by Dan O'Brien
“You are quite a leader, Seth Armen of the North,” spoke Hugo, his face serious. “If we escape this place, I will owe you a great debt. One that I am afraid I will not live to repay in my old age.”
“The only payment I require is that you continue on, so that you may see that freedom.” Hugo nodded, his eyes closed. He moved closer to me, reaching out into the darkness and as he did, I grasped his other arm. Turning to me, his eyes were wild for a moment. “I am not going to push you in, old man. Use me as a brace to find your footing.”
He nodded back shakily and tried to smile, though it did not fit. Reaching into the darkness, supported by my arm, he disappeared as the others had. The darkness embraced him as he slid down to our freedom. I stood for a moment, looking back at the sounds of the guards and lowered my head. Thoughts of Leane clouded my mind, my judgment. Springing off my feet, I dove into the darkness. I grasped the cable that linked me to the woman I loved and wrapped my feet around it. Then, I slithered into the shadows.
I WAS THE LAST to touch my feet in the basement. The darkened interior was older than the cell blocks; the floor was dirtier. Cracks ran the length of it like a great dark highway. Chren had begun to look for something we could use in order to escape. Fredrick was doing much of the same; however, Hugo still wore the helmet and reached out into the darkness with frantic fingers. “They are on to us,” he said with a stutter. “They have alerted all levels to our escape….”
“Do they know our whereabouts?” I asked.
He shook his head. Reaching out with his hands once again, he manipulated the network. “I can’t be sure. There are heat signatures markings on all floors, even the cell block immediately above us.”
“What does that mean?” urged Fredrick, reemerging from the darkness.
“It won’t be before they find us,” I mused, moving off into the darkness where Chren had disappeared.
I pushed aside the random machinery that was in my path.
“What now, Seth?” called Hugo, far behind me.
“We find that exit tunnel,” I replied without breaking stride.
I came to a stop as I almost collided with Chren, his still figure gazing up at a large machine. Its darkened exterior was made even darker by its inactivity.
“I can’t be sure to how deep it goes. The tunnel is just a corridor beneath the earth heading west,” returned Hugo, bumping into me and then falling back. He pulled the helmet from his head as he sat. Hugo looked up at me with frantic eyes; his hair was a wild mess and his clothes disheveled.
“This is our way out,” spoke Chren, his voice echoing in the cramped basement. Reaching forward with his hand, he touched the exterior of the vehicle.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It is a TH-4500 armored vehicle, most commonly used by the common houses of Culouth. This model is clearly outdated. Their weapons are more than likely fried; the external bays seem corroded. I couldn’t be sure without closer inspection of them. It is fair to assume that the core is still intact given the longevity of these beasts. The repulsion system should still be functional as long as the individual drivers are not damaged.” Chren turned and looked at me. Using his hands, he made a dome by cupping them over an invisible structure. “The core is encased in a reinforced bay, which is indestructible. The energy core is a reciprocating engine, meaning that it does not erode over time; instead, it recycles the energy after each use.”
I was overwhelmed by the information. “Can you drive it if it is functioning?”
Chren chuckled slightly. “I was a soldier in a Culouth house. That will be the easy part.”
“That’s enough for me. Get it open and let’s get out of here,” I replied.
Chren nodded as he moved around the side of the Series 4500 and ran his hands along the black metal. Stopping as he felt the ridge of the exterior console, he depressed the flat panel. The groan of the metal filled the air as the hatch exploded open with a dust cloud. A musty odor resonated from within. Chren poked his head in, his body still visible; and then, he disappeared inside. Hugo held the helmet in his hands while Fredrick walked around and ran his hand along its sides.
“What things we must have missed trapped in the tundra for so many years,” Fredrick marveled.
“And a great many things you should be glad that you did not see,” replied Hugo.
Fredrick looked back. He jerked his hand away from the machine as a rumble echoed in the basement; it was accompanied by a startling screeching noise that came from the Series 4500. The blackened exterior glistened as lights along the front of the machine ignited in one long line, blinding all of us. We moved to the side of the vehicle in time to see Chren poke his head out once more.
“Everything seems to be in order. This baby is ready to go as soon as we are,” he called over the roar of the engine.
“Where do you think you are going?” yelled Jabo from across the room.
I turned. The world dissolved into slow motion as I saw him standing there. I stopped halfway up the ramp into the Series 4500. Lowering my head, I placed my arm against the side of the machine and held it there as Jabo stood his ground. Banging my clenched fist against the vehicle, I pushed myself away from it.
I was so close to freedom.
“I told you before. I have somewhere else to be,” I replied.
The rumble of the engine served as background to our struggle.
“There is no escape from here. The Citadel is the end of a road,” he replied, drawing his hands from behind his back.
Two blades were held tightly in his hands.
“I guess we are at a crossroads, you and me,” I replied. As I started to pace around him, his movements mirrored my own. “I have a family to get back to, a journey to finish. This cannot be where I end.”
Jabo lowered his head. “I am sorry that I must keep you; yet, this is an honor. You are a man worthy of death at my hands.”
Fredrick moved down the ramp of the Series 4500. Coming up behind me, he saw Jabo standing across the room. “Seth, what are you doing? We have to leave here.”
“You guys go on ahead, I’ll catch up,” I replied without turning.
“Seth, Leane is waiting for you. You can’t do this,” he protested.
He moved toward me, but I waved my arm back. “I mean it, Fredrick. Get in that machine and get out of here. I will see you later.”
Fredrick opened his mouth to protest once more and I turned, flashing him the angriest glare I could muster. His mouth closed.
I felt the pressure as the Series 4500 lifted off the ground. The haze of heat beneath it was oppressive as it turned. Craning my neck back, I watched as the Series 4500 moved through the wall and then out into a darkness that I could not yet follow. I turned back to Jabo; he watched the Series 4500 depart as well.
“You have no weapon,” he spoke, moving in closer to me.
I reacted by moving around him, each of us hunting the other.
“I need no weapon. I will take yours soon enough,” I replied as he rushed toward me.
He held his hands in close, the blades hidden underneath his forearms. Swinging his right arm out, the tip of the blade came across my chest. I leaned back, lowering my center of gravity, and rolled to my right as he jabbed forward with his left blade. I smirked at him as I danced on my feet lightly. The exhilaration of battle crept into my veins. He held the blades tightly as he circled around me once more. Jabo moved his shoulders to the left and then flashed forward with the right side of his body, swinging the blade in his right hand at my face.
I ducked low. His left hand came around quickly and I leapt between each of the blows. He rolled as I was still in the air, swinging the blade at my face as I fell. I pulled my body away from it. Spiraling, my hands went wide as I used them to right myself, spinning back to my feet.
“You are more skilled than I would have thought,” he spoke breathlessly.
“It would appear you are not a judge of skill at all,” I replied fiercel
y, using the moment to mount an offensive. I circle-stepped forward and then changed the angle of my attack from the left side of his body to his right side. He anticipated before I angle-changed, leaving his right side open. I spun, driving my foot into the side of his ribs. Rolling forward, I moved beneath his arms as he swung his blades wildly in pain. I rolled to a crouch as he grabbed his right side with his left arm.
His face contorted in pain. “You cannot beat me without a weapon,” he roared.
“We shall see,” I challenged.
Grim determination washed over me. Spacing my feet properly, I circled the enraged Jabo once more. His blades were held out wide. He hunched over slightly; dark eyes leered at me. His face became an ugly canvas as he charged forward, swinging his arm in a downward slash. He dragged his left hand down low. I recoiled, drawing my body in close, making him have to reach out to me. The points of his blades gleamed in his hungry eyes as he bridged the distance, committing completely to the attack.
I turned, creating a smaller target. Grasping the wrist of his left hand, I pulled him toward me using his momentum. As he slumped forward in order to reach me, I reversed the flow of his arm. Bending his arm at his elbow against his body, I brought him to a knee. The blade in his left hand sliced at me as I wrenched on the arm I had trapped. Glancing along my side, it tore through my wraps and drew blood. I struck him at the center of his bicep, knocking loose the hold he had on his blade. Ducking beneath the arm I controlled, I used it to throw him a good distance, flipping his body end over end. I moved away from him in quick movements, putting distance between us. Touching my side, I felt the wetness of my blood. I looked up and saw that Jabo had moved farther away from me. He touched a clear console with an outer shell comprised of what looked like glass.
Jabo looked back at me. A cruel smile formed on his lips.
“Let us make this more interesting,” he called across the room as he slammed the point of the blade into the outer shell.
Splintering the cover into thousands of shards, he dug the steel deep into the wall. A wailing sound erupted as he did so and the roof began to rain. Water poured down in sheets. Jabo struggled with his blade, cursing as he realized that it was now imbedded in the wall.
“Down to one,” I called back across the room, drawing his attention.
He stalked toward me and then stopped. Looking down at his empty hand, he stared at me. Grabbing the blade that remained tightly in his fist, he brandished it as he gestured to me. “This time we end it.”
The water poured over me. I watched Jabo move through the water. A river of liquid pooled around us. His head was lowered as he slowed, preparing to pounce. He leapt. His stride was like tundra wolf, blade grasped in both hands high above his head. The water cascaded off of the blade. I was mesmerized as he dove at me; angling just to the side, I dodged beneath his wild attack. He slid along the ground, the blade skittering from his grasp. It spiraled through the water; it made ripples across the pool that stretched out between us. He reached for a weapon that was no longer there, water sluicing from him as he searched frantically.
“There is balance now. No barriers separating your death,” I spoke.
I watched his face contort into anguish as he looked back at me. He was soaked through his clothes; they were now a second skin.
“They will come for you. They will come for all of the north people. In time, they shall all be wiped clean and become one with Culouth,” he spat back. He tore his shirt from his torso, revealing something that I had not anticipated. Seamless steel lines were carved across his chest. It was thicker in some parts, but mechanical throughout.
I was horrified.
He was infected with mechanical parts, consumed by steel.
“You are not a man.”
“In time, all shall be as such,” he spoke reverently, spreading his arms wide.
As he neared me, he went for a killing blow. I saw it in his posture, the angle and position of his feet. All were determinants of what he would do; it made him predictable. The tundra had been a powerful teacher. The power of watching, understanding your surroundings to survive. I deflected the first blow, my left hand sliding along his arm and hooking it. Folding my open hand over his forearm, I pulled his arm down and toward me. This forced him off balance as the second blow came. I released his right arm and turned my forearm up, making contact with his left arm. My right arm was still free. He continued, each accompanying strike throwing him further and further off balance. Making the distance between us closer and closer, there was no more room for him to maneuver. I hooked my foot behind his knee, pushing it in and knocking him to his knees. Reaching back, I gripped his head in my hand.
I tilted his head back, exposing his throat.
“You shall inflict no more pain. No more lives will be taken by your madness,” I whispered, slamming my hand into his throat.
I held him up as his eyes went wide and his body shuddered. He struggled to breathe. Wiping at my mouth, my throat was dry. Thirst overwhelmed me. I staggered from his dead body and leaned against the walls of machinery around me.
I heard the footfalls then, the hurried rush of soldiers’ feet approaching. I knew I had to move, but my body seemed to want to rest. Staggering through the machinery fields like a drunk, I randomly landed on stacks, knocking the smaller pieces from their perches before moving on. I could see the dark recess of the tunnel that Chren and the others had taken.
I finally fell, my hands gripping a smaller machine, a vehicle unlike the one the others had taken. It had two tires: one in front and one in the back. I pushed everything else away and the machine fell to the ground with a heavy noise. Moving alongside it, I pulled it back upright and sat atop it. Studying the panels, I was unsure of how to make it work. Pushing on levers and depressing the switches yielded lights. A bar filled with red and green lights illuminated the panels. I felt the machine hum, the engine rattling.
I placed my hands on the handlebars. I rotated my wrists, unknowingly urging the machine forward. It lifted off of the ground suddenly and I fell backwards, chagrined by my lack of adroitness. With a grunt, I lifted it once more and sat on it. Rotating my wrists once more, this time with less enthusiasm, the machine rocketed forward. The sudden rush of air upon my face was startling. The light of the basement fell behind me and the darkness ahead of me rushed to my vision.
A single light that was attached to the front of the machine cast the only illumination in the dismal tunnel.
I felt the rush. I loved the rush.
Rotating my wrists again, the motion sent me deeper into the darkness.
A darkness I hoped would deliver me back to my family.
THE AIR RUSHING AGAINST my body felt strange. It was cold; yet, it warmed my muscles. The tunnel that stretched out before me was foreign and the ground beneath the vehicle was uneven. I could feel each individual dip and drop along the terrain as I maneuvered it at speeds that were no doubt unsafe. The panel that faced me flashed with bold black letters. I could not understand it. That was until I saw in front of me what the computer had been indicating all along: the Series 4500 the others had escaped in.
I slammed on the brakes, turning the bike as best I could. The bike buckled and fell onto its side, dragging me with it. Sparks ignited all about me as I struggled with the straps that had wrapped themselves around my feet. It rebounded off of the Series 4500 and sent me flying into the clay walls of the tunnel. The machine had stopped, but the front and back tires continued to spin as I watched a dust cloud form around my impact. My vision was hazy as I tried to look out through the dust fog that had blanketed the air.
Figures emerged, faceless as they approached me.
“Seth?” I heard one of them whisper in the darkness.
The edges of my vision had begun to blur. As I looked out at the faces as they grew closer, I thought I recognized the voice.
“He’s hurt.” Another one of them spoke.
I tried to get up, but my body would not resp
ond.
“We have to get him to Duirin.” It was the first voice again.
I could almost see the face. The darkness had spread completely across my vision and I could no longer see.
One of them moved closer. Suddenly, I had the surreal feeling that I was floating through the air.
My mind drifted.
The darkness was welcoming, but then I saw her. Leane: she was outlined in white light. Her body was draped with a dress. The single fabric garment suited her. She moved close to me. She touched my face and held her hand there, looking at me with wide glassy eyes.
Her lips parted. “Soon….” The word was soft and gentle.
As the darkness flashed to white, her face lingered.
I OPENED MY EYES and I could see once more. I knew that I returned to that other reality. It was perverted version of what once was, of what Terra had been. My body was wrapped tightly in tundra garb. Again, it was different; for me to arrive without pretense was an ominous note indeed. I pushed myself from a crouch. I had been upon my back, staring up into the darkness. Upon rising, I saw only more darkness.
I was in a cave.
“Not very imaginative,” I said, my voice echoing.
“There is no more need for that. You have said so yourself.” The voice was darker than the two previous. Its words were ominous. As a figure approached me from deeper in the darkness, I saw that it too was different from the others. The figure was cloaked in shadow from head to toe. A hood covered its features, allowing only white spheres to stare back out at me. “Does my appearance startle you?”
“No, you are as I would have expected. You are the one called Culouth, the one named for the city above. Perhaps the city was named in your honor.”
“There is much that is unknown to you; yet, you continue on your path. There are many that believe that you can complete what you have started.”
“I will see this through.”
Moving closer to me, the being disappeared and then reappeared once more; white spheres stared through me. “You have seen horrors, have you not?”