Demonworld (20 page)

The lord of the black valley touched one mind after another. These tribes and others gathered for the ritual of human sacrifice. It would be a test to prove their worthiness to the god called Blindness. The vision showed the morning sun rising on a day of blood. They would be victims no longer. They would be tools of justice in the hands of something infinitely beautiful and endlessly hungry.

Escape from the Black Valley

On the morning of their third day in the valley, Wodi and Marlon woke at the same time, locked eyes, and rose at once. In the gentle blue light that seeped through the cracks in the hut, Wodi crept over sleeping forms until he was perched over the old hermit. Marlon joined him and raised the black spear over the old man’s head. Marlon nodded to Wodi.

I have to do this right
, he thought, exhaling slowly.

Not only was the shotgun cradled under the old man’s bony forearm, but Wodi saw a piece of twisted black metal peeking out from under a pillow. Wodi probed with his fingers, then pulled the thing free. He smiled at Marlon: The old man, in his paranoia, had slept with a revolver under his head. He held the thing up to the light for Marlon to see. The handgrip fit him perfectly, and its weight was reassuring. He passed the gun to Marlon, then looked about some more. Sure enough, two unopened plastic bags full of bullets sat hiding in the corner. Wodi stretched over the old man, paused while the old man muttered in his sleep, then slowly handed the bags over to Marlon.

Now, the shotgun. Wodi watched. He saw no easy way to do the thing, so he breathed deep and quickly lifted the old man’s bony arm and placed it to the side. The old man muttered once more, then laid still. Wodi grasped the shotgun and was awed by the thing, a complicated black metal weapon that would spit death to anyone who stood in their way. He nodded, then they quietly slipped out of the hut.

Outside, all was blue and mist with great gray trees reaching far overhead. The two laughed nervously as Marlon tore open the plastic bags.

“
This stuff’s never been used!” Marlon exclaimed. “How long you think that old fart’s been sitting on this stuff?”

“
It probably belonged to the people he came here with, way back in the day,” said Wodi, examining the heavy shotgun. “I wonder if…” He stopped. Inlaid in the black metal was a small, silver insignia of a gear. “Marlon, where have I seen this before?”

Marlon studied the thing, then said, “It’s from some wasteland cult. I think they’re called Smiths. They worship machines and make guns and stuff like that.”

“
Is that a fact?” said Wodi, searching his memory but finding nothing.

Marlon took the shotgun from him and said, “Double barrel. Too bad it’s not a pump-action from Haven! Looks like the shells are all buckshot, so they’ll spread out. Pretty good for distance, but
murder
up close.” He popped the gun open, then said, “Dirty as can be! Was he using this thing to dig holes with?”

“
Will it still work?”

“
Yeah,” said Marlon, blowing into the end. “But no pawn shop in Haven would take this old girl, that’s for sure.” He studied the revolver in his other hand, then said, “This is a snub nosed little guy. Not sure of the caliber, we don’t use this type in Haven. A good up-close gun. Can’t fit more than six bullets, but that’s the problem with revolvers. Not that I would trust any automatics outside of Haven, you know? They’re too tricky to make.”

Marlon showed Wodi how the guns were loaded. Soon Iduna came to them bearing two stained cloth bags.

“
What are you
boys
doing?” she said, staring at the guns.

“
We decided to pack some heat for the rest of the trip,” said Marlon. “Is that all right with you?”

“
You’re just going to end up shooting yourselves,” she said.

“
Really? Do the bullets on these things not come out the front, or what?”

“
What’ve you got there?” said Wodi.

“
I took some of the pig meat,” she said. “He had a lot of it, and I thought it might go bad before he ate it all, so... I...”

“
Good idea. We’ll need it if we want to get through the wasteland.”

Next came Peter, hobbling and scowling. He carried several sticks and a large bundle of greasy clothes.

“
You doin the old man’s laundry?” said Marlon. He scanned the woods for demonic hordes, one gun in each hand. There was no doubt in his mind how intimidating he appeared.

Peter’s eyes locked onto the guns and he answered the question as if reading from memorized notes. “We can tie these rags to the sticks and make torches, for the mine. I’ve got a flint and some tinder, too. Now, son, how’d you come by those firearms?”

Marlon pretend-fired the revolver five times into an invisible demon, then aimed the gun at the ground and executed the monster with his final shot. “Oh, it’s no big deal,” he said. “That old man was sittin’ on ’em. Figured I’d borrow ’em.”

“
Best you hand them over, son,” said Peter.

“
To you?”

Peter nodded.

“
Well, the shotgun is definitely mine. That’s not even up for debate. And I was going to give the revolver to Wodi.”

“
Ah, boy,” said Peter, shaking his head slowly. “You forget, I used to carry the shield and wave the banner, as they say. We’re a part of the same brotherhood - it’s only right that we keep the arms to ourselves. We’ve had the training. The boy hasn’t. It would be better for the group as a whole.”

Marlon had no quick reply. Peter felt an opening and said, “Remember: ‘Fraternity before mischief!’ ‘Honor above sleep!’ ‘Invigoration through discipline!’ Remember?”

Marlon said, slowly, “Yeah but, you know, he’s proven himself, hasn’t he? If he can do what he’s done with a rusty piece of metal, then…”

“
You’ve forgotten, then! Forgotten your oath, now, have you? Is that it, son? How could you forget… ‘Will no one help the widow’s great-uncle?’ It’s the second line to the chorus of “Fraternite, Fraternite”, the musical version of the oath of every Guardian of –”

“
Alright, alright!” said Marlon. “God’s death, man!” He tossed the loaded revolver at Peter, then threw the bag of bullets at his feet. “If you remember all that crap, then you better remember how to shoot, too. Sorry, Wodi.”

“
That’s fine,” said Wodi, hiding his disappointment. “I already stole it once. I can do it again!”

Marlon laughed, then said, “I only gave it to Peter so the demons would at least have a chance against us. Here, Wodi – you can have this.” Marlon handed Wodi the black spear, then said, “That is, unless anyone wants to argue about that, too.”

“
I don’t want it,” said Iduna. “I’ll just keep… the doctor’s spear.”

Wodi handled the heavy spear. With it, and the sword of the dogman pup sheathed on his back, he felt ready for anything.

The door of the hut banged open and shut, and Jules walked out with short steps.

“
Careful!” said Marlon. “You’ll wake the old man!”

“
All the old men are awake,” said Jules.

“
All of ‘em?” said Wodi.

“
Yes sir.”

“
He didn’t say anything?” said Marlon. “About his guns?”

“
No. We talked a little, ate a biscuit. He says the mines are only a little piece away, that way.”

“
Uh, did he say anything about us stealing his meat and clothes?”

“
No,” said Jules. “He’s old, crazy. He’ll notice his stuff gone, later, and not all at once, and he’ll assume that he lost his things one at a time, and not all together. That’s the way we are.”

“
Is that true?” said Wodi.

“
For a lot of us, yes.”

* * *

The five sat in the middle of the clearing and tied the old man’s rags to the stout sticks. Iduna had her pants rolled up and suddenly noticed her legs. They were covered in black nubs. She touched her legs and felt the prickly hairs.

“
I need a razor,” she said.

“
I think we already robbed that old man blind,” said Marlon. “You could use Wodi’s rusty old sword.”

Peter huffed loudly, then said, “Pure vanity!”

Iduna glared at him.

“
As for me,” said Peter, “I wouldn’t let my wife lay hands on a razor. Of that, you can be sure! Why, I find a little natural hair does wonders for a woman’s appearance. What do you boys think?”

Iduna felt her stomach do a backflip. She rolled her pant legs down.

“
It’s getting on midday of the third day we’ve been here,” said Marlon. “You can see the mountains over the treetops. We’ve made pretty good time. If it’s true that those mines go all the way through those mountains, and if we get lucky and don’t get lost and starve to death, and if we manage to find water and figure out a way to carry water with us, and if we don’t manage to get eaten by something while we’re in those mines, then we should reach the wasteland soon. Things’ll be different out in the world. I’m not even sure how we’re going to cross all that distance.” He thought for a moment, then said, “We might meet other people. Primitives, you know, on the far side of the mountains.”

“
That would be interesting,” said Iduna.

“
Interesting, ha! Sure. I’m just glad I’m packin’ heat.”

While Wodi tied off another torch, he studied the sharp blue sky over the circle of tall treetops. He felt as if he was struck by the beauty of the valley for the very first time. “You know,” he said, “we’re lucky, in a way.”

“
What!” said Peter. “Don’t tell me you’re losing it, son.”

“
I’m not saying it’s been enjoyable. But we’ve been given a very special opportunity… a very special insight into the world. The world beyond the veil of what we’ve been taught.”

“
How you figure?” said Jules.

“
Nobody talks about demons,” said Wodi. “All my life, it was like pulling teeth to get anything out of anyone. That includes teachers, too. And when anyone did talk, it was to say that our only hope of survival was to hide in Haven. To bide our time and wait for the rest of the world to slowly die off. But look at us! There were seven of us armed with
sticks
. Only two of us have fallen. Now, imagine how we would have done if there had been more of us, and we’d been armed with the best guns and the best armor that Haven could produce.”

Wodi was still entranced by the piercing blue sky as he continued. “And imagine if we had artillery and air support. Imagine if we could go into those communities that hide from demons, or worship them, or sacrifice to them, and send them our best teachers. And we wouldn’t just be converting the world, turning others into us… we could even learn from these people! Imagine what might happen to our own culture if we brought this world together and learned how to not live in fear! Don’t you think it’s strange that the most powerful civilization in the world lives in fear of the outside world?”

Wodi thought for a moment, then added, “Maybe we could convince our leaders that that is Haven’s destiny. And if we did, then maybe in a few generations, this world –”

“
Shhh!” said Marlon. “Quiet! Listen!”

They heard nothing. Slowly the realization dawned that the entire forest had become utterly silent, as if thousands of scampering, screeching, living things now hid deep, deep down, waiting for some great horror to pass over and claim another.

“
Saul?” Wodi said quietly.

Marlon covered the boy’s mouth.

There was a humming drone, a low vibration almost below the level of awareness. The hum grew deeper, then individual cries rose from the abyss.

“
Run,” said Marlon, rising. “Run! Don’t stop ’til we reach-”

His words were drowned out by the approaching wave of sound, the endless aural hurricane of a multitude of stampeding monsters charging through the forest. The five abandoned the hut and ran to the north, tearing through vine and over streams, the ground shaking beneath them. The cry behind them built into a swirling mass of solid thunder that battered at the ears and threatened to tear down their sanity. Iduna chanced a look behind and saw a seething white mass of ghouls pouring forth behind them, then she saw them dashing along on either side, threatening to drown them in putrid flesh and rotting fang.