Blackjack Villain

by Ben Bequer

  “You don’t have to do this.”

  “I know,” I said, and ran off.

  “You’ll get yourself killed!” she yelled, but I was well on my way, limping towards a nearby rocky outcropping, high enough that the enemy commander could see me. I climbed up and unleashed the bow. It was as painful releasing as it was wrapping itself into my arm.

  They were already in range, and in fact, their archers went to work on me, shooting arrows and quarrels at me. One thing I noticed was that the army was coming for me, all of them. They were unconcerned with the others.

  For now.

  It was a strange, idyllic moment, standing atop the rocky outcrop and watching the approaching mass of raging warriors. I had a moment to take in the alien landscape, the low rolling hill down to the open fields beyond, pristine save for the massive dark scar where the behemoth had torn through the earth, the swirling saturnine skies that surrounded the shattered planet, and the irenic tower of silver and gold that seemed to glower over the rest of this world. I had so many questions about who these ‘Lightbringers’ were, why they had created this place, and most importantly, what their intentions were for Earth.

  But now was no time to sightsee. The closest edges of the rushing formation were within my range, and now I was going to give them reason to remember this day. Those that would survive would recall the dark man raining fire and death from the sky. I dug into my arrow bag for the heavy hitters, the high-explosive arrows, my grubby blood-stained fingers feeling the tell-tale notches on my arrow shafts, braille-like markings that allowed me to quickly identify one arrow from another in the middle of a fight.

  I found the HE row, nestled along the back of my arrow bag, and drew the first one, setting the nock on the string, wrapping the index and middle finger of my left hand around the string, and drawing back, then firing in one smooth motion. There was no time to aim, nor to care, I was firing for a spot, not a particular man in a formation, and the arrow soared through the sky, its aim true. Without pause I drew the next arrow and sent it after the first, then another and another until all six of the HE arrows shared their parabolic arc, each to land a few dozen yards beside his brother. The ground shook where each of the arrows struck, blowing tons of rock and dirt into the air, and the dismembered bodies of my enemy, and cutting down the entire first few ranks of the massed formation. After that, the incoming army was in disarray, almost half their number dropped in one volley. I looked back where Haha and the others were and saw Cool and Haha struggling to wrap Apogee in her harness.

  Of my remaining power arrows the strongest were two concussion arrows. I used them against two nearing worm riders, and to my surprise, the concussion effect basically pulped the worms and riders, bursting them into a fleshy discharge.

  Next were a dozen fragmentation grenade arrowheads. They were smaller devices than the HE, designed to be for anti-personnel, but one last cavalry rider was coming too close, so I brought down his mount with a well-placed arrow that exploded the creature’s face. The rest of them, I aimed towards larger concentrations of enemies, devastating small clusters of soldiers coming towards me, saving the last for the commander, catching him as he trudged through one of the gaping holes caused by the HE arrows. The arrow exploded a few feet from him, stitching him from head to toe with thousands of tiny metal shards that killed him and his closest warriors.

  A dozen yards from me, one of the worm riders struggled to his feet, covered in worm goo. When he saw how close I stood, he charged at me and I was forced to fire a normal arrow at him. It impaled him in the chest and dropping him dead at the base of my rock.

  My remaining arrows were more trick ones than anything, but two were sleeping gas, so I fired those at other clusters of soldiers. Two more were lachrymatory, and I fired those at the ground between me and the nearest soldiers.

  They were close now. Some bloodied, others badly injured, but mass of soldiers was inching closer and closer. I had whittled their number down considerably, and many that were standing were dazed from explosions, or walking dead with wounds that would soon kill them. Still they came, the few remaining horsemen sitting back barking orders at the onrushing foot soldiers. Several archers fired at me with bows and crossbows.

  I fired a sound explosion arrow at a trio of soldiers that were dangerously close, dropping them to the ground in screaming agony as blood seeped from their ears. Then I shot my last goop arrow, gluing a pair of soldiers to each other, and to the rocky ground, leaving them immobilized.

  I had a dozen or so normal barbed arrows left, and took my time dropping the soldiers closest to my vantage point. But they were so many.

  Far too many.

  My arms were tired and sore, and I was starting to feel the pain from an arrow jutting from my knee, but I fired and fired.

  Soldiers dropped from arrows that stuck from their heads and chests, but still more trudged towards me up the hill and to my rocky castle. Now they were coming in groups of dozens, swarming around my rocky base, readying weapons and jostling with each other for the honor of the kill.

  They took cover behind rocky outcroppings, timing my shots, but still I fired.

  I shot a final glance back at the device, and saw Haha alone. Apparently, the others had made it safely across. He waved at me and I nodded back. He understood there was no way I was going to make it to him injured as I was. Haha engaged the device and sped across the chasm towards the safety of the other island.

  And then I was alone. It was silent then, despite the raging of aliens near me, despite the arrows and quarrels bouncing near and around me. It was an odd feeling, being only aware of my breathing, of the throbbing at my temples, of the icky dripping of blood from my leg wounds.

  I picked up a damaged arrow on the floor and fired, killing a soldier that rose before me, rearing back an axe to take out my legs. The arrow had so much force than it flew through his body and into that of the nearest man behind him. I scanned the ground for more errant missiles I could use, but every arrow near me was shattered or broken. One stuck out of my thigh, and I pulled it, hoping the head wouldn’t be barbed and fired at the next nearest soldier.

  In my arrow bag were two arrows. One, the last barbed-head, the other, the headless shaft, who’s payload had been The Nuke. The deadly arrow head still resided in one of my pockets and for a second, I thought of slipping it on and firing at the base of my outcrop, going out in a maelstrom of fire. But I had no time, even to dig the head out of my pocket and engage it by hand.

  And besides, I wasn’t done. Not by a damn minute.

  The last remaining manta rider flew past me barking orders at the surrounding mass of soldiers. He was the remaining lord that had seen me kill Dethregas. I recognized him from the distinctive armor he wore. It was as marvelous as his dead companions, but no two were the same.

  Below me a pig-grilla soldier was at my feet, and I fired the last broad head arrow into his face. He grasped his mortal wound and reeled backwards. I slammed my boot down on his chest and sent his body into a few others that were clambering up the rock.

  And that was it.

  I drew my last arrow, the headless shaft, and fired it up into the sky, feeling hands, tentacles and claws grasping at me, dragging me down from my perch. I fell without any grace to my feet, but I grabbed one of the soldiers, a multi-legged sort with strange chitinous armor, and swung him like a weapon. Unfortunately, he burst into a few pieces with one blow and they were all upon me. It was too close to swing weapons, but their hands and claws tore at me, their fangs and teeth scowled with alien threats.

  The bow collapsed on my arm and with the jutting spike I punched one of their faces, feeling the bone structure collapse under my blow, and swung an elbow onto another, almost decapitating the fellow.

  But they were too many, too angered, for me to do much more than beat the odd one that got in front of me. My hands were soon pinned behind me, held by dozens of strong arms, and I felt a few grabbing me by legs, trying to lift me int
o the air.

  Then a blow came past my face, into the head of one of the lead pig-grillas, and there was a thump-like explosion of purplish power that tore through that man and several others beside him, clearing my whole side.

  I looked back and saw Apogee, slamming her rapid fire fists at another one, turning his face into a bloody pulp of bone and blood.

  “No!” I screamed.

  What the hell was she doing here? All of this had been to give her time to get away and now she was here, in the middle of this shit. I felt a blood-curling rage well within me, a horrible, tooth-grinding anger, like a wave of cold water washing over me as I saw her take a blow, then another. An enemy punched at me, slamming the hilt of his weapon in my face but I felt nothing, and my roaring blow impacted him so hard he flew fifty feet in the air. Another grabbed my arm and I picked him up and threw him into several of his friends, so forcefully, their bodies were dismembered by the impact.

  “No!” I screamed, feeling tears streaming from my face as more joined the fight.

  Apogee said nothing, unleashing her powers with horrifying effectiveness, but she was being swarmed, and channeled away from me. I tried moving in her direction but turning away from some meant giving them a clear target, and before I knew it, I couldn’t even see her.

  “No!”

  I grabbed one by the leg, using his body as a weapon, and felt a tug as his torso separated at the hip. Wielding his leg as a weapon, I went to work, dropping one, then another enemy before the stump broke off at the ankle, useless.

  At my feet were several dozen Mist Army soldiers, dead or dying, but more and more came, and the struggle was hopeless. More hopeless because it was wasted, now that Apogee would also die.

  I released myself to the blinding rage and I fought on, punching in every direction, kicking at every new enemy, fighting with my last remaining breath. The bodies of the dead were now in my way, making me stumble and fall.

  “Apogee!” I shouted, turning and picking up an injured soldier, hurling him a hundred feet in a random direction.

  But they had channeled me back towards my rocky vantage point that had served me so well to fire the arrows. I felt something hit me from above as several soldiers dropped atop of me. I lost my footing, feeling the ropes forced on me, pressing me back into the rock. I put my foot onto the rock and pushed back, my strength alone pressing a hundred soldiers on their heels.

  I swung with my right, but the arm was pinned, so I threw my left, crashing my first into the skull of a soldier, exploding his head into blood, bone and brain.

  Then I saw them lift up Apogee, her body battered and bloodied.

  She looked dead.

  “No!” I yelled and lost all control.

  My pinned arm came free, and I grabbed back, picking up one of the solders and slamming my head into his. The front of his skull gave way with a loud crack and he fell dead. Another’s arm came around my shoulders and I bit into it, drawing an explosion blood across my face as I tore half his bicep off the bone. The soldier recoiled, nursing his bleeding arm, and I rushed him, grabbing his head and biting into his throat, ripping off the blood-spilling cartilage and spitting it back into his dying face. I felt several soldiers scrambling beneath me, grabbing at my feet and I stomped on one, feeling him go limp.

  My upper body was overwhelmed with the sheer mass of enemy soldiers, but my rage would not be swayed. I kicked the soldier in front of me, crushing his chest, then slammed myself into another, dropping my shoulders to tackle him.

  A small room opened up and I grabbed the soldier I had knocked down and threw him at his mates, but more jumped atop of me. It was like a tsunami of flesh and I was completely overcome, and all I could do was roar in anger and move the pile of bodies a few feet in each direction. Now immobilized, I felt metal chains, tying at me, tearing into my skin as the soldiers worked to permanently restrain me.

  I struggled one last time, lifting the whole throng off the ground a few inches, but was rewarded with sharp blows to my face and groin.

  Once I had given up, a loud cry of victory rose as the different aliens roared, squelched and wheezed in success. The mass of bodies opened up before me up and though I tried moving forward, I was held back by several dozen soldiers manning the chains, now crisscrossing my whole body. I heard a scream behind me, and a few grunts and several soldiers pulled back on the ropes on my legs, bringing me down to my knees.

  Ahead, the last remaining manta rider had dismounted and walked towards me, striding over the bloody, muddy ground where I had just fought. He walked up to me and flinched when I fought the chains, trying in vain to rush him.

  “Brackshock,” he said, butchering my name.

  I figured the killing blow would come any second now. This was how he would become the leader of what remained of his army. Killer of Blackjack, now Lord of the Mist Army. I tried to get another glance at Apogee, but they had carried her off. She was beyond my sight.

  The lord tried speaking to me in his weird tongue, but I couldn’t understand him, and before I knew it, I started weeping.

  I suppose I should have been brave, stood my ground, spat at him, and taken the killing blow like a man. Like a warrior.

  In fact, I had destroyed the Mist Army virtually by myself. What remained was now a threat to no one, a few hundred scattered about here and there. Even the villagers would send them off in defeat with what few warriors they had remaining.

  But at that moment, bloodied and beaten, surrounded by my vanquishers, I wasn’t proud of anything.

  I had wanted to save Apogee. It was the only reason for any of this, for all of this. To do one decent thing in my life and save the one person in the world that had believed in me, the one person in the world who cared for me.

  But even in that, I had failed.

  In fact, as I looked back on my life, I realized that I had failed at everything I had ever tried to do. I had ruined my life and now Apogee’s as well, but even before that, I had accomplished nothing, done nothing worth remembering. Sure, I had made some money but what did that mean now?

  In fact, I was a failure and a joke.

  I was nothing.

  Chapter 21

  What followed was a blur.

  They carried me along, at first trudging on foot, then later on a hover vehicle, and brought me to the remains of their camp.

  Their battleship was a smoky hulk, torn asunder by my mighty behemoth, of which there was no sign whatsoever. Around it was a hellish scene, bodies and parts of aliens strewn all over, flames crackling to black caustic smoke, injured soldiers screaming for aid. Surviving soldiers yelled, running every which way, in absolute chaos. Commanders fought to control panicked troops, trying to establish a new pecking order.

  As I came amongst them, most stopped what they were doing and watched me, the warrior that had defeated them all. A strange silence came over the camp, where only minutes before the promise of battle was squashed by the charge of a great beast. These soldiers were hungry for a fight, astonished that their hopes for war ended so swiftly. And now, as they carried me into the camp, the face of their enemy became ever clearer.

  One of them started it, a maniacal yelping howl, but soon the whole camp joined, rejoicing in their pyrrhic victory as I was led to a huge piece of still smoking, twisted metal and tied to it like an ox yoke. It was heavy, probably weighing a few tons. Unwilling to show weakness, I roared, hefting the whole thing on my shoulders and stood, looking at my captors with a smile.

  “Now what?” I yelled, but was rewarded with more of the yelling. They saw a prisoner, a defeated enemy led away in chains, and that was reward enough for a day’s work.

  The manta rider approached overhead, landing nearby and ordered me loaded into one of the smaller ships that managed to escape the behemoth’s wrath. The cargo hold of the vehicle they threw me into was dark, the floor wet and slippery, but I slowed my pace, despite the prodding of a few solders tasked with my detention. There was no place to sit, so
I stood, carrying my burden without complaint. One of the soldiers was a pigrilla thing I had fought so often today. He watched me with a scowl, beating a club on his free hand as if taunting me to try something.

  “So what’s your name, eh?” I asked him, startling and making him jump. It didn’t make him happy to show fear, so he hit me with the club once over the head. In the cargo hold were a dozen of the toughest, meanest fellows I had faced so far. They all closed around me, looking for trouble, taunting me in their strange, wheezing language.

  “Any of you guys have a cigarette you can spare?”

  I was rewarded with my humor with another thump on the head, and the combined laughter of the soldiers. But there was something in their merriment that I caught.

  Was it fear?

  “You hit me again, shit-for-brains, I’m going to eat your heart,” I roared, again scaring the soldier, and again getting another blow to the head for my effort.

  But I responded.

  Two minutes later, roughly, the vehicle landed, and the cargo door opened to a bright landing pad. There were many more warriors, of all manner of species. My friend, the manta rider was there as well, apparently now commander of the whole Mist Army.

  They all regarded me with surprise and shock.

  I was covered with the blood, bones and brain bits of the warriors tasked to guard me in the cargo hold. Their bodies were strewn about the bay in mangled pieces, or studded into the walls. And the ruined body of the fellow that had hit me lay draped over my metal yoke.

  I honestly thought of charging them at that moment. Thundering down the cargo ramp like an out of control bull in Pamplona and mowing them down with my two-ton metal yoke. There was the advantage of surprise, and I would have a head of steam rolling down the ramp, but this bunch looked like the elite of the elite, and there were a lot of them. If there was a chance to escape, this wasn’t it.