by D. N. Leo
Lyla sat down on the stool. Something in Gale had definitely changed in the direction she feared.
Gale continued, “Then my deputy was attacked by the Shadow, and my station blew up.”
“How do you know it was the Shadow?” Michael asked.
“Because it killed just like it killed the ones from Xiilok that the two of you brought to the Daimon Gate. I was almost one of the casualties. There was barely enough time for me to jump out of the station and dive into the stream. I don’t remember much after that. Just brief flashes of images that make no sense. I went home…I packed my gear. And the next thing I knew, I woke up in the hotel where I had sent the two of you. Then I tracked Lyla here.”
“You bugged me?”
“No, no…well, yes… I mean, it was just a small bug on your right shoe. Look, I sent you on a mission, I needed to know where you were even when the official communication channel was off. How else would I have been able to find you in the warehouse?”
Lyla glared at Gale and looked at her right shoe. She reached down and stood up with a device the size of a pea in her hand. She frowned. “It’s broken, Gale.”
Gale approached her. “How is that possible? How could I track you without it?”
Michael chuckled. “Witchcraft,” he said.
“You’re a believer, Michael?” she asked.
“It’s not a matter of believing. It’s a matter of having an explanation for what’s happening in the multiverse. Nothing surprises me anymore.”
She heard the low hum of chanting in the air. Gale and Michael weren’t reacting at all to the sound, so she must be the only one who could hear it. She shook her head to clear it.
“It’s too confined in here. Let’s go outside,” Michael said and walked out the door. Gale followed. She was reluctant but trailed after him. Thousands of questions flooded her mind without a single answer. She didn’t have her mother’s psychic ability, but there was one thing she could feel now—both Michael and Gale were in trouble.
When they got to the middle of the village, the man who had helped them approached. Before he could say a word, someone in the crowd shouted and pointed toward the end of the village road.
They looked.
At the far end of the road stood a stunning woman with long white hair, fair skin, and striking green eyes. Lyla recognized her at once as one of the three women who had been floating in the air after the car crash.
“Jaxper…” she heard Michael mutter under his breath.
The village men shouted louder. They grabbed whatever weapons they had at hand and charged at the woman.
The man who had helped them translated. “They’re saying she’s a witch,” he said. “They want to burn her.” Then he rushed away, following the crowd.
The woman turned and drifted off into the bush.
“Stay right here, both of you. Gale, it’s your job to keep an eye on her.” Michael thrust the gun and a knife into Gale’s hands. “Promise me you’ll stay here, Lyla?”
She nodded.
“Tell me you promise you will stay in the village.”
“I promise.”
He nodded then rushed away. Before catching up with the village men, he veered away and took his own route into the bush.
Lyla limped to follow.
“But Lyla, you just promised—”
“I promised to stay in the village. And I’m more than sure the village owns that land. So technically I am staying in the village. I didn’t promise not to go into the bush.”
“Lyla!”
“Yes, Gale? Are you going to help me walk or not?”
“I can carry you piggyback.”
“No.”
“Wait here,” Gale said and rushed toward an animal that was hooked up to a cart and tied to a tree. She limped to follow him.
“Wait here is obviously not a word in your dictionary.”
“That’s two words.”
“Whatever,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Listen, I designed a game, but before I did, I researched Earth animals I could use to feed the dragon in the game. I’m pretty sure this is a donkey and can be used as a means of transportation. Now hop on.” Gale helped her up on the cart. She hung onto the cart’s handle.
Gale went to the front of the cart then ducked down and looked under the donkey.
“What are you doing?” asked Lyla.
“I’d like to address it correctly.” He stood back up. “All right, donkey, I know I’m not your master, and you’re not required to serve me, but be a man, and take this lady into the bush.”
She knew Gale meant well, but what he said certainly didn’t come out right. She stifled a laugh.
The donkey just stared at him.
“Mr. Donkey might not speak English, Gale.”
“I have no time for negotiation,” he muttered and pulled out a thumb-sized device.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to encourage him to move forward with enthusiasm.” He used the device to give the donkey a little prick behind the ear.
The animal made a rumbling noise and started to gallop. Gale hopped onto the cart with Lyla. “Now he thinks he’s a horse!” Gale said.
Chapter Seventeen
“That’s enough. Stop running, Jaxper.” Michael stopped after having chased the young woman for a while. The bush was getting thicker, and he wasn’t getting any closer to her. If he kept running, he would soon be lost.
He was surrounded by a thick tropical forest with giant trees and thick, small shrubs. Growing up as a street kid, he had seen many odd things, and as commander-in-chief of border security in Iilos, an outlier in the multiverse, he had been to some of the strangest places. But none of them compared to the strangeness of this forest.
It wasn’t just the unusual trees that weirded him out. There was something in the air—an aura, a spirit, or maybe even a stalking space creature. Something was wrong, but it was an intriguing feeling…and it was familiar.
Jaxper stopped running. She turned around and smiled at him.
“I just want to talk to you. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said quickly before she changed her mind and ran away again.
“Do I look scared, Michael?”
“Are you saying you lured me here?” he asked. “Should I be worried?”
“You know you aren’t spooked so easily. I know you have questions for me. I’m not sure I have all the answers. However, I do have some questions for you as well. So let’s say we just exchange some information.”
Michael shrugged. “All right. I’ll ask first.”
Jaxper smiled. “Naturally. I wouldn’t expect any less of you.”
“When we were in the shed, you said I am the One. What did you mean by that?”
Jaxper smiled. “No beating around the bush for Michael,” she said and sat down on a stone slab covered with leaves and weeds. “I was raised a witch. My mother and my aunt are witches. Not only are we witches, we’re also a special kind of witch. How special, and what kind, I don’t really know. I just know we were created for a reason, and my mother has always told me that when we find the One, we will be freed.”
“But you’re free now—you’re not in the shed anymore. And I wasn’t exactly the one who gave you your freedom.”
“No, Michael, by free, I mean spiritual freedom.”
Michael chuckled. “Now I’m very sure I’m not the One, because I can’t give anyone spiritual freedom. I don’t even know what that is. So you got that part wrong. My next question is—”
“It’s my turn, isn’t it?”
“Alright, sorry. Ask away.”
“Have you ever used your dark power? I can see it in you. But I can also see that it’s intact. Unused. It’s so pure!” She stepped closer, looking into his eyes. She was so close he could smell the strange floral scent of her skin.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Apart from some insignificant alien strength, I don’t think I have any dark power. And
just an observation, a combination of both dark power and purity sounds pretty illogical.”
Jaxper smiled. “Oh, this is far beyond the realm of rationality, Michael. Your power is pure. The darkness is in your mind.” She walked around him like a wild cat circling its prey.
Michael shrugged. “The short answer to your question is that I don’t know—I don’t know that I have any power. As far as the darkness in my mind is concerned, you got it right. I don’t care for it, but it’s there. But it’s only thoughts—it can’t harm anyone.”
She stared at him. “Are you sure?”
“Maybe not, but I really don’t want to talk about it. All I need to know is whether my shit could harm Lyla. I need to get her safely to the North so she can do whatever she needs to do. Then I’ll take her home.”
“It’s not that simple…”
“Yes, it is. You seem to know about this magical stuff. So tell me, whatever you see in me—whether I’m what you call the One or not—would it stop me from keeping Lyla safe?”
“If I tell you, I want a deal.”
“All right, let’s hear it. What do you want in return for this bit of info?”
“You owe me a favor, and I want you to act on it when I call on you.”
“What sort of favor?”
“There’s no point in asking you to do things you’re not capable of.”
“What is it?”
“I can’t tell you now.”
“So you’re saying you want a blank check?”
Jaxper laughed. “You could say that. I know what a fair deal looks like. The information you get from me could save Lyla’s life.”
“So you’re saying that whatever is happening to me could harm Lyla…” Michael could hear his voice raising and calmed himself down quickly. “It’s a simple question, Jaxper, and I need a simple answer. The stuff that’s happening to me, is this because some asshole in the multiverse wants to get to Lyla and her family?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “Okay, so tell me how to solve this, and you’ll have your blank check.”
Jaxper nodded and smiled at him. Before she said anything, however, the smile vanished from her face. Michael reacted instantly and ducked. A giant flying snake zoomed past his left shoulder, dropping to the ground when it missed him. Michael pulled his dagger out instantly, and before the snake slithered away, he hacked it into several pieces. Black blood spattered everywhere.
Jaxper scrambled to the ground, grabbed a small tree branch, and drew a circle around them.
Michael heard a wave of hisses and then rumbling noises as if an army of devils was chanting strange songs from hell. Not that he had ever been to hell, but whatever was coming at them couldn’t be earthly, and it was definitely not of the multiverse.
“Run!” He grabbed Jaxper’s arm as she closed the circle on the ground.
“Not outside this circle,” she said and shrugged off his hold.
“I can fight one on one, Jaxper, but there’s no guarantee I can protect you from what sounds like hell’s army coming at us. Let’s go.”
“Run back to the village yourself if you want. But I can’t guarantee you’ll survive outside this circle, Michael. And you’re right, it is an army from hell.”
“What if it attacks people in the village? Who’s going to protect them?”
Jaxper stepped toward the middle of the circle. She pulled Michael toward her as he was standing much too close to the line. “Your only concern is Lyla,” she said. “The village has it coming because they rejected us. Only the witches can protect them now.”
But Lyla was in the village. “Hell,” Michael said and charged outside the circle, running toward the village. He took only five steps before an army of creatures emerged from the mist—but the word creature might be too kind for them. They made even zombies seem mild-mannered and manageable.
A couple of them at the front stood on two legs. They looked like lizard skeletons with wolf heads. Some had snake bodies, so there were no limbs involved. The rest were on all fours. It was as if some devil from hell had gathered leftover parts of all the creatures in hell’s cemeteries, then put those bits and pieces together.
Michael skidded to a halt when the strange army of things blocked his path. A tiny dragon with a crooked tail, reaching only to his knees, roared and spat out a small stream of fire. Then it charged at him. Michael grabbed its neck and stabbed it. It let out a howl and crumbled into a pile of bones. The momentum of the attack pushed Michael back. He felt a pull as Jaxper yanked him back into the safety of the circle.
Larger creatures in the second row realized what Jaxper was doing, and they charged at the circle.
But it was as if they crashed into an invisible wall.
They roared. Howled. Barked. Then all hell broke loose. Literally. The whole army charged at the invisible wall Jaxper had built around them. Michael could see them as they crashed on impact. But the wall didn’t kill them. More of them came, and they piled one on top of another.
Jaxper picked up a couple of leaves from the ground inside the circle, put them against her lips, and blew out some strange sound.
“How long will this wall last?” he asked.
“Not long. I’m calling my mother.” She blew harder, trying to make a louder sound, but it didn’t seem to break through the noise made by the creatures.
Michael could see fear in her eyes.
“They’re too strong, Michael. And there are more than I thought. You have to use your power. Otherwise, we’re done here.”
Michael held up his dagger, and Jaxper glared at him.
“Even with machine guns,” said Michael, “there’s no way we can take them all down before they eat us alive, Jaxper. I’ll lure them away from you. They’ll come for me. You’ll be fine.”
“They’ve come for us, Michael. Our fates are tied together. You have to use your power, or we’ll die here.”
“What power?” he asked. “I don’t know of any power.”
They felt a blast of pressure in the air, and a creature fell inside the circle. Michael pulled it further inside and stabbed it. Jaxper covered the broken line with another drawing.
“It cracked the wall. We won’t last long, Michael.”
The creatures kept hurling themselves against the wall, pounding against it.
Michael could feel the ground shake.
He closed his eyes. Power. What sort of power? How could he wield any power?
The charm on his necklace vibrated and heated up. What had his mom said before?
“Michael! Kill them, Michael!” Jaxper’s voice came to him from a distance.
“Burn them, Michael,” a deep male voice whispered in his mind.
“Who’s that? Burn them? How?”
“They’ve broken in, Michael!” Jaxper shouted.
Michael opened his eyes and saw the wall of flesh, bones, claws, and fangs closing in.
Burn! All of you! Burn to hell! he thought.
In front of him, there was a dusty white explosion, spreading out in a flash. Then he saw nothing else.
Chapter Eighteen
Vietnam, tropical forest, 1968
* * *
He was lying on his back on the cold, muddy ground, a chilly mist whirling up around him to hover in the air. He stared into the jungle. Through the small gaps between the tree branches and leaves above him, he caught glimpses of dry rock, pointing straight up to the sky. The chopper must have crashed somewhere in the endless tropical forest below the Hai Van Pass, he thought.
The mysterious forest and the eerie surroundings challenged him and seemed to be waiting for him to show a sign of weakness or fear. Everyone feared death. Including him. But showing fear was a matter of choice, and as a US Marine, it just wasn’t an option.
He remembered the crash. But he didn’t know why they’d crashed because they hadn’t been shot. But he’d felt an explosion and the impact of the hit. Hai Van Pass was a notorious crash site. Only fifty feet away
lay the bodies of more Marines. He didn’t need to look to know.
He couldn’t simply accept dying like this. He had lain here for two days—maybe more. If he had to die, he would walk out there to the battlefront and die in action. With what felt like the last drop of his energy, he made himself sit up. He wanted to get back to Hue where the siege was occurring. He could feel heat and pain where bullets had scraped his skin and bone. He remembered how every fiber in his body had vibrated harshly with the nearby explosion. His friends were out there. He wanted to be with them.
Apart from sitting up, he couldn’t do anything else. His body failed him. He flopped back down to the jungle floor.
The faint sound of movement startled him. It amazed him that while his body was numb with pain, his senses remained sharp. He felt around the ground, hoping to find his weapon or anything he could use as one. Nothing.
From the corner of his eye, he saw the thick branches of a small bush being pushed apart. He saw a pair of hands. He could accept dying from his injuries, or even being eaten by wild animals, but being captured by the opponent was the last thing he wanted. His body wouldn’t let him fight now, so he closed his eyes and waited.
He heard female voices speaking softly in Vietnamese. Gentle hands checked for his pulse and examined his injuries. Then he was lifted and carried away.
He had blacked out for a while, but a splash of warm water woke him. Someone was washing his injuries and bandaging them. He felt the warmth of a fire but couldn’t smell the usual scent of burning wood. He opened his eyes and saw a beautiful face looking down at him. She was a young woman, maybe in her twenties, with long dark hair and big brown eyes. She smiled at him. Her smile was so innocent. It pained him to see it, knowing the current wartime situation.
He’d been captured by the enemy. Not only were they beautiful young women, but they had also tended to his injuries.
She said something in Vietnamese, but he didn’t understand. Two other women came near, and a boy of about ten. They looked happy. They smiled, talked to him. He knew they didn’t expect him to understand. The boy grabbed his hand, said something, and then grinned. They seemed happy he was awake.