IMMOLATION: CHAPTER 55

Judge Dervin never thought he'd miss the twenty-four hour news cast. It had been three days since the power went out. He shook his head groggily, uncertain as to why he was awake. Though there was nothing to tell him the time, he'd always had a good sense for it and something told him it was still quite early. Yesterday passed without any food and he looked, hopeful, to the grimy tube protruding out of the ceiling above his head.

Nothing.

Strange, something had awoken him but he couldn't figure out what it was. Judge Dervin shifted in his chair, frowning. He hated being awake. Only when he slept was he free from the pain, hunger, and depression, for when he dreamed he was with his family. And they were happy.

The room quavered. It wasn't much, but where there was so little else to focus on or distract him he couldn't help but notice the motion. Minutes passed and Judge Dervin did nothing but sit and listen. Off in the distance he thought he could hear voices, raised voices, and they were punctuated every so often with slightly louder popping sounds. After a few more minutes the room quavered again, this time more noticeably.

Judge Dervin thought back, his mind racing, as he tried to remember what the news anchor was saying right before the power failed. For days he'd tried his hardest to ignore the TV, blaming himself for the state of world, cursing that if only he'd gone to the police instead of confronting Dr. Muto alone, things might have been different.

A deep rumble and the room shook again, hard enough this time that his chair wobbled and dust from the ceiling settled down around him. Angry voices shouted, though they were still too far away to be understood, and the popping sound, Judge Dervin realized with increasing concern, was gunfire. He probably should have recognized it for what it was right away but his mind wasn't quite up to par these days.

Angry voices. Power loss. War.

These words floated through Judge Dervin's mind, refusing to be dismissed, though he wanted desperately to drift back off to sleep. When the room shook again for the fourth time, his memory clicked. Though he hadn't been paying attention to the TV, he remembered what the last news cast was about. With the world's nations crumbling, they were demanding the plans to the Heat Machine so that they could build their own and stave off the energy crisis. They were refused. With their last hope crushed, they did the only other thing they could: invade.

There was nothing to be done. Judge Dervin had been tied to the chair long enough to know there was no escape from it. If the sounds of fighting he was hearing were indeed from an invading army, well, the war was pretty much over. It wouldn't be long now. He doubted whether it would make much difference, if the other countries got the plans. They would still have to find a source of heat strong enough to power their nations, but that was their problem to solve, not his. With any luck, he'd be dead long before then, anyway.

Click

Judge Dervin stiffened. That sound had come from inside his room. His back was to the door, it had always been that way, and he'd just assumed it was shut.

“Who's there?” Judge Dervin's voice sounded alien to him, dry and aged beyond the few months he'd spent in there.

A tall, dark man stepped around to face him. His face was unreadable but the knife in his hand hinted to his intentions.

“Are you here to kill me?” Judge Dervin asked.

“No,” the other man replied and he stooped down, cutting Judge Dervin's bonds. “I may have once been your captor,” he said, “but now I set you free.”

“Why?” Judge Dervin asked while he rubbed his sore and atrophied arms.

For a moment the other man said nothing, just stared at Judge Dervin with his unreadable gaze. Then, at last, he folded his knife closed and spoke.

“There is no point in keeping you here,” he nodded toward the far wall, where the sounds of fighting were coming from. “Go and die in whatever manner you find best.”

He turned to leave.

“No,” judge Dervin said, more to himself than anything else. “I'll find Samantha.”

“She is dead,” the other man's voice was without emotion.

“I have it on good authority that she lives,” Judge Dervin cocked his head toward the other chair.

“Is that what he told you?” the man asked, hesitating at the door. He looked, odd, his expression changing, softening, for the first time. “I had a family too, once. Long ago. I have left you some supplies in the kitchen. Take them and search for your daughter,” and he left.

It took Judge Dervin a few minutes to stand up and even when he managed it his legs wobbled, threatening to give way. He looked over to the other chair. The mass of gore and bones still managed to suggest the man they once were and for a moment Judge Dervin considered burying the man. However, the fighting was getting closer and his time was short as it was. Besides, with his body so frail and the corpse so decayed, he doubted he'd be able to move it out of the room in one piece. In the kitchen he found a backpack. He only took a few moments to look through it, glad to see the food but knowing he should probably wait to eat until he was someplace safe. And so, leaning on the walls for support, Judge Dervin made his way through the decrepit apartment, out the secret passage, and eventually into the bright sunlight.

Nothing looked familiar. Even if it had been his own neighborhood, Judge Dervin doubted that he'd have recognized it. Buildings were burned and crumbling everywhere he looked. A few hundred yards away he could see the fight raging. A blast shook the ground and a plume of debris rose up into the air as the wall of a nearby building exploded. Men screamed and those that could ran for cover. Those left behind were crushed beneath the collapsing building. A few of their dying screams reached Judge Dervin and he paled, quickly going in the opposite direction.