Sunday, July 31, 2011

The Paladins #2, August 1 2011

The Paladins #2: Eric’s Rebirth





I breath deep, and slow as undead bodies rush around me. Surrounded by the monstrous infected, I take a minute to look back at what I’ve accomplished in this life. A broken marriage, a no-where job, a goal-less life, and top it all off i managed to get my ex-wife pregnant in high-school. That’s a good end note. But then i think of Joey, and how maybe, just maybe he will grow up to be something more than the screw up that I’ve become. I don’t know if most people would consider myself a screw-up, or if it’s just something my generation is destined for. Hopefully Joey won’t have to live through that. He won’t be clumped in with his peers, he will be his own person. I know it. When this all blows over and society, like the phoenix it is, rises from it’s ashes, Joey will lead the charge and bring a new way of life to the survivors of this tragedy.


I suddenly realize, that was a really long thought for someone surrounded by the hungry living-dead. And then i look around, and see that they’re all standing still, as if frozen in time. I look closer and see a thin layer of white light is surrounding them all. From behind the group of flesh-hungry beasts I see movement, an astonishingly bright light, and then nothing. The light fades and as i regain my vision, the monsters are gone. Reduced to grey ashes on the dirty roof-top. Full circle; death to life, ashes to ashes.


“State your name, breather.” says a voice so deep and powerful i can’t help but respond.


“Eric...Eric Alowitz.” whereas the mystery talker’s voice is strong and empowering, mine is weak and feeble. The vocal equivalent to a field mouse.


“Some people would call running into a group of infected, unarmed, an act of blind courage. I, on the other hand, would call it pointless suicide.” The man walks towards me. He’s wearing a fine white suit with a black undershirt and a white tie. Across his left eye is an eye patch with some sort of insignia emblazoned on it, like a cross and an atom combined. “So tell me, what were you doing just now?”


“They were...they were going to overtake me,” I struggle to find the words, why can’t I talk to this guy? “I wanted to go out fighting, not like a coward.”


“Well, that’s rather brave of you, honest even.” He takes a step towards me, and then to my left, slowly making a circle around me. The two men that came in with him don’t seem to care about me or what the third man has said. They just seem to be here because they have to. “What kind of experience do you have, Eric the Honest?”


“I don’t know what you mean,” I notice that he’s eyeing me up and down. Like a specimen, or a piece of mean.


“I mean, in the heat of the battle, in the thick of the fight, would you lose yourself? Would you keep a cool head? Could you take another man’s life, if it meant keeping yours?” I’m just noticing now that attached to a holster on his belt is a mean looking shotgun, and strapped to his back appears to be a sword of some type.
“I can’t say I’ve ever thought about it, sir,” the title seemed natural, “I’ve never been in that kind of situation.”


“You live in a world where the dead walk and their infected brethren seek to consume the flesh of every living-being that breathes.” The way he talks sounds so, inviting, inspiring even. “So don’t hold your breath Eric Alowitz, your time may come soon.”


“Is that so?” The two men behind him continue to care little for our conversation, but I see that he himself has a look of seriousness on his face. “I don’t see that happening to someone like me.”


“Someone like us.” He corrected me.


“What makes us so similar? I don’t walk around with weapons strapped to me.”


“You have one on your back,” He nods towards me and i remember the family heirloom that i have strapped to me.


“That’s different,”


“We can make excuses forever, Eric, but it takes a true man of power to accept that he is more than just a man. You are a hero, if not now, then soon.”


“What makes you so sure?” I give him a look that says I’m not convinced.


“Because, Eric, you see those two men behind me?” I look back and see that they are still standing there, still looking bored. “Those men used to be thugs, they used to steal from old women and do unspeakable things. Now they do the work of the Radiance, and the wield the Grace like an extension of their bodies.” I don’t know what the Radiance is or the Grace, but he makes them sound so appealing. “But with someone like you, someone with a strong moral code. Someone with honor, and honesty.” He pauses and a smile comes across his face, “You could be great.”


“I don’t understand what you are trying to say.”


“I’m saying,” he looks proud,”That I will mold you into the greatest holy warrior this world has ever seen, and that you will help deliver us from this chaos. You will help save the world.”


I take a while to let it sink in, all these strange, abstract ideas being thrown at me all at once. He sounds like a crazy person, talking about heroes and warriors like we live inside a fantasy novel or something. And then I think of Joey, what if his dead-beat dad was something more than just that? What if i did become a hero, what if I actually saved the world. “so what are you offering?”


“I'm inviting you to join the most exclusive and powerful group in the whole world.”He extends his hand towards me and I take it.


“I’m in.”


“Congratulations,” he says, “You’ve just taken your first step towards becoming a Paladin.”

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

The Paladins #1, July 27 2011

The Paladins #1: Eric’s Misfortune


    Is drinking your own urine actually a good idea? I feel like the empty water bottle in my hand isn’t enough to persuade me to start lapping up some good old-fashioned pee. Hell, there’s gotta’ be some drinking water here somewhere! With the amount of people who normally drink fresh, clean water in Toronto every day, you’d think that when what looks like 99% of them are now only thinking about human flesh and how they are going to get it, there would be a bit of water left over. Or some food. Oh god what i wouldn’t give for some of those damned peas that I always scrapped of my plate. Mom, where are you! Get me some damn peas!
    I walk over to the semi-smashed window of the toy-store that I’m holed up in and look around at the carnage and destruction that plagues the streets of Toronto. It’s horrifying really, how in a matter of days an entire civilization can collapse into madness. The news reports stopped coming in a few days ago, the cable went out shortly after. I’ve been trying to call Amanda ever since, but I don’t have a signal. After she broke my heart and took my son away, i stopped caring, i put the shattered pieces of the organ that keeps me going into a small box and locked it, planning to never open it again. But now they’re all i can think about. The dead walk, turning the living into horrifying abominations, yet still the only person i can think about is Amanda, well Little Joey too.
    During the initial outburst, when people started to realize what was happening, that they no longer had lives, no longer had friends, no longer had laws, they began to transform. Not in the literal sense, like the ones who rose from the dead, or morphed into the freakish creatures, but mental they changed. Business executives and homeless men became one, morphing into pillagers, rioters, looters and even rapists. It seems like in the face of annihilation, every one's hand is revealed and the poker faces come off, opening up the evil within for the whole world to see.
    If that’s true, then my true face is a coward. I didn’t run to my family to protect them, i didn’t find a gun and start pulling some vigilante bullshit, i ran to this small, abandoned toy store figuring no one would want to loot a store filled with useless toys. Now, everywhere I look i see Joey’s face. I see how happy he would be with any of these toys, and i see how sad Amanda would be if Joey weren’t around anymore.
    I check my phone, still no damn service. Amanda, please be okay. You may be a heartless bitch but for god sakes don’t you leave my son to fight on his own. I couldn't imagine being a five year old kid in this mess of a world. I just pray that he will be okay, if anything, god, let him survive this. I don’t care if i live, just get him home safe.
    I look past the window again and see that the monsters have thinned out a little, if i walked quietly and weaved between the cars, I could probably get to the office tower next door. Once there i could climb the stairs up-to the roof and there i would most certainly have service, right? I take one last look at the toy-store and walk out the front door with nothing but the clothes on my back and the ceremonial Katana Blade that my grandfather gave me.
    Now, if my grandfather had have given me a real blade, and not something that looks like it could break with one swipe, that would have been great. But instead I'm stuck with this heavy good-luck charm that doesn't seem to be working.
    I crouch low, trying to avoid the gaze of anything near where I am. I don’t even know if that’s what they use, whether it’s sight, touch, or sound, either way, I don’t want any of it to happen. Silently my feet bring me closer to the building, one quiet step at a time. Just about across the street now, everything seems to be going fine. I look down and stumble as I almost step on the arm of a rotting corpse. My hands fly out to catch myself on something and the first thing i find is the abandoned car beside me. My hand smashes into the hood, pushing past some sort of alarm system and sending the car into shock. The horn blares, alerting anyone and anything for at least a kilometer. I see freaks dart up and look directly at me. Fear takes control, adrenaline pumps into my blood stream, and I take off towards the office building at full speed.
    I’m in for it now. For some reason my legs direct me to the stairwell, up and up and up, how tall is this building? I can hear the monsters screaming out below me, following me up the stairs. No time to stop, no time to turn around, all i can do is run. The fear guides me, bringing me closer and closer to that heavy metal door at the top of the stairs.
    I burst through it into the dim morning light and realize my mistake immediately. There are no adjacent roofs to jump to, no fire escapes. Just one lonely roof top. I can hear the monsters gnashing their teeth and running towards me, getting ever closer with each passing second. I pull out my phone, maybe, just maybe, i can get one last call out to Amanda, tell her i love her and that I always will, tell Joey that daddy was always there for him, and that i love him too. I pull out my phone, and two words are written across it in bright red letters.
    No Service
    I collapse onto my knees, ignoring the shooting pains that are going up my legs. I throw the phone as hard as I can off the ledge of the building. I don’t need it, not where I’m going. I see the first monster burst into the day light like I had. It’s ripped clothing and pale skin, the dead look in it’s eyes, the red blood dried onto it’s face. I contemplate jumping off the ledge, but don’t. I don’t deserve a quick death. I stand up and face the monster head on as piles of it’s brethren join it. I take a deep breath and sprint towards them.
    I always loved you, Joey. I’m sorry.