Dan

The chilly forest drizzle slowly seeped through Dan's vest as he trudged along the narrow road toward the camp store. The earthquake had stirred up chaos, dumping branches and whole trees across his path like some sort of twisted obstacle course. Each natural barricade he scrambled over or around was a not-so-subtle reminder of the list he'd dreamed up after his time in the service.

Three Rules to Survive the Apocalypse:

#1. Stay sharp as a goddamned tack. Complacency will get you killed.

#2. Lend a hand whenever you can, next time it might be your ass on the line. Being in need could get you killed.

#3. Don't ever be a hero. That's a one-way ticket to getting yourself killed.

He dug into his vest pocket, retrieving a pack of jerky. Tearing the ziplock open, he snatched up a hefty chunk and stuffed it into his mouth whole. A small smirk crept across his face and was immediately replaced by a scowl. Barely half a day into the apocalypse and he'd already violated rule number one. That girl, Amber, had scared the living daylights out of him when she'd popped up out of the ditch. His wits were nowhere to be found in that moment. Truth be told, he'd nearly pissed himself. Not the finest example of staying sharp, but at least he had recovered quickly.

He grunted to himself, "Amber. Probably should have insisted she come along."

She was just a kid after all, but damned if that would have broken rule number three. He wasn't supposed to play the hero, plus she was better prepared than him at the moment. She'd even given him food and drink, a perfect example of rule number two. Hiding in the bushes at the sound of his approach—rule number one. She had shelter in that old Jeep as well. Yeah, she'd be alright for a while. Once he got to the camp store, he could send help back up to get her, or go back up there himself with a better grasp of the situation he'd found himself in.

"She'll be safe up there." He muttered, as if trying to convince himself that he had made the right call in continuing on without her. A seed of doubt sprouted in his mind and he paused in the road, turning to look back at the way he had come. Debris littered the broken asphalt while the tall fir trees swayed in the wind. He couldn't shake the memory of her worried voice as he had walked away.

"Dan! I have a bad feeling. Maybe you should wait too?" She'd called out to him, her voice quavering while she wrung her hands and furrowed her brows.

Had he let his toxic masculinity rear its ugly head when he'd dismissed her fear and left, telling her that it was 'Just the winds of change'?

He let out a heavy sigh. There was nothing he could do about it now; she was over an hour and a half behind him. She'd just have to hang on until he got to the camp store and then he'd figure out how to get her off the mountain.

He turned back in the direction he had been heading as the smell of earthy decay laced with sulphur floated in on the breeze and hit him square in the face. He cringed, wrinkling his nose. That stink had to be from the earthquake. With all the down trees and cracks in the ground, it was no surprise that some strange odors had taken to the air...right?

Glancing around, he quickly took note of his surroundings. To his left, a steep drop led to an icy river, while to his right, a steep incline ran up around fifty feet before the loose soil and rocks gave way to forest.

A flicker of shadowy movement on the mountainside, just inside the tree line caught his eye, and he squinted trying to see through the cloudy mist and rain. After several tense moments, he dismissed the stirring of the bushes for a wind gust and continued his march down the road, tucking the bag of jerky back into one pocket and retrieving a bottle of juice from another.

Rule number one: Stay sharp. There is no sense in flinching at shadows, they are everywhere in a forest. But that didn't mean he should brush them off either.

Dan may not be as young and spry as he once was, but he still had his health and strength, not to mention the survival knife he always carried on his belt. Genuine military surplus. He unsheathed the knife grinning at the familiar muted gleam of razor-sharp steel. It gave him a sense of security. His rifle would have made him feel even better but he hadn't taken it with him on his drive. He'd only planned to be gone from home for a couple of hours. Boy had he ever picked a shit day to go enjoy the mountains. At least his wife had the rifle for protection until he made it home.

Juice bottle in his left hand and blade in his right, he walked on. There was no need to jump at shadows, but there was also no excuse for being ill prepared either. When in doubt, whip it out. He tossed the blade lightly in his hand as he walked.

Another hour passed and he was making great time. At well over six feet tall, his lanky stride really covered ground. He was feeling rather pleased with himself, thinking how he most likely only had about another hour or so until he reached the camp store, when a swishing sound accompanied by the scratching of what could have only been claws on pavement sounded right behind him.

The smell of sulfur and rot assaulted his senses and he whirled just in time to see a shadow with teeth and claws hurtling toward him. He dropped the juice bottle and brandished his knife at the emaciated creature, but he was too late. Glowing red eyes bore into his as he and the creature crashed to the ground.

Sharp claws tore through Dan's shoulder and ribs sending waves of agony shooting through his body. The creature's yellow fangs snapped towards his throat. Every muscle in his body strained against the foul-smelling creature and ignoring the pain that burned through his body, he slashed the knife upwards and into the vulnerable hollow spot between the creature's neck and shoulder. Black blood gushed out and it howled in pain. Momentarily stunned, it released its hold only to rake its wicked claws down the left side of Dan's face. A guttural cry tore from his throat, the sound mingling with the beast's own unearthly screeches.

The creature lunged again, teeth bared and mere inches from Dan's throat, the stench of its breath all but suffocating him. He grunted and thrashed trying to hold the beast at bay, but its strength was overwhelming. Somehow during the struggle, against all odds, Dan's knife managed to find one of the creatures glowing, red eyes with a sickening squelch. It writhed in pain and released him, jumping away, dragging one front leg as it went. Silently, it disappeared back into the shadowy depths of the forest.

Dazed and bleeding profusely, Dan hauled himself to his feet and continued on, lurching down the road to the camp store. As he stumbled along, blade still in hand, he kept his gaze fixed on the forest never letting his guard down. Searing pain throbbed through his body with every frantic beat of his heart while he took a mental inventory of his injuries.

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His left arm hung limply at his side, dangling uselessly from what he suspected was a dislocated shoulder. He shakily reached across his chest with his right arm and gingerly grasped his left, just below the injury, trying to stabilize it. Warm, sticky blood oozed from the gashes across the right side of his rib cage. And his face...? It felt unnaturally cold. He was pretty sure he no longer had a left ear, and that may have been the least life threatening of his injuries. His ribs screamed with every ragged breath he took.

Probably had a couple of broken ones along with the flesh wounds. Damn-it! But even with the long list of injuries, he desperately clung to the fact that he wasn't completely FUBAR.

He needed to stop and fashion a makeshift sling for his injured arm but with that red-eyed demon creature still at large, he could not risk slowing down, not even for a moment.

What was that thing? It looked like a cross between a cougar and a dog but it had been huge and hairless; black skin stretched tight over protruding bones. Even as emaciated as the creature was, it had still handled his big ass like a rag doll. He stumbled on down the road holding to his consciousness like a life preserver. He was losing too much blood. With every step, he could feel that consciousness draining from him, a fuzzy ring around his vision and dullness in his mind. If he passed out before he made it to the camp store, he was a dead man, so he pushed on through the pain and disorientation.

The rain continued to hammer at him while his strength continued to dwindle, but finally, the camp store bobbed into view like a glowing beacon of hope. Only about a hundred yards left. He was going to make it. He had to make it.

He breathed a ragged sigh of relief but with his next breath, came the scent of sulfur and rot.

The creature came at him from the side this time, slinking out of the shadowed forest, a single malevolent, glowing eye fixed on Dan's stumbling and broken body. He prepared to make his final stand, the air thick with the creatures' stench.

The beast circled, searching for a weak spot in Dan's defenses, only a slight limp evident in its fluid stride. How had the thing healed up so quickly? It wasn't even bleeding anymore.

Locking its remaining eye on Dan's dislocated shoulder, the creature screeched and leapt. Dan watched, his world moving in slow motion, as the creature sailed for his throat. With the last vestiges of his strength, he swept the survival knife up and deep into the soft spot below the creature's jaw. They crumpled to the ground in a heap where the creature continued to flop around like a dying fish before finally laying still.

Dan dragged himself over to retrieve his knife from the monster's jaw, but the moment his fingers closed around the handle, the creature screamed again, writhing and struggling to get to its feet.

With a primal roar, he wrenched the blade out of the stinking shadow's jaw then buried it deep into the side of its head. Without a sound, the creature burst into flames.

That was it. It was finally over. Dan rolled onto his back and let the cool embrace of darkness consume him.

****************

Delirious and overcome by a fever-dreamlike state, images floated through Dan’s mind while physical sensation was something distant.

He lay face up on the ground while the rain fell on him. The echo of a low moan bounced around in his head as the blurry face of a dark-haired man floated into his line of sight. Pain shot through Dan's entire body and another echoing groan escaped his lips. Jesus, he sounded terrible to his own ears. Was he floating? The treetops swayed at the edges of his vision and his head swam then everything went dark once more.

Dan faded in and out of consciousness catching tiny bits of information as he did. There were two people tending to his injuries, a flame haired woman held him fast and stabilized his shoulder while the dark-haired man steadily and firmly tugged on his bent arm. With a soft click, his shoulder popped back into place. Dan groaned in relief and tried to thank them, but the darkness claimed him again.

When some semblance of consciousness returned, all Dan could feel was burning. The left side of his face felt like it was on fire and the sensation was mirrored in the wounds across his ribs and shoulder. He was thrashing uncontrollably and the two people struggled to keep him still while placing a cool dressing over his wounds.

"Please," Dan croaked, "What is h-happening to m-me? God, make it stop. It b-burns."

Neither one answered him and their voices sounded far away and thick with worry when they spoke to each other.

"That was a Darkling Spawn, Erik. When was the last time you saw even a trace of them in these forests?" The woman said.

"I can't remember when, it's been a long time. A very long time." The dark-haired man responded.

"You know we're too isolated out here, even with The Light dome. We're sitting ducks." The red-haired woman said, "We need to get to The Snow Forest, or to Evergreen at the very least, and there are precious few outposts between here and there. We need to move now before things get chaotic. You know we do."

The Snow Forest? What is an outpost? And what did they call that shadow with teeth? Darkling Spawn? What the Hell was going on?

Dan's thoughts thrashed as wildly as his body was. Why was he shaking so badly?

"W-what is g-going on?" Dan asked again, hoping the pair would take notice this time. "I have a w-wife and kids. I just want to g-go h-home. They need m-me." He reached out and a strong hand clasped his own.

"We're here, friend. We've got you." Erik, the dark-haired man, said. His face floated into Dan's view and he smiled a reassuring smile before turning his attention to the woman.

"Alma, we can't just let him die. It's not right. He killed that Spawn. He deserves better than this."

"It might be too late," Alma replied. "He's strong, true, but he may be too strong to simply give up the spark."

"We can save him, I know there's a risk, but if we do nothing, it could be worse." Erik said, eyes boring into Alma's.

There was a long pause before Erik continued in a huff, "Well, if you won't do it, I will. Hold him down. I'll be right back."

Erik released Dan's hand and left the room.

Alma sighed and took up Dan's hand in her own.

"Lucky for you, that male has a stubborn streak wider than the Columbia River." Shaking her head, she smoothed his sweat-damp hair back from his forehead. "You're going to be alright, friend."

"Dan. My name is D-Dan."

Alma smiled down at him, "You're gonna make it, Dan. Just hold on."

Dan's tremors continued for several minutes while they waited for Erik to return. All he knew was burning agony. Why didn’t he just pass out?

When Erik reappeared he was carrying a small mason jar filled with a thick, dark liquid.

"This is going to taste horrible and will probably give you a bit of a bellyache, but it won't last long. Just drink it all."

"W-what is it?" Dan croaked.

"An old family remedy for Spawn Poison." Erik said. The corner of his mouth quirked into a wry smile. "The poison is killing you, this is like an anti-venom."

So, he really was dying. The thought passed through Dan's mind with a chill. After all the study and practice, he wasn't even going to make it past day one of the apocalypse. What was going to happen to his wife and kids? God, were they dead already? He had to know. He couldn't just die here in a room with strangers. He had a duty and responsibility to his family and community.

He couldn't just die here!

Dan struggled to gain control of his shaking body to sit up, but all he could manage was a frustrated groan as he tried to lift his head.

"I've got you, friend." Erik said as he gently lifted Dan's head and pressed the jar to his lips.

Dan swallowed a mouthful of the viscous fluid. It coated his mouth and dropped into his gut like a nine-pound sledgehammer. His body revolted and the substance nearly came back up.

"Just breathe, Dan. Breathe. The first drink is the worst part." Alma said while smoothing back his hair. "Swallow hard and keep it down."

The moments seemed to pass like hours as his stomach roiled and the burning sensation in his body grew worse. Gradually though, the scorching pain in his wounds cooled and his tremors began to subside.

"There ya go." Erik said. "That's it. Feeling a little better now, ya?"

Dan nodded weakly and Erik pressed the jar to his lips once more. The smell of the stuff hit his nose and the thought of swallowing it again turned his stomach. He wretched. Why did it smell like wine vinegar and...blood?

"I know, it's foul, but this drink won't be nearly as bad if you can get past the smell. Trust me." Erik said. "Drink up, you got this."

Summoning some courage and strength, Dan raised a shaky hand to the other side of the jar and together he and Erik tipped it back. He sucked down the rest of whatever was in the jar and hardly tasted it. Erik was a man of his word.

As it landed in his belly, a relaxing warmth began to spread through his body. Within moments, his tremors ceased altogether and he sighed in relief.

"I don't know what that stuff is," Dan breathed, "But thank God for it. And thank God for you folks."

"Don't thank us, thank the Goddess. We're just Her messengers." Alma said solemnly. "Now try and rest, you'll be feeling better soon." She laid a comforting hand on his chest. "Sleep, Seed Child. You are protected by The Light."

As Dan began to relax, he tried to wrap his mind around what had just happened. Who were these people and how did they know so much about a creature that, by all rights, shouldn't even exist? He supposed he could think more on that later. His mind was foggy and sleep was quickly creeping in to claim his consciousness. The last thing he remembered before he slipped off to sleep was Erik gently laying his head back on a rolled-up towel.

*************

Dan woke as the gray, early morning light was peeking through the windows of the camp store. He gingerly took stock of himself and his surroundings. He had been laid out on a pile of sleeping bags near the register.

Miraculously, his head was clear and he felt strong, almost invigorated. He slowly sat up, waiting for his world to start spinning and when nothing happened, he ran cautious hands over his bare arms, chest and face. He had been washed, all remnants of that shadow's black blood and his own were gone, and clean, white dressings covered his ribs and shoulder.

Surprisingly, he felt no pain at all other than a lingering, dull ache in his ribs and left ear.

His brows climbed up toward his receding hairline and his hand shot back to the side of his head.

Holy shit. He had an ear!