Chapter 4
February 30, 0350 ATG (After The Gate)
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-In many ancient cultures, the denizens often prided themselves on their moral standing with others, whatever that belief system is. Believe it or not, the opposite can be seen when morality becomes inconvenient to that city states’ leadership. The Greeks, for example, ransacked and murdered a sovereign city because of a coveted beauty. What does that say about us?
– Anthropologist May Adams – last article written. “Civilization Magazine”
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His elation at having made the artifact work like it had when he fired that lightning bolt was short lived, and that was because of the resulting yelp. Jonas was in no condition to defend himself. There was a lingering worry that all his cooked meet would go to the local wildlife if he just abandoned it, but what coice did Jonas have? He was still partially blinded. With a heavy sigh, Jonas carefully climbed into the bunker and closed the lid.
The bed was still where he had last found it, undisturbed. It had accumulated another layer of dust. Part of Jonas felt guilty about dirtying the bed even further by adding to its collection, but the moment Jonas fell upon the heavenly mattress, his worries faded as sleep overtook him.
Jonas woke up the next day somehow and unsurprisingly feeling completely refreshed and filthy all at the same time. It was then that he remembered the abandoned food by the hatch and what was likely waiting for him. Jonas had stashed a fair amount of it in his bag, but how much of it was taken by the wolves and other wildlife was unknown. There was also the fact his blindness was likely gone. This was evident by the lack of the lingering spot in his vision. That was a good thing. It meant he wouldn’t get taken by surprise the moment he cracked open the hatch. There was also the issue of the near depletion of his ammunition.
There was the option of his artifact, and now that he had a better understanding of how it worked, maybe he could use it with reliable results. At least, out in the wild where no one else was around. Picking it up, he examined it, careful not to blind himself again. This time the symbols weren’t as bright as before. On the other side, Jonas had noticed that some of the symbols had gone dark. He remembered firing the thing and feeling that brief flash of heat, and out of the 10 symbols that were once lit, only 8 remained. “5 shots, huh? Must be an indicator of how many times it can fired before it needs to be recharged.” Jonas mused.
Just in case Jonas needed the extra shot, he fed the artifact until it was fully charged. He then put on a coat and made his way up the ladder. Jonas wasn’t quick to open the hatch, because he couldn’t. The moment he tried, Jonas found it wasn’t impossible, only that there was something on top of the hatch. Jonas put his back into his task, and soon found his efforts rewarded Jonas also discovered why the hatch was difficult to open. It had snowed while he was asleep, but it wasn’t just the snow. Because, if it was, the hatch would have opened with much less effort. The reason the hatch had been so stubborn, was because of the dead wolf that was on top of it.
The wolf looked to have been severely burned. Jonas found it a little off, however. It wasn’t the wolf dying of its burns, no. It was the position the wolf was frozen in. It was curled up in a protective ball. Jonas was reminded of his dislike for killing these noble and beautiful creatures, but out here, it was survival of the fittest. That meant Jonas would be walking away the victor and his prize was life. Jonas turned to leave. There was nothing else for him to collect. No fresh meat to cook. The local wildlife had seen to that. Just as Jonas was walking away with his bag in tow, he heard a whimper and froze.
Jonas slowly turned around to find the sources of the whimpering. It sounded like a puppy. Jonas’ search led the archeologist to the burned and dead wolf. His heart sank. A squirming mass of fluff, half frozen fought its way free of its frozen mother. The wolf pup was helpless without its mother and was likely part of the wolf pack he’d killed. It was his fault the poor thing was going to die. “No Jonas, you can’t bring it with you. The pup is only going to slow you down.” But no matter what argument or logic his mind threw at him, Jonas just could help but take pity of the creature. Jonas carefully picked up the wolf pup and stuck the frightened creature into the coat to help warm it up. “You lucky little bastard. You’re lucky you’re so adorable.
The little beasty eventually wore itself out and fell asleep inside his coat. The whole time Jonas walked towards his next destination, he’d check on the ball of fluff every now and then. Its condition hadn’t led to the pup losing any legs or paws, which was good, but the puppy still felt a little cold. It was a trooper. “You are a tuff little bastard, aren’t you?” By this point, the puppy had gotten used to Jonas, and just gave him a “yeah and?” look. The archeologist couldn’t help but laugh, and slipped the puppy a few pieces of cooked meat. “I can’t just call you it, wolf, and puppy.” That’s when inspiration struck.
It came in the form of a memory of a former colleague. She too had a dog. Only, it wasn’t a wolf. It was a bear dog. At least, that’s what a book on dog breeds called it. In the memory she called it Shithead, because as a puppy it would chew up her boots, and she called it Shithead so often it started only responding to that moniker. Seeing as the wolf pup was out of the immediate danger, Jonas held the pup out in front of himself. It tried to lick his face. “Tugging at my heart strings, are you? You really are a little shit.” The pup now known as “Little Shit” shuddered a little and a small turd hit ground, followed by a stream hitting his leather and fur coat “Little Shit it is. I can already tell your gonna be trouble.” Little Shit just proudly barked. Jonas just set Shit down and continued on, but deep down, he liked the company.
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The rest of the journey had gone rather easy. Little Shit made a full recovery, and grew rather attached to Jonas. Although that was probably because to it, Jonas was a food dispenser. This had caused a minor hiccup in Jonas’ plans, but that wasn’t any thing that couldn’t be ameliorated with some planning and effort. Truthfully, the effort would be very minor, assuming no one was scoping out the original place Jonas was supposed to be dropped off at. Ammo may no longer be a concern, but discretion about his secret was.
Jonas felt a strong urge to fallow his original plan, and just bypass the drop off point, but one look at Little Shit told Jonas that wasn’t going to be a good idea. The wolf pup would not survive 2 Days without food. He might, but not the pup. “What do you think?” Jonas asked the pup. Little Shit just cocked its heads at Jonas with expectant eyes. “That’s what I thought. Drop off point it is.”
The sun was beginning to set once more and the two made camp. Jonas got the fire going, and got to work boiling some snow water and tearing into some jerky. He tossed some pieces to the wolf pup. Like Jonas, it tore into its meal and then whined. “Sorry Shit, that was the last of it.” The Rabbit he shot two nights ago had helped to elevate the food issue a little, but not by much. Even his own. “Don’t worry. We’ll eat good soon enough. Just be patient.” After boiling the water and getting Little Shit and himself squared away, he topped off his artifact and climbed into his sleeping bag. At least they were out of wolf country.
Jonas woke up the next morning to Little Shit licking its ass after laying a fresh one right next to him. The smell permeated his nostrils. Shit looked over and saw Jonas awake, and bounded over, licking his face. Jonas gagged, and started to wretch. “I should have left you to starve.” Jonas said, but let out a defeated sigh. As the archeologist proceeded to clean up the camp and packed things up, he started thinking about the drop point Jonas was supposed to hiding out at.
Once Jonas was all packed up, he pulled out his journal. This caught Little Shit’s attention, but once it figured out the book wasn’t food, it went about searching for what it could. If his drawn map of the region was accurate, and Jonas believed it was, the original drop off point was only half a day’s journey away. He pulled out the fancy pocket watch and checked the calendar. “Fuck!” Jonas cursed. I’m gonna be cutting it close.”
The problem was time. The plan to just skip the ruins would have allowed him to make it back with half a day to spare, where he could wait and take his time on the last stretch of the journey by taking a shorter rout. Now that Jonas was heading to the drop off point to resupply rations, he would have to hoof it. He just hoped Erick was being smart and had eyes on the place, and didn’t just blindly set his mansion on fire. Jonas let out a groan. “I never thought I’d let a stupid animal throw my ambitions into jeopardy.”
Jonas checked his revolvers. He only had 1 bullet left. If he got into any fights that required more than 1 bullet, he would have to kill everyone. But that was Jonas worrying about the future. There was no guarantee he’d even need to fight. The smugglers were taken care of. He was out of wolf country, and while banditry wasn’t uncommon, the ruins would be a little too risky. Besides, that little shit was worth it, and so what if he was late. The whole purpose of burning the mansion was just a coverup, anyway. So, what if Jonas’ arrival was a little late in the grand scheme. The end result is always going to be the same.
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Jonas approached with great caution. The approach was purposeful with each step deliberate. At a distance, the ruins seemed peaceful and uninhabited, but looks could be deceiving. There could still be unknown people or wildlife inside. After all, Erick claimed to have stocked the place with supplies, and Jonas had no doubt that would be sufficient enough to draw something or someone’s attention. So, he just waited and scouted the place out, but after several hours of waiting, nobody or nothing entered or exited the place.
Again, the likelihood of bandits taking residence there were extremely low, but it was still possible. Next, he needed to check for dangerous wildlife. This was the part that that Jonas was going to hate the most. He was going to have to use that little shit as bait. Jonas knew being away from the pup caused it destress, and it would whine. In theory, the pups destress would cause anything dangerous to come out and investigate for food. Then again, there was potentially a mountain of food in the ruin, so not likely.
Jonas quickly trashed that awful idea, glad he’d never use it and moved on to the next best thing. He put the pup into his bag and decided to go with a tried-and-true method. The archeologist took out a metal pan, and standing off to the side of the entrance, just started banging on it with the butt end of his revolver. Nothing responded and the only sounds that could be heard, was the blowing wind. He made his way inside.
Jonas still wasn’t at ease, however. He confirmed no people were using the place. Hell, Jonas even played the role of an invader challenging for territory with no defiance or resistance, but even still, he was on edge. Something just didn’t feel right. As Jonas went deeper, he smelled something coppery. It was blood, and there was a lot of it. The crumbling hallway Jonas was in was slick with the stuff. Of course, Jonas couldn’t see the blood, but there were plenty of clues to suggest it was, and then there was the pungent smell of death that was getting thicker.
Jonas began to dry heave. It wasn’t until he reached his destination that Jonas was able to see the real atrocity. In the room at the far end hung a lit oil lantern. It burned bright enough to capture the scene before him. They were dressed like the smugglers he had killed. Then again, Jonas did think it odd that there was fewer escorting the wagon than initially scene. Jonas stepped over the bodies and made his way to the opposite end of the wall, where he found a note pinned to the wall. It read, “I’m off to notify our mutual friend.” Jonas looked back down at the bodies and gulped. Just how much did his follower know? Did he or she know his secret?
Jonas took a calming breath and instantly regretted it. “No, Theres no way they would know. I killed everyone around the wagon, unless they started tailing me. But I would’ve noticed. It was flat-open prairie for miles.” Jonas thought to himself, as he continued the search for the much-needed supplies, which the archeologist had found. The stock piles had been mostly consumed, but thankfully, there was enough for him and Shit. Shoving his irrational but valid worries into a tight little mental box, Jonas got to work collecting the supplies.
Erick was pacing in his office, looking disgruntled. He’d already been through several meetings throughout the day, and all of them had an overarching theme, disgruntled pricks who’d enveloped themselves with smug self-importants. It started as normal, but as the multiple meetings continued, his patients waning. Erick stopped by his chair and sat down. He had one more meeting to go. This one was objectively the most important.
The councilman checked the clock on the wall, but right as he was going to comment about his guest’s tardiness, Erick heard a polite knock come from the door. “Come in.” Erick said, as his secretary Usured a rough and dirty looking man into Erick’s office. His pants and shirt were covered in dried blood. The blood was very… pronounced. Something that else that stood out, were the bags under his eyes. “Gees! What hell happened to you. You look like hell.” The other man took a seat without asking and pulled out a self-rolled cigarette. He lit it. With the newest butane lighter and took a deep drag.
“Erick. Relax.” Erick took a calming breath and excepted a journal from the man’s outstretched hand. The councilman flipped through it. “This is good. This is very good.“ Erick said, giving the journal’s pages a second cursory glance. Once he concluded that the report was satisfactory, Erick held out a key with a barely contained smile. “You’ll find your pay in the usual spot.” All the man did was grunt. Erick felt the key vacate his hand. When there was no sound of the door opening and closing was heard, the councilman looked up to see what the man wanted. “Is there some-” The councilman started to say, but when he looked up, Erick saw the man was gone. “I hate it when he does that.” He put the report down and made his way to his secretary. “Did you see a man leave my office?” He asked, puzzled. “Yes. Sir?” “Sorry, Janis. I want to make sure. It was the same guy you let in, right?” His secretary just looked at him like he had just grew a second head. “Sir, if you’re not feeling good, I can have the doctor make a house call.”
Erick shook his head. “I’m Fine. Don’t worry about it.” Janis gave him a final questioning look, and went back to her current task. Shrugging his shoulders, he made his way back into his office. At this point, what did Erick care if the guy was stealthy. If anything, that was a boon and made him more valuable. It would definitely explain how he was able to get the details he had in his report. Erick opened the journal back up and started reading in earnest.
Erick clenched his fist in frustration. Those dam smugglers really did take things way too far. According to the report, they were consuming all the supplies he'd placed in the ruins of that old building just in case Jonas escaped, which was just vindictive to Erick, and thorough for ending Jonas. Unfortunately for them, Jonas had proved to be very resourceful. The report lacked any details of his escape or anything of his time with the smugglers, but that was ok, because the main takeaway, was Jonas’ survival. Erick did find a particular part to be very amusing, and that was the fact Jonas showed up to the drop off point with a wolf pup. “Jonas, you’re getting soft on me.”
It brought a smile to Erick’s face. He’d often suggested Jonas get a dog, and each time he brought it up, Jonas would just brush it off and say, “The dog would just slow me down.” Erick would admit the validity of the statement and move on, but having a puppy now would be detrimental towards their plans. A grown wolf would have been exponentially helpful. Erick acknowledged the distraction for what it was, and let his mind wander to the slaughter at the drop off point.
According to the report, it was a wild animal attack, specifically a pack of wolves. Erick knew better than that. His hire had helped out. He knew, because for starters, the ruin was outside of wolf country. The area was a buffer between the Town-like city and the wilderness. Then there was the fact that the man stunk of human blood and death from the time he walked into the office. It was clearly an obvious lie, but that was fine. The help was welcomed, and it allowed Jonas much needed supplies, and all that ultimately meant one thing. Jonas was going to return on time, if barely.
Erick wasn’t idle during Jonas’ wildlife adventure. He had been making preparations of his own. He just wished it didn’t have to come at his own expense, but it was what it was. Erick was also sure that Jonas would love seeing his misery at losing everything. The thing was, he needed to do it. As soon as Jonas unveiled his proposal to the counsel for an expedition to find the library of congress, they would use the opportunity to investigate Erick to eliminate him as a political rival. Having Jonas return from his trip would help his image, but that kind of knowledge would cause the others to lust for and covet the kind of power that opportunity could offer. However, by setting his mansion on fire, Erick would kill 2 birds with one stone. He’d eliminate the evidence of his wrong doing and cast the spotlight on the others. After all, while the timing would be suspect, it would buy time as the act itself would cause the others to grow suspicious and mistrustful of one another.
Erick got up and left his office. He bid his secretary a good evening and went home. The plan was quite simple. He would reignite the wood stove and over fire it. It was way overdue for a chimney sweep. The creosote buildup should be bad enough to where it would ignite. He would just wait for his maid to leave, but if he did that, then that might ruin things. No, Erick needed the house fire to happen while she was there. He needed to be able to point an indisputable figure at someone. Maybe he’d get her a little drunk before she started dinner. He sighed. “The things I do for you, Jonas.” But a small part of Erick knew that was a lie. He was doing this for himself and Erick knew it.
He stopped off at the winery, deciding on getting Ms. Watkins a little drunk. Erick felt the fires of ambition burning deep within himself. The knowledge that Jonas survived only served to fuel it to burn brighter. He was in high spirits for someone who was about to lose everything, but what did Erick care. If everything went right, then he would not only get everything back, but he’d get far more in political power.
As Erick rounded the corner, he was met with a sobering sight. It could be described as “haunting” or “horrible” depending on the person, but to Erick this was just a means to an end, a reminder of how cruel such a blessing can be. He could always build a new home. In the end, he didn’t need to sabotage his maid- “Ms. Watkins” He shouted, dropping everything and running into the inferno that was his burning mansion.
