Chapter 20: Evil Returns

June 20, 2030

“That’s the monastery over there on the left,” the man in the back seat informed the driver.

Ever since they had emptied and discarded most of the fuel canisters stowed in the cargo area with the back seats down, it was possible to raise the seats again and give him the privilege to ride in comfort in accordance with his authority.

“We’re close now. You need to turn off at the first left onto a dirt road.”

“Yes sir,” the driver responded in curt military fashion.

The two occupants of the vehicle had left the last government stronghold in the southwestern part of the country eight days ago, covering nearly 2000 miles, often having to backtrack because of damaged roads and bridges.

The passenger had to flee after a large group of hungry, desperate migrants from the north had overrun the heavy concertina wire and forward security outposts with the help of internal rebels. He preferred to describe them as an unstoppable barbarian horde on the march. Through informants, he knew about the looming attack and made preparations to bail ship and outrun the imminent collapse and massacre.

He was the head of an internal intelligence network and rapidly gained power to be judge and executioner of both real and suspected adversaries to the final remnant of the federal government. He was vicious in his approach and draconian in his methods. This brought him the nickname the Butcher, and he was feared and hated by the populace.

He knew the rebels would hunt him down like an animal. They had tried once before, but in the attack killed his beautiful sixteen year-old daughter. Months later, filled with grief and repugnance, his wife abandoned him.

There was nothing left for him to do. It was every man for himself. He ordered his trustworthy bodyguard to load up one of the few remaining government vehicles with rations for one week and enough fuel to get them to their final destination.

“Up ahead on your left, Corporal, you´ll see a long driveway. That will take us to my house.”

“I see it, Mr. Herschel,” the driver acknowledged. “It´s a good thing we made it ahead of the approaching storm.”

As they drove up in front of the brickhouse, Herschel grinned with satisfaction and let out a sigh of relief that they had arrived, but was upset that the grass on his country estate was knee high.

“Here Corporal,” Herschel handed the driver a set of keys. “Go around to the back side. These will unlock the door to the mudroom. There should be a power switch next to the door to the garage. Turn it on. From there, go to the living room, turn on the lights and unlock the front doors for me.”

Minutes passed before the corporal swung open one of the double doors of the front entrance. Herschel had already exited the vehicle waiting impatiently to enter the house. Heavy drops of rain started to fall on his balding head as dark, threatening clouds quickly moved in.

“Goddammit, Corporal, what took you so long?” he snarled with anger and frustration.

“Sir,” the corporal stood at attention. “I found the door broken into and made a quick sweep of the house to make sure no one was inside.”

“Did you look in the basement?”

“No sir, I was unaware there was one.”

“ ... and the lights?”

“I checked the garage, but there was no switch, just a bunch of loose wires sticking from an empty electric panel box.”

“Dammit, dammit, dammit!” Herschel barked in a fit of rage. “Take your semi-automatic and lead the way. The door to the basement is in the kitchen.”

As they entered the house, the wind picked up and the clouds burst open with a heavy downpour followed by lightning and rumblings of thunder which grew closer and louder. Tired and weary from the trip, the noise made the corporal more uneasy with each step he took down into the basement. The dark storm clouds had dulled the daylight that filtered in through the basement egress windows making it difficult to see things clearly.

“It seems all´s clear down here, sir,” the corporal reported as Herschel remained upstairs by the basement door.

Relieved, but concerned, Herschel descended quickly to see for himself.

“I suspected as much,” he began to grumble. “Look over here, whoever broke into my house has been stealing my stockpile of survival food ... at least ... four or five years’ worth.”

Furious, Herschel stomped back upstairs in a rage of hysteria greater than the angry storm outside. He was not a man to cross, he told himself. He swore that he would find the thieves and bring them to justice, his form of justice, swift and sure. He ordered the corporal to do a search of the monastery as soon as the rains stopped.

“I never trusted those sneaky monks hiding under their robes. We should have dealt with them the first time when we had the chance,” he growled. “But first thing tomorrow morning, you will bring Mitchell to me. Let’s see what he has to say.”

The rain continued all night and throughout the next two days. The strong wind swept it sideways pelting the windows. The corporal hardly slept during the entire trip and was looking forward to a comfortable bed and some much needed rest and relaxation. He deserved at least a day to catch up.

Herschel had other plans. While he was steaming, sitting alone in the dark behind his executive desk, the corporal was ordered to stand watch outside by the front door.

EARLY THE NEXT MORNING under monsoon conditions, the corporal returned reporting that Mitchell was dead with a bullet through his skull. The casings left on the floor pointed to the work of government agents.

Enraged, Herschel wanted to turn the house into an impenetrable fortress starting with boarding up the mudroom door from the inside. He also ordered the corporal to continue standing watch outside during certain hours of the day and all night even in the stinging rain.

When Herschel learned that there was no one at the monastery and everything, including the front gate was locked, he ordered the corporal to do a thorough search of all the houses along the gravel road, starting with the farmhouse just up the road.

THE STORM FROM THE east had raged for three days, drawing a heavy veil of rain and gloom over the valley. The furious wind brought hurricane-like conditions with constant, torrential waves of rain. Lightening struck and flashed all around the mountain like an artillery barrage. The storm left everyone paralyzed and imagining the worst.

When calm returned, the world was drenched in wetness, the ground soggy and littered with fallen tree branches. Large pools of water formed in low places. Trees hung their weighty branches in sadness. The stream had swelled to three times its normal size, funneling the excess water coming off the mountain. Luckily, the crops were intact, nothing was uprooted, washed or torn away.

Clark woke up to the rooster’s call and made his way to the barn to milk one of the nannies for Sally to prepare oatmeal for the kids´ breakfast. The rain clouds were long gone, chased away by two days of sunshine and a cool breeze from the north. The air felt refreshed and the ground was finally drying out.

Clark was deep in thoughts about making his first cut of hay before noon when he heard the familiar sound of a vehicle approaching from the road. Typical of a teenager, Sally was always conning him with a seductive smile to take their car for a spin and improve her driving abilities, but he was sure the car was sheltered in the garage behind closed doors.

He got up from behind the nanny to see what Sally was up to this time, when a black vehicle, similar to a Jeep SUV but on steroids, appeared out in the opening and slid to a grinding stop as the driver slammed the brakes real hard. The front and side of the vehicle were splattered with mud and the tires caked with muck.

Through the hazy glass of the small window, Clark caught a glimpse of the driver clad in a black uniform and black cap. The driver did not see Clark and shifted the gears in reverse to make a quick retreat and disappear. Bewildered, Clark ran to the road and noticed that the driver had backed up the vehicle into the tall grass on the side to turn around and head at full throttle towards the highway.

The gravel road was mucky and dotted with mud puddles, making it easy for Clark to follow the fresh tracks left by the vehicle. When he came to the driveway leading towards the brickhouse, the tracks made a sharp turn in that direction. There were no tire tracks either coming from or going towards the highway. If there had been, the rain had obviously washed them away.

Still stunned by the sudden appearance of the vehicle, Clark was not only baffled by the direction it had taken, but mostly intrigued by the possibility that one or more individuals may have been occupying the brickhouse for days, maybe weeks.

Clark ran back to the farmhouse over the rain soaked muddy road as quickly as his legs could carry him, the adrenalin spurring him to find Sally and Katie. Out of breath, he told them about the surprise visit moments earlier and that the vehicle and driver had come from the brickhouse. He instructed the girls to stay inside the house while he was going to check how many individuals were there and ascertain their intentions. Worried about his safety, Sally insisted that he take his shotgun and pistol.

He decided not to take the open road to the brickhouse, as it offered few options to seek cover and could easily put him in the cross-hairs of someone. Instead, in swift silence, he took a shortcut dashing through a small pasture and patch of forest behind the barn to reach the meadow of the brickhouse.

There was no vehicle parked in front of the house, and from his vantage point, he was unable to see if the vehicle was parked inside the garage. Keeping his head down, he scrambled around the periphery to get a better look. The two-car garage door was open, but empty. Clark’s heart sank to his feet as fear started knotting up inside him imagining the worse.

Desperate, he ran through the forest and back to the farmhouse, trying to outrun himself, putting all of his life into his legs. His heart strained to keep up with his legs, charged by the urgency. He ran faster than he had ever run before feeling the rush of air on his face. His lungs were bursting, his stomach screaming with a stitch, yet he still kept going, jumping logs and moving through brush like a ghost. Fear does that.

When he arrived at the side of the barn gasping for breath, Katie was being thrown into the back of the idling vehicle with her arms tied and mouth gagged. Between the time Clark discovered the tracks leading to the brickhouse and the time he realized the vehicle was no longer there, the driver had returned to the farmhouse with intentions that made Clark´s blood boil with rage. He pointed the shotgun, but realized he was too far away to stop the driver who quickly closed the hatch, slid behind the wheel and drove away.

Clark ran into the house to find Sally, the girls and the baby hunkered down in the kitchen. The driver didn’t see them and no one was harmed. Katie, on the other hand, had gone outside to chase the goat that Clark had been milking that morning back into the barn. He had left the barn door open when he ran after the vehicle and in all the excitement forgot to close it.

The driver apprehended Katie at gunpoint and tied her up. Everything happened so quickly. Sally was in shambles as she was unable to help Katie. Clark was devastated for his negligence, miscalculation, and inability to deter the calamity.

In an instant, they were jerked from a life of peace and promise and flung back into the tragedy of madness and violence from which they had escaped. The reality hit them like a speeding train; shattered their simple existence like a killer tornado. Men were just as savage now, as millennia before; men who thought that they could take what they wanted like wolves without shame or guilt. The world-wide havoc produced by the sun had not changed human nature, only human conditions.

Every passing minute was filled with agony and misgivings. Clark loved Katie with desperation, a feeling so strong that words could not describe it. He imagined what she might be going through right now. He wanted to hold her, protect her. But, first, he had to annihilate the evil that had barbarically intruded his home, threatened his family, and upended their lives.

“I always prayed this would never happen,” Clark’s voice cracked. “I may have to do something that I thought I would never have to.”

“I trust you Daddy; I’m with you all the way,” Sally replied clutching his arm, sensing the fierce apprehension in his face, as her own face turned into a mask of worry.

“You, Katie and the kids are all I have and I am not going to let anyone harm you,” he said as a steely determination was back in his voice, his fighting spirit aroused. “May God help me.”

Sally looked up into his glazed eyes. “I’m sure you’ll do the right thing when the time comes.”

“Here’s your proof,” the corporal announced carrying a struggling Katie over his shoulder into the kitchen.

“It’s about damn time you showed up, I’ve been waiting for an hour,” Herschel grumbled.

“Sorry sir, this pussy is feisty. She gave me a hard time chasing and tying her down.”

“Set her down over there and tie her ankles to the legs of the chair.”

“Let me go!” Katie shouted defiantly once the rag was removed from her mouth and struggled to get free.

Herschel slapped her across the face and pressed the muzzle of his pistol under her chin. “If you don´t calm down and cooperate, I may have to teach you a lesson, missy.”

“You have no right to kidnap and keep me here,” Katie protested.

Herschel slapped her harder, causing her to see stars. “I´ve had about enough of your insolence. One more outburst from you and I´ll have the corporal here ram his cock up your ass. He´s as horny as a pit bull.”

“Why don´t we start with the formalities,” he said with sarcasm dripping in his voice. “My name is Herschel. I´m the Chief of Homeland Security of the new formed government. What´s your name, young lady?”

“There is no government anymore,” Katie replied with irreverence. “You have no authority here.”

Herschel glowered, bristling with anger. “You’re in my house, on my property and if you don’t cooperate, I’ll show you my authority,” he said putting his hand around her throat and chocking her. “Let’s try this one more time. What’s your name?” he bellowed.

Realizing that her defiance was futile, she tried but hardly any sound came from her constricted throat. “Katie,” she finally croaked.

“That’s better,” he released his grip around her throat. “And, how old are you, Katie?”

“Eighteen,” she glared at him.

“Mmm, in your prime,” Herschel said as he put his hand under Katie´s skirt and started sliding it up and down her thigh.

“Who else lives with you up at the farmhouse?” he stared at her with thick eyebrows and dark eyes. He was like some bald character out of a horror movie and his gaze made her skin crawl.

“No one.”

“You mean a pretty little thing like you lives all by herself?”

Katie nodded convincingly. He studied her coldly.

“You know if you are lying, you are not going to like the punishment I have for someone your age,” Herschel said pulling back on her hair and getting his face within inches of Katie´s. “I´ll give you another chance to tell me the truth. Does anyone else live with you?”

“No, I live alone.”

“Alright, but tomorrow Corporal Jenkins will check out the place and if he finds out that you are not being truthful, I´m going to let him fuck your brains out. Do you understand?”

“Y ... yes,” Katie responded feeling more danger from these thugs than the black bear she once confronted.

“So, where are you from?”

“I´m ... I used to live at a house ... further up the road from the farmhouse,” Katie disguised the truth.

“By yourself?”

“No, with my dad and sister.”

“And, are they also living at the farmhouse?”

“No. About four years ago, they went into town and never returned.”

“So, how have you been able to survive all by yourself all these years?”

“Scavenging for food among the houses along the road.”

“Including my house?” Herschel asked with a nasty salvo.