by K Helms
“Your impressions leave something to be desired,” Basil said with a twitch of the ears.
They were a motley group of friends; a Sasquatch, a one eyed Anubis, along with a long haired metal head, a biracial genius, a Hispanic dwarf and a one-handed hillbilly that sat around the table talking, eating, laughing and loving each other as only friends can. Words of devotion did not have to be said because those testaments were written in their smiles. Arlington raised his glass of water. “To the Guardian,” he said looking at Basil.
“To a nap,” Basil said in a tired but contented voice as he wrapped his long black fingers around his glass.
Nan raised her glass. “To us.”
“To us,” agreed Death and he scanned the faces he had come to trust.
“Babies!” howled Laptu as he lightly petted Juanita’s long brown hair affectionately.
“Oh, what the hell…to babies,” Juanita said, smiling up at the big ape, then looking over the rim of her glass at Arlington, who shifted nervously when he saw her dark eyes lock on his with …with what? Something, of that he was sure, aside from that he had no idea, but he was helpless to stop his face from turning red. There were times when he still missed the liquid courage that he had used as a mask for so long.
They brought their glasses together with a crystalline clink and drank as Basil lapped happily from his glass.
The next morning a heavy shroud of sadness took the place of the cheer of the night before, but Basil paced before his friends with nervous excitement.
Nan reached up and wrapped her arms around his satin black neck and squeezed him so hard that Death feared that if the Anubis hadn't been such a physical specimen she might have broken his ribs. Basil had never been particularly fond of being held, as he had been confined in this ship for long enough, and being held made him feel claustrophobic, but he allowed it and even relished the affection. She smoothed his ebony fur with her free hand and kissed the top of one of his hands as she pulled away.
“I’ll miss you, Mr. Fluffy pants,” Nan said with trembling lips.
Arlington raised an eyebrow as he tried valiantly to restrain any acerbic comments to Basil. Juanita glanced up and saw his crooked grin spread across his face as he mouthed the words, “Mr. Fluffypants?” and she elbowed Arlington in the hip. Although none of the others had known it, Nan had called him that since their first night. Basil had insisted that she not call him that in front of the others, but this time, this last time he smiled his toothy canine grin. She turned and hurried away, already crying.
Death watched her go then held out a hand. Basil took it solemnly. “Thanks for…” he remembered the scene at the Greenbrier. He knew now that without Basil and his silver ship he would have lost his precious Nan. “…for everything.” The Anubis met his eyes for a moment, closed them, reopened them, in silent acknowledgment before shaking Death's hand firmly and then walked to Juanita. Death followed after Nan to console her and let her console him as well.
Basil crouched down, his breath hot on Juanita's face. She pulled the Anubis close. “Good luck, Basil.” She looked troubled, her brow creased with lines and the Anubis placed the palms of his hands on her cheeks; golden bangles chiming from his wrists.
“You take care of these people,” he told her, “especially the hillbilly. He loves you, you know?”
She hugged the Anubis holding him tightly beneath her chin, feeling his fur tickle the skin at her ear, then let him go.
Laptu snatched the Anubis from the floor in his huge arms as the Anubis gave a loud grunt. Laptu began to wail like a baby. Basil didn’t resist, he had known Laptu the longest of any of them and even though the yeti was not exceptionally intelligent, his loyalty and heart was unrivaled by another. “Dog!” cried Laptu then lowered Basil gently to the floor before thundering away, his heels slamming on the floor out of the ship where he howled inconsolably.
“Hey, buddy,” Arlington said.
“Don’t call me buddy,” grumbled the Anubis. “It's undignified.”
Arlington patted his friend on the back affectionately. “One more flight, Basil,” he said, then retrieved the scroll.
A wax seal, brown in color that had once been red as blood, held the brittle paper rolled closed. He broke the seal and unrolled it as if he were reading a king’s decree. He placed it before the Anubis and held it for him so that it wouldn’t roll back up. The Anubis studied it. “It should be easy enough.”
“For you maybe,” Arlington said with heaviness in his heart.
“Are the skulls ready?” Basil asked
Arlington pointed with a nod. “They’re in the duffel bag by the ramp.”
“I’m ready then,” Basil said with an air of anticipation. His voice wavered in its excitement, but his one scarlet eye held steady. The light of the morning caught the earring and it shined brightly in the sun. “Would you do me a favor, Arlington?”
“Anything, old buddy.”
“Have Death Wagon fix those tattoos for you; they are simply atrocious.”
Arlington smiled and looked at the scrawled lines of ink on his exposed arms then shook his head; he was really going to miss his friend.
“No, seriously, they are terrible.”
Arlington rubbed his arm self-consciously and his smile faltered for a moment. “Uh…ok…”
Basil turned his head away. “I’ll be waiting to see you when it’s your time, Hillbilly.”
“I’ll be looking forward to it, fleabag.”
The Anubis chuffed happily.
“No, seriously, you have fleas.”
Arlington vigorously rubbed the Anubis’s scruff then walked to where Nita waited for him by the ramp and the two walked out together.
Basil maneuvered the ship silently into the sky with practiced ease. The silver disk hovered for a moment, tipped its nose forward once, as if in a noiseless salute, leveled out again and then shot upward into the clouds in the blink of an eye. They watched in muted grief as it hurtled to the Northeast and then the ancient canine was gone.
Chapter 73 - The Isle of Hate
Isle of Hate,
Plane of the Ark
The bog that surrounded the Isle of Hate was littered with the wreckage of countless downed aircraft. Wings and tail sections rose from the waterlogged ground like tombstones set askew. The bones of long dead pilots still slumped in their seats, belted in. Some wore headsets; some wore goggles over leather helmets. In one area the size of a football field there rested the remains of a whole squadron of five U.S. Navy Avenger torpedo bombers. Vines snaked through the cockpits like serpents while loons cried in the distance, nestled among the cattails. Smoke stacks of ships and various small boats lie half submerged in the murk; Lichen grew like short, green fur over the rusted metal as the swamp lent them their camouflage, giving them a decade, sometimes a century to slowly settle into its waiting depths.
Regeliel pointed to a high hill where another ring of megaliths stood, stacked while others lie in ruin. “That is where the Gemini said to make our stand,” he said, and the four of them trudged through the shin deep mud toward it. The bog belched bubbles of swamp gasses as hundreds of bodies decomposed beneath the stagnant surface.
“I still haven’t been introduced to any of those sweet looking babes you were telling me about,” Bodie said grumbling as he stepped past the carcass of a dead rat floating on top of the skin of water. “I’m gonna guess that we won’t find any of them here.”
“The glory of battle attracts the eyes of women,” explained the knight.
“Easy for you to say; I’ve got mud up to my balls. What babe is going to look at me all horned up when my crotch smells like swamp ass?”
They climbed from the lowland and began to ascend the steep banks to the circular stone structure. Regeliel instructed Daniel to stay below because of his fleetness of foot, knowing the Lycan would be more useful in the bogs below and could slice easily through the ranks of the dead as they stumbled through the mire. The Lycan obeyed a
nd disappeared into the heavy mist. Bodie watched him pass the remains of a ship called the ‘Mary Celeste’. The name was the only part of the ship not covered by Lichen and other plants, as if it begged to be remembered.
The plateau gave the three of them plenty of room to wield their weapons. They scanned the perimeter of the hill.
“If we become overrun we can fall back to the center to the cairn and fight in a ring with our backs together,” Regeliel said. The cairn situated at the hilltop’s center was different than the others they had encountered and resembled a wide well that descended at least twelve feet into the ground.
The minutes ticked slowly by and the silence became a weight that hung from their shoulders causing them to slump. Bodie tried to keep the mood light with his sarcastic observations, but Mia remained stoic, her jaw clenching and unclenching.
A scream rang out through the bog. It echoed from every direction and was soon joined by a cacophony of the shrill and angry vocalizations of the dead.
“They know we are here,” whispered Regeliel.
“No shit,” Bodie responded. “So remind me again how four of us are going to defeat a whole friggin’ army?”
“We have the advantage of terrain and we have breath in our lungs. We have strong hearts beating within our chests and that, my friend is more than they have,” Regeliel declared.
“That’s weak, man. I think I’d rather have a howitzer.”
Regeliel looked at Mia. Her almond shaped eyes were set in anger, but with the sclera covered entirely in inky blackness he could not tell what her eyes focused upon.
Bodie jogged to one of the megaliths and peaked over the edge of the hill. The dead marched in ragged ranks, steadily approaching the base of the hill.
“They’re at the base of the hill!” yelled Bodie.
The dead began to climb upward with clumsy footing. They could not seem to find their balance on the slick muddy hillside. They began crawling on all fours, clawing to gain ground, while others slid back into the ranks that stood behind them.
From behind those ranks, Daniel’s call pierced the haze and the Lycan darted into the throng and began to attack those furthest from the hill. He struck with balled fists, his long muscular arms levering down with such force that it crushed the skulls and destroyed the fragile brain within their bone shells. Others he slashed at with six inch hooked claws, slicing at throats that easily scourged the decomposed flesh and severed spinal cords with one stroke. He carved into the horde with maniacal rage as he heeded the night song of Luna.
Bodie watched from above cheering his friend on, and then he noticed a familiar faint glow as it snaked between the ranks of the dead. The glow had a reddish tint to it and recognized it to be the Bludglutton that had killed Mick. He told the others and Mia’s sword flashed from its sheath with the rasp of metal grating against metal.
She glared at them through eyes as black as pitch. “I’ll kill him. You two can have the rest.”
Bodie looked up at Regeliel and said “I think she might be overestimating our chances, here.” The knight grinned down at Bodie.
She strode to where Bodie stood and screamed in wordless rage as she glimpsed the crimson cloud snaking its way toward them. The serpentine mist began up the hill in long graceful curves.
“Looks like you got his attention,” Bodie muttered.
The serpent had no problem navigating the steep embankment and within less than a minute it was close enough for Mia to see as it transformed into its physical incarnation and she heard its armored boots as the toes were driven into the side of the hill, giving him steady footing with each deliberate step.
“Watch the flanks with Regeliel,” she told the dwarf. Bodie grumbled as Regeliel bowed his head at her words and donned his helm.
For the first time, Mia heard the Bludglutton speak. It was a strange reedy voice that seemed to reverberate with each clipped syllable spoken. “I have no choice in this matter, girl. You must all be destroyed if I am to see my mother live again.”
Mia had no qualms over stopping that reunion from ever taking place.
The Bludglutton was only two steps below when she struck. Her blade rang against the side of his skull, but did no apparent damage. The blow had not made him stumble, but he stopped again and she swung again with greater ferocity. He parried the blow with his steel armored forearm and battered the sword away from him. He took the final step and stood before her.
“It won’t hurt; you will just begin to feel weak and fade into sleep,” said the Bludglutton.
Mia took a step back and thrust the point of the blade into his chest, her lips drawn back in anger and hatred. The Bludglutton looked at her from his empty red sockets. She twisted the blade viciously and he took a step closer allowing the blade to exit through his back.
“I’m afraid that will do you little good,” the Bludglutton said, and she drew the blade back, grasped the hilt with both hands and swung with all her might up at his neck. As the blade touched the armor, which ran up the sides of his neck, his body became unsubstantial like the fog below them and the blade passed harmlessly through him. The force of her swing spun her off balance and as she tried to right herself she felt his armored arms encircle her from behind.
The dead had begun to ascend the hill and Bodie saw that somehow they had learned from the steps of the Bludglutton as they slammed their feet into the mud toes first, creating rough steps.
“Reg!”
The Nephilim looked and watched the dead walking steadily, making easy progress.
“Why don’t we knock these stones down on them?”
“They’re sacred,” Regeliel said uncertainly.
“Not as sacred as my ass.” Bodie leaned his shoulder against one of the vertical stones and it moved slightly. “I can’t do this by myself!” he shouted impatiently.
Regeliel nodded, leaned over the dwarf and pushed. The vertical stone and the bridge stone slammed into the hillside and rolled into the first rank of the dead, pulverizing them as they continued past and into the next three ranks, breaking bones and smashing bodies into the ground. “Just like bowling,” Bodie said.
“Shall we topple the others?”
“Hell yeah,” Bodie said, “I think I might bowl a perfect game tonight.”
They repeated the process on the remaining stones and when they rolled the final megalith over the side they straightened to admire their handy work. This division of the dead was destroyed, but for a few dozen that still fought their way upward.
Bodie heard the wails of another division advancing toward the hill and sighed, “Well, let’s stack ‘em like cord wood.”
They charged the dead that neared the top of the hill, Bodie hitting low while Regeliel hit high. The sound of steel fracturing bone and the wet thump as it severed flesh and sinew, the occasional snap as a tendon broke like a taunt rubber band, the howls of the Lycan as he slashed and bludgeoned in Lupine fury, the screams of the dead and the screams of the two atop the hill that felled them created a macabre music in the night air.
Mia heard the light ratcheting sound as the Bludglutton’s jaw opened at her ear, and he inhaled deeply. “I can smell your blood, girl,” he said. She ground her teeth together and turned her head to the side. She saw Regeliel and Bodie coming to her aid and she shook her head defiantly back and forth. Mia had promised to make Mick proud of her and she would die trying. If she failed then she would at least be with Mick once again, inseparable by a mortal coil.
The jaws clicked shut and she heard the Bludglutton speak again. “With your blood I can fill the veins of my mother’s corpse and she will live again.” The reverberations in her inner ear from his words made her shiver.
She felt an iron grip pry the sword from her hand and the tip of the blade buried itself in the sodden ground. That incredibly strong arm then encircled her waist. She reached behind her clawing with her sharpened nails; she raked them over the smooth surface of the crystal skull but her nails could not penetrat
e the dense surface. He spun her to face him and she struck at him with her fists, she could hear bones in her hands breaking, but still she struck. His face was inches from hers. She spat and the saliva dripped from his empty eye sockets that seemed to stare ever so deeply into her very soul. She grimaced as she watched his jaws slowly click open and he breathed in. She again clamped her mouth shut, holding her breath but he squeezed tighter against her rib cage, forcing the wind from her. He breathed it in and she watched that thin gossamer ribbon slowly be absorbed within the crystal. She could feel the baby kicking within her womb, struggling, fighting.
Fighting.
She felt cold fingers at the back of her neck, freezing the flesh. Mia reached her hands behind her and felt nothing there. The baby kicked again and again, urging her to do the same, but she could feel her strength being sapped from her very being. She felt again and her fingers were scratched by the twin surgical steel hair pins that held her hair in a tight bun. She grasped the balls at the end of each and withdrew them, spilling her hair in its silken black sheen down the middle of her back. She drew upon the final reserves of her strength and thrust the steel pins into the Bludglutton’s open mouth where they crossed each other and pierced into the hinges of his jaws. They protruded from his mouth and he suddenly dropped her and staggered; with each step vibrations shot through the steel, so light and high that cracks began to form in the skull. The vibrations increased with his terror and the Bludglutton breathed in short harsh breaths as the steel remained seated firmly in place. He stumbled backward and dropped to the wet earth, crawling on all fours to scramble away from the woman.
Mia gasped as she fought to regain her breath, but the baby continued to kick within her, spurring her like a horse and rider. Fight, it said.
The ringing of the steel and crystal grew louder and faster and sharp cracking sounds issued from the skull. She watched in ferocious delight as the Bludglutton grasped both sides of its skull with its steel sheathed hands and moaned fearfully.