Chapter Thirteen
––––––––
RAMIEL HAD FINISHED the second book of the alien warrior romance series and was working his way through the third one. He tried to ignore the restlessness that was growing stronger by the hour. It was mid-morning when he finally caved in. “I guess it’s time for me to hit the road,” the knight said.
He got up and stretched, then packed up his gear. Slinging the duffle bags full of clothes and books over his shoulders, he left the house he’d been using as a base for the past few days.
“I hope Amaros doesn’t turn up here now that I’m leaving,” Ramiel muttered as he strode away from the property. His faint sense that someone was coming in his direction immediately began to increase as he loped down the road.
Avoiding the homes he sensed were occupied, the warrior had no idea where he was going. He only knew he was heading southward and was in the dark about his destination.
“It’s strange that I haven’t seen any other gold comets since my arrival,” he mused. He wasn’t sure why, but the Knights of Order usually landed on Earth at around midnight. He’d stayed up every night to keep watch for his brothers, but the sky had remained empty of meteors so far.
The townsfolk had spoken about a Mad Prophet who seemed to know about his kind.
Humans sometimes had the sight, thanks to Fate’s machinations.
The warriors had overheard tips in past eras that had assisted them to win their wars.
“Anarchy uses different methods,” he said.
“He prefers to use humans as his puppets to assassinate us.”
They’d had encounters with rogue humans far too many times in the past. While they were weak and puny in comparison to the knights, their weapons were still deadly. Ramiel had been wounded badly once several wars ago. His commander had saved his life and they’d eventually ended up winning that war.
“This one is going to be different,” he predicted.
It was already different, since he’d been alone since his arrival.
He’d had too much time to reflect on his purpose and how empty he felt.
Ramiel would never admit it to his brothers, but the endless cycle of dying during battle or surviving and achieving victory was wearing him down.
No matter what the outcome was, he and his brothers always ended up back in the Void.
It wasn’t easy to shrug off his morose mood. Fate could be peeking at his thoughts and he didn’t want her to think he was ungrateful. “I love being a knight,” Ramiel said. “It’s just getting a bit old replaying the same war over and over again.”
Sighing, he took an onramp to a freeway and peered ahead. The way was clear and there were no signs of movement. It led south and it would be easier to travel on the asphalt than on the uneven ground.
Ramiel picked up his pace a bit. His long legs carried him at a steady run that wouldn’t wear him out.
Wild animals fled when they noticed him.
Curious crows sailed overhead, unused to seeing people now.
A small pileup slowed him down and he skirted around it.
The truck that had caused the accident was empty when he glanced inside it.
He tried the driver’s door, curious about what had caused the accident, but it was locked.
“The driver vanished, just like the elderly couple who disappeared from their bed,” he surmised.
While he didn’t know much about the Rapture, it had caused havoc when it had struck seemingly in the middle of the night. Some humans had been driving even at that late hour. There were bound to be more accidents like this along his route.
Ramiel didn’t grow tired as he followed the freeway ever southward.
It was midday when he sensed a band of humans in a small shack not far from the road.
Catching a glimpse of their black souls, the knight slowed down.
Angling towards the trees that grew along the side of the freeway, he darted into the shadows before he could be spotted.
“They don’t even know we’ve been spying on them,” Ramiel heard a man say in a gruff, excited voice.
“If we plan this right, we can wipe out the men and take their women before they even know we’re there,” another male said.
“I vote we go in now,” someone else suggested eagerly.
“We should wait until nightfall,” one of his friends argued. “It’s too risky to attack them during daylight.”
“We’ve nearly run out of meat,” the fifth man pointed out. “I say we keep the men alive rather than killing them all at once. We’ll survive a lot longer if we play this smart.”
Ramiel’s lips twisted in distaste when he realized they’d turned into cannibals. “The wildlife is making a comeback here,” he muttered. “But these monsters would rather kill and eat their own kind than bother to try hunting animals.”
He knew it would weigh on his conscience if he didn’t put a stop to these sick individuals. They would continue to hunt other humans who might not be as evil as they were.
Putting his gear down, the warrior called his sword from the ether. The shiny gold and silver blade with huge diamonds embedded in the hilt appeared in his hand. He rushed through the trees and slammed his foot into the door. It slammed into the wall, startling the occupants into whirling around.
Moving with speed his opponents couldn’t possibly match, Ramiel cut four of them down, then a shot rang out.
He staggered forward when a bullet slammed into his back and spun around.
His blade whooshed through the air and decapitated his assailant.
Blood gushed from his severed neck as the body fell to the floor.
All five men wore filthy clothing that stank as much as their unwashed bodies.
None of them had bathed in weeks, if not months.
Their skin had an unhealthy pallor and their faces were covered in sores.
Clearly, they hadn’t been eating any vegetables since the Rapture.
Humans needed a balanced diet to stay healthy.
“Fantastic,” Ramiel muttered when he felt the bullet was still inside him. “I hope it works its way out of me,” he said. The projectile was in an awkward spot he couldn’t reach and his commander wasn’t there to cut it out of him.
Pain flared in his back as he made his sword vanish. It felt exactly the same as the phantom agony he’d suffered through yesterday. While the injury began to heal quickly, it was uncomfortable having the bullet still lodged inside him.
“Next time, I should draw them outside so I can pick them off without being shot in the back,” Ramiel said ruefully.
He grabbed his gear and slung both bags over his left shoulder this time.
Returning to the freeway, he grimaced until he got used to the sensation of the metal scraping against bone inside his body.
“This is going to be fun,” he said in a sour tone.
“How long is it going to be before Amaros finds me?” he asked and didn’t receive an answer.
Knights of Order didn’t get infections like humans, so he wasn’t in danger of rotting from the inside.
Maybe he would find a human with a gray soul who would agree to remove the bullet for him.
It was his best hope of getting the slug out, so he kept his senses alert for more people.