11

Chapter 11 of Disease

I cannot speak, for I know not what to say. This force is beyond me.

- Osiris

Julius sat cross-legged in the middle of the petrified forest, rain dripping down his cheek to fall toward the ground below. The drops that had fallen already had created a pool of death that spread outward on the ground, eating away any miniscule amounts of life it encountered; and yet, Julius remained unharmed, the water dripping harmlessly down his face. It wasn’t anything special. Just another gift from his masters.

Janus had asked for much, and had promised much in return; but as Julius sat among the essence of death, he wondered whether the promises of a fallen god would satisfy the hunger of his damned soul. What kind of being would ask Julius to destroy the man who had saved him? Robert Thurman had been and was still the best hope Julius had of finding peace again. No matter what Janus or his damned Caucus said, Julius still believed that Robert could save him.

Robert can indeed save you, but only that. Omnipotence said, whispering through the dark corners of his mind. The Caucus can exalt you beyond anything you have imagined.

Julius ignored his dark companion, concentrating on his breathing. His body may appear to be healed, but the pain, oh, the pain! The searing of his flesh, the burning of his skin could still be felt throughout every cell of his maimed body. He awoke with it in the mornings, and took it to bed in the nights. It haunted his waking and sleeping dreams, turning his life into one enormous nightmare. It was his one sustaining force, as Janus had promised that, if Julius complied with his wishes, he would stop the pain forever.

But, for now, all Julius had was his breathing to keep it at bay.

He sucked in lungfuls of humid air through his mouth, kept them in his body for a split second, and slowly released them through his nose. He repeated this process over and over again, ignoring every small irritation from the outside that would destroy his focus. The water continued to drip down the side of his face, making trails across the beard stubble on his chin. His breathing continued.

Ignore the pain. Ignore it. His thoughts went, creating a mental mantra that penetrated every corner of his burdened mind. The Caucus has made you whole. The pain is but a moment, and you shall be free.

As Julius meditated amid the deadly downpour, his mind wandered back to the task he had been assigned by Janus.

“Robert Thurman has been entrusted with too much.” Janus had said to Julius, lounging on an obsidian throne among the gibbering humans that served the leader of the Caucus. “The Caeleste cannot neutralize the Burst, or all our efforts will have been for naught.”

“What would you have me do?” Julius had managed to choke through the haze of pain that had blinded him. Janus had punished him much for his failure to apprehend Thurman the first time, and Julius had lain writhing on the ground with the eyes of the Hungered piercing his soul. It was as if they could sense how close Julius was to death, and wished to consume him in their diseased mania.

“You know what I had wished you could do, Julius. You failed.” Janus had said scornfully, his fierce anger permeating through the room, driving the occupants into a frenzy. He raised his hand, and the storm of their hysteria calmed to a simple squall.

“However, you are far too valuable to terminate now.” He said, leaning forward and laying his hand on Julius’ brow. As sudden as a light flickering out, Julius’ pain dissipated, and he managed kneel and genuflect before his master.

“I ask again, O great one, what you would have me do?” Julius had said reverently, exulting in the relief he felt body and soul.

“Robert Thurman has been sent by the Caeleste to make the Cure anew.” Janus said contemptuously. “They propose he travel back to the Apex, where the Caeleste’s power is weakest. This cannot be allowed to happen.”

“It shall not, my lord.” Julius replied, but Janus cut him off quickly.

“DO NOT call me that.” He growled. “Jupiter has reserved such titles for members of the Caeleste, and although I am no such member, I am still governed by the Concurrence in this form.”

“It shall be erased from my mind.” Julius quickly assured him. “Where shall you send me?”

“I would send you to the ruins of Connely Labs, to commence your pursuit of Robert Thurman.” Janus said, almost reverently. “It shall be done as soon as you feel you are ready.” Julius looked tentatively into eyes of his master.

“But, sir, would it not be easier to transport myself into the path of Thurman, so as to easily capture him and terminate his progress?” He asked, wary of how far across the line he was treading.

“Alas,” Janus sighed, weariness actually flashing across his face. “We have only enough capacity to transport you to the place you were taken from.” He glared at Julius, his bright blue eyes boring into Julius, who looked away speedily. “And Robert will have made a substantial amount of distance between you already.” He stood up suddenly, Hungered shying away from his sudden movement. “There is no more time. You must go now.”

Julius opened his eyes, drinking in his wet surroundings as the rain continued to fall, beating upon his now relaxed body. The Burst had created a strange reaction in the great forests of the East, turning them into miles upon miles of stone. They stood as somber sentinels, edifices of days gone by. Something to remind the scant inhabitants of Earth of the things that they had lost.

But few have lost as much as you have, Julius. Omnipotence crooned. Nobody can ever come close.

Once again, Julius ignored him, as he would until he knew exactly which Marvel spoke to him, and why he had been granted access to his thoughts.

Omnipotence scoffed. Nobody grants me access to anywhere. It said. I come and go as I please.

Julius arose from his spot in the clearing, shaking out his hair in a futile attempt to get the water out. He brushed off his leather pants, shook off his jacket, and walked back over to the small lean-to he had erected. Moving swiftly and precisely, he dismantled the shelter and placed the parts into a large pocket of the mottled green and brown backpack he had been entrusted with.

Robert was moving quickly, and if Julius didn’t catch him, then the pain would return.

Julius shuddered, one of the few gestures of emotion he allowed himself. He never wanted the pain to return. He would do anything, even kill his hero and friend, to stop the pain.

Shouldering his pack, he set off into the wilderness in pursuit of the one man that could bring peace to this tortured world.

* * *

Robert and Terrence were glad that they didn’t have to go hiking through a jungle, but the terrain they were crossing was easily just as dangerous. The Petrified Jungle was one of the hotspots of Hungered activity, and one had to be careful of many things. Rock had been dug up by the thousands in vain attempts to locate safe drinking water, and tripping over one could leave you both bruised and susceptible to the death falling down over their heads.

The rain beat relentlessly on their heads, stopped in their ravenous path by the watertight coats, hoods, and masks they wore. Both had the best Burst protection they could ever find in the post-Burst world, and they were indeed thankful for it. On their backs they carried black backpacks, filled to the brim with supplies, weapons, and medicine they would absolutely need on their journey.

Their journey would be long and arduous, indeed. Their first obstacle would be the Midwest, and the Midwest of the States was one of the areas where Hungered thrived by the millions, one of the few dusty places where the rain still fell infrequently; or, at least, infrequently enough for a population to be sustained by underground crops. They said that regular humans survived there for a time, living off the things they could grow, but that the thought of so many ripe humans living in close quarters drove thousands of their group Hungered. The Hungered now ruled the immense network of tunnels that peppered the empty wasteland. It was not a bright thought.

“Why exactly are we doing this?” Terrence asked, with not a little whining in his voice as he awkwardly clambered over rocks and boulders. Robert looked at him with exasperation and exhaustion, and Terrence quickly hung his head.
“Sorry,” He sighed. “I’m just so overwhelmed about what happened, and what still has to happen.” He shot a suspicious look toward Robert. “And why i’m not being told why this has to happen.”
Robert looked away, and sighed himself. “I told you, Terrence.” He said. “Diffusion Labs should still have enough equipment for us, in theory, to finish out the cure.”

“But how will we finish it out, if we don’t have our team and notes?” Terrence whined again, his grating voice in stark contrast to his bulky form.

Robert looked down, confusion hanging over his thoughts like the storm clouds that hung above them.

“I don’t think we’ll need them.” He said hauntingly.

“What do you mean?” Terrence asked, suddenly very curious. “What did you see in that sample you were looking at before it was blown to pieces?”

“I’m not entirely sure myself.” Robert replied, rubbing his temples as they walked on through the stone trees. “It was like, like…” He trailed off.

Terrence sighed, and jammed his walking stick into the ground a few times. Robert whirled around angrily.

“I don’t know, Terrence! The Insane God, whatever you call him, is the only reason we’re going on this stupid mission! Hasn’t he told you anything?” He shouted, blood pumping through his face, heating it up and chasing back the cold that had been creeping into his muscles.

Terrence looked away sullenly. “No,” He said darkly. “Not a word.”

“Then don’t argue with me.” Robert said sharply, and he turned around and stalked on.

You shouldn’t be so hard on him. Hunt told Robert reprovingly. You aren’t exactly being the most forthright person right now.

You can shut up. Robert shot back, attempting to put an edge to it. You’re the one who got me into this mess. And why can’t you talk to him for a change? Maybe I’m getting tired of your stupid riddles.

Terrence is nowhere near as… progressed as you are. I spoke to him out of necessity, but that necessity is no longer. Hunt replied.

Robert growled to himself, muttering where Hunt could put his necessity.

There’s not really any excuse for obscenities. Hunt said, somewhat pained. After all, if you wish for my help, you might wish to be a bit more respectful of your betters. After all, I may choose to not inform you of the large group of Hungered that have been following you for the last hour.

Robert immediately stopped in his tracks, and Terrence bumped into him, sending them both sprawling onto the rocks. Terrence grunted as a large rock drove the air out of his ample gut.

“Hey, watch it-” He started to complain after getting his breath back. Robert clamped his hand over the man’s mouth, listening intently to discern any other sounds beside the racket of the rain of the ground.

As he listened, he was slowly able to hear hooting sounds, coupled with loud laughter and shouts. They were coming from not far behind them, and they were absolutely getting louder.

Terrence pulled Robert’s hand away from his mouth. “What is it?” He whispered.

“We need to run. Now.” Robert said, pulling him shakily to his feet.

They started to sprint to their right, dodging boulders and trees in their path. They ran, huffing and puffing, for a long while, until Terrence finally fell to his knees. The big man’s face was red, and he was breathing heavily.

“We can’t stop!” Robert said, trying to pull him to his feet, but to no avail.

“I.. can’t… do… anymore.” Terrence choked out between huge gulps of air. The small air tubes that led out of his face mask could barely support the amount of air he needed.

Robert looked around wildly, the sounds of hooting and screaming continuing to increase in intensity.

Robert pulled out a shining steel machete about the length of his arm, with a gleaming blade and rubber handle. It was one of the few effective weapons available. Gunpowder and bullets were now a thing of the past, after so much time for the world to decay and use them up. Any guns that still existed would be in the hands of the Hungered. He hoped to whatever gods were actually real that this group of Hungered wasn’t one of them who did own such weapons. If they did, he wouldn’t stand a chance against them.

He dropped his pack onto the ground, and crouched into a fighting stance, much like the one that he had used in the fight against Drake.

“Get behind me!” He hissed to Terrence, who had gone pale at the sight of Robert’s preparations.

“You can’t possibly-” He blurted.

“I will sure as hail try!” Robert shouted back, waving the man to get up and do as he said. Grimly, Terrence got to his feet, pulled out his own weapon, and shrugged off his pack.

“I was going to say,” He said. “That you can’t possibly think you can do this alone.” Robert forced a smile.

“Glad to know that the man I know from all those years is still in there.” He said, patting the big man on the shoulder. Terrence crouched next to him, surprisingly balanced for his huge amount of girth. They stood there, listening to the shouts and screams of the pack come toward them.

In a few moments, the first of them passed into view. He was a thin, gaunt looking figure, with bushy black hair and a long, unkempt beard. He shambled toward them, cackling with a toothless mouth and raising his arms toward them and scraping his hands across the air. Robert and Terrence blanched, but not because of the figure’s pitiful physique.

They were terrified because he wasn’t wearing anything. The man was completely naked, with water dripping harmlessly down his scarred body. The rain was having no effect on him.

More members of his pack wandered towards them, and they were all the same. Every single Hungered was naked and unharmed. The rain rolled off their glistening bodies, falling to the ground as they continued to walk beneath the stormy sky. Many began shrieking and screaming at the sight of their prey, and they picked up their pace, dashing towards the two men.

“The rain isn’t hurting them!” Terrence cried, flinching back from the oncoming force. Robert grabbed his arm and pulled him back into their stance.

“Our machetes will!” He screamed.

NOW. Hunt screamed in his head.

Robert launched himself, bellowing his war cry, at the pack. His vision went red as he engaged the Hungered.

It was so easy. He was the wind, the fire, the force that cannot be stopped. He wielded his weapon like a sword, swinging in broad strokes, causing damage with every slice of the sharp blade. His first slash cut off the head of the bearded man, and he brought it around to stab another Hungered in the throat. Blood spurt forth from his wound, and he toppled to the ground, sliding neatly off the end of Robert’s machete as he brought it around to chop another Hungered’s scalp off. Hands grabbed for him, but he danced out of the way with poise and grace. His red eyes saw only the enemy, and he held the weapon like an extension of his body. He thrust, he chopped, he dodged. He was the wind, the fire, the force that could not be stopped.

He screamed as he felt rough teeth tear through his shoulder and into the flesh, and warm blood gushed from the wound. His vision deepened to a shade of scarlet, and he brought his machete back over his shoulder to stab the inflictor of his wound in the head. He yanked the machete out and whirled around, lopping off one of the Hungered’s arms. He screamed a guttural, animal cry, and began hacking at the body that lay before him. He didn’t think, he didn’t concentrate; he simply attacked.

Eventually he collapsed to the ground, lying on his back and breathing heavily, his vision returning to normal. He lay there for some time, ignoring everything, even his own pain. He became aware of the world when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Robert…” Terrence said with shock and awe. Robert looked up at him, and Terrence gestured to the ground around them. Robert sat up and looked, horrified by the scene before him

Twenty Hungered lay in an enormous pool of blood, many missing limbs or appendages, and all dead. The water on their bodies had turned to blood, and all bore gaping wounds.

Robert looked to the now unrecognizable body he had destroyed, and he felt revulsion build up in his throat. Had he done this?

Why, yes. Hunt told him. Yes you did. And it was necessary.

How was something like that necessary? Robert demanded, nearly screaming the words out loud if he hadn’t been so exhausted. How could such mindless slaughter be necessary?

Because it assessed your abilities. Hunt snapped. We needed to know if you could handle yourself.

Of course I can handle myself! Robert screamed in his head. I did it for years and years before you ever showed up! Robert bit back another retort as a searing pain shot through his shoulder. And now I’m injured, with our goal getting further and further away from us. And all for a huckin’ test.

NO. Hunt thundered in his head. Not all for a test.

“I think he’s right.” Terrence said shakily. “Look.” He pointed at Robert’s injured shoulder. Robert looked over.

The wound was covered in blood, but was slowly being washed away by the rain. It continued to burn, clouding Robert’s mind with the signals of pain.

And now the Burst is going to eat at me. Great. Thanks a lot. Robert sneered.

Mr. Thurman, will you forget your petty human emotions and just LOOK? Hunt gasped in exasperation. Robert looked back onto his shoulder, and realization slowly dawned on him.

The pain in his shoulder was disappearing.

As he watched, the water rolled off his shoulder and down into his clothes, wetness seeping across his torso; and yet, he felt no pain. Not a single twinge or stab. The wound itself was even sealing itself up, the flesh turning white and stretching across the gash. In a few moments, all that was left of the wound were a few drops of blood right above his collarbone, and even those disappeared from the rain.

“Robert?” Terrence asked, his face nearly pure white from the shock.

On a hunch, Robert sat up quickly and got to his feet, hands going to his hood. He undid the clasps that attached the garment to the face mask and yanked the mask away, throwing his hood back to let his hair out. He felt the rain fall on his head, felt it’s cold wetness on his scalp, but he felt nothing else. No pain, no searing sensation across his skin. He felt perfectly normal, and he very nearly jumped in the air from sheer exultation.

Very nice, Mr. Thurman, but you may wish to stop your friend from repeating your actions. He does not have the same immunity as you do. Hunt said coldly. Robert felt a pang of guilt at the way he treated Hunt, but he ignored it, remembering how frustrating Hunt had been. This little revelation should have been revealed to Robert long before this moment.

“Terrence!” Robert shouted, and Terrence stopped in his tracks, frozen in the motion of undoing his own clasps. He looked at Robert questioningly.

“You can still get hurt.” Robert told him, walking over and slowly pulling his hand away from his clasps. Terrence looked confused for a second, but then his gaze hardened, and he turned away, stomping his feet.

“Terrence…” Robert pleaded.

“Don’t.” Terrence replied hotly, holding a hand up while looking away. “Just don’t.”  Robert sighed.

“Well, we need to get going.” He said quietly, walking back over to their packs and picking his up. “Are you still with me?”

Terrence looked at him, and Robert saw anger and sadness flash over his grizzled features for a split second, but then his face softened. He sighed, then stumbled over and picked up his own pack, swinging it around and placing its burden on his shoulders.

“To the end.” He said, and Robert nodded.

They both walked off, leading the bloody clearing behind them.

* * *

Julius knelt down and ran his hand over the wound in the naked man’s skull, grimacing at the blood and gore.

These can’t be old. Omnipotence said, whispering in his normal way. Five or six hours at most. We’re gaining on them.

I. I am gaining on them. Julius replied tersely. You have no part in this.

Ah, but I do. Omnipotence replied, a bit of glee evident in his tone. Janus granted me this honor, and nothing you say or do, not even your silence, can take that away from me.

No? Julius replied, pulling out a small knife and holding it to his throat, the blade nicking the skin and drawing a small amount of blood. And what if, suddenly, I weren’t here anymore?

Omnipotence laughed. As strong as you are, Julius, you are still human. You have neither a Marvel’s strength or determination. Try as you might, you still cling to life like a babe clings to its mother’s breast.

Julius held the knife to his throat for a minute more, contemplating what it would feel like to slit his own throat. Then, with a sigh, he jammed it back into its sheath.

Go away. You know me too well. He said angrily.

Ah, but isn’t that the point of having a god in your mind? Omnipotence cackled, and then he was gone.

Julius trudged on in the rain, hot on the trail of Robert Thurman. As he walked, his mind turned to the dark days of the Raze, and the fearful things that haunted him still. The fearful things that had happened in this clearing.