Rise of the Mare (Fall of Man Book 2) (19 page)

And then I heard something else.

Gunshots.

“Get down!” someone yelled far in the
distance.

Were they talking to me? Were they
shooting at me? Fear filled me that they knew who I was, and then I
remember I barely resembled Nito the Ancient. However, to be
cautious, I dropped to the ground.

The male voice shouted again to ‘get
down’ and that was when I realized they were not yelling at me.
Relieved, I lifted my head and started to get up. The second I drew
to my knees I felt a hand on my shoulder and then I caught the odor
of rotting flesh.

My head cocked and there above me was
a Day Stalker. He snarled and lunged my way. Quickly, I grabbed my
walking stick and struck him. It wasn’t enough to kill it, though
it did stumble back and afforded me the chance to stand. When I
did, another emerged from the woods. I swung out at him. I may have
lost my Ancient powers, but I did know how to wield a sword and I
used the stick to my best advantage.

Two I could handle, but when a third
emerged, I knew my best option was to run. Hopefully, I would not
get shot by the humans.

What poetic justice it would be for
me. To return to the same place and be killed by the same monsters
I was responsible for.

I headed toward the openness of the
path’s end and as I reached it, another Day Stalker surged towards
me. Again, I struck out, but as he fell, he grabbed hold and pulled
me to the ground.

I kicked and fought, diligently
trying not to get bitten or torn apart. I even screamed out in my
struggle. It was no use, despite how hard I tried to keep the Day
Stalker from me, I was losing strength.

Blood and saliva poured from its
mouth and my arms weakened. I was ready to lose that battle when a
single pop of a gunshot rang out close by and the Day Stalker’s
head exploded.

Its carcass fell on me, and I shoved
it off in a panic.

Another shot. Then another.

I was trapped beneath the Day Stalker
until I felt a hand reach down for me.

“You okay?”

I couldn’t breathe, a wheezing noise
was the only sound I could make.

“Hey, are you bit?”

“No. No.” My hands shook and the man
helped me to my feet. I looked at the bodies of the Day Stalkers.
“You saved me. Thank you.”

“That was pretty close,” he said. He
was a tall man, and fit. He placed his weapon behind his shoulder.
“We don’t get people coming in this way. You’re pretty lucky we
were fighting these things. If not, they could’ve got ya.”

I picked up my belongings.

“Can I ask what you’re doing out
here?” He helped me gather my things from the ground.

“I traveled far. I want to join the
rebellion.”

He handed me my walking stick and
grinned. “Then you came to the right place.”

“I am Madge,” I told him, and then
did the human ritual of extending my hand.

He took and gripped it with a shake.
“My name is Davis. Nice to meet you, and even though you’re at the
outskirts, welcome to Angeles City.”

I smiled. I had arrived.

Jacqueline
Druga is a native of Pittsburgh, PA. She is a prolific writer and
filmmaker. Her published works include genres of all types, but
favors post-apocalypse and apocalypse writing. Currently, she
resides in a small town south of Pittsburgh, where not only is she
a writer, but devotes a good bit of her time enjoying her
grandchildren.