Resigned Fate

by West, Shay

  “The camp is ready to go, General.”

  No matter how many times he asked, Forka couldn’t get Robert to stop calling him General. “Did Sloan and Brad arrive with word from Samson and Wild Bill?”

  Robert nodded his head. “I believe the exact words were ‘If we decide to follow you, you’ll know.’” He snorted and shook his head.

  Forka wasn’t surprised by the answer. When they had returned to the Jhinn encampment, Samson and Wild Bill had left for their own combined camp, refusing to stay and listen as Forka had ordered the Jhinn to assemble. When he’d told them of the plan to move them to a safe location, they had balked at first, unable to fathom packing up and leaving, placing themselves in danger out in the open. Many had been angry at the bargain Forka had made with Samson and Wild Bill. They’d wondered whose side he was on and whether he still had their best interests at heart.

  It had taken time to convince them that leaving for the protection of the large bunker built into the mountain was the safest thing they could do. He didn’t tell them that it was a long shot. If the doors weren’t open, they would be no better off than they’d have been had they stayed in the encampment.

  “So long as they do not harm the Jhinn, they can follow or stay and rot for all I care,” Forka said.

  He gave the order to move out. It was slow going. He had decided to have the townfolk bring along several wagons of food and water, going against his initial feeling that speed was more important. Though there hadn’t been any sign of the Mekans, they might still arrive at any moment, placing themselves between the Jhinn and the safety of the government installation that the clone was leading them toward. Forka hadn’t spent much time further south than Denver, so he wasn’t sure what to expect, and in any case, the people felt safer having the food, water, and other supplies available.

  Forka had to keep his impatience in check as they plodded slowly away from the encampment. He was familiar with the road they were taking, as he and the Protectors had taken it many times on scouting missions and trips to the ruins of Denver. They’d searched for things left in the rubble that they could salvage.

  The large group meandered through the plains, a long line of people on foot and on horseback, accompanied by a few wagons loaded to the brim. Most of the livestock had been butchered and the meat dried and salted. The rest were being driven behind the last of the wagons. Chickens squawked and clucked in their woven cages, unsure what to make of their strangely moving new world. Children tried to stay next to their parents but they soon grew tired of the slow pace and raced up and down the line of travelers. When they grew tired, they climbed into the wagons to nap.

  Forka called a halt around suppertime. The Protectors directed the drivers to arrange the wagons so that they were in the center and could be easily protected. If Samson or Wild Bill decided to go back on their word, the Jhinn could ill afford to have their stash of grain and meat burned. The Protectors set up their bedrolls at the edges of camp. Before seeing to dinner, they drew straws to see who would take the watches for the night.

  Forka ordered several large fires lit. He watched as simple tents sprung up. Not everyone had them. Those that didn’t were forced to sleep on the ground, unprotected. Forka wished there was a more comfortable way to move the Jhinn but there hadn’t been time to gather items that weren’t absolutely necessary. Even dinner was a meager affair consisting of dried meat and hard biscuits.

  As the stars appeared in the darkening sky, Forka gazed at them, wondering if one of them was close to home. His life on Gentra seemed so long ago, almost like it had been lived by someone else and he was only a bystander. He barely remembered his family. He and the other Guardians had been taken at such a young age to begin their training.

  I am the last.

  Forka wondered how much longer he had. His people were not as long lived as those of other worlds. He was the second eldest of the Guardians and yet he had outlived them all. Death didn’t frighten him but he feared his death having no purpose. And he feared a death that would steal his strength slowly, leaving him a shattered shell of who he’d once been. If death came for him, he wanted it to take him away swiftly.

  “I’ve seen that look before. Either you are out for blood or you are thinking deep thoughts,” Robert said as he joined Forka near the fire.

  “Just the random thinking of an old man.”

  “You’re hardly that old.”

  “On my world I would have been long dead.”

  “Perhaps you have a job that is not yet done.”

  “Perhaps,” Forka said softly.

  “You do not believe it?”

  “I once believed in our destiny.”

  “But no longer?” Robert asked after a significant pause.

  “No, damn me to Hell, but I don’t. Either the prophets were wrong, or the Masters misunderstood, or the wrong Guardians were picked, or...it doesn’t really matter, does it?” Forka kept his voice low. He didn’t want the Jhinn hearing their General lose heart.

  “We will do our best. That’s all we can do. I’m going to get some shut-eye. I’ll have the camp up and ready at daybreak.” Robert settled back against his saddle, eyes closing.

  Forka lay back against his own saddle and stared at the stars until sleep finally took him.

  ***

  The journey of the Jhinn took many long weeks. One day bled into another in a never-ending fog of plodding along, eating, camping, plodding along, eating, and camping. Each new day it seemed to take longer than it had on the last to get everyone up and ready to move out. The Jhinn were tired and their weariness was difficult to conquer. Forka feared never reaching the installation.

  --How close are we?-- He asked the clone, hoping it had a more definitive answer than the dozen other times he asked.

  --Do you see the mountains there? What we seek is just past the middle peak--

  Forka grinned and turned to Robert. “The clone said the installation is in that middle peak. We’re getting close.”

  “That’s the best news I’ve had all day.”

  “What do you mean ‘all day’?”

  Robert turned to the side. “Sloan reported that another wagon lost a wheel.”

  Forka growled.

  “It’s not as bad as you think. One of the woodworkers built a few extra wheels the last time we stopped. The repairs shouldn’t take but a few hours.”

  “Let me know when the repairs are done,” Forka said.

  Robert looked at his General suspiciously. “What are you planning, sir?”

  “Just a little reconnaissance mission. Shouldn’t take more than a half day to reach the mountains. You go find Brad, Sloan, and the clone and meet me here.”

  Forka went in search of someone to watch over the Jhinn while he and his Chosen were scouting the installation.

  Brad and Sloan arrived moments later, the clone and Robert following close behind. “Marshall says we’re going on a recon to the installation,” Brad said.

  “I want to see the facility for myself before we bring the Jhinn into the high country.”

  Brad and Sloan shared a glance, looking away from Forka before he could catch them laughing.

  “Something funny?” Forka asked, icy blue eyes piercing into the backs of their heads.

  “You don’t want to scout the installation. You are fed up with the slow pace and can’t stand the thought of being this close, yet being held up by another broken wagon wheel,” Sloan said.

  “That’s absurd. I don’t want to get their hopes up if the building is locked down.”

  “You already told the Jhinn that we were going to the mountains, to a bunker hidden deep in the mountain. Whether they find out now or days from now, they will still be disappointed if we can’t get in,” Brad pointed out.

  “I feel the need to explore the area. If you two are too scared to go...” he left the sentence hanging.

  “Too scared? Sir, have you met us?” Brad asked.

  Forka laughed. He could al
ways count on Brad to be dramatic. “Let’s move out.”

  The four moved away from the group at a slow gallop. Forka’s mare was eager to run. She had been kept to a slow pace the entire trip. She tossed her head and pushed a bit, seeing how much Forka was willing to give. He laughed and looked back at the others.

  “Let’s go, girl!”

  The mare bunched her muscles and leapt forward. A smile spilt his face nearly in two. Nothing on Gentra came even close to the feel of a strong horse and the wind in his face. He let her run a bit longer at full speed before reluctantly reining her in. He didn’t need her foundering. As he slowed her to a walk, he heard the others coming behind him.

  “Next time you decide to take off, kindly let us know. I nearly lost my horse,” Brad whined.

  “You’re a big boy, you should be able to keep a handle on your horse,” Forka said without looking back.

  He smiled when he heard indignant sputtering coming from behind him. Forka stared hard at the mountains, trying to find evidence of the installation the clone said it knew was in the area.

  “Do you recognize anything here?” he asked aloud.

  --We’re still too far away. But we are in the right area. See that peak? The entrance will be about halfway up--

  Forka looked at where the clone pointed. “We should be able to make that by just past midday. We’ll eat in the saddle.”

  Forka kept the pace at a fast walk, broken with short gallops. Fear and eagerness drove him forward. He prayed to the God of this world that the doors would be open. The thought of dragging the Jhinn all this way for nothing made him cringe.

  The land began to slope upwards, forcing them to slow the pace. Forka let the clone take the lead, hoping it knew the way, though there was no clear path that he could see.

  “Are you sure it knows where it’s going?”

  Forka turned to look at Sloan. “Well, I certainly don’t know the way. Would you rather I lead?”

  “It seems to me that we’re just meandering around. What if it can’t remember where this installation is?”

  “It did warn us that the landscape may have changed. Give the clone time.” Forka glanced at Sloan. “I want to apologize if you felt pressured to come here from Astra.”

  A look of anguish passed across both Brad and Sloan’s faces. The spasm of pain was gone in seconds, replaced with a stony mask.

  “It wasn’t an easy decision, but we needed to be here,” Sloan said.

  “I hope the girls weren’t too upset.”

  “They were devastated, but they understood why we had to leave. If we get out of this alive, we will return and be the husbands they deserve,” Brad said, giving Sloan a small smile.

  “I hope we do make it out of this. You both will look good with a bunch of children hanging all over you,” Forka said.

  “Sir, the clone has stopped,” Robert said.

  Forka turned his attention to his second-in-command. The clone had indeed brought its horse to a halt and was slowly scanning the hillside.

  Please don’t let it be lost.

  --We are close now but without a road, there is no way to pinpoint the exact location--

  Forka groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps we should spread out and search the area.”

  --That would be wise--

  “Sloan, you and Brad take the right, Robert and the clone take straight ahead, and I’ll go to the left. Give a holler if you find anything. If you’re out of earshot, communicate with the clone,” Forka ordered.

  He watched as the others took off at a fast walk, moving their horses through the thick timber. Forka turned his mare around and moved to the left, trying to pick the easiest way through the tangled brush and trees. He arrived at a small landing and took a moment to look at the way they had come. He could barely make out the Jhinn at the base of the foothills far below.

  His sharp eyes picked out something strange about the terrain, a long winding area that looked a little out of place among the piercing points of the trees. It was lighter in color than the darker foliage of the pines. Forka turned to follow the strange path and found it led to an area not far to his left.

  Keeping an eye on landmarks, he made his way toward the odd path that wasn’t exactly a path. It was covered with tall grass, flowers, and small trees, but it was devoid of the large pines and aspens compared to the surrounding area. Forka followed it for a time, unwilling to call out to the others until he was sure he was heading toward the installation.

  The path wasn’t steep and seemed to take the easiest route up the side of the mountain. He reached a flat spot and could see the face of the mountain right in front of him. He squinted and shaded his eyes against the sun, trying to get a closer look at something strange at the foot of the peak. He urged his mare closer to the mountain.

  A wedge of darkness was partially obscured by a pile of rubble. Forka’s heart raced when he peered into the darkness. A tunnel wound slightly to the left, disappearing in blackness so complete that the meager sunlight couldn’t penetrate it. Forka dismounted and tied the reins loosely around a branch of a tree nearby pine tree. He pursed his lips and gave a sharp whistle.

  He heard an answering whistle from the right and another even closer, almost directly in front of him. Robert and the clone appeared first almost directly above the tunnel entrance. They made their way slowly down the steep face, their horse’s hooves sliding on the small rocks and pebbles. Brad and Sloan appeared shortly thereafter, trotting through the trees off to the right of the tunnel.

  “Looks like you found it, sir,” Robert said.

  “Only our Kromin comrade can tell us for sure,” Forka said.

  --I am certain this is it--

  “It would appear the doors are not a problem,” Sloan said.

  --The rubble is not from the doors. It’s from the dome that used to be above the entrance. The doors are further inside--

  “Guess we need to take a closer look.” Forka ordered the men to each find several large green branches to use for torches. Robert found some cloth in one of the saddle bags and wrapped it around the ends of the branches. He used flint and tinder to light the cloth.

  Forka took the lead and carefully crawled over the pile of rocks and concrete. It was slow going since he could only use one hand. The daylight barely penetrated the gloom within. Their footsteps echoed within the confines of the tunnel, making it sound as though there were more than just the five of them walking through the darkness. The air grew thick and dusty, mingling with the smoke from their torches. Their sound of their footfalls was punctuated by bouts of coughing.

  “Is this air safe to breathe?” Brad asked after a coughing fit nearly doubled him over.

  --The air is fine, just full of dust particles. Tie cloth around your faces to protect your lungs--

  “Why aren’t you affected by all this dust?” Forka asked.

  --My kind have the ability to filter atmospheric particles before they reach our lungs. That ability appears to be functioning even in this physical form--

  Forka looked back the way they had come and sighed, unwilling to take the time to go back to the horses to find pieces of cloth. He glanced down at his shirt, shrugged, and ripped a piece off the bottom. The others followed suit, wrapping the pieces of their clothing around their mouths and noses. Though the cloth was somewhat uncomfortable, his lungs no longer felt as though they were being pierced by tiny knives each time he drew breath.

  The group set off again, Forka taking the lead. He kept his torch high, examining the walls of the large tunnel. The concrete had crumbled, leaving the rough rock exposed. Pipes snaked along the entire length of the tunnel, still intact. Far above, bats roosted, their high-pitched cries scolding the intrusion into their dark sanctuary. They quieted as soon as the party passed, slumbering in pitch darkness.

  The journey through the tunnel seemed never-ending. The scenery never changed, leaving Forka to wonder if the clone had led them to the right place. He guessed
they had traveled a half a mile, maybe a bit less since first entering the tunnel.

  “I see something up ahead,” Sloan said.

  --I believe that is one set of blast doors--

  Forka’s heart sank. The doors were closed tight against the side of the tunnel. He held the torch high, examining every square inch of the door and the area surrounding it. There was no way he could see to open the doors. There was an area to the right that looked like it may have been a control panel but it had crumbled to dust, leaving a hole in its place. Forka peered into the hole but found no way to release the doors.

  “Is this the only way in or out?” Forka asked the clone.

  --There is one more entrance but it is even further along the tunnel--

  “What are the chances that this door is closed but the second will be open?”

  --I do not know how to compute those odds. I do not know if the doors are sealed together or whether they can be controlled independently--

  Forka sighed. “We have to check it out.”

  He once again took the lead, praying that the other door wouldn’t be closed. The tunnel was much the same: dust, dirt, pipes along the crumbling wall, more bats.

  “Even if the other set of doors are closed, we can at least bring the Jhinn into the tunnel. It’s more than large enough to house all of us. It might be safer than being out in the open,” Robert said.

  “I guess we’ll have to. But I’m not ready to give up just yet,” he said, clapping Robert on the shoulder.

  They moved up to the second set of blast doors and Forka’s heart raced when he saw a dark wedge off to the right. He reached out and grabbed the edge, giving the door a hard tug. It moved a few inches, the hinges screeching in protest. His skin pebbled with gooseflesh and his teeth ached as the noise seared into his brain. He handed his torch to Robert and grabbed the edge of the door with both hands, determined to get it open as quickly as possible. The tendons stood out on his arms and neck as he pulled and heaved the door open despite its brain-melting groaning.

  The black wedge grew wider as he pulled, the darkness inside even more dense than that in the tunnel.