Lycan Fallout 5 Read online

  “I don’t know, to eat, probably. I know enough to realize that someone or someones are directing them. Polions have been solitary beasts forever, long before they were thrown out to the wastelands, before they were domesticated. There is no saying what the purpose behind all of this is.”

  “Is that why we’re following them? Wouldn’t it just be better to go about our own way? Find a different path in this new world?”

  “I like this place, Orderg. It’s peaceful. We’re able to do what we want; it’s not like where we left. Here, we’re free, not slaves bound for life to do someone else’s bidding. But someone wants to change that, and I feel like we’re going to need to fight to keep this place the way it is and not someone else’s vision of how it should be.”

  “Must we always have to fight, Stonemar?”

  “It’s different this time, my friend. We’ll be fighting because we want to, for something we believe in.”

  “I wish we didn’t have to.”

  “That makes one of us. Personally, I’m looking forward to sticking this in the face of whoever is trying to ruin this paradise.”

  Chapter 24

  Tim & Ganlin

  “Can you get me to him or not?”

  “I don’t think that is wise. We have both tried to kill him repeatedly; I cannot believe we would be met with open arms.”

  “Or open legs, am I right?” Tim laughed.

  “You are certainly preoccupied with your genitalia.”

  “Beats being a hundred-year-old virgin.”

  Ganlin was quiet.

  “How have you been around for what? An eon? Yet never slid your junk into the silky smoothness that is pussy? You have missed out. I’ve probably fucked the same number of women as the years you’ve been whatever you are. You were a person once, right? You never got some back then?”

  “I was young when I was taken, and afterward, well…”

  “Oh shit! All that crap they did to you made you a eunuch? Did they rip them free like a shark to chum or crack your little eggs with a hammer? That makes me wince, thinking about it. You know, my dick fell off once. Sure, I was a zombie at the time, but still messed with my mind something fierce. I’m no John Holmes, but I think I gave that Hedgehog dude a run for his money. Even if I had that wet little noodle thing you had hanging between your legs, I’d be sad. In your case, I’m thinking it would have been better off if you just cut it off and let dudes fuck you. At least you would have got some. You probably wouldn’t even have felt your dick being ripped free, would have been like popping a skin tag off. Pretty much the same size and about as useful.”

  “I would appreciate it if we stopped talking about this subject.”

  “A little sore spot? Get it?” Tim psychically nudged the other man, “Little?” then he guffawed. “So…is it true Talbot is married to that Red Witch chick?”

  “It is.”

  “Pull up her image again. Damn, he must be hung like a stallion if he landed that beauty. Think he’ll let me get some if I help him?”

  “I needn’t venture too far out on a limb to say not.”

  “Maybe once everything is said and done, Talbot finds himself deep in a hole and I just take what I want.”

  “Nobody takes something from the Red Witch she is not willing to give.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “As you are rooting through my memories, I have done the same to you.”

  “Careful,” Tim growled.

  “You were mired deep in mental instability and illness before you became a zombie and nothing that has transpired since has done anything to improve that. You reach out to your enemy, tell him you want to fight together, while simultaneously telling him you’d like nothing better than to murder him.”

  “Honesty is the best way to make people feel bad about themselves, ‘to fuck with them.’ That’s what my dear old dad used to say; he put it so eloquently. Isn’t it strange that the most successful way to hurt someone is to be honest with them? That’s some trippy shit right there. We are set up to lie to people, so what difference does it make what those lies are?

  “‘Sonny boy,’ my old man said, ‘you ever want to spoil someone’s day, you tell them exactly what you think about them. Well, hello, Mrs. Potter. Looks like that diet ain’t working out so well–you’re still fat as hell! Hey, Harry! You get a free bowl of soup with that fucked up haircut? Yo, Mrs. Henderson! Heard your husband ran off from your frigid ass to fuck his twenty-something secretary. Heard she’s pretty hot! It’s only painful if it’s the truth, boy.’” Tim looked out at nothing; he could remember his father gently tapping his head as he handed over these pearls of wisdom.

  “‘Watch,’ he told me once,” Tim smiled. “‘I’ll show you how it works.’ We were sitting in the living room; the television was blaring. ‘Hey, fat ass!’ he called into the kitchen where my mother was doing the dishes. I heard the water shut off. ‘That casserole tasted like rancid liver. Next time you spend all day cooking a meal, how about making it edible? Not sure how you got so fat on your disgusting food; you must be using all my money on take-out and giving me and Timmy here the bargain food leftovers. Next time maybe stop thinking about your wide ass first.’” Tim shook his head.

  “I heard the water start again, but this time it was from my mother’s eyes. Poor bitch was sobbing at the sink. ‘It’s for the best, boy,’ he told me. ‘No sense in dancing around it. This way you get your point across. Go on now! Tell that wide load in there what you thought about dinner.’”

  “It sucked,” Tim said quietly. “My father had whacked me hard enough on the top of my head my eyes rolled.”

  “‘Loud and proud boy,’ he always liked his rhymes, the old fucker. ‘Tell the cow what you thought! Ain’t no good if they can’t hear you. Don’t be one of those little pukes that says shit under their breath.’”

  “It sucked!” Tim shouted, aloud. “My mother’s cries became louder.”

  “Feel better?” His father had asked, tenderly.

  “And you know what, it did,” Tim said, himself again. “Bitch still made some shitty food from time to time, and I’d have to tell her off about it, but she never made that shit tuna thing again.”

  “Sometimes I wish you’d just kill me,” Ganlin said.

  “We’ll get there eventually, but I haven’t had a houseguest in years and I’m going to enjoy this for as long as I can. Right up until the point I don’t.”

  Chapter 25

  Mike Journal Entry 10

  “A psychotic killer clown is coming to help us?” Azile’s eyebrows were furrowed as she tried to make sense of what I was saying. It was far from the first time I had seen a confused expression on the face of someone I was talking to.

  “Not just any psychotic clown! Tim, he’s the one who has a personal vendetta against me and somehow has Tommy with him…or, possibly in him.”

  “You do realize you were sleeping, right?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I get that.”

  “And you know that in dreams bizarre things can happen. Like, when I was a young girl, I once dreamed I rode a unicorn through the mall. Jenny Addison was so jealous as I rode right into the Gap on that beautiful animal’s back. Then, somehow I was kissing Joey Reynolds in the janitorial closet in school. Weirder still, I didn’t even like him.”

  “Joey Reynolds? Is there anything you want to tell me?”

  “Yeah. It was a dream, just like you had.”

  “Azile, I’ve been around long enough to be able to tell the difference between a dream and dream walking.”

  “Okay, but Mike, are you listening to what you’re telling me? A clown who has professed he desires nothing more in this world than to kill you is coming with Tommy, who you say died in a lava flow. How does any part of that find a place in your mind to call truth?”

  “The part where he said Gabriel sprung them from the underworld to do us in.”

  “We were literally just talking about this. It could be your subcons
cious rehashing everything.”

  “I believe you,” Linnick said.

  “Just because he thinks it is the truth doesn’t mean it is.” Azile was looking at the breatine.

  “I’m not sure why you are digging your heels in on this,” I said.

  She sighed, her head bowed. “I hate clowns.”

  “The Red Witch afraid of a red nose?” I smiled, then a few minutes later wished I never had.

  “I was seven; my mother had brought me to the circus. We were in line waiting to get cotton candy; I wandered away while she was talking to my aunt. I wanted to see the elephants…I didn’t realize there were so many people. I figured I could keep Mom in my line of sight as I went. I just followed my nose; the smell of dank grass and elephant offerings was strong. I went under the flap of the main tent we were in and then under another, much smaller one. I saw two of the magnificent animals–both seemed incredibly sad as they looked down at me. Each had a large chain attached to their back legs. They were reaching out with their trunks to touch me as I was stretching my hand to them. I was nervous, but excited, too. If I could have found a way to release them I would have. The one closest to me trumpeted, just as I stroked the tip of his trunk.”

  “Sounds like you should be scared of elephants,” I interrupted.

  “No,” she smiled, “that was one of the most wonderful experiences I’d had up to that point. Even then I could tell it was such a magnificent, majestic animal. We bonded in that small moment of time; it was Toodles the clown that changed everything. I hadn’t noticed him before–he was off to the side of the tent, smoking cigarettes and drinking from a large flask. He reeked of stale vices. I turned to leave; it was then I noticed the pile of rocks by his feet and the ones throughout the tent.”

  “Prick was tossing them at the elephants?” I asked, though I already knew the answer. “I swear they put that make-up on just to hide who they truly are from the rest of the world.”

  “He shouted at me to get my ass over to him. ‘You ain’t s’posed to be here,’ he said. He was drunk–or close enough to it.”

  “Did he throw a rock at you?”

  “I wish he had. Maybe I would have got over my paralyzing fear and made a run for it. Instead, I went toward him.”

  Of course I moved to interrupt her here, but she held her hand up, wanting to get the story out. I knew it wasn’t something I wanted to hear, but I let her tell it.

  “‘Come closer,’ Toodles demanded, his tobacco-stained teeth…I’ll never forget those crooked yellow fangs, that lecherous smile.

  “My mom has cotton candy, I have to get back,’ I said softly. I tried not to cry, but I could feel my cheeks were wet. I didn’t want him to know how afraid I was.

  “‘Oh, sure honey,’ he said, ‘I can get you some cotton candy, too. Some of the best cotton candy ever.’ His words were as repulsive as his smile. Then he said it, and I knew I wouldn’t get away from him. ‘But not until after,’ and he wiped his mouth. ‘When I’m feeling relaxed. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you.’ He stood; I could hear this little whistling sound, you know, from his baggy silk pants. He came towards me so fast, taking these long, forceful strides. I was terrified, frozen in place.”

  “My god, Azile! What the hell?!” I closed my mouth, honestly, I didn’t know how to react to what she was telling me.

  “He wrapped his hand in my hair and yanked up hard. I cried out; I guess the tent silenced every sound. He bent my face up; his breath…I can’t tell you…it was like death. ‘Little young,’ he breathed, talking to himself like I was already dead, ‘but you’re a looker and you like it rough. Looks like it’s your lucky day, Toodles. Probably not yours though, honey.’ He pulled back hard again, I remember the wetness of my sobbing catching in my throat, it was bent back so far. What he said next made my heart stop. ‘After I’m done,’ he said, ‘I’m going to bash your head in with a rock and toss you into the river. Make it look like an accident; maybe blame it on the elephant. Won’t be the first time.

  “‘Please,’” I begged, my voice barely escaping. I wrapped my little hands around his much bigger one; he had me lifted onto the tips of my toes.”

  Azile paused and laughed sadly. “I remember feeling sort of like one of the puppets from the show at the entrance. Only, those ones looked like they were having a lot more fun.

  “‘It’s not time to beg yet, honey,’ he said. ‘Soon, but not yet.’” Azile closed her eyes. I put my hand on her lap and she picked it up and down, making a slow rhythm to match pace with her words.

  “He started dragging me by my hair, back farther into the tent, to a darkened corner. He forced me towards a pile of hay; I guess it was there for the elephants. I pulled and yanked as much as I could but he held tight. “‘Don’t worry too much,’ I heard him say, ‘there will be a lot of pain for a short time and then nothing, forever. No mommy, no daddy, no circus…and no Toodles.’” Azile dropped my hand and gently touched the top of her head, smoothing down the beautiful red hair, remembering the horrible hand that had been tangled in it.

  “Azile, baby, you don’t have to talk about this,” I whispered, placing my hand on her shoulder. But she shook her head. She needed to continue.

  “Then, mercifully, he stopped. I thought perhaps the clown had just been playing a mean joke on me and now it was over. I pulled again, and this time I was able to get free.” She shook her heavy locks back over her shoulder. “I didn’t care at all that I’d lost a handful of hair in the process. I started to run, but I had to turn back, you know, to see how close he was. The elephant had wrapped his trunk around Toodles’ neck. The man’s arms were outstretched, beating ineffectively at the appendage. Blimpo–”

  “Blimpo?” I interrupted. Couldn’t help it. She held her hand up to silence me.

  “–the elephant had pulled the man up off the ground. All his weight was being supported by his neck. Blimpo squeezed harder; Toodles’ face turned a blotchy purple, rapidly heading to blue. He looked over at me once as if asking me to go and get help…instead I turned to watch. As much as I wanted that clown dead, I was afraid for that magnificent, intelligent animal; my rescuer.

  “They’ll hurt you if you kill him,” I said to Blimpo. He regarded me with his large, brown eye. I am certain I heard him respond. He said somehow:

  ‘They have been hurting me my entire life; what is one more pain in an existence filled with it?’”

  “I believe you,” I told my wife.

  “‘Thank you,’ I said to him, and I walked over, right next to the hanging body of that man, though his legs kicked wildly back and forth. And I wasn’t afraid any more. I stroked the side of the elephant’s face; his eye drooped and he sighed, enjoying this one small act of kindness.

  “Go now.’ I heard him…I don’t know, maybe it was in my mind, but I heard it. ‘You do not wish to see what happens next.’ Then there was a last strangled gurgle from Toodles. I had no sooner made it under the tent flap when I heard a stifled crack; it reminded me of my mother breaking a drumstick away from a chicken thigh.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I had one of my hands up to my neck. I was thinking on how close I had been to losing her, but couldn’t help also imagining what it would be like to die by an elephant; both thoughts were horrific. “I’m so sorry.” I hugged her tightly, she shivered against my body. “If the world ever gets on track I think we should outlaw clowns.”

  “I second that.” She snuggled into my chest; I felt some dampness on her face, but her voice was strong. “So, how long do you think we have until Tim gets here?” She stayed against my body.

  “Whenever it is, it’ll be too soon.”

  We stayed pretty close to each other for the remainder of the night, lost in our thoughts and missing the kids dearly. More than once I had to push back the feeling that I had seen them for the last time. Hard to really convey what torture my brain cooked up that night; it was like I was playing an unlimited game of whack-a-mole with these dire thoughts
, but it wasn’t a flat surfaced playing area. It was more like an enormous, morphing cube and the little pricks just kept popping out in random and multiple places continually. I definitely got my quarter’s worth.

  Kalandar, on the other hand, looked well-rested and raring to go as soon as the sun began its ascent. I was in a fog most of the day. Luckily, the polions were moving slow enough we were able to get abreast of and then actually move ahead of them. We had maybe three days until we got back to Denarth. The question was, then what? Sure we’d fight, but this army had proved difficult, if not impossible to stop and it was a foregone conclusion that the “Generals” would show themselves now. Wasn’t entirely sure who that was going to be; had to figure if this was a movie we were building up to one hell of a climactic ending, where, I hoped, we were the heroes. But if that was the case, why did I feel like stewed meat? Wasn’t the hero supposed to be all gallant? Riding in on his white steed, saving the day? Someone got it wrong, because I looked more like the bedraggled, dark villain come to kill the sheriff, take the town over, and steal off with the heroine.

  “You all right?” Kalandar bumped me with his side–it wasn’t much, but I stumbled off sideways about fifteen feet.

  “He should maybe watch where he’s going!” Linnick chirped.

  “She’s so cute when she’s angry.” Kalandar smiled down at us.

  “Alright. Why are you so chipper?” I asked.

  “Great and terrible things are going to happen very soon, and we are going to be at the center of them.”

  “And that somehow makes you happy?”

  “No one remembers Marshall Ney.”

  “Who?”

  “My point exactly.”

  “This a legacy thing?” I asked. When he smiled I figured I had got it right. “You do realize those things are highly overrated. First off, if you have a legacy, that means you’re dead. Also, I thought that was strictly a human construct. It’s a strange notion, you know. To want to leave something behind to be remembered by, but how could it matter? You’re dead. You have no idea someone’s remembering you. And so many people were consumed by leaving their mark while they were alive. It compelled a great many to do incredible things.”