Mars Michaels... Steam Pirates of The Wongenema. (Part Three)

Once she was safely inside the canoe, he handed her the pack, settled in behind her, and pushed them away from the bank. She was a bit nervous at first, but he managed to calm her nerves and once they got moving, she actually found the experience to be rather enjoyable. The natural current of the river- as it turned out, did most of the work, leaving the two of them to figure out how to steer. Watch paddling on either side of the canoe. They weren’t long in the water before Ari spotted some movement along the banks, giving them time to take the canoe ashore on the other side. They pulled it up to the opposite bank, covered it with brush, and proceeded to investigate the movement on the other side of the river. He scoured the trees on the other side through the field glasses before he turned to look for Ari.

“Three fully equipped horses but no riders. They’re just sort of wandering around eating grass. Could be bait too,” He told her. 

Thirty yards down river, he saw a leg sticking up out of the water. He cautioned Ari about staying quiet and out of sight until they knew exactly what they were dealing with. He moved down along the bank until he was directly in view of the body. There were three of them, all dead as dead. Someone shot them and stole their clothes and boots, and no doubt their guns and ammunition. This meant, whomever done it, were now armed and could still be watching for other riders or people to show themselves. Resources of any kind could get you killed and were of great value even in this remote area of the countryside. He made his way back to Ari.

She was hiding in the brush, trying to keep an eye on the canoe and the opposite side of the riverbank at the same time. He came up behind her and gently tapped her on the shoulder; both of their voices fell into a whisper. He pointed to the trees across the water.  

"Looks like they were part of a scout team, someone ambushed them. They could still be around, we need to be careful." he said.  

He used the field glasses again and slowly scanned through the trees, stopping when he saw someone lying low in the brush. 

“They’re up there alright, about thirty yards down river. Probably waiting for us to come floating by, we’re not getting past them in the water, not now anyway.” he said. 

They pulled the canoe up on the bank and discovered it to be lighter than expected, and together they managed to move it on land up to where they could get it far enough to launch it safely undetected by the men across the river. Ari however was beginning to get tired, so they put it down behind the brush cover while Mars watched the opposite side of the river for movement.

Now he could clearly see all three men moving in the opposite direction from their position.  

“I don’t believe they know we’re here.” He told her. 

She was leaning up against his back when a dreadful thought crossed her mind, she tapped him on the shoulder lightly. 

“Hey Mars. What if this was their boat that we took.” He slowly lowered the glasses and looked back at her. 

“Then I suppose we’d best get it back in the water and get moving before they realize it’s missing.”

They waited another ten minutes before launching the canoe back in the river and into the current and continued on their way. They went another five hundred yards when the sound of gunfire began to faintly echo around them. The current seemed to get stronger, and it pushed the canoe to the left, and they quietly slipped into a small cove unnoticed. The woods drew strangely quiet as they climbed out of the canoe and worked their way up into the first path leading deeper into the trees. He looked back at Ari, who was right on his heels. 

“Do you have any idea where we are?” He whispered back at her. She gave him a confused look.

“No. I’ve never been this far west before.” She whispered back at him.  

They moved up the side of the hill, trying to be ever so quiet until they knew exactly whom it was that they were dealing with. Once over the rise, they found themselves standing amongst several dead bodies. Mars slowly moved through the grim scene, with Ari still fast at his heels. 

“Who do you think did this?”

 She’d barely gotten the question past her lips when they heard the unmistakable sound of boots running through the woods. They soon found themselves surrounded before they could so much as move, and not long after, at the wrong end of several crossbows pointed directly at them. The largest of the five-armed men slowly walked toward them, he motioned behind him for two of the others to collect the guns from the bodies. 

"Get the weapons to the boats, we'll take these two to Eddlewood." 

Mars looked him up and down cautiously. He was huge, perhaps well over 6 feet tall, with broad shoulders and long blond hair that fell well down his back. He had menacing blue eyes that gave him a stern look.

“Klecko just doesn’t give up, does he? So what? He just keeps sending more men into our territory, expecting us to just lie down and surrender?” 

Mars returned his stern look. 

“I don’t know anyone named Klecko, and I certainly don’t work for them. We are just up here trying to figure out a way to help free her friends from the labor camps.” He said, nodding toward Ari. 

He gave Ari a surprised look. “You were inside the camps?” He asked. She nodded.  

She went into detail about how she was beaten every time she refused to do the assigned tasks, many times the guards at the ranch would tie her up with ropes around her wrists and beat her relentlessly. Until such treatment had reached well beyond the point of being unbearable. That was when her and one of her fellow prisoners had begun to formulate a desperate plan of escape. One day while pulling weeds near the fences while the guards were distracted, they crawled under the wire, ran for the wooded hillsides, and never looked back. Five man hunter teams had followed them through the woods for nearly three days before they’d decided to split up to make themselves harder to track. That was when she’d run into Mars.

The Leader of the scout team told them his name was Oscar, and he was from a settlement down river called Eddlewood. He explained that Klecko had been sending men deep into their territory, trying to get his hands on a person called the Builder to make the machines for him. Mars walked along the trail with him.  

“What machines Oscar?” He asked. 

“Like the ones that power our boats.” He replied, nodding toward the river. 

They took Mars and Ari with them farther down the trail before they began to turn down back toward the Wongenema River. With his curiosity growing, Mars eagerly followed behind him. He just had to see this machine. They led them down a steep cliff face overlooking the Wongenema River, along a narrow, winding trail that seemed almost hidden from the naked eye. There were wooden structures built directly into the cliff, each had two guards armed with what looked like more crossbows. Below there was a secluded cove with three wooden docks extending at least thirty feet out into the river. Moored beside them were two large river cruisers. For the first time things were becoming clear to him, Klecko was running out of resources, and he was out to get whatever these people had at any cost. Oscar led them down to a large boat, nodding to the two armed guards as they walked past. As they stepped down into the upper deck, the first thing that struck him was two neatly piled stacks of wood on either side. He gave Oscar a curious look

He took them down below deck to the engine room, where there was more wood stacked along the sides of a long room. They watched as two men fed wood into a firebox. To Ari, it seemed rather noisy, and the fumes were most foul down there made her want to hold her breath.

“This is a steamboat?” Mars asked, turning to Oscar. 

He nodded. 

“Yeah, I’m not exactly sure how it works, but we use that firebox to heat the boiler which is full of water, which creates a pressurized steam system that makes the engine run. That’s kinda it I think.” Oscar said. “This is what Klecko is after, he’s running out of resources, so he wants the steam engines to use as generators for electricity.” Mars said. 

Oscar led them back above deck into the wheelhouse. Mars and Ari followed along behind them now listening carefully to every word he spoke with a renewed sense of interest.

“That’s not all he’s after, he wants these boats intact. Our leader Michael believes that he’ll try to use them to travel up and down the banks of the Wongenema, he wants to raid the smaller settlements that are currently out of his reach. He isn’t just running out of fuel oil-he’s running out of the gunpowder that he uses to reload his ammunition with. Very soon they’ll be down to crossbows, swords and knives too. Somewhere along the along this river there is a depot full of gunpowder, Klecko has been trying to find it for the past two years now, Michael seems to think that it's about 30 miles or so from here, but so far-we haven’t been able to locate it ourselves either. We have 4 fully functioning steamboats on the river right now, and another one that is under repair. If he takes Eddlewood, that’s only the beginning. We lose our crops, our livestock, the steam engines and our ability to protect free trade along the river. If he gets control of the river, he’ll find that powder depot, and then no one within 150 miles is safe.” 

The cruiser slowly glided out into the middle of the Wongenema and turned towards Eddlewood. Michael was going to want to hear the latest news. 

~Scratch. A.B.T. Copyright © 2011~

Mars Michaels... Steam Pirates of The Wongenema. (Part two.)

 

They kept themselves at a safe distance, up along the northern slope of the mountainside that overlooked Saddlerville because Ari knew that there wouldn’t be any guards posted there. Mars always had a small pair of field glasses that he carried in his coat, and he spent several minutes scanning every part of the small township that he could lay his eyes on.

“They usually plant crops by mid to late July so they’ll be ready for harvest by fall,” she told him.

The buildings were small and old and had fallen into quite the state of disrepair, and it appeared that very little was being done to them in the way of maintenance to keep them upright and fully functional. There were probably twenty or so out buildings nearest the edge of town that were overlooking large fields of unharvested vegetables, while some others nearer the center of the township seemed better kept up. All the buildings were of the same color, a dreary looking battleship gray. None of which held any particularly distinguishing markings. And finally, all roads in and out of Saddlerville were completely fenced off, as was the entire township. From what he concluded, it, for all intents and purposes, looked like and indeed was- a fully functioning concentration camp. Ari gently nudged him in the ribs and gestured towards the road leading up to the main gate of the complex. 

Four armed guards were walking towards an approaching horse-drawn wagon that carried eight large metal drums in the back of it. Two walked around the sides, inspected the contents, and motioned for them to open the gate. Mars looked sideways at Ari.

“What’s all of this, then?” He asked.

“Heating oil vendors… They bring it in from a processing plant that is still in operation somewhere up along the coast. They make the 10-day trip up twice a month to trade for livestock and fresh vegetables and whatever else they find useful. They unload it at a docking station at one of the out buildings at the other end of town. It’s right next to the depot where they store ammunition for their guns.”

“So they rely mostly on heating oils in the winter?” He asked.

She nodded. 

They watched the comings and going of the guards for several hours, with Mars tracking and taking notes of their every movement meticulously. From what he could see, the largest part of the force was at the center of town and consisted of between thirty and forty men. Again, Ari nudged him.

“Lately, though, I heard some of the guards saying that there was a problem with the heating oil.” she whispered to him. He gave her a curious look.

“Like what problems?”

“The stuff they’ve been getting lately isn’t of the best quality. It doesn’t burn clean, it can make you sick if you breathe in the smoke directly. Conway-the head guard, seems to think that they are diluting it with something at the processing plant, because the supplies might be running out soon. And I also hear that they are doubling up on their patrols higher up into the mountains along the river.”

Again, he gave her a curious look before returning his attention to the scene below.

“Why? What are they looking for?”

She shrugged.

“I don’t know. It must be important though, I mean for Klecko to send half of his forces up river on patrol.” 

“Klecko, Is that the person in charge?” He asked.

She stared down at the fences of Saddlerville, her face contorted into a frown, as if recalling some bad memory.

“Yeah, He runs this place from the ranch. That’s where he lives I think, I can take you there if you like, we’ll have to go deeper in the woods though. There’s supposed to be a path farther up so you can see anything coming up from below. It’s the highland trail. It connects directly with the trail that takes you to the ranch,” she said.

She led him higher up through the trees to where the highland trail was, and then they hiked undetected for almost two miles until they came to a second trail that sloped down along the mountain side. She motioned towards the downward slope and began the walk down, followed cautiously by Mars.

“For someone who was new to the area, you certainly know your way around.” He told her.

“Yeah, well this wasn’t the first time that I escaped. They caught me the first time, though.”

She slid down into a ravine and held her forefinger up to her lips.

“This place they do watch rather closely. If we get caught, they will kill both of us.”

They moved slowly up in between two pine trees careful to stay low and in the underbrush, it was in a small valley still laden with fog and mist. A long elbow shaped building again with a fence encompassing the entire compound surrounded by open fields on all sides but two, which had been cultivated for more vegetables. The one in front and the one on the west side nearest the main road in were open. More armed guards roamed the outside of the building, he slipped back down behind the cover of the trees and underbrush and looked at Ari.

“Well Ari.” He said. “Whoever he is, both places are fairly well organized as far as their defenses go, it’s going to take more than two of us to free the people in both camps. We’re probably going to need to find out what they are looking for up river, maybe we can use whatever it is against them. Come on. Let’s get to the river I need to think about this.” He told her. 

They made their way back up the trail and followed it three hundred more yards west until it began to wind downward in the direction of The Wongenema River. Once alongside of the water, they found the hoof prints of the search party along the grass and mud riverbank. Mars knelt down to inspect them.

“Not more than a couple of hour’s old if I were to venture a guess. They’re heading west from the looks of things. They could be ten miles or ten yards from here by now. If we move, we’d best do it carefully.”

They followed along the riverbank for almost another mile before they stopped to rest, Ari could feel the familiar rumble of hunger in her belly, and soon she would be hungry enough to eat a raw fish. Mars went back into his pack while she investigated along the banks of the river. When he caught up with her, she was staring down at a rocky cove covered by heavy foliage. As he handed her a piece of dehydrated beef, she gave him a quizzical look.

 “Hey Mars? What do you suppose that is?” she asked, pointing at the cove.

He walked up beside her, took the field glasses from his inside pocket. He trained them on the small cove of water where her finger was pointing. A smile slowly spread across his lips. He patted Ari on the head. 

“That, my dear, is a canoe. You have great eyes, Ari.” He said.

They had to climb down to get to the cove, she almost lost her footing in the rocks more than once. He removed the pack from his back and began to inspect the canoe for possible leaks, when satisfied, he instructed her to get in while he steadied it.

“Ummm, Mars? What do we need this doohickey for again?” She asked

“It’s a canoe Ari, and we can move a lot faster down river in this than we can by going on foot. Just sit still once we get in and do exactly what I say. You just keep your eyes open for that patrol along the banks.”

~Scratch. A.B.T. Copyright © 2010

Mars Michaels... Steam Pirates of The Wongenema. (Part one.)

 

They will come to you sometimes while you sleep, you will see their faces, hear their voices as they softly call out your name

October 20th 2217. Saddlerville 10 Miles. 

The last 22 years had not been kind at all to what was left of Old Church Road, another 10 miles of potholes in front of him, and what seemed like a million behind. Another ten miles of walking towards what, he didn’t know, would there be people there? Would he find shelter? Would he find hope? Or maybe Saddlerville would be like any one of a thousand other small towns he’d gone through that had been long since abandoned by people who could no longer find comfort in the arms of a dead or dying community.

Maybe it would be just another in a long string of ghost towns, haunted by a life-long since buried in a past that seemed more and more distant with the turn of each and every new day. Now there were too many holes left in this world to try and fill. Society trying to cling to fragments of memories. Somehow it made sense-one could suppose, for people to try to rebuild, to hold together whatever was left, whatever they could salvage from the ashes of a nation without a governing body. All that remained were pockets of civilization now, one giant patchwork quilt that lay spread across a scarred landscape with nothing to go on, each making up the rules as they went along.

He turned back towards the sign and began walking again, the rain stopped and streams of sunlight made their way through the thick gray storm clouds. He heard the strange noise, it made an odd popping sound that echoed through the woods. He heard it once, and it slowed him-made him turn to look to the tree line alongside what was left of Old Church Road. When he’d heard it the second time, he stopped altogether to listen more carefully than before.

There were soft cursing sounds, and then silence, and then somewhat closer than before-the sounds of muffled heavy boots falling against wet sod and leaves. Feet running, now towards him. He turned his back around a large pine tree and ducked out of sight, just in time to see the three men dressed in dark gray battle fatigues carrying guns, the one in the lead giving them hand signals. They looked in several different directions, kneeling down in the wet grass, eyes searching in almost a panicked state through the afternoon mist and fog. before all three finally rose to their feet all at once.

“Well congratulations boys! We’ve managed to lose them, we should have followed the west fork back there along the trail. They haven’t even been through here.”

Another two emerged from the trees. The first looking at the leader shaking his head frantically.

“They didn’t back track either, somehow they lost us in the woods. Shall we go back to the beginning and start again, sir?”

“No- it's getting to be too late for that now. Wrap it up, let's get back to the horses.”

He looked around slowly for any sign of whoever- or whatever they were tracking, before circling his forefinger in the air, making an odd little sweeping motion before they all ran down the road and disappeared around the bend. Now his curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he found his feet almost involuntarily moving down the path, heading deeper into the woods. “What in the hell were they up to in here?” he followed it deeper and deeper, to where the trees grew taller and taller, and he could no longer see the sky.

The sounds of rushing water beating softly against rocks filled his ears, and he knew that he was near a river. It was getting late in the day anyway, time to stop for a rest. He gathered wood, built a fire, made a shelter. He sat by the fire at the water's edge and whittled away, until he heard the snapping of twigs in the woods behind him.

"Patience, not yet."

He would let them get closer, gathering more clues as to who it might be, before he made a move on them. They stumbled around, pretty big, definitely an adult, rather clumsy on their feet-probably a male. Finally, he rose to his feet and removed the long black leather coat before producing a pearl handled long blade. He stared into the thick underbrush, following the sounds with his eyes as they drifted back a bit deeper into the trees. Moving slowly forward, He could make out a figure some thirty feet in.

“Look, you can stay in there all night for all I care- or you can come down here and share my fire, I’ll be getting some fresh fish pretty soon here and I’ll be having dinner. You are welcome to join me, just as long as you don’t try anything.” He said.

They appeared in the clearing some twenty feet from him. Small. Frail. Thin framed, and quite dirty. It was hard to tell what color hair they even had because of all the dirt. Could have been blond, could have been brown, but definitely not black. They wore a dirty long sleeved shirt and ragged old blue jeans that were ripped in several places. And a pair of old sandals strapped across dirty feet. And most telling of all were the thick coke bottle glasses, and when they finally got close enough to actually see-Mars could tell that the person was female. He stared silently up at her, before motioning with his long knife to a tree stump by the fire. He returned his attention to the spear that he was whittling.

“I had assumed from all the noise you were making that you would be somewhat larger.”

She didn’t answer.

“Do you have a name, or am I going to have to make one up for you?”

“Ari. My name is Ari.” She said.

“Ari. That is a very pretty name.”

She didn’t answer.

“I’m Mars. It is nice to make your acquaintance, Ari.” He said, extending his hand to her.

She sat down on the tree stump.

“So. What kind of name is Mars?” She asked.

“It’s Southern. I believe so anyway.”

He reached into his pack and pulled out a red apple and threw it to her.

“I would imagine that you are pretty hungry; so that should do until I can spear us a couple of fat trout from that river. You sit tight, Ari. I won’t be long.”

He always carried a bar of soap with him for whenever he would have occasion to camp near fresh water lakes and rivers, and Ari bathed in the river-at his insistence, while he fished for dinner. After a great deal of trial and error, he managed to spear them four brown trout and already begun removing the guts and heads when she came back to camp fully cleaned and looking as fresh as a mountain breeze.

They sat and ate fish and talked long after dark, and she told him that she was seventeen years old and that she was originally from a small place called Clarksville, Pennsylvania, and she had been alone and on the road since she was fourteen. And he told her that his name was Marston Alan Michaels, and he was originally from a place called Decatur, Georgia, and people had always called him Mars. Because he was always considered by most people to be- well, different. They exchanged small talk until finally he could no longer hold his tongue.

“You know Ari, when I was out on the Old Church Road I saw five armed men searching the woods for something, they seemed rather desperate to find whatever it was, they were looking for you weren’t they?”

She lowered her eyes and nodded.

“I had the distinct impression that they were looking for two or more people.” He eyed her carefully.

“There were, two of us, but we split up back at the first trail fork, went our separate ways.” She said

“Who were those men?”

“It was a five-man hunter team. They go out on horse back almost daily looking for drifters and people too little or too weak to fight back. I was on the road for almost a year when they forced me to go with them. I- that is, we escaped from one of the labor camps in Saddlerville two days ago, they held me there for over a year against my will. I couldn’t take it anymore."

Her eye lay fixed staring into the fire as she recalled the ordeal, Mars leaned forward listening even more intently than before. Her words were troubling, the more she talked, the more the sadness echoed in her voice.

"They make the camp people work all day and sometimes at night, harvesting fields, feeding animals, building fences, digging holes. All they gave us to eat was half rotten fruit and vegetables, and we were lucky to get that. Sometimes they take the younger ones back to a place called the ranch I’ve heard stories that the girls they took there and even some of the boys were raped and beaten sometimes to death. It's a horrible place.”

He leaned back against the log, staring into the fire, letting her words roll across his ears as if he were carefully examining each and every one.

“You know Ari, after the world changed when it did, there were a lot of lost hopeless people, wandering across what was left of this country. There were no more rules to live by, the only real laws were the ones that people made for themselves. I’ve been all over, and you know what I have discovered?”

She shook her head no.

“That there aren’t, but two kinds of people left in this world, there are people who will help someone in distress, they do it because it’s the right thing to do mostly, because they want to. Human dignity didn’t just stop because the world stopped, that isn’t a right that we gave to one another as human beings, human dignity is a God given right Ari. One that God and only God has a right to take from us. And then there are those people that are of a lesser caliber, that would strip away your basic human rights simply because they derive great pleasure from inflicting pain."

 She listened quietly, slowly shaking her head from side to side.  

"They impose their will on others simply because they believe that they can, and most often do get away with it. The frail, the weak, they are the easiest prey. And when faced with a strength, and resolve that they are not familiar with, these people are more easily exposed as the cowards that they truly are. They will run and hide when faced with a terrible resolve. Such challenges fill them with a great fear, for they are cowards and are unjust.”

He took a piece of fish and slowly rolled it around in his mouth as he stared into the fire.

She sat quietly with her legs pulled up to her chest. His eyes slowly rose to meet hers.

“Now. You take my coat and cover up with it, because I want you to get a good nights rest. And when the morning comes, you are going to take me to see this Saddlerville. I would very much like to see it with my own eyes.”

~Scratch.. A.B.T. Copyright © 2011~

Mars Michaels... Longstown... Part Three: Closure.

 

They met at the stables nearest the southern end of Longstown just before sunrise, Crawley had procured two animals for them along with enough supplies for one day. including two hand guns complete with 12 rounds of repacked ammunition each. Although Joplin was only a four-mile ride, and it wouldn’t take them long to reach it, Crawley wanted to play it safe. He handed a revolver to Mars as they were leading the two animals from the stables.

“We only have twelve rounds apiece, so use them sparingly.” He told Mars.

They both mounted their horses and headed south down Stackmill road, the moon was still out enough for them to tell that there would be plenty of ground fog to help keep them hidden from anyone who may have been watching for intruders from the woods. To Mars, though- if they only had seven men with them, it would make more sense to keep them as close to the wagon as possible for protection. Providing, too, that they would even still be at the old Joplin Settlement where Crawley had sent them. True to prediction, they never even saw the sun come up as the light slowly seeped through the thick fog along Stackmill Road as they drew nearer to where the trail led off into the woods. Crawley cautioned him that the fork heading east would be coming up soon, and then it would be about a mile and another half back into the woods until they reached Joplin.

There were only two trails going in and out of the settlement on that side of the river, and Crawly suggested that they only rode the horses so far back in and then went the rest of the way on foot. Mars agreed, but was starting to get anxious about finding Chi’s mother. They walked about three quarters of a mile back into where Joplin sat by the Sturgess and sure enough there was the skinhead wagon right out in plain view. Crawley and Mars both patiently watched and waited, looking for just the right approach. But it wasn’t until they saw the mistake in their math that they decided to split up where each one would hit them at opposite ends. There wasn’t seven men to contend with, there were eleven. He noticed that two were near the woods, so Mars crept along until in just the right position to make a small noise tempting them towards the trees. He took the first near the under brush, covering his mouth with one hand while burying his knife deep into his throat with the other. One down and ten to go, and when the second came searching clumsily for the first-he was met with much the same fate. Crawley at the other end was having similar luck, showing that he was equally adept at stealth as was Mars, and when another skinhead unaware blundered into his path Crawley covered his mouth and quietly snapped his neck like a twig. Quickly, the odds were becoming more even. Three down-eight to go.

 

Mars quietly inched his way closer to the back of the wagon when he began to hear splashing in the water, followed by muffled sounds of laughter. There were three in the river splashing around naked in the water, cowering near the shore half naked and soaking wet was the little oriental woman. He looked to the other end of the wagon, and Crawley was already within striking distance. He held up the pistol and pointed to the river, and Crawley nodded silently as he crawled under the wagon's front axle and watched for the rest of the gang to show itself. Once he was settled in, Mars rose to his feet and calmly walked to the edge of the water and opened fire on the three unsuspecting skinheads, all three took direct hits. Two more barreled out from the mouth of the wagon where Crawley was waiting for them, Mars loaded three more bullets into the revolver and turned back towards the wagon looking for more.

“That’s only five. Plus the three in the trees, that makes eight, I counted eleven before. Where are the other three?” He asked Crawley.

He kept the gun up and out in front of him ready to fire, cautiously looking around the encampment.

“I dunno, maybe in the woods looking for food and fire wood.” Crawley said.

Mars, looking around-silently nodded in agreement. He took two steps forward as the first came rushing towards him with club in hand, Mars quickly raised the pistol and fired, striking him in the skull, he stumbled forward and fell just three feet from Crawley. He turned to the little oriental woman shivering at the water's edge. He turned and motioned for Crawly to check the wagon for a blanket to warm her with, and there cowering in the back of the wagon they found the other two skinheads. Crawly urged them down from the wagon at gunpoint and forced them to the ground. He reached in the back and pulled out a blanket and threw it to Mars.

“So you fellers like kidnapping and thievery, do you?” He looked at Mars and then back at the two men. “So, what did you do with the stuff that you stole from Longstown?”

Mars walked to the edge of the water and held the warm blanket open for her, which she cautiously accepted.

“It’s ok, you're safe now. I came here to get you for a friend, she’s waiting for you back at Longstown.” He said.

She tried to smile, but could only manage a blank stare.

“They are all-dead?” She asked.

He turned to look at them, and then her.

“Mostly-those two cowards over there are probably going back to Longstown to be punished.” He told her.

They tied the prisoners up separately until Mars went into the woods and brought both of their animals down to the river. The horses that had been pulling the skinhead wagon were still in their harness so they both agreed that Crawley and Chi’s mother would ride up in the wagon, the two prisoners would remain tied and forced to walk behind the wagon where Mars would trail behind with their two animals to keep an eye on them until they all reached Longstown. The trail leading out was rocky in places, but they managed to reach Stackmill Road before eleven o’clock in the morning, which meant they would be in Longstown well before sundown.

They stopped twice along the Nil Creek that ran beside of Stackmill twice to get water, and just when Crawley had thought that the tired undernourished animals pulling the wagon weren’t going to get much farther without food and rest-they rounded the final bend and Longstown came into view. Mars followed close behind as the wagon pulled to a final stop in front of the constable’s office, Four men came from the building and took the two prisoners into custody. Crawley tended to the tired animals, and Mars carefully helped Chi’s mother up onto the horse before climbing up in the saddle behind her.

“We’ll need to be finding a doctor to check her over before we reunite her with her daughter.” Mars told Crawley.

“Large gray two-story brick building at the end of the street, Doc Langford should be there.” Crawley answered.

He dropped her off at the doctor's office and rode back down to Alice’s to retrieve Chi, who as it turned out was already sitting on the porch with Alice. When they saw Mars coming down the street, they both stood abruptly, Chi’s young eyes lit up with anticipation. He pulled rein on the horse right in front of the porch and slowly leaned forward, looking down at Chi.

“Young miss. Have you ever ridden a horse before?” He asked.

She hastily shook her head no.

“Well, C’mon then, this will be your first time. Someone is waiting for you at the doctor's office.” He smiled.

Alice helped her up into the saddle. And he turned the animal around and headed back down the street. He pulled rein just in front of the doctor's office and told Chi to hang onto the saddle horn until he reached the ground and could get her down safely. He led her into the doctor's office and once inside the door she tore loose from his grip and bolted towards her mother. The two-from that point on, were inseparable. Chi’s mother's eyes swelled with tears as she looked up at Mars. He nodded and turned to the door where Crawley was waiting outside.

“You know you could stay on here, we could use your help.” He said.

Mars shook his head.

“What about them?” He motioned towards Chi and her mother.

“Alice is already making a spot for them.” He answered.

“I best be on my way in the morning then.”

As he walked back to Alice’s he could almost feel the voice roll across the back of his neck like a cold breeze. He turned towards it, and he saw her standing there, he looked up and down the empty street but knew, as he watched Crawley walk back into the doctor's office, that no one else could see her. No one ever did. He turned to face her.

“I’m not good with goodbye’s I should probably be heading east tomorrow.” He told her.

“And what of the child?”

“She has her mother now, that’s all every child needs is their mother.” He answered.

But as with everything in Mars Michaels life, it wasn’t that easy, and when he stepped out onto the front porch of Alice’s at dawn the next morning, he found Chi standing there waiting for him.

“I know that you’re going to leave now, because you have to.” She said.

He knelt down in front of her.

“I didn’t want to disturb you, Chi, I mean with goodbye.” He answered.

“I wasn’t waiting to say goodbye, I wanted to say thank you for helping me and my mother. We won’t forget about you.” Chi said.

“Could you do me a favor, little one?”

Her eyes widened a bit and she nodded yes.

“If you could take out that little flute of yours-you know, just every once in awhile, and just find a breeze to stand in and play it, and no matter where I am- I’ll hear it, and I’ll know that you are safe. Will you do that for me?” He asked.

She smiled and opened the door and watched as he walked down the street and slowly faded into the rising dawn. She went inside and softly closed the door behind her.

~FIN~

~Scratch.. A.B.T. Copyright © 2010~

Mars Michaels... Longstown: Two Man Posse... Part Two.

The township of Longs town wasn’t as large as it looked from a distance, the closer you got to it, in fact-the narrower the roads became. The buildings were in small groups but seemed to be spread out over an area of about two miles, still there were shops open that would barter and trade for whatever they could get of any value, and someone was definitely cleaning it up and getting the citizenry there organized. The people, though, seemed somewhat hesitant at the sight of strangers, and weren’t all that eager to engage in conversation. Still, Mars and Chi did manage to get someone to point them in the direction of a place where they could get a cold drink and trade for some food. Out of anything that a person could carry with them, tools-like knives, shovels, spades and even blade sharpening stones held a very high value and Mars had several sharpening stones with him. They stepped up onto the porch of a large Victorian style two-story house that had various signs in the windows, the paint was old and peeling, it was an off-white that made it look like something out of the 1800s. They heard a small bell ring as Mars swung open the front door, he looked down at Chi and winked. 

They walked into what looked like an old antique shop at a glance, there were various types of oil lamps and canisters of ball bearings, old refurbished chairs. They were smaller items like magnifying glasses small bowls of glass beads and small pocket knives and old wick lit cigarette lighters in a glass cabinet that was set up as a counter. There were stacks of mended blankets and some old coats and boots of various sizes and conditions in the corner of the lobby next to the front door. There were leather belts, straps and mirrors spread out across the walls. Mars thought that you could spend hours trying to look at everything in the room and still not see it all. They pushed open two double glass doors and walked into another room full of tables and chairs, and there was a long bare wooden counter with a line of worn stools running along the front of it. They walked up to the counter, and he helped Chi up on one of the stools and removed his pack. He heard someone stirring in the backroom from behind the counter.

“I’ll be there in a second.” A female voice bellowed from the next room.

“We can wait.” He answered, smiling down at Chi.

A tall, thin middle-aged woman with flaming bright red hair shot through the door in almost a blur, hurrying along the length of the counter. Her bright hazel eyes lit up, and she smiled broadly at her two guests. 

“Well, hello there, I’m Alice-what can I do for ya?” She asked.

“I think the child is hungry, and I was hoping we might do a little trading for a hot meal. and maybe a little information if you could spare the time.” Mars told her.

She put both hands on her hips and leaned over the counter, looking down at Chi.

“Ohhhh, but aren’t you precious!” She looked at Mars. “Alright, so what are you trying to trade?”

He pulled a long, thick, flat blue stone out of his pack and placed it on the counter. And when she saw it, her eyes lit up, making it near impossible for her to hide her excitement.

“Mister-Are you sure you want to trade a stone in that good of condition for food and information?”

“You run a kitchen, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“And I would imagine you have to feed a lot of people that come through here, so you need sharp knives to cook and cut with don’t you?” 

Again she nodded.

She explained to them that her family and many of the other families had lived in Longstown, and stayed there long before and after the world governments collapsed. And one thing that the people of Longstown were always good at, was good old-fashioned survival skills that included pulling together as a community. They grew their own livestock, their own vegetables and grain, maintained an armed security force that would keep the peace whenever outsiders would come in and try to test them. There were even a few working guns in town, though they rarely ever had occasion to use them. She had just cleaned three fresh chickens that morning, and she was in the process of frying them on the wood stove in the kitchen, she boiled water to prepare the fresh vegetables, carrots, potatoes and onions, the peppers weren’t ripened enough yet so she couldn’t harvest them. She brought two plates with silverware and two glasses of cold water, along with a basket of fried bread, and then set a small platter of the fried chicken on the counter in front of them. Chi looked up at Mars and then at the large spread of food and then at Alice, the wide eye child had never seen so much food in one place in her entire life. Mars however suggested to her that they might want to give thanks to all responsible for the feast. And both bowed their heads as he said a brief prayer. 

 Alice sat and watched in amazement at the child's ravenous appetite until Mars motioned her to the side to speak in private. They moved down the counter out of earshot of the child.

“Has there been any strangers through here before us? You know anyone that might have stood out, they may have been traveling with an oriental woman?” He slowly looked over at Chi.

“Oh dear God. Her momma?” Alice sunk down dejectedly on the stool.

Mars closed his eyes and nodded slowly.

There was a band of skinheads that were traveling on horseback, and they had a wagon with a cage on the back covered with a tarp, not more than two days previous to Mars and Chi’s arrival. Alice told him that the leader was asking about a place nearby for them to camp for a few days to rest and water their animals, and as they were pulling away-tied in the back of the wagon looking out through the tarp was a small, thin oriental woman. There were seven men on and around the wagon and six others that split off from the main group and left back the way they came-north, back down Stackmill road. The town constable told them that the best place would be at the old deserted Joplin settlement down by the Sturgess River. It was about four miles from Longstown down Stackmill road until there was a trail that veered off to the right and went into the deep woods.

Mars gave Alice a concerned look as he glanced back over at Chi.

“Well, I believe that Miss Chi and I have already met the six that went back the way they came, and they are no longer of concern to anyone.” He told Alice.

She drew in a deep breath and then leaned towards him and whispered.

“Dead?”

“Yes, Ma’am, as dead as those chickens you fried this afternoon.” 

They both silently watched Chi devouring the remains of the fried chicken, the mood grew sad and somber.

“Are you going after them?” She asked.

“That was my plan. Yes it was.” He answered.

She sat up straight, the saddened look on her face was quickly becoming one of anger.

“They kidnapped her momma, didn’t they?”

He nodded.

“Well, she’ll be fine here with me, but you’re going to be needing an animal to get you to the lake as quickly as possible, and I’m guessing a weapon or two to take with you. You best get something to eat while there’s still something left.” She smiled in Chi’s direction. “ I’m going to go get Constable Crawley now.”

 

Constable Alan Crawley wasn’t a particularly large man in stature, but he had these strikingly cold dark blue eyes that could cut right through a person. Broad shouldered but a bit soft around the middle, just a shade under maybe five foot ten with long shaggy blonde hair, and he wore a wide brimmed floppy hat and dusty old looking clothes that gave him an over all gruff appearance. He entered Alice’s dining room and motioned for Mars to join him at a table. He walked over and slid a chair out from under the table and sat down across from him. Crawley extended his hand and introduced himself. Mars did the same.

“Well, Mr. Michaels, I hear that you have a rather unique problem on your hands.” He said, glancing in Chi’s direction.

He didn’t answer.

“Well, you see - we too have a small problem, some people have reported break ins in their barns and sheds, things have been coming up missing for the past couple of nights. And well, I cannot help but wonder if our two problems may be related, if you know what I mean?” He said.

“What things?”

Constable Crawley fidgeted in his chair.

“Small things really, hand tools, fresh vegetables, small livestock, chickens mostly.” He answered.

Alice brought them two cups of swirling hot brown liquid. Mars looked down at it and then up at Alice. Who smiled pleasantly.

“We have a farm in the area that grows coffee bean plants.” She told him.

“Thank you.” He said

He returned his attention to the constable.

“And you think those skinheads may have snuck back into town and stole those items?” He asked.

Constable Crawley lifted the cup to his lips and stared into the brown liquid before his eyes slowly raised to meet Mars- who was now watching him rather curiously. He sat the cup back down on the table.

“The evidence would suggest that very thing, Now Mr. Michaels, we are in a tough spot here, because well- like it or not, I can come up with the extra bodies to go after these men, but we’re coming up just a little short in the courage department, these people aren’t fighters- they’re farmers. it would be just you and me going after them, well, they have seven men on that wagon and another six that were headed back north the way they came, but if they double back on us we could be out numbered thirteen of them to just the two of us. And well- quite frankly I don’t know if I like those odds." Crawley said.

Mars gave the situation careful study before he slowly shook his head no.

“As I told Alice earlier, the six that went north are no longer a threat to anyone, so it would be seven to two. Are those odds a bit more to your liking constable?” 

He smiled at Mars and pushed his chair away from the table and stood.

“I’ll saddle us up a couple of horses and see if I can get us a couple of hand guns. How soon can you be ready to leave?” He asked. Mars looked over at Chi and smiled.

“As soon as you are.” He answered. 

 

~Scratch.. A.B.T. Copyright © 2010~

Mars Michaels... Longstown... Part one: Stackmill Road.

 

~We are not defined by what we possess, but by the things that we do.~

September 21st, 2217.

You could smell the smoke some three miles away, it was the time of year when the nights were starting to get much colder, and there were still people that would burn whatever they could lay their hands to just to keep warm. So there was no telling what the smell was, even as he rounded the top of the hill just before twilight he could see the glow of fire pits- but the smell was still somewhat indistinguishable. The closer he got, the more he found it carried the aroma of charred flesh of some type. As he drew closer, he could see that there were six, six figures, dark, hulking figures, all in a small circle screaming, pawing and slapping at something on the ground. The smell began to burn his nostrils and he recognized it as burnt human flesh, and there in the middle of the circle was a small human figure cowering in a fetal position. He dropped his pack calmly and didn’t break stride as he knelt down to pick up the wooden club almost in passing. The first one saw him and made a grunting noise like an animal, and turned toward him in a threatening manner. He came at him like a wild dog and Mars struck him down at the knees with the club, and as he fell, in one fluid motion he landed it across the back of his neck. 

 

The others turned towards him, but he didn’t sway, he just kept coming, dividing them, picking them off one at at time, wielding the wooden club like a roman gladiator. Viciously attacking them as they had the person on the ground. When there was only one left, he turned and tried to run away but slipped and fell. Mars stood over him, staring down, a cold menacing stare it was, the kind that made you want to crawl inside a deep dark hole and plead for your life. He was shaking, holding his hands up trembling in fear then, and for a brief second Mars thought that he’d heard him whimpering like a frightened child. The light reflected off of him as his face was now in full view. He was bald, big, fat, ugly, he wore a black leather jacket with skulls plastered all over it. A real tougher, or so he thought. He lifted the club and pointed it in the direction of the two fires.

“Who were they?” He asked. 

The skinhead turned and looked at the fires.

“Just people.” He answered softly.

“And what exactly did those ‘People’ do to deserve what you did to them?”

He began shaking again, as his attention darted nervously back and forth between Mars and the burning bodies.

“They-had stuff with them. We thought they were carrying food. So we- took it.”

“And when you set them on fire. Were they still alive, or were they already dead?”

“They were Chinese. I think.” he shrugged. “What difference does it make?” 

Mars looked away. He could feel the rage beginning to build inside of him. He raised the club and swung it violently across his skull, killing him instantly.

He stared down at the twitching corpse.

“You got off easier than they did, you son-of-a-bitch.”

He turned and walked back to where he’d seen them all standing over whoever had been cowering helplessly inside their little circle.

It was very dark, but still, the moon afforded him enough light to realize where he was, shells of burnt out cars and trucks-some overturned, grown over with milk weeds, tall wild grass and snakes, various piles of useless garbage, junked out refrigerators and stoves. He retrieved his pack and returned to where the skinheads had trapped their last victim, he could see where they had crawled away. He knelt down and looked under the rusted out junk auto. And he could see them hiding, still fearful. He sat down slowly in the dirt and crossed his legs in front of him.

“You know, I killed myself a rabbit not more than two hours ago right up over that hill, cleared myself a sweet little spot by that brook over there, nice little camp site. Even collected wood for a proper campfire. Now I promise you, that if you come with me, I won’t let anyone else hurt you. And we can come back here at first light and bury those other people that those terrible men killed. C’mon out of there now, there’s probably snakes and what not under there. And you may be sitting in their bed.”

Slowly a small hand came out from beneath the car, and then another, and then he could see their face, they were but a child, perhaps little more than ten years old. Chinese, female. 

 

He felt his heart sink when he realized that more than likely the two burnt bodies were her parents. She was trembling, crying softly. He tried to smile to put her at ease, but it was as hard for him as for her. He held his hand out, and in a warm, soft southern drawl he spoke to her again.

“My name is Mars child, and I am your friend.”

Though she could walk, she was quite weary, and so he carried her to the campsite, and made her a bed out of his long black leather coat beside the campfire. No one stole his rabbit, so he cleaned it but decided to save it for when his young guest awoke the next morning. He rolled his pack up and lie it on the ground next to the fire, and watched over her, and slowly her whimpering subsided as she drifted off to sleep.

“Still think you don’t have a purpose, Mars?”

Although he couldn’t make out a face, he distinctly heard the voice from across the campfire. He stared up at the star lit sky. Trying not to acknowledge it.

“What is it like up there?”

“Up where Mars?” 

 

He slowly shook his head as he stared into the fire, his eyes never once seeking to see the source of the voice.

“Well, isn’t that where you are from?” He nodded up at the stars. “From up there?”

“I’ve never been to the stars. So no- I’m not from there.”

“You know. I lay here sometimes. Looking up at those beautiful stars, and I often wonder what it would be like to just sit up there, and look down on this whole mess that we’ve been left with down here. I sometimes wonder how it would feel, to look upon what's left of this world. Without-bearing the burden of concern. Or compassion. Of Conscience. Without passing judgment.” 

“You feel bad for what you were forced to do tonight.”

“ Nobody in their right mind wants to have to take another life. But then again, there are such people on this earth- or rather what's left of it, that simply need killing. I am however saddened by what that child has had to endure. And so, I suppose, this is the part where you tell me that she needs me.”

“No Mars. This is the part where I tell you that you need each other.” 

 

The following morning she awoke to the smell of freshly cooked rabbit licking at her nostrils, pushing aside the unpleasantness of the previous night's dream, her belly began to rumble with hunger pains. She sat up just in time to see him come walking back into camp, carrying three canteens of fresh water. He knelt down by the pack and removed a plate along with a clean fork and placed a piece of rabbit on it and handed it to her. Along with a small glass of water. She hesitated briefly and then took the rabbit and water. It was consumed within seconds. He began putting things in order back in the pack, she watched him curiously as she ate. He stopped to look at her.

“I do not believe that I caught your name, little one.” He said.

She didn’t answer.

“Well, you can tell me when ever you are ready. I suppose it will come in due time.” He smiled and walked over and sat down beside her on the ground.

 

There was a brief silence as he studied her to try to figure out her frame of mind, she wasn’t crying, she wasn’t smiling, she was just staring blank faced into the fire.

“You know- I don’t know what your customs are. And I certainly wouldn’t want to offend. But I woke up earlier and went over and dug two graves for those people that you were with. I buried them beneath that tree over there on the other side of the brook. I suppose I was trying to spare you the unpleasantness of seeing their remains. Would you like to see them before we have to leave?” He asked her.

She nodded yes.

“All right then.” 

He finished packing the backpack while she went to the brook to wash her face and hands. Once finished, he walked her over to the grave site and gave her a little space to say goodbye. She turned and looked up at him curiously.

“Yes little one. What is it?” He asked.

 

He walked up beside her and knelt down inspecting both graves, she looked away and then back at him and then returned her attention to the two graves.

“Which one is my aunt, and which one is my uncle?” She asked. 

“Well darlin.” he said, “I believe that the one on the left is female, so that would be your aunt I suppose.”

Now he gave her a puzzled look.

“They weren’t your parents, little one?” 

She shook her head no.

“My daddy’s dead. I don’t know where my mother is. Some men took her away about ten days ago. My aunt and uncle and me have been trying to find her. So I could give her thing back to her. She asked me to keep it for her until she came back.”

“What thing may I ask?”

 

She reached inside of her tatered coat and removed a small silk bag. She smiled and held it up for him to see.

“May I see what is inside?”

She nodded and handed him the small delicate bag, and when he opened it she could see a flicker of light in his eyes as he smiled broadly. Inside of the bag was a small bamboo flute.

“Why- That is absolutely beautiful. And you are going to find your momma to return this to her?” He asked.

She again nodded.

“My mother told me that it’s special, because it belonged to HER mother, and I should take good care of it for her.” She said.

“Well, I must say, that from the looks of things, you are doing a spectacular job.” 

He handed the small silk sack back to her and stood. 

“I realize that you don’t know me little one, but I promise you this, I know strength when I see it, and I know that you will keep your promise to your momma. And if you should need any help I’ll be right there with you. Is that alright with you?” He asked. 

He walked her up to the side of a hill and helped her pick some fresh flowers to place on the graves of her aunt and uncle before they decided to leave for the nearest town. On fresh legs- he was surprised at how well she kept up with him as they walked down Stackmill road.

“Now darlin, if you start to get tired you just tell me to stop and we can rest awhile, before we continue on our way. I have it on good authority that there is a small township just south of here called: Longstown, supposedly they’ve have been doing some rebuilding there. I suppose we should go there first.” He said.

As they walked along he felt something soft and warm wrap itself around his palm, and he looked down to see her small hand clutching at his. She gently tugged at him. He stopped and knelt down in front of her.

“Yes darlin what is it?” He smiled.

“Chi”

“What?”

"My name is Chi.”

“That is a very pretty name Miss Chi, is there anything else?”

She looked up at him.

“Now that those men killed my aunt and uncle, I was thinking if my mother isn’t at the next town, do you think you could help me until I find her?” She asked.

“Miss Chi. It would be my honor to assist you.” He smiled at her broadly.

Together they continued on the way talking and walking on the road to Longstown.” 

 

~Scratch.. A.B.T. Copyright © 2010~

 

Mars Michaels: The Beginning At The End.

 

There once was a time when the world wasn’t always so quiet, a busier time, when the hustle and bustle of life drowned out the great silence in an endless hum of chatter and rhythmic mechanical noise. Machines rode along great wide ribbons of asphalt carrying people to and from, back and forth. And the skies roared with the deafening sounds of jet engines, that carried commerce across the world from one continent to the next. But before we get too far ahead of ourselves here, let's take one giant step back and try to remember how we got there. Lots of hard work. Generation upon generation pulling the world up- literally, by the boot straps. Lots of doing things, building things. The hard way.

Too many lives spent bent over, laboring in the hot sun. gathering food in vegetable fields, hauling timbers to construct shelter from the elements. Laying bricks. Forging steel, reaching ever so higher towards the heavens. And then someone made the first machine. Then another, and then another still, and before long we had machines doing all the work. And eventually doing all the thinking as well. Well, life was good. But like every good story has a beginning, they have an ending as well. It wasn’t that no one was giving much thought to how it would all eventually come to an end, there was after all a fair amount of speculation in concerns to: “The End.” 

Some thought that in a sea of fire, the end would come. Sweeping across the landscape like a biblical flood washing the world away into the pits of hell. Others, still, had thought that the machinations of a civilization consumed by greed, lust and power would devour the world, and reduce itself to a nuclear wasteland, where nothing in all reality would have even the slimmest of hopes for long term survival. And then there were those who thought that a great golden ship would descend from the clouds and save only the faithful, forsaking all others, leaving each to their demons to swim in a sea of hopelessness. 

But the truth is a funny thing, no one really even understood fully how it worked, this mysterious thing called life. The end. Who would have thought that those two little words could fill the hearts and minds of all human life with such a sense of dread. The most brilliant minds in the world could not conceive of it, could not embrace the inevitable, the arrogance, resisted, refusing to believe that for once in their pitiful lives that they no longer held the illusion of control firmly within their grasp. For once nature would have its say and on August 12th, 2195 we would finally pay for that arrogance. The End... Over… Done… Like it or not… Here it comes. 

It’s funny, though it didn’t really come like anyone back in the day thought it would. When, in fact-in reality, it didn’t end at all. It was like one day God woke up and decided that we weren’t getting it anymore. Like humanity had lost its way somehow. We’d lost sight of what was really important and just in the world. We’d grown soft, spoiled… Lazy… And if you close your eyes and just hold your breath, just for a second, you can almost picture him rising up out of his chair, slowly walking across the room and with but a flick of his finger. God turned the whole world off… And overnight everything changed. The machines didn’t work anymore… Didn’t talk anymore… No more computers… No more Internet... Financial collapse… There was rioting… Plunder… The worldwide collapse of the police force.

Then there came lawlessness, the ability to protect and serve long since vanished, followed by the collapse of governments- one by one… Worldwide, like one gigantic landslide that started with but a single, tiny pebble… Then there was the sickness… Some called it the second coming of the great plague… Not enough medicine, not enough hope, no more machines to do the thinking for us, when many forgot how to simply think for themselves. People died… A lot of people… Millions, perhaps billions. But still, after it was all said and done, life endured and many that survived moved on. Here we are twenty-two years later and many are still moving. They say that sometimes when a person gets lost, and are no longer certain of where they are going or what their purpose is anymore, the best place, the smartest place to start looking for where you went wrong is at the very beginning. So here we are.

And then there were the stories of those who would survive, who would live and breathe another day, the stories though similar-not like his. None like him. The sickness took his mother from him when he was still quite young and not long after, heartbreak, despair and loneliness-his father. He had to fight every day to simply live to the next, many times until his young body was wracked with the pains of hunger and weariness. Without purpose, without meaning, one foot in front of the other, minute to minute, day by day, he would endure. Until one day it all became too much, and he decided to simply stop, he lay in the snow, in the woods along the side of a road that he couldn’t even remember the name of- he had almost found himself hoping for death-almost praying for it. 

Then he opened his eyes and he was warm, next to a fire, and he looked up and for the first time, he saw the first of many… The first was a woman… She sat across from him and stared through the fire. And with a softness and comfort in her voice-she spoke.

“You will not die here alone in this cold place, Marston Michaels. For it is ordained that you shall serve this world a greater purpose. You will seek out those lost, you will help them find their way, you will tell them Marston, that no matter the challenge, the hardship, no matter the pain, we will never leave them… Nor you. The righteous shall live on… The wicked shall fall. go now Marston… Lead them to deliverance.” 

~Scratch.. A.B.T. Copyright © 2010~