"What does that mean?"
Lenny sighed and Henry could see his shoulders slump.
"Because of the error, I dug through the code and found that someone had disabled their communication software. I'm assuming that Union Forest disabled this when they disabled the beacon."
"Okay, that's not so bad," Henry replied.
"Yes and no. It's annoying because Rick has no clue we're coming to rescue him, and worse, I'm pretty sure he and his team believes there isn't going to be any help coming anytime soon."
Anger flashed in Henry's eyes and the muscles around his jaw clenched tightly. He noticed that Lenny tensed up a bit as if expecting Henry to lash out.
That's right, Henry thought, his father was a bit abusive. If I remember right, he would always hit Lenny whenever he didn't do a job well enough.
Henry’s anger visibly faded. "I'm sorry. I'm not angry at you. It’s just that this whole situation—with Rick within reach and these damn wolves pinning us down—is so frustrating."
The howl and bark of the large alpha sounded again and another wolf slammed into the door with a loud thud; luckily, the lock bar still held the doors firmly in place. Henry walked over to a side door, opening it to inspect what was inside. Satisfied, he turned to Lenny.
"Help me find a ladder or some way to get up inside this bell tower. I'm going to see if I can take care of this little wolf problem of ours. If Rick and his team don't know we're coming, then I don't want to waste any more time. Let's first deal with these overgrown fur balls, and then we’ll leave at first light."
Lenny nodded and set about searching for a ladder, while Henry searched for the mechanism that would release the lock on the trapdoor that led up to the bell tower. After twenty minutes of frantically searching, Lenny finally found a ladder. Close by, the door thundered again from the impact of another wolf, causing Lenny nearly to drop the ladder as he set it into place.
Henry switched out his M16 for one of the SR25 assault rifles with a scope and a modified muzzle brake. He grabbed a box of ammunition for it before slinging the rifle over his shoulder, pocketed the box of ammunition, and climbed up the ladder to the belfry. The entrance, designed for access to repair the belfry, was a bit cramped with barely enough space for Henry to crawl out and onto the roof, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.
Henry could still hear Lenny down below muttering to himself and trying his best not to freak out every time one of the wolves struck the door. He went about setting up his position on the roof of the church. He swung the SR25 around, leaned against the tower wall, adjusted the scope, and loaded the gun. He'd hoped that the wolves would have left after finding that their intended prey was safely locked up inside. However, they were relentless and didn't appear to be giving up anytime soon.
Why couldn't you just go away?
Henry calmly griped the gun tight against his shoulder as he set his sight on one of the large gray wolves. He wanted to take down the large black alpha wolf, but after scanning the area, he couldn't find it. It seemed to have disappeared for the moment. Perturbed, Henry searched the area again through his scope. There were now six wolves, minus the alpha, moving about in the courtyard. He focused his aim again on a large gray wolf that was almost the size of the alpha wolf.
Henry leaned in against the stone structure of the belfry giving him added support. He made a few adjustments on the rifle, carefully aimed his sights on the wolf, took a couple of deep breaths, and then pulled the trigger as he exhaled. The shot crackled across the open courtyard like thunder. Henry watched through the scope as a small mist of red appeared at the time of impact. The wolf yelped when the bullet struck it square in the chest, dropping it to the ground in a growing pool of blood.
All activity around the church stopped when the other wolves discovered the dead gray wolf. One of the wolves walked over and nudged it with its nose. When there was no response, the wolf raised its head to the night sky and let out a loud mournful cry.
Henry reloaded his rifle and took sight on another of the large wolves that stood along the tree line. He took in a couple more breaths and pulled the trigger as he exhaled. Thunder crackled again as the wolf went down silently. Henry hit the wolf right between the eyes, causing its head to jolt back as it crumpled to the ground, dead. The remaining four wolves ran around in fear, barking and yipping.
Henry fired off another round, aiming above the wolves into the distance. He didn't want to kill any more of them; he only wanted to scare them off. While the wolves bolted across the courtyard, heading towards the trees for safety, the large black alpha wolf appeared again. It stood boldly in front of the retreating wolves, growling and baring its teeth. The wolves slowed and cowered before him. The alpha barked and growled subduing the others.
Henry knew he had to take this creature out, or they'd never leave. Something about that wolf was unnatural; it didn't seem to fit what he knew about wolves. He'd never seen a wolf force his pack to remain after hearing gunfire, yet this one did. Normally, a pack would scatter to the four winds, but this one wouldn’t let them run, and it was demanding the fealty of the others. The alpha growled and barked, demanding that each of the wolves stand their ground. Henry watched in amazement as each of the wolves turned to obey.
Henry cleared the chamber on his rifle and carefully loaded a new shell. The wind shifted, so he made some last minute adjustments before settling down to line up his shot. He set his sight on the alpha’s chest because he didn't want to cause it any undo pain. He breathed in deeply, feeling the warm air fill his lungs. Then he let out his breath and fired. The shot rang out, and the alpha jumped to the side. The bullet hit it in the shoulder, sending it spinning. The other wolves scattered into the trees. Henry chambered another bullet and looked through his scope to line up the next shot.
The alpha wolf was gone.
He scanned the area, hoping to find the wounded wolf, but the only trace of it was a trail of blood from the tree line to where the alpha had gone down. He scanned the trees, hoping to find some sign that the alpha had been mortally injured. Unfortunately, the alpha had escaped along with the other wolves.
With the threat gone, Henry slung the rifle back over his shoulder and climbed down to the chapel below.
Steam erupted from the small vents along the cavern floor, which complemented the mood of the overwhelming beast that lay inside the underground cavern that served as its home deep beneath the surface of the earth for several centuries. Another series of vents unleashed the super-heated water vapor as the Beast growled in anger. It had slumbered within this cavern in a deep trance for hundreds of glorious years without the knowledge of the humans above it. It would have remained that way had it not been for the humans and their metal creations that had so ungraciously awakened it.
The ground beneath the mighty Beast trembled, and a smile slowly creased its enormous reptilian face as memories flitted through its mind like a horde of butterflies drifting upon the wind. The memories brought with it scents of death and destruction that the Beast had wrought upon the world above when the humans had awoken it. The carnage had lasted for months as it laid waste to several lands, killing anything it saw. It had eaten extremely well those first few months, which helped revitalize its energy and life force.
Then the Beast remembered the human in the boat. It picked up a large rock and threw it across the cavern in an outburst of rage. It slapped its tail against the cavern wall, creating large cracks. Frustration again bubbled to the surface when the Beast thought about how it had to return to this underground cavern so it could lick its wounds. The convergence of the ley lines would help speed up the healing of its scarred and damaged face.
Emanations of the ley lines pulsed beneath the Beast lovingly. However, they were faint, and the healing worked too slowly for the Beast’s liking. The thought that one of the humans had wounded it so? Still shocked the large reptile. Never had a wretched human been able to inflict such a heinous wound upon its perfectly scaled body, l
et alone its marvelous face. The Beast was both mortified and in tremendous pain as it fled without knowing if it had killed the wretched human.
The heat from the explosion had blasted away most of the scales on the side of its face, exposing damaged muscles, and in some spots, its jawbone. The pain the Beast felt was a constant and intense throbbing that wouldn't go away, no matter how hard it tried to ignore it.
How could a human have done this to me? the Beast thought as it gazed at its reflection in a pool of still water.
The Beast slammed its fist down into the pool, scattering water across the chamber floor. Its magic had failed and the human had somehow created a focused fire attack so strong that it had inflicted a grievous wound upon the mighty Beast. The attack had been so swift that it had happened in the blink of an eye. The Beast had never experienced an explosion like that before. Many of its nerve endings burned away instantly along with a good portion of its scaled face in the attack.
I will find that disdainful human creature and make it suffer for what it's done to my face. Then I will fly out from my home, attack another of these human cities, and lay waste to it. I do not know how it was able to wound me, but these humans will suffer a horrible and agonizing fate for each and every scale I’ve lost.
The anguish it had felt when the pain exploded along the side of its face, which caused the Beast to writhe upon the ground screaming in agony, still tormented it. When the human attacked, time had become a blur and seemed to last an eternity. During that lapse of time, the human must have escaped, or been crushed.
The Beast used his magic to make the memory of that night return. It remembered how it had struggled to sniff at the air, trying to find any traces of the vermin's scent. Due to the damage to its face, it was not able to find the scent. The Beast determined that it must have killed the pathetic human. Maybe it rolled around in agony as its soft squishy body crushed into the ground, or maybe its body washed down river and now rests at the bottom of the ocean where the fish can feast on its bloated carcass.
However, even with the restored memories it wondered if that was true.
The night of the injury, the Beast had lashed out at the remaining structures of the city before leaving it. When it was done, the Beast used the last of its power to return to its home where it could nurse its wounds and allow its body to heal.
The Beast roared in pain and anger as it relived the unpleasant memories.
How it hated that pathetic human!
The Beast laid its head down upon one of the vents, allowing the rush of warm air to soothe its pain. Several minutes passed, and it drifted off to sleep. As it slumbered, the Beast’s dreams filled with past glorious days when it had brought about fire, death, and ultimate chaos. Pleasure coursed through its body as it relived its past, killing human and beast alike.
Then the dream shifted to the present, and the Beast found itself standing over the river, reliving those last few moments before the explosion. However, this time it had caught the human before it had attacked. The Beast relished in the feeling of its talons wrapping around the human’s body, nearly crushing the life out of it before splitting the terrified human in half. It savored the warm sensation of the human’s blood as it ran down the curves of its teeth and its long reptilian tongue.
The dream shifted once again to the Beast lying on the ground with several large piles of gold encircling it. The gold glittered and sparkled in the Beast's cold and deadly eyes. A shiver of delight ran down its spine as it weaved itself through and under the mounds of treasure. There was nothing quite like the sensation of having gold and gems sliding between its scales, with the exception of the intoxicating scent of another creature's fear.
As the Beast slept, it moved its head and neck around, pantomiming its dream. Then it winced in agony as the side of its damaged face scraped along the cavern wall. The pain and shock immediately pulled it out of its deluded dream. It slammed its fists down upon the hard stone floor trying desperately not to scream out in agony. It inhaled deeply in order to control and suppress the pain that coursed through its body.
The long claws of its talons bit deeply into the stone floor as the creature tapped into the innate power it commanded. Once it felt the connection, it ordered the earth to flood its body with warmth and strength. The elemental influence responded to the call of the power. The Beast's body quivered in ecstasy as it soaked up the heat that emanated from the earth beneath its feet.
Once again, the Beast tapped into the power and leeched the strength from the very bones of the world around it, healing wounds and quickening its recovery. Muscle and sinew regrew, knitting back together, reconnecting to the bones and ligaments around The Beast’s exposed jawbone. The Beast grunted in discomfort as the power took over, renewing damaged tissue. Then as quickly as it had begun, the Beast's influence over the earth gave out and the healing stopped.
Fury burned in the Beast’s remaining good eye as its power gave way and the pain returned. It felt the fluctuation of the ley lines in the nexus and cursed its inability to wrangle the power into submission so it could heal more of its damaged face. Its power had depleted when it had flown to the surface and had exhausted massive amounts of power when it tracked the human vermin.
The creation of the giant maelstrom had depleted a good portion of its power, but even that would have not left it as weak as it was now. The Beast’s foolhardiness and pride is what had brought its downfall. Though it had the ability to command the earth and the air, it was a creature of fire. It had overtaxed the limits of its power when it forced its dominion over the river near the town. The river was a part of the element of water, which was opposed to the Beast’s own natural element. Not only that, but the Beast had forced the river to go against its natural tendency, demanding that it surge forward to bring the human to it.
The Beast had been reckless.
It grumbled in displeasure because it knew that this was the true reason that the human had been able to harm it. Its protections waned along with its power. It was true that its scales offered some protection, but its power over the elements was its true strength and protection.
The Beast could wield the air by creating a wind barrier around its body that would allow it to not only fly, but it could craft walls of hardened air that would deflect and repel most attacks. When it was on land, it could draw substantial amounts of strength from the earth, making its scales stronger than super reinforced galvanized steel. Water too had its own uses and strengths, which the Beast tapped into, but its control over water always drained massive amounts of power, so it rarely used the element. However, after it had awoken, it appeared that its well of power took longer to return than expected.
How can this be? What has happened to the ley lines and the power that once coursed across this world? Was it not that long ago that my energies, when spent, recovered in the span of a day? Now I have to wait weeks for my power to restore!
The Beast sent its power down into the earth, searching out the nexus. All it could sense was a tickle of energy where once there was a raging river of power. Embittered, the Beast tried again to draw forth its power to influence the earth to heal its wounds, but again the power failed. It snarled loudly, causing the cavern to shake and rattle. Several portions of the cavern's ceiling crashed to the floor and exploded on impact, showering the Beast’s scales with broken shards of stone. Its rage lasted for several long minutes, causing the village above to shake violently. Many homes and buildings collapsed from the earthquakes that rolled through the town and beyond.
The small farmhouse convulsed and rattled as the first of many mighty earthquakes rolled across the land. The convulsions were so strong that it threw Rick and Jacobson from their makeshift beds, causing them to crash to the floor and tumble across the wooden surface. A thunderous clapping noise resonated through the small farmhouse.
To Rick, it sounded as if someone had taken a pair of giant flat boards and continuously smacked them together. Rick and Jacobson
tried to get their feet under them so they could find shelter, but the intensity of the quake tossed them to the floor and sent them crashing into the walls. Rick dodged several porcelain plates that came bounding out of an old wooden cabinet, eventually crashing to the floor and splintering into hundreds of pieces upon impact.
Everything shook. Rick watched helplessly as Jacobson tumbled across the floor into the small parlor. Jacobson grabbed for anything that would keep him from bouncing along the floor. Rick threw out his hand to help but immediately had to pull it back so that he wouldn't lose his hold. Jacobson bucked along the ground until he was thrown into the parlor doorframe. He grabbed hold of the doorcasing and held on for dear life. Rick's eyes widened when he saw the hallway floorboards ripple in a wave. It was like watching a drop of water strike a still pond.
The walls shook with such brutality that both men feared that the old farmhouse would collapse on top of them. Sections of the ceiling started to cave in, so they grabbed what they could and staggered through the madly shaking house. They ran for the door and to their freedom from the insanity.
The earthquake continued to churn, causing great vibrations to slam into the old farmhouse. The quakes threw Rick from his feet and slammed him against the wall; his shoulder made a sickening pop as he hit the wall. White-hot pain exploded in his shoulder causing him to scream out in pain. Rick crumpled to the floor trying to stay conscious through the pain. The last thing he wanted was to pass out and have the quake toss him around like a rag doll.
Jacobson didn't fare much better during the mad dash to the farmhouse’s front door. As he made for the door, he tripped over a rolling vase in the hallway and tumbled into a small table. To Jacobson's misfortune, the table had been made of a sturdy oak, which caused him to bounce off the furniture and crash to the floor.
Jacobson recovered quickly and got back on his feet. He stumbled over to where Rick leaned against the wall, trying to stay conscious and anchored amidst the chaos. Each time a vibration struck the house, it slammed Rick’s wounded shoulder back into the wall, renewing his agony. Jacobson helped Rick to his feet, and they stumbled to the door.
The Shadow Above The Flames Page 21