A van traveled on a dirt road with a smal dust trail trailing behind. No head light was needed for the cruising vehicle, the driver had traverse this path enough to only need the guild of moonshine. Yet despite its fullness, the night has a orange hue.
The driver sighed looking at the horizon for the upmtenth time. Something about tonight, maybe it was in the air, whatever it was, the night didn't sit well with him. The punks in the back didn't help his paranoia with all their banter.
None of them were all that new to these trips, except the sole greenhorn who was always quiet despite this being his fifth trip. He had this air of maturity that should have been in the other young men.
"Bro I'm tell you, I hit that ass last night." A young man with chain around his neck said.
The other three men booed and shouted. "Stop the cap. Stop the cap!" One of them who wore a tam shouted.
"I'm telling you man, I got last night. Sloppy toppy and everything. The bitches be freaky as fuck over there. I only told her I was from a rival gang and she was slobbing on this nobb." He gestured to his waist.
"Boy sit your black ass down. You ain't got the balls to sneak over into another gang terf." The driver glared through the rear view mirror. Don't be a food boy. The only one who seem to caught wind of this was greenhorn who matched the man's gaze then looked away.
"I'm telling you old man, I did do it. I swear it on the new God."
The driver shook his head. It was then the young man in tam realized. In the front seat, another man held up his cornrowed head looking into the rear view mirror. "Oh did you now? Must have been some great hypothetical pussy, cause you'd never break my rules would boy?"
"No-no boss... "
He glared at his subordinate. "Good man. Now keep it down."
The everyone sighed, most only became aware of the situation after it was too late except Him. The glanced. He hadn't even been in with the gang that long yet was better than these clowns who were practically raised in it. It's was perplexing for him to think about how the roles were reversed.
"You seem distracted, old man."
"...He'd only come on when there's money involved or fighting."
"Ah you me him, the nigga in the suit. Yeah, he's a real piece of work that one." The driver stared curiously. "He's not like the rest of us street rats. First off, he's wearing a suit under that coat right now. Never seen him without it. Second, as you've noticed, he won't be involved in harming innocent people. Even going as far as slugging down our own multiple occasions."
"Are you serious? How's he not dead? Better question is how'd you get him under control?"
" I didn't. He's not someone you can control like the others. Threats don't work on people like him. People who have nothing to loose."
The driver wanted to continue but their destination was within sight. A smaller dirt road branched off to an abandoned structure. Thanks to the decaying tractor, it wasn't hard to deduce this was once a farm long ago.
But sight seeing off the roofless and hallow building was their last concern. Within a minute of opening the van doors, the nostrils of the seven men were filled with a sweet and earthy smell. Before them was a rich field of coco beans. A precious commodity that sometimes sold for ludacris prices on the black market.
It was well worth risking one's life in the eyes of the lower class, but that doesn't mean everyone was stupid enough to do it. Only veterans and young men with something to prove would attempt this possible one way trip.
Over the years the numbers of veterans has dwindled significantly. Those who remain unable to go out anymore due to PTSD. Only alternative for willing sacrifices were these young men too dumb to heed the warning of their betters.
Surprisingly the last few trips over the past months have been successful without any mishaps. That's what had the driver concern. Each time they came back successful his dred for the next trip grew. That's why he requested their leader accompany them.
"Watch each other's backs second, your surroundings third." He had warned when they disembarked. "And number one, you watch the godman sky." He pointed his glock to the orange night sky. "Nigga in the suit. Watch our backs and our way out. I'll take point." Jethro nodded slowing his pace.
As they approached the coco fields, trees twenty feet tall stared down at them. Each evenly spaced and littered with blue pods.
One of the few miracle plants that survived this apocalyptic desert wasteland. At their roots were rich brown dirt with patches of orange sand were four trees would intercept. Everyone filled the boss's tracks, walking on the roots of the trees. Paranoia and doubt filled their every step contrary to their previous carefree demeanor on the way here. They all knew that tomorrows sun rise could happen without them.
"You still trying to get up his sister's skirt?" A guy wearing glasses said to ease the tension.
"I wouldn't have to still be trying if he would stock blocking my shots." The guy with the chain pointed at one of them who wore a ski mask.
The ski mask guy shocked his head. "I ain't blocking nothing. Though I should because your shots are STD deadly."
"Ohhhh!"
"Burn!"
"How you gone have STDs when you can literally buy the cure?"
"Broke nigga."
"Hey hey, focus on his cock blocking, not my monthly check ups."
"What cock blocking? All he did was ask me for her digits and I said no get em yourself. I ain't stopping you from getting her but I ain't helping you either. I know the type of life we live and most of us gone die young leaving any family we have. I don't want that for my sister. I want her to have future. Preferably with someone who doesn't put their dicks in any mouth that opens."
"Your mount's open now I ain't put it in yours so you're just make wild accusations." Everyone shook their heads at him. "Come on guys it was a joke-" He was grabbing by his shoulder and pushed into a tree knocking. The pods fell. "Ay, yo! What the hell is your problem?" He tried to get up but was stopped byJethro who was still holding on to him.
His eyes bulging with a murderous rage drawing the concern of the others. The guy wearing the ski mask was about to step in. Orange sands sat right below his foot welcoming him into its embrace.
He stopped just in time to earn the boss's disapproving stare. A glare similar to Jethro's. They've just dodged a landmine and death with it. "Are you fucking dumb?" His glock pointed at the guy in the chain. "Last fucking warning. Got that?" He nodded his head.
"Boss, almost all our bags are full." Jethro held up the hands of the other two men.
The boss sighed. "You two, empty these so we can reload." He said to the ones wearing the chain and ski mask. "Everyone else keep picking and don't stray too far from the route back."
As the two men halled the bags back with low spirits, Jethro stopped them and handed over his phone. "Here. Play some music like you always did on jobs before to calm your nerves. The boss can be pretty intimidating I know." He went back to picking.
They came back with empty bags after a minute while seemingly in an argument. "Play something different." The one in the ski mask reached for the phone.
The one in the chain kept it away. "You know his play list is nothing but old songs."
"Well at least play something gangsta."
As if by divine intervention, a song popped up in the queue starting with the word 'gangsta'. "Well what do you know?" He showed him the phone to his friend who play it.
The instruments came in with the tapping of drums then symbols. A bass guitar followed by a choir wailing in agony as if the damned were warning of impending doom. "Damn this beat is lit."
"Can't wait to hear the vocals."
Jethro dropped the bag carefully dashing over to them. "Turn that off. Now!" Before they could respond, the raging terror in his eyes took a hold of them. Their fingers frantically pressed the pause button. "I said turn it off!" His tone filled with hostility and panic getting down the drivers attention.
"I don't like this." He stared at the ever orange sky. "I Don't like this one bit." The engine started.
"Turn it off!"
A lump in his throat as they tried to power off the device. "I-I'm trying! It's not turning off."
Jethro grabbed the phone and tossed it to the distance smashing it into a cocoa tree. The peaces were scattered falling into the orange sand sinking away. Jethro sighed before being smack over the head with a gun.
"You have ten seconds to tell me what that was about." The boss pointed his gun at Jethro who used his hand to play with his creaky hinged jaws staring blankly. "Well? Are we being followed be a rival gang? Are they tracking us through your phone? Or is it the police? Have they finally started giving a damn?"
"... That song... " Jethro said. "Shouldn't be played..."
The boss stared with his mouth partially opened. "You're fucking crazy. I always knew you were a bit fucked in the head, but you're actually insane."
"You think I'm delusional? What kind of song only stops when you break your phone? That downloads itself back on your new phone? That can't be deleted?... That song is cursed... Even now I hear it."
"... Hold on... " The boss said while he looked around with the others. "We're... hearing it too...."
Jethro's neck snapped in the direction of the orange sands the shattered phone fell into. The beat came back with the wailing choir, only this time they were accompanied by sharp piano keys like what you'd hear in a horror movie.
And it was a horror movie. For just as how the cast in a horror movie would stare petrified from their first encounter with The evil entity, so were they as they stared at the shifting skies. The deep orange hue faded to their right revealing a breathtaking view off a black night sky only to be overshadowed by a sea of frosty blue hue. It was as if the safety of the orange night had fled them and the blue of day was on its way.
The sounds of sand being splashed pulled their attention down. In the middle of the sand where the phone fell stood... something? Something shaped like a person, like a human but it was far from it. It didn't have skin nor hair only exposed muscle and flesh withered and glowing as if bathed in a radiation similar to that of the night sky causing a small radius of air the to shimmer distorting light and making it appear that it was emitting heat from its body.
Everyone is utterly frozen. Only two of the seven men who came had actually encountered one of these creatures before. Yet never nothing like this. Maybe a dog or a goat or even a horse type but never have they heard anything about a humanoid shape creature of the apocalypse.
The creature cracked it's neck and stretched its stiffened bones. As it's cold distant blue eyes fell upon them the creature's grogginess seemed to fade and it's face which was once devoid of all countenance now twitched contorting with expressions it struggled to contain.
It stomped them wailed at them with the tone of the suffering souls that played in the background. It's fierceness sent most of the men scattering to the ground. Their skin littered with goosebumps while others quivered. Out of the rest of the sand pits more emerged all sporting the same monstrous expression of rage.
Again it wailed causing the men to tumble backwards once more as all the creatures slowly stomped towards them as if marching.
"Groups of two, back to the van!" The boss yelled.
Another wail and the creatures took off with a massive leap using their limbs too swing on the trees in a unhumanly fashion. The first of them about to pounce on Jethro.
He swung his shotgun off his shoulder and fired into the creatures face knocking himself to the ground. It came down on him, scraping, clawing and biting but couldn't reach it's target. Jethro had held it back by holding his gun in its mouth. The creature stared from the nozzle to him as if questioning his sanity. A squeeze of the trigger blasted its head into chunks.
"Move it!" He ushered the others to pick up their pace as he and the boss stayed on the back lines trying to suppress the creatures movements with accurate fire at their limb.
Stalling was all they could hope for since the one that Jethro had taken down was already reconstructing a head.
There was no stopping, no killing them. They were the eternal plague of the wastelands of the apocalypse. Humanities exterminator choose by the new God who made it clear that a wolf wasn't what awaited those sheep who disobead the shepherd, it was but the butchers.