The Rebirth of Atte': Book One of the Merinoth Chronicles

By Marc Bonney

A darkly funny tale of three teenage friends plunged into a world on the brink of destruction and their attempts to stay alive in the face of an ancient evil. But staying alive might be easier than staying sane when they are forced to face certain truths about themselves.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 2, 2006
• ISBN: 9781465321954

Marc Bonney

The author is a self-proclaimed sociopath (just kidding (sort of)) who grew up on a small farm in southeastern New York. He has worked in many different jobs including flipping burgers, sales, auto mechanic, plumbing, security and is currently busy hauling poultry around in eighteen wheelers. He hopes to continue changing jobs till he is dead . . . or becomes ruler of the world. In the meantime, he is simply exploring the depraved depths of an alcohol soaked mind. P.S. make sure you read the author’s note before the book or certain parts of the story won’t make sense.

Book preview

The Rebirth of Atte’

Book One of the Merinoth Chronicles

36439-BONN-layout.pdf

Marc Bonney

Copyright © 2006 by Marc Bonney.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

36439

Contents

AUTHORS NOTE

CH. 1

CH. 2

CH. 3

CH. 4

CH. 5

CH. 6

CH. 7

CH. 8

CH. 9

Dedicated to my beloved wife, Ellen, who left this world too soon. May Jehovah’s light guide you to the sweet embrace of Mother Marueth.

AUTHORS NOTE

F ORWARD, AFTERTHOUGHT OR whatever the hell you want to call this.

In case you hadn’t guessed, I’m not thrilled to be writing this. Only at the continued insistence of several people (my wife foremost among them) did I sit down to peck out this waste of perfectly good paper. Mostly, these people wanted two questions resolved; is this story fact or fiction, and where did I get the idea for the story?

For the first, how the hell should I know? Does anyone really know where to draw the line between fact and fiction? If a person can imagine another person’s life from start to finish, then wouldn’t that imaginary life become real? Or, are we all just crazy.

For the second, there were three sources of inspiration (or information, if this is reality). A diary written (supposedly by the hand of Lee Baggotto), a compilation of notes written (supposedly) by several Jerrukki scholars, and my mother, Kim Dubois, who is also, if she is to be believed, my daughter.

Can I take her at her word? I doubt it, since she is living in a nuthouse. And yet, my thirteen-year daughter, named after her grandmother, has recently begun dating a young trouble maker named Brian MacCauley. And he has a friend named, you guessed it, Lee Baggotto. Boggles the mind, doesn’t it?

Anyway, it’s with great pleasure that I give you this novel and the two that will (hopefully) follow. Take it or leave it, your choice. I’m gonna get a beer, curl up with my wife and settle in for a night in front of the boob tube.

The Prophesy of Caremm

In blood and terror shall heartsreaver return

man already destroyed his only weapon

from the heavens the dead walk the earth again

reaping the aberrations of natures caress

death wings the night air

knowledge comes unwanted to the forsaken

betrayal shall beget hope

fear shall bring courage

in anger and blood

we shall be destitute

The Prophesy of Hashathi

When the ancient powers arise from their graves and the armies of Marueth ride the winds across the realm, there shall be pain and suffering to satisfy the Lords of the Abyss.

Town and village, home and hearth shall be remade to piles of ashes and bloodstained streets. Fields shall be sown in blood and a harvest of bones reaped

A crust of bread or a blade of steel, either shall be valued higher than a dragon’s horde of gold and gems.

Where shall we seek salvation?

Seek the unknown Triumvirate, the blessings of the gods.

The Battak ends mark.

The Warthis cuth shall break the trail and pave the road for the might of the Triumvirate but must be wielded by another. The misborn must be challenged forever more by those who seek the home.

Mushatakka will bring inspiration to the people, but will drink gladly of the spilled life and relish of the anger.

What hope is there in this path?

The gods say one word;

NONE

Edited-RebirthofAtte%271.tif.TIF

CH. 1

DREAMS AND HOMECOMINGS

I

T HE DREAM STARTED out like any normal dream which was unusual enough in itself, since He rarely had what any shrink would call a ‘normal’ dream. He was hunting (His second favorite pastime) through a forest of maple and dense undergrowth, when He stepped rather suddenly into the clearing.

That’s when everything started getting weird.

There were a few trees brightly lit by the warm sun, a lush carpet of thick grass and a few delicate flowers which appeared to be dancing in the light breeze. A vine-covered stump in the center of the clearing was home to a family of raccoons who scurried for cover when he appeared. A robin sang from within the depths of the forest behind him. In short, it was a beautiful scene.

But it didn’t feel right. Not Wrong, just not… quite… right.

He couldn’t figure out why this should be, so He hefted his rifle a little higher onto His shoulder (just in case) and stepped further out into the clearing. When He reached the center, that feeling of not right was suddenly drowned out by a sensation that was definitely Wrong. There was a moment of disorientation, as if time, space, matter, anti-matter, energy and everything else scientists use to define our existence was just tossed out the window… and all new rules were drawn up. All in a split second.

When that Wrong had passed, He was still standing, holding His rifle. But He was not in the clearing any longer. He was standing in the middle of a barren plain. The soil beneath His feet was dry and cracked, as though it hadn’t felt the sweet kiss of rain in a decade or more. There were wide fissures splitting the ground, some more than ten feet wide and looked to be more than a hundred yards long and twice as deep. The few trees were gnarled and twisted, without a leaf on their branches.

The only life visible was a few buzzards wheeling toward Him… and the gnats. There were millions… no, billions of them. In huge clouds they flew, looking like so much dust, except that they moved against the wind. He wondered how they managed to find food in this wasteland, at the same time He realized this was the most vivid dream He had ever had. But that wasn’t right either. Vivid implies bright, immemorial, gaudy. This wasn’t… this was real.

He knew then that He had some control over this dream, limited, but control nevertheless. He also realized that if He had control over the dream, then the dream could probably kill Him. He also realized what those buzzards and gnats wanted for food and that they wouldn’t care if His corpse was cold, warm or if it was still standing.

That’s when He decided to run like hell.

He turned, took a single step, and froze. A cold sweat broke out across His flesh as he looked up at It. It was huge. It was massive. And It was real. It was a vision, drawn in stark detail, of the worst nightmare abode this side of hell that could be drawn from the deepest, darkest recesses of the most psychotic minds in the world. Combined. Only worse, because this was real.

Somewhere.

He knew this, knew that somewhere this evil edifice existed and blighted the land around it.

He felt the rifle slip from fingers gone numb as He wished to go home, to wake in his own bed, to forget this blasted place, to forget that being walking toward him with a drawn sword.

Oh, crap!

The being couldn’t possibly have been called a human though it walked on two legs like one. It had gray, scaled skin, clawed fingers and toes, a badly hunched back and red eyes so bright they almost glowed. Everything else was concealed beneath the flowing black cloak and hood it wore. It’s very presence amplified that sense of Wrong that so prevalent in this place.

He barely registered these facts before reaching across His body for the hilt of His hunting knife. His hand didn’t find the knife hilt. Instead, He found the hilt of His scimitar. He didn’t draw, though, because the being chose that moment to stop. It raised It’s hand and there was a flash of grayish light. He felt again that split second of the intense wrong, a strong push…

And sat bolt upright in bed, bathed in a cold sweat, heart pounding at about a hundred miles an hour. As he took in the familiar surroundings of his bedroom, on good old mother Earth, he breathed a deep sigh of relief. That’s when the alarm clock let out its brazen call to morning, scaring him so badly he screamed, jumped about a foot in the air and came down, hard, on the cold floor.

‘Hell of a way to start the last day of school.’ Brian thought, climbing off the floor and heading for the shower.

An hour later, Brian MacCauley sat behind the wheel of his ’70 Firebird, waiting, and thinking. Not even the heavy rumbling of the idling engine could seem to force that dream out of his mind. He could still see the buzzards, hear the gnats, feel that dry, dusty breeze. And it still felt real. He could still see that huge tower, still felt the waves of evil, that Wrongness pouring down the walls. When he thought of that being, it still raised the short hairs on his neck.

Brian heard a door slam nearby, looked up and saw his best friend, Lee Baggotto running across the front lawn. Lee was five foot six and weighed, maybe, a hundred and forty pounds on a good day, and most of that was knees and elbows that never seemed to want to do what he wanted. His thin, unremarkable face was topped with a short clump of tightly curled hair. Brian shoved the dream out of his mind and sat up straighter. Lee clambered in after almost tripping over his own feet and Brian put the car in gear and took off in a cloud of tire smoke.

Last day of school is finally here, huh, Brian? Lee asked in that whiney, nasal voice of his that made him sound like he was on the verge of tears.

Yeah. was Brian’s disinterested reply.

So where’s Kim this morning? Lee tried again.

She went to visit her aunt or something last night.

She going to be at school? Lee asked, while thinking that something had to be really eating at Brian, since the mere mention of Kim usually brought a silly grin. The only response Lee got was a shrug.

‘Alright, time for you to wake up, Brian.’ Lee thought, and said what he thought he was sure would get his buddy just a little riled up, And here I thought you cared about your girlfriend.

Not my girlfriend. Totally flat, because the dream was prying at his mind and still Brian could think of nothing else. Meanwhile, Lee was flattened. Usually, a line like that got him at least a dirty look. Brian and Kim had officially broken up five months ago, but Lee knew that Brian still loved her, and probably always would. Kim had just decided that she’d rather be friends. Oh sure, she still did the horizontal mambo with him once in a while, but, as she put it, ‘that’s purely physical, nothing more.’ End quote.

Lee knew what Brian was like after one of their little ‘physical’ sessions, and that wasn’t what was going on here. If those two had been at it, Lee would have had a new asshole by now. So, in order to find out what was going on, he tried the direct approach.

Alright, what’s got your jockstrap in an uproar?

Brian sighed heavily and ran his fingers through his long hair before answering, Just a weird dream I had last night. It’s kinda got me spooked, I guess.

You still having wet dreams at your age?

Na, nothing like that. Brian replied, shaking his head and chuckling.

Lee decided that now that he had Brian coming out of his funk, it was time to change the subject, You going to Mike’s graduation party tonight?

Can’t. My test for my second black belt is tomorrow morning and I want to be peak.

You sure about that? Gina’s gonna be there and you know how much she likes you.

Thank god I have that test tomorrow. Brian replied and they both laughed. Gina had been after Brian since the seventh grade, but then again, most of the girls were. At a well filled out and muscular six feet, with long, almost blond colored hair, piercingly icy blue eyes, strongly chiseled features and a relaxed nature, it wasn’t surprising. But Brian had given his heart to Kim for the past five years.

Brian pulled into the senior parking area and carefully wove his way towards his spot. They weren’t supposed to be reserved, but his was (at least, it had been since he had literally pushed Jonathan Edgar Winthrop the Third’s brand new Mercedes out of it… and over the embankment. That was also the day that Kim decided she ‘just wanted to be friends’) and lo and behold! There was Gina, just standing next to his spot and waving at them. They looked at each other and groaned, because everyone knew Gina wanted a husband, any husband. A.S.A.P.

Hey, Lee, how’s it hanging? she asked when they had stopped and gotten out, then she winked at Brian, Hiya, good looking.

Good morning, Gina. in unison.

How are my two favorite men this morning? she asked, hooking her arms through theirs.

Well, I’m fine, Lee replied, but Brian was just telling me about this genital rash that he can’t seem to get rid of. Isn’t that right, Brian?

Oh-uh-yeah, in fact the doctor did some more tests, thinks it might be contagious.

Really? You never told me you had any kind of rash. Gina let go of Brian and moved closer to Lee.

You never asked. Say, does this mean you finally got rid of those crabs, Lee?

So far, so good! Lee replied, reaching down to scratch himself.

You two are one pair of sick mothers, you know that? Gina exclaimed, and walked away towards the school building.

I thought you two would never get rid of that tramp. Kim said from behind them, once Gina was out of earshot, "So, how are my two favorite men?"

Kim was the kind of sultry beauty that every man dreams of, with a body that was trim, yet still had all the right curves, an oval face with full lips, a small nose and dark passionate eyes framed with waves of long dark hair. She was also one of the least popular girls in school. Probably because she was the only girl who could wear jeans with a flannel shirt over a heavy metal concert shirt and make it look like she was the height of fashion. The heavy, steel-toed work boots were the best part, though.

Could be worse. Lee replied. Brian was silent (that damn dream had snuck up on him again).

What’s up with him? Kim asked Lee.

I don’t know. Been like this all morning. He’s upset about some wet dream he had or something. Is that Julie Davidson I see? I think I’ll go see if she’s going to Mike’s party. See you guys later!

He never gives up trying, does he? Kim asked, watching Lee jog away, trip over his own feet and just barely manage to keep from sprawling on the asphalt.

Nope, he just goes right on working on her, no matter how many times she rejects him.

Gotta give him credit for that at least. So, what are you doing tonight, going to the big party?

Na, I’m just gonna curl up and go to sleep.

You sure? You might get lucky and find someone there to help you get rid of those wet dreams.

It wasn’t a wet dream, it was just a little weird, that’s all. Besides, I’ve got a Ju-jitsu test tomorrow.

Oh, you and that damned Karate-

Ju-jitsu.

Or whatever the hell it is. Seems like that’s all you give a damn about lately.

I know. It just seems like it’s… the only thing I have left, you know?

What happened to your big dream of being a cop; you know, gonna make a difference and all that crap? You changed your mind about that now?

I just decided that maybe I don’t like the idea of becoming some power hungry egomaniac, going busting into peoples homes in the middle of the night over shit that’s none of my business. Just doesn’t seem to make sense anymore.

So, what’re you gonna do? Can’t spend your… Oh, hell, there’s the warning bell. I’ll see you tomorrow, right? She asked with a playful jab at his stomach.

Yeah, I’ll be home in the afternoon, so drop by and we’ll do something. He watched her walk away, wondering just what the hell had happened to his life.

II

That night it was Lee’s turn to dream. He was standing in an area of craggy hills that stretched away for a couple of miles. Overhead, the sky was the deep purple of twilight. It took Lee a moment to realize that this was because the sun was setting behind him. When he turned to look, he saw It. The tower (the same one from Brian’s dream, though Lee didn’t know it). He was awestruck with a sense of malevolent foreboding that sent a chill up his spine. He broke out in a cold sweat when he heard the soft laughter rippling on the still air. Before he could locate the source, he felt the ground open beneath his feet and he fell.

It felt like he had fallen, end over end, for an eternity when he struck the water. He went under head first, the impact driving the breath from his body. Lee had always been a good swimmer (one of the few physical activities that he was any good at), but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t claw his way to the surface. He felt as if someone had their hand on his head and was holding him under, pushing him deeper and deeper. All the while the laughter rang in his head.

His lungs began to burn for air, his diaphragm twitching spastically, trying to force him to inhale. He clamped his lips down tighter to hold the water out, till his eyes bugged out in desperation. All the while he sank deeper. The pressure increased till he was sure it would crush him to a pulp. Bright spots swam before his eyes in ever tightening circles, darkness pressing in around the edges of his vision. His last conscious thought was ‘This is it, the end. And I’m so damn young!’ before the darkness claimed him and he passed out, inhaling deeply of the cold, dark waters. The sensation of the fluid, which tasted of minerals and salt, pouring into his lungs woke him, instantly terrified, and he felt incredible pain. Nothing but pain. It felt as if every nerve, every cell, every atom in his body had caught fire. He tried to scream and only succeeded in breathing in more of the water, causing a sharp increase in the pain. His muscles began to spasm, his back to arch further and further, till he thought it would snap like a twig.

And still there was the laughter.

And then the water was gone.

Lee collapsed face first in a heap on a smooth stone floor, coughing and vomiting, his limbs twitching uncontrollably. After a long moment he gained some small semblance of control over himself, though he could still feel the pain coursing through his tired limbs.

He finally pulled himself up slowly, opened his eyes and saw nothing. Not even his hand in front of his eyes. Everywhere was darkness… until he looked up and saw the orbs. There were two of them, slightly oval in shape. They didn’t glow or shed any kind of light. They were just there. Lee just sat and wondered what they were… until they blinked.

Lee slid back across the sandy floor till he collided with the far wall, squeaking his fear. A voice boomed mockingly from the darkness, "PETTY MORTAL, YOU AMUSE ME WITH YOUR RIDICULOUS STRUGGLING. BUT IT IS POINTLESS. YOU CANNOT DEFEAT ME, AND THROUGH YOU I SHALL BE FREE."

And that’s when the real pain began.

Brian swung his Firebird into the driveway of the MacCauley mansion and put the transmission in park. That was the nickname that the townspeople had jokingly adopted for the home which had been in the MacCauley family for around a hundred and eighty years, since the first MacCauley had sailed over from Scotland. It had started out as a three room farmhouse and had grown along with the family, patchwork style, till the exterior was a motley conglomeration of textures and styles. There were now fourteen bedrooms, eight and a half baths, six living rooms, four dens, three kitchens, three car garages and two separate cellars. Oh, and the indoor pool which Brian had to walk past on his way to his bedroom.

Brian never even saw the love of his life, Kim standing by the front door. He was very distracted. He was just now coming back from taking his Ju-jitsu test and for the life of him he couldn’t remember what had happened. He had passed, but he didn’t know how he had done it.

He remembered walking into the dojo, going through the back hallway to the locker rooms. He remembered changing into his gi, joking around casually with some of the other students, then going up to the main training room. He remembered patiently doing his warm up exercises and kneeling at the edge of the mat to meditate. He remembered Master Riley telling him it was time, walking to the center of the mat, bowing to the master and then to his sparring partner. Remembered taking his first stance… and then he was facing that being from the dream. And It was holding a sword. No cloak, no hood. Just grey scales, clawed fingers, red eyes… and a face that looked like a grinning dog.

Brian attacked instinctively, and remembered nothing more. The next thing he remembered, his sparring partner was lying on the mat with two other students trying to help him up. His partner was nursing a broken wrist while trying to keep his bloody nose from dripping on the floor. Master Riley said very quietly, You passed, MacCauley… now somebody get Matthew to a hospital. Class dismissed.

So Brian had changed and gone home. And still couldn’t remember what had happened.

Brian, we have a problem. You should learn to answer your fucking phone!

Huh? I had it turned off. Brian wondered how he could have missed something that beautiful, ‘I must really be distracted today.’ he thought before asking what was wrong.

It’s Lee. S-s-something’s wrong with h-h-him. The tremor in her voice scared him, sent a chill up his spine so bad he didn’t ask for the details, just got her in the car and took off.

When Brian first walked into Lee’s bedroom, his first thought was that it smelled like an animal cage that hadn’t been cleaned in months. The stench of urine and excrement was so strong Brian almost vomited. Then he caught the metallic odor of blood as he approached. And something else, something which touched a primordial cord in his subconscious, which tried to make him turn and run screaming from the room.

When he knelt next to the shivering, wide-eyed body of his friend, he realized what he was smelling. Terror. Absolute terror. ‘Not an animal cage, but a Nazi concentration camp.’ Brian thought, ‘This is what they must have been like.’ He then looked into Lee’s wide open eyes. The pupils were little more than pinpricks, the iris’ almost completely closed.

Brian laid a hand on Lee’s shoulder and, for some reason unknown to him, quietly said, Lee, come back to us. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Nothing’s going to hurt you. Nothing, not even a flinch, not even a blink to show Lee had heard. That’s when Brian noticed the welts. Lee’s body was covered with them, long and blazing red, many of them open and weeping blood. They almost looked like whip marks.

Jesus Crist, he’s bleeding! What happened to him? Why didn’t you take him to a hospital? he demanded of Lee’s parents, who were standing in the doorway.

Lee’s father looked down at the floor and said nothing. His mother gave Brian a dirty look and replied, We called the hospital and they sent out an ambulance. The paramedics said his condition wasn’t life threatening and since we don’t have any medical insurance, they wouldn’t take him to the hospital.

Since when do paramedics have the right to make that kind of decision? Brian sighed, Did you try calling any doctors?

Seven, and none of them would make a house call or an appointment without insurance.

Brian suddenly felt very sympathetic towards Lee’s parents and more than a little guilty for letting his first impulse to be blaming them. They did love their son and Brian knew they would have done everything they could have. He looked at Kim and said, We’ll help you take care of him, won’t we Kim?

Kim wiped the tears from her eyes and nodded.

Alright then, first we get him cleaned up, then we try to get some food in him.

So, while Brian and Mr. Baggotto carried Lee’s limp body into the bathroom, Kim changed the soiled sheets and tried to rid the room of it’s foul stench. Mrs. Baggotto went to heat up a pot of tomato soup.

The next day, Brian and Kim went to their graduation. They wanted to stay and take care of Lee, but Mr. And Mrs. Baggotto insisted. As soon as they had their diplomas in hand though, they raced back, still in their gowns. Lee was still comatose and hadn’t eaten a thing. The sheets were now stained with the tomato soup which his mother had tried to trickle down his throat.

Four days later, Lee’s condition hadn’t changed. He just lay there, shivering and staring at the inside of his eyeballs… and bleeding. Brian could have sworn that some of the welts were fresh. At least he had stopped shitting and pissing himself, but this was small comfort to anyone. It just meant his body had run out of wastes to void.

That night, though, he finally broke free of whatever had held him. It happened as Brian and Kim sat up late talking quietly to pass the time. He broke out in a ragged scream suddenly, the first sound he had made in almost a week and then fell sound asleep. Kim reached his side first and announced the news to his parents as they burst into the room. He’s asleep. His eyes are closed and he’s stopped shivering. I think he’s going to make it!

Brian and Kim went to their own homes that morning to try and catch up on their own sleep, leaving Lee snoring loudly but peacefully. Brian went back early that evening to find Kim already there.

How’s he doing? he asked Lee’s parents, while he watched Kim sitting at the kitchen table from the corner of his eye.

He woke up long enough to eat some soup, then fell right back asleep. I doubt he’ll remember it when he wakes up. Mrs. Baggotto replied.

I’m sure he needs the sleep. Is it alright if I go see him for a moment?

Of course. I was hoping you would take a look at him.

Kim groaned softly and rose to her feet, I’ll come too, Love. Brian’s heart stopped for a moment at that. Kim hadn’t called him ‘Love’ in five months, not since they had broken up. Was there hope, maybe just a little, after all? He killed the thought, squashing it harshly before that faint hope could take root. He wasn’t ready for another let down just now, not after the past few days.

When he opened the bedroom door, Brian knew Lee was going to be alright. No matter how clean they had kept him there had always been that… tension in the air, but now it was gone. Lee slept quietly, except for the snores escaping his open mouth. Brian stepped up to his side and checked his temperature and pulse, both of which seemed to be perfectly normal to him. His face was still drawn and a little pale, but that was to be expected after what he had just been through. Brian joined Kim in the chairs they had been using all week.

Well, what do you think? Kim whispered.

He’s still awfully pale, but he looks a lot better than he did this morning. I’d say he just needs some more sleep and a good sit down meal.

There was a long, awkward silence before Kim spoke again.

Bri’? Can I ask you something?

Sure, you can ask me anything you want. I just can’t guarantee an honest answer.

No, Brian, I need an honest answer. Promise?

Brian leaned back and crossed his arms before realizing that he couldn’t refuse, could never refuse her anything. Yeah, sure. I’ll… I’ll be as honest as I can.

Do you remember when you first found out Lee was sick, when you first saw Lee th-the way he was?

Yee-ah. Brian nodded slowly.

Do you remember what you said to him? Do you? Kim suddenly seemed eager, almost desperately so.

Brian thought for a moment, and the words came back. They sounded weird to him, like something from a fairy tale or one of those fantasy books he had read. He squirmed in embarrassment. Yeah, I remember. What about it?

Why did you say that to him?

I don’t know; it just came out. Seemed right at the time. Why?

It just seemed so strange when I heard it… like you were shouting down a long tunnel, or a really deep well, all hollow and full of echoes.

But I barely whispered it. How could it echo?

I know it seems- she broke off to stare intently at him a moment, You… you really love him, don’t you?

Caught totally off guard, and feeling his masculinity being threatened, he forgot about Lee and shouted, Just what the hell are you talking about!?

At the noise, Lee decided to wake at last with a calm yawn. G’ morning, you guys. What are you doing here so- He stopped he saw the alarm clock. It was eight-fifteen. Jesus, why didn’t you two wake me?! We’re going to be late for graduation! He started to roll out of bed, but Brian crossed the room quickly and just barely managed to hold him down.

Lee, relax, you already missed graduation… by a week.

Oh, that was really smooth! Kim snapped.

What are you two taking about? I have not! Kim, get out of here so I can get dressed and we can get going! Jeeze, sometimes you two have a sick sense of humor. Oh, Brian, I have got to tell you about this dream I had last night! Kim, why aren’t you leaving?

That’s when Lee’s parents, having heard all the noise, burst in, his mother rushing to him, squealing, Lee! Thank god you’re alright; we were so worried! We thought you’d never wake up!

His father just stood in the doorway and grinned, as if seeing his son for the first time.

An hour later, Lee was finishing a huge meal of steak, potatoes and buttered spinach (the latter at his mother’s insistence), he told them all about his dream. Brian flinched at his mention of the tower, but no one noticed, so he kept silent. When Lee had finished his tale he asked them, Was I really asleep for a week? No wonder I’m so hungry!

Kim glanced at Brian before answering, You weren’t really… asleep, Lee. I think you better brace yourself for this. And then she told him everything, how he had lain shivering, about his wide open eyes, the welts. But not how he had defiled himself or how she had given him sponge baths. Better to leave him some dignity, was her thinking.

The whole time she talked, Lee just stared at her, open-mouthed. Brian reflected on how gaunt he looked. At five foot six inches and a hundred and forty pounds, he had always been a bit on the gawky side (okay, a lot gawky and more than a little clumsy) but now he looked positively skeletal, but at least the food had started to put a little color back in his face.

When Kim fell silent, Lee continued to stare at her for a moment before grinning, and said, I guess I’m just lucky to have two good friends who are willing to wipe my ass whenever I get into trouble.

As everyone broke out into a round of strained laughter Brian got up, put Lee in a lose choke hold and gave him a friendly nuggy, Of course we would. Who else would be willing to cheer me up when I get into one of my funks?

Or keep me from killing him when he does? Kim slipped in between her giggles and everyone laughed again, this time more heartily.

III

Meanwhile, on a cracked and barren plain that was maybe just a few trillion miles away, in a different star system, or maybe occupying the same space on a different plane of existence, (who can really be sure of these kinds of things, anyway?) an event was occurring that would have brought tears to the eyes of anyone watching. But no one was there except a few buzzards and a couple billion gnats.

The wind had been blowing from the East to the West, but suddenly reversed itself and blew West to East, then changed again to North to South. Now South to North. And back to East/West. West/East. North/South. South/North. East/West. Again and again, till the buzzards grew so dizzy they were unable to control their flight anymore and crashed to earth.

The clouds, which had been looming on the horizon in all directions for a week, rushed in on the wings of the maelstrom to collide in a huge, swirling mass that threatened to turn into a tornado if given just the right push. The flash and boom of distant lightening only underscored the terrible symphony which was rapidly building to a crescendo as the thunder heads opened up in a downpour, turning the parched earth to mud in seconds. An unholy steam quickly rose, releasing the stench of rotting corpses from the earth and permeated the air as the acid rain began consuming the remains of the few trees and the corpses of the buzzards, leaving vulgar skeletons behind.

No, this rain would nourish no life.

A single fat bolt of lightning found it’s way to the floor of the plain, leaving a spot of superheated earth that glowed white hot in the fog. Rather than cooling it, however, the rain began to heat it further. The spot began to grow taller and taller as fat strands of steam twisted and writhed around it. It quickly assumed the rough shape of a man, then finally began to cool. He looked around and laughed.

He made a gesture that seemed almost absent minded and the rain stopped, the clouds fleeing back to the far reaches of sight. He calmly surveyed his surroundings and nodded in satisfaction while that gentle breeze returned to blow his white hair away from his chalky face. Now we’ll see about that silly prophesy, won’t we! He shouted hoarsely and turned, laughing, towards the tower. His tower. Tendrils of smoke drifted up from his shoulders as he began walking.

Talfinn had come home.

IV

October 23, 2012

In a hunting cabin, deep in the woods of the Ozark mountains.

The New York Times

Armageddon on the horizon?

Today in a press conference, Russian president Mikhail Gorbachev reaffirmed his stand on strategic nuclear arms deployment if the Chinese invading Russia’s borders continue to use chemical weapons. The new Chinese Emperor Chan Ling responded by saying that If even one warhead crosses our borders, we will turn Russia into a radioactive cesspool.

In a related story, President John Kerry stated in his inauguration speech that he would continue the late President Hillary Clinton’s siding with Russia. Only we won’t be strategic about it. We’ll knock them back to the stone age… twice! Once we have managed to capture Osama bin-ladin that is

This after just over one week after the attacks on October 11 which began with the destruction of the Sears tower in Chicago in a mirror of the attack on the World trade center in New York city on September 11, 2001, and ended in the assassination of president Hillary Clinton.

When asked to comment on the stabbing death of his ex-wife, former president Bill Clinton replied, Those bastards have stirred up a hornets nest now!

Jesus! Did you read this shit on the front page? They sound worse than a bunch of kids! World leaders, my ass. Brian said, handing Lee the paper and taking the joint from Lee’s mouth.

Yeah, I read it. They do sound pretty ridiculous. Lee replied, glancing at the front page before flipping back to the comics. You don’t really think they’ll do it, do you?

Do what?

Start a nuclear war.

Nah, not even the Chinese are that stupid… I think. Brian sighed, took another toke and handed Lee the roach.

You sure left me a lot, you fiend. Lee snapped, tossing the newspaper onto the couch and put his feet up on the table.

Sorry, I’ll roll us another one as soon as Kim’s done cutting the firewood.

Think we should go help her?

Like hell! She’d just go off on one of her feminist speeches about how she can work just as hard as any man, thank you very much!

But if we don’t help she’ll be just as mad because we were too lazy to help her.

Which would you rather do, work and be a chauvinist pig or relax and be a warm, lazy, bum?

Alright, whatever… Hey, Bri? What if they do?

What if who does what?

What if they start launching missiles at each other? What would we do?

I don’t know what you’re going to do but, I’m gonna put my head between my knees and kiss my ass goodbye.

Lee snorted, dropping his feet to the floor, What an optimist!

I am an optimist. I’m sure that we wouldn’t survive and that it would be over very quickly. How much more optimistic can you get about a nuclear war and the end of the world?

Well you don’t have to be so damn glib about it! You’re talking about dying here!

What’s so bad about that? Seriously, what do you have to look really forward to? You want to be a defense lawyer right? You’ll spend your life getting criminals set free in the name of justice. Maybe you’ll get married and have a couple of kids. Build up a little nest egg. Then you’ll get divorced and she’ll take at least half and the kids will bleed off the rest before they tell you what a lousy father you were. Odds are you’ll be bald, fat, broke and nursing a bleeding ulcer before you’re forty… that’s if you don’t get shot by one of your clients. Sounds really great to me.

Boy, you really know how to cheer a guy up.

Sorry, can’t help it. Just part of my naturally cheery personality. Brian said with a big grin.

Just then, Kim kicked open the door, her arms loaded down with firewood and glared at the boys, looking ready to chew nails. She stomped over to the fireplace and threw the wood into a pile, I really want to thank you two big strong men for all your help with the firewood. It’s so nice to know that chivalry is still alive and well, especially on such a cold, miserable day!

Gee, we didn’t think such a modern and independent woman would want our help. Brian replied, barely hiding a grin.

Of course I wanted help! It’s cold as shit out th- she started to retort, then stopped suddenly when she smelled the pot smoke, "No wonder! You two sit in here getting stoned on my pot, while I bust my hump cutting wood. There better be plenty left!"

Brian decided to get her really riled up, Nope, all gone. He hung his head in mock shame but really was just hiding his smirk, while Lee tried to climb under the table without her noticing.

What?!! That was a half ounce of good Thai! How could you two smoke the whole bag?!

Didn’t smoke it. Brian replied quietly.

Oh. Well, then what the hell did you do with it?

I… well, I, sort of, dropped it in the chile.

How could you be so… chile? You made chile? As in the famous MacCauley Five Alarm Chile?

Yup.

Bless you!. she exclaimed and raced for the kitchen as Lee started laughing so hard he fell out of his chair. A moment later, Kim returned with three steaming bowls of Brian’s famous Five Alarm Chile (he had thought about marketing it, but it had one fatal flaw). So, what were you two talking about before I came in?

Oh, not much. Brian was just explaining why we should just kill ourselves after highschool and save ourselves a lot of pain and misery. Lee replied around a mouthful.

No, no. You missed the point I was trying to make. What I was saying is that you shouldn’t worry yourself to death about the future. At least not the future which you yourself have no control over. It’ll get here sooner or later. When it does, deal with what you can and to hell with the rest.

You mean you don’t want a secure job and a nice house? That’s not a smart way to live Bri’. Kim remarked

That’s not what I was even talking about, but even that’s easy to get, you know. Just go kill off a few people and then turn yourself into the police. I guarantee you’ll have three hots, a cot and all the sex you could want for the rest of your life. So long as you don’t mind the barbed wire and search lights.

See what I mean? Lee remarked moodily.

Yeah, a real inspiration for the continuation of civilization. Why don’t you just push the damn button yourself and get it over with, huh?

Sorry guys, I just call ’em like I see ’em. Besides, if someone does push the button, what would happen to the rest of this chile? Brian smirked and took another bite.

Later that night, as they sat in front of a crackling fire, oiling up their rifles and passing around another joint, Kim brought the subject up again.

So… if there’s no point in worrying about anything, why do you bother going on?

"I never said there was no point in worrying about anything, just the things you can’t control. In other words, when god calls your number, it’s over. So don’t spend your life avoiding the inevitable, just live while you can."

"So what kind of stuff do you worry about?"

Well… right now I’m worrying about how big of a deer I’m going to get and how I can keep Lee from shooting me in the ass tomorrow.

Very funny. You mean to tell me you’re content to stay a ‘rent a cop’ for the rest of your life? Lee asked sourly.

Why not? It’s as secure a job as they come. Brian replied, just catching Kim out of the corner of his eye, when she stuck out her tongue at him.

But it’s a dead end job. I thought you wanted to get married someday. How do you expect to support a family on minimum… What is that stench?

I don’t know, but it smells like a dead skunk. Brian replied, then noticed Kim trying to hide her head, Aw, Jeeze, it’s Kim! She farted!!

Man, why did you have to feed her that… uh, oh.

What’s wrong with you? Brian demanded.

Lee squirmed, Uh… well, I was just thinking that maybe we should sleep as far away from each other as possible tonight.

Why should we do that? Brian demanded suspiciously.

Well…

Christ, not you, too! When will I learn not to make that stuff? Good night! Brian grabbed a blanket and ran to the far side of the small cabin.

At dawn the next day, they separated to go hunting; Lee and Kim heading south, while Brian went off northwest. He traveled easily through the fields of timothy and secondary growth, his rifle hanging from his shoulder, an illegal .22 caliber pistol riding low on his hip with a pair of knives opposite. As the sun continued to climb, he almost felt like singing (but he didn’t want to spook any deer) in spite of the dark melancholy he had been struggling with lately. He hadn’t mentioned what he felt to anyone, not even Kim and Lee, but it was really starting to preoccupy his mind the past couple of months. It wasn’t really a state of depression, more like boredom.

He soon reached a stand of pine with no shrubs around to block his line of sight. He had used this same spot last year and had gotten lucky on the second day of the season by dropping a nice eight pointer. Settling on a fallen tree, he thought back to the conversation of the night before. Now, looking back while in these tranquil surroundings, he realized just how much he sounded like a pessimist. Well, maybe he should try to look more towards the bright side of life. He certainly wasn’t endearing himself to anybody with his gloomy attitude.

He leaned back against an upthrust branch with a deep sigh and closed his eyes. It took less than a minute of peace and quiet for him to fall fast asleep.

When he awoke, the sun was low on the horizon with less than an hour before sunset. He had slept through the entire first day! He was just wondering how many deer he had missed while he slept when one stepped out of the foliage to his left. A big buck, twelve points at least. It regarded him curiously for a moment before trotting off just as Brian reached for his rifle.

Perfect ending to a perfect day. he growled as he stood up, shouldering the rifle. Might as well start heading back, since I probably won’t see any more till after dark. but he did see others; four more in fact, but didn’t manage to get off any shots before they spooked. He was starting to think maybe he had been right the night before; life stinks and then you die.

Reaching the cabin just as the sun dipped below the horizon, he stepped inside expecting to see Kim and Lee sitting at the table, but the cabin was empty. He flicked on the lights and emptied his rifle and the pistol before noticing the breakfast dishes still in the sink. That told him they hadn’t been back for lunch, either, since Kim (feminist though she was) couldn’t leave a dirty dish around.

Brian fixed himself a sandwich and went out to the small porch to await their return, which he expected at any moment. When they hadn’t returned by late evening, he went back in and laid down to sleep. There was little point in looking for them in the dark, and since they were both missing, they were probably together, armed, and could take care of each other. He kept telling himself that, over and over, hoping to make himself believe they were alright.

It was a long restless night.

He woke before dawn and spent a couple of hours pacing the cabin, worry knotting his gut. He finally decided he was wasting energy and went outside to work through some practice forms with his sword. If Kim and Lee weren’t back by noon, he’d go find them.

He slid on his homemade armor with it’s interlocking steel rings and blackened fish-scale (which he wore mainly because the thirty odd pounds helped build up his stamina) and tightened up the straps. He tucked the studded leather wrist bracers and greaves into his waist band, then snatched up his scimitar.

He had worked out for an hour and a half before his arms began to