Conceived in Blood, A Post-Apocalyptic/Dystopian Novel (12 page)

Marshall smiled.

Now her favorite part. Prostrate tributes lined the path like a road of logs. Lifting her foot, she left behind the crunch of stone to step upon the backs of the weak. Soft flesh gave underfoot. With a slight twist, she ground the ball of her foot into their backs, reminding them of their proper place.

Her mother sat near the end of the human carpet. In a half bow next to her, that bitch Mirabelle rubbed her pregnant stomach. Two other pregnant tributes sat on her side. Marshall set her hand on her flat stomach. Perhaps she should have insisted they be part of the processional. But that wasn't the 'Vider way and there were 'Viders in their weak vessels.

Mirabelle trembled, her shaking visible in the snaking motion of her long brown hair.

Marshall's fists clenched. Why hadn't the tribute died like she should have? As for her 'Vider... Marshall's gaze cut to the podium and the man behind it. That bastard actually looked like he would recover. North steadied the wobbly wooden speaker platform. For a moment, a ray of sunshine highlighted the chipped blue circle on the front. The fading eagle at the center faced toward the arrows in its left talons.

Mother shook her head. Gray hair covered her face like a curtain.

Marshall sucked in a calming breath. This was her day. She would deal with North later. And this time she wouldn't fail. She simply needed an opportunity to eliminate him.

It would come.

She just had to be patient. She paused on the last tribute's back and bounced softly. North's newest property. The young female's spine popped. Rumor had it, she was with child. Marshall would take care of that little problem, too.

Stepping back onto the dirt, she nodded to North and handed him the helmet.

Squaring his shoulders, he raised it high. "The Provider is dead! Long live the Provider!"

"Long live the Provider!" 'Viders chorused.

Fabric rustled as the tributes rose on all fours. They crawled on their hands and knees behind their 'Vider masters' legs before hunkering down into indistinct blobs. Screaming at the tops of their lungs, the children ran down the recently vacated aisle. They jumped and swung their dinner bones before dropping down in front of their fathers.

Marshall stared as North's youngest toddled to her mother. A daughter, still young enough to wear hair. She did not appear to be ill at all. Was the poison bad? The children should have been the first to die. Perhaps, the oleander extract worked best on tribute. Obviously, 'Vider blood could overcome it. Most likely, the bitch still lived because she carried a 'Vider.

The siren wailed again.

Marshall pinned her attention to the front.

Three young 'Viders paraded next. Each carried the heads of tonight's offering on spears. North's oldest daughter dipped hers toward the crowd. The severed head of Marshall's former tribute stared with unseeing eyes. Knives flashed. The young sitting on the ground, oohhed and opened their hands to catch the falling hair.

Smiling, Marshall clapped with the others. The young were always so eager to make their first hair shirt.

Once the offerings had been sufficiently scalped, the three pall bearers leaned the spears against the podium. North cut off a patch of matted gray hair from the severed head and passed it to his daughter. Giggling, she shook the lock in her hand before joining her mother and sister on the ground.

The pregnant bitch wrapped her arms around her stomach and groaned.

North's eyes narrowed as he studied his prized tribute.

Marshall's grin widened. Tributes were to remain silent during the ceremony. Perhaps North would beat her tonight. That should help her lose the baby.

The third siren swelled in the dusk. Its cry started as a low grumble. When it reached a high pitch, her advising jury began their march toward her. The 'Vider in front raised the rusted white siren high. The woman next to him draped the cloak of chipped blue scales around her shoulders. The procession stopped in front of Marshall.

At her side, North cleared his throat. "Marshall Zuni, do you freely accept the burdens of Office of Head Provider?"

She scanned the crowd. Her people——bald heads shining as the sun faded to a cold fire on the horizon. "I do."

"Words are nothing, Marshall Zuni. They do not put food in our bellies. They do not clothe our children. They do nothing but shield the weak, the forsaken."

A handful of men echoed his sentiments.

She lifted her chin. Perhaps 'Vider North enjoyed issuing the ceremonial challenge a bit too much.

"Are you weak and forsaken, Marshall Zuni?"

"No!" She yelled. Her heart hammered against her breastbone.

'Viders pounded on their armor.

When the clamor faded, North banged his fist on the podium. "Again, you give us words Marshall Zuni."

She tilted her head to the right, exposing her jugular to him. "I offer my blood."

North whipped out his knife and pressed it against her throat.

She held her breath. He could kill her now. Would kill her if he suspected she had poisoned his food. The blade bit into her flesh. Warmth trickled down her neck. Her heart ceased to beat. She locked her knees. No weakness. No doubts. No regrets.

"Your sacrifice is accepted." North grabbed her palm and sliced it open.

Pain burned up her arm. But she didn't cry out. She was the Head Provider, a descendant of four Providers. Blood quickly filled her palm, dripped between her fingers.

"Conceived in blood. Bathed in blood." After dipping his fingers into the small pool in her hand, he streaked his face with red. He lifted her hand and slurped up the liquid. "Sustained by blood."

"Conceived in blood. Bathed in blood. Sustained by blood." The 'Viders chanted. The young pounded their dinner bones on the ground.

North released her hand.

Marshall stepped toward her advising jury. One by one, they painted themselves and drank her blood. A handful of others came forward to do the same.

Her head grew light and an odd buzzing filled her ears. She swayed when a young one demanded a sip. She couldn't fail, not now. Not after everything she had done.

Finally no one else came forward.

She counted heartbeats, waiting for North to say the magic word.

At thirty, he pounded on the podium. "Marshall Zuni, your gift of blood has been accepted."

She fisted her hand, clenched it tight to stop the blood flow. The ceremony wasn't over yet. The hardest part still lay ahead. She licked her dry lips.

"Have you anything else to offer?"

"I offer the flesh of my body." With her bloody hand, she pointed to her mother and stopped. The pregnant bitch was gone; her two daughters had taken her seat.

Twisting at the waist, Mother retrieved a covered platter and held it above her head.

Shoving off the domed cover, Marshall grabbed the platter and offered it to North. Black charred the spit-roasted torso of her father, the previous head Provider. "By eating the flesh of my flesh, we become one family. One people. United."

North used his wet knife to carve off the choice piece around the nipple. His teeth flashed white as he ripped off a hunk. Juice glistened on his chin. "We accept your offer of flesh."

Marshall turned and held out the platter for the other six members.

"One people. United." The 'Viders chanted waiting their turn to be fed. "Livers, arms and eyes for all."

Ribs showed through as she turned to serve the 'Viders on her right.

She crouched, so the youngest could be served before their elders. Small fingers stripped the sweet flesh. The children smacked their lips as they chewed, but none went back for seconds. That would be ill-mannered.

"Marshall Zuni," North called from the podium, "recite the story of the Turning as you begin your life-long mission to feed, clothe, and protect your family."

She took a deep breath. The true test was here. She could do this. She'd practiced the story since she was ten. She knew this. The platter slipped against her blood palm and it tilted forward. She righted it before the torso fell off.

"A long time ago, the earth was crowded with people. So many they lived on top of each other and you couldn't travel far before encountering a stranger."

A girl 'Vider pulled off a strip of meat. Her eyes widened. "A stranger?"

Marshall nodded and raised the platter to the next in line. "Those not of the family were strangers. And strangers were not to be trusted."

"Blood matters." A woman 'Vider set her hand on the tot in front of her.

"The Great Spanner looked down from above and did not like what she saw."

The siren swelled in the night before choking off.

From the corner of her eye, she watched her advisors fiddle with the tail connecting the siren to the scaly-blue cloak. "The Great Spanner called upon her advisors germ and warfare to breathe their poisonous breath across the land. The foul wind, Ann Thrax, felled the sick, weak and puny but the strangers remained."

The siren screeched before once more falling silent.

Reaching the end of the line, Marshall spun on her boot’s heel and headed back up the other side. "The Great Spanner saw this and sought to smite the strangers. She spoke in a loud voice, that covered the land, ordering the chosen ones to abandon the den of the strangers and head into the wilds. She promised food, water, shelter and healing to those who stayed to the appointed path."

"Hail the Great Spanner!" Her people shouted.

"And there was food, water, shelter and healing as promised." Marshall crouched in front of an infant. Wisps of downy hair curled over his high forehead. Balancing the platter on one hand, she tore off a piece and eased it between the babe's lips.

"But strangers also followed and stole from chosen ones. The chosen ones were weak and the Great Spanner doubted their worthiness. Her voice fell silent."

The littlest 'Viders gasped. "Nooo."

"For the transgression of weakness, the Great Spanner took away the abundant food, water, shelter and healing. Once more, she unleashed Germ and Warfare. Their foul wind came back stronger than ever——flesh blacked and split with no fire. Bodies rotted from the inside out."

With the torso nearly picked clean, the last in line cracked the ribs with two hands before sucking out the marrow.

Her father had been a good provider. Even in death, he continued to feed his people without resorting to the lesser cuts. She would uphold the tradition, make him proud. "It was then the Great Spanner showed us the true path. We honor her and the survivors of old by shaving our heads."

The last man lifted the spine from the tray and gnawed on the scraps of flesh sticking to it.

Marshall held the tray to her lips and drank the juice. Once done, she offered the empty tray to her mother. The pregnant bitch still hadn't returned and now her daughters were missing too. The insult was not to be tolerated. Marshall would insist the tribute be taught a lesson in front of the clan.

"This appeased the Great One. The chosen ones made homes in the south and the land gave up its bounty offering food, water, clothing and shelter. But then the leader of the chosen kept his hair and refused to shave it."

Several 'Viders shook their heads.

"As punishment, the Great Spanner soured the land. Trees bore no fruit. Seeds did not sprout. Animals died where they stood. Water caused blisters in the mouth. The chosen became weak. Many died. More would have, but the Great One looked into the hearts of our ancestors and sent a stranger."

The little ones clapped.

Marshall stood in front of the podium and faced her clan. "At first, our people didn't know what to do with this man, but soon the Great Spanner sent a dream to the first Provider. She told him that survival went to the strongest. So the first Provider slew the stranger. As proof that this was in keeping with the Divine plan, another arrived. Then another. And another."

"All hail the Great Spanner!" North shouted behind her.

"Hail the Great Spanner!" Her clan's voice swelled as one around her.

"We pay tribute to her by fulfilling the mission she sent our people on all those winters ago. Our quest will not end until all strangers perish. Until only the chosen remain. We are conceived in blood, bathed in blood, and sustained by blood. It is our divine right to have dominion over the world."

The children jumped to their feet and tossed their dinner remains in the air. Men raised their fists and whooped. Bones rained down.

She beamed at them. It was done. And she hadn't stumbled over a single word of the turning. Air stirred behind her.

"Marshall Zuni, you have accepted the mantel of Head Provider and we have accepted." North slowly lowered the helmet to her head. "May the Great Spanner bless you with wisdom so the chosen, the 'Viders, continue to have food, water, clothing and shelter."

Her breathing echoed within the helmet. Power heated her blood. She would lead the people to even more fruitful lands. There would never be lean times again. "May the Great Spanner live within me."

All six advisors dropped to one knee and placed their hands over their hearts. "We pledge allegiance to the Provider. Where she stands, we are united."

Armor knocked together as the other 'Viders bowed before her. After all repeated the pledge, silence reined.

Marshall raised her fists above her head. None would move until she spoke the magic words. She opened her mouth.

Instead of her voice, a baby's cry shattered the night.

Chapter 14

"You have a fine baby boy." Nattie set the squalling infant on Belle's stomach.

Belle reached for her baby. A boy. She blinked back tears. Hers to hold for only a little while. Caressing his head, she smoothed aside his bloody hair then counted his fingers. Ten perfect ones. His toes. Ten wonderful ones.

Lifting him into her arms, she cleaned his face. Two slightly mushed ears. A button nose. Bright blue eyes that peeked at her before squeezing shut. His mouth opened revealing pink gums. No, no, no. He mustn't scream. Her shaking fingers fumbled with the buttons of her blouse.