The Amulet: Homecoming Part 2

I paused a moment to clear my throat and take a sip of our dwindling water supply. It wasn't fresh, that's for sure, but boiling it (I had learned a few things from TV years ago, my friends) made enough of a difference to at least keep us from getting painfully ill. But it still tasted flat and all together harsh. But water was water... Where was I?
I took a sip and looked at Danny. His wide, cornered-doe eyes pleaded for me to continue; but the fear poorly hidden just below their shimmering surface told me that he was also quite frightened, indeed. I shrugged my shoulders; I asked if he was sure he wanted me to go on. He knew about the Amulet: everyone has at the very least seen its symbols. He nodded. I continued.

I held up the metallic disk to the waning light coming up from the open attic door. It glinted, horrifically in the dimness. Its runes played a angry rose hue across the surface that met in the blackish-rouge 'eye' in the center. There was a sickening vibration that emanated from the thing that I could feel so deeply it almost shook my bones. I was immediately revolted by it; it's shape, its feel, its antique hieroglyphics... all of it. Yet, at the same time, I was oddly attracted to it. It spoke to me. It called to me. And just then I had the overwhelming urge to throw it back in the box and never set eyes on it again. A hand touched my shoulder and I could have sworn my heart stopped.

Danny let out a yelp. It was weird because he never talked. Hadn't ever spoken word one since we'd met. But when he called out, I knew he had to be scared. I set my hand on his knee and comforted him. I smiled; even chuckled a little because I knew what was coming. It wasn't bad. Not yet.
Not yet.
I went on.

Selah stood just behind me. She burst into laughter as she obviously saw that I had turned ghostly white, and my mouth hung open; breathing like I'd just run a mile. I gathered myself, and looked her in the eye. She saw the box I had open, and asked if she could take it downstairs. I cringed a little, and took the glass of iced tea she offered. I didn't know what to say even after she asked a second time. I just stared at her, and the box, dumbfounded. I didn't know why I was hesitating; just a box with a... what? And Amulet of some kind? Why was I worried? And that's when I finally told her: Sure, go ahead and take it. It might have been the worst mistake I have ever made.

Danny hissed in his throat; ya know that sound you make when something startles you and it sounds like you're drinking really quickly from a straw? That sound. I didn't laugh this time. I think he finally understood that what I had found would eventually become why the world we know had become... the world we know.
You see it was that very Amulet that brought on the Scourge. An epic cloud of devastation that slowly, agonizingly coated everything with fixers. The fixers were like some kind of psychotropic drug; a drug so insanely powerful that everyone who ingested was 'fixed', or completely under the control of The Scourge. Then they -the very people we had come to love, and know in our daily lives- became twisted, gnarled, and feral. And they were called The Scourers. They were sent out on nightly patrols, when the sun wasn't piercing through the now unpredictable atmosphere (some days it would intensify the sunlight, others it would block it out completely and the earth would literally freeze) and the Scourers were pulsating with fixers and they would search, relentlessly for survivors. They would devour you whole, and spit back nothing but a shambling carcass of your former self. A new Scourer.
All of this because of the Amulet. The Amulet I'd let slip away.
I let Danny nestle into me, and I continued.

You see, just then I had only a vague notion of the gripping control of the Amulet. I had held it, and gazed upon it; and were it not for my precious Selah arriving just when she had... well, who knows. Worse things were yet to come, but just that minute I gripped its cloying terror in my hands... well I knew. I just knew that this thing was a culmination of every evil, vile, wretched thing imaginable. And Selah was carrying the box in which it lay right down the attic steps. As much as I knew -deep down in my soul- that I had to stop her; had to grab that box and destroy it in any way necessary, as much as I knew this: I let her go. Even then it had a hold on me that I never even conceived. It had already set into motion its own plans. As ridiculous as that sounds, and even though I had no earthly idea how it had come into my possession in the first place, the gears were were already turning. The Amulet was about to spread its disease.
She disappeared below the doorway and into the garage. And I just knew that thing was about to change hands.

Danny once again peered up at me; this time through misty eyes that had begun to run with tears. His lip quivered, and he sniffed a little. But worse yet was his trembling: he felt like a little motor, running silently but churning. He was petrified. And so was I. But I'd learned to push my fright deep down inside. I had spent years telling myself that it couldn't have been my fault; that I was only indirectly involved. I knew this, but it took a long while to accept it. Danny had just found out, and yet, even as he shuddered with horror, he didn't pull away. He didn't flip out and run screaming (I bet he could scream if he wanted to) into the night. Maybe he understood, too. I don't know.

-- To Be Continued--  

The Amulet: Homecoming

We sat shivering in the basement of the old, burned-out American National bank. A few cans of unlabeled vegetables and beans sat opened and half-eaten near our small fire. We'd managed to find what used to be a pretty good sized wok in a dumpster across the street where the Joy Fong had once stood, and now the saute pan served as a portable stove of sorts. Burning it it now was a bunch of warped chop sticks, also procured from the derelict Chinese food eatery. They seemed to burn longer after we soaked them for a bit in a soured tub of old cooking oil. Danny sat with his back against the vault wall and sighed; something he had done often after a day of scrounging and pack-ratting everything and anything we could find of value. For a boy of twelve, he had tremendous reserve and a will that nearly never quit. But it did, right around the same time every evening. And that was fine, because my forty-year old tenacity wasn't as limitless as it once was.

Danny and I met about a month earlier. I had lost my family a few years ago, to the horrors you see, and I was traveling as best I could on my own. I was lonely, of that fact there was no doubt, but I never tried too hard to find anyone else, because most of the remaining human race had either gone completely insane -thanks in part to the Fixers (I'll tell you about that another time)- or had been devoured by the horrors; the creations brought on by the Scourge of the Amulet. So, there were very few of us left. But I found Danny... or should I say Danny found me. I was kneeling, lost in thought, over a dead deer carving off good meat with a sharpened comb handle. Most of the carcass had gone off, but a bot, near the head, was still okay... provided I cooked the hell out of it. Which I'd planned to do anyway. And it seemed Danny was just as hungry as I was. He'd found the decaying animal, too. But Danny had a gun. A gun, it turned out, that wasn't loaded. But it scared me just the same.

I wanted no part of a bullet, so I dropped my tool and the meat, and Danny just scrambled up to the carved pile and began shoveling it into his mouth; no cooking necessary. I calmly told him that were he not to char the dickens out of that meat he was going to be puking up his shoes by the end of the night. I offered to build a fire and make us dinner. Danny glanced at me with fresh juice dribbling down his chin, looked at his gun that was now a few feet away (I kicked it just to be safe) and not only did he nod, but he burst into tears. I don't think he'd seen a person in a very long time. Especially a person who wasn't under the influence of The Fixers. He ran to me, clung hard, and wept into my filthy sweater. That was all it took; friends for life, we were, after that.

Danny and I had found the bank vault a few days ago. I had to chase a lady who was just lousy with The Fixers; gibbering and swollen, fistulas and pustules oozing grey liquid, her left eye dangling, forgotten, from its socket... she was a sorry mess, and wasn't long for the world. I finished her misery with a jab to the back of the head. A quick search of her meager possessions only provided a small tack hammer and a rusty bucket. But the vault was a fine place to hold up, and so Danny and I brought in much of our findings before the Scourers began their nightly hunt, and we felt relatively safe.

Danny sighed deeply again, and rubbed his eyes. I sat down beside him and rubbed his filthy hair. He smiled; his eyes deep with sorrow, regret, and an aching sadness that threatened to bring tears to my own eyes. I smiled back, and offered him a piece of a Dolly Madison snack cake we'd found a few days before. He shook his head, and mimicked opening a book with his hands. I shook my head, momentarily not quite understanding... until he did it again, this time mouthing, "story". My face lit up with recognition: Danny wanted a story! Hey, I could do that for the kid. Besides, I had quite a few. Especially since I had seen The Amulet just before it destroyed everything.

The Tale

Eight years ago, I was married to an amazing beauty named Selah with twin daughters named Joy and Faith. Yes, we were Christians and very involved in our local Church. Our friends were there, our love was there, and our lives were there. But the hand of darkness wasn't far off. But we didn't heed the warnings. We believed we were as safe as we needed to be. Even our Pastor -Paul Easton; a wonderful, if naive, man- refused to acknowledge that trouble was simmering just on the horizon. Of course, this particular trouble wasn't Biblical... it just was.

The time had come to move. Our house was just too small, and with to growing daughters and the distinct probability of more children to come, it made sense to find larger dwellings. But before the packing, it was time to part with as much of our unneeded sundries as possible, so we had a garage sale. My job was cleaning out the attic; a feat that was made all the more difficult by the fact that it hadn't been done the entire time we lived there. Eleven years of boxes just shoved up there willy-nilly. So, needless to say, I had a full weekend ahead of me. As I went through stuff, Selah would take what she deemed sale-worthy, and set it aside. The rest got thrown out. Things were going along swimmingly; we found old China, baby toys, decent clothes, shoes, books, VHS tapes, and oodles of things we no longer used. But then I found it. Deep within the recesses of the musty attic, in a box that held nothing but a moth-eaten drop cloth; it was metallic, the color of pewter, with runes strewn about the surface. I had, as far as I knew, never seen it before in my life... and I wish right now that I'd never laid eyes on it then.

-- To Be Continued --