The King of Mars

Mineshaft Main was a labyrinth of tunnels inside of Silver Hill. Sarge and Wheels wove through the smoky corridors with me at their heels, I would be completely lost if they fell from my sight. I suppose that this is the safest place I could be in the wasteland, but the way that the torches made the shadows flicker on the uneven walls gave me the serious creeps.

"What is the point of this place?" I asked the two men moving along ahead of me. I haven't seen another person since we entered the mountain. I know it was night outside, but the silence here was too complete. At least outside you could hear laughter from inside a tavern or someone coughing in their sleep.

"Damn, kid, you're like a fuckin' toddler." Sarge grunted. "All these fuckin' questions and shit."

"What Sarge meant to say," Wheels cut in, "is that this place is used mostly for storage, shelter, and guests. Most people choose to live outside. Folks tend to like the air and sun, go figure. But, in times of need, the mountain offers protection. It's a natural fortress."

"Protection from what?" I wondered.

"Vicious raider attacks, ash storms," Sarge counted off on his fingers. "Feldgrau..."

"Feldgrau?"

"The Greymen," Wheels said. "Greymen. Dusks. Uroks. They have lotsa names," Wheels explained. "You don't ever wanna meet them." He added.

"What the hell are they? A particular raider clan or something?"

"They're monsters." Sarge said. "No one really knows what the fuck those things are. Mutants, maybe. Creatures from the center of the Earth, awaken after the bombs fell. Don't really matter to me, all I know is if I see one, I kill it."

"Mutants huh?” I raised an eyebrow. “What do they look like?"

"They look like they sound," Wheels chuckled. "The Greymen are grey people. Well, sorta people. They have the same shape as us mostly, but a few feet taller and way more ripped up. They're also savage, inhuman beasts. They make the worst of raiders look like kids fucking around on a playground."

"I met a few of them once," Sarge said, a distant look on his shadowy face. "Caught me out in the Hills. Nearly killed me. Said they were gonna burn me alive and eat my bones. I got this from the fires." Sarge pulled up his clothing to reveal a massive, brutal burn that spread across his entire back. "Half dead from the torture when my boys and Wheels’ bro came and saved me while they were asleep." He let the shirt fall back in place. "I don't like Feldgrau..."

I didn't like the sound of them either. We were quiet for the rest of our trip through the Main, descending deeper into the ground, the torches spread further and further apart. "Those freaks seem to like it here," Sarge muttered as we came close to an opening in the rock. "Here all the time while they ain't workin' with us outside."

A little further down the corridor, what I assumed to be one of the Children of Ash greeted us at the entrance of a large cavern. "Here to see Ashtote," Sarge said, "gotta friend who wants to talk to him."

"Lord Ashtoret is happy to oblige, sir," The grey-robed, hairless man said pleasantly, gesturing us inside. "Be right back, I'll let him know you're here."

I looked around the dimly lit cavern; other shaved and robed people were arranged in circles throughout the stone room, on their knees and muttering softly. I guessed that they were praying. I almost wanted to ask what they were praying for, but the chanting of the shadowy grey figures set me on edge, everything about this mountain so far fucking creeped me out.

The one who greeted us came back and directed us to follow him with a smile. We stepped around the groups of creepy worshippers and into another, smaller cavern. A solitary man sat at the center of the room. His back was to us; his posture was stiff and rigid, sitting cross legged with his arms raised laterally to his side.

"Lord Ashtoret, the sergeant is here. I shall see myself out." The Child of Ash ushered our group inside and left the man in the center of the room alone with us.

Sarge muttered after him, "It's just Sarge, actually..." We stood there awkwardly while Ashtoret finished his chanting. I couldn't make out much about the robed leader of the cult, only that the hands at the end of his arms seemed horribly disfigured, only I couldn't quite tell how.
When the hum of the chanting stopped, the cult leader finally addressed us. "Ah, our benefactor. How may I be of assistance?"

"That friend with the brother I told you about, he's here." Sarge said. "He wants to ask you something."

Wheels glared at the back of Sarge's head, I thought he was about to attack the man. But a low murmur from Ashtoret brought my attention back to him. With a surprised "oh?" and a gentle ruffle, the mangled hands slowly pulled down the grey hood. I almost gave a gasp of disgust when I saw what was hidden underneath.

There was no hair at all on Ashtoret's head. He stood slowly and turned towards us, "You'll have to forgive me for not jumping with excitement. I'm in a lot of pain you see." The robed, bald man explained. I could see why. Hideous burns covered his whole face. There were no eyebrows, no facial hair, no lips. His ears looked like melting strips of flesh stuck to the side of his head. A pink tongue licked the spot where his lips should have been and, fixing his permanently narrowed eyes on us, asked, "How may I be of service?"

Reluctantly, Wheels stepped forward. "My brother, his name was Rance, looked a lot like me just taller. We got separated about five years ago. I heard you were real smart, so was he. We thought maybe you might’ve knew him?"

"I apologize, I cannot help you. If I did meet someone fitting your description, they would be long gone from my memory." Ashtoret said, his soft voice filled with, what sounded like, genuine regret.

"Yeah, I expected as much." Wheels said, not seeming too disappointed. "Are you happy, Sarge?"

"Damn," Sarge cursed. "Sorry, man. I really thought he might be able to help."

"I despise feeling useless," Ashtoret spoke up. "Our modest family will be moving along soon. Thank you again for your hospitality." He nodded at Sarge and looked back at Wheels. "If you and your friend would like to tag along, you are certainly more than welcome to." I was sort of startled that he included me. Standing behind the two men, at the entrance to the room, I didn't think I was even noticed.

"No thanks," Wheels said. "Well, whatever. Let's go." I immediately obliged, I wanted to put as much distance as possible between this Ashtoret guy and me. The burned man's gaze moved from Wheels and fixed on me, and it stayed there. I could feel it burning into the back of my head as we left the cavern.

Stepping again around the still-chanting cultists, we made our way to the entrance. I stole one last glance to the entrance of Ashtoret's cave and saw, to my horror, the cult leader was standing there.

Still looking at me.

Even after we left the Children of Ash in their cave to do their chanting, even after we circled back through the tunnels of Silver Hill, I could feel the narrow eyes on the back of my head. Even when Wheels and I were put in an empty shed, save for two mats on the floor, and I lay down to sleep, I could feel those eyes.

Still looking. Still watching.