The Shepherd

The Shepherd

Let it be known, that in the year 2025, the world was divided between the Survivors and the Forgotten.

The Survivors were the groups of people united after the Annihilation. They lived in the Untouched areas that were sheltered and protected by the mountains, canyons, and valleys. They were Unpolluted and carried with them all the Old Ways.

The Forgotten lived in the Dead Lands. Here, everything that once was, had now been wiped clean, and a new type of human began to spring forth from the devastation.

It was in this land of death and destruction that a man emerged from the ashes and began to rally the dying people into a formidable group. His name was Will Shepard, and he had the uncanny ability to reach into the hearts of anyone he spoke to, explain what needed to be done, and have that person follow him forever. They called him, The Shepherd, and he gathered his flock all about him with a promise of new life.

He didn’t have the look of the other Forgotten. He was fresh and whole, as if he had never suffered the fate of which others had suffered. He appeared to be completely free of any of the maladies that the others had endured. His hair was not falling out, but shone jet black. His sharp teeth gleamed, shiny and white. But it was his eyes that grabbed you. They could penetrate into your very being and awaken a primal instinct sleeping deep within. He had a way with words too, that needed to be heard, and he spoke them to anyone who would listen.

“If you drink of the water or eat of the food that was left behind from the Old Ways, you will surely die,” he said. “I offer an alternative, where Death will become your companion and friend, strengthen and nurture you throughout each day, and give you the life you so desperately crave. Follow me, and you shall live.”

They followed him in droves, and he led them to their salvation.

“The human body is made-up largely of water,” he told them, as he held a young girl by her long hair, “and the flesh contains all the components needed to sustain life.” He tilted the child’s head back exposing the soft flesh of her neck. “If you want to live, drink of the Blood of Life and eat of the Flesh that holds it, and you shall be reborn anew.” He lowered his head and bared his gleaming white fangs, then with one savage bite, ripped the child’s throat out.

There was not a single word of protest from the multitude. They understood the lesson demonstrated here. That in death, there was life, and only the strong would survive.

“There are parts of the flesh that may not be eaten,” he said, wiping the blood from his mouth with his sleeve as he continued the admonishment. “There are certain major organs within the body that hold the contamination of the Old Ways, that even now kills you. The liver and the kidneys are an example. Eat not of these things, but instead eat of the flesh only, and drink deeply of the blood, for it will quench your thirst and begin the process of renewal.” He gazed out at the crowd, looking for the smallest reaction of disapproval upon their faces. He knew that now the most crucial moment was at hand.

“There are many here in the Dead Lands,” he began, “that suffer untold pain and agony. The young and the old, the sick and weak, all, have been put here for our purpose. Now is the time to ease their suffering, and put an end to their anguish. In so doing, you shall be rejuvenated, and begin the journey of Life from Death. Go now! Cleanse your bodies of all the poisons of the Old Ways, and deliver those too weak to understand, into the realm of everlasting peace.”

The congregation wasted no time in devouring the sick and dying throughout the city. Their screams could be heard all through the night and into the next day.

The new era had begun.

~

Dr. Frank Wells led the Survivors back into the untouched city of Denver, Colorado. Electricity was restored and tests were run on all water and food stuffs for contamination. It appeared to be business as usual and everyone was thankful for a second chance at life.

“We have way too many to feed here Doctor, and more are arriving all the time. The hospitals are up and running again, but they are already full to capacity.” Susan Talbort was appointed head of the Managing Commitee to keep track of all newcomers. Her blond hair hung down over one eye as she leaned over the table filled with paperwork. She pointed to list after list of names of Survivors that had entered the city. “What are we going to do? This whole thing is getting way out of hand.”

“Alright, Susan,” said Dr. Wells, abruptly, “drastic measures are required for drastic times.” Frank Wells was swamped with things he had to take care of to protect the people under his charge. “I want you to pick and choose a militia to guard all the entrances to the city. Arm them sufficiently to handle any type of problem they may encounter. Any unauthorized people caught trying to enter without permission must be shot on sight.”

“Are you mad? Do you have any idea what these people have been through already?” she asked. “Now, you want me to kill them just as they’ve finally reached a safe-haven.”

“I’m sorry, Susan, but if you can’t handle this job, then I’ll get someone who can.”

“You are mad!” she said, staring into his eyes with disbelief.

“Now look here, this is not something we have a choice about,” he explained. “It is my responsibility to protect the people that are already inside. If we run out of food what are we going to eat, each other? The terminally sick in the hospital must be cut off from all further care. We need the supplies!” He looked at her with sympathy and softened his voice a little. “You may interview any newcomers before turning them away. If they have an expertise that could be essential to our survival, then they may stay. All others must be refused. No exceptions!”

“My God, Frank, what have we become?”

“We are the remaining survivors, dammit! We must survive.”

~

The Forgotten traveled swiftly. Every Polluted town they came across nourished and fed their growing numbers, and, as promised, they were transformed. They became more powerful and resistant to contamination. Grew extra teeth for rending flesh, and took on the characteristics of wild animals; fierce and bloodthirsty. They found that they were able to smell out their victims from miles away, and could now see better in the dark than in the daylight hours. Only the strong from each city were baptized into the fold, and nothing was left behind, alive.

The Shepherd led them towards the mountains. He told them of a place where they would soon all live forever in paradise. A city in the high mountains made of milk and honey, blood and flesh, enough to last them an eternity. He worked them into a frenzy and drove them hard towards Denver.

“Shepherd, the people are worried about food,” said a man that had become less and less human with each passing day. “We have entered no town or city for a week, and grow ravenous. Even now, they squabble and fight among themselves. Tell us, when will we arrive at the promised land?”

“Soon, Daniel, very soon,” he said. “You must pick out the least worthy among us. They will be sacrificed to the congregation.”

“But Shepherd, we can not eat our own. Each one of us is part of the flock and worthy to live.”

“Do you question me, Daniel?” He reached out with blinding speed and grabbed the man by the throat. “Perhaps, you . . . are not worthy.”

“Please, Shepherd,” he begged, gasping for air. “I am your obedient vassal. Command me and it shall be done.”

The Shepherd released him and threw him to the ground. “We must do what we must do, Daniel. Now go and make the choosing, or find yourself among the chosen.”

Later the shrieks of the unworthy could be heard echoing throughout the mountain pass. The Shepherd smiled and watched from a high hilltop overlooking the entire congregation. “We must do what has to be done,” he thought. Feeling the pangs of hunger himself, he waited for Daniel to return, and licked his lips.

~

Susan Talbort put together a makeshift army and posted them around the entire city. She told them to detain any newbies that came along until they could be questioned by her alone and that no one was to be harmed. She also had the sick and dying moved from the hospitals, out to temporary nursing homes scattered about town. “When Dr. Wells finds out what I’ve done,” she thought, “he’ll probably have me shot. But I can not kill these people. So many have died already. The world needs the living now more than the dead.”

~

“Spare me, Shepherd,” pleaded Daniel, as he backed against the cliff. “Please, I have always been true to the cause. My faith has never faltered.”

“Do not trouble me with false alliances, Daniel,” said The Shepherd, as he approached the man. “I know that if things ever turned out differently, you would be the first to watch me die.”

“Never!” replied Daniel, falling to his knees and worshiping the man in front of him. “It was you who gave us the lesson of salvation. We would all surely be dead now if not for your coming.”

“Relax, Daniel,” he said, “I am not going to bring you death, but life. It is time for the initiation. The final step on your path to the New Way.”

“Initiation?” he asked. “What do you mean?”

“I am but the Cup of New Life,” he spoke. “The oasis in the desert, springing forth in a barren region. Come to me, and drink from the Cup.” Daniel approached, mesmerized by the words of The Shepherd.

“Drink of my blood,” he said, as he bit into his own wrist, “and be reborn.” The blood slowly oozed out of the wound, black and putrid smelling.

Daniel took the offered hand and gently began to drink. The taste was horrid. He gagged and tried to pull away, but The Shepherd held him there. “Drink, Daniel,” he said, “drink deeply.” Daniel was forced to obey.

The Shepherd waited until the act was complete, then pushed him away. Daniel fell to the ground retching.

“When you have recovered,” he said, “ bring me eleven more of the most faithful. You twelve will each initiate twelve more, and so on, until the entire congregation has been indoctrinated. Then, we will enter the promised land.”

~

Dr. Frank Wells had finished the tally of stored food and medical supplies. He could now plainly see, that they faced a huge problem. There was only enough to last the population of this city for one year. After that, chaos would surely reign. He tried to devise an alternative plan to travel to other cities and find food, but he knew that the people of those places would soon be faced with the same problem. Too many people survived the Annihilation. Too much was destroyed and contaminated.

“Perhaps if we went into the Dead Lands,” he thought, desperately. “There, we might find some hoards of food stashed away, undiscovered by anyone.” He threw his pencil across the room in disgust. There appeared to be no way out. By his calculations, they were all doomed to die of starvation in one years time.

~

“Shepherd, there are armed guards posted at all entrances into the city,” said Daniel. “Many of us would be shot and killed as soon as we approached.”

The Shepherd smiled to himself. “Do they think they can keep us out with mere guns?” he asked. He looked upon his twelve chosen leaders and shook his head. “You do not yet understand the nature of the Gift I have bestowed upon you.” He quickly reached for the knife fastened at Daniel’s belt. Pulled it free, and stabbed him several times in the back.

Daniel fell to his knees with a shocked look on his face. “Behold,” said The Shepherd.

The others watched terrified, expecting Daniel to collapse dead. Instead, he began to struggle back to his feet. The Shepherd helped him up then turned him around for the others to see and ripped the shirt from his back. The wounds were beginning to heal themselves right before their eyes.

“This is the nature of the Gift,” he said, loudly. “All who follow me, shall not die.”

~

Susan Talbort had been called to the main entrance of the city. The guards there pointed to a man standing alone upon the highway, about a hundred yards out. He did not approach, but just stood there watching.

“What’s with him?” she asked.

“Don’t know, Miss Talbort,” said one of the guards. “He’s been standing there for about an hour now. Hasn’t moved.”

“That’s strange,” she said. “Have you tried to communicate with him?”

“Yeah, sure, old Bill here has been hollering at him to come closer, but he doesn’t respond. Maybe he can’t speak English or something. Man, he sure gives me the creeps just standing there like that.” The others agreed with him.

“Alright then,” she said, “I’ll go see what he wants.”

“We’ll come with you Miss Talbort, he might be a lunatic or worse.”

“No, no,” she said, holding up her hand to the guards. “You’ll just scare him even more. Think about it. Would you approach a bunch of guys holding guns?”

She climbed over the makeshift barrier, and headed down the street.

“We’ll keep our weapons trained on him. If he tries anything funny, we’ll drop him where he stands.”

“Thanks, boys,” she called back at them, “I’m sure you will.”

She studied the man as she approached him. He looked normal enough, but his clothes were soiled and torn, as if he’d been walking through the wilderness for days. Even still, he was very handsome and appeared to be smiling as she drew nearer.

“Hello,” she yelled, “are you all right? Can you understand me?” She walked right up to him, completely unafraid.

“Yes, I understand you, ah..., Susan, right?”

“How do you know my name? Do I know you?” she asked.

“I am The Shepherd,” he said, solemnly. “I’ve brought The Forgotten back to Paradise.”

“The Forgotten?” she said, backing away and looking around. “From the Dead Lands? Is this some kind of a joke? How did you get here?”

“We walked,” he said, staring into her eyes. “We’ve come to claim what’s ours.”

“Well, I’m sorry,” she said, becoming alarmed, “but there’re no vacancies. We’re all filled up.” She could see people moving along the ditch banks on each side of the road. A lot of people! Her eyes became wide with fear. There were hundreds of them pouring down the sides of the hills now. Some on all fours like animals. They didn’t look human. She realized she was about to be cut off from the entrance to the city. Fear gripped her, and she turned and ran.

~

Dr. Frank Wells heard gunshots. He ran to the window and lifted the blinds so that he could see what was going on. There were people running through the streets screaming. More gunshots could be heard coming from up the road, near the barricade.

“What the hell is going on?” He went back to his desk and opened the drawer. He pulled out the .357 Magnum he had stored there, checked it to make sure it was loaded then went back to the window. “This is not good, not good at all.” Now he saw men with guns running down the street. They would turn sporadically and fire at something chasing them. “They’re running away!” He tried to figure out what was happening. He assumed it was a group of outsiders trying to force their way in. “Dammit, Susan, didn't I tell you to shoot on sight.”

Then he saw the Forgotten. “My God, what are those things?” A man tripped and fell as he ran and the misshapen creatures were upon him before he could rise. They savagely tore him open, then squatted down around the body and began to feed. Frank almost vomited from the sight. He stepped back from the window shocked and stunned -- the gun shaking in his hand.

There was a scuffling sound in the hallway outside. He turned and stared horrified at the closed door, too frightened to move. He started backing away until he ran into the wall and could go no further. The door burst open, and Susan Talbort came rushing in. She stumbled and fell. “Susan! Thank God you’re all right.” He finally found his legs and moved to help her. She was bleeding profusely from a terrible wound on her neck.

She stared up at him with a look of absolute terror. “Run, Frank! Run!” But it was already too late. He saw movement at the doorway and stared up into the blazing eyes of The Shepherd.

There was blood smeared about his face and a crimson trail trickled down from his mouth.

“Is there a doctor in the house?” asked the Shepherd, smiling.