Legend of Mace (4 page)

At least a dozen boys were lounging around watching him with interest. They all carried knifes or machetes. “They’ve seen you with me. No one will question you.”

“Which way?” Roger’s heart beat a little faster.

Pointing across the courtyard, Mace nodded, “Just go through that opening and turn left. Jail is at the end on the far left.”

Moving away from Mace, Roger muttered, “Shit,” under his breath. As soon as he started walking, the boys all stood. Several moved towards him or followed closely. With a mischievous grin, Woody asked, “You sure that’s a smart move?”

Mace flashed another rare smile. “Let’s see how he handles himself.” Boys surrounded Roger as he continued to walk. Many were shirtless, all wore Mohawks. They all carried weapons at their sides.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Bowie asked menacingly as he walked stride by stride with Roger.

Feeling like he was in some psychotic revisioning of Lord of the Flies, Roger kept walking and avoided eye contact. “To the jail. My friends are going to be released. Do you plan on following me the whole way?”

“Every step. You get out of line and you’re not going to make it.”

“I’m not looking for any trouble.”

“I don’t care if you’re looking for it or not. Looks like you just found it.”

Roger stopped and squared off against Bowie, who was half his size. “Back off.”

Bowie smirked. “You’ve got some balls acting like you own the place. This is our camp and you’re a stranger. Something could just happen to you, like an accident, if you’re not careful.”

“I told you I’m not looking for trouble.” Looking at the collection of boys that surrounded him, Roger realized gang mentality was about to take over. He needed to deal with Bowie immediately. “If you want to try something, do it now or back off.”

Mace and Woody followed at a distance. At the sound of the threat, Mace picked up his speed. The boys never backed down. Bowie pulled out a large knife. “Do you know why they call me Bowie?” he said. He held up the blade and waved it at Roger. The sun glinted off the blade.

“Because you’re having an identity crises and want to seem tough?”

Mace reached them just as Bowie swung the knife at Roger. Roger jerked to the side and swiftly grabbed Bowie's arm, twisting it behind his back. The knife dropped and Roger put his other arm around Bowie’s throat, squeezing his airway shut. “The rest of you back off!” he said loudly, as he struggled to keep Bowie under control.

“Enough!” yelled Mace, pushing his way through the boys, who held their weapons at the ready. “Damn it, Roger, I thought you were a pacifist!”

“You don’t survive out here getting pushed around!” 
Bowie pulled at Roger with his free hand while his face turned bright red. “What the hell were you thinking letting me walk off on my own? It was like releasing me to the wolves!”

“Let go of him!” yelled Mace. The boy's now all yelled threats.

“Not until they back off!”

Mace pulled the machete that hung by his side and pointed it at Roger. “I underestimated you. I shouldn’t have done that. Now let him go or I’ll finish you.”

Glaring at Mace, Roger pushed Bowie away. He took a defensive posture, waiting for the attack. Bowie fell to his knees and gasped for breath. The boys moved towards Roger, weapons drawn.

“Leave him alone!” Mace said loudly as he sheathed his machete. “I’m going to escort him to the jail. This was my fault. He is our guest for now.”

Bowie glared up at Roger and spit on the ground. Climbing to his feet, he dusted himself off. There would be hell to pay.

Roger was beside himself. “That was fucked up,” he said to Mace as they walked. “You set me up.”

“I wanted to see how you’d handle yourself.”

No fear remained as Roger glared. “And did I pass your test?”

“Better than I expected. When you said you were a minister I thought maybe you’d try to convert them. I had no idea you possessed those type of skills." Mace gazed upon Roger with a new sense of respect. "It’s not like those kids aren’t trained.”

“I’m a third degree black belt in Taekwondo. I actually took it easy on them.”

Mace looked at him closely. “A Kung Fu minister. Interesting…”

“There is a strong spiritual connection with martial arts. Body, mind, spirit. They must all be aligned to be effective. It’s where I first became a seeker.”

“Just don’t call me Grasshopper,” Mace said with an icy gleam. “Or I may have to cut your head off.”

Roger couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. Analyzing him for a second, Roger said, “You asked me to stay for a reason. It’s obvious you don’t take in many strangers. What is it you're seeking?”

Avoiding eye contact, Mace felt his stomach tighten as he looked away. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t believe you, Mace. I think you’re looking for something. I think you seek redemption.”

Mace stopped in his tracks and took a few deep breaths. “Stop right there. Don’t psychoanalyze me. I thought you might be good for this camp. Don’t make me second guess that decision.” Inside, his stomach churned. Roger could see right through him.

“Sorry, won’t bring it up again.”

“You better not.”

Inside the jail, Crockett and Kelly traded barbs as Mace and Roger walked in.

“Keep talking, Jersey, I always yawn when I’m interested.”

“Don’t worry, I will. Are you always this stupid or are you just making a special effort today?”

“You know, if I really wanted to hear from an ass, I’d just fart.”

“Yeah, well I’d fart just to make you smell better.”

“Shoot, I still smell better than you look. In fact, if I had a face like yours, I’d sue my parents.”

Mace was about to stop them when he noticed the looks on their faces. They were impressing each other with the banter. It was foreplay.

“Every girl has a right to be ugly, but you sure abused the privilege.”

“Ha Ha. I’d like to see things from your point of view but I can’t seem to get my head that far up my ass.”

“Okay, okay,” said Mace finally, raising his hands up to get their attention. “It’s time to let them out, Crockett.”

“Thank God,” said Tom, from the back of the cell. “If I had to take any more of that I was going to shoot myself.”

The other three men remained quiet, their attention focused on Mace.

“Let them out?” questioned Crockett. “We’re just going to let them go?”

“Not exactly,” Roger replied as he looked from Crockett to his companions. “They’ve asked us to stay.”

“What?” Crockett couldn’t believe it. “You’ve got to be kidding. With us?” he asked, staring at Mace.

“Stay here?” exclaimed Kelly loudly from the jail. “With these lunatics?”

Unable to control himself, Mace actually smiled again. He hadn't smiled this much in years. “Might be good for everyone. At least for a little while.”

“It will be nice to have a safe place to sleep for a change,” added Roger.

The way that Kelly and Crockett looked at each other, it was obvious to Mace there was some type of connection. They were going to do everything they could to deny it, though.

“These people are crazy. You know that, right?” Kelly said, pointing at Crockett. “If you’re close enough to this one, you can hear the ocean.”

Rolling his eyes, Crockett responded gruffly with, “Jeez, who lit the fuse on your tampon?”

“That’s enough!” said Mace, whose patience had run its course. Addressing the men in the cell, his expression was guarded. “I need to know if you’re staying. If not, we’ll give you an escort out.”

Tom spoke up immediately. “I’m staying. I’ve had enough of the road for a while.”

“And you?” Mace asked the others. They looked at each other and remained silent. When they didn’t respond right away, Mace added, “I’m only asking once.”

“We’ll stay,” said one of the men as he pushed himself slowly off the ground. The other two stared blankly at Mace. Mace could feel the darkness grow. He didn’t like or trust them. 

The lone infected staggered slowly through the abandoned building, rabid and lost beyond reason. Long past mortal death, the zombie closed in on its final expiration. The toxin gradually lost its grip on the host, time being its greatest enemy. Decayed and decomposing, the zombie stumbled to its knees. Its eyes, already vacant, lost their bloody signature as dark fluid oozed down its cheeks.

“It’s dying,” whispered Chelsea as she and Maya gawked from the doorway. Chelsea kept a hand on Buster to keep him from attacking. “I’ve never actually seen one do it,” Maya said, fascinated. She kept her eyes glued to the dying corpse.

The zombie moved its head in their direction and froze. It made a slow chewing motion with its jaws.

“Do you think it can still see us?” questioned Maya as goose pimples traveled up her arms.

“I’m not sure.”

As its jaw continued to move weakly, its body started wavering.

“It’s going down,” Chelsea whispered, watching in amazement. A few seconds later the zombie tumbled over. Whatever fluids were left slowly oozed out its facial crevices.

“That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen,” stated Maya, her face pouting and sickly. “Let’s get out of here.”

Sneaking out of the compound at first light, Chelsea and Maya now hurried back towards the camp. Becoming inseparable after Kansas, they shared many of the same haunted memories. With no recollection of life before the apocalypse, they tried to create their own make-believe world that didn't revolve around death.

  Stopping underneath a grove of Cypress trees, they tried to catch their breath. Most of the buildings around them were long demolished or burnt to the ground. Mace wanted as much visibility as possible for any ground intrusion. It made it harder to sneak around for the kids, but more fun because of the challenge. They all knew their way blindly around the mines.

Spotting something on the bark of one of the trees, Chelsea approached it slowly. It was some type of reptile.

“What is it?” whispered Maya, who peered cautiously over Chelsea’s shoulder, unnerved by the lizard-like creature. While infected or hostile outsiders seldom put a fright in her, reptiles and spiders could still easily do the trick.

“It looks like a tiny dragon,” Chelsea whispered back. Moving forward slowly, Chelsea’s eyes were glued to the creature. “I’m gonna try to grab it,” she whispered.

“Be careful!” whispered Maya loudly. “What if it bites?” The lizard was no more than eight-inches long, from head to tip of tail.

“It won’t,” Chelsea said quietly, turning her head towards Maya to shush her with a finger to the lips. “It’s just a baby.”

The lizard clung to the tree like a baby to its mother’s breast. Its skin folds were spread wide, appearing like tiny dragon wings, pressed close to the bark. 

Buster moved past her to sniff at the strange critter and spooked it. It leapt off the tree and glided ten feet to land firmly on another.

“Did you see that?” Chelsea squealed. “It flew! It IS a baby dragon!”

Maya’s face registered real fear. “What if there are bigger ones around?” She scanned the trees and the sky overhead. Chelsea was too entranced by the creature to even hear.

Creeping slowly towards the Cypress where the lizard now clung, Chelsea whispered, “Grab Buster before he spooks it again!” Her heart beat wildly as she inched forward.

All of a sudden the lizard leapt again, but this time it didn’t jump to another tree but came directly at her, landing on her shirt. Chelsea’s scream was so loud Maya jerked backwards and tripped over Buster, landing hard on her butt.

Completely frozen, Chelsea stared down at the lizard that quietly observed her. She clamped her mouth shut, afraid it would try to climb inside. Gaping at it with uncertainty, she tried not to take a breath.

Maya got slowly back to her feet and wiped dirt off her butt with her hand. “What is WRONG with you?” she said loudly behind Chelsea. Chelsea didn’t budge. Staring at her in confusion, Maya hesitantly approached. Maya’s head moved slowly around Chelsea’s body until her eyes fixed on the lizard planted squarely on Chelsea’s chest. The lizard moved its head towards Maya and tingles ran down her spine. She peed a little as its head snapped back to stare up at Chelsea.

“What do we do?” whispered Maya.

Chelsea was still afraid to open her mouth. “Mmm, mmm,” she said between clenched teeth, lips still firmly shut.

The lizard cocked its head, then quickly scampered around her body to stare down at Buster, who moved towards it and sniffed it with interest. It suddenly leapt again, soaring up and around them for a few intervals before it swooped back, heading for Chelsea again. The tiny claws on its feet clamped onto Chelsea’s hair as it landed clumsily on her head. Chelsea’s eyes bulged like saucers as she focused on Maya, who in turn gawked at the baby dragon.

“I don’t know what to do,” Chelsea said mechanically, still refusing to budge a muscle. She slowly reached her hands up and clasped them over the lizard-dragon. It squirmed in her hands but she was able to get one hand firmly around it.

Bringing it down to stare at it, she couldn’t believe her eyes. “I can’t believe we found it!” she said joyfully. Its head twitched back in response.

The lizard was originally from the Philippines. Part of a collection of exotic reptiles that belonged to a local shop, it escaped after the apocalypse. It was a Draco volans, or flying dragon lizard. The infected tore the place apart, but a few creatures still managed to escape and survive. It was a full grown male, with a blue hue under its wings. Its brown mottled appearance made it blend in well with tree bark. A favorite of the shop owner, it was very comfortable around people.

“I’m keeping it!” Chelsea said excitedly. “I think it likes me!” The lizard stared at her, remaining passive in her grip.

“What happens when it grows up, though?” asked Maya. “Don’t dragons get really big?”

“Maybe we could ride him, then!”

“But what if he breathes fire?”

Chelsea scolded her gently. “Dragons don’t really breathe fire. That’s just a story.”