Fallocaust (The Fallocaust Series) (17 page)

I paused, still pressing my blade up against the kid. The whole world suddenly went quiet around me. The kid was tuned out, the world was tuned out.
I stared at him.
“Killian’s alive?”
The leader struggled, his eyes burned into my own. “Let my boy go, I’ll tell you where.”
“He’s free, you have my word. Where is Killian?” I said flatly.
The leader looked down at his sobbing son and watched as I took the blade away from his ass, the tip glistening red.
“Typhus Canyon Factory,” the leader replied. “We get more tokens if they’re alive. The sooner you fuck off the better chance he’ll still
be
alive.”
My eyes traced his face for deception but I saw nothing. I didn’t know why but I almost felt angry at the false hope he had given me.

He stared back at me as our eyes continued to lock, in a stare down that we both knew would only have one winner. The once confident countenance was shattered and now the leader just looked afraid. Though none of that fear was for himself, that much I had gagged. It was all for this boy on top of him. This boy was his world, he had taken my world from me.

In a fluid motion, I brought back the machete and drove it into the kid’s ass. I got it half way up the blade before the tip hit a bone.

The kid screamed and struggled for a few moments, before collapsed on top of his father. I pushed down on the handle, moving the tip over the bone and pushed the remainder of the blade slowly into him. When I was done, only the plastic handle was sticking out of his ass.
I watched him cough blood as he choked, droplets sprayed over his father’s face like spray paint. His father was silent, his face was frozen in incomprehensible shock. The kid choked and moaned, then he started seizing. The last movements of a dying man.
I stood up and drank in the scene. The father’s look of horror filled me up with such joy I couldn’t put it into words. Blood ran all over his chest, as it dripped from the boy’s slacked mouth. It fell onto the blue lion emblem on his armor and blended together to almost create purple. The boy, no longer twitching, just lay there, half naked, with the plastic handle sticking up out of him. His white skin, such a contrast to the deep reds of his blood.

Such colours, every single of of them shimmering in the firelight, like the surface of a lake under the full moon. It was like art.

Beautiful.
I walked over to the shell shocked leader, leaned down and patted his cheek.
“I told you you should be more afraid to live,” I whispered. I raised my combat knife and cut his binds free. Greyson let go of his leg as I did and stood up.
“If you can find your way to safety, you’re free to live,” I said with a smile.
“My... my knees,” the leader managed to choked, when I turned around to walk away from him he still had the boy slumped over him.
“I see it... as a challenge,” I called back to him. I heard Greyson continue swearing under his breath.
“Jesus fuck, Reaver,” Greyson whispered, he sounded thoroughly horrified by my actions, but his opinion of me was the last thing on my mind.
Killian could still be alive.
I leaned down and picked up a second machete that was resting beside one of their sleeping mats, with a smile on my face I spun it up in the air and caught it. I was about to say something to Greyson when something out of the corner of my eye made me turn.
“REAVER DUCK!” Greyson suddenly screamed.
As my head turned, I saw him with the gun. I don’t know how he got it.
The leader, a look of agony on his blood splattered face pointed it at me. I could see a flash of light as he pulled the trigger. I could see Greyson’s face in a slow motion. I had never seen him more scared.
I felt a powerful impact on my head, right above my forehead. It almost knocked me off of my feet. Then a split second later, another cracking bang, followed by another impact, this time on the side of my head.
My mind went fuzzy. I stumbled around confused, not knowing what just happened.
The world started to spin, I could hear Greyson screaming
NO
over and over again, and then my name. Wow... was he ever screaming. Why? I was fine.
I felt another impact on my head. I was able to take two more steps forward. Before everything went black.

Burning.

Burning inside my chest, a colourless void that seemed to hold only a single flame. I felt it feed on its self, becoming stronger and stronger with each passing moment. Though it wasn’t a good feeling, it hurt like my head was being seared by the surface of the sun. It seemed to take me to the edge of madness again and again only to bring me back with white hot hands.

I tried to scream but I didn’t have a mouth. I was in darkness, though nothing was black, it was just not there. I was scared, confused.
All I could feel was the heat, and a steady drumming in the background that could’ve been my heartbeat.
Killian.

Eventually I remembered who he was, I thought of him. I knew he was near but I couldn’t reach him. I wanted to reach out to touch him but I had no hands. I wanted to call for him but I had no voice. Just pain all around me, burning and pain. I was floating in non existence, time was no longer relevant.
Then suddenly, after what seemed like forever. It was gone. By the time I realized I had a body again, I could see light through my eye lids.

I opened my eyes. seeing the dull grey sky above me. I was warm. Something was covering me. I could also hear the fire, near enough to me that I could feel the heat. The air smelled like burning flesh and car tires, it made me hungry.
“Hey...” Greyson’s voice said quietly, I heard a chuckle. “You woke up.”
“What happened?” I grimaced, I held my head. It was a steady cluster of dull and throbbing pain. As I moved my hand around I could feel several blood caked scabs.
“The leader pulled out a rubber bullet gun and shot you, three times in the fucking head. It knocked you out cold for a long time,” Greyson said, taking the blanket he had draped over me off. He helping me move myself to a car tire resting beside the fire.
I rubbed my head and moaned. “What the fuck did he have it for?”
“His son had had it in his uniform, I guess we didn’t see it. They use them to scare off scavers.”
Suddenly I shot up. “Killian? We have to get to the factory. Fuck it’s daylight, it’s been hours. What time is it?”
Greyson got up and raised his hands. “Just stay still for a moment, I don’t want you fucking passing out again.”
I shook my head. “No, I’m fine.” And I was, my head fucking pounded like hell, but I was feeling surprisingly good.
Greyson shook his head. “We need to get a game plan together first.” He kicked the fire out and grabbed his bag.
“All I need to know is where the factory is,” I said, I started walking down the raised highway towards the road.
“The same direction the truck was going,” Greyson said from behind me. “The factory is right over the ridge.”

I felt a pit in my stomach. That truck had been carrying Killian, an alive Killian. He must be so fucking scared, if he was still alive.
I swore at myself inside my head. He had to fucking be alive, he had to be. I wished my mind could do a better job at convincing me. A part of me felt ill knowing that he had been alive all this time. He must have been terrified, wondering where the hell I was. What if all this news just meant his pain and fear had been prolonged? That I wouldn’t even have a body to touch, or to take revenge on.
My heart started to ache.
If he was dead inside that factory...
I narrowed my eyes as I felt the rage start to bubble up inside me again. If he was dead, I would bomb the whole fucking factory and kill everyone inside.
“Wait a second, Reaver, I want to get some weapons and ammo from the caravan.” Greyson jogged in front of me.

I stared at him, the mechanics in my mind started to turn again. I watching the leader of Aras jog down to the stolen caravans and bosen. I had passed them, hidden under the exit ramp the previous night.

I walked up behind Greyson.

“The Dek’ko caravan isn’t here, I bet you anything the rep sold the merchants out to the legionnaires,” Greyson said bitterly. The metal cover over the caravan grinded and groaned as Greyson pushed it back, he jumped onto the top of the caravan and picked up a trunk. He slammed it down onto the dusty pavement below. “Weapons trunk, guns, ammo, explosives. We’re going to make quite a mess together, son.”
I smiled. My mind lit up as I spotted the burlap sack I knew was filled with explosives.

Yes, I remember Menkin had been selling C4 packs. I could stick them throughout the factory. With the detonator in my grasp. The explosion would be beautiful... the death toll high. Body parts and twisted metal would fall from the sky like rain.
What a way to go.
I looked at Greyson, the man I had known my entire life. I felt grateful towards him, he was willing to put his own life at risk to help me save someone important to me.
I watched as he talked on, though I wasn’t paying attention. My eyes just kept tracking every movement he made.

He was talking like we would be coming back, and I knew the possibility of me coming back was low. I wasn’t going to let Aras lose its leader, or Leo his partner. I couldn’t put my pseudo dad through what I was going through and worse. They had been together almost twenty years.

The blood bath would be mine, and mine alone.

I knew what I had to do.
I grabbed my combat knife, and struck him over the head with the end of the handle. He didn’t even see it coming.

I caught him as he fell backwards unconscious, and shushed him like you would a child. I dragged him over to one of the many cars underneath the onramp and laid him down beside a station wagon. It was underneath the exit ramp and well hidden. It was also a little less rusted than the other ones since it was more sheltered. It was perfect.
The trunk was already ajar, I lifted it up and checked to make sure it was empty. I then picked up Greyson and flopped his head and shoulders over the trunk.
“Heavy bastard,” I grunted. I grabbed his leg and rolled the rest of him in, before quickly jogging up and grabbing his bag. His gun was strapped to his back still but he always carried a pistol in the bag anyways.
Suddenly, to my confusion I heard a whine. I recognised that sound.
I gave a low pitch whistle, and I heard the whine again. It was a fucking deacon dog, one of the half breed chipped ones we sold to the merchants. I had heard that whine many times before.
I walked over to the noise, it was coming from the second caravan, pushed into a pile of rubble a few meters away from me. The bosen was standing beside it, still strapped to the wagon.
Sure enough, as I approached I saw a mound of grey fur moving around. I looked down to see one of the younger dogs, muzzled and hog tied to the back of the caravan.
I got an idea.
I cut the rope off of the deacon dog. It jumped to its feet and started licking my face. I pushed it away. “Stay down!” I ordered. Murry trained these dogs well before he sold them, I knew it could understand me. The deacon blood in them made them smarter than an average mutt.

It sat on the caravan, wiggling its ass like an idiot. I recognised this one. Killian used to volunteer at the kennels and he had walked this one and his litter mates a few times. It was an idiot, and way too friendly.
I opened up a large steamer trunk beside the dog and grabbed the first scrap piece of paper I could find. I looked around a bit more but I couldn’t find a writing tool. I didn’t need one though.
I pressed my finger against one of the wounds on my head, sure enough they were scabbed over with blood. I picked the scab off and started to write a quick note with my own blood.
3rd exit ramp West off the ferst crossing. Underneiths GM. – RVR
I tried to make it as cryptic as I could. Unless they knew what was going on, they wouldn’t know what exit ramp I meant. This was the best I could do. Worse to worse Greyson comes to and walks home. By the time that happened I would be long gone.
I tied the note around the deacdog’s neck. It looked at me with its tongue hanging out. Its yellow eyes gazed up at me like I was the god of the universe for untying him.
“Go home,” I ordered it.
The dog jumped off of the caravan and looked at me. It ran a few feet before circling back, it leaned down on its front paws and stuck his butt in the air like he wanted to play. I rolled my eyes, I had a low tolerance dogs, especially young ones.

“Go to Aras, Go home! Find Leo! Find Murry! GO!” I pointed towards Aras. The dog closed its mouth and sniffed the air; it seemed to understand. It started to run away, thankfully in the right direction.
There that took care of leaving Greyson behind. He can kick my ass when I came back. If he got the chance it was because I had Killian with me and if that was my reality he could beat the living shit out of me all he wanted.
I rummaged quickly through the armory trunk and like my plan, I pocketed all of the C-4. I stuffed the small five by five adhesive bricks into a burlap bag and loaded myself up with some excess ammo and guns I had found as well. I knew I was about to embark on quite the shooting spree.

After I had armed myself to the teeth, I looked ahead at the horizon. The hill the truck had been climbing up was only a few miles away. My mind was alight, both off of the possibility of Killian being alive and the though of massacring hundreds of people.
Today will be memorable. That was all I knew.
“I’m coming for you,” I said out loud.

Chapter 11

Leo

The greywastes were just a blur as Reno road hard on the pavement. It was a bumpy ride, he had had to cling onto Reno more than a few times, especially when he started weaving through cars, but he had remained on the four wheeler. The wind beat his face with its cold chill, he was glad for the goggles though he always thought they made him look foolish.

“No way I’m bringing the quad over highway 11, I want to cross at the bridge, it’s in the same direction as the the note said anyways,” Reno shouted over the engine.

They were on Reno’s four wheeler heading towards the pass Reaver had directed them to on his make shift note. Before the Fallocaust this area had been covered in active highways, junctions and interchanges. All were ruins now of course, streaked with a moldy black slime that seemed to eventually grow on everything made out of concrete.