Jake's Story (Apocalypse Cultivation) ch. 30

I thought about how you guys liked that one POV shift chapter, how it grounded the world and helped with world building, so I decided to do one more.  

This one is long.  I hope you like it. :)

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Vincent Jones felt like his head was splitting.  He hadn’t had a headache until a couple of hours ago, and this night was the gift that just kept on giving.  It could be worse, though.  He felt eternally grateful for the nap he’d been able to take earlier in the day.

And at the moment, he was in the Warhounds armory--a converted History classroom--and watching a monster grab weapons and make them disappear into thin air.

And the monster, The Grim, was the single most terrifying Vince had seen in his entire life.  Vince was staying calm, as if the situation wasn’t freaking him out, but just barely.  Almost everyone else following “Jake” around was trembling.  Some were probably resisting running away, other must be keeping their hands away from weapons.

Vince had accepted the damned thing into the base and let him raid the armory because it was obviously the only way to prevent all his people from being wiped out.  He’d seriously consider fighting, going all out earlier...before the Grim had just pointed and created an explosion like a goddamn mortar had landed.

Ever since Purple Rain, Vincent had seen some crazy stuff, but nothing like that.  He wasn’t the only one who’d understood the implication of what he’d witnessed, either.  The Grim was bulletproof, could create explosions at will, and was so fast and strong that awakened Gary had completely failed to even inconvenience him.  And who knew what other abilities the creature had?

The Warhounds outside were ringing the building nervously, and everyone inside was totally on edge.  Only a few of the younger Warhounds like Helen seemed excited.  Vince could hear them.

“I can’t believe the Grim is here!” whispered Helen.

Her friend Patrick responded, “I know, right?  It sucks the internet went down for good or we could be like, post apoc celebrities!”

“We can still take pictures, though.  Are you taking pictures?  Take pictures!”

“I am, I am!  He doesn’t show up right, though.  I’m trying!”

Vince tuned them out.  He understood that somehow this monster had been posting messages online after Purple Rain, and even sending threatening videos to criminals.  That fact in itself was a mindfuck--a monster sending videos on social media.  It was possible that Jake was fighting for good...somehow.  The Grim had avoided talking about his past.  Maybe someone could ask a question about himself that their visitor might actually answer, but Vince couldn’t bring himself to do it.  It was hard to think clearly when every fiber of his body was screaming at him that he was in proximity to something incredibly dangerous.

And his eyes agreed with his instincts.

The Grim was wearing rags deep-stained with blood and other mysterious substances.  He didn’t smell, which was a blessing, but he looked like he should.  His body was muscular but gaunt, and he had something like pitch-black smoke rising from his body all the time, kind of like the mist that dry ice created while sitting on a counter.  Long claws grew from his pinky fingers, and it looked like he’d cut off his claws on his other digits.  A sheathed saber was stuck through his ratty-looking belt.

His teeth were sharp, jagged.  Whenever he spoke, he almost looked like he was chewing on the words.  He had horns curving back from his forehead over a demonic-looking, but vaguely human face.  But his eyes were the most disturbing part, somehow--like bright, merciless blue points at the bottom of a black void.

The way the Grim had broken Gary Price earlier like a toy was still fresh in Vince’s mind.  Some of the Warhounds were likely holding onto thoughts of revenge, but thankfully they weren’t acting on them.  Everyone knew how tough Gary was.  The man had shot himself a day ago just to show off.  He’d scared the hell out of some of the kids nearby in the process.

If Gary hadn’t been such an unlikeable person sometimes, Vince might have cared more that the man had been taken to the Warhounds’ makeshift hospital.  The truth was that that last few days, Vince had even wished that someone else a little smarter and more stable had gotten the other man’s incredible awakened ability.

But Gary’s low popularity was probably fortunate.  If the Grim had hurt someone everyone actually liked, it was more likely that someone would have done something stupid by now in retaliation.  Vince really didn’t want  to risk any more incidents.  Luckily, everyone was listening to him for the time being.

Vincent had been more or less nominated to lead the Warhounds, the core of whom were buddies from his Army days and some friends from town.  He would have never imagined that his experience as a Combat Engineer O3 would lead to a leadership role in the apocalypse!  And the pressure would be bad enough without knowing that Maddie and little Roy were holed up in the Warhound family apartments.  He couldn’t let anything happen to them--he wouldn’t.

So for now he’d play along with this monster, hope the Grim would leave, and also hope that everything the creature had said so far was nonsense.  Because the world was bad enough.  He didn’t want to imagine anything worse--anything even more terrible for his son to witness.

He just wanted this creature gone, but he was also the leader of these people, so he had to man up and find his spine.  Ignoring business wouldn’t be good or anyone.

“Okay,” said Vince.  “Let me get this straight...Jake.  There are currently people and...monsters working to open up a portal to Hell, and if they succeed, the entire state is going to be FUBAR.  And the way they are doing this has been human sacrifice.”

The monster shook his horned head.  “Not Hell, not the big one, I said ‘a’ hell.  There are hell-like dimensions.  They suck. You don’t want them here, trust me.  And yeah, human sacrifice.  Mostly children, probably,” grated Jake in his awful voice.  The disturbing visitor was currently looking at a Kel Tec KSG bullpup shotgun.  He nodded thoughtfully, and the weapon disappeared along with a few boxes of ammo.

Vince’s mouth was dry and he had to work some saliva onto his tongue before responding.  “And who is doing all of this? Don’t get me wrong, the world has gone batshit and monsters aren’t the only problems.  We have thieves, rapists, and murderers out there...and other groups that would like to have our base and supplies.  But I think we would have noticed if a bunch of demon people were running around doing voodoo rituals and opening portals to hell.”

On the other side of the room, Keith Jackson snickered.  A few other warhounds cracked a smile, overcoming their unease with humor.

But the monster didn’t answer right away.  Instead, he theatrically sighed as he examined a 7mm rifle, working the action and looking through the scope.  Vince felt a flash of irritation.

Finally, Jake said, “Oh really?  You think it’s far-fetched?  What someone had told you a few weeks ago that the world was going to end when a Violet Rain, or Purple Rain turned a bunch of people into monsters and more creatures started showing up to eat people and destroy things? That the world as we know it would end?  Could you have imagined a month ago that you would be chatting with anything like me as I shopped your armory?  And where do you think all these new monsters are coming from?  People turned into zombies and ghouls from Purple Rain, maybe a few other things.  But not giants.  Where are the giants coming from, Vince?”

Vincent ground his teeth.  “We don’t know.”

“Well, I will help you out with that!  Free knowledge. There are little portals that open up randomly all over the world now.  Sometimes they drop items, or people, or transport people from one place to another on Earth.  Rarely they create a small, stable portal to another world.  But most often they leave behind monsters.  And as the years go by, the average monsters will get stronger.  Location matters, too.  There is a dragon in the Colorado Rockies right now.”  He grumbled, “Not many people know about that yet, though.”

Nobody in the room was smiling anymore.

“As for who is doing it, I’m pretty sure the Macon Protectors are involved.”

"The Macon Protectors!?" Erupted Ben.  "Bullshit!  They're the good guys!  They patrol more than anyone else and help keep the roads clear of monsters!  Like, they even run a soup kitchen for hungry people!"

Lance eyed his nephew and wished he'd shut up. Ben had a good heart, but he wasn’t the brightest bulb.  The truth was, Vince had actually thought something was off about the Macon Protectors for a day or two. For such a do-gooder group, they never seemed too concerned about the evil shit the Screaming Demons group was doing around town.  The Demons had even been murdering people for supplies.

Vince had sent messages to all the other local groups about the Screaming Demons and had gotten silence in return, but the lack of response from the Macon Protectors had been the most notable.

The other Warhounds didn’t all really know about this, though.  Vincent glanced around and realized that Ben seemed to be speaking for most of the others.  Oh well, let’s see what Jake says, he thought.

"I thought so too at first," said Jake.  Now he was making batteries disappear.  “But I got a bunch of little clues that Macon isn’t as safe, relatively, as it looks at first glance even before I interrupted a fissure witch ceremony."  He made a face and muttered, “I should have listened to the note my parents left.”

"Note?  A what?  Fissure witch?"  Ben frowned.

"Bad stuff.  Don't worry about it.  Anyway, I’m mostly sure we can start with the Macon Protectors.  See where the trail leads.  There is no way these yahoos are attempting what they’re trying to do at the sort of scale they would need without organization.  Some backing."

Ben seemed even more offended.  "Hey Jake! Monster! You aren’t listening to me!  The Macon Protectors even take in people with no home, no hope! They find people on the run, rescue them on the road, and bring them to safety!"

"Let me guess, safety is in their territory, maybe behind fences or in a big building downtown, and none of the refugees are ever seen again, right?"

"Well...I actually witnessed the protectors help an entire family, a mother, older son and two little kids! They gave them food and everything!"

"Did you ever see them again?" Asked Jake.  “The family?”

"How could I? I have stuff to do and they went into the Macon Protectors AO…"  Ben’s voice trailed off.  He must have realized that he was not doing a great job of disproving anything Jake had suggested.

"Think about it," said Jake.  "If you needed a bunch of human sacrifice in an area, which would be easier: fighting everyone, or acting like the good-guy-hall-monitors?  If everyone thinks you are the ‘good guys,’ you get a free pass, everyone leaves you alone...hell they might bring your prey right to you so you can make them disappear!  Nobody would ever question why you’d be carting around groups of random people.  And if you have a secret deal with the openly murderous group in the area, you can even secretly help them keep pressure on everyone else so they don’t ask too many questions."

"What do you mean by that, Mr. Grim?" Asked Helen.  She chewed her lower lip. “The deal part?”

Jake shrugged.  "I bet you all have problems with the Screaming Demons group.  Have you heard of them hitting the Macon Protectors?  Ever?  Probably not.  And think about that. The protectors are always driving around, looking for monsters...or people, right?"  The way Jake had said ‘people’ was sinister.  "Wouldn’t they be the best ambush targets for gear-hungry psychos?  But the Screaming Demons go after houses instead, even defended ones?  That doesn’t make much sense if you think about it.  I’ve seen the Protectors driving around at night.  They have pretty advanced magic, too.  Good gear.  Where did they come from?  Where did they get all of that gear and the money?  The Post Apoc Kings are all the rich people in town who aren’t hiding, right?  So who the hell are the Macon Protectors?"

Ben started to say, “But they--”

Jake chuckled darkly.  "’Macon Protectors’ my ass.  Those assholes almost pulled it off, and you all didn't suspect a thing."  He turned, directing his terrifying, glowing gaze directly at Ben.  " Was it because they have ‘Protectors’ in the group name?  Maybe they wear nice clothes?  Has everyone already forgotten that some of the most crooked people in the world before Purple Rain dressed really nice?”  Jake tsked.

Vincent coughed and folded his arms.  He had to admit that the Grim was making a lot of sense, but he didn’t like how everyone else was taking it.  Beyond that, he didn’t like how the Warhounds were getting caught up in all of this.  "So you expect us to just accept all of this...with no proof... from a monster that is literally robbing us right now and that broke one of our best fighters?"

"Hell no," said Jake.  “I expect you to go with me because I’m way stronger than you and I’m threatening you to do it.  I am bullying you with force, not pretending otherwise.  And when we get to the good ol’ Macon Protectors stomping grounds, I’ll prove to you that you should fight with me.  If the evidence isn’t there, if I’m wrong, I’ll slink off in shame and you’ll never see me again.  You won’t have lost anything other than a few gallons of gas and some time.”

Only about half of the Warhounds in the amory had seen the Grim first enter the building.  Cathie was one of them.  She wasn’t holding her 1911 anymore, she had it holstered, and she’d gotten a coat somewhere.  Vincent was glad she’d come along.  Cathie was one of the smartest people in the entire Warhounds group.

She addressed Jake squarely, without a hint of fear.  “Won’t lose anything?  If we go with you, our base will be undefended, won’t it?”

“It’s not an issue,” said Jake.  “I’m not a monster.”  He laughed at his own joke.  Then he said levelly, “There are families here that need protection.  You need to leave people behind to guard your base.  But as for the other groups around Macon, they won’t be a problem.”

“Why?” asked Vincent.

“Because they’re going to come with us.”

Cathie blinked rapidly and shook her head.  “Beg pardon?”

“After this, I think we should roll out and go pay our buddies the Post Apoc Kings a visit,” said Jake.  He held up a pistol and said, “This is a CZ Shadow 2.  Why in the hell do you have a pistol this nice in a classroom armory instead of being carried?  Oh well.”  The pistol vanished.

Cathie shook her head and asked, “Pay the Post Aoc Kings a visit!?”

Vincent’s headache got worse.

***

Before leaving the Warhounds base, Jake had asked where all the Macon-based groups were located.  Then he’d nodded like he’d known all along.  Now the Warhounds convoy was getting closer to the Post Apoc Kings base, an upper middle class  residential area surrounded by a makeshift barrier of vehicles.

Vincent was driving a Jeep.  Jake was in the passenger seat.  In the middle of the convoy, one of the Warhounds with a powerful sound system was blasting, “Love Shack,” playing music like Jake had instructed.  The Grim kept insisting they would eventually be fighting vampires, and claimed that for the inexperienced, unmagical, or unawakened, the things could mess with people’s minds.  Music was supposed to help.

For Vincent, it was just one more weird thing to accept while he traveled around with the talking nightmare that was somehow becoming even more scary over time.

The area near Macon didn’t have many monsters, mostly thanks to the efforts of the Macon Protectors, but the odd zombie shuffled toward the convoy, attracted by all the noise.  Whenever that happened, the convoy slowed down, and one of the Warhounds packing a .22lr rifle with a silencer would shoot until they got a headshot.  “We are getting close now, right?” asked Jake.

“I think so, yeah,” said Vincent.  He kept his eyes fixed on the road.  All the lights of the convoy lit up the night, which was comforting, but also illuminated the Grim in an unsettling way.  The Jeep’s top was down, and the windows were rolled down too.  This helped Vincent communicate with the Warhounds on motorcycles that took orders back to the rear.

Last month I was selling AC units, he thought.  Now I’m a Mad Max leader with my monster boss riding shotgun.  He had to stifle a laugh.

Suddenly Jake ordered, “Stop the convoy.”

Vince didn’t even ask why.  He just slowly applied the brakes, and all the other vehicles followed his lead.  Now the music from the middle of the convoy had changed to, “The Devil Went down to Georgia.”  Before the jeep had even stopped moving, Jake jumped out.

“What’s going on?” he asked.  Jake just waved at him and walked forward.  All the lights from the caravan illuminated the stretch of road completely.  The forest at the side of the street looked ominous, full of shadows, but Vince didn’t see anything dangerous.

The radio crackled and Tom, one of the other Warhounds leaders asked, “What is he doing, Boss?”

“Hell if I know,” Vince answered.

Jake headed straight for a driveway at the side of the road.  As usual, when it wasn’t swirling around or grabbing things, the monster’s weird cape undulated like it was underwater.  The effect was disturbing under good, indoor lighting, but outside like this, illuminated by headlights, the effect was nightmarish.

Vince would bet that someone in the convoy was aiming at Jake.  Probably a few people.  He prayed to Jesus that nobody would be dumb enough to take a shot.  Please don’t be stupid, he hoped.  Just be patient until the Grim gets bored and leaves.

In the light of all the vehicles, Jake veered to one side of the driveway he’d looked like he’d been approaching.  He stepped into the deep ditch by the side of the road.  After he waved a hand, a .22 rifle with a silencer attached appeared from nowhere.  Vince recognized the weapon as one the Grim had taken from the Warhounds armory.

Jake aimed at the large culvert under the driveway and rattled off three shots.

A hiss and a scream came from the dark under the driveway before a ghoul surged out of it.  The monster shrieked as it leapt at Jake, but the Grim didn’t seem surprised, he just tossed his rifle to the side.

Then Jake moved so fast he seemed to turn into a smoky blur.  One moment he’d been standing in a ditch with a ghoul jumping at him, and the next he was gripping the creature by the throat and slamming it into the road.  The ghoul rolled away, hissing and coughing.

Jake was on it a second later.  The ghoul clawed at him savagely, but Jake caught its wrist in one hand and savagely kicked it in the ribs.  With a sharp cracking sound, the monster’s entire body left the ground.  Jake savagely punched the creature in the head, caving in half its skull.  When he drew his hand back from the strike, he slashed its throat with the single claw on his pinky.  Dark blood was all over the road.  As the ghoul gurgled and thrashed on the ground, Jake wrenched its arm around in a circle as he stood.  He strained for a moment, his foot on his dying enemy’s chest and actually managed to tear the arm off before throwing it aside.

Vince’s blood ran cold.  Ghouls were incredibly dangerous--tough and strong--but Jake had just destroyed one like a cat torturing a mouse.

The Grim bent down for a second.  He looked like he was sucking in air or something.  Then he straightened and collected the rifle that he’d thrown aside.  A moment later, he vanished before reappearing back near the jeep.  Vince’s heart just about burst from his chest.  Did the damn thing just teleport?!

“Sorry about the stop, but I wanted to test my strength.  Needed to eat, too.  You all should stay here for a while, okay?”

“Stay here?” asked Vincent robotically.  He couldn’t believe what he’d just seen.  He was recalculating how strong the Grim was.  Jake could have dismantled Gary as easily as he’d just dismembered the ghoul.  He hadn’t even used a weapon other than the rifle to scare the monster out of the cultert.  The single punch he’d delivered had probably been enough to kill it, but Jake had those claws, too…

“Yes.  It might complicate things if you all roll up to the Post Apoc Kings base right now.  Wait here for about an hour, then come meet me there.  It’s about a mile and a half away now, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.  Stay here.”

Then without another word, Jake turned, his disturbing cape flapping behind him...and vanished into the night again.  Literally vanished.  One moment he was there, the next he wasn’t.

Tom’s voice came over the radio again.  “Boss?”

“Yeah?”

“What the hell just happened?”

Vincent ran a trembling hand over his face.  “The Grim just had a snack, I think.  And we are supposed to wait here for an hour.”

There were a few moments of silence before Tom responded, “And we’re gonna do that?”

“Tom, he knows where we live.”  Vince let go of the talk button and chuckled.  Then he keyed the mic again and said, “Yeah, we’re gonna wait.  And let’s hope Jake stays on our side.”

From behind him in the Warhounds caravan, a new song was playing--a James Brown song, “Night Train.”  When Tom finally answered, he just said, “Yeah.  Okay.  I’ll tell the crew.”

A few minutes later, Vince heard the sound of gunshots from the general direction of the Post Apoc Kings.  And even though the Kings had shown up at the Warhounds base making threats and demands earlier that night, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for them.

Only minutes later, he heard the rattle of distant gunshots, maybe an explosion, and figured that Jake had found the Post Apoc Kings.

***

About an hour later, Vince led the Warhounds to the Post Apoc Kings base, and the Kings were already outside, in vehicles, apparently waiting for them.

The Grim was standing on the road, his blue eyes blazing in the darkness.  Vince slowed to a stop when Jake waved him down.

“You are going to link up with the Post Apoc Kings now,” said Jake.  “They’ll follow you.  I’m going to head to the Night Rangers next.  It’s kind of on the other side of town but I can cut through the woods.  It’ll be quicker.  Take your time getting there, maybe another hour.  Then if the Rangers are gonna join, they’ll link up and we will head to town.  We should be ready right before dawn, which is probably for the best.  You guys can’t see in the dark.”

“So the Kings are coming with us.  ...Just like that?” asked Vince.

“What do you mean?”  Jake cocked his head quizzically, and the effect was disturbing.  His horns reflected the moonlight.

“How did you convince them?”

“Same way I did with you,” said Jake.  He made his ghastly, sharp-toothed smile.  “I proved that if I wanted to, I could kill them all, and asked them to follow me until I either prove my point, or I run away in shame.”

“Oh.  I see.”

“Good.  So like I said, head to the Night Rangers base.  I’ll meet you there.”  Jake waved a hand and vanished into the night like a ghost.

Vince swallowed.  He didn’t even react when a stony-faced Post Apoc King on a motorcycle tossed a radio on the passenger seat of his jeep before speeding off to the Kings formation.  They’d be following the Warhounds.

After the entire procession was slowly moving again, the radio crackled to life.  “Vince, this is Sam.”

Sam Mowat was actually calling him on the radio.  That was rich.  Sam was the leader of the Post Apoc Kings, the man who’d approached the Warhounds base demanding that they let him into their compound to poke around.

Vince’s headache was slowly starting to get better after he’d taken some pills earlier. Thank God.  He picked up the radio.  “This is Vince.  Go ahead.”

“Vince, so...we are following a monster now.”

“Yup.  Seems like it.  The internet people call him Heavenly Grim.”

“I know that,” said Sam.  He sounded frustrated, but also fascinated, and maybe a little scared.  “But what is he?  Like, there is no way that is a normal monster.  Is he a demon or an angel?”

“Maybe he’s nothing like that,” said Vince.  “I don’t know.”  He sighed.  “But I am getting a really, really bad feeling that everything he’s been saying about stuff going on in town might be true.”

“Me too.”

After thinking a moment, Vince rekeyed the mic and said, “So what now?  You guys are coming with us?”

“We don’t really have much of a choice.  This was all sudden.  Some of the guys are convinced we’re all heading for an ambush.  But If the Grim is right, that there are vampires and other shit out there fixin’ to talk over the area, we gotta be ready for it.”

“I agree, but what do you mean?”  Vince frowned.

“What I mean is that we should bury the hatchet until all this shit is done,” said Sam.

“Bury the hatchet?  The way I see it, that’s not my call.  We weren’t the ones making threats, and we haven’t done anything wrong.  So what hatchet is there to bury?  Unless maybe you mean that you guys are going to stop making accusations without proof.  Is that it?”

“You’re making this harder than it has to be,” grated Sam.

“Yeah, well, I am painfully aware that I almost got shot earlier tonight for something my group didn’t even do!  Then I met our ghoul-eating friend the Heavenly Grim.  Excuse me for being grumpy.”

The mic clicked a few times as Sam kept depressing the talk button and not saying anything.  When he finally spoke, it sounded like his speaking volume was a bit lower.  “Uh, about that.  You can probably understand why I thought the way I did.  When we went to your base.  People have been murdered in my territory, man.  Bad business.  But, uh, I guess I might owe you an apology.”

Vince chuckled.  “You think?”  He didn’t say anything else for a while, just focused on driving forward at a crawl, giving the Grim enough time to do...whatever he was doing.  At this point he wasn’t going to be surprised if they showed up and all the Night Rangers had formed a neat line, ready to go to war with a smile.  Sure, the more the merrier, he thought sardonically.

At least the other groups weren’t all complete strangers.  Since Vince had been in sales before Purple Rain and had gone to High School in Macon, he was sure to see familiar faces in every other group.

He reflected for a moment on how weird this entire situation was.  His thoughts kept returning to what Jake said would happen to Macon, and maybe the rest of Georgia.  Hell on earth.  If it’d just been Macon under some sort of doom prophecy, Vince would have been tempted to take his family and try escaping, or maybe even take all the Warhounds with him.  But it was a dangerous world, and the farther someone traveled now, the chance they had of actually reaching their destination.  Trying to leave the state right now would be...bad.

Vince also had to concede that Jake had probably been telling the truth about portals.  He was self aware enough to admit it made no sense to be sceptical of portals to another world when he’d already witnessed Purple Rain and was currently leading a convoy of armed local men to a battle with possible vampires.  Jake’s claims of the Macon Protectors being rotten weren’t that hard for Vince to accept, but the other stuff was tough.  Maybe he just didn’t want to believe.  Either way, the convoy was still blasting music.  Someone was playing Country now, this time something by Alan Jackson.

The radio was heavy in his hand as he thoughtfully tapped it against his thigh.  It was actually nice to be in the jeep by himself, now.  It helped him think.  Vince had experience dealing with large groups of people, but he would always feel most comfortable while alone with his thoughts.

He kept his speed slow and the entire convoy followed him, killing the occasional monster, basically making a racket.  When he drove past a group of houses, he wondered if any of them had people hiding inside.  Everyone who was still lying low might have the right idea, who knew?  But Vince could imagine that any folks hiding were probably scared shitless as the Warhounds and Post Apoc Kings passed.  Dozens of armed men in vehicles crawling along at ten miles an hour, blasting music.  It was like something out of a cheesy movie.

Being responsible, or feeling responsible for the lives of survivors still in their homes would be a huge burden.  Vince felt a wave of relief that the Warhounds had claimed the school, a location big and secure enough to protect everyone’s family.  He realized that he’d stumbled across some fresh sympathy for Sam’s situation.

But Sam had still threatened the Warhounds earlier.

Vince had a sudden thought.  His eyes gleamed as he keyed the radio and said, “Hey Sam.”

“Go ahead.”

With a grin, Vince asked, “The Grim.  Did he rob you guys, too?”

Sam’s voice sounded strained.  “Robbed.  Fuck.  Yes.  So it wasn’t just us, huh?  He took a bunch of gas, some weapons, bullets, and other things from the stores.”

“Gas?”

“He made a few hundred gallons vanish,” grumbled Sam.  “This was after he blew up a truck, beat up one of my best fighters, and scared the hell out of us, telling us that Macon is going to get sucked into hell.”

Vince did a double take.  “Wait, the Grim blew up your vehicle and also stole your gas?”  He began to laugh.

“Well...yeah.  There wasn’t anything we could do.  He obviously took shit from you too, or you wouldn’t be asking.”  Sam’s voice was definitely sour.  When the Kings leader spoke again, he sounded a bit hesitant.  “So Vince, do you believe all of this vampire stuff, or are you just playing along?”

Overhead, the stars twinkled like nothing of any note was happening on earth.  If he looked up, Vince could almost imagine that nothing had changed.  But it had.  He had responsibility now, again, and he was not the type of person to run away from reality anyway, much less when people were counting on him.  He held the radio up and said very seriously, “Honestly, I’m still not sure yet, but I don’t think we can afford not to take everything Grim has said seriously, at least until we find out for sure it’s bullshit.”

Sam sighed.  “I was afraid you were going to say that.”