Matthew scanned the scene of devastation. He had a crazy ride inside a magical bubble. Waves of water pummeled him as he rode. He looked at the ring on his finger. It started to pulsate with a white luminescence and he realized he had to find somebody. From his vantage point he saw a group of large feral wolves roaming around broken and now dead buildings. The creatures spoke an odd word over and over, "Grog, grog!"

The animals didn't bother him because there were plenty of dead people to devour. Matthew had to find a weapon. He walked down a broken ramp, picking his way across the ripped and torn ground. Waves of evaporating water were seen in the air. The scent of salt water, dead people and something else, a predatory musk, was strong in his nose.

Matthew bent low to the ground, sticking close to any high debris or brick walls. All the buildings were smashed as if the hand of God had come trumpeting along the city, smashingand thrashing. He was looking for a sporting goods store for weapons and supplies.

Matthew still wore his hospital gown and even though he was half dressed the sun gave him warmth. Living on the streets gave him tough skin and rough hands. Luckily, he found a pair of sneakers that fit him from a dead man a few streets back. He kept moving, roving between the large chunks of ripped and torn asphalt and cement. Stopping, he saw several dead people with blood seeping on the ground. It was a family - a mom, dad and child. They must have been caught in the typhoon. They were wet and had their arms, legs and bodies contorted at odd angles. The child was still holding her mom's hand. He looked at them for several seconds. Matthew knew he should leave before the Grogs came here to feast, but the look of sudden terror on their face made him wonder why he was spared. The earth's magical lifeblood and essence were finally spilled and released into the world. He should be dead.

He had been receiving dreams from the Druids about the arcane Bastions, the storehouse of magic, for several years now. Matthew never liked taking his medicine because it blocked his visions and dreams. Nobody believed him, but now it was all coming true. Matthew tore his eyes away from the dead people.

He roamed along a street he thought he recognized, but was not sure. Matthew thought he was in the downtown Los Angeles garment district. The tall buildings were all half broken with high metal spires jutting into the sky. His robe whipped in the wind. He thought that if he was alive and saved by the magical sphere, he must be one of the chosen. Matthew felt the calling tugging him to find the man who would be their Leader. He was far away, but he would find him. This man was in danger and did not know his true potential. He had seen him in his visions. An older man with peppered hair.

Matthew also felt the magic flowing in his body. He needed to learn his powers. Lifting his hands, he held out his palm, focusing his mind. Nothing happened at first, then a small ball of fire appeared. He held onto the flame until his mind hurt. He stopped and the ball of fire disappeared. It was a start.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

***

After searching a few blocks Matthew found a street filled with clothes spilled all over the ground. Everything was wet and drying in the sun. Also, among the clothes was money and coins. He laughed. In this new world, money didn't amount to anything. He begged strangers for these scraps of paper money and coins for years and now he could have filled bags of them. Matthew shook his head. He recalled a writer had said, "All that glitters is not gold." He mused, thinking he was not always a knight errant, but a teacher. Yet he was not sure what he taught.

He found several pairs of jeans, shirts and shoes. Sitting on an overturned table he checked his drying supplies. His stomach started to rumble. He needed to eat. Everything was inedible because the water spoiled all the food he found. He almost entered a destroyed fast food restaurant with a big M in the front, but he was scared of gas. Also, he remembered being run off by the manager of an establishment such as this because he begged for food in the front. Yet his hunger pains made him search for this place again, but he was turnedaround and found a small liquor store with windows covered in metal grating that was now all broken and bent. He entered and found the owner, dead, behind the ripped and broken counter.

He grabbed a potato-chip bag and opened it. The food was not spoiled and he ate it by shoveling the chips into his food. He felt for his beard, but the nurses at the hospital must have shaved it.

The store had the stink of the ocean and water pooled along the ground. Food and drinks were strewn on the floor and Matthew grabbed a soda and drank it. The drink was lukewarm but it tasted good. He finished it off and was about to grab a candy bar when he saw a handgun among the debris. It must have been the shop owners. He grabbed the weapon and held it close to him although he knew the dangers of using it. It was cold in his hands and water dripped from its muzzle and grip. It was small and fit well in the palm of his hand. He would only use it if needed, and only to scare the Grogs away.

He went toward the back of the cash register and looked around. The paper bags were useless, drenched with water and falling apart, but he found a bunch of white plastic bags in a corner. He grabbed them and fanned one open. Beads of waters splashed all around. This will do, he thought.

Grabbing all the food he could find, he stuffed it into the bag, before turning toward the dead man. He thought he heard the man yelling for him to leave. Many angry store owners had chased him out of their back alleys and front doors, but this man was mute.

Being a bum made him a pariah, a non-person in front of everybody. A girl who could have been his daughter saw him once when he was lying in the park. She wanted to give him some change, but her mom grabbed her and took her away from him. Matthew was used to people reacting like that to him. Those people were right, after all. He was a dangerous person.

Matthew grabbed his goods and went back to retrieve his clothes, still drying in the sun.