Chain of Command

The clan stared into the valley below.

Grey without contrast save for blackened husks of trees, bark drawn tight across rotting frames. A grey worm of a river trailed through the vista. Like a sloppy cut of surgeon. They stared at the smidgen of smoke down below. A campsite. A lone refugee from an afraid new world. Wind blew, toxic wind so said the rumours among the camps up north.

A man stood at the front the pack. A figurehead of their boat, violent forerunner, alpha male establishing dominance. He surveyed the land through a grimy telescope, the insidious spyglass, distance made null. Dull bronze and glass and-

How many are there boss? said one

Boss brought his eye down from the scope. The tube of far sight counts four he said, coughing grit from his mouth in the harsh gust.

That cant be right said Lieutenant

What?

I said-

I heard what you said. You don’t dispute my leadership here. The man closed shut the spyglass. He closed shut his eye to a distant world. He turned on the heel of his foot and faced his lieutenant.

We move at dawn. Four is an easy target.

It aint four.

The fuck you say?

That family. The one in the valley. They aint four no more.

Who that arrival then an-

A kid. They picked up a kid

Silence. The clan knew that Lieutenant had messed up. No one interrupted boss. No one questioned his judgment or skill with the tube of far sight. He wasn’t the first lieutenant and few thought he’d be the last. The five other members started to back away. The boss was renown for his anger, a bear awoken from slumber early.

The boss cleared his throat. A kid?

Yes boss.

Lieutenant. A child ain’t concern. Is just more meat. That’s all.

He has a gun

You know this for sure?

I saw it

And proof?

The Lieutenant stayed silent. The boss smirked.

It wouldn’t matter if you did. A kid with a gun is useless. He’ll be damned if he knows how to use it

Boss-

No. I’ve heard enough. You’d best get your head in place Lieutenant. Or I will rip it from your neck and piss up into your skull.

It wasn’t an empty threat. Boss had done it before.

---

They camped on the ridge of the valley that night, demonic watchers above their kingdom of grey. The clan ate carefully, picking close to the bones, slurping the bottoms of their rusted cans from the looted supermarket. They spoke of conquest, sexual and violent nature unhinged. The valley below was pure black, save for one solitary campfire. The family, their target, the hunt. Pitch pure black, a black that had not been seen since the days before light and fire, all vision knew only black and its infinite reach.

Lieutenant looked around at the clan. At the strange family he had associated with. Never would he someone. Never would he rape a woman. Never would drink blood and pray to the heathen gods of the surveillance camera, the suburban minimart, the office park idols and forgotten remnants of those who had come before. A rumbling off in the distance. Earthquake. It passed beneath like a giant beasts hungry stomach. Growling for more. Like Lieutenant. One day the earth would split open and swallow all us sinners whole. The teacher would wipe this chalkboard of a world clean, a failed momentary equation and start again.

Hey Lieutenant. It was Boss rasping this at him. Here to snap his neck. Or to make amends. It could have been both in a way

Hello Boss

I want to apologise for my behavior earlier. How very improper.

Okay Boss

But I also want to tell you this...

Silence between them. Boss looked off at the light of the far away campfire

Don’t ever undermine me in front of the clan Lieutenant.

Undermine?

Don’t FUCK with me. Don’t question my choices in front of them. Bring it up with me elsewhere. I know what you think now. Played your hand too early.

Do you hear yourself Boss? I don’t want them to go in there tomorrow and be shot by some kid with a peashooter

Silence again and the boss stepped closer to the edge of the cliff, looking at the campfire.

They remind you of yourself don’t they?

Who?

The family down there

I suppose they do. How long has it been Boss?

You think I count the years, the months and the weeks and the days but I don’t Lieutenant.

Maybe we should Boss.

No point. If there is no point to something we don’t do it, do we? Doing things that have no point is a sign of madness. We aint that. Today was no different from yesterday and the day before that. We may be monsters in their eyes but that does not mean we are crazy. Counting the days will make you mad. Remember that Lieutenant.

---

The farm. The big trees full of apples. The creek full of tadpoles and reeds. The disused tractor left lying a field like a rusted animal. Life. Color. Contrast. A dull resonating thud. The ground shook. Then a blinding light and a series of smaller shivers of earth and sound.

A red glow on the horizon.

A boy stared as this transpired. Transfixed on the incandescent glow of the horizon. The sky began to tinge orange as though some crazed painter was emphasizing a place upon the world.

Get inside said a man. Gathering the boy up in his unchanging arms, rushing him inside and closing the door to the rapidly changing world.

What’s happening dad?

I don’t know. But whatever it is, we’re getting away from it. Get a bag. Pack clothes. Warm things.

The lights aren’t working Dad

I know. Do what I said

Okay then...

The boy climbed the stairs, staring at the stopped clocks. It was late. Stargazing. A little past one. He looked down at his father on the lower floors. They ran the dusty drive, the sky splitting as the skies disappeared to show the truth behind stars.. He looked up at his father as they ran. A face filled with worry. He would remember that face. And he would remember it being eaten.

And in time he forgot the face. And the farm.

And in time, you just forget everything that isn’t the here and now and you begin to focus so completely on surviving that it’s all you know how to do.

---

I can't let another child lose their father thought the Lieutenant. Not three kids. A mother could not care for three kids alone. Maybe before but not after the Contact. But he could not hold off the attack. The tribe would strike. Raising their spiked clubs to club an old man to death. And then consumption.

The sound of snapping like bone. Trees off in the distance were falling. The forest, collapsing. Like everything else before it, returning to nothing. To ash. To grey.

I can't let him do this.

Huh said a tribesmember from the dark of sleep

Nothing the Lieutenant muttered

If ever a word described this scared new world that was it. Nothing. For ever and ever and ever.

---

Now stay quiet you clumsy fuckers and we’ll get them as they clean up the campsite.

After sleep had claimed Lieutenant like a vice grip it had been the honks of a migratory bird that had called him back from the nightmares.

The tribe lay in wait. Mud on face. Twigs in pockets, leaves on jacket, like vengeful forest spirits of the earth.

Okay move. Boss said it.

They jumped up and ran through the dead forest. With speed. With skill. A breath exhaled from the planet as wind tore through the ash woods. The tribe moved to a belly crawl. Coming to the small clearing where the creek passed by. The still smoking campfire. The mother drying clothes. The father checking a shotgun.

Everyone, crawl back to the rock we saw. We talk approach

They all did. Slow crawl backwards. That sat near the creek. Further upstream, far from sight, from earshot.

So boys here’s the plan. Lieutenant you-

No I ain’t doing a goddamn thing boss

You better not be fucking with me Lieutenant. You know better know than to do that.

We aint attacking that family. Even if we did a spiked club aint got shit on a shotgun

The smell of ash in the air. Water with ash coating on it. The wind. Water. A punch. Landed right on target. Boss swung again at Lieutenant. But missed. He pretended to hit left but instead went right. He caught Lieutenant in a headlock. Lieutenant had to get out. The tribe stood back. Silent. Uncaring. Whoever won was the new boss. Simple as that.

Boss grabbed Lieutenant. Led him to a tree. Drove his face into it. Ran his face up and down the rough bark. Splinters. Cuts.

To be injured was worse than death. A broken rib may never heal. A broken leg made you easy prey. Lieutenant pulled his spiked bat and swung wildly. Hoping. Needing to hit him. He connected with his left arm. A sickening quelch. Like the sound of dogfood being dumped from a rusty can, ready for eating.

You son of a bitch! My arm!

Lieutenant went to pull out the club. An emptying of space, a blur of motion. A twinge of immense pain and a then a dull thud, not unlike the one heard years ago. He glanced at his left hand, gripping the club, ring finger now missing. Boss held a knife, sheath on ground.

Dull thud found. The club fell to the ground.

Lieutenant leaned against the blood stained tree, Boss stood shakily in the shallows of the river. They sized each other up. Faces with long blooded scars. Torn arms. Broken beings.

You know Lieutenant. I think this clan ain’t big enough for the both of us

Thinking is a dangerous thing to do Boss. Gives you ideas you know.

Up yours chickenshit

A lunge like that of an animal. Nothing more separated them. Boss lunged with the knife. The glint reflected and refracted the light, endless repetition. It had been like before the disaster, and continued to be like this. And it would go on forever. Just violence. Lieutenant sidestepped. A thud. The knife met tree. Boss knew he had lost.

Wrestling like bears. Like animals. The fell into the creek, breaking the muddy ash like skin to find cold water. The ash clung to their clothes. The sludge enveloping. Lieutenant grabbed an arm. Could have been any arm. Pushed. A snap. Broken. He grabbed by another arm, felt the small of the Boss’ back and forced him underwater. A type of baptism or rebirth. Boss struggled. But in a minute, he body stopped struggling. The convulsions stopped. As did breathing. As did existence. Water broke around them, swirled into open cuts and wounds.

Lieutenant raised himself above the body. He looked down at the wet corpse. In time he would forget everything before and now. He knelt in the creek and took the spyglass. Far sight was something he needed now.

So Lieutenant…Boss I mean

Yeah?

What are we eating tonight?

What? Lieutenant rose, the new Boss.

We’re not eating the family. So what instead?

Lieutenant on his knees, the water breaking around him. He wheezed, gasping air in hard, looking at the monsters of men around him and he glanced down at Boss’ corpse, licking his lips.

#horror #postapocalyptic #disaster #mcarthyesque #writing #fictions