Bane of The Revenant

By Timothy Linnomme

"Stay with your own Kind; you aren't welcome here!"
Hiram (Evil) Schwerin has heard that saying uttered many times but this was the first time it was directed at him. He was a trader and as far as he was concerned, he was with his own kind in Reno; it was an unfortunate accident crossing The Shells that had given him solid colored red eyes like the gendog traveling with him. If it has eyes like a Revenant then it must be a Revenant; humans couldn't be expected to behave differently in these times...

There once was a place called San Francisco but now it is called Novo Francisco and it is under control of a person completely out of his mind but with an abnormal force of will. Girard Wilson traded a death sentence in prison for a very classified experiment... over three hundred years ago. He escaped confinement just ahead of a termination order and when he began subverting and suborning humans to go with the gendogs he controlled, he referred to them the same way he did so with himself...they were The Revenant and nothing would be held above them. They were the chosen of racekind and they would eventually take over the world...

Following a failed attempt to take back what Girard stole, a truce has been in force for over one hundred years; in exchange for no armed humans in an agreed upon DMZ, the gendog hordes would stay on the Revenant side of it and the humans on their side. Despite the harsh terms, there are too many good places to live in the DMZ and the Sacrato Vigilance Committee (SVC) only keeps the law up to the DMZ border on their side. The DMZ might be gendog free but a vicious horde of motorcycle riders called The Legion run Girard's meth lab, are paid by him to harass the humans in the DMZ and gain extra jack from the rapine and plunder they commit. The more humans that brave the DMZ, the more fun The Legion can ultimately have....but human boinkers never fail to cross the line. If the DMZ was considered lawless before, it isn't now...except the judgment by AA-12 is final...

A vicious and now unpredictable joker is in the deck of cards and as he glowers at the remains of his wagon, the voices in his head only give rise to more anger. Hiram had already told Girard where he stood so why was he hearing Girard even here? He still had that crazy looking board he was given by the funny man earlier but was he expected to use it?

Evil has salvaged a lot from his wagon and his pack animal has survived its injuries (through a secondary mutation) so it is now time to find some truth amidst the lies. If weredebt isn't paid for his wagon, only Evil will be laughing when the dead are counted...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Timothy Linnomme
• Release date: Feb 20, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311636201

Timothy Linnomme

Life is essentially what you make of it and I have found writing fiction is not only challenging, it can be a lot of fun (and a lot of work!) I write in an adult vein and I am neither worried about sacred cows nor do I shy away from the dark side of homo sapiens. I have worn a lot of hats over the years and I like to think each new experience has something to teach as you grow and flourish from the input. I currently live in NW Ohio.

Book preview

The Twisted Earth

Volume Four:

Bane of The Revenant

Timothy Linnomme

Even if human pride is shattered, the prejudice will always remain…and when mutants are involved, it only becomes worse…

Contents Copyright Timothy Linnomme 2014

Published by Timothy Linnomme at Smashwords

This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people or places living, existing or deceased is purely coincidental.

Visit http://www.timothylinnomme.net for a full listing of titles and the latest information including up and coming releases

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Seven

Epilogue

Travels and Travails

Revenant

1. One that returns after a lengthy absence.

2. One who returns after death.

Merriam-Webster Dictionary

Before I'm through I'll kill it 50 times more, just to bring it back to life,

And bust it open wide again. Well I held it in my hands and now it's

Gone gone gone.

Blinded by the neon in your dead red eyes.

Archers of Loaf - Dead Red Eyes

Do you remember the rage?

I remember the hate

I remember it rained for years

And the blood had left a stain

We are the revenants

And we will rise up from the dead

We become the living

We’ve come back to reclaim our stolen breath

Distillers - I'm a revenant

A vision in the sky

Casting a shade on mother earth

They know what it will bring

But no belief denying the truth

Fleeing creatures everywhere

Each possessed by tremendous fear

Crying like tormented souls

Wishing that they were never born

A thud impact

A raising mushroom cloud

High pressure is filling the air

A flash of fire is dragging life away

Acoustic Torment - Nuclear Warfare

Prologue

March 1, ----

The days of scrambled voices and the Cone of Silence were long gone but secure communication protocols still existed. To anyone listening in on the conversation, it would have sounded like a younger female speaking to an older male regarding a routine sort of request.

This is Procurement. The only way to tell that this wasn’t actually a female speaking was a slight digital echo effect.

We are—

We already know who you are so there is no need to repeat that information. All that we need to know is what you want.

We were told that you could get experimental subjects if they were needed and that you could do out a fuss being raised. Once more, the digital echo effect was in play; this was no ‘middle aged man’ on the line.

Let me access your Facility Records; one moment please. After a short silence, the female was back on the line. You should have come to us first for your needs rather than disappearing people off of the street; even the homeless watch out for their own. What level of subject do you need?

I don’t understand.

Will the subject be able to be returned to Earth society upon the conclusion of your experiment or will he or she need to be exterminated afterwards?

Is there any middle ground?

No, sir.

Then extermination it is.

That actually makes things a lot easier and less costly. When we contact you again, you will have your test subject within seven days.

This is all that we have to do?

You have already paid the agreed upon sum for our services; we prefer happy customers. The faster that matters are expedited, the more money we make in payment. Have a nice day.

August 5, 2019

From: [Redacted]

To: [Redacted]

CONFIDENTIAL!

RE: Utilization of Dynamic GMC (Genetically Modified Canine) Superstructure of Alpha Series as airborne pathogen for mass mutation of Gamma Series.

Congratulations on creating your working prototype but there is a specific matter that needs to be addressed.

Injecting Alpha GMC blood into a Gamma Canine might be suitable under lab conditions but we find that concept to be highly impractical out in the real world. We have isolated the pathogenic/mutagenic factors from the GMC blood and with a few modifications to your superstructure overlay, these factors can be released into the air with only about a ten percent superstructure loss. You would want to have the trigger mechanism set high (perhaps as high as five hundred gamma canines or more in close range), but any Gamma breathing in the factors would mutate the same as if they had been injected with the blood directly. If this method was used, you would be more likely to have a large group of mutated Gamma units on hand in short order if needed.

[Redacted]

San Quentin State Prison – Death Row Adjustment Area April 3, 2020

May we have the manacles removed from the inmate and the guard gone from this visitation room? We need to discuss something of import with them.

Negative on both counts; the prisoner is dangerous in every respect and no one from the Adjustment Area is left alone even for a moment…not even to take a piss.

How do you get around that when they visit with their attorney?

Adjustment Area inmates are out of appeals; they are only in a holding pattern until their date of demise. Inmate privacy is still in force despite the aforementioned situation; the guards present sign an agreement to not speak of internal matters.

*

Why is there a blindfold on the inmate?

His stare tends to set other people on edge.

I want that removed immediately; we first need to verify who the inmate is.

The guard complied with the request but not as quickly as he would have if ordered to do so. The three people had signed in as required and allowed themselves to be scanned but the experienced personnel at least knew there was some heavy bullshit being laid down. The inmate being visited had no immediate family…at least any that wanted to visit. These people aren’t who they say they are but someone pulled some heavy strings. The woman looked middle aged, slender and her visage was not only plain, it was very forgettable. She was supposed to be the inmate’s ‘sister’. Her two ‘sons’ looked military from their head to their toes and could have passed for shaved apes if needed.

*

The inmate blinked a few times after the blindfold was removed but there was no denying the vitality and the fanaticism in his eyes. He looked over the three people using his most disconcerting stare and scurrilous grin.

I don’t recall my sister being so ugly but I guess my father had to drink a few extra beers before he would fuck her. He looked at one of the males. Did you know my dad fucked my sister; he got her pregnant too but I don’t think that was you. The inmate didn’t even notice the man slowly rising out of his chair; he knew the prison guard would protect him from injury. He did have rights after all. So tell me; are people that look like you the future of the human race?

Are you Girard Eleuthiel Wilson?

Who in hell else would I be? My initials spell Jew; isn’t that a laugh?

The other male replied. We at least have a future; you sure as hell don’t.

If that is so, why are you here? What do I have to do to alter my future?

The female laid a restraining arm on the male who had spoken.

You were convicted of eight counts of First Degree Murder. You had six children and their parents killed by your acolytes and the murder charges were only the worst of the counts. There was sodomy and rape and cannibalism and torture of the victims too.

They were found lacking in needed attributes to join me in my New Revolution. Such will happen to all who oppose me! Even now my acolytes are converting those who do not know. Only the truth--

Girard went quiet after the guard slapped him on the head.

That is enough out of you, preacher man. Keep it up if you want to sit in darkness for the rest of the day.

There is an experiment that needs a test subject; if you are willing to volunteer for the experiment, we can get your sentence commuted to life in prison. You will probably be next for execution otherwise.

Does that mean I will be eligible for parole?

You would be processed for that privilege in a regular manner upon completion of the experiment. Do you think that you will ever be free of this place? Dream on!

What kind of experiment is it?

We are not at liberty to say but we have brought along the needed paperwork in case you were interested.

Girard had to bend his head down so that he could scratch his scalp but when he was done, his eyes gleamed even brighter if such was possible.\

Did you actually think that I would need time to consider this matter? The others inside me have quickly concurred. I will sign what is needed because I have much work to get done! We are all in agreement on that!

April 5, 2020

--News Report-- Girard Wilson, 45, was killed inside of San Quentin Prison during an altercation with other inmates. The guards quickly put down the disturbance but Wilson was not able to be resuscitated. Wilson was convicted for the murder of the Bittle family ten years earlier…

April 11, 2020 (Place Classified)

Girard was bored out of his skull to say the least. He didn’t even know where he was and he couldn’t get any information out of the guards that were here. These guards were military personnel instead of Prison Guards so if that was the case, was he on a military base?

The people here sure knew how to make him feel welcome. His blindfold hadn’t been removed until he was here in this cell, the television only got redacted versions of C-SPAN and the Walt Disney Channel and there was nothing else to make the time go by. He was given a meal three times a day (plastic implements of course. As an experiment of his own, he tried hiding away the plastic knife on his dinner tray to see what would happen. Four guard personnel entered his room only moments after he finished eating and he was given physical and verbal grief until the knife was recovered.). He was also given a slew of pills every day and though he didn’t feel much different, he still wondered what he had been taking. After seeing the results of the knife experiment, Girard did what he was told to do. Another thing that bothered him was that he didn’t know the date and time. He had tried to glean that information from the Disney Channel and C-SPAN but all causal referents were redacted. (In the case of C-SPAN, it appeared to be earlier episodes; Girard had seen some of this before.) It wasn’t that long after he had eaten lunch that the door to his cell opened. This was not a usual time for him to have visitors. Three guards flanked a rather pudgy looking male in a white lab coat. His head looked almost symmetrically round and the heavy pair of glasses he wore only made his appearance more pronounced. Girard couldn’t help but laugh.

Do you find something funny, Alpha Test Subject 1?

My name is Girard Wilson.

Not as far as I am concerned. You are a test subject; nothing more. Once the male had taken a set of vitals, he nodded in the direction of a blank wall. Subject’s vitals are all within normal ranges. I recommend that we begin the experiment.

What sort of experiment are we doing?

That isn’t your concern; it is time you earned the cost of your keep. Blindfold the test subject before transferring him; his gaze is rather irksome.

I am not doing a fucking thing until I know why—

The male in the lab coat shook his head. Oh, bother; restrain the test subject until a gurney can be brought in.

The next thing Girard knew, he was blindfolded and unable to physically move thanks to the guards. He was laid on a stretcher and he began moving down a hallway of sorts. It was the lab coat wearing man that spoke.

What you want is irrelevant; we paid good money for a test subject and as that goes, you can’t say no to anything that we wish to do. Consider things in this way; you will be contributing to scientific knowledge instead of tearing at society even more than you already have.

*

Girard was lashed into place on the stretcher but his blindfold had been removed. He heard the growling and barking sounds before he could put an image to the sounds. It was a monstrous sized dog with jet black curly fur and solid colored red eyes. It was nearly as heavily restrained as he was but even so, the dog didn’t look very happy to see him. Where had that dog come from? Girard always had liked dogs. He brought home a stray dog once when he was a boy and though it was a lot of work taking care of it, Girard was up to the task. His stepfather had killed the dog by breaking its neck but Girard forgot to cry over the loss for some reason. Some years later he broke his stepfather’s neck in payment. There was no guilt or remorse over his action; fair was fair after all. What was going to happen now? They took some blood out of the dog and injected it into him and then he was taken to a different cell. He could hear the dog nearby but what was the point regarding the blood? Girard suddenly didn’t feel that good and his eyes were dragging with weariness. He as much collapsed onto as laid down on the cot that was there but the moment his eyes were fully closed, the nightmares took over…

*

…It was a stage where Girard was the only spectator; the material for the show was pulled from the darkest recesses of his mind. Anything and everything was fair game as the gendog blood took over his bodily functions. The main attraction was the Bittle family though; his acolytes had descended on the house where the Bittle’s lived and spent the whole night torturing and murdering them. It all had been recorded so that Girard could see it whenever he wanted. It was about the only way he could become aroused.

The Bittles were the stars in an endless number of stage routines and of course they were all nude. Nancy Bittle acted as the conductor because Steve Bittle had his throat cut and he couldn’t speak that well as a result. Nancy leered at Girard with a bloody face; her left breast had been sheared off and her vagina was bloody ruin. Her two sons had been decapitated but her four daughters had been used to death in a literal fashion. It wasn’t that much of a Chorus Line when the participants were bleeding everywhere or dropping body parts on the floor. Girard was mentally short circuited long before the Bittle’s danced away into mental oblivion but there was so much more to see…

…Girard had first killed someone at eleven years of age. He had hit puberty early and quickly gained the attention of one of the local dirty girls. After she took his virginity, Girard bashed in her head with a rock…fucking her after that was much more enjoyable but he now got to relive that scene over and over again in his mind…even as the gendog blood vastly improved his physical structure, the same blood was allowing his inner insanity to climb to unbelievable levels. The darkness inside of his being was now fully ascendant. It forced the organism to eat so that it didn’t perish.

*

May 11, 2020 (Area Classified)

--Experiment Notes—The Test Subject (Girard Wilson) was injected with fifty ccs of Alpha Gendog blood to test pathogenic and mutagenic capacity of blood. The test subject is still alive but hasn’t consumed any solid food for six days. We are leaving liquid meal supplements in his cell and those are apparently being consumed but the test subject hasn’t even moved from where he is resting. The only outward sign of life from the subject is an occasional rise and fall of the chest and minor convulsion activity from peripheral areas of the test subject. It is recommended that more test subjects are found because the ultimate viability of Subject #1 is in doubt.

May 25, 2020 (Area Classified)

The Test Subject arose one week ago looking rather weakened physically but initially unaltered physically. Subject has regained appetite but upon closer inspection, some of the test subject’s features have changed. Their brown eyes are now solidly colored red and they glow with their own internal fire. Their vitality has grown in leaps and bounds with each passing day and they have demanded to be let out of their confinement. After conferring with the scientists involved with this experiment, the decision was made to keep the test subject confined. Though it appears that the test subject is cooperating with us, some here are a bit concerned regarding his general behavior. He appears to be staring out into space but is that true or is he looking at something we can’t see? There is only the one male Alpha gendog that is still alive; the others were chopped apart and then burnt in a furnace but several females still remain. There are two large packs of the Beta and Delta variants too but we will not release them until the time is right. The gendogs are now very silent; they used to make a lot more noise before….the test subject recovered from the injection of gendog blood…

-------, ----

//I am Girard. Who are you? //

Girard received no answer but that didn’t mean he would stop trying to communicate.

//I am Girard. Who are you? //

The sudden presence in his mind initially staggered Girard but as he accepted it, its force was diminished.

//I am...hunter of enemies. //

//I am Girard. I have returned from being nearly dead. I am…a Revenant! // Upon speaking that statement, Girard’s persona became even more domineering. He quickly determined who was communicating with him.

//I was given blood from you to see what would happen. I have survived!! //

The answer Girard received was a menacing growl on both physical and mental levels but Girard wasn’t afraid of dogs.

//I am Girard. You will obey me. //

//I will KILL you!! I will not suffer you to live; you have no right to live! //

// I am your MASTER and you will OBEY ME!! //

//…kill you! You were not created from me willingly and you will die!! You…WILL…DIE!!! //

The mesmerizing capacity of Girard Wilson had been kicked up to a level beyond even what Adolf Hitler possessed and he wouldn’t be denied. The war that was waged between him and the male Alpha Gendog took place in aural silence and it had but one foreseeable end. The male Alpha gendog fell whimpering to its knees in both the physical and mental plane.

//HEAR Girard….SEE Girard….OBEY Girard! Your name is now Pilot and you will suborn the others of your kind in the same manner as I have suborned you! If they will not grant us our freedom, we must take it the first chance we perceive!! //

Pilot had lost the battle of wills and now was part of Girard’s severely unbalanced mind. The Betas and Deltas were created to follow a Alpha as a Pack Leader. Suborning them to the will of his Pack mate was easy to do. All that it could now hear in its mind was… HEAR Girard! SEE Girard! OBEY Girard! Pilot discovered that it wasn’t the undisputed Pack Leader yet. It detected a group of female Alpha’s who weren’t happy to see a male of their kind in the mix…

8/16/2020 (Place Classified)

We would first off wish to congratulate the scientists for both their research and their perseverance during this experiment stage. We have learned a lot from the tests you have conducted but since we now have a useful working prototype (for the gendogs at least ) that we can create as needed, all extraneous experimental research needs to be disposed of as quickly and discreetly as possible. There will most likely be a Changing of The Guard after the November elections have concluded and our exposure needs to be as limited as possible. Please have all extermination done by early October.

(Name Classified)

9/13/2020 (Place Classified)

…Girard conserved what physical energy he possessed because most of what he was now doing occurred on a mental plane. The only caged gendogs he didn’t now control were the twelve Alpha units but they weren’t really needed by this time. He used the Beta and Delta units to suborn some of the handlers that brought the food and was aware that he was to be exterminated at some point…

So they were going to exterminate him, were they? That was simply unfair considering what he had suffered already; that blood had nearly killed him!

// They might be able to kill me but not if I escape this place first! //

When Girard took a vote from the gendogs that he controlled, it was a unanimous ‘yes’ but how would he and his pack gain their freedom?

October 1, 2020

It was a combination of suborned human and temporarily suborned Guardian gendog that allowed Girard to escape. Once the Guardian was close enough to the confinement area, it was able to perceive Girard’s all-encompassing insanity…

// SEE Girard… HEAR Girard… OBEY Girard… //

The Guardian unit was much more curious than it was mesmerized because of its alien physiology. It had started off as an Alpha gendog overlay but its carbon based structure had been replaced by silicon (The tertiary silicon bonding had been done in a laboratory).

The end result was a dog shaped creature (not a dog) that had rock and mineral composites for flesh, muscle and bone, acid for blood and interstitial fluid and the venting of hydrocarbons (urine) and crystalline solids (feces) for waste product. As an added ability for being able to do its job, the Guardian gendog possessed a chameleon capability rendering it almost completely invisible to the eye. Its purpose was to provide an extra layer of security to this location but there were multiple Guardian units around for this purpose. Since the Guardian unit was restricted in its movement in this location (due to output from the sound generation equipment), the creature decided to investigate the trespass upon its mind. Once it had determined what the softthings used to enter the specific place where the directive originated, it only had to wait for the aperture to cycle. There was an open space on the device where it probably wouldn’t be detected and once it had gained that location, it was taken down into the lower reaches of the facility… Its downward path still comprised an ‘Out of Range’ signal to the sound array so a counter device was tripped. If the Guardian unit didn’t venture back within range, the sound array would jump up its signal in ten percentile increments until the matter was resolved.

…It was amused at the number of softthings that existed down here but why were they behind metallic doors and bars? The litany it heard in its mind was much stronger down here but its alien structure guaranteed that no mind control of it would occur. What the Guardian had for a ‘brain’ was a mass of mica composite coated in highly reactive acid compounds. Once the basic structure of the Guardian was created, the rest of the construct was polyadaptive regarding what it needed to function in its environment. Its heart was a chunk of granite with holes in necessary places, its bones were a mixture of silicon and graphene and its muscles were a mesh of various igneous elements.

Why was the softthing annoying it by speaking to its mind? The Guardian shook his head to be clear of what it was hearing but the softthing was persistent. To a creature who treated rocks as food, oil was like candy and most metals were like potato chips. The Guardian bit out the locking mechanism on the door but one potato chip wasn’t enough. The softthing was trying to get close to it for some reason but the Guardian wanted nothing more to do with it. It bit off several other locking mechanisms while it disregarded the noises that resulted from such actions. The more locking mechanisms it destroyed, the less the two legged softthing was bothering it. The softthing was also opening metal boxes but now the Guardian was confused. The four legged softthings looked a lot like it did; they even made at least the equivalent of some noises it made but why had these softthings been placed in metal boxes? Its chain of thought was blasted away when the opening through which it had gained entry was open once again. The SOUND that blasted the Guardian was beyond even painful; it actually lost consciousness for a moment but it was done here regardless what the two legged softthing wanted.

The two legged softthing was actually trying to prevent it from leaving! Did it think that its annoying mind speech controlled it? It got very close to the two legged softthing before growling at it.

// You are nothing to me; nothing at all. Only the noise of SOUND controls me. //

Having thought that at the two legged softthing, the Guardian ripped and chewed at the blast door until it had made a large enough hole to escape. The moment that the access to the outside was once more available, the Guardian loped out into the open air. The sound was now back down to tolerable levels but the two legged softthing was now also out here with a large mass of four legged softthings but they were allowed to leave this place. What did that mean? What did all of that mean?

October 27, 2020 Vicinity of the Death Valley Desert

Girard looked out across the barren plain from his elevated position. It turned out that escaping that place was the easiest part of things. Having your freedom again after years of being confined took a lot of adjusting in some regards but nothing like what Girard was having to do now.

Girard thought that he had full control over the gendogs but that turned out not to be the case. The Alpha females that had escaped with the others were attempting to assert their own dominance over the hordes and Girard couldn’t afford to let that happen. It was Pilot that had saved his life at least three times from one of the other Alpha units; if one of the Alpha females managed to take over the hordes, Girard would be their first external victim. The Alpha strain was impressive considering how much damage they could take and still recover but there were limits to even that capacity. Pilot had ripped apart nine of the Alpha females (unlike the females, Girard was providing Pilot with a regular diet of food so it could keep regenerating.) but the remaining three had become problematic.

Underestimating the Alpha gendog strain in any regard was a good way to come out on the losing end of things. The Alpha strain had an IQ equivalent of at least one hundred and was very adaptive. Pilot was unable to trap or kill the three Alpha units that were left because of this trait and though Girard had suborned most of the Beta and Delta units, there was a small core of them that refused to heed Girard’s clarion call. After a few more days of stalemate, both sides decided to cut their losses. The three remaining gendogs left on both east and southeast tangents. One of the Alpha units (along with three beta and two delta units) eventually took shelter in the irradiated Colorado corridor area, the second one (with four beta and two delta units) rampaged through the place of their imprisonment before getting lost in the Shells and the third one made it through the Shells alone. The third Alpha female didn’t know this yet, but she would eventually return to areas west of the Shells…but she would have a human pack mate with her…

*

December 24, 2020 Vicinity of the Death Valley Desert

As World War Three was waged, Girard was peacefully asleep with Pilot close by his side. He wore a smile on his visage because part of him fed off of the misery of humankind and a Nuclear/Biological/Chemical exchange was its penultimate victory. Girard’s eyes flopped open versus opened on their own accord. His bright red solid colored eyes would on occasion be replaced by a solid jet black; as the darkness became ascendant, what was Girard only became more twisted and psychotic…but he was fed and sheltered by what was inside of him. At some point, Girard even suborned the darkness but in doing so, the darkness became a permanent part of his being. Girard was protected where he was but that was part of the ultimate plan. While Girard was (protected) the gendogs could breed…and breed they did…

59 A.D. (After the Dark)

The relative few gendogs Girard had in the beginning was only a memory; he now had thousands of them under his control. Most of them were Beta units but there were a number of Delta units and on occasion, another Alpha unit would be born. The only Alpha units that survived were the ones who fled from the hordes because Pilot wasn’t going to tolerate being challenged in any way whatsoever.

The first time Girard infected a human with some of Pilot’s blood largely happened out of boredom. He had come across a dying female in a box. She didn’t appear to be that old but radiation sickness wasn’t the common cold. He had suffered for over three weeks before changing but this woman changed in less than three days. She now had Beta unit eyes but her sickness was also gone. It wasn’t hard to convince her to follow him but others resisted the call and violence eventually flared. By that time though, Girard had hundreds of people heeding his call and the children they produced later on went to produce even more.

87 A.D. (After the Dark)

It hadn’t been the easiest task but Girard and those that followed him were victorious. This place had once been called San Francisco but that was before the tsunami struck. Only certain parts of the architectural infrastructure had been destroyed but the parts that were mattered the most. The mobs in the city fought and either fled the urban area at the end or died where they stood. The human population of San Francisco was in a weakened state when Girard first arrived.

Not everyone survived being poisoned with Pilot’s blood but the numbers under Girard’s control rapidly and steadily grew and when Girard saw what San Francisco still held within its confines, he decided to take the whole city for himself. (only for himself, not any that followed him). Girard quickly found a place suitable for the Revenant like himself along with the gendogs and from there, he began taking over …Novo Francisco.

105 A.D. (After the Dark)

To further extend his hold over Novo Francisco, Girard allowed certain sorts of mutants to live in the city. Not only did the mutants cut down on the human trespassers, Girard felt that having other mutants around enforced his claim over the territory Girard was ruthless in finding and then exterminating any remaining normal humans he found; Novo Francisco was his. The only exception to that rule was the protection Girard inevitably hired to protect his city. Regular humans did have their uses; because the Revenant were subservient mentally to Girard, they did whatever Girard thought or told them to do regardless of how stupid or nonproductive it was. The regular human contingent didn’t have to deal with Girard inside of their heads so they could get things done that the Revenant couldn’t such as spy on other humans for him or set up and operate a massive Sigh Fly lab. Girard made money hand over fist from selling the drug but the more peculiar aspect of things was that he had found some mutants who could consume the wastes from the lab as a food substance. The creatures looked like shiny white mushrooms with countless numbers of little feet at their base to move them around. Girard rarely delved into a matter more than a level or two deep so as long as the mutant creatures ate his drug lab waste, he didn’t care what they did otherwise…

125 A.D. (After the Dark)

Girard had converted eight of the humans he had caught looting his city but eleven Revenant had been killed in return. After thinking over the matter for thirty whole minutes (a long time for someone like Girard), Girard decided that he would have to hire a group of dedicated guards to protect his property.

Though Girard liked having the Revenant around, they weren’t very useful for somethings. They unfailingly followed Girard and what he thought but that was also the problem. Girard could think of some bizarre things at times. That was why dwellings were built in the middle of roads, places to eat constructed on poisoned ground and hitching posts out in the middle of nowhere. Regular humans already ran his Sigh Fly lab; it appeared that he would need some more of them for a roving guard contingent. Girard already had what he needed in mind; all that he now had to do was to find what people he needed.

Girard paid for an ad to run in both Sacrato and in some place called Reno but he didn’t expect much to come of it. He was pleasantly surprised when almost two hundred people answered the ad. Girard had a whole city full of motorcycles for the humans to ride and he had already thought of a name for the group. They would be called the Legion and they were given carte blanche to terrorize, rape and pillage throughout the Revenant and human held lands (though Revenant were placed out of bounds in that regard,) The humans weren’t happy that Girard had taken over Novo Francisco and their numbers increased faster than Revenant did. Shortly after he had formed up the Legion, the gang of motorcycle riding guards came into direct conflict with a sort of human Girard hadn’t seen before. These humans were dressed the same as each other and carried the same type of rifles too and they were as disciplined as the legion was scattershot. This group of humans wasn’t much different than others of their kind but when groups of them came into conflict with the Legion, the Legion would almost always come out on the short end of things. Girard began to hate looking at tan colored greatcoats because that was what these humans wore. They also stated that they were the law but Girard knew that HE was the only law that mattered and those who didn’t obey him in that regard would be very sorry in the end.

Girard didn’t like the humans calling the Revenant mutants and when the humans started interfering with Girard hiring other humans for the Legion or for his Sigh Fly lab, he retaliated by capturing groups of humans and then injecting them with Pilot’s blood. The lucky ones died from it; those who didn’t were suborned by Girard and sacrificed their past lives in the process. There had also been several attempts to kill Girard in the past but Girard had gained the gendog healing factor along with eyes like theirs so all attempts on his life had failed so far.

166 A.D. (After the Dark)

War finally came to be between Girard and the humans for several reasons. Novo Francisco had been occupied by humans until Girard killed or converted all of them and it was decided that his theft of the city wouldn’t go unanswered. During some sort of Legion predation, a school had suddenly become a battleground between the Legion and the tan coat wearing humans; over fifty children had been killed in a firefight. Instead of holding their ground or backing off after the Legion had departed, the Tan Coats had moved forward with more of their number and gave the Legion living hell. The Tan Coats now had a lot of ‘deputized’ humans in their midst and with the firepower they had under their control, they chased the Legion out of any human held lands. Now the Tan Coats were hunting down Revenant and though the Revenant were hard to kill, they were by no means immortal. The swarms of armed humans were on the outskirts of Novo Francisco when the tide of battle had changed…

Revenant were only hard to kill but gendogs were not only very difficult to kill, they became even deadlier with each failed attack against them. The humans were forced to fall back in near complete disarray due to the gendog hordes assailing them. By the time the humans managed to stabilize some sort of line, they had lost all of the land they had gained and a good portion of what they had claimed for their own. They were powerless against the gendog hordes so when an order for surrender was received, the humans had no other choice but to obey it…

168 A.D. (After the Dark)

The small chain of riders slowly but steadily picked their way to the agreed upon meeting place. The riders didn’t have much to say considering each one was occupied with keeping their mounts under control. Many of the riders bore wounds as a testament to a battle hard fought, but the slumped shoulders and tired yet vacant expressions showed signs of failure to win the day. They came out of a mountain range and trekked across a relatively flat area that stank almost of the very smell that the riders knew only too well over the course of the last several days. There was a raised area cut into the northern mountains that looked out across the fetid plain; that was where the riders were bound…

Girard waited for the riders to be seated; he had a victorious smirk on his visage as he once more adjusted his hat he was wearing for this occasion. His hat was a dead ringer for the one Napoleon wore; the eight other mutated humans with him all wore the same sort of head cover. A massive sized Alpha gendog lay at Girard’s feet, observing the events in silence for the moment. The nine people that were present wearing the odd looking hats looked about as average as possible minus at least one glaringly obvious feature. A normal human eye would have an iris and a cornea amongst other things surrounded by a structure colored white and requiring constant moisture to function in a proper manner. Girard and his cohort were mutated humans, though. At one time, Girard had been at the brink of death, but he had recovered and returned from the precipice; as such, he referred to himself as a Revenant. All who followed him were called the same. Unlike a human eye, though, Girard and his cohort had eyes of one continuous color with no other markings. Six of the eight Revenant had icy blue eyes and the other two had metallic green eyes that almost faded to black. Girard’s eyes looked like two bright embers in a fire; their red color was impossible to overlook.

Welcome to my war council! I brought snacks for us to consume while we discuss this treaty that you proposed!

The riders were silent as each forced themselves to take something from the try. Nothing on the tray was really fit for human consumption, but they had been exposed to the unbalanced nature of their foe for some time already; to not take a snack from the tray would possibly cause hostilities to be renewed.

I have called back the gendogs for the moment while this matter is discussed. What is it that you propose?

One of the riders looked older and more seasoned then the others. My name is Michael Calcourt. What we propose is a demilitarized area between your lands and ours. The DMZ as we would call it would have no armed contingents of humans inside of it in exchange for you keeping those dogs on your side. He proffered a written document to that effect.

Girard made as if he was reading the document Calcourt produced, but it was all an act. As far as Girard was concerned, he was only playing the part of a victorious leader; he had no more idea on how to do so then one of his fellow Revenant actually comprehending what he or she read. Not every aspect of being a revenant was positive. Girard was the leader of The Revenant and also of the gendogs through Pilot; what HE wanted done was always done, regardless of the net worth of the action. Perhaps one day he would exhort those he controlled to learn how to read, but that time wasn’t now; this was a more pressing matter.

Where will this ‘DMZ’ be located? When Girard was shown the potential location, he shook his head. I WANT more SPACE then that!

After some further negotiations, the DMZ area was formed. All that remained was for both parties to sign their copy of the treaty and the matter was settled, or so the riders thought. Without warning, Girard lunged up from the table and stuck one of the riders with a syringe full of blood. As the rider collapsed to the ground in convulsions, Girard regarded the riders with a baleful look in his eye.

That is to make sure that you know that I am the POWER to be reckoned with and all that you receive is ONLY at MY say so!

The riders quickly mounted up, leaving behind the one who had been injected with Alpha blood; live or die, that person was no longer considered human. Michael Calcourt may have looked beaten down and broken, but he also was definitely unbowed. There had been no real choice in signing the treaty they now had signed; war had erupted some time ago and despite their losses, they had beaten down the ones Girard sent to fight in his stead. The humans had been closing in on where Girard was until Girard loosed his gendogs upon the humans. All of the bloody ground the humans had gained was lost in very short order; gendogs were hard to kill, especially an Alpha. Once an Alpha recovered from their wounds, they became even more vicious and unrelenting in their attacks. The treaty had been the only choice even under duress; Michael wondered what his grandfather would have thought about what had just occurred. We had no choice, he thought, but Girard wouldn’t be able to win forever. It would be up to his descendants to set matters to right and restore things to the way they should be. Michael lived a long life, but he only had daughters for his children, eight of them. Thus the name of Calcourt became buried even as it lived on under other names, such as Werdant and Smith…

273 A.D. (After the Dark)

I

Girard looked around in satisfaction. It was his Council Meeting and he could do whatever he wanted here. All the others present were below him in stature, and for those who forgot that, Pilot would quickly help them remember. He wasn’t the only one here with red colored eyes, but his burned as bright as two coals in a fire. A few other Revenant had red eyes but their eye color was a dull red at best.

He had held dominion here for a very long time; in between the bouts of pointless insanity, he remembered what the world used to be like. He remembered them offering him a way to finally be out on parole. All it required was a simple injection. He remembered that nothing was ever that simple. The agony he suffered should have been enough to win him his freedom, but they never expected him to survive their experiment; they had written him off as dead. To add a final insult to that, they had no intention of letting him go free after he had survived; to them, he was an aberration that never should have happened. It was freedom he wanted and it was freedom he gained by the force of his own hand along with what Gen-Dogs he was able to subvert to his will. He had fled with most all of them; the only ones he left behind were the dead ones and the ones they called Guardians. He had wandered up to this area because he had lived here at one time.

The MIRV meant to strike this place had been neutralized, but that didn’t mean San Francisco got away unscathed. The tsunami that hit Los Angeles also made itself felt here. There used to be a bridge across the bay, but that had been destroyed along with a considerable amount of land frontage. There had even been people in this place after the human race was done destroying themselves, but that hadn’t lasted that long. The ones that his gendogs didn’t kill were injected with Pilot’s blood. Those who survived that ordeal also came under his sway. For some reason, the southern cities were now calling themselves Novo this or that, so he renamed the area Novo Francisco. Within its ruins were the means to control non mutagenic humans and eventually to expand the area he now controlled.

When the regular humans tried to take back the ruins for themselves, a war had erupted. He and his minions hadn’t suffered that greatly, though a few had died. His revenge was twofold and as brutal as could be. First, he bolstered The Legion to make sure that he and his followers no longer came under direct attack; he gave The Legion carte blanche to terrorize the human settlements that refused to leave the general area. He also had plenty of Gen-Dogs; he sent them to wreak havoc on any non-mutagenic human they could find. Despite all of what he did, humans still came back to populate the lands laid barren by his thirst for revenge. He had thought about wiping them all out, but he realized that they were far too numerous; the humans seemed to be like sheep until you harried them too much. When sufficiently stomped on and aroused, the humans would use force of arms against The Legion and even the gendogs if it came to it.

The result was a sort of DMZ separating his followers from the regular humans. The Legion sometimes stayed in the lands he had claimed for his followers, but more often then not, they would be prowling the DMZ or even the human side on their motorcycles looking for pillage and plunder and scared of no one due in part to their numbers. Humans took a grave risk living in the DMZ, but that didn’t scare them; this was their land first, and they weren’t about to let some filthy mutant run them off of it. On the other side of the coin, though, was his paradigm of how things should be. When he called a Council meeting, no one ever knew what was going to happen. Ones who met his favor the last time were excoriated the next time if they were lucky. Other times he would call for the capture of humans from their side of the DMZ; most of the times these unlucky ones were infected with Pilot’s blood. As hateful as the ones were who survived the ordeal, they were forever barred from going back to their old lives; inevitably they came under his sway. The combination of mutagenesis and his monstrous predations damned any and all with gendog eyes, forcing them to stay within this demesne for even bare sustenance; with the presence of so many gendogs in one area, their focus of mind was hard to deny. The unconverted humans within their midst became part of this equivalent of a hive mind in that they didn’t defy Girard. Even if he was insane, the power of Girard’s intellect couldn’t be denied; it allowed him to suborn the dogs and the mutated people to his will and his desires. As he himself had nearly died from the ordeal of transformation, he referred to his followers as…The Revenant. His name was Girard Wilson and he WAS the future!

There were some matters to be dealt with this time; he called for the first captive to be led out into the Council area.

You stand accused of trespassing upon Revenant held lands and you were caught in the act of stealing from me. How do you plead?

The accused had only verbal abuse for him in reply. Girard shook his head; trespass wouldn’t be tolerated under any circumstances. Pilot put a quick and bloody end to the human’s utterances. There were several of the Alpha strain of Gendog hiding in the ruins (products of Pilot copulating with Beta and Delta gendogs), but Pilot was the dominant one as Girard was the dominant one over all of the mutated humans. The Alpha units in hiding wouldn’t live for long if they revealed themselves.

The next matter that was up at hand was a continuous irritation to Girard. Her name was Caroline and though she was only a normal human, Girard considered her to be his property. One night her daughter was accosted by The Legion. She came back a week later bloody and torn and pregnant. The childbirth had killed Samantha; Girard held Caroline responsible for that happening in some twisted way. As such, Caroline had been caught several times trying to leave with HIS progeny; this had been yet another attempt to flee.

What am I supposed to do with you, Caroline? The child is mine, and because of your failure in saving the life of your daughter, you are mine to do with as I please

You and your bastard Legion are to blame for her death!

Samantha used to take some of the Angel Fire I know that you still concoct. She would at time see visions of what was to be. Are you able to do the same thing? Girard had Caroline dragged up to him. I see you are under the effects of the drug you concoct; what prophecy do you have for all of us here?

Caroline spat in his face; Pilot got to their feet with a menacing growl, but Girard stayed the dog as he wiped the spittle from his face. I see only one way to make sure you stay where you are and not try to flee with Revenant progeny; where is the brat?

Two members of The Legion approached with the boy. An attempt by Caroline to seize her grandson from his captors was to no avail. Girard already had a syringe of Pilot’s blood at hand. Despite Caroline’s pleas, Girard plunged the needle into the child without any further hesitation. Almost immediately, the child went into convulsions and turned gray. Caroline screamed every obscenity she could think of, but the damage had been done.

Now you won’t dare leave Revenant held lands, at least with our progeny. Take him with you and you better hope he doesn’t die because if he does, I will hold you responsible for his death.

Caroline was at a loss for words. At times the Angel Fire she ingested set her on edge, but it was at other times when she seemed to speak as if she were far away in some other place. Dovis had stopped convulsing, but his eyes were closed and it felt as if he was burning up with fever. Her eyes took on a glassy appearance as she stared not at Girard, but through him. As she held Dovis to her bosom, she spoke:

One fell and vengeant to break your rule

Two to lead who are thought to be fools

Black and Red with hell its swain

Legion’s doom and Gamma bane."

Without a further word, she left the Council area. Girard pondered what she had said only for a moment before he laughed it off. For further entertainment that evening, a pregnant Gamma dog was killed. The death reflex of the dog forced it to give birth, but Pilot ate the puppies as soon as they emerged. Girard had the Gamma’s head cut off and stuck on a stick; it wasn’t like there weren’t way too many of them already. When he went to sleep that night, no less them five mutated females accompanied him. It was simply how things had been for the longest time and would always be…..

279 A.D. (After the Dark)

Girard had called a council for tonight, but he couldn’t think of anything to do. When someone mentioned Dovis, Girard laughed until tears came to his eyes. Maybe he could create another Gamma human! The Legion shortly returned with a mother and her young daughter. Girard said nothing as he injected the young girl with the blood from Pilot. The mother wept and screamed curses at Girard, but what did he care? If the girl became Gamma human like Dovis, then he would have a matching pair. Symmetry was what the Better Homes & Gardens magazine had mentioned for perfect design. Girard knew he was perfect in design (he considered himself to be self-contained symmetry); that was why his followers adored him so. It was then he started preaching to his followers of his vision; there would inevitably be war between his Revenant and the imperfect humans he had come to despise. The Revenant needed to be prepared for that day when not only Novo Francisco would be theirs, but the whole world.

290 A.D. (After the Dark)

Hiram Schwerin wasn’t in the best of moods at the moment. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to get to The Traders Convention right away; Reno was pretty far north. Despite his attempts to use the most direct route to his destination, it simply wasn’t to be. Jheriam had the counter on constantly now; green was good while red was very bad. As they picked their way north, they were finding a lot of red in their path, forcing them to detour on a regular basis. It hadn’t been more then two weeks since they left Yobros, but it seemed like ages. He had no intention of going back through Vegastown, so he found a relatively decent road that headed in the direction they needed to go. Some rusted signs said 395 or something like that. Not even forty kils from where they had found the road, the counter started guttering into the yellow zone. Hiram warned Jheriam not to touch anything in the traveled area. Hiram looked to the east of where they were; it looked like a dead zone over there. As they headed north, though, the counter went back into the green. As they traveled up into what his atlas called the El Paso Mountains, the counter snapped all the way over to red and stayed there. Hiram was not going to travel through a red zone, so they had to go laterally; that cost an extra day of travel. They found a wider road in the west that headed north; the ruins here were pretty much stripped of anything useful; it looked like all of the ruins along this path were invested. On occasion, the two would see people, but the people were quick to disappear when they saw the wagon. If the burwar didn’t stop anyone from being too curious, the gendogs assuredly did. Spot was an Alpha series gendog that had been bred to be an efficient hunter/killer. It had what looked like black fur on its body and a pair of blood red eyes that were of one color. It was hard to say what Green looked like because it had been further modified to blend in like a chameleon. They both were lab created, but at least Spot looked like a large dog. Green wasn’t even carbon based; it ate rocks and drank water which would have killed a regular dog or human. When it was fed malachite, its body glowed in various shades of green, hence its name. Not all of the ruins on their path had been searched or invested, so Hiram did what he had been doing for the last few years; Hiram was a Trader by profession. A Trader seeks out and finds the Oltec to sell or trade to those who had use for it. Until recently, Hiram had been using his middle name, but Jheriam didn’t like that name. As much as Hiram didn’t see what the big deal was, after all he and Jheriam had been through it was nothing more then a trifle to him, so instead of Evil, he called himself Hiram now.

One thing that was a given in this day and age was that Traders took serious risks in finding the Oltec everyone needed and wanted. Non-mutant humans were no longer the majority race in many parts, and many of the aforementioned were not of a nice nature. Even Hiram and Jheriam had been touched in that way. When his weapon jammed while being attacked by a large desert cat, Hiram had taken essentially a mortal wound while Jheriam got off easier. It was Spots Alpha blood that had saved Hiram, but at a price. Hiram’s eyes were no longer blue; they looked like Spot’s eyes now and when he became irritated his eyes glowed like two coals in a furnace. Jheriam’s eyes were still human looking but they were a pale light blue in color that was much less intense. Parts of her hair were once again colored silvery white. Hiram’s eyes had already caused a good bit of trouble, so he took to wearing sunglasses to shield against any commentary or even worse.

Once Jheriam got over the objection to pilfering the dead, she turned out to be a big help in scavenging. Hiram had lost his usual weapons going over The Shells, but he had replaced what he lost from a weapons depot he had found. He didn’t even notice the weight of the AA-12 he carried anymore; he was used to it. On his right hip was a .45 Colt while on his left was a sort of gray plastic laser weapon. Jheriam was almost identically outfitted, but she had a Saiga equivalent of the AA-12; it wasn’t as heavy, but it only carried twenty rounds in the drum; Hiram’s weapon carried thirty two. Jheriam also carried one of the