Philip Simpson - Tribulation

Before Sam had time to react, the man screamed out an alarm.

C ursing under his breath, Sam darted through the dirty sheet that marked off the sleeping area from the rest of the warehouse. It fluttered about him like washing in a fierce wind, and he used the momentary distraction to draw his other sword — the long to the Wakizashi’s short. His Katana. His most treasured possession and an object that was closer to him than any brother. Sam’s instincts told him that another man, fully awake with adrenaline coursing through his body, was just past the sheet.

Sam knew exactly where the man was; knew with absolute certainty that the man had a shotgun that was even now being swiveled in his direction. He could even smell the iron pellets that the shotgun was loaded with. Sam could take no risks. A shotgun with iron shells at close range could seriously incapacitate even him.

Both swords emerged out of the sheet even before Sam had, looking like a silvery extension of the material. The man armed with the shotgun probably wasn’t even aware that death was upon him, only that something vaguely man-shaped was moving through the sheet. His finger was on the trigger and he’d almost rotated the barrel of his gun in Sam’s direction, ready to fire, when the blades punctured him. The man up at the figure that suddenly hulked over him, flinching from the fiery eyes; glancing down at the two blades protruding from his chest, he coughed once and then promptly died.

Sam didn’t give the man a second look. Kicking the body off his swords, he sprinted in the direction of the cage. He gave into his anger, unleashing it, using it to make him faster, stronger. He would need it now. His senses told him that every human within the warehouse was now awake and alert to the danger. Even now, he could hear others raising the alarm. Despite the confusion and uncertainty, they’d pick up weapons with every intention of using them, and shotguns and rifles, all loaded with the dreaded iron, were being cocked right now.

He had the upper hand, because while he knew where they were, the humans were completely unaware as to his whereabouts. Sam used the advantage, doing the unexpected. He darted over to the main wall again and followed it, knowing that at least this way he wouldn’t advertise his presence every time he went through one of the makeshift barriers. That had always been his plan, sadly interrupted.

If he followed the wall around, he would eventually get to the cage which was his ultimate goal. But he had one detour to make first. It wasn’t part of his mission but he felt strangely compelled. His nose told him when he was close and he left the relative safety of the wall and moved into what was the food preparation area. The two chefs were still in attendance around the huge pot, but instead of being armed with ladles and spoons, they now had weapons in their hands. One — a young, nervous looking man with greasy looking hair — had a rifle. The other, — huge, pot-bellied, with a scruffy beard — clutched a huge meat cleaver in one meaty fist. Both had blood-stained aprons wrapped around their waists.

Both sets of eyes bulged hugely when they caught sight of Sam moving swiftly in their direction. The big man only had time to let out a cry of warning before Sam was upon him. The man swung his meat cleaver but Sam ducked under it as easily as if it was wielded by a child, plunging his Wakizashi into the man’s chest. Without even looking, Sam thrust out with his Katana, slicing the blade straight through the neck of the other man, even as he brought his rifle up to fire.

He could hear the younger man gurgling on his blade, struggling to free himself. He managed to fire his rifle but it was not even pointed in Sam’s direction and passed harmlessly off to one side. The bigger man was face-to-face with him. Sam could see the disbelief and horror on his face and was glad. He had a special bone to pick with these two, having watched them for the last few nights.

What they had done was unspeakable. Evil. If Sam had given them the opportunity, they would’ve probably tried to justify it by saying that their hunger drove them to it. That only the strongest survived and it was their right as the dominant ones to determine the fate of those beneath them. Regardless of their argument, they were wrong. So very wrong. To prey upon other humans and not just prey upon them. To feed upon them. It was abhorrent. Just the thought of it made Sam want to be sick and he was so very happy to put an end to them.

He smiled into the fat man’s face even as the glow of life faded from his eyes, then shoved the disgusting copse off his blade. At the same time, he withdrew his shorter blade from the younger man’s neck with a quick jerk of his hand. The man toppled to the ground clutching his neck, choking on his own life blood as it spurted out between his fingers.

Every single human who was part of this group deserved to die for what they had done. They may not have been directly responsible for the killing, butchering and cooking like these two, but they were certainly guilty of partaking in the product of these labors. They would pay for their sins. Sam would make them pay. After all, wasn’t this the task that Gabriel had entrusted to him? To protect and save the innocents.

A part of him wanted to watch the younger man die, but that was his anger talking. He couldn’t afford to get distracted now. He had a job to do. Focused now, he became aware of the confused shouts all around him. He sensed that the cannibalistic humans were all around him. They weren’t sure where he was exactly but they were narrowing it down. He didn’t have long.

The camping stove upon which the two chefs had been cooking was still alight. Sam kicked the cauldron with its horrifying contents off the stove, careful to avoid being splashed. Moving quickly, he sheathed both swords, turned off the stove and disconnected it from the large gas cylinder standing nearby. He toppled the cylinder onto its side, closed his eyes for a moment to determine the proximity of most of the humans and then kicked the cylinder towards them. Just before the rolling cylinder disappeared from his sight beneath one of the makeshift sheets that was used as a room dividers, he grabbed the rifle lying on the ground, sighted it quickly and pulled the trigger.

The outcome was predictable and impressive. A fireball erupted outwards as the tank exploded, immediately setting fire to the nearby sheet. Sam didn’t have to use his enhanced senses to know the consternation this caused. He could hear someone screaming and knew that every armed human was now making for the cause of the disruption. As distractions went, it was a simple but highly effective one.

Confident that it would keep them busy for a few moments, he dropped the rifle and sprinted for the wall again, drawing his swords as he moved. Sam found the wall without trouble and moved along it rapidly. He hit the corner, emerged from behind another sheet and suddenly found himself face to face with the cage. The occupants failed to note his appearance, along with the two guards, as every single face was looking in the direction of the explosion.

It was almost too easy. Sam concentrated and hurtled towards the guards, a deathly blur. Within moments, they were both lying at his feet, blood pooling underneath them, dead before they even knew something was upon them. He darted towards the door, careful not to touch it directly, sensing the iron of which it was composed. A thick steel chain secured the door to one of the ribs of the cage. Sheathing the Wakizashi at his hip, he thrust his Katana through the loop, using it as a lever in an attempt to break the chain. He’d rehearsed this previously knowing what the cage was secured with, but had misjudged the thickness of the chain. This one was much thicker than the one he’d practiced with. A normal Katana would have snapped under the strain — but his was not a normal Katana. It was made of a dense iron from a meteorite and forged specifically for him, much stronger and heavier than a regular steel Katana. He used it as a pry bar.