Knights of the Apocalypse (A Duck & Cover Adventure Post-Apocalyptic Series Book 2) (8 page)

This man in black
stepped to the front of the stage and looked over the crowd without speaking a
word. The crowd rippled wherever his gaze set as the men beneath it turned
their eyes away, shrunk down or tried to hide behind the person next to them.
More than one pretended that their shoe needed to be tied and ducked his gaze.

 
Satisfied with what he saw, he turned to
the back of the platform and nodded. He stepped aside to the right most edge of
the stage where he knelt and continued to make everyone nervous.

The next man on the
stage was everything the man in black was not. Dressed in rich colors and
groomed well beyond apocalyptic standards, the young man walked with his chin
in the air. His skin radiated above the throng of soot-stained mineworkers and,
though his stature was far less imposing than the giant, the crowd knelt before
him when he raised his arm to wave.

Erica and Jerry
looked around to find that they were the only
two left
standing.

Brae tugged at
Erica’s pant leg and waved her to the ground.

Erica watched Jerry.
The man she knew would never kneel, but, apparently, Mike had no issue with it
and he took a knee in the snow of the town square. Jennifer kneeled next to
him. Chewy
laid
down and closed her eyes.

She whispered out the
side of her mouth. “I think they’re taking this Renaissance fair shit a little
too far.”

Brae shushed her.

So did Jerry.

Erica felt a rush of
red to her cheeks as she realized she was doing exactly what she’d warned Jerry
not to do. She was already finding a reason to start an uprising. She had to be
smarter than that. If she started making stupid jokes, Jerry would, too. And
that never ended well.

“Please, please,
everyone. There’s no time for that.” The young man raised his arms and the
crowd stood. “I stand before you not as your prince, but as a friend that needs
your help.” He was silent for a moment before adding, “But, also as your
prince.”

The crowd rose and
Erica studied the young man. He wasn’t much more than twenty but was
comfortable in front of the crowd. He stood tall and proud and read from his
palm.

“Today I am a broken
man …” the prince paused, looked sad for a brief moment and squinted at his
hand. His lips moved silently before he looked back to the crowd and spoke
again.

“My wife, your
princess, has been taken by thieves, by cowards, by …” he looked at his hand
again. “By those who wish to see our peaceful kingdom fail.” The citizenry that
ringed the crowd gasped and booed. The prince stole another look at his hand as
the crowd settled down. “But, our kingdom is strong. And our kingdom is true
and loyal to its subjects and we shall chase down these villains and …” he
rolled back his sleeve to read his forearm, “… rescue the princess.”

Erica leaned over and
whispered to Jerry, “You’re off the hook. It sounds even dumber when he says
it.”

“We’re going after
her,” the prince continued. “Just like we would if any of you were taken.”

One of the men at the
front of the stage raised his hand. “Even me?”

“No, not you. You’re
a filthy peasant. I meant proper citizens.” The prince snapped his fingers and
said, “That reminds me.” He looked at his other hand. “I need brave
men—men of honor and courage—to join this quest to rescue the
princess. Those among you that are honorable enough, loyal enough, brave
enough, and lucky enough to not get killed shall be made full citizens of the
Kingdom of the Five Peaks. And you shall be granted all the rights and
privileges due a person of your status and probably a bath.” The prince laughed
and looked at the man in black. “I added that last bit.”

The man in black
nodded but did not smile.

The prince turned and
left the stage.

A knight stepped
forward and roared to the crowd, “You heard his Highness. We’re going to save
the princess. Save the princess and you can crawl out of that shit hole of a
mine. Where are my volunteers?”

Filthy and calloused
hands shot up without hesitation and waved like a child who knew the answer.

The knight put on a
show of deciding whom to choose. He rubbed his chin and paced the stage,
occasionally picking a man from the rabble at his feet.
 

Jerry started into
the crowd.

Erica looked at him.
“You don’t have to do this.”

“No, it’s okay,” he
said. “This is our chance to stop running.”

“We can just leave,”
she said. “We’ll find somewhere else.”

“If we leave, they’ll
just keep chasing us.”

She followed his gaze
out into the crowd. Each man tried to reach higher than the one next to him.
Some were pulling the others’ hands down in desperation.

“No. No, Jer … Mike,
you can’t do this.”

“I love you,” he said
and stepped deeper into the crowd.

EIGHT

Before the apocalypse, Sir Dominic probably
wasn’t much. Not many people were. It was the law of averages. Not everyone
could be someone in a world full of people. But with ninety-nine percent of the
population out of the game, it was much easier to be someone than it was
before.

Jerry had no idea what the knight did before
the world changed, but he could tell the man thought he was somebody now. And
he obviously loved every minute of being on a stage.

The knight paced the stage enjoying the
selection process more than anyone should. He slowly pointed to men in the
crowd at random and issued his verdict with a laugh the men in the crowd could
do nothing about. “You. You. Not you. Not you. Yo … just kidding, not you.
You.”

“Wait,” said the filthy miner. “I wasn’t
volunteering, I had a question.”

The knight rolled his eyes and sighed. “Fine,
what is it?”

“Is the quest going to be dangerous?”

“What? Of course it’s going to be dangerous.
It’s a quest. Why wouldn’t it be dangerous? It’s the effin’ wasteland out there.
Bandits and beasts behind every rock.”

“Yeah, I guessed it would be dangerous, but
how dangerous? I can handle bandits, but … are there going to be mutants?”

“Of course there are going to be mutants.”
Sir Dominic pointed to the south of the city. “What do you think those walls
are for?”

The man with the questions threw up both
hands. “Well, duh, mutants … but, what kind of mutants?”

A man next to him spoke up. “Yeah. Will it be
the slow, ambling kind? I don’t mind the slow, ambling kind.”

“Well, no one minds those,” the first filthy
miner said. “Or the decomposing kind. They’re not too bad.”

“Right,” the man began to laugh. “I knew a
guy that pulled an arm off one of them and beat the thing with its own arm.”

The crowd laughed so good and deep that dust
from the mine rose from their lungs. The fit of laughter turned to a coughing
fit.

Sir Dominic laughed, too. “That is pretty
funny. I have to hand it to that guy.”

The pun silenced the laughing, coughing fit
and the crowd returned to silence.

“Oh, to hell with you people,” said Sir
Dominic.

The miner who started the line of questioning
spoke again, “Look, as long as they’re not the vampire kind. Those things freak
me out.”

“And the zombie kind are the worst,” another
added.

“Oh. I don’t know if they’re worse than the
vampire kind.”

“I think they are.”

“Well, who the hell are you? Some kind of
mutant expert?”

“That’s not even a real thing people can be.”

The man in black stomped on the platform. A
bang rolled through the crowd leaving silence in its wake. The sound had
startled them but it was his voice that ensured silence. “Enough.” His voice
was nothing more than a whisper, but it was the kind of whisper that came from
under the bed and dark of night. It was a horrible whisper that promised hurt
and pain. He raised his voice only slightly. It was like the dull thud of a
fist smacking wet sand and shredded from too many swallowed nails. “Where we’re
going there’s only one kind of mutant—Aztecs.”

The hands in the audience dropped.

“What?” Sir Dominic asked. “You’re not afraid
of a few Aztecs, are you? Get your hands back up.”

The hands stayed down.

“You’re all cowards. You’re a disgrace.
You’re not fit to be in the king’s service. ” Sir Dominic stomped back and
forth across the front of the stage casting insults into the crowd. Maybe it
was how he motivated others. “We should get the women in here. They’ve probably
got more balls than you.”
 

The miner in the front was full of questions.
“Well, what else do we get?”

“What do you mean, what else do you get? You
get citizenship. You get to leave the mine. You get to call yourself a man. You
get to carry yourself with dignity.”

“Yeah, but what else? I mean, if it’s Aztecs,
we should get a little something extra.”

There was general agreement from the crowd.
It was the bravest they had been.

Sir Dominic looked to the man in black and
got a slight shrug in response. “What do you want?”

“Well, I think we should at least get a song
written about us. All the great quests get songs.”

“Okay,” the knight said. “You get to call
yourself a man, carry yourself with dignity and we’ll have someone write a song
about it.”

“Who?” someone asked.

“What do you mean, who. One of the bards, of
course.”

“Which one?” This question came from the back
of the crowd.

Sir Dominic shrugged. “We’ll get Arno to
write it.”

Another voice chimed in. “Eddie sucks. We
want Christian.”

The knight chuckled, “Yeah, in your dreams.”

“Why can’t Christian do it?”

“You honestly think your quest is worthy of
Christian? The man who wrote the
Ballad
of Sir Timothy and the Big Breasted Wench
?”

The crowd cheered.
 

“No.” Sir Dominic shook his head. “Eddie will
be just fine.”

A challenge came from the crowd. “Name one
thing he’s written.”
 

“He did that one, what’s it, the
Tragedy of Too Much Mead
and he wrote
that one before the war, that one about the shoes at Christmas.”

“That song sucks.”

“Look, it doesn’t matter. We’ll get you your
damn song, if you’re not horribly killed by Aztecs. What’s it matter, anyway?
You’re all too cowardly to volunteer.”

Jerry reached the front of the platform and
raised his hand.

Sir Dominic spotted it quickly and pointed to
him. “You, the idiot with his hand up. No more questions. You’re going.” The
knight scanned the crowd and spit when he saw no other volunteers. “No one
else? Fine.
These three up front.
You’re in too.”

One of the newly conscripted asked, “So we
all get to be citizens?”

“Sure. Sure, you do. All you have to do is
rescue the princess,” Sir Dominic smiled, “and not die.”

A tall man with sandy blonde hair had been
one of the first to raise his hand. “What about our families?”

The knight nodded. “If you live.”

One of the smaller conscripts shot back,
“That’s not fair. We’re risking our lives. They should get to be citizens
either way.”

“Life’s not fair,” Sir Dominic said. “I used
to have a pool. And a Porsche, so shut up.”

The crowd began to argue, but a low growl
from the black knight stopped the dissension. “The train leaves soon. Be on it
or go back to your hole in the ground.”

Sir Dominic looked down on them and laughed
as the crowd dispersed.

Jerry lingered and let them move around him
as he listened to their conversations. Now that the danger of being selected
had passed, some muttered that they should have been chosen. Others sounded
relieved to go back to the mine. Those that truly volunteered celebrated. Those
that “volunteered” said nothing. They wore the cold pit in their stomach on
their faces and stared into the ground.

Jerry made his way back to Erica. The look on
her face worried him. She stared through him. He could see her mind working out
his gruesome death at the hands of whatever an Aztec was. He smiled anyway,
knowing he couldn’t fool her. “It doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Oh, really?” she asked. “What’s an Aztec?”

“It was some kind of SUV, wasn’t it? I think
it came with a tent.”

There was no smile. “You’re trying to be
funny. We talked about that.”

Jerry shrugged. “It wasn’t that funny.”

“It wasn’t funny at all. I said you were
trying. And now they want you to play the hero.”

“Hardly. I’m going to lie low in the group.
Hopefully they’ll save the princess and I won’t have to do anything.”

“Sure, because that’s what you do. Lie low.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“You come back alive. That’s what you need to
do.”

“I always have.”

Brae had found the man with the sandy blonde
hair and thrown her arms around him. They smiled and kissed for a moment before
Brae tugged on his hand and directed him towards Jerry and Erica.

Jerry whispered, “Here comes Brae.”

“Oh yeah, by the way, who is Brae?”

“I honestly don’t remember.”

“Well, she seems to remember you two being
very close.”

“Where are you getting the ‘very close’
thing? What did she say?”

“What would she say, Mike?”

He didn’t like the way she said his fake
name. He already had to worry about whatever the hell
an
Aztec was and a kingdom full of half crazy cosplayers. He didn’t need this. “I
don’t remember her.”

Erica shushed him as the other couple neared.

The girl looked like she was about to squeal.
It was boiling behind her grin. “Pretty exciting, huh? This doesn’t happen
often. Quests are pretty few and far between.”

Jerry looked at Erica and pointed at the
girl. “Brae, right?”

Erica whispered, “Nice try,” just before the
squeal erupted.
 

Brae slapped him on the shoulder. “Of course
it is. And, you’re Mike.” She winked. “She’s Jennifer.
and
this is my husband Shane.”

There was no denying that Shane came from the
mines. He looked outlined. Dirt had burrowed under every nail and into every
crease it could find giving him the appearance of a living illustration. It was
most apparent around his eyes. The man squinted against the light despite a
growing overcast. He looked tired, but he shook Jerry’s hand with a grip that
could crush rock. “Nice to meet you, Mike. Brae says she knows you from years
back.”

Jerry hesitated for a moment before trying to
match Brae’s smile. “Yes. She does.”

“That’s great. That seems to happen less and
less these days. I’m pretty sure everyone I knew is now dead.” He looked up
before adding with certainty, “Or a mutant.”

Brae barreled past the awkward silence that
followed. “I wanted to make sure you two met. Shane is going on the quest as
well. You two can watch out for one another, Mike.”

“Great. That’s …” Jerry ran out of words.
“That’s great.”

 
“I’ve got you, buddy.” Shane slapped
Jerry across the back. “Any friend of Brae’s and all that. Stick with me and
we’ll both get back alive. And if we’re lucky, we’ll even save us a princess.”

“Does that sound as weird to you as it does
to me?” Jerry asked.

Shane laughed and nodded, “Some things you
never get used to. But as far as places to live out the apocalypse, there are
weirder and there are worse.”

“Prove it,” Erica said.

Shane laughed. “You’ll probably have to take
my word for it. An hour around here isn’t as long as it used to be.”

As if on cue, the town crier rang his bell. A
young man not out of his teens, he was tall and frail but his voice boomed and
filled the street. He didn’t need the bell but he rang it anyway. “Conscripts,
to the train. You have five minutes or you will forfeit in perpitu … in perpetu
… oh fuck it, forever your rights to citizenship!”

 
“Five minutes?” Jerry said. “That’s not
much time for good-byes. We still need to find a place for Jennifer to stay.”
He looked at Erica. She had missed the use of her alias. The slip up grew into
an uncomfortable silence with only one possible end.

“You can stay with me!” Brae clapped her
hands, the excited hostess. “I’m sure you have lots of questions and I can tell
you all about the kingdom. I can show you around town. We can even go to court
and see the king.”

“I can see the king right there,” Erica
pointed behind the group as Elias walked by greeting the people on the street.

Brae giggled and took Erica’s hand. “Come
on.”

“Thanks,” Erica resisted the tugging at her
arm. “I was going to head back to Durango and wait for my brave knight’s
triumphant return.”

“What? Oh, they won’t let you do that,” Brae
said.

“What do you mean?” Jerry asked.

“Whenever a party goes out, they close the
gates. We would never do it, but some of the women might take the chance to run
off and meet their husbands on the outside. By keeping everyone here, they
think everyone will come back to work out their contract. Everyone stays inside
the walls.”

Erica looked to Jerry. “They can’t do that.”

“Sure they can,” Brae said. “Kings can do
anything. But don’t worry. You can stay with me.”

“I really …”