This is my upcoming release.

I had a list of ideas rolling in my head at the beginning of this series. I wrote these five books with this list in mind.

1. What if since creation the universe had been growing and not simply expanding? (Ie. new stars, planets, etc.)

2. What if religion was banned universally?

3. What if AI completely replaces human workers in nearly every industry?

4. How do you explain the apparently full black hole recently discovered that is spitting back out the planets and stars it last consumed? Are they full?

5. Creatures! Creatures! Creatures!

6. Life After Earth

7. Video Game Style (Sort of. If I made a video game this would be it.)

8. I wanted to write an adventure not reliant on the sexy factor. I wanted something everyone can read. Not all my fiction is family friendly.

9. I wanted a full-on Good versus Evil epic.

10. I wanted to write a far into the future story. (Everlong takes place hundreds or possibly even thousands of eons in the future. It is unknown even to the ancients of Everlong lore.

11. I wanted my characters to have abilities without having magic. Science is the magic in the universe of Everlong.

12. I wanted to tell my multiverse explanation. When I learned of the upchucking black hole I knew just how to write Books I to V of Everlong.

I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing them.

Book I will be available by the end of May. I wrote all five at once. My first novel took ten years from start to finish because of life and injuries. I used to work my full week and come home and literally shake I was in so much pain. It made it hard to function much less write.

I did all the things I was told when writing my first full novel and it nearly drove me nuts. I never made an outline for a sculpture nor did I ever make one for a painting. I just grabbed the clay or paintbrush and I just started creating.

I applied this tactic to writing. I grabbed a pen and some old notebooks and I started writing. I had an inspiration of an old man in an alien wagon train sleeping as it roamed a desert wasteland with a snail the size of a three story building pulling it. I let this roll around in my melon for six months. Then I started writing.

I wrote five hand written manuscripts in six months that spanned 3,030 pages. I experienced no writers block and it was oddly freeing. I did not go back and read them until the fifth was complete. I am very happy with the reality I created.

Thank you for reading. -JM Vogel

…Ten Years Later.

Well, sorry for such a long absence. Shortly after my last post in 2014 I began preparing for a big move to the Midwest from the East Coast. I was held up by my brother who nearly left us due to a terrible car crash. I finally, after working 12 hours shifts for longer than I care to remember, moved in October of 2016. It took a long time but I got my old job back. I was hoping with the insurance I got I could get my back sorted out. I worked until September of 2017. I had an editor for Eulogy. We had started working out a schedule and all was well…

A Few Moments Later…

I bent to pick up a piece of paper and that was my “last straw” moment. I wasn’t able to walk for weeks after. I zeroed myself out, quite literally. I couldn’t work and I hadn’t recovered from the move yet. I had six months left on my lease and monthly bills I couldn’t pay. I made a vain attempt to return to work. I pleaded with my doctor. “Doc cheeseburgers cost money.” He agreed, cheeseburgers do indeed cost money. I forced myself through the week. My coworkers knew I wasn’t going to make it to week two. There is no light duty in a foundry. They tried to make it work but by the end of the week I was struggling to walk.

This Is Where The Awful Stops…

In 2021 I had my spine rebuilt. I have some after market parts in my spine and I am very grateful. I can walk better now than I have in many years. It is awesome. I am unable to work so now I write. Don’t hit me. I know writing is work but is it? Really? I love it too much to call it work.

Missed using this platform. I can’t wait to catch up on everyone’s happenings. -JM

Aberration (Eulogy Book II)

Hello Readers,

This is the start of the second book in my Eulogy series. I plan to do only three but it may end up being only two. We will see how far my characters are willing to go. I had always intended three but to be honest it is more up to Alex than me. If you read Eulogy then you know Alex has been on a journey of pain, love, loss, and is battling to keep his sanity in check. In Aberration (a working title) He releases the mad man inside. He nurtures his rage and anger and sets out on a path of wanton destruction with only one thing on his mind. Killing. All critiques, thoughts, heckles, and the like are welcome. Thanks for reading -JM

Aberration

1

He woke covered in blood, some old and some fresh from the previous night’s hunt. He had an acidic taste on his swollen tongue. His fingers were numb from the sub-freezing temperatures. Undaunted by the cold the fire still raged in his cracked psyche. He crawled from the wreckage of a half destroyed camper he had made his bed the previous night. He could smell the bodies of the innocent travelers who had been mercilessly killed only a few days before. He had grown accustomed to this smell. Even frozen, the dead still had a noticeable stench. This odor no longer sickened him.

He yawned and stretched surveying the destruction around him.  It was the third group he had discovered since he began hunting them just before winter set in. He had caught a few he believed to be scouts or messengers but they were useless to him. They couldn’t speak English so he had dispatched them with little courtesy and no regrets.

He was a killer. He could do it with no remorse and sleep like a baby the very same night. The days without kills were the ones he found it most difficult to sleep and most of his days were like this. He began carving his kills into the flesh of his left forearm and was pleased to see that it was filling in quite rapidly. There had been fifteen in the first group nine in the second and to his pleasure twenty-three in this last group.

These were trained soldiers he was killing. He sometimes hoped he would die when he went after them then anger would chase away his weakness and he would openly admonish himself. “They all must die, you swore it!” After this thought he would trek on confident in knowing his was a just mission and he would see it through.  He often found himself chuckling at the idea that he, a simple country boy was capable of taking out an entire platoon of trained and heavily armed fighters.

He was aware that he had several key advantages. His first and greatest advantage was the element of surprise. He could see the shock and awe on the faces of these sun hardened men. The look of disbelief that they the holy ones could be thwarted by a single infidel. He gloated and silently cheered himself as he crept across the countryside.

The second advantage he had was that these men had limited communications abilities and were forced to use shortwave radios. He could not understand their language but he learned to track the convoys based on the terrain and signal strength. He tracked one group of these terrorist for two weeks before he caught up.

The third and most important advantage Alex had was the cold. No amount of training could prepare you for a night of negative fifteen degree weather.  He had grown accustomed to it and thrived in it. He traveled lightly and could cover as much ground on foot as his quarry. Despite being well supplied and in large off road vehicles they had no chance of out pacing the ruthless predator that stalked them.

Alex traveled at night to keep his body temperature up. He could easily track the lumbering machines. The moon illuminated the snow so much it was as if the ground were glowing. He would sleep only when his body found it necessary. He was in the best physical condition of his life. He hadn’t eaten or drank anything unhealthy in months and the endless hike was turning what remaining fat stores he had from his lazy days on the couch. “Waiting to die,” into pure muscle.

He had never been characterized as small by any means. It had been his meek personality which made him seem smaller somehow. This was a new world and no one would ever think of this burgeoning titan as meek again. When he stopped to eat he obeyed all the rules he and his former traveling companions had put into effect. He sterilized everything before handling. The only difference now was his diet which consisted of mostly protein shakes, vitamins, and occasionally canned soups when he stumbled upon them.

When his mission began he was not in bad shape at 6’3 270 lbs. After months of hard traveling the former was a complete contrast to the chiseled 225 lbs. he now carried. He did not seem to realize the changes in his appearance. He rarely saw himself, lately the mirrors in the stalled cars he passed were caked with layer upon layer of ice and snow.

He did notice a change in his strength. His mind wandered as he trudged through the waist deep snow. “You almost got me didn’t you?” He asked aloud to the driving snow. He was unsure as to where he was, he sometimes just walked when he wasn’t stalking prey and he had new information to digest.

He remembered the night before. He crept up on the encampment during a complete white out. He almost felt sorry for the men he was about to kill. He had been watching them for days just staying out of sight. Being alone he could hide just about anywhere and not be noticed. Any tracks he left were quickly swallowed by the blowing winds and snow which he had been traversing for what seemed like an eternity.

He had been waiting for a night like tonight. The poor desert dwellers were trying in vain to stay warm. He chuckled as they tried to light a fire repeatedly but the frozen wood and wind had made it nearly impossible. He watched as they formed a circle with their vehicles trying to block the wind and snow. With this and a gallon or two of diesel fuel they were successful.  This was the last thing Alex had been waiting for.

Alex knew that seeing him dressed all in white in a blizzard with fire blind eyes would be near impossible. He was now virtually invisible. Alex treated these usurpers as vermin, nothing more than an infestation that needed eradicating. He treated them just as he and his kind had been treated. He had no mercy and went about his work as anyone would who enjoyed their business.

Alex carried few weapons these days, he found at the first Army reserve station he came to that it had been emptied of weapons. It was soon after he tracked down the first smaller platoon and discovered they were the weapons thieves. He got lucky and quite by accident discovered the offices of a blasting company. He used the munitions he found to dispose of the first group of interlopers. Periodically as he travelled he would find a phone book and seek companies such as these and help himself to their blasting supplies.

He smiled as he remembered crawling in a wide arc around the trucks creeping up every so often to carefully place more charges. The fools weren’t even posting a guard. Well why would they? He thought. They couldn’t know I would be out here. His grin widened as he remembered sending the charge through the wires.

The roar of the detonation was deafening. The blast created a reverse snow globe effect. There was a huge ball of fire and flying debris. He wished he would have had the foresight to have brought a camera. The devastation in that moment was a thing of beauty. The illusion was short-lived and quickly dispelled as the debris began raining down around him along with miscellaneous charred limbs. He ducked behind a large oak hoping he would not fall victim to his own handy work.

He stood cautiously with pistol in hand and surveyed the damages. Everything was destroyed. All eight of the charges intended for leveling old buildings had blown. He was getting better with this type of work. On the first two attacks not all had detonated.

It was then he saw movement just to the left of the biggest crater. He had missed one. He was on him in a flash before the stunned man could react. He appeared shaken but not seriously injured. When Alex pinned the much smaller man to the icy ground he began to yell in his native tongue. Alex pressed the muzzle of his 9mm into the soft exposed flesh of the man’s throat. There was already a round chambered as Alex had grown accustomed to doing. He was always prepared.

The man’s yells ceased and he closed his eyes seemingly preparing for death.

“English?” Asked Alex expecting to receive no reply or possibly more of the incoherent language his victims spoke.

Very clearly but terribly shaken, the man answered, “Yes, I speak it well.”

Alex was stunned. He had spoken to no other English speaking person since the day he buried his wife. This thought caused a lump in his throat and he quickly forced the memory away. Without warning he hit the man hard in the head with the grip of his gun rendering him unconscious.  He then tied the man to a tree and waited for him to wake.

Alex was deep in thought when he was drug from his reverie “please, I mean you no harm. I am a scholar. I was a doctor before all this. I had no choice. I had to work with these zealots to ensure the safety of my family.” The man’s plea angered Alex. Had this man traded Alex’s friends and family for his own? Yes, Alex thought. He had.

“Where were you going? What was your mission?” Alex was stern and the man knew this was his last day on earth. This man had struck without warning in the harshest weather he had ever known against twenty three heavily armed men alone. Yes he would soon be dead and he would tell this man whatever he wanted to know.

“I will tell you what you need to know. What was done by our leaders was unconscionable. I know I will die here today and you are right in doing so. If by chance you release me and I survive and rejoin my superiors I will, however unwillingly, be working against you again. I sir am, as I said a man of science. I hold a doctorate in Mechanical Engineering from MIT. I will die with dignity. I will for my part do what is right. In an attempt to save myself and my family I have gone against all that I know is right and true.” He was silent.

Alex felt the man’s confession was honest but was still wary just the same. He spoke only one word. “Continue.”

“You know the plague had not been expected to spread so far or so fast. Our people were decimated just like everyone else. It came quickly but what was not known to anyone was that our leaders had known. Only the highest up knew what would happen. It was on a need to know basis. They called it the second flood. They were willing to sacrifice our own people in order to rid the world of the non-believers. In the story of the flood, God saved Noah and his family to start over. This is not a bible story sir; they saved only people with skills, allegiances, and money.

They began moving scientists like me, soldiers, various tradesmen, and others with useful skills to isolated encampments which were under quarantine. They used extreme caution and began the quarantines weeks before the virus was to be released. The story that was given about these quarantines was fictitious but who is going to question such a thing?

When the news reports began to trickle in, it was obvious as to what was going on. We had been spared when the rest of the world had been left to rot. There was a great deal of dissension amongst us and there were a few executions of the loudest of the naysayers. This quickly quelled any further argument. We were frightened. We all had family and friends who were left behind.  Darkness fell over our camp.

They waited until the reports stopped and they pooled our resources. They began trucking us slowly cross country carefully avoiding all populated areas and preparing us for our journey here. Our families are to be sent to us after we have settled and secured several strategic areas. These men you killed were escorting me to various power plants and strategic sites and my job is to disable them and to gain as much Intel as possible on other possible targets.

There are at least 100 different groups here now ranging in size from five to fifty men strong. They are all on different missions of this sort. We came by ships and were ferried on land by helicopter. Our ultimate mission is to colonize and…” He paused for the first time since he’d began speaking, knowing his next words would probably enrage this silent blue eyed giant whose gaze had not yet faltered from his face as he spoke. He gained his composure and finished despite the weight of his words, “and to exterminate any and all remaining indigenous peoples.”

Alex’s expression did not change with this revelation. Alex had already guessed this from the bodies he had found and from the carnage he had discovered in his own home months earlier. Yes they were here and they intended to stay.

The man waited for Alex to reply wondering how painful his death would be. He deserved it after all. His people, the ones he swore allegiance to had killed nearly the entire population of the world. They all deserved a tortuous death. He silently prayed.

“Where are the others?” He was angry, but he was always angry. This man’s story had made him no more or less so. It was an even burn Alex felt, nothing seemed to fade it. He was consumed with his obsession. He just wanted to know in which direction his next victims awaited.

He had expected this question and answered with no hesitation. “I know there is another group twenty miles north of here. Their mission is not known to me. We passed briefly a few weeks ago and we camped together for a night. As far as the others, all I can say is that we are here to take control of the power and most important resources or to destroy what we can’t control. We are seeking power plants, gas companies, water treatment facilities, and things of that nature. It is going to be a long effort. We are the advance groups. There will be others, many others. The ships have returned and are readying the next shipments.

Nearly half a million useful and trained people are coming. You may be in the right my friend, but you are terribly outnumbered.” As he finished Alex searched his face for a hint of satisfaction in this last damning statement but there was none. All that the man’s face held was remorse and guilt. Alex almost felt sorry for him, almost.

Alex turned and dug into his duffle bag. The man knew his time was short so he prayed. Alex could hear him under his breath and gave him ample time to finish. Alex mused momentarily that he would probably enjoy talking to this man under any other circumstances. He was educated and spoke with a refined air. Even tied to a tree he managed to hold himself together with a dignified presence.

Alex turned slowly and the man held his breath expecting to be torn to shreds in a hail of gunfire but it was not what greeted him. Alex had a small crystal decanter the man could see he had wrapped with care. He held two crystal snifters into each he poured two stiff Brandies. It was aged and very expensive. Alex kept it stocked to knock the chill out on the worst nights. Alex drank his quickly and despite his faith’s intolerance for alcohol the man did not object when the second snifter was put to his lips. He drank as quickly as Alex poured it into his mouth. His last thought was how warm and delicious this drink was.

Alex had laced the man’s glass with cyanide. “Thank you.” Alex said to the slumped corpse which had been so informative only moments earlier. He rose, dropped the glasses to the ground, he then took a long pull from the decanter. He returned the 400 dollar piece of fine crystal to its wrappings and safely tucked it away. Alex hoisted his pack and headed north.

The Daily Prompt

The Wrong Man

“The first thing I want you to know about me is that I am honest. I never tell lies.” Tell me where it is and this will all be over.” His voice was calm and cool as he spoke.
The bound man just sat there blinking unsure of where he was or what was going on. He saw a bright flash of light as his captor struck him hard across the face. He let out a yelp but it was muffled by the gag in his mouth.
“When I remove that gag all I want to hear is the location, one word, maybe two. If you say anything but what I want to know then things are going to get bad for you very quickly.” He glared at his captive appearing ready to strike at any moment.
The man in the chair was no one special. He ran a used book store. He had no enemies as far as he knew. As he sat there immobile and completely at the mercy of this apparently deranged man he struggled to grasp what was going on. He felt as if he’d been drugged. No matter how hard he tried to shake it off the fog in his mind would not lift. John kept asking himself silently, “what have I done to earn such punishment?”
Garner is what they called him. Even those who knew him best didn’t know his given name. It was better that way. His assumed identity kept those he had once been close to safe. He had devoted his life to the job and to be associated with a man who doesn’t exist is a good way to find yourself nonexistent as well. He removed John’s gag but John sat there stupidly shaking his head in silence for fear of another onslaught.
“You will tell me what it is I want to know. Where is the book? “Garner turned around and John could hear a zipper opening. “This is going to hurt real bad you know?” Garner asked but his voice never changed pitch or tone.
Before John could blink Garner had turned and for a split second John thought it was all over he had a gun, but no sooner than he realized it was nothing more than a squirt gun Garner squeezed the trigger. Had anyone been near enough to hear, they would have surely sworn someone was being torn apart limb from limb very slowly. John’s screams, as deafening and blood chilling as they were, did not possess the power to change the expression on Garner’s face even in the slightest.
Garner didn’t enjoy this type of work but it didn’t bother him either. He was indifferent. He would do what it took to succeed in his mission each and every time. If someone needed to be hurt, he hurt them. If someone needed to be killed then he would kill them. He had no personal stake in his work. It was business and he treated it as such.
The squirt gun contained acid, not an extremely powerful one. On the skin it would cause burns but to the eye. It was an excruciating, yet effective negotiation tactic. After about three minutes of John’s ear splitting screams Garner turned and produced a spray bottle. He did not explain to John what was in this bottle but no sooner than he squirted it into John’s eyes the burning stopped and with it John’s screams.
“I can make this stop. I can make it all go away. Tell me what I want to know and I’ll walk out that door and I’ll never darken your doorstep again. I swear it, but I’m not leaving until I have that book.” John knew this man was a killer but even after such pain John did not know what he was after.
“Please,” John begged. “I swear to you I don’t know what you are after. I run a bookstore. There are thousands of them there. What book do you want?”
Garner surveyed his face for any sign he was lying. There was none, but he had to be sure. “That hurt did it not?” Garner asked menacingly.
“Oh God yes please don’t, no more. I’ll tell you anything but I swear to you I don’t know of anything special enough to warrant this.” John’s eyes poured tears from the burn as well as this sudden collision with his own mortality.
Garner turned once again to his bag. He half turned and John could see he had on elbow length laboratory gloves. His eyes were blurry but he could see well enough to know something even more horrific was in store for him.
“I need these gloves you see,” Garner held his arms up before him and wiggled his fingers. “For what’s in this jar is far worse that what I squirted in your eyes. After I release its contents you’ll beg me to spray you with that squirt gun again, because that pain will feel like a cool rain in comparison. Oh and I almost forgot.” He turned back around and when he again faced John he was wearing a large gas mask.
John was hysterical. Snot ran from his nose uncontrollably, his eyes poured tears like a fountain, and he had begun to drool. “Please.” John begged again and again.
Garner held the jar under John’s nose feigning as if to open it and as John’s shrieks and pleas hit even higher tones Garner just sighed. He returned to his bag and began returning the items he had removed. He knew now this man was innocent and he had been telling the truth all along.
“Please don’t kill me. I swear I don’t know what it is you want.” John pleaded.
“I know,” Garner calmly replied. I am sorry but what I am after is of vital importance. The contents of that book could potentially save millions.”
John didn’t understand and asked. “You think I’m a terrorist?”
“You were apparently wrongfully identified as a potential threat. Vital documents are missing and you sir fit the description and whereabouts of the perpetrator right down to the crew cut, the location, and the hour. “He paused not wanting to give this civilian so much Intel but he had just been torturing an innocent man. “You were in the army?” garner had noticed John’s tattoos.
“Yes,” he choked on his own bile still reeling from the chemical assault. “Yes, I was in eight years. I took a piece of shrapnel in the kneecap.”
“Your country owes you a debt. You will be compensated for this, but keep this to yourself. This is a matter of national security. “Garner stopped a moment then came close to John’s face this time his expression was almost sorrowful. He did feel bad he had harmed the wrong man, but he would willingly torture a thousand innocents to save a million. To him the numbers made sense and that’s what mattered.
John was thinking his claim of compensation was doubtful and Garner picked up on his thoughts from his doubtful gaze.
“Remember what I told you, I never lie.”
John passed out and had no memory of when his bindings were cut or when the man who had held him captive and tortured him had left. His head throbbed. He was in the basement of a beautifully restored nineteenth century home. He was still very confused and his eyes ached. He needed to wash his face and to try and get his head clear. The night before was a dark haze of pain and confusion. He found a bathroom and oddly enough there was a sign above the door stating “Public Restroom.”
He went in and washed as best he could. The cool water felt exquisite on his damaged eyes. After a few moments he set out to find out where he was. In the foyer was a plaque, he could not read the writing. His eyes were far too blurry to make out the small print. It was some sort of historic site. They were spread out all over the country here and there.” Some big time land owner from long ago blah, blah, and blah.” His throat was sore and his voice was barely audible even to himself.
He couldn’t find his keys, cellphone, or his wallet so he made his way back to where he had been bound in the hopes he would find them there. He stumbled over an old coffee table and nearly fell into the chair where he’d spent the previous night. He found his wallet, his phone, and his keys all neatly placed on the table the mad man had used.
John noticed a jar sitting there beside his things. It was the jar he had been threatened with. He picked it up and held it up to the morning light streaming through the leaded basement windows. His eyes were still very blurred but he could see well enough to know that this jar was full of nothing but air.
“You never lie do ya?” He asked the vacant room, he slammed the jar down a little too hard and it toppled and rolled off the far side of the table shattering on the ancient stone floor. John was walking up the steps when he heard a sound he didn’t quite recognize coming from behind him.
He jerked around and strained to see the source. He thought for certain he was hallucinating because it looked as if the paint on the walls behind him were beginning to peel and turn to dust. Pieces of the ceiling began to powder and fall gently drifting to the floor below which also seemed to be turning to dust before his very eyes. He grabbed a lamp from a table by the door and tossed it to the other side of the room. The lamp, the shade, the bulb, and the chord all turned to dust before they even reached the floor. His eyes were blurred but he was certain he knew what he just saw.
John ran.
Garner had left the wrongfully accused man sleeping, and had headed back towards town to his rented shower and his things. It was time to pack up and go after the next lead. He was accounting for all his belongings careful not to leave any trace. It was then he noticed the jar was gone.
“It comes to this old friend.” He spoke aloud to himself. He stopped his hasty departure grabbed a beer from the mini bar and kicked back on the bed. Garner knew there was no use in trying to escape. What was done was done and there was no place on this world or the next he could hide from what was coming.

fin

You Guys Are Awesome

Good morning,

I am enjoying my literary foray into cyberspace a great deal more than I had envisioned. I have been reading randomly for hours over the past few days and I am enjoying the brilliance of so many great writers and people who are so anxious to help others. I find it awe inspiring. I have been trying to get my writing posted so I have been working on that a great deal and I am finding myself with burning eyes and a sore back from too many hours in this computer chair. I just don’t want to stop because I am enjoying this probably more than makes sense. I am getting insights on my writing, which is very important to me and I have stumbled upon several inspirational pieces which  I am certain were written especially for me. I just wanted to post this and say I appreciate you all. I appreciate the likes and the comments and the general support I have received since I began this project five days ago. I wasn’t sure what to expect and I am happy to say that I am quite pleased with my experience but that is solely due to you guys, the bloggers. Thank you.

– JM

The Ogre and the Little Red Haired Girl

(another story I am working on based on someone I love dearly. I hope you enjoy – JM)

One

It was cold when she woke with her hair all a mess. It was still dark and she closed her eyes tight willing away the chill in the unwelcoming morning air. She dreaded the thought of getting dressed much less the thought of actually leaving the peace and warmth of her bedroll. The unforgiving world which was begrudgingly forced upon her in some new hellish way with each new day had grown dull; most days were even boring to her despite her vocation. She needed so much more.

The need for her services in this realm was fading. She had destroyed many of their kind these last ten years and it was time to move on to something new and exciting she mused. “What excitement do you believe you’ll find you daft girl?” Chere’s imitation of her long dead mistress from a school she couldn’t quite remember the name of anymore echoed through the thin fabric of her tent and through the barren valley below where she had set camp.

She heard a squeal somewhere on the far side of the valley and their big feet marring the dead ground as they began to flee from the sound of her voice. “No wonder I am running out of things to do. At least in the old days they tried to be sneaky. Now they run like, hmmm what were those things called?” There were none to hear save the fleeing damned which she stalked, predator to prey. She was a hunter skilled beyond measure. “Are they called beer?” At that she burst into laughter, “not beer, deer. They are like deer running from an old car from one of those old picture discs.”  She laughed sarcastically and loudly knowing the fleeing creatures she hunted would leave a much easier trail if they were terrified.

She was dressed and ready for the hunt which took only minutes. She was well practiced and very efficient in her purpose. Wake, kill, sleep, it was a mantra she sometimes recited when she drew near her prey. Many had seen her haphazard style of hunting and trapping and believed they could go out all on their own in search of riches and fame. She had burned more than a few former helpers’ corpses after liberating the bulbous growth which had once been a head from their warped and twisted shoulders.

She was a true beauty in every way. The old timers said she reminded them of what they called, “movie stars.” When asked her height she would always say “five foot five and a half inches, the half counts too!” Yes she was an extraordinary woman by all accounts. She wouldn’t hear of it and to praise her, one would believe she was actually in pain. Her heart held the world and her shoulders bore the weight and she asked for nothing in return. People did pay her for her services but she never asked nor did she expect it. Most couldn’t afford to pay a hunter and most hunters were desperate men in need of a meal and rarely finished the first day on the job. No, the weight she bore would crush men ten times her size yet she persevered.

Chere didn’t even know why she had survived at this for so long. She thought her luck would have run out by now. No hunter that she had ever heard of had made it more than a few years at best. A good hunter she was told “could bag twelve a year, and that was only if ya never stop hunting. “ Chere in the beginning, when she was hunting fueled by rage and not for the greater good was killing twelve a week or more.  She had discovered they liked to congregate, like people. She spat at the thought of those mindless things acting like people. “People they once were, but not anymore. Quit thinking like a rookie girl.” She admonished herself. “Thoughts like that give you doubts and doubts get you killed.”

Not since the great culling had “The Ogres” been killed in such numbers. In the beginning she left the severed heads on spikes as a warning to keep them away from people. It had not worked; they seemed to be attracted to the places the heads were displayed. So for a time Chere used mounted heads as bait. It would bring them forth in droves and in droves she would slaughter them. Axe and dagger in hand she would charge head long into a crowd of twenty enraged ogres. Their hulking bodies too slow to quite catch her and as they tried she chopped limb and skull until they were no more. This made her famous and feared even by the people she saved.

These creatures had all once been human. It wasn’t voodoo or black magic which had corrupted them so; it had been good old science. Chere had heard fragmented stories claiming an accident and others claiming some psycho religious nut broke into a lab to destroy some research weighing 180 pounds at 5’11” and walked out at seven foot tall and 450 pounds smashing everything that got in his way and eating anyone who didn’t. The story she had been told that seemed most likely was it was an experiment in genetics that had gone terribly wrong. In an attempt to grow lost limbs they completely altered the human DNA strand in such a way that it caused instant mutation throughout the body. These mutations severely damaged the brain and rendered higher brain function impossible. This caused the afflicted to begin behaving on a primal level. She had heard it referred to as devolution.  “The best part is it is contagious like a virus and transmitted like vampirism,” she yelled to the barren valley.

“I wish they were vampires,” she mused aloud to the desolate valley. She hadn’t done much the last few days so she was letting her quarry get a nice head start before she began. These early morning walks and solo conversations were her way of preparing for a long day of killing. Yes she was ready now. All thought cleared from her mind. She drew her axe in her right hand and her dagger in her left and gave chase.

Two

Chere ran for two straight hours on the trail of the lumbering beasts. It had taken a full hour to traverse the valley to where the ogres had made what passed for a camp. There were bits of bone in a pile and divots in the charred earth where they had lain.  She could see there were at least seven in this pack. As she were ready to head out she saw to her surprise a much smaller indention in the ground. Something smaller than the typical behemoths she hunted but much larger than any normal human should be. Chere saw something protruding from the ground half obscured by the falling earth from the monsters earlier flight. She pulled it free and shook the dirt and ash off. It was a little pinkish-purple stuffed animal. It looked like a cat-bear.

As she pondered why such a thing would be found in the camp of mindless beasts such as these and was ready to dismiss it as nothing the smell hit her nose and she nearly vomited. “What in God’s name?” She blurted.  Then it hit her. The smell was ogre, and from the looks of the cat-bear this ogre had been carrying this stuffed animal for a very long time. It had been many decades since something like this had been manufactured. Yes they were sold by the millions but most toys and unnecessary items had been reclaimed and used as stuffing and patches for blankets. Fabric was a highly sought after commodity and even as little as this cat-bear contained it still had value. She had dreamed as a child of finding a house like the ones she had seen in the picture discs untouched by scavengers. She would have been rich beyond all measure with just the blankets from the beds and the towels from the linen closets.

“You were a stupid kid back then girl, being rich in this world is like being the top turd in a toilet bowl.” She chuckled but the uncertainty in her own voice as she had spoken had unnerved her. Then she remembered the little ones she and her sister had tried to protect when the herd had descended on her village. She was born into this life and knew nothing else. She had been taught since birth to never go anywhere alone and that there was strength in numbers. Her village like any other was fortified. A bull ogre fully enraged and hungry could nearly walk through the side of a brick building as if walking through an open door. Each village had built fortifications far beyond what seemed necessary. There were walls built behind walls built behind walls. They used anything they could find to stop the charging monsters and so far it had worked.

She remembered when as many as ten had attacked and everyone including the children would be on the walls throwing stones and spears and anything which may slow the onslaught and even a group of ten with five bulls at the lead couldn’t penetrate the barriers. Her parents were gone and she was thankful that they hadn’t gone the way of most of what was left of humanity had gone. No they had been taken by the fever and as in every village there was a house full of orphans the village as a whole cared for. When the ogres came, it was every man for himself. It wasn’t selfishness that caused this save yourself mentality it was pure terror that even the bravest amongst them could barely contain. Chere and her sister had hidden the children and themselves inside the walls of their make shift orphanage. There were no doctors anymore and these things called hospitals she had heard about in stories as a child. “One day things will be back to the way they once were and you kids will have your own homes and beds and there will be nothing else to fear.” This was the lie all children were told to give them hope.

A single tear fell from her eye as she spoke “yes hope didn’t stop the ogres from coming by the hundreds, no hope had been the sauce they were marinated in before it was time to be eaten.” She tucked the rank cat-bear into her pack and an evil malicious grin crept onto her face. As she set out again she had doubled her pace. It felt like the old days. She wasn’t even able to finish the thought of the night which had forever changed her life before she was in a full on rage. She looked forward to their screams as she slaughtered them and the little one she’d save for last.

As she ran the pictures flooded her mind and she knew this was due to the flashback of the night she had lost her sister and all the other young children of her village. The beasts came at full speed and the barrier did very little to slow them. Those on the wall had been the first victims to succumb to the voracious horde. She lost many friends in the first minutes of the battle. “No, battle isn’t the right word.” She stopped and pulled a small flask containing water from her belt and spat, “buffet, they were a buffet.”

She corked her flask wiped her face on her sleeve and continued her harried pace.  She hadn’t felt the rage of the hunt in many years. She had nearly come to pity the creatures she had mercilessly slaughtered for so long. They couldn’t speak or beg for mercy but the shrieks in their final moments sometimes haunted her dreams. She would wipe the sleep from her eyes and quickly dismiss the shrieks as nothing more than an animal’s reaction to the slaughter. She’d say aloud, “They are no more sentient than a frog or a fish,” and the thought would drift out of her mind.

She could see one of the beasts just ahead leaning against a tree with his back to her. She halted and began sneaking around to confront the massive bull and to her surprise she saw it was already dead. Its head had been smashed in by a rock she was sure weighed at least 200 pounds. She felt panicked and began to scan the dead forest all around her.  There was nothing. She had witnessed bulls fighting before        but something didn’t seem right to her. In every instance when they had fought the loser had been the meal of the group. If she hadn’t known any better she would have thought it some sort of ritual. There was little food left in this part of the world save for fish and fowl. There were no large mammals left. No dogs or cats, which had been eaten by ogre and human alike.

Everyone save successful ogre hunters starved. This left the ogres only two options for food, humans and each other. They weren’t cleaver enough to catch fish or birds and a 500 pound bull could eat a full grown man a day. Some she had encountered had almost looked scrawny to her. If a thing man shaped and 400 pounds could be considered scrawny. These were the most vicious of them all. A starving ogre wouldn’t try and kill his prey first he’d try and eat you to death. Chere had witnessed these gruesome acts more times than she cared to remember. Those screams she couldn’t wipe away or dismiss so she continued to hunt.

Three

As Chere ran more and more visions from her past ran through her mind. Her body was strong and she could keep up this pace all day and still be able to fight at the end, but these memories were beginning to take their toll on her agitated mind. She hadn’t allowed herself to fall into such a state as this while she hunted in years but today was not a day like she had experienced before. There had been times when things had seemed odd or even organized about the creatures she hunted but the cat-bear and the tiny indention, by comparison, had her mind racing.

These things had once been human and no one even the biggest and nastiest among them had deserved such a fate. She was fighting a thought which kept trying to break through. “It can’t be,” she blurted and stumbled to a stop. “A child turned ogre? Are they breeding?” She asked the empty forest.

She had been running for nearly four hours it was midmorning and the ogre’s tracks were as fresh as ever. “A blind man could track a frightened ogre.” She had heard boasted by a few brave men here and there freshly returning from a hunt, usually with a bloated rotting head in tow for proof to gain the favor of small villages to get free food and drink and to win the favors of the young women so very grateful to their saviors. In one case she even recognized the putrid head a hunter had put on a spike outside a local tavern. It had been one hell of a fight and that old bull had nearly gotten her. It had seemed to know how to fight. It hadn’t blindly charged but took a defensive position waiting for her to strike.

When she ran in expecting it to lunge forward it side stepped and with a huge swipe back handed her so hard she crashed into a tree breaking two ribs and splitting her head open. She had lain very still until the ogre was close and as he bent to claim his prize he was met with her dagger which she sank deep into its right eye socket. She had left the slain beast where it had fallen knowing she’d be unable to fend off another attack if a group were to find her while she was burning the remains. This too was another reason she preferred burning her kills.

She had returned to the small village where the famed hunter had spiked the ogre’s head outside the tavern only a week later to find the bones of its people littering the streets. A large group had smashed through the barriers and had razed the entire town. Every building and every home had been smashed or burnt. There wasn’t a soul alive but outside the tavern on a spike sat the head of the great hunter. She figured someone had realized he was the cause and reason they had been over run and so she imagined human hands had been at work but now she wasn’t so sure. It was now a widely known fact that using ogre heads as a deterrent was folly and she herself had let it be known to every village she passed.

She decided to take a rest. She wasn’t tired but she needed to settle her mind or she ran the chance of being caught off guard. She had to know. As far as she knew there were no other hunters who had been at this as long as she had. She had spent more time watching them and witnessing their odd behavior than anyone else she knew of. She had always thought it to be pack like. No different than coyotes or wild dogs. There was the biggest and meanest and it would seem that it was the leader. He’d sit howling indecipherable commands which the others followed.  “There couldn’t be any true intelligent thought behind those shrieks and howls could there?” Chere asked the silent trees quizzically.

In the distance a quiet yelp caught her attention. She jumped to her feet as if expecting an onslaught but again the forest grew silent. She slowly made her way towards where the sound had come. “How far off had it been?” She whispered aloud, “and what would have made such a sound?”

Ahead she saw a clearing she slowly encircled it checking for any would be attackers. Even in this world it was wise to be just as wary of man as it is to be wary of ogres. The ogres all wanted one thing and that was to eat. The men all wanted one thing as well, at least the ogres intent wasn’t malicious they were just trying to survive.

Once she was sure there wasn’t an ambush waiting she crept closer.  In the middle of the clearing hanging from a pole rammed into the ground was a fat ogre leg. Beneath the leg was a pit. As she slowly crept closer she heard the yelp issue from below the bait.

She had never seen a wolf before other than pictures. She had been certain all such creatures were extinct. But in the pit below impaled through the neck was a wolf. She felt instant sorrow for this majestic creature. She had seen many pictures on the discs of these beautiful creatures and she was certain that what lay dead just below her may be the last timber wolf. Then she again heard the yelp.

She carefully lowered herself into the pit and nestled against the dead wolf was a single pup. It was a fat ball of fur and even tried to snarl as she pulled it free from its mother’s long dry teat. She couldn’t stop herself from the involuntary “awww, you’re so cute,” which issued from her lips. With the pup nestled in her arms she climbed out of the pit and inspected the work.

“Well little guy this was not built for you of that I am sure, it was just poor luck that your mother landed the way she did.” She pondered a moment. “This is an ogre trap. A pretty good one too but it must have taken four men two full days to dig this. Any ogres in the area would have heard and been on them in minutes and yet they managed to do a pit this large.” The spikes were big and the pit was deep and wide. “Ten ogres would fit in there and if they were charging for food they’d of all fell to their deaths.” The little wolf pup just looked up at her trembling and she smiled down at him and kissed his nose. “Let’s get you out of here.”

“I’ll call you Mojo.” She smiled and left the clearing.

Eulogy

(This is my first novel, I began it back in 2001 but did not finish it until 2011 so please forgive me if some of the material is dated. Also, and I beg, keep in mind I have come a long way with my crimes against punctuation since I began on this journey. This is the first 30 pages or so. I hope you enjoy. Any critiques would be greatly appreciated. I will post more as I have a chance to go through and make sure the chapters are legible. I have a horrible habit of thinking faster than I am able to type. Thank you. – JM)

 

 Eulogy

The Beginning 1

Riad woke early as he did every morning, brushed his teeth, showered, and dressed. He quietly made a simple breakfast of sliced pineapple and bananas. He was always respectful to his roommates despite his secret loathing of them both.

He had lived here in this cramped apartment for almost two years as he attended NYU working towards a degree he knew he’d never finish. Riad was a peace loving sort who prayed every night that his people would be free of the infidels’ oppression.

At times he found himself wondering if they were as bad as he had been taught. Then he would remember the flashes and explosions so powerful his hearing had been damaged. This he told his classmates was a hereditary problem.

Then with heart crushing clarity he remembered his mother. The memory of her so fragile, dying in his father’s arms took over. She had a wooden beam deeply lodged in her chest; the pictures flooded his mind. The silent eeriness of it made his heart race and spine tingle even after all these years.

The beam had been driven home by the force of the infidel’s mortar round. Whether human error or an act of nature, the round had missed the warehouse fifty yards away and had blown away the entire corner of his family’s modest home.

His mother had tried to speak but could not form the words. It would have mattered little; he and his father would not have been able to hear. They watched her struggle to breathe her last breaths with destroyed lungs.

He steadied himself, fighting the urge to scream. Hatred hardened his heart. “Yes they are that bad.” He muttered softly under his breath.

He noticed the time and hurried himself. He finished his breakfast and set out just as he had done every weekday for the past two years. It was only five in the morning when he hit the frigid New York streets and he felt revitalized by the brisk air, he kept a quick pace.

He followed his regimen to the minute. He met his train at the usual time, exited at his usual stop. He was known for being one of the first to arrive and last to leave at the school’s massive library. He enjoyed learning and it kept his mind from his most feared enemy: doubt.

He began to study as he had always done but today was of course different than any before. He wondered to himself, will I live through this? He quickly shook this thought off, knowing it wasn’t important. He had a mission and he would do what he was asked no matter what it was.

It was a quarter till seven when the messenger arrived. Riad didn’t know what to make of this man. He was dressed in a canary yellow windbreaker, bicycle shorts, helmet, and gloves, all of which were covered in reflective strips. Riad hadn’t known who would show up, but to trust such delicate information to just any bicycle messenger shocked him.

He signed for the envelope and nonchalantly opened it, feigning interest for the benefit of the nosy librarian who had pointed him out to the messenger. He acted happy as he pulled the card from the envelope.

He said, smiling, “It’s my birthday.”

“Happy birthday,” replied the librarian who went back to her work, disinterested.

Riad had no problem acting; he had been doing so for years. He was after all on the frontlines of the war. He had to do what was expected of him. He had sworn to his fallen mother and the ailing father he had left behind to complete this mission.

The card was one of the musical types and as he opened it he had been afraid it would blare music into the silence of the early morning library, but it had not. It read “Happy birthday son, Love your Mother and Father.”

This made his heart ache. His father had died a year after his arrival in the US. He had been unable to go back for the funeral, fearing it would jeopardize the mission. He scanned the library, making sure no prying eyes were on him. He flipped over the card and saw that where the manufacturer logo should have been, there was instead a fictitious brand name and an address. He gathered his belongings and casually left the library.

He made his way outside, hailed a cab, and went to the address. The cab ride took a long time, which was fine with Riad. He had casually opened a book containing the birthday card and using his thumbnail, tore open the part that normally contained the little device which played the music. He saw that in its place was a small silver key.

“Clever,” he said under his breath.

“Huh,” barked the groggy cabby who looked as if he hadn’t had a day off in weeks.

“Oh nothing, sorry, I was just thinking out loud,” he replied, without a trace of tension in his voice.

He arrived at the address at eight thirty. He paid the cabby, giving him a nice tip.

“Thanks Bub,” retorted the cabby with a grin, “need me to wait on ya?”

Riad replied, “No thanks. I have business to handle here.” I don’t know exactly what business that is, he thought, as the cabby sped off.

He approached the building, which was a plain brick structure with a faded sign that read Jones’s Short Term/Long Term Storage. He entered. There was a reception desk with a grumpy looking old man dozing in an old cushy lounge chair in front of a set of double steel doors.

At the sound of Riad entering the old man looked up and snapped, “Key, where’s your key?”

Riad produced the key. The old man looked it over and handed it back wordlessly, buzzing him through to the storage area. The old man leaned back and began snoring immediately. Riad found this amusing and was grinning as he walked down the narrow corridor towards the locker that matched the number on his key.

The locker was small and the lock made quite a bit of noise, as if it hadn’t been opened in a very long time. Riad imagined it had not been. He knew little of what he was involved in, but he knew that he was not alone. He was comforted to know that many other people just like him, warriors on the front line of this epic battle were following messages this very morning all on different paths driven by faith.

All he knew about what was to come was told to him by a mysterious figure in a dark room four years earlier. “There will be many, and not one of you will know the others involved. This plan was set into motion after the invasion of Kuwait by the Infidel Americans and their supporters. We have been placing people and equipment all over the world since 1993.” He knew that this plan had cost lives, hundreds of millions of dollars, and sixteen years of hard work. He would not fail.

He slowly entered the small storage unit and was convinced there was some sort of mistake. It appeared to be filled with nonsense junk. There were boxes of old clothes, toys, and books. His heart sank. Was this all for nothing? Did someone fail at their portion of the mission? Are we found out? He began sweating, expecting armed assassins to come bearing down on him in a hail of bullets.

He waited a few tense minutes and when nothing happened, he began digging. He inspected box after box and just as he was sure there was nothing of use he saw a box labeled Riad’s Junk tucked away in the back corner. All his fears faded and he knew that once he opened this box there was no turning back. He was filled with strength, knowing that his faith was about to be tested.

As he moved the cardboard box, he found it was bigger than the rest and very heavy, though still manageable. He was very careful with it, not sure what he would find inside. It could be anything, as he had no idea what had been planned for him.

He imagined explosives. That was the simplest way, he had long thought, strap on a bomb and blow myself up somewhere densely populated. He always hoped it wouldn’t be explosives but that was irrelevant. He would do what he must.

He held his breath and opened the box. “Balloons?” He choked. The box was half full of deflated balloons. They were the nice ones you buy for birthdays and anniversaries and such. Pulling the balloons out slowly, looking for some form of instruction, he found a small note taped to the inside of the box which read:

Riad you are a great man and your name will echo through the halls of history through all the ages to come. Keep your faith my brother and you shall be a hero. Fill as many of these as you can carry around with you, release the gas on buses, trains, anywhere the infidels congregate. Do this all this day until you are caught or killed. If you are blessed with one more day, be in Time’s Square at nine am tomorrow. God be with you my friend.

He didn’t know who had written the letter, but it did not matter. He understood secrecy was important so that the architects of this great mission could live on to formulate new scenarios for exterminating the enemy.

He removed all the balloons and saw four helium tanks beneath. He filled and sealed a large bunch of balloons, then tied them in a bunch and added a bow. The old man did not stir as he left and he was careful not to let the door slam.

He waited at the bus stop and whistled Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. He was quite fond of classical music. As the lumbering bus approached, his whistling ceased and his lips expanded into a warm smile for the driver as the doors opened.

He sat in the first open seat he came to, he was all smiles to the other passengers but his insides were churning. He noticed a beautiful blond women sitting nearby. He caught her eye and she smiled sweetly at him. He let his mind wander for a moment, imagining her holding him, telling him how much she loved him. He saw their children being born and growing. He saw their future house and their blissful happiness.

The woman noticed he was still watching her as he was lost in his thoughts and her smile broadened. Just as quickly as he let his mind wander he snapped back into reality. Just for a moment, the woman saw the vicious intent in his eyes but he recovered with a quick smile. The young woman did not look at him again and exited at the next stop.

He admonished himself silently. How could you be so foolish, she is as bad as any of them, she may as well have launched the mortar that killed your mother!  They are the enemy and they are not to be trusted!

With that he punctured the first balloon. He went from bus to bus and train to train, careful he did not pop more than one in front of the same people, in order to avoid suspicion.

He traveled all over the city, visiting parts he had never been to before, often feigning disdain if anyone noticed one of his slackening balloons. He returned eight times that day each time carrying away a fresh bunch of balloons and a box of junk to make it appear he was just emptying the storage unit. The people running the place did not seem to care one way or the other.

Riad mused at how easy this all was more than once that long day. They don’t care enough to notice what is going on around them. These people deserve whatever they get.

In the afternoon he stood in a busy subway tunnel releasing balloon after balloon filled with what, he did not know, nor did he care. He had developed a cough that was mild at first and progressively worsened. At first he thought that it was being out so much that day that was making him sick, but then it occurred to him that it was most likely what he was unleashing upon the unsuspecting infidels. They are so prideful, they believe they can attack us in our homes but are safe to come and go as they please.

He spent twelve hours doing as his instructions had bade him until he was too sick to even think of continuing. He had noticed a great deal of sneezing and coughing much like his own during the last few hours.

He returned home at nearly eleven that night. His roommates were both home but did not greet him. They were already asleep. He thought this to be strange, considering neither of them ever went to bed this early. As he dozed off in between his own coughing and sneezing fits, he could have sworn he heard the same sounds of sickness coming from both of his roommates’ bedrooms.

When he woke the next morning he was surprised to see it was already bright outside. He had never overslept in the two years he had lived here. He had trouble getting up and getting to the bathroom. He was running a high fever and sweat poured from his body. There was no sound in the apartment except the wheezing coming from the other two bedrooms.

The gravity of what he had done slowly began to set in. It was obvious that both his roommates had the same symptoms as him and neither of them used the bus or subways. He began to wonder just what was in those helium tanks.

He took a much longer than usual shower, trying to let the steam clear his sinuses but to no avail. He got dressed, but did not eat. He left without waking his roommates. Despite years of acting as their friend, they were nothing to him, just two more enemies that needed to be dealt with.

He left the apartment at seven am and it took him an hour and a half to walk to Times Square. This walk would normally take him no more than an hour but he was very tired this morning. He didn’t want to ride the bus or to take the train so he just walked. He noticed even for this hour there were fewer people than normal. Another thing he noticed were the amount of sirens he heard. More than half the people he did see all seemed to be in the throes of a horrible flu just like him.

Riad found an unoccupied bench in Times Square and waited. He prayed silently to himself. He could not stop coughing but from what he had seen this morning he had done his job well. He smiled despite the fever and pain in his chest. At five minutes to nine a man sat down beside him.

“Riad?” The man asked.

This startled Riad and he slowly replied, “Yes.”

“I only received your name this morning in a note I found with this briefcase, it said that you would be here by nine and that if you had done your job well you would be very sick. My friend I know you did your job well because I am very sick also.”

“I thought this was all to be secret?” replied Riad, a bit shocked.

“I know, my friend. The note told me to explain that I was to meet you before the end because true warriors like us deserve better than to die alone with nothing but the company of infidels.”

Neither of the two sick men spoke again, they just sat and prayed silently for their remaining moments. Each man knew that at exactly nine am they would be at their god’s side. They both sat sickly smiling as the small nuclear device detonated. Times Square was vaporized.

Simultaneously in major cities all across the world similar situations unfolded. Any country allied with the US was attacked, but none to the extent of the US. There were attacks in thirty states. Within minutes the news spread around the globe. Fifteen minutes after the detonations there was a broadcast accepting responsibility.

The static cleared and the familiar face of Osama Bin Laden appeared. The message was short and disturbing. “American Infidels, you and your allies will all be destroyed. The first phase of our attack was more successful than we could have dreamt, the Infidels shall fall!”

The world was thrown into a state of panic. The highways and interstates around the world became jammed with panicked people fleeing for the safety of the countryside. They believed they were escaping certain nuclear death if they left the cities.

Their plan could not have worked better. The millions of people fleeing carried with them a death sentence far worse than they could have imagined. The virus spread like wild fire. There was a complete collapse of emergency services, crash victims died in their vehicles, house fires burned unchecked, and all semblance of order collapsed.

The National Guard was ordered to block all interstate traffic but it was futile. In many cases the guardsmen were over powered by armed civilians. When they tried to defend themselves with force, they were gunned down. There was no stemming the flood of sick from swarming the rural countryside. It was hope that drove them on, and it was hope that sentenced millions more to a horrific death.

By the time the government knew what was happening, it was far too late. The president issued a plea to cease all movement, warning that traveling was only going to spread the virus faster and increase the mortality rate. His plea went unheeded. It seemed none would be spared.

The virus acted fast. Anyone who contracted it only believed they had the flu at first. It progressed so rapidly that by the time the sick realized it was something worse than the flu they were already in the throes of a fever-induced delirium. This aided in the spread of panic. The infected, suffering from diminished mental capacity, resorted to the most basic instincts: fight or flight.

Riad died without knowing what he had released on the American people, but knowing there would be casualties. He believed these casualties would be localized. When the stranger with the briefcase arrived he understood there was a bomb inside but he had not realized that it was nuclear.

The thousands of people he imagined dying were only a miniscule drop in the ocean of deaths that he actually caused. Not even the architects of this intended genocide could have truly grasped its scope.

The bombs had killed hundreds of thousands, being detonated simultaneously at the beginning of the work day in dense areas as they were. The true genius of the plan was made evident during the following days after the explosions.

Within three days American losses had reached 50 million people. These numbers were impossible to substantiate because the infrastructure had all but collapsed.

There were vague stories before the networks went off the air that this was an accelerated form of the Ebola virus. These stories raised more questions than answers. Millions more died each day. In a healthy adult it took three to four days from infection to death. Within two weeks, ninety percent of all human life was snuffed out. This dramatic turn of events was something no one could have foreseen.

2

 

He stood proud, even as imminent death approached. Slowly with great effort, “As you can see no one is immune to these, most unholy of events. Millions of our friends, neighbors,” briefly he paused, choking back tears, “and loved ones have already fallen to the disease that is spanning the globe.”

The last words he had spoken seemed to add weight to his withering frame and he fell to his knees. The podium obscured the view, but it was more than obvious the President was vomiting. The dying man gasped for air, unable to catch his breath. Uniformed doctors, most of whom appeared to be in no better condition than their prestigious patient, rushed to his side. Suddenly without any warning the network feed was cut, ending the last Presidential speech ever to be given.

Alex sat silently hanging on every word. Teary eyed in disbelief he vaulted off the couch towards the TV, aloud he said, “This isn’t real, this is like that comedian, yeah that’s it, the crappy comedian who does the presidential impersonations. That’s not really the President there; this is some sick bastard’s idea of a joke. How could I have been so stupid, it’s obvious he’s a fake, he’s too small, doesn’t have the right skin tone and the voice is way off.” Self-assured this was nothing more than a hoax he changed the channel.

Alex checked all 8 of the stations his television would pick up and was horrified to see that every channel was either static or an emergency services message. His assurance fled him as quickly as they had come. His hope waned, only to be replaced with despair and confusion.

Shaking violently, as he was known to do when reason had begun to fail him, Alex screamed, “This is America, this shit doesn’t happen here!”

He jumped to his feet and half ran, half stumbled to the rear of the house. He stormed into the cramped bathroom grabbing the door to the medicine cabinet, knocking over a ceramic vase which shattered as it hit the tank of the toilet. Ceramic shards rained down around his bare feet, slicing the exposed skin. Oblivious, he continued his search. All that was going through his mind was that he needed his pills.

He had taken himself off these pills as he had done every other time they put him on something new, always giving him the spiel about how he needed to give them a few months to start working properly. He gave it a few months, went as long as four on these. They too, only seemed to aggravate his symptoms more than help. The only good side effect, he could see, was that they were capable of causing him to sleep for extended periods of time. He once slept thirty-six hours after taking only four. At this moment, all he wanted was to go to sleep and forget the world. He would work this all out when He woke up.

They were not where he remembered leaving them. He slammed the medicine cabinet so violently the mirrored door shattered raining even more razor sharp projectiles down on himself. This to, he seemed not to notice.

He tore back towards the front of the house. He over turned furniture, smashed holes in the walls, and launched any inanimate objects which dared be in his way.

Entering the kitchen he began slinging the entire contents of cabinets onto the floor with one sweep of his broad arm. To him the time spent searching seemed more an eternity than the 20 minutes it actually was. He jerked the microwave away from the wall with more force than was necessary. It flew nearly to the other side of the kitchen.

He found what he’d been searching for behind the microwave. “How in the fuck did you get there?” He yelled at the bottle, which he then opened and dry swallowed six 300 mg. tablets of  Seroquel.

Alex, still very much in the midst of a psychotic episode, calmed down considerably, “More than enough, I will sleep a full day, two if I’m lucky.” Talking to the wake of his most recent destructive outburst, he continued. “Just enough time for a smoke,” he told the ruined kitchen.

He righted the overturned couch and sat down. He then noticed that the emergency services loop had gone to static. The pills had begun very quickly to do their magic. He hadn’t eaten in days so there was nothing in his stomach to slow down his digestion. He got up, nearly falling over the battered coffee table and clicked off the TV. He made his way back to the couch, dropped onto it, and with cigarette and lighter in hand passed out.

He dreamed terrible dreams, but the one that He was having now seemed too good to be true. It was real to Him as His dreams always seemed to be. He was with his brother in Cleveland. His brother, a guitarist was on the road and would have been in Cleveland that very night.

There were no diseased people here, everyone seemed happy to see him. In his dream he was thrilled, the concert was packed and going great. Everything felt fine to him, which was quite unusual. At that moment he was happier than he had been in years. It had been a very long time since last he had dared going into a crowded place. It had been two full years since he’d last even been inside a grocery store, but this night, this concert, everything was perfect.

He began to notice that the crowd was all people he knew. These were all the people he cared most about in the world, all his friends, and loved ones were gathered here. Then for a second he thought he glimpsed His Grandmother, who had raised him since he was seven years old.

At first, it didn’t seem very odd to him that she’d be amongst all those he cared about. It struck him suddenly, his stomach dropped as if he were on a roller coaster. “She’s dead, been dead five years now. That was just my imagination.” He blurted. As if on cue, she appeared before him, an apparition breaking through the crowd. She was all smiles and warmth.

“GET OUT!” She screamed. He stumbled backwards towards the bar, blindly landing on a bar stool. She had changed; he was in shock to see the woman he had most admired was now a grotesque rotted version of herself.

The band stopped playing; this drew his attention in the direction of the stage where he saw what he feared more than death itself. His brother was there holding his guitar in a state best described as living death. “Rick, oh God, Rick, what has happened to you?”

“It is ok little brother, I’m ok now, but you need to go,” said the animated corpse of his brother.

They were all dead all around him, everyone he knew. It was not fear that welled inside him, it was sorrow and shame that they were all dead and he was not. Even in his own dreams he had no sense of self-worth.

He began to cry, and the rapidly decomposing crowd all gave sympathetic looks. They began to fall apart silently with no signs of discomfort or even sorrow, as if they were all resigned to their fates. Most were still smiling when their legs crumbled under the weight of their torsos.

The floor appeared to be no floor at all but some benevolent entity greedily swallowing up all he loved. They fell into the all-encompassing darkness. The darkness was spreading. There were no sounds other than a giggle which he was sure had come from his long dead sister. She died along with his parents in the crash, which altered his waking life forever.

Now there were only four remaining. Still on the stage were his brother and the only three other people he had spent any real time with since leaving High School. He began to cry harder looking at these four people he was now sure he’d never see again.

Rick spoke, “Alex you have to leave, you can’t stay in this place, all that made it home is gone. It’s a new world for you now. Live, you hear me? Live.”

“I don’t understand, what happened to you, why are you dead,” He begged.

“That’s how it has to be,” Rick had tears in his eyes but his voice never faltered. “It’s now the perfect world for you Bro, no people,” at this the three people who knew him best standing just behind his brother laughed.

In unison the three said, “Love ya man,” graciously they stepped off the stage and into the darkness before Alex had to witness their decomposing any further.

“I have to go, I love you Brother, take care of yourself, and no matter what, don’t forget to leave,” Said his dead brother. He added earnestly, “It will be hard, but I know you can do it.”

“I…I… don’t understand,” he was cut off as his brother cranked the volume on his guitar stack and started playing a song Alex knew well, Seasons In The Abyss, by Slayer. Still playing with a last look at his brother and a nod he jumped into the darkness.

He was falling. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been falling, but usually he had panicked at this feeling while dreaming. This time it was different, as if he were comforted by his own weightlessness. After the dream and the sensation of falling ebbed away he slept peacefully for 8 more hours.

It was a day like any other day, the sky was visible through the smudged windows of his little room. The somber grey clouds were motionless. With effort, he rolled on his side to see the time and to find a cigarette. He wasn’t sure how he’d made it to his room, but that was normal. He often found himself in different places than he’d fallen asleep.

Seroquel sleep was his favorite sleep; he often woke with his mind a blank slate. He rubbed his temples, trying to remember. “What happened last night?” Then as in answer a sharp pain tore through his head starting at the nape of his neck continuing around to his eyes. As his eyes blurred and tears began to form it all came back to him. “How did this happen?” He yelled at the ceiling.

He remembered the dream with perfect clarity, his brother, grandmother and all his dead friends trying to warn him away, he whispered, “But from what?”

He got up stumbled through the house towards the living room, all the while surveying the damage from the previous night’s rampage. He turned on the T.V. and searched the channels, all were gone. Static is the only reward his search provided.

“How could this be?” he asked aloud.

“No one to run the stations you goof ball,” he heard his brother say in the back of his head.

Checking the stereo He only found an emergency services loop, “By order of the President of the United States of America, all citizens are to cease all movement. The United States has been attacked by terrorists using small nuclear devices, as well as biological weaponry. The only way to stop the spread of this virus is to cease all movement. If you believe yourself to have been infected, do not seek medical help. Find a secure location and quarantine yourself. Seeking help will only spread the disease further. There is no cure; I repeat there is no cure.”

“FUCK YOU!” He yelled, which freshened the unbearable pain in his head. He paced from room to room trying to grasp what had happened. All his thoughts were confused glimpses of horror fantasy coated in a thin layer of reality.

“I’m going crazy”, he chanted to himself under his breath. He walked through the house, looking in every closet, every cabinet, and drawer, as if searching for some lost artifact of sanity, he collapsed on the couch.  The pills he had taken the night before had not yet run their course. He dozed fitfully.

Half asleep he heard a loud bang from the rear of the house. Alex jumped off the couch in a run, tripped over the over turned coffee table and slammed into the TV stand knocking the television to the floor. Stunned he regained his footing and picked his way to the front door.

Silently he begged God that the noise had been His brother. “Rick, Bro is that you?” No answer came as he stood on the porch looking around. Then he heard it again, this time he heard breaking glass.

He couldn’t contain his excitement, “Bro where are you?” he ran, nearly falling as he rounded the corner at full speed. To his disappointment, the yard was empty.

It was cold out; the calm was eerie this early March morning. Alex was grief stricken; in that moment it occurred to him he would never see his brother again. Then he remembered the noise. He slowly continued around his house, near the rear there were three hard cover novels on the ground.

“Alex, over here,” Issued a raspy voice he nearly recognized.

“Who is it?” He asked startled as he turned slowly around.

There in the window of his neighbor’s house, was what looked like a zombie. The once robust family man looked like something from a late night sci-fi marathon. The discharge appeared green in the early morning light and steamed as his neighbor leaned out the window to vomit. It oozed from his nose, ears, and mouth. The eye sockets seemed empty from where Alex stood. He needed to get closer to see if this man were really alive. Being prone to hallucinations, as he was, he wasn’t sure if what he was seeing was real.

Alex had known John for five years and was sure this wasn’t his neighbor. This was not the man he had sat with and watched his two little girls play in the yard. Alex remember watching, longing for a family of his very own. He thought this is someone else for sure. I just saw John last week; this poor guy is at least 50 lbs. lighter. He began to walk closer.

“Stop,” yelled His neighbor. The exertion obviously pained him; he groaned and began dry heaving.

“I, I,” stuttered Alex, realizing his folly, but could not think of what to say.

After gaining his composure, as well as he was able,”Alex is your phone still working?”

“I don’t know, I have a dial tone but I haven’t talked to anyone in several days. My brother is out of town,” answered Alex. “He should be calling soon.” He added.

“I’m going to call you in a minute, I need to talk to you, it’s important.” He wheezed. There was pity in John’s voice; he knew what Alex was denying. The chances that his brother was still alive in all this were very unlikely.

Alex was back on the couch where he spent most of His time, “waiting to die,” he had mused to a friend of his and his brother. He had laughed at the time, but all the while, in the back of his mind, he believed it to be true.

After about five minutes the phone rang, “Hello John?”

“Yeah, how you holding up Alex, I would have called sooner but I thought you left with your brother.” John was having trouble catching His breath.

“I’m sorry, are you guys ok?” He felt like such an ass for not checking on John and his family.

“We were all infected, my girls and my wife died earlier this morning.” John’s voice had diminished to the point where Alex had to turn the volume up on the phone to full just to hear him.

Alex was stunned, again he thought of how he had envied this man for all he had. Now this same man, his only friend beyond the members of his brother’s band, had lost everything. He was now losing his life. Tears began to fill His eyes, as he thought of John’s daughters and how young they were.

“John, I am so sorry,” Alex felt that to be inadequate to tell a man who just lost two children and His wife, but was at a loss of what else to say.

“Thank you,” John was weeping, and just holding the phone up was more than a task for him, but he needed help so he continued. “Alex, how are you feeling, are you showing any symptoms?”

Alex thought a minute, his head was pounding. This was more than he could deal with, he thought, yet he was here. “I have a bad headache, but that’s normal. Other than that I feel fine.” He felt foolish complaining of a headache to a dying man.

“When was the last time you were around anyone? Try and remember, even if it was just a quick trip to the store.”

“It’s been at least 4 days, the day my brother left. I went to the store for smokes.” He answered.

“That’s great Alex, you have been spared.” John choked. Although his entire family was dead, and he too would be following shortly, he meant it.

Alex had always been kind in their brief talks over the years. John knew he was troubled, he drank too much, and listened to heavy metal music to loud. John also knew that if ever there was a problem; Alex was the first one at his door to help. He thought of the time his wife was hospitalized for two weeks due to complications with her pregnancy. Alex had done all his yard work, made sure his trash was taken out, and came by at least once a day to see if he needed anything. He thought to himself, not everyone would agree, but I couldn’t have picked a better person to survive.

“But everyone else is dying, what am I supposed to do?” Alex was trying to stifle his audible sobbing.

“Listen to me Alex, God doesn’t make mistakes. You have been spared for a reason. There will be other survivors, not everyone will die. The people who survive this must ban together and help each other. You must go and seek them out.” John spoke, as reassuringly as his failing health would allow.

“What about my brother, I can’t leave, what if he comes back and I am gone?” Alex began to feel dizzy, thinking he would surely pass out. He closed his eyes waiting for it to pass.

“Alex, you should write him a letter and tape it to the door, tell him you have gone to find other survivors and that he should do the same.” Replied John, he then added, “He will find you, if he makes it, he will find you.” John thought this is not the time for sugar coating.

John began to throw up uncontrollably, he fell to the floor with a bang, leaving Alex feeling hopeless, not being able to help. Alex waited for quite a long while, but could still hear John gasping so he remained on the line.

“Alex, you still there,” gasped John, winded but still alive.

“Yeah, I’m still here,” relieved to hear John’s voice, even as desperate as it sounded.

“Alex I want you to take my truck. Grab my camping gear from the shop and get out of here,” he then hesitated, before saying, “but I need a favor first.”

“Anything John, just ask,” quickly replied Alex.

“I want to be with my family in heaven. Suicide is a sin, being merciful is not.” John had more despair in his voice than Alex had thought possible before now.

“OK John,” he answered before what was asked, had had time to sink in.

“Out in my shop is a gun safe, take everything in it, if not for protection, you will have to hunt.

“Are you sure this is what you want,” praying he would say no.

“There is no one else to ask, all our neighbors are either dead, or they left.” Then as an afterthought added, “those that left are most likely dead as well.”

“I will do it,” God only, knows how, he thought.

“Alex after you are finished and ready to leave, set fire to the house. I can’t stand the thought of my family rotting away like this. The fire will kill the virus.

“John, I wish this hadn’t happened, I am scared, and I am so sorry for what has happened to you guys.” Alex cried.

“Listen Alex, you will be fine, and what happened was not you’re doing. The signs were there all along, but no one thought it was possible. You are a good man; I want you to get away. Go west; get somewhere where there are no buildings and no people. Take all you find with you and start over, but don’t forget us. Tell your children what happened, so they will know better than to do what we have done. Alex, remember this was an attack. Sooner or later the ones who did this will show up, if they survived.” John was becoming delirious from the pain, and was barely audible now.

“John I will never forget you and your family, you had what I’ve always dreamt of having.” Alex was crying again as he said this.

“You will go on to have beautiful children, and you will be a great father,” whispered John through his own tears.

John gave Alex the combination to his gun safe, and told him where he had his spare key to the shop hidden. After telling him where he’d be in the house, he hung up the phone. He could no longer breathe without serious pain and talking was something he’d never do again.

Alex went into the shop. He felt as if he were dreaming all this, for surely this couldn’t be real. He opened the safe, took out a rifle. He loaded it with bullets from a fresh box stored neatly at the bottom.

He found the spare keys to John’s truck. On the key ring was a picture of John’s little girls, forever frozen in time. Their smiles encased in the plastic picture holder his wife had given him. The sight of those little girls, so happy, so far away from where they were now made fresh tears well in Alex’s eyes. Maybe it was John’s words, but at that moment Alex felt a strong desire to be gone from this place.

He only took one gun, he’d come back for the rest of the things shortly. He had something to do. He went into his house and got a cigarette and walked back outside. Slowly he skirted the lifeless bushes, it was still very cold and they had not yet awoken from their winter slumber. He slowly approached his neighbor’s home and made his way around to the master bedroom’s window.

Clearly he could see John through the window kneeling on the foot of the bed praying over the bodies of his wife and children.

Alex slowly raised the rifle to his shoulder; looking through the scope he targeted John’s head. He knew that if he hit him anywhere else or merely wounded him that John would lay there suffering even more than he was now. There would be no way to enter to complete the task without getting infected. The rifle shook in his inexperienced hands. He was sweating despite the cold, he attempted to steady himself, then prepared to fire.

“God help me please,” he squeezed the trigger expecting this to finally be over. Nothing happened; he went weak in the knees nearly falling to the ground. “You gave your word to your friend, now do this!” He demanded of himself.

Surprised at the authority in his own voice he checked the rifle and realized the safety was on. He raised the rifle once more sighting his friends head and slowly squeezed the trigger. As if he knew it were time, John raised his hands towards heaven. The report was deafening, it appeared to Alex that in death John had embraced his family as he fell forward. His friend would no longer suffer.

The sound had scared Alex; he stood for a moment with silent ears ringing. Suddenly he became stricken with the fear that he must be having a psychotic episode. If he had hallucinated all these events, that meant he had just murdered his neighbor. He waited barely breathing like a deer in headlights. He was expecting at any moment for his neighbors to come running down the road screaming, “Murderer! Murderer!” This he even pictured in his mind.

After five minutes or five hours he did not know, there were still no sirens, no police, nothing at all. He was all alone.

Aloud he said, “This is such a small town, if everyone here is dead, then everyone must really be dead.” His own words chilled him.

He stood frozen a few minutes more then slowly walked back to the shop. He began packing what he needed into John’s truck.

He checked every house on his block, yelling from a distance but there were no replies. In a few windows he saw that the corpses of the old and young were indistinguishable from one another. We are all the same in death he thought, just bodies. He could see from the distorted faces that several had died in pain, he felt a twinge of guilt. Then he whispered, “What was I to do shoot everyone on my street? A sane person wouldn’t be able to handle that.”

He wrote his brother a lengthy letter explaining what had happened, and detailing where he planned to go. Then he burned every house on his street except his own. He climbed into John’s truck and drove to the end of the street and just sat and watched the fires. He hoped and prayed someone would see the flames and come, no one did. After an hour of waiting, he left the place he had called home for over twenty years. He never saw it again.

Ter’Mari

(This is a novel I began writing about a year ago and I have fallen in love with my main character. It is based on a friend of mine. I do hope you enjoy it. This is my first project of this type, so I began a bit unsure but I am happy with how it is unfolding. This post is the first 50 pages so it is a bit of a read. I have sidelined this project due to life but I am itching to complete it. I’d love to earn my biscuits by writing but as of yet that dream is not my reality. 🙂 I would appreciate any critiques you’d wish to give, good bad or otherwise. Please forgive the editing mistakes I write quite a bit but I find myself lacking in the editorial department. Thank you. -JM)

Ter’Mari

The light stung Ter’Mari’s eyes when the ancient lady in waiting entered her chamber. The air was still and cold this morning and the thought of a long arduous day placating the squabbles of this corner of the grand king Vilathorn’s kingdom was daunting at best. It was her duty as Lady of House Tiernon. How she longed for the days her father would take her flying over the hills and valleys of the subterranean expanse he ruled. He was gone now and she would honor his name and the sigil of her house; yet she felt troubled as if some impending disaster loomed just out of sight. Hers was one of the most ancient names on the entire planet. There were 343 original settlers to their world. Every child knows this story.

Of the original there were 123 women and 220 men. More than half the men had been sterilized by the poisons which clogged the failing atmosphere of the once glorious earth her ancestors had been from. She thought it odd they called their planet earth. She never understood why they hadn’t named it something pretty. She had watched every film and had examined every picture in the archives and she thought it had to be the most beautiful place in existence. “Earth is dirt mommy.” She had blurted to her mother as she told the story to Ter’Mari no more than five at the time. This received affectionate laughter from both her mother and father.

The men were mostly picked for their knowledge and trade backgrounds and the women were picked based on virility. They had after all been sent to begin a settlement. The texts say that many more ships had been built and were all sent throughout the galaxy to planets which had shown the greatest promise for sustaining life. The settlers had named this new world Copious. It was overrun with game and edible vegetation. To speak that name aloud in Ter’s time was considered taboo; it was believed to be a bad omen.

The old lady busied herself straightening the room as Ter’ pulled the covers over her head and pleaded, “Ten more minutes, sweet Bondy?”

“Sweet miss you’ll miss breakfast if you dally long.” Bondy’s angelic voice echoed through the rafters.

Bondy was the oldest person on their world and Ter’ was all too aware that she too would soon be gone just as her parents were. Bondy was a rarity and had been discussed in great detail behind closed doors during the monthly meetings with all the planets leaders in Vilathorn’s palace. The scientists wanted to study her to see why she had lived longer than anyone else in 400 years. Ter’ already knew the answer and despite her position no one seemed interested in her explanation. She wasn’t a scientist and people of science do not wish to entertain the whims of a mere aristocrat. She felt it was more a matter of pride.

A thousand years after her people arrived on this once verdant planet their sun had begun to die. There was wave after wave of solar radiation. Thousands died and many others suffered severe injuries. Her people fled into the deep quarries, mines, and caverns. The mines and natural caverns provided insulation against the onslaught but thousands more died from malnutrition and exposure. There hadn’t been any warning and they weren’t prepared for such a disaster.

They had survived and they adapted to the subterranean world she had known all her life. They had all the cumulative scientific knowledge of the entire earth at their disposal and all that they had gained in the thousand years before the “darkening” they had come to call it. It took several hundred years before the sun went dark and this had given them time to harness the energy of the planets core itself. The scientist believed that it would be many more thousands of years before the star they circled collapsed and destroyed the entire solar system. This was what bothered Ter’ most. They knew people were dying far too young and that eventually all their descendants would parish in a great cosmic event.

She was almost always furious following the council meetings regarding the fate of her race. She knew better than to openly voice her agitation. To disagree was acceptable but not loudly or passionately. To do so was considered common and anyone acting in such a manner would be drummed out of their position and would be shamed publicly. Her father had taught her to cool her temper before her anger destroyed any chance of making a difference.

Bondy had asthma which further confounded the scientists. They couldn’t grasp how someone with such a debilitating illness would outlive even the healthiest people many years her junior. Ter’ knew it was her father’s doing that had kept Bondy healthy and alive all these years. She was nearly seventy and the next oldest person was forty-two. Bondy had worked for house Tiernon her entire life. She wasn’t a slave or a servant. There were no servants or slaves on Ter’s world but everyone who was able was required by law to work. If you reached age fifty you were relinquished of your duties and then the whole would support you until you passed away but when offered retirement Bondy blurted “Who is goin’ mind that youngun and warsh your shirts Mr.?” That’s all she ever called Ter’s father was “Mr.” but she loved him like a son and her heart was broken when he died. It was her job ten hours a day five days a week and she made it very clear that she was going to keep doing it until she was 150 if the good Lord let her live that long.

Knowing of her condition she was tasked with maintaining the house. The air quality had grown increasingly toxic over the centuries. There were hundreds of engineers who spent tireless hours attempting to filter the air but as the population grew the life expectancy began to falter. Then the populace began to show an increasing sign of respiratory ailments. It was a growing trend and this Ter’ knew had to be alleviated. Her father had fought tirelessly in an attempt to convince the king that each house needed its own air filtration working in conjunction with the massive filters scattered throughout the caverns. They just weren’t doing enough. That’s why Bondy had lived so long even suffering from asthma because she hadn’t set foot outside of Tiernon manner in three decades.

As a child Ter’ abhorred the manor thinking it a prison more than a home until she were old enough to realize her father keeping her in doors was why she was so much healthier than the other children her age. Her father had been an architect and engineer before taking over his mother’s seat as Lord of Tiernon Manor. In his years he had designed and built many working scale models of the air filtration units. There were four purifying the air in Tiernon Manor. It was the cleanest air on the entire planet. Not even the king had such a luxury.

As she thought of her father and her mother she felt an ache in her heart. How she missed them both. Her father spent his entire career as an engineer attempting to better the quality of life for all and her mother a doctor had spent hers treating the afflicted. They both had spent too many years outside in the bad air and had ultimately succumbed to its effects. Even the years inside the manor attending matters of state couldn’t reverse the damage his lungs had suffered. This made her angry but she couldn’t let her emotions get the better of her. How foolish their great and wondrous king was. “Nothing but a fool!” She wished to scream but she was a lady and ladies didn’t behave in such a manner, “At least not when in the company of others.” Her father had told her with a wink and smile, just weeks before his death.

These were the things running through her mind this cold morning. There was no going back to sleep. She checked the time and realized she had been lying there thinking for over half an hour. She jumped from the warmth of her bed into the chill of her frigid chamber. She was slim and very athletic. She knew living in this house with her father’s inventions keeping the air fresher than anywhere else had been almost unfair to the people she resided over but there was no helping it. She did all she could to take the children with the worst asthmatic symptoms into her own home. It had become quite crowded in Tiernon Manor. She didn’t mind the company and she didn’t like waste. She would do anything for these people she could.

She knew that even if she took in every child in the quadrant that would help but it would only be a drop in an ocean and it was only a temporary solution. It was these times she felt the most overwhelmed. To her the dilemma was clear as well as the solution, the purifiers. Or was it? An old memory came flooding back it was something her father had said to her mother when she was just a girl as she sat playing with her toys and singing as she loved to do.

It was his tone that caught her attention and they didn’t notice the singing had stopped. She climbed into an oversized arm chair and peered into the sitting room with her ever inquisitive bright blue eyes and quizzically watched the exchange. Her father never got angry and he never raised his voice so to her seven year old self this was a sight to behold.

“They just won’t listen to me. You know how Vilathorn can be! He thinks all is well and will not hear any sense on the matter. Damn his stubborn pride. At the rate we are going the average lifespan will be five years old in another hundred years. Five year olds don’t have children. You’re a doctor; you know this as sure as I. There is only one solution. These air purifiers they are refusing to use would only be a temporary deterrent. These fools will see us all dead and buried and all the while they’ll sit up in that palace kissing each other’s royal asses with big smiles on their faces.” He paused and turned but little Ter’ was too quick, she ducked low before he saw her. She was astonished. She had never heard her father use such language or say such things about the king.

She sat very still hoping she had not been seen and after a few tense moments she heard her father speak again in a much softer solemn voice, it frightened her because when she braved another glance she saw tears on his cheek. “Dear wife please forgive my outburst. I know you understand how grave this situation is. Only a fool would think differently. You spend your days tirelessly treating these poor children and the sad truth is the only respite they shall receive is death.” His voice broke on the last word and it was then she noticed the tears flowing down her mother’s cheeks. The sight of her mother and father both in tears and the talk of death frightened her worse than being punished for eaves dropping. She ran to them crying her bright blue eyes brimming with tears.

“Oh my sweet darling Ter’ I am so sorry you were not meant to hear that.” He held her close a moment and then he gently sat her on her mother’s lap. She too coddled the frightened child.

Her mother hadn’t spoken or commented during her father’s monologue. It wasn’t until Ter’ was drifting off to sleep had she broken her silence. “The ship.” Ter’s mother died less than a year after that night. She had spent too many long days breathing in the toxic air and like all the others she had died far too young.

Ter’Mari looked into the large floor length mirror. She wore only a nightshirt and had it not been for all the company in the manor she wouldn’t even be wearing that. She just enjoyed being naked especially when she slept at night; clothes made her feel restricted. She let the billowy shirt fall to the floor and purveyed her reflection with that same quizzical expression with which she examined everything new or unusual. She turned this way and that. She knew the men found her beautiful but that meant nothing to her. She wasn’t interested in a man. Her main and only concern was the survival of her people and nothing else. Once she found a way to fix this then yes she wanted a husband and children but she wouldn’t have them living in a hole like the moles she read about from her ancestor’s world.

Her hair was light and most unusual because everyone’s hair was dark; even her own parents had dark hair. They said she was a blessing when she was born. “The sun haired child with sapphire eyes,” they had called her. Her eyes were one of her most exquisite features. They were a blue that hadn’t been seen in millennia. Her eyes seemed to glow and were always the first thing anyone noticed about her despite her many attributes. Her skin was extremely fair as all the rest of her kin having never seen the sun. Her body was lightly toned and this too she found odd because not one other person appeared to be as healthy as she was. Everyone from the king to the lowliest sanitation workers ate the same food. Everything was shared yet she seemed to be the only person who physically prospered. The only difference is the air she breathes. She was twenty two years old and other than when it was necessary she remained inside Tiernon Manor.

She spent a great deal of her free time with the children playing games and teaching them to exercise. She had learned a great deal from her mother about physical fitness as well as from reading the ancient archives. She felt alien looking in the mirror. It wasn’t until she began digging in the archives had she seen anyone who even came close to resembling her. Other than her pale skin she looked just like any other girl from earth. She cut her hair in the fashion of a woman she found in one of the ancient digital magazines. It was short and she never let it grow too far past her ears in spite of being told more times than she could remember that she should let it grow long. Long hair bugged her and she hadn’t let it get long since she was young.

With one last glance in the mirror she began to dress. She was completely stressed and more so than ever, she was not looking forward to her duties as Lady Tiernon. All that kept repeating in her mind was her mother’s sad voice, “The ship.”

2

She entered the chamber which served as the hearing room just off the main foyer of the grand entrance to Tiernon Manor. The entrance was a sight to behold. There was a twenty foot hand chiseled sculpture of a friendly looking dragon that greeted all who entered. On either side were matching stair cases which rose over forty feet. The thing that impressed Ter’ most, even as a child, was the fact that it was all carved out of solid rock. Her father had very patiently answered all her questions as she would follow him around the huge manor.

“How’d they make this daddy?” She would ask with wide eyed wonderment. He had in great detail explained the history of the manor to her. She gasped when he told her it had taken over ten years to complete and later there were additions carved into the stone walls expanding it even farther. “Daddy, that’s more years than I am old.” He had laughed at this. Tiernon Manor was over a thousand years old. There were thirty-four rooms in total of which twenty two were bedrooms. Each and every room besides hers and Bondy’s were now occupied by the worst asthmatic children from Ter’s quadrant. She filled all the other rooms as well. Word had spread and each and every time someone sought out refuge for their child she would find a bed and a place for them.

She had always cherished her time with her father and shadowed him from the moment he returned home in the evenings until she would fell asleep in a little chair he kept by his desk in his study just for her. He knew one day the desk would be hers and he prayed that his efforts would make her life better.

She was jerked from her reverie as the large metal doors creaked open and the procession of plaintiffs began to shuffle in. She dispensed with formality during these proceedings. She had no desire for the pomposity of the great palace or even her peers which controlled the other quadrants. No, she was a matter of fact in her rulings and in almost every case she could easily find a happy median which would satisfy each party. For this she was widely respected.

It was during these hearings she spent a good deal of time observing her people. She didn’t feel superior to the men and women before her. She felt that each and every person was just as valuable to the survival of her race, maybe even more so than she was. It saddened her to watch the effort it took for some of them just to explain their problems. A man explaining a property dispute had begun to collapse and it was the person he held the grievance against which saved him from falling on the hard stone floor. These acts of kindness were common amongst her people. They, even when at odds, took care of each other. She loved them all for this. She needed to do something. She must do something.

The day carried on like each before and despite her anxiousness to do what she did not know, she listened intently and passed judgment as fairly as she was able. She noticed the time and realized she had been holding court for a solid six hours. She called for a break and directed everyone to the kitchen for lunch and refreshment. She was an extremely generous person. During lunch she didn’t eat she only had what passed for water. It was bitter and all she had every known but she couldn’t help but feel there must be something better. She wondered what real fresh water tasted like. She had seen it in pictures and in the archived footage. It must be absolutely wonderful she mused.

Ter’ was lost in thought. Why had that conversation come to her that morning? Why after all this time had she remembered now. She couldn’t shake this growing feeling of uneasiness and impending doom which had taken hold of her. After an hour break she returned to the hearing room which in a few hours would be housing twenty sick children as they rested for the night. She was relieved to see that there were only a dozen more cases to hear and she could get back to worrying. The thought brought a wave of distress on her and she quickly began the proceedings to temporarily block these negative feelings.

Just as she was finishing up with the last case she heard the door slowly creak open and to her surprise it was Lord Mendleson. He was one of her peers from the western most quadrant. This was a great surprise he must have travelled for four days to get to Tiernon Manor. He like Ter’ had one of the ancient names and by reputation he was kind and generous. Ter’ hadn’t ever talked to the man outside of the council chambers and never about anything other than official business. Mendleson never argued but when she had tried to explain why Bondy had lived so long he hadn’t openly dismissed her comments. He had seemed interested but had kept quiet due to his colleague’s negative comments.

Mendleson’s quadrant was in far worse shape than Ter’s. She knew the air quality in the west was far more toxic due to mechanical failures following a seemingly minor earthquake. It had collapsed the thermal vent which powered the air purifier which was deepest in his part of the kingdom. There was no rush to aid the westerners and to this Ter’ had spoken up and offered aid but as per usual was dismissed. “They can fix it.” This was all the fool king had said and the issue was discussed no more.

Mendleson was a scientist before he took his seat as lord of Mendleson Manor. His specialties included metallurgy and electromechanical engineering. Ter’ remembered several late night meetings between this man and her father. She never thought much of it at the time. Being a child she was more focused on the adventures of a child. She felt all that was about to change.

Mendelson stood quietly at the rear of the chamber patiently awaiting an audience with Lady Tiernon. She approached as the room began to clear. “Welcome to Tiernon Manor Lord Mendleson.” She gave a slight bow.

He grinned and returned her halfhearted curtsy. “Why thank you Lady Tiernon.”

“Perhaps you’d like to join me in my study?” She offered.

“Certainly,” Mendleson quietly followed Ter’ up the stairs and down the long hallway to her father’s study. Her mind raced faster with each step. What could this visit mean? Perhaps he wants to discuss the air purifiers? That was the only probable answer she could conceive. Once inside Ter’ took her place in her father’s ancient chair.

Mendleson sat across from her and as an afterthought stood and quietly closed the door to the chamber before returning to his seat. This act caught Ter’ by surprise. Her imagination began to run wild. The anticipation was nearly more than she could bear. Patience had never been Ter’s strong suit. Her father had on numerous occasions told her, “Good things come to those who wait my sweet impatient daughter.”

Mendleson could see how anxious she had become and at this he grinned, “Your father told me of your impatience. I can see he was not wrong in his description nor was he wrong when he told me of the goodness of your heart. You are the most loved of all the Lords and Ladies of our world. You’ve filled your home with the infirm and this has not gone unnoticed. If that fool king we have would have been half as wise as your father we probably wouldn’t be in such dire straits.” He paused a moment.

His words had shocked her. Other than that long ago night she had never heard anyone speak badly of the king. “Lord Mendleson I don’t understand.” His comments had only added to her anxiety. She was nearly bouncing in her chair by this point.

“Please Ter‘Mari, if I may, I’d prefer if we dispensed with formalities I find it quit droll and pompous.” He grinned as he spoke. “Your father told me you feel much the same way.”

She knew then that this man and her father had been much more than colleagues, they had been friends. Ter’ decided she liked him as well. It was quite odd to hear someone of such a high position speak in this manner. “I didn’t know that you and my father were so close.”

“We spent many years working together. We spent countless long days as young men laboring on those damnable air purifiers which do little more than prolong our people’s suffering. Then as Lords of the realm we worked ever so tirelessly attempting to fix the problem with the toxicity levels in our homes.” He paused briefly; his skin was paler than usual even for someone who’d spent forty one years below ground. He began to cough and the sound made Ter’ cringe. She ran out of the office to get him a drink. The coughing had passed when she returned a few moments later but the strain it had taken was visible. “Thank you.” He said gratefully as she handed him the water.

She knew the signs all too well. Her father had coughed like that. It was a scenario which was being repeated by many at that very moment all throughout the subterranean kingdom. She knew this man had maybe six months tops but only if he remained in the pure air of Tiernon Manor. “You could stay here. The air here will ease the coughing fits.”

“My dear child you try so hard to save everyone don’t you? “ He looked at her with a sad knowing smile that made her feel uneasy. She imagined that perhaps his visit had nothing at all to do with the air purifiers. “You can’t save them. Not even half. I am most saddened to tell you that you will only save two dozen if you are lucky. I am sorry it has to be me to tell you this. I feel like the executioners errand boy. I’m guessing you thought I was here about the air purifiers but I am not. I am here to impart the greatest secret of our people on to you as your father passed it to me nearly twenty years ago. Dear girl I am here to tell you about the ship.” He could see the light of recognition in her eyes.

“The ship? I woke with that thought in my head this morning. I was thinking of my mother and father and I remembered them talking and yes my mother had said, ‘The ship.’” Ter’ was nearly overwhelmed. What ship? She couldn’t get the words out.

“You’ve read the archives of our ancestors and our history from the time they landed here. You know of the darkening and the death of all life on the surface but there is a second history unknown by all but a few. There have never been more than ten people who’ve known about what I’m going to tell you at any given time. Our king was not deemed worthy to know what you are about to hear.” He began to cough again but far worse this time and she realized that she had been wrong. Six months was a far too optimistic guess, this man wouldn’t last the month.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Although her question was sincere she knew there was nothing that could be done.

He waved her off and after a few more grueling minutes the coughing stopped and as he gained his composure he began again. “After the darkening and we fled below the surface some of our people decided that we needed to find a way off of this planet. Others argued that we could survive indefinitely below ground. Humans were not meant to live in holes. We evolved on a planet with sunshine and fresh air. This is no life. Yes it’s all we’ve known since birth but just look in a mirror. You my child were a blessing because it was your birth that changed it all. Your father was a brilliant architect and engineer, this you knew but he was so much more. Your father was also an incredible inventor and rocket scientist.” He chuckled as her jaw went slack. Ter’ had the funniest dumbfounded look on her pretty face. He couldn’t help but enjoy the moment. Then he resumed with a more serious tone. “He worked himself into and early grave so that you my dear wouldn’t have to. Ter’Mari you were the catalyst that drove him and in turn drove us all to finish a secret project that has been underway since our star went dark.”

“That was nearly two thousand years ago.” She stammered.

“Yes child it was. This project was kept secret because of fools like our great king. They felt safe below ground. They ignored the data the scientist had gathered before having to flee and leave their equipment. We had been here nearly a thousand years and so many restrictions were put on our advancement because the people in charge believed that we would end up destroying our atmosphere the same way we destroyed the earths. So there was no advancement in some areas of science at all. They preserved the ship which brought us but the components were cannibalized for other projects. They left only the hull but thank the Gods someone had the foresight to save the schematics.” He paused. He was terribly winded and needed to catch his breath before he triggered another coughing spasm.

She softly spoke. “My father built a ship?” She was asking herself more than Mendleson. “So these people secretly began an aerospace program?” She remembered that when her father would take her flying it was always late at night which she never found odd at the time but it made plenty of sense now. “He was testing his ship and teaching me to fly wasn’t he?” She let slip out louder than her earlier question.

“Yes child. More than anything he wanted you to not be afraid of flight. Remember when he told you the craft was broken and he couldn’t fix it? It was needed elsewhere. We were testing various alloys for the hull of the ship and your little bird was a perfect test craft. We tested fuel mixes and hull density. We had the schematics for a fully functional spacecraft but we had no clue how to build the individual components. So we experimented. We’ve lost good people to accidents. You must understand we knew it could be achieved but we had no definitive instructions on how to do these things. A great deal of our scientific information brought from earth was lost during the solar radiation storms. We had to all but start from scratch. The fools tried so hard to make this planet a utopia that they stifled any chance of escape if something went wrong and regrettably it did.” He paused briefly.

“How many people can we take with us? Where will we go? How long before we can return to get more people?” She was growing more and more excited having forgotten Mendleson’s earlier words.

“I told you Ter’Mari if we try and put any more than twenty-two people on board then there is a chance that none of you would make it to your destination.” His expression was grim.

“Well ok then we can only take twenty-two at a time. That’s not the greatest but we will just have to make more trips.” She was ever optimistic.

“Ter’Mari I need you to understand that this is a one way trip.” She began to argue and he cut across before she could get a single word out. “When our ancestors set out on this journey it was understood that it was one way and one way only. There was never a plan to go back or to ever try and join up with the other settlers strewn across the galaxy. I am afraid that this is the case here Ter’.” He watched as her already troubled expression grew even dimmer.

“The men and women who came here traveled for forty years. They were young when they left and they were rotated in and out of cryogenic stasis. So in a period of forty years they each only aged ten. The ship we’ve built is exactly like the ship that brought them here only much smaller. One of the major obstacles was that we had no raw materials with which to build. The proper alloys needed to build such a machine were very rare on this planet and the fact that the surface is now uninhabitable and incapable of supporting life made gathering these materials that much harder. You couldn’t survive on the surface for more than a minute unprotected.” He could see she was on the verge of tears.

“These purifiers weren’t an experiment for our survival were they? They were prototypes for this ship?” She couldn’t continue for fear of completely breaking down.

“Yes my dear. You were picked to be our representative on this mission. There is something more I have yet to tell you. First let me explain as to how and why I know what I am about to tell you. Your father kept these things from you knowing your impulsiveness would have you jumping head first into this project. He knew that your heart would end up being your undoing and in an attempt to save everyone you would not even be able to save yourself.” The words burned her and he saw it. “I am sorry. If you can save twenty-two then twenty-two you must save. It’s a hard fact Ter’ but it is the truth. Since the start of this secret endeavor we’ve had many triumphs and many failures. The earlier members tried with some degree of success to start settlements on the surface. Many lives were lost and many resources were expended but they did eventually manage to build a fortified settlement. It was quite small but from inside they were able to observe our star.

This fool king and his ilk have clung to their facts and say that we have many thousands of years before the end but I am sad to say the end has already begun. There were twenty two planets in this solar system when we first left the surface. When the first settlement was built there were twenty-two. In your short life time seven of the twenty-two have broken apart. Since the darkening it would seem our orbit has slowed. The seven planets which have been destroyed are closer to our star and had quicker orbits. The earthquake that collapsed the thermal vent in my quadrant wasn’t a random occurrence. It was just the beginning. The earthquake coincided with the destruction of the planet closest to our orbit. Each year our star grows denser and it’s slowly pulling our planet as well as all the other planets closer to it. Our calculations show that in six months and four days our planet will be in the same orbit as the seven already destroyed planets. It is our belief that we shall share the same fate.”

3

Lord Mendleson was given a room after a bit of jostling around of some of the children. He looked a haggard mess as Ter’ bade him good night. She saw the look of death on his face. It sent a chill down her spine she fought to conceal. It was a look she found was easily recognizable once seen on the face of one you hold dear. She almost felt bad for the relentless questioning she had given him. She wanted to know everything about this ship they had built. She couldn’t conceive of only saving twenty two people.

He had informed her that there would be a crew of seven plus herself and the rest would be the healthiest children from their world. This was unacceptable to her saving only fourteen children, but she had learned to keep her objections to herself. Ter’ quietly thanked her father. She knew that this man would not be alive at the launch so she would be the ranking official over the project and she was going to find a way.

It was late but there would be little time for sleep now. Not with so many little lives at stake. She went down into the recesses of Tiernon Manor to her father’s old workshop. There was a terminal with access to the palaces data base. She needed information and she needed it now. She was aware that all access logs to the main terminal were monitored but she was known to access random information at late hours when she couldn’t sleep it was never questioned.

The first thing she downloaded was the original mission files for the ship which had carried her people three thousand years ago. The next were random files pertaining to that time period. Files she had no interest in but she wanted to make her downloads to appear random. Her next important files were the last surface aerial maps of the original city they had built just before the star had begun to emanate the dangerous radiation. Then along with that she downloaded many other non-essential files. If there were inquiries she would just say it was for teaching purposes; she did have a house full of children. Yes the files were for them but not in the way she would make them believe.

She knew that Tiernon Manor sat below the old coliseum built in the style of the romans so she had a reference point to start from. There was so much to do and so little time. She knew what she had in mind was improbable and there was a chance she wouldn’t live through what she intended but she had to know. Was the original ship still there? How badly had the millennia damaged it? Was it salvageable? She was certain that even if she located the ship there would be no real way to fix it in time but she had to know. She would try until the last second and if only twenty two made it off this planet, twenty one would be children with one person to fly it.

She had no intentions of keeping a seat for herself. She was Lady of House Tiernon and no one on this planet save the king himself could question her word. Mendleson assured her that she would be apprised of all the pertinent data regarding the mission the following week when he returned but at this she scoffed. “You just told me about my father’s secret project and expect me to sit here waiting a week to learn more. No sir! I am coming with you.”

Despite his many arguments and misgivings about his already odd behavior having come so far in his condition without a royal decree, she refused to budge. He quickly learned when Lady Ter’Mari of House Tiernon had made up her mind there was no changing it. She didn’t know how to accept the word “no.”

They left together the next morning under the guise that Ter’ wished to see the conditions of the west and its people. Bondy knew better. When she had come in to wake Ter’ she was shocked to find her awake and packed for a journey. Her bed was not slept in and Bondy realized it was time. Bondy with tears on her wrinkled cheeks embraced Ter’ with a strength Ter’ didn’t expect. Ter’ was caught off guard and her cheeks were soon moist with her own tears.

Ter’ began to speak but Bondy hushed her, “Sweet miss I know where you are going and I know why. Mendleson’s presence here will surely be noted by now. I am most certain Lord Rasten sent an emissary to the king the moment Mendleson arrived to recharge his caravan and to take rest. That means the king knew Lord Mendleson was coming here before he crossed our threshold. There will be inquiries and you know how big a fool Vilathorn is. His father and his father before him were thought to be the biggest fools that palace had ever seen but Vilathorn proved them wrong. A bigger fool has yet to be born!” She spat the last sentence and Ter’ couldn’t suppress the giggle it elicited.

“Oh dear Bondy, you’ve kept this secret too? How long have you known?” Ter’ was quite curious as to why even her lady in waiting knew what she had not.

“My father spent his entire life trying to perfect the fuel for that ship you’re about to get on. He’s the one who brung your father in on this project. He died in the pursuit of this mission and you my dear will see it through. All our hopes rest with you now sweet miss.” She hugged her again and walked out of the chamber.

Ter’ sat for a moment stunned and quickly she leapt to her feet and ran after Bondy. “Bondy please, do you know what is going to happen? Do you know about the seven planets? I can’t leave all these children behind! How could anyone expect me to be so cruel? How am I expected to choose so few from so many only to leave the rest to perish?” Ter’ was as close to hysterics as Bondy had seen her since she had become an adult. The sight of the bright eyed girl with so much love in her heart to be nearly crippled with grief nearly made Bondy cry out in pain.

“Oh dear child, yes I know all too well the plight we face. I can’t imagine what your heart must be feeling and I swear if I were a younger woman I’d bear this task with you but I am old sweet miss and my time like most of us here is coming to an end. Your dear father.” Bondy got stuck on the words and needed a moment to gain her composure before she could go on. “Your dear father knew you would not be able to accept taking so few. He even expected that you’d give up your place so that another could survive. I beg you for your mother and father’s sake go and if there is a way to save more, find it. But please sweet miss go. Your parents spent their entire lives making sure you were healthy. The men and women they are sending with you will not survive the journey. They are to get you going and to keep things in order as long as they are able. You miss are meant to survive because the young ones will need you when you arrive to keep them safe. You noticed even as a child you were different, healthier than all the rest. You stood out but that was for a reason. You’ve been given supplements your entire life. Your father and mother put everything into you. You’ve eaten better and lived better than anyone on this planet. Everything from the day you were born until now was all for this trip. It is what they wanted for you.” Bondy was growing winded, Ter’ helped her to a chair on the side of the corridor.

“It is unfair to put this all on you. From a small child you have been educated in our history. Yes all children know the basics but you are the first child ever to sit and read directly from the royal data base. Your father always smoothed over the access violations claiming he was doing research and there was naught else said. It was all for you. You needed to know our history as well as that of our ancient ancestors because if our race is to survive it will be you to make it come to pass.” Ter’ stood there, tears drying on her cheeks, red eyes glazed over shocked at all Bondy had just told her.

The trip was long and slow. On the third day they stopped at house Reston and to their surprise Lord Reston was not there to greet them. Lord Mendleson’s caravan only consisted of two vehicles each powered by ancient batteries that needed recharging only after two hundred miles. They were told to have lasted a full thousand miles on a single charge when they had been new many ages ago. These were even a luxury to the royalty of this subterranean tomb. The thought made her shiver, but she couldn’t shake it. Each face they passed on the king’s road further enforced her sad conclusion. All these people and all they love will soon be gone. No it’s no tomb, they will not have the dignity of a tomb they will be ripped apart and flung into space along with this god’s forsaken planet. She quietly wept not wanting to arouse suspicion from her driver. She was in the second vehicle and Mendleson in the first as per custom. She must act as a Lady and not give any sign that something was amiss.

Lord Reston had left word that Lord Mendleson be given every courtesy of his home and despite the generosity of House Reston both Mendleson and Ter’ felt uneasy about his absence. She knew they had nearly two full days left before they would be free to speak without unwanted ears nearby. The suspense was taking its toll on Ter’. This was obvious to Mendleson and he said only one thing in regards to their deception. “Two thousand years Ter’, you can survive two more days.” He grinned and made no more mention of their true intent.

As they supped the two spoke only of living conditions, water treatment, and air purification. Each certain their every word was being recorded by Reston’s all too eager staff. They made haste with departing house Reston as soon as they had each feigned a nap. They were more concerned that the batteries were ready for the last leg of the journey. It was 382 miles from Tiernon Manor to Mendleson Manor and they each intended to make the trip as quickly as possible.

The workers they passed on the road haunted Ter’. They all work so tirelessly for our survival completely oblivious to the impending doom of this planet and everyone on it. “In it,” she nearly scoffed aloud catching herself as she noticed the driver watching her over his shoulder. “Lady, are you well?” He asked innocently.

“Yes, sorry just thinking aloud is all. I have a great deal on my mind.” She scolded herself quietly; she needed to keep it together. She had never felt so torn in all her young life.

To the relief of Ter’ they could see Mendleson Manor in the distance. It was truly a sight to behold. She had never traveled to the west in all her years but she had seen pictures. It was carved completely in the side of a great wall nearly 300 feet high. She had studied the diagrams of the great elevators which rose all the way to the grand courtyard nestled at the very top. Massive artificial lights had been installed which were used to grow the algae the people in this quadrant survived on. She had never known anything other than these algae and wondered if it tasted the same to others as it did to her. Bondy’s words echoed in her mind. “Supplements,” She had read of such things in her studies and almost surprised herself as she started recounting all the things she did know about food and harvesting. Facts she had tucked away in her mind never really believing they held much value. Hadn’t her mother been extensive with her education of things she felt were unnecessary?

The responsibility of education was bore by their parents. If your father were an engineer then you would be an engineer. It was only the royal families who had any choice in the career paths they chose. Her mother had been a Buren far from the south and had studied medicine and botany from the time she was a small child. She had married her father when she was only 16 and he had been 15. Royals only married royals and that was a tradition that went back even before the darkening. A great deal of their history was lost as her people fled the radiation but it was believed the king descended from the captain of the ship which brought them here but those records had not been completely salvaged. Names were augmented over the generations to give them a more royal air but Ter’s father had assured her their name is the same as our ancestor who boarded that ship three thousand years ago. Ter’ had set out at one point to find out the names of the crew and passengers of the ship which brought her ancestors over but it was incomplete. She spent weeks going through the data until one day she found an entry that sent her flying up the stairs and through Tiernon Manor raving like she had gone mad.

She had to suppress a giggle at this memory. She had only been ten at the time and as excited as she was her father wasn’t home so her excitement had to wait. She had found Bondy and for the next hour as Bondy prepared their dinner went on and on about Ensign Matthew Tiernon. She had found proof that yes her ancestor was definitely on the ship and he was a crew member.

To her surprise the caravan drove right into the great elevator and before she knew it they were rising quite rapidly towards the summit. The pictures hadn’t done justice to the immense size of Mendleson Manor. She felt like one of those ants she had studied as a child. She felt tiny and insignificant in the face of such a massive structure. The driver casually spoke. “Impressive isn’t it, it was under construction in one form of another for over 300 hundred years. It is the tallest structure on the entire planet”

Ter’ already knew this but she smiled acknowledgment at the driver just the same. Ter’ was extremely impressed as the elevator rose she became dizzy watching the people grow smaller as she ascended. She had to look away. The driver noticed and smiled at her. She thought he was attractive; more so than most of the men she encountered. He had to be in his thirties and already showing signs of the illness that all eventually fall to. Despite his warm smile her heart sank and she knew he was just another who would soon parish in the great cataclysm.

At the summit they drove through the seemingly endless algae fields and after five minutes they had arrived at the entrance to the great hall. It had a carved archway with intricate patterns which appeared almost delicate in design. She thought if her mission weren’t so dire she could spend days wandering this place admiring the ancient stonework and beautiful carvings.

At last the trip were through and she was about to start battering Lord Mendleson with questions until she saw the state he was in. They hadn’t stopped in hours and though he hadn’t looked well from the time he arrived at Tiernon Manor he looked far worse now.

“My dear Lady Tiernon, please forgive an old man.” Ter’ thought a forty one year old calling himself old was ludacris but isn’t that what he was, old? Bondy nearly seventy could run laps around this poor soul. “Perhaps I was hasty in my misgivings about your visit. It would seem the hour is later than I had thought. Your impertinence it seems has served us well. I doubt I could make that trek a second time.”

“Take your rest kind sir I am certain your attendants can see to my needs.” She was worried. He seemed to have aged ten years since they set out. She wondered if he would make it through the night much less the week.

“We’ve much to discuss. As soon as I am settled I will send for you.” With that he left aided by two younger men neither of which were the picture of health. She felt tightness in her breath; it had started not long after they passed through Reston’s lands. It was if the air was heavier here and she supposed that maybe that and not just the height had made her dizzy.

She was guided to a luxurious guest chamber where she quickly settled in for a nap. Despite her excitement she was truly exhausted and she knew she had better rest while she was able.

4

Ter’ woke to a knock at the door. It was the handsome driver, he was all warm smiles. He brought her an iced pitcher of water. This she graciously accepted. She had awoken with an acrid smell in her nose and her tongue seemed to have soured in her mouth. The attendant noticed the way she gulped the bitter liquid and spoke. “It’s the air here Lady Tiernon I am sorry for the discomfort. It has grown worse at an alarming rate.” His tone was sullen and Ter’ thought perhaps even sad. Did he know?

“Once you are ready I’ve been instructed to take you to Lord Mendleson’s private dining chamber.” He turned and dismissed himself.

“I need just a moment.” Ter’s mind was racing and her heart was breaking. She had known of the destruction to come for five days but she could not combat the distress she was feeling. No, her distress had not abated but had only grown exponentially worse. To her every minute was a waste and yet here she sat on this bed wishing she could pull the covers over her head and forget the world as she would do as a child when she had been upset or frightened at a noise in the night. She stared at the closed door and realized for the first time in her life that she was terrified. It was a feeling as alien to her as she imagined bathing in real water would be.

The fear wrapped around her squeezing all that was good out of her. She felt she’d never know joy again. “God’s Ter’ you have to get up and do this. What would people think if they saw you sitting here cowering on this bed like a child?” She mocked herself and in doing so she found strength in one word, “Child.” From somewhere in the pit of her stomach she felt a stubborn burst of courage and she could have sworn she heard her father sigh as he did when she did something that made him smile. “The children,” she spoke aloud as she rose.

Lord Mendleson to her dismay looked no better than at their last meeting. Ter’ hadn’t considered the air when she had thought of his returning. He looked bad at Tiernon Manor but here he looked down right ghostly. He quietly spoke with a strained but pleasant smile, “My dear Ter’ your offer to stay at Tiernon Manor was a great temptation I must admit. It seemed I had reversed the effects of this accursed toxicity. It would seem my condition has advanced further now than it was when I first departed. It was as your mother had surmised. It was her hypothesis that once exposed for too long there would be no chance that the body could heal itself. It seems that clean air can at least alleviate the symptoms briefly but not stop the deterioration.”

Ter’ had tears in her eyes. She had witnessed the two people she held most dear die in this manner and even though she hadn’t had the time to get close to Lord Mendleson she truly liked him and couldn’t stop the tears. “I am sorry.”

“I’ve no doubt you are my dear but a difference it does not make. My lungs will fill and I will go like all the rest.” He weighed what he was preparing to say knowing it would sting Ter’ but the time for coddling had passed. “Just as your mother and father and everyone I’ve ever loved and everyone they loved.”

His words did have an effect on Ter’ but she hadn’t flinched. He had made no offense he had only spoken a cruel and tragic truth. The air was a worry for the dead not the living. That time had come and had passed and though they had tried all they had managed to do was keep their people alive like moles in a hole. No one had lived in over two thousand years. They had only survived. Ter’ began to speak but caught herself and nervously looked at the man who had apparently been assigned to her. Mendleson noticed and grinned, “Ah sorry this is Lanon he’ll be aiding you while you’re here and he has been apprised of our situation. He’s been an extremely helpful addition to our efforts. We’ve broken more than a few of our oldest rules regarding the ship. A necessary evil when haste is the priority.”

She surveyed Lanon in her trademark fashion and at her piercing gaze he began to fidget and blush. She jerked away when she realized she had been staring far longer than she had any right.

“I imagine you two will be spending a great deal of time together the next few months. You have many things to see and even more to learn Ter’. Lanon is going to help you.” Mendleson began to cough like before but this time he wasn’t able to stop. Lanon shouted down the corridor and more men rushed in and carried him away on a stretcher like the ones her mother had used. Like the one her mother was placed on when she died and just the same as her fathers. She couldn’t shake the chill this brought on.

Lanon could see the distress the scene had caused her and he made an attempt to console her but she waved him off. “I’m ok. Let’s get to work.” He led her through passage after passage moving deeper and deeper into Mendleson Manor and after ten minutes they arrived at what seemed to be a blank wall with passages heading in three directions. Ter’ thought without a guide an intruder could get lost in there for hours. It was like the Minotaur’s labyrinth she had read of as a child. Lanon looked left, right, and then back the way they had come and as she was about to ask he pushed in a concealed panel she hadn’t even seen it had been so cleverly carved.

The air was the first thing she noticed. It wafted out around her in a cool rush. It was fresh and she reveled in it. They quickly stepped inside and the large stone door banged shut. It was quit ingenious. She recognized the craftsmanship; it had been built in much the same fashion as the massive elevators.

As ingenious as the door had been to her nothing had prepared her for what she saw as she passed under a skillfully carved archway leading into a massive chamber. The fresh air had made her a bit unsteady on her feet but the sight of the massive craft was far more impressive than anything she had ever seen.

Lanon gripped her elbow as she nearly fell. “Lady Tiernon please be careful, we need you.” She had indeed nearly toppled over staring nearly straight up at the behemoth craft. She placed her hand on his and held it a long moment as she continued to gaze upward. She had seen the photos of the ship which had brought her ancestors to this world but she couldn’t fathom what must have been sacrificed to construct such a craft on a world with nearly no access to natural resources.

She became aware that she was touching Lanon and a it occurred to her that she had never touched a man other than her father and the occasional accidental brushes but she had never even so much as held a man’s hand. Lanon’s hand was course and rough against the soft flesh of her palm. His touch was warm and before she realized she was no longer focused on the craft but was staring blankly across the cavernous hall only thinking of his touch.

She flushed as she looked up into his eyes, “Ter’, please call me Ter’, and thank you.” She slowly removed her hand from his and immediately longed to touch this man, pull him close and press her lips to his. The flush worsened as they started towards the back of the hall where a group of haggard over worked men were preparing a sparse meal and talking quietly. She couldn’t shake the desire Lanon had woke in her. She felt strange almost alien in her own skin but she liked what she was feeling. She had to focus on the task at hand; that was to save as many children as she could. Everything else had to wait.

The men almost hadn’t noticed as she approached. Once aware they all leapt to their feet. “Lady Tiernon they all spoke nearly simultaneously.” They each gave a cursory bow.

“Please, let that be the end of this pompous drivel. My name is Ter’Mari, and I prefer Ter’ so please be done with all this Lady and bowing nonsense.” Her comment almost seemed to confuse the men as if it was a trick and she found their reactions more than she could handle and began to laugh so loudly it echoed all around them.

Ter’ knew that to see a “Lady” act in such a manner must have been a sight to witness for people who had spent their entire lives kowtowing to Ladies and Lords. They adhered to ancient customs she felt outdated and foolish but she had been a servant to tradition her entire life just as they had been.

She caught her breath and coughed a few times then cleared her throat. “You guys really need to learn to relax.” It was a phrase she had picked up, as a child, from an ancient text about a young girl who solved mysteries. She had ran around Tiernon Manor using it on all she encountered enjoying the silliness of the sound of her own voice.

To this some of the men actually began to chuckle. “That’s better,” she beamed at them. None of the men present had ever met Ter’ but they knew right away that the choice they had made had been right. If she were to be the legacy of man they wanted someone who would be a kind and fair leader. Ter’s parents had trained her and had spent her entire life preparing her even without Ter’s knowledge but a decision still had to be made. The project had been worked on for many generations and many had given all to aid in its progress. Her father knew this but he had been right in knowing that she would be accepted because she had a mind for business and a heart for the people. Yes his daughter would lead as many as she was able and he had every faith that she would be successful. The others with a vote had agreed with Lord Tiernon and everything had been geared towards Ter’ leading the mission.

“Captain, if I may,” The voice came from a man wearing a strange silvery suit which she immediately recognized from the archives. It was a space suit. The man couldn’t have been more than thirty five but the lines on his face said eighty. “I’m Arnon; I am in charge of getting this ship in the air and off this planet.” His eyes were stern and she could see this man was all business. She felt like a child again. She felt she was about to get reprimanded for being disruptive during one of her mother’s many lessons on botany. The reprimand hadn’t come but she now knew what Alice must have felt as she fell down the rabbit hole.

“Captain,” she said befuddled. She hadn’t realized she was going to be the first captain in three thousand years. Vilathorn would be thrilled, this thought made her grin. “Yes Arnon, let’s begin.”

Ter’ spent the next six hours going over the ship with Arnon; she at several points had to stare in wonder at the sheer capacity of this man’s brain. He seemingly knew everything about everything. He too had marveled at how Ter’ absorbed the information as quickly as he could recount it. Ter’ was surprised at how much she knew about the technology. He father had been an integral part of the design team and she had studied engineering under his tutelage for nearly her entire life. Ter’ was an extremely brilliant designer in her own right. She had for fun built many gadgets and she had built twice as many more beyond the assignments her father had given her.

Now more than ever her seemingly directionless education made sense to her. They were training me to survive on a ship for a very long time with limited resources. She understood how to maintain and operate the air purifiers. The algae hydroponics system she could have built by the time she was eight. The only truly alien component to her on the ship was navigation. This Arnon made clear would take her months to truly grasp and she showed no signs of distress at this news only an eagerness to get underway.

She had paused as the thought of how selfless her parent’s actions had truly been. She had been trained in medicine, botany, alchemy, engineering, electronics, hydroponics, ceramics, and many other things she had found funny but now they all seemed to make sense. She felt her cheeks warm and her eyes begin to moisten. She could see her mother’s ceramic work on some of the larger electrical components. They had used these ceramic parts as insulators.

Arnon noticed Ter’s reaction and quickly he understood. “I loved your mother and father as if they had been my own family. Sometimes it is hard to look around this ship and see the work of so many I cared about. Good people who are no longer here to see their work come to fruition. All I can say is that they did this for you and for the survival of our race. This ship was built by love and paid for with lives. You remember that and you tell your children their stories. Remember us and live that is all we ask.” Such sweet words from this stern man caused Ter’ to let a few tears fall but his words had instilled her with a purpose.

Arnon busied himself for a moment on an open circuit housing allowing Ter’ a moment to gain her composure. They continued their tour after a few moments. Ter’ was silently keeping a running total and estimate of everything that she could remove from the ship without effecting its operation. This she kept to herself, she would inform the rest once she were fully prepared with a plan of action.

The tour concluded with the inspection of the small hangar bay which held the small plane her father had taken her up in so many times when she were a child. It was decisively different than she remembered. Arnon noticed her deep interest in the changes. “This bird has been built and rebuilt over twenty times. It has been to space.”

“My father,” she began but was stopped.

“No, it was Lord Mendleson’s son Elton.” Arnon replied with a grave expression.

“I never met him. I heard he died in a fall exploring the forbidden caves.” Ter’ replied.

“That’s what was publicly announced, but there was a faulty seal. He began to lose compression, it was a small leak but it was enough. Although he managed reentry the damage was already done. He is a hero; with his dying breaths he saved the ship and landed just above this structure where it could be safely retrieved.” Ter’ listened intently as Arnon had conveyed the story. How many people had died for this over the millennia she was afraid to ask but she must know. A history must be kept. She will never let anyone forget what had been done and sacrificed by so many for so few to live.

“Vilathorn called Elton’s death a foolish act and refused to have a royal burial at the palace which has been tradition since our time began here. Lord Mendleson has never forgiven him this trespass. Elton did more for the people of this world than the past two dozen kings combined. They care for nothing but their serving girls and that damnable paste they consume.” Arnon nearly spat the words and quickly regained his composure, “Lady Tiernon, please forgive my vulgar language.”

Giggling Ter’ countered, “Oh no dear Arnon, anytime you wish to make me laugh at that fools expense feel free. I encourage vulgarity whenever I speak of our most humble King Vilathorn.” She bowed low as she spoke Vilathorn’s name and at this Arnon couldn’t stop his own laughter from escaping.

5

Ter’s brain was nearly overloaded by the end of the day. After Arnon had completed the tour of the ship she began to pour over the records which had been kept for generations but were noticeably more focused in recent decades. She gleaned the older records but found little that would aid her in her ultimate mission.

The records of her father’s involvement were what she was most concerned with. They hadn’t even begun construction until fifteen years ago. Luckily the predecessors had taken to stockpiling whatever materials could be salvaged from the surface and the rare deposits sometimes found in the forbidden caverns. The caverns were unsteady and prone to collapse. The caverns were ordered forbidden many generations ago by one Vilathorn or another for whatever whim they had at that moment.

It hadn’t thwarted the efforts of the ship builders. That’s what they called themselves in secret when really only those involved in the past fifteen years had an actual hand in building a ship. Ter’ noticed that these men though content and seemingly happy were extremely serious about their work. They were healthier than most she encountered and they worked nonstop.

There was no end of the day or beginning of the day for them they just worked while they were awake and if they needed to rest they would rest. They worked like no men she had ever seen; tirelessly and selflessly. She had been glued to the data viewer where they had meals for nearly eight hours. She had to stretch and eat. She was famished and realized she hadn’t eaten in days. She saw a makeshift cold cabinet in the corner. As she opened it she was surprised to see that it was actually working. Arnon happened to notice her curiosity. “It’s something isn’t it?” She looked up smiling as in answer to her query. “This is the system for cryogenics. At least this was one of your father’s miniature models. We’ve expanded but it’s taken a combined effort and over fifty years to perfect this technology even with instructions from the ancients.”

Ter’ was impressed it was as advanced a piece of technology as she had ever seen in person but yes she had studied cryogenics as well. “I always pondered why I the daughter of a Lord in a subterranean kingdom would need to understand cryogenics. So much makes sense to me now.”

After a quick meal of algae and water she buried herself back in the archives. She stayed glued to the screen until her eyes betrayed her intent and she were no longer able to force them open. She slept. She dreamed of strange moons with clouds of red and green. She saw animals unlike those from the stories and history lessons, but these seemed to be from a surrealistic nightmare but there was no fear in her dream. There was no fear in her. Even as she slept she felt her purpose, her mission, and her destiny were divine and that neither hand of man nor claw of beast would sway her from her duty.

Ter’ jumped up from the table ready to fight some unnamed horror from her sleep only to find herself standing alone near the giant ship. Her viewer tipped over and her things were scattered about the floor. She had believed she were alone but just as she began to right her viewer she saw Lannon approaching. The sight of him excited her. She felt a wave of passion flow through her body and the closer he got the more she ached.

“Lady Tiernon, are you well?” He was earnest in his asking. She could tell he was a kind soul. Despite very little conversation on the trip from Tiernon Manor he had not let an opportunity to address her wellbeing pass. His constant coddling made her feel cherished.

“Ter’, please call me Ter’.” She wanted him so badly and she didn’t care that royalty didn’t mix with commoners. All she knew was this man before her was all she wanted right now and nothing was going to stop her from having him.

“Yes my Lady, as you wish.” He started to bow and she reached out and grabbed his shoulder to stop the motion. He was strong and despite looking sickly before the oxygen rich cavern seemed to refresh him. He no longer appeared sickly but virile and healthy.

Yes she wanted him and in the face of certain disaster and her current situation who would stop her? “No one,” she whispered aloud as she wrapped her arms around Lannon’s neck and kissed him deeply. Her first real kiss and she enjoyed it more than she had ever imagined. Lannon did not try to stop her. He had wondered since the second he had lain eyes on her what it would be like to kiss someone so beautiful. He was frightened of her. To him meeting a Lady who carried herself and spoke in such a manner was akin to seeing an actual angel walking down the king’s road. She was an anomaly and he was already in love before she had pressed her lips to his.

“Take me to my room please.” Ter’ had decided and when Lady Tiernon made a decision it was set in stone.

Ter’ made her intentions clear when they reached her chambers. She did not speak, she only guided him through the doorway by the hand and once the door had closed she again kissed him deeply. He stood almost stunned watching as she disrobed. Lannon’s eyes were glued upon Ter’s and he too let his tunic fall to the floor. They each in turn examined the others nakedness. He had never seen a woman so alive and healthy. There were other beautiful women in Mendleson Manor but in comparison to Ter’ they no longer existed. He knew that she had been trained and nourished far better than any other and he could see the results before him.

Ter’ felt her face catch fire as she traced the naked man in front of her with her eyes. Her breathing was deeper and she could barely stand the heat rising up from inside. He seemed to be chiseled from pure white stone. Each and every muscle stood out. She could see he needed to gain a few pounds but to her and for her he was perfect. Her eyes went lower and Lannon could see the look she quite often gave things she was studying and he also began to flush.

Ter’ noticed his nervousness and reached out to him. He joined her on the bed each lying quietly staring into the others eyes. Ter’ broke the silence first. “I am sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I have never seen a man unclothed before.” As she said this she felt a bit embarrassed. “Have you been with a woman?” She asked timidly.

“I was married but I lost my wife to the cough two years ago.” He had a solemn air in his voice.

Ter’ using her hand traced the outline of his face. Yes he is handsome she thought. She rubbed his chest tracing the lines his muscles made below the skin. She was growing more curious and anxious with each touch. Lannon was still quite nervous by what was happening. He other than his wife had never wanted someone so badly in his entire life yet he was frightened to touch her.

She sensed his hesitation and she guided his hand to her lips where she kissed his fingers and smiled the sweetest smile he had ever seen. The look in her eyes and the desire for her overcame his misgivings. She may have been inexperienced but she was no child. Ter’ set out with the same overwhelming passion she applied to every aspect of her life.

Ter’ dozed wrapped in Lannon’s arms that night. In the morning she woke to find him dressing, but she pulled him back into bed naked. She was not yet satiated. Ter’ knew sadly what was to come. He would not be allowed on the ship and even she couldn’t argue taking a man who may be irrevocably ill in place of a child who might have a chance.

As they lay together naked she realized that she had never felt this kind of closeness to any other person in her entire life. Two things occurred to Ter’, she loved this man and she would have to leave him to die. She cried silently in his arms until she fell back to sleep.

Lannon gently rubbed Ter’s shoulder. It was far later than she had intended sleeping. She rose slowly and wrapped her arms around his bare chest. She was shaking and he could hear her soft cries. Lannon knew why she was upset but he also knew he couldn’t allow Ter’ to lose focus on the mission at hand or their people would be doomed.

Ter’ began to speak but Lannon silenced her with a kiss. “I know beautiful why you are sad but there is no reason. I have had too many years in the bad air. This state I am in is nearly magical. I could barely breathe before I was brought in on this project. If I stayed two weeks outside this oxygen rich environment I would be choking on every breath and within two months I’d be bedridden. Your mother wrote the book on this condition I am certain you have read it. Not all follow the path but I am a very typical case. Following your mother’s pathology I have six months to live. Lord Mendleson is not so lucky. He will not live to see us launch.”

Ter’ knew that what he said was true. Her mother had “written the book,’ and there was no denying the inevitable fact that even under the best circumstances he would be gone before the year was out. She did not fight the tears which came. She knew that no one would have the chance to cry over him when the time came so she would let him see her love for him while she could.

“This is love?” She asked Lannon rhetorically and quickly continued, “This is love. How can it be I meet the first man I have ever loved only to get a few months with him? The god’s cruelty knows no limitations.” Her tears had stopped but the look of sadness never left her eyes as again she guided Lannon to her. Despite all that had to be done she pulled him close and as they indulged in each other’s passion she whispered I love you.”

7

Ter’ and Lannon’s arrival to the lab that afternoon had gone unnoticed. It was the way they functioned. Each man had a special area of expertise and toiled many hours alone. Being from a subterranean world it was easy to mix one’s days and nights. Ter’ was deep in thought. She hadn’t been descriptive; she had only said she had some ideas that needed to be discussed.

“How much faster could we work if each man had a twenty man crew under them?” She said to Lannon without ever removing her gaze from the ship.

“The progress would definitely increase exponentially but we mustn’t let that fool king get wind of what we are doing. He’ll have the castle guard at our door ready to shut this all down.” Lannon answered cautiously.

“The castle guard is a joke Lannon. Those fat fools wouldn’t make it a mile much less the entire march to Mendleson Manor.” Ter’ smiled as she told him this. Lannon laughed at her irreverence. Yes he knew there were no other women like her on the planet and he guessed even if every ship had survived the mass exodus of ancient Earth that there could be no one like her in the entire universe.

Lannon set out on his usual duties. He was more or less the glorified gopher of the project but his services were priceless. Each and everyone loved having him around. He wasn’t trained as royalty but he had worked with engineers his entire adult life and was one of the most mechanically inclined people Ter’ had met. He was adept at problem solving. His ability to look at things and not reference a text as she had studied with many unavailable options to her, he referenced his experience and looked for practical ways to solve the issues at hand with available resources.

Ter’ wondered had allowing only royalty to study been a dramatic hindrance to her people? “This is one rule that will be abolished if I am going to be the one to start over for our people.” She blurted aloud and jerked a little in her chair startling herself. She looked around to see had anyone heard her. She whispered, “They would think me mad.” Then she giggled.

Lannon had seen her busy in her work and thought it best to give her a wide birth not wanting to distract her. She did not eat when the others ate she was oblivious to their chatter as she worked. Her plans were ambitious and more than a little dangerous. She knew in council her ideas and plans were readily dismissed but here she hoped for a better audience. She was new and had a fresh set of eyes. Perhaps she could come up with another way that could save more lives.

That night it was her who found Lannon. He was busily insulating wire couplings by hand. It was an arduous task and he took his work very seriously. This was his go to position when not busy with the requests of the other workers. She hugged him from behind and as she laid her head on his shoulder he closed his eyes and savored the moment. They were very much in love and even Ter’, whom was a slave to her wild imagination, even found the situation a bit logically unsound, was blissfully happy for it.

“Can we go now?” Ter’ asked coyly and without words Lannon rose and kissed her forehead and took her hand and pulled her towards the door. She loved how he looked sat her. His gaze made her feel alive like there was no wrong in the world and that everything was going to be ok. She knew this to not be true but then and there as he smiled down at her she promised herself that no matter what she was not going to let her sadness overwhelm the time they had together.

They showered together in the bitter water. It emanated a smell when heated for the shower. Her whole life Ter’ had held a great distaste for the smell. For the first time she realized as they stood together enjoying the warmth spending far too much time according to a Vilathorn kingdom wide decree that she would miss this smell, she would miss him. Ter’ caught herself before she could let the reality set in. “Enjoy the moment while it’s here.” She spoke softly.

Ter’ could not remember a time in her life when she laughed so much. Lannon was her equal in every way. He was a bit of a smartass just as she was and for someone without access to literature as she had been, he was quite intelligent. They laughed themselves to sleep and lay curled in each other’s arms. The next day they woke earlier. Ter’ had insisted, but still couldn’t resist yanking Lannon back into bed for another half hour before they set out for the day.

Ter’ spent the next twelve hours poring over schematics, maps and lists of the workers in Mendleson’s quadrant as well as her own. The night was wonderfully the same as it had been the previous evening and they woke at the same time and started their day in much the same way, they each had an untamable smile as they parted ways for the new days’ work.

The third day Ter’ spent just as the first two and before she and Lannon fell asleep that night she told him, “Tomorrow I’m going to call a meeting. I’ve spent three days coming up with a plan and let’s just hope they take me seriously.”

“I’ve no doubt my dear that they will not take you any way but seriously.” With that he kissed her and they each slept soundly.

8

Ter’s plan was unorthodox and went against every secrecy rule put in place many ages ago by her predecessors. Ter’ realized that they could proceed as originally planned and save a dozen and that would be commendable but she wasn’t looking for commendable she was searching for a miracle in the texts and from her people. “This needs to be a combined effort or we could all perish.” She said to no one, as she studied her presentation.

She knew that to travel to a new world with so few could be folly. With so few they could easily be wiped out by disease or any number of natural sources even predators. They needed strength to pull off mission success and what had she read somewhere in an old magazine file? “Strength in numbers,” as she said this, Ter’ smiled as the first few attendees for the meeting approached.

Arnon was the last to arrive. He stood ominously at the rear of the chamber they met in. Ter chose it for the lengthy conference table but more so for the large view screen mounted on the wall. Ter’ had designed extremely detailed and intricate plans for what she had in mind. “Please Arnon take a seat this, is going to be a lengthy presentation. I know you have been warned that I may be a bit impulsive but I assure you that if it becomes apparent that any of my ideas are going to hamper our mission then they will be scratched. I’m not up here giving orders. I am up here because as many of you know I was specially trained for this, a fact I wasn’t even privy to. So I beg of you gentlemen a few hours of your time to hear what I have come up with would be stupendously appreciated. I do not mean to stand up here and discredit generations of work and loss. I am a fresh set of eyes and sorry to say gentlemen it is quite obvious none of you has set foot outside this place in ages.” As she finished Ter’ gave them her brightest smile and all were silent except Arnon.

“We are listening Lady Ter.’” Hearing him call her Lady Ter’ made her giggle. She loved the nickname and from that point on it stuck.

She began as earnestly and as passionately as she was able. “I have gone over every schematic and every diagram and in turn, every piece of data on all the test results simulated and actual. No matter what these numbers tell us we must find a way to save more. If I arrive at an alien planet capable of supporting human life there is a good chance other things will be living there too. One adult with twelve children on such a mission could be disastrous.”

Ter’ paused, waiting on the inevitable rebuttal, but none came. So she continued on offering ideas on decreasing the weight of the ship without decreasing stability or soundness. She believed that the decreased weight would allow for more passengers and a larger life support system. Ter’ talked nonstop and she was pleased to notice they all listened attentively and some even took notes. It was silent until she said, “What if we launched the ship empty and use the little ship to shuttle the passengers up. Perhaps we could build another. With help we’d have time?”

Two hours had passed since she began and Arnon as well as everyone else in the room realized that she had just turned their project upside down. Some of her ideas had been privately thought of but no one dared say them aloud. Ter’ wasn’t afraid of anyone, not with so much at stake. It was a matter of survival. She meant to survive and take as many people with her as possible. These forbidden thoughts were out and there was no forgetting them. Lady Ter’ had made up her mind and this was going to happen. She laughed and told Lannon, “I always get my way I was just humoring them by giving them a choice. “ Lannon gave her a quizzical look and she blurted as she began to laugh hysterically, “I was terrified.”

They had broken for lunch and reconvened shortly after. This was the discussion portion and she was still worried about what they would say.

Arnon cleared his throat and the room grew silent. “We need lots of folks you know?” He did not pause for an answer. “There will be repercussions and Vilathorn will come and he will try and stop us. His guard will be in tow and they will attack if we do not give in to his demands.” Again he cleared his throat. “I spoke to Lord Mendleson during our recess and I speak for him and myself both, when I say, To Hell with Vilathorn and his ilk!”

To this Ter’ breathed a deep sigh of relief and sank into her chair, the men cheered. “It’s going to happen.” Ter’ spoke with a single tear in each eye.

The next few days were a whirlwind. It was chaotic but necessary. There were heated discussions and much more laughter than ever before. Ter’ was pleased but growing more anxious with each day. Finally they met again this time out by the ship.

Arnon slowly began, “It would seem that if we built another shuttle designed for passengers and freight we could accommodate eighty passengers but and I say this regrettably there are some major obstacles to overcome. Life support adjustments will be a major issue, cryogenics, hydroponics, as well as fuel consumption, just to name a few.”

“We need kingdom wide cooperation. This is where it gets messy.” She gave Arnon a weak smile.

Lannon arranged a conference call with all four houses. Arnon spoke for house Mendleson. Arnon gave Ter’ an introduction and took a seat in front of his own viewer. Ter’ walked in front of the camera and nervously began.

“Lords and Ladies of the kingdom I have dire news. This planet and all who abide within shall be destroyed in a great cosmic event in less than six months.” There were gasps and she signaled Lannon who began sending the data supporting these horrifying claims. “You can see for yourself it is true. The king will view this is a traitorous act so I ask you to choose carefully how you act. We here are committed to this mission no matter the costs. It is the survival of our race I am concerned with not keeping Vilathorn happy.” There were a few gasps as she finished but she could have sworn just off camera she heard a young girl giggle.

She continued to explain how nothing less than a kingdom wide effort would allow them to succeed. “I trust you as the most highly educated of the realm will see the truth in this and aid in saving if not all at least some of our children. I will contact you each in twenty four hours. If I am not answered I will assume that is your answer and will begin our preparations for what is to come along.” Ter’s eyes were red and she was dead on her feet. The call had wiped what energy she had left out.

The next twenty four hours were going to be the longest of Ter’s life. She couldn’t eat or sleep. She was a mess. Even Lannon couldn’t lift her spirits even though he sweetly tried. Ter’ had given up on sleep and was lying in bed going over schematics passing the late hours as Lannon peacefully slept beside her. Just being near him gave her a sense of peace but the hour was late and even Lannon’s presence was having difficulty appeasing her worries. For fear of waking Lannon she went back to the ship. She needed room to pace and a place to be noisy without disturbing her what? She mused to herself. My lover? At this she smiled and spoke, “Yes my lover.”

She was oddly alone in the hangar. As big as it is you could pass the whole day with ten other people in there and barely see any of them, but it was truly deserted so she was brainstorming loudly and extremely animatedly as was her way. Her father had loved her quirks. He adored how she would find old sayings from ancient earth and use them until she got bored and found a new one to mimic. His all-time favorite he had told her was, “Right on!” It never failed to get a laugh out of him even years after she was grown.

The thought of her father made her feel alone and she couldn’t think of anywhere she’d rather be than curled up in Lannon’s arms. She slept soundly the rest of the night.

22 minutes

22 Minutes

(Saw a creepy guy and this story popped in my head)

 

Twenty-two minutes in the right circumstances could seem like an eternity or in others pass by in a flash. Twenty-two minutes was all Carl had left and he didn’t think it was going to pass by very slowly. He could scream and yell but what good would it do?

He had read stories and seen movies with killers doing what killers do, but this situation was beyond him. This man, if it was a man didn’t seem to be following the script of any normal portrayal of a killer. No, he was extremely unique.

In all the movies and books hadn’t the killer at least created some way to witness his murders? Didn’t he at least give the victim the illusion that he might change his dastardly plans by letting them beg? No this was something altogether different.

The tube, if that’s what it was, was stark barren and devoid of character beyond its harsh rust coated veneer.  From what Carl could see there wasn’t a window or opening of any sort. This he could feel by the stuffiness and the still dead air he was choking down. But why me?

Carl was no one special. He had a few people he didn’t care for but he had no real enemies. He wracked his brain and hopelessly he punched his own leg in frustration. It was all he could do suspended by his feet as he was. Carl wasn’t even sure how he got here. His head throbbed and upon inspection he found a rather serious knot above his right temple.

What this was about, Carl had no inclination. He vaguely remembered the man or was it a man? He had to of been extremely strong to take big ole Carl out like he did. Felled by a single blow?  Carl shook the thought off. Carl figured he must have hit him with a baseball bat or something. No man could do so much with a single punch. Carl was known for his brawling skills and of this he was most proud.

“Twenty- two minutes,” is all the man had said, “Twenty-two minutes you have yet to live.”

When Carl protested and yelled and begged and threatened his cries, pleas, and threats were met with dull silence. The man had left and the door sealed behind him with no sinister laughing or threatening creaks it just shut.

The silence is what cut through Carl’s usual exterior of toughness. Carl felt that no amount of threats or taunts could be worse. He felt the room shrinking around him. He started to pray. He prayed a hopeless sinner’s prayer.  “God, please help me.”

When the man thing had spoken it had been 11:38 and Carl reluctantly looked at his watch. It was hard to make out because Carl’s eyes had blurred from the pressure building in his head from hanging upside down for how long he did not know. It was 11:55 now.

The sweat poured from Carl in torrents. He could hear the drops as they splashed on the metal floor of his prison. Then the door slid open and in the doorway stood the man thing. Carl for the first time caught a glimpse of its face and true panic set in.

Carl felt a lurch as the hoist began to lower him towards the floor twenty feet below. The room went dark. Carl could hear something on the floor below him. Fifteen feet. They were everywhere. Scurrying about. Ten feet. What are they? What are those things in the darkness? He can hear their teeth clicking and their anxious starving mouths. Five feet.

“Feast my children feast.” Now Carl finally understood.

 

The Picture

(I was inspired to write this story by a picture in the office of the CEO where I worked while in college. The picture was of the CEO’s daughter and as beautiful as she was her eyes always seemed to follow me around the room as I worked. This unnerved me a bit and I decided to write a story about it. I hope you enjoy. -jm)

 

The Picture

 

It was bitterly cold when he arrived at work. In his haste he sliced his hand on the old ragged door handle as he was frantically trying to force his key in the lock. Inside dripping blood he tripped over the rug in the foyer of the decrepit office building where he worked. He righted himself and disarmed the alarm with only a few seconds to spare. He was running late and he knew his five minute tardiness would cost him fifteen minutes of pay. Didn’t seem fair to him but who was he to argue.

Johnny was often stuck on what was fair and what wasn’t. It was a mantra he repeated over and over. He repeated it at school where he struggled to stay above a 3.5 grade point average because he worked a shit job for shit money and was barely getting by while all these kids wandered around without a care in the world. He resented them all. “Not fair, not fair, not fair.” He mumbled as he passed them in the hall.

“So why should today be any different?” His work day hadn’t even begun and he had already made things considerably harder on himself. He clocked in on the dreaded Kronos keypad which never seemed to want to read his thumb print. This he felt was unfair. “If you treat your employees like criminals they will act like criminals.” He blurted this nearly every time he would try and fail to clock in.  Several times this prevented him from clocking in entirely. On both occasions his check had been shorted a full eight hours. “Unfair, unfair, unfair!” He ranted to the empty hallway when he opened his checks. It took payroll four weeks to correct the error because everyone was gone before he even arrived and he could never get anyone on the phone between classes.  “Did they care I went three days without eating during exams? No because it’s fucking unfair!”

He often talked to himself in here just to hear something other than the sounds he made as he cleaned. Anything was better than the sounds the old building made. As the weather grew worse the building seemed to become livelier. This he could easily explain to himself. It of course had to be the wind or the old plumbing. He was a smart guy and not prone to flights of fancy. He didn’t believe in the paranormal. He only believed in the here and now but somehow and in some way this building was getting to him.

He noticed after wrapping the jagged wound on his hand that he had gotten blood on the companies teal and white logo printed into the rug in the foyer when he fell. “Unfucking Fair!” he blurted. “Why does this shit keep happening to me?” He was a klutz in every sense of the word. He was only graceful behind a computer screen with his hands on a keyboard knee deep in zeros and ones. He could type in binary as easy as he could in English. It was what he had always been great at but no one would give his resume a second glance without college credentials. “Unfucking fair!”

His hand ached as he hopelessly scrubbed the bright crimson stain. His efforts seemed only to smear it more than anything else. The first aid kit had only small butterfly band aids and they weren’t enough to quell the bleeding so he made a bandage from paper towels and taped it to his hand. “Is anything going to go my way today?” He sneered at the bloody mess on the rug.  He got some but not all of the blood out and this took him over an hour. He knew he’d be hearing about this if his boss decided to pop in unannounced as was his method. “Trying to catch the criminals red handed are we?” He was convinced this was his boss’s only pleasure in life.

He was now over an hour behind schedule and he wasn’t feeling well. The cut on his hand needed stitches but he couldn’t afford to go to the hospital and miss work. He had tuition to pay and books to buy. “Unfair.” He mumbled as he began his rounds.

He begrudgingly emptied the trash and vacuumed the offices but as the night drug on he felt weaker and weaker. He packed a lunch but was to nauseas to eat it and besides he was so far behind he would never get finished on time if he took a break.

It was almost midnight before he started the last hall. “This is where all the big wigs work,” he mused aloud. He followed a pattern which didn’t make much sense even to him. He would avoid the CEO’s office and clean all the rest first. He always saved it for last. This last hallway is what really bothered him about the building. He felt so out of sorts and even on hot days in the summer this whole area of the building was chilly. In winter when the rest of the building was uncomfortably warm from the massive unit on the roof the hallway remained cool and in some spots downright cold, but none worse than the CEO’s office.

It was well after one when he entered the last office. The room was quite homey and warm for an office he thought except for the chill in the room. It had a large mahogany desk with six matching bookshelves and a matching conference table. There were books of all sorts. Many psychology books and accounting volumes mixed with various religious texts. Some in languages he didn’t recognize. One day out of curiosity he did some research and discovered what languages these books were in. There were books printed in Hebrew, Russian, Romanian, Latin, and several extremely old volumes printed in German. He had never met the man who sat in this big chair behind this big desk but he thought he might like him. He was clean and very well organized. From the looks of all the books he owned he couldn’t possibly be dumb like most everyone else he meets.

He spoke aloud, “one day I’ll have a desk like this and my own big office. One day this will all be mine.” He actually smiled and despite his growing dizziness and the ever present throbbing in his hand he went about his duties more cheerfully than he had felt all night. He always cleaned the back half of the office first saving the desk and sitting area for last. There in an ancient silver frame behind leaded glass was a beautiful young woman peering out at him. The frame had to of cost a fortune he thought because of all the ornamentation. There were dozens of crosses hand hammered into the silverwork. The glass itself had tiny etchings all around the border. He tried and tried to make out what they were. He wasn’t sure if the etchings were just a fine pattern or if it were actual script of some kind.

The thing he found most curious about the picture and the exquisite frame was the fact that each time he sees the woman gazing out at him it’s like seeing her for the first time. He realized as he stood there vacantly staring that he had no recollection of it ever being there before but it must have. He remembers cleaning it. He always hand dusted the frame carefully and he was extremely careful when he cleaned the glass for fear of breaking such an heirloom. “Why can’t I remember you when I leave?” He asked the woman.

He felt a sudden chill as in answer to his query and the room grew dim. He felt as if he would feint and he realized as he began to fall that he was holding the frame to his chest. When had he picked it up? Why was he holding it clutched to his chest like a mad man? He fell into darkness. When he woke he wasn’t sure how long he had been lying there. His first thought was panic. He frantically searched the floor but the picture and frame were not shattered on the floor as he feared. He gained his feet and saw it was sitting safely where it had been when he entered. The woman gazed upon him with seeming adoration for his concern for her safety. That thought chilled him deeply.

He noticed his makeshift bandage had torn loose and he had begun to bleed again luckily most of the blood was on his shirt and not the floor. He knew it was late and knew if he clocked out after two he’d get a reprimand so he hurried around the office making sure everything was in place. He adjusted the picture one last time and in doing so he smeared blood on the frame. “Unfair!” He yelled as he ran to the storage room to fix his bandage and to grab the silver polish.

By the time he entered the office he couldn’t remember why he was going back until he saw her and he remembered. “The blood, damn I’m losing it.” He was not at all feeling well but wasn’t sure why a cut would make him feel so bad. He searched the frame front and back and carefully scanned the glass but there was no sign of blood. He couldn’t even find a single finger print on the glass anywhere. It wasn’t just clean it was pristine. It appeared to have never been touched by a human hand.

He gave the woman one last puzzled glance and walked out of the office. He was done for the night and he relished the idea of going home and properly bandaging his hand eating a sandwich and passing out. He grabbed his things knowing it had to be two or a little after and to his horror it was nearly six in the morning.

He had no rational explanation for why he was still at work at six in the morning. He didn’t remember falling and at this point he couldn’t even remember cutting his hand. His entire mind went blank. He remembered checking the time a little after one then entering the CEO’s office cleaning it and that shouldn’t have been more than thirty minutes tops. “Why am I here?” He questioned the empty hallway.

He felt a sharp surge of pain in his wounded hand. He looked at it astonished not remembering how or when he cut it. “I must have a fever. It’s got to be an infection.  Fuck it I’m going to the hospital.”

As was his habit he always checked the foyer before leaving because that’s the first place everyone sees when they walk in. Everything was clean and in order right down to the bright white and teal rug. He wondered how a rug with such bright colors stayed so perfectly clean.

Hospitals were a place of dread for him but he felt so bad he didn’t think he had a choice but to go. Even so early in the morning he had to wait. “Unfair!” He muttered halfheartedly. That’s the last thing he remembered. He woke late that evening alone in a communal room with three other empty beds. He was very confused and completely oblivious as to how he got there.

He found the call button and paged the nurse. “Oh good you’re awake.” came the voice of a very cheery nurse. She was all teeth and smiles. He liked her instantly. “You’ve had a busy day haven’t you dear?”

“What happened to me?” He asked in a hushed tone. His mouth was so dry he could barely swallow.

“Well we were hoping you could tell us. You signed in at about half past six and told the nurse you cut yourself and you might be infected. When the orderly came out to bring you back you were unconscious. That cut on your hand is serious. You nearly bled to death. What we can’t figure out is why you weren’t covered in blood when you came in. Even your bandage was clean.” She paused seeing the quizzical expression on his face then she gave her biggest tooth filled smile yet. “We do appreciate people cleaning up before coming to see us but honey you should have just called an ambulance.” Then her expression still very sweet became grave, “You could have died from losing that much blood.”

“I don’t understand. I don’t remember bleeding.” He had no recollection of anything other than going to work.

“Honey I’m going to get the doctor and he can explain this to you a little better than me. He’ll be glad to see you’re awake.” She smiled and walked away.

He was completely bewildered and confused. Then he remembered school and work and was starting to rise just as the doctor entered. “Take it easy there buddy. You’ve had a very rough day even if you don’t remember most of it.” The doctor was a portly man in his fifties. He had a grace unusual in someone with his stature. Johnny watched as he glided around the bed like he was in some sort of ballet.

“The nurse tells me you are having trouble remembering what happened. Maybe that will come back to you when you regain your strength. Your body has been through quite an ordeal. When you cut your hand you grazed an artery. Perhaps you did it at work thinking it was no big deal but it’s my guess that at some point during the night you banged it and fully punctured the artery causing severe blood loss. I’m not trying to alarm you but had you lost any more blood we wouldn’t have been able to save you. “

“Doctor I truly don’t know how I did this or what happened to me after. I don’t remember a bunch of blood I don’t.” He stammered more confused than ever.

“It’s alright so don’t worry about that now. You’re safe and we are gonna get ya back on your feet in a day or two and you’ll be right as rain.” The doctor turned to walk away.

“My job, school?” He stammered.

“Well I’ll have notes for both for the week. All that can wait, what’s most important is that you’re healthy.” With that the doctor smiled and left.

He found his cell phone on the table next to his bed. He tried calling his boss but he didn’t answer. He didn’t have anyone else to call. His parents were both gone and he had no family nearby. He had no close friends to ask for help. He was alone in this world and it wasn’t until this did he realize it. He had liked plenty of girls at school but it was like he didn’t exist. He wasn’t clever enough to be the class clown and he wasn’t athletic enough to be an athlete. Now in college he is even less noticeable. He keeps his head in his work. He occasionally sees a cute girl but the thought of actually walking up to one and speaking is more than he can bear. “Jesus man you almost died a virgin today at 21 years old and no one would have noticed.” He mumbled to himself and quickly fell deeply asleep.

He dreamt of the woman in the frame. She came to him right there in his hospital bed naked and inviting. It was the most vivid of dreams. He could smell her perfume. He could feel the warmth of her skin. He could feel her lips on his. Greedily tasting him like a predator about to devour her pray. He could feel her nails digging into his skin. He could feel her silky smooth hair on his bare chest.  The dream seemed endless. Time and again she had him all the while whispering to him in a language he could not comprehend yet when it was ending he begged her not to stop. “You are mine now.” She kissed him and simply faded away. He woke with a start nearly jumping out of bed.

“Don’t go!” He shouted as the nurse calmed him.

“It was just a dream honey.” She smiled but her smile did little to ease his panic. “It’s a side effect of the medications we had to put you on.”

He stared blankly at the ceiling for a long moment feeling his heart slow and the sweat evaporate from his brow it was then he felt the scratches on his back and chest. He put his hand to them they stung and burned hot and he saw there were tiny traces of blood. “She scratched you up good.” Aloud he said attracting the nurse’s attention. “Sorry nothing just mumbling out loud to myself.”  He told her. As he dozed off he tried so very hard to remember what he had been dreaming about. The nurse added something to his IV and he slowly drifted off to a peaceful night’s sleep.

He woke to his cell phone at ten the next morning it took him a minute to get his bearings enough to answer. It was his boss and he almost refused the call. What can they do I had an actual medical emergency. “Hello.” He answered in his least cheerful voice dreading what his boss would have to say.

“So you no called no showed for work last night, got anything you want to tell me?” His boss was an ass under the best circumstances but today it was ok because he was safe and his boss couldn’t do a damn thing about it. This cheered him up immensely.

“Yeah I guess. But one question first, did anyone find an unusually large pool of blood in the building yesterday morning?” He knew this would have his boss guessing.

“Well no, should they have? What’s happened?” He grinned, hearing actual concern coming from his boss the hater of all things good.

“Well at some point the night before last I cut myself somehow and I nicked an artery. Apparently I busted it open at work.  I’m having some memory problems from all the blood loss. The doc says I nearly died.” He stopped to see how his boss would answer.

“Did you get hurt here? Cuz if you did I’ll have to write a report.” The concern had faded.

“I just told ya I don’t know how I did it. I can’t remember anything but going to work and leaving work.  But I was extremely out of it. I could barely drive myself to the ER.” He left it at that.

“I’m heading over to your building to see if I see any blood anywhere. I’ll call you back and let you know what I find. I’ll have someone fill your shift.” He abruptly hung up sounding more annoyed with each word he spoke.

“Asshole.” He spouted then went back to sleep.

He slept until late that night. When he woke there were four figures in the room. It was dark and he couldn’t make out who they were. “Hello, what’s going on?”

The overhead lights flickered on and Johnny shielded his eyes. After a moment he could see two people he recognized. One was his asshole boss and the other was a man he had seen only in company newsletters. It was the man with the big office, the CEO of the company he cleaned for. He gave a wary smile and said “Johnny we haven’t met but I think you know who I am.”

“Yeah I’ve seen you’re pictures, I know who you are.” It’s then he realized the two men he didn’t know were detectives. They each had badges clipped to their belts. “Am I in some kind of trouble?”

“Well son that’s what we’re here to find out. When your boss came in my office and apprised me of your phone exchange I was concerned first of all because you said you nearly died. The second concern and forgive me for sounding insensitive, but you said you nearly died at work. So I wanted to find some answers for you and for us. You do understand I have to protect the company and if some crime were perpetrated against you at work we need to find and prosecute the offender.”

Just then the doctor walked in and politely greeted the men and before he could speak Johnny asked, “Doc could you tell them what kind of shape I was in when I got here?”

The doctor explained how life threatening this was and how much blood was lost. He explained that the amnesia of the incident could be a symptom of shock from whatever happened.

One of the detectives spoke up and said we have a video we’d like you to take a look at. He produced a small laptop and started the footage. It was the front door of his building. He watched as he got out of his car and ran to the door and he watched as he cut his hand attempting to open the door. Even from the grainy video you could see blood pouring from the open wound. He could even see the blood spilling on the white rug as he fell. His face felt hot like he truly was in trouble. At this point the officer sped the video up for a moment then stopped. He watched as he spent over an hour trying to clean the blood from the stark white rug sped up to take only moments. Then he fast forwarded the video all through the night. The camera caught a glimpse each time he passed the door. He noticed there were digital markers on the video that automatically paused, each time you could see him by the door.

The detective stopped the video and said this is what we can’t explain.” Please try and remember and tell me if you recognize this person. It’s important. “

He was utterly confused all the video was showing was that he was doing his job. Hurt but still working. There was no one there with him was there? He was always alone in there. “Ok. I’m a little more than confused who are you talking about?”

“Just watch,” said the second detective whom up until this point hadn’t moved a muscle. He startled Johnny a bit.

So this time at the next marker it stopped. He saw as he walked past the door on his way to the last hallway. The marker said 1:23 a.m. Ok here it comes please watch carefully. At marker 1:35 a.m. a figure walked past the door. It wasn’t Johnny. Johnny you could easily see wearing a bright red hoodie and blue jeans. This was a woman but is it a woman? Her hair looked old and mangled and the skin was white and dead like something from a zombie movie. Her clothes were rotted and tattered barely hanging on just as her skin barely clung to her bones.

“I don’t understand? Who was in there with me? Did they do something to me? Did you see their car when they left?” Johnny was actually scared. It truly dawned on him that someone or something took his blood.

The quiet detective spoke up, “son we don’t have any more answers than you do. You sure you don’t recognize her? “

“It looks like a fucking zombie but that shit isn’t real. Is it some sick joke people dressing up like they’re dead siphoning people’s blood?” Johnny was livid.

“I wouldn’t normally show you this but considering the circumstances I will. If I were you I would want to know what I was dealing with,” calmly replied the detective with the laptop.

He started the video again and the thing walked back in sight of the camera and stopped. It got down on its hands and knees and from the video it appeared to be sucking the blood out of the carpet. It opened the door and with a grotesquely elongated tongue licked the door handle clean and crawled across the floor sucking up every drop of his spilled blood.

“What was that?” Johnny was half hysterical by this point. Every man in the room looked uneasy.

“Son we don’t have any answers for you. We have people now checking all local surveillance tapes with any hopes of catching a glimpse of this woman. We took a forensics team and scoured every inch of that building. There was no sign of anything afoul. They took the rug from the entrance to test for DNA and we found yours but the saliva we tested did not come back as human. It’s an animal species not in any database.

Johnny was speechless a moment then broke into angry hysterics. “An animal? An animal that looks like a 200 year old woman sucked out my blood? I don’t believe in this shit! Was it a werewolf or a zombie or a fucking old ass vampire? I don’t even know how to react to this. Am I gonna turn into a fucking dog or a bat?”

The doctor had been present this entire time but hadn’t spoken until now. “Son we’ve sent your blood in for analysis but with this new information I think we need to do some further testing. The problem is we gave you a fairly large blood transfusion so any tests we would do would not be conclusive until the blood has been in your system a while. There are other tests we can do and it might be a good idea to treat you for rabies. If you were infected it is possible the new blood could have hid that from us.”

“Fuck me!” Johnny said and he surprised himself because he didn’t say unfair.

None of the men knew where to go from here. The CEO was at a loss, he didn’t want a story like this coming out turning his business into a circus tent. The detectives told Johnny they wanted to have an officer there in case this was a targeted attack against him personally. That didn’t do much to ease the anxiety he was feeling after having half his blood sucked out by the dog faced girl. At this thought something familiar popped into his mind. Didn’t he know her? Didn’t he love her? But that was a monster that wasn’t the beautiful woman from the frame.

“Oh shit, I know who that is!” He gave everyone in the room a start. The doctor nearly dropped a blood sample he was labeling the nurse nearly dropped his dinner tray as she entered.

The detectives, the CEO, Johnny’s boss and all were all ears. But then he slowly began, “I told ya I don’t believe in all this voodoo shit but who is the girl in the silver frame on the desk in your office?” He directed the question to the CEO.

The CEO looked confused and then said I don’t truly know. I was in Romania a few years back and I found it in an antiques store. The old lady told me it was a witch trap. I thought it was just some old wives tell that helps boost sales. There are lots of old tales in small villages in that part of the world of vampires and demons. I bought it for the silverwork. Some of the finest I have ever seen. Why do you ask?”

“Please just humor me a second would ya. I already feel like the world’s gone crazy please continue and when you’re done I’ll explain.” Johnny was quite shaken but very focused on what he was hearing.

“I was going to replace the picture but I had it looked at by a reputable antiques dealer and he laughed at the thought of me opening it. The only way to get the picture out would be to destroy a 500 year old piece of handmade glass that’s etched with very tiny runes dating back to the time of the druids. So I left it as is. Then he said and I quote ‘would be unwise to release the witch trapped inside. She has 500 years of wrath to unleash. For a true witch can nigh be destroyed, only kept for a while.’” The CEO usually a fairly rigid sort seemed weakened by what he was saying.

Johnny surveyed the room and asked, “Is there more? Did he tell you more? Please it’s important.”

No one protested they had all save the nurse seen the video so the CEO went on. “He then laughed and said yes in those days they would take anyone believed to be a witch and have the best painter available come and do a portrait. For paint they used parts of her body ground up into paste.  You’d be surprised how many colors one can garner when using the human body as a medium. It was quite barbaric. They would take these parts from her while she was alive and in agony she would be made to sit still for weeks if necessary until the portrait was perfect. It wasn’t until then I knew it wasn’t a photograph. When I bought it I had no idea it was an actual painting. So if the painter wasn’t good she might have to sit all hacked up through multiple sessions. He also said from the looks of the frame she must have been considered to be an extremely powerful witch. There were over 200 runes and holy marks on that frame. It must have taken four skilled artisans a full six months to construct. Once the portrait was complete the witch would be slowly tortured to death by whatever means they deemed fitting and all that would be before her was her own portrait. They removed the eyelids and cauterized the wound so she would have no choice but to stare at her own face. Upon death the belief was a witch’s essence could transfer to any other living thing until she found a suitable host.” The CEO knew how crazy the story he recounted was but after what he’d seen and heard today he didn’t think it would stand out much. He concluded by saying, “By forcing her to stare into her own image she would become trapped inside the frame. He said he’s only seen two in his entire life and the first was a fake he offered me $20,000 cash there on the spot but I declined the offer. “

Johnny cleared his throat and thought to himself before speaking then after an awkward pause he began, “look go ahead and fit me for a strait jacket because that thing in the video is that girl on your desk.  I know it sounds completely crazy but my God I am being very serious.”

Everyone looked at him as if he had a third eyeball instantly appear on his forehead. “Listen I know how crazy it sounds. This is Occam’s razor gone mad. Think about it. Occam’s razor basically states the simplest answer is usually the right answer. Ok so something resembling a woman with animal DNA sucked out a bunch of my blood then ran around the building sucking up all the evidence. You tell me that there is no sign of her leaving the building from the security cameras and this guy just happens to have a 500 year old witch trap in his office. I have never believed in stuff like this but you just showed me video of a creature with a foot long tongue that sort of looks like a woman but doesn’t who was alone with me in a building for God knows how long doing God knows what to me and y’all are looking at me crazy?”

No one knew how to reply and as insane as it sounded Johnny actually made sense. They left after a few more mundane questions. They asked to search his car to see if he had lost any blood in there but he hadn’t. It was a dead end. Save for the little on his hoodie none of his blood was accounted for and that disturbed all of them. With a little help from the nurse Johnny fell fast asleep after everyone had left.

She came to him again that night and before she was on him he stopped her and asked “did they really hurt you like that?”

Her beautiful face changed into the grotesque deformed figure they had hacked her into before she died. He could see her swollen red eyes lidless and in great pain. He felt anguish for her. He could feel the fear she was feeling but there was no hate in her. All the malice and rage came from those screaming around her for her to die. She looked ashamed for him to see her this way and her face went back to normal. She wept and curled up with him in his bed careful not to pull out his IV.

“Are you really here?” Johnny asked and she just stared lovingly into his eyes He could feel her as surely as he could feel the stitches in his aching hand. “You are real aren’t you?”

She smiled and nodded “yes I am very real.”

“What do I do?” He was uneasy and unsure of how to feel. He felt what she felt as they slowly tortured her and murdered her. Whatever she was she wasn’t evil or bad and she didn’t deserve that shit.

“I am sorry I took so much of your blood. You were bleeding badly and you didn’t even notice. I was afraid you would die. You always spoke so sweetly to me when you saw me. I needed the strength to heal you enough to get you to help. You’re innocence is what released me at least partially. I look grotesque and frightening. I can’t be fully whole until my portrait is released.”

Johnny looked at her and smiled, “let’s go get you out.”

She stopped him with a kiss, “wait, I’m frightened.”

“That makes two of us, “he smiled and unhooked his IV and hurriedly dressed.

She whispered, “I’ll be waiting for you.”

Johnny slipped out past the guard who was dozing at his post and made a hasty and uneventful escape from the hospital. He hailed a cab and was on his way in minutes. He had the cabby drop him off a few blocks away and snuck in through a storage room he and the other janitors had keys for. There were still cops outside but he discovered he was alone in the familiar hallway he had dreaded for so long. There was an alarm but it wasn’t set due to the police presence so he was lucky on that point.

He made his way to the CEO’s office and was shocked to see the picture was not in its usual position but after a few long seconds he found it. It was on the conference table with empty coffee cups surrounding it. He imagined they probably had a good laugh at his expense.

He held the picture in his trembling hands and spoke aloud to the empty room, “God please be real. I hope I haven’t gone insane. Well here goes nothing.” He took a stainless steel stapler and very carefully cracked the glass below her face for fear he would somehow damage her.

At first nothing happened he just stood there trembling half crazed with anticipation and just when he was coming to the realization that he had gone mad he heard her voice say put me down.  He did as she told him and the frame started to shake and lift off the table. It was really happening. The brightest light he had ever seen filled the room and in the light he could see her distorted form from the video but it slowly changed and she was once again the lovely girl in the picture.

She ran to him arms wide and showered him with kisses. “You saved me,” she had the thickest most beautiful accent he had ever heard. She bumped his hand and he yelped from the pain. “Oh here my darlin, let me.”

She took his hand in hers and a glow began to emanate around his injured hand and he could feel it healing. It itched uncontrollably for only a moment and then stopped. He pulled off the bandages and he was fully healed.

“What’s your name?” He stammered.

Before she could answer they heard them coming through the doors. The flash of light had alerted the officers outside and by now they knew he wasn’t in the hospital anymore. “They will take you away. We have to get out of here.”

His warning came too late. They were nearly to the office and he stepped in front of her. I won’t let them. I’ll think of some excuse I work here.

To his dismay it was the quiet detective and he knew all about the frame and what he had said. They were trapped. He wouldn’t let them take her he couldn’t. “Step away from her Johnny. I thought this whole story was bullshit but you had to see for yourself?”

“You don’t understand she’s not bad, she saved me that night. She didn’t cut my hand that was an accident and if she hadn’t of helped me I would have died right here in this office two nights ago.”

“Johnny if you don’t move I’m going to taze you and I’ll shoot that evil bitch if she so much as blinks!” The detective wasn’t going to budge he was convinced she was evil and nothing Johnny could say would change that. Johnny could see how unfamiliar fear looked on this man’s face.

Before Johnny could speak again the detective tried to shoot him with his Taser but in mid trigger pull a book flew off a bookshelf and knocked it from his hand. It along with the book thudded uselessly to the ground.

“What the fuck just happened?” Shouted another officer Johnny didn’t recognize standing to the right of the detective.

“Please just calm down and stop this. She’s not dangerous. The detective was edging towards his Taser. He slowly picked it up and said, “bitch try that again and you’re dead. “

“I won’t let you hurt him. He set me free. He is my hero and he is mine forever. “Her expression was very calm but her voice was commanding. This frightened the officers even more and again he tried to use his Taser and this time she sent a book from either side of the room crushing his Taser hand between them.

The officer to the right of the detective fired at the girl but Johnny dove in front and took the bullet for her. He crumpled at her feet and she screamed she knelt over her dying love and wept. “I will not let you die my love.”

She stood to her full height and she spoke in a voice which seemed to come from the walls themselves. The officer who fired looked on bewildered and the detective nursing his crushed hand tried to back out of the room. “In nature there is a balance that must be paid. For there to be life there must be death. This man has not wronged you yet your actions have slain him and thus the debt must be paid. From each of you I take half your life to repay the one you have stolen.” With a single flick of her wrist the detective and the officer were encased in the same light which she had used to heal Johnny’s hand but it was much larger and brighter.  She conducted the light with slight gestures of her nimble fingers and directed it into Johnny’s lifeless body.

When he woke he opened his eyes and he saw she had been crying. He smiled up at her and her down at him. “Lilith, my name is Lilith.”