March, march, march,

  single file, two by two.

  Gun, sword, beast, word,

  they come to kill, conquer and slay.

  Colors abound in their masses.

  Faces and souls, gray as the sky.

  In their eyes, you see blood.

  Your blood.

  Your friend’s blood.

  Your mother’s, brother’s, and child’s.

  Here to save you, they have you by nail to cross!

  They say your spirit failed!

  Die for their god! Their ruler, or their boss!

  Do not fear, in death your soul shan’t be lost!

  You suffer and cry, you beg and you run.

  Curses, and vows.

  Shackles, and chains.

  Gallows, and crosses.

  Like monsters, humans love to kill.

  Unlike monsters, for justification, they wait.

  Their army of fists, and fingers. Like ants, they will swarm!

  They pile upon you, their blood keeps you warm.

  Their cause and their country, your home does not matter!

  You are evil! You are wrong!

  The devil is in you,

  and in your death it shall be gone!

  Terrorize those who would cause terror!

  Fear those who might bring you fear!

  Terrorists! Spies! Heretics!

  We shall now feast on the tears in their innocent eyes!

  Hunting down the preached nightmare!

  That fear, that excuse to kill!

  And the fear we give name, shall be bombed,

  burned,

  tortured,

  and judged.

  Our cause is correct, is said by all!

  Our rules are righteous, claimed by every.

  Yet freedom is sought by none.

  Truth spoken by the dead.

  In rivers of blood, the troops hold drink!

  Next to children they raped, they partake in the grape!

  Ferment the fruit, and rot the child.

  Steal their food, and kill their parents!

  Eat their pets, and light ablaze!

  Not of your race, monsters and heathens,

  they shall cry upon your face!

  Your loins.

  No guilt, for their skin does not match your own.

  Their eyes, not shaped as your brother’s.

  Don’t worry sweet thing…

  Your fear and pain, is my pleasure and gain.

  My country, my kingdom,

  in your death, we shall know freedom!

  From your pain, I shall know pleasure!

  You are white, we are brown.

  They are yellow, those are red.

  So in the name of my holy flag, you are all now fucking dead.

  I am black, you are yellow.

  Whites are devils, reds are rebels.

  Now we kill you, for they killed us.

  Each take their turn.

  Hatred, racism, slavery, religion.

  Hate is what they bring, and hate is what they fight.

  Hatred is sacred to those who follow.

  Though ironically, in hatred we all wallow.

  This logic is a bitter thing to swallow.

  Where is David? Where are the Mighty Men?

  Is there not a truly righteous army?

  One to follow the will of God?

  Nay.

  Yet there are still those, that fall in line.

  Their hearts on the kill.

  Their souls the devil's shill.

  One, forty, seven, eighty-two, nine.

  How many until one crosses the line?

  Eighteen, twelve, nine, and four.

  Those soldiers souls are but a whore.

  Side by side they line, brothers and sisters, together they walk.

  For in the dark, it is their unholy enemy they stalk.

  Are they evil? Are they wrong?

  As they burn your home and hang your son?

  Rape your daughters, kill your wives?

  YOU asked them for help,

  now accept their fucking lies!

  Would not you follow blind, the call of your great king total and sublime?

  Your leader, your emperor, your president, your queen?

  Would not you do the same with yours,

  if found the unfortunate time of war?

  Wrong!

  Protest!

  I would never!

  So they say.

  Until one who speaks their words, and stands their own ground,

  tells the violent passives, to burn it down.

  If he deems it right to rape. To take. To kill.

  Then even the meek shall have their fill.

  An eye for an eye!

  A tooth for a tooth!

  Take my troops!

  And watch as history repeats in a loop!

  For we are legion.

  Army.

  Just and right.

  A manipulation to hurt and to kill…

  For with the right liar of a leader…

  You never think not to take that pill.

  ~the Hypocritical March

  ~Feldyn Goldchord, the Endless Bard

  * * *

  John was on the verge of strangling Bryan. “If you wanted to go with them so badly, then why did you remain?” he sighed at the teenager. The group had been gone hardly an hour, yet Bryan had been all over John to follow, almost soon as they had left. “Isn’t it obvious by now?” Bryan snapped to the gray-haired old man. “I wanted to try to talk some sense into my uncle and into you!” John wanted to point out to this foolish brat that he had chosen to stay behind before John ever spoken his own intention.

  “Why are adults such cowards,” Bryan bitched, kicking the chair near him hard enough to lift its large frame completely off the ground, knocking it on its side. John was on his feet now, staff in hand, standing in front of the couch he had been sitting on in the fireplace meeting room. “I am no coward, and you should watch your tone! They will return once they fail to find a way through the barrier! Then we come up with a better, safer plan that will not get us all killed!” John snapped back, tired of being berated by this boy! He did not enjoy staying behind, nor encouraging the others to do the same. He wanted to go fight, to destroy the enemy; scour them from the earth! But that was impossible. Any attempt would be suicide! They needed an actual plan that had a probability of winning greater than zero! Needed to figure out what was so... wrong, about their recent judgments.

  “Do you really believe that?!” Bryan asked, attitude not abated in the least. “You should know better by now! They are already inside, I’m sure of it! And we are just sitting here, doing what? Waiting for them to come back? We need to go after them before it’s too late!”

  “What exactly do you think we can do to tip the balance, boy? Just what can you do? If you think you are so powerful, then go after them yourself! No one is stopping you!” Before Bryan had a chance to say anything, John spoke again, “Or perhaps you are just afraid of being without an adult at your side?” John knew he was being an ass himself now, but it was either that or beat the boy with his staff.

  “Hate to intrude,” Jeff began, standing in the doorway, “but the Order have arrived. Letting you know as requested.” He left without waiting for a reply.

  Bryan stormed out of the room after his uncle. That boy has some serious anger management issues. John started out of the room as well. Heading down the hall, Trixie spoke to him from behind, “He isn’t normally like that,” she said to John, causing him to stop. “So you would make excuses for him?” he asked the little brunette, without turning to look at her diminutive frame. “No. I‘m just trying to explain why he’s being so rude.”

  Now he looked to her, curious what insight she thinks to hold. Trixie was in just a large shirt, which was more than long enough to be a nightgown. Her hair was back up in a tight bun, feet bare on the cold floor. “Bryan is always in control. He’s Nice. Sweet. He never gets mad. Unless… unless someone he cares about is in danger! He only freaked out on Mr. Jeff like that when we got here because of how hurt he was… And he only freaked out on you because he is afraid for his friends.” John smiled, walked over to the girl, and patted her on the head. “That is no excuse to disrespect your elders in such a manner, let alone resorting to violence,” he said, and continued on, away from her, down the hall.

  “What about Reba?” Trixie called after him, freezing John in his tracks. “You say you didn’t go with them because you want to protect her. She isn’t even here now, but you still are. That doesn’t make any sense.” John didn’t move. Trix tensed a bit at her next choice of words, but he needed to hear them. “Maybe you are just afraid, sir.” He didn’t spin on her, and she didn’t sense rage from him either. She was quite adept at sensing anger from adults… “Bryan is being an... ass because he cares, and feels stupid for staying like a coward, and freaking out like he did.” She was getting more confident in her words now. She even called someone an ass! To an adult! “We are all scared, and he understands that. But what about you, sir? Do you know how scared you are?”

  “John.” Trixie blinked, a bit confused why the old man stated his name. He turned to look at her again, and his features were soft. Ashamed. “Just John,” was all he said, before continuing on down the hallway, leaving Trix smiling. John had actually listened to her advice! That made her feel happy. To be taken seriously by one of her elders, and not just dismissed. Right or wrong. To be listened to.

  John was still trying to organize his thoughts when he reached and entered Jeff’s ‘command center’. What Trixie had said to him, had him re-evaluating his intentions. Was he just afraid? Or was it something more? As he thought on this, he couldn’t help but reflect on the new people in his life. Especially the children.

  The kids he had recently met… There was no way they were coincidental encounters, as Feldyn believed. Caleb, Feldyn insisted, was the Dragonheart. John had his doubts. But there was no doubt he was a teenager. One with some… questionable morals. He was gigantic in height, and skinny as a beanpole in width, but that frame of his would be imposing once he bulked up. Quite suiting a warrior of legend. Even if he was such a ditz, that imagining him a great leader grew harder and harder the more time you spent with him.

  Pazely and Trixie? Trixie was obviously just a little girl. Intelligent, sweet, and insightful beyond her years – but no more. Pazely, however, was something entirely different, and so far, John was pretty sure he was the only one that had noticed. She had a… grating personality, but when push came to shove, she held her ground with the best of them. Her appearance was also quite unusual. That hair of hers, he had never, not even once in all of his years, encountered a female (or male) with hair like that. It was too long, too thick, and the deep midnight blue tint; how anyone could think that normal, he had no idea. In all honesty he had at first thought she was wearing artificial hair extensions and using some type of newfangled hair product to give it that strange blue color. Then there was the way she took that shock from the barrier fence without injury…

  He would include her ridiculous cold tolerance, but all his new acquaintances seemed good with frigid temperatures. He still wished the girl would wear more clothing! Simply inappropriate! It was bad enough the way Reba dressed! He had been on her for years to dress more conservatively, and all it did was make her wear less. Eventually, he had given up, and admittedly gotten used to it enough that he quit noticing.

  And then, the other two… Gigi and Ally. The ones he knew the least out of the kids. Yet, there was something special about them both too. He felt as if he had known them their entire lives, when in reality, it had been near to no time at all. He did not regret them being sent away, especially now. They were better off anywhere but here. Though he was not willing to just dismiss his instincts about them. If they survived their current predicament, he was going to track down the two blonde girls. Just in case.

  Entering the command center, Jeff was typing away over the numerous keyboards. He was looking at the monitors closer to the keyboards, ignoring the bank of them on the wall. Bryan was standing to his uncle’s side. Bryan was the only one of the kids John was not impressed with so far. “You said the Order has arrived? Show me.” John said, walking up to the other side of the man.

  Still clacking away on keys, Jeff tilted his head back, motioned with his chin. “There,” he said, causing the priest to step back, the monitors were near the top. Most were blank or just showed trees, or empty lots and fields. A couple of them, however, had a good deal of activity.

  John could see military vehicles, with typical looking soldiers. On closer inspection, you could tell they were not so typical. There was no country insignia on their uniforms, nor were they uniform in appearance. Different types of boots, different colored gear (military fatigue green, and browns of varying textures and shades), and a wide range of personal grooming habits. Many men with beards, and not exactly regulation hair lengths. Still, no surprise seeing them, as these Order mercs had been showing up on monitors for a while.

  The monitor next to that one however, showed a group of people wearing distinctive colors. “Can you zoom in?” John asked, since the camera appeared to be mounted on something high and far away, giving an almost eagle’s eye view of the large group of colors garb. The monitor zoomed in closer.

  This was not good. There were dozens! John had not even known there were this many Colors! The Colors being the name of their elite troops. The Order's only real troops, actually. The rest were hired guns. But when you pay enough, an army of mercenaries was a frightful army indeed.

  In blue tunics, and casual wear were the inquisitors. They were intelligence, and used intelligence. Not only were they spies, but also more than capable in combat, normally employing scientific techs, weapons, and gadgets.

  In black, some wrapped head to toe like Masque, others in shirt and pant outfits, were the reclaimers. John himself had once been a reclaimer. They were black ops. Stealth units. Assassins and thieves.

  The ones in red were the worst of all. Most wore concealing cloaks, and underneath, full-body leathers very similar to Reba’s own. In fact, it was these same leathers that she had based her design on. They were vindicators. And they had but one purpose, and one purpose alone: to kill. They wore red as a symbolic color for the blood they spill.

  Then John noticed something else that made his heart skip. There were others wearing colors he had never seen Several in green, wearing cloaks similar to the vindicators, and others in white, that wore either full robes or a shirt and pants combo. This was the first he had ever seen greens or whites! What role did they play?

  With this many Colors, the Order must know what the demons were planning. Which was not good. Even worse, such a large amount mercenaries here as well, there had to be at least one priest with them. An Order priest was a frightening thing. John himself had made priest status shortly before his… departure, thanks to his psionic abilities.

  “That’s… the Order, huh?” Bryan said. “So they have men and women in their ranks.” The Colors had almost as many females as males. That was also new. “Do you know what they might be planning?” the teenager asked.

  “Ah, here!” Jeff exclaimed, interrupting; a monitor near the center, which had been showing static, now displayed an image of a two story house. “What are we looking at?” John asked, choosing to ignore Bryan. “Have you gone senile?” Jeff complained with a sigh. “I have been going over cameras, finding which were still up, and just now ran across this, so put it on the screen! Did you not want to know if they were coming back?”

  “I have no idea what you are-”

  “The window! The reflection in the window!” The grumpy man said, like he was accusing someone of a crime. John wished his friend would just tell him what he was looking for. “That’s the truck!” Bryan exclaimed. “That’s the truck everyone left in!” Now John was focused. Sure enough, in the window, you could see a reflection of a truck. “Are you sure?” John mumbled. “My nephew is right, it’s the same vehicle,” Jeff confirmed.

  John’s frown deepened. Where were they at then? He did not see any movement in- there was a blur of something reflected in the window. “What was that?!” John snapped, animated now. “Is this a recording or live? Can you rewind? Zoom in and clean it up?” Jeff grumbled at the rapid-fire questions, clicking away even faster on keys than before. The screen rewound, then played up to where the blur appeared and Jeff paused it. “Okay, now zoom in and slow it down,” John advised, and Jeff stomped a foot; “How about you shut up, and let me work?” A moment later, the monitor zoomed in. Jeff rewound again, then played it in slow motion. Still blurred.

  Again, Jeff rewound, and this time played it even slower. He paused when the reflection of the blur seemed clearest, and began running image filters to try to clean it up. John went cold, “Oh my God…” Jeff looked to his quite pale old friend. “You know who, or what, that is?” he asked, referring to the image of an obese man, with a disfigured head, who could apparently move quite fast.

  “Bryan,” John said, staring frozen at the monitor, “get your things, we leave as soon as I gather some supplies.” The teenager looked shocked. “Wait,” Jeff interrupted, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “Are you really going out there?”

  “I am,” John answered, then looked to Bryan, “We are.”

  “Oh, one more thing…” Jeff said. “I doubt this pertains to you. Actually, I do not even know why I am bringing it up. Maybe I shouldn’t bother, since there is no way it-”

  “Out with it already!” John half shouted, tired of all the needless blabbering. For a moment, Bryan didn’t know if his uncle was even going to continue, as he scowled at the grumpy old man. “One of the mercenaries radioed something in yesterday over an unsecure -well, unsecure when I’m involved- channel. I record their traffic, and didn’t think much of it when going back over the transmissions. But given the recent events…”

  “Uncle," Bryan said with a groan-ish sigh.

  Pushing his glasses up his nose and closing his eyes, Jeff continued, “One of the mercenaries called in," he reopened his eyes, locking them with John's, "that they had located two girls, somewhere near the southeastern part of Kalama. Not long after, they radioed the two had managed to get away, and were heading north. They were then ordered to follow, but to only do just that: follow and report, not to engage.” he shrugged. Bryan looked between John and Jeff. “Imps?” the teenager asked. “You said all were Asian girls, at least in appearance, correct? And prepubescent?” Jeff asked, clarifying his nephews question. His gray-haired friend, nodded. “I highly doubt it then," Jeff answered Bryan, though his body language did not signal such. "They said both girls were blonde, one a teenager, the other a child, and both appeared human. Oh – both were also naked, apparently.”

  John and Bryan looked to each other, eyes wide. Two naked blonde girls, one a child, and one a teen? “You don’t think…” Bryan started, looking worried. John stared him in the eyes, “You would know better than I.” It only took a moment for Bryan to react. “I’ll get ready!” he said urgently, hurrying out of the room, and past Trixie who had been standing in the doorway, listening.

  Fear or not, Trixie couldn’t help but smile. She wasn’t as close to everyone here as they were to each other, but she still knew them well enough. And who else would be coming back to this horrible situation, naked, other than Ally and Gigi? Sally would not rebel like that, and Trix heard what happened to Jessie... The slender girl's smile faded now, as tears began to fall from her eyes. She wanted to see Ally so bad! She wanted to hang out with Gigi, and listen to her stupid stories! They better not die! They better make it back to this weird place with everyone else! Pazely, Caleb, Bryan, Miss Reba, Stryker – everyone! 'Please God, let them be okay! Please, please, please don’t take more people from me! I don’t want to be alone!'

  “Plan on filling me in?” Jeff asked his friend, sounding irritated, then gasped and went rigid when Trixie hugged him, not letting go. “Looks like you have more pressing matters,” John smiled to the panic-stricken man. ‘What do I do?!‘ he mouthed to John, who rolled his eyes, then left the room after Bryan. He needed to get ready. He needed to figure out what was really going on. To make sure that when they returned, Trixie could shed tears of joy.

  Panic-stricken, anxiety assaulting his thoughts, Jeff had no idea how to handle this! His level of terror from having a stranger touching him, he was barely resisting the urge to hit her until she let go! When he heard speaking, his heart skipped, causing a jolt, and he forced his mind to listen.

  “I’m sorry,” she sobbed repeatedly. The little girl, even while crying, was apologizing, knowing her actions were probably quite unpleasant for him. How… extraordinary. Gently pushing her back, she let go, and Jeff dropped to a knee, embracing her. He could not begin fathom his own actions! “There, there… it’s okay. Uncle Jeff has you. Shhhh… it’s okay.” All his fear was... gone; holding the weeping, shivering girl in his arms. Jeff still had no idea what he was doing, nor why he was doing it. Had he finally lost all sanity?

  Then, something in him began to change. To alter. To… feel. A great, powerful feeling, a protectiveness so intense, his own needs and worries actually began to vanish in their light. He wanted this girl to be happy. To smile. To be safe. He wanted her to feel like it was okay, with such a helpless hope, that he began to cry himself.

  “I’m all alone!” she sobbed inot him. “I have no one anymore. I have no one!” Jeff’s heart broke at those words. He had heard she was an orphan, yet he had not cared. He never cared. “No you are not,” he said to her. “You are not alone, and you never will be.” He struggled to keep himself under control. What was this feeling? It felt… painful. It felt… sad… Somehow he felt… important. What in the world could-

  Oh. Love.

  So... this is the love that a parent feels? How curious. He had thought he loved Bryan, and he had. Still did. However, this feeling was something so very all-encompassing, so different, yet so essential, he didn’t know how he had ever survived without it. Without this little girl.

  Was this the way a father felt, seeing their child for the first time? Or perhaps… when they hold their child for the first time?

  Jeff did not know why this was happening, yet it was happening. And he knew that somehow, for some reason… Trixie was meant to be his daughter. It was impossible, yet…

  In that moment, he made a silent vow. He would take care of this girl. He would be for her what he hadn’t been for Bryan. He didn’t know how he would do it, but he would protect her. He would raise her. He was meant to. And he would never abandon her. Sanity be damned.

  “Thank you, Jesus,” he whispered, as Trixie’s cries began to calm down. “Thank you…” Jeff may not have been a Christian, nor a believer at all, despite all he had been exposed to through the Order. At this point, with all sanity gone, his reality having changed in an instant; who else was there to thank for this new reality, than the author of reality Himself?

  * * *

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  In minutes, John and Bryan were at the foot of the stairs that would lead up into the cabin above.

  Bryan was in a white shirt, jeans, and camo jacket; backpack on, full of food and supplies. Bryan hadn't bothered with weapons. What was the point? If they had to fight, there was little he would be able to do, armed or not. In truth, he wasn't even sure why he was going.

  John was in his normal robes, staff, and a bag of his own; containing mostly alchemical supplies he had helped himself to. Reba hadn’t taken as much as she should have, so more couldn’t hurt. John was no alchemist, but he knew enough to make a healing potion or two.

  Only needing to wonder for a moment if Jeff would come see them off, the man round the corner farther down the hall, with… with Trixie holding his hand?! John and Bryan stood silent, trying to judge the situation properly. When the two reached them, Jeff stood stoically. Trixie’s eyes were puffy from crying, though she had a faint blush to her cheeks. “I have decided to adopt her,” Jeff declared. “I know it is not a legal adoption, but who is going to dispute it? If all goes well, the world will never even know she nor I exist.” Despite his uncle’s… choice of words, Trixie absolutely beamed at his words.

  John was dumbfounded! Just what had transpired between these two in such a brief time? “We are family now, Bryan,” Trix announced, the excitement in her voice making John smile involuntarily. “Y-yeah,” Bryan stammered. “Looks like we are.”

  “Just how do you plan on getting inside the barrier?” Jeff asked, abruptly changing the topic with his monotone. John shrugged, suppressing an eye roll, “I do not know if we need to enter it. Reba and the others may still be outside. My intentions are not to engage the enemy, but to simply join back up with our group. The rest we will figure out once together.”

  “So, you are going to head to where the truck is parked? Do you need the address?” Jeff asked, and John shook his head. “No, they would not still be at that location, especially with who we saw on the video.”

  “That... man? What exactly was that?”

  “Ted the Alchemist, Reba's creator.”

  “What?” Trixie asked, interrupting the adults. “Created Reba?”

  “I’ll explain after they leave,” Jeff promised. It still sounded ridiculous to him, but he remembered the tale well enough.

  “Head to Little Rock Drive,” Jeff continued. “The truck was not parked far from there. Yes, I heard you, don’t give me that look! When the barrier went up the first time, I noticed something: it rests upon what it touches, instead of slicing through it. That first night I had been able to see from some of my cameras, through windows in houses the shield rested onto, through to the other side. At least until the electrical storms and earthquakes caused the houses to collapse.”

  “And you never felt the need to tell us this?” John asked. “There was never a reason to,” Trix’s new dad replied. “The… demons noticed this flaw, it appears, and erected the barrier to better avoid such obstacles this time.

  “Only, they do not have a very good eye for detail. They laid a large portion of the shield along Little Rock Drive itself. As you may or may not know, Little Rock has many raised sections, with several large drainage pipes running all the way underneath it.” Jeff grinned. “More than large enough for someone to crawl through.”

  “Thank you, Uncle,” Bryan said, and meant it. He wished that the man would give this kind of information sooner, but at least he gave it. Knowing how to get inside would be helpful, as Bryan was positive the others had made it inside. He turned to John. “Shall we go?” he asked. “Keep an eye out for our return.” John said to the still grinning scientist, and headed up the stairs. Bryan had made it up two steps when Jeff said his name. He stopped, and looked back at his uncle.

  “I… um… You…” Jeff took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “If the worst has happened, and you need it, I am more than willing to raise you as well.” Jeff furrowed his brow. “I suppose you are already mostly raised…” Bryan stood there, not moving or speaking. “I’m serious, Bryan. I will… I will adopt you as well.” Jeff stood up straight, trying to look strong and proud. Bryan stood there for another moment, then sighed heavily, continuing up the stairs.

  “You better come back!” Trixie called to him when he was almost out of sight. He crouched and looked down to her, “Of course I’m coming back. I have a niece to sister to take care of now. God knows my uncle doesn’t know what he’s doing.” Trixie gave a big and happy smile at his reply. Continuing up and out of the cabin, Bryan met the old man just outside. The emotions he was feeling right now were quite the clusterfuck. “Are you okay?” John asked, uncharacteristically nice to the teen. “I’ll be better once we find everyone.” That answer was good enough for John.

  “Just how are we going to get there, anyway?” Bryan asked him. “We run,” John answered, and the boy laughed, stopping when he realized John was serious. “Um… we run?”

  “It should only be a few miles from here if we optimize the route.”

  “Only? … What about the Order?”

  “They are quite a good distance, and will likely remain so, waiting to launch an all-out offensive. We need to hurry. It may be close, but cross country runs have a tendency to take longer than anticipated.”

  Bryan stood wondering if the man was serious, as he bent this way and that in a few simple stretches. “Let us go!” he finished his too brief of stretching to be helpful, and jogged off down the driveway. Bryan only waited a second before jogging after him. Is he really serious about running the entire way?

  * * *

  Oh, yes, John had been quite serious, and Bryan was exhausted! He had no idea how far they had jogged (more like ran) across roads, through yards, up and down hills… He was young and in amazing shape, with good stamina, but this kind of long distance running took training and conditioning, not just a healthy body and the desire to keep moving forever! The teenager needed to stop several times to breathe, the old man constantly urging him to hurry up.

  Eventually, having run for what felt like forever, and Bryan’s lungs seeming to have transformed into sandpaper, he’d had enough. They were quite close to the shield now, but Bryan wanted some answers at least, if he was going to keep pushing himself like this! He knew he had been quite rude and irrational in the last twenty-four hours… or more. Still, was he not the slightest bit entitled to some truth by now?

  Not to mention… after the way he froze in their last battle… Bryan was concerned it would happen again. Maybe if he wasn’t so confused and worried… Maybe if he knew what the hell was going on, he could steel himself better, and not act like his cowardly uncle… Turning into that anxiety-ridden asshole was the last thing he wanted.

  Speaking of family, Bryan was horribly worried about his parents. Unlike his friends, he loved his mother and father. They were… a bit pointless, as far as actual parents went, and he had basically raised himself; but they were kind people, not fire and brimstone psychotic like Ally’s parents, cruel and full of hate and violence like Pazely’s, nor completely absent and uncaring like Caleb’s dad.

  He knew the odds said they were dead. He had forced himself to accept this reality after the blood moon nightmare. Now, however, after finding his long dead uncle Jeff, he had to be sure. If they needed him, he had to help them!

  What had really got him motivated however, about not just his parents, but trying to save Miss Terra... was what Reba had said to him, as she had run out after the others.

  ‘Coward.’

  That one word. Hearing a someone he respected so much judge him so harshly… If he had managed to take the shock better, he would have run after her. Instead, Bryan stood there like a moron, Reba's words ringing in his ears, until the group was too far away for him to catch.

  “Hurry up, boy, we near the barrier!” John urged harshly, as Bryan leaned on a tree, gasping. John seemed to barely be breathing harder than normal. “No,” Bryan gasped to the startled priest. “Yeah, no,” Bryan said again, voice not sounding rude or defiant. More like… defeated. “Please…” he gasped again, then closed his eyes, trying to focus, to control his breathing, and remind himself not to be his uncle. “Please, sir, I am risking my life, and I'm more than a bit terrified. While I catch my breath, will you please tell me what is going on? Keeping the enemy’s plan to yourselves… Forgive me, but does it not seem foolish at this point?”

  The sudden change in Bryan was shocking. John wasn’t sure what to feel, or how to respond. This boy had gotten on his nerves from almost the moment they had met. The others had told him it was quite out of character for him to act like such an entitled, know-it-all, arrogant ass, time and time again. The way the boy spoke to his elders was ghastly! He had even resorted to physical violence! How could John be expected to ignore such an attitude, regardless of what the others told him? This change, however… Was this the real Bryan finally beginning to emerge? Or was the one he had met the real Bryan, the politeness his friends knew only a social facade?

  Regardless, Bryan was correct. And there was something more. He and Feldyn had kept most of the details to themselves, out of fear of panicking the others. Reba, of course knew. That something more? John was sure the others knew. That they had been told. Surely at least Masque knew? He had to. And then told the others? A chilly feeling electric tingle went through his head, following by a subtle, yet disconcerting pop.

  John had gone rigid, and now relaxed his stance, leaned on his staff with two hands. Bryan was watching him, sure the man was to admonish him when he stood up straight. Now, with that clam expression; he… was going to tell him?

  "Bryan, have I, or any, truly not shared with you what the prophecy says about the terrors intention?"

  "Uh, no. Not me, at least."

  "And you never felt the need to ask?"

  "We were a bit preoccupied. And I'm not used to adults... well, you don't exactly like me, and didn't want to tell us before. From my experience, that wasn't something that would change."

  John stared at him for a long couple moments, before softly nodding. “The Terrors are, beyond a doubt, intending to open a gate to Hell. To what end, I do not know." Although John felt he should know. "Such a thing has only happened once, that I know of, in Earth's history; though it is far from common knowledge. Before that gate had ever been opened, angels appeared, and destroyed the entire civilization, leaving not a single man, woman, or child alive. That civilization was the Mayans.” As John spoke, Bryan forgot he had been exhausted, and was now standing straight, unassisted by the tree he had been leaning on. Was John serious?!

  “The prophecy speaks of the Terrors opening a gate to Hell, but it does not say to what end or purpose. It is also safe to assume that the Terrors have what they need to open the gate whenever they choose, yet they do not. There is obviously more to this entire situation than we know. If I had to guess-" a freezing snap pop between his eyes had him stutter unintentionally mid sentence, "the Calebheart- um..." she shook his head, and ahemed, before continuing. "If I had to guess, they need Caleb, who is presumed the Dragonheart from Aetherian prophecy, to accomplish their goal. This barrier intended to keep demons from flooding too far from the gate so the angels do not intervene, or it may be to keep the angels themselves out. Even with such reasoning; why no angels have yet shown themselves is troubling.”

  John ended there. And was confused. Had he truly thought the Terror's needed Caleb? He swore, until a few seconds ago, trying to figure out how Caleb fit in was like remembering a dream you forgot, yet was right there, the hint of it teasing your memory. Besides, there was slim chance Bryan would accept such a ridiculous thing so easily. A gate to Hell? That was Hollywood B horror, not reality. In actuality, it never should be able to be reality.

  There were already gates of a sort on Earth, but they were monitored and controlled, following a set of rules. Demons were part of God’s plan, so they had to get here somehow. But a full gate being opened in such a random town in Washington, by three beings of prophecy, in an attempt to do God only knew what? It was ludicrous! Surely Bryan would call him on it, accuse him of lying and want the real story. Demanding to know what John was still hiding from him. Unfortunately, he was no longer hiding anything.

  “What… happens if the gate opens?” Bryan asked, having gone pale. It seemed Bryan could impress him after all. “Hell itself will spill forth, altering the environment to an Earthly hellscape near the vicinity of the gate, possibly for miles. The biggest problem are the demons. Having no regulations on who, what, or how many come through, the Terrors could have an army on the other side waiting to cross.” John stared at the boy intensely, whose eyes darted all over as he thought about the words the old man had spoken.

  “Are demons physical or spiritual in Hell?” Bryan asked. “To clarify; do they have actual bodies in Hell, or do they get bodies when they come to Earth?” John was not sure why that mattered, yet he had an answer, so he gave it. “Both, in a sense. Most demons have a physical form, their bodies when in Hell the same as when they are on Earth, only sealed, like explained before. Demonic spirits also reside in Hell, not needing bodies to interact with their environment. When a demon’s physical body dies on Earth, its spirit is sent back to Hell, and straight to the Hell fires. I am not sure how it works exactly, but a dead demon is only dead until it finds a way out of the fires.

  “Hell is not pure death, just a death, one area death resides. Hell is where souls bound in the Chains of Sin, inevitably end up. A demonic spirit in Hell has power that a human soul does not, however. The same with their physical forms.”

  “So,” Bryan said, “we are looking at a possible demonic apocalypse?” John rested his chin in one hand. “It is possible, though unlikely. The death of all of us, and possibly the destruction of the Northwest, before either God intervenes, or the Order and the world’s armies deal with the problem, is much more likely.” John had no idea what type of horrors this world would suffer, and for how long if a gate was opened. God promised the Jews would endure until the end, and that He would return before humans could destroy the Earth. He never said just how many apocalyptic scenarios the world would first face. John kept those thoughts to himself.

  “Well, what are we waiting for?” Bryan asked. “We need to hurry!” he said as he turned and ran towards the barrier. Now, John smiled. The boy didn’t hesitate, but ran towards the danger he should be running from. John was proud of the teenagers current actions. An emotion he never thought to be feeling towards the snotty boy. Perhaps he was just getting so old that youth irritated him more, as his own spark was beginning to fade?

  In fact, John had no right to judge anyone. He had never even been a proper teenager, had he? No, he had been nothing less than a monster. With a silent prayer for God to forgive his hypocrisy, John continued running.

  They shortly came into view of Little Rock Drive, and Bryan was wondering if he had gone mental. Panicking over dogs and vampires, now he's rushing head first towards a possible gate to Hell, without an ounce of fear?

  And didn’t this scenario seem a tad extreme for his first… whatever this was? Adventure? Mission? I mean… wasn’t there supposed to be some type of gradual progression to this kind of crap for the heroes, which he reluctantly had to admit he and his friends -God help the universe- currently were?

  Unfortunately, it seemed in real life you didn’t get to start out with little wimpy opponents that you could take down with sticks and pot lids. In reality, you had crazy psycho killers charging you, rifles blazing, bombs exploding, grenades popping. Or in Bryan’s case, meowing dinosaurs, animated gas pump hoses, and little girl demons that wore skimpy outfits made from human skin.

  Reality was literally a psycho bitch from Hell.

  As they slowly jogged down a grassy incline, the barrier suddenly flashed so bright Bryan cried out, blinded; John stumbling and rolling down the hill. There was a loud whooshing sound, followed by a terrible crackling noise.

  Eyes recovering quickly, Bryan could see electricity, racing all over the shield. No, not electricity… manastorms! It was as if the entire shield was one big-

  Bryan got knocked on his ass as a huge gust of wind hit him; the manastorming on the barrier raced straight up, condensing out of his sight somewhere near the top, and was gone. It left the once blue barrier-wall, a solid purple color. And not a quake had shaken the ground.

  “What the hell was that?!” Bryan exclaimed, blinking furiously, as if that would clear the spots in his vision. John was about ten feet away, still getting to his feet. Hurrying to him, he offered the man a hand, who at first turned it down, then changed his mind. Like it or not, he was not a young man anymore, and all this running was killing his back, knees, ankles… well, almost everything. “I have no idea,” John answered. “But I think we need to move, now.” At first, Bryan thought the man was concerned storms would begin to tear up the land again. Then, he noticed where the barrier-shield touched was steaming. Was it… cutting into the ground?!

  Looking left and right down the road in front of them, which the barrier rested on, John located a large drainage pipe running under it.

  Without another word to each other, they both sprinted like bats, uh, into hell towards the tunnel under the road. They reached it in seconds; John diving in, and crawling on elbows through the lukewarm water and mud, Bryan quickly following. When Bryan was almost through, the top of the tunnel began to crumble. He didn’t even bother to curse, pulling himself on his elbows fast as he could. John -sore joints or not- grabbed Bryan’s sleeves and yanked him out.

  The shield cut through about ten seconds after he had pulled Bryan free. The teenager would have been out on his own by then, but he was still thankful John hadn’t hesitated, just in case. “Thanks,” Bryan said breathlessly, taking his glasses off to wipe them on his shirt.

  And realized it was warm and humid. In fact… it had been much warmer near the shield before they had run through as well, but not this warm. John noticed it too, and was grateful they were in the shade. John stood, staring up at the cloudless violet sky. “Well… this is… unusual…” he said, mostly to himself. “I’ve seen stranger,” Bryan stated casually, putting his glasses back on and looking at the sky as well. John couldn’t help but laugh.

  They continued their run, only slower and more cautious, through farmlands, and forest, until finally getting to the main highway that ran along this side of the river. And true to form for our heroes; Bryan and John stole a car.

  John drove the SUV Bryan had hotwired, after getting more than a few jibes thrown at him for failing to be able to do it himself. the old man had been trying for a decent amount of minutes before finally -and stubbornly- consenting to let the boy try. It had taken Bryan a fraction of the time. Driving north, slowly and cautiously, needing to dodge around random debris in the road, both were tense, expecting something to pop out and get them at any moment. Yet… nothing. They saw not a single sign of their group. Not so much as one monster or demon, nor anything out of the ordinary at all.

  That is, until they were across the river from the southernmost part of Castle Rock, and the trees on their side cleared enough for them to see the Rock on the other side of the Cowlitz, as they passed. John slowed almost to a stop, both staring, though the sight should have prompted a heavier foot on the gas pedal, one would think.

  The area around the Rock appeared to have some fairly stereotypical-looking evil mist rolling off of it. Much darker than mist should be, yet quite obviously not smoke. There also seemed to be… things neither could make out from here, moving, on the Rock and the area nearby it.

  “Maybe you should drive faster…” Bryan said, still looking out the window, body spring-tight, ready to do something, as he fully expected a creature to come shooting across the river and attack their car. Without a word, John accelerated quickly, but not so fast as to be out of control.

  Which proved to be a good thing. Rounding a corner, Pazely (hair in an uncharacteristic ponytail) came running out of a yard on the right side of the road, causing John to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting her. Two people in rags followed after the girl, at full sprint sprint. She tripped in the road, and barely got to her feet in time to clock one of them in the side of the head, with what looked to Bryan like a piece of pipe.

  Out of the car, Bryan was running to his friend – then realized what it was she was fighting. Chunks of skin were gone from them, clothes in rags, ribs and other bones exposed, flesh clearly rotting, and the powerful reek of death assaulted his nostrils.

  Zombies?! You have GOT to be kidding me!

  He watched as the zombie Paze hadn’t yet, hit fell atop her, and she screamed, dropping the pipe. Bryan launched himself into a flying tackle at the zombie on top of one his best friends, and was himself tackled from the air by the first zombie Pazely had clocked.

  Wind knocked out of him from the powerful impact, Bryan still managed to flip the disgusting corpse from him, taking only scrapes to his body. The zombie was on its feet before Bryan. Holy shit, they are fast!

  Pazely had yet to even register that help had arrived, entire focus on the gross thing attacking her. It was dry, yet slimy and crumbly, and it was so strong! It snapped its teeth, the foul stench from its mouth causing her sobs to come out as gags.

  Then her hand slipped, and it bit into her shoulder; eliciting a bloodcurdling scream, loud even for Pazely.

  “Koh-luhn!” John cried, a blast of energy hitting the zombie that was biting the girls shoulder. It had been gripping her tightly, so she got yanked up by the force, before it went tumbling many feet away; Pazely herself landing on hands and knees. “Teri’kre!” was the second command, the zombie going stiff on the ground. John ran past Pazely, to the undead monster.

  Bryan, lacking a better option, kicked the zombie (that had tackled him) in the chest, knocking it back down. He then promptly punted the monster’s head from its body. To the boy’s chagrin, the zombie didn’t seem to mind. Bryan wasn’t quite sure how to react. Who the hell's ever heard of a headless zombie?!

  Upon reaching the paralyzed undead, John began beating it with his staff, until it was properly pulped, confident it was once again dead. Hurrying to Pazely’s side, he noticed Bryan was boxing the remaining zombie, which no longer had a head. The boy seemed in no real danger, so he focused his attention on the Japanese girl.

  “Are you alright, Pazely?” John asked, true concern in his voice. She looked up at him, eyes wide in fear and confusion. He noticed she had more than a few scrapes and bruises; clothing, and hair were singed, and she was also soaking wet. Pazely’s eyes focused on him, finally. “NO!!” she screamed, at a now quite befuddled old man. “D-D-D-DON’T KILL ME!!!” She was hysterical!

  Bryan looked over his shoulder at the screams, and got punched in the face by the zombie. A good, solid, right jab! Then, it followed up with two more, which Bryan dodged. “A little help here!” he snapped at John. “Teri’kre,” the old man said, almost absentmindedly, waving a hand behind him, focused on trying to calm the girl. “Thanks,” Bryan mumbled; the zombie essentially froze in place. Bryan took the opportunity to grab the nearby pipe Pazely had dropped, and begin beating the zombie.

  Paze, trying to back away from the old man, kept getting tangled in her own hair while she panicked. “Pazely, it is me, John!” he urged. “I am not going to hurt you!” Had the girl gone mad? On her feet now, Pazely was only hyperventilating, looking between John and Bryan, seeming ready to flee for her life at any moment. “I-i-i-it’s not m-my fault! I-I-I-I didn’t mean to let it!” Pazely rambled like a loon. “It just bit me!” she explained, puzzling the old man more. Shaking her head, she kept rambling. “But I’m not… I feel okay. I don’t… I mean, head-shots don’t even work! Please! I don’t wanna die! Please, John! Please don’t kill me! I don’t want you to just kill me!” she begged.

  It finally dawned on him what the hell she was talking about. The zombie Bryan was fighting was so beaten that it could no longer remain upright, even with the psionic hold in place, and it crumbled to pieces on the ground. Before John could say a word, Pazely shouted, “Reba could probably cure the zombie virus, but now she’s dead, so I’m totally fucking fucked!”

  The old man froze so solid, it was as if he had directed one of his psionic holding commands at himself. Then he lunged at Pazely, grabbing the girl by her shoulders, dropping his staff to the ground. “REBA’S DEAD?!” he shouted, inches from the teens face, shaking her quite forcefully. “REBA’S DEAD?!” he shouted again, sounding as panic-stricken as the girl. Bryan grabbed the old man and yanked him off of her, landing him on the ground. The already terrified Pazely, screamed a wail, and fled back the way she had come, into someone’s yard and out of sight.

  “Dammit, John!” Bryan snapped, the old man sitting on the ground, staring wide-eyed into space. He hadn’t meant to frighten the poor girl. But her words… Reba… was… dead?

  “Does a zombie bite turn you into a zombie?” Bryan asked him, urgency in his voice. John didn’t answer, and just kept blinking. John's mind... was.... popping and tingling, his panic and grief flooded with a confusion of memory, drowning out Bryan's voice. Bryan dropped to a knee and grabbed the man by his robes, pulling him into his face. “Does a zombie bite turn you into a zombie?!” he repeated, anger finally seeping into his voice.

  Despite his shock, pain, and maelstrom of memory, John knew he could not allow himself to lose it. There were still others, still kids here, depending on him. But for the life of him… he couldn’t seem to get control of this heart-ripping dread, and the knowledge something else was, had been, as wrong as those words Pazely spoke about Reba.

  Regardless, somewhere in his mind, he knew of Pazely’s fear and plight. Bryan’s words registered to him, even if he himself was not able to focus his mind. John was hardly even aware that he shook his head and spoke, “No. No, it is nothing more than a wound. Being bitten and becoming a zombie is but fiction.”

  Releasing the old man, Bryan mumbled a curse, then took off running in the direction Pazely had gone. He had no idea what was going on, but with Pazely panicking like that, she was in danger and vulnerable! Plus, she ran back the way she had come while running from the monsters. For all he knew, there could be more or even worse things, that she was now running to in a panic!

  He caught up to her pretty quickly, continuing to trip over basically nothing, running through a grassy yard. Knowing she wouldn’t listen while this freaked out, he just tackled her gently as possible, and began tickling her sides and underarms, turning her scream at being tackled, into shrieking giggles. “A bite doesn’t turn you into a zombie!” he repeated over, and over, and over, while wrestling her.

  Eventually, Pazely managed a gasping, “Okay, okay!” and he let her go, moving away and standing. She was coughing, still on the ground, and Bryan hoped he wasn’t blushing. His hands had ended up in quite a few places during his blind grapple-tickle-attack, that they should not have been. And despite the horrible situation, he also liked it a lot more than he should have.

  Pazely calmed pretty quickly, and Bryan noticed she was blushing furiously. He grudgingly had to admit to himself it was probably due more to her reacting like a spaz than to his… accidental wandering hands. There were some things he seriously envied about Caleb, even if he would never admit it.

  Not a word was exchanged between the duo; Paze stood, and they walked back to the road where the heartbroken old man had been left. Bryan had expected him to still be in the road, and was pleasantly surprised to see the man, gray head hung, sitting on the guard rail, both hands gripping his staff for support.

  Once they neared him, without looking up, “I am sorry, Pazely,” John apologized. She squeaked something quiet, that sounded like, “It’s okay,” but was hard to tell. She was a bit ashamed at the way she had panicked. But that was understandable, right? Even if being bitten didn’t give you the zombie virus, a damn corpse was still chewing on her! That was not cool, and gross and freaky! … Damn zombies.

  Taking a breath, John raised his head. “How did she die? What were her injuries?” he asked, and Bryan gave him a disapproving look. “It is important. What has taken place before we got here is equally so. Remember why we are here, Bryan.” There was something in John's voice that gave the boy a chill. Pazely's mocking laugh, however, distracted him form thinking on it. “Yeah… Why are you guys here?” she asked, starting to gain strength to her words. “I mean, you two abandoned us! You have no idea what we’ve gone through! I don’t even know if anyone else is still alive for sure! I mean, I figured Masque would come find me by now…” Bryan had no words readily available. What could he even say? My bad?

  “I made a choice,” John said. “And it has proven to have been a bad one. If you hate me, and no longer trust me, I would not blame you.” He looked Pazely in the eyes. His entire presence was so much more commanding then usual, in an odd calm sort of way. “We would know of all that has happened, but first… please tell me, in detail… what happened to my daughter?” Tears ran from his eyes, though his expression did not change. Pazely felt momentarily bad. But just for a moment. If he had been here, then maybe, just maybe, Reba would still be alive.

  “Please,” John said, and shocked them both, as he got to his knees and bowed his head. “Pazely, I am begging you. I do not deserve your kindness, but please tell me what befell her. In detail.” It felt like an eternity to the old man, head hung, waiting. And praying. For there was still a chance Reba could be alive, though he could not let himself hope for such. Not yet. Not until he knew what had happened…

  “After we got attacked at Ally’s, we were at the feed store, and were heading across the bridge,” she began, and John looked up now. They were at Ally’s? Had the girls truly returned, or was it just coincidence? “We got… um, we got ambushed on the other side, I guess. Well, there were vampires, and they were using magic. And this big spider climbed over the bridge -”

  “Wait, vampires using magic?”

  “SHUT UP, BRYAN! There were vampires, and a big spider. Also, a crab, I think, that I saw by Feldyn. Then, one of vampires cast a fireball.”

  “One of them cast a fireball?"

  “I SAID, SHUT UP! Yes it was a fucking FIREBALL! Just like in a DAMN GAME!” She wasn’t just being Pazely; her voice was full of an anger Bryan was not used to hearing from her, causing him to shrink back. “Sorry…” he mumbled.

  John hardly cared about their foolish interaction, his mind focused on the girl’s words, trying to rationalize them. So their opponents were actually weaving spells? Did the shield-barrier allow the casting without the repercussions of storms, or had their enemy simply not cared?

  Glaring at Bryan, the girl continued, “Reba wasn’t paying attention, and the fireball hit, like, right beside her I guess.” Her demeanor changed almost instantly back to a look of horror, and… guilt. “We… Stryker and I tried so hard John, I swear! But she was hurt bad! There… there was this huge hole in her side… So much… so much of her was gone… But she was still alive at first.” Pazely’s voice cracked, and trembled. “We tried!” she sobbed. “But… but she died!” Bryan forgot his own pain as he heard the hurt in Pazely’s voice. Reba was really dead? Was this for real?

  So... it was true. John suddenly felt hollow. “Thank you for telling me,” he said to the girl, and stood, feeling disconnected and confused. “I swear we tried John! We poured healing potions inside of her and everything!” Pazely sounded like she was begging.

  John’s heart skipped a beat.

  They… had used healing potions? “Stryker even poured some in her mouth, and blew it inside of her like CPR-style, but it didn’t do anything!” John’s heart was racing now. 'God bless that man! Oh God, Holy Christ, bless that man and this beautiful child!'

  “Pazely, were her arms and legs still attached?” John asked, his entire body shaking. She sniffled, then nodded. “Is she- is her body still there?” Paze looked puzzled at his question. “I don’t know. Maybe? More magic or something hit us, and I got knocked into the river. I saw Feldyn and Ally for a second, then I floated around the corner.”

  Suddenly turning and running to get in the car, “We must hurry!” John called, and the two teens looked between each other. “She may yet live, Pazely! You and Stryker may have saved her!” John called, getting in the driver’s seat and tossing his staff in the back. The teenagers hurried to the car, Paze getting in the back with the staff. “John, I told you… she had a huge hole in her! Not a hole, but like... a big piece of her was... Like half her torso was destroyed by the fireball. You could see... everything inside.” As she spoke, Bryan tasted bile in his mouth.

  Hitting the gas and peeling out, “She isn’t like normal people, Pazely,” John explained, with hope he hadn’t dared for in his voice. “Her body can heal mortal injury. Severe mortal injury. I have once before witnessed it. We had been hunting a naga, and Reba went off on her own. She managed to kill it, but was was mortally wounded. Yet even with her injuries, her body still healed itself. Any normal person would have died, despite the medicines I gave, yet she did not. I suspect her body innately understands the structure of things, as she does, and is able to break down medicines given to it, turning them into what it needs; healing her injuries.”

  Like usual, Bryan’s mind was spinning, trying to take in all this random, seemingly bullshit, information. Only, unlike before, he now believed the bullshit. A naga? Did John say a naga? As in a snake-person type of monster?

  “Are you sure?” Bryan asked the old man, who shook his head. “No. But if her body reacts like before, then she should heal. And any chance is better than no chance at all!” Neither teen could argue with that.

  Looking in the rearview mirror. “Is it true then, that Ally and Gigi returned?” John asked the girl in the backseat. “Oh yeah, you guys don’t know. Yeah, they came back,” Paze answered. “Were they naked?” Bryan asked, and got a shrieked, “YOU’RE SICK!” from Pazely. John couldn’t help but grimace. This child should have sung opera… “No, they were not naked, Pervy Mcdumbass! They were being attacked somewhere outside this wall thing, and Masque heard Gigi in his brain or something, and went and saved them,” she explained with an eye roll at Bryan’s stupid question. Jeez, even Bryan was turning into a sicko!

  “Who was attacking them?” John asked, deciding to ignore the part of how Masque had ‘heard Gigi in his brain’ for now. There were too many questions, yet only so much time for answers. “That zombie guy that we saved Feldyn from,” she answered. “Ted?!” John was honestly shocked, and Pazely just shrugged. “Sure, whatever his name is. Masque took Reba with him, and they came back with Ally and Gigi.” John’s heart was slamming again. Why had he ever let them go without him?! Why had he not immediately gone after Reba?! “Did they defeat him? Ted?” Pazely shook her head as he looked at her in the mirror. “No, but Reba said Masque hurt him really bad.”

  It was Bryan’s turn for a question, and he hoped it didn’t cause another shriek, “You said you guys got attacked at Ally’s place?” he asked, and she nodded. “By what?” She frowned. “It sounds stupid, but you already saw the zombies, so you will believe that part. But there were also… gargoyles. Like, actual stone gargoyles. One of the gargoyles tried to take me after the wreck, but Masque saved me.”

  The old man had one more question, as they were now in sight of the four corners, where the right turn would lead them to the feed store, and the bridge over the Cowlitz River. “Did you encounter any of the imps?” he asked, and Pazely frowned. “Kinda… When I washed up on shore on the dead spider.” Bryan had to bite his tongue to not inquire more on that. “There were a ton of zombies. I thought I was going to die. Then Kiki showed up and killed them all, smiled and waved at me, and left,” she squeaked in her confusion.

  John furrowed his brow, “Kiki?” This time, Bryan answered. “That was what one of the imps called herself up at Rashe- err… Xa-uh.. lantra’s. The youngest of them. I think. Looks and acts pretty young” Paze nodded her agreement in the backseat. This only puzzled the old man further. One of the imps had helped them again? Just what in the blazes was going on?! The things he had remembered... could those passages truly be a part of this? “After she left, I started heading back up to Westside. My hair was driving me nuts - sorry Bryan, my hair ties are totally destroyed - so I broke into a house to try to find something to put it up. I had to use a stupid piece of rope since there was nothing else and I was hurrying. I had just got done tying it, when a bunch of zombies attacked me in the house. I killed some, because fuck zombies, then escaped, sorta, and well, you guys found me.”

  Slowing to make the turn, Pazely leaned forward between the two front seats, pointing out the windshield at the field across from them. “See? There! That was where we crashed when trying to get away from Ally’s! A gargoyle flipped our truck way the fuck out there!” And indeed there was a crash. A still smoking crash, a good distance from the road. How did they survive that?

  “Oh, holy shit,” Bryan said, and John thought he was referring to the smoldering truck remains, until he looked towards the bridge in the direction the vehicle was now facing, and saw why the boy had cursed. The bridge looked like a bomb had gone off. There was smoke in the air, much heavier still than what the crashed vehicle was emitting, yet no visible flames.

  Slowing the car as they drove onto the bridge, the stench of rotten seafood assailed them. So much damage was on the last third or so of the crossing, it was impassable by vehicle. Everyone getting out of the car, the two males were speechless. There were scorch marks everywhere. Chunks of the bridge were gone, or just melted; asphalt on the road ahead of them was torn up, with the dike on the right side looking like mortars had been rained down upon it.

  John noticed the blood, and the apparent vampire corpses, while Bryan’s gaze fixed on the large rotten thing. It smelled horrific, and was decomposing before his eyes. It could possibly have once been a ginormous crab, he supposed. Trying to wrap his mind around this battlefield, Bryan felt guilt. He had… stayed behind. And everyone else… They had… dealt with… Had gone through so much…

  As of this moment, he had never been more ashamed of himself in his life.

  In a pop of black smoke, Masque was standing before them, and not one of the three so much as started. Somehow, Masque seemed… different. His netherweave was more dense than Bryan or John had ever seen it, his eyes practically boiling that blue chilling mist, and his stance appeared stronger. Steadier. Taller. “I am overjoyed to see you alive, Pazely. Please forgive me that I did not immediately set out to find you. I am having trouble catching scents, and trusted in your ability to survive,” he apologized. “Just don’t let it happen again,” Paze grumbled, and he dipped her a quick bow.

  Looking to Bryan, Masque gave a small nod, then turned to John. “You’ve fed,” John observed, a bit on edge. “I have, though it is not as you think, and we have no time to discuss. There is reason I could not immediately search for Pazely. John, I... believe he have failed.

  “Reba’s injuries are... severe," Masque continued, filling them in, "and her heart does not beat. Yet within her, I can still sense life. Ally and Feldyn have also been gravely poisoned by one of the imps. I retrieved Reba’s bag of supplies, but there was little not destroyed within. Regardless, none of us know how to concoct an antidote. More, the enemy took Caleb. Where, and if he is still alive, I do not know,” Masque’s voice sounded worried and fearful, stealing any joy they could have felt at the news of Reba still in the realm of the living.

  “I brought more supplies,” John replied calmly, “and should be able to create an antidote for the poison.” Then added, “If what you say is true, and Reba still clings to life, odds are good she will survive.” Masque wasn’t sure the man grasped the severity of the situation, but understood the confidence in John’s voice enough to not question. “Where are they?” John asked, and Masque pointed over his shoulder to the city yard. “The large outbuilding within the fenced lot.”

  “Then let us hurry!” Bag already in hand, John began to head that way with Bryan and Pazely.

  “John-” Masque began, and the priest cut him off. "We are not defeated, Masque, not yet. And I do not intend to be. Now, let us go to our friends, and my daughter."