Chapter 37
Thirty-Eight Years Post Apocalypse
Stacy
Stacy woke up in a small, dimly lit room with plain brown walls. Two old men wearing dragon decorated robes were watching her. Normally being alone in a strange room with two old men would be one of those creepy-stranger-danger situations her parents had warned her about, but she still had her guns, and the two old men looked tired and frail. Like a strong breeze could finish them off.
“Where am I?” she asked. She felt okay, but when she sat up in bed, her blood-stained armor fell apart. “What happened?” She pulled up the old men's displays. One of them was a healer. “I was hurt, wasn't I?”
The two men looked at each other. “What do you remember?” the healer asked.
She tried to think back. She'd been stuck in the Fortress feeling cooped up. Dad wouldn't let her leave because it was dangerous. Her brothers were about to do something crazy, but that was normal. And then?
Stacy shook her head. “I don't know. What happened?”
“You were badly hurt,” the healer said. “Badly enough so that regen shots weren't going to cut it. But me and my brother never gave up. It took us a while, but we found your cure. You should be as good as new now.”
Something about the two old men looked familiar, but she couldn't place it. She got to her feet, pulled out her guns, examined them, then put them back in their holsters.
“There's a bathroom and shower through that door.” The healer gave her a change of clothes (tee-shirt, and blue jeans). “Why don't you get cleaned up, Stacy. We'll get us some breakfast.”
“Where are we?” Stacy asked.”
“We're in Fort Clark, in what used to be Colorado. After breakfast, we're taking you home,” the healer said. “I should warn you, the Fortress may have changed while you were gone.”
Stacy was thrilled to find the shower had hot water. Back at the Fortress, hot water was a rare commodity. It was a long time before she came out.
She found the two old men talking quietly over breakfast. Their room's small table now held plates of food they must have gotten from the kitchen.
“They were good people,” the healer said. “They took us in when nobody else would.”
“They were idiots,” the seeker of knowledge said. “They were going to feed themselves to that thing, anyway. We knew if our plan worked, there would be collateral damage.”
“We killed over a hundred people,” the healer said, looking anguished.
“So who are The Twin Kings?” Stacy asked, joining them at the table and helping herself to some pancakes. “BG says The Twin Kings of humanity are here in Fort Clark, and I should seek them out to see what all humans should aspire to.”
“BG's being more annoying than usual,” said the healer. “The Twin Kings are actually rather boring.” He ate a sausage and washed it down with coffee. “Look, Stacy, we should tell you, in order to get what we needed to heal you, we had to find, and kill, a certain alien.”
“It couldn't have been that tough an alien for you guys to have killed it,” Stacy said, stuffing pancake into her mouth.
The Seeker of Knowledge coughed violently, spraying coffee droplets all over the small table. It took some time before he could catch his breath.
“No offense,” Stacy continued, “but one of you is a healer and the other's a scholar.”
“No, no, that's fair,” Healer said. “We snuck up on it and threw a bomb.”
“Three bombs, that I made,” Seeker said, sounding indignant, “and it was a very big tough alien.”
“The point is,” Healer continued, “the alien we killed was the favorite alien of a group of humans.”
“Crazy humans,” Seeker said.
“Crazy humans who are very upset with us,” Healer continued. “So we would like to leave this town quickly and quietly as possible. As soon as you finish your breakfast, put on the armor we got for you. We're leaving.”
***
“This armor smells,” Stacy complained, holding up an ugly, well-used helm.
“That's to disguise the fine materials and craftsmanship,” said Seeker. “If people knew about the high-quality expensive materials in that armor, many would try to kill you for it.”
“Really?” said Stacy, looking at the armor again. It still looked and felt like flimsy, cheap plastic. It was hard to imagine it protecting her.
“He's joking,” Healer said. “We bought it from a nice family whose girl had outgrown it. Now quit complaining and put it on.”
“How did you transport my body here?” Stacy asked. She didn't see any kind of stretcher. “If I was in a hospital, wouldn't they have removed my armor and guns?”
“The answer is complicated and will take time to explain,” Healer said. “We are about to have company. Right now I need you to stay out of the way, and let me do the talking.”
Stacy heard the sound of loud footsteps approaching. The door exploded inward, and men with guns poured inside. The two old men's arms and legs were instantly bound with silver shackles. For some reason, the armed men seemed to barely notice Stacy as she stood quietly in the corner.
“All clear!” someone shouted.
A man in bright red and orange robes and weighed down with gold rings and necklaces came into the room. He was followed by a small, middle-aged woman.
“I hope you're paying for that door,” the woman was saying.
“Your Excellency! It is an honor to meet you,” Healer said, somehow standing up despite his shackles.
“These are the two men I told you about,” the woman said. “They couldn't possibly be the ones you're after. They showed up at my place minutes after the explosion.”
“We'll see,” said His Excellency. “According to BG, The Twin Kings are nearby.”
“We came from the southernmost ministry,” Healer said. “We traveled for over a month. If we hadn't made a wrong turn twenty miles back, we'd have met The Ancient One by now.”
“Psychic!” His Excellency said. “Check them out.” A small man wearing a glass eye pendant came in. He put his hands on Seeker's head, then Healer's.
“Over one hundred of our people are dead, thanks to The Twin Kings!” His Excellency said. “And many many more are wounded. The Ancient One has temporarily left our world, but we have faith He will return soon. There is no hell hot enough for those monsters!”
“That is so horrible,” Healer said.
Stacy remembered what the old men were saying earlier. Could they have possibly killed over a hundred people?
“Their story checks out, Your Excellency,” the psychic said. “The Seeker of Knowledge has a mind shield, but his older brother does not. They are indeed who they say.”
“Older brother, hmmph,” Seeker said quietly.
His Excellency pulled out his cellphone and seemed to be looking at pictures. “We're taking the two of you with us. Don't be afraid. If you're telling the truth, no harm will come to you.”
Stacy didn't wait to hear what they'd say next. She slipped past the guards and out the broken door, finding herself in a hallway. The only one who noticed her was the elderly woman who'd complained about the door earlier.
“Who's that girl?” the elderly woman asked.
“She's not one of your serving girls?” His Excellency responded.
“I've never seen her before in my life,” the elderly woman said.
Stacy started running down the hallway. She wasn't sure what was going on, but things were getting scary. She made it to the end of the hall and ran down a flight of stairs. Seeing a door labeled EXIT, she pushed on it. It was locked; she pulled out her guns. Her guns, at least, were in good working order. One shot destroyed the lock, and the door swung open.
Outside Stacy was blinded by sunlight and deluged with sights and smells. A woman ran out and scooped up her kids with the two sets of tentacles that came out below her arms, pulling them inside their small house to safety. It was easy to see why. Men like the ones who'd broken into their room were everywhere.
Fort Clark was surrounded by walls and guard posts that towered over the homes and buildings they protected. Two giant, ogre-like tumtums stood outside the fort, looking down on them. Both tumtums carried metal frames that rested on their shoulders. The metal frames comprised a latticework of metal rods used to form platforms and handholds for the hundreds of men and women using the frame for transport. Some of those men and women used jet packs to fly into town while others were lowered to the ground with ropes.
“Princess Stacy Kid Barbie, please come with us,” said a voice from behind her.
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Stacy spun around. The man speaking to her was floating in the air, but, unlike the others she could see, he had no wings or jet pack. He was a short man with black hair, and something about his armor made her nervous. It was gray and looked like millions of tiny plates joined together.
“I'm not a princess,” Stacy said. Then she checked her display. In front of her name, Stacy Kid Barbie was the word PRINCESS in large pink letters. “I hate princesses. Why would BG make me a princess?”
“It will be okay, your highness,” the floating man said. “You need to come with me now.”
Stacy felt a strange tickling sensation on her mind as the man came closer. She backed away and pulled out her pistols. “How about you back off?”
She was deafened by the sound of gunfire. Multiple impacts slammed into her head and body, sending her flying backwards. The next thing she knew, she was on the ground, unable to do anything but fight for breath.
“We needed her for questioning you idiots!” the man shouted.
“She pulled her guns on you, Xavier. What were we supposed to do?” someone responded.
“You were supposed to shoot the things that grow back!” Xavier responded. “Like the arms and legs. I asked for a small well-trained team, but no, they had to send you guys.”
“We could call in the brain eater,” the other man replied, trying to be helpful. “Just put her head in an icebox so it stays fresh.”
“I have yet to see any useful information come out of that brain-eating ghoul,” Xavier said. He walked over to Stacy and nudged her with his foot. “Looks like you are in luck. Our little princess has very good armor.” Xavier put his foot on Stacy's badly bruised chest, causing her to moan. He removed her helm and took her pistols. “Very good armor indeed. So, your highness, it's obvious you have wealthy, powerful friends, and you're not from around here. Now tell us what you know about The Twin Kings.”
“I don't know anything,” she gasped out, still trying to breathe. “I woke up in this room with two old men. They said they killed this big alien, then this excellency guy came in and arrested them.”
“Could they have messed with your memory?” Xavier said. “Why don't I take a look.” He put his hands on her head. She felt pressure on her mind build, then vanish.
“Shit!” he said, shaking his head. “Very good armor, and a very good mind shield. But unless Zoltron the Mighty Wizard shows up to save you, neither will protect you for long. His Excellency knows many ways to get a little princess to spill her guts.” Xavier pushed his foot harder against her chest where she'd been shot, making her gasp. “I'll start by examining your armor.” He pulled a strip of plastic from her breastplate.
“Wait, Zoltron the Mighty Wizard?” she gasped out.
“I was joking. He's a crazy old man from the South,” Xavier said.
“I know him,” she gasped out. There was no way two people could be dorky enough to choose that name. Stacy looked down at her chest plate. Where the plastic had come off, there was something bright and silvery underneath.
“You do? Fascinating,” Xavier said, clearly not believing her.
There was a deafening roar and the sound of a stone wall exploding inward.
When she looked up, she screamed and tried to push herself backward. She remembered everything. Back at the Fortress, she'd been about to take a shot at a Kitykity and it had lunged at her and...
The Kitykity charging her now was over twice as big as the one she'd tried to shoot, and this one looked really angry and had brought friends. Smaller Kitykity poured through the gap the big one had just made in the stone wall. She heard gunfire. Gravel and rocks were floating around the big Kitykity. It used the rocks and gravel as a shield. Bullets and crossbow bolts bounced off the wall of dirt and gravel it had created.
Xavier dropped Stacy's guns and helm and ran away, fast.
Stacy curled into a ball, shaking, her eyes squeezed shut. She couldn't watch, but she could hear and feel it come up to her—and stop. The creature sniffed her. Then she felt as much as heard the word—“FAMILY.”
Her helm was pushed down over her head. Her guns were returned to their holsters. A swishing noise, and the manacles came off her hands and legs. She opened her eyes in time to see the monster turning away. The other Kitykity were nearby, watching.
As one, every Kitykity turned toward the soldiers. They let out a thunderous “ROARRRRR!” It was more than noise: it was a psychic energy wave that hurled the armed men backward. The two giant tumtums screamed and ran, their riders hanging on desperately.
She heard giant wings flapping and the roar of flames coming from a distant flying creature. The Kitykity remained nearby, protecting her. A silent voice went through her head.
“EVERYBODY STAY CALM. GO TO YOUR SHELTERS. DO NOT DO ANYTHING THAT MIGHT UPSET MY ALIENS. NOBODY ELSE NEEDS TO GET HURT TODAY. MY COMPANIONS AND I WILL BE LEAVING SOON.”
Stacy saw the two men through the smoke. They both now wore shiny platinum-colored metallic armor under their robes.
“When did you get to be the older brother?” Seeker was saying. "I'm older by exactly 48 minutes.”
“Would you prefer I told the truth? I was trying to avoid more killing,” Healer said. “Besides, I look older.”
They walked up to Stacy, ignoring the Kitykity nearby. “Stacy, if you get killed again, I'm not bringing you back!” Healer snapped. “It hasn't been a day yet and you're already getting shot! Didn't Dad tell you not to pull guns on armed crazy people? All you had to do was stay quiet and out of the way, but no, you had to run off!”
Stacy was shaking and crying. It was a long time before she recovered enough to answer. “You killed a bunch of people. I was trying to scare the guy off, and you sound just like my dad.”
“I'm not Dad, thank god,” said Healer, “but now I have a lot more sympathy for the old bastard.”
The large Kitykity came up to the two old men, bumping Healer with the side of its head. “FAMILY,” the elephant-sized alien said, bouncing up and down like an excited puppy.
“And you were supposed to follow at a distance,” Healer said to the giant creature. “I told you to stay out of the way, and not to frighten the local humans. You almost gave us away several times, you idiot. And you recruited ten younger Kitykity to join you? How and why?”
“Because whenever I do some amazing bit of wizardry, my idiot, and let me stress, nonidentical, twin brother has to show up with a bunch of damn aliens to take all the credit!” said Seeker, answering for the Kitykity.
“I summoned two of them to protect Stacy,” Healer said defending himself, “I had nothing to do with the other ten.”
“FAMILY,” Buddy said, nudging Healer again with its nose.
“Does it have a one-word vocabulary?” Stacy asked.
“Buddy is very smart,” Healer said. “Family is a difficult concept for Kitykity because they reproduce by some kind of asexual budding process.” He raised his hand over his head and rubbed the top of Buddy's nose. “I was eighteen. I'd killed over fifty of these things when I found this one as a baby. It would have been an easy kill, but I couldn't do it.”
Buddy nudged Healer with its forehead. “FATHER,” All the other Kitykity crowded around, taking turns lowering their heads and nudging Healer gently. He put his hand on each of the Kitykity's heads.
Good grief, she thought. Had this Buddy started a Kitykity cult?
“It will be okay, Stacy,” Healer said. “The world is a scary place, but as long as you're with us, you'll be safe.”
From the nearby house with the strange woman and her kids, Stacy saw a tentacle in a window holding a cell phone. The tentacled woman was recording them.
Ian had a small T-shaped scar on the right side of his forehead from falling out of a tree when he was eight. That same scar was on the old healer's head.
The Twin Kings. Stacy thought, shuddering as everything fell into place. She realized who The Twin Kings were, and why the two old men seemed so familiar.
She did what she should have done at the beginning. Pulled up her stat sheet.
Name Stacy AKA Princess Kid Barbie
I know you don't like princesses, but I have to make you one. Sorry.
Sex Female
Age Biological age 12. Time passed since birth 50 years
Physical Attributes 6.9
With 10 being an Olympic athlete and 1 being an invalid in a wheelchair, you are a 6.9
Mental Attributes 7.6
With 10 being a super genius and 1 being severely retarded, you are a 7.6
Status among peers Heroic!
Your peers believe you died in the most heroic fashion, defending the Fortress from filthy alien scum!
Claims to fame
Too many heroic actions to mention. A statue of you has been erected in your honor, a statue that is far too small, in my opinion.
Please keep in mind death is nothing to be ashamed of, Stacy. Humans die all the time.
You've been brought back to life because your idiot brothers, now known as The Twin Kings, killed a big alien and wanted me to bring you back as a reward. I'm sure anyone else could have killed The Ancient One if they'd felt like it.
Special abilities
Superior marksmanship with a pistol, or other firearm.
Has a character build that specializes in hunting zombies.
“The two of you haven't changed a bit, except for getting really old,” Stacy said, still shaking from shock. “BG says it's been thirty-eight years? How did you bring me back?”
“It was my idea,” Gabe said. “I knew BG could bring you back. But it took us a while to convince her to do it. It would have been sooner if we'd done things my way.”
“If you'd gotten us killed, you mean. A frontal assault on The Ancient One would have been suicide,” Ian said, still surrounded by a crowd of Kitykity.
“But He was sleeping.”
“If you are The Twin Kings? how did you change your displays?” Stacy asked. “I thought that was impossible.”
“It is,” said Gabe, “But if you have a million credits and know a certain master wizard, namely me, a fake display can be made to cover your real one.”
“Could you cover up the princess on mine?” She asked. “I hate princesses.”
“We'll see,” Gabe said.
“We have a number of long stories to tell you,” Ian said, “and plenty of time to tell them on the way home. Dad is looking forward to seeing you again. He's turning seventy-eight, but thanks to life extension treatments, the old bastard doesn't look a year over seventy.”
“I believe it's traditional for the wizard to ride the dragon,” said Gabe. “And somebody promised.”
“Give me a second,” Ian said. Less than a minute later, a green-and-white thirty-foot-long dragon landed nearby, and let out a loud roar. The Kitykity all glanced resentfully in the dragon's direction, but otherwise ignored him. “Danny is only twenty-three years old. He's still an infant, so be gentle. And watch out for teeth, claws, fire. Oh, who's a big boy? Yes, you are,” he said the last to Danny, petting the dragon's green scaly head.
“How many aliens does he have?” Stacy asked Gabe, wide-eyed. She couldn't believe how much had changed.
“Danny's nothing,” Gabe said with a chuckle. “Wait till you meet Greta. She's known for eating humans who upset her, but for some reason, she thinks Ian's her mate.”
“Don't go near Greta unless I'm present, Stacy. Greta scares me, and she's technically my companion,” Ian said.
They put a saddle on Danny, and soon Gabe was in the air, circling them. “Why don't I have the title of dragon rider?” Gabe grumbled loudly from the air.
“Because you're riding my dragon, you idiot,” Ian said quietly.
Buddy gently picked up Stacy and put her on its back, then did the same for Ian. “Gabe gets airsick on dragons,” Ian said. “He'll be joining us within a day. Stacy, be very careful around my aliens. They are not pets. Buddy, however, understands family, and sister, and will defend you with its life.”
“Why did BG make me a princess?” Stacy asked.
“Be glad she didn't make you a king. That would have been weird,” Ian replied.
“How did you get away from that guy with all the gold jewelry?” Stacy asked.
“I was trying to avoid hurting anyone, but you got shot, so I used my gift to knock out everyone in the hotel and Gabe got us out of the shackles.” Ian activated his psychic amplifying helm. He sent out a message that went for hundreds of miles.
“GREETINGS. THIS IS IAN ANDERSON, AKA LORD IAN MIND MASTER AKA THE BEAST MASTER, THE DRAGON-RIDER, AND A BUNCH OF OTHER BS TITLES THAT MEAN NOTHING. MY BROTHER IS GABE ANDERSON AKA ZOLTRON THE MIGHTY WIZARD. HE DID KILL A SILVER DRAGON, AND HE JUST KILLED THE ANCIENT ONE. WE ARE THE TWIN KINGS.
WE HAVE NO WISH TO FIGHT, BUT WE WILL IF WE MUST.
WE DON'T REGRET KILLING THE ANCIENT ONE, BUT WE REGRET THE HUMANS KILLED IN THE PROCESS. WE WILL COMPENSATE THE FAMILIES OF THE VICTIMS WHEN WE AGREE HOW BEST TO DO SO.
THE GIRL ACCOMPANYING US IS OUR SISTER. SHE IS NOT PART OF THIS CONFLICT. SHE HAS COME INTO OUR CARE AND WE ARE TAKING HER HOME. YOU MAY REST ASSURED SHE IS UNDER OUR PROTECTION.”
THE END FOR NOW