Descent into the Abyss

Chapter 38

"Bullshit!" One of the men exclaimed, Blake unsure if it was Ryan or Nick.

Jeffrey stepped forward, "It's not. Not from the way Michael is mobilizing his forces."

"Which is why I called this emergency meeting," Leo proclaimed. "If Michael and Detroit is preparing for war, then we have to be ready."

"Why would they attack Chicago though?" Amy inquired, casting a hateful stare in the direction of the unknown male. "Shouldn't they be after who killed Kyle?"

"That's the problem, Amy," Nathaniel remarked. "Chicago launched an attack on Michael and Detroit the day before... What's your name, again?"

The unknown male stepped forward, Blake finally getting a good look at the young man. Dark shaggy hair and a young face, lean body with more muscle than fat. Blake guessed mid-twenties, but this world had a way of aging you fast.

"Marcus," the young man replied to Nathaniel, his gaze glancing over each of the people gathered.

"Alright, as I was saying," Nathaniel resumed. "He killed Kyle the day after the attack. And Michael is a lot of things, but stupid isn't one of them. He must've put the two attacks under the same general umbrella of Chicago trying to take him out. He's wrong, obviously, but we can't risk negotiations."

"He isn't mobilizing that many people and weapons, nor traveling that distance, just to be convinced it's a misunderstanding," Jeffrey explained, looking around the hallway.

The General stepped to the center of the group, "Alright, before we continue this, let's head to my quarters. No sense standing out here in the hallway arguing."

Everyone glanced about, waiting for the first to follow the General, whom had already turned and began walking. Jeffrey, Blake, and Nathaniel started first, followed by Nick, Ryan, Amy, and bringing up the rear, Marcus. Blake glanced back once, noting the young man's choice in placement.

"Could he really be powerful enough to kill a Ravenport? And what was with the sword on his back?"

Turning back, the General came into view, standing frozen in place, staring out the window to the river.

"General?" Nathaniel asked, stepping closer, stopping cold in his own tracks.

The weathered, wrinkled face of the General conveyed one singular emotion: terror.

          ******  ******  ******

The sun still high in the sky, Marcus stood on the outskirts of south-eastern Chicago. Cars had been removed from the interstate, he noted, glancing about at the debris still lying on the bridge. Calumet river ran under the I-90 route into Chicago, Marcus walking closer to the city and to the colony.

"You heading in?" A voice called out, a man walking up the road towards him.

"Kou?" Marcus whispered as he turned and took notice of the man.

"He's not expressing any ill intent. He could be friendly," Kou replied. "Perhaps he knows the colony?"

"Yeah, I heard Chicago was a good colony. Especially if you want civilized people," Marcus lied, hoping it was convincing enough.

"It is," The stranger answered back, walking up next to him. "My name's Jeffrey."

"Marcus," He returned.

"Where are you coming from?" Jeffrey asked, taking a step across the bridge.

"Detroit," Marcus answered truthfully.

Jeffrey turned back, "That's weird. Me too. Figured if we got here same time, we must've left at the same time. Right?"

"I went the long way, I guess," Marcus chuckled, staring to follow. "I did head down to Toledo and Fort Wayne first."