Until that moment, no one besides the Keeper had touched her. He had guarded her during her imprisonment. It appeared that had now changed. It was at that moment that her shame turned to anger.
If the men would have been looking at her eyes and not her naked body, they would have seen her eyes flashing. Her grey eyes turned dark. If they had looked into her eyes deep enough, they would have seen her irises swirling, resembling a storm. Beneath her anger, she could feel the rage fueling the anger. She felt alive.
The man who was not touching her happened to glance at her face, hoping to enjoy the expression of horror at being touched the way she was (it was obvious they were going to take turns). The emotion was not horror and the man’s perverse grin was checked.
The man who was touching her erupted in flames. The second man had only time enough to hear the cry and feel the flames from his companion before he was engulfed as well. The flames also burned Triana but she didn’t care. As the men were distracted by her body, she had slid the weapon of one of the men from its place on his hip. Among the settings of the weapon was the ejection of an intense bolide.
The men fell backwards onto the rock floor and the flames intensified as the men were roasted within their own skin. She watched the men writhing with a grim smile as they slowly died before her.
She rose from the Stone and could smell their burned hair and flesh. The bodies still smoldered and smoke rose from their corpses as she stepped over them. The heat had been so intense and the flames had risen so rapidly that the two bodies that had already begun to show pyrolysis.
Triana’s anger firmed her resolve. She walked to the doorway of the Chamber and turned and looked back at the Stone. Recent memories of the Keeper and her lying together on the Stone entered her mind and her rage turned red.
She leveled the weapon and pressed the button; the air around the Stone erupted in flames. She fired again and again and the intensity of the heat grew until the temperature of the air directly around the Stone reached solidus. The Stone slowly began to melt, collapsing to become a blob of semi-molten rock. She knew the sword that had been concealed in the Stone was among the ruins.
Satisfied, she turned her attention to her surroundings. She entered a long tunnel that ran straight through the rock. She had expected to see some of the Klopph as she left the Chamber but she saw no one. Perhaps the Chamber was a sacred place reserved for only specific Klopph.
The floor of the passageway had an increasing upward angle as she walked. She passed several side chambers as she continued but did not stop to investigate any of these. Several of the side chambers had metal bars across their entrances.
Finally she reached a large chamber that was lit by natural light through small shafts cut into the ceiling. Along the walls of the round chamber, she saw several other passageways leading off in various directions. There were eight passageways in all.
As she entered the room, she saw several men stand in alarm at her arrival. Before they could react, her weapon ignited them.
She walked further into the room, her eyes gazing constantly for the Keeper. She did not see him.
The passageway directly across the room from where she entered was more lit than the other passageways. That was the passageway for which she headed. As she walked, more men entered the room and they died in flames as well. She entered the lit passageway, leaving the screams of smoldering men behind her.
The passageway went on for quite some time and then branched off in several directions. Finally the passageway ended in sunlight. Unclothed, with no water, food, or any supplies or weapons, but alive, Triana entered the Barren Lands.
CHAPTER TEN
New Orleans was remarkably untouched.
The fifty six people who had survived and now dwelled within the facility sent a team of five people to investigate the surrounding areas. They wanted to determine the damage and see what was being done by the government to reestablish control. What they found was that most people were dead – killed by violence or crushed under fallen structures.
Among the five was a man named Jacques. Jacques was a native of New Orleans where his Creole family had lived for hundreds of years. And as far as he could tell he was the last surviving member of his family.
His entire family had lived in the Garden District and these homes were the first place that Jacques went. He found only bodies of loved ones and evidence of great violence.
Jacques was not the same going forward. Something inside of him had closed up at witnessing the assaulted bodies of his mother and sister. The scene told the story of their death. His father’s body was found with his throat slit.
The homes of the rest of his family told similar stories. Bodies of his cousins, his aunts and uncles, and his lone grandmother – all found. The root of their deaths was very evident.
Morosely, Jacques followed his people around the city, looking for signs of life. There were several other small groups of people but they kept their distance. The people of the city had seen great violence and the other groups were not taking any chances. Jacques’ assemblage saw very few people outside of those gatherings.
The last group they came across was not so unapproachable. The group of eight men had seen Jacques’ group as an easy target. Armed with guns, they expected surprise and intimidation to rule the encounter. Jacques did not comply. He held a
