He runs towards the light. The light does not come towards him. He runs for what seems like eternity. He keeps running. He reaches the light, finally. He has never seen a light like this before. It is so bright it is blinding. He reaches for it. He enters the light. He is blinded by the light, it pierces through his soul. And everything blacks out.
. . .
Jim regained consciousness with a thud, literally, a thud. He reappeared in midair and landed unceremoniously on his rump. He sat up, dazed – confused, trying to remember what happened. Jim looked around. He was in one of the most beautiful places he had ever seen. All around him, Jim could hear an orchestra of calls and sounds, it was as if the world was alive around him, vibrant in its’ organized chaos. The smell of the livelihood of it all, the morning dew…the slight breeze carrying the smell…the light morning mist – all these things he had never seen before. All around him, large brown stalks protruded from the ground, with smaller crooked stalks branching out, bearing green stars. The earth under him was soft, yet it felt slightly prickly under his palms. Looking down, he saw leaves and other foliage. But after Jim had taken all this in, he took one last little aspect in: The hulking forms, everywhere, in the shadows of morning.
Jim brushed his black bangs back from his aging face. Jim tried to stand but his lithe form was weak from the weird world-travel.
In the darkness, hunkered, were forms. Humanoid forms. He heard one grunt. It turned towards him. It started to go to him, but its’ head exploded before it could get any farther. As Jim was about to scream, a loud explosive sound resonated throughout the area. Bells rung in Jim’s ears.
“Damn, boy, it look like you sure took a beating from the looks’a’ya.” A voice boomed down from above. “Grab’im!” he shouted. Jim looked up, and there, standing on one of a conglomeration of bridges, was a black man. He looked oddly familiar, but Jim was in too much shock to remember. Instantly, two ropes dropped from some hidden point, probably behind him, and two figures filed down, grabbed him, and pulled him up. He was taken to one of the stalks, except, this time he was on a bridge 20 feet of the ground, where there was another door, this one semi-circular at the top. They opened it, through him in the hollow behind it, and locked it.
. . .
While Jim sat in darkness, he realized two things: He felt rejuvenated, and the fatal gunshot wound was gone. He felt the area where it had hit him – on that battlefield so far away where he had been forced to run at enemy entrenchments, and it felt as good as new. However – the other bruises were not. Jim was contemplating this when the door slammed open. A shadow of a figure loomed in the blinding light coming through. It was familiar. In walked Johnson, he was holding a torch, which he put in a torch-stand protruding from the wall. He was the same man who saved him, but he was also the same man who condemned him. Jim stifled for air. It was the man who had sent him on his final run.
“Whatch’a lookin’ at, boy?” asked the man. One of the same men who had thrown him out of the Golden Capsule came in and set down a stool. Johnson took his seat. “So, let’s start with the question that is right on top of my mind,” said Johnson, “How the hell did you get here? Much less – down there, without getting eaten. How, damnit?”
“I…I…” Jim stuttered. “I don’t know. I don’t remember.”
“Well,” said Johnson as the other man left and shut the door behind them, “tell me what you do remember, if ya’ can, that is.”
And so Jim told him.
. . .
“Ah, so that’s how you got here? Through some light? A door?” Johnson asked, looking sincerely interested.
“Ye-ye-yes…” Jim blubbered. Looking around the room, Jim saw shadows darting this way and that in congregation with the flame.
Johnson broke into a fit of laughing, so much so that tears started to come out of his eyes. “Me…sending soldiers to their deaths…ah…super-civilizations, completely clean?” he said between bouts. He suddenly became stern again.
“Yes?” asked Jim, barely a squeak.
“That’s the biggest load of bullshit I EVER heard!” shouted Johnson. “Now tell me, boy, what really happened. C’mon, you can tell old Johnson.”
“I…don’t know. All I remember is what I told you. I am not lieing,” Jim said, regaining his composure. “What were those things down there?”
“Who’s doin’ this interrogation, boy? I am. So you answer my questions before I answer yours. How did you get there?”
“I told you!”
“Alright, alright, I’ll leave you alone. You’ll tell when your ready. As for those things – they are the undead. They are alive and dead at the same time, and eat others, like us. That is why we are up here and they are down there,” Johnson explained, motioning below and above himself. “As Above, so Below!”
“Alright; Come with me, you have to meet the crew, now, I suppose.” Johnson stood up, rapped hardly on the door, and it opened. Outside were the two men who had thrown him out of the Golden Capsule. He motioned to one, then the other. “Corky and Johan, meet Jim.” They both waved weakly.
“Sir…are you sure it’s a good idea to let some weird guy on like this? He could be…” he said this with disgust, “infected.” Johan cleared his throat.
“Naw, if he was, we’d know by now. That’s why we kept him locked up for a few hours,” replied Johnson.
“Yeah, we have this whole thing under control, ain’t no infects up here,” added in Corky.
“If you say so,” answered Johan.
“Who are you people?” Jim asked at last.
Johnson explained. It turned out they were an elite unit of assassins trained by U.S. and British intelligence to take out Dictators. They had no idea where they were: They were never given that sort of data; they were dropped with a picture of who was the hit. Jim had no idea who the U.S. or the British were. Around that time a plague had hit the world, one that created monsters the likes of the ones below, and civilization as they knew it fell during the mission. They didn’t know how, but it had. They had received no confirmation orders from the President so they had to stay put until they did. They originally had 8 members, but five had died to the plague and they decided to take action. They built the fort, the bridges, even hollowed out the trees. They all hoped to get orders, or even a confirmation of their mother countries existence. They hadn’t.
“Wow.” It was all Jim could say. I really am insane.
“Here, you might need this,” said Corky, unstrapping a pistol from his belt that looked familiar to the one Johnson had shot that other poor soul with back where he had come from. Little did he know: It was a desert eagle, an extremely powerful handgun. Taking it in shaky hands, Jim was amazed by its’ weight. They gave him an extra clip and a docker’s clutch to put it in. They also showed him how to change the clip. “Since you’re the new guy you get first watch of the afternoon.”
“What’s a watch?” Jim asked. Johnson smiled.
. . .
Jim reluctantly paced the many bridges of his new home. He shifted uncomfortably. It was sticky, and hot, and he could see bugs – a thing which was unimaginable in his world – flittering around his face. Jim swiped at them with every chance that he got.
It was getting dark. Corky came out and showed him to a hollowed out tree-trunk room, and Jim noticed something odd: Cloves of some sort of vegetable hanging from the door.
. . .
Jim awoke with a start. He sat up, he was sweating profusely. Jim remembered something: The barren battlefields of the borderlines, Johnson shooting a man, pain in his side… This was the first dream he’d ever had. It wasn’t a good one. The memory was slowly wearing away, the waves of the dream world slowly lapping it away from him.
He looked around his little room: At one end, there was what looked like a toilet from his world, except it was a rectangular box with a hole in it, which he had guessed led to the ground. There was also a table, it was shabby and one leg was cracked. It was made of the same material as the room was. Corky called it ‘wood.’
“What…was…” his voice trailed off. He heard something outside. In his room the torch he was given still burned, so it could have only been a few hours since he had gone to bed…there it was again! It was like footsteps, only lighter, like someone standing on tip toes.
Jim got out of the bed: It was a simple cot, made of the same material as the tree-trunk. It was very uncomfortable, but he didn’t have a choice. He went and took out his desert eagle. He had seen Johnson from his world operate one. Jim held it with what could be called fearing reverence. Jim went to the door, and after a short moment of hesitation, opened it.
Nothing. Just pitch black. Stepping out, Jim looked up. He was immediately lost in himself. The stars shone through the canopy. Cut off in his own little world, Jim barely noticed when something blurred across his vision, moving very fast. It was gone. Jim stood, trembling in place. His blood started to rush and he felt this sick feeling of liquids being shot into his stomach.
In his peripheral vision, Jim saw the same thing once more, it flew right by him, could only have been a few feet away. Stepping forward, Jim feared it was behind him. He turned. There, standing in his doorway, was a humanoid figure. It was hunched – and it’s arms…No, they aren’t arms. Wings. In the moonlight he could see its’ fangs. It could sense his fear and started lazily walking towards Jim. Jim raised the eagle. It trembled so much in his hands he wondered if he’d miss, even at point blank range. Fumbling for the trigger, the beast started moving faster towards him, obviously wary of the weapon. It was too late, Jim found the trigger, and fired. The roar was deafening, and he couldn’t hear a thing. Birds and bats alike flew out of their resting places into the night, almost completely blotting out the sky. Jim stood in shock. He heard doors opening..
The creature before him stumbled. “Soon…” it muttered, and then dropped silently to the ground.
“Boy, what the hell you doin’ out here at night!?” Johnson yelled from behind him. Jim dropped the gun, and turned, stupidly, towards the man. Corky and Johan weren’t far behind. “Don’t you know not to leave your apartment at night!? Don’t you know there is a reason for garlic cloves hanging on the door? Exactly how stupid are you, huh!?”
“I…I…” Jim mumbled.
“Damn right! You’re lucky you’re still alive.”
“Yeah, don’t you know what comes out at night?” asked Johan, obviously not mad, but worried. Corky just cursed under his breath.
“What…I don’t…understand.”
“The vamps,” said Corky. He nodded at Johnson. Johnson looked back and nodded. They all quickly hustled inside Jim’s apartment.
“Alright,” explained Johnson, “something that didn’t come from the plague, but came coinciding with it, were the Vampires.”
“What’s a vampire?” asked Jim.
“Geez, what are you, from another world or something?” asked Corky. Johan laughed.
“Uh…I suppose.”
Corky stopped laughing. So did Johan.
“Uhg…you are really a trip, boy. Vampires are the demons of the night: They feed on blood, and they are half winged-beast and half human. You go outside and you are asking for it. Now tell us what happened, we love a good story. You’re lucky to be alive.” Johnson motioned, as if to say, C’mon.
Jim told him. He told him about the noises, and the shot, and about what the thing had said. All three of the faces seemed of stone.
“Jim, vamps don’t speak! They aren’t even smarter than apes!” Johan said. He cringed. Corky, however, was laughing his ass off.
“Yeah right, they can’t, their minds are mush!” Corky tapped his temple, and bellowed laughter.
Jim didn’t know what an ape was, but that didn’t matter. Johnson raised a hand.
“Listen, I am not going to say I believe your story, or that you have a few screws lose, but you better get your act together. Vamps don’t talk. Trust me on that one.”
Jim did not sleep.
. . .
Sun had started to shine through the cracks in Jim’s door. He could see it was morning. Jim didn’t get much sleep last night, not after what had happened. He suspected he wouldn’t get any easily for some time.
When Jim at first opened the door, he only peeked outside then closed it again. Then he opened it once more and took a step outside, looking about warily. It seemed safe enough. His back ached, and he stretched. The resounding cracks made him smile.
“Good morning!” Johan yelled from across another bridge. Jim turned, and waved.
“I’m hungry,” said Jim. Johan looked at him with a look of sarcastic sympathy, like he would a starved animal.
Johan smiled. “We are having breakfast now. Follow me to the Meal Hall. It’s not really a hall – but it’s better than nothing.” Jim was caked in dried sweat.
. . .
What served for breakfast was not the convention of nutritional pellets Jim was used to, but this odd juicy red sponge-like slab on his plate. Corky called it “Meet.” Jim thought that meant to go and see somebody. Apparently this food was also ‘meet.’
Jim poked it with his finger.
“Chow down, boy, it’s the only meal you’ll get all day besides some veggies,” Johnson told him. Jim looked from Johnson to the meat. “It’s good for ya.”
Gingerly picking it up, he nibbled off a small bite. It was a strange sensation, his mouth buzzed to life with all sorts of feelings he had never felt before. “It’s…it’s…so good!” The ‘meet’ disappeared. “More,” Jim stated.
“Sorry, son, we’ve got to keep the livestock rationed,” Johnson said between bites. A peculiar look crossed Jim’s face. “You know – our food supply? Where’d you think we get it, little lambs? Those babes’ long gone!”
“What’s a lamb?” Jim asked.
Corky stopped chewing, swallowed. “God, you are so fucking stupid I think I could shoot myself! Lamb – animal,” he said in what sounded like a messed up, retarded voice. He smacked his index finger into his other palm.
“You mean Like a dysfunctional – the ones who run the consoles.” Corky shrugged.
“Meat – human,” Corky finished. Jim’s current mouthful came out onto his plate. He didn’t believe what he’d heard. Johan looked up from his meal.
“Wh…what?”
Corky grinned. “You’re eating yourself, dumbass.” Jim bolted out the door, and to the bridge. Leaning over the side, Jim felt faint, and leaned forward a bit too much.
. . .
When he hit the ground it opened up a new world of pain to him. He sat up, dazed and confused, not quite understanding what had just happened. Jim had flipped over and landed straight on his back. The hunkered forms loomed over him, they had apparently already begun to move in his direction. He shot up, all pain being replaced by adrenaline-fueled fear. Except what did he fear? Jim had gone through this before. Dieing too him was no more than a switch in perspective. Still – instinct overran him. He sprinted through the forest, dodging bodies here and there – They were all too slow for him. Jim didn’t know why. He ran and ran and ran until it started to get dark, the woods around him beginning to shrink, almost seeming to box him in. About to call it quits and fall, and let the world swallow him, he saw a light in the distance. He cringed as a familiar feeling fell over him. It was a hole, in the darkness. It was a cave, and he sought shelter. Jim ran towards it, bumping into one of the “zombies.” It moaned and weakly tried to grab him.
He reached the cave and realized there was some sort of barrier, it was a rock. It was circular – it looked man-made, almost. He placed his palm on its cool exterior. I can move this.
He got to the half open side, and heaved. Nothing. Jim noticed the forms gathering in the sunset. More than a few of them had wings. He heaved, but for some odd reason he fell forward. The rock had moved, out of its own volition. Having been raised in a society where questions were nearly outlawed, he did not question this miracle. Jim stepped inside, and the boulder closed behind him.
. . .
He stands in a room, completely bathed in white light…no, the walls are white, but they seem to go on for an eternity. Are there walls? He thinks. Five feet in front of him, is bright speck of light. No, he thinks, not again. He turns around. The exit is no longer there. He has no choice. He steps into the light. He hears laughter.
////PART 2/////
Jim sees a doorway, and inside, the laughter only gets louder.
Jim stepped through the door. He stood in a large hall, the ceiling above him domed with majestic paintings of winged figures, and long velvet curtains hung from the large thin windows on both sides of the hall. Jim stood on a red carpet with golden linings that ran the length of the room.
A figure stood there, feminine, and slim, veiled in darkness. She turned, and stepped into the light. A look of surprise lit her face. “You aren’t supposed to be here!” she blurted. Jim did not hear this, for he was mesmerized by her silk dress covered with diamonds.
“Huh…What?”
“You heard me! You aren’t supposed to be here! Never mind, it’s not like you’d understand such complexities as I speak of. Follow me, I have to fix this best I can.” The swish of her golden hair caught Jim’s eye as she turned and stomped to a large set of doors which opened in front of her. She walked inside, and motioned for him to follow.
Jim did.
. . .
The door closed with a hiss of air. “Jim, is it?”
“Yes…where am I?” Jim shifted uncomfortably.
“That isn’t important,” the maiden said, picking up a golden goblet off an oak table and studying it vacantly. The room was what appeared to be a lavish suite, decorated in velvet with a large queen bed. “What is important is that you aren’t supposed to be here yet.”
“Yet?” Jim felt a weird sensation in the pit of his stomach, a slight tingling just above the abdomen.
“Yes, not yet. You see, Jim, I can’t tell you much but what I can tell you is that there has been an error in the system, to say the least, and I knew someone would have to deal with it, but I guess due to my luck, it was me.”
“What system? I don’t understand. None of anything makes sense.” Jim moved over to an oak table near the door and felt the velvet there. “What is this?”
The maiden put her two fingers near her thumb on her temple and rubbed in concentric circles. “Alright…listen, Jim, listen very closely, all I can tell you is that a fix has been arranged. A door will be waiting right outside in that hall.” She shuddered. “Wait…”
“What is it?” Jim asked, looking up.
“I’ve just gotten…no…okay. Jim?” She stopped rubbing and walked over to the bed and sat on a lip. “Come sit by me.”
“Uh…okay.” Jim walked over.
“What I need to tell you now is…rather important. You remember your past, correct?”
“Did I die?”
“In a matter of speaking, but that is not the point. The point is that your past, at least that one, has been wiped out to the point of your entry where you landed, remember?” He nodded. “Well, it has been erased, as I said before, and so, as soon as you enter that door…your mind will…reset,” she pointed to his head, smiling, “And you will have forgotten it, all of it.”
“Why? What if I don’t want too?” Jim gave her an inquisitive look.
“Because, Jim, that is the way it is. One day it will come back, it will just be…different. Don’t worry. Now go.”
“But I have so many…”
“I know, I cannot help you further. Now go!” She snapped, and stood up and walked over to a corner. Jim watched as the ceiling above her started to turn grey. “Go, now, hurry! There isn’t much time!” The whole place made a strange creaking sound, like a boat makes before it capsizes. The grey stain started to eat at the room, cutting a swath of destruction and Jim shied away from it, towards the door. The maiden turned to him, but she was barren, an old hag now, and her skin drooped severely. A chunk came off. “Go…” She croaked. Jim turned, and the door opened. In front of him was another door. It was labeled “3”.
. . .
Jim stepped out onto the same bridge he had fallen off earlier. It wobbled slightly from the sudden weight, but Jim caught hold before it could get the better of him. Looking around, he found that it was night, and the moon was full. Instinctively, Jim reached for his gun, one that was not there. Looking down to the ground, he located it. “Scratch that, I guess…” he said nervously.
Gunfire and an explosion to his left racked the compound. He heard screams. “Die you…MOTHER FUCKER!” yelled Johnson, as he burst through a door in the tree to his left, with what appeared something that shot the same things Jim’s own gun shot just at a more rapid rate. He let loose a few rounds into the room he came out of, and shrieks sounded from within.
Johnson looked to Jim and said, “Boy, where you been!? Thanks to you we’ve got em crawlin’ all over us like maggots on a cor…” at this, a figure leaped onto Johnson’s back and embedded its’ face in his neck. He let out a shout of agony, and fired three rounds into the thing’s chest. It fell back, but so did Johnson. Over the rails he went, down to the ground. Jim heard a cracking sound on impact, and winced. Figures in the dark moved towards Johnson’s body. Jim started to move to his right, to where he heard Corky yelling at the top of his lungs and firing, but he felt a sudden TWANG in his neck. Jim felt the dart, but it was too late. He dropped.
. . .
“…think he is it.” These were the words Jim heard uttered as he regained a hazy form of consciousness. He reached for the dart in his neck and found it wasn’t there.
“It stirs…” said another voice, right above him. It had a sound to it, like a lisp, or a hiss.
From somewhere else in the room, another voice came out much stronger and annunciated. “I thought the sedative was supposed to last longer.”
“But we are supposed to inform him of the…ah…situation.” This was another voice. Jim sat up, and opened his eyes. He looked about, groggily. He was in a cave, carved out by unnatural methods. Torches lined both ends. In front of him, no more than 20 feet away was a throne-like chair, covered in plush mattresses of all shapes and sizes. A vampire lounged here. He was studying a glass filled with blood and was dressed much better than the others, but Jim could not make out exactly what he wore, it seemed to shimmer in and out of existence.
“Yes…but I was hoping to do it without being so…ah…straightforward. We are quite scary to his kind, as you know.” Laughter resounded around the room. The vampire raised a hand, and it stopped. Jim stared at the vampire blankly. “I am Cartez, King of this coven, and you are currently my problem. I do not like problems.”
“Where is…” Jim began to ask, but Cartez cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand, and took a sip of blood.
“Don’t talk. Just listen, because I just don’t feel like dealing with your stench much longer. We are not aloud to touch you, not until the fix is completed. We aren’t supposed to tell you more than this.”
“Uh…” Jim started to stand. It was too late. Another dart entered his side. He uttered a curse, under his breath, and heard some last words before the world blacked out once more, “Take him to the other.”
. . .
He sat on an open field, looking ahead into the horizon. Jim watched as a beautiful sunset began to unfold before his eyes. Then, it turned black.
As the mists of unconsciousness started to dissipate, Jim felt, distantly, someone shaking him. He moved towards this, and opened his eyes. Looking down at him, with express concern, was Johan. “Wake up, damn you! Wake up!” He yelled into Jim’s face. Some spittle landed on Jim’s forehead. He wiped it off.
“Johan?” Jim tried to sit up, with one palm rubbing the side that he had been hit on.
“Thank god you’re alive! I didn’t know what to do…” Johan sat back and went into an Indian style sitting position.
“What hit me?” asked Jim, an inquisitive look on his face.
At this Johan burst, “Why do you ALWAYS only care about the little things?” Johan snorted decisively. “I got hit by the same dart too. It isn’t important, what is important is figuring out what happened.”
“So what happened?”
Johan slammed his fists on the ground. “You are really starting to get annoying. Why the hell are you so clueless and why can’t you ever look at the bigger picture?”
“I am. And I am asking you what I’m looking at, please don’t get so…strange about it.”
Johan sat back, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. “Okay, let me run it over to you. We thought you were sick to your stomach and ASSUMED, stupidly, that you would go and do your watch this night. You did not, and we were taken aback by those damn vamps! I don’t know what happened to either of my comrades…” Johan shuddered once, looked like he was about to say more, then went silent, waiting for Jim’s answer.
“Well…”
“What, do you know something?”
“Well…sort of…yes. I know about Johnson.” Jim looked at Johan sympathetically, and said “Look, he fought to the last. I don’t know what else to say.”
Johan stared a moment longer. “Yeah…that’s the sarge,” he mumbled, looking down, and wiping a tear from his eye. “He was always there for us, even before all this shit happened…wait a minute…” Johan said, looking up in anger. “It’s your fault we are in this mess. Yours!” Johan jabbed a finger in Jim’s direction.
“Wait a minute don’t pin this on me!” Jim instinctively shied away from Johan. “It wasn’t my fa…”
“I should feed you to the vamps myself!”
“No, wait!” Jim argued, but Johan was already getting up. “How did you survive!?” Johan’s hands were wrapped around Jim’s neck at this point. His grip loosened.
“Well…I just sort of woke up, and found you.”
“Exactly!” exclaimed Jim, with a slight croak in his voice. “I remember, vaguely, meeting the King, and he said something right before I went out, to put me with the other. This was planned.”
“What?” said Johan, an almost imperceptible groan, as he more landed on his rump then sat down. “They can’t think like that. That’s impossible. We were set up?”
“I told you so.”
Johan did not hear Jim. He went and sat by a lone tree, just staring off into the distance. Meanwhile, Jim, with a new sense of reasoning opened up before him, stood up and looked around. He stood on a high plateau, looking down upon a large meadow, filled with “Zombies”. Looking behind himself, he saw two packs. They were unopened. Beyond that he saw a worn and beaten path spiraling down towards the meadow. Having done this, he walked over to Johan. “Look, I don’t think it’s safe to be sitting here like this.” Johan just stared off into the distance, unhearing. Jim looked up to the sky for a second, and thought. He looked down. “Alright, think of it this way…you said you were in some sort of killing group? Well it sounds pretty dangerous to me and I would think that if you had lost a member on one of your outings doing your job and that you went and did this, they would have kicked you out long ago. I don’t think Johnson would approve.”
Johan looked up at him. “What would you know of Johnson!? He was a good man! And Corky! What would you know! I guess you wouldn’t know, now would you, having come from a place that no longer has people like us!”
Jim cocked his head in confusion. “Huh?”
“You know. That crazy-ass story you told the sarge. About the place you came from? Golden Lands? Any of this ring a bell?”
Jim stared blankly. “Nope.”
“You’re more fucked up than I thought.” Johan sighed. “Well, you’re right. We have to move,” said Johan, standing up and regaining his senses, “I’m going to go check those packs they left us.”
“It seems that they are helping us.”
Johan shrugged. “I wouldn’t bet on it, the slimy bastards.”
“Well they said…”
“Who cares what they said. I prefer to be safer rather than sorry.” As he said this, Johan opened the pack, and found canned SPAM and in the other pack, bottled water. “But at least we won’t be hungry.”
. . .
They walked down the path, a pack in each of their hands.
Johan pointed over towards what they could see of the meadow, to the slight rise behind it, and said “Right over that hill I see something shiny. Do you?”
Jim looked up from the trail, and consequently slipped over some loose rocks. Regaining his composure, he looked up, and out. “I see nothing of the sort.”
“No, seriously! Just look right over that lip!” Johan pointed. They both stopped.
“Johan, I don’t see it.”
“Well…I’m heading that way when we get down.” Johan started walking, Jim did not.
“Through a crowd of those things?”
Johan hesitated at this. He turned his head to Jim. “Look, they are slow and if you’re careful it is doable. I want to find out what is on the other side of that hill.”
“You’re the crazy one, then. I’ll just stay at the bottom when you get down.”
“No you won’t, we’ve got to stick together,” and as if anticipating what Jim would say next, Johan added “Because I’ve got the food!”
Jim frowned.
. . .
When they reached the bottom, Johan’s eyes lit up like Christmas. He ran straight over to a brand new Jeep Cherokee and rubbed his hands along the side, almost to check if he was still sane.
Jim, however, just stood there, staring at it blankly. “What is it?”
“Ha! It’s a Jeep!” Johan screamed, and got in the front seat. “And the key is in the ignition! I don’t know about you, but those vamps must REALLY like us!”
“I thought you said…”
“Fuck what I said, get in that seat over there!”
Jim got in, and placed his pack on the floor of the seat. “What does it do?”
Johan turned the key, and the Jeep started up. He put it in drive, and gunned the accelerator. The Jeep jumped over the hidden lip in the trail. Both were pushed back into their seats. Jim let out a scream of agony, and Johan howled with excitement.
“It’s been a LONG time since I’ve seen a good old American car,” Johan exclaimed, and jumped over another lip. Now he was in the field of zombies and he quickly rolled both windows up.
“You’re crazy! Make it stop, we are going too fast!”
“Nonsense, we haven’t even reached 30 yet. Don’t be such a baby.” Johan plowed through some individuals, but the clumps he maneuvered around. “You know what this means, don’t you?”
“No. What?”
“American cars are usually only sold in America. So therefore, we are probably in America or one of her territories.”
“I don’t know what an America is.”
“Well that doesn’t matter. The fact is, we just got very lucky.” Johan toyed with the radio, and got one EBS telling everyone to stay in-doors, but other than that, nothing. “Bummer,” he said, and kept on plowing.
. . .
As they reached the crest of the hill, Johan braked hard and skidded to stop. He stared in awe at a magnificent tower that seemed to be constructed of mirror. It glinted in the sunlight, and seemed to be a mile high, and about an eighth of a mile thick with a pyramidal base. There was no door in sight.
“Wow,” was all Jim could say.
“It’s…so…”
“Yeah,” Jim finished. Johan checked his rearview mirror. The Zombies were gaining. “I could look at it all day.”
“I don’t think we have that sort of time!” Johan said, gunning it and sending the Jeep a few feet in the air.
“Wait a minute,” Jim said, pointing towards the tower. “Look! A slit in the base! It’s opening!”
“You’re right! Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Johan turned to Jim and grinned.
“If you’re thinking it’s just big enough for this thing, yes.”
Johan only had a few inches of lee-way.
. . .
Cartez sat upon his throne. He sipped some blood from a goblet. A messenger came to him, and bowed. “You may rise,” Cartez said.
“Master, the stock is depleting…we’ll be out of nourishment in about 72 hours. We’ll have to move again.”
“Oh, but I so enjoy that pretty thing in the meadows. Too bad. Next.” Cartez waved a hand, and the messenger dispersed. The next messenger appeared, and bowed.
“Master, I bring you good news.”
“Oh? I haven’t heard any in awhile.”
“Well, sir, you see, the two humans – they left the door open.”
Cartez smiled.
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Submission Name: Just Another Day
