To Walk

We're All Coming

In a cave lit by a campfire, miles away from Ava and the hidden valley...

Damon Rivers' POV

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I had never been the same since that attack.

That awful, horrible night.

The night my life was forever changed...for the worse.

That fateful night, when everything I knew and had grown to love was stripped away by a heartless, evil demon.

I remember the fire and pain...horrible agony that would not stop no matter how much I screamed against it. I had been trapped in the basement of a burning house. The fire got me. Burned me. I still bear the scars. The fire had mutilated half my face, turning my hazel left eye a milky color, and burning away the dark brown hair on the left side of my head. Later, I shaved my hair into a mohawk to balance it out and wrapped my left eye and lower face in red cloth. That night, I had vowed to dedicate my life to a cause many deemed hopeless.

I swore to have my revenge, no matter how many people told me that my goal was impossible. Over the years, after I mourned the loss of my loved ones and as I grew accustomed to the scars and my new life, I began to travel and seek out those who harbored the same hatred as me. Battle-scarred men and women who sought but one thing, and were willing to throw their lives away for one purpose.

Revenge.

Revenge on the ONE who had torn them down to this level.

Revenge on the ONE who had gone without punishment for his evil deeds for hundreds of years.

HIS punishment would be paid in full.

In HIS blood.

Now, about seven years later, I sat on a large stone by a campfire in the mouth of a shallow cave. I was around twenty-three now, though I had lost count during my recovery period. Four men, dressed in hardy, yet travel-worn clothes sat next to and behind me. Like me, some sharpened their weapons, and a few repaired boots or cloaks with needles of bone. Two men and a woman were out scouting for the next day's ride. Another woman and a young man were lookouts, and yet another man was looking after our horses. Ten. I had ten followers. All of them willing to fall on their own swords if it meant I would live and slaughter HIM.

A sudden disturbance at the mouth of the cave caught my attention. I drew the rock I was using to sharpen my battleax down the gleaming blade one last time, held it up to inspect the keen edge, and glanced at the noise. One of my scouts, Roarn, a large man with a thick beard and a massive ax of his own stood there, panting. He'd been a lookout, and, despite his size, was unmatched in his camouflaging abilities. I stood, "Roarn, what have you to report." My voice was muffled by my scarf and raspy, from the smoke inhalation all those years ago, and when I spoke, even grown men flinched slightly.

Roarn, nearing forty years, dipped his head in a slight bow, "Sandy's returned, sir. She took my shift and sent me back with a full report." He held out his meaty, gloved hand. Nestled within was a small folded paper. A quick flick of his wrist sent the tiny thing over the fire and right into my outstretched hand.

I nodded, "Very well. You may turn in for the night. We have a long way to go tomorrow, and it will require much stealth."

He inclined his head in a small bow again, skirted the fire, and went to the back of the cave to lay down. I unfolded to paper and studied the markings and detailed plots and suggestions on how we should proceed from our current camp. A corner of my mouth lifted in the faintest ghost of a smile. I relied on my followers, they did their jobs well, and I respected them for it. They knew this and, in turn, gave me loyalty without bounds. I felt honored to have so many skilled people accepting me as their leader. I HAD been the one that goaded them into action, though.

Deciding on the best route, I refolded the paper and tossed it into the fire, its contents already memorized, "I'll take first watch, Gad, you fetch the scouts."

Gad, about thirty years old, sheathed the knife he'd been sharpening and gave me a small nod before slipping into the darkness. I could hear the moaning of the undead, but I knew any of my men (and women) could take them easily. As the scouts began to filter into the cave, the newest recruit halted before the fire. I was standing, the fire at my back, waiting for everyone to get inside before getting into a good lookout position in the woods, "What is it, Mason?"

Mason, who had just turned twenty years, cleared his throat, "I'd like to take first watch with you, sir, if you don't mind."

I smiled slightly, though it was hidden by my mask, "If that is what you so desire, then yes." I turned to Candra, a strong woman and my third recruit, "Candra." She glanced back at me over her shoulder. I drew an ax, preparing to head out into the night, "Choose the second and third watches. You take fourth."

Candra, whose age I did not know, replied with a hard tone, "Yes sir."

I gestured to Mason with my ax, and he drew his sword.

He and I started out from the campfire and were swallowed by the night.

I whispered to myself, "I'm coming for you, demon."

"We're all coming."