you before I went on. Didn’t see the need to talk just to hear myself.”

“I knew I liked you for a reason.”

“Is this the beer talking, or is it because of the beer.”

“Both. Just tell me about the runner.”

“Was a Landian.”

I scoffed. Mathieu was looking at me. “Sorry, they remind me of pickles, and their willingness to do nothing in the face of conflict irks me to no end.”

“I don’t say anything because I’m not sure if you want me to, then you say you do and then don’t let me finish without interrupting.”

“You’re more fun when you’re drunk, less uptight. Go ahead.” I motioned with my hand.

“They spotted Lycan.”

“Son of a bitch. I thought Azile knew more than she was saying. ‘One more moon, Michael that’s all I ask.’ Yeah…well…she asked because she fucking knew. What the hell was I thinking? Of course a witch was going to know. Like trying to play poker with see-through cards. Or like wondering how someone knows the words to the new song on the radio and then realizing later that they wrote the damn thing.”

“MIKE!”

“WHAT?!” I yelled back.

“You’re doing that thing where you’re not letting me finish again.”

“You weren’t done?”

He placed his palm against his forehead as he let his head dip a bit.

“Well, finish up. What the hell is keeping you?”

“I cannot for the life of me imagine why you have been alone for most of your life.”

“Now you’re just being mean.”

“The Lycan have been spotted and they are with over a thousand humans.”

“Werewolves.”

“Well, you know what I meant.”

“And they’re headed here?”

“The Landians thought so.”

“Makes sense, strike the strongest and, should we fall, the rest will be easy for the picking.”

“Can we defeat them?”

“I don’t think so. We don’t have the manpower. I think if a thousand non-armed regular people stormed this place during the day, they could breach the walls. A thousand crazed werewolves loping along the dark landscape won’t have very many problems. I think the best course of action would be to take a force of strength out and meet up with the Lycan.”

“Meet them on their territory? You could not hope to defeat them.”

“My target wouldn’t be the Lycan.”

“The people? You would kill the people? They are innocents in all this.”

“They won’t be for long.”

“You…you can’t just kill them.” He stood, shaking.

“They’re not all you, Mathieu. They’re going to turn, and they are going to tear this town down. It would be better for all involved if they were stopped before that happened.”

“Better for whom?”

“Come on, Mathieu. You of all people should know what I’m talking about. If you could spare even one of them from the guilt you feel every day, wouldn’t you?”

He was on the verge of either crying or ranting, and since I’d already ruined everything in the room, I figured he was leaning more toward the former. That was right up until he kicked the keg. The blameless barrel was launched and burst apart as it collided with the wall not more than two feet from where I sat. Bits of beer-soaked wood rained down on me, some coming to rest in my lap. I thought about sucking on a particularly succulent piece.

“I would…I would spare them.” Mathieu had seemed to release his pent-up anger with that one kick. Got to admit, I was pretty happy that hadn’t smashed into my face. I was drunk enough to know that there was a pretty good chance I wouldn’t have been quick enough to get my hands up in defense. I hadn’t even registered the fact it had hit the wall until I felt the vibration-causing impact on my back and then the subsequent splintering.

“I’m sorry.” Mathieu hung his head down. I kind of got the feeling he was talking more to the broken barrel than he was to me. “There is more.”

“I’m listening,” I answered quickly. I don’t think either of us wanted this conversation to last any longer than it already had.

“The Landians also came across an abnormally large pack of wolves. There was a stranger among them, a large dog, fawn in color.”

“Oggie?” I stood up.

“I do not believe they could get close enough to ask him his name, they just noted it was a strange sight as wolves are not known for their appreciation of their canine cousin.”