Music City Macabre: The Low Lying Lands Saga: Vol. 1 (19 page)

“Listen, you two. We need him if we’re going to stop Kade. I’m not saying you have to like him, you can hate is his everlovin’ guts if you want, but we can’t do this without him.”

Cole snapped, “What are you talking about, Prescott? What
this
could you possibly mean? We have no shot in hell of stopping Kade. Not anymore. We are three people against an army of bloodthirsty Freaks. We’re outgunned, outmanned, we have no plan, and we have no shot!”

“He’s right,” said Shields. “We just need to pack up what we can and fall back to a new safe zone. What about your friend, Jay, in Normal? Would he take us in?”

“I’m sure he would, no doubt. Jay is always on the lookout for more hands. He’s got several irons in the fire when it comes to the War on Freaks. But Shields, Laura, you can’t cut and run now. Especially not now.”

“You heard Cole. He’s right. We don’t have the personnel or the weapons to launch any kind of an offensive whatsoever. This fully staffed Safe Zone couldn’t defend itself from Kade’s forces. What in the name of all that’s holy makes you think that three people could take him down?”

“Four,” I said.

“Four, what?” Said Shields

“There are four of us. Three Regulars plus one angel.”

“Fuck you, Prescott,” interjected Cole from the floor, where he still looked dazed.

“Listen to me! What is wrong with you people? Why am I willing to fight for a hundred and fifty dead people I don’t even know? Your
friends
! Your
Family!
You two are a couple of fucking cowards!”

“NO!” Cole roared with a primal rage very reminiscent of my own from
The 88
. He was up faster than I would’ve thought possible and cleared the space between us in seconds. I watched it unfold right before me but couldn’t connect the dots to defend myself before he was on me. Cole tackled me to the ground, straddled my chest, and threw wild haymakers at my face and head. I was blocking the meat of the punches with my forearms but my lights were flickering.

“How dare you, Prescott! How God Damn dare you! You have a lot of nerve to spew that kinda crap to us. You rolled into town with a built in death wish and everyone else be damned. How dare you…” He was heaving heavily, and losing steam fast. I don’t think he’d expended that much energy in a long time. “….try and claim, in ANY fashion that you care for our friends. Because you don’t. Damn you Prescott. Damn you…” He stopped throwing punches, got up off of me, and walked away.

“Seriously...What is wrong with you?” With that, Shields walked away in the opposite direction from Cole. I just inadvertently broke up the band. I stood practically in the center of the room, with my hand on my forehead, contemplating how badly I had just screwed up this entire situation. Well, Malcolm started the fire, I just poured ten gallons of gas on it. What the hell was I going to do now? I had a few guns, no friends, an impossible mission, and a rocket on top of my Jeep.

Oh! A rocket on top of my Jeep. A rocket...on top...of my Jeep. Come here, crazy plan. Come on. Come here. Yes! Lexi sauntered over and nudged me with her muzzle. I looked down at the beautiful German Shepard, who in just a couple of days had made a serious impact on my heart. I smiled at her, “I have a suicidal plan Lex. I doubt I’ll make it through. Are you with me?” She barked enthusiastically. My heart melted. I didn’t want to think about anything happening to my dog. But I wasn’t going to leave her with anyone one else. We had found each other at a critical juncture in both of our lives and we were already bound together. There was no one or the other. From now on, we were going to face every challenge together. “OK, girl. Let’s go to the Jeep and see about some food. Then I have to make a call.”

It was getting well into the evening and neither Cole, Shields, or Malcolm had returned to the Student Union. After several hours of sitting in silence, Lexi and I decided to go back to the Jeep. I made my call and was pleased with the result. All I had to do now was wait. This, of course, was never my strong suit.

I boiled a box of plain spaghetti and Lexi and I ate like royalty, except not really. In the end, I gave Lexi most of mine because, well, she’s a growing girl and needs her sustenance. I can shoot somebody’s ass but she needs to be able to rip their throat out. I mean, come to think of it, I’ve never seen a Freak-dog before. But on the other hand, do I really want to risk it?
What are you talking about Prescott? Go to sleep.
Question: Was that my thought or Malcolm’s? I climbed into the Jeep and whistled for Lexi jump up. I had lowered the seat backs, and while it was a bit short, I have to admit it felt nice in there, just Lexi and me. Comfortable. Safe. I turned on the fog lights for a measure of safety. Maybe the Freaks couldn’t tell we were sleeping. I drifted off with Lexi’s head across my lap and my hand resting on the scruff of her neck.

NIGHTMARES AND DREAMSCAPES

I was stirring in my sleep and eventually the cramped space and sixty pound dog made sleep impossible. I opened the door, eased out from under Lexi and stepped out...into somewhere. The lights on the fog light bar flickered briefly, then died, but sight was not a problem, as the sky was a stunning canvas of radiant red hues mixed with dark orange. It was pretty damn hot, too, and I was sweating rather profusely after only a few steps. Where was I going? Don’t know. I had no idea where I was.

It’s difficult to trust my eyes because I truly don’t know what’s happening, but surveying the land in a three-hundred and sixty degree turn, I see desert. A very flat desert with sparse vegetation. Just a handful of cactuses and very little foliage for as far as I can see. Oh, and my Jeep with Lexi inside vanished into the heat waves radiating from the blistering grains of sand.

I start walking after the realization that standing still is futile. Jesus it’s hot. There has to be some water somewhere. But if this is a dream, do I actually need water? Is this a dream? I’ve learned in the last couple of days that demons
and
angels exist. Along, apparently, with other planes of existence. Maybe this is one of those other planes? I simply don’t know.

I’m noticing a change in the landscape up ahead in the distance. It’s actually happening all around me. A blacktop highway is materializing under my feet and it’s leading straight ahead for an indeterminate number of miles to a mountain that is rising up out of the desert sand. Grass and vegetation begin to cover the sand until the desert scenario has dissolved all together. The temperature is gradually dropping, and this now looks like a peaceful countryside. What the heck is going on?

This must be a dream because I haven’t walked but half a mile and I’m at the base of the mountain. I’m not wild about having to walk up this mountain, even though the road leads the way. As if on cue, the mountain erodes into the ground with massive effort but not a single sound.

In front of me is a cottage of a general design. The paint is worn and peeling. Its windows are distressed, uneven, and open. The A-frame roof is rusted metal, and the front door sits haphazardly cracked open. There are flower beds surrounding the cottage but the flowers need water, as they are dry and lifeless. Last but not least is a white picket fence that just sits in front of the cottage. There are no posts. It doesn’t travel the circumference of the property. One solitary line of powerfully white fencing. Whoever’s creating this scene really wanted a white picket fence to matter.

I guess it’s showtime. I unlatched the gate to the fence and approached the door with fairly mild apprehension. I didn’t have the overwhelming feeling that I was in danger because the backdrop had shifted favorably each time I basically complained about it. Somebody wanted to talk to me and they chose this venue to do it. Still though, something about a door in an unfamiliar, to say the least, situation made me reach for my Glock. The shoulder holster and the guns were gone.

“You won’t need those, Prescott. Please, come in. We should talk about your utterly stupid plan.”

“Malcolm?”

“Yes. For goodness sakes, man, I left the door cracked, will you please open it and come in,” he said.

I pushed open the door slowly and entered the sparsely decorated cottage to find Malcolm sitting at a quaint wooden dining table with two chairs. He occupied one and gestured with his hand towards the empty one. He looked...different. I mean he was still dressed in the blue jeans, boots, and navy blue button down shirt, but how do you explain what I’m seeing? He was himself but he had changed.

“You’re right. I have changed. I’m angry. I’m conflicted.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Because you are the source of my anger. And frankly, I don’t get angry, so I’m not dealing with it well.”

“HA! Now that is rich there, Nicholas Cage. You sat on your winged ass while close to two hundred people were slaughtered and you’re mad at me? Please explain that to me.”

“I will not defend myself to you. I am an angel of the Lord and I follow the orders I am given by my Lord Commander!”

“I don’t give a fuck if you’re Jesus himself , you cannot allow even one person to die, much less over a hundred, and expect even a shred of sympathy from me or anyone else!”

“I don’t expect you or Cole, or even Shields, to understand, but if I intervene in the rightful progression of life it could kill me. Angels are born of the light of God. We might go several millennia before gaining the privilege of walking among the humans. I have been a faithful soldier for longer than I can recall. When granted passage to the Low Lying Lands, it was with explicit instructions only to observe. No physical intervention. That was the only...uh…wiggle room there was. I can observe, report, and inform. And that is what I did.

“And? What else?” I asked pointedly.

“What do you mean?” asked Malcolm.

“Don’t give me that crap, man. If you’ve been in my head since Chicago, you had some other assignment that involved me. Because, how the hell would you even know or care about who I was and what I was doing in
The 88
?”

Malcolm looked totally defeated. “Mr. Prescott. You have been on the Lord Commander’s radar for some time. You are already a Point of Light, and have been since before the event you call The Descent. It is why you survived when your friend Cooper did not. It also why you walked out of
The 88
.

“Had Chaos chosen to engage you physically while inhabiting your father, the result would have taken its natural course and you would’ve died. As a Point of Light,
you are protected in life to perform your good deeds, but a demon as powerful as Chaos we never saw coming. The Descent, in your simple words, threw Heaven for a loop.

“Before The Descent, Heaven had what you might call an...interactive map of the Low Lying Lands.”

“You mean you were able to watch Earth?”

“Yes. We, as you say, have been watching the Low-Lyers for millennia. Our council has sent watchers, for lack of a better term, for equally as long. You may not feel like it, Prescott, but you are a Point of Light, and you must be protected to maximum degree possible.
The 88
stretched us immensely, but we got you out of there. I couldn’t do it alone. But that was a one-time occurrence. That is why I brought you here. To explain to you without interference from any outside sources. If you proceed with the plan you have forged, you will die. And if you die, countless acts of heroism, kindness, and servitude that you haven’t even performed yet will die with you. Kendrick Kade is not your fight. I can fully understand that hearing this from me is...discouraging. But you must listen.

“Kade is different. He is what you would call a Freak, but he’s...different.”

“You said that, already.”

“Dammit, Prescott, listen! He doesn’t just have the essence of Chaos...it is more like...a piece. I can’t stress this enough. If you confront him alone, you will die.”

“Fair enough. I guess you better come with me.”

“I do not, I will NOT fight!”

“Fine. I get it. You’re a pussy. I’d like to wake up now. This is useless.” I turned and walked back towards the door to the cottage. As I walked out, the scene blurred like a drunk artist’s abstract painting. I closed my eyes because my stomach was starting to turn upside down. The last thing I heard was Malcolm shouting “Your plan will fail! Do not do this!”

I woke up with a start, Malcolm’s voice still ringing in my head. I didn’t have time to fuck around anymore. “Come on Lex, we need to get to the bottom of this right now.” I opened the door and thought I would just hop right out but
oh, my God
, my body hurt in every possible way from sleeping in the cramped quarters of the Jeep. “OK, so we take a minute and walk it off. Right girl? You seem just fine. What? You didn’t have a nice countryside chat with Rin Tin Tin last night? Dammit. All right, girl. come on.”

Lexi and I strode somewhat confidently down the hall, back towards the front lobby of the Student Union. She had no idea what the plan was, but she knew she was going to follow me wherever I went.
Damn fine dog you had there, Cory Stalker. I’m glad you didn’t pull the trigger.
Our long walk down the hallway showed brand new destruction. There was a ton of shattered glass everywhere. Middle Tennessee State University should’ve really reconsidered all the glass. But then again, I guess their design never factored in the fall of society and stark raving mad half-breed lunatics.
Maybe next time, Middle.