The second dark ages box.., p.6
The Second Dark Ages Boxed Set, page 6
part #1 of The Second Dark Ages Series
All of the men stared at Sarah Jennifer, who was looking down at her own stomach in surprise, holding it with her hands.
Chapter Seven
South of Old Denver (United States Post-Apoc)
Jacqueline rode into the area south of Denver with the horses. She didn’t need the animals so much as she needed something to trade with.
The Weres had taken over a couple of large buildings. One of them was a huge warehouse. It was so big it could cover their little encampment with room to spare. By using found scrap, and some judicial use of muscle, the families had built a nice fence between the buildings.
She rode up and waited for the…
A male voice called out, “I see you, what do you want?”
“Name’s Jacqueline. I was here a while back with seven of my friends before we went out into the Fallen Lands. We traded then, would like to trade now.”
“Don’t remember you, where are you from?” the male voice called back.
“Pack in Chicago,” she replied.
“Oh, a rich bitch,” he retorted.
She briefly frowned. With patience she hadn’t had last time she was here, she answered, “No, that’s the pack to the east of Chicago. Rich and righteous, all of them. Act like they can walk on water, and their shit don’t stink.”
She heard the laughter from her talker and… yup, a couple of others.
“All right, you know the secret password,” he replied and then the screech of metal and wheels needing lubrication hit her ears as she watched the massive door open a few feet. Enough for her and the two horses to get through.
It took her three hours to find someone to trade the horses for a couple of weapons and some local money. They recognized she didn’t have the feed to keep them inside for more than two days, tops. They used it for bargaining power, not knowing she wanted to be out of there by the morning.
It took another two hours for her to see the Alpha.
He told her in no uncertain terms, she would meet with him again the next night. Using what felt like the last of the patience she had found when encountering Michael, she nodded her acceptance and left his quarters. She stepped outside the main building and walked around the grounds, wondering if Michael would come here, or if he would leave her behind.
Well, shit. Now she was stuck in another camp.
She turned to look into the shadows when she heard the noise. A mess of old blankets moved and then a voice, ragged with age called out, “Hello.”
She looked around then stepped towards the voice, only getting close enough so their conversation had a chance of being private. “Yes?”
“You look like you aren’t from here, are you child?”
Jacqueline looked around. No one was close to them. There were people with rifles up on the roofs of the two buildings, but none close enough to hear her. “No, Chicago.”
“Recent?” came the old man’s voice, a cough racking him. He had to be close to death, this old man. Most Weres stayed in good shape.
“No,” she looked around one more time and chose to step a couple of feet closer.
“I ain’t going to bite, young lady. Even were I young enough, I was taught honor.”
She snorted. “Honor, now there’s a word I hadn’t believed in.” She spoke as much to herself as him.
Another couple of coughs before the pile of blankets asked, “Why not?”
Jacqueline considered her response and finally just walked about ten feet along the darkened wall. She came to a stop then and, back against the wall, slid down and sat on the concrete. The covers the old man was using were old and full of dirt, sweat, and a little sickness. She couldn’t smell him over the putridness, and she was thankful for that.
She stared out across to the other building but kept her voice low. “Because being told I need to have honor came from my Dad. He was always so upright like he had a stick up his butt when I was growing up. He kept preaching and preaching and preaching at me. It felt like nothing I did could get a compliment without a warning. Finally, I figured I knew enough and decided that searching out the Fallen Lands with my close friends was the way to a better life. Come out here, find some technology that could be used again and my life would be set.”
“Didn’t happen that way?” he asked, softly.
“No, it didn’t,” she admitted. “We made it here to Denver and just one day north of the city we got attacked by hunters who used silver. Seven of my friends were killed, and I was blinded.”
Worry came from the old man. “You healed, right? You seem like you can see now.”
She nodded. “I can see now, but that was because I was healed by a man. I spent a long time as a slave to a human, hearing him tell others he was just waiting for me to get old enough so he could be the first to rape me.”
“Rape you?” the man cried out in alarm before his coughing took over.
“Didn’t happen,” she replied, her voice calm.
“What did?” he asked once his coughing subsided.
“The Dark Messiah did, just like the stories my dad told me when I was but a little girl on his lap. Like the vampires of old, before the apocalypse.”
“Who,” the old man asked, his voice a little stronger.
“What?” she turned to him.
“His name,”
“Michael,” she replied.
“Oh my God,” the old man whispered. “He actually came back. She was right.”
“Who was right?”
There was a long pause from the old man. “Didn’t you listen to your dad’s stories?” he asked her gently. “Michael has a woman in his life. He was killed, so we thought, by a nuclear weapon out west of here. But his love, Bethany Anne, always said he would come back for her. Now, you’re telling me he’s back?”
“Well, if you mean the Michael that can walk in the sun, cause men and women to feel so much fear all they can do is lie on the ground and piss themselves, then yes... he’s back.” she agreed.
“I’ll be damned, we have a shot to get you out of here, Jacqueline,” he said in awe.
The old man told her a few more things, and twenty minutes later, he left her crying silently, holding on to his covers as her tears fell freely into them. Now that she had the covers next to her body, she could smell her father.
It took Michael a little while, and a couple of backtracks, to finally locate the old road that he could follow to Denver. This time, he didn’t Myst or use any extra abilities.
He just enjoyed the ride with his horse, Tabby. On more than one occasion, the horse tried to do the exact opposite of what he wanted. So, he named the horse after the one person he remembered causing him such trouble.
And Tabitha was her name.
He considered calling the horse BA, after Bethany Anne but figured he might feel a little weird leaving the horse behind. He sure as hell wouldn’t have the same emotional connection with one named Tabby. Not that he didn’t love Tabitha in his own way, but leaving behind an annoying and petulant horse named Tabby?
He could manage that.
Michael rode into Denver, a city rising up out of grass and weeds. He stopped Tabby and looked at the outline of a city in ruin.
Mother Earth reclaiming her materials, one year at a time.
He noticed that only a small portion of the city was actually being used or even had some electricity. Most of the outskirts he had ridden through were shades of their former selves if they even existed any longer. There had been a fair number of wooden structures, but now all that was left were areas of grass and dirt, the cement foundations succumbing to the years with no humans present.
It was certainly hotter than he was expecting. He popped the reins and Tabby started walking again, heading into a town that most, it looked like, had forgotten.
Juliana had been on her feet for seven hours already. As the main waitress in this bar for the last eighteen months, she had seen a lot. Been pitched job offers, proselytized to by men who needed to feel good about drinking, and had enough men leer at her that she had two designations for men. One was scumbags.
The other was dead.
So, if they walked in under their own power, then scumbag it was. That was okay, she got paid well by scumbags. She knew how to use her assets.
For whatever reason, her hair was so black it seemed to have blue highlights when the sun caught it just right. The simple outfit of jeans and an old, men’s dress shirt that she wore untucked, was the only uniform she ever used.
“Juliana,” old man Milton called out from table ten back in the corner. He had made it to his fourth decade and actually survived over twenty years mining. Now, he invested in the younger guys and made sure they treated him fair in their agreements. Well, his knee-breaker and life-taker, Kent who always stood behind him, made sure they were as honest as they needed to be.
She turned toward him. “Another moonie, Mr. Milton?” He picked up and showed her his empty glass and she gave him a thumbs up and walked towards the bar. The door into the building opened behind her, but she ignored it. “Jimmie,” she called to him, “we need a clear Moonie for Mr. Milton.” She pointed down to the open tabs on the desk behind the bar counter. “That’s him third from the top. Make sure we have…” She looked up to find Jimmie was looking behind her. “Dammit, Jimmie! Listen to me, Mr. Milton...”
But, Jimmie wasn’t paying any attention to her. She turned to see what he was watching, and that’s when she saw the man in black, his head as bare as a baby’s behind. As he was looking around the room, she checked his shoes. He didn’t have cowboy boots like most travelers. No, his looked black.
Like combat boots.
And he radiated danger.
“Here, Juliana,” she turned around to see Jimmie offering her the drink. “I wrote it down on his tab.” She nodded and put it on her tray. She turned back around and headed toward Mr. Milton’s table, sneaking another glance at the stranger.
“Can I get you something?” she asked him.
“Don’t know, what do you have, and can you let me know if you’ve seen a young looking woman in here?”
“Except myself?” she answered. It wasn’t often she had to work a flirt with any guy. But he certainly wasn’t paying any attention to her, and he wasn’t dead. He didn’t radiate the feeling that he batted for the other team either.
“Yes, of course.” He glanced up at her, his blue eyes taking her in, but she merely felt he was now aware of what she looked like. She couldn’t get upset for being judged because he obviously didn’t judge her.
He was dead to other women. She already hated this other bitch. Juliana might not like most guys, but she liked it even less when other women could hold a man’s attention when she was right in front of them.
“We have local moonshine and three kinds of beer, all locally brewed. We don’t have a large enough population out here to import any special beers for general sale. We have some beef either ground up for burgers or cut up in a stew with leeks and potatoes.”
“I’ll try your moonshine, thank you,” Michael answered.
She took his order and left to go to the bar.
Behind him, the door opened and three toughs entered. He considered moving tables based on the thoughts he could pick up from the first man’s mind, but he really needed the practice.
Or at least that was what he was telling himself.
The waitress returned with his glass, but he waved her off. “Keep it, or it will just get spilled.”
She looked at him strangely, and then at the three men coming up behind him and turned around and headed back towards the bar.
“You’re in my seat,” the man growled behind him.
“Your point?” Michael asked, not bothering to look behind him.
“My point is, you need to move,” he replied.
“I’m comfortable here. But to prove I can be magnanimous,” he pointed to the three empty chairs at the table, “You can sit with me. I won’t even charge you for the opportunity.”
“Listen, last time it cost me a half day’s wages when we busted up Kraven’s bar.”
Michael turned in his chair and looked up at the tough. “Kraven, really?” his look of wonder caught the tough by surprise.
“Yeah, Kraven. He runs Denver and owns this bar. Me and the boys here work for him. So, we’re important, as well.”
“No, I think you misunderstand,” Michael replied. “I’m asking because that has to be one of the top twenty stupidest names I’ve heard someone call themselves. Let me ask, is he a hunter?”
“Mr. Kraven isn’t going to like someone disrespecting his name, Robert,” the guy in the back on the right piped up. “He probably would be okay with a little destruction before we take it out into the street and beat the shit out of him.”
“Yeah, good point,” Robert said and threw a sucker punch at Michael, trying to hit him in the jaw. Michael kicked his chair back into Robert as he ducked back to allow the punch to pass by.
“Here,” Michael said as he raised the chair up to catch Robert under his chin, breaking a couple of teeth in the process. “Why don’t you take this seat?” He flipped the chair so the four legs were aimed at Robert who had stumbled backward, grabbing his mouth.
He stabbed out with the chair, breaking one of Robert’s ribs. He tossed it to the guy on the left and fairly blurred towards the other guy and punched him.
Once.
By the time the third man had caught the chair, Michael had grabbed Robert’s shirt. He yanked the chair back and set it down on the floor. He popped Robert on the side of the head. He slumped down into the seat, and Michael looked at the third guy. “Now,” he pointed to Robert, “you can tell him I let him sit in his chair. You got a chair you want, too?”
He looked at Robert, then down to the floor at his friend who was out cold. He turned to Michael and shook his head in the negative.
“Good, now leave me alone.” He turned and headed to the bar. Pulling money out of Robert’s wallet, which he had grabbed during the fight, he asked the bartender, “How much?”
Juliana watched with awe as Jimmie told him the price. Michael pulled out two silver pieces. “Two of these?” Jimmie nodded. Michael grabbed the moonshine and drank it in one gulp. He slapped the two pieces of silver on the table, then tossed Jimmie the wallet. “You can return it to him when he wakes up.”
Michael nodded to the waitress and made his way out of the bar.
“God,” Jimmie said when Michael left. “I want to be like him when I grow up.”
“Hell, if you are half him when you grow up, Jimmie, I’ll take you home all night, every night,” Juliana murmured.
Jimmie glanced at Juliana to see she wasn’t paying him any attention.
Challenge accepted, he thought to himself.
Chapter Eight
Old Denver (United States Post-Apoc)
The old Were was able to leave the pack’s area easily. The local Alpha didn’t care what one old man did. He had come here months before, looking for someone.
A girl.
Now, he had found the one he’d been looking for. Found his daughter once again and his heart was a little lighter. But with his new knowledge of the local situation, he wasn’t sure how they would make it out of Old Denver. He was pretty sure the two of them could make it out of the pack’s little fort. But once they were known to be gone, there would be a pack hunt, and he wasn’t the man he used to be.
Now he knew exactly how he could see his daughter safe again. Unfortunately, he didn’t tell Jacqueline how bad he was.
But, he had told her he loved her, was proud of her, and had never been upset with her decision to leave.
When she told him of the Dark Messiah?
Well, then he needed to go see the man one more time to ask a personal favor.
God willing, he would accept.
New York City State, Upper East Coast (United States Post-Apoc)
“There are rumors,” the fat man said speaking around a cigar he had firmly planted between his teeth, “that we have figured out the problem with keeping vampire blood fresh.”
There were two men in the room. It was nicely appointed and had that rare feature only available to a few cities across the world.
It had electricity.
The fat man looked at his law enforcement representative. “I don’t remember wanting this information to be public. Are we clear?”
The other man nodded, turned and left the room.
Old Denver (United States Post-Apoc)
It seemed like everywhere Michael went, people had degenerated to the Dark Ages again. Lack of fresh building activity, everyone just reusing the plentiful old buildings from Earth’s past.
Like they had decided to move into old Egyptian pyramids to live.
Further, mankind had moved into a dark time ethically. Here, so far as he had seen, everyone thought might made right.
The problem with that? When Honor’s Champion decided that Justice had been absent for too long, and was seeking to balance the scales, it was going to get ugly.
He kept his hands in his pockets, the coat flapping in the wind as he walked down the street towards the location he had pulled from Robert’s head.
Kraven? Michael snorted. Who kept a name like Kraven?
It took him five minutes to walk the necessary blocks, having to backtrack one time when he came upon a building that had collapsed. He didn’t care to jump over the rubble and have people realize just how different he was.
Michael stopped in front of the forted up area and studied it.
It wasn’t bad, he had to admit. He wasn’t sure where they got the materials, but the walls were well built and twenty feet high. Some sort of wire on the top, and a guard station overlooking the roads in multiple directions with a large building in the center.
