Tim Marquitz - At The Gates

Fortunately, that wasn’t case. After an excruciating fifteen minutes, every tentative breath feeling like the last, the storm slowed, and then crept to an end. The snow disappeared as though it had never been. Darkness returned to chase away the preternatural light. I waited a few minutes before I thought about moving, just to be sure.

When I finally found the courage, I crawled out of the liner and tumbled into the now deeper grave. It was close to three feet lower than it had been before the storm. The walls on both sides had been chewed down about that much as well.

My stomach lurched as I examined the earth above our sanctuary. There was maybe an inch or two of ground left over the concrete liner that had rested above our heads. Had the storm lasted another five minutes, it would have killed us where we lay. Cold sweat tickled my scalp as I thought about how close we’d come to dying. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.

Then that’s when reality sunk in. The clouds had gone on for as far as I could see, in every direction. Nestled in the middle of town, the cemetery was surrounded by houses. As lucky as I had gotten, only because I knew what the storm could do, there would be thousands of people who didn’t make it. My exhilaration died with the thought of their end.

Trying not to vomit, I tugged Marvin out of the liner before helping him out of the grave. I gathered my stuff and climbed out behind him, my eyes not believing what they saw. My first choice of hiding places, the mausoleum had vanished, no trace of it left. Had I gone with my initial instincts, there’d be nothing left of me either.

The maintenance garage across the road was missing as well, in fact, so was the road. The ground level lowered by several feet, there was nothing but darkened dirt. There were no trees, no grass, no anything, just a blackened crater in place of what used to be the cemetery. Under the gentle light of the moon, it looked like an alien planet, barren and hostile.

Marvin hadn’t moved since we’d climbed out of our hole. He just stood there, a puppy dog look of confusion on his round face.

No words of wisdom to help him cope, I told him the only thing I could think of. “Go home, Marvin.”

We both stood there for another few minutes, just taking it all in. What had existed but a half hour before, was now gone forever. Wiped away without mercy, it was just plain not there anymore. In its place was a vast swath of emptiness.

When the nothingness became too much to bear, we both staggered off in different directions. He headed for home, or so I imagined, and I wandered off to find a teleporter to take me back to DRAC.

It was close to a mile from the cemetery that I came to the end of the crater. At its edge, a small group of people gathered and mourned. Shellshocked faces stared at the ruin of what had been their neighborhood just the night before. Their neighbors, friends, and family who had lived there had been erased from existence. In the span of minutes, the course of their lives had been horribly altered.

Ignoring their questions and shouted pleas for answers as they saw me emerge from the crater, I pushed my way past. There was nothing I could do for them. For me to save what was left, I needed to get to Heaven.

Right then, salvation wasn’t looking so good.

As I neared one of DRAC’s hidden gates, ready to make my way back to where Scarlett and Katon waited, I heard the crackling static of a telepathic connection open up inside my head.

Abraham’s quiet voice drifted into my brain. “Frank. It’s Abe. Where are you?”

Never quite able to answer in my head without getting a lot of superfluous thoughts jumbled together into the transmission, I told him aloud where I was. My brain engaged a split-second after that.

He’d called himself Abe.

In all the years I’d known him, he never once referred to himself as Abe. It had always been Abraham. In fact, I was probably the only person who did call him that. My gun was in my hand before I’d even completed the thought. Something was up.

Just a few feet from the back alley door that obscured the gate, a gentle wave of energy washed over me, signaling the portal had been activated. It hadn’t been by me.

Paranoia in high gear, I aimed my gun at the door and waited. The energy subsided after a moment and a gruff voice from the other side of the door called out to me.

“I’m coming out, demon. We have the old man, so don’t try anything funny or you’ll never see him again; at least not in anything resembling one piece.” The voice finished with a rough chuckle.

My heart thudded hollow in my chest as I realized how stupid I’d been. Abraham had tried to warn me and I’d figured it out too late. It had to be about the key piece.

Cold sweat tickling my scalp, I tied the end of my pillowcase bag into a sloppy knot and delayed for time.

“Who is it?” I sang.

“No games, demon. Either let me out peacefully, so we can speak face-to-face, or we kill your mentor.”

I waited until I heard the grumbled reply start, then tossed the bag onto the nearby roof. It landed with a muffled thump and I hoped, with all my heart, the vials survived.

Timed to cover the sound, I loudly muttered my agreement. “All right, all right!” It wasn’t the best of hiding places, but with humanity hunkered down awaiting the end, I figured the piece was safe enough. It had to better than having it on me.

The door creaked open and a furry snout peeked out from behind it, its muzzle pulled back in a vicious smile. The whitish lightning bolt fur on its forehead told me it was Rampage, the same werewolf who’d been carrying Adam’s skull when the weres jumped us; Grawwl’s right-pawed flunky.

His reddish-orange eyes locked onto mine. My gun still in my hand, pointed steady at his face, his smile slid away. I knew it was a bluff, but he couldn’t be sure. It was a satisfying moment of defiance, however futile.

“Do you really want to be responsible for the old man’s death?” he asked. He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t have to. With those few words, he knew he had me by the short and curlies. The fact he used one of DRAC’s gates was more than sufficient evidence to prove he told me the truth.

As much as I wanted to ventilate his smug lupine face, it wouldn’t help Abraham. Not that I expected mercy from the bastards. Certain they would kill Abe the second they got what they wanted, I could at least delay and hope to pull something out of my ass. My putting a bullet in Rampage would guarantee Abraham’s death, and it would be on my shoulders.

Shit. I hated having a conscience.

The stare down lasted only a second longer before I gave in and lowered my gun. I was only delaying the inevitable.

He crept out from behind the door. “Smart move, demon. Now put it away so we can get going.”

A bit surprised he didn’t take it from me, I certainly wasn’t gonna complain. Though on the other hand, not disarming me meant they didn’t think I was a threat. They had to believe they held all the cards or they wouldn’t risk leaving me armed. That blew a big hole in my dreamy concept of hope.

“Take me to your leader.” My pistol stuffed into my pants, I gestured to the gate. Might as well get it over with.

Rampage chuckled and turned his back on me as he went and stood inside the gate. Nothing to do but follow, I stepped onto the pentagram right after. Uncomfortable standing so close to the werewolf, I inched back as far as I could go, making sure I faced him the whole time. Once we were both situated, the gate throttled to life and zipped us on down the line.

We appeared inside the secure entryway inside the main DRAC headquarters. My heart skipped a beat as the room came into focus. It wasn’t secure anymore.