Children of the Fifth Sun

by Gareth Worthington

  Kelly stepped toward him until he was close enough that his hushed voice could be heard. “I don’t think it’s Wak. You said it yourself—it only ever attacks when provoked, and it usually hits everyone at the same time. This feels ... off.”

  Teller narrowed his eyes. “We can’t see. They’re using the shadows.”

  “Fuck this.” Kelly pelted away from Teller and burst through the protective circle, barging past two of the soldiers and bolted for the Chinook. He slammed into the side of the cockpit and flung open the door. Before he could climb inside, a boot met him squarely in the jaw, sending him flying backward and into the dirt. The headlamps of the chopper burst into life, flooding the camp in bright yellow light.

  Freya stared past the crumbling walls and low-level shrubbery at the now visible army of Chinese men, each wielding a pistol, blade, or hatchet.

  “Sha¯!” screamed the voice over the chopper’s loudspeaker. The one-hundred-strong army cried out and ran at the Americans. Kelly jumped to his feet and ran back to the relative safety of his group, protected behind Teller’s wall of soldiers.

  “Motherfuckers stole my idea.” Kelly struggled for breath.

  The clash of metal on metal was deafening. Gunfire exploded in random directions as the Chinese killers deftly dodged and slid around the Americans.

  “Fall back!” commanded Teller. “Regroup! Everyone with me!”

  The soldiers regained their composure and formed a loose huddle, backs to each other, with Freya, Minya, and Kelly at the center.

  “Stop!” yelled the voice from the helicopter.

  The Triads ceased their onslaught and waited some twenty feet from the group. A slender figure sauntered down the stairs of the Chinook and stepped out onto the dirt track, brandishing a large meat cleaver. He confidently walked the fifty yards from the helicopter and stood, facing the Americans, between two of his minions.

  “Who the fuck is this guy?” Kelly asked.

  “I’m the man who will take the ultimate weapon from you and then kill you. Or, perhaps, I’ll kill you and then take the weapon. I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Okay, you’re a politician. Never actually answering my question.”

  “Sagane,” Teller said through gritted teeth.

  “Very good. Now, where is the creature?” the Shan Chu hissed.

  Freya leaned into Teller and whispered, “We’re too open here. We’ll never survive this. We have to fall back. We need to get to higher ground. We can fall back to the pyramid just east of the road. It’ll give us the advantage.”

  He nodded. “How far away is it?”

  “About one mile, but there’s a pretty steep incline first.”

  “Where is it?” demanded the Triad leader again.

  “You know, I’ve had it up to here with assholes wanting to get their hands on this goddamn thing,” yelled Kelly through the wall of soldiers. “Have you even seen it? It’s nuts. What am I saying? Look at you.”

  “Shut up!” Teller yelled. “Boys, delta-bravo-delta, one mile! Move it!”

  The soldiers moved as one, opening fire on the first row of Chinese attackers.

  Freya grabbed Kelly by the scruff of his neck and wrenched him. “Run!” she screamed.

  They raced across the grounds of the citadel, protected by the moving wall of gunfire spraying into the night behind them. Reaching the top of the stairs, they fell over the crest before sprinting for the Pyramid of the Sun. Their feet kicked at the rocky ground, breaking their gait and slowing their escape.

  A deafening explosion ripped into the night and pieces of metal pinged and clanged in the distance. Everyone—Americans and Chinese alike—threw themselves into the dirt and covered their heads.

  Teller pulled his arms from his head and glanced backward. The Chinook had been blown to smithereens. Fuck. That was our ride out of here. “Move it!” he ordered. “Move your fucking asses!”

  The soldiers scrambled to their feet and pelted forward, taking refuge behind one of the large walls of brick that were evenly spaced along the Street of the Dead.

  “Reload and regroup!” Teller ordered.

  The soldiers complied, clicking new magazines into their weapons.

  Kelly rested the back of his head against the wall, his eyes screwed closed and heart pounding. “Jesus, we gotta get the fuck outta here.”

  “I know, we gotta—”

  Teller’s reply was interrupted by a white flash streaking across their path.

  “What is it?” Freya asked, looking over her shoulder at the Chinese assailants who had regained their footing.

  “Wak,” Teller whispered.

  “Shit,” Freya replied, whipping her head around to see.

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know. It was just there—”

  From beneath a crooked, gnarled tree, a low-slung form slinked across the dusty road. Not quite on all fours, the naked creature moved on two bent hind legs, using its forearms for support. A shock of greasy, limp blonde hair hung from its head and covered its face. It hovered there in the middle of the street, swaying from side to side and stared at the Americans.

  “Jesus, that’s Vicky,” Freya whispered, horrified.

  Victoria cocked her head to one side and then the other but did not speak. It was as if somewhere in the recesses of her mind she knew the hairless, two-legged animal was trying to communicate, but she could not understand.

  From the shadows behind Victoria, the large, muscular form of Wak appeared. Matching her stance, it sidled up to her, its eyes narrowed and focused, watching—waiting.

  “Damn, look at that thing,” Teller said.

  Kelly opened his eyes to see what his military comrades were bleating on about. He stepped away from the wall and peered between the shoulders of Teller and Freya. “Vicky?” Kelly asked the question but expected no answer. It was her. He just didn’t want it to be. He stretched out a hand. “Vicky, come with me. It’s okay.”

  The woman backed away.

  Teller glanced behind. “Shit. We don’t have time for this. They’re almost here.”

  Kelly watched his friend closely. She wasn’t herself anymore. He didn’t know what she was. She had devolved to a state of animal instinct to survive. It was all because of that creature and their bond—intertwined with its twisted mind. She wasn’t strong enough. He had to break it. If he could just hang on to the goddamn thing, maybe it would sense Kelly had been bonded to one of its kind before. It would let her go.

  “Fuck it.” Kelly sprang forward, his arms outstretched to envelop Wak and tackle it to the ground.

  As he flew through the air, Victoria launched herself at him, driving her head into his solar plexus. A sickening crunch filled his ears as she pummeled him into the earth as if he were a child’s toy. She squatted on him, her bare and bloodied feet flat on his chest and her rough webbed hands gripping his t-shirt.

  Kelly yelped in pain and screwed up his eyes.

  Victoria craned her neck and pulled him close, sniffing at his skin. Her blood-red eyes stared out from sunken sockets.

  “Vicky,” wheezed Kelly.

  Wak tore across the path again, grabbed up Victoria, and swiftly disappeared down a small, dark tunnel in the stonework beneath the great pyramid.

  Once again, Kelly howled as the pressure on his ribcage was relinquished and the bones protecting his heart and lungs flexed back into position.

  “Kelly!” Freya screamed, flying to his side.

  “Jonathan, we need to get him up.”

  Teller took quick and powerful strides over to Kelly and in one motion bent down and grabbed him by the armpits.

  Kelly groaned.

  “C’mon!” ordered Teller.

  A lone bullet screamed past Minya’s right ear. She instinctively fell to the ground and covered her head. “Yebat!”

  “They’re too close!” yelled Freya. She pulled her Beretta, pointed it in the direction of the Chinese, and released several controlled shots while stepping s
lowly backward.

  “Hold your fire! Save your ammo!” commanded Teller, dragging Kelly by his armpits.

  The soldiers complied but still held their defensive line, guns drawn and aimed high. A horde of Chinese warriors trudged forward, maneuvering between the dead bodies of their fallen brothers. Their chests were heaving, sweat pouring from their brows.

  “Wait,” called their commanding voice again. The Shan Chu skulked out from the dark and came to the fore, presenting himself to the Americans as if he were bulletproof.

  Freya didn’t wait for him to open his mouth and fired off a round directly at his chest. As if he had anticipated her move, the Shan Chu had already sidestepped and thrown a shuriken that sliced through the air and clanged against the barrel of Freya’s Beretta, knocking it from her hand.

  “I will not ask you again, stupid Americans,” he hissed. “Where is the creature?”

  “Fuck you!” Freya spat. “Come and get it, asshole.”

  “Thanks for that, honey,” Teller said under his breath.

  “You bore me.” The Shan Chu snarled, pulling his cleaver from its holster.

  Teller sighed, accepting that this was probably where he was about to die. But if that was to be the case, he wasn’t going to go down without taking a few of those bastards with him. Just when he had resolved to dump the limp Kelly to the floor and launch directly at the arrogant Chinese leader, a loud whump sound snapped him back to the real world.

  A second whump reverberated off the old brickwork as one of the Triads slammed into the ground, his head exploding and splattering brain matter across the dirt. The Shan Chu instantly turned tail, slipping into the night like a ghost.

  Freya, her eyes wild, scanned her surroundings for the weapon. “What the hell is that?”

  “Help,” Teller replied, almost laughing.

  “What?” yelled Freya. The constant deafeningly loud screams were difficult to be heard over as massive shells tore through men’s bodies.

  “Kobayashi Maru. I don’t believe in no-win situations, remember? Quick, down here.” Teller hoisted Kelly back into a comfortable position and dragged him down the hole through which Wak had disappeared.

  Freya grabbed up her gun and fired off several shots into the throng of wailing Triads before grabbing Minya by one arm and heaving her up. “Move!” she screamed in the Russian woman’s face. “Now!”

  Minya didn’t protest and quickly dove through the wide crevice in the ground.

  “Tom, move your ass!” Freya called over her shoulder.

  The soldier obeyed and scrambled after Freya, followed by the few remaining members of his unit.

  Location: Under Teotihuacan, Mexico, South America

  They slumped to the ground, breathless and sweating. They had run down the length of the tunnel until they’d reached an opening into a wider section, a small cave no more than fifteen or twenty feet across. It was roughly circular in shape with one exit behind them and one in front of them. The atmosphere was remarkably cool and incredibly damp. The musty air filled the nostrils of the beaten soldiers. Despite the dankness, it seemed to be a good place to stop—especially since the light from outside was no longer bright enough to light their way.

  Freya unclipped a small flashlight from her belt and held it in her fist, wielding it like a knife. The bulb pointing out from under her pinky finger, she clicked it on with her thumb and swung the beam of yellow light methodically, turning a full 360-degree circle. The slim finger of illumination seemed pathetic in the all-consuming dark that dwelt within the cavern. Occasionally, a rock or a jagged crack came into view, but the walls were smooth as if man-made and gave no information as to their exact location. It unnerved her—so much so she had an uncontrollable need to call out into the void simply to hear a voice, even if it were her own. “Sound off.”

  “I’m here.” Teller panted.

  “Tom,” the soldier replied.

  Three more men called out.

  “I am here,” Minya replied.

  “I didn’t hear Kelly. Kelly?” Freya yelled. “Kelly!”

  There was a faint groan from somewhere in the cave.

  The soldiers clicked on their flashlights. Their collective beams illuminated the grotto and the broken body of Kelly, huddled against a wall.

  “Kelly!” Freya leapt to his side and pulled his head back to look at his face. “Are you alright?”

  He grunted and opened his eyes, though they remained squinted, reflecting his pain. “Yeah. Gotta say, though, I’ve felt better. My insides are killin’ me.”

  “C’mon now, beaten up by a girl?” She forced a laugh. “Get your ass up.” Freya swung one of Kelly’s arms over her shoulder and attempted to lift him, but his dead weight collapsed on her, driving them both to their knees.

  “Whoa there.” Teller jogged over and pulled Kelly directly upward into the exact position Freya had been attempting. “I gotcha. C’mon.”

  Kelly groaned again. He didn’t want to be rescued by this guy.

  Freya clambered to her feet and scanned the cave. A couple of the soldiers were pulling gear from their packs, halogen lights with foldable rigs to illuminate their surroundings. Tom and the last soldier were scanning with their flashlights, weapons readied. Minya was shuffling nervously on her own, the glowing end of a newly lit cigarette illuminating her worried face.

  Freya stormed over to the Russian woman, grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, and slammed her into the wall. Minya’s cigarette fell from her lips.

  “You!” Freya shouted. “I’ve seen you with your pager or whatever the hell that thing is.” She released one hand and patted the woman down, eventually forcing her hand into a pocket and yanking out a small, electronic object.

  She waved it in Minya’s face and threw it away. “You’ve sold us out to the Chinese. Don’t think I’ve forgotten your dig in Siberia was funded by them. You let that one slip on our last meeting.” Freya shoved the woman in frustration.

  “Minya Yermalova,” droned Sasha as he stepped out of the gloom from the tunnel that exited to the outside world. He was followed by several of his personal strike force.

  Freya stepped away from Minya and pulled out her Beretta. “Freeze, motherfucker. I swear to God I will blow your fucking head off. Identify yourself.”

  “Help,” Teller said. “Let him past, boys.”

  The American soldiers parted, allowing the Russian contingent through.

  Freya glared at Kelly. “What?”

  “I am Polkovnik Sasha Vetrov, FSB.”

  “What the hell are the FSB doing here, Jonathan?”

  “They’re working with me,” Teller replied.

  “He’s here for her,” Freya deduced. “To take this treacherous bitch away.”

  The Russian officer eyed Minya but stood his ground near the entrance to the tunnel. “Minya Yermalova. Former resident of a Siberian prison. Drug running for your uncle, if I’m not mistaken?”

  “Petookh opooscheny,” Minya said under her breath.

  “Oh, da. Prison slang, Minya?”

  Silence.

  “She’s spent time in a Siberian prison? Then how did she get to be a professor of anything?” Freya asked.

  “It wasn’t a normal prison. It was a sharashka, a secret research laboratory,” Sasha explained. “A remnant of the—”

  “I know what a sharashka is,” Freya snapped. “A Gulag labor camp. And I know the scientists at a sharashka were usually picked from various prisons and assigned to work on technological problems for the state. But these were all shut down decades ago. She’s what, mid-thirties, forty max? That would have meant the prisons were still around in the eighties.”

  “They still exist now,” Sasha replied.

  “And how would she escape? How—”

  “She was sponsored,” Sasha interrupted.

  Freya frowned. “Sponsored?”

  “Yes. Her language skills were put to good use in the sharashka. She could communicate between the scientis
ts. She learned a lot. Eventually, someone paid to take her from the prison and continue her education.” Sasha spoke to the group, but his gaze was fixed on Minya.

  “That crazy bastard outside. He sprang you.” Freya slammed Minya into the wall, again.

  “Actually, no,” Teller replied.

  Freya spun around and stared at him, bewildered. “What?”

  Teller slowly lowered Kelly back to the floor and propped him against the wall. “Minya’s sponsor was a little closer to home.”

  “Stop being cryptic, Jonathan.”

  Teller held his palms outward in a calming motion. “Alejandro. It was Alejandro.” He eyed Freya carefully. She had become a wolverine, angry and defensive, and all because Kelly was injured.

  “Kelly’s Alejandro?” Freya pressed, incredulous.

  “Yes.” He nodded slowly. “He found her while working up there. He paid the Gulag guards for cheap labor on his digs and expeditions. It seems he took a shine to her.”

  Freya turned back to the Russian woman. “That’s how you knew him?”

  Minya stared into Freya’s eyes. “Da. He helped me. Gave me education and money for school.”

  “Why? Why you?”

  The Russian woman jerked free of Freya’s grasp, her eyes flaring. “I was pregnant when he came to the prison. A gift from one of the security guards. The old man took pity on me. He paid much money to take me away.”

  “I don’t get it. If he was your friend, why betray us?”

  “Oh, she didn’t,” Sasha replied.

  “Tell. Me. What. The. Fuck. Is. Going. On,” Freya seethed through clenched teeth, her firearm now pointed directly at the Polkovnik’s head.

  “Okay, okay, calm down,” Teller said, his tone as calm and comforting as possible.

  “Minya hasn’t been communicating with the Chinese. She’s been texting her son back in Saint Petersburg,” added Sasha. “Nikolaj.”

  Freya scowled at Minya, who only nodded to confirm Teller’s story.

  “Then how did that crazy bastard find us? How did he know we were here?”

  “Because you do have a traitor in your midst, don’t you, Mr. Radley?” Before anyone could move, Sasha had pulled his MP-443 Grach and pointed it at the soldier’s head.