The Gnol guard, recognizing Skip’s compassion for the woman, smirked at him. “Well, if we can’t win, then she will have to die.”
“No!” Skip shrieked. He pointed his rifle at the Gnol’s head and began to sprint toward the Gnol. He didn’t dare shoot. He was still too far away for an accurate shot with a plasma rifle.
The Gnol began to squeeze the trigger when Ariauna snapped her head back, catching the Gnol directly on the nose. Blood immediately gushed from his nose. Ariauna dropped to one knee and then threw a hard right jab directly into his groin. The Gnol buckled and dropped to his knees just as Skip arrived. Skip then delivered a powerful blow to the Gnol’s face with the butt of his rifle, knocking him out cold.
Skip reached his hand down to help Ariauna up. She hesitated, not sure if she could trust him. She grabbed his hand, and he pulled her up. Feelings of relief and guilt swept through Skip’s heart. He was grateful she was still alive. Yet, he felt guilty for deceiving her on that fateful day when she came under the control of the camp’s Enforcer. “Are you okay?”
Ariauna nodded. “I-I thought you had given in, Skip,” she said, her eyes beginning to glisten. “You were working for them.”
“I’m sorry, Ariauna. I had no choice. I wanted so badly to rescue you from the hell you must have been going through under the mind control of the Enforcer.”
Ariauna shook her head. “Why didn’t you? You have no idea what it was like.”
Her last statement cut through his heart like a hot knife. She was still angry with him. He looked up and met her eyes. “I’m sorry, Ariauna. I—”
Just then, Skip saw Captain Belzar and Bantyr rushing toward them.
Ariauna turned and backed away, recognizing Captain Belzar.
“It’s okay, Ariauna. He’s with us.”
Ariauna didn’t respond. She ducked her head and positioned herself behind Skip for protection from the massive Gnol.
Skip and Bantyr embraced. “It’s good to see you, Bantyr.”
“You too, Skip,” Bantyr said as he nodded toward Captain Belzar. “You sure do know how to find good help.”
Skip nodded and turned to his trusted friend. “We need to get that gate unlocked. The coordinates that I sent in the encoded message to the rebel base are in the small valley below us, about two miles from here.”
“I’m on it,” Belzar responded. He then took off for the control panel at the front gate.
“Where’s Sean?” Bantyr asked.
“He’s at the front of the gate, trying to keep the slaves under control. Bantyr, do you have enough energy to run about two miles?”
Bantyr nodded. “Yeah. I’ve still got adrenaline running through my veins. Why?”
Skip handed Bantyr his rifle and a small radio for communication. “Here, take these. After Captain Belzar gets that gate open, I am going to need you to run to a small valley below this base. Just follow the dirt road. It will lead you down to a small airbase that’s used for shipments to and from here. There will be a small contingent of about thirty Gnol guards on duty. I don’t think they have been alerted to what’s going on here, or else they would have been here by now.
“Wait under the cover of the trees until the rescue shuttles arrive. They should take the guards out with their firepower. Call me on the radio when the shuttles arrive. We have to use short wave radio because the computer virus disabled all incoming and outgoing communications.”
Bantyr nodded and then sprinted toward the front gate.
Skip then turned and met the tear-filled eyes of Ariauna. She wasn’t angry anymore. Now, she smiled at him. She took one step toward him and they embraced.
* * * * *
Commander Polatis Schaal’s body wrenched out of its uneasy slumber. Suddenly, he vomited uncontrollably onto his office floor. After heaving up his breakfast, he wiped his mouth and jumped to his feet. He was still dizzy. Whatever it was that Captain Belzar had injected him with, it left him nauseous and disoriented. He staggered over to Corporal Tolpez’s body. Reaching down, he checked for a pulse. Tolpez was dead. Turning around, he made his way to his desk. He pushed a button on its underside to shut off the annoying blare of the emergency alarms and lights.
He then grabbed his satellite phone and punched in the emergency code to alert his superiors in Chast of a slave revolt. He held the phone up to his ear and waited a few seconds. Nothing. He tried again. Again, nothing. Cursing, he threw the phone across the room. It smashed into pieces after colliding with the wall.
He rubbed the temples of his forehead with his fingers. His head pounded and his vision blurred. He shook his head again as he walked over to the painting of Koroan Chast, hanging on his office wall. He pushed a button on the underside of the bottom left corner of the painting. The painting rotated one hundred eighty degrees into the wall. Attached on the back side of the painting were several weapons: a plasma rifle, a solid gold dagger with jagged edges, two plasma handguns, and his favorite weapon – a plasma electrified sword.
The sword was a recent and awe-inspiring creation from his god, Koroan Chast. In fact, it was a gift given to him personally by Vlamer Kreuk for his performance as the commander of the slave camp. The sword’s blade extended four feet in length and was made of pure Omutx. The double-edges of the sword could slice through anything, and the solid gold handle fit his hands perfectly. Because of the Omutx and gold’s electrical conduction properties, the blade could attract a tremendous amount of invisible plasma and electrical energy from its environment. The more he wielded the sword, the more energy the blade would capture, making it one of the most lethal weapons a Gnol could have in his possession. When used, combatants could hear the hum of the plasma and electrical energy surging through the blade, which emitted a pale blue glow.
He sprang the sword to life with the press of a button below its hilt. The energy surged through the blade; the sound of energy particles crackling together rang through his ears. After admiring his most prized possession for a few seconds, he turned the sword off, fastened the sword’s sheath to his waist, and sheathed it. He then grabbed the plasma rifle. After collecting his weapons, he raced out his office door and toward the compound’s exit.
Before he reached the doors that would take him outside to the courtyard, a frantic guard came racing in. Schaal caught the guard by the shoulders before they collided into each other. “How many guards are left?”
The guard shook his head. “I-I don’t know, sir. Maybe a handful.”
Schaal gritted his teeth and cursed. “Have the slaves escaped yet?”
“No, sir. They are all gathering at the front gate. B-but the slaves have overtaken most of the guards. We didn’t have enough guards, sir.”
Schaal’s eyes went fiery with anger. He pushed the guard outside. “Stay with me.” Schaal turned to his left and saw close to a thousand slaves gathering at the front gate about one hundred yards in front of them. His eyes moved to the left toward the control panel that opened the gate. There, he saw Captain Belzar accessing the panel and Skip standing next to him.
The gate’s doors began opening, and the mob of slaves started to push their way forward. Schaal raised his plasma rifle. Looking through the rifle’s scope, he planted the crosshairs of the scope in the middle of the back of Skip’s head. He squeezed the trigger, releasing a red-hot plasma bolt in the direction of his target.
CHAPTER 9
Slave Camp of Zikf, Terrest . . .
The solid Omutx gates of the Zikf slave camp began to open slowly. Skip looked at Bantyr. “Go! Now!”
He watched as Bantyr squeezed himself through the small opening of the gate and then took off in a dead sprint toward the airbase in the valley below. Skip turned to his right and rushed toward Sean to help him keep the thousands of slaves, who were cramming themselves up against the gate, under control. “Stay back! Once the gates open, move to the valley below!”
The words were useless; the mob was beginning to overtake both him and Sean. Suddenly, a young m
ale slave who was directly in front of him fell into his arms. The young slave fell dead, to the ground below, slipping through his arms. Skip saw the plasma hole at the back of the slave’s head. Looking up and through the mob of slaves, he saw Commander Schaal and another Gnol guard charging toward them.
Skip hollered at Captain Belzar, “Schaal’s alive! We need to get these slaves out of here!”
Belzar nodded as the large gates continued to open slowly.
Skip reached out, grabbed Ariauna, and pushed her toward Sean. “Get these slaves to the airbase!” He then dove out of the way of the mob of slaves as Sean and Ariauna led the horde through the gates. Thousands of slaves poured through the gates, some falling down in their weakened state, and getting trampled underneath.
Skip felt Belzar’s large hands grab his arms and pull him up. “Go now! I’ll hold off Schaal.”
Skip was about to take off with the last of the slaves exiting the gate when he felt the intense, searing heat of a plasma blast hitting him in the right arm, propelling him through the air into the gate’s control panel. He slid to the dirt ground, writhing in pain.
Belzar raised his rifle toward Schaal, who was now within ten yards of them. But before he could fire, the guard running with Schaal fired a blast from his rifle, hitting Belzar in the abdomen. Belzar flew backwards into the control panel above Skip’s head. Skip rolled over before his friend’s body fell on top of him, which certainly would have crushed him. He frantically pushed himself up to his elbows. “Noran!”
But Noran Belzar didn’t respond. He was either dead or unconscious. Just then, Skip heard the crackling sound of electrical energy pierce the air around his left ear. Commander Schaal stood above him, holding a blue glowing sword pointed at his neck. The heat from the energy began to burn his neck.
“Get up,” Schaal demanded.
Skip rose to his feet, clutching his injured arm.
Schaal moved the sword down and pressed the point of it forward. The heat seared through Skip’s shirt and onto his skin. Searing, hot pain began to flow through his chest as the energy from the sword began to penetrate his skin.
Schaal looked at the young Gnol guard who stood next to him. “Radio ahead to the airbase and then go after the slaves. Try not to kill them all. This camp still needs to remain operational.”
“Yes, sir,” the guard said. Then he took off through the gates toward the escaped slaves.
“You must have some power of persuasion,” Schaal said, turning his attention back to Skip. “I never would have thought one of my most trusted captains would betray his own kind and help you useless animals.”
Skip stood strong without a word, looking the commander in the eyes, and trying to endure the pain from the third degree burns that were beginning to form on his chest.
“Besides,” Schaal continued. “I have a detail of roughly two hundred guards on post in that airfield. Even though the slaves outnumber them, there is no way a bunch of nearly starved slaves without weapons can overtake them.”
Skip was stunned. Two hundred was way more than what Belzar had reported. Skip just hoped that the encoded message he had sent out to the rebels was received.
Schaal moved in closer, this time pressing the blade of the sword on Skip’s neck, pushing him back into the wall. Gritting his teeth from pain, Skip tried to push back, but he was too weak. And Belzar lay at his feet, either dead or unconscious, only a few yards away from them.
Just then, Schaal threw a right uppercut into his jaw. Skip fell to the ground and everything went dark for a few minutes. As he tried to refocus his blurred vision, the commander swung his left knee up into his nose. The crushing blow sent Skip flailing backwards. He hit the back of his head on the wall and then fell face first into the dirt with blood pouring from his nose.
Schaal grabbed Skip by the hair and dragged him a few feet away from the wall. Holding him up by the hair, Schaal placed the blade of the sword on the back of his neck. The smell of burning flesh percolated through his broken nose.
“I think you have outlived your usefulness,” Schaal said as he raised the sword high above his head.
Skip closed his eyes, resigned, waiting for the inevitable. But death did not come. At that moment, Commander Schaal was thrown through the air. He landed with a thud onto his back and dropped his sword, trying to regain his wind.
Skip turned around, trying to regain his balance. As he stood, he saw Captain Belzar awake, still lying in the same place he had landed when he hit the wall, but he was holding his right arm up. He had telekinetically thrown Schaal away from Skip. With a weak voice, he said, “Go now. I can’t hold him much longer.”
In his own weakened state, Skip stumbled over to Schaal. The commander had regained his wind, but he was invisibly pinned to the ground. His eyes were the only things that moved. They darted back and forth from Skip to his sword, which lay on the ground a few feet to his left. Skip picked up the sword. Its energy sizzled and popped from its blade.
Schaal, realizing his dire situation, tried to struggle free from Belzar’s telekinetic death grip. Skip saw the fear in his eyes and waited a few seconds, allowing the dread and hopelessness to sink in. Skip slowly raised the sword. It buzzed, attracting the static electricity in the hot, humid jungle air. He clenched his jaw tightly and swung the sword down toward Schaal’s neck. The sword hissed through the air. But just before the sword sliced through the commander’s neck, Skip felt the back of his legs collapse. Schaal was now free from the invisible grip of Belzar and had kicked him behind the legs, causing him to fall backwards onto his back. The sword dropped to the ground next to Schaal.
Skip, now lying flat on his back, had traded places with Commander Schaal. Schaal stood over him, leering. “Oh, you human fool. You and your friends will never be able to defeat the Gnols. We are superior to humans in every way. And now, you will die,” he declared as he grabbed the sword with both hands and raised it high above his head, readying himself for the kill.
He began to thrust the sword down toward Skip’s heart. The point of it pierced his shirt and the skin of his chest before it suddenly stopped. The pain from the electrical energy of the sword flashed like fire through his flesh. He quickly raised his legs and thrust them forward into Schaal’s chest. The commander hobbled backwards, tripping over his own feet, and falling to the ground.
Skip rolled to his left, and the sword ripped through the upper part of his chest’s flesh, dropping to the ground beside him. With unbearable pain, he stood, picked up the sword, and stumbled as fast as he could toward Commander Schaal.
The commander was trying to scramble to his feet. This time, Skip acted swiftly and thrust the sword through his heart. Schaal stood for a few seconds; his eyes were wide open and trying to comprehend the fact that this human had just defeated him. He dropped to his knees and fell dead onto his back.
Bloodied, burned, and exhausted, Skip pulled the sword from Schaal’s charred chest. The heat from the energy of the sword evaporated any remnants of flesh and blood from its blade. “Who’s superior now?” Then he turned around to look at his fallen friend.
Captain Belzar lay in the same spot. He was awake, holding his arms over his bloodied abdomen. Blood also trickled out of the corners of his mouth as he struggled for air.
Skip dropped the sword and hobbled over to Belzar, holding his injured arm. Kneeling down, he placed Belzar’s head on his lap. Captain Belzar’s eyes met his.
“I-is he dead?” Belzar asked, his voice noticeably weaker.
“Yes … he’s dead,” Skip replied, emotion creeping into his own voice with the realization that his friend was about to die.
“L-leave me, Skip. Go help the slaves. … They n-need you.”
Skip shook his head. He and Belzar had become so close. An enemy at first, Belzar had become a trusted confidant, saving his and the slaves’ lives. “No,” Skip stammered. “You’re not going to die. Hopefully, Jake received my message and will be here soon. They have a medic. He can
help.”
“N-no, Skip. I-I won’t last much longer. Go.”
Skip knew Belzar was right, but he did not want to leave his friend to rot in the jungle.
Belzar reached up and grabbed Skip’s hand with his own bloodied one. He gave a slight squeeze. “They need you, Skip. Y-you have already saved me. I will see you again, my friend.”
And with that, Captain Noran Belzar closed his eyes and slipped into eternity. Skip fought back the tears and leaned forward, touching his forehead against his friend’s. “Yes, we will see each other again, my friend.”
With a renewed sense of energy and ignoring the intolerable pain from his wounds, Skip rose to his feet. He walked over to the sword, which still buzzed with electrical energy. Picking it up, he pressed the button below the hilt. The energy disappeared. He was surprised with how quickly the gleaming, double-edged blade cooled as he traced the blade with his finger. It was a beautiful weapon.
He then made his way over to Schaal’s body, took the sheath off the commander, and secured it around his own waist. As he slid the sword into the sheath, he turned around and looked at Belzar. “Good-bye, Tiny.” Then he took off toward the valley below.
* * * * *
Sean Gibson was surprised at how well his body was able to withstand the toll of the two-mile run down to the airfield. He figured the intense physical labor that he had performed under the influence of the Enforcer kept his body in shape. But he also knew that his body and all of the other slaves’ bodies were nearly starved. They were running on adrenaline.
Ariauna was several yards ahead of him. Both were staying behind the thousands of slaves running through the jungle and helping any stragglers that fell from exhaustion, or simply from tripping.
He saw a young slave girl with short red hair and no more than nine years of age stumble and fall directly ahead of him. He ran to her and helped her up. She gave him a warm smile, thanking him. He returned her smile. But just before they began to run again, he heard a plasma blast. The blast caught the girl directly in the back. She fell down, rolling down the steep incline of the jungle hill. Sean turned to see where the blast had come from. At the top of the hill was a Gnol guard in chase.
Worlds Without End: Aftermath (Book 2) Page 14