Dawn of Hope- Exodus

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Dawn of Hope- Exodus Page 54

by Dobrin Kostadinov


  I did not want to die, at least not in this way. We already got too far to surrender at this stage, but what other choice did I have? Maybe that was all I could do–put an end to my life on my own terms or wait for a miracle or for the final strike of the gigantic monster. It raised its tentacles thousands of feet up in the sky, I followed them with my gaze, hypnotized by fear and by their movements. Suddenly they stopped dead and then resumed their onslaught at a breakneck speed in two directions: down towards the people thronged in front of the ship’s gates and down towards those of us who were trying to escape an inglorious death. I closed my eyes and put my arms over my head in an attempt to shield myself. We just stood there, waiting for the blow that would sweep me away and take my life for good. I felt almost dead, my body was ready to face the mower. The titanic black substance was gaining speed on its way towards us. But something unexpected turned the tables yet again. Something twinkled, some strange light, brief and momentary. It was like an iridescence which marked the end of the tunnel called life. Everything around me went dead quiet and a sinister silence enveloped both the place and my mind.

  Am I dead, I asked myself several times since I could see or hear nothing, all I could do was feel coldness. Had I been sent some place better or was I merely on my journey there? If that was so, it was a pity, because I was still young and I wanted to take from life everything good it could offer me, besides I had gone too far and if I failed now, I would have regretted it dearly. But I was still thinking, therefore I was. I was still a thought roaming in the space. I was not a floating soul, nor a broken mind in the dark of nothingness. I could smell the aroma of freshness and partially feel the nasty pain of the exhaustion in my muscles–that made me sufficiently alive to stand up and open my eyes. All out of a sudden a deafening rumble came from the direction of the mountain and the gigantic monster that had wiped almost all of the humans here out of existence planted itself behind us, towering over us, still like a statue.

  ‘Thomas?’ I whispered, stunned by the course of events. I still could not wrap my head around what was happening, but I could say it was definitely something positive. That was the first time in days that I could breathe in and feel my lungs with air to their fullest capacity without feeling any heaviness there or without feeling that knot in my stomach. I was wheezing, but it was going to go away, I knew it. The mythical black beast which was towering over us, started collapsing and breaking out of its shape.

  ‘Run!’ yelled a few voices in the distance. The shapeless pulp was breaking down, dissolving from top to bottom. We could hear the bangs of the tentacle hitting the ground and the liquid content splashed all over the plateau. It built up waves that spread in different directions. The current tumbled me over to the ground and started tossing me around at maddening speed. I was very close to drowning, but that was the least of my problems. All of the devices and machinery, every living soul was sent to the sides of the plateau where we were all to meet the bottomless abyss. There was nothing I could catch hold of. I somehow found a way to stay afloat, face up, feet first, hoping that that would give me a greater chance for survival or it would at least save me from hitting my head if something came on my way. Unfortunately, my feet did not meet anything like a tree, stone or something else that I could use as a stopper and the sight in front of my eyes morphed from a plane into an infinite vastness. That meant only one thing–the abyss was close.

  I started tossing and turning, seized by a surge of panic and even though the wave dispersed and its power reduced drastically, yet my course was still set on my imminent death. At once I felt something hard under my leg which was pressing it hard and pulled it down to the bottom. It was my knife. I curled up into a ball, carried by that disgusting liquid which penetrated my eyes and my mouth, scalding and having a particularly bitter taste. At the risk of drowning, I took in a deep breath and dived in, trust the blade in the ground as deeply as I could. The soil cut like butter and I was sliding face down. That unpleasant squalidness covered me from head to toe and the force of the current pushed me backwards. I felt I was dragged down, pulled by the force of the rapid. The handle of the knife was on the verge of slipping out of my hand, but I clutched it tightly with both of my hands and the rest of what little strength I had left. My boots and my socks peeled off of my feet. My movement was slowed down significantly and I suddenly felt how my feet jutted into the air. It was incredible, I had reached the very end and I was inches away from perishing forever. I was almost out of air already, but the yearning for a gulp of fresh air was on par with the desire to live. I pressed my lips hard, I clenched my teeth, but that feeling was burning me from the inside. At that instant the watery liquid that would not stop pouring over me now began to decrease in quantity. The crown of my head no longer felt any wet substance and I raised a little without seeing or hearing anything. And oh, I could finally take in some fresh air, a gulp so vitally important that I could not compare it to anything else in the world. Seconds later everything was over and my legs were dangling in the air on the edge of a vertical rock thousands-of-feet high. I pulled myself up so I could climb to safety and just lied down on my back I just stared at the sky and the more I peered into it, the more I saw how the clouds dispersed and how the rain was soon to cease. They were marching away as quickly as they came and that happened for the first time in the very same day because up until that moment every time it started raining, it would not stop for days. I put all of my efforts into lifting myself up, slowly, helplessly. I glanced at my knife, it was sticking out of the ground right beside my leg and I tried to pull it out. I could not leave it there, after all it was a gift from Milev and, what is more, it saved my life. I slid it back inside the scabbard and headed towards the ship, barefoot.

  Unbelievable . . . the birds were chirping, the sun was trying to break through the thick blanket of clouds, but the best part was that the Vacari were gone without a trace. A minute or two later I managed to get to the flying machine, but there was nothing left of the three defense lines and the courageous soldiers that constituted their ranks. The survivors would hardly amount to more than three busfuls and in the beginning our humble army consisted of thousands.

  ‘Hurray! We won! We won!’ chanted the survivors around me and little by little I started grasping what was happening. We are victorious, we are victorious, we won the war, I told myself inwardly a few times, but it was still hard for me to make sense of everything. The best part was that if Zanev’s predictions were correct, from that moment onward I could easily call that planet my home. A home whose soil was soaked with blood and many other vitally important juices and chemical compounds which got spilled along with all the bravery shown by our defenders; defenders one of whom was I myself. . .

  But where were our commanders, where were Milev, Harry or the five fighters who showed us best what strength and craftiness meant in the face of our attackers. Dozens of encouraging cries of victory and gleefulness were working their ways out and the smile that was trying to break across my face made them company. Everything was rags and tatters, all we had was dragged down into the abyss and now we were left naked, with no arms, no machines and even no men to keep us safe. We could not even mourn the dead, for their bodies were gone. We were destitute and so very vulnerable, even our ship was damaged and were stuck here with no way to escape whatsoever. Our only hope was that Roman was still alive.

  The gates opened and out came a small team of military officers who were guarding the civilians. They rejoiced at the lucky course of events, but a minute later they launched a rescue mission for the dozens of people left squeezed by machines, pressed to the walls of the ships, carried away by the strong current. I pondered over what to do next. I was covered in dirt, black from head to toe and my skin was tingling. But I could not just stand there watching them, indifferent, I had to make myself useful. I dashed for one of the heaps of garbage closest to me where there were still no military men to assist the wounded. Something caught my attention a few feet a
way from where I was. Pressed down by iron parts and sheets of aluminuim, in the midst of a mountain of dirt was lying our flag. Smeared, bloody and torn, yet the image of our mother Earth was still intact. I pulled it out with some effort and the pole it was attached proved to be rather tough–it had not even bended. That discovery managed to bring some cheerfulness to me in all that gloom–that symbol of human willpower and heroism! When I took it in my hands it felt like it bestowed me with strength. Something struck me in a flash. Where was the flag bearer? When I bent down and started lifting and removing the jumble of metal pieces, I found someone underneath. Everything was quite heavy and I could not clear the junk and help the person get out from under the debris at the same time. ‘Help! Help! There’s a survivor here, he needs help!’ I yelled at the top of my voice, not knowing what to do. The rescue teams, though, were scarce and the people who were in want of their assistance were quite a few. I started pacing up and down nervously, the man was going to perish unless I could come up with a plan to save him. And then an idea crossed my mind. I saw an empty chest, still in very good condition, which I could drag up to the man under the metal heap. I pushed it as close as I could and then pulled out the flag. I used the stick as a lever as it looked rather tough and solid. I tucked it under the sheet of iron, grabbed the round handle with both of my hands and started pushing it up. The metal chunks were so heavy that I could barely move them an inch. Yet, I could not just give it up. Not now, not for Harry. Inch by inch, I managed to get up, my arms and legs were shaking, but the job was half done, all that was left was to push the chest under the stick and fix it in one place. I stretched my left leg and at once all of my weight fell onto my right one. In the last second before collapsing to the ground, I managed to place the handle on the wooden prop. My limbs hurt and trembled, perhaps I had lacerations, but that did not matter at that moment. I looked at all that trash–the young Englishman was really underneath all of it. At the risk of getting myself in the same situation he was in, I crawled inside the empty space beside him. I squeezed him by the collar of the uniform with one hand and started pulling him back with all the strength I could muster. Little by little I managed to drag him out.

  ‘Harry! Can you hear me, Harry?’ I tried to talk to him, but he was unresponsive. I checked his breathing and his pulse. There were some barely perceptible beats, his heart was still beating. What a relief! He was still alive! I sat there with him, waiting for the rescue teams to come and in a minute the paramedics came to us. They carried him away on a stretcher and insisted on taking me away, too, because they thought I was severely injured or in shock.

  ‘Are you all right, sir? Look at me and follow the light.’ The paramedic took out a small lantern I was supposed to look at, but I stood up and spoke instead.

  ‘I’m fine, go help the people who really need your help.’

  ‘But you don’t seem to be fine, sir, sit down!’ he asked me a second time and, to be honest, he was not very far from the truth.

  ‘No, I’ll go look for more survivors, every second counts right now,’ I said, turned around and walked off, leaving the team astounded. They could not stop me and I did not know whether I was in shock or merely taking instant decisions that the circumstances compelled me to make. I vomitted a little at a spot where the help had not arrived yet. A steel beam was stuck in the ground far away, jutting out, leaning to the side in a threatening manner. There was, though, a person who seemed to be sitting there without moving. I got very close to him and I saw what I wished not to see. It was Milev, he had propped his back to the beam, lifeless. A piece of armature was sticking out of his chest.

  The Officer was dead. He gave no signs of life and his body had grown cold for good. I squatted by his side and looked at him, full of sorrow, and just burst into tears. To me he was not just an acquaitence but a person I owed a lot. He had given me a new life and now I was watching how his life had departed his body. Tear after tear, my grief was trying to find its way out more and more. I did not want to watch him like this–sitting on the ground with his chest ripped apart. So I went over to his side, stood behind him, wrapped my arms around his chest, under his armpits and started dragging him towards the rescue teams. He was heavy and limp, but it was not his weight that bothered me. That was the heaviest weight I had ever carried, for I was not holding in my hands just a random someone, but a friend, an idol; all that made me feel incredibly sad at that moment despite the victory we had just secured. The man who deserved the most to feel the joy of our victory was no longer among us. His body was there with us, but his consciousness was lost in the eternal darkness . . . With every step that I made he felt heavier and heavier, but I did not give up on him just like he had not given up on us. Half-way down to the ship some people noticed who I was actually carrying and saw the sorrow that was etched on my face. They rushed to my side at once and helped take Milev’s body to the insides of the ship. The medical teams took over the care for him and it was then that I realized the real proportions of the losses we had sustained.

  They were massive. Almost all of our machinery was swept away or severely damaged and 80% of our soldiers and armory were gone without a trace. We did not have a single electric shotgun left and the things I heard circulating in the crowd around me, as I was on my way to get in line for help, shocked me even more deeply. Even the unbeatable team of Iris 1 was crushed. It was no longer whole. Mila, Alan and Scott were alive and well. But the other two team members had suffered a different fate. Liu and Hiroshi were no longer among us. They had fought bravely even in the final moments of their lives when the black jelly-like thing sucked them in in its insides. They fought until their dying breaths, driven by one single thought–to die together, for you, for me, for us, ordinary people. They did not want anything in return, but for us to be what we had always been–free and happy.

  The people in the line said many different things about the last of the representatives of their team whom I could safely call my acquaintance. Yet no one knew for sure what had happened at that colossus all shrouded in mist and surrounded by thunders. The dirt on me had begun to dry off and the skin of my entire body started to itch, probably because of the magnetite particles in that liquid. I needed to clean myself up really quickly. Shortly after, I was led into a tent especially adjusted for that very purpose–it was one of the first which provided first aid on deck one. They invited me in to sit on the examination table, there was a screen opposite the table, broadcasting information for us, those who remained outside during the battle. A medical worker told me to wait as she had a seriously wounded patient to tend to in the other tent. I hoped I would not have to wait long because I had no idea whether the dirt of the jelly-like spill was going to hurt my skin which had begun to itch terribly. It was not long after that that they aired frames from something exceptional on the electronic news panels. Perhaps that was the reason why the people around me stopped moving, the nurse who had still not come included. I fixed my gaze on the person on the screen and recognized him. It was Thomas–the panel was showing scenes recorded and sent by the camera in his helmet. We saw how the Colonel was climbing up to the top of the mountain while the bomb was hanging down his back. When he reached the summit, he saw an even plane the size of a tennis court. There was a spring at its center with huge amounts of water gushing out and then a flock of birds attacked him. The flying creatures pulled him in different directions and bit him while the water-like liquid was acting in a rather bizarre way. It was vibrating, probably due to the frequency emitted by the colossus that damaged our communications. Its particles jumped up skywards and then dropped down and smashed into the rippled water surface. That lasted for a few seconds before, without any apparent reason, the water aerated again and foamed as though there were large amounts of soap in it. Those two states alternated every few seconds. Despite that Ivanov was moving. His suit barely handled the electromagnetic radiation. Hе did not pause his advance towards the intended target even for a moment regardless of the
cost he had to pay. I could not believe what I was seeing right there, sitting all dirty in front of that screen. That was one of the most heroic feats ever accomplished. Blow after blow sent those creatures to the gound, dismembered; they were so many that the camera could not capture all of them in. Inch by inch out saviour got to the spring–the source of the indecribable cries of the black guardians of the mountain which crawled up the slopes. Ivanov was running out of time and had to make fateful decisions. He wrapped his right hand around the weapon of mass destruction and pulled towards the spring while he shielded himself with his left arm against the nasty flying critters. He was carrying quite a heavy load, but thanks to the suit Thomas was not having any difficulties. He stood up before the whole as the waters surged up incessantly out of the twenty feet wide crack and reached three feet in hight. It looked so easy to just throw the explosive inside and watch it fall deeper an deeper. So he just did it–he grabbed it with his incredibly strong hands and dropped it straight into the whole, waiting for it to follow its path down into the abyss. But that was not how things panned out. Despite its small mass and volume the package did not sink. It was sent up in the air by the water outrush and halted right on the rim of the crack. What a failure that was, but that was not how Ivanov saw it. He had to try one more time. He aimed a blow at the whole and flung the bomb inside, but it barely went a dozen feet down and then popped up on the surface once again like a balloon spat out by the upsurge. I sat there on the table, staring at the scenes with keen interest, amazed by the decisiveness of the Colonel. He unfolded the propeller on his back, pressurized his suit and switched on the lights on his helmet. Convinced in his success, he wrapped his arms around the explosive, heaved a deep sigh, gazing up at the horizon. Perhaps Tom wanted us to steal one last glance of the beauty of that planet before he merged with it for good. From the far fringe of the mountain the black Vacari started climbing up to the top and reaching Thomas. They saw him and abruptly headed in his direction. Without feeling any fear, regret or guilt he did what had to be done. He just looked into the distance and jumped, head first, right into the crater of the mountain. The extra cargo he was carrying together with the powerful means of underwater transportation he had just unfolded helped him go deeper and deeper. At first he was barely progressing. The footage revealed how he was sinking very slowly down between the narrow walls–the only thing that could be seen under that lightning. He sank lower and lower in that almost pitch-dark void which could bring claustrophobia even to the most mentally stable of men. At the same time we could hear powerful vibration which distorted the image and the water that poured over him was hissing in the darkness. It looked like he was descending into Hell, a place he had to ecape from. A minute later the walls went out of the light‘s scope and the Colonel embarked on his jouney down to the heart of the black mountain. The greater the diameter became, the more little by little the pressure of the water decreased and Ivanov dove precipitously into the crater. Nothing could stop him now and obviously the mission was about to be accomplished successfully. The Russian reached the depth he intended and released the cargo so he could swim back up to the surface fast and detonate it remotely, thus managing to also save his life. Yet, the cargo found its way to the top together with Ivanov and that was something he could not afford because of the pressure the water exerted. That was why he just grabbed the explosive again and plunged into the depths of the abyss once more. He opened the lid that safeguarded the control panel of the dangerous weapon and started punching in a code of about at least ten numbers and after that activated the timer. To my utter horror, I saw a decimal appear on the display and the clock started ticking away the seconds inexorably.

 

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