First War

David Allen

Part Three of Three

Dante

The stars seemed to shine brighter than even the sun. Their light crept in through the cracks in the walls. Illuminating the hut in a rather gloomy manner. Over the past several years, young Dante had taken notice of the ever-decreasing daylight. He had been born just after the first War broke out, and so he had no memories of the way things used to be. The withered sun and the lifeless wastelands were all he'd ever known. In all his years, Dante had experienced only one encounter with any sort of plant life. He was a toddler at the time, wandering through some rubble with his friends. He remembered turning over a slab of cement expecting to see several cockroaches scatter for cover. Instead, the sight of a tiny green plant greeted him. He and his friends marveled over the discovery for hours. The next morning, however, the plant was withered and dead.

When Dante was fifteen, his parents were slaughtered by a passing Army regiment. The details were hazy, but he remembered escaping into the wasteland without a scratch. Most of his young friends were cut to pieces by Army laser fire within the first several minutes of the attack. He could not forget the gruesome sights that he was forced to bare as he fled. He was alone and helpless in the wasteland.

Yet somehow, Dante survived the remainder of his teen years. He went from settlement to settlement, eating what food could be spared and doing whatever work he could to earn a place to sleep. Life was hard, but there was something within him that would not quit. Giving up never crossed his mind.

Dante sat silently in his hut, staring at a pair of mutated insects as they scurried across the far wall. He had acquired his place in the hut by chance. The village in which it rested was a mere collection of broken down homes in which wanderers like himself took refuge. Dante had come across his hut one night only minutes after it's previous occupants had set off for Eden. He was lucky, but far from safe.

There were dozens of men sleeping out in the bitter cold that wouldn't hesitate to rip Dante to pieces for the hut. Once they discovered that he was alone and weak, there would be trouble.

Dante stood to his feet and went to the door. He would have to find an ally to share the hut with him. Someone large and frightening, someone he could trust. It would be difficult to find such a man, but Dante had no choice. He slipped silently out into the night.

There were several withered old men sleeping in random cement piles. Most of them were so old that they wouldn't pose any threat. They were probably survivors from before the First War. Though Dante would enjoy hearing them tell their stories, they would be useless as allies.

He began walking towards the outskirts of the village. He carefully inspected each man that he passed. Yet none of them would do. They were either too old or too vicious looking. The vicious men wouldn't think twice about killing him in order to have the hut to themselves.

Dante was about to give up for the night when his eyes fell across an intriguing sight. Lying several feet away, in what appeared to be an ancient crater not more than four feet deep, was a massive man with metallic legs. Dante froze and gave the man a closer look.

His hopes initially sank, for the man was very old. His scalp was void of all hair and his skin was wrinkled and pock marked. Yet the metallic legs were intriguing, and Dante could not help but look even closer.

Not only did the man have a pair of mechanical legs, but his right arm was completely gone. Instead of a fleshy stub, there was a cluster of disconnected wires and circuits hanging from his shoulder. Dante shivered suddenly at the sight of an Army insignia on one of the man's metallic legs.

All his life, Dante had despised the Army and everything that it represented. The Army had murdered his family and his friends without a hint of remorse. As far as Dante was concerned, the Army had allied with the aliens to help destroy mankind. He wondered what they had gained from the bargain. Perhaps a brand new planet to settle, or maybe new fleet technology. Who could tell. The only real fact was that the Army was the enemy. More so than the aliens, for the Army was the only thing that he had ever seen cause mankind any true harm.

Over the past few years, the Army had begun to pull out of earth. Nearly every Army base on the planet was abandoned and empty. It meant one of two things. Either the sun was about to die completely, killing off every scrap of life on the planet. Or the aliens were about to finish the job themselves. One way or another, the end was terribly close.

The mysterious man laying before him opened his eyes. Dante reacted by taking a step back and preparing to run. His fascination for the man had not vanished, but the sight of Army markings put fear in his gut.

"Don't worry." The man said, "I'm harmless."

Dante was not calmed by what the man said. It was the tone of his voice that relaxed him. There was something in the way he spoke that was terribly sad.

The man sat up, "I'm Jack."

Dante took a step closer, "My name's Dante."

Jack sighed and looked off into the distance. Again, Dante was struck with a feeling of sadness. Though he did not fully realize it, his interest in Jack was heightening. Although Jack was 'harmless', he appeared to be a very dangerous individual. The mechanical legs and the thick, though wrinkled, body gave him the look of a seasoned warrior. A man who had seen too much. A man who had lost too much.

"What's your story?" Dante probed.

Jack continued to stare off into the distance. "I'm sure you have something better to do than pester old men."

"Actually," Dante said. "I was wondering if you needed a place to stay…" It was a gamble, admitting that he had a hut all to himself. Jack could easily turn on him and the game would be over.

"A good Samaritan…" Jack said slowly. "Why would you want to help me?"

Dante shrugged.

"Come on." Jack locked eyes with him. "What's in it for you?"

Again Dante shrugged.

Jack shook his head and climbed awkwardly to his feet. "I'll warn you now, I'm not good company. And I'm not useful."

"That's all right." Dante said kindly. "I don't need a good conversation and I don't need help with anything. I just don't want another veteran to die alone in the desert."

Jack snorted and mumbled something under his breath.

"Well, come along…" Dante said.

They walked back to the hut in silence. Dante noticed that Jack's mechanical legs did not move smoothly and swiftly as he had thought. Instead, Jack awkwardly took each step by leaning forward on a cane and swinging one leg forward. When that leg hit the ground, he would inch the cane forward and swing his second leg in front of him. He was surprised how fluidly Jack could move under such circumstances. For the legs were clearly not operating.

Jack wasn't being facetious when he said that he was not useful. If anything, Jack was a one armed cripple. Barely capable of walking, let alone doing any sort of work. Yet he still appeared rugged and battle hardened, useless or not, such an ally would keep Dante alive and in his hut. He'd just have to make sure that nobody dangerous saw Jack hobbling around during the day.

Which wouldn't be too hard. As they walked, Dante noticed that Jack was not only missing flesh and blood legs, but various other body parts had been removed. All that was left in their place was steel plating. There would be no need for Jack to leave the hut. For all Dante knew, the man didn't even need to eat. If he did, where would the food go after digestion? Jack was clearly lacking the key organs for the waste disposal process.

The more he watched Jack, the more questions he had. Yet even as they both sat down inside the hut, Dante could not bring any words to his lips. He finally drifted off to sleep, all too aware that Jack was wide awake. Did the man even sleep?

****

Morning came all too quickly. Dante opened his eyes and saw that Jack hadn't moved an inch since he last saw him. It was slightly unnerving to see the big man seated in the exact same position with the very same blank expression on his face and his eyes still wide open.

Jack watched silently as Dante climbed to his feet and staggered outside to spill his bladder. Once again the questions returned to Dante's mind. He gathered up his courage and slipped back inside the hut

"Do you sleep?" He asked. It was a silly question to start with, but it was the foremost question in his mind.

"No." Jack replied tonelessly.

Dante sat down and scratched his tangled hair. "Why not?"

At first he thought that Jack was going to ignore him, but finally, the old man spoke, "The part of my brain that required sleep was modified… Or removed. I'm not sure which."

It was more than one sentence, Dante was making progress. "Did the Army do this to you?"

Jack locked eyes with him. "I told you that I'm bad company. I meant it."

"Meaning what?" Dante retorted. "You don't want to talk?"

"That's right." Jack replied.

"Well then," Dante smiled, "You don't have to talk. But don't expect me to remain silent." And then he began rambling about everything and nothing. Before too long, Dante had spouted off his entire life story. It went on for days, Dante talked and talked, while Jack said nothing. Finally he began to talk about his family and friends and how the Army had slaughtered them. From there he went into great detail describing his views on the Army, how he thought that they had made a pact with the aliens and were preparing to wipe out earth. Just as he was about to comment on the empty Army bases, Jack spoke up.

"You're half right." he said.

"About the Army?" Dante asked.

"Yes, half right." he glanced down at the Army insignia on his legs.

"You're one of them, aren't you?" Dante accused.

"I was…"

"How many innocent people did they make you kill?" Dante asked. He had not meant the question to sound so accusing. But the look in Jack's eyes told him that he had said too much.

"I killed my only friend…" He said in a quiet voice. "I was on both sides of the War."

Dante was confused.

"The Army is not what you think." Jack said. "They were destroyed on the first day of the War. Not a single ship survived. The Army that killed your family… They are the aliens… We call them Dupes. Only a few regiments of the true Army survived. They've been fighting the Dupes since the first base was established."

Dante's mind whirled. The aliens had won on day one, sending human clones to finish off the surviving planet dwellers. It all made perfect sense. "Who did you fight for?"

"I told you already," Jack said. "I fought for both sides. The Dupes made me into a mech., the Army rescued and reprogrammed me."

"But your legs… They don't work…" Dante indicated to the mechanical legs.

"After I… left the Army… The circuitry was blown, they hollowed out my legs and removed anything that could be hot-wired." Jack explained.

"You let them do that to you?" Dante replied.

"Of course I did." Jack said calmly. "I'd rather be a cripple than a murderer."

"Murderer?"

Jack said nothing.

After a few minutes of silence Dante asked, "How much of you is mechanical?"

"Other than what you can see… not much. Most of my brain. Some veins… My heart and a few other important organs."

"Do you eat?" Dante asked.

"Sure." Jack said. "The food is broken up and distributed throughout my body. There's no waste left in the end."

"Wow." Dante mused. "Of course there are downsides to that…"

Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Well…" Dante said uneasily, "Women, for one… You can't…"

"I am fully aware of what I cannot do." Jack cut in.

Once again, silence filled the hut. Dante was content with what he had learned for the time being. Of course, Jack hadn't shared any personal details with him. Dante had no clue what he meant when he spoke of being a murderer… He began to crave to story behind Jack's words. Yet there was nothing he could think to say. And so, silence was their companion for the remainder of the day.

The Garden

The village called Eden was well known throughout the wastelands. In some places is was no more than a mere myth. A tale that brought hope to an otherwise hopeless race of beings. Yet Dante had been hearing about it all his life, and he knew that there was truth to the stories. There really was a village teeming with life and shaded by trees and green vines, it truly had clean water and was surrounded by vast fields of corn and wheat. But that was all he dared to believe.

Though the tales of Eden intrigued him, Dante had never thought of going there. It was just another paradise that he would never see with his own eyes. A place that would reside in his dreams forever. Or so he thought.

Jack was sitting in his usual spot when the subject came up. "I'd like to go to Eden." He said.

Dante was busy scraping the muck out of his water, "Eden? I hear they've got clean water…"

Jack nodded. "I'm not going to be around much longer… I'd like to finish out my days in a place like Eden."

Dante set his cup down. "You're not that old, Jack… Are you?"

"Close enough." He replied. "The earth's not going to last much longer anyways."

It was true. They had talked about it a lot over the past few days. The Army had completely vanished from the face of the earth. It meant that the clock was ticking, time was running out. "I hear Eden has a starship." Dante said.

"I've heard that too." Jack replied slowly.

The story was simple, the villagers had overcome an Army base and made off with equipment and a single starship. Some said that it was a shuttle, a transport of some kind. While others adamantly claimed that it was a fighter. Either way, it was a ticket off earth. Although Dante did not quite believe the rumors.

"I hear the women there are all beautiful…" Dante grinned. "And naked."

Jack laughed softly. He rarely showed anything other than sadness, and seeing him laugh made Dante feel a little happier than usual. "Does that mean you'd like to come along?" Jack asked, his voice flat again.

Dante creased his brow and thought hard. "I don't see why not."

* * *

There was nothing to pack and no one to say goodbye to. It was simply a matter of walking out the door. When the time came for them to depart, they did it without a second thought. One moment they were safe inside their hut, the next they were wandering out across the wasteland. For Dante, it was just another move. His entire life had been spent moving from one inhospitable place to another, never settling down for more than a few weeks.

Dante watched Jack closely as they set off. The old man seemed to be hiding his emotions, as always, yet there was a hint of life in his eyes. If Dante knew any better, he would say that Jack was eager to see Eden.

Such speculation couldn't be too far off the mark, for it was Jack who had suggested the journey. It almost brought a hint of sadness to Dante's heart, seeing Jack undertake a journey that was sure to be his last. The old man was simply seeking a place where he could curl up and die. Dante could not imagine doing such a thing. For him there would be no giving up, not under any circumstances.

"Do you think humanity is close to extinction?" Dante asked suddenly.

"Closer than you think." Jack replied.

"Well," Dante growled. "I'm not going to die. Not any time soon. One way or another, I'm going to live a long life."

Jack shook his head, "I suppose we all have our dreams."

"It's not a dream." Dante shot back. He would not die with the rest of the planet. Deep in his mind, he was already plotting ways to escape the approaching end. If Eden truly did have a starship of it's own, he would leave earth in it. With or without their cooperation.

They walked in silence for several more hours. Just as the sun began to set, Jack came to a dead stop and began scanning the horizon nervously. Dante remained silent, watching as the old man reached down to his left ankle. His fingers brushed against the metallic surface. There was a hissing sound as a panel slid open under his hand. When he stood upright again, there was a pistol in his left hand.

Dante took a deep breath, "What is it?"

"A gang…" Jack said calmly. "Heading this way." His finger rested uneasily on the trigger of his weapon.

Gangs weren't uncommon in the wasteland. Often consisting of several dozen battle hardened savages, gangs were something to be avoided. Anyone caught in there path would either be killed or robbed, if not both.

Dante glanced at the pistol, "Do you have another one of those?"

Jack shook his head. "I've got a knife…" He reached down and slid a deadly looking blade from the casing in his other leg. "I'm not as fast as I used to be," Jack explained. "But I can still hit anything with a gun." He tossed the knife to Dante, "I hope you know how to use that."

"Sure," Dante replied. "Swing and stab. No problem." His eyes were on the horizon, where Jack had been looking. "How far out are they?"

"They've already seen us." Jack replied. "They're moving this way… And fast."

"How many?"

"Five." He paused. "Make that six."

Dante still saw nothing. "Where?"

Jack pointed to a cluster of boulders several yards away. "They're coming from behind those."

Suddenly six thick bodied men leapt into view. They paused only briefly before plunging head long towards Dante and Jack.

****

Jack leveled his pistol and opened fire. There wasn't a hint of hesitation in the old man's movement. He fired each shot with mechanical precision, not pausing to see if his target had been hit. The first three rounds struck their nearest attacker squarely in the chest. He was dead before he hit the ground.

The next shot struck a bandit in the forehead. The body flipped over backwards, striking the ground with a hollow thud. Dante tensed, the knife ready in his hands, he had never been in a life threatening fight before. The closest he had come was in random fist fights, none of which held any possibility of being fatal.

Two more attackers toppled over as they ran. The remaining two men veered to the left, charging Dante head on. Jack swiveled in their direction, and sent one of the men flying headfirst into the dusty ground, a gaping wound in his neck.

Dante lunged towards the last man, swinging his knife wildly. To his surprise, the blade struck home, tearing a fresh hole in the gangster's side. The man shrieked as he fell to the ground, blood spurting out in all directions. Dante froze, his eyes meeting his opponent's, a tinge of guilt swept through him.

Jack's pistol barked, the downed attacker's skull exploded outward in one violent blur of movement. Dante took a deep breath and stepped back, his chest heaving. He glanced over to Jack who was already busy putting his pistol away. There wasn't a hint of emotion in the old man's eyes. He had just slaughtered six men without moving more than an inch… Without so much as flinching.

Silence hung in the air for several moments.

Jack glanced down at the bodies and sighed. "Lets keep moving."

Dante could find no words.

"What is it?" Jack asked. "Haven't you ever killed?"

Dante shook his head, "Not really. I've never seen anyone kill without so much as flinching…"

Jack shrugged. "Any humanity I had was lost years ago. Life means nothing to me."

The words sent a chill through Dante's body. "Why then? Why keep going?"

Jack was silent for a moment. "I've been dead for years, Dante. I'm just looking for a place to lie."

Dante shook his head and started walking.

****

After several days Dante noticed a strange smell in the air. He was about to comment on it when Jack spoke up.

"Pollen." He growled. "Its not far now."

There was a hint of emotion in the old man's voice, though Dante could not discern whether it was grief or joy. He could not begin to imagine what might be going through the old man's head.

And then the attack came.

Three men leapt out from behind an outcropping of nearby rocks with gun blazing. Dante dove for the ground in slow motion, bullets swooshing through the air behind him. There was a flurry of movement as Jack drew his pistol and opened fire.

Something went wrong.

Perhaps Jack was getting too old. His reflexes had slowed or his aim had wavered. Or perhaps his time had simply come.

Either way, Dante knew something was wrong the second Jack fell to his knees.

At that moment, Dante felt something that he had never experienced. Rage. Unbridled fury. Fire. Hatred for the men that had taken his only friend away from him. All Jack wanted was to see Eden before he died, and because of these monsters, he might never get the opportunity.

Dante was on his feet and running towards the attackers before he knew what had happened. As he ran, he pulled out his knife and let out a shriek of pure rage. One of the attackers was already on the ground, a fresh bullet hole in his throat. Yet the other two remained untouched as they opened fire on Dante.

Dante cried out as bullets raced by him. By some miracle, every shot missed its mark. For a brief moment, time slowed and everything was clear. He soared through the air, a pulsating monster of sheer vengeance.

Dante slammed his knife into the first attacker. Blood spurted into the air all around him. Without so much as pausing, he turned and struck the second man. As he lashed out at his enemies, something came alive inside of him.

Finally, he found himself standing over his fallen enemies. Dante dropped his knife and darted back over to Jack, who lay face first in the dust.

With great difficulty, he managed to turn the big man over. He was still alive, though barely.

"Dante." Jack said in a weak voice. "Dante, I…"

"You'll be ok." Dante said instinctively. "Don't worry."

"Oh no…" Jack replied. "I won't walk away from this." Just then the old man began to quiver violently. "Dear God." He gasped, "They've come for me…" His voice was growing weaker.

Dante became aware that he was weeping. "No, Jack… No you can't go."

Jack did not seem to hear him. His eyes were wide and unfocused. "Anna… I'm sorry… Anna…" Tears were streaming down his withered face, "Riley? Oh God… Riley…"

And then he smiled. For the first time ever, a peaceful smile washed over Jacks pale visage. "Thank you…" His eyes glazed softly over.

"Jack?" Dante cried out in vain.

But he was long gone. Spiraling up into the heavens on wings of glass…

The End

Bio: As a Michigan college student, David Allen finds that writing is the best way to evade reality. His other works have been seen in Aphelion, Titan, Dementia, The Writers Hood, and The Writers Outlet. Currently, David works as the action page editor for the Hood. Also, his first book "The Collection" has just reached print. If you'd like a copy, email David for details.

e-mail: vanosd@river.it.gvsu.edu