Planar Wars: Apertures (Book 1)

by Edmund A. M. Batara

  “No round is chambered but I suggest you give the pistol to Jen. If she’s not familiar with it, give her some dry fire lessons tomorrow. I know the Glock manual does not recommend it, but we’re in the field now. No telling when she’ll need it. It’s bound to be useless against those creatures, but during times like this, they’ll not be the only predators around.”

  I nodded again. Dinner was a relatively quiet affair. We kept on only a few of the kitchen lights and finally got Cooper’s side of the day’s events.

  Stan had observed their communications gear was not working, so he’d sent Cooper back to town to report the issue and get a replacement. The soldier had been on his way back and already nearing the checkpoint when all hell had broken loose.

  A strange figure dressed in a black but tattered and hooded robe had suddenly appeared in the middle of the road, floating a foot from the ground with his back to the soldiers. Swirls of mist surrounded the human form.

  Cooper saw the lieutenant immediately move forward and accost the figure. He didn’t hear what was said, but saw the cowled shape hitting Stan on the right shoulder. The lieutenant flew backward through the air like a rag doll. The other guardsmen, as well as their Bradley, immediately opened fire. As he ran to the unmoving lieutenant, Cooper could see the firing was not having any effect. Some sort of barrier surrounded the now-exposed emaciated face of the figure. Bullets dropped in piles of rust in front of the unearthly, transparent though shimmering barricade.

  “I swear the fucking thing was grinning,” added Cooper. “Fortunately, I was behind the Humvee when that thing suddenly erupted into furious motion. One second, he was there, then he was in front of Davis, tearing the man’s heart out with his bare hands. The liquid armor addition to the Kevlar didn’t do shit. Then he quickly vanished and reappeared among the rest of the men, six in all. By that time, I was already behind the wall, hauling the lieutenant, and hidden from his view.

  “The squad was in the open, firing at him. The Bradley roared to life and moved forward, trying to run him over. Our IFV stopped as it hit the barrier in front of the figure. He crushed the armored front with his hands, turned it over like a toy, and threw it back against the wall facing the street. Then the damned thing made another pass around the dead and just like that, the bodies were gone.”

  “He didn’t come after you?” I asked.

  “Nope. I guess he forgot, or something more urgent came up. The bastard suddenly looked toward the town, though, and quickly made his way toward the highway. But all the vehicles were suddenly rusted hulks. Weirdest thing I ever saw.”

  “How about your radios? Did they work?” the professor asked.

  “No, sir. Even the battalion HQ gear was on the fritz. Those things were shielded high tech equipment. Not a damned thing was working. We did find out that some electronic gadgets do work, provided they’re in a closed system. A car’s computer box, for example. But anything to do with signals and other transmissions was hopeless,” the soldier answered.

  “It appears we’re back at the Stone Age. Well, sort of, as some modern inventions still work. But there goes air support. No way targeting and arming systems could function. I doubt if aircraft and choppers could even come close to their objectives. Then again, as any field operator would say, that’s a problem way above my pay grade. On these terrible visitors, we’ve encountered three kinds of creatures so far. There will be more,” said Henry. “And presumably, all have the anti-metal—for the lack of a better term—ability that we’ve observed. But before we go to sleep, we have one more thing to prepare.”

  After that, we found ourselves scrounging for wood at the back of the house. Cooper was detailed to get some gas from the car and look for motor oil. Jen searched for empty bottles with thin glass walls, easily breakable if possible. The wood was made into makeshift spears, their grips wrapped in canvas.

  When we finished, a row of bottles filled with gasoline and motor oil, with pieces of cloth hanging from their sealed bores, or their mouths, now graced the dining table. Disposable lighters were heaped in a pile beside them.

  “Molotov cocktails,” said Henry. “Last-ditch defense. I don’t know if they’re resistant to fire, but that’s one thing we haven’t tried. But be very careful, fire tends easily go out of control and this kind clings to stuff. Best used on open ground.”

  With that weird conclusion to an already terrifyingly bizarre day, we called it a night and turned off all the lights. Cooper got first watch while the professor monitored Stan. My friend was a lot better now, though still unconscious.

  “We’ll know tomorrow,” the professor said to me as he took his place on the floor, beside the sleeping lieutenant. Jen and I huddled together on the other side, shotgun and pistol within easy reach.

  We were too tired to talk about the day’s events, too stressed-out, and promptly fell asleep to encounter savage and unsettling dreams.

  10

  Pazuzu of Kur

  My sleep was restless, only to be awakened by the sound of distant screams and gunshots. I immediately leaped from the bed and crouched, pulling Jen roughly from her own slumber and holding onto her arm tightly to reassure her. She seemed to momentarily awaken but drifted back off.

  My night vision was good, probably because I’d only just woken up.

  I could see Cooper and Henry peeking through our window covers. I immediately moved forward through the darkened room and took my place between them.

  The illumination of the moon was spectacular; it was a clear and starry night, one to stand and admire from a window such as ours, were it not for the horrific context.

  The visibility given by the moonlight was good, a far cry from during the daytime when the sun hid from us through the solidly overcast skies, giving the illusion of a partial eclipse.

  As we continued to watch, the noise grew closer. It appeared to come from the houses along the street intersecting the road from our cul-de-sac. Suddenly, a cowled figure appeared, drifting on the air just above the rooftops. It was a large shape and carrying a long rod. At our distance, we couldn’t see any other details but all remained quiet and tense, awaiting what would happen. Then numerous shapes were running below the visitor, some of which veered off in the direction of lighted structures. Then the entity stopped, right there, in the middle of the intersection. It flung its staff down into the ground, burying it a quarter of its length.

  Though we couldn’t see it, we felt a wave of energy radiating from the object, spreading throughout the area. Then the entity held out its hand and the rod pulled itself up and jumped to the dark shape’s waiting palm. A voice loudly thundered through our minds and echoed in our souls. It was an unfamiliar language—and yet, somehow, we could understand it.

  “By the Ground and the Holy Mountains of Zagros, I claim this land in the name of my Mighty Lord, the Bane of Lamashtu, the Great and Powerful Pazuzu, Ruler of the Fifth Realm of Kur! Fear, obey, serve!”

  Pazuzu? The name rang a very loud bell in my mind. A chilling numbness came over me. I knew even Lamashtu by herself was bad news. Very bad news. But Pazuzu? Their demon of decay, disease, windblown pestilence, and famine? The king of wind demons in Mesopotamian myth? They were real? Ancient demons of one of the oldest civilizations on Earth…were real?

  A flood of names echoed through my mind – their ruler, Ereshkigal, Nergal, Belet-Seri, and all the delightful denizens of the Mesopotamian world of the dead. Only the Aztecs could compete with them in terms of vileness and thirst for blood. But where their Mesoamerican counterparts mainly dealt with adult human sacrifices, these deities didn’t make any distinction between infants and adults.

  Nor were they picky about the human parts offered to them.

  My legs felt like jelly and I slumped down on the floor, to the curious looks of Cooper and Henry. It seemed just a natural reaction to finding out that the nightmarish and unreal beings taught in your academic subjects were real, and that what was in front of us were but their pets and minor
underlings.

  A lot of named demonic entities were in Mesopotamian lore. Not that their “good” counterparts were nice players at all, either; they were all vicious, cunning, and cruel.

  A lot of information was now dredging itself up from the disordered shelves of my memory, but I refused to invite them into my mind. The shock of realization made that impossible. I was in denial, though I knew that itty-bitty fact.

  But how would anyone react if they saw Dracula or any of those popular horror myths in their undead flesh, ectoplasm, or whatever form they preferred?

  Or, what if they suddenly found themselves running from a horde of real zombies they’d incidentally come across while shopping or jogging? Sometimes, it was hard to get one’s mind to accept reality, even when it was within biting distance.

  I suddenly discovered I was hyperventilating. I had found a name to fit the horrors besetting us, the abominations attacking this country, this world. And it was worse than I could have imagined. Come to think of it, I would have preferred aliens. At least those bug-eyed visitors needed to cross vast interstellar distances. These vile specimens? It was a mere transfer from one dimension to another, instantaneous, if the blurring around the spiders on the road was any indication.

  Calming myself down and forcing deep, slow breathing, I found the strength to stand. The guys looked at me with concern. Later, I whispered. Then I looked outside.

  The underling was gone as well as most of his pets. He had already marked the territory. Like a dog, I thought. We could see a few of the creatures still roaming around the subdivision. Screams and gunshots sounded from time to time.

  A few houses on the other side of the housing grid were aflame now, burning. I’d really thought we could let down our guard after the master of the pack left. But as long as there were dog-like monsters around, we had to be alert and wary.

  Abruptly, the front light above Ms. Adley’s door came to life and—after a few seconds—was turned off. I held my breath, watching for any reaction from the roaming predators. She probably slept in her living room, woke up because of the noise, and absent-mindedly turned on the light switches beside her door. A row of buttons included one for the front door. For a few seconds, I thought our luck was holding. Then two shadows detached themselves from the side of the house of the Benjamins and ran toward Ms. Adley’s home.

  Fuck. I ran to my shotgun and slung it over my shoulder.

  “Stay here,” I quickly murmured to Jen. Luckily, she just nodded her head and didn’t ask any questions. That was Jen all over. That was partly why I loved her so much. Her ability to grasp the entirety of a developing situation and come up with an appropriate reaction was a characteristic I really admired, and it had never failed to astound me. Or she trusted me not to make any stupid choices – like what I might be doing right at that moment. Then I grabbed two Molotov cocktails and a disposable lighter. I found the professor already there at the table. He also had two in his hands.

  “Cooper will stay here. I’ll go with you. This might be a very stupid idea, but it’s the right thing to do,” he said with a smile. “But try to avoid using that shotgun; the sound might attract more of them. We’ll draw them from Ms. Adley and try to hit them with the Molotovs in the area between the houses.”

  We opened the door and closed it as silently as we could. The two bastards were taking turns ramming Ms. Adley’s door. To her credit, the elderly woman was not shouting in fear. Or it could have been she was too terrified to cry out for help. We crept into the small road marking the circuit around the cul-de-sac. The two creatures still had not noticed us, focusing on the waiting meal inside the house. Good thing the idea of jumping through the window hadn’t occurred to them. Maybe the blanket covering it gave it the semblance of being a solid wall.

  We both lit our bottles. Checking if I was ready, Henry picked up a sizeable rock and threw it at one of the monsters. That got their attention. As one, they turned and faced us. By the available light, I could see they were a bit different from the ones we had seen before. These ones had horns, three on the forehead and then a stegosaurus-like extension behind the head, with irregular sharp tips. They had pronounced overbites with longer incisors, about two to three on each side of the head.

  “Get ready. I’ll take the one on the right, you the left. Wait until I throw mine. One bottle first, then the other. Maximize the chances of hitting the body. Or the head, if we’re lucky,” Henry quickly said in a low voice.

  The two deadly creatures moved toward us at something between a saunter and a rush. The damned freaks must have been spoiled by us – finding humans easy prey. We backed away a few steps. The duo followed. I could see them slavering even in the dim illumination. There was a strange sparkle in their drool which made it quite noticeable. I didn’t notice if the disgusting liquid acidified the ground.

  What I could see was that their pace had quickened.

  The damned things were virtually prancing!

  Then they moved to the asphalt of the roadway. When they were about ten feet away, I noticed Henry had stopped. I copied his example but took a chance at a quick glance behind us. There was a narrow open area between the houses and it wouldn’t do to be jumped. And these monstrous beasts were extraordinarily quiet stalkers.

  In that split second that my attention was diverted, the edge of my vision suddenly blossomed into a bright yellow color. Henry had thrown his first Molotov. I quickly turned my attention back to our pursuers and saw my target was thrown off-guard by the unexpected attack. It had been moved or jumped sideways a few feet and had momentarily stopped to look at its companion. It was a timely break for me.

  It appeared the two had moved quickly and got into position to pounce during that short interval when I’d glanced at our back. Seeing my chance, I threw my flaming bottle at the second creature with all my strength while it was temporarily motionless. I was not like Henry who had the unerring accuracy to be able to hit the head area, so I didn’t take any chances and aimed at the body. The bottle smashed against the armored hide and erupted into a large fire, enveloping the beast. I swiftly drew back my hand to throw the second bottle, but Henry’s hand was quickly on my arm.

  “No, don’t! They burn quickly,” he urgently explained. That made me look at our targets. In the rush of the moment, all that was on my mind was to throw the bottle to ensure the fucker didn’t recover. Henry’s opponent was already a small pile of black soil, surrounded by the flames from his fiery cocktail. Mine was well on its way on becoming a mound of soil itself, though the lack of any noise from the beasts was eerie and unnerving. There was something weird about the effect of the fire too.

  The two beasts didn’t take any evasive action after being hit. It could have been the composition of the liquid we’d used, the rapidity of the spread of the flames over their bodies, or something else. Science had never been my forte. Especially paranormal science.

  At least we’d saved two Molotovs. Henry was looking around, checking if our little melee had attracted any attention. Apparently, it hadn’t as he gave me the thumbs-up after a few minutes. We carefully made way back to the house, scrutinizing our surroundings all the time.

  By unspoken agreement, we directly headed for the house. We could check on Ms. Adley in the morning when, hopefully, things had settled down. It was too dangerous being out in the open. I also considered the obvious possibility of being hacked by a feisty grandma with a large kitchen cleaver the moment I poked my head inside.

  “Glad that worked. Fire is effective. At least for this kind. But I noticed you didn’t bring any of our makeshift spears,” I said as we neared the door.

  “Hitting a fast moving target the size of an eye is almost impossible. And at night? Forget it,” replied Henry. “But you’re right. We’re fortunate your gamble worked. I’d hate to have wrestled those two all by myself.”

  “By yourself?”

  “You’d have been dead a few seconds before they’d have torn me to pieces,” he answered
with a smile.

  And I knew he was right.

  11

  Stupid Idiot

  We closed the door and braced it with some 4×4 lumber we had found. It was an improvised arrangement. Three diagonal wooden braces against the wooden entrance. Good thing it opened inward. Henry went to Cooper and, after a muttered exchange, went to the couch to check on Stan. Then, he got ready to sleep.

  It had been a tiring night so far. The arrival of the mysterious underling had disturbed my sleep rhythm. But I guessed Cooper still had sentry duty.

  Jen, though, was awake. I got a painful pinch and right arm forcibly clutched tight, really tight, in Jen’s fingers after I explained what had happened as I lay down beside her. She was lying on her left side, so, with my arm draped around her, she took out her anger and fear on my luckless appendage. It could have been worse. Jen turned around and kissed me, nose first, and then I tasted her wonderful lips.

  “You stupid idiot!” she whispered. Both words essentially meant the same, but I wasn’t moronic enough to correct her. Though I admit she could have been right. “But that was very brave.”

  “Maybe. But I can’t be so callous as to let Ms. Adley die,” I replied. I couldn’t fail to notice vestiges of tears on her face but again I kept my mouth shut. Trust might have been the bedrock of relationships but keeping one’s mouth shut at the right time was a key element.

  “That’s what I meant; stupid idiot,” she gently answered. “But I guess this changed world will demand a lot of sacrifices from us.”

  “I hope not,” I said. “We still don’t know what’s happening.” I kept my thoughts and conclusions to myself for the moment. Upsetting Jen further was not on the cards that night, and a briefing would be best when everybody had some rest.

  “Shh, go to sleep. We all need it. You can whack me silly in the morning if you want to,” I muttered as my eyelids started getting heavy. Adrenaline must have gone down, I sleepily concluded. I cuddled against her reassuring warmth, thankful for her presence. I might have been reluctant to admit it, but she was the strength holding me together through all the disappointments in my previously mundane life – failing an exam, not immediately finding a job, or having an especially bum day.