Resurrection (20 page)

The colonel’s mouth was moving but he could not understand what he was saying. Suddenly he grimaced and his face twisted and he grabbed his chest. His arm raised the pistol in his hand but never reached shooting level.

Then Peter appeared, he turned and looked at Charlie then casually walked over to the colonel who was lying helpless on the floor. He seemed afraid as Peter put a pistol to his head; blood sprayed out of the back of his skull and a look of shock came over his face before he breathed his last.

Charlie reached into his pocket and retrieved his favorite book and clasped it to his chest. Peter took it from Charlie’s hands and pulled the picture from within the pages and read the back. He stuck the paperback in his own jacket and folded the photo between the pages.

He put a finger to his lips and touched it to Charlie’s blood covered head. Peter removed Charlie’s goggles from off of his face, wiped them on his pants put them on.

“Goodbye Charlie, I’ll find what you were seeking, I promise.”

Resurrection: Revelation

Chapter 48

August 2107

Eighty–three years have passed on since the time of initial infection and the rise of the Wasters. Parts of the planet remain poisoned wastelands barren of vegetation where dust rules the day. All of man’s accomplishments of the past are mostly forgotten in a fog of death and disease. What remains of mankind is found in pockets of humanity hidden away in small areas at the tops of mountains and in heavily forested areas of the world, regions that had escaped the raging fires that came with the nuclear holocaust intended to rid the world of the Wasters.

This is a time of great violence and a return to tribalism. The poetry and prose, the great strides made in medicine, space travel all lost in the whirling winds of death and disease and devastation. Humans barely cling to life in this new world where they are no longer at the top of the food chain.

In time the Resurrection Virus burned itself out and the Wasters slowly disappeared from the earth remaining powerful only in a few isolated strongholds worldwide as the population of humans decreased so did that of the Wasters. But a new threat emerged from the ashes of the old world, the burned out cities and the manmade deserts that surrounded them became the home of a different type of menace, one that could think and act upon those thoughts. Now in the place of mindless flesh craving corpses roaming the night and the nightmares of the living this menace instead haunted both the day and the night.

A new species of man emerged from this world, a tribe of people who remained for a time in the shadows. They were born of the virus, the offspring of those who had become infected during the outbreak but had not turned.

After the day of a thousand fires as the bombing campaigns came to be known a mass exodus of human beings began. Countless millions died in the conflagration and millions more died of the aftereffects.

After the fires had died and the embers had cooled those Secondaries who had been hunted found refuge in what was left of the cities. They were able to survive the levels of radiation while those who hunted them were not. The fallout had another effect on these half human beings, the virus that they carried in their blood was passed down to later generations and that in conjunction with the radiation caused their successive generations to mutate.

The evolution these beings increased exponentially and with the birth of each new generation aided by the fallout and in conjunction with the Resurrection virus within three generations the only resemblance that the creatures had to human beings was the fact that they walked upright and had the power of speech and language.

The animals that earlier generations brought with them also carried the virus and they also mutated drastically. These transmuted humans craved what the Wasters had before them; human flesh and blood.

Chapter 49

The time of the Seer:

She spoke in parables and rhymes and riddles. The Seer was merely a vessel for revealing and did not understand the visions that came to her while in trance. It was up to the interpreter to untie the riddles and make known what the Red Angel saw.

The Angel spoke only to the scribe while she reposed behind the veil and it was the scribe who delivered the words to the interpreter. No one had seen the Angel since The Calling and she had gone behind the veil, no one that that is but her servant Maya.

Maya brought the Angel her food and drink and helped her with her baths and the Angel looked to Maya as her only friend and she spoke to her of things beyond the realm; things that Maya was not to reveal even when threatened with her own death.

To the Angel Maya was loyal to a fault and would give up her own life to save that of the Angel. Her life and the Angels were intertwined and she was now destined to take over the role of seer when it was the Angel’s end time.

The Angel was old now but as she aged her visions became more vivid and ever more intricate but once interpreted they always proved accurate and had saved the people many times. But that which the scribe brought to the interpreter today concerned her more than at any other time through the years.

This particular vision spoke of the cities, of their burned and twisted skeletons and of beast–men who inhabited the carcass of what was once the seat of civilization. Her words bewildered the interpreter.

“And I saw in the distance a rider on a white horse and he carried with him a bow and his blood was of the Resurrected Ones and his armies were of great strength and power. He rode into and out of the forbidden places and harm came not unto him.

“From out of the Wastelands came a solitary rider upon a crimson stallion. He carried with him the weapon of thunder and of lightning and was at constant odds with the beast–men who inhabit the Forbidden places.

“Then across the desert sand a massive black horse whose nostrils exhaled the invisible fires and smoke. He who sat upon the horse was a giant whose form and visage instilled fear in all that laid eyes upon him. His face was horrible to behold yet like that of a man with the body of a great beast and two great dogs with bodies like young bulls and with teeth like glistening daggers and eyes like smoldering embers ran in front leading his way and the dead ones followed behind.

The interpreter lit a lamp and sat it in the window and sat down and waited. She was not certain just what she waiting for having never had to enact this piece of the protocol before but she waited nevertheless.

Late into the night she heard a light rapping upon her door.

“Who is there?”

“The messenger, your light has been seen.”

She opened the door and the messenger entered.

“We haven’t much time,” the messenger said. “What did she tell you?”

The Interpreter handed him the reading.

“I must go for death will be upon us soon and it will not wait.” The messenger said closing the door behind him.

She heard the sounds of hoof beats under her window which soon faded into the night. She extinguished the lamp and reclined upon her bed. A full moon hung in the corner of the window above her pillow, how many more nights would there be to live she wondered; will he be able to save us?

He was awakened by the sound of approaching Riders. He sat up and peered through a crack in the wooden shutter and saw three riders approaching through the forest from the west. He picked up his cane and his small and bent and aging body rose from its resting place and he slowly walked across the room.

The hoofs beats stopped and were replaced by the sound of spurs on the wooden steps leading to the door of his cabin. He turned and faced the door and waited for the visitors to approach. There was a knock and a pause, a second knock and the door opened. The men remained outside until they were invited in by the frail, old man. They approached him and each knelt and kissed his gnarled hand.

“We have come—” one of the riders said before he was interrupted by the old man.

“I know why you have come and I have awaited your arrival. We haven’t much time so gather around. You three are our only hope of salvation, you have to find him and persuade him to help us.”

“And if he refuses what then?”

“He will not refuse, it was the Angel’s prophecy long ago, it was not understood what it meant until now. He will come, I have something for you to bring with you for when he sees it he will know who you are.”

The small man turned and unlatched a bureau door and then turned the dial on a small safe within. The lock mechanism clicked open and he pulled the heavy door aside. Carefully he pulled an object wrapped in a red sash from the safe and held it in his hands.

“Protect this for this is the only way he will know for certain that you are who you say you are. Keep it with you at all times and protect it with your life and when you find him present it to him and he will understand and will bring his armies.”

One man stepped forward and knelt and the old man placed the object in his hands and then placed his twisted hand upon his head. The man felt a slight tingle roll through his body from his head and then out through the soles of his boots.

“Now go, time is of the essence for the children of Resurrected Ones will be upon us soon. They will rain down on us from their fortresses in the Forbidden Places and they will destroy us.”

“We will succeed Elder.”

“I hope that you do for our end will mean the death of our people.”

The Elder watched as they disappeared into the distance and then quietly sat down in his chair. He reached into the safe and pulled from it a small box with the words “Kitchen Matches” written on it. He sat it on the desk in front of him and slid it open and gazed at what was inside.

It was a picture of a small boy with the name “Zeke” written in faded pencil on the back. A tear rolled down the small man’s weathered face as he closed the box and replaced it into the safe and sealed it shut once again.

Chapter 50

The three men rode out of the gates of the village and turned back when the iron doors were slammed shut behind them. They looked up at the massive walls of their home, walls hewn of massive trees and set deep into the earth. They turned ahead and looked out at the forest ahead of them and urged their steeds forward.

The men were brothers with Ethan being the oldest and Aaron and Andrew the younger twins. The three had not ventured far from the fortress only on hunting excursions to bring meat and other goods they found in the forest.

Ethan assumed his spot as the leader of the group a role he was accustomed to. His younger siblings had always looked up to him and had followed him wherever he would go since childhood.

Andrew had always been the quiet one, he was more contemplative and analytical and not prone to anger. His brother Aaron on the other hand was more volatile and apt to run into a situation explosively only later attempting to find out what caused the situation in the first place.

Now they were expected to venture far from their home out into the wasteland and beyond to the Forbidden Places where no man had gone and would not wish to go. These areas were places of danger and many myths had grown up around them to frighten and thrill young children at night while the fires burned in the hearth.

Stories were told of the dead who rose and walked the earth and of colossal pillars of fire that scorched the land and created the Forbidden Places and of whole areas which burned with an unseen fire which seared through the flesh of the living and created monsters which were born of humans but were terrible to behold and had the strength of many men.