the end pt.2

8/9/2019 The End Pt.2

http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/the-end-pt2 1/21

TheEnd

By: D. Booyer

2Part 2: Madness

8/9/2019 The End Pt.2


The EndPt.2:

Madness

By: D. Booyer

The Messenger awakened in a well lit room devoid of

furniture. The floor was soft and the walls were hung with

thick padding. It had been a long time since The Messenger

had been aware of, well, anything. The Messenger had no

concept of self, and did not even think of itself as having

gender. The Messenger simply was, and that was enough. As

The Messenger's head cleared it took note of the sounds of theworld around it. The noise made by the madmen in the

neighboring cells had increased, but there was no sound of

guards coming to quiet them.

“Just as well,” The Messenger thought out loud, “who

better than the inmates to run an asylum. Yes, the inmates. To

be honest they who ran it before weren't much better at it, no,

not really.” The Messenger laughed at this, then stoppedabruptly. There was important work to be done, very

important. God had spoken! He had told his messenger what it

must do. Yes, important work indeed. This night was not the

first time God had spoken to The Messenger. No, oh no, there

had been other times. Yes, sinners to be punished, very

important work indeed. The Messenger remembered the first

time. Its parents had sinned. Oh how they had sinned, the

naughty things they had done. The things It had endured attheir hands. But they had gotten one thing right, they always

called it It , and It remembered fondly their blood as it drip,

drip, dripped; So warm.

The Messenger sighed as it went to the wall were it

pried away the loose corner of one of the padded panels to

reveal its hidden stash of various useful looking items. They

had been procured on the daily walks The Messenger was

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allowed. The staff were watchful, very watchful, for any sort

of misstep. Watchful, but they didn't watch its feet. No, never

its feet. Small items proved easy to hide between ones toes. It

knew this day would come, and come it had. Ah yes, thiswould do. Bend here, straighten here, a twist and a click, and

the lock slid open.

Ah yes, the asylum, the nut hatch, the mad house, the

booby bin, so full of sin. Where there was sin, there were

sinners. The halls were empty with the exception of the

screams of the sinners, they knew what must come. A trip to

the boiler room, a twist of this knob, a spin of this wheel, a roll

of duck-tape here then out the front door and along the walks.

It didn't even flinch as a loud explosion rocked the trees lining

the long drive, or the flash of light that settled to a rapid

flickering. The screams had gone now. There was nothing but

the crackling from behind and the slap of The Messenger's feet

to break the night's calm. A few hours walk found The

Messenger in the local department store. A new identity, yes,

and a bike ride to the next town awaited it. The Messenger hada bus to catch.

*****

Jim Basset was awakened by a sharp pain in his back,

the camping pad did little to spare him from the hard rock of

the cave floor. To his astonishment an odd feeling he had not

felt before accompanied the ache in his back. It was a feelingof dread, like someone was sneaking up on him. Jim had

never, in all his forty-three years, felt anything like it. He

groaned as he rolled over, trying in vain to find a comfortable

position, and was startled by a sweet melodious voice.

“Having trouble sleeping?” The voice belonged to a

young, vibrant woman with shoulder length brown hair. She

was holding a pillow and smiling sweetly, “I brought you an

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extra pillow, it should help.”

“Thank you Sam,” Jim said as she tucked the pillow

under his back for him to lean against as he rested.

“Any time,” she said, “thank you again for stopping for me.”

“Couldn't just leave you on the side of the road could

we?”

“I guess not,” she said as she turned away, “but thank

you anyway.”

Samantha Green was from out of town. She had been

visiting her cousin's farm when the end came. Jim had

happened to look down an old dirt road as he passed, and seen

her struggling up the road in her embroidered overalls and

carrying a worn duffel bag that was obviously too heavy for

her. Jim had signaled the other vehicles to stop and went to

pick her up. Jim could see the smile fade as Sam turned away.

This was not surprising. Among the younger survivors, each

had their own way of dealing with the sadness they all felt.

Samantha tried putting a good face on things, and she tried tokeep herself busy by helping out as best she could.

After a few more minutes restlessness on the hard

ground, Jim decided to get up. This, of course, was not as

simple as it sounded. Jim's bad leg made getting off the hard

ground a difficult ordeal involving more pain. He had to use

the cavern wall and his cane for enough leverage to pull

himdelf off the cold floor. This was followed by a short break

to allow the pain in his back and knee to subside.The chamber they were in served as a refuge for the

twenty-eight people who were all that, from this area at least,

had survived the end of the world. It was large and deep

enough underground to muffle the noise from the impacts on

the surface, if only slightly. Natural pillars had formed where

stalagmites and stalactites had fused together after the

thousands of years of dripping water. Quartz in the stone walls

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and calcium crystals decorating the pillars made the chamber a

breathtaking site. A small side tunnel led to an underground

river that provided a good source of fresh water, filtered and

chilled to perfection by the earth's loving embrace. Theunderground river ran through the side passage, rushing

through a shallow ravine it had cut into the stone. It went

underground again not far from were it surfaced. Just above

where it dove back into the depths of the earth was a small

chamber that opened into the larger chamber. The river

flowing beneath the chamber served to cool it and Bill had

decided to use the chamber as a sort of pantry.

Jim adjusted his pants, patted the pocket where he kept

the letter from his wife that was his one prized possession, then

walked to the mouth of the passageway that led to the surface.

He found John Williams sitting on the side of the walkway.

“You feel it too?” Jim asked as he approached the one-

time sheriff.

“Like the icy fingers of impending doom?” he asked,

shaking his head, “Yea, I feel it.”“It's like something, or someone is out of place,” John's

wife Jaime said as she walked out of the passageway, “we have

been taking turns patroling the passageway and this chamber

all night.”

So it is morning then?” Jim asked with a yawn as he sat

down next to the sheriff.

“If you can call it that,” Jaime said darkly with a look

back up the tunnel, “The wind has died down and the impactsare less frequent, but the sky is still black as pitch. You can't

tell by looking at the sky, but yes, it is morning.”

“How can you tell?” Jim asked, tired from a restless

night's sleep.

“John's watch,” Jaime replied, “he never takes the thing

off.”

“Oh,” Jim said.

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“You OK?” John asked.

“Not really,” Jim said knuckling his back, “didn't sleep

well last night”

“I could imagine,” John said, “I noticed you had a hardtime getting up, we will have to do something about that.”

“Thanks,” Jim once more felt ashamed. The last thing

he wanted was to be a burden. Things were going to be hard

enough without a broken old man holding the others back. “We

need to make everyone comfortable though. I have a feeling

we will be here for a while, a long while.”

“Hey, it's no problem,” Jamie said as she sat down next

to her husband, “But you are right. If this is going to be our

home, we need to make it comfortable.”

“So,” Jim said, changing the subject, “Have you been

patrolling all night?”

“No, we took turns with Joshua and Bill” John said.

“What about Sally?” Jim asked.

“Are you kidding?” Jamie laughed, “She is about as

intimidating as a marshmallow.”Jim couldn't help but smile at the thought of his pretty,

dark haired friend patrolling the passageway in her sun dress,

“Did you find anything unusual while you were patrolling?”

“Yes, actually,” John said running a hand through his

hair, “Nothing that would cause this feeling, just something

odd. There was a deer in the cave last night. It ran off down

one of the side passages.”

“A deer?” Jim asked incredulously.“Yea, I know,” John said, “I could hardly believe it

either and I saw it. Joshua said he saw some other tracks as

well.

“Wow,” Jim said, then a sudden thought struck him,

“other than the sky, how does it look on the surface?”

“Dark mostly,” John answered, “I think the area around

us only took a few light impacts, but it is hard to tell for sure.”

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“OK, when things calm down a little more out there I

would like to see if the park's maintenance building is still

standing. We could use some tools if we are going to turn this

cave into our home.”“I hadn't thought of that, “ John said, “We will keep an

eye on that and let you know when things have settled down

enough to go out.”

“OK, Thanks,” Jim said scratching his side were his

shirt had twisted under him.

“That reminds me,” Jaime said noticing Jim's

scratching, “Bill wanted to see you, he said something about a

surprise. He is over by that chamber we stored the

nonperishable food in. He had us bring a few things down

from the semi trailer on our last patrol so I think he is getting

ready to make breakfast. John and I are just going to get

changed then we will join you there.”

“Sounds good,” Jim said, “I don't suppose coffee

survived the end of the world did it?”

“Sadly, no,” Jaime said.“Figures,” Jim sighed as he stood up, “see you at

breakfast.”

“OK,” John said as he and Jaime walked over to were

they had put their belongings.

Jim made his way through the cavern watching his

footing carefully as he went. It took him five minutes to make

his way to the chamber beside the side passage where he saw a

tall, athletic man setting up the camp stove and shuffling boxesin and out of the smaller chamber where food was kept.

“Jamie told me the bad news,” Jim said as he

approached the man.

“What bad news?” Bill asked.

“No coffee”

“Oh come on, it's not the end of the world,” Bill said

with a wry grin, “Oh, wait. It is isn't it.”

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“Yep”

“Oh, well,” Bill said as he opened another box, “I guess

a good breakfast will have to do. It should be ready in about

thirty minutes.”“Anything I can help with?” Jim asked.

“Nope,” Bill said with a smile, ushering Jim to one of

the camp chairs that was set up around one of the three folding

picnic tables, “just sit back and let me do my thing.”

After shuffling through a few more boxes Bill began

sitting ingredients out on the table that he was using as a food

preparation area. It had been set up on some flat stones to give

it some extra height. He lit the camp stove and moved to his

makeshift counter-top to begin chopping some fresh vegetables

that had been on the refrigerated truck.

“For now we eat like kings,” Bill said with a sad look

on his face, “That will not last long though. I took an inventory

of what was on the truck this morning. It is mostly vegetables

and milk, things that will not last long even if refrigerated

properly. We really can't afford to let it go to waste. In a week and a half the vegetables will go bad, the milk not long

afterward. There is some active culture yogurt, that is a

blessing. We did get kind of lucky, one of the grade school

science teachers ordered a culture of Rennet. It was on the

truck too.”

“What is Rennet?” Jim asked.

“It is used to make cheese,” Bill said as he began

cracking eggs into a large bowl, “i guess she was going to useit as a science project or something. I'm glad she did, we can

use it to turn a large part of the milk into cheese. It will keep

longer that way.”

“So, you learned to make cheese in culinary school?”

“No,” Bill replied, “My aunt had a dairy farm, she

taught me to make it when I was kid. She was the main reason

I decided to go to culinary school. I used to spend my

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summers at her farm milking cows and making cheese and

butter to sell at the farmers market. It was great.”

“So,” Jim asked, finally noticing the big bowl and high

quality cooking utensils Bill had been using, “where did youget the big bowl?”

“I took a few moments to run through the kitchen store

next door to the farm supply” Bill shrugged, “Just felt like a

good idea at the time. The knives, however, are my own

personal set. No cook in his right mind would go anywhere

without them. I did get a set for someone else to use if anyone

else needs to cook. Which reminds me, I have something for

you. Come see me after breakfast.”

“OK,” Jim said.

“I also got some seeds while I was at the farm supply

store.” Bills grin widened with excitement, “Jamie is going to

help me set up an herb garden. So whatever we do find to eat

down hear, it won't be bland.”

Soon John and Jaime arrived and joined the

conversation accompanied by Joshua. Sally emerged fromBill's pantry where she had, apparently, been helping him

inventory supplies. Not long afterward the other survivors

followed, drawn by the sizzling and warm smells of breakfast

that had filled the chamber. The first two to arrive were handed

apples and recruited to help serve breakfast. This turned out to

be a young, scraggly haired boy named Jeremy and his sister

Cathy. They were the children of the town's head librarian.

They said they wouldn't mind serving, but they both lookedlongingly at the tasty looking omelets Bill was plating. The

rest of the survivors were served first. After they were served

Bill served his five friends himself before joining them. None

of the others had chosen to join them at their table so the six

friends ate in relative privacy. Most of the younger survivors

took their plates a short distance away and ate in silence.

“They are a quiet bunch,” Bill said.

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“They are in shock,” Jamie said, “It won't last long.”

“We need to get organized before they get

comfortable,” Jim put in, “if there is no clear organization

things will soon break down into total chaos.”“So, how do we do that?” Bill asked.

“Well, first we need to find out what we have to work

with,” Jim said, “what kinds of skills we have in our group.

Then we need to assign roles for everyone suited to those

skills. We need to let each individual know they are important

to our little community. Bill here is obviously in charge of

food, while John and Jamie can be looked to for safety and

security. Joshua is great with anything mechanical,” Joshua

raised an eyebrow at this, “ Don't give me that look Joshua I

went to school with you. I remember your science fair projects,

and you were always tinkering with something. Sally was a

teacher, and probably the best to handle finding out who is

skilled in what.”

“Sounds like you gave this a lot of thought,” John said.

“I didn't get much sleep,” Jim said apologetically, “Ihad a lot of time to think while I was staring up at the

stalactites. I also thought it would be a good idea to get

everyone together later, sort of a community meeting. I

thought it would be a good way for us all to get to know one

another.”

“Well,” Jaime chided, “sounds like we have a plan then.

Perhaps we should keep you up more often.”

“No, thank you,” Jim said, rubbing his aching neck.“That reminds me,” Bill said, getting up and walking

over to the pantry chamber, “I was going to give this to you

last night, but you were asleep by the time Sally and I

finished.” Bill emerged from the chamber a few moments later

with a full looking hikers pack. On the front the name 'J.

Basset' was written on the fabric name tag with a sharpie.

“Thank you,” Jim managed to croak, “Thank you.”

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*****

The Messenger sat with a plate cradled on its knees.Food was a necessary evil, one of a few inescapable worldly

things It regularly engaged in. The Messenger didn't enjoy the

thing on the plate, It never did. It ate mechanically, stuffing the

fluffy, warm thing into Its mouth, just managing to choke it

down. The Messenger looked over to where the old one sat

with his sycophants. They seemed to be enjoying their meal.

Would that it were their last, but that would have to wait. A

little while longer and the time would be right. It could punish

them all then. The messenger would be patient, and the

opportunity would present itself. Yes, the time would come

and the blood of sinners would add to the incessant drip, drip

dripping in the dark, in the cold. Let them compound their sin,

The Messenger would soon bury them with it.

*****

The day progressed slowly, time seemed to crawl for

Jim as he watched the others go about their work. Sally and

Joshua began going around the makeshift camp talking to each

of the survivors and informing them of the upcoming meeting.

It was decided it would be held during dinner and Bill said he

would try his best to scrape together something good to eat.

Bill finished organizing the groups meager supplies andset to work with his plan to make cheese. He rounded up a few

volunteers with the help of Joshua and Sally, and started

hauling milk down from the truck. John and Jaime took turns

patrolling the passageway and helping settle everyone into their

new home. Jim opened his new pack and found to his delight

that the clothing within would fit him. He hung a blanket

between two of the chamber's columns near his pallet. He

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changed into a pair of loose fitting, blue sweat pants and a

green, pocketed t-shirt. He was careful to place his precious

letter safely in the pocket of the t-shirt. The pack also contained

a pocket knife, a shaving kit, and a supply of over-the-counter naproxen-sodium tablets. Jim gladly took a few of the latter

and sat down on the edge of the walkway. He took the letter

out of his pocket and reread it a couple times before carefully

refolding it and placing it back in the pocket of his t-shirt.

After a half hour the pills took effect and the pain in Jim's

joints had subsided considerably. He decided to stroll over to

were Bill was hard at work over a large, steaming pot. His

helpers where hard at work opening individual cartons of milk

and emptying them into a second pot while a third was cooling

on the makeshift counter. Jim looked in the second pot to see

the congealed contents sitting in a cloudy, yellowish liquid.

“Um,” Jim said looking concerned, “Is it supposed to

look like that?”

“Oh good,” Bill said looking over Jim's shoulder, “I was

worried it wouldn't work. Processed milk doesn't usuallymake the best cheese.”

“So it is supposed to look like that?” Jim asked as Bill

began cutting the congealed white mass.

“Oh, yes,” Bill said transferring the pot to the stove and

removing the first. He added a cupful of liquid to the warm

milk, “The white part is the curd, that is what will become the

cheese. The yellow whey will be drained off and disposed of.

I just need to keep it warm until after it is kneaded. Then wecan store it safely.”

“Oh,” Jim said, “So, what kind of cheese is it?”

“Mozzarella,” Bill said as he gently stirred the whey as

it warmed.

“Cool, looks good.”

“Ha,” Bill said, “Not yet, but it will when I am done.

Thanks though.”

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“I'm sure it will. Well,” Jim said, scratching his head, “I

think I will go see what John is up to.”

“OK. Hey,” Bill said tossing Jim a small, brown carton

of milk, “One for the road.”“Don't you need this for the cheese?” Jim asked,

catching the carton with his free hand.

“It's fine,” Bill went back to his stirring, “Besides, its

chocolate. You can't make cheese with chocolate milk.”

“Well, thanks,” Jim said happily, “I love chocolate

milk.”

“Enjoy,” Bill said as Jim hobbled off with his milk.

“Will do,” Jim waved the small carton as he walked

toward the mouth of the passageway that led to the surface.

On his way he spotted a young man with short,

unkempt hair. He was huddled next to a stalagmite with a

distant look on his face. Jim walked over to him and greeted

him, “Hello,” he said warmly, “You alright?”

“Hmm? Yea I'm OK,” The young man couldn't be more

than sixteen.“My name is Jim, by the way,” Jim said smiling.

“I'm Jason,” The young man said not meeting his eye.

“Well, Jason,” Jim said, “Nice to meet you, is

something bothering you?”

“I'd rather not talk about it, if its OK with you,” Jason

said his face growing dark.

“Alright,” Jim said handing Jason the carton of

chocolate milk, “If you feel like talking later you know where Ilive. Feel free to stop by if you are in the neighborhood,” the

corners of Jason's lips twitched upwards momentarily, “Ha,

knew there was a smile in there somewhere.”

“Thanks for the chocolate milk,” Jason said.

“No problem,” Jim said as he hobbled off once more.

Something needed to be done to raise the group's

morale, perhaps one of the others would have an idea. Jim

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hoped once the group was organized and people felt more

secure in their future things could turn around. For now they

had to see to the group's survival. He found John leaning on

the rail of the walkway that led to the surface.“I'm beginning to worry John,” he said, taking a seat on

the walkway's edge once more, “they don't look so good and

this is only the first day. How are things on the surface?”

“Still dark,” John said with a shake of his head, “It is

getting close to ten now and looks closer to midnight. The

strikes are coming less frequently, but we had a few more close

hits. I don't think it will be safe to go out until some time

tomorrow. We may want to keep our time on the surface short,

we are starting to get some debris falling from the sky.”

“Can I see?” Jim asked.

“Jaime will be back soon,” John said, leaning on the rail

next to where Jim was sitting, “then it will be my turn to go up

top. If you want to come with me I would be glad for the

company.”

“Good,” Jim said looking up at the one time sheriff, “Iam getting a feeling of urgency, to tell you the truth. I am not

sure why. It is getting a little unsettling to tell you the truth.”

“Yea,” John said looking up the tunnel with a worried

expression, “I know what you mean. This uneasy feeling is

making me uncomfortable as well. I am not sure if the two are

related or if it is something else entirely.”

It wasn't long until Jaime came back down the tunnel

from the parking chamber. She too had a worried look on her face. She walked up to the rail and put an arm around her

husband's waist.

“What's wrong,” John asked her.

“More animal tracks,” she said with a puzzled frown,

“definitely not deer this time, some sort of large dog. I think it

may have been wolvs, I hope it is wolvs anyway and not

coyotes. Also I saw what looked like bear tracks. They seem

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to be sticking to the upper tunnels for now. I don't know how

long that will last though.”

“I see,” Jim said, “How hard would it be to put up some

sort of doors on the entrances to this chamber?”“Not too hard if we had the right tools,” said Jaime,”

but all we have are in Joshua's toolbox. They are mostly

wrenches, a hammer and a few screwdrivers.”

“Jim and I are going to see what it is like on the

surface,” John said, “he needs to see what is going on out

there.”

“Just be careful, I don't like the looks of some of those

tracks,” she took off her jacket and held out her shoulder

holster for Jim to take. He looked at her like she was trying to

hand him a poisonous snake, “Take it,” She insisted, “I would

feel better if you were both armed. If something happens you

can cover each other's back side.”

“Where did you get the guns?” Jim asked, as John

helped him adjust the holster's straps.

“You really didn't sleep last night did you?” Johnchuckled.

“I thought you two were on vacation,” Jim said.

“We were,” Jaime said, “but in a town this size the

sheriff and his favorite deputy can't go on vacation without

being on call for emergencies. Besides, gophers can be really

annoying on golf courses.”

“You're kidding right?” Jim asked, shooting her an

alarmed look.“About the gophers, yes,” John said with a chuckle,

“But we were on call.”

“Funny,” Jim said with a grin.

“Well, lets head on up,” John gave Jim some safety

instructions on the way up the passageway and showed him

how to operate the gun's safety mechanism.

When they reached the chamber they had parked their

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vehicles in a thought occurred to Jim, “Um, do we know how

much fuel we have for the generator?” he asked.

“I checked this morning,” John scratched his chin and

glared at the side passage the generator was in, “I would saywe have about four, possibly five days worth of fuel left.”

“Gas or diesel?”

“Gas, sadly”

“Well,” Jim said, “I have three quarters of a tank in my

van that gives us around ten gallons more. How bout your

truck?”

“It's a diesel,” John replied, “so with your ten gallons I

would say you have another days worth”

“Well,” Jim said after a few moments thought, “we will

just have to see if Joshua can come up with something. It is

obvious we can't rely on that old generator for too long.”

“Yea,” John said as the two made their way to the dark

opening that led to the outside world, “That thing is on it's last

legs anyway. It hasn't been maintained at all, I am surprised it

has lasted this long to tell you the truth.”“Hopefully we can find some more fuel in the

maintenance building,” Jim said as the two approached the

entrance to the cave.

The two men rounded the bus they had parked near the

entrance to shield the other vehicles. The world outside was

black as pitch. The clouds overhead boiled and churned

violently, lit occasionally by flashes of heat lightning. The

warm, oddly still air felt heavy and humid and smelled of smoke. From the chaos in the sky a light snow seemed to fall.

The gray flakes drifted downward in the still air. It had not

been falling long, only a light coating had collected on the

ground in the circle that the caverns exterior lights cast in the

hellish gloom.

“Yea,” Jim said looking out into the darkness, “urgent”

“Just a bit,” John agreed, “If enough ash builds we

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won't be going anywhere, and it looks like it is building up

fast.”

“I guess we can't afford to wait then,” Jim said,

hobbling back around the bus.“Here,” John said, handing Jim the keys to his truck,

“I'm going to run down and get Joshua.”

“Good idea,” Jim said and started hobbling toward the

truck. Then he remembered the shoulder holster, “Wait, John,”

he cried as he took the heavy thing off.

“Yea?” the sheriff asked.

“Jaime may need this more than I do,” Jim tossed the

holster and John snagged it out of the air.

“Thanks,” John said as he ran toward the passageway.

Jim started the truck and pulled it closer to the front of

the bus. He put it in park and got out. If he remembered right,

this kind of truck required locking the front wheels into four

wheel drive mode using rotating handles on the wheel hub. It

turned out to be a painful operation, requiring him to lean

heavily on the side of the truck as he locked each of the frontwheels into place. He then hobbled to the other side of the bus

and pushed open the door, sending the few flakes of ash that

had drifted in the crack swirling around the bottom step. He

climbed into the bus and sat behind the wheel. It took quite a

bit of effort for him to depress the clutch with his bad leg and

put the bus into reverse. He let the large vehicle roll backward

far enough to make room for the truck. He left the bus in

reverse and simply hit the break and shut the engine off rather then try the clutch again. The pressure had sent a fire up his

left side from his knee. Leaning heavily on his cane he just

managed to get back behind the wheel of the truck before his

knee gave out. His knee throbbed, Moving the bus had been a

stupid thing to do. He should have waited for the others, but

the urgency of the situation gnawed at him. It had to be done.

By the time Jim had finished berating himself John and Joshua

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had arrived.

“Alright, lets get going,” John said as he slid into the

passenger side of the truck and Joshua buckled himself into the

back seat. He looked over at Jim who's face had grown pale,“Are you alright?”

“Yea,” Jim answered, “It's just my knee again. I'll be

fine.” He turned on the truck's headlights and put the truck in

gear. It lurched forward as he gave it a little too much gas, it

certainly had much more power than his van had. The

maintenance building was not that far away, just about a

quarter of a mile down the road to the driveway that was

hidden behind a row of evergreens. The going was slow, the

ash stuck to the windshield and turned to mud when Jim tried

the windshield washer. Jim backed the truck up to the garage

door on the front of the building. Jim waited in the truck while

John and Joshua hopped out and ran in a half crouch to the

front door. Joshua tried the handle and shrugged his massive

shoulders at finding it locked. His eyes bulged as the much

smaller sheriff walked up to the door and with one swift kick had it open. The two men disappeared inside and before long

the garage doors opened. Jim rolled down the window as John

trotted up and tapped on the glass.

“Were in luck, there is a trailer,” John said shielding his

eyes from the ash, “I will guide you back so we can hook it

up.”

“Alright,” Jim said and the sheriff disappeared behind

the truck again. He emerged again a few moments later andmotioned for Jim to back up. Once in place Jim felt the trailer

hitch slide over the ball on the back of the truck. Each jarring

bump sent waves of pain up Jim's leg as the trailer was loaded.

He wished he had not forgotten the anti-inflamitories back in

his pack. He felt for his letter and tried to take his mind off the

pain as he read the words again and again. He had no idea how

long it took to load the trailer and truck with tools and

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whatever supplies were to be found in the maintenance

building. By the time John and Joshua climbed back into the

truck the ash had piled four inches thick on the hood of the

truck, The ash was falling so hard that it was impossible to seemore than fifty feet. The truck struggled against the weight of

the trailer as Jim drove through the ash. Every bump made him

wince as the pain in his knee punished him for his indiscretion

with the bus. The weight of the trailer seemed to grow as the

truck neared the cavern entrance. As the truck's power failed,

the tension in the cab grew. By the time the lights of the cavern

came into view, Jim had a hard time keeping the truck going,

and all three men were on the edge of their seats. The truck

rolled into the cavern on its last legs and died not far into the

cavern. The relief of making it home flooded over the three

and they all started laughing hysterically until tears streamed

from their eyes.

“I'll help you to your pallet, Jim,” Joshua said with

broad smile once they had caught their breath.

“Thank you...” the lights dimmed and flickered and thesound of the generator sputtering filled the awkward silence.

John made his way to the generator as Joshua helped Jim make

his way to the passageway leading down to their camp. The

lights continued to dim as the generator sputtered. Suddenly

John's voice was heard from the generator chamber.

“You! What ar...” his voice cut off with a thunk and the

sound of him falling heavily. In the dim, failing light a figure

rushed out of the chamber and pushed it's way past them,disappearing down the passageway. The pair lost their balance

and went crashing to the cavern floor. A sickening snap

followed by an agonized scream was the last thing that Jim

heard as he slipped into unconsciousness. Just before darkness

overtook him, he realized that the scream was coming from

him.

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*****

The Messenger sped down the passageway. The

generator finally failed, plunging the world into darkness. Ittook the thing long enough. The darkness didn't matter, it

remembered the way. The troubling thing was that The

Messenger had been seen! A pity it did not have time to finish

off that meddling sinner that had interrupted it's work. It had

managed to hit him hard enough to keep him out for a long,

long time. The thought brought a smile to it's face. It would

have to take an alternate rout back to the camp. The Messenger

was glad that it had stumbled upon it the night before while

exploring the surrounding passageways. The Messenger had to

wait, that was the confusing thing. Why would God tell his

Messenger that there was work to be done, and then make it

feel that it should wait? Why shouldn't it have killed the men

above when it had the chance? For the first time in its life

confusion outweighed its sense of purpose. For the first time in

its life there was doubt.

To be continued...

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8/9/2019 The End Pt.2


Stories in this series:

Pt. 1: Storm-frontPt. 2: Madness

Pt. 3: Marked

Pt. 4: Darkness and Light

Pt. 5: Guidance

Pt. 6: Salvation

Pt. 7: Redemption

Pt. 8: Preparations

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http://www.scribd.com/doc/44244474



http://www.scribd.com/doc/35749698/The-End-Pt-1







the end pt.2

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