Coyote Chronicles (The Veteran Book 1)

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Coyote Chronicles (The Veteran Book 1) Page 26

by Anton Le Roy


  Debris bounces all around as I sluggishly start getting to my feet. Someone stands over me. “Gregor.”

  “Right here, old pal,” he replies holding out a helpful hand, “Better get out of here before the temple buries us!”

  I’m slow getting up. Everything hurts. I don’t know if my body is capable of taking any more beatings before something snaps or it gives up altogether. I think all that’s keeping me going is the adrenaline and a little stubborn will to see it through to the end.

  There are Newborn bodies strewn everywhere – Blackwater Platoon really gave them a good hiding in the end, despite the odds, just like the Capt promised. Those remaining Newborn not hacked down by Blackwater are scattered and fleeing through the many new openings in the walls. Can’t see Vim, he must be running too, the coward. Blackwater leave them to it and surround us. All the old faces are here. Unfortunately many of the new faces aren’t.

  “Get your soldiers out of here, Capt!” I shout above the din. “It’s over!”

  “The Coyote will destroy it?” asks Capt. “That comet looks damn close!”

  “Aye, we’ve won.”

  Gregor claps a hand on his shoulder. “Couldn’t’ve done it without you all. Now bugger off will you, we’re right behind you!”

  Capt smirks and they all scamper off, carrying the bodies of their fallen comrades with them.

  We both stand there for a second, watching the temple slowly self-destruct into weirdly floating debris.

  I then glance at all the blood on Gregor. What temptations must he be fighting amongst this deadly chaos to stave off the need for blood in his mouth, to become a true vampire? He smiles grimly and shakes his head. “Don’t worry, not yet.”

  Good. That’s a relief! I nod slowly.

  “Where’s that bastard, Satipo?” he asks.

  “There,” I point. He’s standing below the Coyote, watching his plan turn to shit. Just like I said it would.

  “He’s finished. Leave him,” Gregor growls dismissively.

  “No, I can’t.”

  He makes to argue and then sighs. “Even after all he’s done you still wanna save him. Fine.” A hand of his grips my arm powerfully. “Just don’t die for that lousy fucker.”

  I shake my head. “Not gonna happen, old friend.” I’m no longer willing to trade my life for Satipo’s. I’m no longer willing to die to give Satipo peace. I want to live. “Seeing Satipo controlled by the past made me realise just how fed up I am with torturing myself over it, that I want to finally be free of it.”

  He grins. “Then go be free.”

  Ignoring my tired limbs on the brink of exhaustion I turn away from my last true friend and head back into the maelstrom.

  The Coyote shivers violently from its attack. New God versus new Goddess – I know which one I’d wager on. And then I wonder, is the beam of energy coming from its mouth to destroy Umbra or is it sucking the energy out of Umbra back into the Coyote? Taking all of her strength for itself? This close to the energy pillar it’s bright enough to hurt my eyes and I have to raise a hand to shield my vision, worried that my eyes are going to burn away if I look at it for too long.

  I reach Satipo who’s standing alone amongst a load of dead Newborn, just watching in silence what’s happening above.

  He finally hangs his head.

  I still feel sorry for him, even though he did just try and kill everyone on the planet and I know there’s still the possibility he’ll come after us all again, including Wetlock. This has to end, one way or another.

  I take a big nub of Redleaf and swallow it down. It’s probably too much to take in one hit and instantly my head and body feels tingly, a little weightless and all pain is mellowed out. I need all the help I can get with what I know is coming.

  “Didn’t I tell you this would happen?” I’m standing behind him. The greatsword is on the floor by his feet and not far off is my own sword. It calls to me and my hand aches to hold it again.

  Satipo’s response is snappy. “Didn’t ya just. Right as fucking always, Vet.” He doesn’t look at me yet. The ground tries to knock us to the floor and we both ride the wave. “Seeing those old friends, watching them betray me. Even Whistle… Even Whistle! All of them betrayed me!”

  “They didn’t betray you.”

  “Bullshit! I thought they’d be on my side. I thought they’d want vengeance too. How could they not blame ya? And yet, even after all ya did, they’re still on ya side!” He finally turns to regard me and I can see how distraught he is. A broken man.

  “You’re wrong.” I soothe, “They don’t blame me for what happened.” I close my eyes and picture them all looking at me. All this time they were trying to tell me what I didn’t want to hear, or was too stubborn to accept. “I don’t think they ever did. Why can’t you see that what happened was just an accident, a roll of the dice?”

  He balls his fists and bares his teeth. “What the fuck happened to ya in that cell, Vet? I thought I broke ya!”

  “Aye, you did. Then I fixed myself.”

  A humourless laugh. He’s damn pissed at me. “Fixed ya’self and fucked up me plans. Well, don’t I look like the damned idiot for ever involving ya, eh? So, ya not gonna roll over and die for me in some daft attempt to make amends? A way for us to find peace?”

  “No,” I reply plainly. “I was a fool to offer such a thing.”

  “An empty gesture, then,” he spits.

  “No. I was blind to the truth. I’m truly sorry for everything that happened to you and Pitt and the others, but the blame doesn’t lay wholly with me and if you don’t want to make peace then that’s just something I have to accept. We all did what we thought was right at the time. We all made mistakes when the world was falling down around us, and the truth is that the Six was already dying that day and it had nothing to do with me, or you. I want to help you, Satipo, want to save you, but if you don’t ever let me and I have no choice but to fight you, if I have to kill you to stop you killing me or anyone else I hold dear, then I will, because I’m no longer prepared to let you continue on this path.” He stands there in silent rage. “We can end this now, Satipo. All of this crap is over, your Newborn are finished, Umbra is as good as dead. There’s no need for us to do this.”

  “Maybe not for ya, Vet. Me grand plan may have failed, but I’m still sticking to part of it, I’m still gonna kill ya!”

  A sad sigh from me. Fine, if that’s the way it has to be.

  No weapons, no magic, no tricks, just me and him and our fists. Each blow to the body, each punch to the face, each block, each grapple and each kick thunders as loud as that of the noises surrounding us. Huge blocks of masonry spin around us – wait, that’s a little bigheaded – it’s the Coyote it all spins around. Lightning crashes from clouds enveloping Umbra’s comet. The beam of energy resounds like a wailing banshee. Fists crack my jaw and my ribs. My forearms in agony from blocking and my fists shredding from punching. Cracking knuckles against bone. Blood streaming from my face. Punch, kick, swipe, block, dodge. And then too knackered and hurt to bother dodging, both just standing there laying into each other. Two old men duking it out, pummelling flesh. Not quite the demi-god statuses you envisioned, eh, Satipo?

  We pause for breath, circling each other.

  With a smirk Satipo says, “Ya look like crap.”

  “I feel like crap!”

  We both laugh and for a brief moment things are as they once were decades ago. Once again he’s my old friend who helped me a lot in my young life and who reliably stood by my side in the hardest of times. For a brief moment the hatred is gone and there’s a glimmer of what was lost. It doesn’t last. We go back to trying to kill each other again.

  I find myself disappearing into the red mist of battle. Satipo is a symbol of my distraught past and every punch of mine, every satisfying impact, is me pounding away that past. Each punch is to beat away the tears, the hurt, the angry words, the bad choices. Satipo is there no more. It’s myself I fight. It’s my fa
ce I want to smash to pieces and with each blow I feel yet more of the weight of guilt, sorrow and anger dissipate. I need this fight. Funny thing is, I know what Satipo sees too. He also fights the past and each blow he makes at my own body is yet another retaliation against what happened to him over those terrible years.

  A block of his jab and my foot pounds into his belly. Stepping in to smash a left hook to the side of his head. An upper cut then disappears into his face. Satipo staggering back as a huge lump of stone thuds down a mere few feet from us. Shrapnel skitters into my legs. It’s the slightest of distractions. My final blow swipes free air as Satipo blocks to my forearm and pain erupts in my ribs as he punches once, twice and three times, lifting me from the ground in the process. Then a fist appears against my jaw and I stagger, almost falling. The next blow fells me.

  He stands over me, a maniac covered in blood and dust. Eyes wild. Snarl drooling bloody saliva and the lump of a broken tooth. “Get up, ya fucker!”

  Above us a huge chunk of Umbra’s meteor splits to one side and erupts in a shower of flaming fragments.

  I spit out a gout of blood. “Screw you.”

  “Get up!” He hoists me upwards, head butts me and flings me down again. Several kicks wind me and a final one sends my brain spinning within my skull.

  Snatching me about the collar and showering my curled up head and body in a succession of blows. At least he’s too knackered that the blows aren’t full strength. Dropping me to the floor I feel like a pulped lump of meat and bone laying in a pool of my own blood. The Coyote is directly above. It can’t help me now. Rolling onto my back something cuts my finger: my blade, my trusted sword! Fenix comes to me now in my time of need like a reliable hound.

  Satipo picks up the electric greatsword and staggers over to me, spitting out a loose tooth in the process. His battered face looks just like how mine feels. “At ya age, don’t it warm ya heart to know ya’ll die like a warrior? Don’t it soothe ya soul to know it’ll be me that does it?”

  Me onto one sore knee, sword in hand – sometimes I never want to let it go. Masonry falls down all around and we don’t care one bit. The shivering ground causes debris to scuttle about our feet like demented bugs. There’s a ridiculously loud boom as Umbra’s comet flinches and then the whole thing starts splitting apart with fizzing cracks of green.

  After wincing from the explosion I say, “It’s not too late.”

  He grins. “Stop trying to save me.”

  “Can’t help it.”

  He chuckles and gestures to our surroundings. “Even after all this?”

  “Aye.”

  We both laugh at the absurdity of it all.

  “No. Ya can’t save me,” he says with a shake of the head, all humour fading. “Time to join ya ghosts, Vet.”

  He strides forward, his blade swinging to decapitate me while I surge ahead too, under his attack to slash upwards. Blood splashes into my face as his severed arm spins to one side, still holding onto the sword that embeds itself into a stone pillar in a flash of sparks. Satipo stumbles against me and gasps as he’s impaled upon my sword. He hugs me close and I stand there coming to terms with what I’ve just done.

  Blood bubbles at his smiling lips. “I would’ve been glorious in me new world. They would’ve sung songs about me and prayed at my temples. I would’ve lived for as long as the stars decorate the skies. I would’ve been free from all the pain.”

  My eyes blur. “Damn you! I never wanted us to be like this. You’re still my brother, you know that?”

  For the first time he looks sad too. “Aye, I know, Vet,” he nods, “Still brothers. Always brothers. Until death, yeah?” He surveys the Coyote. “Do ya think I’ll join the others?” I honestly don’t know. He looks at me intensely all of a sudden. “Will ya?”

  Pain floods deep in my lower chest. What? What is that? Spreading through my body like fire. Legs weakening. Then another flare of agony. He stabs me a third time with a knife and I pull away, freeing my sword so that gore erupts from his midriff.

  He’s trying to speak around a mouth full of blood while I realise he’s pointing to a knife lodged deep in my side. I pull it out. The blade is long. I stumble back towards an opening in the wall. Satipo, the crazy bastard, is laughing and then he pauses, looks up and then disappears beneath a huge mass of falling stone as the temple finally collapses.

  In that instant it’s like a door is closed on the past.

  Goodbye, old friend. I hope now that you can truly find peace. I really do.

  There’s a sudden blinding green light from above when the comet explodes into nothing and I’m sure I can hear her scream. Into the light Umbra dies and the Coyote lives and the ghosts are at peace in its affectionate embrace.

  Blood foams from my chest: punctured lung? Hell knows what else. I’m outside, can feel the cool open air. Above, the comet and all the meteors have become a billion shards that burn up in the atmosphere. It’s bright enough to feel like daytime.

  I think I’m behind the temple. Alone. The grass is tall around my legs and swaying gently, just like me. Why I keep walking I don’t know because I’ve nowhere to go. Maybe I can find my friends.

  Feeling old. Feeling tired. Strung out. Body, mind and soul. Blood pools in my armour and creases of clothing and my legs are drenched. Finding it hard to breathe leaves me only taking short breaths. Finding it hard to walk too. Have no strength in my hands and that means my sword slips from my fingers. Can sense its anguish, just as I’d predicted, to die beside me and turn to rust as I turn to dust. On my knees. On my side. On my back. A spasm of limbs. Frothing blood on my lips and coughing into the air. Staring at the tumultuous sky. Watching snowflakes disintegrate before they touch the surrounding fields. Pain is fading. The air is even colder, much, much colder, as cold as the blizzard I once found Loktie in.

  The Coyote is a god now and I helped free it. I think I’ll be more than just one of the many phantoms that are now its followers. I’m bonded with the Coyote. We were always bonded. It’s my new master just as Loktie was to the Coyote.

  Don’t feel my body no more as if I’m detached already and there’s no one here to save me this time. Wetlock, I’m sorry. I’m an old idiot and I’m sorry. If I could I would return to you and I would be the man you always wanted me to be, free from that day that tortured me, free from all the other regrets. We could be what we always wanted to be: together and happy. In love. Oh, Wetlock, if I can’t return to you then at least I know you’re safe just like everyone else.

  Vision is fading, enclosing darkness. Ah, death comes – my oldest friend. And then the Coyote appears over me and opens its jaws and the last thing I witness before I die is a blaze of green as it bites down hard.

  Epilogue

  It’s hard not to smile sometimes. The springtime sun is bright, warming down through to my very soul while the gentle breeze catches at my long dark hair and the tall grass and their seedpods, all tickling me where my skin is bare. Ahead is a serene vista: a wall of mountains that gives way to a seemingly endless world of rolling pale hills, trees and cropfields under a deep blue sky while behind me echoes the sounds of a busy town. Broken Naile isn’t broken anymore. The Reeve and his men are dead and while everyone expected the group of soldiers (who had seemingly appeared as if out of nowhere) to take charge, they didn’t. They left too, through the portal I opened for them.

  A whole year has passed since then and I still marvel at it.

  It was a day when everything changed, a day when hopes and dreams for the townsfolk had returned. When they could step from the shadows and live their lives again. Now the place is bustling with activity, bustling with life.

  It was a day when everything changed, a day when Veteran returned to me only to then leave again. I saw in him something that day I’d thought was lost long ago and how I yearned to be a part of that again. How I wanted to stay him and not let him leave. I’m no fool. There’s no stopping some things. There’s no stopping some people. There’s some
times little hope of getting someone off the path that they rigidly follow. And so he went and so he died.

  And yet he helped save us all, along with his friends of course. How many people will ever know that? How many will ever discover the truth of that day?

  Getting up I glance skyward at the sound of a caw. Hugimun, my faithful familiar, soars overhead, circles and then alights on a tall wooden post. The crow speaks to me again.

 

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