Blutbad Chapter 25 – The House Made of Sticks
Richard stood confidently upon the rubble that littered the ground in front of the gaping hole in the defensive wall that protected the town of Peach Creek from threat and invasion. He surveyed the diminished forces of human's and wolves that stood defiantly before him, baring his path to victory as his own forces slowly trickled their way into the town and moved into formation. The towns pack leading the charge against them as they attempted to pin them against the wall and bottle neck their reinforcements. But he would be damned if he would give up the ground that he has won, what little there was of it, "Kill them all," was his simple order and his pack sprung into action to meet their rivals on the field of battle.
And like the waters of Drakes Passage, the two sides clashed together in a storm of claw, teeth and steal in a violent attempt to bring the other side into submission. All three leaders resolved in the same plan, to lop off the head of the beast and in doing so cause the morale of their foes troops to fall. Each side had their strengths and weaknesses, the humans though disciplined and trained lacked the strength to match their wolfen foes. The Peach Creek pack members though equal in strength had led a sheltered life in comparison to their advisory and thus lacked experience. While Richards pack, though hearty in experience, lacked honed training and discipline, most of them no more than thugs blindly following orders.
This fortuitous balancing act led from a battle that should have been a one-sided slaughter into an equally pitted exchange of blows. Neither side gaining the advantage over the other as they pressed to gain ground and further their cause, trying to gain that one extra step toward victory. Each side suffered their casualties, licked their wounds and filled the gaps in their lines while trying to press what little advantage they thought they had all while trying to defend their weaknesses. The roar of battle was deafening as the sun was well passed its noonday height, beginning its slow decent toward the western horizon and the promise of night.
"Richard," Ang roared as she dived towards him claws slashing at his startled opening, aiming for his exposed neck. He barely manages to dodge the attack in time, "You monster, why couldn't you leave us in peace?"
"Oh now, come on Angie," he strikes back in full force, sending her stumbling back to avoid the attack, "It doesn't have ta be like this, old friends fightin each other, it could be like the good old days again."
"No thanks asshole," she regains her footing and counters only to be blocked.
"You know this town had its chance ta hand ove' my boy peacefully," she presses her attack further "It's their pride which has brought us here."
She dodges two attacks, "Your greed is what's brought us here," blocks a third, "I know this has nothing to do with your son," and counters landing a claw strike to his chest.
He jumps back and defends the wound to his chest, the four shallow slices bleed and the warm liquid drips down his fur covered chest and down his belly. "Good form little lady," his breathing was ragged from the exertion of battle as he winces at the sharp pain on his chest.
She takes long deep breaths trying to fill her lungs with the much needed oxygen her body craved after the hard pressed attack, "You don't even love the boy, so don't try and blame this madness on your paternal instinct."
"You're right, the boy means nothin ta me," he straights up, dropping his hand from his chest, "AS HE HAS STOLEN EVERYTHIN THAT WAS DEAR TA ME," he charges and furiously lashes out at Ang. "Killin his motha as she gave him life," strike after strike he attacks with such hate, "Takin the last bit of my heart with her."
She falls to her knees as she could not dodge or block the last two blows, getting struck across the abdomen by the first attack and then the second strike to the back as she was spun round by the force of the first blow. "You're insane to blame the boy," she breathed out in pain as she climbed to her feet once again to face her opponent.
"I've done right by him," he said with such conviction as he began to attack again keeping Ang on the defensive. "I raised him," his attack was blocked, "Fed him," she blocks again and counters, seizing her arm he twists it in an unnatural way, "And taught him how the world works."
"By teaching him to fear his own father?" The bone in her arm snaps and she screams out in pain as he still held it in a restraining position.
"Exactly, trust no one and only rely on yourself, what betta lesson could I have taught the boy?"
A sharp kick right below the knee breaks the bone in her leg bringing forth another scream of pain as she crumples to the ground. Pulling her up by the hair as her body in its weakened state has started to revert back to its human form, "Miriam wouldn't have approved," she admonished him by using his wives name against him.
"Miriam isn't here," taking the claw of his free hand he runs it across her throat slicing through her flesh, whispering in her ear as her blood spewed forth from her wound. "Don't ya dare lecture me on how ta take care of my own, when ya couldn't even protect your own flesh and blood." Releasing his grip, he drops her broken body back to the ground, a satisfied smirk upon his face as he took a moment to watch the remaining life drain from her body.
As the world faded into a blur of lights and sounds that she could now longer make heads or tails of, memories of her past replayed her mistakes. Her loving husband and their baby boy, the quiet life that they led in Lemon Brook and their peaceful home full of love. The chaos that ensued the months after the fall, as neighbor turned against neighbor as starving bellies pitted them against each other and divided the community they lived in. It was every man for themselves as people were killing each other for as simple a thing as a crust of bread or clean drinking water.
In their desperation for safety and security, her and her husband joined up with a pack that was at first savaging abandoned towns and warehouses for supplies. But with little gain from these expeditions as most of these places had already been picked clean by other groups before they could reach them, and they turned reluctantly to raiding. Their leader, an Anthony Barr, had made the decision without so much as asking the rest of the group what they had thought about it. Besting any who had dared challenged him over his decision, he had asserted his dominance over the pack as its alpha and his word was now law. Explaining his logic to the group once he had secured his control over them, he pointed out that they were faster and stronger then humans and could easily take what they needed from the towns that had somehow survived the catastrophe.
This of course did not sit well with her or her husband, but with no other options to choose from they were stuck until something better presented itself. Unfortunately, the fates are a cruel mistress and her husband would not survive the first raid he was forced to take part in, leaving her alone in the world to fend for herself and their child. And when her lot had been chosen for the next raid they would attempt, she knew that the time had come to make the difficult choice of abandoning the safety of a group, or parish attempting to take what others had worked hard to acquire.
Stealing away into the night, she ran as fast as she could to put as many miles between her and the group as she could before they would notice she had left them. Hoping that the man who had become drunk with power would let her and her child be and not follow them to force them back into the group. The final tragedy to this sad affair came a few days after their departure from the group, as she was faced with the hard choice of hiding her son in an abandoned building and hunt for food, or allow the both of them to fall to hunger.
Without her or food the boy would surely die, and being in the middle of winter fruits and berries were none existent upon the trees and nuts proved too little to sustain them. So, her only choice was to hunt for game, but she knew that she could not hunt affectively with the boy by her side. The choice was not simple but if she was lucky enough to catch a deer they would have enough food to last them some time, and hopefully see them to some place safe. The cost of this choice was more then what she had expected as she had found her boy dead when she had returned, being fed upon by the pair of zombies that had stumbled upon his hiding place.
It was not cruel enough of the gods for her to have to gaze upon the gnawed corpse of her child, but being forced to kill the thing that he had become when that corpse reanimated only a few hours later. Burying the remains, she said farewell to her son and wondered aimlessly through the forest unsure of even which way she was headed in, or of how many days had passed since she had left him. She could not tell you how she had come to the town of Peach Creek or come to be in the care of Dr. Williams and David Vincent as they nursed her back to health. David having found her collapsed on the outskirts of town as he helped gather supplies to consolidate the towns resources into one stockpile.
Her last breath leaves her body as Richard turns from her to rejoin the fray and set his sights upon claiming the head of the First Sargent. Then he could focus all his efforts into crushing what was left of the resistance that was quickly falling around him with the death of the packs elder. Noticing that the tide had turned against them, the First Sargent calls for a retreat, ordering all to regroup back at the garrison, hoping that the structure would withstand an assault until the night would finally come.