Lazarus grabbed his still damp supplies and walked away from the decapitated dead man hanging with all the rods sticking out from him. He needed some space away from that display of carnage. He was not in a dreamland anymore, but a nightmarish land of creatures and magic. He tried to understand what was happening. He needed some water because he thought he was dehydrated or coming down with a fever. None of this could be happening. He should be at his desk, in his cubicle, looking at his spreadsheets.
He thought about his parents. His dad was a retired bookkeeper who loved reading mysteries and his mom was a school teacher who still taught her adolescent seventh gradeclass. She never wanted to retire. But she was being forced to next year, by the principal of her school. Then he realized they were not here anymore. If the tidal wave came this far inland, their house would have been engulfed by water and his parents would have drowned. His dad would have been in his large reclining chair in his house and his mom would have been teaching down the street at her school. Tears sprang to his eyes. If he had known this was going to happen maybe he could have saved them. He shook his head.
He had no destination and was walking around listlessly. He noticed the bracelet was still attached to his right wrist, sparkling in the sun. Looking at the opal stone he relaxed as if everything was going to be fine. The local police or firemen would be here and save him. Then something leaped in front of him, but there was nothing there, at least nothing physical. It was a picture, similar to that on a TV screen. He saw a large man dressed in a hospital gown walking toward him. The vision disappeared. There was another survivor and he needed to find this person. The opal glowed faintly. He turned to the side and it shone brighter. Lazarus needed to go in that direction.
He wondered who this man was, and why he looked like he had been on the streets for a long time. Lazarus also felt he needed some type of weapon but didn't know what or where to find one. He started to move quickly out of the area, picking his way to an area that looked like a road. He couldn't find any street names or landmarks. Everything was smashed. He wished he could find a jeep or a truck. It would take a long time to find this man on foot. He placed his hand on his head and a thought came to him. The man's name was Matthew and he needed to reach him. This man, Matthew, knew things.
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Another vision came to him, showing two women. He knew one of them. It was Cindy, his old friend from high school, but the other was a stranger like Matthew. Her name was Grace. They had to do something important. It was The Calling and he was not sure what that meant.
He stopped walking as doubts formed in his mind. He was not a man of action. He should wait in a safe area for the proper authorities to come to rescue him. Behind him, he heard something moving in the debris and wet, broken interiors. The sound of howling pierced the area and another animal howled back. A large creature covered in brown and black fur walked in front of him. It stood on four legs and was as tall as he was. The creature padded closer to him. Before it growled, the creature said, "Grog, grog!"
Lazarus started to step backwards and then he heard another growl coming from behind him. He turned around and saw several of the Grog creatures. They surrounded him.
The beasts all started to run at him. Lazarus tripped, and fell, scraping his hands. The Grog jumped at him. Lazarus placed his hands upwards in a defensive posture and as he did so he felt a surge of energy. It blasted out of him, hitting the Grog. The creature was thrown far away from him.
Lazarus shook his head in amazement. He stood and surveyed the area. The Grogs stopped attacking him, but walked around him with wary feral eyes. He held his hands up toward the creatures. The Grogs, fearing him, moved away from his outstretched hands. Lazarus wasn't sure if he could create this energy push again. He walked with bravado out of the area, searching for some place to hide and get away from these Grogs. They followed close behind him. A howl was heard at a far distance and the Grogs turned to the noise and bounded off for easier prey.
Lazarus watched the creatures disappear. He looked at his hands. He didn't feel any different, but when he had the surge of power he felt powerful and strong. It was as if this energy was dormant in him since he was a child. Staring at a large piece of broken concrete he focused on it and held out his hand.
Lazarus felt the surge of power again, but it was stronger. The rock burst into shards of powder and dust. He almost fell down in shock. This was something new and exciting, but also a little scary. He wondered what else he could do, but decided to leave this place before the creatures came back. The sun was setting on the horizon and he needed to find some shelter and food.
The backpack he carried had several cans of food: spaghetti, spam and vegetable beef soup. He wished he had a can opener and a pan to cook with. Lazarus was never a Boy Scout and never learned to live in the forest. Yet this was not the wild but a devastated world.