Chapter 1: The End Is Near

Click.. Click... Click... I listened to the sound of her heels as she left the room and rounded the corner. As I faded into blackness I had no idea whether this would be the last sound I heard or not. One last gasp of air. One last look at the man standing next to me; pushing the plunger down. Just one last thought entered my mind ( How could this happen to me?....)

3 WEEKS EARLIER

FREEDOM... To Mark Winslow this was freedom. The cool crisp night air weaving throu his long, dirty, matted hair. Although to most Mark was just a bum however, this made few try to talk to him. This meant no one knew anything about him. Having the face of a mountain man, coupled with a creepy aura helped with his facade. They, so quick to judge, would throw change at him without missing a step.

He never asked for anything from anyone so he assumed they did it so as not to incur his wrath. Never knowing about the life he saved or the brother he couldn't. They would see the dirt and long hair on his face and assume he was no more then a random bum. With his long black sweat suit and even longer Royal purple trench coat covered in holes and dirt who could blame them?

Regardless of that, he was free. The streets were barren of all life, save for him. At 3 a.m. what little shops that still existed were long since closed for the day. After hearing his stomach growl in anger he realised he hadn't ate anything since this morning. Picking up his pace he spotted his destination.

A dumpster is still a dumpster unless it's from MACHELLO'S. Then it might as well be Aphrodite, hand outstretched, waiting for an embrace. As he dug throu the dumpster a sound made his hair stand on end. Nails on a chalkboard can't even describe the sound echoing throughout the alley. To Mark it was more like a cattle prod charging up.

As he turned, immense pain shot through his body causing him to fall to his knees. A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he looked up to glare at the 2 men standing above him. The smile that was on their face died when their eyes met his. Never had they seen eyes that cold and dark before. As they turned to run they froze in place, almost as if being forced to stop.

The last thing Mark saw as he ran was the men swing upside down, still frozen, as their necks opened to reveal a river of purple ooze run down their face only to fall to the floor with a disgusting PLOP! Running a couple of blocks was all he could manage before puking up what little food he was able to swallow. Once he caught his breathe he walked slowly and deliberately back to the alley.

As he became closer to the alley he could see nothing. Not the bodies, nor the Aphrodite dumpster. He checked out the alley as he slowly moved to the spot where everything happened. Again, nothing was there. Save for a weird shadow on the floor further up. Summoning all his courage he approached the shadow only to see a puddle of jiggly purple ooze. As he went to reach for it the sound came again except this time it hit the back of his neck causing him to hit the floor with a resounding THUD!

The warmth of the sun on his face started to wake him up. But, in all reality it was the kick to the stomach that got him on his feet. " Get on you." said a man dressed in a MACHELLO'S uniform. The back door flew open as Mark was getting to his feet.

The man who entered the alley was older then the other with a menacing look. His tux, albeit shiny and new, was sleeveless showing off both arms covered it tattoos. He was only 6 inches taller then the employee but his build made it seem like a bear had stepped thru the door rather then a middle aged man. He glanced at the employee before stooping to help Mark. To the employees disbelief the man turned to him with a cold icey glare that could stop the Grim Reaper in his tracks.

"What are you doing Albert?! What gives you the right to treat anyone like that?" The man's eyes widened in terror as he started to speak" He is homeless. Him being around here will scare the customers away, so I thought..." Before he could finish the man clocked him hard enough to lift him off his feet and send him flying back into the wall of the building.

When Albert had regained his footing he stood straight as an arrow, never once taking his eyes off the older man. Even as blood started to trickle down his face past his eyes and mouth till it hit the ground. The man turned to Mark with a sincere look in his eyes.

"Please forgive my IDIOTIC son. Being 19 he is still wet behind the ears and unaware of the world beyond this town. If you need anything at all you come inside and tell them my name. Please hold no ill will towards my son." For the first time since he was a kid Albert watched his dad salute the homeless man as if he was a superior. Mark met is salute with his own simply saying " I don't know your name sir."

The man chuckled and said" I am USMC Srgt. Major Darnell Machello 121st platoon. This is my son, first class asshole and moron, Albert Machello." As he was talking Albert noticed the tat. Different from his dad's but still he could make out the letters USMC. As his dad finished talking he placed his hand on Albert's shoulder. He turned from his dad and saluted Mark as tears started to stream down his face mixing with the blood from his father's blow.

Without blinking he said" I apologize for my behavior. With out men like you, my father would of never of came home. A man saved him at a great personal cost. If it weren't for that I would've been a fatherless child. And for that I will always be in your debt."

With that he went inside leaving the two men alone. Darnell Machello apologized one last time as Albert came back out holding a bag of food for Mark, and with that they went their separate ways. After walking a ways he could see the town start to become more decrepit the further he went.

Soon, he had started getting closer to BUM TOWN, rightfully named for all the homeless that normally crowded around the area. The streets were clear save for a few souls like him. Noticing one, he started to head his way carrying the food from MACHELLO'S. The man's name was Aeon, or at least that what he told me.

Aeon was one of the few, like Mark, that remembered his name. Whether that was from years on the street, or the fact they were running from something. Aeon, also known as Andrew Holmes, was a fellow Marine known throughout this place as the Guardian. He was a kind man with love and hope still in his eyes. A rare find in these parts where despair and sadness were so common.

He was a tall slender man about 5 ft 10. his beard not as long as mine but better maintained. Streaks of grey and silver running through it. The lines on his face tell me he is in his mid to late 30s. I sat down next to him by his little shack. As far as rundown houses went he got a good one. Constantly patching it up with things he would find lying around, it looked more like a child's drawing then a home.

His real name was Andrew Holmes USMC ex-Corporal, dishonestly discharged. I had asked him once why he was discharged. Stareing off into space, lost in some forgotten memory, he just shook his head saying " He shouldn't of gone." He looked at me when the smell reached his nose. His hunger was written on his face.

I pulled the meal Machello had given me to reveal a family sized lasagna still steaming. After giving him his share he asked me " Who did u steal this from?" With a small chuckle I answered him " Machello gave it to me... he says we got to stick together." Aeon smiles taking another bite before stooping mid chew. " The twins on 53rd and oak are gone. No one has seen them in weeks it's like they vanished." Seeing the worry on his face I decided to tell him about my dream when we heard it. CLICK,CLICK,CLICK,CLICK echoes down past them filling the area with a sickening silence in-between steps. Why did this sound make me cringe? Why did my brain scream at me to run?

Before I could entertain the thoughts I saw her turn the corner. A young women I would guess bout 20 was bounding down the street. Upon seeing us, she changed directions making a B-line right for us. Aeon leaned over ever so slightly and whispered " Follow my lead." (Did he know her? Did she know Aeon... Does she know me?)

As she neared I began to notice more and more. In a neighborhood where the streets wear trash like a blanket, stores closed and covered in graffiti, not to mention homeless people everywhere she stuck out like a sore thumb. She left much to be desired with her outfit. It was nice but not new, with a slit up to her thigh. The watch and rings she wore could of been fake, but they sure were flashy. Seeing her closing in with that bright orange dress and her blood red hair, it was like a fire coming to consume us.

When she reached us Aeon was staring off into space. " Corporal Holmes? I need to speak with you." Aeon, being a damn good actor, looked straight past her making only a grunt. She called him again " Corporal Andrew Holmes!" This time their eyes met as he said " I'm sorry I think your mistaken. My name is Aeon, not Andrew." Despite her familiar face he thought it best to play dumb. With a glare she turned to me and said " Are you going to tell me your not Mark?!" The anger in her voice was just to good to resist. Looking at her with the straightest face I could manage I said " You can call me Bond ... James Bond."