10-03-2023, 04:55 PM
The four travelers move briskly down the highway - Rod in the lead, Beth and Milly trailing
behind with Alex guarding the rear. Each head on a swivel. There was no telling when trouble would arrive.
After a few kilometers they stop for a water break. Rod removes the fuel tank from his back,
setting the flame-gun down beside it. Beth fills a small plastic cup and they pass it around.
Alex checks the shortwave for any news.
“Still pretty choppy.” he relays.
“Shut it off, gotta save the battery.” Rod instructs.
Beth stands next to the wagon, her beast of burden, finishing the cup of water and wiping sweat
from her brow. She gazes out into the bush - beaten down by centuries of scorching heat - her eyes
settle on a small grove of trees. A minuscule garden of Eden in the otherwise endless red clay.
Then a sudden change - her heart races - she detects movement!
“Rod, the trees.” she gasps.
They all lock onto a dark figure maneuvering in the distance. Rod slings the tank back on -
flamethrower in hand. Beth grips her machete tightly. Alex raises the rifle. Milly finds safety
behind her mother.
“Let’s go.” Rod says to Alex.
The two jog towards the disturbance. Closing in, the smell of rotting flesh stains the air.
They cautiously slow to a walk.
Weapons poised to engage - the abomination clings desperately to the trunk in the upper
limbs. It was one of a ghastly concoction - chimpanzee, wild boar and human. Referenced in
short order as a choarman. One of several bastardized species created in an underground lab
for the purpose of release in the last days of civilization - in hopes of eradicating any resistors.
The scene was nightmarish. Three disemboweled bodies - man, woman and child. Most likely
a family. They were what the choarman was feasting on until being interrupted. Now the ungodly
creature stands snorting and howling on a high branch of the tree. It has to be done.
“Make it count.” Rod tells his only son.
Alex raises the barrel, aims and eliminates the threat. Headshot. The beast tumbles to the
ground, losing blood on its travels.
They share a look - this was not a place either of them thought they’d ever be - but this is
where life has brought them. It was time to get moving.
Two hours and eight sore feet later, they come upon what is thought to be an apparition.
Could it actually be real? As they draw closer the image remains - a small, dirty pick-up truck.
Sitting just off the road, it appears to be in decent condition. It was too good to be true.
“I’ll check it out, stay here.” Rod says before advancing towards the abandoned vehicle.
“Oh please God let it be.” Beth whispers.
Rod circles the truck slowly with a wide berth. Nothing unusual, he ducks his head inside
to check for keys - no such luck. He waves the family on anyway.
He lays down his weapon and pops the hood, surely a quick once-over wouldn’t go amiss.
The others arrive, anxiously awaiting.
“You think it’s got any gas?” Alex wonders aloud.
Rod is still tinkering under the hood.
“We’re about to find out.”
He pulls a folding-knife from his pocket and sits in the driver’s seat.
“Load up, just in case. Milly, up here with me.”
Alex and Beth lift the wagon into the truck bed and climb aboard. Milly jumps into the
passenger seat. They were all hoping for a miracle. Rod fumbles a few more seconds
with the wires under the dash - VROOOM - it worked!
“Yes!” he yells, elated.
The gauge shows just over an eighth of a tank.
“Go, go!!” Alex cheers, Beth wipes away tears of joy.
They speed off, leaving a thick cloud of orange dust behind.
https://imgur.com/WWnITBU
"A Scourge of Blasphemy" - Second in the four-part series 'Chimera'.
Mixed media on plywood. My 132nd painting.
behind with Alex guarding the rear. Each head on a swivel. There was no telling when trouble would arrive.
After a few kilometers they stop for a water break. Rod removes the fuel tank from his back,
setting the flame-gun down beside it. Beth fills a small plastic cup and they pass it around.
Alex checks the shortwave for any news.
“Still pretty choppy.” he relays.
“Shut it off, gotta save the battery.” Rod instructs.
Beth stands next to the wagon, her beast of burden, finishing the cup of water and wiping sweat
from her brow. She gazes out into the bush - beaten down by centuries of scorching heat - her eyes
settle on a small grove of trees. A minuscule garden of Eden in the otherwise endless red clay.
Then a sudden change - her heart races - she detects movement!
“Rod, the trees.” she gasps.
They all lock onto a dark figure maneuvering in the distance. Rod slings the tank back on -
flamethrower in hand. Beth grips her machete tightly. Alex raises the rifle. Milly finds safety
behind her mother.
“Let’s go.” Rod says to Alex.
The two jog towards the disturbance. Closing in, the smell of rotting flesh stains the air.
They cautiously slow to a walk.
Weapons poised to engage - the abomination clings desperately to the trunk in the upper
limbs. It was one of a ghastly concoction - chimpanzee, wild boar and human. Referenced in
short order as a choarman. One of several bastardized species created in an underground lab
for the purpose of release in the last days of civilization - in hopes of eradicating any resistors.
The scene was nightmarish. Three disemboweled bodies - man, woman and child. Most likely
a family. They were what the choarman was feasting on until being interrupted. Now the ungodly
creature stands snorting and howling on a high branch of the tree. It has to be done.
“Make it count.” Rod tells his only son.
Alex raises the barrel, aims and eliminates the threat. Headshot. The beast tumbles to the
ground, losing blood on its travels.
They share a look - this was not a place either of them thought they’d ever be - but this is
where life has brought them. It was time to get moving.
Two hours and eight sore feet later, they come upon what is thought to be an apparition.
Could it actually be real? As they draw closer the image remains - a small, dirty pick-up truck.
Sitting just off the road, it appears to be in decent condition. It was too good to be true.
“I’ll check it out, stay here.” Rod says before advancing towards the abandoned vehicle.
“Oh please God let it be.” Beth whispers.
Rod circles the truck slowly with a wide berth. Nothing unusual, he ducks his head inside
to check for keys - no such luck. He waves the family on anyway.
He lays down his weapon and pops the hood, surely a quick once-over wouldn’t go amiss.
The others arrive, anxiously awaiting.
“You think it’s got any gas?” Alex wonders aloud.
Rod is still tinkering under the hood.
“We’re about to find out.”
He pulls a folding-knife from his pocket and sits in the driver’s seat.
“Load up, just in case. Milly, up here with me.”
Alex and Beth lift the wagon into the truck bed and climb aboard. Milly jumps into the
passenger seat. They were all hoping for a miracle. Rod fumbles a few more seconds
with the wires under the dash - VROOOM - it worked!
“Yes!” he yells, elated.
The gauge shows just over an eighth of a tank.
“Go, go!!” Alex cheers, Beth wipes away tears of joy.
They speed off, leaving a thick cloud of orange dust behind.
https://imgur.com/WWnITBU
"A Scourge of Blasphemy" - Second in the four-part series 'Chimera'.
Mixed media on plywood. My 132nd painting.
