kingdom of god 8

The northern shore of the wide Siana was a rocky and barren plain looked over by the Urbana Mountains that stood like crumbling and snow capped tombstones to the gods. Save for the occasional screaming Nighthawk, the lowland stood silent through night and day as an ominous warning to travelers drifting northwards. After Wade departed the ferry he crept westbound towards the town of Khiva and he crossed no one along the way. Upon arrival he found that the outskirts were deserted and the buildings and homes were stripped of their parts and there were no occupants either living or dead. Myst from the mountains drifted downward and wetted the ground and at the doorstep in the back alley of the abandoned tavern, Wade shouted. Moments later a scraggly drifter answered Wade’s call and invited him in. He served the guest boiled potatoes from an old brass pot and a bottle of whiskey.

“Is that all you have?” asked Wade.

“It’s all that grows,” answered Sheridan.

Sheridan belched and helped himself to a heaping of potatoes and small bits of skin and water dribbled into his beard as he shoveled it into his mouth. Wade sat his bowl down and took from the whiskey bottle. “I’m looking for the Shepherd,” he informed Sheridan.

“Did you ask Gomez?”

“I did.”

“And what did he tell you?”

“He wouldn’t say.”

“If the Agency doesn’t know then what makes you think I would?”

“Because I don’t think it’s that big of a secret.”

“Then why didn’t Gomez tell you?”

“He knows what I’m aiming to do.”

“Which is?”

“Kill him most likely.”

Sheridan guffawed and uncorked the whiskey bottle. And after he drank he sat the bottle down and wiped his mouth with his sleeve and a stern look fell over his face. “Most likely?! What the hell else might happen?!”

“If I can reach an agreement with him, that would be better,” explained Wade. “Milner wants a piece of the Nain and the Agency would prefer if a peaceful settlement could be achieved.”

“And if not?”

“Then you know what happens.”

“You’ll kill him?”

“He’ll try to kill me first.”

“That goddamn Milner is a clown,” shouted Sheridan. “And you’re a fool for throwing your weight behind him! Is he still calling himself a chiefdon? The Promised Land?! It’s a joke ya hear!”

“Spare me, Sheridan. The Shepherd is no sage.”

“And that’s why I stay out of it!”

“By surviving on potatoes and whiskey? Now where is he?”

“He’s north of the Urbanas! That’s all I know.”

“Can you show me?”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“How much are you asking for?”

TO BE CONTINUED…

kingdom of god 7

Satisfied with the representative’s response, Wade left the Agency’s office and headed back towards the inn. When he arrived he informed the innkeeper to hold his room for a few more days while he went north yet the innkeeper only moaned and protested.

“I took a closer look at that gold ring you gave me and it ain’t worth two rat shits put together. You’ll have to find another form of payment,” the man said.

But Wade spat on the floor and put his hands on the desk. “I’m gonna need the silver. I’ll pay you when I get back,” he told the innkeeper.

“No sir. I need payments up front.”

“And what about you snoopin around rooms while your guests are away? I doubt the Guild would take kindly to what’s going on here.”

“The Guild don’t have no say in how I do business! Now you get your shit and get outta here!”

“Then I want my ring back.”

“Why?”

“If it ain’t worth two shits then what difference does it make?”

“And what about the whore?”

“I’ll settle up with her later.”

The innkeeper gave the ring back and Wade gathered his things with the satchel dangling in front of him and rifle case around his shoulder and he departed towards the river’s edge. There a ferryman stood by and Wade gave him a piece of silver to boat him to the northern shore. As the ferryman cast off, more Nighthawks scrambled overhead and the ferryman chuckled.

“Ya know, they say that the longer you spend on this river that the river will eventually speak to ya,” the ferryman joked. “But I hear nothing from this water. The only thing I hear is that damn screamin from the sky. I found two bodies floating downstream yesterday. Last week I found six! I suppose the creeks from them mountains are washing the bodies down here. Goddamn. I don’t know what kind of fool would want to go up that a way but I imagine if anything is talkin these days it’s the folks up in those hills. The only folks they sendin down this way are their dead and a graveyards ain’t known for being jovial.”

Wade said nothing as he watched the waters glide underneath the boat.

“I can see you ain’t much of a talker neither,” the ferryman said.

TO BE CONTINUED…

kingdom of god 6

And in the morning he stashed away his belongings under the floorboards and away from the prying eyes of the innkeeper and then he marched back down the steps and into the musty streets of Harar where overhead was heard the screaming of Nighthawk missiles as they thundered through the sky and headed northward. Minutes later Wade arrived at the old storefront which housed the local offices of Agency representative Javier Gomez where the inside remained a barren landmark of time in memoriam. The representative himself sans a robust staff scribbled on a notepad at his desk with his back turned against the window facing the northerly Urbana Mountains. Nighthawks continued roaring overhead and were barely muffled by the brick and insulation. Wade noticed Gomez’s hand shaking.

“You think it’s bad here,” he told the representative, “think about how bad it must be for the people of Nain.”

Ignoring his comment and not looking up, Gomez continued his pointless jotting. “What can I do you for Wade?”

“Milner wants to make a bid,” he said.

Gomez dropped the pen and clasped his hands on the desk. “On what?” the representative asked.

“On the lands northwest of the Siana. Just on the border of Milner’s.”

Gomez shook his head and resumed the jotting. “You’re a little late,” he said.

“Why’s that?”

“It already has a bid and I doubt you could beat it.”

“By who?”

“You know who.”

“The Shepherd?”

Gomez nodded.

“Do you know where he is? Perhaps I could discuss the matter with him.”

The representative once again looked up. “That’s not a good idea. As of lately negotiating with him hasn’t been good for one’s health.”

“Are you referring to Tollum’s land?”

“How do you know about that?”

“I passed through it on my way up.”

“Then you know exactly what I mean.”

“But you’re the agency. Can’t you facilitate some sort of arrangement?”

“It doesn’t work that way and you know it.”

“Then maybe I should go up there and take care of that problem for you.”

Gomez’s face turned a bright red and he lifted a finger towards Wade. “You listen to me goddamnit! You keep your mouth shut! I won’t have talk of killin in my offices!”

“I said nothing about killin, Javier. You did.”

“I’m not a fool! I know what Milner pays you for and I don’t like it!”

“Have you been to Tollum’s lately? Women and children dead in the streets with their bones getting picked apart by old hermits. I suppose you’ll cede that land to the Shepherd as well? What good is an agency if it can’t stop this lawlessness?”

Javier piped down and lowered his head back to the notepad. “Alright then. If you want to negotiate with the Shepherd then that’s your business. And unless a lawful agreement can be reached, I don’t want to know about it. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

kingdom of god 4

North to Nain was a day’s travel on water but the rivers to the east and west were polluted by thieves and robbers of the night which left Wade little choice but to travel overland. The roads were ruptured and shattered and the earth under the asphalt remained in upheaval from the shock of aerial bombardment and the land was festered with the corpses of timber and rusted steel. It was futile for thieves to rummage these parts. But miles ahead through the sun soaked fog, the wanderer saw a curious fellow scouring the naked fields. He momentarily corrected course to follow this itinerant hermit through the brush and through the sea of purpled phlox and arrived at the deserted town once owned by the Tollom Corporation. Wade lowered his rifle then marched forth and whether through disease or famine the dead lay untouched in their homes while the children were shot in the streets with the women mangled and skirts upturned. He stopped the old hermit as he rummaged through the corpses for any morsel of worth left in this decayed land.

“What happened here?” Wade asked the old man.

“What’s been happening,” the hermit said.

“What happened to Tollum?”

“I reckon he refused to sell.”

“Sell to whom?”

“The Shepherd.”

The old hermit moved from body to body and picked apart their swollen and bloodied remains and then burrowed into the abandoned homes and storefronts for anything not yet taken by thieves and the hermit would stash his findings into a brown leather satchel before resuming his ghoulish search. And Wade would watch the old man creep and slink around like a cat cautiously poking through a rubble of trash.

“Did you know these people?” he asked the hermit.

“No not really,” said the old man.

Then he found the body of a woman with breast exposed and belly cut open on the ground and he reached into her dress to retrieve a singular golden ring. He held the ring up and flashed his rotted teeth to signal his biggest find of the day then he dropped the ring into the satchel. Wade lowered his rifle and fired a round into the chest of the hermit and the bullet busted open his chest and the old man collapsed backward to the ground. He walked towards the hermit and when he saw that he was dead, Wade took the satchel and threw it around his shoulder.

It was two more days before he reached the edge of Nain.

TO BE CONTINUED…

kingdom of god 3

The man called Wade shuffled past the children at play and then past the men clanging and toiling through the village like winged insects circling a hive. And in the center of it all was the courthouse sitting as a potentate overseeing its fiefdom. He ascended the steps of the courthouse and to the top where Max Milner was awaiting him.

“That brokecock weasle twat threatened to buy me out!” the chiefdon informed Wade.

“The Shepherd sir?”

“Yes the goddamn Shepherd! And I told him this property wouldn’t be worth a penny shit if it wasn’t for me!”

“And what does the Agency say?”

“Goddamn the Agency!”

Milner picked up a half bent pipe and loaded it with tobacco. Then he lit a match and gnawed on the pipe. “I’m just having a bit of breakfast,” the chiefdon said to Wade. “Care for some eggs? Got a little cornbread too.”

“No thank you sir.”

“How about some coffee? Want some coffee?”

“Sure.”

Milner fumbled around the cupboard and stumbled upon an old tin cup and poured in black coffee. Wade sat on a chair in front of Milner’s desk and after the chiefdon sat the cup in front of him he let the cup steam.

“The news said they bombed the shit out of the lands north of the Nain,” said Milner. “And I mean they bombed the shit out of it. They’re forecasting more tonight.”

“Yes sir I know,” said Wade.

“How’s that?”

“We intercepted some refugees this morning. Two men and two women. We executed the men and took the women to the harem.”

Milner’s ears perked up. “Two women you say? What are their ages?”

“The girl is 15 years old and the woman still appears to be of childbearing age.”

“15 years old eh?” Milner asked as smoke billowed from his nose. “That’s good. We got boys in need of a wife. We gotta get this land settled. If the Shepherd is gonna rear end me then I gotta take him for every penny he’s got!”

“Yes sir.”

“Anyway,” says Milner as he waves smoke from his eyes, “I didn’t call you up here for idle chitchat. I want you to go to the Nain. Meet with Javier Gomez while you’re up there.”

“The Agency representative?”

“Yup. That’s him. Ask him if he’ll partition some land. It can’t be worth much anyway.”

“With all things being equal sir, with the bombing, I think it would be best if I stayed down here.”

“All things being equal, I’d rather be here than the Nain too,” Milner jested. “But we’re gonna need some breathing room. And soon..”

“But with refugees fleeing south, they’re bound to pass through here.”

“Don’t worry about it. Kahn can handle it.”

Wade nodded then stood up and straightened out his pants while Milner looked down at his papers. He stammered a bit before speaking. “Anything you want me to tell Javier?” he asked the chiefdon.

Milner reached down into his desk and pulled out an envelope with two baseball cards stuffed inside. “Yeah. Give him that, will ya?” Wade took it and placed the envelope in his jacket pocket.

“Is that all sir?” he asked Milner.

“That’s all.”

Wade bowed and started to leave but he opened the door the chiefdon spoke up. “Wait a minute!” he shouted.

Wade turned around.

“Are you gonna drink that coffee?”

kingdom of god 2

The two men marched the two women through the torched and upturned earth past charred trees and stones where echoes of the living had found their resting place. Though the dull and grey and blackened vestiges of bloodshed dotted the countryside, to the south remained a symbol of past and future. A village, or what seemed like one, aligned with stinging metal and men standing watch and looking towards the great abyss beyond. In the center of it all was a relic to law and order. Perhaps it was a courthouse before the days of the alleged war but to the women it was a tawdry reminder of a failed establishment.

The men pushed the women towards the harem where they were stripped and searched and issued new attire. When it was over, the man took the older woman aside.

“Where were you going?” he asked her.

“It’s…it’s difficult to explain,” she stammered.

“Will there be others coming through?”

“I don’t know.”

The man took out an old pack of cigarettes and offered the woman one. She refused. He placed one in his mouth and lit it. “What’s your name?” he asked.

“Regina.”

“Regina. What did you do before this?”

“I’m a follower of Jonny.”

“Jonny? The magician?”

“He’s not a magician.”

“Well you know that he died in an attack many years ago.”

“He promised he’ll be back.”

“It’s hard to come back from being blown to smithereens.”

The man stamped out his cigarette and escorted the women to their quarters but before he left the woman Regina stopped him. “Why are you doing this to us?” she inquired.

“You are now property of the Milner Corporation,” he informed her. “The men executed. Were they your family?”

The woman nodded.

“According to law, we are permitted to liquidate men of fighting age,” he said. “You may not understand but as we told you, this is private land. When the war is over, everything that you saw will be fully developed into something greater than what it was before. There is a lot of money to be made. A future to restore.”

“But what will happen to us?”

“You needn’t worry,” the man said. “As women you will bear the future. You will be a part of something wonderful and in time you will understand.”

The women took their bedside. But before the man left, he stopped and turned around. “My name is Wade,” he said. “Welcome to the Promised Land.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

the kingdom of god 1

A speck meandering through darkness. Focus on it long enough and it becomes indistinguishable from the vacuum in which it sojourns. To notice it would seem like a blunder from an otherwise faultless maker. But It is on this canvas of blackened nullity where hopes and dreams reside. Where love and tribulation live side by side like paramours in the dead of night. Look a little closer and a tale will emerge. These chronicles are familiar to us but exist as abominations in the ceaseless void.

Every story must begin somewhere. And this one begins here.

Light puckers intermittently through the greyish mist and a man is huddled under mounds of filth and turnt up earth. He looks upon the valley beneath him like a god casting a shadow on his accursed domain and like a god he sees its few inhabitants as a foolish catch. “Travelers,” he murmurs to himself.

The other man grips his weapon and rejoices like a salivating leopard. “Day travelers,” he gleams.

The man stands up on his kingdomly mound and shouts to the transgressors below. “Halt!” he ordered. The travelers stop and see the specter of a figure several meters above them. There were four in the caravan and one and one attempted a flee. But the man with the weapon rifles a bullet over his shoulder and the young traveler freezes at the kicked up dirt before him.

The two men traverse down the mound to meet their visitors and both were brandishing weapons. They inform the travelers that they were in violation of the law for this was private land. “We are not from the Agency,” the first traveler informed them.

“I figured “ said the man.

“We are fleeing the latest strikes.”

“Where to?”

The traveler didn’t answer.

The man rummages through their belongings and finds little of interest. Just enough food and clothing sufficient for a journey. Then the man looks under the hood of a shrouded traveler. It was a woman.

“I’m taking her according to the law,” the man declared.

“She’s only 15,” said the other woman.

“I’m taking you too.”

“Please have mercy,” begged the traveler. “We have no weapons. We didn’t know this was private land!”

“I’m only doing what the law allows,” said the man.

“Then the law is dead!”

The two men slew the male travelers and gathered their remains. Then they calmed the women at gunpoint then escorted them out of the valley.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia (Conclusion)

Jim reached for his six shooter but he wasn’t quick enough. The cabbie reached for the gun and pulled it from his hands. “Nice pistol you got there old man,” the cabbie said. “But you’re a little slow on the draw.”

Luckily I had the Ruger ready and fired a single shot into the cabbie’s thigh. He fell backwards onto the cab and held his hand over the wound. “That’s for taking the pistol,” I said to him while I was bleeding out on the ground. “Now you better scram before things get ugly.”

Without saying a word, the cabbie stumbled back into the driver’s seat and sped off and then Old Jim attempted to help me to my feet. “It’s fine,” I told him. But it wasn’t fine. The exit wound went through my kidney and blood was soaking up my shirt.

With his arm around me, we stumbled up into the hills before finding a secluded rock overlooking the Los Angeles skyline. I fell to my feet with my back to the rock to rest. I figured I wouldn’t be getting up. “Suppose we need to get you to the hospital,” offered Old Jim.

“Nah,” I said. “I’m ready to meet my prince.”

Jim gloomfully nodded. He planted his back against the rock and we admired the sight before us. I figured I’d have more to say in a moment like this but I didn’t. I didn’t know what time it was but it felt like the sun was racing towards the horizon.

“What do you reckon you’ll do now?” I asked Jim.

“I dunno,” he said.

“I think I have the keys to my apartment somewhere on me,” I said. But I was too weak to reach for them.

“It’s okay,” said Jim. “I never had a home anyway.”

“I guess I owe you an apology too.”

“Forget it,” he said. “I ain’t long for this world no how.”

Those were the last words we said.

It was just before sunup when I woke up alone still rested by the rock. My keys and the Ruger were gone and Jim was nowhere to be found. It felt like the blood was completely drained from my body. I looked around to see the boomer with the Mitsubishi from months earlier leaned up against his car on the side of the road and smoking a cigarette. When he was done with the smoke, he flicked it to the ground and stamped it out.

“What time is it?” I asked him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Come on son. We’ve been up in the hills long enough.”

THE END

Anaideia 53

It was just before sunup when a trucker in a Peterbilt pulled off and rolled down the window. He was shirtless and a Buc-ee’s hat was resting on his head. “You boys need a ride?” he shouted past the loud ass diesel engine.

“Are you headed to Los Angeles?” I asked him.

“I’m going as far as Santa Clarita,” he said.

Shit, I thought. Close enough. So Jim and I climbed into the cab and I closed the door then the 18-wheeler rolled back onto the interstate. We were maybe an hour out of Santa Clarita and I was deadass tired. I didn’t have much to say but the trucker belched and farted and rolled down the window to hock a loogie. “You boys from Los Angeles?” he asked us.

“Yup,” I said.

“Ya know, I used to have a Mexican wife in Los Angeles,” he told us. “And let me tell ya, she sucked a mean weiner too boys. Let me tell ya.”

“Uh huh.”

“I don’t understand why they’re deporting them folks. If they should deport anyone, it should be them goddamn Koreans I tell ya….”

While he went on his diatribe, I fell asleep and 45 minutes later we were in Santa Clarita. Before splitting off towards Palmdale, the trucker pulled off the interstate to let us out. “If you boys ever want to hang out, you can reach me at my Kiwifarms account at…,” the trucker began to say but I immediately close the door behind me.

Jim and I walked for a few miles more before I threw out my thumb again. Minutes later a wino mom crashed her Buick into a guardrail and rolled down her window. “You boys need a ride?” she asked.

I nodded and climbed into the front seat. She weaved in and out of traffic and narrowly missed other motorists down the 405 before arriving at Sherman Oaks. I thanked her for the ride before she barreled off back into traffic and I reached for my wallet.

“We only got $7 bucks left,” I told Old Jim. “We’ll see how far a cab will get us.”

Once again I throw out my thumb. A cabbie stopped. He rolled down the window and glanced at us with his aviators on and I didn’t recognize him. “Can you get us to LA?” I ask him.

The cabbie said nothing for a few moments before lowering his shades. “Where do I recognize you from?” he asked me.

That’s when I knew I made a critical mistake. “I’ve never seen you before in my life,” I told him.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “You’re the son of a bitch who stiffed me in Norco.”

“No sir. Wasn’t me.”

“Bullshit. You owe me $498 bucks.”

“Look, I’ll just hail another cab sir. Have a nice day.”

I kept walking down the road dragging Jim behind me and hoped that the cabbie would move along. But he persisted by getting out of the cab. The fella was big. He stopped in front of us and put his hand to my chest. “Give me my goddamn money,” he demanded.

“Look! I don’t know you!” I pleaded.

The cabbie reached for his ankle holster and pulled out a small caliber .40 then held it to my abdomen. “Now!” he said.

I raised my hands in the air and searched for the right words. “All I have is $7,” I said.

“Give it to me,” he ordered.

I lowered my right hand and pulled out the wallet. With my hands shaking, I handed him the seven bucks. He took the money and stuffed it into his jean pocket. “$491 bucks left,” he said. “A couple of vagrants walking the streets of Sherman Oaks. I don’t think folks around here would object to me blowing a hole in your belly.”

I swallowed hard. “Please don’t,” I said.

But he cocked the pistol and pulled the trigger.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 52

Randy wailed and wailed while the Madam said nothing. She stood motionless and silent and her head held low. I stormed past without acknowledging her and siphoned some gas from the Cadillac then lit the limousine on fire. Randy tried to wrestle my hand away as I reached into his jacket pocket to steal his wallet but I cracked him on the head with the butt of my gun. When that was done, I took the remaining cash from the corpses of the Dale and the driver and I stuffed the cash into my pocket and shouted to the old man.

“Come on Jim,” I said. “We’re leaving this shithole.”

Jim gladly complied and climbed into the passenger’s seat of the Cadillac. Before sitting in the driver’s seat, I looked to the Madam one last time. “Good luck,” was all I said to her. Then I shut the door and started the engine. As we driving away, the Madam was still standing like a statue in the rear view mirror. Then I adjusted the mirror to my liking.

We drove through Penelope’s pass for the last time and back into the barren Utah desert where we traversed the country roads and back to the interstate. I simply headed west. I didn’t bother to count the cash on hand but I reckoned it wasn’t much.

“We probably only have 40 bucks,” I said to Jim. “Do you think we can make it to Los Angeles?”

“Shit if I know,” he said.

It was another roll of the dice; one of many that I took since the journey began. The flat and unappealing landscape left little to admire so my mind started to wander. There were so many that passed on in this odyssey: the Chechens, the Chinese, Tom, Burl, Karl, the prisoners, the men in the wilderness, Vic.

And Dale.

My time was coming. But it wasn’t today.

On a single tank of gas, we made it to Sacramento and at California’s capital I took the 5 southbound to Los Angeles. I drove straight on through the night. It was clear that the Cadillac would run out of gas somewhere between Stockton and Bakersfield and when we reached Delano during dead of darkness the engine petered out.

“How are your legs, Jim?” I asked the old man.

“Terrible,” he said.

“Well, we’re gonna have to ditch this piece of shit and hitchhike.”

We got out of the vehicle and I threw the keys on the ground. I stuck out my thumb and continued walking southbound and prayed to god that highway patrol wouldn’t stop us.

TO BE CONTINUED…