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                                  Andrew Roller Presents
 
                                   THE FADING UNIVERSE

                         _/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/_/

                                          Chapter Four

         The boulevard was dark and deserted.  A makeshift barricade had 
been thrown across it in an unsuccessful attempt to hold back the 
Alameda army; Marvin could make out the bright letters of the word 
POLICE on an overturned sawhorse, and nearby an armored personnel 
carrier with an Ontario insignia painted on its side sat useless, its 
tread torn from the body and tangled between the sprockets of its 
wheels.  Here and there lay a uniformed corpse. 
          "We're back in business," Frankie announced, running forward to 
strip the soldiers and policemen of their weapons and valuables.
         "I claim any food that you find on them," Flaherty yelled.
         "Save any tampons you find for Elsa," Perry said with a weak 
laugh.  Elsa shot him an angry glance but said nothing.
         Within a few minutes they had sorted through all the bodies.  
Perry had gone aside and, in an act of mad catharsis, castrated several 
of the dead.  Marvin spotted Flaherty giving a particularly thorough 
search to one female soldier who had noticeably large breasts.
           They continued walking; past gutted buildings, boarded up shops 
and abandoned tenements.  Now and then they would stop and peer 
inside one of the stores, but most had been ruined by fire, their 
interiors glowing eerily with flickering embers.
         "Hey, Marv," Harrigan called out.  "There's a city bus inside this 
store!"
           "We must have found the local city bus dealer," Marvin joked.  He 
peered past the plywood that had been nailed over the storefront 
window.  The beam of his police flashlight fell on a smashed up bus.  "It 
must have crashed through the back of the building," he thought aloud.  
He directed his flashlight deeper into the shop but couldn't make out 
the rear wall in the gloom.
         By this time Harrigan had managed to jimmy the front door open 
and he, Frankie, and Flaherty were banging around inside the store.
         "Sure stinks in here," Harrigan remarked.
         "Quit letting so many farts, Flaherty," Frankie said.
         "I haven't cut any cheese all day," Flaherty protested.
         Harrigan gave a frightened shout.  His flashlight clattered to the 
floor as he began battering himself with blows.  Frankie dashed over to 
the man and began beating him with his palms.
         "Help!  Insects," Frankie cried.
         Flaherty bolted out the front door of the shop.  Marvin and Elsa ran 
inside, Perry hung by the door.
         A minute later Harrigan stumbled out of the store's murky 
interior, shaken but safe.
         "Do you need any help?"  Perry asked, purposely tardy in his offer 
of assistance.
         "No, I'm O.K., thanks," Harrigan mumbled.
         "You alright, Harrigan?"  Flaherty called from across the street.
         Inside the store the bus's engine coughed to life.  Its one 
surviving headlight blazed through the gloom of the store, blinding 
Perry, Frankie, and Harrigan.  The bus lurched forward, and burst 
through the glass storefront a moment later.
         Marvin opened the front door of the bus and kicked out a dead 
body.  Several cockroaches clung to the corpse as it hit the asphalt.
         "Climb aboard," Marvin invited.  "It costs a dollar, but I'll waive 
the fee as long as you promise to abstain from anal sex."
         "Harrigan and I each have a dollar," Frankie said, dropping the 
money in the bus's coin box.
         Elsa helped Perry climb aboard, despite the boy's protestations 
that he could mount the steps himself.
         "Boy, this sure beats walking," Flaherty said, hurrying over from 
across the avenue.
         Harrigan plunked down behind the wheel, folded shut the front 
door, and with a wheeze, the bus rambled off down the dim 
thoroughfare.

# # #

         Agile figures sprinted amidst the shadows.
         "I think we've got company," Harrigan reported.  He reached up and 
changed the cellophane sign on the front of the bus from "15th Street" 
to "Not in Service." 
          "Leatherjackets," Elsa breathed.
         "Hey, we need a lift," a silhouette called from the curb.
         "It's Harrigan!" someone shouted.  "Harrigan's the driver!"
         A salvo of gunfire shattered the windows along the left side of 
the bus.
         "Duck down," Marvin commanded.  He crouched behind a broken 
window and returned fire.
         Gaudily dressed figures, most of them young males, ran out behind 
the vehicle as it passed and threw Molotov cocktails at it.  Explosions 
rocked the bus.
         Perry leaned out the back window, shouting curses.
         Suddenly a convertible rushed out of an alley and came up 
alongside the bus.
         "Fuck you, Marvin," one of the passengers shouted, firing a 
bazooka into the bus.  Marvin dove to the floor of the bus as the blast 
tore off a section of the roof above his head.
         "Damn, they've picked up some pretty heavy artillery," Marvin 
muttered.
         "They ain't so smart," Frankie grinned at him.  The dwarf leapt 
onto a seat and nimbly pitched a concussion grenade into the 
convertible.  A cry went up, the car careened toward the pavement, and 
a moment later an explosion erupted.  The bus sped past the wreckage.

# # #
                  "What's that humming sound?"  Marvin asked worriedly.  He 
was standing inside God knows who's apartment, on the second floor of 
a building.  It fronted one of a myriad of dingy little streets that 
crisscrossed the city.  Outside their bus lay uselessly on its side, 
smack up against the wall of the building.  
         Marvin figured the Leatherjackets had never needed Òa lift.Ó  
TheyÕd used that little ruse themselves, he and Perry, to rob more than 
one motorist.   
         A dilapidated pickup truck had shown amazing fortitude in 
pursuing them.  And there were other vehicles, somewhere in the 
distance, following fast.  The chase had gone full throttle, high-speed, 
two Somali-like Òtechnical vehiclesÓ exchanging gunfire back and 
forth.  Except one was a pickup that belonged in a junkyard and the 
other was a city bus.  Together they blazed through torn-up sections of 
Ontario.  It was a dance of death between two suicidal lovers. 
         Harrigan had gotten something of a lead, fought for amidst the 
twists and turns of the interlocking streets.  But their lead wasnÕt 
much.  In the end, it cost them their bus.  Well, the cityÕs bus, actually, 
but whether there was any real ÒcityÓ left now was debatable.  
Harrigan had lost his balance on the last turn.  TheyÕd capsized and slid 
painfully across the road.    
         Marvin was standing on the capsized bus, feeling like some sailor 
on top of a yellow whale, when heÕd seen the LeatherjacketsÕ pickup 
lurch into view.  Their vehicle was smaller.  It made the turn. Quickly 
Marvin hoisted Perry up through a window on the side of the bus.  
Frankie was leaning out a window on the second floor of the tenement, 
firing at the Leatherjackets.  Marvin dragged Perry across the 
overturned metal bus and shoved him up into FrankieÕs window.  The 
dwarf sniped at Perry for screwing up his aim.  Perry complained that 
the dwarfÕs gun had gone off in his ear.  Marvin could see himself 
getting a metal enema before either of them let him through.  
         Now what?  HeÕd gotten inside two seconds before the enema 
arrived, but where was he?  He let his eyes graze the dirty walls.  
Behind him Frankie was back at dueling with the Leatherjackets.  
Marvin heard a wail as one of them was hit.  ÒWeÕre outnumbered, 
though,Ó a little voice chirped in MarvinÕs head.  ÒGet your bearings and 
get your ass in gear.Ó  Marvin glanced at an old television.  The screen 
was busted.  Maybe Elvis had stopped here for the night, been upset 
with the quality of the programming.  Yeah, this place had been trashed 
even before the Alameda army had come through.  They werenÕt in the 
high-rent district, that was for sure.  But then, they never were.  
         Batman, of course, would simply have slipped up to the buildingÕs 
roof and leapt across to another building.  But Marvin wasnÕt Batman.  
And neither was Perry, for that matter.  Perry wasnÕt even Perry 
anymore.  When Marvin first met the boy he was shrewd, calculating, a 
modern Hitler.  Now Perry, like Hitler, had gone insane.  When he wasnÕt 
ranting about some perceived injustice he was laying plans for an 
impossible conquest.  Meanwhile, Marvin kept about the day to day work 
of keeping them all alive.  With a little help from his friends.  Frankie 
especially, too short for most people to notice but absolutely deadly 
with a gun.  A gun taller than he was.  And Harrigan, a walking 
advertisement for everyoneÕs notion of what a child molester should 
look like, but surprisingly cool under fire.  It was HarriganÕs expert 
driving that had just saved them...again.  (While Perry screamed useless 
insults out the back window of the bus.)  Of course, there was Elsa.  
When she wasnÕt too busy playing Òriot grrrlÓ fashion model.  She was 
O.K.  And Flaherty?  He seemed more trouble than he was worth.  But he 
stuck doggedly with the group.  You couldnÕt get rid of him if you 
wanted too.  Marvin figured as long as someone wasnÕt shooting at you, 
they were on your side. 
         But now they seemed to have walked into a trap of their own 
making.  TheyÕd fucked up the bus, and now there were Leatherjackets 
outside, working their way in toward the building.  One dwarf with a 
rifle couldnÕt keep them at bay for long.  
         "Insects!"  Elsa screamed from the hall.  Marvin ran forward.  He 
found her standing at the top of a staircase, gazing down at the hallway 
on the first floor.  Marvin dashed over to her and peered down.  
Thousands of black cockroaches covered the floor below.  
         ÒOh, shit!Ó Marvin cursed.  Well, one benefit of the insects was 
that theyÕd keep the Leatherjackets out.  But it was like a pact with the 
Devil.  He didnÕt want to get shot by the Leatherjackets.  Then again, 
that was nothing to getting eaten alive by bugs.  The black mass below 
writhed, as if it were some giant beast, sniffing the wind.  Suddenly, as 
if responding to some primal cue, they rushed up the stairs.  It was a 
flood.  A flood that flowed uphill, and it was fast.
         "Frankie!"  Marvin called out frantically.  The dwarf was still 
merrily preoccupied with trying to kill his fellow man.  His shots rang 
out the apartment window.
         ÒHee!  Go to mama!Ó Frankie chirped to himself as he offed 
another Leatherjacket.  ÒAnother Leatherjerkoff gone!Ó
         ÒAnd only twenty million to go,Ó Marvin muttered aloud.  Wildly 
he turned his head to try to locate everyone.
         Flaherty, Harrigan, and even the enfeebled Perry were shooting 
their asses up the stairs to the third floor, leaving Marvin and Elsa 
behind.  At the top step Harrigan whirled about, realizing that Frankie 
wasn't with him.  Usually the dwarf could be counted on to be right at 
his heels.  But Frankie loved killing even more than fucking.  
         Marvin dashed into the room and grabbed the dwarf.  He scooped 
him up, like you would a small child.  There was no time for dignity, no 
time to ask permission.  He ran from the room and dashed up the stairs 
to the next floor.  Behind him he heard shocked cries from the 
Leatherjackets.  TheyÕd used the capsized bus as a staircase into the 
second floor of the building.  ÒGuess they didnÕt know the building had 
tenants after all,Ó Marvin thought.  The carnivorous kind, smaller than 
Frankie and much more deadly.  Impossible to kill too, outnumbering 
even the Leatherjackets themselves.  As they climbed through the 
second-story window the Leatherjackets dropped haplessly into the 
roaches.
         ÒSo much for the advance guard,Ó Marvin muttered.  But there 
would be more, many more.  There were always plenty of 
Leatherjackets.
         Marvin glanced over his shoulder at Elsa.  SheÕd made it, thank 
God.  Up the stairs while he was in the room with Frankie.  She was 
swatting off one or two hardy little bastards that had managed to catch 
onto her jeans.  The rest of the insects had gone straigt for the 
Leatherjackets.  May as well eat everything on the second floor before 
going up to the third.  Bug psychology.  Psychology Today, courtesy of 
the roaches of the world.  Eat whatÕs fallen on the floor before you race 
up the stairs for more.  Bugs didnÕt go for the bone in the river when 
they were holding one in their jaws.
         "Gee, thanks Marv, I'd forgotten about Frankie," Harrigan said.
         Marvin turned his glance away from Elsa.  He grinned at his trusty 
driver.  "You almost had to go out and buy yourself an inflatable doll," 
Marvin quipped.
         "Do they make inflatable male dolls?"  Flaherty asked.
         "Not for you," Frankie replied.  "Sorry."
         "I resent that!"  Flaherty objected.  "Marvin, tell Frankie to quit 
picking on me!"
         "Oh, go fuck your empty potato chip bag," Elsa snapped.
         ÒLetÕs get going,Ó Marvin said.  Now was not the time for 
squabbling and backbiting.  But then, ÒnowÓ never was.  They seemed 
always to be on the run lately, as if Death had decided their time was 
up.  Was it playing with them, watching them Òtwist in the wind,Ó so to 
speak?  Or was Death just a little slow.  After all, centuries of killing 
could slow anyone down.  Maybe the Grim Reaper had developed 
arthritis.  It was chasing them, just not quite fast enough.  Not yet.           
ÒLook for a fire escape!Ó Marvin called ahead.  They needed something to 
get them up out of the hallway on the third floor.  The top floor, it was, 
the tip top floor for this slum dwellingÕs must exclusive tenants.  
Perhaps there would be a helpful sign.  ÒThis way to roof.Ó  Or, 
ÒEscaping insects?  Right this way.Ó  Someone should make signs like 
that.  ÒIn case of total societal collapse, follow the yellow arrows.Ó
         As luck would have it, the roof had fallen in.  Around the corner, 
down the hall.  Of course, there wasnÕt always supposed to be a roof.  
Sometimes one floor just merged with another.  Now, though, concrete 
reinforced layers blocked any upward movement, to keep one class of 
people from Òacting suspiciouslyÓ in the neighborhood of another.  
Ontario had drawn inward over the years, before the War that had ended 
its empire once and for all.  Then, rebuilding after the War, it had built 
more walls between its citizens, even more than it had built during the 
decline preceeding the Great and Final War, as some called it.  Now 
buildings that were supposed to connect the floors often didnÕt.   
         ÒExcellent!Ó Perry announced, upon viewing their route to the 
roof.  It was as if the boy thought heÕd created it himself.  In fact, it 
was Harrigan whoÕd sallied ahead to find it.  With Frankie, of course, 
always with Frankie tagging along, directing the man where to go.  
Harrigan happily obeyed his beloved dwarf.  And together they found 
things like escape routes made out of collapsed roofing materials.
         Harrigan and Frankie went up first, with Perry just behind, and 
Flaherty.  Marvin helped Elsa over the tumbled roof slabs, while keeping 
one eye on PerryÕs less-than-athletic efforts.  ÒDonÕt take up mountain 
climbing, Perry,Ó Marvin thought to himself.  Of course, Perry wouldnÕt 
take up mountain climbing.  HeÕd ask that the mountain be delivered to 
him.  Surely Marvin could find a way.  ÒAfter all, why do you think I 
consent to having you in my gang?Ó Perry would ask Marvin, as if his 
friend remained dismissable at will.  As if Perry could just go on 
without him.  Marvin wondered if Perry realized their ÒgangÓ was down 
to himself, two sodomites, an airhead and a fatso.
         A few moments later Marvin stepped out onto the rooftop.  The 
gloom of the city spread itself before him.  Someone had blasted 
through here recently, reducing many of the nearby buildings to rubble.  
The air filters must be working overtime to clear the place.  Thanks to 
the man-made view, Marvin could get some sense of where he was from 
this vantage point.  There were buildings, of course, as far as the eye 
could see, some merging upward into the floor above, some topped off 
with a roof like this one was.  He thought he saw the Emery building in 
the distance.  There was still a lot of smoke hanging in the air, 
obscuring everything, distorting it.  Garish arc lamps stretched across 
the ceiling at regular intervals; marching off into the distance.  Many 
were burned out.  What little light they did provide seemed to turn the 
overhanging smoke into wraiths and spirits of Doom.  In the glow you 
could just make out the cityscape, once thriving, now a haunt of 
Leatherjackets, perverts, roaches, the remnants of a society gone mad.  
And now there was some new war ravaging Ontario.  Some unknown 
army from far away, come to conquer and kill.  As if Death didnÕt have 
enough victims already.
         ÒI think we can get across, Marv!Ó Frankie called out in his 
pipsqueak voice.  He and Harrigan were over at one end of the roof, 
sizing up a new escape route.  ÒThank God for a breakdown in city 
planning,Ó Marvin thought.  Someone had built a rickety ladder up into a 
little hole that was cut into the ceiling above.  It was on the next roof 
over, of course (nothing was free in this universe), but there was a 
board connecting the two roofs.  Worn, wiggly-looking (Elsa might look 
nice going across it), but Hell they could manage a fucking board, 
couldnÕt they?  Below, Marvin heard gunfire.  Or, rather, he let it seep 
back into his consciousness. The Leatherjackets sounded like they were 
trying to blast their way through the roaches.  Dumb, dumb.  (Marvin 
hoped.)  There were cries of agony as some Leatherjackets got shot or 
eaten.  Death throes.  Cries of anger and frustration.
         Marvin let his eyes refocus on the board.  Frankie was already on 
the other side now, scampering over to the makeshift ladder.
         ÒHey, Marv!  I think this thing might go up into a WEALTHY section 
of town!Ó Frankie called out gleefully, peering up, his voice just 
audible.  TheyÕd built soundproofing into the walls and the roofs, into 
the very material the buildings were made of, a thousand years ago, to 
cut down on the echoes youÕd normally expect to get.  Walls, roofs, with 
a ceiling above, voices should bounce all over the place, but they didnÕt.  
Marvin had to shout to make himself heard by the dwarf.
         ÒLetÕs hope theyÕve all been killed and we can loot the place,Ó 
Marvin called back.  ÔCourse weÕd need someplace to spend whatever we 
got.  Details, details.  
         ÒMarvin, this will be the beginning of our new offensive!Ó Perry 
announced to him grandly.  He stood with one foot on the board, waiting 
for Harrigan to get across before he himself went over.
         ÒDonÕt break it!Ó Flaherty called out.  Either heÕd been slow (for 
once) to get across first and save his own skin, or Flaherty was letting 
Harrigan test the board for him.  Dwarf-crossings didnÕt count when you 
were a fatboy like Flaherty.
         ÒWith this offensive we shall have Ontario entirely within our 
grasp!Ó Perry crowed.  There was a manic grin on his face.  His hair, 
uncombed as usual, hung slant-wise across his eyes.  Perry swept it out 
of the way with an exaggerated gesture.  ÒDeutschland!Ó seemed poised 
on his lips.  Or something Germanic, anyway.  Nazi Socialism.  The 
Power of the Will.  
         ÒIÕll stand on the board while you walk across,Ó Marvin offered.
         ÒVery well.  I shall make my crossing now,Ó Perry said.  And off 
he went, awkward as ever, the board bulging ominously downward as he 
stepped out.
         ÒHurry up,Ó Marvin thought.  Yet, if he hurried, the boy might 
plunge to his death.  But if he didnÕt, Marvin might have to play host to 
the bugs.  ÒWelcome to our fine rooftop restaurant.  Your dinner is 
served!Ó
         ÒI should have gone next!  I got here first!Ó Flaherty whined at 
Marvin.
         ÒThereÕs two ways off this roof,Ó Elsa warned him, edging toward 
Faherty with a bitchy look on her face.
         ÒIÕm not complaining, IÕm just pointing out the justice of the 
matter,Ó Flaherty replied.
         ÒUnfortunately, Death doesnÕt believe in justice,Ó Marvin said. 

###

         "This shopping mall is under the control of the Alameda army," 
the Lieutenant announced.  "You will surrender your weapons.  You are 
now prisoners of the city of Alameda.  Co-operate and you will not be 
harmed."
         So they had come out underneath a shopping center.  Probably 
Westminster Mall.  Marvin had been wondering what building would 
require such a cavernous basement.
         "Here's all our guns," Marvin said, casting his plasma Gatling into 
the pile of arms.  "But listen:  we just climbed up from a tenement on 
the floor beneath this mall, and it was crawling with insects."
         The Lieutenant's face turned pale.  He called two privates over to 
carry away the guns.  Then he hurried off to report to his commanding 
officer.
         "This way," a sergeant said to Marvin and the others.  A group of 
half a dozen soldiers, part of a basement patrol, escorted Marvin and 
his friends to the lingerie department of a Famous Bar store on the 
first floor of the mall, where they joined other captives.

###

         The department store shuddered as artillery bombarded the mall.  
Marvin and Elsa exchanged anxious glances, their hands slipping into 
each other's palms.
         "We're under attack," the Lieutenant, suddenly appearing, shouted 
to the prisoners.  "I suggest you take cover!"
         "Must be the city cops," Marvin said to Elsa as he pulled her 
underneath a table.
         "Just so it's not the Leathernecks," she breathed.
         "Or the mutants," Marvin added.  Or one of a hundred other groups 
inside the sprawling city that would find quick work for any cache of 
arms that they happened upon.
         Suddenly the ceiling above them collapsed in a shower of cement 
boulders and broken plaster.
         "You O.K.?" Marvin asked Elsa as a snow of alabaster dust drifted 
down upon them.
         "Yeah."  She coughed.
         Marvin crawled out from underneath the table.
         "All I asked for was a refund," Perry quipped when he saw him.
         Marvin spotted Flaherty's feet sticking out from underneath a 
rack of women's dresses.
         "Marvin?  Are you still there, Marvin?" the fat boy's voice 
quavered.
         Harrigan appeared, dressed in a see-through nightie, with a 
flowered corselet around his thigh.
         "Pull your pants on," Marvin told Harrigan.  "And get Frankie."

30

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