Post-Apocalyptic Nomadic Warriors (25 page)

Chewy scurried over the seats and through the broken glass after her friend and master.
 

The creature had gotten bigger.

When Jerry had first emerged from the shelter, the creature was little bigger than the man it had been. The transformation from man to plant had increased his bulk. Vines had only begun to sprout from his arms back then. Now they sprouted from his entire body and writhed like sentient creatures.

The beast’s skin had been dry and scaly seven years ago. It had cracked and hardened a thousand times since that day to form a dense bark that appeared completely bulletproof. For every crack, the creature’s height and mass had increased.

It stood twelve feet tall at what Jerry assumed was the shoulder; countless vines reached three times that into the air. The shape of the human that it had once been could barely be distinguished from the myriad vines.

“There you are,” the beast rasped.

Erica continued to scream. She tried to grab at the vines about her waist, but the violent thrashing forced her limbs to flail helplessly.

“Put her down!”

“Or what? You’ll read me a fairy tale?”

Before he had tried to drown out the man’s constant pounding with music, and after he had pleaded with the man to find help elsewhere, Jerry had read to him from inside the shelter. He did this to calm a man he thought was dying, but the stories only caused the man to beat harder against the reinforced steel door.

A vine wrapped around Jerry’s ankle. Jerry swung the machete and severed the vine.

Chewy held several more vines at bay, catching the occasional growth in her jaws and tearing it to pieces.

“I’ve got more vines than you have swings in your puny arms, Librarian.

Jerry slid the machete into his belt and held up the shotgun. He charged towards the body of the creature firing into the mass of vines that tried to grab him. A substantial enough hit caused the vine to go limp. But there was always another to replace it.

Jerry ran out of shells fast. He dropped the gun and drew the machete. Hacking his way closer to the body of the beast, he screamed as he sliced his way closer.

One of the thicker vines struck him across the chest and drove him against the coach. He landed hard on his tailbone.

“For six months I beat on that door and begged for you to let me in.”

A second vine launched at him like a spear. Jerry fell out of the way. The vine grazed his cheek and embedded itself into the quarter panel.

“But you were too scared to help a fellow human.”

Jerry regained his feet and charged again.

Leaves and vines fell to the ground as he struck them. Hacking and chopping, he managed to kill several, but there were too many. He had not even come within striking distance of the creature’s body when several vines ensnared his feet and pulled him to the ground. He was overcome as countless more vines entwined his arms.

“And, when you finally came out, what did you do? You tried to kill me. You caged me and left me to die.”

Jerry struggled, “You tried to kill us first.”

“You deserved it! Me? Not as much. Hadn’t I suffered enough?”

Chewy rushed to aid the fallen nomad. The mighty dog tore at the vines that held her friend fast. Vines launched towards her and she was soon caught within the living jungle of the creature’s mutation.

Jerry was lifted from the ground. He gripped the machete tight, but he could not move his arms. He had no leverage. Whenever he managed to wrestle his grip free, other vines intercepted the blade and prevented the warrior from taking a full swing.

The creature drew him closer until the two were face to face.

“Finally,” it rasped. “With every pound I cursed you. With every bud I pictured your death at my hands.”

From inside the flurry of vines, a hand, a human hand, emerged and wrapped around Jerry’s throat.

“The fairy tale is over, Librarian.”

“Grrrrr!”

The creature turned his gaze to the motor coach. Three bears, small, medium, and large sizes, had emerged from the vehicle.

The creature looked back at Jerry and laughed, “Oh, my. Grizzlies. I’m going to kill you and finish off the three bears. But her?” He moved Erica close so Jerry could see her. “I think I’ll keep her alive for, oh, six months.”

Jerry spit on the creature’s barely human face.

“Keep it up, Librarian. I love the rain now.” The creature turned suddenly. He dropped his hand from Jerry’s throat and he began to thrash and stumble.

Jerry looked back to the coach.

The three boys, dressed as bears, assaulted the creature on three fronts. The blades affixed to their paws tore through the vines.

The creature grabbed them, but struggled to hold them. The suits were loose enough that any grip on the costume left the boys room to wriggle their wrists free.

They worked together slashing at the creature’s many serpentine limbs. Vines fell dormant all around them. If one of the bears fell, a brother was there to pick him up while the third held the vines at bay.

Jerry felt the grip on his wrists loosen. The boys divided the creature’s focus. If they kept it up, he might have a chance.

Austin roared as he attacked the plant. A vine engulfed his head and began to squeeze. He drooped to the ground, leaving the mask behind. Just as quick, he stood up and struck down the vines that held his bear head.

“You little shits,” there was rage in the rasp now. The collected cadence was gone. The creature stumbled backwards and began to use its vines for defense instead of attack. It threw up walls of brown roots and leafy screens to protect itself.

The boys’ bear claws cut easily through the vegetation. The blades were sharp and they were small enough that the surrounding vines could not interfere with their work.

The vine holding Jerry’s left hand was needed in defense. Jerry gripped the machete tighter in his right hand and drew a knife from his pocket. With one flick, the blade exposed itself.

Jerry spoke, “Phillip.”

Hearing his human name spoken for the first time in years, the creature turned back to face him.

The former librarian drove the knife in the creature’s eye.

It screamed in its demon-toned rasp and reeled back. The vine’s released their grasp.

Jerry fell to the ground in a crouch and rushed in, brandishing the machete.

The boys continued their assault; claws flashed, pulp dripped, and vines fell.

Jerry fought his way to the man inside the creature, taking huge slashes at his chest. It threw up its arm to defend itself. Jerry hacked through bark-thick skin into flesh, blood, and bone.

Chewy was now at his side, her massive jowls locked around the creature’s leg, pushing it further off balance.

It dropped Erica and brought its last few remaining vines into the fight.

The boys made quick work of them.

Roars of rage grew from inside the plant creature and turned to shrieks of pain as the vines fell and the man in the bushes emerged.

Chewy twisted her head and pulled its leg out from beneath it to bring Jerry and the creature face to face.

It began to laugh. “You can’t kill me, Librarian. My roots …”

The machete slashed through the creature’s head, exposing, to everyone’s surprise, brain, not pulp.

The creature’s eyes went blank. Its vines collapsed. It fell over dead.

Austin continued to growl at the fallen limbs.

Jerry rushed to Erica. She was hurt, but she was alive. He helped her to her feet. She stood, clasping her side. Her waist was bruised and scratched from where the vines had assaulted her.

She threw her arms around Jerry. He hurt as well. His limbs felt as if they had been stretched beyond their limit and were just now settling back into place.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she held him tight. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Jerry held her close.

“I’ve been horrible to you.”

“It’s okay.”

“How can you say that? After the way I treated you?”

“You didn’t know.”

“But …”

“Erica, the first time we met I dove headfirst into a wall. I’m not sure that I would have trusted me either. And I know me fairly well.”

She started to cry and buried her face in his shoulder.

He pulled her closer and stroked her hair.

When he finally looked up, he had an audience. Alex was grinning, Trent made lewd gestures, and Austin hid in his bear suit.

“Good work, bear brigade. You boys just saved our lives.”

Alex blushed. The smallest just stayed in his bear suit and saluted.

“Let’s go guys. We’ve got to keep moving.”

Chewy sat at his feet and panted. Jerry petted her head and looked at Erica, “You, too, girls. We’ve got to get to that town before that truck does.”

“Hey,” Trent said, “before we go, could you never call us the bear brigade ever again?”

“Get on the truck, Trent.”

THIRTY

The people of New Hope gathered before him. Strain from days of defense preparations had left them worn and tired. Several dozed while others batted their eyes in veiled attempts to stay awake. Logan paced the front of the room as everyone found their seats. All but the sentries had been called to the town hall barn.

Behind Logan was a map of the town, an aerial view that showed the walls of the city and where defensive positions would be taken. Archers were denoted by arrows, which seemed obvious to Logan, but the symbol took three votes and a compromise with the flamethrower committee to be accepted as the “little symbol thingy” that would tell the archers where to stand. The compromise was that the flamethrower teams would be referred to as fire people instead of firemen and would be indicated on the map as a dove, because a flame seemed too violent. Medics chose ambulances instead of crosses in case some of the attackers were of a different belief system than the people of New Hope.

A gnarled pool cue served as his pointer. As the last person sat, he banged it against the wall to get the room’s attention. It could never be used to shoot a game of pool again, but it was perfect for planning the defense of a walled town against the onslaught of merciless villains in a giant armored truck.

“Now, when the lookout spots the truck …”

The door to the town hall barn burst open.

“The truck is coming!” the young lookout panted.

The citizens of New Hope began to panic.

Logan bashed the cue against the steel wall. Thunder roared inside the town hall barn. “Calm down everyone. You all know what to do.”

Various voices in the crowd responded:

“No, we don’t.”