Arkapeligo- Rising

by Ma West

  Her lungs would burn as soon as her body returned to normal, but for now, as she reached the top of the stairwell, they puffed. They expanded her chest and exploded in exhale. The noise burst from her lips, and her muscles protested. Hope carried her body forward. She had reached the top, and hope lay on the other side of the door.

  Hope stayed on that side of the door, too, as Emilia reached for the handle and pulled on a locked door. Three, four, five pulls and it still wasn’t enough for her to believe she was once again trapped and waiting to be raped. The man’s words echoed up through the stairwell. “SWEETIE, where are you going, my sweet? I love these games we play, but I grow weary of foreplay. Luckily, I already got my excitement out, so I can take my time and enjoy you, my sweet, sweet reward.”

  The words only rang in horror, without meaning to Emilia. Tears cascaded down her face, and her hand pounded constantly against the door. “Please, somebody, anybody. Please.” Her voice descended into a crying whisper as the target of her words changed. “Help me.”

  Beyond being in the zone, beyond intensity, and beyond self-preservation came a point where his force of will simply executed. The captain may have been in full sprint, but he willed the top of the dynamite off, exposing its fuse. He slid the lid down along the fuse and sparked it to life as he neared the alien’s hind leg.

  The target was a small gap that exposed itself as the alien above constantly shifted its weight to and fro. Smoke and dust were so thick he could feel it in his mouth and on his skin. So far, the alien had failed to notice him, but it would only take a second for the captain to go from noticed to dead.

  The skin stretched, and the opening exposed itself, allowing the captain to deposit his lit explosive while still in motion. Screams echoed out from the building’s open front—a woman was in the alien’s clutches. She went into the alien’s mouth headfirst, her head bitten off and discarded as the alien began sucking out the poor woman’s insides.

  Sliding as if into home plate, the captain lit his second explosive and exited out from under the alien and settled next to the building. The motion was smooth and the execution flawless, but the task faulty and the errand impossible.

  The captain had been spotted. It was the remaining physical presence of the building that saved him from the alien’s slashing extremity, and the explosions from his own arsenal nearly killed him. The way forward had been blocked by the alien’s limb, so the only way for the captain to go was back, back toward his second explosion, and he was still holding an explosive.

  It was total blackness and, for a second, totally painless. The captain heard more than felt the crunching of his body, and he lost control of his final explosive. The concrete and plaster of the building’s wall had locally collapsed, dropping some of it down onto him. Lying motionless where he landed, the captain had just begun to regain consciousness when the second explosion went off.

  Help never arrived, no hero burst through the door, no Sasha bounded up the stairs, and no nurses would come looking for her here. Emilia curled up into the fetal position as tears poured down her face and air blasted into and out of her lungs. The man closed in on her, stopped, and looked down. “Now, now, we can’t have one of the masters in such a state. You may want to start down there, but I want to start up here.” He reached out his powerful arm, snatched Emilia by the neck, and pulled her up to a standing position.

  The man wiped a few tears off Emilia’s face. “I know, baby, I know it’s a wonderful thing. I’m about to cry with joy myself.” He moved in close to kiss her. A rumble wobbled the building, and the two shifted back to the railing. The building had now tilted so much that there was a larger-than-normal space between the wall and the railing.

  Emilia now leaned her weight against the man, and had she been able to fight, this would have been her opportunity. But her mind remained in a state of total emotional eclipse, and she was ready for the trauma. The man pulled her even closer, embracing her lips with his.

  The second rumble was much more intense, sending more than a gentle sway through the building, and the two were struck off balance. Emilia reacted this time, pushing hard. The man, however, was strong enough and prepared enough to hold on. He grabbed her by the wrists. While he was able to maintain his grip, Emilia was able to gain a solid footing. She pulled and pulled, and as the man’s momentum grew, she prepared to push him down the stairwell.

  Emilia’s hope was once again dashed by the brute strength of her attacker. She now faced her assailant in an awkward stance. She hadn’t the position of power to force the man off, and she didn’t want to let him recover for another advance, so Emilia made the only move she could see. She slid her feet off the railing and threw her entire body weight downward.

  The man quickly lost grasp of one of her wrists, and his body was pulled to the ground, yet he still held on. Emilia screamed as her shoulder dislocated and her body swung in a clumsy motion. The man held on tight, very tight, but his grip was slipping, and he had little power while lying on his stomach. Emilia dangled in pain and disbelief as her wrist slipped away and a large gap several stories deep awaited her.

  The world lay black and barren before him, around him, and behind him. It took several minutes for his mind to find his head, and several more to find his neck. The weight was immense, and any push or lift of his head only resulted in pain. The captain wasn’t sure he was even breathing until the coughing started. There was air around him, but in the pitch black, it was impossible to say how much.

  The captain felt his mind start to reboot, yet there seemed to be a flaw in the system. He could feel his mind reaching out. Pulse after pulse, his brain searched for its parts, trying to account for all of them, one by one. He realized that he didn’t know what position his body was in. Were his legs extended? Raised to the chest? Where were his hands? Were they near his body or out and about?

  Terror crept in with each pulse that went unanswered, and his unconscious self was already screaming. A moment of relief came as his mind finally found his ears. They rang and hurt, but they worked. The noises were unintelligible but comforting—he was not alone.

  Patient, calm, and focused on the positive, the captain was forced to either accept that he had already succumbed to a fate worse than death or believe that he still had a chance to recover. He focused hard on his ears, putting full concentration on deciphering garbled noises into sounds—garbled and jumbled. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Screaming, yes there was screaming. Weapons fire, yes he could hear weapons fire.

  He couldn’t see it, but the captain felt the wind in his hair, chased by rocks hitting his face. The noises changed too, became clearer, and the air fresher and the weight on his neck gone. He sat upright using his stomach muscles. His brain swirled inside his skull, and his stomach wrenched in pain. Had he not smoked recently, the captain was sure he would have puked.

  He spent a few minutes getting reacquainted with several new muscles, including his tongue and lips. The breeze returned, followed by another round of falling and splashing rocks. The captain refocused on his hearing, and a man’s voice kept repeating, “Fall back, fall back. Retreat.” Loud, thunderous jolts vibrated farther and farther away. Screaming again, the sound of screaming turned his attention toward the other direction.

  The screams were loud and intense, a true call for help, and they were heading in the same direction as the alien. The captain tried to stand, but he couldn’t find his legs. He pressed on, harder this time. He had to help. Those screams would etch terror into anyone within earshot, and as the swirling in his brain slowed, he recognized those screams. Those were screams from Emilia. His emotions took control, raising his torso. His vision failed him, his legs abandoned him, but as long as he still had life, he still had to help.

  Chapter 34

  When Doves Eat

  Emilia slipped and fell, her body cascading down the hole between the wall and the railing. Her chest slammed into the railing of a passing floor as she wrestled for control. T
he back of her thighs collided with the next flight of stairs, and she finally came to a rest on the next flight down.

  Neither Emilia nor the man moved for several minutes, assessing what had just happened, like a lifting fog clearing the view for all on the battlefield. Then the man’s feet slammed as he started his descent in pursuit and jostled Emilia back into flight. Her chest gasped for air, her legs pulsed in pain, and her heart felt as if it was going to burst.

  “Enough of this, I need you NOW!” His voice once again rattled terror into her heart. Emilia could listen no more. The clanging of the stairs, the torturous voice of the man—it was all too much for her. She screamed as her legs propelled her down, down, down, and finally out onto the street.

  The world of the fog wasn’t linear, understandable, or avoidable. Sasha’s mind had been programmed with far more than it could ever actively incorporate or use, and the fog was her mind’s way of narrowing the focus. She never had any memory of what happened in the fog, but her awakening from this episode would be unforgettable.

  There was so much that her brain had filtered out that when it all flooded in, it was overwhelming. Orientation, situational awareness, and self-control are all things most people have control of all the time, but not Sasha, and not in the world of the fog.

  The most surprising aspect of Sasha’s abrupt exit from the fog was how quickly she recognized the source of transition. Exiting the world of the fog was still a fairly unique experience, as was each visit to the world of the fog. Yet coming out the fog was an inconsistent endeavor, sometimes by a trigger source, as was the case this time. Other times, there seemed to be no trigger, leaving Sasha either like a skydiver clearing a layer of clouds or like a driver slowly clearing the dense mist.

  Her eyes were drawn directly to them. There was no mystery as to why their presence triggered an exit from the fog. Together they were her entire emotional existence. Now they were in danger, in fear, and in pain. Sasha now knew why she existed, why she had been bred, and why she needed to be dangerous.

  He could feel her panic as she grasped him so tightly that he felt her heart beating against his own chest. Emilia’s screams belted and echoed deep into the captain’s skull, reigniting the tremendous pain pulsing through his brain. He found his hands and wrapped them tightly back around her as she now straddled him. The baroness had sat like this before, only in an entirely different context.

  The captain again tried to will his eyes open but could find no receptors. Danger was imminent, but he could find no power, no will to move. The vibrations from the alien suggested an awkward march back in their direction, but they still had some time, maybe. Without sight, he wasn’t quite sure.

  Emilia’s last belt of screaming stopped with a sudden and abrupt blow. The captain could almost hear the wind being knocked out of her. The equilibrium of his ears was returning, for he could now feel their bodies being tilted and lifted. A strong grunt accompanied the lift, but without his vision, the captain failed to recognize its owner.

  Emilia finally let in a wheezing breath followed by a few coughs. The two bounced for several meters as they were carried away like babies. The man finally reached exhaustion and had to set them down. The alien’s vibrations had become very erratic, with multiple steps or missteps making it difficult to actually locate them.

  An alien noise screeched across the street, shattering glass and sending small debris across the captain and Emilia. The vibrations grew intense, smashing, as if only mere feet away from them. Debris constantly showered down and around as screams of an alien battle ravaged down, around and near them.

  The alien’s neck was between Sasha’s thighs. Deep, oozing wounds had been burrowed into each side, about where Sasha’s feet rested. She held a long, stringy tentacle in each hand. It wasn’t telepathy, but it communicated more than just physical gestures.

  Sasha willed the beast toward her father and her love. The alien refused, perhaps sensing the loss of fog, and attempted to reassert its control. Sasha was unrelenting as she dug her feet down into the creature. It hissed in protest, jolting her as wildly as a bucking horse. Sasha met the protest with force, this time not only digging in but also yanking, hard.

  The alien screeched in pain and slowed down, as if biding its time. Sasha showed no patience as she unleashed another volley of discipline. The first alien had lost interest in the building and was now bearing down fast. She would be too late. Again she kicked out in frustration, with tears forming in her eyes. She started to curse—herself, her alien captor, and what others would call “the Lord.”

  Her relief at the sight of a man carrying her father and Emilia did not lessen her anger, only renewed her determination and hope. Sasha echoed out with her mind for the beast to attack. It protested, shook violently, and nearly tossed Sasha off her perch. She noticed a piece of rebar sticking out of the beast, right behind where she was sitting.

  Unaware of whether she’d caused that injury, Sasha grabbed it now as the alien began to spread its wings. The area below the wing appeared to have only a layer of skin over it, making it vulnerable to attack. Sasha pulled out the bar, but instead of attacking the new skin, she pierced a hole into the expanding wing. She then ripped the bar downward, tearing the wing as it went.

  The alien screamed and jerked Sasha, but with her mind, she commanded it to attack its kin. This time, the alien accepted the order, and none too late as it struck a blow to its fellow on the injured foot, from the captain’s explosion. The other aliens went wild yet barely missed her family.

  The alien beast turned, and the two now faced off, with Sasha forcing a battle between a reluctant combatant and an injured opponent. The two aliens hissed at each other, perhaps communicating in their own language, Sasha couldn’t tell. She knew time was of the essence, and the clouds closing in forewarned of danger.

  Emilia had taken as much as she could handle. Her mind had shut down, and her instincts acted alone. No longer trusting itself, her mind refused to accept new input. Her body was now locked in a death squeeze. It was the last and only action she was capable of. After the latest shower of debris and angry alien screams, the captain and Emilia were once again being carried.

  It felt like a long distance to carry two people. This man was obviously very strong and very determined. The captain cursed himself for not being able to do more, for being so weak and so stupid, and for failing. He had risked and lost so much. He had failed at his task. The alien beast had not been disabled by his attack, only the captain. Now, instead of assisting his daughter, he would only become another burden to her.

  The captain would not allow thoughts of failure to supersede his parental love. It wasn’t much, but holding Emilia in her moment of panic gave him enough to know he still wanted to live and still wanted to help. The man was now climbing a flight of stairs, an incredible feat bringing about a strong respiratory response and a stink of foul breath.

  It took more than one try, but the captain was finally able to find his tongue and voice. “Where are you taking us?”

  The words were mumbled but the man seemed to understand well enough. “We will take the one to safety. Then we will take the other as our reward.”

  The words and the passage of time had allowed the captain to finally match the voice to the face, and it disturbed him. Twice now, this crazy son of a bitch had saved him, and he felt like there would be a significant cost this time. As his mind finally started to process the words, it became clear that the cost had already been set—it was Emilia.

  Emilia barely moved, squeezing as if her life depended on it. She made no sound other than breathing. The captain felt a surge of panic ripple through what he could still feel of his body. He hoped Emilia wouldn’t pick up on it, but he was at a loss for what to do.

  It wasn’t a drop, but the two were set down swiftly. The captain was actually disappointed and scared by how little it hurt. Emilia squeezed even tighter and screamed even louder than the captain thought possible. He could feel her
being pulled off by the man. She held on with everything she had, but they all knew it wasn’t going to be enough.

  “What are you doing? Stop that. She is not for you!” The last statement brought about a noticeable change in Emilia’s pull, indicating that the man had dropped her.

  After a moment of silence, the man kneeled next to the captain and the shaking Emilia. “Who are you to speak to me like this? I have saved your life twice now. You are in my debt, and you can’t even walk. I will have my reward.”

  A strong, painful slug wasn’t enough to interrupt the captain’s thought—how does he know I can’t walk? Two more powerful slugs and the captain and Emilia had been separated. Emilia thrashed and flailed, hollering the whole time.

  By this point, pain was irrelevant to the captain. It was more a matter of finding the actual ability to move that challenged him. The captain rolled himself, throwing out one of his arms. Luck finally showed her hand as the captain managed to grasp skin, the man’s shin. The man tried to kick him away. Emilia pulled the other way, fleeing his grasp.

  The man had had enough of the captain and now bent down and picked him up by the throat. “You were supposed to be the one, the guide, the master. You saved me in the prison, just as the voices told me you would, but you are not who the voices said you were. You are deceitful, unworthy scum of this earth.”

  The captain forced the words past the man’s hold on his throat. “She is not for you!”

  “I have earned what I like, and I shall take it. You have no authority over me!” The man eyes bulged and burned red.

  “She is not for you!” The captain saw his imminent death even without his vision. He could feel the man shifting his body, readying the final blow. The captain raised his arm first, hoping to deflect the blow but instead finding the man’s face. Then his hands scrambled down to the man’s neck and squeezed.

  Sasha had a plan, and her alien captor probably knew it too. So she had to think of a new plan, without thinking. Emotion would be the key, the only thing that could outsmart an enemy who knew what she was thinking. Sasha needed to be pissed off. Anger would be the most actionable emotion.