Henry2

He sat in the pew of the quiet deserted church. Henry stared up at the stained glass. The glass was broken 20 feet above the floor. A large hole allowed sunlight to enter from above. The image was that of Jesus in a white flowing robe holding out his hand to a small child. The hole the size of a basketball was right were Jesus’ head would have been. It appeared to have been broken from the inside.
Around Henry a heavy layer of dust coated the benches of the pew. The only light that showed in was from the hole in Jesus’ head. He tried to remember the last time he had sat in a church and prayed. He could not remember a time since he was a small child. He wondered if he prayed now if it would make any difference. Or, was this what things had come to, was god as dead as Jesus appeared with the hole in his head. Was this a sign of the world today? Had the apocalypse arrived? And if so why had God chosen him to live.
Henry needed to find something to eat. His stomach ached. His head hurt. The gash in his arm oozed with infectious puss. He could smell the stench of his own body. He could feel the earth’s dirt and grime on every part of his body. He closed his eyes for a moment. All he could see was the images of Shelly being ripped apart and eaten. He could hear her screams in his mind. They seemed so very real. Again.
Henry walked to the broken door. He noticed the top hinge was broken the bottom hinge was still attached. He picked up the door and tried to open it. Suddenly with a loud crash the door fell to the floor causing a cloud of dust to rise from the debris.
He looked outside into the day. Henry thought, I must travel to the lake. Today maybe he could catch some fish or find something to eat near the lake’s edge.
Henry stepped over the fallen door and walked down toward the lake. He kept a keen eye on the sky. He knew at any minute black vultures could come down on him. He felt somewhat safer here in the clearing. He knew here he could likely see the beasts coming and get a shot off before he was ripped apart. He held his pistol firmly in his hand.
The path flowed down the hillside thru a grassy plain, turned into a thinly wooded area then back to the waters edge.
Henry hastily gulped down three handfuls of water. He looked around at the ground for something to eat; a bug, a flower, weed anything that might be edible. Finding nothing he sat by the water’s edge under a large tree. He leaned back trying to relax a bit. A cooling breeze blew across the lake. A smell of pine from across the lake drifted over. Then another smell, a strange smell; a smell of man.
Henry’s eyes darted open as he instinctively rolled jumping for cover. He landed behind a large log which was behind a boulder.
Henry waited. The smell still lingered but he could not see any sings of any other humans around. He waited. Some nearby bushes and cattails swayed in the summer breeze he could not see anything to be alarmed over. He slowly rose out of hiding and tried to catch from which direction the scent was coming from. He carefully walked into the wind. He heard a sound in the distance, a sound of sobbing. As he got closer he noticed a person sitting by the edge of the lake. It was a young woman in her late twenties. She was crying. Her clothes were torn and dirty. Her long brown hair was a nest of tangles and knots.
She continued to sob as Henry studied her at a distance. He saw in her hand what appeared to be a knife. He caught a glimpse of fresh bloodstains on her shirt and jeans. She raised the knife with a loud cry and instantly stabbed herself in the thigh.
Henry stepped closer coming out in the open. He waited a moment till she noticed him.
Upon seeing Henry the girl screamed a loud-piercing screech. She tried to run but her legs were no longer operational. She fell into the grass then turned to point the blade toward Henry. Her screaming was replaced by a look of pure terror. Her eyes were as wide as saucers. They were dark brown and red from crying. She trembled as she stared at Henry.
Henry tucked his pistol away in his belt. “It’s O.K. I won’t hurt you.” Henry said as he approached closer. He noticed she was badly wounded. Her legs were slashed through the muscle and she was bleeding profusely. She was going to die if he didn’t help her.
Henry slowly walked to her. She trembled more at every step Henry took. Then when Henry was nearly beside her she collapsed. Her hand came open and the knife fell helplessly to the ground.
Henry worked quickly to stop the bleeding. He used his last bit of rum to clean the wounds and his shirt to dress them. She was breathing. She would likely live.
He started to get the shakes. He needed more rum now.
Henry went to the water and cleaned his hands of her blood. The water was warm and inviting.

After bathing, Henry dressed back into his dirty jeans and blown out shoes. He needed to find some new clothes. He needed more rum. He thought briefly about leaving the woman here. He thought about heading to the village and scavaging through the charred ruins. Someone there probably had a bottle stashed somewhere. He might even find some clothes that weren’t to badly burned.
The vultures would likely be there. They would be waiting silently there for their human lunch. He could not take that chance not now anyhow.
As for this woman she would just be a burden on him. He could tell that she was probably a woman of education and class before the war. The kind of woman that would whine and cry at every step she took. “Oh I can’t go any further, my feet hurt.” She would likely scream at the first sight of a bug crawling on her in the night. And why was she stabbing herself for anyways. No this one was a psycho whiny bitch. He did not want her around. She could get a man like him killed.
But she had such elegant features under the dirt, blood and dried tears. He decided he would stay with her till she was well enough to travel on her own. Or till they came, then she was on her own!
After finding some small edible herbs, Henry built a small fire to make some tea that would help her. He covered her in a blanket of pine needles and leaves to protect her. The sun was setting now and Henry extinguished the fire not to alert any wonderers of their presence. Long into the night he kept an eye on her occasionally administering more of the tea concoctions. The moon showed brightly this night and there was not a cloud in the sky. Her raspy breathe was the only sound in the night. Late in the night Henry’s eyes became heavy and sleep over took him. He really needed a drink was his last thoughts before the sand man came.
As the sun came up Henry was awaken by a loud scream. He jumped up only to find the psycho attempting to run away. Her legs were still to weak to run. She made a few yards then stumbled into the ground screaming.
“ Are you trying to get us both killed ya crazy dumb bitch.” Henry graveled as he walked toward her.
She started searching herself franticly. “ Is this what you are looking for?” Henry said as he pulled the knife from his belt.
She stared in shock for a moment then she turned her head to the side as not to see Henry “then leave me alone” She said as she pulled down her dressing revealing her most private parts.
“If I wanted that I would have taken it last night.” Henry smirked. “Now put your dressing back on before you start bleeding again”
Her look turned from one of terror to confusion. “Is this yours?” she said noticing his ripped-up shirt dressed around her legs.
“I cleaned you up some and tried to see to it that you would not die.” Henry replied
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?” Henry said
“I mean, why do you care if I live or die?” She stared into the ground as she spoke.
“I don’t.” Henry grabbed his pack and picked up his tin cup, tossing the remaining contents on the ground. “You can die for all I care.”
Henry walked a few yards away before she stopped him “Thank you” she said just barely loud enough to hear.
Henry turned around, “your welcome” He paused for a moment how could he leave her alone when she could not even walk. He could hear her starting to cry again. “Oh god what am I getting myself into” he thought to himself as he walked back to her.
She was sobbing loudly now. “ssshh” Henry said as he put his arm around her. “Do you want the whole world to hear you?”
She grunted as she lightly elbowed Henry and turned away from him. “Why did you save me?” she asked.
“I don’t know I just did.” Henry now moved around to face her. “What were you hurting yourself for?” he asked.
“None of your business” she stated. She turned her head as not to face him again.
“I saved your life. I think you owe me an explanation anyways.” Henry said flatly
“Why do you think? Maybe I want to die!” she screamed
“Quiet down, there are things out here that will kill you and me both” Henry faced her again “ And I for one don’t want to be dead”
She looked down and wiped some tears from her face.
“ Now can you stand?” Henry asked
“ I don’t think so” she said between deep breaths.
“Here then I have to carry you to someplace safer” Henry said
“ But your arm. You are hurt too” she stared at the blackish infection around his arm.
“ its not too bad, I’m getting used to it”
“ it looks disgusting” she said
Henry looked at her as in disbelief. Could he be hearing this crazy bitch right. She was no picnic herself right now.
Together with her arm around his shoulders they headed back toward the church. The day was becoming unbearably hot again by the time they made it back to the church. Henry kicked the broken door out of the way and carried her over a far bench. By this time she was exhausted again. She collapsed on the bench barely awake.
“so what is your name anyways?” Henry asked
“Alyza” she softly said
“ well Alyza, I’ll try to find something to dress your wounds again” Henry said as he walked around to a door that led to the only other room in the small church. What he really hoped to find was some rum. He opened the door to what was at one time the reverend’s office. Henry looked around for any bottles or rags clean enough. Finally underneath some old boxes he found an old torn shirt in a closet
Alza was asleep on the bench when he returned. He dressed her wounds again. Then returned looking for something to drink. Finding nothing,. He realized he had to take a chance and head into the village. He started to get the shakes again.
He stood in the doorway starring out.





In the village the vultures roamed. There were a dozen or so large, eight to ten foot tall, creatures with large black wings. Some walked upright around the charred remains of the buildings some flew above. All had the fasial features of a bird with dull grayish silver beaks and dull black eyes. They had the torso and legs of a human and had short stubby hands with razor sharp claws. They were as black as a crow and as mean as a stuck pig. Some still wore scraps of human flesh in their fathers. Some still had the blood stains on their beaks.
While others still searched the smoldering rubble for a finger, toe anything fleshy. One smaller vulture set in a secluded corner behind a dumpster pecking at what was once the tail of a dog. Soft chirps could be heard thru out the ruins of the village.
Inside one of the few remaining buildings was man or something close to a man. His black skin was slick like that of new leather. His red eyes glowed fiercely under his black feathered hair. “What is the count Fredula” he asked one very large vulture standing nearby.
“We have 78 human children Sir” Fredula hissed “ There is 35 boys and 43 girls” he continued to hiss. “ wee only have room to store forty total sir”
“ I will come out shortly then and select which ones to process immediately” Irapenna stated coldly.
“ Thank you general Irapenna.” Fredula lowered his head and walked out quietly.
If only he could keep more of these humans alive. He hated wasting good meat. Irapenna thought to himself. If their was just a way to keep them alive till the trade train came he might be able to get something for the better looking children. He knew their was no way to do that. Once a few died their diseases could spread quickly then he would be in risk of losing them all. These human children were such fragile creatures. He must get the good ones to a cleaner place and process the meat from the others as soon as possible.