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                                             The Lurking Horror

                                                    By Michael D. Griffiths

Part I (to review- for return readers-or new readers )  Please scroll down for the final part of the series!

    Alex left Drew in Erika’s room. He had wanted to stay with the traumatized girl, but the afternoon had become a bit of a chick fest and being the only guy in the room had grown old after a while.

    Welcome sunlight streamed in through the windows. Despite their victory, he was not fool enough to think that the Caradon had not damaged the Earth. Even though the alien race had been defeated and their ships driven off his planet, the effects of their foul machines and the war itself left the Earth wounded and torn. Most days were still overcast and far colder than this time of year should dictate.

    As he moved through the Crater Base, he wondered how much longer they were really going to stay here. Almost all of the exhibits had been moved and the hallways lay crammed with weapons, sleeping rolls, backpacks, and people. The place smelled like old feet and worse. Months of freedom after living on the edge, left men with idle time and more than a few woman moved by him with distended pregnant bellies. How they had the privacy to do so in such close quarters was beyond him and he was glad that Drew and himself did not have to suffer these same conditions.

    Men looked up and opened their mouths to ask him something. He quickened his pace to such an extent that he moved well past them, before they could get their words free. They were reaching a strange phase here at the base. Besides Erika’s strange encounter there had been no real fighting for almost two months now.

    There was much talk about what the group’s next steps should be. Many wanted to claim Flagstaff as their own, but Alex had not had too much luck with that last time he had gone up against the Darcarre living there. Regardless of his personal feelings, he wanted to wait for his brothers to return before he tried anything that would involve uprooting everyone. At least Erika had been able to tell him that David was okay. Devo was of course gone as well, supposedly in search of David, but one never knew much in regards to his youngest brother anymore. No, it was not time for them to hit Flagstaff yet.

    His real problem was all the men under his command. Sure, there were not many compared to the thousands they had worked with before, but there had been a war then. He wanted to keep the force he did have together, because he knew he would need them. Still, when he heard about minor desertions it almost made him happy, because at least that would mean a few less mouths for him to try to feed.

    Venison and Elk provided the majority of their diet these days, but bullets were starting to become scarce. Even scarcer was gas and he knew from personal experience that no one wanted to haul a five hundred pound elk twenty miles back to the base. Soon he mused, they may have to switch to bows and horses, but they were not quite there yet.

    Seeing Phillip out on the ledge overlooking the Crater, he hastened to join him. He, as always, wore his leather overcoat and Indiana Jones hat. Smoke curled around his head as he took a deep drag off a fat joint, then slowly blew it out into the still air. Phillip was definitely another thing that kept the men around. The Bacchanalian’s brewing ability, as well as his few choice plants, made him a very popular man around the base.

    Favoring him with a good natured smile, Phillip offered him a hit. Alex did not partake much these days, but since the women were all locked away together, he allowed himself to indulge a bit. “And to what do I owe this pleasure,” Phillip asked while handing him a labelless bottle of ale.

    Gratefully taking a pull, Alex said, “I was just hoping to breath easy for a moment. That call from Erika in the middle of the night did not do much for my nerves.” Taking another pull, he handed the joint back to his oldest friend.

    “Most likely you’ll see trouble no matter where in the world you go these days.”

    “I’d guess that is true. There was certainly no calvary showing up to help us, when we were trying to save the planet.”

     “I was trying to think about this.” Phillip said, taking a long drag. He offered it to Alex, but the Stalwart waved it away. It was pretty small by this point and Phillip flicked it into the crater. “How cold do you think it got here last winter?”

    “Out here...probably twenty-five below, in Flagstaff add another fifty to that.”

    “Basically, insanely cold. Now figure most of the country is colder than us so they hit a hundred and fifty below and with no heat or electricity you are pretty much dead.”

    “The same must have happened to a lot of animals,” Alex said sadly.

Nodding, the man in brown continued. “Even places like Florida and Mexico probably got down to negative twenty at least and it would even hit them harder as they are not used to anything near that.”

    “People have a way of surviving.”

    Phillip opened his mouth, but another voice beat him. “Hey Alex. Shit, I’m glad I found you. Somebody is here. He had a bunch of questions and wants to talk to someone in charge. He says it is important.” Looking towards the upper walkway, they saw the blue haired punker Gob Awful. He had scammed up a new set of jeans somewhere, except they were covered with strips of house paint. Like usual, his pale diminutive body was agitated and his fingers moved stiffly, drumming a nervous beat against the guardrail.

    “I had better go.”

    “And I am of course, coming.”

    Five minutes later they were talking to the man in the back of the Anti-Nowhere League vehicle known as the Tank. Alex had a great fondness for the converted UPS truck, for from the top of it, he had been able to retrieve his own ride Serpent. The fact that a Darcarre ever drove it was something that still put his teeth on edge.

    The insides were dark and covered with weapons. Normally this would not be the type of place he wanted to bring a stranger, but the man was a bit off and he did not want to deal with disturbing the masses or the ladies inside yet.

    With him were only Phillip and Z.T., who had somehow been invited by someone. Since Z.T. had become the leader of their largest warrior group, known as the Anti-Nowhere League, having the man show up was not an illogical choice. The big man’s bulk barely fit into the folding chairs they were using, but he did not notice. His long black hair would have offended a Medusa and his stained white tie shirt blared Opinion Zero in bold bloody letters.

    Sitting across from the three of them, closest to the door, was a haggard and perhaps destroyed man. His eyes were wild and manic. Unkempt hair and a four days growth of beard added to this effect. Many might have simply thought the man mad and disregarded what he might have to say, but Alex had years of training and experience as a Psychotherapist before the invasion. He knew that whatever had happened to this man, happened recently and his behavior was not a result of a lifetime illness or Xemmoni taint. The real question was, what could have driven this man over the brink?

    “Is this it?” he asked while his eyes darted madly?

    Keeping his voice calm, “if you mean that we are the only people showing up for now, than yes.”

    “I heard something about a man named David.”

    Inwardly Alex winced. Damn it. What always made David so damned special. “David is on assignment,” Phillip answered for him.

    “Oh, well you might want to get him for this.”

    “Get him for what?”

    “There is something. Something bad.”

    Steeling himself, Alex said. “I think it would be best if you started at the beginning of your tale.”

    After more eye darting, the man known as Raymond Fellus began his story. “I’m… well not only me, but everyone else was from Altheimer, which is just a small town in Arkansas. Things had been pretty rough on us, but at least we were not a city. I heard no one has survived in any of those.”

    “We, in Altheimer are a tough mountain folk. We have plenty of wood and know how to hunt. Those of us without wood stoves either made ourselves some or moved in with people that did.”

    “Anyways, after a brutal winter, which not too many survived, things seemed to get better. I’m not sure how it started, but a word began to spread through the people of a man named David, who like in the bible, had slain the mighty Goliath.” Phillip and Alex shared a glance and he was sure they were both thinking the same thing.

    For many of us, there was nothing much to live for there in Altheimer, other than bad memories. I myself buried my wife that long winter. Our priest the Reverend Dells, started to organize our people. He wanted us to all make a holy pilgrimage to this place.  I’m a widowed man, without children. What did I have to loose? So I agreed to come along. In the end, people from all over the county got caught up in the fervor of faith. Faith that I now see was hollow and useless, against the true evils that lurk out in the world.”

    Alex and Phillip shared another look, this one less pleasant.

    “From the very start, we were assaulted by the true and very real forces of evil. Sometimes people would just be gone when we woke in the morning. Other times, we would have to fight off roving bands of satanic road warriors.”

    “How did you know there were satanic,” Z.T. asked?

    Eyeing the big man like he was not too sure Z.T. was not too far removed, he said. “Many bore the scars of the beast or had horrible powers not fit to mention. Before long, we got to the point where it would have been more dangerous to return than continue. We pressed on. Our original five hundred had dwindled to two hundred by the time we had made it through Texas. New Mexico cost us another sixty. We saw the first signs of safety when we reached Gallop and it was blissfully clear of the hand of Satan.”

    “Another hundred miles went by without a sign of evil and we knew we were close. Dells was still one of the survivors and spoke loudly on how this was proof that we were close to the holy one. Outside the Painted Desert, a problem of normal yet difficult proportions struck. Our school bus, which held our surviving women and children, broke down. We of course stopped the convoy. Our mechanics assured us that they would be able to fix her in a day or so, so we all bedded down, figuring that we’d be meeting the new holy one soon.”

    “How does it feel to be the brother of the holy one?” Phillip said, not being able to conceal his mirth.

    Raymond seemed uncertain as to whether to be angry about the interruption or impressed that he was in the same room as David’s brother, so he just continued. “It was that night that the true disaster struck, against which all the others pale.”

    “I was not on watch and was awakened by screaming. They were fierce and multiple. At first I thought an army must have been attacking. Then to my horror, I realized it was only one creature. But what a thing it was! Men shrieked like girls, loosing their minds instantly. I can only assume that perhaps my soul was already scarred enough, that I was able to withstand the blight with at least some of my mind still intact.”

    “What was it?” Z.T. whispered.

    “I’m still not really sure, but it seemed to be every sort of foul shape molded into one. Bat wings erupted from its humped back. Like the Devil, it had large cloven hoofs in the place of feet. No arms, instead it had a series of tentacles. Worse of all, were the glaring blood colored eyes, which sat atop its toadlike body. Eyes from the voids of space, from the places that even God does not delve.”

    A moment later, Raymond, who appeared not to be a soft man by any means, began to silently weep.

    “Sounds like some form of Tsathoggua.”

    “A what?” Z.T. asked.

    Answering slowly, he was more concerned with Phillip’s reaction than Z.T.s. “Two years a ago I would say it was a fanatical creation of Lovecraft or Robert E. Howard’s. But with all I have seen, who is to say how much of their works might have some basis of truth in this distorted reality, which we now find ourselves in?”

    Phillip opened his mouth to speak, but it snapped shut when Raymond’s cracking hollow voice filled the quiet truck.

                                               “They lumber through the night

                                                  With their elephantine tread;

                                                         I shudder in affright

                                                    As I cower under my bed.

                                                 They lift their colossal wings

                                                    On the high gable roofs

                                               Which tremble to the trample

                                                 of their mastodonic hoofs.”

    Shivering, Z.T. said, “damn, what the Hell was that? I am not liking this at all.”

    “I think I can answer that one,” Phillip said. “It is a quote from one of Robert E Howard’s poems.”

    “Lovely.”

    Raymond had collapsed into a stupor, finally both physically and emotionally spent. Whether the passage was something Raymond remembered, or a foul issue speaking through him, Alex had no way of knowing. Instead being a man of action, he set himself to the task ahead. Walking past Raymond to the door, he was pleased to see that Gob still waited outside. By the look of his ashen expression, he had perhaps overhead too much.

    “Gob, hey Gob! Wake up buddy. I need you to fetch Ember for me and only Ember. Whatever happens do not bring Drew. Make up some lie for needing her without mentioning my name.” With a nod the young man was off.

         Turning he saw Z.T. standing beside him. “Should I round up the troops?”

    Phillip was meeting his eye past the Leaguer’s head. “No, not this time old friend,” Alex said, camping his hand down on his massive shoulder.

    “What? I do not understand. This guy said that this thing took out over a hundred people.”

    “Indeed, so there is no need to loose more. If we cannot handle it, I doubt any of the others would be able to do more than get themselves killed.”

    “At least let me give you a driver or something.”

    “Agreed. I’ll take Bone and have him fetch Jack Primus. Now, if you would be kind enough to gather them for me and see that your men outfit Serpent. I fear that we must make haste if we’re to reach this area before nightfall, which I would certainly prefer.”

“What about this guy?” Phillip asked.

    “Keep him under guard and out of sight. I’ll figure out what to do with him when I get back.”

                                     Part II-----the saga continues----

Before they left the base, a fifth person had asked to join them. He was one of the new generations of A.N.L., having joined the group since their final battle with the Caradon and the Darcarre. His name was Hanner and was accompanying them for the sole reason that he had been trained with the use of Talon’s huge harpoon gun. Since the big Leaguer was busy in the south, Hanner was the second best. The kid could not have been over twenty-five. He had a light blonde mohawk, which seemed a bit thin. Combat boots, torn jeans, and one of Talon’s old shirts completed the punker look that would have been a natural on any city street just two years ago.

    Mounting the harpoon on the bed of Serpent had taken longer than he wished and he had watched with nervous tension, as the sun dipped towards the west. Now as they drove down the sand covered freeway, dusk was already beginning to settle over the land. Buildings sagged empty as things grayed.

    Beyond Holbrook, the world felt barren. It was as though he was walking on these lands before the first Human had ever set foot in the new world. This prairie would have looked the same. The undulating hills would have still met the rough canyons of rust colored stone. Others things, like the approaching petrified forest, reminded man how short his span on this world truly was and how much more had come before him.

    Who was to say if races like the Caradon came to his Earth in the distant past? Dinosaurs could have been bred for armies. Perhaps Humanity was just a failed experiment; a germ that got free and multiplied beyond their control.

    Shivering, he realized such thoughts were not helping. Instead he allowed himself to become part of the conversation as the cold hills rolled past.

    “So, what do we expect to find out here?” Bone asked.

    Bone was also a member of the Anti No-Where League, but was leaning farther into Alex’s camp when he openly agreed to join the Alex’s Team Yig. Another reason Alex liked him was because he was only a finger shy of Alex’s six foot eight. He had darker hair and a tanned complexion and looked more like a Celt than a punk.

    “Something whose ass I can kick,” Hanner yelled from the back.

    “No seriously,” the tall Leaguer asked. “What might we be facing?”

    “I’ll answer the first question first.”

    “Right now, we are looking for a caravan of sorts. I suppose we cannot expect any survivors, but one never knows. If these people came here for our help, I would not want to let them down.”

    “And the second question?” Jack asked while he played with a long double edged knife.

Jack Primus was the youngest of all of them and the most into fighting. He was also a member of Alex’s Team Yig and besides Drew was the team’s only other member. Like Alex, he had hazel eyes. Both he and Bone owed Alex their lives, for he had rescued them from a battle with the Darcarre gang that controlled Flagstaff, which had nearly cost them everything.

    “It sounded like some Lovecraftain monstrosity,” Phillip answered for him. The others fell silent.

    Sending Phillip a cross look, Alex broke in, “yeah, well the guy was half crazy too, so let’s just see what happens.”

    “Oh yeah, crazy, that dispels anything to do with Lovecraft,” Jack said sarcastically.

    “Oh shit, look out!” Phillip called out loudly. Slowing at once, Alex saw that the road was covered in trashed vehicles. Before him a Volkswagen bug lay on its side, with its roof torn off. Beyond that at least a score of other vehicles could be seen along both sides of the interstate. Some appeared to have crashed, while others might have been somehow torn or twisted.

    “Oh shoot,” Jack said.

    “Are you sure we brought enough people?” Bone asked.

    “I only brought us because I did not want a lot of people to get killed.”

    “But it’s okay for us to get killed?” Hanner whispered.

    ”Can it,” Alex ordered. Advancing slowly, he began to take them through the wreckage. They were all startled when a group of over a dozen ravens took to the air in front of Serpent.

    “What were they eating?” Jack asked.

    “You don’t want to know,” Phillip mumbled.

    Ahead, coyotes scattered, leaving a pair of mangled legs behind. Speaking low, Phillip said, “these bodies have been torn apart.”

    “Should we really be going through here?” Hanner asked, his bravo disappearing.

    “Keep a sharp eye,” was all Alex said. Beyond the rides was a sight, which made the others pale. A huge stack of crumpled forms glistened wetly under the raising moon. He could not be sure at first, but it looked more than anything else, like some giant thing had been eating Humans, like one might eat chicken wings. The larger bones had then been discarded, complete with chunks of clinging flesh, creating a pile the size of a small home.

    “This just keeps getting better and better,” Phillip said. Then Hanner screamed. “Shit kid, calm down.”

    “No, it is not that, not that. Something big, something big was moving against the sky.”

    The poor kid was terrified, but Alex and the others saw nothing as they scanned the never-ending darkness overhead.

    “Maybe we should leave,” Phillip said.

    Scrutinizing the pile, Alex said, “this is more than a hundred and forty people. This thing had been feasting, feasting on people coming to us for help.” Turning towards Phillip, he continued. “For all we know our messages to head towards us has reached these people. Warriors and families are trying to make it to us and this thing is...eating them. I’m going to kill it. The rest of you can go if you want, but I am staying.”

    Phillip laughed. ”Don’t be a tard. We would not let you face this thing alone. I think the real question is, are we safer in the truck than out?”

    “Out I think.”

    As one, the whole group hurried out of Serpent. “Someone should stay with the Harpoon,” Alex said.

    “Screw that,” Hanner said. “That is flying, whoever is higher, with be the first to go.”

    “Well, than I guess I’m screwed,” Phillip joked, which actually got Bone and Primus laughing.

    Alex could not help himself. “Okay, who wants to be bait?”

    Then despite the circumstances, they were all laughing, even Hanner. Soon seriousness replaced mirth, as the crew prepared themselves. Armor was tightened, while Alex put on his leather gloves. Most of them grabbed more gear from their ride. Then as one, they entered a small cluster of shadows created by a destroyed semi.

    It was good to see them all armed and armored. Alex was pleased by his choice in compatriots. Still, much of the choice was obvious. Jack and Bone were both his apprentices and like him were members of the strike force he had labeled Yig. Others called them team serpent or the snakes, but he did not care what they were called as long as they all made it back.

    For weapons, Alex favored the usual, his giant Knight’s sword and the Reckoning Shotgun that had once been owned by the Caradon Hellcavana. “All right everyone,” he began. “I’m not saying Hanner should stay up there or anything, but I think we should stay near Serpent. That harpoon could come in real useful tonight.”

    “Thank God,” Hanner mumbled.

    “Which one?” Phillip smirked.

    “Help me.” It was a long drawn out groan.

    The sound repeated itself, as the men looked at each other. “I’m so sure that is fake,” Hanner said, while his teeth started to clatter together.

    “I tend to agree,” Phillip said. “Oh, there is a huge stack of bodies over there, but one guy was not eaten.”

    “Even if he was alive, he is probably all messed up anyway,” Bone said, his face hidden in shadow.

    “You guys are sick,” Alex said, and then started to laugh.

    “Crawl on over here buddy, we have a beer for you,” Jack called out, but the groaning only grew louder. Soon it was joined by what appeared to be a young woman’s voice. This made the men feel uneasy.

    Running to the truck, Phillip returned with a six pack and handed each of them a beer.”

    “You know,” Bone said, holding up his beer, “thanks to you Phillip, the apocalypse is not that bad.”

    “You guys are crazy,” Hanner chastised. “We are about to be eaten by some giant monster and you guys are joking around.”

    “I’m glad you like our style,” Phillip said, sparking up.

    Passing a joint to Bone, who gladly took a hit, Phillip exhaled. Gray smoke lingered, scenting the night.

    Beneath them the ground shuttered. A hollow clopping sound followed. “What was that?” Hanner asked, his eyes darting.

    “Sounded like a horse,” Alex said.

    “Yeah, a five ton one,” Jack corrected.

    Staying on task, Alex asked, “how many harpoons do we have?”

    “Three.”

    “Is the gun loaded?”

    “Oh yeah.”

    “Good,” Alex said, as he drew the sword off his back. Striding forward, he placed the bare blade on the floor of his truck. Next to it went the Reckoning. Thick bolts attached the harpoon gun to a rotating pole, which in turn was bolted to the floor of the truck.  A stillness owned the air, yet the earth itself was vibrating. The bushes glowed in the fading light as if even they had been tainted with malice. What had happened to this place?

    “Hey Hanner, how hard would it be to take this off my truck?”

    “Not too hard,” the youth said walking a few steps closer. Behind him the other three men were finishing their beers. ”It packs quite a kick though.”

    It was at that moment that a massive tearing broke the stillness, ripping into the night, like a brace of colliding trains. With a colossal screech, the semi which sheltered Phillip, Jack, and Bone, was rended in half. Hanner turned and screamed, covering his face with his hands. The scream became a wail, as Hanner fell to his knees, gasping in terror.

    Alex’s stomach clenched, but he had seen enough of the horrors birthed in the dark voids of space to be able to keep his wits about him, although the sight of the thing alone was enough to snap the mind.

    It had a bent form, mixing toad and bat, yet  bigger than an elephant. Horrid flapping wings churned the air, creating clouds of black dust. Legs ended in satanically cloven hoofs. Worst of all were the long writhing tentacles, at least twenty strong.  They burst out of the center of its armless chest, already assaulting his stunned friends.

    His staunchest allies had been to a man, knocked off their feet. Bone faired the worst, being pinned under heavy sheets of wreckage. Jack had been thrown farther away and was attempting to get to his feet. Phillip became the first victim of the creature’s tentacles, which were as thick as a light pole. Several had wrapped themselves around his friend’s legs, causing him to cry out in pain. Drawing his cutlass, Phillip slashed down on one of them. Another tentacle lashed out, dashing the weapon from his hand.

    “Try not to look at it Jack,” Alex yelled, as he snatched up his shotgun. He sent both barrels at the beast without bothering to watch their effect, for he was already leaping into the back of the truck. Spinning the harpoon, he somehow fired the gun, but the first bolt went harmlessly over the things mangled, amphibian head.

    He cursed while frantically grabbing for a second one. “Hanner! Get your ass over here.” His words seemed to shake the man out of daze, at least enough to get him to flee to the truck. Bone was struggling to free himself before the tentacles reached him too. Philip was worse off, he had been lifted off his feet, and was being brought up to the thing’s putrid fanged lined, toadish mouth.

    Jack was on his feet. He swung at the lashing tentacles with an axe. The lad had a good swing and the Tsathogguain spawn bellowed, like a whale thrown off a cliff when it lost a tentacle. Jack moved in to help Phillip, but would be lucky to be able to keep himself alive. Almost at once, Primus was knocked off his feet, by a whipping appendage. Bone brought up a shotgun, but the blast had little effect on the thing.

    “Damn it,” Alex cursed, as he fumbled with the harpoon.

    “Turn it to the side.” Hanner managed to gasp out. “Wait, we’ve got to get out of here! We can’t stop something like that.”

    “Either we all go, or none of us go.” Alex snarled through gritted teeth, as the harpoon was shot home. Phillip was blocking his target and he was forced to shoot at one of the loathsome beast’s legs.  Flying true, the harpoon lanced the elephantine leg with a wet thud.

         This stunned the creature. Phillip tossed a grenade into its open mouth. It bellowed throwing Phillip from him violently. The Stalwart twirled through the air, until a Ryder truck stopped his flight. Hitting the side, he toppled to the ground, lying limp. Jack did not fare any better and was tossed into Serpent. His back had hit first and he fell forward with a broken moan.

    Now however, it was Bone who was in trouble, for the giant thing was advancing on his pinned form.

    “Hanner, tie off the last harpoon,” he ordered.

    “What are you-“

    “Never mind, just do it!”

    The beast was moving in for the kill. A blast from the Reckoning sent brackish blood flying as it blew through half a tentacle. Bone was helpless. The horror of the advancing beast owned him.

    “Done!” Hanner yelled.

    “Grab Jack and get over to Phillip.” He said while loading the last harpoon. “If I am not back in five minutes, get your asses out of here.” Hanner was wide eyed with terror, but as long as he was being ordered away from the thing, he was able to do so.

    Alex waited until Jack had been dragged away from the truck. Bone could not help but scream, as the Tsathoggua reached for his helpless form.

    Trailing the climber’s rope as it went, the harpoon struck home, hitting the side of the horror’s bloated neck. It thundered, while tentacles thrashed madly.  Leaping from the bed, Alex dashed into the driver’s seat. Without wasting a second, he slammed on the gas. Serpent roared away from the scene as the rope grew taunt. It felt as though the other end was tied to a building when the line had finished playing out. Looking back, he saw that both the rope and the harpoon still held, and despite its mass, Alex was dragging it away from his trapped comrade.

    That was when the creature took flight. Tugging on the rope, he soon wondered who had caught whom. Serpent jerked. Another jerk, jarring him as two tires momentarily lifted from the road. The thing was trying to gain on him. Alex floored it.

    Soon he was ripping down I-40, trailing an undulating kite from Hell.

    The truck jerked again. Looking back he saw that the Lovecraftain beast was oozing down the rope towards him. Before him was a billboard, supported by a single steel pole. It spoke of some former restaurant located on the edge of the Painted Desert. The thing was only five yards from grabbing his bumper. Giving the engine all it had, he plowed off the highway, heading towards the billboard. The Tsathoggua made some high pitch wail and attempted to let go, but Serpent was already speeding under the sign. The rope went taunt, pulling the foul beast behind him until the impact nearly tore Alex from his seat and it did tear the harpoon gun off the back of his truck. 

    Throwing the truck into a one-eighty as quickly and he could, Alex assessed the damage. He need not have bothered. The thing was a putrid steaming mess. Broken appendages flopped like dying snakes. He burned it with five gallons of precious gasoline just to be sure.

    His four allies walked up on him, as he began to toss old tumbleweeds onto the growing blaze. They all helped him in silence, except for Hanner. The man walked in a daze. Whatever motivation fear had lent him during the battle was gone. All that remained was shattered and broken. Alex had seen this type of thing before. Many recovered to some level of functioning. Others did not.

    As they retrieved the damaged harpoon gun, Alex heard the young man mumbling to himself.

Behind the Veil, what gulfs of Time and Space

What blinking, moving things to blast the sight

I shrink before a vague colossal Face

Born in the mad immensities of Night.

 

    They sat alone, outlasting both Bone and Jack. Phillip poured him a rich Merlot, even though a pale ale filled his fist. Alex favored him with a wane smile while leaned back. The celebration, if you could call in that, had been marred by Hanner’s hysterics. These had cleared out most of the bar. Their moody drinking had gotten rid of the rest.

    Gutting candles did little to illuminate the room. His friend’s face was covered in shadows and he spoke out of the darkness. The candles cast a dim jerking light over the stark walls, as Phillip moved out from behind the bar. “You never did tell me your theory about that thing.”

    “I figure it is one of two alternatives. Either it is some nasty the Caradons brought here, which has grown hungry. Or that polluted darkened place, the area that the Caradon lords drained and Darkened. It could be causing a gate. A gate, which dark beings can pass through.”

    “Perhaps it was here all along and it took our current state of anarchy, to allow it to feel safe enough to roam  among us.”

    “That could be. Yig knows what dark foul things are malingering in the quiet lonely places of the Earth.”

    “What if it was sent, not to get us, but to stop others from reaching us?” Phillip asked, finally sitting down?

    “I have thought of that too. It also could have hoped to feed on these travelers until it grew strong enough to take us on.” He took a sip of wine. The room fell into such a silence that one could hear the sizzling of the   candles.

    “Alex, I am going to go.”

    “Wait, what do you mean?”

   

     He lifted his head just enough for Alex to see the glow of his eyes from under the brim of his hat. “I’m leaving. Not forever, but Alex, we have no idea what is out there. Whole cities, camps of refugees, or even what types of monsters might be lurking around. For all we know, these offworld Caradon scum are still building an army against us somewhere.”

    Alex sighed. He already knew this was something he could not talk Phillip out of. “Are you going alone?”

    “Almost, I’ll just be taking Ann with me.” Reaching out, he clasped Alex’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, I taught Casper how to brew the beer. You guys should be okay until I get back.”

    “I’m not worried about the beer, I’m worried about you and ah Hell I’m worried about me being here without your help.”

    “You don’t need my help, David and Devo will be back soon.”

    “But what about you? What if you have to fight something like we came across today and you were on your own?”

    “I might just have to run away. I don’t know. What I do know is I am getting better at discovering that my path is not a rooted one. Besides this team needs someone out there. Just think of me as a scout,” Phillip said, trying to smile. Alex just nodded.

    “I won’t be gone forever. I’ll try to lay as low as I can, while we figure out what is going on beyond these desert wastes. Come on man, I’ll have a fine warrior woman guarding my back too.”

    Alex did not have the heart to bring up what had happened to the last woman who had tried to protect Phillip. With a heavy heart, he embraced his friend in what he hoped would not be a farewell hug. Ann had been waiting for him and only ninety minutes later they were pulling out of the base in an old ford pickup, leaving just before sunup.

    Alex watched his friend go with a sinking feeling clutching his heart. Drew joined him as the sun began to slowly rise. He put his arm around her as his friend disappeared into the rising sun. The Crater was his responsibility now. Success or failure, it would be up to him to see them through. His thoughts lingered on the Earth and the Allfather snake of Yig. He was here to protect this Earth, and as the sun illuminated the rain soaked desert, he could not think of a better reason to live.

Michael D. Griffiths

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Ruins - The final part of The Lurking Horror Trilogy

By Michael D. Griffiths

     Dust.

     The world had turned to dust. So much dust that they had lost the road. Tying a rag over his mouth, Phillip could not help but wonder how someone could lose a road.

     Laughing silently, he figured that if anyone could pull it off it would be him. Phillip was often called the man in brown, which matched his last name of Brownhurst. From his sorrel colored fedora, to his aged leather overcoat; mixtures of browns and tans covered his body. This included his rather overgrown hair and his one remaining eye.

    Returning to his truck, he climbed in without saying a word.

     “So,” Ann prompted.

    “It is like a Steinbeck nightmare out there.”

    “What around the road Phillip?” Ann’s beautiful face was creased with concern. 

    They had been through a lot over the last month and most of it had been bad. Ann had held up like the marvel she was, never complaining, always helpful,even when their lives had been awful.  Their plan to explore the post invasion world had been a good one and all of the leaders of Barricade had supported it.

     Yes, the humans had beaten back the off world Caradon and their Xemmoni servants, but the  invasion had left the world in ruins and the isolated heroes of Barricade had no clue as to what was going on in the rest of the country.

    For some reason, which was escaping him now, Phillip had volunteered to find out. Things had not started off too badly. The warmer southwest had survivors, both Human and Xemmoni. They had befriended the former and exterminated the latter ,when they could. Often it was hard to tell the difference and he could not blame people for being paranoid and trigger-happy. They usually simply fled from random snipers and the like, figuring that they could be Human. Still, even if they were, they might also be too far gone to be the type of people that they would invite to head back to the crater. 

    In the beginning Ann had kept a journal of the people she had sent back,but after such things grew more rare, the journal was put away.  Once they had left the southwest things got worse, much worse. The people became fewer, perhaps hiding in the hills, perhaps just gone. Anything they found moving had been evil. By the time they got through Texas, it was not hard to see why people were avoiding cities or even towns, for they had become death traps.

     Xemmoni bands both, large and small, hunted with complete freedom. As the Human race fell in numbers, the Darkened ones need for their Baal only increased. Since draining the life-force from Humans was their preferred method of extracting their precious Baal, Phillip could not avoid noticing that like his race had done to so many animals, the Xemmoni were now making Humans an endangered species.

    Ann was the first one to suggest that they go back. He wanted to agree,but it seemed like they had hardly begun. It was just so hard for him to believe that so much was gone, that just one extreme winter had wiped out so many.  It was starting to get a bit cold  as they headed into October,but it was still hard to imagine what things must have been like in the colder climbs. They saw the evidence of storms of biblical proportions. Cars had been thrown through the second stories of houses, while in other places whole cities had been leveled.

    Still every so often, they found signs of normal folk. They were still out there. Who could blame them for avoiding the towns, which were filled with Xemmoni still trying to live off the corpse of the old world and them?

     Returning to Ann’s question, he said, “I’m not sure, I can’t tell where it is.”

     “Damn it Phillip,” was all she said, as she buried her face into her hands. Ann, who had been so strong, had finally reached her end point.

     Maybe they should head back? Then they heard the howling. Their eyes met and hers were wide with terror. “Those couldn’t be Embryo hounds could they?”

     “I still can’t tell,” he said. “I think we have better keep moving.”

     “But where? Everything is so flat... there is no place to hide from them.We never should have come here.”

     “I would tend to agree, but luck could guide our hand, nothing could be worse than this anyway.” Of course that would turn out to be wrong. Driving through rutted dead cornfields during a dust storm, turned out to be no fun at all. For a moment he thought they had lost the hounds,but then he heard them again. Whatever they were, they were holding back, which made him think that they had been ordered to wait for their master.

     “Phillip stop, stop!” Ann’s two eyes proved keener than his one and he put on the breaks without knowing why.

    It was a good thing too, for right as the truck stopped, he saw a wide river crossing their path.

    “What now,” Ann asked, like he was not expecting him to have an answer.

      Behind him the baying of the canines was becoming louder, he had heard it enough to know that they were Embryo Hounds. Damn, he thought most of those were gone. Did this mean that some sort of crazy Caradon master lurked out there? “Gather your things.”

     “What do you mean?”

     “Gather the things that you really need and make sure you bring the blankets.”

    The hounds were getting closer. The master must have arrived. Ann knew enough not to question him and began to gather their prize gear. While she did that, he took up some rope and began to shove out a stack of long large logs, which he had laying in the bed of the truck. He had no real plan for the logs and had figured they would make good firewood in these barren plains, but was glad he had brought them along now.

    Reaching the riverbed, he began arranging them in the shape of a raft. As soon as that was done, he began to snake the rope through the logs. Ann appeared with her first armful of goods as the hounds began to draw near. He knew how fast they moved. They would not have much time.

    After her second armful, he made Ann start on the other side.

    “Keepgoing,” he said, “I have an idea.” Rushing back to the truck, he hopped into the cab. With a whirl of thick dust, he spun the truck away from the river and pointed it at the approaching hounds. He could not see them through the darkening storm,but could hear them fine. He tore the mask off his face and stuffed it into the gas tank. After spilling a Jerry can of gas over the rag and then the bed of the truck, he grabbed his toolbox and ran to the front. The toolbox went on the execrator. Next the rag was lit and along with it half the side of the truck.

     Massive forms appeared through the mists now. They were Embryo hounds all right. Each one of the slavering hounds was the size of a pony and four times as fast. With a yelp, he pulled the truck out of park, nearly losing his arm in the process. The flaming truck roared at the sprinting pack.

    Not waiting to see the results, he turned and raced back to the raft. “Go, go!”

    “It isn't done.”

     “It doesn't matter, go!” Grabbing the edge of the raft, he pushed it into the river. Ann quickly helped him. The current was just starting to take them when his truck exploded. They heard cries of pain and death. A deep chested cursing followed as the current caught them rushing them downstream.

* * *

    Using only their hands they were somehow able to cross the raging river. On the other side, they each collapsed in the mud. Phillip felt like he coule lay there for a week, but he was able to rouse himself enough to empty the raft of the few remaining possessions which had not been washed away. Once this was done, he launched the raft back into the stream, for he figured that any type of misdirection had to be a good thing. 

    Returning to Ann, he helped her to her feet. Her stunning oval face looked up at him, filled with hope, as if it would be impossible for him to let her down.

     “People usually like to live near rivers,” he said through chattering teeth. “We need to find a house.”

     Ann only nodded and fell in step behind him, as though she was working through an unknown penance. Marshy fields thick with tall knife-like olive grass quickly gave way to barren dead farmlands. The fields were more exposed, but the ease in which they could be passed made up for this. The dust was once again alive, clinging to their wet bodies, until they felt encased in mud.

    Again it was Ann’s sharper eyes that spied the house first. It loomed ahead in the darkness, across the field from the river. She pointed, he nodded and they hurried towards the structure.

     Most of their weapons had just been lost. He was down to just his Desert Eagle and cutlass. After their dunking, he figured that cold steel would be more reliable and he drew his sword as they neared the lonely farmhouse.

    Dust continued to rail against them while they approached the two-storyhouse, which appeared as dead as the rest of the world. No lights burned  and he doubted the chimney had seen fire since before the last war. Dark windows stared at them in reproach, as if blaming them for being alive when everything else had died.  

    Reaching the back door, he found it locked. He smashed through the window above the doorknob. It was a simple matter to reach in and unlock the door and they were soon inside, finally away from the driving endless dust.

    The place was mercilessly dark, yet he was able to see that he stood before a dust-ridden table locked in the center of a  dining room. To their left was a kitchen, covered with an uneven mound. Unable to identify it at first,   he was finally ableto determine that it was  piles of dirty dishes, enough dishes for twenty households.  He thought this strange. As did Ann, for she whispered, “do people still live here?”

    A shotgun cocked in the darkness. “Damn right we do.” the voice, sounding like sandpaper being dragged over a rock, had an angry threatening edge to it, “Now after you drop yer sword, I want each of you to step into the livingroom real slow.” Phillip did not move at first, and the voice hurried to add. “Do it now punk or I will shoot the girl first.”

    The sword clattered to the floor, but Phillip felt as if he had learned useful information, for what type of man would threaten to shoot an unarmed woman?  Making sure he stood in front of Ann, he began to move cautiously  towards the unseen voice.

    Reaching a doorway, he could now see some sort of dim illumination coming through it from a far room, but there was no sign of the gunman. Phillip moved slowly, as he entered a room with an oversized wood stove. Pain thundered in the back of his head, as a blow forced him to his knees. Had his hat not slightly deflected the blow, he could have lost consciousness. Feigning a greater injury, Phillip allowed himself to fall onto his hands and knees. It was not hard to fake a moan, for his head was ringing and white dots danced over his vision.

     “That is for my window.”

     “Oh my Goddess, Phillip,” Ann cried out.

    Hoping that this had distracted the man, Phillip reached into his jacket and brought his hand up. It was filled with a hypodermic needle, containing enough morphine to put a room of weightlifters into the realm of happy-joy. As soon as the needle found flesh, he emptied the thing. The man mumbled something and the gun went off, but Phillip had already been moving , pushing the gun away.

    The blow was just enough to tip the barrel over his body and the blast tore a huge hole in an old sofa-- instead of either himself or Ann. Seconds later the man collapsed to the floor in an intoxicated stupor.

    Phillip stood up rubbing the back of his head and Ann rushed into his arms. She remained silent, but pressed her  face against his chest, all the while hugging him fiercely.

     Hugging her back, he stroked  her hair gently. “Its okay honey, I filled this guy’s body with enough happy juice to drop half a football team.” Before them, another doorway slowly outlined against  faint illumination.

     “Ter, be ladies and mphhathin,” the man beneath them suddenly sang,which caused them each to jump. Moving gingerly,Phillip retrieved the shotgun and passed it over to Ann.  Looking around the room, he found it to be a cluttered mess. He wanted rope, but settled on a few old flannel shirts, which he began to tear into strips as silently as he could.

     “Olden,” a female’s voice called out. “Is everything alright out there?”

     Phillip kicked the drunken man and he started singing again. “Last of the ladies, was into ruwah.”

     Letting Ann cover him, he removed two large knives from the man’s belt and then tied him up with the strips of cloth. It would not hold a determined man long, but should be enough to keep the sedated man secure. He was about to retrieve his cutlass, when the sounds of something moving reached his ears.

    “Olden?”

    Taking up one of the daggers Phillip moved towards the doorway. He reached it only a moment before a woman poked her head into the room,illuminating it with a taper.

    She saw Ann first and gasped. Phillip grabbed her by the front of her tattered dress and dragged her into the room, pressing the blade of his knife to her throat.

     “Now, I usually don’t like to threaten women and we are actually try to help  people, but so far you folks have not been too friendly.”

    “Where is Olden? What have you done to him?” she cried out in  panic.

     “Calm done lady,” Phillip said, holding her still. “He is fine, I just got him a little drunk is all.”

     “Drunk so fast, but that is-"

     “Mommy, mommy,” a younger voice was crying out. Moving like a wispy ghost in a white dress, a girl who could not have been older than ten, rushed into the hallway before them. “Who are you? Leave my mommy alone.”

     It was getting to be too much for Phillip and he risked releasing the woman.

     The girl ran into her mother’s arms. She hugged her briefly, but quickly returned her attentions to Phillip. “Are you sure he is okay?”

     “Oh no, have they hurt grandpa?”

     “You just hush now,” she scolded, then looked back up at Phillip,holding her candle high above their faces. “Who are you people? Are there only two of you?”

     Taking a deep breath Phillip took a step back. “Yes, there are just the two of us. How many are you?”

     “Just what you see,” She said, mirroring him, taking a step back,moving towards the room the two had just emerged from.

    “Alright, I am sorry we got off on the wrong foot,” he said, extending his hand. “I am Phillip and this is Ann, we were just seeking shelter from the storm. It isn’t too common to actually find a house which still has its occupants these days. We should know too, we have been to enough of them.  Look I am sorry about your dad, but he did hit me first.”

    “I thought you said he was drunk?” She was backing up another foot. The movement caused the candle to flicker, sending shadows jerking across the walls of the narrow corridor.

    Philip could now see  the room the females had arrived from, while to his right was the front door and to his left was the staircase that most likely led to the second floor.

     Ann was moving in to cover him, although he could tell she had relaxed her pose.

     “He is just drunk and will be okay. Can we sit and talk? Ann and I are scouts from a safe place and are trying to help people.”

    The woman laughed unexpectedly. It was a high-pitched cracked sound,which threatened to plunge into hysteria. “I think it is a little too late for much saving now.”

    Sharing a troubled glance with Ann, he went on. “Well, maybe we can help anyway. Ann why don’t you go back into that room with them and I’ll follow and bring Olden  with.”

    Ann looked as though she did not favor the idea of entering the strange room alone.  Without lowering her gun, she motioned to the others to precede her. The pale  young girl peered at Philip over her shoulder. Eyes-- large, unblinking and  emotionless-- gazed at him and he shivered despite himself.

     Peeking into the room before leaving Ann alone, he saw that there seemed to be no surprise occupants. A piano masked the far wall. The piles of papers and junk covering it were a silent testament to its lack of use. Sofas and other ratty furniture clung to the filthy floor. The wide windows had all been covered in black cloth. There was an old brick fireplace in this room, but was also stone dead.

    The mother and daughter had taken a seat on the center sofa and were silently staring at Ann while she moved around the room, lighting more candles.

    Moving back into the other room, he grasped Olden by his armpits and dragged him into the room now occupied by the others.

    With a slight gasp,the woman hurried to her father’s side. “Oh lord, is he okay? Daddy,daddy. What did you do to him? Can’t we untie him? He can’t hurt anyone now.”

     “Lady listen, why don’t we just take a deep breath and chill for a minute. You haven’t even told me your name and the giant lump I have on the back of my head tells me that your dad has no problem hurting people if he sets his mind to it.”

    She looked like she was going to argue, but then changed her mind. Silently joining her daughter on the matted sofa, she turned to him saying, “If I tell you my name, will you untie him?”

     “Listen,” Ann said, speaking up for the first time. “I know this is your house, but your father had a shotgun pointed at my man’s head, so maybe we should decide when he is untied...okay.”

    Ignoring Ann the woman turned to Phillip and said, “I am Vera and this is my daughter Nancy. We have been hiding here since the Caradon attacked, surviving any way we can and besides that, there is not much to tell.”

    “What happened to the others around here?”

     “Some fled, others died. Most starved in their houses waiting for help,which never came.”

     “Can we light a fire?” Ann asked.

     “No fires,” she snapped, then calmer. “They attract the Caradon... and besides we are long out of wood.”

     After he had given the rest of the house a quick once over,Phillip whispered, “I’ll take the first watch.” Then louder he added,“Why don’t all of you get some sleep, I’ll stay up and keep an eye on things till sun up.”

    Looking uncertain, Ann still took his advice and as soon as she had made a little cot of blankets, she found sleep despite of her unsettling surroundings.

    Vera and Nancy made no move to join her.  Phillip kept busy, hanging a few things up to dry, then cleaning his pistol. Still Vera and Nancy made no effort to bed down. Each time he looked their way, he would find them staring at him. Soon he stopped looking.

   Not to long there after Nancy moved to lay her head on her mothers lap.Vera began to hum a quiet tune while gently caressing Nancy’s hair. The tune was strange and Philip sat  for a moment and listened. It had a soothing rhythm, which made him think about his own mother. He remembered how she had often sung him to sleep. A heavy cozy feeling enveloped him as he remembered those times. He felt safe and sleepy. Soon he felt nothing...like Ann, sleep had claimed him.

* * *

     Pain jarred him awake.  At first he thought that it might have been Ann trying to snap him out of a nightmare, but he was not that lucky. Looming above him were two men of sinister visage.

    Directly over him stood a gaunt man dressed mostly in black with hair to match. A face lined with dry, peeling wrinkles glared at him. Midnight blue rings sagged under his red eyes and his gray mouth was twisted and angry. He held a sharp bladed axe, which was already pricking the flesh under his chin. Darting eyes, dared to look towards Ann.

     Another smaller man, dressed ina deer hunter’s jacket, had a boot pressed on Ann stomach, and the barrel of a  rifle jammed into her neck.  “You gonna keep this one Carver?” The smaller man asked, his grin showing a collection of bent teeth. “If I were you I would, she is awful pretty.”

    “Shut the hell up Nathan and just watch the girl. Vera have you woken up that useless old man yet?”

    “He won’t do nothing more than groan. They said they drugged him up on something.” Her reply was followed by a loud slap, which got Olden singing again. 

    “Well jus' shut him up den!” Turning his attention back to Phillip, he bared his teeth. “So let me get this straight, you break into our house,threaten my family. Beat up and then drug my pop. Finally you kidnap my sister and her little girl and after all this is over, you think you can jus' make yerself at home?”

    Speaking as calmly as he could, Phillip said, “We meant no one any harm. We have been into so many houses that were empty, we had no idea we would find one which still had people. I am sorry about your father, but he is unharmed and will be okay in a few hours.”

    “Why did you come in here in the first place? Were you trying to steal from us?”

    Phillip was hoping that he would ask that. He wanted to be able to talk  through this, but there was something truly wrong here. He could feel it in his gut. Something about this family was off; he just hoped he might live long enough to find out what it was.

     Talking was difficult with the point of an axe blade digging into his neck, but he managed to keep his building fear out of his voice. “Wewere being chased by the Caradon, we lost them when we crossed the river, but the trip left us freezing. We only came in here to warm up.”

    Laughing, Nathan said, “Boy, did you ever pick the wrong place.” 

    Carver’s eyes grew wide, filled with anger and hate. “What?” he screamed while slapping Phillip across the temple with his free hand.“You brought Agamon to our door? Months of care and hiding, wasted because two losers have somehow lived long enough to bring doom down upon us. A curse on the Gods. Why does bad luck follow me like the plague?”

     "Perhaps we can fight him together. I have battled these type before.”

    It was Carver’s turn to laugh. “Fight him, are you mad? The man still has fifty hounds. They would tear us apart before we even saw Agamon.”

    “After yesterday, he has a few less.” He wanted to keep them  talking, so their attentions would not return to Ann... he also needed time to think.

    “Shut yer mouth.” Carver said. It was more of a knee jerk statement,than conscious thought. “Pa, still won’t wake up.”

    “Aler you, shut the hell up. I need to think.” Looking at Ann for amoment, he said, “I know what I am going to do with you. Finding a girl as pretty as you is the only good thing to come out of this."

    Phillip tensed and immediately Carver’s attention shifted back to him. “It's you that I’m not sure about, but I think an idea is coming to me.”

    That was when they first heard the howling. Everyone froze.

    “Oh damn,”Nathan wined. “It sounds like they made it to this side of the river.”

    “That just means we need to speed up the plan. Vera come with me and grab that shotgun.”

     “Please,” Phillip nearly begged. “Working together, we can take those hounds out, then you’ll never have to worry about them again.”

    “Yer a fool and wasting yer breath. Now come along quiet, or I swearI’ll have Nathan put and bullet in her.”       Phillip let Carver push him towards the backdoor where they had originally entered the house. Vera followed him with the shotgun pointed at his back.

     Looking back he saw that Carver had his  Desert Eagle and he felt the cold barrel as Carver jammed it into his back. Reaching the door, Philip turned around in time to see Carver stuff his pistol into his belt. He grabbed Phillip’s hand, as the edge of his axecame up under his chin.

    Outside the howls of the hounds were growing louder.  “Alright, now you listen up hotshot. Those hounds have yer scent, so they will be chasing after you. I’ll make a deal with yah. If you lead them away from us and live to tell the tale, I’ll let you have yer lady back. If you don’t run, I’ll kill her before the hounds get here. Sound fair?”

    Before Phillip could even think to answer,  Carver turned Phillip’s hand palm up, and  sliced it open with the blade of his axe. “That is just to make sure they sense you, now get.”

    Vera  flung open the door and with  a mighty shove from Carver, sent Philip sprawling into the dirt. The door slammed behind him as he heard  the baying of the hounds coming dangerously close. His mind was a wash with conflicting emotions. Part of him, just wanted to kick in the door, but then they might hurt Ann.           The last thing he needed to do was start a battle with two groups of villains. 

    Trying to give himself time to think, he began to jog away from the hounds, but  instead of continuing, he ducked around the corner of the house. There was one window on this side, nearly ten feetover his head. However, he did notice a second small window near his  feet.   Without a moments delay he kicked in the lower windw  and  began to squirm into the cellar. A shard of glass cut into his elbow, but he did not let this give him pause as his feet had landed on the sandy cellar floor.

    A foul stench hit him as once, nearly making him gag. It was worse than anything he had experienced and reminded him of rotting meat left to bake in the sun. As he began to fish for his zippo,a building dread began to seep into his bones. Struggling to maintain control, he continued to search for his light. Above him Phillip heard shouting and the voice of a female crying out. Ann must have made a move and was now paying for it. At last his hand landed on his lighter and he flicked it to life.

    Standing up, a sliver of luck found him, for he spied an old gas lantern. This he lit at once and almost wished he had not. Directly beside him was one of the most disgusting things he had ever seen. A chaotic pile of half eaten men was mixed with disgarded human bones.  Tearing his eyes away from the horror, he began moving over to some work benches he could just make out in the gloom. The stench was almost paralyzing and his movement was disturbing  the thick dust.

    Phillip pushed on, until he came to a work bench that had been transformed into a butcher’s table. The table was stained with both fresh and ancient blood, but was also covered with a half dozen weapons. These had all been used for sinister purpose. Choosing a large axe, he made his way to the stairs. Feeling better with his hands filled with weapon, he set his jaw and prepared himself to finish this.

     Whatever these People  were,he would see that they did not make it to another sunset. Even if the Caradon claimed him in the end, he would see to it that these fiends fell first. The door was locked. Moving away from the handle, he waited for a particularly loud chorus of howling, then struck out with  the axe. The door flew open with a loud bang.

    Phillip began to move into the kitchen. There was some shouting, and then almost at once dishes began to shatter as Carver used Phillip’s own pistol to spray the room with bullets. Phillip was forced to retreat into the stairwell again, which had cement walls that were thick enough to stop the bullets.

    Carver rushed in, firing as he came, but Phillip knew something Carver did not and that was the size of his gun’s clip. It went empty right as the madman reached him.

     Taking a big step forward, Phillip thrust his bleeding hand before him,while yelling, “You want my blood scum bag, well here you go!”  The movement caused a thin arc of blood to spray Carver in the face. This startled the killer and Phillip grabbed him. Using the man’s own momentum, Phillip swung his body in an arc, which sent him flying through the open doorway. Hearing him screaming as he tumbled down those dark stairs, was a beautiful sound to Philip. He was just pushing a chair under the handle when a bullet hit the wall only  inches from his head, making dust fly.  Catching a glimpse of Nathan, as he dived behind the counter, Phillip realized that Carver still had his gun.

     Nathan began to shout. “Carver, Carver. What happened? Where are you? Them hounds are almost here.”        “All the more reason to work together, or we are all dead,” Phillip called out.

    “Shutup you,” Nathan cried and then began to fire into the counter.

     Phillip had enough of these freaks, if they did not kill him, they were going to get them all killed when those Embryo Hounds hit. Looking around the sticky floor he found  a long butcher knife in the center of a pile of fingers and bones. He scrambled for it as splintered wood flew around his ears.  Not knowing what else to do, Phillip let out a fake groan.  Now there was a banging on the door.

     “Hold on Carver, I think I got him.Maybe we can throw his body to the hounds and they will leave us be.” In his haste to release his ally, Nathan hardly looked his way, which was a fatal mistake.

     With a quick slice from behind; Phillip opened his throat, giving him an angry red smile.  Snatching up his axe, after he had thrust the knife through his belt,Phillip rushed towards Ann. He did not make it far before Vera came around the corner, with the shotgun pointed at his face.

    “What the Hell have you done with my husband? Nathan, Nathan, where are you?  You son of a -“ her curse was interrupted by the sound of a hound crashing through the front window. She turned, but not quickly enough.The beast caught her by the neck decapitating her in seconds.

    Phillip was already moving. Like an executioner, he brought the axe down into the center of the thing’s head. Bloody fangs froze in mid bite and the hound toppled over, a snarl on its dead face.  A second hound was dispatched in mid leap with a hurled axe, but it cost him his weapon. A hasitifly grabbed shotgun, took out a third. 

    “Ann,” he screamed, as he rushed towards her, firing the gun randomly into the rabid pack. Slamming the door shut behind him as he entered to room,  pleased to see it still free of hounds. Instead, he found  an unconscious and bound Ann laying on the floor with a knife pressed to her throat. The ghostly daughter held the knife in place.

    Behind him the door was already splintering. He only had seconds. “Little girl if you wish to live, we need to work together.”

    The girl laughed, an eerie chilling noise, which sent icy spiders running up his spine. The girl drew her arm back to slice Ann’s throat. Wthout thinking her tore the blooded butcher knife from his belt and tossed it point first. It took the girl in the center of her forehead, piercing her skull. With a confused expression, she stumbled back and the weapon tumbled out of her fingers.

     Taking up the discarded dagger, Phillip began to cut Ann’s bounds. At the same time, he gently shook her.

    Eyes flashed open. “Oh God, are we still alive?”

    “Not for long-“

      “Phillip look out!” she suddenly screamed.

    He had been expecting a hound, but certainly not the girl to be stabbing at him, with the very knife he had used to pierce her skull. He tried to move back, but the blade still caught him, tearing through his trenchcoat and into the flesh underneath.

     “You little bitch,” Ann yelled and kicked the girl in the face. It was only then, that Phillip noticed that her wound was not bleeding. The girl had already been dead! Behind him the door cracked loudly.

    “Take care of Polly Pockets,” he shouted, as he turned. The shotgun took out the first two hounds, but then only a dry click answered the next  pull of the trigger. Damn!  How was he going to get out of this one, he was thinking, as his eyes rested on his cutlass? He picked it up in his left hand, while his right readied the girl’s knife.  With an explosion of splintered wood, two hounds came charging in.

     Using years of practice, the dagger took one of the robotic beasts in the eye,while his cutlass laid open the second with a spray of sparks. More were coming when Ann tossed the girl into their midst.

    One snapped off her forearm and the girl stared at her stump in awe for a moment, then the rest began to tear her apart. Ann found a pistol somewhere and began to unload on the rending pack. She had bought him a few seconds, but he was still at a loss as to what to do with them. Then he saw the fireplace. There was no wood stove and the brick chimney looked quite wide. “Ann up the fireplace now!”

    A lesser woman might havebeen confused, but tossing her empty pistol away, Ann flew to the fireplace and began to climb up and was quickly devoured by the darkshaft. The hounds had finished with the girl, but Phillip had another meal for them and shoved the limp form of Olden at them. He was already screaming, before Phillip had even started to climb.

    Phillip was forced to leave his cutlass and now weaponless, began to climb after Ann. Decades of soot and ash stung him, making it hard to breath. Below him the first hound’s head peeked up, but for once their massive size worked against them, and he made it past the reach of their jaws.  The baying and snarling continued as the hounds tore the house apart.

     “Phillip it narrows near the top. I can’t get through.”

    “Then we will have to stay here.”

     “For how long?” “Until they leave, now come on, let’s try to use my leatherman to take out some of these bricks so we will have a place to rest our feet.”

* * *

It seemed as though they would never leave. Hours passed as their muscles begged for a release that would not come. Philip  did not think he was going to make it, since he had no weapon left and knew in such a state he would be lucky to take out one hound.  If anything Ann faired worse, for she was still dazed from a blow to the head. Whatever came next, he would be facing it weaponless and would only be able to use his wits to survive.

     “I think they are leaving,” Ann whispered.

    Silently agreeing, he held his finger to his lips as the sounds of shattering glass echoed up the chimney. He waited another ten minutes then finally began to descend.  The hounds had torn to place up pretty good, furniture was  smashed and the sofas were nothing but piles of torn wood and stuffing.

    “This is strange,” Phillip said, as he picked up his cutlass. “This whole place is completely trashed, but my sword barely has a scratch on it.”

    Grabbing up the shotgun, Ann said, “Yeah, this shotgun does not seem to be damaged either.”

    A deep voice sounded.  The massive Caradon Alaquist addressed them from the doorway. “These weapons are undamaged for I have trained my hounds to avoid damaging weapons. Stranded on this world of sh--, I need whatever I can scavenge.”

   It appeared that he spoke the truth for he carried more human gear than anything else. His Velvo jacket, had been replaced with a simple hunters jacket, stuffed with shells. For weapons Alaquist had a large magnum, but unfortunately still retained his Caradon Spirit Dagger, which  Phillip knew  even a scratch from such a weapon was enough to take a man out.

     The Caradon himself was a stocky giant of a man, at least seven feet in height and as big around as an oil drum. He was as blonde as a Swedish baby and had an Angel’s face. “I’m impressed that just the two of you were able to take out this catch of Nezzoroths. My thanks for locating them, so many undesirables have been springing up from your kind, but I guess that should not be surprising."

     “Will it surprise you when I blow off your head?” Ann said rushing forward.

    The Alaquist had his pistol pointing at her face. “Actually it would, since that firearm is empty.”

     Holding out his arm to stop her advance, Phillip used that as an excuse to back up a foot. “Well since we helped you out, a gentleman such as yourself will naturally be letting us go.”

     “Nothing about me is gentle,” Caradon Alaquist snarled. “And I am afraid leaving is something I can not let you do, for Stalwart Baal is far too sweet. But tell me this, are there more of you around here?”

     “Son of a freak, I won’t tell you anything,” Ann screamed.

    Remembering that she had been a slave for a time, came back to Phillip. Ann had never spoken of her treatment before she had escaped, but Phillip was piecing it together.

    “Put a mussel on your female, Stalwart. We can do this the hard way, or the very very hard way and I will start with her, so you will have to watch.” His cutlass rose and there was a sudden loud retort within the house, quickly followed by another. Two growing circles of purple stained the middle of the Caradon’s chest. Wide eyed he turned, ignoring the Stalwarts, and lunged at a figure that had appeared behind him.

     Rushing up Philip saw both figures hit the floor with the Alaquist on top. There was a tortured scream  and Phillip saw that Carver was being carved.

    The two Xemmoni struggled doing insane amounts of damage to each other. Phillip moved in over them. Switching the grip on his cutlass he raised it like a nightstaker about to plunge a dagger into a vampire’s heart. Then with a shout, Phillip drove his weapon down so fiercely that it not only pierced the Alaquist, but also continued through until it struck Carver in the eye. Removing the blade only after he had twisted it in a full circle, he  decapitated them both for good measure. 

    Ann was already searching for bullets, her blood caked face covered in black ash.  Philip knew they both looked as bad as they felt.

    He handed her the mag, while his Desert eagle was returned to his holster.

    “Damn, where are the shotgun shells?” she said more to herself. “Oh wait, here are some rifle shells. Is that other gun still working?”

     “I think that was what he shot the Alaquist with and-“

   They heard the howling.

    Grabbing the box of shells from her hand, he yelled, “Come on!”  Snatching up the rifle, Philip began to race up the stairs. Ann was yelling after him, but he just hoped she could keep up. Reaching the bathroom he smashed the window and climbed out onto the roof. It was step, but using his sword to help him balance, he was able to make it to the side of the roof that faced the advancing hounds.

     Turning back to Ann, he smiled and said, “Make yourself comfortable." Ninety bullets later, the ground beneath them was littered with thirty-five sparking hounds. Twisted pieces of metal poked through their engineered fur at odd angles. To the east dawn was just beginning to stain the skies a flowing red, reminding him of a freshly poured glass of Merlot.  “I guess that is that,” Phillip finally said, trying to get Ann to smile. “We took out an Alaquist, fifty hounds and a horrid nest of cannibalistic Xemmoni. Not bad for a night’s work.”      Ann’s eyes looked to the horizon. He knew she was thinking about home and the others. He watched her long chocolate hair blow in the gathering wind. The dust was beginning to stir.

     “I would not blame you if you wanted to go back,” he said softly.

    Turning towards him, “No, I don’t want to go back. These things just grow and become worse. I have the utmost respect for Alex and the rest of them, but they are just waiting for the cancers to grow. Someone has to take the fight to them. Every Alaquist,” the word was a curse, “we kill, each person we send heading back to the Devin brothers... well it makes a difference, Phillip.”

    He saw that she was crying now. Moving towards him, she took his hand into hers. “I really do love you Phillip, I think you are the bravest of them all."

      “I love you too, Ann,” he said, squeezing her hand gently.

     Rushing into his arms, she did not notice that his eyes were leaking tears.

    Together they watched the dust paint the sunset and brilliant brown shrouded red.  

Please scroll down for Part II- we have kept the entire story online so everyone can enjoy the entire series