Chapter 15
Waking with the sun, Ashlyn stretched her muscles. Rising onto her toes, she extended her arms high above her head and twisted her torso first to the right, then to the left. Beyond the trees, she saw that the mountain was further away than she’d first thought. In the darkness, its large size had made it appear closer than it actually was. There was something unique and unexplainable about the mountain, it felt familiar.
Before heading out, Ashlyn drank her fill of water from the river. Much like the day before, the sky was bright, the air crisp and fresh.
The most valuable lesson came from the birds in the trees. Ash had quickly learned to pay attention to them, taking cover in the brush when they went silent. Each time she did, she was rewarded for her effort as a predator chased down its quarry. Much like the humans, most of the animals had mutated almost beyond recognition, evolving into creatures capable of surviving in the violent new world.
The difficulties of moving through the thick foliage and the frequent cautionary stops made for slow going. At one point, Ashlyn took a wide berth around a grove of tall trees that was home to something akin to a monkey. Ashlyn took the silence in the jungle surrounding the grove as a warning. The birds weren’t just quiet, they were absent.
The detour led Ashlyn to a small brook, where she decided to follow it upstream to its source. It was the closest thing she’d seen to a trail, and she felt sure it would lead her directly to the mountain.
It proved to be a good decision. Two hours later she found the source of the brook. It was bubbling out from beneath the fallen boulders of a large landslide at the mountain’s base. Working her way around the slide, she came to a small grass covered glade. The mountain before her was one of steep, near unclimbable cliffs. As she was questioning her decision to have come to the mountain—a large shadow came over the top of her.
Looking up, the late afternoon sun nearly blinding her, she glimpsed the spread wings and talons of a large flying creature coming at her. Hefting the sword, Ash swung in a blind arc. The creature slammed into her, propelling her backwards onto her back—the impact knocking the wind out of her. As Ashlyn rolled over and came to her feet, she saw that she had wounded the creature. Half of its left wing lay on the ground. The creature was shrieking in pain.
Visually, the large flying animal was similar in many ways to a pterodactyl. It was skeletal, boney, featherless. It had a long mouth lined with jagged, razor sharp teeth and taloned feet. Surprisingly, it had a collar around its neck. It was a pet, trained to track. The mutants had been using it to look for her. It also meant the mutants were nearby.
The creature’s jaw snapped, its teeth clacking. Spreading its wings best it could, it jumped at her, talons bared. Ashlyn swung the sword, deftly cutting off its head.
Sure that the pack must be nearby, Ash spun, making sure that she was alone. She’d made a mistake, thinking it safe to cross through the clearing. It had left her vulnerable, exposed. She’d not make the mistake again. Seeking the security of the dense jungle brush, Ash darted for cover.
She’d taken only a few steps when the large hunting party of pointy-eared mutants stepped out from the brush and into the clearing. While she had been fighting, the pack had encircled her. Together, they moved forward, tightening the circle. Ash backed up, until she was again standing beside the creature she’d slain.
One of the mutants suddenly released a loud, mournful screech. He was holding a leash. The expression on his face was one of sadness as he saw his dead pet lying on the ground.
Ash was slowly spinning, warily watching all the men in turn. She came to a stop, her attention falling upon the alpha male of the pack as he began shouting at her. His words were nothing more than repeating clicks interspersed between short, patterned growls. Seeing his eyes focused upon her weapon, Ash felt sure that he was telling her to put the sword down. When she lifted it higher in warning, the pack leader thrust out his spear, pointing it at her. It was the signal for the mutants to attack.
Ashlyn’s already heightened perceptions, exploded—bringing a new depth of clarity that she had never experienced before. Without needing to look, she could hear, see, sense, and smell the attackers around her.
The sound of grass bending underfoot, told her that one was coming up from behind her. In a single motion, Ash whirled and dropped to one knee. The sword in her hand sliced through the air, disemboweling her attacker. The tip of the spear he had carried, hung in the air just inches from her face.
The attacker fell to his knees. He tipped his head to the side, curiosity making him watch his lunch of undigested squirrel spilling out onto the ground.
Angered, another attacker came at her. Ash spun. The aim of the sword was true. His head fell from him and rolled between Ashlyn’s feet.
Looking to her left, then to her right—Ash spun in a slow circle, challenging the next attacker.
The mutant men were all making the familiar clicking noises and growling. They were posturing for who would go next. Ashlyn was beginning to understand that each of them saw her as a prize, and that she would belong to the victor. She could see the desire in their roving eyes, their wagging tongues hungrily declaring that they wanted to be the one to claim her.
Ash was turning, moving quickly—not wanting to give them the advantage of surprise. The men feinted an attack, jumping forward, then retreating. It was meant to be a distraction to conceal the real point of attack.
Ashlyn could hear their hearts beating, their adrenaline surging. She was acutely aware of every nuanced sound. The near silent release of held breaths told Ashlyn that two more attackers were coming at her. Swinging the sword to her left, she felled one and severed the arm of another. Moaning in pain, the injured mutant retreated, rejoining the others.
The leader’s face twisted into an angry snarl, screeching for his men to attack. He was not accustomed to such losses.
Without looking, Ashlyn dropped to one knee and thrust the sword backwards, over her right shoulder. The sword went through the attacker’s throat and upwards, exiting out the back of his skull.
Ash rose slowly with confidence. Her stern gaze was locked upon the leader as she extricated the sword from the fallen attacker behind her.
The mutants had never seen such a thing before. She had proven herself an adversary to be feared. The circle tightened as they prepared to rush her all at once.
Facing the alpha male, Ashlyn gave a slight bow and extended her unclenched hands to him. The sword lay atop her open palms. Thinking that she was surrendering to him, with a few clicks, the leader told the others to hold their position.
Ash knelt and set the sword on the ground. Rising, she looked at him in submission. He started forwards wanting to claim her. It was his right as pack leader. His arousal came quickly as he took in her femininity.
The other mutant humans were jumping, hollering—excited that she was going to be captured undamaged, and that she would be theirs when he was finished with her.
Staring at the leader, Ashlyn called upon the powers within. The darkness, for all the evil it represented—had given her a gift. The great anger the voices had dredged up within her had deepened the well from which Ashlyn drew her power. It was near limitless.
Now, calling upon the element of fire, Ashlyn’s body instantly erupted with intensely hot, blue-white flames. The tendrils lashed out, growing larger, hotter.
Terrified, the mutants held their hands up, shielding their faces from the intense heat and brightness. Even as they backed away, their skin was blistering and flaking—the pain so intense it masked the heat emanating from the ground that was burning their feet. Little wisps of steam rose from the soil. The grass in the clearing withered and caught fire.
The mutants scattered—running from the inferno engulfing everything. All around them—trees, vines, and jungle brush were bursting into flames.
The mutants shrieked each time their feet touched the ground. Though they were fast and knew their jungle ho
me well, they could not outrun the ever-widening circle of flames chasing them. The superheated air was burning them alive while they ran, leaving a trail of splattered blood across the blistering forest floor.
The energy driving the flames within Ashlyn continued to grow as she explored the depth of her untapped reservoirs of power. The circle of fire widened, moving away from her at an ever-quickening pace.
Boulders shattered as trapped pockets of air expanded. Above the crackle of burning wood, the cries of fleeing animals filled the air.
Suddenly, like she were looking through a portal, Ashlyn’s consciousness expanded, allowing her to see each of her still living, fleeing attackers. One by one, she watched as the flames overtook them.
Ash grimaced as one of the mutants made it to the grove of monkey like creatures that she’d detoured around earlier. Seeing the mutant intruder in their midst, they jumped from the trees, surrounding and attacking him. They were large, strong, and operating on a base primal instinct. Their viciousness as they ripped his organs out and devoured them, was shocking. One of the monkeys ripped the mutant’s head off, carrying it away like it were a prize. Had the monkeys existed in larger numbers, Ash believed they would have been the ones to inherit the Earth.
The portal within Ashlyn’s mind watched until the flames engulfed the grove and the violent creatures within.
The portal then shifted to the leader of the mutant pack, who had managed to make it to a small pond of collected tributary water. When he jumped in, he mistakenly thought he had escaped—the cold water relieving the pain of his burns.
Instantly, the power Ashlyn had unleashed boiled the water. The mutant screamed, his face twisting hideously as his skin cracked open revealing ever-deepening layers of red, raw, cooking flesh and muscle tissue. As he sank below the surface, his blood turned the bubbles of boiling water around him red.
With the death of her last attacker, the portal within her mind, closed. The images she had seen, would never be forgotten.
Ash reined in the energy that fueled the flames. Each time she used her powers, it became easier to control.
Wanting to douse the flames, that were ravaging the jungle, Ash called upon a heavy rain to put them out. It’s like Eridu all over again.
A soft breeze swept by her. The darkness had returned. “Where the destroyer goes, death follows. Ashlyn will die. The destroyer will claim her. The darkness will take her.” The ethereal echoes faded.
With a huff, Ashlyn retrieved the sword that lay near her feet. Wiping the dirt and ashes from it, she slid it back into the sheath. She lifted her face to the sky, thankful for the rain as it washed the dirt and grime away from her skin—purifying the air.
Looking at the desolation around her, Ash saw that hidden beneath the burned brush, there had been a large, stone wall. It was crumbling and broken. Behind the wall, Ash saw a small trail ascending up the face of the cliff. Two birds with one stone.
Squeezing through a break in the wall, Ash made her way around the charred brush and rubble to the trailhead. The ascending trail would give her the vantage point she had sought and satisfy her curiosity. Looking up at the trail, she could feel the nexus urging her to go.
Following the overgrown switchbacks, she found a narrow opening atop the mountain that led inside. Before she entered though, she called a stop to the rain and took a moment to look at the devastation below. It looked like a nuclear wasteland after an attack. It was grey, charred, the earth itself scorched. A few scattered pockets of ash smoldered, sending light trails of smoke filtering upwards. Within the ring of fire nothing had survived.
Turning away from the scene of death, Ash pushed her way past a flowered bush and stepped inside the mountain. Just beyond the entrance the path widened out into a small cave. Oddly, the smoke inside the cave was heavier than it was outside.
Lighting a flame in her hand for light, she began to explore. Though the cavern was relatively small, it was pockmarked with a number of fissures and pockets—any of which could conceal deeper chambers. Minutes later, disappointed that there was no discovery to be made, Ash headed for the exit. She was almost outside when she thought she heard a faint scream. Listening intently, hoping to hear it again, she waited. Though the sound didn’t repeat, the fire in her palm suddenly fluttered. She followed its wavering flicker to a narrow crevice. Pushing her way through, slashing at a tangle of roots—she found a small downward trail.
The warm, smoky breeze wafting through the winding tunnel created a small whistling sound. Hearing a second terrorized scream of pain, Ashlyn gripped the sword, bringing it to life. The scream had been louder this time—closer.
The smoky breeze now carried a nauseating, acrid odor that grew stronger with each step. It was the same smell that she and Steven had been forced to endure back on Hadaesia, at the lake of fire. She hoped she was wrong about what lay ahead.
Two turns later, Ash came to a small overlook inside a large cavern. A row of boulders, that lined the overlook, blocked her view of the cavern floor below. Climbing atop the lower boulders, she leaned out, looking over the edge.
Ash gasped in horror at the scene below, her soul churning torturously at the sight. Recoiling, she dropped to her knees—her trembling legs refusing to support her.
It’s a god-damned kitchen. The tunnel she’d found was a chimney, designed to let the rising heat carry the smoke away.
The pungent odor that permeated the air had come from four very normal looking humans, being cooked. They’d been skewered, hanging upon steel rods above a long fire-pit. Their head, arms, and legs had been removed and placed into a steel basket that hung above a large kettle of what appeared to be blood. A mutant woman was turning a hand crank, lowering the basket into the pot.
Four other humans were still alive and hanging upside down by their feet, suspended from the ceiling. The mutant women were washing their naked bodies, prepping them for their turn on the spit.
When Ash heard another scream, she forced herself to rise and look over the edge. On the large cavern floor, dozens of mutant females were busily moving about, preparing portions of food to be distributed. They seemed completely unaware of the battle and the inferno that had taken place to the west of the mountain. Ash assumed that their own burning fires and smell of cooking flesh had masked the smell of smoke emanating from outside.
One of the women was carrying a large wooden bowl across the floor. Sliding it beneath one of the bound men hanging from the ceiling, the man instantly wriggled, screaming at her in a dialect Ashlyn had never heard before. The man suddenly stilled as the mutant slit his throat with a small knife. The bowl beneath him began to fill with blood.
Ashlyn’s stomach churned.
The three other humans, two men and one woman hanging beside him, screamed at their captors. They were wide-eyed, squirming and straining at their bonds to escape, knowing they were soon to share his fate.
Ashlyn’s anger welled. It was a world where normal humans had become nothing more than a source of food for their mutated human counterparts.
When Ash saw the mutant woman that had moments before slit the man’s throat, place a new bowl beneath the next human, the woman—Ash stood tall.
Without thought, she jumped atop the boulders lining the bluff. She hefted the sword high above her head with both hands and threw it. It twirled through the air, the tip of the blade striking the mutant woman in the center of her back. The mutant gave a shrill cry, looked down at the blade sticking out through her chest, and collapsed to the ground.
By the time the other mutants figured out what had happened, it was too late—Ashlyn was standing atop the boulder unleashing her rage. From her hands, bursts of fire shot forth.
The angered mutants came at her, bounding up the steep cavern wall of boulders. They were met with a long, steady stream of fire that ignited them instantly. Their writhing bodies tumbled down the boulders in a heap of flame—their shrill screams resounding through the cavern.
Jumpin
g down to the cavern floor, making the thirty-five-foot jump look easy, Ash stood protectively in front of the humans. The mutants came at her in waves—jumping through the flames. Their snarling growls quickly turned to echoing screams of pain.
The room was ablaze. Each of Ashlyn’s hands were independently attacking the mutants that were jumping at her and climbing along the walls to try and get to her.
The three people behind her, watched in silence, stunned by the power of the god who had come to save them.
When Ashlyn was done, forty-two mutants lay dead, smoke rising from each of their charring bodies.
The woman called to Ashlyn, asking for help.
Ash gave a comforting grin, letting them know they were safe. “I’ll get you down.” They were all hooked to a chain strung over a pulley that led to a cranking mechanism on the far cavern wall.
Before she lowered them, Ash slid the blood-filled bowl from beneath the man who’d been killed. The three hanging people understood and respected her actions on behalf of their friend.
Their eyes were wide as they watched her call upon the rain to douse the flames. To them, it was but one more piece of evidence that confirmed she was a god.
Lifting the latch that locked the device, Ash turned the handle, lowering the three captives to the floor.
Kneeling beside the unclothed woman to untie her hands, Ash noticed the woman’s back was crisscrossed with lash marks. She couldn’t help but wince as it reminded her of her own brutal lashing back on Hadaesia. Ash admired their spirit and their will to survive. Not everyone would choose to live in such a harsh world—a world of unimaginable horrors—a world that was no longer made for them.
Ashlyn Chronicles 2: 2288 A.D.: A Time Travel Sci-Fi Fantasy Page 14