Ashlyn Chronicles 1: 2287 A.D.

by Glenn Van Dyke

  Though severely deprived of food, they remained vibrant and energetic, thanks to the Gifts.

  In the early evening on the twelfth night since their escape, they came to a stop atop a small dune. Before them, across a sea of dunes, sat the Great Pyramid, which dwarfed the one on Earth.

  The pyramid rose from the ground like a leviathan. Large as it was, it wasn’t until the middle of the second night when they reached the wall surrounding it that they truly appreciated its magnificence.

  As they crept along the base of the thirty-meter-high wall looking for an entrance, they were surprised to see no sign of guards or security.

  It was nearly two hours later, after having walked two kilometers along the second side, when they finally found an entrance.

  However, as they came to within meters of the massive gate, its large doors swung open. A group of eight humans exited in two single file lines, carrying two stretchers.

  I think they are carrying dead people, said Steven.

  He couldn’t help but wonder if one of them was Phillip.

  The group was dressed in small pieces of leather skins with strapped sandals on their feet. Crouching against the wall in shadowed darkness, they watched the small band head out into the desert.

  Just as they were entertaining the idea that they could perhaps sneak inside through the open gate, the gate’s doors swung closed.

  Umm—do you want to follow them? Ashlyn mentally whispered.

  Yeah, and why are you whispering in the meld?

  Whispering is sexy—so romantic, like spies discussing a secret mission. She scurried ahead into the shadows.

  Steven took off after her, admiring her verve and bravado, and to put it simply, her let’s-get-it-done attitude. He had to admit that hearing her whisper in the meld carried the same effect on him as feeling her warm breath on his neck. It was erotically sexy.

  Trailing the procession, hanging off to the right side, they used the rises and dips in the terrain to close their distance.

  Ashlyn noticed it first—she saw that the sky was getting brighter and that it glowed faintly orange. There was also a scent of smoke and decayed meat. Do you think that smell is from… asked Ashlyn.

  It is, affirmed Steven. It’s the same smell I remember a few days after the attack, when we went in search of survivors. The material lining of our armor reeked of it.

  The air grew thicker and more nauseating with each step—the sky growing ever brighter. Two kilometers further, the procession stopped at the edge of a ridge. With a coordinated heave, the group unceremoniously threw each of the encased bodies over the edge before simply turning around and heading back.

  What now? asked Ashlyn.

  Follow me. Running the last fifty meters to the edge, they looked down upon the graveyard of corpses. The orange-red glow that lit the night sky was caused by volcanic lava; the ground was pitted, cracked, and broken. Dozens of huffing and puffing fires spurted, bubbling noisily, slow-cooking the corpses that lay strewn on top of the soil nearby. It was as unsettling a sight as the odor was suffocating.

  “Gehenna,” said Steven. “The lake of fire and sulfur, where they are tormented day and night forever.”

  There was no need for Steven to say more—and Ash had no words to describe the horror of what was before her. It truly was Hell.

  “If we’re going to enter the city, we’ll need more clothes. Especially you, you’ll stand out like a rabbit thrown into a den of wolves,” said Steven. Not waiting for a reply, he unslung his pack.

  Steven knew that compared to the shriveled humans they’d seen thus far, her beauty and vitality were going to be a dead giveaway as to her recent arrival on this world. Although, to be fair, his own chiseled body was going to stand out almost as prominently.

  His eyes teared from the wafting, acrid smoke. “Wait here!” Steven hopped down, making the jump to the bottom, where the most recent bodies had been thrown. What he landed on crunched and softened under foot. It was gushy and his imagination nearly made him retch.

  The two they had just heaved over had landed near the top of the pile. Steven picked them out easily, for they were the only ones that were not covered in something akin to a wingless fly. It was the first insect life Steven had seen on Hades. Under the bright light of the three moons, the flies appeared almost as a single mass, fluidly moving around and over the tops of one another.

  Steven quickly unrolled the nearest casing. The body went tumbling down to the bottom of the pile as it spilled out of the wrapping. He did the same with the second. As unsettling as it was, he took relief in the fact that neither of them was Phillip—which had been much of his motivation to see who was inside.

  Clambering down the pile, each step brought a flood of nauseating sensations. The sounds of crunching bones, squirting fluids, and the squishing, oozing sound of pure mush all worked together to send intensely powerful images.

  Unfortunately, they were both males, one of which was far too thin to make his loin covering usable, but he assumed it might work for Ash. The other man was a bit more squat, rotund, and his would do nicely.

  Still in need of a bosom wrap for Ashlyn, Steven hurriedly opened two more swathed corpses before he found a female. Even then, he hesitated as he contemplated removing it. It sickened him to have to touch her badly bloated, gooey, decomposing body. The noxious fumes were a story unto themselves as the odor threatened to render him unconscious. Then came the knockout punch. Under the wrapping, a churning nest of white maggots squirmed in the cavities of what had once been the woman’s breasts.

  Shaking the wrapping out, hundreds of clinging maggots were sent flying into the air. The little fly creatures went wild as they jumped to feed upon the freshly exposed food of their own younger brethren. It was a gagging glimpse of a strange eco-system.

  Clambering back to the top, Steven found that it was a bit too far of a jump to the cliff’s rim. In lieu of a ladder, he gathered several of the newer corpses, forming a makeshift set of stairs. He had never in his wildest imagination believed he would be doing such a thing. When he heard the sound of snapping ribs beneath him, he leapt—just managing to catch Ashlyn’s outstretched hand. She helped him up.

  Back on top of the cliff, his stomach finally revolted and he retched, expelling bile and what little his stomach contained.

  “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.” Ashlyn took the wrap, barely managing to get the two ends to meet. “It’s not very big.” Ashlyn managed to tie a tiny knot, but the small size of the wrap had left much of the heavy underswells of her breasts exposed.

  “It’ll have to do. Let’s go,” said Steven.

  They started running to catch the returning group, slowing only as they came to within a few meters of them. They felt like a pair of overheated horses that were snorting and gasping for air.

  Thankfully, the people in front of them never turned in response. It wasn’t long before they were back at the wall. A wave from the hand of the lead man to some unseen custodian led to the gate being opened.

  Having entered through the gates, the small group of people swung left toward a small building, a barracks. Steven turned around to see that the gates were closing behind him, seemingly with no one operating them.

  Ash?

  I’m here.

  They must be watching us from somewhere. Let’s stay with the group. Seconds later, Steven was questioning that decision. Ash, do you see him?

  Yup, plain as the warts on his face. Up ahead, just outside the entrance to what looked like a barracks, stood one of the Grays. As the men started to file past him, each handed him an embossed piece of leather.

  It must be like a pass giving them permission to leave, said Ash in response to Steven’s unspoken thoughts. What do you want to do?

  We don’t have much of a choice. When I get to the door, I’ll walk by as though I forgot about my pass. I’ll take out any guards inside; you get the one by the door.

  Being subtle isn’t one of your strength
s, is it? quipped Ash.

  I’m just worried about Phillip. If we get caught, it means his life, replied Steven.

  The man in front of Steven handed his pass to the guard and stepped inside. Steven quickly stepped in as though he had absentmindedly forgotten the protocol.

  The next thing Steven knew he was staring at the ceiling, listening to Ashlyn ask him if he was all right.

  “Your place or mine?”

  “Yeah, you’re all right!” said Ashlyn.

  “What happened to me?”

  “The guard hit you. Somehow he knew before you got past him that you weren’t part of the group.”

  Without even needing to ask, Steven knew that she had killed the guard.

  Ashlyn stared at the people in the room. Their fear had forced them to back away; they cowered, huddled against the far wall, hiding their faces. “Does anyone speak English?” Ash asked. A few heads rose but immediately returned to look at the ground once more. From the rear of the crowd came a small girl with brown eyes and blonde hair pushing her way through the legs of those around her. Silently, she walked up and took Ashlyn’s hand. With her index finger, she beckoned Ashlyn to lean closer.

  “Have you seen my daddy?” she asked, whispering.

  Sorrow instantly welled in Steven and Ashlyn’s heart. “How old are you, sweetheart?” Ash softly asked her.

  “Seven,” her plaintive voice replied.

  “Were you born here?” asked Ashlyn.

  The little girl nodded.

  “Your father—was he from Earth?”

  Again, she nodded.

  “Where’s your mother?”

  “Daddy said she’s in heaven.”

  A tear welled in Ashlyn’s eyes. “And what happened to your father?” asked Ashlyn.

  “They took him.”

  “Why?” asked Ashlyn.

  “He killed a guard when they came to take me.”

  “Well, we’ll help you look for him,” said Ash, as she pulled her close. “Ok?”

  “I miss him.” Her eyes filled with tears.

  “I’m sure he misses you too!” said Ashlyn. The little girl nodded.

  Ashlyn said silently to Steven, He’s dead.

  I know. The innocence and heartbreak of the child made them hate Enlil that much more.

  “Does anyone else speak English?” Steven asked.

  “Not here, no one ever speaks here.”

  “Why?” Steven questioned.

  “Because he listens,” she said, alluding to the walls.

  “Enlil?”

  With eyes that went wide with terror, her grip around Ashlyn tightening, she nodded.

  In her arms, she held a small wooden doll tightly to her chest. “Did your father make that for you?” asked Ashlyn.

  “Yeah, he said it looked like Mommy and whenever I held it, Mommy would know I loved her. Is my mommy safe in heaven?”

  “Yes, your mommy is safe in heaven.”

  Steven leaned close and hugged both her and Ashlyn. The tears that she had held back since her father’s disappearance began to flow. “It’s all right; we’ll take care of you. I promise.”

  “My daddy”—through her sniffles and broken cries—“used to say that.”

  “Sweetheart, what’s your name?” asked Ashlyn.

  “Christie.”

  “That’s a very pretty name!” said Ash. “Christie, you said before that no one speaks English, here. Is there someone, somewhere else that does speak English?” Ash proceeded to ask.

  “Yes, but I don’t see him much.”

  “Where does he stay?”

  “I’ve only seen him by the fountain.”

  “Can you help us find him, let him know we’d like to talk to him?”

  She nodded. “How come I haven’t seen you before?” Christie asked Ashlyn.

  “We just got here. We’re from Earth,” said Steven.

  “Daddy said Enlil hates Earth.”

  “When did you see your daddy last?” Steven asked.

  “Two horns ago.”

  “Two horns?” asked Ashlyn.

  “Uh-huh—they blow a horn each day, when it’s time for us to get a drink,” said Christie.

  Ash then turned to Christie. “So it was two days ago that they took your father?” affirmed Steven.

  Christie nodded.

  “Do you know why the guards were coming to get you that day?” Steven asked. The girl’s eyes tightened in pain.

  “It’s all right,” Ash assured Christie. “It’s in the past now.” Steven’s fist clenched. His hatred for Enlil seethed, his blood boiled, and he could only assume that Phillip was already dead.

  Ash?

  I’m sorry, I don’t sense him. I’ve been trying.

  Steven swallowed past the lump in his throat, his sadness overwhelming. Turning, he led Ash and Christie toward an empty corner behind them. They were desperately in need of rest. As the people in the room saw that Steven and Ashlyn were settling in for the night, Christie between them, they grew less fearful and slowly went to their beds scattered around the room on the floor.

  Driven by starvation, Ashlyn asked Christie if she knew where they could get some food. Nodding, Christie quietly rose and walked over to an old woman squatting on her bed. She uttered a few unknown words. The woman reached into a bag cradled in her lap and pulled out a bundled cloth. Christie returned with the cloth, and when Ashlyn opened it she found a thick slab of cooked fish.

  “Kua,” Christie called it. Nodding to the woman, they offered thanks. It smelled great. Their mouths watered. They found it to be slightly moist and entirely satisfying.

  Reaching into his pack, Steven pulled out the small water-gourd. After giving Christie a drink, he told her to take it to the old woman who had shared her fish. In return, the old woman smiled thankfully, showing a near toothless but nevertheless radiant smile.

  Steven and Ashlyn both slept soundly until early morning when a security detail of six guards burst into the room. At gunpoint, the forty or so sleeping people in the room were motioned to proceed outside.

  Steven, maybe we should make a stand now. If they find the dead guard hidden under the bedding they’ll kill everyone in here.

  Steven shook his head. For Phillip’s sake, if he’s still alive, I can’t chance dying in a gun battle. Besides, I want to meet Enlil. He’s the one giving the orders. Ash, I should tell you. If I can, I’m going to blast the bastard’s head off.

  I know.

  Leave the bandolier. Keep the rifle. If you’re right, we might need it, said Steven. Hidden behind the crowd of rising people, they grabbed a couple of the larger sash-style outer garments lying around the room and wrapped them around themselves, hiding the stubby rifle underneath. Within moments, they followed the others outside. The twin suns were just beginning to rise above the wall on the eastern horizon, the marble-white courtyard swathed deep in the shadow of the pyramid. To the sound of cracking whips, everyone in the hundreds of barracks that lined the inside of the perimeter wall were marched into the large square, each group kept separate from the others.

  In the middle was a very elaborate and enormous dry fountain.

  In prison fashion, the parapets along the top of the wall were lined with watchful armed guards.

  The pyramid, like a grand centerpiece, challenged the imagination. Nothing on Earth came close to it in size or majesty. Each of its four sides was a kilometer in length, its pinnacle, nearly a full kilometer above them. Though its size was impressive, it paled in comparison to the pyramid’s entrance. The pyramid was really two structures in one, part pyramid and part palace.

  Wrapped around the lower portion of the pyramid’s base was the statuesque body of a solid gold cobra. It was coiled around the structure as if it were protecting it. The cobra’s flared, hooded head rose high above the coils, forming the entrance into the pyramid. Deep within the cobra’s mouth sat a colossal set of doors that led to the interior. The cobra’s fangs concealed hidden support columns
that bore the weight of the heavy upper jaw.

  Bearing witness to the genius behind the design, the cobra’s forked tongue doubled as a long ramp that led from the ground and up into the cobra’s mouth. The sun sparkled off the cobra’s ruby red eyes, setting them ablaze.

  The structure robbed Steven’s mind of comprehension and stole his breath.

  About forty male human guards, large and muscular, were stretched around the length of the lower jaw, looking like a row of teeth.

  I’d bet they’re the Elite Guard, Enlil’s new, pure Anunnaki, thought Steven, sure of his conjecture.

  Each of them wore a heavy, armored helmet, ornately sculpted of silver, and held a long rifle with a sickle-like blade for a stock.

  Steven, I think that’s where they were keeping Phillip, said Ashlyn as she stared at the massive structure.

  Anything? Do you sense him at all?

  Ash shook her head. I thought I’d feel something if we were this close. Her eyes portrayed her sadness.

  A shout came from inside their barracks behind them. They had found the body of the dead guard.

  A lash broke across Steven’s back, rousing him to the fact that his group had been ordered to move forward. When Steven turned resentfully toward the lashing guard, half a dozen guards raised their weapons, prepared to fire if he made the slightest move.

  Moved to the center of the courtyard, those in Steven’s group were now the focal point of attention.

  “Kar er-im,” came the shout from a guard exiting their barracks. Dozens of nearby guards came running, encircling the group. They were ordered to strip down.

  The eyes of everyone in the courtyard stared at them, wondering what they had done wrong to deserve such scrutiny.

  Hide your rifle in your clothes, I’ll draw their attention. Steven took a few steps forward, approaching the nearest guard. Looking him square in the eyes, even as the guard’s weapon came to bear on his chest, Steven slowly removed his outer garment, revealing the rifle he held beneath—moving slowly, non-threateningly, he dropped the small rifle to the ground, on top of the clothing.

  “Looks like you caught me! I did it! But to tell you the truth, anything that smells that bad should be put out of its misery!”