The Devil’s Pact, The Tyrants’ Daughter
by mypenname3000
Copyright 2015

Chapter Ten: Sleeping Beauty

Tuesday, June 14th, 2072 – Queenie Glassner – Southern Oregon

My cheeks were warm and my leg throbbed when I woke up. How could a stupid scratch cause so much trouble? My upper thigh ached worse as I sat up. I reached for the pouch of willow bark, pulled out a piece, and chewed on it. It was bitter, but as I swallowed, the fever and ache diminished.

“How are you feeling?” Reina whispered as I painfully crawled out of the tent, my bladder full.

“Same as yesterday,” I lied as I stood up. My leg burned with every step. I hid my wince as I walked away to squat and pee.

So far there had been no sign of pursuit by the slain Holy Liberation soldier’s allies. Maybe they didn’t have any nearby or maybe they didn’t know which way we went. Or maybe they just hadn’t caught up. I couldn’t afford to slow my family down.

Rex crawled out, stepping up beside me and pissing. “How’re you feeling?” he asked.

“Same as yesterday,” I repeated, forcing a smile.

He shook his cock and bent over to kiss my forehead. “You feel warm.”

“A little. I’m chewing on my bark.”

“How’s your leg looking.”

“The same. I checked.” I hadn’t. I didn’t want to look at the inflamed wound and the white pus that filled it. I just to keep walking and hope I healed.

Everyone asked me the same questions except Sister Stella. Her gray eyes gave me a considering look as I limped about the camp as we readied to set out. We loaded up Alison the pack mule with our belongings. I didn’t have to carry my backpack. That was the one nice thing about being wounded.

I really tried to stay positive.

Rex, Reina, and Sarah walked around me was he headed down the trail. The pain was worse today. When I finished chewing on one piece of willow bark, I found another. It was the only way I could keep going. I grit my teeth, and sweat beaded down my forehead.

My limp grew worse.

“You don’t look alright,” Sarah whispered, slipping on arm around my waist. “Lean on me for a while.”

“Thanks,” I nodded.

Reina’s brown, beautiful face furrowed, her lips pursed. I gave her a reassuring smile as I limped on. Sarah helped for a while, and then it was Rex helping me, his strong arms holding me up. I could smell his manly musk as I leaned against him, savoring that scent.

“You can do it,” he whispered in my ear. “We’ll reach Canyonville today. Maybe they will have a doctor.”

I nodded my head. Canyonville was the next major town along I-5 north of Ashville. Hopefully, they weren’t full of Christian fanatics that would try and kill us on sight. Chase said it was the Preacher that lead the army that attacked, getting revenge on us for driving her out of Redding.

I’m glad the dried-up cunt was dead.

“Just keep going, wife of mine,” Reina whispered when it was her turn to support me. “Canyonville will have a doctor with some antibiotics. Maybe penicillin. That’s not hard to make. And then you’ll be right as rain.”

“What does that mean?” I giggled. My forehead was burning, but that expression, right as rain, sent a fit of laughter through me.

“I have no idea why right as rain means feel better,” Reina laughed back. “Maybe Chase knows.”

The next step was agony. My poor leg finally gave out. I screamed out in pain. Reina held me, but she couldn’t stop me from falling down. She made sure I didn’t land too hard on the cement ruins of I-5. The concrete was warmed by the sun, but still felt cooler than my body.

“Queenie!” Reina shouted.

The heat grew worse. And despite the burning in my head, I shivered. My teeth chattered. I trembled on the ground as everyone gathered over me. I tried to put a reassuring smile on my face, but I just couldn’t muster it.

“She’s burning up!” Reina gasped. “Oh, Queenie! Hold on!”

A cool, wet cloth was draped over my forehead. Things grew hazy around me. I struggled to stay awake, but it was too hard. My body was giving up. I drifted like a log down the river, bobbing up to consciousness for a few moments before I was dragged down into the confusion of my dreams.

I rode atop a horse, waving at the cheering crowds. I was a goddess, married to three of the Living God’s children. Everyone worshiped me and loved me. I waved back, drinking in their love. It was a world of happiness, where no one tried to shoot you and—

—I jolted awake. The world danced around me. I was tied to the back of Alison, swaying atop the pack mule. My leg burned. My face was on fire and—

—I flew over verdant fields. But a darkness crept over them. The darkness was somehow as silver as the stars, shining with a beautiful light, but still it consumed everything. A woman sat at the center of the darkness with hair like platinum and eyes as silver as the stars. She watched me like a bug, her hand reaching out to crush me. I screamed out—

—“It’s okay,” Sister Stella smiled, patting my hand. “You have nothing to fear. We’ll find help for you in Canyonville. Just hold out a few—

—hours and then I’ll make love to you,” laughed Rex. “Your my Queen, Queenie. And you deserve to be worshiped as—

—the infection spreads, she’ll grow weaker and weaker,” Chase whispered to Sister Stella.

My feverish gaze looked ahead, barely understanding what she said. The half-charred ruins of a house peaked out from vegetation while a faded sign read, “Welcome to Canyonville, Oregon.”

More ruins spread out before us. The Christians had cleansed this town, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sarah Glassner

Canyonville was in ruins.

“I’m gonna…Queen…rule…love me…” mumbled Queenie as she swayed on the saddle. Only the ropes tied about her waist and legs kept her on the pack mule. She wilted like a flower in a summer drought.

We trudged through the ruins hoping to see some sign of habitation. In the center of town, a collection of crosses had been driven into the ground, the grisly remains of bones still clung to the crucifixes. More bones were glimpsed peaking out of the vegetation that had taken over the ruined town. It had been destroyed years ago.

There was no doctor to save Queenie.

Hopelessness filled my spouses faces.

“Silvery darkness…beware…star eyes…” muttered Queenie. “…she deceives…pretends…lion among the…beware…Astarte…”

The sun sank to the west, long shadows spreading through town. We kept going, leaving it behind. None of us wanted to camp in the ruins. Ahead, the South Umpqua River gurgled happily, not caring that Queenie was sick. We reached a crossroad where, according to a faded sign, Grazley Bridge Road crossed Stage Coach Road. The bridge’s footing could be seen a quarter mile ahead, but the span had collapsed into the river.

We camped at the ruins. There were beautiful wildflowers. Queenie loved wildflowers. It seemed appropriate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wednesday, June 15th, 2072 – Chasity “Chase” Glassner

Queenie was too sick to move. She thrashed in her bedding, her body drenched with sweat. She couldn’t eat and could barely drink. She wasn’t lucid, but rambled about the strange things she dreamed about. The most common was the silver darkness. My three siblings surrounded her, their faces sagging with grief.

When my parents ruled the world, no one would die from something as easy to treat as an infected wound. Even before my parents, that wouldn’t have happened. But now, thanks to the free will of men, they destroyed the world in an orgiastic delight, so bent on punishing those that still followed my parents they failed to preserve the basics of society.