The Last Savior Read online

  The Last Savior

  Dane Hatchell

  This story is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2014 Dane Hatchell

  Cover Copyright © P.A. Douglas

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this story may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

  From Severed PRESS

  Other Titles Available from the Author

  Resurrection X: Zombie Evolution

  A Gentleman’s Privilege: Zombies in the Old South

  A Werewolf in our Midst

  Apocalypse³

  Club Dead: Zombie Isle

  Dead Coup d'État

  Dreaming of an Undead Christmas

  It Came from Black Swamp

  Lord of the Flies: A Zombie Story

  Love Prevails: A Zombie Nightmare

  Pheromone and Rotten

  Red Rain

  Soul Mates

  The Garden of Fear

  The Turning of Dick Condon

  Time and Tide: A Fractured Fairy Tale

  Two Big Foot Tales

  Two Demented Fish Tales

  Zombies of Iwo Jima

  Zombie God of the Jungle

  Zombie’s Honor

  The Last Savior

  It had been two years since a coronal mass ejection from the sun reached out and slapped the Earth. The solar plasma charged the magnetosphere with trillions of watts of power. The Earth’s natural defenses weren’t strong enough to protect the electronic age that had revolutionized the progression of civilization.

  The cosmic particles from the solar storm took out the communication satellites first. The surge of energy overwhelmed nearly every electronic component. Integrated circuits smoked, transistors melted, and capacitors popped. As devastating as it was to lose every computer, every vehicle, and every power plant; it was the resulting fires that set mankind on the path to extinction. The electrical wiring in every house and every building heated past the point of melting its insulation, enough to burst into flames. The sky turned black with smoke, and millions of pounds of toxic waste filled the air and spread over the Earth.

  The death toll that day and over the next two years had amounted to billions. A fact that remained unknown to those who remained. Man was a dying species but had no way of even knowing it.

  Thadious Cain was one man who believed God was responsible for the destruction of the Earth and had deliberately turned His back on mankind.

  Cain had been raised by his mother with only the Lord to serve as a surrogate father. The two were very devout in their faith and studied the scriptures daily. Not long after Cain’s sixteenth birthday his mother passed away. He was forced to make it on his own until he was old enough to enlist in the military and joined with the Sixty-Eight W(hiskey) branch of the Army. He was deployed as a combat medic. His years in the Army shaped him into the man he was today. After four tours in Afghanistan, he retired from service and became Youth Minister at Faith Baptist Church.

  ‘The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.’ Scriptures continually flowed through Cain’s thoughts to guide him.

  When the solar storm hit, Cain had been away in personal meditation in a cabin near a state park owned by the church. After the sky lit up and his truck caught fire, he fully expected the heavens to open and see Jesus riding in on a white horse. Surely the Kingdom of God was at hand. But nothing of the sort happened. No signs came down from the heavens. Only black smoke rising from the ravaging fires on Earth.

  Cain returned to a world of chard remains and ash. The devastation he had witnessed was far greater than anything he had seen in war. Civilization as he knew it was gone—erased in the blink on an eye. He had been devoted to a kind and loving God and now this was his reward.

  ‘For of him, and through him, and to him, are all things.’

  ‘All things,’ Cain thought. God had done this deliberately.

  Cain was angry. He was angry at God. Every fire he passed was an unrepentant sacrifice of God’s greatest creation: man. Those fires incinerated any subservience Cain’s soul felt toward his once loving but now fearful Master.

  What was the point of all this destruction? Was life on Earth just some sort of experiment to see how the ‘ant nest’ survived a crushing boot?

  ‘And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God’.

  Bullshit! There was no good anymore. There was no evil anymore. There was only right and wrong.

  Cain knew the difference between right and wrong, but he believed that God had forgotten. And if God did still understand the difference, He certainly wasn’t concerned about doing ‘right’ anymore.

  Cain knew that his time and the time for man was short. His self-determined mission would be to escort mankind into extinction with love and dignity.

  ‘He shall feed his flock like a shepherd: he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young.’

  And that is exactly what Cain had been doing over the months. Wandering the highways of man and herding ‘the sheep.’

  Cain had been heading north for several days, and figured himself to be somewhere in western Kentucky. His Australian Cattle Dog, Jackson, trotted by his side. The dog was the only living memory of his connection with the past.

  The two lane highway was sparsely populated with burned vehicles, a sight often seen on roads seldom traveled. Grass intruded onto the asphalt, and decaying leaves piled undisturbed along the sides of the road.

  A snake bite to his left calf a year before had left him with a slight limp. The snake wasn’t poisonous, but the bacteria from the bite damaged nerves and muscle. It was with the aid of a staff in the form of a wooden baseball bat that he made his trek down the highway. His protection came from two Colt 1911 .45 caliber pistols, each holstered cocked and locked on his side.

  The sun signaled it was midday. A group of hickory trees not far off the road looked inviting to the weary traveler. The temperatures were unusually warm for the time of year. It had been even hotter last year, but no one had the luxury to worry about global warming anymore. Cain changed direction and headed for the trees. Jackson followed closely behind.

  As they approached the trees, the terrain started to slope. Cain heard flowing water and followed its song to find a fast running spring.

  He was surprised to see a young man lying on his back near the spring’s edge. The man was motionless. His eyes were closed, and his shirt covered with blood.

  Cain approached with caution. The young man was oblivious to his presence.

  “Hello, my brother. Don’t be afraid. You aren’t alone. I’m here to help you,” Cain said.

  The man opened his eyes to a squint and attempted to prop himself on his right elbow. Flies danced over his blood drenched clothing while gnats swarmed around his face and head.

  “My name is Cain. When were you injured?”

  “Sanchez . . . I’m Sanchez . . . it happened yesterday. I was with another couple. We had been traveling together for about a month.” Sanchez paused and wet his lips with his tongue. “The guy didn’t like the way his wife was looking at me. We fought. I lost.”

  “Let me take a look at you. I’m a medic.”

  Sanchez was too weak to protest. He returned his back to the ground and shielded his eyes from the sun with his forearm.

  Cain unbuttoned the bottom half of Sanchez’s shirt and carefully pe
eled it back. He had an open injury. A nasty knife wound had torn open the abdomen, allowing part of the bowels to protrude externally.

  “How bad is it, Doc?”

  “Bad enough. I’ll clean you up the best I can, and then I’ll try to get you put back together. It’s in God’s hands after that,” Cain lied.

  “Doc, you got anything to eat? I’m starving.”

  “I believe I have something you will like.” Cain removed his pack and searched for a special can. Jackson wandered over and gave Sanchez the full sniff treatment, startling him with a lick to his face.

  “Hey, Doc. Who’s this?” Sanchez smiled and reached out to pet the dog.

  “That’s, Jackson. Here, how do canned peaches sound?” Cain popped the top of the can and helped Sanchez sit up. Sanchez drank the syrup first and then tilted the can further back, and ate the tender slices of fruit.

  “Man, that was good. I haven’t had peaches in over a year. They’re my favorite.” Sanchez laid back down, acting somewhat revitalized. “Thanks, Doc. I don’t know how I’m going to repay you. This world has gone so crazy. You don’t meet good men anymore.”

  “My friend, I have but one purpose left in life, and that is to help all those that are in need.” Cain paused, then said,” Love is patient, love is kind, bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things, if I have not love, I am nothing.”

  “That’s beautiful. Is that from the Bible? I’m Catholic, you know.” Sanchez adjusted the chain around his neck showing a St. Christopher medal.

  “It was,” Cain said softly.

  “Okay, Doc. I’m feeling stronger now. Go ahead and put me back together.” Sanchez reached out and put his hand on Cain’s forearm and gave it a slight squeeze. “Doc, you’re an angel.”

  Cain smiled reassuringly.

  He then unsnapped his right holster and pulled out the .45, pointed between Sanchez’s panic stricken eyes, and pulled the trigger. Jackson yelped as the explosion sent birds flying from the tall grasses by the spring.

  The bullet left a hole the size of a silver dollar in the front and blew out a crater the size of a cantaloupe in the rear. Sanchez’s eyes were now devoid of life and pain.

  Cain looked up at the sky. “See? It’s over. Just like that. No need for that poor man to suffer. How long would it have taken you to kill him? A few more hours? A few more days? Well, don’t worry. I took care of him. I gave him peace.”

  Cain put the .45 in its holster, and reached into his pack and pulled out a folding shovel. The earth was soft by the water. It didn’t take very long to dig a shallow grave. ‘Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.’

  * * *

  Two days had passed as Cain continued heading north. He didn’t give his direction much thought, as he trusted in the spirit to lead him. Along his two year journey, he had changed the lives of the many that he met. He preserved their humanity and helped them die with dignity.

  A limestone road branched off the main highway leading to a river. The road was fairly straight. He could barely see a large burned building through the trees and a larger covered structure of some sort. There were people by the structure.

  “Well, Jackson, it looks like we’ve found a new home.”

  Jackson looked up and tilted his head. Cain started his walk down the road. Jackson put his nose to the ground and found just the right spot, lifted his leg, and peed. He scratched the ground in satisfaction and then chased after his master.

  One side of the burned building faced the river. Remnants of an ancient water wheel made it evident it had been a Sawmill. A blackened diesel generator stood near it.

  A huge structure set not far. It had a metal roof and stood over twenty feet tall. It was over a hundred feet wide and at least fifty feet deep. It resembled a monstrous pole barn, not having any walls on the outside. It had piles of rough cut lumber scattered about crudely built cabins.

  Cain was fifty yards away from the structure when his thoughts were interrupted by a series of whistles. The ‘red alert’ had been sound. A man shouted, “Hey! We got a loner!”

  Cain stopped and ordered Jackson to sit. He raised his right hand as if he was surrendering and supported his weight on the bat with the other.

  Two men came running into view. Each carried a rifle. Cain remained still, showing a friendly smile. The two men slowed as they neared and came to a complete stop when they got to within a few feet. Each man kept their rifles pointing to the ground, but Cain knew they could be raised and fired in a brief moment.

  “What you doing here?” The man that asked was taller than Cain. His hair was shaggy and sandy blond in color.

  “I was traveling the highway. I saw this road led to a river, and then I saw people. I came to offer you my assistance.”

  “Your assistance? Why would you think we need your help? I think it’s more like you’re looking for something to steal,” this said from a balding man with a thick, red beard.

  “Friend, God has sent me forth in these wicked times to sow the seeds of His love. Some of the seeds fall on bad ground and God’s love does not grow. Some of the seeds fall on fertile ground and the people harvest all that God has to offer. He who has ears to hear, let them hear.”

  “Are you some kind of nut-ball preacher? We don’t need no preacher,” the man with the beard said.

  “I am a healer,” Cain said softly.

  “A healer? Like those televangelist used to do? You gonna touch us on the head and we gonna fall down healed? I don’t think so,” blond hair chuckled.

  “My words heal to those who listen. But my hands heal also.” Cain paused, then said, “Sergeant First Class Thadious B. Cain, combat medic 68 W United States Army.” Cain offered his right hand in friendship.

  The two men looked at each other. The blonde haired man said, “You a doctor?”

  “I’m as close to a doctor as you can be without having a piece of paper from a University that says so.” Cain’s hand remained hanging in empty air.

  “Sam, we can use a doctor. Jeffery’s wife is in labor, and she ain’t doing too good,” the blonde haired man said.

  “I don’t see how we have much choice, Bill. Mary needs a doctor real bad.” Sam turned to Cain. “All right, you can come with us. But you’re going to have to give up your pistols.”

  Cain smiled, and slowly removed his backpack and placed it on the ground in front of him. The two men raised their rifle barrels his way. He stooped and opened the pack. “My guns can do no harm if I keep them in here.” Cain slowly pulled the .45s from their holsters and put them in the pack, then zipped it up. “There. No harm. Please bring me to the woman in need.”

  The two men looked at each other and then lowered their weapons. “That dog, we don’t have food for no dog,” Sam said, nodding his head in the direction of Jackson.

  “The dog takes care of himself.” Cain looked down. “Don’t you, Jackson?” The dog lifted his front legs and placed them on Cain’s waist. Cain patted his head while Jackson bumped Cain’s hand with his nose.

  As the four walked to the structure Bill had referred to simply as ‘the barn,’ the people gathered to meet the new stranger.

  There were five children playing close to the river. Their ages ranged between five and ten years old. Four men, five women, and one child formed a crooked line between the children at play and Cain. Cain thought the bunch looked relatively healthy, but their faces were tired and scarred from the harsh judgments of God.

  Cain walked up and purposely looked each one directly in the eye, and gave them a smile and a nod. Cain knew that, ‘The eyes are the window of the soul.’ And he wanted to show them all the love that he had to offer.

  “Hello. My name is, Cain. This is my dog, Jackson.” The adults stood stiffly, with accusing stares, and in silence. But when the children by the river saw the dog, they ended their game and ran and hid behind their parents.

  “He’s a doctor. We’re going to take him to see Mary,” Bill said.


  Sighs of relief went out. The tension of the crowd seemed to dissipate.

  ”A doctor? Praise God!” A women spoke out.

  “Indeed. Praise the Lord!” answered Cain. His gaze drifted across the faces once again. His pale green eyes were penetrating but projected a feeling of trust. The one child that had not been playing was standing next to who he guessed was her father. She was partially hiding behind his right leg, peering around the outside of his thigh. Cain believed she was the youngest of the bunch.

  Was she just shy? Perhaps, but there was something not right. Cain could sense it. There were signs that his trauma training had taught him. She was continually scratching herself between her legs. She either had an infection or some type of irritation. One of her arms was casually looped around her father’s inner thigh. It was too personal—too familiar for normal contact between an adult and a child.

  The father saw Cain had fixated his attention to this, and quickly moved her arm and held her hand.

  “Hey, is your dog friendly?” One of the boys asked.

  “Why yes, and he just loves to play. Parents?”

  The parents voiced their approval, and the children all gathered to pet the dog. After giving him a good petting, they ran off to play with Jackson trailing them in hot pursuit.

  “Let’s go see Mary.” Sam grabbed Cain by the arm and led him under the shade of the barn. The barn had not been wired for electricity, and thus was unaffected from the solar event. The cabin Mary was in faced the river. The makeshift door was open to allow natural light in.

  Mary panted heavily and moaned in pain. Sam gave a knock on the door and the three entered the room. Jeffery, her husband, held her hand with an expression of dread tightening his face.

  “Jeffery, this is Cain. He’s a doctor, and he’s here to help Mary,” Sam said.

  “A doctor! Thank God! Please help her, Doc. She’s in so much pain,” Jeffery said, desperate hope in his voice.

  “How long has she been in labor?” Cain asked.

  “Almost twenty-four hours.”

  “Not good. That’s not good.” Cain moved to the woman’s side and held her other hand. “Mary, how are you holding up?”