Legend of Mace (31 page)

"Bring back a few Plaguer heads to mount on a pole," Crockett said with a smile as he shook Mace's hand firmly.

"Make this girl here, happy," Mace said in reply, nodding towards Kelly, who stood beside him. "That's your new job."

"Kelly," Mace said, "I'll miss your sarcasm almost as much as his," Mace said, nodding towards Crockett.

"Take care of yourselves and come back safe," she replied sincerely, her eyes growing misty.

As Mace made his way to the ambulance, he felt a knot grow in his throat, despite his lack of feeling. It felt incredibly liberating, like he was once again alive. Coming to Travis, he held his hand out and shook Travis' hand firmly. "I always knew you had it in you," Mace said as Travis stared at him in awe. "You're going to make a fine man, Travis. Raise a family and live a good life."

"I will," Travis said as he beamed. "I promise."

Seeing Woody ahead, Mace once again felt a deep sadness descend upon him. He couldn't help himself and hugged him, not entirely sure why. "You take good care of this camp," Mace said sternly as he pulled back and focused on the boy's face.

"I will," Woody replied. "I'll take what you taught me and add a measure of compassion." He winked as he tried to keep from getting emotional. He understood what Mace wanted from him.

As Mace started to move past, Woody started to break down. "Wait!" he said as feelings stirred within him. Looking up at Mace, Woody was momentarily speechless. "You saved our lives on so many occasions," he finally spit out. "There is no way we can ever thank you enough."

Mace smiled and once again longed to feel some warmness in his heart. "Change this world," he said in all sincerity. "Make it worth living in again."

Woody nodded and turned away to hide the tears that threatened to spill.

Holding the driver's door open for Mace, Roger looked on the verge of tears himself. "I will do everything in my power to take care of this camp and your family. I am truly humbled that you would trust me with such a huge responsibility."

Mace grabbed his shoulder, leaned in, and whispered, "Love Jade the way she deserves to be loved. She is the most special woman I've ever known."

Roger's face scrunched up at the words, trying not to get emotional. He simply nodded in response. As Mace climbed in the ambulance, Roger said, "If you change your minds, every family has a few oddballs that give it character. You'll always be welcome here."

Mace nodded as he turned the ignition. Through the open driver's side window, he said, "This camp has enough oddball characters, don't you think?"

With that, he put the vehicle in drive and moved it forward. As he passed through the front gate, Chelsea bolted from her house with Buster directly on her heels. "Wait!" she screamed. "Wait! Mom!"

Mace didn't hear her and kept driving. Chelsea sprinted past everyone, sobbing, suddenly  desperate to have one last moment with her mother.

Running out the front gate,  the dust trail from the ambulance pulled farther away until it was no longer visible.

"No!!" Chelsea screamed. "I missed her! I didn't get to say goodbye!" She doubled over in tears as she tried to breathe through the sobs. Tumbling to her knees, she wailed  as she sobbed harder, realizing she'd lost her mom for good.

Mace pulled the ambulance over after about two miles. Looking over at Lisa, he said, "We need to go back."

"Damn right we do," she said in agreement as she stared out the window. "I can't leave without saying goodbye to her."

Turning the ambulance around, Mace said sarcastically, "I wonder where she gets her stubbornness."

"Shut up, asshole," Lisa responded gruffly. "It's your fault. Always spoiling her."

"Somebody had to," Mace joked, "with such a crazy bitch for a mother..."

They both smiled wearily as they headed back towards camp.

As they drove back into view, Chelsea jumped to her feet and sprinted towards the ambulance. She cried out with relief as she waved her hands over her head. Pulling the ambulance to a stop in front of her, Chelsea ran up to Lisa's side, crashed against it, and cried out, "I'm sorry! Oh my God, I'm so sorry, Mom! I love you! I'm so sorry I let you drive off without saying goodbye!"

Tears streamed down Lisa's face. Despite her condition, Chelsea could still reach the small part of her heart that still existed. "I know,"  Lisa said, "I know," as she stared intensely at her daughter. "I'm sorry, too. I never wanted to leave you. Know that I love you more than anything else in this world. I couldn't bear the thought of leaving without saying goodbye."

Chelsea stared at her for the longest time, wanting to reach out and touch her but knowing it would cause her too much pain. "I'll never forget you," Chelsea finally said as she started sobbing again. "I'll be strong, I promise. I'll make you proud."

"I'm already so proud of you, baby," Lisa said. "I want you to live a good and happy life."

From the driver's side, Mace's face was once again wet with tears. Chelsea always  held a special place in his heart. "You take care of yourself," he said solemnly, "and try not to adopt a million more pets."

He couldn't take anymore and started pulling away.

"I love you, Mason Macaraboni!" Chelsea yelled as he turned the vehicle around. Facing her, Mace winked at her as he pulled away. "I love you, too," he said quietly as he watched her grow smaller in the rear-view mirror. She started running after them.  After a minute, she disappeared from view.

As Mace drove away from San Antonio, TX, he said, "Well, that was something."

Lisa stared out the window as they drove, reflecting on what they'd just left. "There was no other way, was there?"

Mace glanced at her while driving. "Well, for one, you're dying, remember. You said you didn't want to fade away in some hospital bed. Second, if you weren't sick, we'd both be climbing the walls with no one to fight or kill. It's in our blood. We'd start imploding and take it out on the camp."

Lisa didn't look at him. "Yeah, you're right," she said quietly as she stared at the passing landscape.

"It's better this way," he reaffirmed. "Without us there, they can focus on creating a better way of life. We were only going to bring them down."

They drove in silence for a while before Lisa spoke again."I'm really tired of living this way," she said softly.

Eight hours later they pulled over outside Dallas to set up camp before dark. They'd rode in complete silence all the way. They hadn't run into a single soul along the journey.

"Stay in here until I get everything set up," Mace said before exiting the ambulance. "We'll see if we can't refill some of the gas cans in the morning."

"Yes, boss," Lisa responded weakly. She looked worse. The emotional toll of leaving wasn't helping her situation.

They remained silent the rest of the night, lost in their own thoughts.

Waking the next morning, Mace rolled over inside their two-person tent and stared silently at Lisa. He didn't need to ask if she was okay. He'd seen death too many times before. He stared at her quietly for an hour before finally getting up. It was the most peaceful he'd ever seen her.

He spent the next several hours silently digging her grave. He looked up at the sky during a short break and wiped his brow. He couldn't help but wonder if the peaceful look on her face went beyond a tranquil countenance. Carefully lowering her body into the hole, he felt the darkness pull at him again. There was nothing holding him back now: No camp, no family, no responsibility to keep it in check. That scared him. He was now free to release the madness within. He was completely alone.

After finding enough fuel to fill the gas containers, he hit the road again. Reaching dizzying speeds, his face remained stoic as he drove for two straight days, only stopping long enough to relieve himself, search for gas or clear debris. His focus was completely on the Plaguers and ending the infection for good.

Approaching Louisville, KY, a little after midnight on the second day, he slowed the ambulance down after spotting bonfires in the distance. Killing the lights, he stopped and pulled to the side of the road, checking the area with binoculars.

He figured  it must be Plaguers by the size of the group. He got back in the ambulance and pulled up to their camp. The camp sprang to life as soon as he approached, and he was greeted by angry faces and rifles. Mace exited the vehicle carefully as the Plaguers surrounded him. 

"Don't move," a big, dumb-looking Plaguer commanded as Mace lifted his hands over his head. "We need to check you for weapons."

"I've got a handgun in a hip holster under the jacket," Mace said calmly, keeping his hands raised. "I'm not a threat. I'm hunting down witches. I have gifts for the great leader."

The dumb-looking Plaguer seemed confused. Others started whispering amongst themselves at the announcement.

"What great leader?" the dumb-looking one finally asked.

Answering a question with a question, Maced asked, "Where are you heading?"

"The battle is up North. We're heading to New York to join our brothers."

Impressed at what he'd started so easily in San Antonio, Mace said, "I am heading there as well. Marty, our great leader and prophet, awaits my arrival." He figured if he'd planted the suggestion in San Antonio to Marty and that group of Plaguers, they should be the leaders of the overall group.

"Marty, the great leader," the dumb-one repeated, and the suggestion took root. As the implication of a prophet expanded, the psychic Plaguer connection carried it even further, allowing it to grow in significance.

"I have seven cases in the ambulance. I travel to present them to Marty. With them in his possession, the curse will be ended. It is my destiny."

Enthusiasm spread throughout the crowd as they learned the key to victory now rested inside their campground. They looked towards Mace with reverence.

"I would be honored if you would assist me in this great moment," Mace said as he pictured the mass-murder to come. His body tingled as he imagined the end in sight.

The next morning as the group gathered up its things, Mace couldn't hold in the pull of the infection any longer. Creeping up behind a Plaguer that was off by himself,  Mace's blade sliced across the Plaguer's throat before his presence was even acknowledged.  Breathing in deeply at the completion of the act, Mace quickly disposed of the body. If he didn't give in to the darkness, he knew he would eventually explode. He needed to keep it released in order to finish his mission. As the others gathered to leave and noticed the Plaguer's absence, Mace identified himself as a Mystic.

"Our brother was chosen by Gozer to be released from this mortal coil," Mace explained, longing to be free of it himself. "He is with Gozer now, in paradise. It was his destiny." His nightmare would soon be over. "Our mission is a holy one," he continued, feeling nothing inside. "Travel with me and many more of you will discover that Bliss." He could already feel the call of the darkness. 

Excitement spread through the crowd as they thought of being picked for such a divine gift. It took two more weeks for the group to reach New York. As Mace grew restless over the slow pace, eighteen more of the forty-three left were mysteriously chosen by Gozer.

The closer they got to New York, the more Plaguer groups they came into contact with. Their overall numbers reached tens of thousands as they entered the city searching for the elusive center of Plaguer activity and frontline of the war against the great Curse. People abandoned their cars as the area became too congested to drive through. Many collapsed and died as they marched, too weak to continue but unable to resist the pull of their calling.

Mace longed to free the world from the Plaguers fanatical existence. They were unpredictable and delirious. With this one last act his role as warrior and protector would be finished. He would finally be free. It was almost time to meet his Maker. 

As they left their vehicles and entered New York City, Mace climbed into the back of the ambulance and opened each case, setting the timers. In seven hours all the nukes would explode. He hoped that would give them enough time to reach the epicenter of Plaguer existence. Opening the side doors, he handed the cases to those in his party who had not yet experienced the pleasure of his Rapture.

Following the throngs of mad pilgrims, he was utterly surprised when word spread through the crowd that Marty, their leader and prophet, would be speaking again at Madison Square Garden in preparation for the final battle.

As enthusiasm grew behind Mace's suggestion and the Plaguer groups connected, the new belief advanced like a wireless transmission throughout the airwaves. Reaching New York far in advance of Mace's own group, Marty's brain suddenly felt enlightened, and those around him turned to him for their every need.

Feeling like he was in some hallucinatory nightmare as the crowd finally made their way towards the Garden, Mace couldn't understand how the building itself could still be standing. Years after the Apocalypse, its condition was a stark reminder of the destruction of their world. Dark and dilapidated, the closer Mace got to the building, the worse it appeared. Huge panes of glass were missing altogether, while others were shattered and broken, with glass scattered everywhere. Part of the structure had burned. 

The closer Mace came to their meeting place, the greater his sense of peace. As the crowds grew tighter, he actually laughed out loud as Plaguers brushed against him, eager to get inside. They were rushing to their deaths, he thought. The end was near. For all of them.

Once inside, torches lit the arena, creating an off-kilter, drugged type of experience. The stands teemed with dirty Plaguers, who all chanted together, "Kill, kill, kill..." They repeated the word over and over and over again.

Those that arrived with Mace quickly spread word that he carried the answer to the dreaded curse. Marty himself sought his counsel as he prepared to address the crowd. As Mace walked into his private room, Marty's expression couldn't have been more surprised. Or pleased.