THE SON OF ELI 2: LIKE A GOD

CHAPTER 14: WAR BECKONS

The murderous Saints holding the machetes exchanged looks when they saw the rage on Eli’s face. Some of them had seen him destroying the Searot horde earlier in the day, and they were suddenly scared.

Their leader, a powerfully-built man who was almost as tall as Eli, had been out on a trip and had come to hear the wild stories. His name was Samson, and he stood behind Elsie with his machete raised to decapitate her.

“Let me guess, you’re the flying bird I’ve heard so much about,” he said coldly and pointed his weapon at Eli. “You shouldn’t be here, bird. You should be safe in your nest by now. But, way I see it, it is too late now.”

Eli said nothing, but his eyes didn’t leave Samson’s face.

The big man tossed his machete from one hand to the other, then expertly rolled it in a fanciful display of dexterity. He walked around Elsie with a murderous glint in his eyes and a sick smile on his lips.

“I’m gonna bludgeon you, birdie-boy!” he hissed with hatred. “Shoulda stayed in your bloody nest!”

He was moving lightly on his feet, supremely confident of himself and the machete he was wielding. He gripped it in his right hand and lunged suddenly, his speed agile and so fast that he almost caught Eli off-guard. The sharp edge was coming for his throat when Eli leaned backwards, his upper body moving fluidly as the machete whistled past his throat, then his body sprang back and moved forward with Eli’s blow behind it.

Samson’s eyes were now wide with trepidation!

He had not expected Eli to move that fast. Surely, no human could move that fast! He was unbalanced by his momentum, and when he saw Eli’s fist zooming in, he panicked. First, he tried to quickly attain a full posture, but he saw he would be too late so he tried moving back, but in that split moment of indecision, he lost his life.

Eli’s fist crashed into Samson’s head with such ferocity that Samson’s eyes ejected from their sockets and trailed down his cheeks. Rivulets of blood shot out of is ears, nostrils and mouth. He fell almost gracefully on his back and lay still as his machete rolled out of his hand.

The others looked at each other with grim expressions. They were scared, but the fear of what Saint Doug Holy would do to them was greater, so they weighed their chances. The Saint who was hacking the bodies into chunks overcame his fear first, and with a roar of defiance, he raised his machete and flew at Eli.

The young man caught the wrist of the Saint as the weapon began to descend, spun in a half-circle using the wrist as a fulcrum, and threw the man across the room where his head smashed into the wall with such a horrible impact that his skull cracked right through and he fell to the ground dead.

That settled it for the others.

Suddenly, they knew this big, handsome young boy was not going to take any prisoners. His fury was too profound, and his disgust made him hate them for their wickedness. They dropped their machetes and moved carefully away from the kneeling people who had come so close to losing their lives.

Eli moved behind them and cut through the thick cords binding their hands. They held each other and wept bitterly. Elsie Brown knelt and held Eli’s feet.

“Oh, thank you, thank you so much, Eli!”

The young man helped her up and looked down at her wrecked face with compassion.

“It is all right now,” he said kindly.

One by one, the others came to him and hugged him.

One of them was an elderly man, a man in his sixties. He was wearing only a pair of dirty black shorts. His chest was covered with matted grey hair. His beard and moustache were thick and grey. His head, however, was bald.

He moved to the bench where the decapitated heads were lying and drew one of them out which he cradled in his arms. It was the head of a young man, about Eli’s age, and as the elderly man began to weep inconsolably with the head held tightly in his arms and dripping blood down his stomach, the other people walked up to him and put consoling hands on his shoulder.

Elsie wiped tears from her eyes and took Eli’s arm.

“How’s Kate doing?” she asked softly in an unsteady voice.

“She’s happy,” he said calmly. “Who’s that man, and whose head is that?”

“They call him Sir Ralph, and that was his only son,” she said softly. “Sir Ralph was one of the first that came to this army base and set up a community, almost five years before that beast Doug Holy came around with his thugs and soon took over everything and renamed the community. Sir Ralph – and his son Francis – had been complaining about how people disappeared, especially the older ones. The seven of us supported him, and I guess word got to Holy, and we were rounded up in our beds.”

Eli nodded, still numbed by the horror he had seen.

“The others need to see this,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “This has to stop. Doug Holy and his cronies would leave this community, or face death.”

Sir Ralph looked up from a tear-streaked face.

“My son, they’re too many and too armed. They have all the guns. We’ll be no match for them!”

“Are there some of you who are concerned about the disappearances and the way Doug Holy rules?”

“Oh, yes, many, many of us!” Sir Ralph said promptly.

“Good. Then let’s carry these bodies and heads to the Square. Wake up all the people. I’ll go to the armoury and bring the guns we might need. It is time to fight this evil cannibal!”

The people looked at Eli with hope, and they did not need any further probing. They tied up the murderous Saints in the room, then they quickly carried the heads and the bodies outside.

Eli waited until the horror room was empty of murdered people, then he closed and locked the door from outside. He leapt into the air and headed for the armoury.

By the time he got to the Square with the first armload of guns and ammo, a sizeable crowd had already gathered and weeping. The remains of the bodies and the decapitated heads were packed neatly on a long platform in the Square.

Eli took some of the young people to the armoury, and they brought almost all the guns to the Square. The people quickly armed themselves, and Eli saw the grim resolve in their eyes and on their faces.

Finally, he let them sound the alarm bell. As its loud, booming sound reverberated across the land, more people poured out with confusion.

The son of Eli was sorry for them for curtailing their sleep, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it. It was war, and war took no prisoners! Soon, Doug Holy and his army would come riding, and that would mark the beginning of bad blood between them. There would be war and bloodshed.

And that was why he had to take a hard stance against the Saints.

So, they waited, and soon enough, they saw the white apparitions approaching them from Saint’s quarters.