Winter's Fury - Volume Two of The Saga of the Twelves

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Winter's Fury - Volume Two of The Saga of the Twelves Page 11

by Richard M. Heredia

Through the bodies blocking her view, Sophie craned her neck. She wanted to see. But, she could not discern anything more than rocks and trees. These, of course, commingled with the odd Spindle Down and strange, wild looking bushes that strewn the ground. This was in evidence as the elevation rose the farther it stretched away from her and into the forest.

  The moment they readjusted their positions, they stopped moving. An unsettling silence grew. The surrounding forest itself seemed quiet, as if commanded to hush.

  With an eerie feeling, she looked heavenward to see if the bird-slug was still visible, but it was not. The skies were empty for the moment.

  “Do you see anything, Sophie?” chirped Louis at her side, his voice made higher by the worry enshrouding his every move.

  She could feel his small, chubby hand gripping the corner of her pink jacket. “No, I don’t, Lou. If there’s something out there I can’t tell what it is.” She looked down the boy with a half-smile.

  She glanced up when she felt Anthony’s gaze fall upon her and she was about to broaden her smile when she saw it.

  She could just make it out over Anthony’s half-turned shoulder. It was coming down the slope of the hill at a tremendous speed, about thirty yards distant. It was so strange. It was bewildering to gaze upon. Her smile froze on her face, awkward because she could not grasp what she was seeing. She could only look back and do no more. With half a mind, she was aware Anthony’s expression changing the moment he saw her own countenance falter. She did not see him turn to follow her gaze, because her eyes were stuck on the creature hurtling toward them with reckless abandon.

  It was large, about the size of a prized hog seen at your typical county fair. Its’ body was long and thick, but stout with short, well-muscled legs. Even at a distance, Sophie could tell it weighed close to three hundred pounds, maybe even more. Yet, unlike a prized hog, this creature had a long tail bristling with the coarsest hair she had ever seen before. It had a squirrel-like head, ending with a pair of long fangs. It trailed long runnels of what she assumed was slathering spit. Its’ coat was just as coarse and thorny as its tail. It was a dark chestnut color speckled with black. If there had been less snow on the ground, it might have served as good camouflage against the greens, browns and yellows of a forest in spring or summer.

  She heard both of the bear-dogs growl and snarl, jaws agape. She watched, from the corner of her eye, as they braced for impact.

  Even so, the squirrel-ish pig did not seem to notice them. It did not even glance in their direction. It came on, its’ beady eyes focused on those behind Kodiak and her daughter.

  In that split-second, Sophie swore the horrid thing bounding toward her was staring right into her eyes. It wanted nothing more than to taste her flesh and drink her blood. She almost peed on her pants when the fear struck her - vice-like and profound.

  Then, an orange blur streaked from the forest at a thirty-degree angle relative to the creature. It charged so fast; she had no idea what it could be.

  A second later, she realized it was Garfield.

  An eye-blink later, the mighty cat took the squirrel-pig by the neck with his powerful jaws. His long claws pierced the beast at the shoulder, as deep as they could go. She watched the feline bite down. Then came the disquieting sound of the disintegration of the creature’s neck bones.

  A great splat of blood sluiced upon the ground.

  Then, Garfield and the creature both tumbled from view. The bushes beyond swallowed them and they sent huge swaths of snow and other debris in every direction. There was no squeal or howl or any noise issued from the squirrel-pig.

  Garfield had been too fast and too lethal.

  Sophie only heard a loud tearing sound as if someone was ripping a phone book in half.

  A few seconds later, Garfield emerged from the bushes alone. The entire front section if his body covered with thick, crimson blood.

  “The way is –,” began the great cat when an ululating cry sounded to Sophie’s right.

  She turned on a dime. Another squirrel-pig slammed hard into Mugzy, knocking him sideways.

  Elena, who had been at his side, cringed at the last moment. The sudden noise fired her instincts, her body away moved from the commotion on automatic. Yet, even that was not fast enough. She went hard to the ground at Mikalah feet. If there’d been no snow upon the ground, she might have broken her arm or dislocated her shoulder. But, the snow was there. It did arrest her vicious tumble, cushioning the impact and saving her from serious injury.

  Sophie raced toward the sprawled girl. Her mind was ringing with an incredible clear and coherent thought.

  Get Elena out of the way! NOW!!!

  The little girl was blinking in shock. She did not understand what was happening. Her eyes large and unfocused as she struggled to right herself, her movements were uncoordinated, too slow, and not normal.

  Mere feet away, Mugzy and the creature became a deadly ball of teeth and claws, hacking and biting. They were a pair of savage beasts, uncaring of who they might hurt. Their massive bodies were, at any time, capable of smashing Elena to a pulp.

  “No!” Sophie screamed, knowing if they rolled the wrong way, they would crush the girl.

  As quick as she could she bent down and grabbed Elena under the shoulders. She did not bother trying to lift the little girl to her feet. She yanked the girl, with all the strength she could muster, out of harm’s way, dragging her as she back-peddled.

  Mikalah, who had been a few feet farther away, screamed and stumbled after them. She fell to the ground. Her legs were not quite functioning as they should. She was too scared.

  Out of nowhere, Anthony came upon them, grabbing for Elena, planting her on her feet in one swift movement.

  The little girl clutched at her right shoulder and upper arm, and began to cry.

  “Elena! Elena, are you hurt?” cried Anthony.

  She was too shaken.

  Sophie could see her brother’s words held no meaning for her. She was too dazed to respond.

  Then, there was a barrage of sound.

  Sophie glanced over her shoulder and saw both Jason and Joaquin running toward them. Both of them were pointing, gesticulating like a pair of wild banshees. They were screaming at the top of their lungs.

  She could not understand what they were saying, even though they were yelling. Too much was occurring at once, too fast. Her brain could not keep up.

  Louis screamed at her left.

  Oh God!

  She whipped her head around to see a third squirrel-pig leap for the young boy’s fleshy throat. She knew there was nothing she could do.

  There was nothing any of them could do.

  He was too far away to rescue.

  She felt her heart twist in pain for her precious newfound friend. The sweet, happy-go-lucky child was about to be rent asunder right before her eyes, eaten alive.

  And, she could only watch it happen.

  ~~~~~~~<<< ᴥ >>>~~~~~~~

  ~ 10 ~

  As One

  Day Four, Sunday, 8:29 am…

  Mikalah froze, crippled with fright. Moreso than what she had experienced when she had seen the Swüreg arrow headed straight for her brother. She had known then it would hurt him bad, maybe even kill him.

  She knew now she was about to witness something even more terrible.

  She watched with morbid fascination as the squirrel-pig leaped for Louis. Its’ jaws were wide, gaping, as it flew through the air toward the plump boy.

  The boy was turning from the beast, slow, exposing his meaty left shoulder. His hands covered his face as he cried out in terror.

  She was sure he was screeching as loud as he could. Yet, she had not heard. She did not want to look. All she wanted to do was hide her face and cover her ears. She did neither.

  She was aware of Garfield, and Kodiak and Kenai, even the boys. She knew they were sprinting toward Louis. She could see the desperate, straining hope on each of their faces, wishing above all else they could reach him
in time.

  She knew their efforts were futile.

  They were too far away.

  There was not enough time.

  She seized the vestiges of her Gift, ignoring thought, not allowing anything to take form. It went unprocessed. Her mind stayed blank.

  There was not enough time.

  Everything about her was instinctive now. She squared her tiny body toward the place of inevitable impact. Everything seemed to slow down, and then it slowed again. It crawled, only a fraction faster than frozen. She blinked. She glanced at squirrel-pig surprised, but only for a moment. The beast was suspended in mid-air, a miraculous sight. She was the only thing that moved upon the land. She was the only one who could move for that matter.

  All about her, there were inklings of movement. There were hints and guesses that things, whether it was a chunk of upturned snow or a gooey string of squirrel-pig spit, were capable of moving, but it was only that.

  To Mikalah, all else was in temporary hiatus. Her companions, the familiars, the horrid beasts, even the detritus kicked-up into the air, stalled. The trampled snow and dirt and twigs, the fallen leaves and small rocks churned, went flying only to come to a halt. Her perception increased a thousand-fold. On the ground or in the air, everything around the little girl had stopped - almost. It crept forth at one-quarter a snail’s pace.

  This was her time. This was where she as the master. In the vacant spaces between ticks of a second, she ruled supreme.

  With a breath, she became explosion and was gone.

  She heard a faint popping sound behind her and knew the ice and snow, upon which she had been standing, erupted in a ferocious plume. It expanded outward from her feet like a Japanese folding fan. And still, even that was moving at no more than a creep compared to her. Relative to everything else around her, she was blinding, unseen, too swift to follow. She was invisible to the naked eye.

  From her perspective, she reached Louis in no more than two seconds.

  In reality, dividing that number by a factor of twenty was a more accurate depiction of her velocity.

  She felt her feet sink below the snow, into the frozen soil below. Her traction was fantastic. Her speed was unfathomable as she plowed across the pathway and toward her new-made friend.

  The beast was still in the air, a foot closer than before.

  She pushed Louis, to one side and out of the path of the squirrel-pig, delicate as she could. She knew she must use the least amount of force. Her momentum alone would be enough to shatter every bone in Louis’ upper body. She could kill him. Thus, she gave him no more than a tap of her middle and index fingers. As dainty as she could, she placed them upon the boy’s shoulder, pushing a fraction of an inch. It was a small nudge, all she was able to give him.

  Yet, the effect on Louis was drastic and immediate, and simultaneous.

  It began with his face. It went from a mask of death to brazen surprise. There was only a moment of registered shock before Louis’ arm pin wheeled. He left his feet as if Lawrence Taylor had clothes-lined him. Only this motion was slow, creeping like instant replay on the television.

  Mikalah shook her head, her brain having difficulty focusing on the strange sight. Her eyebrows rose as she watched Louis come off the ground. Her incredible velocity threw him into the air - even if it was three times slower than molasses seeping from a toppled jar.

  She prayed she had not hit him too hard, but she could’ve done no better.

  There was no time.

  She stopped in her tracks, digging tremendous furrows in the ground. Her small feet tore up everything as if she were as heavy as an elephant. Unlike the time when the Swüreg arrow sped for Anthony’s heart, she did not fall.

  She turned around, looking behind her to see Jason. He was moving with relative speed when compared with everything else in the immediate area. She backed up a few feet, knowing what was coming. She had seen a similar display in the cave. She brought up her hands, shielding her face.

  The teenage boy strode up to the squirrel-pig at one-quarter normal speed and punched it with all his might. He struck the creature in the lower jaw. It had been lolling below the rest of its snout with ravenous anticipation.

  The next moment, she squinted; glad because of her foresight. A bright red cloud detonated where the creature’s mandible had been moments prior. She blinked through blast of blood. Mikalah knew the collision between Jason’s fist and the creature’s jawbone had been catastrophic. The squirrel-pig’s sanguine fluid turned to a fine mist. The entire lower area of its’ snout was no more than a fleshy stump, hanging, gruesome. The beast’s tongue ripped to shreds, flapping like a flag in the wind, dragging alongside the side of its’ mouth.

  Mikalah felt like she was going to throw up, and lost her hold upon her Gift. She focused on Jason instead, choosing to lose herself in the bizarre golden glow enveloping him. Her nausea passed.

  Across what had been an infinite divide, but was now bridged by a miraculous tendril, they spoke, “We are The Twelve.” A connection forged that had not been there seconds before.

  She could see the strength, the enormous vigor surging through him with every beat of his heart. She could feel the immense power coursing through his muscles. He was beautiful, so full of life. And yet, he was imposing, made dreadful by the destruction he could unleash. She could not quell the awe consuming her.

  He was in the midst of his Gift.

  She was within the grip of hers.

  Their minds were one. Their thoughts intermixed.

  Save him! Save him! Do not think, Jas, move! he was saying to himself.

  They were two of The Twelve in concert.

  Was this what it meant to belong?

  “I see you, Jason, I see you!”

  The world sped up to its’ normal pace. Her Gift drained from her. Her thoughts seemed to hang in the air before her.

  But not before… “I see you, too!”

  It had not been her voice in her mind. It had been his.

  Then, the squirrel-pig slammed onto the ground with a slushy squish, dead.

  Jason had slain it with a single blow.

  A heartbeat later, Louis smacked into the snow with an audible Woof! He was on the opposite side of the trail, unmoving in a large snow drift. He was safe for the time being. Stunned and bewildered, having flown eight feet from where he had been standing before the attack. But, he was safe.

  Mikalah glanced around. Her burst of speed had not only knocked down her brother, sister and Sophie, it had tossed Mugzy and the second squirrel-pig too. Every one of them covered in a thick sheet of snowy dirt.

  Mugzy and the squirrel-pig confronting him had landed clear of one another because of the blast. But only the man-dog seemed stunned by the concussion of Mikalah’s departure.

  The squirrel-pig had already gained its’ feet and was snarling at him, pure malice in its’ beady eyes.

  Garfield and the rest of the animals were quick to surround Mugzy.

  Mikalah thought about reaching for her Gift, slowing down time once more, but did not have to.

  The squirrel-pig turned and fled into the forest and out of sight, its' morale crushed. With the loss of its’ companions, its’ chances of garnering a meal amounted to nil.

  “Good god, Mikalah, can you at least give us some type of warning when you’re gonna go ludicrous speed on us?” complained Anthony as he climbed to his feet, helping up Elena and Sophie. He dusted all the snow and dirt from his coat and jeans, and anything else that she had uprooted onto him. It seemed as though he had taken the brunt of the little girls’ onslaught.

  There were chuckles all around at that.

  Then Anthony bent one knee as he brushed off Elena, who was still clutching at her shoulder, her face a mask of pain. “How do you feel, Weesy-woo? Are you hurting?”

  The little girl nodded, but tried her hardest not to cry.

  “Can you move your arm for me, so I can make sure it isn’t broken?” he asked with a tender inflection.r />
  Again, she returned mournful nod. She was able to lift her arm from her side and pivot it within the socket of her shoulder without much impendence. Yet, when she raised her arm straight up over her head, Mikalah saw her grimace as a sharp lance of pain seemed to stab her sister.

  Elena brought the limb back down to her side with a muffled, “Ooow!”

  Anthony grunted and massaged her shoulder, his touch soft. “I'm one hundred percent sure it's only a bruise, a big bruise, but only that. I don’t see any broken bones or dislocation. You think you will live?” asked her brother, playful.

  About them, the five familiars formed a cordon.

  Elena smiled in spite of the anguish in her shoulder, one eye tearing up.

  Anthony wiped it away quick as she nodded in affirmation.

  Mikalah came forward and peered into her sister’s eyes, knowing she would find the truth there. Relief washed through her when it appeared Elena was not hiding any more than she was expressing to them.

  Their brother stood and embraced Elena a second later, a rarity between them, but necessary given the moment.

  Sophie came up behind Elena and dropped to her knees to give the girl a squeeze from behind.

  “You two are becoming quite the tandem,” said Joaquin, walking up to them, a broad smile making his eyes squint. “The Blytz and the Flĕsch can do some serious damage working as a team.”

  Mikalah watched as Sophie, her brother and Elena finished hugging. They released one another and turned as a group to face the large teenage boy, faces speculative.

  “You guys mangled that Klürrg.” He was motioning with excitement toward the sodden corpse on the ground at Jason’s feet.

  Klürrg? Is that what you call a squirrel-pig from Storm? A silent question she left unsaid.

  Jason was beaming. He was not used to possessing such brute strength. He’d been diminutive growing up. “It felt like I was hitting tissue paper or something, and not skin and bones. And to make things even cooler, for a fraction of a second, I thought I could read Mikalah’s thoughts.” Jason shrugged, muttering under his breath, “It was crazy.” He reached down, grabbed a handful of snow. He began to wipe at the blood and gore on his gloves and right arm where some of the remains of the creature had splattered onto him.

 

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