Next Moon

I found her in an old train car shivering and scared to the bone. She was just a child, with eyes as big as my cursed moon and skin as pure as a rogue cloud in forgotten blue skies. Her parents or protectors lay scattered yards away, their innards formed a trail of gore. The campsite dwindled to ash. I had sensed her a mile back. Her fragrance of innocence stood out in these wastelands like a blossomed flower. It seemed to purify the air with vibrant life and a beating heart that brought a forgotten rhythm.

I stood over her in silence for longer than I should have. She awaited her death with a strength not of a child but instead of something this world created. Where death would be like sleep without nightmares, where those same nightmares didn't greet you when you awoke. When I finally smiled, she began to whimper like a broken bird. I kneeled next to her in the hope of seeming less intimidating. She squeezed farther into her empty corner, her eyes never leaving me, big and round and endless, with a green like forgotten fields. I reached into my pouch and pulled out a piece of bread and placed it at her small bare feet. They were covered with the residue of dirt that covered this world, dirt that could never be washed away, not truly. After a moment, she grabbed it with small hands that shot back into her chest. She engulfed the bread with her eyes still locked on me. My smile remained as I pulled out my canteen of water. I set it down where I had put the bread, she grabbed it and took her eyes off me as she gulped it. I motioned for her to slow down and she did as her eyes found me again. My instincts told me I had done enough and should walk away and continue my endless journey into nothing but instead I sat down and fell into the opposite corner. Maybe it was exhaustion or curiosity, or just the need to be with the living, but I put my head back and closed my eyes. I hadn't rested in a long while, and fell into a heavy sleep.

I awoke to darkness and knew she hadn't moved; I could feel her shivering in the chilled night air and pulled off my cloak and slowly reached it over to her. She grabbed it and wrapped herself. I rose to my feet and spoke softly, "I need to take watch. It's not safe in these parts, especially at night." I then left her and made my way around the camp. Whatever had attacked them was long gone, but there could always be the next hungry thing lurking. I figured it only being a couple of weeks before the next moon and then I would be the thing to be feared.

I made my way back to the box car and I could hear that her breathing had calmed. I knew she had fallen asleep, which was probably the first time since the horrors she had seen. How had she survived? Maybe the little flower had more to her than I thought.

Nights in the wastelands were starless, like an empty black hole, unless it was time of the moon, then the night shone more than the days, and the dead earth seemed to rumble with life. I could already feel the moon approaching in my bones. It had been thirty years since the world I had grown up with disappeared, replaced by these very wastelands with random cities where survivors gathered and tried to start over. Some of them made an attempt at law and civilization, but it's more like the old wild west, where only the strong and ruthless survive, and the bad patrol the innocent. Although innocence seems to have vanished with everything else, becoming as forgotten as a latte or hope, but what was sleeping in that train car had me thinking otherwise.

I, on the other hand, was part of neither. I have been through most of the so-called cities or civilizations and what I found was just graveyards where survivors gathered and tried to build on bones. How could you rebuild with so many ghosts saying otherwise? I usually just stopped for food and materials or the occasional stiff bed to drown from whiskey and nightmares. All of which I bought from trade; money had no place--at least not yet. I would bring furs and seeds, and that would get me through my next wandering travels. There are a lot of valuables throughout the wastelands but not many are brave enough to venture far enough out to get them. Only a few like myself can live outside the communities, the others being made up mostly of savages or worse. It seems like those from the old world are the weak. The ones created from the new world flourish in the desolation of a dead land where the sun still rises as if to torment or to remind us that earth can flush out the scum of humanity and yet still bring a new morning. Proving that man is not king, but instead just a speck. This speck has no desire for anything more than what I need to survive. I travel the forgotten roads with no point or reason other than to be struck down by lightning or have my throat slit in the night, but that would be too kind in an unkind world where dreams died with the plague. A world where the cities know me as The Traveler, the one who does not age, or worse, die. That is partially true. I live from moon to moon and try to fill the in-between with empty steps and long swigs, laughing and crying at the mocking sun.

Her breathing had remained the same other than a few grunts from a likely nightmare. I sat down next to a dead tree, its roots soft and moist and the closest thing to a bed out in these parts. I laid my head back and looked up into the endless dark and listened to the small sounds of the night that seem to echo like an orchestra. The same sounds from a time when I wasn't The Traveler, a time when the moon wasn't the only light that gave me the energy to live.

Morning arrived like every other, a dimmed light from a partial sun, still mocking. She walked out of the boxcar rubbing her eyes; out of the shadows I could see her honey colored thick hair, her body even smaller and more vulnerable than any creature had a right to be in this place. She looked at me as she removed her hands from her eyes, black smudges left in their place. She asked for more bread. Her voice like somebody screaming in my ear after it being so long since I had heard someone outside of my shortened dreams. How long since it had been that of a child? It had it been a year, maybe two since I had entered a city. I had gone to the wasteland that time to die, and instead I found this girl in the middle of this endless nothing. Her family or guardians butchered, probably before her eyes, only a couple of nights earlier, yet still she had found the will and strength to survive in a dark corner of the darkest world with only the devil to come to her rescue.

After handing her some bread, I watched her eat it with more grace than the night before. Had she already figured there was more where that came from? I actually debated whether I should kill her there quickly and painlessly. Better to deal with that blood on my hands than to have to live with the failure of protecting her after becoming too attached. Instead I asked her if it were her parents that had been killed. She just stared at me with those large eyes and then shook her head. "They were my friends. They were taking me back east to find my mother."

I could only remember one friend in my lifetime, the greatest one, and she was gone. As were the ones who had helped this girl. Friends were just added to the list of extinct things that made us human. A list that was growing larger with every step I took and every starless, sleepless night I endured.

I asked her where back east, already knowing that I was as far east as I would go. She told me the City of York. Which was once the great city of New York. It is known that the City of York is a place of refuge, a place where civilization is more than a whisper. A place that resembles the old world. A place where I once was from, a place that holds too many memories from a time when memories mattered. A place I had no intention of returning to. Not to mention it was a good two week hike on foot. It suddenly made sense why this girl had hope; her head had been filled with stories of a magical city. I bluntly told her that her friends were brave but stupid for attempting such a foolish adventure. She looked up at me with anger in her eyes and asked why I was still alive. I told her I was different from most. I wanted her to hate me but instead her eyes softened. I told her the city she seeks doesn't exist, at least not as she thinks. "Have you been there?" was her response, and although I could have easily lied, I didn't. "No, not recently."

She then smiled and said "Well then, how do you know for sure?" And to that I had no answer. "Are you blessed?" She asked. I laughed obnoxiously loud. "No, my young one, not at all." I then took a swig from the canteen not filled with water. "I can take you back to the nearest city; it's about a week west of here. I have some connections there that can keep you safe."

"I don't want to be safe, I want my mom." Her eyes began to tear up making her look her age, young and fragile. I then asked her why her mom left. Frustration seeping into my voice. I could see that it was painful for her, her eyes like green waterfalls, mirrors to a deep path that I did not wish to venture. "She was supposed to come back," she said, convinced.

Who was I to trample hope? Who was I to question this child? Who was I to tell her that her mother laid scattered somewhere in the wastelands?

I changed the subject and asked her age. She told me she was nine and once again I was amazed that she was still alive. Children mostly didn't make it in this world. The ones that did were sickly or murderers. This child was so alive, so normal. It was painful to look at her, it reminded me of everything I had run from all these years. "I can take you to safety, but not to York. It's my final offer."

She seemed to ignore me. "I dreamed of you, or at least I dreamed of a stranger who would take me to York," she said, as once again I laughed.

"I can see how you got those fools to take you, but know that I am definitely no fool." I could see that she wanted to say more but instead put her head down. I began to gather my things; we would need a good start west. Then a few minutes later, to my surprise, she began walking east, a determined little creature in a devoured world. Yet she looked larger than the endless plains that surrounded the portrait, brighter than the pale sun and smarter than I, because she proved me the fool as moments later she began to fade in the distance and I followed her.

We walked in silence for hours, mostly because I was so agitated that I had given in. We were still a day or two too deep into the wasteland to worry too much about scavengers, but there were other dangers that I kept my focus on. The world outside city doors now belonged to nature, and while mankind had dwindled to near extinction, the creatures have flourished. They no longer feared man and liked to prove it with every chance they could. I have had my share of run-ins and the days that followed, licking my wounds. Now I traveled with bait and I could almost hear the wastelands growl with hunger. She, on the other hand, walked with purpose and confidence. Getting her way suited her.

Our path was once a great highway from the old world but now diminished to a dirt path with random artifacts of what it once was. A rusted license plate or a random skeleton of a vehicle lay to the side slowly being devoured by the soil it once trampled. During my early travels, I would try and put a face or a family behind the wheel, try and imagine the story the empty vehicle read, but now those stories are nothing but a weak whisper blowing in a distant wind not meant for the ears of the living.

"I have less than two weeks, then you will be on your own if we don't get there by then," I suddenly said, startling her with the breach of silence.

She then smiled. "In my dream you take me all the way."

I ignored her and quickly added, "It will need to be hard travel and not too many obstacles for us to stand a chance." I then picked up the pace into the endless dirt highway with the big stained sky above us and the buried souls of the forgotten below. Who was this girl to talk of dreams in a world haunted by nightmares?

Later, we took a break to eat, in which I might add I was running short on rations. I hadn't planned on another mouth to feed nor traveling deeper east. We were in the heart of the wastelands with no cities nearby. There would be nowhere to trade. Our food would have to be hunted; something I would do on my sleepless nights. The next city east would be in the old state of New Jersey. Now it is infested with scavengers growing angrier by the day as they look across the river at the City of York knowing they would never enter. There was no way I was walking into that area with the young girl and coming out unscathed. Unfortunately, the only entrance is through them, which is the biggest reason very few make it there from the west. Then why was I continuing this dead-end journey? Like most mysteries in this world, I had no answer.

I asked her name, realizing that I might as well get to know this strange one who I was risking so much for. She smiled and told me it was Vivien and that her mom called her Viv and that it was okay if I did also. She then asked mine, and I told her it didn't matter. She scrunched her nose and was about to say something but instead just nodded. Smart girl.

After a while she stopped walking and looked at me curiously. She then asked, "Are you good or evil?" once again bringing me to laughter.

"A little of both, I guess," which seemed to satisfy her as she once again began to walk. I felt that she wasn't afraid of me even though I truly knew she believed what I said. I then asked her about the night that left her guides dead. At first, she remained silent and I feared I had gone too far. Then she began to talk.

"I am not sure. Something was attacking Gabe outside the camp. Jeb told me to hide as he checked on it and so I did. I heard them scream and I wanted to help but I couldn't move. After the screams stopped I could hear something moving outside. It was making funny sounds like an animal or something but it sounded like it walked like a man. I thought it would find me but it didn't." I could see the fear overtaking her face, her body was shivering and I knew I should leave, walk away like I always do, but instead I put my hand on the back of her head and told her she was safe and that it was over and whatever was there that night was long gone. I told her the opposite of what I should. I had walked upon a journey with no happy ending, only more pain to keep me awake during the wasted nights.

During this we had stopped moving, and I knew we needed to go. Only a few hours left of daylight and every step was crucial. "Can't we stay a little longer? I am so tired." She said as she looked up at me with pleading eyes, a child's eyes.

"I can carry you on my shoulders if you like, but we have to move," I said, knowing that as we got closer to the moon and my strength and energy increased, I could easily walk through the night, but it would kill her. Just a few hours more and I would let her rest.

The air was growing cooler and I let her wrap up in a couple of my shirts. I then picked her up and put her on my shoulder. She felt weightless and I wondered how long before I would bury her like everything else I touched. How long before only her scent lingered?

After an hour, she fell asleep. I walked to the rhythm of her breaths. Were they growing shallow? I started to panic like a worried parent. What was happening to me? It would be dark soon; the sun only peeked through a lone cloud, illuminating the sky with a blended orange that almost looked peaceful. I had pulled her off my shoulders and now cradled her from the dusty wind that had picked up. The temperature had dropped a significant amount and I feared she would get sick. I had never felt so helpless. Against my instincts, I decided to set up camp. A few hundred yards off the road to the south, a ghost of an old tanker lay. Dark shadows sat perched on its rusted frame. If the vultures were around, so was death, but I had to stop. I chased the winged beasts away as they circled for a bit, eyeing us with contempt. I lay her inside the large vehicle. Darkness had come and the wind had picked up. I was happy that I had found her some shelter, even if it was nothing more than a rodent graveyard. I gathered some wood for a fire and got it started. She awoke for a second from the force of the heat, but quickly rolled up in a ball and closed her eyes. I covered her with my cloak and then pulled out my blade and did a thorough search of the perimeter. We were approaching scavenger territory, and even though we were still out of range there could be a possible group in the area. After being satisfied, I returned to the fire with some more wood. I was really starting to feel the effects of the approaching moon. My senses were more in tune, my body was becoming restless, my mind sharper. The last thing I needed was to stay still, I wanted to keep moving, keep roaming in my eternal bliss.

I wouldn't be able to sleep even if I wanted to, but if I didn't try to relax I would go crazy, and what good would that be for her? She would need me as sane as possible. I could at least do that until the moon arrived. I sat down in the steel skeleton and did something I rarely ever did. I let myself remember. It was like opening an old door that led to the basement you never went in, the basement where all the strange noises came from. What was happening to me?

I was about the girls age, sitting at church next to my father. He sat erect and focused and I was restless and bored. I would love staring up at him, he was larger than life and occasionally, he would throw me a quick smirk. I tugged on his strong rough hand and he looked at me annoyed, but not too much. I whispered "Daddy, why do men become priests?" He leaned over to me, his aftershave strong and comforting. "Because they are real superheroes." He said and then winked and turned his focus back to the sermon. Less than a year later he would die from a heart attack. Everyone close to me told me he was in heaven. I believed it then. I no longer did.

I sensed them long before they circled our camp. There were three and they had spread out about 100 yards amongst a thin line of trees and brush. I slid my blade through the first one's neck, I cut it out through his Adams apple practically decapitating him. The next one, I slid the blade through his lower back while I covered his gurgled scream with my other hand. My sharp blade easily slid up his spine filleting him. The third I walked right up to. He looked at me with shock in his eyes, his face turned pale beneath all the grime. He made a move with his long knife but this close to the moon it was as if he was in slow motion. I broke his arm, then his other, then each leg. After breaking his back I let him suffer for a while before slicing his throat. I stood there for a time enjoying it, but also regretting that I was reminded what I truly am. A killer. I left the bodies for the animals and returned to camp. I didn't want to waste any of our limited water, so I wiped off the evidence with dirt. My adrenaline was flowing and I would not be able to stay still. I walked the perimeter of the camp until dawn and many times almost just kept walking. Walking back to the empty safe world I had created, one where I would not have to reveal myself to someone that it mattered to. Then once again I found myself packing the camp with a new day awakening along with a child who's fever had broken, and for that I was glad.

That morning the sun shone bright and the added heat was welcome. I offered to carry her but she insisted on walking. We were low on food and water and by nightfall I would have to hunt for dinner. Although the fever had gone she looked pale and fatigued. It was a reminder how fragile life was and how it could be taken away with a strong wind or neglected cough. The last time I was sick was before the incident that changed my life, years before the war. I almost missed the idea of a cough or a fever. It would have made me feel normal, made me forget about the disease in my soul.

She didn't seem talkative so I didn't press, although I was becoming addicted to conversation no matter how forced and choppy it was. We continued down the long highway kicking up dust and dried blood still on my hands. The highway before the war was barren, with only random exits that lead to civilization. Now those exits were long gone, swallowed by earth as it had regained ownership. This part of the country had been landscaped with endless farming but now it was just barren fields that added to the epidemic state of melancholy.

The sky opened and it seemed larger than I recalled in recent memory. Staring up at heavens blue eyes you could almost believe in such a thing. I looked down at the innocent child, her long golden hair as alive as her spirit. I knew that her mom had abandoned her, told her a lie to ease the blow and that she probably had never even left for York but instead shacked up with some man on the other side of town. Afraid to be responsible for a life in this wretched world. It was common, easier to run and hide than be a parent. You would think that children would be a priority, to build the future, but the truth was that humans were just waiting to die. Live out their days as best they could and then let mankind disappear. Thirty years ago, humanity was destroyed, all those that survived understand and accept it knowing they had missed the rapture. Then why do I buy into this little girl's journey? Because she carries with her something that is very contagious: hope. It has lit something deep in my soul that has thawed out a few of my layers and allowed me to get closer to something I haven't felt in a lifetime: being human. The moon would eventually take that away, just as her destiny was sealed the moment she left her home with those two buffoons. At least I could allow her last days to be filled with hope, even as it occurred to me that my fate had also been sealed the moment I took a step east. Maybe that was part of what was going with me; I had possibly broken a barrier by taking steps toward a past that had been missing for so long.

Later the morning sun was eclipsed by what seemed like one large grey cloud that hovered above, disbursing large growls that made Viv shake and grab my lower arm. I would have to find shelter soon or we would be drowned, followed by her getting sick again. I searched the fields looking for something that could keep us dry. I spotted something a few hundred yards away. It looked to be some sort of farming machine, or what was left of it. I picked her up and ran towards it. The first drops of rain began and they were large and cold and shocking us into reality. Fifty feet from our shelter the sky opened and buckets fell on us as the heavens roared and laughed.

The machine was unrecognizable due to decades of abandonment and also being stripped of anything salvageable (wheels, motor etc.). It was large enough for us to crawl underneath, rain finding us through gaps in the rusted steel. There were sharp broken edges all around and I had to move cautiously as I covered the holes with anything I could grab out of my bag. A few minutes later, with us both more wet than I had hoped, the leaks stopped, blocked by most of my belongings. I grabbed my remaining clothes and tried to get Viv dry. I covered her up and buried her into my chest. Lightning struck somewhere close by, causing her to practically jump out of my arms. When the time came, would I be able to hold her tight enough?

Eventually she stopped shaking and I laid her down covered and grabbed everything we had that could gather water and set them up outside. At least we wouldn't have to go off course to find water. The rain had no intention of slowing down and I tried to control my temper knowing how much time we were losing. The idea of being stagnant when we were supposed to be making time was unbearable, especially since keeping still was not an option this close to the moon.

Viv must have sensed my tension because she started talking about random things. She told me of her home and how she never felt safe, especially after her mother had gone. She told me of the strange men who would stare at her like they wanted to hurt her. I listened through gritted teeth. Her story and the nearing moon feeding my appetite for violence. She told me of the two guardians and how they had known her mom and promised to look after her. They made sure she ate, even though food was hard to come by. They also read her stories about adventures and bravery. Her favorite was about a boy wizard and his loyal friends. That brought a smile to my face. "I want to be brave like those stories but sometimes I am not. I wanted to be brave that night but I wasn't." She said as she put her head in her lap and began to cry softly from somewhere deeper than anyone her age should. I gently lifted her head and gave her a genuine smile. "You're the bravest person I ever met," I said and she looked at me with her big watered eyes and for the first time in a long while I allowed myself to hate the world. I hated that she was born into it, I hated that it could not offer what she deserved and I hated myself because I was the spawn of it.

It was two hours before the rain stopped. Viv had fallen asleep for the last hour, and before I woke her, I once again thought about leaving. Not exactly for the same reasons as before. We would be in scavenger territory by the end of the day or by mid-morning. I had heard stories of the ruthless monsters that they are. Not civilized enough to start their own city but instead are spread out in camps across the state. Some of them have vehicles run on stolen gas. They ride around terrorizing like an old Mad Max movie. I knew it was no place for Viv to see, let alone travel through. At the very least she would die in my arms, or worse she would be taken, raised to live barely human and with a thirst to shed blood. I decided I would try and talk her out of it one last time. As I shook her gently to wake her and felt her cold wet body under my large worn hands, I knew I would follow this little one to the end of this forsaken land.

"We could always go back west. I could protect you there," I offered as we walked down the old 80 Highway with the sun once again peeking through. The sky had become smaller with hills and mountains in the new distant landscape, also deadlier.

"I need to get to my mom," is all she said, and I didn't push it. She was only nine but had lived enough to determine her own fate.

"Where do you have to go?" She asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You said you had less than two weeks to get me there. Where are you going?"

"To a bad place. A place that you cannot come to with me."

"I would go with you."

Her words touched a nerve. It was one thing to care for something, something entirely else for it to care for you. "Thank you, but that will never be an option," was all I could say. I couldn't tell her that the bad place was inside me. I couldn't tell her that soon it would make its way to the surface. I couldn't tell her that it was I who was the bad place.

We continued east and I couldn't help but notice a scent behind us. I had noticed it before but now that my senses were heightened it really stood out. Someone or something was following us. Its scent was somewhat familiar even though I couldn't place it. It was keeping the same distance from when I had first sensed it a day earlier which meant that it wasn't trying to sneak up, just following. Did it want the girl? "Viv, I didn't want to have to ask you this, but it may be important. I need to know everything that happened the night your guardians were attacked." My voice was stern with a trace of anxiousness. She must have read it because she didn't fight, but instead tried to remember, even though it terrified her. "We stopped to eat and camp for the night. Joff thought it was a good place because of the old train car, he said we could take shelter if it rained. Zev had hurt his ankle and looked like he could use the rest. Right after we finished with supper it was dark, very dark. I was scared but I felt safe with Zev and Joff. They had looked after me so well. I was so tired I couldn't keep my eyes open. I fell asleep next to the fire and Zev and Joff sang a song I had never heard as they drank from a tin bottle. I don't think it was water, I think it was the funny juice. I woke up with Zev over me in the train car. His eyes were big and he was shaking. I heard a horrible scream from outside, the scream was the scariest thing I had ever heard. Zev told me not to move no matter what and went outside to find Joff. I then heard another scream, almost same as the first. It went quiet for a while and then I heard someone walking outside. I was so scared I wanted to call out to Joff or Zev but I felt like it wasn't them. I saw its shadow as it walked by the fire, it walked like a man, but I don't think it was. Do you believe in monsters, Mister?"

"I am afraid I do."

"So do I."

For the rest of the day we made good time. Viv seemed to have more energy and she could keep up for the most part. I on the other hand was bound up with energy and anxiety. What was following us? What was waiting for us? I was almost relieved when we called it a day and made camp. We made it just off the ghost highway. There was more forest around and I wanted to stay close to the road where it was open. We ate the last of the rations for supper. I skipped the meal and let her have a few helpings. I figured to hunt later and burn some of the increasing energy that flowed through my body. I made a small fire and sat with her as she dozed off talking about her mother and how beautiful and brave she was. After she fell asleep I sat back and allowed myself to remember again.

I was seventeen and had already decided to join the priesthood. It would have been an easy decision if not for Amber. We had been friends since grade school. Our fathers had been partners in a construction company. After my father passed, her father had made a great effort to help my mother and I. When I was old enough he taught me the trade of masonry, the trade by which he and my father had made their living. He had two kids, Amber, who was my age, and Jonathan, who was a few years older. Amber and I had hit it off from the get-go. We both loved sports, the same movies, and even had the same isolated hideouts where we would go and unwind or dream or even plot our revenge on whoever had earned our anger. As we grew into teenagers we went partly different ways, but still always made time for each other by going to the river or our favorite theater or park. Amber was growing into a beautiful woman and was gaining much attention around school, especially from my fellow teammates on the football team, who told me to shit or get off the pot, but even then, I knew better than to ruin a good thing. Instead I dated girls I didn't really like and she dated boys I hated.

We sat by the river one day watching a stream of oil or something flowing by like a giant sea snake. I told her I wanted to be a priest, and she cried, but told me it was because she was happy for me. But I knew different and quickly changed the subject. I didn't mention it again until it happened, but it was that moment where I banished a dream we both had. It was that day I remember the most. How beautiful she looked with that river breeze blowing her auburn hair slightly to the side, exposing her teary eyes that seemed to stare off into a place I would never be able to go. Never able to follow.

Not much after, we graduated high school and went our separate ways. It wouldn't be until years later that we truly connected again. When my biggest regret came to be, when I truly turned into the monster I have become.

I am quickly startled by Viv's sudden movement. She sat up half asleep and looked for me. When her eyes found me she smiled and laid back down. I wish I was the same person by that river that day. That person could protect her, but that person is gone.

I walked out towards the line of trees. They stood as dark shadows, even in the black night, dancing over the fire a few hundred yards back. I hunted through the rest of the night, catching a few rabbits and snakes. I had them skinned and packed away as the new dawn appeared. Soon we would travel into hostile territory and the nights of sleeping in the open would be gone. We would be in hiding, with no fires for warmth or midnight strolls lost in thought. My insides were now at a civil war. The energy was seeping through my pores and my mind was going places I had no control of. It would get worse by the day, until the moon arrived. I hated myself for being so selfish and coming this far. What kind of monster had I become, that I would risk a young precious life for moments of humanity?

That morning in the distance, I heard an engine screaming our way, a sound alien in this world. I stood and could see a dust cloud approaching. I quickly woke Viv and thought of running into the trees, but there wasn't enough time; they were approaching fast and they would see the camp, and even if we made it to the trees they would search for us. Better to face it now, whatever it might be. Viv hid behind me, I could feel her small arms wrapped around my leg. The vehicle was approaching quick. Its engine sounded like thunder from all the heavens.

I told Viv to stay by the camp as I walked to the road. She fought it but gave in. I could feel her big eyes on my back as I approached the lonely highway. As the vehicle came into view, it looked to be some kind of jeep with obnoxiously large tires. A cracked windshield was covered with a film of dirt, with the outline of the windshield wipers, which were working at top speed to keep up with the dust. It stopped fifty feet in front of me. The vehicle itself seemed to eye me up and down as it growled into an idle. I felt anxious. My instinct this close to the moon was to just attack and ask questions later, but I had to be careful with Viv's eyes glued to me from the camp, finally, eyes that mattered. A door creaked open and a large man slowly got out. He seemed to stand to the sky and I wondered how he fit in the vehicle. His long dark hair hung past his hulking shoulders, he was shirtless and covered in sloppy tats that blended into patches of bleeding ink that made him look like a pitiful devil or the spawn of a drug infested art project and a wrestler. I expected nothing else, who else would travel out in these parts so close to scavenger territory? He was no scavenger, probably a mercenary, and for him to stop, it meant that he didn't want to be seen. It meant he was going to kill us. He carried a shotgun that I knew he wouldn't use, shells were hard to come by. In fact, he probably had none, just carried it to intimidate his opponent. He closed the door and walked to the front of the vehicle with one eye on the camp. He must have spotted Viv because a smirk appeared on his face. He pulled out a large cleaver from the back of his pants. There would be no talking, no bargaining, we would get right to it. I pulled out my blade. He tossed the shotgun back in the jeep. I wanted to look over at Viv, tell her it was going to be okay but I couldn't bare for her to see my eyes. I knew they were mirrors of the creature she would eventually see, but not on that day. I wanted to rip off my clothes, they felt unnatural, I wanted to scream, I felt so alive, so real.

I attacked like something from the wild, leaping at my opponent and catching him off guard. My blade sliced through his shoulder. He was as powerful as he looked. He retaliated with a quick elbow to my jaw which knocked me back, my mouth salty and my head racing. Did I hear Viv scream? His eyes had lost some of their confidence. He wasn't sure what he was up against, and I could smell his concern. I attacked again, this time my blade catching a chunk of his flesh from his chest. I went right into a defensive stance but my opponent had already lost a lot of blood from his shoulder and was now making his way backward trying to reach for the door handle. I knew the battle was already over and I felt disappointed. I thought it was going to be a challenge.

I could let him fall in his car and drive away and probably bleed to death before reaching anywhere to get help or run his mouth. It would make me look better in front of her but that wasn't the world we lived in. Here you killed or got killed. I pierced the blade through his throat as he scrambled for retreat. His eyes watered and grew big as the red spilled out of him. He looked like he wanted to say something, maybe confess or maybe thank me. Instead he collapsed into a large pile at my feet. I just stood there for a while, not wanting to face her, I felt as if every step forward I had taken was for nothing. There was no being human in a world were being the monster kept you alive.

After a short while I made my way over to the camp. She stared past me as I stood in front of her. She saw the world mapped on my bloodied jacket tracing over the fairy tales that had guided her young mind. Her savior was not the likes she had dreamed, soon she would not dream at all, and yet another light would be stomped out.

I packed up our things and made my way back to the road. I searched through the vehicle and found some extra water and food. There were some other useful things, but we had enough to carry. I thought for a split second of taking the jeep but it was too dangerous. Vehicles and gasoline are so rare that it would be a calling card for everything evil in the area. Who knows how much attention the mercenary had brought with him? We needed to get moving, and know that behind every tree or rusted metal there could be enemies.

"Shouldn't we bury him?" she asked. She seemed afraid and it tore me apart.

"There isn't time," I replied.

"I am afraid if we don't bury him it will be bad for your soul." At that, I chuckled to myself. This girl wasn't afraid of me, she was scared for my immortal soul.

I buried him on the side of the road. It took almost an hour but it was worth putting a smile back on her face. She skipped next to me down the road as if nothing had changed. We were lucky that the scavengers weren't upon us yet. We would soon be in their backyard and I would get the challenge I had wished for. I wondered what was worse for her in the future, them, or the lurking moon. It seemed unfair.

The rest of the day was uneventful even though we were approaching dangerous territory. It would be our last night in the open. I made us a big meal from the rabbits I had caught the previous evening. The night was chilly and we huddled next to the small fire. I smiled as she told her nightly stories of princes and fairytales before passing out. My mind was far elsewhere, my senses had grown unbearably sharp. I could hear the creatures rambling through the nearby forest as if they were at my feet. I could hear their low hymns echoing through the trees that loomed like giant men, still and watching. In the distant sky like a peeking brother a piece of the moon illuminated and put fire to my skin. I closed my eyes and thought of the night where everything changed. A memory I had rarely visited.

The phone rang as I lay on my cot watching through my small window the rain dripping and snaking down the glass. The ring startled me as I was falling into a relaxed state, partially due to the bottle of whiskey that sat half full under my bed. The ring itself sounded different, like a familiar sound or tune that hummed in the distance drawing you with its escaping familiarity. I picked it up on the third ring. At first there was silence, then a small exhale of breath that wasn't meant for my ears but had leaked louder than planned. I fumbled a hello and then waited knowing the mystery would be either settled or left to torment me. "Peter" said a woman's broken voice. I knew it immediately. I hadn't heard from her in a decade. Not since the night we allowed our caged passions to roam wild.

We were eighteen and I was heading to the monastery and her to college. I had awoken the following morning in the Super 8 room ready to confess my love only to find the other side of the bed empty. Her imprint in the sheets left like a fossil into my tormented soul. She knew what I would do in the morning and left before I had the chance. She was going to college in Boston, was planning on leaving the following week, but left that morning instead. I went on to become a priest. That rainy night ten years later was the first time I had heard from her. I had the right to be angry, but instead it took all my strength not to burst into tears. I had missed her every day, every moment. I was a priest sick from a lost love. I had hated my weakness for all these years, but on that other side of the phone I had felt its strength fully and knew no man would have had the power to fight it.

"Ash, it is good to hear your voice." I said, holding back a waterfall of emotions and a lifetime of regret. Even though that call is what lead me to the place I am in, it still is one of the great moments in my life, a rare memory when my heart truly had a beat. I can still hear the soft rain, taste the whiskey on my tongue along with the salt from the rogue tear that had escaped.

"I need your help," she said, lowering her voice to barely a whisper, as if she was afraid someone would hear. She did the same thing when we were kids by the river, she would whisper in my ear even though nobody was around. It was her way to show me that it was for my ears only. I missed our hours by the river, where life seemed too short but perfect and safe. I felt my body numb with excitement and fear.

"Where are you?" My voice partly broken, higher than usual.

"Upstate, in the same town as father's summer place."

I remember going up there for summers as a kid after dad died. It was a small town populated with farms and streams, with rolling hills of green. It was one of my favorite memories as a child. "Of course, I remember."

"Could you come tonight?"

"Ash, are you in trouble?"

"Yes but it's not me, it's my daughter."

The words were like a blow to my gut. Sure, it had been ten years since I had seen her and I suppose the idea of her having her own family made sense but it came as a shock. "I am on my way."

Before hanging up, she gave me her home's actual address. I didn't own a car, but the church did. Taking it in the middle of the night to drive three and a half hours upstate to visit the love of my life was not its purpose, even if she was in need.

I mostly walked to everywhere I needed to go, so driving was not something I did often. As I hopped into the older Ford Bronco I realized I had never actually driven it. I started it up and was pleased to see that it had a full tank of gas. I pulled out from behind the church and it disappeared like a large shadow from my rearview mirror, and I wondered if I would ever see it again.

I crossed over the Tappan Zee Bridge around three in the morning, the Bronco's tires humming over the vacant road. I couldn't remember the last time I had left for upstate. It had been a long time, of that I was sure, and there was something therapeutic about leaving the city behind, leaving the church behind.

An hour later my stomach was growling and I needed to stop, the previous night's whiskey swishing at the bottom of my empty stomach like an ocean of acid. I stopped at a diner and sat in a booth where I was served by a nice waitress who had kind eyes, but tried to hide her age with too much makeup I ordered eggs and coffee and realized how nervous I was when the coffee mug shook in my hand. I wanted to think it was just nerves, but something deep told me it was something worse, much worse.

I left the diner to the dawn of the new day which didn't look too optimistic. The sky opened grey like the stone walls that lined the road. Despite the lack of sun, there was something refreshing about driving through the country roads, blanketed with the forest they sliced through. Small delis and gas stations along the side coming in bunches before disappearing to country nothing. I rolled the window down and felt the fall breeze with an accent of the stream that ran with authority just over the bank and out of my sight like a hidden rainbow.

I passed a wood carving shop where two giant Indians stood scowling down upon me as I passed. The detail was so magnificent I could see the wrinkles in their brow as they judged me and all others who dare drive by and peek. I wondered if their master sat back and laughed in his small cabin as his giant watch dogs kept all away so he could keep this wonderful peace to himself.

I passed a Harley Davidson shop that stood out among the wooden houses with peeling paint like wrinkled skin, and fish and tackle shops that were advertised with blown up pictures of locals holding their catches with giant smiles. The Harley shop was mostly made of glass and it stood high with its bikes peeking out the windows, their waxed bodies winking in the partial sun that was trying to make its way out.

As it grew later in the morning the road became more crowded. The drivers sipping on coffee as their eyes carried stress of the workday ahead. Due to my lack of driving experience I drove too slow and was honked at on more than one occasion as lines grew behind me in the single lane. I was relieved when I finally pulled off the main road for the private one that Ash had reminded me of on the phone. "Take the road that Dad took. It will save you a good 45 minutes." I took her advice and pulled onto a road that grew even more narrow, with multiple small bridges that passed over the stream that sang to me that whole morning before the road headed up a mountain-like incline. The forest hovered over the road like overgrown weeds as I continued to ascend, winding around turns that made me strangle the steering wheel and go periods without breathing.

I tried to remember the drive when I was a kid. I didn't recall many of the landmarks, other than a large brick home that sat back from the winding road, with acres of landscaped green that stood out amongst its modest neighbors. At the front of the driveway sat two massive piers of dark red brick, same as the home it presented. Atop of the piers were two lions carved out of stone. Their large mouths sat open with silent roars. Ash's father told me it was home to a mafia kingpin the first time he saw me in awe of it. It was right after I had watched "The Godfather" without any adult's consent, which made the house scare the shit out of me, and the true reason behind the impression it left.

Aside from the brick home, the other thing that I remembered was the country air. It seemed to carry an antidote in its subtle breeze, one that cured you of all anxiety and pressures of urban life. What was there to worry about when streams snaked around you and you were surrounded by a valley that rolled with a fluorescent green like a portrait from old America?

It's what I saw as I left the mountain and continued down the long stretch that would take me to my destination. The sun was smiling wider as the morning opened, and I wanted to be happy, wanted to allow the antidote to do its magic, but there was something else lingering in that breeze, something stronger than the country cure.

When I arrived in the town where she lived, I became nervous. I pulled over at a small grocer to get some coffee and use the bathroom. I sat in the truck and debated whether I could see her, touch her, help her. Although I had dreamed of this day for a decade, I couldn't stop my hands from shaking and my heart from leaping like a bullfrog with a pond in sight. I sat there for a while taking deep breaths, watching some locals come and go from the store. Their stares friendly but judging.

Inside, the grocer, a young girl, drew me a map to Ash's house which was on the outskirts of town. At first the girl had been standoffish, but when I told her my profession her eyes lit up and she warmed to me. I wondered how many priests came to this town, how many broken ones?

I left the grocer and the main part of town, which only consisted of the store I left, along with a gas station with one pump and a broken sign that hung from the window that read "Cigarettes for Sale". A small diner was across the street in a building that was divided in half with a bar. The diner had a small storefront window where an older lady sat drinking a cup of coffee and watching me as I pulled out.

As I drove up the rood out of Main Street, I passed a row of single-family homes, neat and simple. Then I hit a stretch of no homes other than farms, which were divided by acres and acres of cornfields and cows grazing. Seeing it calmed me down a bit.

I turned onto another road where even the farms were dwindling. It was paved but unmaintained. I drove for a few miles with only heavy forest and random open fields for my view. I then finally came to Ash's road which was completely unpaved and seemed to cut into the mountain like a manmade path. One in which you could see the entrance, but soon after it was swallowed by the forest tentacles and dared you to enter. I turned onto it and wondered why Ash had chosen such desolation. She had always been so social, the life of the party. What had made her hide away in the woods? What had made her call me for help after all these years?

Despite the fact the road was creepily uninhabited, it had a remarkable charm. Driving up the moderate mountain felt as if you could be anywhere. Any forest in any country, in any time. I reached her driveway about a mile and a half up. It was terribly steep and long, with only gravel as a base. I couldn't see her home from the bottom but I knew it was correct from the sign that read "Veterinarian". I knew because that is what she always wanted to be. I started the incline and suddenly all my anxiety disappeared. I was going to see my Ash and no matter what awaited me at the top of that driveway, there was no place I would rather be.

It was almost morning. I had allowed myself to get lost in memories all night. Had I slept? Viv lay sleeping comfortably next to the dwindling fire. I needed to get us some food before we set off. Fall would soon turn into winter, and the morning brought a chill as a reminder.

I was back at camp moments before Viv would awake. I had a hare on the fire and two others packed away. I could still sense our follower; somewhere off in the distance he watched us. It made me anxious. I wanted to rip out of my skin and give in to the approaching moon, give in to the hunt. What was out there, lurking and teasing my instincts?

Viv woke with a smile and an appetite. I let her eat the whole breakfast; my hunger was not for cooked hare. Soon after, we were back on the road. The morning chill had once again given in to the sun. It hung naked above, not a cloud to be seen. We walked with determination, with random giggles at pointless stories shared, her laugh refreshing and energizing. It seemed so alien in this place, it rebelled against all that the world had become, and I was sure that angered it to the core, and that made it all worth it.

I thought of begging her to turn around yet again, but knew it wasn't an option any more, for either of us. Destiny had led us to that point, and of that I was sure. It hovered over us like a low cloud, our heads engulfed in its puffy cushioned state, feeding us with the one thing missing in all the lands: hope.

Viv had fought off the cold that had plagued her the first days of our trip. Her skin had a normal color to it; although naturally pale, it glowed, illuminating. She seemed to had forgotten of the incident the day before. I had brutally murdered someone and yet she didn't look at me as a monster; still she saw her protector. I wondered about her father, who she never spoke of. Did he walk around this forsaken world with the pain that only the loss of a child could bring? A pain that never goes away, no matter how many lifetimes you disappear to, always a fresh wound that endlessly bleeds out your soul.

We found a small pond later in the morning. It sat off the road in a field of overgrown green as if life had fallen from the sky and landed in that spot, polluting the area with breath. The water was clear and acted as a mirror showing our traveled faces and the heavenless sky. We took a break to clean up; the water was brisk but we welcomed it as we splashed and laughed while passing back and forth the one small bar of soap that I had in my pack. Her laughter was so real it brought tears rolling down my face, blending in with the pond water. I let her finish washing in private as I walked out of the pond, my clothes soaked, but the strong sun overhead and the recent laughter made it all worth it.

The first arrow entered my shoulder, it jolted me a bit and then the second entered my thigh. I could see my assailants jump out of hiding only a hundred feet away. They were prepared to celebrate a victory, and why not. They had scouted us and knew it was just I and the girl. The pond was a perfect trap, irresistible to anyone coming down the road. I had been a fool to fall for it, to let my guard down. I screamed to Viv to stay low and then charged.

I could see there were four of them and I reached the first two amidst a victorious laugh. I broke both their necks and almost twisted off their heads with the anger that fueled me. The third had time to see me and pull out a long-rusted knife. A look of shock on his face as I speared his own blade from the bottom of his chin to the top of his head. He dropped to my feet with that same look. The fourth was a woman, or at least once was. She now was more of a creature than anything else. Her head was half shaved and littered with tattoos that looked self-carved, the ink being dried-up blood. Her face bore the same scars, and her toothless mouth hissed at me in anger. She leaped at me and I easily snapped her neck. She slid to my feet leaving her blade in my chest.

I could hear Viv running to me. I turned to her and she ran into my arms. Her small body trembling and her cries muffed by my embrace. I knew she thought I would die, and as I pulled her away all I could see was love in her eyes. They stared at me like glossy mirrors that showed a highway of pain straight to her small soul. What did my eyes show her? Could she see the monster that hid behind them?

"It's okay. I will be fine." I said, knowing that she knew the wounds I sustained would kill any man. I wasn't even completely sure I would survive them.

I needed rest, I had lost a good amount of blood and though I would heal quickly, I needed to get off my feet. Viv seemed to understand as she quickly tried to get me to lie down. "Not here. We need to get to the ridge of the trees. We can rest there. It is safer."

I could feel myself losing consciousness as we made our way to the trees. I knew we were in a bad place and surely there were more scavengers around. I just hoped that seeing their fallen comrades would make them cautious and allow us time, time for me to heal. Those were my last thoughts as I slipped away.

When I awoke it was dark. Viv was close and breathing hard. I sat up quickly and realized we were under something. I soon realized we were inside a dead fallen tree. "Good thinking," I said to her, truly impressed. We were in complete darkness. The air was frigid and I could feel her shaking. My wounds had almost completely healed. "Thanks for taking out the arrows." I knew it had been a hard job for anyone, let alone a nine-year-old kid.

"How come you heal so fast?" her voice distant and fading. I realized she must be exhausted.

"I will explain in the morning, but now get some rest, you did great today." I said.

Her breath was heavy and I knew she was afraid. "I heard some people not too long ago, I think they were close," she said in a broken whisper.

I gently helped her lie down at my side, her shivering an ache to my heart. "It's okay, I am better now, I will keep you safe."

I could sense the scavengers that she mentioned. They weren't too far off, but they were afraid. Their fear hung in the air fermenting with the breeze. I knew they would not come into the woods searching for us that night. They know someone had killed four of their kind with his bare hands. Word would spread fast. The coming days would bring challenges from their best warriors and it would happen in daylight with an audience as if we were back in the days of the gladiators, because entertainment never dies, it only morphs with the times of the world. Some might even know of me, the one who wanders the lands too violent for a human soul. Where not even humanities ruins dare to enter, only the one who rose from hell and has fire in his veins and the devil hiding in his shadow. Yes that is what will be said, and they will be right and they should shiver with fear, because I will kill them all if they try to hurt her.

I could almost feel it moving under my skin. I had awoken it with my anger and being so close to the moon. I was slipping away, I could feel myself growing farther from Viv, and though she lay at my side it felt as if she was across the field in the everlasting night. I had to control it or lose the only precious thing that I had ever found in this new world. The only thing that made my stone heart attempt to beat again, the only thing that helped me remember! I closed my eyes and did just that.

I drove up the driveway and at the top was a large clearing made of the same gravel. A new A-frame home with a large wrap around porch that looked down into the surrounding valley stood before me like a portrait of home, a real home. I could hear dogs barking which seemed to come from another structure on the property. A double-wide with yellow siding and a large fenced-in area attached to its side where dogs that tried to get their jaws through the wire and get to me. It was where her practice was held, as a large sign hung from the double wide door with her name, which still was her maiden name. There was also a large shed with its doors open and a tractor half in and half out. From behind it popped out Ash and my heart stopped for a moment and I think I temporarily died or was reborn, I couldn't really tell, but one thing was for sure--everything had changed.

She looked almost the same, even better, as age had suited her, the girlish face that had followed her up to the last time I had seen her was now all woman, a fine wine, a map to all that was good. I stood there motionless as she walked to me with eyes teared with joy and pain and fear for what would come next. As we embraced, her auburn hair which was longer than I ever remembered, smelled of all the flowers of the countryside, and her petite body was deceivingly strong, toned from working and dark from sun exposure. The strength in her embrace took me off guard. It was fueled with built up life.

I knew then why she had left. It was because I would have given it all up for her. I would have followed her to any mountain top, no matter how desolate. I had been hers since that summer day when she kissed my cheek after my father had died and let the tears that I fought so hard run down her face. She had swallowed my pain and let me know things were going to be okay, because I would have her, I would always have her.

At that moment, I realized something that I had known deep down inside as soon as I had picked up the phone. I was not going back to the church. I was no longer a priest.

"We don't have much time." Her voice breaking as her face imprinted into my shirt.

I gently pushed her away. "Not much time for what?" I needed to know what was causing her pain, what could possibly keep us apart. My question was answered a second later as she came running from the back of the A-frame, her long dark hair tangled in her pink sweatshirt. I felt a lump in my chest as she got closer, and I saw my mother and father and Ash and myself in her face. She was a melting pot of all those I loved.

"I have wanted to tell you every day, every moment of her existence," she said from behind, her voice seemed to be trailing as if she was backing away. My head was spinning and there was an immense pressure underneath my face, emotions I had never known were boiling under the skin of my cheeks.

She stopped directly in front of me and looked up with the greatest smile I had ever seen. A smile that opened a new world, a fresh start.

"Hi Daddy," she said and my heart exploded like fireworks spiraling into the valley. I knelt in front of her.

"It's the greatest moment of my life meeting you," which made her smile even wider. I hadn't known of her, but Ash had made sure she knew of me.

Ash then slid to my side and put her hand in mine. "This is your Emily." She whispered in my ear and then I took Emily's hand with my other hand and the three of us began to walk toward the A-frame, and I could remember every step, the sound of our feet against the gravel, the late fall breeze with a scent of winter. The sounds of the valley like a faraway band playing to our rhythm. I remembered it all because I knew what awaited inside and I wanted to capture the perfection of the moment. I think I squeezed their hands just to make sure they were real, or maybe to make sure that I was. I thanked God for the first time in a while. I knew I was supposed to be there, I always was.

Once inside I allowed myself a breath of reality. We walked into a large living room area. The house was rustic, but with a woman's comforting touch. There were no signs of a man in the residence, and that brought a smile to my face. In the center of the large room sat a large L-shaped couch that was tan and very cushy as if made from the same material as clouds. Straight ahead of it against the wooden wall was a large TV that sat on a glass center with two doors where inside electronic devices sat. The other wall that faced the west was one large series of book shelves. They were filled with tightly fitted books from paperback to hardcover. Ash had always loved to read, as did I at one point, but recently I had preferred the bottle to any book. A short corridor lead to a bright and large kitchen with an island in its center. Two bar stools lined up in front of it. Before the kitchen in the corridor was a spiral staircase that lead to a large loft that looked down upon us. In the center of its ceiling was a large glass window. I imagined laying in the bed with my girls, searching the stars, and maybe even heaven.

"Emily, go play for a while, we need to talk," said Ash in her mommy voice. Emily looked to complain but thought better and just smiled at me and then turned and ran off to wherever play land was. I didn't want her to go, too many lost moments had already passed.

"I am sorry to have hid her from you. I knew it was wrong but I didn't want you to give up your calling."

I grew angry at her saying that. "So why tell me now?" I snapped. I immediately stopped myself and gave her a reassuring smile. The truth was I was so elated I didn't care about the past.

"There is something wrong with Emily."

There it was. The news that had haunted me since I picked up the phone. The too good to be true cliché that hovered over me like a dark cloud the whole trip up there. "Is she sick?" My voice was cracking and my soul was ready to die.

"Yes, but not how you think." Her eyes dropped to the floor as if embarrassed at what she was about to tell me. "She was bitten by something. At first I didn't know what it was, I do now."

I was clueless to where she was going with this. "A rabid animal?" I asked trying to help her along.

"Would you like a drink?' She asked as she made her way into the kitchen obviously to make herself one.

"Please." A drink felt like exactly what I needed. As she fumbled with the ice in the kitchen, I took a second to take a deep breath. I sat down on the couch and sunk into its exaggerated puff of clouds. Ash came in a moment later with two drinks in her hand; one was already half gone. She came over and sat a few feet to the left of me and handed me mine. I took a big gulp, it was whiskey, and strong; a drink with a purpose.

"Rabid would have been better." She fumbled with her glass which was now empty. "She was bitten by a werewolf." It came out of her mouth in a whisper as if she was saying it out loud for the first time. My reaction was to laugh and I did loudly. She gave me a look that quickly made me stop. I realized she was serious and I feared for her mental health. I felt awkward and had no idea what to say. "I know it sounds crazy but it is the truth. Tomorrow is a full moon; you can see for yourself," she said in a stern voice.

The Ash that I had loved my whole life had gone mad and she was raising my daughter. My mind was flipping through all the options but I knew there was only one; to stay with her and work it out together. The problem was I wasn't sure how sane I was, I had fled the church and had been living on whiskey and regret.

She was now staring at me with fear in her eyes and such a determination that I knew she believed every word of it. There was an explanation for her belief and I would find it out but until then I just scooted over to her and kissed her on the cheek and told her it would be ok. Whatever ledge she had walked off, I was willing to dive off to find her and bring her back, even from the pits of hell, which is exactly what it would end up being.

I was startled by movement not too far from our tree. Viv slept gently at my side, and the savages had long retreated for the night. I knew it was our follower and it was the closest he had ever gotten. I rolled out and into the chilled darkness. He stood fifty feet away in a small clearing from the heavy forest, allowing the partial moon to shine down on him as if he were on stage. My blade was firmly in my hand.

"What do you want?" I spoke lowly, but knew, somehow, he could hear. He wore a long coat of leather and a top hat that looked comical in the moonlight. I couldn't see his face but I knew he was smiling.

"Just passing through," was his response and he said it so nonchalantly that I almost believed him. He then turned directly toward me and I could feel his eyes even though I couldn't see them. They burned through me as if looking at my soul, or something else.

"They will send their best to challenge you. You are magic to them now. Such simple folk." He spoke as if he was thinking out loud. I knew what he said was correct, but didn't answer. After an awkward pause I asked who he was, although somewhere deep inside where his eyes had traveled I knew the answer.

"Somebody that finds you interesting." He replied as he lit up a pipe or a cigar. The smoke hovered over his head as if he controlled it.

"There is nothing interesting about me. You should be on your way," I said unconvincingly.

He let out a small laugh. "But you are, especially this close to the moon," he said, and once again I could sense his smile and I exposed my blade.

"Be careful or I will add you to my list of those who got in my way," I growled.

"I do not want to get in your way. I want to help you." His voice became calm, soothing, and I let the blade drop to my side.

"Nobody can help me."

"She has."

"You do not talk of her." I hissed and once again pulled up my blade.

"I mean her no harm. If I did she would have been dead already. The both of you would."

"You're a fool to underestimate me," I said in a mocking tone. I was getting tired of the conversation. I wanted answers or a fight. "No more games! Tell me who you are and your business with me."

He took a toke of his pipe as I made my way closer. Once again, the smoke danced around him and for a moment it looked to take the shape of a serpent, its momentary fangs ascending into the night. "I have been called many things over time, but the one I go by most is The General."

At that I laughed. "Is there an army waiting in the woods?"

"No. I keep them much closer." And as he said it something started to move under his long jacket. Whatever was underneath wanted to come out and I knew that this opponent was unlike any I had ever faced. Suddenly the movement stopped. "That is all for now. Daylight is coming and you need to focus on your challenge," he said as he faded into the thick darkness until he was gone leaving only a small circle of smoke that danced until it, too, disappeared.

With such little time before sunrise, I needed to find some food. I quickly searched the area before returning with multiple edible plants and nuts. Viv was tossing and turning as I crawled back under the tree. A stream of light landing right above her head from a hole the size of a baseball. Her green eyes opened, they looked puffy and somewhat sunken. Too much worry for such a young being. I quickly handed her over the breakfast I had prepared. At first, she looked uninterested, but after seeing the look I was giving her, she gave in and began eating the greens. I promised her a hot meal before long, which seemed to encourage her slightly.

"What about the savages?" She asked as I packed our things. She had done an excellent job the previous evening of getting us to safety, along with not leaving anything valuable behind.

"Thanks to you we are still alive to face the new day. The savages will come at us one at a time. They will send their best champions to face me. If I am defeated, there is something you must do." I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small leather pouch. "Take this; inside is a pill that you will swallow with some water. It is painless and works quickly."

She just stared at me and it made me hate myself for having to put this out there; I hated the world that would allow such a thing, I hated a heaven that would not send all its angels to prevent it. "If they capture you they will torture you until you die, or worse, they will let you live as their slave and they will use your body in horrible ways until it withers away long after your soul has gone."

I didn't want to be so blunt but I needed her to be afraid. She took the pouch and nodded her head.

We were back on the road shortly after. The sun was out but so was a chilled wind that tore through our clothes into the core of our bones. I walked with my blade out with my eyes doing a continuous full circle. My senses were becoming so strong that it was hard for me to judge what I was feeling. I could hear a deer rambling through the fallen trees miles away along with other creatures scrambling in their world. It was confusing and a bit much for my mind; I felt discombobulated. In the past, I would try to close everything out with meditation, but that was not an option.

I was relieved when, a few hours into our travel, the first challenge appeared. He stood a quarter mile up the road as still as a statue. I could hear his heartbeat; calm and steady. I could also sense an unseen audience hiding in the tall dead grass or just beyond the colorful tree line, their breath fueled with anticipation. My opponent did not move as I continued down our path. Viv was silent but she softly tugged on my arm, I signaled to her it was all right with a simple hand gesture. My own adrenaline was reaching new heights. I couldn't remember a moment when a battle meant so much, when so much was on the line.

I stood fifty yards from my opponent when I stopped and kneeled in front of Viv. Her face was the color of the gravel at our feet, her eyes bulging and screaming with the fear of the unknown. So many questions in those eyes, the questions of all the souls I had ignored during my selfish steps. "If I lose, you know what to do. Do it quickly," I said to her and gently wiped a lone tear from her cheek, life only allows you so many tears and my Viv had almost spent hers at such an early age.

I then turned to my opponent. He stood at least a foot taller than I and outweighed me like a man to a boy. His shirtless body was covered in ink and scars that mapped his abnormally large muscles. His light hair sat on his head in patches with certain strands standing up with the fall breeze. His face was covered with a mask that at one time was a clown but its colors had bled into a morbid blend. In both hands, he held a long knife that curled into a half moon like something a pirate would have. He wore no pants other than a sports cup that barely held his bulge. His boots rode up his ankles and blended with the broken road.

He let out some odd war cry that echoed from the forest and whatever posse he belonged to. His charge was quicker than I would expect from such a large man, and it threw me off as I was a little slow in getting out of the way of his initial blows. I blocked his knife with my blade but took on the force of it which nearly sent me sprawling to the ground. His second swing from his other knife sliced through my leather jacket. I kicked his right leg on the side of the knee which made him buckle a bit and allowed me to leap over him and slide down his back and sink my blade into his spine. It was a death blow, but once again, I underestimated my opponent. Instead of giving in to the afterlife that awaited, he fought on, swinging his mighty forearm into my jaw and sending me sprawling, with a roar from the crowd in the forest. With my blade still stuck in his back, I lay there defenseless with the giant standing over me; his blood raining on me like a waterfall. In seconds, he would bleed out, but he was determined to finish me off, to hear the cheers of his comrades as he passed into the next life. I quickly jumped up, dodged his lumbering blow, slid behind him and grabbed the handle of my blade which was still stuck in his back, and I sliced upward, filleting the giant who fell to a heap of gore at my feet.

There was suddenly a silence that came from the trees; it was eerie, and I quickly turned to Viv, who had not turned away but instead stared at me with an intensity that said she had seen it all. In her hand was the small leather pouch. I took a brief period to clean up the blood that was on me. There was only so much I could do without using up our water supply. I grabbed her hand, feeling crazed and looking like I was just born out of hell. We continued our journey surrounded by held breaths and looming eyes and a legend that was growing with every step.

The farther east we went the chillier it became; winter not being too far off didn't help. All the green had left in favor of the end-of-the-year brown. The trees still held their many colors but were looking barer. I wondered if we would see the next season of green; I had never cared about it before. I was starting to again.

At lunch, we stopped and ate at a large boulder that sat in the field five hundred feet from the road. I made a fire and cooked a rabbit I had stored. I could sense that our audience had returned, which meant my next challenge would not be too far off. I tried to keep Viv's mind off it by asking her about the stories she loved. I knew the events were really wearing on her. Seeing me take on the giant must have scared her shitless. I also noticed she kept the pouch close by, which was a relief, knowing that she would be able to do it when it came to it. By the end of lunch, we were laughing and with our bellies full of meat we were okay to move on. Another sad thing about the world was you never got better than okay. I grabbed her small hand and we made our way back to the road with a hundred hidden eyes watching from somewhere behind, an old town in the distance ahead which was no more than a graveyard of dust and steel, a partial sun above for some warmth, and of course a bad moon lurking.

I sang Viv a favorite song of mine, "Here Comes The Sun", from the Beatles. She told me she heard of them from her mother but never knew any of their songs. After my first time through the song and absolutely hacking it she sang along with a voice so pure and angelic I had to stop for a moment and take it in. Why was this beautiful creature at my side? Why was I on an eastern path when I had sworn never to do so? Why was my heart once again beating after being silent for so long? All these questions racing through my mind as her voice echoed through the silence like a knife through butter. Was she healing the whole land along with myself? Was her voice the antidote to this dying world? I listened to her sing the song repeatedly as we approached the small town I had seen in the distance. It must have been an old rest stop, because it sat so close to the road, only a half mile to the south. Viv stared at it as her singing voice lowered into a hum. I noticed her eyes widen as we approached the small town.

My next challenge stood there in front of the closest building, which looked to be a shell of a former gas station; only the bleeding brick was intact. There were two of them. They stood motionless side by side, their long black hair the only detail I could make out at the distance.

This time the audience didn't hide in the shadows; they stepped outside from the other buildings, which were painted with graffiti. Two dozen of them at least, standing motionless with bandaged clothes, beggars for bloodshed. It felt wrong, after hearing her sing, to walk into battle, or maybe it felt right. Maybe it was the only reason to walk into battle; so the beautiful creatures could sing. Yes, that is why us ugly monsters walked into battle.

As I walked across the brown stale field toward my enemy I thought of the savages in the distance. They looked like otherworldly clowns with weapons and shortage of brain cells, yet they stood together in the badlands with no protection of walls or phony politics to tell them they are human. Didn't I live under the same rules? Didn't I live off the same lands? Wasn't I just as savage?

As we continued to walk toward our awaiting opponents, a large dark cloud appeared overhead and engulfed the small sun. Everything turned grey and the air became damp. The rain started a moment later, random drops that increased to a steady fall by the time we reached the savages. The two challengers stood as tall and motionless as statues, they looked no older than early twenties, and probably brothers. There was no emotion in their eyes, only the stare of duty. I pitied their fate, but knew that even death was better to them than cowardice. Their tribe stood 100 feet from the champions, a distant portrait of painted faces and masks that was even more eerie due to the silence.

We stood in what was once a small parking lot to a gas station. The pumps had been torn out for probably decades, leaving only indents of the holes they left, now covered with earth. The building was only a skeleton of brick. The windows were completely gone and the roof was only strands of molded wood. Down the remains of what was once the main road stood other buildings, half a McDonalds sign stood high above yet another brick skeleton of a building. I Imagined taking Viv there for a Big Mac and fries. I looked down at her; she was looking up at me and squeezing my hand. I think we both realized there would never be a proper goodbye.

My two opponents, who both carried blades as big as mine, began to circle around me chanting something in their native tongue. Viv had run off to the side; the leather pouch in her hand. I tried to reassure her with a look, but I was struggling with the evil in me. It was coming to the surface; I could feel it under my skin screaming to come out. It was too close to the moon, and I had less and less control besides feeding it daily. The bloodshed that was saving us would probably be our demise. Then, on the horizon, something very familiar lurked and I swore I could see a cloud of smoke dancing as I let go into the soothing darkness.

I awoke to Viv's screams. I lay above a puddle of gore and innards. The tribe was gone and I thought I caught a glimpse of them in the far distance back by the road, but on second glance they were gone. Only a screaming, soaked Viv was before me. The rain was coming down hard and a small pond of red was building around me. I couldn't remember what happened but knew I had let in the evil inside me. Let it rule the hour. Let it destroy my poor Viv. I ran to her and picked her up; she shivered on the brink of convulsions. The rain would not be letting up; the sky was angry, just like the rest of the world.

I needed to get her to shelter and allow her to rest. Our traveling was done for the day, we were falling behind schedule, but it barely mattered. Making it to York seemed the least of our problems after the massacre that just took place. Soon word would spread of the evil I carried (and to think, they only caught a glimpse) and they would approach us differently. They would not send their champions because now they considered it an unfair fight, and they would surely want to even the odds.

I took her to the old McDonalds building. Inside it stunk of mold and worse and was full of rats, but at least it was dry. I looked out the large empty windows to see if we were being followed. I didn't see anyone, so I turned to Viv who looked to be going into shock. I quickly pulled out a blanket from my bag and wrapped her tightly after helping her out of her clothes. I frantically searched for anything to start a fire. I returned with scraps of wood from a table and some picture frames that had hung on the wall. Happy pictures from a time when they were allowed; now they were covered with mold and ash like all remaining things.

I had a small fire going in no time, and it seemed to brighten her mood a bit as the smoke made its way to the large hole in the roof where the rain flowed in, making melancholic music. Soon the shaking had stopped and her eyes had regained some of their normal color. She also seemed to be breathing more normally, where before, she had developed a wheeze. I felt terrible about what had happened, what was happening, but we were alive.

There was something I knew the first time I saw her. I knew then that this moment would arrive when stories and smiles and flashes of hope would be washed away by what was to come, what always comes.

I reached out and took her small hand as a large round of thunder shook overhead like the swears of a drunken father. "My name is Peter, and once upon a time I was a priest," I said, as if not just to her but to myself and to everything else that wanted to hear. She looked at me with a half-smile as if she had discovered something that made her proud.

"My mom told me about priests and how our world needed them. Was she right?" She then laid down with her head on my lap and went to sleep carrying that same smile. I listened to the rain and wondered why our small section of roof had lasted, but what I was really doing was avoiding going into that last memory, the one I had avoided for all these years.

Ash went on for an hour about werewolf lore. Most of it seemed like Van Helsing wannabes trying to create a myth. As I listened to her talk in a serious tone, I felt as if I was sinking into a place where the only outcome was someone close to me ending up in a place where I could not be. My new family was falling into a pit of unreality that you always felt was close, but you knew enough to stay away from the edge. The only time you would go near that edge is if it were to drag a loved one out of the dark hole. I was going to the edge for the only people I loved.

Ash's words seemed to drown out, like a sad song playing in the far distance, where you couldn't make out the words but knew it was sad because its melody touched something deep inside.

I thought of our daughter playing off somewhere with only little girl worries and eyes big enough for the gigantic world that laid out before her like a red carpet. I wondered when the last time was that I had truly prayed. I had become a priest who didn't pray. A priest who every night ended up on the floor with a head of whiskey and a heart of pity.

I prayed that day in the living room of the woman I loved with the scent of my newfound daughter still lingering on my clothes like a bouquet of flowers. I prayed to God to give me the strength to remove this burden that they both carried no matter how real it was, it was real enough to destroy them; that I could tell. Yes, I prayed with all my heart as my Ash continued to talk of the devil. Yes, I have had my doubts of God at times, but I never doubted his opposite; who I had seen in every corner of my passage. I had seen him in the faces of children, adults and even priests. I had sensed him inside rooms of such foulness that only he could have decorated them, only he could have been the architect. Though the real reason I knew he was real was because I had seen him in myself looking back at me through a broken mirror, where my eyes were like mirrors into the pits of hell. That's why on that day I did not believe in a werewolf, but I knew something worse did exist, and it was there with us. There with the ones I love.

When my daughter returned to the room it was a mix of relief and sadness. Sad that any of this was surrounding her, whether it was a touch of insanity that had made its way into the only woman I have ever loved, or something else. Relief, because her entering the room seemed to lift the heaviness that was starting to suffocate me; such a burden for a child. How long had she carried it with her mother?

It was dinner time, and we decided to go into town and eat at the small diner. At first, Ash resisted, but I convinced her it would be good for everyone and it didn't hurt that our daughter's excitement radiated throughout the house. The thought that I was a father was hard to grasp; it was partly like the euphoria you feel after a long run and partly the three o'clock in the morning anxiety you wake up to where your heart and mind move at a metahuman pace.

We arrived at the diner as the sun had permanently faded for the day, and a true rush of fall chill attacked us as we got out of the Bronco. I knew I would have to call the church in the morning. Explain that I would not be coming back; I would also have to explain it to God, a conversation that made me a little uneasy.

The diner was a small storefront that overlooked its main street and the tavern across the way which seemed to be getting busy, its front door on a revolving wheel exposing its dark murky interior and thick cloud of smoke. They had banned smoking from bars, but that law didn't abide here, and I had a feeling that not many laws abided inside that door. The diner only had eight tables and one waitress. She seemed to be in her early twenties and she bounced around showing a permanent smile and eyes that looked too tired. Strands of her brown hair fell upon her face as she stood before us. She blew them away while keeping her smile. There were two other tables filled, a family of four and an elderly couple. The family sat two tables over from us with the parents looking stressed, trying to control two boys, with the older being around ten and the younger one a few years behind. They jabbed at each other from under the table. The elderly couple sat back in the corner sipping on coffee and staring our way. The three of us ordered burgers and fries and shortly after, the waitress appeared from swinging doors in the back with our food. It was a quiet dinner.

On the way home, the night was in full swing, and the moon looked almost full. I noticed our daughter growing restless in the back. Her face seemed tense and she was scratching her arms as if itchy. Ash was no less restless in the seat next to me. She was forcing herself into a deep breathing regimen. I thought of saying something, but decided against it. There was a true eeriness in that car that made me uncomfortable, and I didn't want to look back when I heard a growl come from the back seat. I did notice that Ash was staring at me with tears in her eyes as if apologizing. I did look back and saw our daughter now curled up in a ball and scratching the top of her head. She peeked up at me with eyes that weren't her own; eyes as red and as old as the devil. She whispered, "I am sorry, Daddy," with the same voice as my girl but only drowning as if her whisper was a scream. I looked over at Ash and with my eyes told her I was ready to be serious about this. She grabbed my hand and squeezed and I stared off into the moon which seemed to be staring back. It was as if it was welcoming me into its power and I knew then that I would always be looking up at it.

I knew he was there as he brought with him a breeze that was a blend of sweet and death. Viv laid asleep next to the fading fire. I stood up and faced The General who stood in the open doorway, a partial moon illuminating the sky to his back. He wore the same top hat that seemed obscenely large this close, and he also wore the same long coat that reached the broken tile floor. I remembered my father, for some odd reason. Maybe it was the way he engulfed a doorway, maybe it was the mystery that lay hidden under his leather skin, a mystery too complex for a boy to solve, or possibly it was just allowing a man that close; allowing a voice so familiar.

"Well done today," he said, as he tilted his head to light the pipe. The sweet tobacco quickly filled the room. It reminded me of a distant uncle when I was a boy. The sweet smell always meant laughter, especially from my father. The uncle and the pipe never came around much after my father passed. Why was I caught up in nostalgia? It was like the levee had broken and I was suddenly a river of memories.

"How so? I butchered two men in front of the girl." A soft rain began to tickle the roof and fall through where the roof had disappeared.

"You let it save you; save her!" his voice was like a whisper from every corner of the dingy building. A whisper from every path I had taken as The Traveler; a whisper from every moon that had brought me closer to hell.

"You speak as if I control it. Which makes you more of a fool than I figured." I realized I was starting a fight. It made my skin burn with desire allowing the deep hunger to surface. I quickly focused on Viv, her breathing a calming hymn.

"You are the fool! You carry a great honor, and yet you travel lonely forgotten roads pitying yourself. You can control it. There is only one Alpha." The smoke from his pipe dancing like a snake overhead as if praying to the moon.

"Fuck You!" I screamed, which made Viv roll over, luckily not waking. "Let's step outside and get this over with." I said it under control, but the anger remained.

He laughed in a way that seemed to come from multiple voices that danced around the room with the smoke from his pipe. "I am not here to fight you. I am here to help you," he said, as his voice took on a hiss that seemed to continue after his sentence was done. His Jacket also seemed to be moving like the night in the woods. Whatever was underneath wanted to come out, and The General seemed to be struggling with it. He even stuck his face inside and whispered something. I let out a small chuckle thinking even in a world full of weirdness, including myself, this stranger appears and takes the cake.

"There is no helping me, just the girl. That's all that matters to me." I stared down at her, she had gotten back into her perfect rhythm of sleep.

"I will assure her safety into York, but the price is, afterwards you come with me." His voice had risen above the surrounding whisper, it now spoke directly into my ear with a confidence and a victory smile. I didn't have an answer, all I had was silence that seemed to weigh the broken room down and even the rain stopped, so only my silence filled the room. "Think about it. I will need an answer by nightfall. Hope you survive until then." His last words lingered even though he had disappeared. The last bit of his pipe smoke hovered for a moment before dancing into the darkness outside the room. I stood there in silence for a few more minutes like a statue of a thinking man. Sunrise was coming shortly and I began to prepare a breakfast. Food was low and we would need to gather some on the day's travels.

We ate our limited breakfast in silence. I could see in her hollow eyes that she was tired. Too much travel and death for one so young. It saddened me knowing that the next few days would be the worst. Would she even survive it? Would I carry a dead girl over the city line? Would they even allow me in? Wasn't I just a freak like the other outsiders? I thought of The General's offer. Could it be the only way? How could I trust something so vile, something that reeked of more death than I had seen? I had to decide, because the moon would be full soon. According to my device I had only two days, the third would bring the full moon. According to my calculation it would be on that third day when we entered York. I would be far from myself and could not be trusted. I ran my hand through her soiled hair and then lifted her chin. She looked older, her innocence was fading; the world had no right to take such a thing.

Outside it was damp and chilled but the rain had gone. In the distant sky the clouds were being devoured by a peeking sun. My senses knew the savages were close, they would mock every one of our steps before jumping out of the shadows. It made me angry and that was the last thing anyone wanted.

I could see that Viv's steps were labored. Soon I would offer to carry her, but not until she absolutely needed it. No sense in hurting her pride yet. With the town almost out of sight behind us and being back on the road, I was filled with a small surge of hope. Maybe it was the strong sun that morning drying up the damp chill that lingered in our bones, or maybe the failed city in the far distance that seemed to rise into the dispersing fog. One thing was sure: we were close; I could see it in her eyes that she felt the same. She had gotten farther then probably she ever dreamed, after the night she was left in the dark hole surrounded by the gore of her protectors. I had already figured out who was responsible, I had known since the night in the forest when I had first seen the dancing pipe smoke and the wrestling under the coat. I knew it was our stranger who called himself The General who was responsible. I also knew that a creature like him would not have missed the girl. He had left her alive for a reason, possibly that I would find her and eventually be in his debt.

As it grew closer to lunch I knew I would have to hunt something down. She needed the protein and the rest. I found a nice clearing just off the road. I made her a bed out of my extra clothes on top of the brown grass and left her with some nuts and water. Fifty yards away the forest was thick and the ocean lingered in the air like a salty sweet. I thought of bringing her to the beach and forgetting all this nonsense for a while. To see her walk along the sand in front of the restless blue sea that would bow to her beauty and absorb her purity and begin to heal the world. Yes, I could follow the breeze to the shores I knew as a kid, and be baptized in youthful dreams of summer. Instead I wiped a tear that strolled down my cheek, and I pulled out my blade.

Leaving her alone made me restless, but I knew I had cast a spell over the savages and they wouldn't touch her. Also, to them, she was probably a queen of magic; the one who controlled the beast. It made me think she would have a chance with them if I fell. She could rule the badlands and sit on a throne of rusted metal risen above human bones. No, death was a better sentence. I couldn't bear in the afterworld knowing she had been tainted. I would make the deal first.

I returned within a half hour with two squirrels that I had pegged with a boomerang from a large tree. I found Viv sleeping on the bed I had made. The sun was in full strength casting shadows along the tree line. I started a fire and decided not to wake her. She did awake shortly after with the smell of cooking meat. Her eyes were excited with hunger and it made me happy to see them filled with something other than despair. What was going on in her young brain? What did she see when she looked at me? Was it the monster that crawled out of my skin moment by moment as the moon approached? Was it a savior that her fairy tales read? Was it just a man who's soul had been devoured by all that he has seen, all that he has done?

I barely ate as I let her devour practically the whole lunch. I gave her a few minutes to digest, but then it was back to the road. She seemed to have a little more spunk in her step, but she walked with a fragility that had grown on her like a fungus. There was no cure for it, of that I was sure. It was the death sentence that we all had received. It just looked more unnatural on her.

With every step, with every song that she hummed, I wondered when the next attack would come. We were walking right through the mainlands. The fallen city in the approaching horizon, where their large hives resided, seemed as melancholy as the road we traveled. The distant forest hills, where surely their eyes watched, were as quiet as any ghost town I had been to. If it were the calm before the storm, then the storm would be magnificent. We were being stoned with anxiety and the fact of not knowing. Is she on the same verge of madness as myself? I squeezed her shoulder and smiled down on her as she looked up with that smile that defied all that laid ahead. She wasn't going mad like myself; her world was built on a stronger foundation, one of hope.

We passed the body of a savage on the side of the road. In another life I would have shielded her eyes but there was no need for that on the road we were on. The road was paved with blood that soaked into the stones that were once tampered for the smooth black oil that hummed with motors as people traveled to places they had read about, or dreamed, or saw in a movie. The road was freedom, the road was therapy, the road was life. Now the road was just a path to which side of the world your suffering would be. How many roads had I seen? How many corpses like the savage before us had littered the gutters of America that was once safe so many lifetimes ago? I guess the end was always in sight, just over the horizon, like the dead city we approached; our eyes could see it but instead we focused on the past or future, or above.

Vultures circled not far above. Was there any creature who was more well fed? I myself felt hungry but not for food. My hunger went much deeper than my stomach, it was a hunger that could never be fed, never be satisfied unless it ran wild under the moon leaving yet more blood to soak into the roads of travelers past.

I knew then that our next encounter would be in the city. It allowed me to feel a moment of relief. We were walking toward our possible doom, but weren't we doing that the moment we headed East, the moment we were born, the moment we felt love, the moment her lips touched my cheeks so long ago when worry was a shallow wind, and not the very air that we now breathe?

I took her hand and started to skip, kicking up pebbles and dust. Viv laughed and cheered and sang a song that I had never heard, about a bird flying to heaven. The song cheered my soul but I knew it was a sad song, like all the good ones. We continued to skip and she continued to sing, and I laughed and smiled and listened and cried. She looked up at me and ordered me to lean over and when I did she wiped my tears and smiled, and her hair was golden in the sun. "It's okay Peter. You're a good one," she said, and then turned back to her skipping and singing until it turned into a hum. As we walked at a fast pace, faster than our average, I fought the hunger inside. It wanted out more than it had ever before. It would always be hard before the moon but this was different. I was changing, and I knew it had something to do with her. I wondered where The General was? How far behind did he follow? I could no longer find his scent due to the overwhelming blur of aromas that filled my nostrils. I could smell the rain from the day before, mixed with trees with dying branches and litters of animals and, of course, the ocean, which was far off in another direction but still lingered in a distant breeze, filling my mind with hope of something better. I could also smell the river which lay ahead; crossing it would mean making it to our destination, and Viv would be safe. It was that scent that disturbed me because although it was close, it was the farthest thing away; so far it might as well be a fairytale, the end of the rainbow.

We would reach the city at dusk, and I knew there was a great chance we would not see the next sun. I decided to enjoy every second of our final stretch even though my feet were starting to blister, which made me wonder about the shape of poor Viv's. How much pain was she in? How had she made it this far? How could one so young survive so much pain? Maybe we were destined to make it. Maybe there was a shred of hope, even though the heavens above had closed their window to our world. Left us in the hands of broken humanity and other monsters.

I asked her to keep singing, and then she took my hand and began to skip again. She sang a song from my childhood, "The Yellow Submarine." How did she know it? It didn't matter, it was nice to hear. Her voice echoed down into the vacant valley, traveling to a past that was locked away through all the layers of nothing that had engulfed our planet. It took me to my father's lap as a young boy, and him playing the Beatles record. His voice was so strong and the only sound that was a perfect rhythm to my ears. He was a magical being in a boy's magical mind, and that made him the greatest human of all time. His everlasting impression was through eyes of a son looking at a father without life's realities to poison the pure beauty of it. I wondered what he would think of the man I had become.

I was growing weak in the knees from the flood of emotions I had abandoned for so long. Too much to bear for a single soul. It felt as if my heart was a waterfall that was drowning the rest of me. I looked to Viv, knowing only she could keep me above water. She was still skipping and singing and smiling and living. It made me realize that I needed to go back to those decisive moments, before we reached our fate. I owed it to the beautiful little angel at my side to be clear of all the heaviness that I had carried for oh so long. I couldn't remember when I walked like a man or thought like a human soul. I had walked with the chains of the monster inside me, and the ones from my past that had grown like dragons hid away guarding the treasures of life itself. No--I needed to live on this final stretch. I owed it to her, I owed it to them, my loves who would be waiting for me on the other side, and they needed me to walk to them a man, not a monster. I let Viv guide me with her hand as I allowed myself to go back to the memory that changed everything.

I stood in the room in the basement where she was kept on the night of the moon. She was chained by the arms and feet and it had taken both of us to get her there. I wondered how Ash had done it in the past by herself. Had she had to do it a day before? The thought was too much to bear. I now understood her desperation and frantic behavior. I was impressed she had held up so well. She had always been so strong, so much stronger than myself. I also saw it in our beautiful daughter who growled and screamed at me from across the masonry room. Even in this horrible state, I saw the strength in her eyes. It was a blend of Ash and my father, the two strongest people I had ever known. I had sent Ash away, which she fought for a long time, but I convinced her that this night it was my turn to endure her nightmare. When she finally left us, and went upstairs, her shoulders slouched and her head dropped. I wondered how long it had been since she had relaxed.

As night fell and the moon grew full I watched as my daughter began to transform into something else. She began to literally grow to the point where she was looking down at me, long dark animal hair sprouted from all over her body. Her jawline stretched and her teeth grew large and pointed. She no longer cried, that job was mine; only gargled growls came from her once beautiful mouth. I fell to my knees and cried like a child. I hated myself for not being there from the beginning, I hated myself for standing in front of a church when hell had invaded my gene pool. That moment, I truly prayed, for the first time since my father had died. All those years in the priesthood and it took standing before the Devil to make me say a sincere prayer. I asked the Lord to save my baby girl, I asked him to allow me to take her burden.

I continued to pray as the monster fought the chains. It attacked the block walls which seemed to shake the whole house. This went on for hours, me praying, and the creature frantically trying to escape. As the night wore on it occurred to me what had to be done. I stood up from my prayers and wiped the tears and then walked toward my daughter until I was in reach of her clawed grasp. She picked me off the floor like I was a doll, her foul breath and saliva flooding my face. I stared into its eyes in search of her, and thought I caught a glimpse of the little girl so eager to play the day before. In those eyes, I thought there were tears, tears for what it was about to do, or for help, or maybe both. It didn't matter, because I was ready to accept whatever fate was coming my way, and I knew I would never be able to walk in this world again knowing my daughter was in such a hell. As she bit into my shoulder with fangs like long knives, I thought of my father and him smiling at me in church and telling me why men become priests, his strong hand on my shoulder, his smile small but broad. I thought of a young Ash by the river, with the small breeze allowing me to inhale her, with our hands barely touching and our words intertwined with laughter and tears that were swallowed by the water that rested below our feet.

As soon as her fangs broke my skin, she dropped me to the ground. I hit the concrete hard and I was a bit woozy from the blood flowing out of me, but everything was fine because I knew she was ok. I knew it because I felt the monster that she had become inside of me clawing at my soul. My daughter had shrunk back into a little girl and sat in the corner crying. I felt an overwhelming joy, and then I screamed for Ash and then passed out.

I awoke sometime in the morning in Ash's bed. The sun shone into her large window, which was partially open, letting in a late fall breeze and the fresh smell only it could bring. I was naked other than underwear and the large bandage on my shoulder. Ash didn't seem to be in the room, but her scent lingered, the sweet perfume filling my lungs with life. I remembered the night before and our daughter hovered in the corner after the evil had left her and entered me. I could sense it somewhere deep inside, dormant for the time being, but there was no doubt it would eventually come out. How long till the next moon? I knew I would be far gone by that time. It saddened me to leave them, more than my heart could think to bear, but it was part of the sacrifice. To save them I would have to lose them.

Ash came into the room looking as beautiful as I remembered her in my dreams. The strain that she had worn the day before was no longer there, there was a sadness in her eyes that was for me, and she tried to hide it, but it's true, the eyes never lie. "How is she?" I asked with a dry mouth. She handed me a cup of coffee from the tray she brought in. My shoulder hurt when I reached for it. She sat on the corner of the bed next to me and I inhaled the aroma, a blend of her and rich coffee.

"She is still asleep but she is fine." The tears began to roll down her face. "I am sorry, it's just that I am so happy and sad for what you did." I pulled her toward me, and her thick full hair fell onto my chest. "Don't be sad, our daughter is safe."

I could feel her lips on my chest, sending sensations through me that I had also only dreamed of for so long. When her lips finally reach mine, the kiss was even more moist from both our tears. Tears filled with a decade of emotions and restraints and prisons and hells and glimpses of heaven.

We made love for the rest of the morning and our souls screamed with pleasure that only our ears could place. It was a hello, a goodbye, and a release of all the wound-up desires of two soulmates on different ends of the world meeting at a crossroads where each will choose a separate path, not because of choice, but instead for love, a true love that is as rare as heaven itself.

It was early afternoon when I was finally dressed, and though my wound reminded me of my new fate, I was still able to enjoy the afternoon with my two ladies. Ash and I sat on the back deck looking down into the winding valley. Directly below us she played in the small fenced-in yard. Her pink sweater danced around like a rogue flower blowing in the steady breeze. "I made love with a priest," says Ash in her goofing voice.

"I was no longer a priest as soon as I picked up the phone. Probably long before then," I replied with a wink. Our hands were entangled, and although I could feel the tension that we both had from my new fate, we were at least a bit happy. The odd thing was that I knew I would never be able to pass it along, like my daughter had to me; I knew it would always be my fate, always my burden. It rested in my soul too comfortably, and I knew that alone would torment me for the rest of my days.

It would be about a month before the next full moon, and I would be gone long before then. Although Ash begged for me to stay and seek help together, that could never be an option. I would go as far away from them as possible; this evil had been with them too long. I left early one morning as they both slept. There was a soft rain to match my tears as I descended the mountain. I would drive practically for a week straight before settling in a high elevation out west. From a nice Indian I would stay in a small hunting cabin high in the mountains. I had no money to pay him other than the church vehicle, which he accepted, but explained he would return it when I had found my peace.

I never contacted the church again, nor Ash and my daughter. The next moon, I awoke naked in the snow, snow that had turned red from the carcass of a deer that was at my side. I learned to hunt, and to survive the winter without coming back into civilization. I did it for years, and didn't even realize that the world had gone to war, had died from disease. It had started shortly after I took the cabin, which explained why I never saw anyone, not even the Indian who promised to stop in the spring. My desolation was a blanket from the destruction of our world. I had hidden in the mountains while everyone suffered. While my girls suffered.

When I returned to civilization there was none. Only empty roads surrounded by graveyards. At the time there was still plenty of gas and vehicles so I drove back to my family with the surrounding destruction a blur. I passed loners with confusion and despair, I passed signs of hope and refuge, but held by skeletons. Some helicopters passed overhead at times before disappearing into the big sky like a ship in an ocean. I saw families on the side holding hands and praying, I saw engineers and doctors drawing new cities, I saw preachers having revivals in empty parking lots, and politicians leading marches down dead end streets, but I never saw the only thing that mattered. I never saw them again.

"Mr. Peter." Her voice was like a distant whisper. It came from a distant valley that might as well been another world. I was locked in the place I had refused to go back to for so long. I was swirling in its powerful wave and being carried farther into the ocean. Viv's voice faded out like a last spark of a dying fire. I wasn't ready to return, no, not ready yet.

I made it to her house on the brink of an exhaustion fueled by pain and regret. I searched the A-frame from head to toe and found nothing. I wasn't the first to be there, as it looked as if it had been ransacked by others. Anything useful had been taken, and the animals had been left inside the kennels. Their corpses burned foul in the summer heat. I cried for hours before searching the rest of the town. The only survivors were people passing through with the look of gaining something. On any other day, they may have targeted me, but on those days the desperation in my eyes showed a wild animal, even beyond the one that slept in my soul.

For the next year, I searched the whole east coast as the world faded farther into despair. Survivors either organized or became mad and killed each other. Disease grew worse as doctors and supplies diminished. During the moon, I would change in those places I deemed worthless and I would awake drowned in their blood. I no longer prayed and eventually wandered back west and vowed never to return, knowing the despair and sadness were something I could never bear again.

Until now! Her voice once again returned, and it seemed to come from the sky from a forgotten heaven. I allowed myself to return to that sweet voice that had allowed me to feel again. I knew that voice was the most important thing left in this world, and must be protected at all cost. Then I opened my eyes.

We stood before the broken city with dusk approaching, and looming in the distance was the great bridge that would take us to our destination. We had made it, and did it before the moon would reach its full potential. Viv squeezed my hand and I took my eyes off the wall of savages that stood before us to look down at her. Her eyes were watered, but looked bigger than ever, and seemed to illuminate the grey that was engulfing us. She stared at me as if she had been in my latest memory, had seen my fall, and most importantly my rise. It seemed as if her victory was in my release, her destination was the road to my humanity. How could one so young be so selfless? How could one so young be content with the particles of life that floated blind to the surface, the things that made a whole, the things that made a soul?

I knelt to my new queen and kissed her small hand, and then rose and prepared to die for her. There were at least thirty warriors before us, with their kin and audience in the background peeking from behind the dying masonry of once-strong erect buildings. The city now blended with the incoming dusk, a shadow grey deprived of any colors of life. The buildings looked like checker boards from where windows once were. The disintegrating roads were like beds to metal skeletons. My eyes looked beyond the depressed novel of history past, and straight to the bridge that stood out like a long sea monster rising out of the smog of the great river.

"It looks like you can use a little help," said The General, as he stepped ten feet to my side. His top hat tilted forward and his cloak danced with excitement. It came as no surprise that he was there, and I left Viv for a moment and walked over to him. Whatever was hidden under his cloak seemed to become even more excited, and I could see the strain on his face to keep it at bay. His face was like no other I had ever seen, it seemed to be in a constant transformation between age and sex. The only constant was his eyes, which were blood red and seemed to go on forever like the longest highway, with the destination being obvious. He finally settled on a face that resembled my father, and I had to look away.

"Why did you let her live? Why massacre her protection and leave her to die?" I was not sure if I actually spoke it or thought it, but I was sure he heard it.

"I will not lie to you, I knew she would bring you to me." Being this close, his voice bounced in my head making me dizzy and nauseous.

"What do you want from me? I know there to be a price," I said, as I looked up at my father. It angered me that the devil, or something close to it, would dare to use him, but it was no longer about me, only Viv.

"I will help you get through, but there are two things I ask. One is you let the beast out, show it that you are the alpha, show it that you have control. Second, once the girl is across the bridge and safe, you return to me. Give me time to show you the possibilities."

I was not surprised at his answer, other than letting the beast out. It was something I never entertained nor thought possible. Following him was always the endgame, why would one go at such great lengths to shadow something? I knew I had no choice; if I refused, the savages would carve us up, and Viv would be lost to this forsaken world. I knew she needed to live even if I hadn't before. I knew there was no cost too great to make that happen. I nodded to The General and could swear I heard laughter from below, the pits of fire surely rejoiced. I walked back over to Viv and smiled and whispered everything was going to be okay, and her look said she believed me, but knew there was a price. Such a smart girl.

I told her to go back until she was at a safe distance, and not to take the pill, no matter what, because she needed to live. I watched her walk away with her head dropped and weighted from tears. Inside, the beast raged, and I looked over at The General who was taking off his cloak and unleashing what seemed like thousands of serpents extended from his skin. Their softball sized diamond shaped heads spat liquid and I felt like I was in some disturbing cartoon. The savages stood their ground, being freaks themselves, they feared no devil clown as they smashed their rusted weapons together making music that seemed to come straight from hell. The serpents seemed to be stretching farther as if sliding their way to the victims. I closed my eyes and reopened them inside my soul. I could see the beast staring back at me, its teeth long and pointed. I did not turn away, but instead stared harder. I let all the lifetimes of hate that I carried fuel my fury. It was the thought of my daughter that put me over the top and the beast put its head down, its pointed ears lowered. I was the Alpha, I knew it from a feeling that was alien to me. I opened my eyes and as the serpents attacked the brave but doomed savages, I let the beast out.

In the past, my changes were always an inhumane amount of pain and then blacking out until waking naked and doomed the following morning. This time was different. Although there was pain, I knew there would be no passing out. It was as if I was letting out a giant breath, I could feel myself growing, my bones stretching and my hands turning as large as baseball mitts. My vision seemed to reach way beyond the savages, and past the bridge into the city of York. I could hear voices from that far, whispers from different corners, laughs, cries, orgasms. I could smell the blood of the massacre The General was causing, his laughter seemed to be inside my head. I could smell my sweet Viv who hid behind a tree somewhere back from where we had come. I knew I wouldn't hurt her and it was the greatest relief I had ever felt. As soon as my transformation was complete I leapt at the savages landing twenty yards on my feet in the heart of them. I towered over their largest, and the strength inside me made it seem unfair. I took down two of them with one swipe of my mighty claw. I bit into another one who leaped at me, I shake him in my jaws, his body tearing from my teeth. The serpents are only feet away, stretching almost fifty yards from The General, who stands untouched, smoking his pipe. I feel sharp stings as daggers and blades enter me from different directions. It only makes me angrier as I tear into them.

No more than minutes and the massacre was done. I stood amongst the pile of bodies, with my own wounds that seemed to heal with every breath. The bystanders have long scattered, with looks on their faces that probably meant they will go into the hills and never return. The General was coiling his children in, a site even too grotesque for my eyes. I looked for Viv but could not see her, only hear her whimper. I closed my eyes and demanded the beast to return which it did with almost no fight, as my body began to shrink until I was once again a man with shredded clothes and painted in blood. My own wounds had all but healed. I walked past The General, who was all tidied up. "How does it feel to be the Alpha?" he said with a whisper, and I thought of killing him but decided against it. If anything, the last few minutes proved that we probably belonged together. Two natural killers.

I found her behind the tree and I took her hand. She had seen me for what I am, and I was glad, because I didn't have to hide it any more. She was afraid, but I don't think it was of me because she jumped into my arms and hugged my neck. I would carry her the rest of the way, bring her to her heaven looking like a mad bloodied demon, but it didn't matter, because as soon as she was safe I would return to hell and live out the sentence that I had forever avoided.

The General didn't follow, but instead stood behind, where he would surely wait for my return and to pay my debt. I didn't look at him as I walked by, he didn't matter, only the last piece of good in this world that I carried in my arms mattered. It made everything make sense, the endless road of nightmares and regrets had lead me to that bridge.

We stepped on the bridge as the moon illuminated the sky. It was not completely full, but it was fitting that it would be our guide as we walked the rusted and broken steel. I wondered how long before it fell into the river and drowned like everything else from the world past.

I could see light coming toward us. They knew we were there and we would be interrogated, or shot on the spot. "I have a child!!" I screamed into the oncoming lights. "Stop where you are," came an echoed reply.

I stopped there and watched the lights get bigger, and listened to the multiple footsteps grow louder. My thoughts were, the city's guards would have a tough time sneaking up on anyone. They stopped twenty feet in front of us. There were five men dressed in soldier gear holding rifles. I wondered if they were loaded, which made me chuckle. I then put Viv down and told them I was there to return the girl to her mother and I wanted nothing else. I also told them I had to see that she was safe before I left. They stood silently with rifles all pointed at me and then one stepped forward. He was middle aged, but he looked strong and walked with authority. He stopped five feet in front of us, lowered his weapon, and then bent down to his knees. He stared at Viv and put on a big smile which made me think he was probably a dad. I respected that because it meant nothing but constant worry in this world. Being a parent was a sentence I wished upon no one.

He then stood back up and looked at me, "The girl can cross but she will do it alone," he said.

"Like I said, I will see her to her safety," I replied in a low growl. I was in no mood to quarrel and I had to fight down the beast. I also knew that if I got aggressive they would never let me pass, and I would probably find out if their guns were loaded.

"I would ask why you are full of blood, but I know you had to get through many savages to make it here. Some remarkable feat, but you must understand, we have rules."

I wanted to scream that there are no rules left in this horrid land. Only those who lived behind the walls and those that lived outside them. The only rule was to survive, and I was the best at it. I wanted to tell him that I could tear out his throat and enter his city and rip through anyone else who opposed, but this was about Viv. This would hopefully be her new home, where she could dance and sing her songs and read her books, and not have to travel the badlands alongside a monster who makes deals with the devil.

Before I could speak, the soldier pulled something out of his jacket. He then stared at what looked like a picture of some kind, and then stared long at me. His face then softened into a smile. "I will be damned. She always said you would come." He then hands me the photo, which is of me along with Ash and our daughter. It was taken by our waitress at the diner the day I had arrived.

At that moment, even though I had just been through and seen so many unreal things, I felt for the first time that I was part of some sick joke. That the world was a big reality show with myself as the clueless star, and the rest of the world was sitting by their big TV's laughing and crying at my woeful fate. I could feel Viv squeezing my hand but I didn't have it in me now to look at her. I was embarrassed at my childish glee and my bitter and jaded endless adulthood mixing together to form a non-familiar reaction. Instead I just continued to stare at the photo that took me through time at a faster pace than the dusty memories that were stored in my head. It finally reached the moment of the three of us sitting there at that small-town café, with the nice waitress and the full moon looming, and the last true day of my life, a real life. "Ash?" I asked in a whimper, in which I was afraid to know the answer.

The head guard put down his head "No, I am sorry. She caught the disease shortly after the wars began. She managed to get your daughter underground with a good society of people. People who started this city."

"My daughter." The thought engulfed me with such force I fell to one knee. Viv wrapped her arms around my neck.

After a moment, the guard helped me to my feet. "Come, and let's get you cleaned up. Your daughter is waiting. She always has been."

With that we walked over the bridge to the city, where my Viv could dream and I could hope. I could see down below that the city around the water was secured by a giant wall that snaked around the city and at its peak was patrolled by soldiers with guns. I wondered if they could keep the devil out?

Inside the walls, they took us through some kind of tunnel where there were large windows exposing the city below us. Lights lit it up like Christmas past, and people walked the clean streets dressed in normal clothes, with normal ease. It was like something out of Twilight Zone to see such normalcy in a world where that was long forgotten. Soldiers patrolled the streets in spots, but their posture was casual and at ease. Only the soldiers who stood on top of the wall looked erect and focused. They seemed to go on as far as my eyes could see. The large moon above illuminated their small lights like lightning bugs on a summer night.

For the first time in recent memory I felt extremely exhausted, which was strange considering it was so close to the full moon. I had just gone through a change, which always knocked me out. Did this mean I wouldn't change on the moon? They took us to separate rooms, and they almost had to pry Viv's hand from mine. I reassured her it was okay. The look in her eyes seemed to be worry, for me, not herself. I must have looked terrible, crusted with blood and drained from a photo of ghosts.

My room was small, with a made bed and a small desk with a desk light. I still had a tough time getting over the normalcy of the place. On top of the bed were some clean clothes. I made my way into the bathroom and started the shower. The hot water steamed up the room, a sight I had long forgotten. Not sure how long I was in there, but it was a while. It was like being in a dream; my skin tingled from the hot water, and my muscles relaxed a lifetime of stiffness, as red water escaped into the drain.

As soon as I was dressed in the t-shirt and jeans, that fit perfectly, there was a knock on the door. My first thought was that I was being watched, my second thought was that it didn't matter. I opened the door to the head guard standing alone. Not even a weapon in his hand. "Be careful who you go trusting," I snarled, as I turned my back to him.

"I wanted to tell you that the girl's mom never made it here. We checked our records. No one with the name or description the girl gave us entered the city walls. The savages probably got to her like all the rest."

My heart sank a bit but I expected nothing else. "Well, you have a bunch less of them to worry about." I put on a clean pair of socks. It felt like clouds on my broken feet. "How's the girl?" I asked.

"We didn't tell her. She is sleeping comfortably."

I looked up at the guard, who now stood in front of my bed. "Is it time for me to see her?" my heart began to race at the thought of seeing my girl. Would she recognize the beast that had once been in her?

"Yes. It is time. She is our president. Thought you should know that."

My girl had survived and ended up being the leader of the only halfway human city in the land. "I guess I did something right," I said out loud, more to myself than to the stranger a few feet away.

"Your daughter told me you are a man of God. Not too many of them left."

"She told you wrong."

"The way I see it, only a man with the blessing of God could come this far."

"The man of the devil can go a long way, also."

"The man of the devil doesn't bring a young girl through the badlands to safety."

I was in no mood to keep this conversation up, so I just stood up, slipped on the leather shoes that were provided and gestured for him to lead the way. A part of me wanted to head back through the tunnel and over the bridge, back to the place I belonged, with the castoffs and creatures of the night. Instead I followed the pleasant guard down the illuminated corridor with whispers of happiness outside the walls.

My palms were sweaty by the time we reached the great room, with two armed guards at its enormous double doors. My daughter sure didn't spare on extravagant. The two young guards opened the doors at my guard's signal. The room before me was of marble and granite, with a great ceiling that seemed endless. Inside there were a dozen more guards who lined up against the stone walls almost a football field apart. Straight ahead there were marble steps that spread half the size of the room, and led to another smaller double door.

She walked out with the grace of a queen and the swiftness of a deadly cat. At first I thought I was staring at my beloved Ash. The similarities were stunning. My heart continued to melt and my knees buckled. How long could I hold back the tears? She stood at the top of the stairs, not dressed in a gown, but instead a red leather uniform that made her look ready for battle. I could see the tears rolling down her face, which lifted the flood gates of my own. She didn't bother to wipe her face as she made her way down the stairs and to me. It was like being caught in slow motion, or a far-off dream, and yet I couldn't focus. The overwhelming feeling of vulnerability made me a pile of emotions.

She stood before me, an image of her mother, but the eyes of my very own father. In those eyes was the strength that I had searched for since his death. "I knew you would come," her voice like a song that young Viv sang herself to sleep to every night.

"I searched everywhere. I thought you were gone." I said as she fell into me with an embrace that seemed to baptize me of all the layers that have kept me from being human. Viv had started it, and now it was complete. In her arms, I couldn't feel the beast inside me. The first time since I had taken it from her so many years before.

Afterwards we went into her apartment, which was behind the double doors at the top of the stairs. She told me of how the city was formed. Ash had sent her underground with doctors and engineers and their families. At first it was just a hundred or so, and then it grew and grew. Scouting groups would go out and find more survivors. Then, after years, they made their move and took over the city. They accumulated enough of an army to guard the city limits as the walls were built. It took years and many were lost to the savages, but they were also taking more in. Soldiers stranded from their armies. Families stranded from society. More doctors and scientists, and so on. She told me that the man who had cared for her was an engineer, and president until his death a few years earlier. She had taken his place through a vote. Democracy was practiced.

"And Ash?" I asked not sure if it was appropriate but I needed to know.

"Mom caught the disease early. She spent her final weeks finding me safety. She died peacefully on a night with a full moon. Her last words were,'he will find you.' " Tears began to roll down her face, and I grabbed her hand from across the table. "I have wandered the last thirty years, without a soul or purpose. I am sorry I didn't get here sooner."

"You are here now."

"Yes, but you must know I cannot stay."

She stood up from the table abruptly. "What do you mean? We can control what's inside you. Plus, we have the best scientists."

I cut her off by grabbing both her hands and staring into her familiar eyes that made me long for another alternative. "I made a deal to get here. The deal that I made is one that cannot be broken. Not without bringing possible harm to you and this city."

"You are safe here. I am safe with you."

"I will spend the rest of my days finding a way to get back here to you, and I will find a way, but we have to do it my way. "

She turned her back to me and I could see some of the strength she possessed. Her back straightened and when she turned back to me it was not my daughter but instead the queen. "As you wish."

"I also need a favor of you. The reason I am here is because of the girl. She came looking for a mother that she will not find. I need you to look after her. There is something special about her."

Her face softened and I thought of Ash. "Of course. I will look after her."

"Thank you."

There was no more talk of staying or leaving. Instead, we focused on each other and embraced the moments we had. There were tears and laughter and embraces and jabs. For the next few hours I felt like a dad with a long lost daughter, and she felt like a woman, not a queen with a crown. She begged me to stay a few days, but I insisted that it had to be now. The quicker to start my sentence. Leaving her sitting there whimpering like a young girl was the hardest thing I had ever had to do, and I knew a part of me had truly died.

I sat next to Viv in her bed. I told her that her mom was not there. Her eyes watered up but once again she proved her maturity as she accepted it. I told her my daughter would look after her and she would be safe. She would be able to sing and dance and be the little girl that God had intended. She didn't fight me when I told her I had to leave. She knew the deal I had made, and with whom. There was nothing to be said of it. "You will return. We will wait for you," she said, as I rose from the side of her bed. She began to sing as I walked toward the door. It was a parting gift that would stay with me always. I wanted to turn to her before I left, but I couldn't. Too much for one night. Instead, I listened to her angelic song as I walked down the corridor.

I was met by three guards, who escorted me to the bridge. They offered me weapons and supplies, but I refused. The head guard walked me the final few feet to where I would continue on my own.

"There will be stories of you. It will give people hope. What should I say you are called?"

"You can call me Priest." And with that I walked into the night.

The End

THE END

Bio: Scott Cafarella is a 45 year old masonry contractor who "has written his whole life" but had never submitted a story to anyone before. This story was inspired by his experience of being a dad to his two children, Dylan and Rory.

E-mail: Scott Cafarella

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