Aftermath of the Reckoning

Chapter 23

Sitting in the tall grass of Zion Cemetery, Nex waited. With a hooded ivory robe that shaded his face, he almost appeared to be a natural extension of the pure white marble tombstone against which he reclined.

Leonard Holmes

July 23, 1991

September 1, 2011

Unfortunately, nature had never experienced anything like Nex before. Normally when a person dies, they do not take with them the lives of billions. They do not suddenly acquire a different set of rules by which to exist on the earth. And they do not return to their own grave to sit, waiting.

In another time, he’d gone by Leonard. What did a name really mean anyway? None of them represented his true name. That would only be revealed to him on the last day.

And she did not tell him when that day would be. Freya shared none of the prophecies with him. She only teased him with hints, like how he must wait patiently for two more days. At that time the thief and the one-armed man would arrive and he would provide that which they sought. Freya was never wrong.

That bitch. He hated her. He also loved her and would do anything she requested without question. Because that was part of his nature now, as it had been for the last fourteen years. If only he had obeyed more dutifully for the first two of those years, he would not be caught in the purgatory of his current existence.

Nex existed now as an utter failure, impotent to carry out the purpose originally destined for him. Though nature had not expected his arrival, it had adapted over time and eventually acquired immunity to his persuasions. After the first year, he grew lazy with the ease in which he could perform his duties and drunk with power. By the time he noticed the change in human biology, the world had already moved on without him. That didn’t stop him from continuing to try, however. Freya did let him continue with a few of his...experiments.

A tug at his robe interrupted his musings. “Uncle Nex, I’m hungry.”

Dressed only in dirty overalls, the small boy pulling at Nex’s robe looked to be no more than six years old. His brown hair, matted to his head with dirt and oil, hung low over his ears and forehead. A dark smear of half dried mud, encrusting his nose and the right side of his face, cracked and flaked onto his bare shoulder as he talked.

Nex turned to the boy. “Now Joseph, what do we say when we want something?”

“Pleeease!”

“Very good.” Nex placed a long bony hand on the boy’s head. While it may have appeared to an onlooker a gesture of affection, he used the touch to gauge the boy’s health. Hungry, that much was true. However no other ailments presented themselves in his body yet, at least none that he had induced.

Nex stood and gestured to the boy. “Follow me, I believe Lilith has already delivered today’s meal to the mausoleum.”

Nex could never predict when Joseph would be hungry. The boy only seemed to eat, sleep and play. Having no need or desire to eat himself, and having long since forgotten the feeling of hunger, Nex found it mildly annoying.

Otherwise the boy usually kept to himself, frequently playing with Lilith, Gilgamesh or Shax. The three wolves — or ‘embers’ as outsiders liked to say — loved the company and attention. Somehow, Joseph had never been burned, even after riding them bareback, which he did frequently.

Nex didn’t care for such trifling mysteries. The beasts that Freya provided him only insulted him, emphasizing that he could accomplish nothing without her. The colloquial title of necromancer never really suited him, but it irritated him to know that nothing could be further from the truth. For such a title implied great power — that which he once possessed. Freya assured him that all would be made right, that he would one day rise again in fulfillment of his destiny, he only need to endure patiently for a little while longer.

Nex opened the rusty metal door to the limestone mausoleum, revealing a spacious interior lit with torches that never expired. Doors to smaller tombs lined the eastern and western walls of the mausoleum. In the center stood a simple circular altar carved from granite. On it rested the bloody remains of some unidentifiable creature procured from the nearby woods. Lilith always managed to sear the fur off her prey while leaving the internal organs and meat intact and raw for Joseph.

Joseph ran to the stone pedestal and happily reached into the bloody mess, pulling handfuls of innards and flesh into his mouth, like a kid allowed to gorge themselves on halloween candy for the first time.

“Best to slow down, Joseph. Wouldn’t want to get a stomach ache.” Absent-mindedly, Nex considered that would be an interesting turn of events. The kid had an iron stomach, or so it seemed, so if any such illness did befall him, perhaps it would signify the return of Nex’s power.

No, that wouldn’t happen. But something would happen, and soon. Nex could feel it, something big. He needed only to exercise a little more patience, needed only to wait.

***

If she didn’t know where they’d be arriving in a few hours, Zoey would have considered this to be one of the more enjoyable days in her life. The autumn wind flowing through her hair, the firm yet gentle cadence of Halcyon’s gait, the warmth of the rising sun on her face, all of this intoxicated her to the point where she almost felt guilty.

As they approached the stream that fed into Lake Wappapello, Zoey slowed Halcyon’s stride to match Coco’s reduced speed. She still couldn’t get over how well Patch handled Coco with only one arm. He must have practiced a lot in the Harvester’s tribe though she didn’t recall ever seeing them use horses.

Patch slowed to a stop and extended his arm, palm down, to indicate that she do the same. Patch said in a quiet voice, “See those green minnow traps? The Risam tribe inhabits the town of Greenville, just to the southeast of us. They’re not on good terms with the Harvesters.”

Zoey had met their leader, Lucas Risam many years ago before he formed the tribe. He tried to enlist her as one of the founding members and did not take it well when she refused. “I’m familiar with them. Not exactly a welcoming bunch.”

“I’m afraid we may be too close to their town.” Patch jumped off Coco. He reached into one of the saddlebags, pulled out a revolver, and paused — as if examining it for the first time.

In all her years of surviving, Zoey had only once used a gun. In addition to their rarity and the limited supply of ammunition, firearms simply didn’t suit her style of combat. She asked, “What are you going to do with that?”

“Stay here with the horses. I’m going to cross the stream and take a look around before we proceed further. I should be back in about five minutes.”

Zoey jumped off her horse in one swift movement. “Patch, you and I both know that isn’t going to happen. I’m going with you. Besides, the horses will not run away, I know them both pretty well.”

Patch looked at her as if weighing his options. Finally, he said, “OK, just stay a few feet behind me and use the trees for cover. I don’t know what kind of weapons they carry but I have a feeling this area may be patrolled.”

Zoey reached back and pulled the knife from her belt sheath. “Don’t worry about me. Let’s just —”

Two arrows flew past her, one barely missing her head. The other impacted a tree a few feet away and exploded, sending shrapnel flying into her arm and leg. Coco and Halcyon spooked and immediately took off to the west.

Ignoring the stinging pain in her leg, Zoey darted behind a tree and watched to see Patch take cover behind a nearby oak. Although she could not see her skin through her clothing, she suspected her injuries were not severe due to the lack of significant bleeding. Patch also seemed to be unharmed, for now.

Where the fuck do you get exploding arrows?

She couldn’t let Patch get hurt. But as her concern for Patch’s safety grew, so did her anger. If Risam and his band of merry assholes wanted to pick a fight her, she wouldn’t disappoint them.