002

Chapter Two

Saul remains in a deep R.E.M. sleep for two days straight. When he finally awakes the dawn sunlight is creeping in around the thick wooden door. Seamus, Fergus, and Liam are gone and Alieana and Torri are still sound asleep. Saul sits up in his bed and rubs his eyes. As he stands up and stretches his arms, a stabbing pain rises from under his left collarbone where the skin is tender and tight. Wincing, he lowers his arms and feels at the lumpy bandage taped over the wound. He finds his old white t-shirt and pulls it over his head, followed by the NASA sweatshirt. Stacked neatly by the door sit his clunky pair of boots which he oddly doesn't remember removing before drifting off to sleep. Still in the stupor of post-sleep confusion, Saul slides his boots on, secures the laces, and heads for the door.

Gently, he pushes open the wooden slab which emits a low, hollow, creaking noise. Alieana stirs but doesn't wake as Saul ducks through the door sill he notices she looks even prettier while she's sleeping. He emerges into the same wasteland they were dropped into days before. Being surrounded by hills of yellow and beyond that, towering mountains of white, he begins wonder where Johan is now, praying for his safety. WIth the old knife is still tucked into his belt just in case, Saul strolls casually along in the shadow of the sheer cliff dwarfing the ancient castle turret. From his pant's pocket he produces a pack of Swisher Sweet cherry cigars he and Johan had planned on smoking as a celebration upon their arrival home. Knowing now he'd never truly be back home he lights one up. The sweet smoke fills his lungs and gently calms his shot nerves.

Saul take a pace that is relatively slow to better observe his cryptic and scorched surroundings. The ocean is now out of sight, lost behind the rolling hills of the once beautiful Scottish highlands. Glancing up the sheer, towering ledge he sees a cloud filled sky and then, something twitches, catching his eye. Saul stops dead in his tracks and grips at the knife hilt. Waiting for another movement he finally gets it as a large insect scurries down the cliff face with a bead set on him. The insect is about the size of a watermelon with big black eyes, silver wings, and a long black stinger at the end of its glistening thorax. A large mutation of a hornet or wasp. Saul swallows hard and draws the knife knowing it won't do much good. The predator draws nearer and Saul takes a half step back. The bug pauses, now parallel with Saul it looks ready to pounce. 

Just as Saul is about to turn and run for his life, a loud crack rings out causing Saul's ears to whistle momentarily. As his hands shot to his ears and his head defensively bows away, the terrifying insect explodes as its two silver wings flutter to the ground and a large splatter mark of black and silver is left on the cliff face. Saul whirls around, adrenaline pumping, to see Alieana twenty yards from him. She stands rigid with her legs parallel beneath her shoulders and an old .357 revolver clutched in her hands. Saul breathes a sigh of relief.

"You shouldn't be wandering around all alone," Aileana's face has a look of concern, "especially with only a kitchen knife for protection.

"I know, sorry. I needed a smoke," Saul shrugs.

"Why would you smoke when there are so many other things in the world that can and want to kill you?" Alieana questions sarcastically while holstering her grimy nickel-plated revolver.

"I don't usually smoke, these were for a special occasion," Saul flicks the butt onto the ground, "I figured the occasion is never coming so I decided to take the edge off of my nerves."

"Come back to the castle," she approaches him, "we've got some coffee and fresh wolfbear meat."

"Wolfbear meat," Saul chuckles, "what does that taste like?"

"It's not bad, better then starving," Alieana says wisely. Saul and Alieana stroll back to the castle turret in silence. Upon arriving back "home" Saul decides to break the silence.

"Where did your father and brother go?"

"They hunt every night," she explains, "they should be back any moment." 

As she opens the door, Saul's nostrils  are filled a pleasant aroma he hasn't smelt for years. The scent of fresh brewing Columbian coffee beans.

"Where did you find coffee?"

"We scavenged it after the bombs fell. We were very proactive after the attacks, that's why we have survived so well."

"Well your father seams like a great man," Saul compliments as he accepts a cup of coffee from Alieana.

"He really is, he's a true survivor. He certainly has done his best to keep us safe through all of this."

Saul draws a longing sip of coffee. His lips meet a rich brown liquid that is slightly bitter but he doesn't care, he hasn't had anything in his stomach for three days. The hot coffee also warms him and gives a spark of caffeinated energy that was greatly needed.

"Were any countries left unaffected by this holocaust?"

"Not that we know of. The only regions not affected were places in the world that were already living in this state. Rural Africa and regions like that," Alieana stirs uncomfortably.

"So now the whole planet is just one big third world country? Is that what you're saying?"

"Im sorry," Alieana walks to him, "did you loose loved ones? A wife?"

"Not a wife, just my little brother, Rory," he looks into Aliean's beautiful emerald green eyes.

"We lost our mum," she glances over at the still sleeping Torri, "it's been the hardest on her."

"I lost both of my parents when I was 16. They were victims of car jackers during their time in D.C. Me and Rory were left to fend for ourselves while I finished high school and college."

"That's admirable," Alieana smiles back at him, "no wonder your brother has so much adoration for you."

"Well, you gotta do what you gotta do. Right?" Saul glances away from her.

"Absolutely," Alieana draws close to him when the door bangs loudly causing her to shoot away in haste. The thick wooden slab creaks open and Fergus lumbers in dragging a bloodied body. The left leg is missing at the knee and his left side is left completely scorched and riddled with shrapnel from the throbbing stub to blood caked, red hair. Seamus is the next through the door and his face is marked with a grave expression, white as ghost. Alieana cries out and runs to the bumbling big man Fergus.

"Liam!" tears fill her eyes. The wounded man is non other then her little brother, Liam.

"H-he," Seamus sobs, "l-landmine," he breaks into tears. Fergus quickly lays Liam on a bed and Torri shoots out of bed with terror and grief in her dark and magical eyes.

"Torri, get the medicine chest," Alieana commands and she hastily obeys. Aileana runs to the side of the bed and puts her hand to her brothers' neck. He is still breathing broken gasps and blood is still pumping weakly. Torri sets the chest down and clicks it open for Alieana to pull out an I.V. filled with a clear liquid. She quickly finds a vein, hooks up the bag and hangs it on a steel bracket above the bed.  Next, Alieana cuts off what is left of his leather pants and takes a look at the stub that used to be his left leg. His appendage has been blown clear off just above the knee cap and blood sputters from the parts of the wound not sealed shut by the intense heat of the detonation. Alieana wets a large wad of gauze with rubbing alcohol and begins to clean the crudely formed wounds.

Once sanitized as best as possible, Alieana begins to bound the bloody stub in gauze. She now turns her focus on the scorched skin running all the way up his left side. His leg and torso are mostly unscathed but his left forearm, neck and face have been burned slightly and speckled with hot shrapnel. His brilliant red hair is singed off the side of his head and arm. Alieana dabs the raw skin with more alcohol and begins to patch it up in segments.

Once completely patched and cleaned up, Aileana and Torri sit silently next to the bed holding his limp, grubby hand. His heart rate and breathing remain consistent albeit weak. Walking silently to the wooden table, Seamus sits down with his head in hands. Fergus wipes his hands of Liam's blood and goes to the bedside where Alieana stands and falls defeated into his thick arms and begins to cry violently. Beginning to feel very uncomfortable, Saul is overcome with an urge to bolt from the door and leave this awkward situation.

"Is there, umm," he stutters, "anything I can do?"

"Thats- hic- okay," she sobs, "he should be fine after all," she pulls away from Fergus and composes herself once again.

"Okay?" Fergus looks down at her.

"Lets get something to eat, Im sure you're starving Saul," she moves to a blackened pit that functions as an oven in the back center of the round room.

"It's okay, I can wait."

"Nonsense, eat," she pulls some meat onto a dark clay plate and walks it to her father. He doesn't respond.

"Pappy, eat something."

"I should 'ave paid better attention. I could 'ave prevented this from happenin' I can't live wiv this."

"Don't blame yourself father, it's not your fault."

He stands abruptly and kisses her on the forehead. With seriousness and purpose, he strolls around Alieana to Torri who he gives a small peck on the head. Without a second glance, he leaves the room to take a solitary walk into the hills.

"Should someone follow him?" Saul points out the door to Alieana.

"He'll be fine, he does this all the time."

"Lets eat something," Fergus pulls a piece of meat from the roasting carcass and shoves it in his mouth. Saul moves to the meal and does the same finally giving in to his hunger. The meat is tough and salty but never the less fills his completely empty stomach. He washes each mouthful down with a gulp of hot coffee until his stomach is satisfyingly full. Alieana throws some strips of meat on a clay platter and walks it to her solemn little sister.

"Torri, eat something. I know you're hungry."

"Saul me boy!" Fergus bellows joyously, "how would you like to take ole Liam's place on the scav team?"

"I, umm..."

"Come on, what better you got ta do?" Sit about here and flirt with Alieana?"

"I-"

"Well so would I!" Fergus laughs deeply, "but we need help out there, and I don't think Seamus would 'preciate you puttin' it to 'is daughter," Alieana glares a little at Fergus but he doesn't notice.

"I'd love to join you."

"Excellent, take a step inside Ferg's emporium of killing tools and pick yer poison!"

"Umm, huh?"

"What kinda weapon you like?"

"Well, I'm not sure," Saul thinks hard, "I'm not real experienced with weapons."

"Bah! Thats no matter," Fergus lumbers to a large chest before his bed and unlocks it, "this should suit ya'. Just aim and spray," he holds up an old Russian Kalashnikov.

"An AK-47?" Saul recognizes it from the numerous news clips he had seen of Islamic terrorists in the Middle East.

"Don't let a Russian hear ya' call 'er that," Fergus hands him the compact, fully automatic rifle, "they prefer the term Kalashnikov. But never the less, this puppy won't jam and it fires in any conditions. Once saw a fellow continue to fire even when the damn thing was all ablaze."

"What about ammo?"

"Here, one magazine in 'er already. Tuck these two inta yer belt," he hands Saul two more magazines, "I got five more in me pack," he points to the large duffle bag strapped to his back.

"Where did Seamus go?"

"I think I have a pretty good idea," Fergus turns to Alieana.

Saul doesn't say anything in reply but the inquisitive look on his face must have shown his desire to know more as Alieana opens her mouth to explain.

"He usually walks down to where mum died. The home we all used to live in before the attacks."

"Oh, gotcha."

"I suppose we oughta go find tha old man," Fergus hoists his shotgun and moves to the door, "I'll give the rundown of the wastes on the way there."

"Sounds good," Saul nods confidently and jacks the first shell from the clip into the chamber.

"Thats a boyo," he bellows and emerges into the daylight. Saul turns and glances at Alieana who gives him a nervous, sweet smile as if to wish him good luck.

"Okay, so tha only rule out here is... there are no rules! Most people you meet out here just want to do three thing to ya, rob ya, kill ya, and rape ya but since yer don't got tits yer shouldn't have ter worry bout 'at. If someone confronts you don't bother tryin' ta reason, these ruffians got no reason. Negotiate with what ya got in yer hands," Fergus strides along explaining his dark, twisted world.

"Gotcha."

"If ya want somethin' take it cus if you don't someone else will and they'll leave yer with nothin' but empty pockets, piss stained britches and a bloody stump fer a head."

"There's got to be more good people left like you and Seamus in the world."

"There are but a few survivors like us, not too many though. The ruthless man is the living man. Perhaps we can rendezvous with some of them one of these days. However, I heard rumors that there is a large settlement in Glasgow that is doin' well. Sort of a sanctuary type place. Me an' Seamus been talkin' 'bout checkin' it out someday. That don't look too good with Liam in his condition, he's gonna take a lot a takin' care of now."

"Will he be okay?"

"He'll live I figure," Fergus scratches at his red bushy sideburns, "but if I ever get in 'at condition jus' put a bullet in me head and end it. I don't wanna live like 'at."

"I can't imagine it either..."

As they crest a large hill and look again down upon the gloom and doom of Edinburgh. The odd contrasts in the city strike Saul funny. One section of the city looks like something out of Braveheart, with the stone buildings capped by thatched roofs. The other section looks much like any other modern day city located in any other industrial nation. Once shiny buildings reach into the sky but have been swallowed and dyed gray in the ragnarok. No movement is visible within the ruins giving the impression of an eerie ghost town. They begin to descend the hill when a series of shots ring out causing Saul and Fergus to freeze and look at one another as two more shots ring out.

"Follow me," Fergus is dead serious, "and don't dally."

Fergus bounds forward with a determined look in his eyes with Saul following behind finding it somewhat hard to keep up with the extremely tall Fergus. Shots continue to ring out a short distance in front of them as they streak through the rubble on a straight line. Finally they come to a large pavilion area and across the way, two bandits stand outside a window waving pistols around and hollering taunts and jeers. Fergus looks back at Saul with blank determination.

"Stay here and cover me, if they spot me open fire on 'em."

Fergus brings his shotgun up and quickly jogs into the square in a slight crouch. The two enemies are preoccupied with whatever is hiding under the window frame, which Saul suspects to be Seamus. Fergus closes quickly on the bandits and is now within thirty yards. Just as one bandit turns to see the large man bounding towards them, Fergus raises his Benelli and touches off two shots within the same second, made possible by the semiautomatic action. The turning bandit shudders as two volleys of buckshot pepper his grimy face. Stunned, the second whips around quickly, turning into two more shots of ammo. He spins and falls to the ground in a pile. Fergus arrives at the two bandits who still twitch and blink from overactive nerves. Quickly, the large man jacks four more shells into the weapon, spins it around onto his back and draws his sidearm, a large Desert Eagle .50. With two quick motions he sends hulking chunks of lead into the brains of the twitching men. Turning back to Saul, he motions for him to join him.

"Yo! Seamus!" Fergus hollers and Seamus' head pokes up from under the windowsill. Standing to his feet, he brushes himself and begins to mumble and grumble angrily.

"The filthy fuckers. Filthy f****n' bleedin' c***s."

"You alright?" Saul asks boldly.

"Fine, fine boyo," Seamus disappears and reemerges on the ground level.

"Blow off all yer steam? Liam is a tough boy, he'll pull through."

"I know bu' he's gonna be crippled fer life. How can I deal with tha'? Its my fault and yer know it."

"Stop blaming yourself, this is a dangerous world, s**t 'appens. I know it, yer know it, even he knows it."

"Lets go," Seamus looks at them both and starts off towards the castle. Fergus and Saul glance at each other and follow him set back a few paces.

All the way back to the castle ruins, not a word is spoken between the three. Not until a black pillar of smoke can be seen climbing into the sky followed by gunshots and a shrill scream. Seamus cries out and breaks into a run with Fergus  right behind him. Saul follows almost subconsciously. They sprint down the hill and see a figure slouched over and peaking through the turret door. Seamus pulls up, takes a knee and raises his trusty rifle. Within a second, a shot rings out and the figure by the door crumples to the ground in a pile. Two more bandits emerge from within and Seamus continues by hitting one with a shot to the stomach which sends him into an a*s over teakettle roll, arms and legs flailing about. When he comes to rest, his back arches forward as he clutches at his punctured guts. The last assailant sprints away and Fergus draws his Desert Eagle as he is out of range with the shotgun. Aiming while running he, cracks off five fast shots. The last shell hits the fleeing man in the hamstring, sending him head over heals into the dirt. Without a hesitation, Fergus puts six more shells into the writhing body. The empty clip is quickly ejected and replaced with a fresh one. Fergus puffs and blows for air with a crazed look on his face, a face of a natural killer.

Seamus and Saul run to the door to find Liam sprawled out on the floor, cold and twitching, blood rushing from his neck. Alieana kneels beside him desperately holding a rag to the gushing wound, without much success. Torri is oddly nowhere to be seen. Seamus screams out with grief.

"What the hell happened?"

"They broke in, Liam had just woken up and attempted to fight them off. They stabbed him in the throat and snatched up Torri," she begins to get hysterical as tears stream down her cheeks. Once again a red inferno lights in Seamus' face as he kneels to his daughter and shakes her.

"Son of a b***h. What direction did they take her?"

"That way," she sobs pointing down the cliff face.

"Fergus, lets go," Seamus' face is ablaze with an intense shade of crimson, "you stay here and make sure they don't come back," he looks at Saul.

Without another word Seamus and Fergus are gone. Saul props his gun against a vacant bed and goes to Alieana's aid. 

"Is he going to be alright?"

"H-he-he," she can't even speak.

"What is it?"

"He stopped breathing five minutes ago," she chokes. Lost in misery, her hand comes away from the wound and she falls back in grief. Saul moves to her and puts his arms around her. Intense sobbing erupts into his chest from her large heaving cries. They sit together on the floor for many speechless minutes in the puddle of Liam's pooling blood. After what must have been an hour, Alieana looks up at Saul, her eyes are red and puffy.

"We need to bury him."

"Sure, that's a great idea. Want me to move him to a bed?"

"I'll clean him up for the burial."

Alieana stands and pecks Saul on the forehead. With tears in her eyes, Alieana cleans the grime off of her dead brother's face and changes his clothes to an outfit of an all white jumpsuit. Despite his scorched face and missing leg, Liam finally looks somewhat at peace. His eyes are shut gently and his boyish facial features resemble that of a sad angel.

"He looks at peace."

"Yes, I still can't look at him," she pulls a white sheet over her dead brother as Saul comfortingly puts as arm around her.

"It's gonna be okay."

"I hope pa is okay, and what about Torri? I can't handle loosing my little brother and sister in the same day. Oh my god..."

"I trust your father. I saw the look in his eyes. He won't let anything happen to her. Trust me."

"Thank you... thank you, for everything."

"Don't mention it. We wouldn't have made it very far at all without your fathers help."

"Oh my god, I completely forgot about your friend... do you think hes okay?"

"Im sure he's fine. Johan isn't the kind of man to give up."

"This is a world he's never seen before though. He doesn't know what he's in for."

"Still, I'm sure he's fine," Saul pulls away from her and looks out the door into the rolling hills of waste. Shots ring out in the distance, echoing from somehwere.

"Do you think that was your father?"

"Who knows, could be," Alieana strides behind Saul and begins to massage his shoulders.

"I should be helping them."

"Then who would protect me," she squeezes a little harder and Saul glances back at her.

"Well-"

"Torri!" Alieana screeches and sprints past Saul, through the door and across the rugged landscape. From around the corner of the cliff face, Seamus and Fergus emerge, trudging towards them in the dim dusk lighting. Fergus is carrying Torri, cradled in his arms. She is awake and alert but her eyes are glazed with fear and pain becoming cold and unfealing. Seamus has an even graver look on his face, that of severe pain and anguish or a defeated man. Alieana clamors to her thunderstruck father.

"She's fine?"

"Lets go inside," Seamus looks disturbed. They walk through the door and Fergus places Torri gently onto her soft mattress.

"Rest lassie."

"What happened?" Alieana demands from her hather.

"She was...... They were......" he clears his throat as tears rolls down his rosy cheeks, "when we found her she was.... being raped."

"Jesus christ," Saul turns as tears of a passionate rage well in his eyes.

"Torri," Alieana's face streams with tears as she flies to her sister's side and locks her in a hug. With another look of anguish and defeat, Seamus lifts his head once more.

"We can't stay here."

"What do you mean?" Saul questions.

"They know we're here. They'll keep on comin' back. I 'spose this is tha time ta make our trek ta Glasgow."

"It's gonna be a tough trip," Fergus replies.

"Well if we stay here, we die. Not much choice nah do we?" Seamus stands.

"When?" Alieana asks.

"Tomorrow. Firs' thing, we need to bring as much supplies as possible. Pack up good."

"I'll start packin'," Fergus tosses his backpack down and unzips it. Walking to the mounds of various chests in the room, he begins to pack the bag. He throws in can after can of preserved goods. Beans, peas, pork, beef. He packs far more then a normal man would carry. With the large section of his sack filled with food, he begins to fill the front compartment with ammunition. Shell after shell of his 12 gauge buckshot. The sling for his gun contains a bandolier that holds close to fifty shells but he packs as many as possible in his sack just the same. Now completely full, his bag must weigh upwards of fifty pounds. Fergus lifts another empty duffle bagand tosses it to Saul.

"Thanks," Saul follows Fergus' example and begins to throw canned goods into the bag. Taking up a pile of empty 7.62 mm magazines, Fergus starts to thread shells into them. One by one, he hands them to Saul when they're filled. Alieana stands and begins to pack a bag of her own filled with bags of coffee, dried fruit, and shells for her .357 revolver cushioned with spare underwear, socks, shirts and sweatpants. When finished with her bag, she packs one for Torri filled with all same things but instead of .357 shells, the young girl is loaded up with full magazines for a German Luger. She places the bag next to Torri's bed where the terrified girl has already gone down for sleep. Alieana kisses her forehead and strolls to her own bed. Unbuttoning her raggedy capri jeans, she pulls them down her toned legs exposing her bright red panties. She glances up at Saul who must have been staring because she blushes while rolling into bed and quickly shields her body with blankets. Saul's attention is quickly drawn away by Fergus' bear paw clapping down on his slightly tender shoulder.

"This is going to be one hell of'a expedition."

"Get some rest you two. Yer gone need it," Seamus lays down into his bed and closes his eyes.

"Sure thing boss," Fergus strides to the largest bed in the room and almost instantly starts to snore. Looking around, Saul finds the closest open bed which is parallel with Alieana's. As he closes his eyes for some much needed sweet sleep, he hears Alieana's faint voice.

"Goodnight Saul."

"'Night," Saul whispers back and the next thing, he's drifted off to a deep sleep.

Author's Note

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