APOCALYCIOUS: Satire of the Dead (36 page)

             
The scientist pointed behind him and the General turned to see that a lone figure stood behind the glass. Where the saucer had been sitting was now a hazy landscape.  A long robe of black with red covered the figure from head to feet leaving no flesh exposed. The head was bent forward so that no light touched the features hidden within the shadows of the hood.

             
The general unholstered his sidearm and flipped the safety off. He always kept it chambered. “Just what the fuck is that?” he demanded of Steinman

             
“I believe we have opened the wormhole, sir,” he replied dabbing sweat from his high forehead with a white handkerchief.  Both Walters and Steinman watched as the image grew less hazy; the fog swirled and finally cleared and they could see a hillside, dark and charred behind the figure. The sky was heavy with gray clouds. Lightning flashed and they could make out what appeared to be a stone monolith in the distance. Walters jerked his arms out in front of him and leveled the Beretta 9mm at the lone figure as it strode closer to the glass. Out of his periphery he saw the other scientists easing their chairs back from their computers and Steinman to his right ease slowly behind him. “That glass is bulletproof, Sir, it is also designed to withstand extreme heat, cold and various types of explosions.”

             
Walters spoke over his shoulder. “How come I can’t see the UFO anymore?”

             
The scientist shrugged. “My guess is that it is sitting behind the wormhole. It’s still there, but the wormhole is between us and we are seeing the other side of whatever dimension that is.”

             
“So that dude’s an alien?”

             
Steinman gave another shoulder shrug. “It is possible.”

             
As they watched, the lone figure threw his cloak back revealing the face of a corpse, discolored like a bruise with all its hues and rotting, sloughing like a serpent’s. In some places, bone shone through open wounds in the skin. Flesh covered only one eye that peered at them like a glint of steel in the harsh fluorescent lighting, the other socket was filled by what appeared to be a glowing, red, putrefied eye. The figure was huge in comparison to Walters and the other men, and the general noted that the man must be at least eight feet tall.

             
“Great, another zombie,” said the general in disgust. As he said these words the zombie snapped his head from scanning the lab and stared directly at the two. The living dead giant raised one arm, his fist stripped of most of its soft tissue, but was still adorned with a large ring with a sparkling ruby, and the gem glistened in the light like a kaleidoscope. Suddenly his fingers splayed apart and the glass partition melted to the floor in a pool that re-hardened instantly.  “Bow before your King!” it roared.

             
“Fuck that,” said Walters in a whisper and tapped two well-placed rounds into the Lich Baliel, of Ba'al’s face. The shots echoed through the small enclosure, but it appeared that the rounds had no effect on the Lich, or did they seem to touch their target. Walters could see two small mushroomed metal objects at the Lich’s feet.

“BOW!”
Baliel, of Ba'al roared again.

             
Steinman dropped to his knees instantly while Walters grabbed a handset from the desk and screamed, “Where the fuck is my security team, asshole?”

From the speaker in his ear he could hear someone say “General…” then screaming and numerous gunshots. General Walters heard the Lich laugh as he dropped the phone and ran to the next computer terminal to key in the code for the closed-circuit cameras. He typed in the code for the command center. The monitor showed carnage in black and white as a flood of the dead over-ran the security team, both officers and staff. He heard
Baliel, of Ba'al laugh again, as if he knew already what had happened. The general looked down at one of the scientist’s hiding beneath the desk.

“Nice job, dickhead,” Walters spat and leveled the 9mm at the man’s head and turned the scientist’s massive brain into the world’s most gruesome canoe. The Lich watched with malign glee as the general systematically chased the other non-combatants around the lab, shooting the rest of the science department. As he finished off the last one he turned back to the Lich and allowed the empty pistol to fall from his hand as he dropped to his knees. As a survivor, he knew when to cut his losses. Thomas Walters bowed his head, but kept his eyes raised upon the giant as the Lich
Baliel, of Ba'al strode toward him with a disjointed limp, a stench of death encompassing him. Walters noticed that Lich was missing his left leg from the knee down and had some sort of iron prosthetic in its place. The general felt his gorge rising when the stink of death reached his nostrils, but forced himself to swallow it back down, and he didn’t think the bacon and hash browns  tasted nearly as good as they had earlier this morning. “I’ll do whatever you want, just, please, don’t kill me,” Walters begged.             

“Oh, I know you will,” agreed the
Lich then he laid a hand on the top of Walters’ head and listened in blatant smugness to the soothing chords of the general’s screams.

             
The general felt his flesh burning, he could smell it as it melted from his face, and he could taste it as his tongue and soft palate broiled inside his mouth. He was dimly aware that the Lich still rested his skeletal hand upon his head. He smelled the acrid pungency as his hair burned to stubble and its follicles pooled in their pores, before evaporating in the intense heat. Walters kept screaming until he found that his screams turned to clicks as his larynx melted and ran down his esophagus, and boiled in its acidic bath. Then, as suddenly as it began, the pain ceased. Walters raised his hands to his face and discovered that they were bare bones burned brown. He croaked, “What have you done to me?” His voice sounded like dry leaves dancing on cemetery stones.

             
The Lich laughed a child-like titter that belied his booming baritone voice. “Only Yah can create from nothing. I can only create by destroying.”

             
The Lich continued, “When we go through the portal you will be made complete, and then you will help me destroy Yah’s rarest and most mysterious creations.

             
                             
Chapter 40 - Death Has No Table Manners

Mine Hills
, West Virginia 

47 and 48 had their own separate quarters for the first time in months and were grateful to not be sharing their space with a squad-bay full of other, mangy and hostile men. Although they didn’t have much in the way personal possessions, Mia made it a point to assure the two new comers that they would be taken into Parkersburg to get them geared up. The great table in the dining room was set for six to accommodate everyone.  Mick had instantly felt at ease around Bodie, but his friend Daniel proved to have no social skills whatsoever. He was, however, aware that his own social skills lacked that certain panache, so he was careful not to judge too quickly.

Mick kept looking at Mia, but she was making sure that she didn’t give him much, if any attention. He could tell by the subtle way she held her jaw that she was still pretty well ticked-off at him. Regeliel leaned toward him in a conspiratorial manner. “She will come around Sir Mick, she just needs some time; after all, she has always been at your side.”

Mick nodded. “Thanks, Reg. So what do you think of these two?” Mick asked with an appraising glance at Daniel and Bodie.

             
“I think they did well earlier. They did not run away from the fight and made some impressive shots.”

             
“What about him?” Mick nodded toward Daniel, who was not bothering with chit chat as he forked chunks of venison into his mouth. 

             
“Give him time. He seems loyal to his friend and I believe that is a good indication of his character.”

             
“Yeah, I suppose.” Mick glanced back at Mia. He saw her looking at him from the corner of her eye as she hastily asked Bodie another question. “Tell us about your escape, it sounds exciting.”

             
Bodie was a born story teller and Mick was sure that there were a few exaggerated facts contained within, but the gist of it sounded legit. Every once in a while Daniel would stop shoveling food into his maw and speak with a mouthful of food and contradict his friend to set the facts straight. “That isn’t the way it happened,” Daniel would say or “Dude…come on.”

             
By the time Bodie had told them the entire story Mick had gained a good insight to the two of them. Daniel may have no tact, but the man was completely incapable of telling a lie. He was like Bodie’s personal lie detector. He also held no ill will toward Bodie for embellishing the story; these exaggerations were mere enhancements to the story and made no liar of him for it. Bodies’ natural charisma had even lightened Mia’s mood, but Mick noticed that Nan seemed distracted.

             
The speaker from the communication room sent Nan sprinting for it. It was Death Wagon’s voice on the other end. “Where are you Death?” she blurted out. “I’ve been worried sick.”

             
“Open the door Nan, before I’m zombie-fied,” he said in his low bass voice, but there was no trembling in his voice that would lead anyone to believe that he was that worried. She glanced at the monitor covering the garage and saw his armored hearse idling. “Death Wagon’s here!” she virtually screamed to the others.

Mick shook his head with a slight smile as Regeliel clapped him on the back good naturedly. “At last I get to meet the famed Harbinger,” he said laughing.

              “Who the hell is
Death Wagon
?” asked Daniel incredulously, his mouth stuffed with deer meat as he watched Nan run toward the main entrance.

             
“Nan do you have your sidearm?” piped in Mia. She watched as Nan opened her jacket revealing her .40 Smith and Wesson. “OK then, let him in. I’ll set an extra place.”

             
“Seven of us… seven is a good number, my friend,” Regeliel said stroking his red beard with one oven-mit sized hand.

              The five of them waited several minutes for Death Wagon and Nan to enter the dining room. Mick scooted his chair back and began to stand “I’ll go see what’s taking them,” he said wiping his mouth with a napkin.

             
“Mickey…let them be. They haven’t seen each other for a while.” Mia looked up at him, her expression had softened. Her almond eyes spoke louder than her tone. Mick sat back down “OK, Mia,” he acquiesced.

             
“Maybe you could help me in the kitchen for a minute,” she suggested.

             
Mick gave a half smile. He figured that he was going to hear about this morning, but he also figured that he might as well get this over with so she could get back to loving him again. They stood up in unison and walked side by side to the kitchen.

             
Mia turned to Mick, her eyes were swimming. He reached out to her, but she slinked back from his touch. “Don’t” she said. He relented and stood there awkwardly as she regained her composure. “I know that you promised your father that you would protect Nan and I…” her voice choked with emotion for a second, but she found her strength quickly this time. “ But he gave me the same order and you had better not forget that.” She raised her head from looking at the floor and looked directly into Mick’s eyes so that he saw the woman he loved, both strong and secure, an equal to himself, if not better. “I know that I have to look after Nan, and I will, but don’t you ever treat me like I am a little girl again. Not in front of my sister or Regeliel or even when we are alone.”

Mick felt helpless and started to speak but she raised a hand to silence him. “I’m not finished. Like it or not I am your wife, not your girlfriend and from here on out we stand shoulder to shoulder. I will not stand in your shadow and assume the role of side-kick. The fact is that if something had happened to you and Regeliel today, it could very well have ended up being just
Nan and me. If that were to happen I wouldn’t want to continue to hide out in this cave and pray to your God that we could wait it out. We sisters would go out and fight and try to regroup with other survivors and try to make a better place for everyone, not just ourselves,” she admonished, finally running out of breath and waited for his response.

             
“You’re right Mia. You’re right,” he said looking at the tips of his worn steel toe boots. “I’m sorry that I made you feel like this. I had no right. But you are wrong on one point,” he raised his eyes to hers.

             
“And what is that?” she asked defiantly as she tapped the toe of one of her boots.

             
“He wasn’t just my father, he was yours too. He loved you girls even more than he loved me. You two were all that remained of his best friend, a friend that had once saved his life. The rest of what you said…well I can’t argue that. I don’t like holing up in this dungeon either. I miss the sunshine and the fresh air; I want us to be able to walk outside unafraid too; and with the help of our new friends we can try to take back what we’ve lost.”