Jonis - Rowan Erlking (web based ebook reader .TXT) 📗

it. What you do not know is that the plague was worse than we had suspected.”

He paused to let this information sink in. The people had drawn in surprised breaths, whispering among themselves. The captain did not resume talking until he was sure what to say next.

“Listen. You have all been gathered here, because you are the survivors,” he said. “Those of your loved ones that are infected, are in fact already dead.”

Screams and wails burst out and rippled through the crowd. Several people fainted. Others shouted it wasn’t true and demanded to be released to fetch their sick family.

The captain shouted over the noise. “It was not a plague that infected our city, but demon parasites that kill upon inhabiting their human hosts.”

The crowd hushed in a gasp.

“Demon worms inhabited those people, laying eggs inside their bodies. You were their next prey.” The captain’s voice trembled. “Every one had to be destroyed, or they would have killed us all.”

“Prove it!” one man shouted.

Cries from the crowd screeched out—louder and soon even louder, demanding proof.

Jonis stepped forward. “You want proof? Go outside then! See the fire! See the burning worms! You can’t rescue the dead!”

“I have proof!” Lt. Laslow said, marching up to the front of the room. He gestured to one of his soldiers. That man nodded and stepped into the crowd, making people part as he and others converged on one man in the midst of them. That man cowered, turning to run. His eyes were barely yellow.

“We missed this one in our search. I saw him run into the crowd. He was trying to escape. Here is your proof,” the lieutenant said.

When they seized the man, he kicked and screamed, struggling for freedom. The soldiers dragged him onto the stage.

Jonis stepped back to watch.

The lieutenant lifted up the gold chain from his own neck, showing it to the people. “This is a demon chain. It only works on demons and people inhabited by demons.”

He lassoed it around the captive’s neck. The man collapsed to the floor as if staked there, panting. Several in the crowd screamed with gawking mouths and bulgy eyes.

“Notice how he cannot get up or take it off,” the lieutenant said. He then eyed Jonis, pulling out another chain from his pocket. Jonis took a step back. “It works on all demons.”

He tossed it. Jonis jumped back. The chain hit the floor, missing him by feet.

“Don’t you throw that at me! I’m a fellow solider!” Jonis shouted at him, practically recoiling to the other side of the captain.

The people murmured.

“See?” the lieutenant said. “Even he is afraid of it.”

Jonis was not afraid of the chain. In fact, he knew the chain would have no effect on him, but Jonis had decided it was best to let people think they had some advantage over him to make them feel safe. He had let the other soldiers handle the chains on purpose to give them that feeling. In truth, he could have done the job all by himself. It would have been a gory mess, but he could have done it. His ancestors had dealt with plagues nearly as bad.

The infected man began to choke, spitting up bile and blood. Out of his mouth slimed the worm, oozing to the floor.

“This is what we are infected with!” the lieutenant shouted.

The crowd watched the man collapse to the stage floor. The worm slimed on the stage, searching for another host. Twisting its long body, it coiled like a spring and jumped for the nearest man—the captain.

“No!” Jonis shouted, quickly hacking the thing in two. He whacked it again and again with his sword, panting fiercely over it. The thing shrieked, writhing, even in pieces, on the stage.

All eyes fell on him.

“Private Jonis Macoy was sent to us just this morning to end the plague,” Cap. Powal announced loudly to all the people. “Today, you owe him your lives.”

Jonis panted, turning once and drawing a circle around the corpse and worm. He recited the incantation and set the spell. Lt. Laslow opened a bottle he was carrying and poured the liquid on the corpses. Lighting a match, he set it afire.

“All dead must be burned,” the captain said. “This prevents the worm eggs from hatching and spreading to other people. Tonight, you will all return home. If for some reason you find a dead body or a worm in the city, run from it. Do not touch it. Report it immediately to us. If you have alcohol or petrol, use it and set the thing on fire. Do not get close to them. Do not check if they are alive. Any close contact may result in your infection and instant death.”

The captain stepped back and lowered his megaphone.

“Any questions?” Jonis asked, shouting as loudly as possible.

The soldiers smirked at one another, knowing lots of questions would come.

 

Chapter Thirteen: Meeting Hunters

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Demon-hunting paraphernalia…

are items specifically made to deal with demons using

written magic, drawn magic, and spoken magic.”

 

 

 

 

 

Two days after Jonis’s arrival to Ladis, the fires at the hospital had become only smoke and ash. The military set the fire again after it had died down the first time, making sure all the bodies and worms were incinerated. Smoke and ash filled most of the cracks in the city, leaving dark smudge stains on the once white stone. The soldiers had also routed out several demon worms hiding in the mortuary among the dead bodies. And the graveyard on the outskirts was burned over—focusing mostly on the fresh graves. Once these searches were complete, the people were finally allowed to return to their homes.

From thereon, the military headed the city clean up under the direction of the city patriarch. They took a census several times, counting and naming the survivors, as well as collecting the reports of those who were dead. In the end, a total of two hundred and seventeen individuals had been killed by the parasite infestation, and that was counting those who had died before Jonis had come to the city.

At the end of the second day, Jonis was allowed a complete rest. He had been on his feet working alongside the men in their hunts for over forty-eight hours—though he had been awake since he received his orders at Dalis Camp nearly four days ago. The captain let him sleep in his office chair inside the demon ward as they had yet to assign him a place in the barracks.

Early in the morning on the third day of Jonis’s arrival to Ladis, the airport began to accept flights and the trains rolled in and out once more. And Jonis awoke, sliding off the swivel desk chair and landing flat on his backside, groaning from pain.

“Good morning.” The captain stood over him with a wide smirk on his lips. “I’m glad you are awake. I need my office, and you have work to do.”

Jonis got to his feet, rubbing the crick in his neck. He stretched his sore back. “What work do you have for me today, sir?”

Cap. Powal smiled. “I need you to work with the city planner today. The city patriarch likes your demon circles at the city gates, and he recommends that you make more of them around the city—and more permanently. The paint is scraping off where there has been a lot of traffic.”

“That is a problem,” Jonis said with a moan, rubbing his rear end.

“But first, take a shower and get a clean uniform on. You are a representative of the Brein Amon army after all.” The captain was still grinning, though.

Saluting him, Jonis sighed with three days worth of exhaustion still not caught up. “Yes, sir.”

He left the office, rushing past the new secretary who waved at him.

It was strange.

Most of the soldiers treated him like a celebrity, the savior of that town, but they still skirted around him, staring at his blue eyes. Jonis did not know which he preferred, being picked on for being a Cordril and then later liked as a friend, or being treated like a hero but feared as a demon—a smelly demon that hadn’t washed in three days, at that.

Jonis found his duffel bag in the kitchen upstairs. The tables were still shoved to the side, and the demon circle was now all dry paint on the floor. The burnt remains of worms and men had been entirely swept up. Someone still had to scrub the floor though. It was caked with slime and ash.

Taking his bag, he trotted back down the stairs with a hop over the last step and jogged through the doors out onto the street. Rubbing his hands through his greasy scalp, Jonis peered over the houses to remember where a public bath was. During the cleanup the day before, he traveled almost the entire city.

Ladis was quite a large walled city, almost completely made of smooth gray stone. The nicer wood and stone structures were at the top of the city on the hill, ornately carved and beautifully painted. But he headed further down the streets where they narrowed into areas that had steps rather than roads. The homes in this area were decorated with less elaborate carvings in the molding—except on the main thoroughfare where things were showy. Yet the awnings that overlooked the small roads were often draped in colorful canvas with hand painted flower boxes full of draping plants. The gutters in between large buildings all had mossy grates where people dumped waste into the sewers which ran down hill. The alleys were even narrower here, but most of these paths were swept clean. The people of Ladis obviously took pride in their city.

Drawing in a breath and peering over the rooftops where the hospital fire had burned, Jonis remembered the location with a smile. The public baths were in that direction. Looking at the blue sky, he marched off into the road, grinning with relief for the break.

City cleanup continued all around him. People scrubbed the cobblestone and doors and floors with a prescribed solution Jonis had prescribed and partially distributed to remove all slime, grime and ash off the ground. It was preventive maintenance. No worm demon would even like the smell of the city. Not one would even dare enter in let alone go near the gates. The odor on the air was a mixture of vinegar and spices. Even Jonis found his sinuses irritated by the fumes—but then almost everyone who scrubbed wore facemasks to protect themselves from the vapors.

People stopped cleaning when they saw him pass by. They watched as he hiked up the hill. Some ran into their houses. Others just stared. That is, until a few children ran up near him and stopped on the curb.

Their mothers called them back.

Jonis wondered if his three day layer of grease and grime made him even worse to look at.

That group contained mostly teenaged boys who were actually a bit older than Jonis. They gathered on a street corner and called out to him: “Hey soldier! Stop for a second.”

Jonis did stop. He turned and blinked, waiting for them to say something.

One of the boys approached him, goaded on by his friends in some form of a dare. Yet he still kept enough distance between