A Story For The Ages
Part One: The Party Is Over
Written By: Armina Qi Saxton
Standard Disclaimer: See Prologue
Chapter One: Lost Soul
It was about mid-afternoon, or about around late lunch time, when he finally opened his eyes and found a slitting headache waiting for him. It pounded his head as though someone was stomping upon it and he felt like he should close his eyes to rid himself of it. Instead, he rose carefully, only to find another pain coursing up and down his spine. He winced, putting a hand upon his lower back; even that seemed hard to do, with his body stiff and every action of movement feeling like his muscles had been ripped from bone. He wouldn't have been surprised that he did, in fact, have several broken bones, if he was lucky enough to have that little bit.
He looked around at where he was, then shivered. He realized that he was sitting in the sand at a near-low tide with the water lapping against his feet. At first, he didn't bother getting up, just content on sitting where he was at the time. Maybe it was his aching body that didn't want him to stand up, or maybe it was the serenity of the day that made him feel as though he had all the time in the world to sit there without anything else to do. Whatever the reason he stayed on that spot, he knew he had to get up eventually, even if it hurt him even more.
Thinking about it was one thing, doing it was another. Had his body felt like it hadn't been shot through a cannon several times, he would have gotten up as quickly as he could without worry. As it were, his body felt too weak to even support his weight; every attempt to stand up caused him to stumble back onto the sandy beach. He wanted to just sit there until the pain in his body subsided, but he couldn't just sit there and let it overcome him. He HAD to get up, regardless of how he felt. He had done it before and he would do it again today.
He didn't even know how long it took him to finally be on his two legs, shaky as they were, and stay standing up without falling over. It seemed like it took hours and it probably did; if it did, then that was hours that he didn't have to get himself out of the water and onto dry land. He finally did it, even after all the failed attempts before. There was no reason to start trying to walk at the moment, not when he felt like his legs were about to give out on him. There was nothing he could lean on to help him steady himself or to walk across the small strip of beach; even if a small amount of strength went into his legs in the next few moments, they surely would give out on him in the street.
That was what he set his mind on, getting to the paved road and not falling down; if he could do that, then he could focus on something else to get to. With every baby step he took, he slowly made his way to the road, falling down several times in the process. He was glad that there was no one walking around on the island during this time or he would have been more embarrassed then he was at the moment. He did not want anyone to see him like this, not even those that had seen him in worse situations then this.
Which brought him to the realization that he WAS the only one the island; or seemed to be at the moment. There was no one there, not even a drunken soul with a hangover from late-night Halloween parties. He stood there upon the road that went around the Marketplace, staring at the empty stalls that sat just outside it without anyone there to sell their goods that they no longer wanted. There was no on buying things that people wanted to get rid of, no one making sure that there was no stealing involved or scamming, no nothing. It was quiet and still, as if the island had turned into a large graveyard that no one ever visited.
It took him a few moments for this to sink in and the flashes of memory of the night before to come back at him. He stood there, back straight and eyes wide, as he remembered fleeing just as something crashed into his home. His mouth dropped open when it hit him that the blast had catapulted him from one side of the island to the other, he landing somewhere between the ocean and the beach. It was in his amazement that he hadn't died from the impact of his body hitting whatever he had hit, if the blast hadn't killed him first. Even with his body as it was, the pain still there even after all the time it took him to get to this one spot, he was still amazed that he didn't suffer worse bodily harm then it did.
Then it hit him. His home was gone, his only place he ever got out of the prying eyes of the Gaian population and the Gaian Council. He shook his head, not wanting to believe that it was really gone until he saw it for himself. If he could get that far, that is. The Marketplace was big enough for a few hundred stalls that were crammed together with room to spare, but it wasn't big enough to take over the entire island. If he could push himself to get there, then he could see what had happened to his precious home.
The journey to his now long-since gone home began, if he could get there. He walked slowly, not because his legs were still trying to get used to walking again, but because he dreaded what he would fin on the other side of the Marketplace. His heart pounded, his body shook, and he put his eyes down upon the ground so that the wouldn't see the remains of his hard work all at once. He was still in shock over the fact that he was still alive, if that was what he called alive. He felt numb and dead, like everything had been stripped away from him. As if he wasn't really there.
He finally came to the other side of the Marketplace, where his home had stood before. Taking a deep breath as he stopped, he slowly turned to where his home should have been and looked up. What he saw nearly made him burst into tears. There was nothing there; no mansion, no beautiful structure, nothing that showed all the hard work in which he had put into having that home built. What used to be a beautiful mansion that had been lip up at night was gone; there was nothing behind the chain fence that stood seven feet high with barbed wire at the top and went all the way around the exterior of the grounds. There was even a yellow sign there, that read: No Entry Beyond This Point.
And, yet, there was a sign of life on the island. A long figure, standing there by the sign with head raised high and eyes staring straight ahead. There was no expression upon the face of the guard that stood there, keeping an eye out for those that did not need to see what remained of the once-proud mansion. He felt a twinge of hope in him, strength that he did not have in him before. He strode up quickly to the fence, eyes looking out into the charred rubble as he stood in front of the fence, looking slightly hopeful at this glimpse.
The guard didn't see it as such, head turning towards where this new stranger had come up to. He felt a hand pull him back front he fence, his head turning towards the guard in which had pulled him from what he was looking at. There was no emotions in the guards eyes, except for anger. Anger at seeing someone trying to take a glimpse at something they should not be at.
"How did you get here, sir? Don't you know that Isle de Gambino is off limits to the public until further notice?" The guard asked, not releasing the grip from this man's arm. Removing his own arm from this grip himself, he stared at the guard in a horrified manner.
"Since when as had the island been off limits?" He couldn't imaging someone trying to tell him to stay away from what was left of his home, the place that he had lived in for years.
"Since G-Corp declared it as off limits until midnight tonight. They want to make sure that there isn't any zombies left roaming the island. The Port of Gambino is safe now, since about an hour ago." The guard looked him up and down. "You weren't bitten, were you? "Cause, if you were, you need to stay here while I get someone from G-Corp. I'm sure that they will give you a vial, if thee is any left."
"Don't worry. I haven't been bitten by anyone, living or dead." He then frowned at the thought. Why would G-Corp be keeping the island closed off to the public? Didn't the explosion of the mansion kill all of the zombies, if he remembered correctly? "Is there anyway I could get in contact with a G-Corp tech that hasn't been turned into a zombie? There are a few things I'd to....."
"I'm sorry, sir, but all remaining G-Corp personal are no longer available to talk to the public. Not after what happened last night at the Halloween party. I even hear there are a few of them looking for Johnny K. Gambino right now, for reasons I can't tell you," The guard shaking his head. The man stared at him, his mouth hanging open in mere surprise. This guard standing before him, looking directly at him, did not even recognize him as the person he had just mentioned. The one that was denying him to even LOOK at his own home. He regained his composure, his blue eyes blazing with heat.
"I AM Johnny K. Gambino, you idiot," He spat out, just before he realized it was a mistake. If the guard had said that there were a few G-Corp techs looking for him, then what would make him not run to them? Instead, the guard just laughed in his face.
"That's funny. really is." The guard laughed for several more moments before his face turned semi-serious. "Okay, Mr. Gambino. You need to get yourself off of this island or I will FORCE you off of it. Understand?"
The man stared at the guard, shocked that he was being asked to leave the island until further notice or he would be forced off of it. That was unheard of, being forced off of the place in which he had founded and lived on for so long. If he had the choice at the moment, he would have had this guards' head mounted above a fireplace for this. But there was no longer a fireplace to hang anything upon as he turned on his heels and walked silently towards the port-side where he would stay until all were allowed back onto the island. He would go quietly this time and only because he had no strength or energy to stand there and argue with a guard that had looked down upon him as if he was nothing.
And it hurt.
****
It wasn't big but it would do for now, even for those that never had much of anything. It was just enough for Peyo and Ruby to be comfortable until the ban on Isle de Gambino was lifted and they could go back to their own home. If they went back that night at all. Neither one seemed too thrilled to go anytime soon, even after they could. It would be a slow transition back into their daily lives, a process that hopefully wouldn't take long.
Ian watched as Ruby and Peyo slept in his bed, sitting uncomfortably upon one of two chairs that was taken from the kitchen. It wasn't a big bed or one that he would want anyone else to have to sleep on unwillingly, but it was just enough for them. He smiled at them, in a way glad that he was able to help both, even if it was simple as allowing them use of his bed. That was about all that he could give them at the moment: a warm bed and a small meal. It was enough for them at least and they took it with thanks and many more on the way.
"Here you go, hon," A soft voice said from the doorway. Ian looked up as Agatha walked into the bedroom holding two cups of freshly made, steaming tea. He took one carefully as it was handed to him, as Agatha took the remaining chair next to him. "They'll be okay. It's not like we haven't had scares before, with everything that's been going on lately."
"But not like this," Ian said, taking a sip of his tea. "What do you think went wrong during the last few days?"
"I honestly don't know, Ian. Maybe it is just something that went wrong at the wrong time and at the wrong place." Agatha looked down into her cup, a light smile upon her lips. "I remember years ago when Johnny was at a younger age. Mind, he may not be very far younger then I, maybe a good ten years or so, but even then he did things that put more then one person's lives in danger. Then, he was truly sorry for the things that he did, regardless of what it was. He eventually let the power go to his head and he became more careless and less sorry for what he did."
"Are you saying we should forgive him for this? For everything?" Ian asked, raising his voice. Agatha glanced over towards the bed, almost certain that one of them would wake at the sound of Ian's rising voice. Only Peyo stirred in his sleep, perhaps a nightmare that he had before.
"Yes and no," She said slowly and softly. "No because this destroyed lives that most likely will never be rebuilt. Those that were affected won't find it in their hearts to forgive something like this so easily and quickly. Yes because I believe this isn't something Johnny would have willingly done to endanger as many lives as there was rumored to be at his mansion last night. He wouldn't have willingly put those lives at risk."
"Well, he did. Even if he took all the precautions, look at where it got him." If Ian could, he would have thrown the cup he held in his hands down onto the floor and walked out of the room at that very moment. Instead, his hands shook to a point where he thought that the cup would drop on it's own to the floor and break.
"I take it you don't like Johnny Gambino very much," Agatha said, bringing her cups to her lips. "Why?"
"He is an arrogant bastard, that is what he is. The power he possessed went to his head; even you said it yourself, Agatha. That is not normal for Gaians around here. they know when to back off at times. I don't think Johnny even spent a day walking around here without looking down upon everyone else, even his own son."
"So they do," Agatha mused, lowering her cup. She was slightly surprised at Ian's outburst, but with the events that happened the night before, she couldn't blame him, even if she did not like it. "I can't say I'd disagree with you when you say that he is arrogant, but are things about Johnny Gambino that you don't know, and I am not the one who is going to divulge his secrets either. Lets just say what I know about him, little else that there is to know, would make you rethink things and shudder."
"There isn't much else to rethink. I'm basing my thoughts on him on his actions in the last year and half and it isn't something I'd want to base them on, regardless of what he did in the past. If Johnny Gambino would ever turn a new leaf over, I'll hand the Boutique over to Rufus." Ian cracked a real smile for what seemed like months, causing Agatha to choke on her tea.
"I'm sure that if Johnny were to ever change, Rufus will be delighted to have his own store," She said once she regained her composure. She couldn't return the smile that Ian had, thinking upon what he had said. If she knew Johnny, this would give him more reason to change and become the person that he had once been so long ago.
****
A few miles from the Port of Gambino, sat a stretch of land that sat between the ocean-side of Gaia and Barton Town. It was almost like it was an untamed wild, except that there wasn't any wildlife that needed to be tamed, not unless someone counted the guppies swimming in the water, or overgrown trees that spilled down towards the ground. This was a safe haven for those hat did not want to go to the island or back into town. It was a serene place, one where those wishing to just get away would come for a afternoon or stay for a quick round of fishing.
This was Bass'ken Lake, a place where beginner fishers could come and hone their skills before they started off for the port or the Durem Reclamation Facility. Here they could catch the smallest fish that would make for a small meal or could be sold for gold or even exchanged for items. There were usually many that would visit this place on a daily basis, to lounge around before heading home for the evening. A place where people could fish their cares away.
But there was no one at the lake that day, not even the regular fishers who came so often that they were recognized instantly. Oh, there were a few that walked from Barton to the port, mostly gawkers that would stare off towards the island to try to get a glimpse of what was going on. Others went to try to get back onto the island, trying to get back to their home but denied every time. It was painfully clear that there wouldn't be anyone going home that day, not until the mandatory ban was lifted at midnight that very night. It was a precaution, G-Corp had said. Just to make sure that there wasn't any threats left.
Logan sighed and yawned, staring out of the front window of the fishing store just to watch the latest batch of the Gaian population walk from the port. He was half glad that there was no one fishing that day, partly because he had been awoken so early in the morning from all the commotion that was spilling out from the island. Sleep had not come back to him so easily once things had died down, not after the things that he had heard from those that were there. He shuddered at the thought of being caught up in that, turning away from the window and walking back behind the counter.
He was even more glad not to even be on of the many that was caught up in it. He could have gone to the Halloween party alright, if he didn't have other things upon his mind the night before. Sweeping the store, washing down the counters, taking a mental count of supplies that he would have to order soon. Things that he had to straighten around the shop after a horde of people had come in, some of them young trick-or-treaters that had to go to bed early in the evening. Logan had always had a fondness for Halloween, seeing the younger Gaians dressed up in costumers and their faces lighting up whenever they had had gotten candy. That was partly why he enjoyed the holiday, to see people dressed up in ways they would not dress up any other day. The other part was to eat any leftover candy that he had; he always found that gained several pounds just from this holiday alone.
But, this year, there was no joy to be found in eating what candy was leftover. In fact, the barely touched indulgence was still sitting in a yellow medium-sized bowl upon the glass counter that held the displays of fishing supplies that could not be found on the shelves. It sat next to a half-eaten bowl of cereal that Logan sate while watching passerby's walk by. That seemed to be the only thing that he could stomach at the moment, given what he had heard earlier. Not even trying to tell young Peyo that everything was fine was enough to calm his own nerves. He had heard the sounds of something coming from the island, but it wasn't loud enough to really get him worried. That was something he did not pay any heed to, until it started.
Logan had barely gotten behind the counter when the door to the shop flew open and a man stumbled in quickly, apparently either running away from something or he had tripped himself in. However he had entered, the man pushed the door closed just as quickly as he had come in, going upon his knees as he stared out of the glass door as if he was looking for someone or something out there. When it was apparent that there was no one there, he turned around and sat down with his back upon the door with a sigh. He was about to open his mouth to say something about people barging in when the stranger looked up at him and their eyes met. It was only when he realize who this man was did Logan's words catch in his throat.
The man sitting upon the ground, back upon the door, was none other then Johnny K. Gambino himself. His hair was messed up to a point where it looked like it was nearly one big tangle of hair, his face botched with caked sand and dirt, and his clothes were torn and ripped, as if something had cut the fabric into pieces. The man looked like something that would haven been pulled out of the bottom of the lake, as if he had been chased by something out there. Perhaps he had, judging by the way his eyes looked frantic and crazed to a point that Logan wished that there was someone else inside there with him at this moment other then this man.
"Are you just going to stand there or what?" Johnny snapped, glaring at Logan as he stumbled onto his feet. The other man didn't say anything, speechless at the fact that the most powerful man in Gaia was standing in front of him, looking as though he had just been dragged through the streets.
"You look like hell," Logan said after a few moments of silence as he walked from the counter and towards the man that had caused everything on the island to become chaotic. He felt the urge to kick him out of the store and lock the door, just to let the torn people from the island have a go at him. It was an urge that he had to suppress as Johnny stumbled forward, falling back down upon his knees. He still did not have his balance yet, although he had made it from the port and through the path to Bass'ken Lake with only a few stumbles. There were times in which he had to hide in the trees, so that he wouldn't face those that were going from Barton to the port and back again; somehow, the voices that belonged to the population did not seem very happy at the moment.
"I'm fine," He said through gritted teeth when Logan tried to help him up. The old man shrugged it off and turned back to the counter, now full intent on leaving him alone. If he didn't want help, he wouldn't get it. He sat down upon the ground Indian style, taking in several deep breaths as if his lungs could not produce enough oxygen for his body. It was only then that Logan saw what he had first thought was dirt before upon Johnny's brow, but now he could see it was actually blood. A line had gone down the side of his face and onto his dirty and torn clothing, long since dried from the coldness of the day. "Why is the island closed down? Why did it take me so long to get out of there?"
"Shouldn't you know?" Logan asked coldly, watching him once again. It was odd to see someone with so much riches to be torn and tattered beyond recognition. He, himself, did not recognize him at first, even with the few times that he had actually met him.
"The zombies, right?" Johnny said just as coldly, standing up once again upon wobbly legs. He stood there, as though he was testing his legs to make sure that they wouldn't fall from underneath him once again. When it seemed like they wouldn't weaken, he stepped forwards slowly, towards the counter so that he could have something to lean on upon at last. It took him ten minutes to reach the counter it should have taken him only ten seconds; once there, he lowered himself down to the glass below. At first, Logan didn't understand what he was doing at first; it was only when Johnny put a hand to his bleeding brow did he realize that he was looking at his reflection on the glass. A shocked expression came upon his face, his hand moving along the line of dried blood that went down his face and to the torn clothing that he wore. "I do look like hell."
"Aye, you do," Logan agreed, leaning against the counter with his arms lightly crossed over his chest and a smirk upon his lips. He did not want to show the amusement he got from this, but it was hard to keep it hidden from his face. Johnny pulled himself up, a scowl upon his face.
"Is there any place around here that I can take a shower at least? I need to get something else to wear and the dirt and salt water off of me. Is that too much to ask?"
"No, it's not. It's just that I don't know if there is any place except for Barton Town that has anything. I'm sure that there are a few people there might be willing to let you in." That was a lie right there and Logan wished that he hadn't as soon as he had said it. If course there was a place closer then Barton: his own home near Bass'ken Lake. But he didn't know if he was that willing to let Johnny inside his home. Would he destroy that as well?
"Might be willing? What is that supposed to mean?" He was looking defensive and angry at the same time, at the notion that he wouldn't be able to take at least a shower somewhere. Logan sighed, bowing his head down as he closed his eyes slightly.
"After last night, I don't think many people around here trust you much less let you into their home. After all, you did let a horde of zombies loose on the island, many of which bit innocent people. Countless many of those innocent people are quite possibly dead right now, if they weren't killed by that damned missile or able to be human again." Logan didn't give Johnny enough time to ask how he knew that as he pulled his copy of the newspaper from out under the candy bowl and slid it towards him. Johnny stared down at the picture that was blasting at him and remained silent, his hands balling into fists. Anger seemed to be on his side today, as he slammed a fist into the paper, what seemed like a growl coming from his throat. "That's what it says, Johnny. That's what people are saying. I can't even tell you how many people came by here, whispering about things that they should not be whispering about."
"Is there any place closer then Barton I can go so that I won't be noticed?" Johnny asked, looking up at Logan with blurry eyes. "That's all I want for a couple of days, to stay away from everything."
Logan hesitated for a moment, still willing to put this man out onto the street the way that he had come in. It was hard enough having to hold back anything that he really wanted to saw towards him, even if this man was looking as down as a man could get. He bit his lower lip, tempted to send him out into the cold air without anything but the rags that he wore. He, himself, had known what it was like to be out in the cold air without a place to go and with barely anything else; maybe that was why he didn't have the heart to kick him to the curb.
"Yes, there is. You can stay here for a couple of days, but no more," Logan said, beckoning him towards the back door of the shop. He knew he might regret it in the end, but the way that Johnny was looking it seemed like a half-good idea at the time.
Even if he looked like a lost soul that wanted to become even more lost.
Until Next Time