Knights of the Apocalypse (A Duck & Cover Adventure Post-Apocalyptic Series Book 2) (6 page)

“Cool,” Jerry said.

The knights drew their swords as best they
could in the confines of the car.

“Are they going to stab the cliff?” Erica
asked.

The guard shook his head and gestured for
silence as the train entered the perilous stretch of track. A red cliff rose up
on both sides. Had his hands been free, Jerry could easily reach out and touch
the
stone walls
as the train barreled on.

The wall on the right fell away and they were
rolling above the trees of the San Juan forest. Jerry stood as far as the
bindings would allow and looked over the edge. He could see the Animas River
flowing far beneath them. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

The guard shushed him and put his hand on the
grip of his sword.

The rocks appeared again and they were back
in a canyon of pink stone. Jerry looked back at the guard. “Nice place for an
ambush.”

The canyon wall disappeared once more as the
train made its way along the shelf. The treetops were far beneath them. The
evergreens covered the canyon floor in a blanket of green and white.
 

There was yelling from the front of the
train. Not panicked but practiced. Jerry couldn’t make out the words but
imagined they were to the effect of “all clear.” But it wasn’t until they had
cleared the pass that the knights relaxed and turned back around.

Jerry caught Tommy’s gaze and said, “I
imagine a train full of food is a mighty tempting target for hungry people.”

Tommy spit on the ground at Jerry’s feet and
turned his back.

The knights spent the next five minutes
putting their swords away.

The conversation never returned.
The four-hour ride was made in silence and, to their word
,
it only got colder
.

SIX

The walls of the castle rose roughly thirty
feet into the air. More precisely, they rose the height of the three shipping
containers the kingdom had stacked in line to surround their castle. The wall’s
size and steel construction would be enough to make any potential invader think
twice, but it was the mural that had caused Erica to speak.

Admittedly, a wall of rusting, faded shipping
containers could be
a blight
on any community, so she
didn’t fault them for painting their exterior. It was that they painted the
castle walls with trolls and ogres that gave her pause. And the big-breasted
Valkyries that rode on the backs of winged white tigers to vanquish the
creatures made her laugh.
 

“It’s not that bad,” Jerry said.

“It belongs on a van,” she said.

“Maybe they didn’t have a van.”

“It’s offensive to women.”

“How do you figure that?” Jerry asked. “The
women with the metal bras and big boobs are obviously the heroes here. See?
That lovely lady with the fire coated nipple shield has defeated the dragon and
tied him up with her whip.”

“And placed a ball gag in his mouth.”

Jerry looked back at the dragon bondage
scene. “Oh, I didn’t see that. But, if you think about it, it makes total
sense. She wouldn’t want the dragon breathing fire. She’s wearing practically
no fire protection.”

“She’s wearing practically nothing,” Erica
said.
 

“She’s got a very nice helmet on.”

“And the cat-o’-nine-tails?”

“I’d have to check my history, but I’m pretty
sure that’s one of the best ways to keep a dragon in line.”

The couple chuckled as a particularly large
metal cupped bustier split in two to allow the train access to the city. The
train rolled though the breasted gate.

“I think we just got to second base with the
Silver Kingdom,” Jerry said.

Erica laughed out loud and drew the guard’s
attention.

“Laugh all you want. They’ll be closing those
as soon as we’re through. Nothing gets in or out but the train. You aren’t
going anywhere.”

Jerry looked offended. “Now that the kingdom
has taken us unto its bosom, why would we want to leave?”

“Ha. Ha,” the guard didn’t laugh. “Get a good
look at the sky. You probably won’t be seeing much of it where you’re going.”

Jerry looked up not to the sky but the tops
of the walls. Knights patrolled the edge. The same industrial-sized crossbows
they saw at the gates were mounted on the wall here as well, but there were
many more of them and they were even closer together.

The train rolled past the station at the edge
of town and continued deep into Silverton on extended tracks that once took the
tourists closer to the souvenir district. It didn’t stop until it reached the
center of town.

Jerry and Erica were untied from the bench
and led from the train as Tommy continued to goad them with threats of
imprisonment. “Ewe’ll be goin’ to the mine
fo
’
certain, tough guy. But, don’t worry, Eye’m shor yer girl will get to stay up
’ere on the surface with us.” He shoved them into the street.

The citizens of the town weren’t interested
in the train. The streets weren’t crowded, but they were full. Erica would even
describe it as bustling. Men and women moved about at a leisurely pace. Many
smiled and spoke with others as they crossed paths. If they hadn’t been dressed
in period costumes, it would have seemed like a normal day in a normal town.
The clothes looked beautiful and in good condition but were odd nonetheless.

Erica leaned over to Jerry and whispered.
“Look at how they’re dressed. It’s so odd.”

“I know,” he said. “I was expecting more
metal braziers.”

“Rebecca would have loved this,” Erica said
with no small amount of sadness.

Jerry wanted to put his arm around her. He
wanted to hold her tight. Losing her sister had been worse for Erica than
losing the entire world. He leaned in close to her since the bindings prevented
an embrace.
 

A young boy yelled as he ran along the length
of the train. “Sir Thomas?”

“Ere boy!” the knight yelled back.

The young teen panted as he spoke. “Sir
Thomas, the king has ordered that the prisoner be brought before him at once.”

Tommy smiled at Jerry. “Well. Looks like
justice is moving extra fast today. Ewe’ll be in the myne in no time at all.”
He signaled two of the guards. “Bring the prisoners.”

“No,” the boy spoke again. “Just the dude.
That’s what the king said.”

“Isn’t that interesting?” The knight cocked
his head and shoved Jerry forward. “Take this one to the king. Leave the girl
with me.” Tommy leaned in and whispered, “What do you think of that?”

Jerry whispered back. “I already warned you.
You’ll lose every hand that touches her.”

“Yeah, but your big bad Hannibal isn’t around
now.”

Jerry smiled and shook his head. “You still
don’t get it, do you? It’s not me or the dog you need to be afraid of.” A
knifepoint in his stomach caused Jerry to step back.

Tommy waved good-bye with the dagger and the
guards led Jerry away.

They escorted him down Twelfth Street and
Jerry tried to take everything in and file it away. The buildings, the guards,
the
people—he tried to remember all of it, but there
was simply too much purple. His eye was drawn to the ram’s skull crest on the
field of purple and gold. The icon hung from every post and structure. It was
stitched onto every armed man in the town. “I’m guessing the king’s mother was
a seamstress?”

One of the knights grunted, “His sister.”

“Oh,” Jerry said. “Why the ram skull?”

The other knight shrugged. “Because it looks
badass.”

Jerry nodded. “I can’t argue with that.”

There were many arguments to be made with
that. But Jerry was too relieved to bother making them. He half expected a
ram’s skull to be the king. Like the Lord of the Flies, perhaps the people of
the kingdom had been driven mad by the isolation. Or maybe it was the altitude.
He had seen stranger things. One town in the Midwest followed the laws set down
by a prized chicken. Another place farther south had elected a dog as mayor.
One back east prayed and followed the laws of an old Volkswagen.
They were delivered for the Volkswagen by a man named Hank
.
Or Hank was their leader and lived in the Volkswagen. He wasn’t certain.

These could have all been attempts to dodge
responsibility. If the crops failed or people died, it was much easier to pin
the misfortune on a goat or German engineering than it was for a person to
shoulder the blame. But it didn’t matter why these totems were adopted; the
people that served beneath were always absolutely crazy.

The guards turned him down Elias Street and
the purple got worse. It hung from buildings as far as he could see and fought
with the white of the snow to be the town’s dominant color.

To say an apocalypse had occurred, the town’s
buildings were well maintained and in relatively good shape. They appeared
freshly painted and even the store windows were maintained with artistic
displays. Each was draped in purple and gold, of course.

Despite the color scheme, the citizens of the
town appeared happy, healthy and better groomed than most of the places he had
visited. No one rushed. They strolled in pairs or small groups, smiling,
laughing and only looking over their shoulders when a friend called out.
Children played and their mothers watched them with carefree smiles.

“It seems … nice,” Jerry said, trying to
spark conversation with the guards.

“Yeah, it’s a friggin’ fairy tale. Keep
moving.”

Any attempt at conversation from that point
on was answered with the broad side of a sword slapped across his calves, so
Jerry decided to finish the walk in silence.

The knights directed him to the town hall. A
pair of guards at the entrance stood at their approach.

The guard on his right jerked a thumb in
Jerry’s direction. “He’s waiting for this one.”

The doormen nodded and pulled the double
doors open. “He said to go on in.”

The other guard at the door examined Jerry.
“Who the hell is this guy?”

The escort pushed him through the door. “Who
cares? If the king is in such a hurry to see him, it means the king is in a
hurry not to see him.”

It was warm inside. The train ride had been
so frigid he had forgotten he was cold. He enjoyed the warmth so much that he
hesitated when he was called down the hallway. One of the guards threw a
shoulder into him and drove him down the hallway and into the great hall.

Jerry laughed when he saw the throne and he
received a slap across the back of his head for his sense of humor.

“Enough.” The voice came from atop the mass
of twisted metal. The king sat in obvious discomfort but his voice still filled
the great hall. “Remove his shackles and leave us.”

The guards hesitated to comply.

“But, sire, he’s dangerous,” one said.
 

“He and his woman beat six men in the
market,” the other added.

“Nine,” Jerry said, and felt the sword point
in his back. “Well, it was.”

The king waved a tired hand. “I know what
this man is capable of and I appreciate your concern, but I wish him uncuffed
and I wish to speak to him alone.”

The guards dropped their argument and removed
the bindings. They backed away, but did not leave the room.

Jerry couldn’t tell where the man had been
standing, but a small figure in a robe that was much too large emerged from the
shadows and whispered to the guards, “Your king told you to leave. Why are you
still here?”

The guards jumped at the sound of the man’s
voice and did not question the king again. They left the courtroom and pulled
the doors shut behind them.

Jerry looked at the man on the throne. He sat
reclined, his arms outstretched. He wore a harsh gaze and a purple robe with
sleeves that draped the top of the throne. He said nothing. The two men
measured each other with stares for several seconds.

Jerry broke the silence. “That looks
uncomfortable.”

The king sat forward, tilting his head to
clear the ceiling along the way. He leaned forward with his hands on the
throne’s arms as if he were about to leap. “You have no idea.” Elias slithered
out of his seat and made his way down the stairs. “I asked for something grand
and symbolic.” He reached the foot of the throne and turned to look at it. “I
think they did what I asked out of spite.”

“Could be worse, I guess. I know a lot of
people that don’t have any thrones.”

The man in the cloak scolded him. “You should
not speak to the king that way.”

“Take it easy, Gargamel. The king and I are
talking.”

Gargamel looked to the king.

“It’s all right, Jeffery. Please leave us.”

“But, sire …”

The king waved his hand and the man in the
robe bowed before disappearing out the double doors. The king placed his face
in his hands and rubbed away a headache.

“Heavy is the head, huh?”

The king pointed to the throne. “Red is the
ass. I doubt you got to see much of our kingdom on the way in.”

“I saw enough to jump to a few conclusions.
And, despite the tapestry of you getting your smite on, you don’t seem crazy.”

“That’s kind of you to say.” Elias leaned
back and rubbed his lower back. “Sometimes I wonder.”

“I’ve met my share of kings. Most are nut
jobs ruling over a kingdom of melons, or peasantry of sheep. This one guy ruled
over a kingdom full of dolls he found in burned out buildings. He had them all
lined up in front of him in his throne room.”

Elias cringed.

“Yep,” Jerry said. “It was creepy.”

“My people are happy here. They’re safe and
they’re fed.” Elias held out his arms to let the robe flow. “If this pageantry
gives them that comfort, then I’m happy to play my role.”

“Probably doesn’t hurt having all the
servants at your beck and call.”

Elias chuckled. “I’m not going to lie. It’s
good to be the king.”

“But you’ve got a problem?”

The king nodded. “I do.”

“Something or someone is threatening to undo
all of this and take it all away from you. To bring
your
kingdom crumbling down around you. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here with you. I’d
be in the mines with the rest of the dissidents.”

Elias nodded again. “You would.”

“Now that doesn’t sound like the act of a
benevolent ruler.”

The king turned up his palms. “What choice do
I have? This town didn’t have a dungeon.”