Madness

Chaos grips the world above as a small pocket of humanity tries to figure out that age old question: What now?

Chapter 2

-Madness-

The Messenger awakened in a well lit room devoid of furniture. The floor was soft and the walls were hung with thick padding. It had been a long time since The Messenger had been aware of, well, anything. The Messenger had no concept of self, and did not even think of itself as having gender. The Messenger simply was, and that was enough. As The Messenger's head cleared it took note of the sounds of the world around it. The noise made by the madmen in the neighboring cells had increased, but there was no sound of guards coming to quiet them.

“Just as well,” The Messenger thought out loud, “who better than the inmates to run an asylum. Yes, the inmates. To be honest they who ran it before weren't much better at it, no, not really.” The Messenger laughed at this, then stopped abruptly. There was important work to be done, very important. God had spoken! He had told his messenger what it must do. Yes, important work indeed. This night was not the first time God had spoken to The Messenger. No, oh no, there had been other times. Yes, sinners to be punished, very important work indeed. The Messenger remembered the first time. Its parents had sinned. Oh how they had sinned, the naughty things they had done. The things It had endured at their hands. But they had gotten one thing right, they always called it It, and It remembered fondly their blood as it drip, drip, dripped; So warm.

The Messenger sighed as it went to the wall were it pried away the loose corner of one of the padded panels to reveal its hidden stash of various useful looking items. They had been procured on the daily walks The Messenger was allowed. The staff were watchful, very watchful, for any sort of misstep. Watchful, but they didn't watch its feet. No, never its feet. Small items proved easy to hide between ones toes. It knew this day would come, and come it had. Ah yes, this would do. Bend here, straighten here, a twist and a click, and the lock slid open.

Ah yes, the asylum, the nut hatch, the mad house, the booby bin, so full of sin. Where there was sin, there were sinners. The halls were empty with the exception of the screams of the sinners, they knew what must come. A trip to the boiler room, a twist of this knob, a spin of this wheel, a roll of duck-tape here then out the front door and along the walks. It didn't even flinch as a loud explosion rocked the trees lining the long drive, or the flash of light that settled to a rapid flickering. The screams had gone now. There was nothing but the crackling from behind and the slap of The Messenger's feet to break the night's calm. A few hours walk found The Messenger in the local department store. A new identity, yes, and a bike ride to the next town awaited it. The Messenger had a bus to catch.

*****

Jim Basset was awakened by a sharp pain in his back, the camping pad did little to spare him from the hard rock of the cave floor. To his astonishment an odd feeling he had not felt before accompanied the ache in his back. It was a feeling of dread, like someone was sneaking up on him. Jim had never, in all his forty-three years, felt anything like it. He groaned as he rolled over, trying in vain to find a comfortable position, and was startled by a sweet melodious voice.

“Having trouble sleeping?” The voice belonged to a young, vibrant woman with shoulder length brown hair. She was holding a pillow and smiling sweetly, “I brought you an extra pillow, it should help.”

“Thank you Sam,” Jim said as she tucked the pillow under his back for him to lean against as he rested.

“Any time,” she said, “thank you again for stopping for me.”

“Couldn't just leave you on the side of the road could we?”

“I guess not,” she said as she turned away, “but thank you anyway.”

Samantha Green was from out of town. She had been visiting her cousin's farm when the end came. Jim had happened to look down an old dirt road as he passed, and seen her struggling up the road in her embroidered overalls and carrying a worn duffel bag that was obviously too heavy for her. Jim had signaled the other vehicles to stop and went to pick her up. Jim could see the smile fade as Sam turned away. This was not surprising. Among the younger survivors, each had their own way of dealing with the sadness they all felt. Samantha tried putting a good face on things, and she tried to keep herself busy by helping out as best she could.

After a few more minutes restlessness on the hard ground, Jim decided to get up. This, of course, was not as simple as it sounded. Jim's bad leg made getting off the hard ground a difficult ordeal involving more pain. He had to use the cavern wall and his cane for enough leverage to pull himdelf off the cold floor. This was followed by a short break to allow the pain in his back and knee to subside.

The chamber they were in served as a refuge for the twenty-eight people who were all that, from this area at least, had survived the end of the world. It was large and deep enough underground to muffle the noise from the impacts on the surface, if only slightly. Natural pillars had formed where stalagmites and stalactites had fused together after the thousands of years of dripping water. Quartz in the stone walls and calcium crystals decorating the pillars made the chamber a breathtaking site. A small side tunnel led to an underground river that provided a good source of fresh water, filtered and chilled to perfection by the earth's loving embrace. The underground river ran through the side passage, rushing through a shallow ravine it had cut into the stone. It went underground again not far from were it surfaced. Just above where it dove back into the depths of the earth was a small chamber that opened into the larger chamber. The river flowing beneath the chamber served to cool it and Bill had decided to use the chamber as a sort of pantry.

Jim adjusted his pants, patted the pocket where he kept the letter from his wife that was his one prized possession, then walked to the mouth of the passageway that led to the surface. He found John Williams sitting on the side of the walkway.

“You feel it too?” Jim asked as he approached the one-time sheriff.

“Like the icy fingers of impending doom?” he asked, shaking his head, “Yea, I feel it.”

“It's like something, or someone is out of place,” John's wife Jaime said as she walked out of the passageway, “we have been taking turns patroling the passageway and this chamber all night.”

So it is morning then?” Jim asked with a yawn as he sat down next to the sheriff.

“If you can call it that,” Jaime said darkly with a look back up the tunnel, “The wind has died down and the impacts are less frequent, but the sky is still black as pitch. You can't tell by looking at the sky, but yes, it is morning.”

“How can you tell?” Jim asked, tired from a restless night's sleep.

“John's watch,” Jaime replied, “he never takes the thing off.”

“Oh,” Jim said.

“You OK?” John asked.

“Not really,” Jim said knuckling his back, “didn't sleep well last night”

“I could imagine,” John said, “I noticed you had a hard time getting up, we will have to do something about that.”

“Thanks,” Jim once more felt ashamed. The last thing he wanted was to be a burden. Things were going to be hard enough without a broken old man holding the others back. “We need to make everyone comfortable though. I have a feeling we will be here for a while, a long while.”

“Hey, it's no problem,” Jamie said as she sat down next to her husband, “But you are right. If this is going to be our home, we need to make it comfortable.”

“So,” Jim said, changing the subject, “Have you been patrolling all night?”

“No, we took turns with Joshua and Bill” John said.

“What about Sally?” Jim asked.

“Are you kidding?” Jamie laughed, “She is about as intimidating as a marshmallow.”

Jim couldn't help but smile at the thought of his pretty, dark haired friend patrolling the passageway in her sun dress, “Did you find anything unusual while you were patrolling?”

“Yes, actually,” John said running a hand through his hair, “Nothing that would cause this feeling, just something odd. There was a deer in the cave last night. It ran off down one of the side passages.”

“A deer?” Jim asked incredulously.

“Yea, I know,” John said, “I could hardly believe it either and I saw it. Joshua said he saw some other tracks as well.

“Wow,” Jim said, then a sudden thought struck him, “other than the sky, how does it look on the surface?”

“Dark mostly,” John answered, “I think the area around us only took a few light impacts, but it is hard to tell for sure.”

“OK, when things calm down a little more out there I would like to see if the park's maintenance building is still standing. We could use some tools if we are going to turn this cave into our home.”

“I hadn't thought of that, “ John said, “We will keep an eye on that and let you know when things have settled down enough to go out.”

“OK, Thanks,” Jim said scratching his side were his shirt had twisted under him.

“That reminds me,” Jaime said noticing Jim's scratching, “Bill wanted to see you, he said something about a surprise. He is over by that chamber we stored the nonperishable food in. He had us bring a few things down from the semi trailer on our last patrol so I think he is getting ready to make breakfast. John and I are just going to get changed then we will join you there.”

“Sounds good,” Jim said, “I don't suppose coffee survived the end of the world did it?”

“Sadly, no,” Jaime said.

“Figures,” Jim sighed as he stood up, “see you at breakfast.”

“OK,” John said as he and Jaime walked over to were they had put their belongings.

Jim made his way through the cavern watching his footing carefully as he went. It took him five minutes to make his way to the chamber beside the side passage where he saw a tall, athletic man setting up the camp stove and shuffling boxes in and out of the smaller chamber where food was kept.

“Jamie told me the bad news,” Jim said as he approached the man.

“What bad news?” Bill asked.

“No coffee”

“Oh come on, it's not the end of the world,” Bill said with a wry grin, “Oh, wait. It is isn't it.”

“Yep”

“Oh, well,” Bill said as he opened another box, “I guess a good breakfast will have to do. It should be ready in about thirty minutes.”

“Anything I can help with?” Jim asked.

“Nope,” Bill said with a smile, ushering Jim to one of the camp chairs that was set up around one of the three folding picnic tables, “just sit back and let me do my thing.”

After shuffling through a few more boxes Bill began sitting ingredients out on the table that he was using as a food preparation area. It had been set up on some flat stones to give it some extra height. He lit the camp stove and moved to his makeshift counter-top to begin chopping some fresh vegetables that had been on the refrigerated truck.

“For now we eat like kings,” Bill said with a sad look on his face, “That will not last long though. I took an inventory of what was on the truck this morning. It is mostly vegetables and milk, things that will not last long even if refrigerated properly. We really can't afford to let it go to waste. In a week and a half the vegetables will go bad, the milk not long afterward. There is some active culture yogurt, that is a blessing. We did get kind of lucky, one of the grade school science teachers ordered a culture of Rennet. It was on the truck too.”

“What is Rennet?” Jim asked.

“It is used to make cheese,” Bill said as he began cracking eggs into a large bowl, “i guess she was going to use it as a science project or something. I'm glad she did, we can use it to turn a large part of the milk into cheese. It will keep longer that way.”

“So, you learned to make cheese in culinary school?”

“No,” Bill replied, “My aunt had a dairy farm, she taught me to make it when I was kid. She was the main reason I decided to go to culinary school. I used to spend my summers at her farm milking cows and making cheese and butter to sell at the farmers market. It was great.”

“So,” Jim asked, finally noticing the big bowl and high quality cooking utensils Bill had been using, “where did you get the big bowl?”

“I took a few moments to run through the kitchen store next door to the farm supply” Bill shrugged, “Just felt like a good idea at the time. The knives, however, are my own personal set. No cook in his right mind would go anywhere without them. I did get a set for someone else to use if anyone else needs to cook. Which reminds me, I have something for you. Come see me after breakfast.”

“OK,” Jim said.

“I also got some seeds while I was at the farm supply store.” Bills grin widened with excitement, “Jamie is going to help me set up an herb garden. So whatever we do find to eat down hear, it won't be bland.”

Soon John and Jaime arrived and joined the conversation accompanied by Joshua. Sally emerged from Bill's pantry where she had, apparently, been helping him inventory supplies. Not long afterward the other survivors followed, drawn by the sizzling and warm smells of breakfast that had filled the chamber. The first two to arrive were handed apples and recruited to help serve breakfast. This turned out to be a young, strangely haired boy named Jeremy and his sister Cathy. They were the children of the town's head librarian. They said they wouldn't mind serving, but they both looked longingly at the tasty looking omelets Bill was plating. The rest of the survivors were served first. After they were served Bill served his five friends himself before joining them. None of the others had chosen to join them at their table so the six friends ate in relative privacy. Most of the younger survivors took their plates a short distance away and ate in silence.

“They are a quiet bunch,” Bill said.

“They are in shock,” Jamie said, “It won't last long.”

“We need to get organized before they get comfortable,” Jim put in, “if there is no clear organization things will soon break down into total chaos.”

“So, how do we do that?” Bill asked.

“Well, first we need to find out what we have to work with,” Jim said, “what kinds of skills we have in our group. Then we need to assign roles for everyone suited to those skills. We need to let each individual know they are important to our little community. Bill here is obviously in charge of food, while John and Jamie can be looked to for safety and security. Joshua is great with anything mechanical,” Joshua raised an eyebrow at this, “ Don't give me that look Joshua I went to school with you. I remember your science fair projects, and you were always tinkering with something. Sally was a teacher, and probably the best to handle finding out who is skilled in what.”

“Sounds like you gave this a lot of thought,” John said.

“I didn't get much sleep,” Jim said apologetically, “I had a lot of time to think while I was staring up at the stalactites. I also thought it would be a good idea to get everyone together later, sort of a community meeting. I thought it would be a good way for us all to get to know one another.”

“Well,” Jaime chided, “sounds like we have a plan then. Perhaps we should keep you up more often.”

“No, thank you,” Jim said, rubbing his aching neck.

“That reminds me,” Bill said, getting up and walking over to the pantry chamber, “I was going to give this to you last night, but you were asleep by the time Sally and I finished.” Bill emerged from the chamber a few moments later with a full looking hikers pack. On the front the name 'J. Basset' was written on the fabric name tag with a sharpie.

“Thank you,” Jim managed to croak, “Thank you.”

*****

The Messenger sat with a plate cradled on its knees. Food was a necessary evil, one of a few inescapable worldly things It regularly engaged in. The Messenger didn't enjoy the thing on the plate, It never did. It ate mechanically, stuffing the fluffy, warm thing into Its mouth, just managing to choke it down. The Messenger looked over to where the old one sat with his sycophants. They seemed to be enjoying their meal. Would that it were their last, but that would have to wait. A little while longer and the time would be right. It could punish them all then. The messenger would be patient, and the opportunity would present itself. Yes, the time would come and the blood of sinners would add to the incessant drip, drip dripping in the dark, in the cold. Let them compound their sin, The Messenger would soon bury them with it.

*****

The day progressed slowly, time seemed to crawl for Jim as he watched the others go about their work. Sally and Joshua began going around the makeshift camp talking to each of the survivors and informing them of the upcoming meeting. It was decided it would be held during dinner and Bill said he would try his best to scrape together something good to eat.

Bill finished organizing the groups meager supplies and set to work with his plan to make cheese. He rounded up a few volunteers with the help of Joshua and Sally, and started hauling milk down from the truck. John and Jaime took turns patrolling the passageway and helping settle everyone into their new home. Jim opened his new pack and found to his delight that the clothing within would fit him. He hung a blanket between two of the chamber's columns near his pallet. He changed into a pair of loose fitting, blue sweat pants and a green, pocketed t-shirt. He was careful to place his precious letter safely in the pocket of the t-shirt. The pack also contained a pocket knife, a shaving kit, and a supply of over-the-counter naproxen-sodium tablets. Jim gladly took a few of the latter and sat down on the edge of the walkway. He took the letter out of his pocket and reread it a couple times before carefully refolding it and placing it back in the pocket of his t-shirt. After a half hour the pills took effect and the pain in Jim's joints had subsided considerably. He decided to stroll over to were Bill was hard at work over a large, steaming pot. His helpers where hard at work opening individual cartons of milk and emptying them into a second pot while a third was cooling on the makeshift counter. Jim looked in the second pot to see the congealed contents sitting in a cloudy, yellowish liquid.

“Um,” Jim said looking concerned, “Is it supposed to look like that?”

“Oh good,” Bill said looking over Jim's shoulder, “I was worried it wouldn't work. Processed milk doesn't usually make the best cheese.”

“So it is supposed to look like that?” Jim asked as Bill began cutting the congealed white mass.

“Oh, yes,” Bill said transferring the pot to the stove and removing the first. He added a cupful of liquid to the warm milk, “The white part is the curd, that is what will become the cheese. The yellow whey will be drained off and disposed of. I just need to keep it warm until after it is kneaded. Then we can store it safely.”

“Oh,” Jim said, “So, what kind of cheese is it?”

“Mozzarella,” Bill said as he gently stirred the whey as it warmed.

“Cool, looks good.”

“Ha,” Bill said, “Not yet, but it will when I am done. Thanks though.”

“I'm sure it will. Well,” Jim said, scratching his head, “I think I will go see what John is up to.”

“OK. Hey,” Bill said tossing Jim a small, brown carton of milk, “One for the road.”

“Don't you need this for the cheese?” Jim asked, catching the carton with his free hand.

“It's fine,” Bill went back to his stirring, “Besides, its chocolate. You can't make cheese with chocolate milk.”

“Well, thanks,” Jim said happily, “I love chocolate milk.”

“Enjoy,” Bill said as Jim hobbled off with his milk.

“Will do,” Jim waved the small carton as he walked toward the mouth of the passageway that led to the surface.

On his way he spotted a young man with short, unkempt hair. He was huddled next to a stalagmite with a distant look on his face. Jim walked over to him and greeted him, “Hello,” he said warmly, “You alright?”

“Hmm? Yea I'm OK,” The young man couldn't be more than sixteen.

“My name is Jim, by the way,” Jim said smiling.

“I'm Jason,” The young man said not meeting his eye.

“Well, Jason,” Jim said, “Nice to meet you, is something bothering you?”

“I'd rather not talk about it, if its OK with you,” Jason said his face growing dark.

“Alright,” Jim said handing Jason the carton of chocolate milk, “If you feel like talking later you know where I live. Feel free to stop by if you are in the neighborhood,” the corners of Jason's lips twitched upwards momentarily, “Ha, knew there was a smile in there somewhere.”

“Thanks for the chocolate milk,” Jason said.

“No problem,” Jim said as he hobbled off once more.

Something needed to be done to raise the group's morale, perhaps one of the others would have an idea. Jim hoped once the group was organized and people felt more secure in their future things could turn around. For now they had to see to the group's survival. He found John leaning on the rail of the walkway that led to the surface.

“I'm beginning to worry John,” he said, taking a seat on the walkway's edge once more, “they don't look so good and this is only the first day. How are things on the surface?”

“Still dark,” John said with a shake of his head, “It is getting close to ten now and looks closer to midnight. The strikes are coming less frequently, but we had a few more close hits. I don't think it will be safe to go out until some time tomorrow. We may want to keep our time on the surface short, we are starting to get some debris falling from the sky.”

“Can I see?” Jim asked.

“Jaime will be back soon,” John said, leaning on the rail next to where Jim was sitting, “then it will be my turn to go up top. If you want to come with me I would be glad for the company.”

“Good,” Jim said looking up at the one time sheriff, “I am getting a feeling of urgency, to tell you the truth. I am not sure why. It is getting a little unsettling to tell you the truth.”

“Yea,” John said looking up the tunnel with a worried expression, “I know what you mean. This uneasy feeling is making me uncomfortable as well. I am not sure if the two are related or if it is something else entirely.”

It wasn't long until Jaime came back down the tunnel from the parking chamber. She too had a worried look on her face. She walked up to the rail and put an arm around her husband's waist.

“What's wrong,” John asked her.

“More animal tracks,” she said with a puzzled frown, “definitely not deer this time, some sort of large dog. I think it may have been wolves, I hope it is wolves anyway and not coyotes. Also I saw what looked like bear tracks. They seem to be sticking to the upper tunnels for now. I don't know how long that will last though.”

“I see,” Jim said, “How hard would it be to put up some sort of doors on the entrances to this chamber?”

“Not too hard if we had the right tools,” said Jaime,” but all we have are in Joshua's toolbox. They are mostly wrenches, a hammer and a few screwdrivers.”

“Jim and I are going to see what it is like on the surface,” John said, “he needs to see what is going on out there.”

“Just be careful, I don't like the looks of some of those tracks,” she took off her jacket and held out her shoulder holster for Jim to take. He looked at her like she was trying to hand him a poisonous snake, “Take it,” She insisted, “I would feel better if you were both armed. If something happens you can cover each other's back side.”

“Where did you get the guns?” Jim asked, as John helped him adjust the holster's straps.

“You really didn't sleep last night did you?” John chuckled.

“I thought you two were on vacation,” Jim said.

“We were,” Jaime said, “but in a town this size the sheriff and his favorite deputy can't go on vacation without being on call for emergencies. Besides, gophers can be really annoying on golf courses.”

“You're kidding right?” Jim asked, shooting her an alarmed look.

“About the gophers, yes,” John said with a chuckle, “But we were on call.”

“Funny,” Jim said with a grin.

“Well, lets head on up,” John gave Jim some safety instructions on the way up the passageway and showed him how to operate the gun's safety mechanism.

When they reached the chamber they had parked their vehicles in a thought occurred to Jim, “Um, do we know how much fuel we have for the generator?” he asked.

“I checked this morning,” John scratched his chin and glared at the side passage the generator was in, “I would say we have about four, possibly five days worth of fuel left.”

“Gas or diesel?”

“Gas, sadly”

“Well,” Jim said, “I have three quarters of a tank in my van that gives us around ten gallons more. How bout your truck?”

“It's a diesel,” John replied, “so with your ten gallons I would say you have another days worth”

“Well,” Jim said after a few moments thought, “we will just have to see if Joshua can come up with something. It is obvious we can't rely on that old generator for too long.”

“Yea,” John said as the two made their way to the dark opening that led to the outside world, “That thing is on it's last legs anyway. It hasn't been maintained at all, I am surprised it has lasted this long to tell you the truth.”

“Hopefully we can find some more fuel in the maintenance building,” Jim said as the two approached the entrance to the cave.

The two men rounded the bus they had parked near the entrance to shield the other vehicles. The world outside was black as pitch. The clouds overhead boiled and churned violently, lit occasionally by flashes of heat lightning. The warm, oddly still air felt heavy and humid and smelled of smoke. From the chaos in the sky a light snow seemed to fall. The gray flakes drifted downward in the still air. It had not been falling long, only a light coating had collected on the ground in the circle that the caverns exterior lights cast in the hellish gloom.

“Yea,” Jim said looking out into the darkness, “urgent”

“Just a bit,” John agreed, “If enough ash builds we won't be going anywhere, and it looks like it is building up fast.”

“I guess we can't afford to wait then,” Jim said, hobbling back around the bus.

“Here,” John said, handing Jim the keys to his truck, “I'm going to run down and get Joshua.”

“Good idea,” Jim said and started hobbling toward the truck. Then he remembered the shoulder holster, “Wait, John,” he cried as he took the heavy thing off.

“Yea?” the sheriff asked.

“Jaime may need this more than I do,” Jim tossed the holster and John snagged it out of the air.

“Thanks,” John said as he ran toward the passageway.

Jim started the truck and pulled it closer to the front of the bus. He put it in park and got out. If he remembered right, this kind of truck required locking the front wheels into four wheel drive mode using rotating handles on the wheel hub. It turned out to be a painful operation, requiring him to lean heavily on the side of the truck as he locked each of the front wheels into place. He then hobbled to the other side of the bus and pushed open the door, sending the few flakes of ash that had drifted in the crack swirling around the bottom step. He climbed into the bus and sat behind the wheel. It took quite a bit of effort for him to depress the clutch with his bad leg and put the bus into reverse. He let the large vehicle roll backward far enough to make room for the truck. He left the bus in reverse and simply hit the break and shut the engine off rather then try the clutch again. The pressure had sent a fire up his left side from his knee. Leaning heavily on his cane he just managed to get back behind the wheel of the truck before his knee gave out. His knee throbbed, Moving the bus had been a stupid thing to do. He should have waited for the others, but the urgency of the situation gnawed at him. It had to be done. By the time Jim had finished berating himself John and Joshua had arrived.

“Alright, lets get going,” John said as he slid into the passenger side of the truck and Joshua buckled himself into the back seat. He looked over at Jim who's face had grown pale, “Are you alright?”

“Yea,” Jim answered, “It's just my knee again. I'll be fine.” He turned on the truck's headlights and put the truck in gear. It lurched forward as he gave it a little too much gas, it certainly had much more power than his van had. The maintenance building was not that far away, just about a quarter of a mile down the road to the driveway that was hidden behind a row of evergreens. The going was slow, the ash stuck to the windshield and turned to mud when Jim tried the windshield washer. Jim backed the truck up to the garage door on the front of the building. Jim waited in the truck while John and Joshua hopped out and ran in a half crouch to the front door. Joshua tried the handle and shrugged his massive shoulders at finding it locked. His eyes bulged as the much smaller sheriff walked up to the door and with one swift kick had it open. The two men disappeared inside and before long the garage doors opened. Jim rolled down the window as John trotted up and tapped on the glass.

“Were in luck, there is a trailer,” John said shielding his eyes from the ash, “I will guide you back so we can hook it up.”

“Alright,” Jim said and the sheriff disappeared behind the truck again. He emerged again a few moments later and motioned for Jim to back up. Once in place Jim felt the trailer hitch slide over the ball on the back of the truck. Each jarring bump sent waves of pain up Jim's leg as the trailer was loaded. He wished he had not forgotten the anti-inflamitories back in his pack. He felt for his letter and tried to take his mind off the pain as he read the words again and again. He had no idea how long it took to load the trailer and truck with tools and whatever supplies were to be found in the maintenance building. By the time John and Joshua climbed back into the truck the ash had piled four inches thick on the hood of the truck, The ash was falling so hard that it was impossible to see more than fifty feet. The truck struggled against the weight of the trailer as Jim drove through the ash. Every bump made him wince as the pain in his knee punished him for his indiscretion with the bus. The weight of the trailer seemed to grow as the truck neared the cavern entrance. As the truck's power failed, the tension in the cab grew. By the time the lights of the cavern came into view, Jim had a hard time keeping the truck going, and all three men were on the edge of their seats. The truck rolled into the cavern on its last legs and died not far into the cavern. The relief of making it home flooded over the three and they all started laughing hysterically until tears streamed from their eyes.

“I'll help you to your pallet, Jim,” Joshua said with broad smile once they had caught their breath.

“Thank you...” the lights dimmed and flickered and the sound of the generator sputtering filled the awkward silence. John made his way to the generator as Joshua helped Jim make his way to the passageway leading down to their camp. The lights continued to dim as the generator sputtered. Suddenly John's voice was heard from the generator chamber.

“You! What ar...” his voice cut off with a thunk and the sound of him falling heavily. In the dim, failing light a figure rushed out of the chamber and pushed it's way past them, disappearing down the passageway. The pair lost their balance and went crashing to the cavern floor. A sickening snap followed by an agonized scream was the last thing that Jim heard as he slipped into unconsciousness. Just before darkness overtook him, he realized that the scream was coming from him.

*****

The Messenger sped down the passageway. The generator finally failed, plunging the world into darkness. It took the thing long enough. The darkness didn't matter, it remembered the way. The troubling thing was that The Messenger had been seen! A pity it did not have time to finish off that meddling sinner that had interrupted it's work. It had managed to hit him hard enough to keep him out for a long, long time. The thought brought a smile to it's face. It would have to take an alternate rout back to the camp. The Messenger was glad that it had stumbled upon it the night before while exploring the surrounding passageways. The Messenger had to wait, that was the confusing thing. Why would God tell his Messenger that there was work to be done, and then make it feel that it should wait? Why shouldn't it have killed the men above when it had the chance? For the first time in its life confusion outweighed its sense of purpose. For the first time in its life there was doubt.

Author's Note

I will try to post one a day until I am caught up :)