Lycan Fallout: Rise Of The Werewolf (5 page)

“Camping outside the city and waiting until morning would have been the least suspicious thing,” I told him.

“Didn’t even think of that.” Tommy answered.

“How old are you?”

“Here,” Tommy said, handing over a small bag.

I opened it up. “Is this gold?” I asked looking up at him.

“Why don’t you shout it? That ought to make us real popular.”

“Sorry.”

“How old are you?” he asked me.

“Fine…we’re even. But why are you giving me this?”

“I’m sure at some point you’re not going to listen to me and go try that mead. If you don’t pay for it, they’ll flog you.”

“Flog? What is this Thailand?”

“You’ve got to be careful with the words you use. There is no Thailand anymore and none of these people have ever heard of it. You start talking about airplanes and satellite TV and they’ll start calling you a witch.”

“Boston Bruins?”

“No, Mr. T.”

“What am I going to talk about? Tumbleweeds?”

“They don’t have those either. I’ll say it again, we should just get a couple of rooms and you should rest.”

On one side
, that sounded like the most sage advice I’d ever been presented with; low key meant no trouble. On the other side though, I was curious, how many opportunities did one have to see the rebuilding of civilization?

Tommy gave a stable boy some coins and he led the horses off to be housed and groomed. We walked into a house that Tommy told me
, at one time, had been a funeral home and was now the only hotel in Robert’s Land. It was not a thriving business as the town did not receive many guests. My guess was its primary revenue was derived when soe mived whme local citizen wanted to have a roll in the hay with a woman of ill repute. Might be a new world, but men had been paying for sex since Cathy Cavewoman decided she wanted new deer-skin boots. A thick layer of dust covered the cloth that was draped over what I was sure was once the steel table that cadavers were drained of all their internal fluids.

“Ambience is everything,” I mumbled as we approached.

“I don’t want no trouble,” was the first thing out of the concierge’s mouth.

“How is this place for amenities?” I asked. “Three star, four star
s perhaps?” I asked looking around.

Tommy smacked me in the shoulder. “We just want a couple of rooms for the night.”

“Full up,” he said as he looked down to a shelf that I’m sure housed weaponry of some sort.

“Comic-con?” I asked.

The man looked at me with a sneer. “What’s wrong with your friend?” the man asked, stooping lower so his hand was within grasping distance of whatever was down there.

“He’s got the dumbs,” Tommy answered.

The man relaxed somewhat – but not completely. “He don’t look like he’s got the dumbs.”

“Trust me, he’s got the dumbs. He ran off into the woods nearly six months ago and his mother paid me a handsome reward to bring him back.”

“She would have been better off letting him roam.”

“I agree,” Tommy stated. “A mother’s love...” he let trail off as if that explained everything. And I guess it did. “I’ll pay for two night’s stay for the night, if anything opens up.”

The man did a good show of looking at the nearly full rack of keys behind him. “I think we can muster up one room. It’ll cost you two nights for two rooms though. Especially on such short notice.”

My blood was boiling and I was about to let loose with a litany of abusive terms that no one on this side of the apocalypse had ever heard. I would have too, had Tommy not gripped my forearm so hard I thought he was going to grind my bones into meal. Oggie could sense my distress and barked once.

“The dog will cost extra.”

“Of course,” Tommy said, smiling. Tommy handed over the coins
and the man handed over a key.

“Out by first light or I’ll call the Judge.”

“Again…understood. Thank you.”

The man had already stopped paying attention to us as he looked greedily at the money in his hand.

“Dick-head,” I mumbled, his gaze shot up. I rolled my eyes and twirled my finger next to my temple. “Twas the dumbs!” I shouted.

***

“There’s only one bed,” I said to Tommy as we walked into our room. “And that thing they’re calling a mattress looks like it’s been steeped in seminal fluid.”

t>
“You know you’re impervious to germs now, right?” Tommy asked, putting down his small saddlebag.

“Doesn’t mean I like them. Who knows, maybe there’s a new vampire super strain out there.”

“How has so much time elapsed and you’re still the same?”

“It’s a talent,” I told him.

“I’m going to make sure that what we need will be available
. If I leave you here alone, will you be alright?” Tommy asked with concern.

“I’m not a child.”

“You are to me.”

“Fair enough, I’ll be fine.”

When Tommy left, I sat in a wooden chair in the corner somewhat secure in the knowledge that there shouldn’t be too much microscopic swill swimming around on its surface. Oggie was pacing about; he kept looking at the door. I knew that look; he had to go. It wasn’t usually a problem because he would just wander about until he found a decent clearing and let loose. But now, he was confined and the dog really did like to crap in peace and quiet. So much so, that if he even thought I was looking his way, he’d move behind a tree or bush.

“And so it begins,” I said as I opened the door and we went down the stairs and out into the burgeoning night.

Purpose seemed a little out of sorts with no soft grass in which to take care of his business. I led him down to the tavern, mistakenly thinking there might be some grass down that way. He dropped his offering in a small alleyway. I wondered if there was a city ordinance that required me to pick that up or not. I figured I hadn’t seen anything, so I would go with ignorance of the law. I opened the door to a ramshackle establishment; slightly bummed it wasn’t the double swinging door from the movies.

“We don’t serve them in here,” the bartender said as we walked in.

“It’s alright, the dog will vouch for me,” I said.

“The dog, we don’t allow dogs in here. What are you…stupid?”

“Apparently, but I have money.”

“Let me see it first, and then I’ll decide if he can stay.”

I really should have gotten clarification from Tommy before I flipped the man a gold piece. When his eyes grew to twice their size I knew I had showed too many cards.

“Dog can stay then?” I asked.

He quickly dropped the coin in his pocket. “As long as he doesn’t disturb my other customers.”

“Yeah
, wouldn’t want to wake the guy up in the corner.”

“What do you want?”

“My friend here will take the finest bowl of water you have and what the hell, I’ll try this mead stuff,” I told him.

Oggie hopped onto a chair at an old card table
and I pulled a chair up next to him. He waited patiently as the man dropped him a bowl then handed me a cloudy mug of what I guess was mead. It looked like oatmeal and smelled as bad. He was headinghe was he away.

“No chance you’ve got a nice pilsner or lager hanging out back there do you? Shit
, I’d take a stout right now,” I said, lifting the mug up, trying to look through the liquid.

“I don’t know where you’re from and I don’t care. I’ve never heard of those drinks so don’t ask me again,” he answered brusquely.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” I said as I ate through the top layer.

“I like the dog more than I like you,” he said when he got back behind the bar.

“Most people would probably agree with you.”

He went back to pretending to clean the glasses, but the rag he was using was dirtier than anything he was attempting to clean. I hoped my halfling blood was as strong as Tommy said, or
that the mead had some anti-bacterial properties. Although looking at this crap, I bet mushrooms could grow in it.

Maybe it was because I’d gone a hundred and fifty years without a drink, or the mead was particularly strong, but I choked down three of them and I had a decent buzz by the time I pushed back my chair. Well, ‘push back’ isn’t quite right, more like fell over
. Hey, it was a cheap piece of plastic lawn furniture. Oggie jumped down nimbly to lick my face as I rolled to get up.

“You should go,” the bartender said with a slight hint of nervousness. I saw him look through a window before he said something. My dulled senses were still able to pick up on it.

“You call someone to way lay me? Take my money perhaps?”

He nervously licked his lips.

“I’m telling you right now if you value any of the people out there you should call them off.”

“Get out,” he said sternly.

“When I’m done with them, I’m coming back here.”

“Get out!” he shouted loud enough to wake his only other customer.

“Oggie,” I said, getting down to the mutt’s level, I grabbed his face. “I hope you don’t think any less of me for what I’m about to do.” His tail was wagging. “And whatever you do don’t get involved.”

I had a slight stumble as I headed for the door, even missed the knob the first time I reached for it. I had no sooner stepped onto the wooden plank
-way when I heard the door lock behind me.

“That won’t help you,” I told him
as the shades were quickly drawn. “Douchebag,” I mumbled. “Bet you never heard that word before either. I’ll have a few more for you when I get back.” I heard the crack of a bullwhip. I, at first, had mistaken it as a firecracker it was that loud. I turned to see the origin of the sound. A large man with a whip flanked by two good-sized men approached.

“Hello, pardner,” I said. “What are the chances you know someone named Durgan? I guessed I’d always hoped all the true assholes would have died with the rest, apparently
this was more than I could hope for.”

He paused but did not soreut did peak
. Who knows maybe it was beyond his capability. I think he was a little off put that I wasn’t crying for my mama. The whip cracked again, I’ve got to admit, it was impressive. The other two men fanned out, one had a long knife the other a rake.

“You’re kidding right?” I asked. “You brought a rake to a mugging.”

“Oh, this ain’t no mugging,
pardner
,” the man with the whip snarled. “This is a good old-fashioned murder.”

“Well
, I don’t know what jury is going to consider this a murder, it’s merely self-defense on my part,” I told him.

“What’s he talking about Clyde?” the one with the knife asked.

“Shut up and gut him,” Clyde told the knife wielder.

“There’s no harm yet. I suggest you go back home to your butchering duties,” I told the man as he approached. He hesitated, and then kept coming. “Fine, have it your way.” I sat down on the small
boardwalk, my legs out in front of me on the hard dirt-packed roadway. I patted Oggie’s massive head as he sat next to me.

“What are you doing?” the man asked.

“What’s your name?” I asked as he halved the distance.

“Lionel.”

“What are you two doing? Get a room!” Clyde shouted.

“Lionel, got a wife? Kids maybe?” His head bobbed as I asked the question. “I will kill you if you come closer. Do you believe me?” I asked, looking over at him menacingly.

“I do,” he gulped.

“Here’s a gold coin.” I flipped him one out of the bag. His eyes grew bigger than the barkeeps. “I would imagine that will keep you and your family in whatever passes for food in this time for a long while. Now get the fuck out of here.” He looked over once at Clyde and bolted.