Kin of Exile

by Tyler Bunyard

  However, the sound of gunfire and explosions could be heard in the distance. It wasn’t continuous, but it occurred often enough to make both Karrel and Angel worried.

  “How much longer does Dane need?” Karrel asked.

  Angel looked toward the sky. “He’ll give us a signal when he thinks it’s no longer safe to stay.” He brought his gaze back down to the earth and gave a weakened smile as he glanced past Karrel. “Until then, I believe we need to entertain some more tourists.”

  Karrel turned around to find three zweichar covered in dust and rubble. It was the assailants back at the corner-store, and they had finally caught up. Unfortunately, they had also brought friends. Two pyretiffs were leading the charge as the five demons rushed forward to collect their would-be meal.

  Karrel reacted quickly, flipping through the pages of his book and shouting at Angel, “Can you box them into a space?”

  Angel slowly started to rise off the ground, black smoke coursing around his body. “How small of a space?” he shouted back.

  Karrel found the page he was looking for. Surrounded by a wall of black text, a single line of glowing red symbols read off as “Geyser.” He thought for a moment and then called out, “About fifteen by fifteen feet would be great!”

  Angel propelled himself forward through the air and toward his five new targets. Karrel dropped his book and let it levitate in the air in front of him. He began concentrating on the red symbols, both palms firmly placed on the pages of text that the green book held. He loved this variable, but rarely got the chance to use it because of how difficult it was to aim. Hopefully, his dark-eyed friend would be able to solve that drawback.

  Angel circled around the five demons as fast as he could, dodging the molten pot-shots the pyretiffs were firing at him. Landing, rolling, and drifting through the cloud of dirt that followed him, Angel dragged the palms of his hands across the ground while he skidded to a halt. From his hands, a plume of shadowy smoke began to envelop the ground around him, clinging to the earth and extending to the group of demons. The pyretiffs frantically snapped their heads side to side trying to spot a vacant area that did not have the dark substance, while the zweichars swung their swords at the misty ground to no avail.

  Angel rose his hands into the air. Suddenly, a large, thin layer of the pitch-black smoke surrounded the creatures in a small square and rose to encapsulate the beasts. The top of the cube that was formed was open, but the demons had effectively been trapped inside of a small, dark room of Angels creation.

  “This good?” Angel called, a slight struggle could be detected in his voice.

  “Perfect,” Karrel responded, still wrapping the red texts around both of his arms. “Just keep ‘em there for a bit longer.”

  One of the zweichars leapt vertically out of the opening in the top of the shadowy box, but Angel was already above it. His hand turned black with power, and he smashed it back into the trap, sending it soaring to the ground and knocking the other demons onto their backs. “Just don’t take too long!” Angel hollered. “This requires quite a bit of concentration!”

  A few more seconds passed, and Karrel felt the power of the green book surge within him. “Angel!” he blared. “Dodge!” He slammed both of his palms to the floor of the now blackened ground.

  Inside of the large box that Angel had created, a large, glowing, blue symbol formed upon the ground. The light that shown from it was so tangible, it could easily be seen through the pitch-black smoke-covered ground. The fluorescent symbol grew brighter and brighter before ultimately disappearing.

  In an instant, a tower of blue flame surged forth from the earth. A twelve-foot radius of cylindrical, azure-colored fire rocketed toward the heavens, incinerating everything in its path, and causing several of the greenish-purple clouds in the sky to dissipate.

  Angel quickly flipped out of the way from the attack, and though he had put some distance between him and the tower of flames, he could feel the heat resonate around him. The five demons that he had trapped roared in pain as their bodies were quickly converted into ash and cinder. Even the shadow-box itself was starting to be burned away, along with the very ground it was created upon.

  Karrel lifted his hands from the ground. The heat immediately dissipated, and the azure tower of flame nullified itself in an instant. The earth where the demons had stood was now black, not with shadows or dark smoke, but with charred rock and gravel. The ashes of the fallen creatures lifted away with the wind.

  Angel gave a shocked, yet thoroughly impressed expression. Karrel threw his arms in the air, and in a haughty manner projected, “Yeah! Teamwork, bitches!”

  Angel landed a short distance away from Karrel. He was laughing, making rude gestures and comments at the carbonized remains of their opponents. “How d’you like us now–”

  He was cut short by the large thud that appeared next to him. Another zweichar had leapt, from a lengthy distance away, and landed right next to Angel. It brought its sword upward, swinging it like an old golf-club. The attack connected.

  There was no time for Angel to react. He took the full brunt of the strike. It launched him spiraling into the air, a cloud of navy-blue smoke following him as he twirled uncontrollably. He crashed into the third floor of a nearby office building and disappeared.

  Karrel heard another crashing noise on the opposite side of the building, and his eyes widened, realizing just how hard Angel had been hit.

  “Angel!” he screamed. He had only ever seen the navy-blue smoke once before, when Puck had pushed him into the metal grinder, and Angel had been fairly expressive about how painful that experience was.

  Karrel flipped through the pages of his green book and found “F.Aura.” He had waited long enough. Angel might very well be out of commission, so there was no point in continuing to save it. He wrapped the symbols around his hand and slapped himself in the chest.

  Body now glowing with a familiar orange light, he charged forward toward the zweichar that had clubbed Angel. But as Karrel approached the towering beast, a blur scorched past him. Suddenly, a sharp, painful, stabbing pressure was pushing against multiple points on his body, and massive amounts of wind started to crash against his back, even more so than usual. Karrel could no longer feel the ground beneath his feet.

  It took him a moment to realize what had happened, as Karrel watched the broken roads beneath him get smaller and smaller. He looked up to face his new opponent. The umbrabat that was carrying him stared right into his eyes and let out an ear-piercing screech. It seemed confused by the fact that its thin claws had not immediately eviscerated Karrel when it had dived down to clasp him.

  “The worst– timing–” Karrel snarled as he struggled to release himself from the grip of the flying demon. He tossed his green book forward, ahead of the umbrabat, and immediately called it back to himself, all the while clenching his fist readying himself for a strike. The green book flew only a few feet before rocketing back to Karrel’s hand, smacking into the head of the umbrabat on its way. Karrel timed his punch with when the oilskinned notebook crashed into the flying creature. He punched one of the talons, crunching the bones within. The umbrabat shrieked in pain, releasing Karrel.

  Here comes the painful part, Karrel thought to himself, as he plummeted back down to Earth. This wasn’t the first time he had been snatched by an umbrabat, and he had a contingency for this type of situation.

  Throwing his green book slightly underneath him, Karrel called it back to himself once more, though this time more slowly. The book dropped and then immediately began to rise upward. He brought one of his feet to stand atop of the green book while they both fell. Convinced that he was as balanced as he could possibly be, he commanded his book to lift as hard as it could. An immense pressure began to press against the sole of Karrel’s foot, and the book tried to rise itself into the air whilst being underneath the descending body of Karrel. The ground was quickly approaching, but the descent was starting to rapidly slow. Karrel let out a string
of curses as the building he was about to land on got bigger and bigger.

  He took in a deep breath and braced himself. He crashed through the wooden roof of the only residential home left standing in the neighborhood. The ceiling collapsed into the house and Karrel tumbled painfully against the floor, bouncing hard enough to send himself through the front door and back out onto the demolished streets of the city. The orange light surrounding him flickered and dimmed slightly as he came to a stop.

  Immediately, a wave of fatigue consumed Karrel. He groaned and coughed clouds of dust out of his lungs. All things considered, the damage didn’t seem to be too intense. All his limbs still seemed to be working. Nothing vital was protruding from his body, and he had surprisingly avoided any sort of impalation.

  Karrel surveyed his surroundings. It seemed like the umbrabat had carried him a fair distance away from where Angel and he had been. He remembered passing the mutilated residences when they split up from Johnny and Puck, though the houses were not destroyed at the time. He was most likely closer to the other two, but he decided it would be best to regroup with Angel. He did not know the extent of damage that his companion could endure, and his dark-clothed comrade had taken a mighty blow the last time he had seen him.

  First, Karrel had to get his bearings. His sense of direction had been muffled because of the fall. He listened for the direction of the ambient gunfire that now peppered the south side of the city. It took only a moment to determine which way was south, but just as Karrel was about to head in what he believed was Angel’s direction, he stopped and snapped his head to look around behind him.

  He swore he had heard something. Underneath all of the gunfire coming from the south, Karrel swore that he had heard a distant call. He listened again for another moment.

  “…elp… Help!” someone was crying. Karrel was in disbelief. There was no possible way that anyone had survived not evacuating the north side. It was completely overrun at this point. Nevertheless, Karrel headed to the voice.

  He rushed down the street, the voice getting louder and louder as he approached. Turning one final corner, Karrel finally got a look at who was crying. Underneath a pile of bent steel, burnt debris, and broken concrete, lay a young boy. His legs, head, and arms were all showing, but his torso was completely buried. The small child could not have been a day over ten years old and was struggling to no avail to dislodge himself from the trap.

  “Help me! Somebody!” he screamed.

  As he shouted out to the little boy, “Hold on! I’m coming!” something caught Karrel’s attention. In the sky, an umbrabat had stopped cycling around the city, and had changed its course to be linear to the boy, the street, and him. It started to descend.

  Karrel swore to himself and began sprinting as fast as he could to the trapped kid. He was impossibly far away from him. Using his green book would take too much time, and the concentration needed to use it would only slow him down. The umbrabats were wicked fast when they dove; if all his focus wasn’t on accelerating, Karrel wouldn’t be able to save the kid.

  He was almost halfway there. The umbrabat had apparently taken notice of the second figure approaching its original target. It let out a vociferous shriek as it plunged downward, and Karrel struggled not to cover his ears as he ran.

  He was closing the distance fast, but so was the umbrabat. The race was so close it was impossible to gauge who would get to the kid first. The adrenaline surged through Karrel’s veins and his heart felt like it was going to explode. He had never run this fast before in his life, but if he didn’t beat the diving-demon to the boy, there would not be enough time to dig him out of the debris that was trapping him.

  Foot after foot Karrel approached his target, when suddenly everything started to slow down. In fact, everything stopped. Karrel could not move his body, but as he stared in front of himself, he saw that nothing else was in motion as well. The umbrabat was frozen in the air, yet gravity was not bringing it down to Earth. The flames in the adjacent buildings had stopped dancing, and a nearby dust cloud was stagnant. It was as though someone had hit the pause button on the universe.

  Trying to move his muscles, he found that he was unable to do so. There was no force holding him back, and there was no feeling of struggle against whatever was holding his actions; he just simply could not move. It was then that Karrel heard a voice in the back of his mind. It felt like part of his subconscious, that invisible noise that tells you not to jump off the cliff when you’re standing at the edge. He had heard this before. This time, however, the voice was tangible. It was rough, and as quiet as it was, he could feel it booming inside of his brain.

  The raspy voice slowly vocalized its message, “If you try to save that boy, one of you will die. Make sure it isn’t you…”

  The world unfroze and Karrel found himself sprinting once more. The fires began to blaze, and the winds once again washed dust and ash over him. The umbrabat was still swooping down upon its prey.

  Karrel’s pace had slowed, though. He was distracted by whatever the hell had just happened. Was that what people meant by “their lives flashing before their eyes” when they were about to die? Did his survival instincts kick-in to stop him from accidentally committing suicide? A few seconds had passed and Karrel realized that his body was no longer sprinting. He had reduced his pace to a rapid stumble.

  “What are you doing!? Help me!” the trapped boy begged. He had taken notice of his would-be savior, and turmoil masked his face as he watched Karrel’s pace stutter.

  Attempting to regain his previous speed, Karrel urged his legs to work faster. It felt as though they were being restrained by bungee cords. For some strange reason, he was having trouble willing himself to run faster. The umbrabat’s shadow was growing larger and larger, and the kid had taken notice.

  “Come on!” the young boy was crying now, tears streaming down his face.

  The kid’s voice had reached Karrel. A moment of fury overcame him, and he punched his own legs hard. You choose to do this, his own thoughts burned in his mind, selfish survival was hollow. You wanted to know what it was like to put your life on the line for others. This is your chance! Karrel roared as he bolted forward, attempting to make-up for the precious seconds he had lost.

  He skidded to a halt next to the sobbing boy. The kid could no longer articulate his pleas for help and was only able to cry as he pushed against the debris on top of him. Karrel lifted with all his might, constantly checking on the descending umbrabat. It was only seconds away, its thin claws already outstretched and ready for the kill.

  A piece of rubble. A bent steel girder. A pile of heavy rocks. Karrel lifted each object off the boy. The umbrabat let out a shriek of pure bloodlust, and from the sound of it, Karrel could tell that death was approaching. He lifted a final piece of debris out of the way and snatched up the kid by the underarms. Karrel dove out of the way as a lightning fast blur shot past him, skidding along the ground before shooting back up into the air.

  Landing on his stomach and quickly popping himself back to his knees and feet, Karrel dashed for the nearest cover. The young boy was resting his head on Karrel’s back and had ceased his sobbing. The death grip that Karrel had on the kid’s arms was ensuring his safety.

  There was a warm, liquid sensation running down the side of Karrel’s waist and legs. Given how close the encounter had been, it was likely that he had been slashed by the diving umbrabat. If he was lucky, there would not be any permanent damage.

  However, with the sheer level of adrenaline burning through his veins, Karrel was unable to feel any of the pain. It was also helping with the kid, as the boy’s weight felt half as light as it should be. All that mattered now was getting inside of the broken house he was approaching.

  Karrel busted down the front door, which was miraculously still intact. He hopped behind the counter of the destroyed kitchen, and without looking, rested the young boy against the counter’s wall while he surveyed the area. Karrel could no longer see the umbrabat,
even though the building was ceilingless. He counted himself as lucky that the flying creature had not come down for another pass.

  Karrel ducked back behind the counter. He inspected his lower body. His waist and legs had been smothered in a crimson red liquid. He ran his fingers across them. He checked the shins and the calf muscles, his hamstrings, and even his glutes. There were no openings or wounds. Karrel could not find a scratch on his body.

  A sickening feeling shot through Karrel, and he felt his stomach acids curdle. He turned his gaze toward the motionless boy that was now resting his head along the back of the counter.

  Head. Arms. Chest. That was all that remained of the young human he had rescued. He was nonexistent from the waist down, and where his lower body should have been, all that remained was a pool of red blood.

  Karrel turned away from the corpse. He fell upon his hands and knees. What he was about to do was sacrilege to those who survived in the wastelands; it was a waste of time, resources, and energy. It didn’t matter. He no longer had the strength of will to hold it back. A burning sensation flowed up and out of his throat as Karrel vomited the entire contents of his stomach onto the floor.

  Chapter 13

  Questioning the Worth

  The sky brightened, lighting up with a heavy red hue flashing throughout it. Karrel stumbled along the destroyed street, wobbling from broken wall to busted bench. Peering up to the flare that was burning through the clouds, it became apparent that Dane was ready to bring the Sinwatch venture to a close.

  There was no one in sight. The loud popping sounds off in the distance had momentarily stopped. Karrel had started to head toward the southern end of the city, and it was obvious that much of the attack had now seeped from the northern sides into the south areas. This meant that Dane’s group would have their hands full with the evacuation. Hence, the red flare. Karrel didn’t care.