The otherworldy adventures of Cain and Abel

A rapidly descending bolt of lightning illuminates the bleak night sky like a fireworks display and the accompanying crack of thunder stirs the living and the dead alike. A second, third, and later a fourth strike of elemental electricity rocket down from the sky and are followed shortly after by more deep, bellowing roars from the near instantaneous heating and expansion of the surrounding air. Large, heavy drops of contaminated rain pour down by the bucket full and drench all those who remain out and about at such indecent hours, fortunately those who do prowl about under the cover of darkness care little whether they stay dry or not, in fact all they care about is their next meal.

Cain used to love the sound of rain, it calmed him, soothed his irrational anger, and more often than not lulled him into a long, deep slumber, and he still does, but now it’s different. It no longer comforts him as it once did. Now it just worries him to no end.

To be fair it isn’t the rain that specifically torments him, no, it’s the mournful cries and the awful wails and the lasting shrieks of those who stand out it the torrential downpour and search endlessly to fill their gaping maws with the flesh of those like what they once were. They howl and scream, they moan and weep, they screech and holler and it’s more than enough to drive any man insane.

But Cain is no average man; he is far superior to his fellow Homo-Sapiens in both mental capacity and physical strength but the ongoing voices of the dead and damned take a toll on him nonetheless. He covers his ears and half sings an old song to himself, he rocks to and fro and clenches his eyelids together, he drowns out the white noise of the ghouls and the rain and prays to God or whoever may be listening, he breaks.

Days, weeks, and now months of being bombarded from every which way by the siren song of the undead are finally taking their toll, his lost wife and deceased daughter only add to the stress on his mind. He shivers from the cold and fingers his sidearm; ‘One second,’ he thinks, ‘one second and I could end all this and be rid of these damn creatures and be with Cassandra and Del again… One pull of the trigger and…’ his morbid thoughts go unfinished as a resonating crash from outside meets his ears.

“The fuck was that?” he shouts into the dark.

“A zombie of course!” a voice from nearby answers. “What did you think it was? Jehovah’s witnesses here to tell us the good news?”

“Dammit Abel,” Cain swears as the crashes and rattles from outside fade away, “Don’t give me that sarcastic bullshit, you know I’m paranoid and I’ve every right to be.”

“Go to sleep Cain,” Abel commands quietly, “we’ll be fine and when morning comes we’ll ditch this filthy warehouse and find us a nice place to wait this whole mess out. Just you wait an see, starting tomorrow everything’ll start to go our way. Trust me.” Abel readjusts himself on his bedroll and immediately begins to snore, a few feet away Cain nods to himself and wraps his blanket tighter around his shoulders.

“Yeah,” Cain mutters, “starting tomorrow, everything will go our way.” And with that Cain dips his head down and drifts to sleep.

* * *

Sunlight filters into the long abandoned and recently reclaimed warehouse through cracks in the boards and planks barricading the buildings windows. Abel silently sharpens his machete on a wet stone and glances over at his sleeping comrade and the dead at their door whenever one or the other moves much. After a half hour of cleaning, checking, and preparing all of his weapons Abel finally decides that his friend has slept in long enough. With a solid kick to the thigh and a lengthy string of swears and degradations the farmer manages to wake his inner-city cohort.

“The hell was that for?” Cain asks groggily as he stands and stretches.

“That was for sleeping in so damn late,” Abel calmly explains, “ready to head out?”

“Yeah, gimme a minute.” Cain rudely pushes past Abel and meanders over to the bucket they had designated as toilet. Abel averts his eyes as his friend drops trou and relieves himself. “So where are we gonna go now?” Cain asks in-between grunts.

“I ain’t quite figured that out yet,” Abel replies while loading up all of his gear and supplies, “as far as I’m concerned anywhere’s better than here.”

“I won’t argue with that,” Cain mutters, “I’m up for going anywhere as long as we can get some grub and clean water, I ain’t eaten in a week and I’ve been shitting nonstop cause of this fetid piss we’ve been drinking.” Cain stops and sighs. “Hey, any chance we could head back towards Detroit?”

“Uh,” Abel stutters, “I don’t think so, the place is sure to be crawling with infected, besides I’m sure it’s been picked clean of supplies.”

“Damn…” Cain curses as he stands and begins his own packing. “Oh well, say, how ’bout we-” his proposition ends prematurely, interrupted by a sudden burst of gunfire and thickly accented voices shouting from outside.

“Ahh hell no…” Abel buries his face in his hands as a pair of muscular men barge into the warehouse and point automatic rifles at Cain and him.

“Hands up! Weapons down! You come with us or kill you dead!” a bearded man holding a Kalashnikov yells in broken English as the other man walks towards Cain and Abel.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Cain demands to know.

“Shut up!” the bearded man screams. “Kill you!” he raises his gun threateningly.

“Shit…” Abel mutters as the second man confiscates his weapons and the Cain’s.

“You now move.” The man with the beard orders and points at the exit. “In car, else kill, move now!” due to the rather persuasive maneuver the abductors are utilizing Cain and Abel follow their directions and quietly allow themselves to be lead to a convoy of three waiting Humvees. Abel and Cain heft themselves up and into the supped up rides and find
themselves sitting directly across from their worst nightmare: a fat slob of an Italian who went by the name Two Ton Tony.

Before either of the shell shocked survivors can even speak the SUV shifts into drive and Tony begins.

“I have been informed of some upsetting news recently,” he says with a strong accent, “concerning you twos not paying protection to my men and me. Why do you disrespect me like that?”

“With all due respect Mr. Tony-” Cain starts to say.

“Two Ton,” Tony corrects, “call me Two Ton.”

“Uh,” Cain stutters, “Okay Two Ton, what I was going to say was that we had no need of your protection, we’ve been doing aight without anyone’s help.” Tony laughs heartily making Cain jump and Abel twitch.

“What? Are you twos idiots? Are yous pulling my leg? I don’t offer ‘protection’ I just collect protection money.” Tony chuckles a bit more and then stops dead, a grim expression overtakes his previously jolly face. “Now if yous know what’s good for yous then you’ll pay up. NOW.” The obese mobster explains.

“Hmm.” Abel mumbles.

“No.” Cain refuses outright.

“What?” Abel asks in bemusement.

“WHAT?” Tony asks in rage.

“No, we’re not going to pay your fat ass for nothing.” Cain tells him.

“I thought you’d say that,” Tony grins, “don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll figure out an… acceptable payment plan.”

“Shit…” Abel swears under his breath as Tony laughs deviously and the Humvee takes them further and further from the safety of their warehouse, it may have been shitty but even it was better than this.

***

The blistering heat of the summer sun bears down on the land and evaporates all of the water that had been displaced by overflowing clouds that morning and the night before. The glare forces Cain and Abel to look down as they are escorted from their Humvee and into the middle of a small arena filled with a couple dozen hollering spectators. Tony walks beside them and shouts above the roar of the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’d love to introduce to you Cain and Abel!” the crowd voices it’s approval. “These two think they can get away with not paying me for protection,” the crowd boos, “well, Imma demonstrate just why they need protection.” A guard leads Cain and Abel over to a lone ten foot pole sticking out of the ground and handcuffs them to it before stepping away. Tony pulls back his suit jacket to reveal an odd looking sidearm, he retrieves it and holds it up for the anxious crowd to gaze and gawk at. “I acquired this beauty from some experimental scientists in the army, I don’t know what it does but I’m sure it will teach these two degenerates a lesson.” Tony raises the weapon and aims at Cain. “Should I?” he asks they crowd.

“YES!” the crowd eagerly responds.

“Without another word Tony pulls the trigger and a pale blue light arcs out of the barrel of the gun and speeds towards Cain, as soon as it touches him he screams in pain and vanishes from sight. The crowd and Tony both stare as the blue aura jumps to the pole and then to Abel, causing them both to disappear just as Cain had done moments ago.

A hush falls over the makeshift stadium until one brave soul applauds Tony’s show of force. Soon more hands join in on the clapping until everyone is cheering for Two Ton Tony.

Tony stands staring so intently at the now vacant spot in the land that it takes a minute for him to even notice the standing ovation he’s receiving. He turns and smiles at his loyal fans.

“I sure showed those chumps never to fuck with TWO TON TONY!” the crowd cheers once more and Tony does a little bow, not because that’s all the people deserve but because it’s all his obese body can manage. With a final cry of victory Tony walks away from the stadium and returns his thoughts to business and how he can utilize this new toy of his.

***

Elsewhere in the multiverse two men and a ten foot length of steel pole rip and tear through the fabric of time, unraveling much of it as they go, and end up slipping through a lose seam and into a different world all together.

They land within seconds and inches of each other; first Cain on the hard, dry ground and then Abel on the soft padding of Cain’s abdomen and finally the pole only a millimeter from Cain’s face.

“Goddamn…” Cain mutters and pushes Abel off of his stomach.

“Where in the hell…” Abel’s statement needs not be concluded as his friend understands it immediately, they now stand in a wide open field of nothing but dust and flat, smooth rock as far as the eye can see. Nothing more, nothing else except, wait.

“Is that a farm house?” Abel whispers.

“Let’s go and see.” Cain proposes.

Together the two worn down and beaten up men walk through a strange farm and towards their only hope for help. They may be lost in a foreign land and without and assistance but as long as they are allied they will prevail.

They always have.