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

by Richard M. Heredia

  Around this huge fort was a stout redoubt. The construction topped a fifteen-foot wooden wall. It followed the path where Elysian Park Avenue would have encircled the stadium back home. The wall was two sided, planks fitted between each set of timbers. Five feet from the top, this extra timber formed a solid walkway from which armed guards could patrol. They could also gaze out at the area beyond the encampment or defend against a coordinated attack from below.

  To him, it appeared like any medieval sort of wall, crenulated and sturdy, only made of wood. But it was not the only one. About fifty feet behind this first wall stood an even taller one. It loomed into the turbulent air an incredible sixty feet high. At first glance, it appeared made of wood also. Only, Juan Ibarra had never seen wood of this specific nature before. It was slate-gray and glossy, as if polished to high sheen. The more he looked upon it, the more it reminded him of iron. Even from his distant vantage, it looked hard. Maybe it was impervious to fire also. He could only speculate at best. As with the first, this wall had its own palisade. He could see hunched figures striding atop it, braving the elements despite their deadly qualities.

  He smiled in spite of himself. While the cold of the storm affected them, it did not touch him in the least. Spooky.

  Against the inner side of this inner wall stood pens and lean-to’s of all sizes and shapes. They sheltered the thousands of creatures and their handlers. While, further within the encampment stood the homes of these caretakers. The various buildings they required to form the basis of civilization were there as well. He could see outhouses, smoke-houses, laundries, tanneries and smithies of varying sorts. He saw the edifices housing weaponers, armorers and masters of tack and harness. There were also crude groceries, bakeries, butcheries and cooking huts. A large number of other buildings were shops which told him one thing. They were planning on staying for a long, long time.

  He saw apothecaries, tailors, furriers, fletchers and bower’s. There were leather workers, stone workers, carpenters, fishmongers and a multitude of like establishments. They were primitive, but they were in evidence all the same. These structures filled the entire space until they abutted a third, even more formidable wall. This one was tremendous, high and wide with stone and wood alike. It was a structure so strong, it looked capable of repelling a platoon of M1A2 Abrams Main Battle Tanks..

  Within the confines of this forbidding stone construct stood was what he surmised were the various offices of the administrative arm of this horde. He could see officer’s quarters, sturdier mess halls and better-equipped armories. He even saw practice fields, cleared and leveled, though they were devoid of soldiers at the moment. There, other well-built edifices stood, but Juan could only guess at the purpose they served, other than to offer shelter. Still, he knew they had to be places of great importance. They seemed crucial to the long-term sustenance of the army billeted below.

  Madré de Dios, there’s a shit load of them!

  His eyes strayed to the largest structure once again. It was a large conglomeration of stone circumvented by the final wall of stone. The more he peered at it, gazing upon it through the driving snow, the more it resembled a Scottish Tor. There were huge fires built up completely surrounding it. There was light shining from each window or slit into its’ stony towers.

  There were three of towers to be exact. One was round and two square, and they stood about an enclosed central chamber that was no doubt the seat of power. It was large and vaulted.

  The tallest tower, the rounded one, was well beyond two hundred feet in height, capped by a cone-shaped roof, peaked. It bore a huge sanguine-colored standard of a howling wolf of obsidian, mounted atop a small mountain of corpses. The banner was near rigid in the harsh clutch of the wind. It streamed outward from the pointed center of the roof some thirty feet in length.

  The two squared towers had no such roof. They were wrought of stone, flat and broad with tall crenulations at their edges. Upon the tops of these two towers were three large ballistae each, surrounded by roaring bonfires. There was a squad of armored guards as well, milling about, seeing if there was anything amiss.

  Of course, this was ludicrous when one factored the weather. These two towers were about fifty feet shorter than the rounded one. But still, they stood above the central structure at about that same height. The great hall from which each of the towers emerged was roughly rectangular. It was a hundred feet tall, though the various chambers within did deform it. Along one side, it curved, an outward bulge that stretched from one end to the next. Juan guessed this center construct to be one hundred yards square. It was much too large for anyone to construct in only four days. It looked too permanent as if it had been there for centuries.

  He deemed they had brought it whole from someplace else. They had brought it here at great effort to whoever had the power to execute such monumental feats of magic. Yes magic, alright? It was the only thing he could think of that described everything going on around him. Even his own powers he had categorized as such – magic.

  From where he was standing, the front entrance of the castle did not face him per se. It angled to the left. Not so much so that he could not see the massive double doors, iron bound and studded, towering a good ten feet above the head of the average man. The portal was heavily guarded by four massive ape-like creatures. He could not help but linger upon them for a time, trying to understand the beasts he, his son and the rest of children were up against.

  Ay Dios Mio, what are those pinché changos doing down there?!?

  When compared to the little bitch he had been dragging around all over the place these past few days, those things were downright horrid. He was beginning to realize the true physical and numerical strength their enemies were bringing to bear. When his thoughts meandered back to the children and the small band of animals protecting them, it was hard not to despair.

  There were shelters enough in the encampment to house much, much than a mere thousand warriors. In fact, there might be enough for twice that amount, but that was not all that walked the grounds of the fort. There were creatures and beasts of such fantastical make, he could not begin to describe them. There were huge lizard-like creatures, great beasts on the wing and many more of the big apes. There were dog-like things resembling the mount the little bitch rode as well. There were some that were smaller, and a few even larger than Jätung. They had fur as black as the night and sprouted gigantic wings on either side of their long, well-muscled bodies. There were great bat-like creatures covered with insect-like thorns and spines. Their wings sprouted with long gray-white feathers. They were silken and beauteous, though grew upon a beast that was vile and demented. Still, such feathers would be treasures to own. They would no doubt put the feathers of the largest eagles he had seen back home to shame.

  He heard a great bellow then, issuing from a creature he could not see. Without question though, the thunderous howl had come from a beast many, many times his size by the sheer volume of its screech. Anything that could shriek louder than the wind had to be gigantic. He searched over the entire encampment for quite some time, but could not tell from whence the great roar had come. He knew somewhere down there in the midst of almost three thousand warriors and four times as many beasts, there was something terrible. Something hid in the shadows of the storm. It had to be something monstrous.

  He just could not see it.

  He sat down, hoping with time he might be lucky enough to spy what had shook the landscape with its exclamation. He was willing to wait as long as he must to find out. I don’t think we have a fucken chance against all those maricónes. There are just too many of them… He brought his legs up toward his chest, resting his elbows on his knees. His chin settled against the backs of his hands. How the hell am I going to keep you safe Andrew? How are we going to get you out of this mess and back home to the familia?

  Juan felt his heart sink as he peered through the snow and the wind and the cold, hidden from his enemies down below. His mind kept jumping from topic to
topic, each problem beyond his control. He kept asking himself the same question over and over. How are we going to win? Try as he may, he could not get around the fact the sheer number of their enemy was too great. He could not escape what he was gazing upon. It was disheartening to see how swift they had built their encampment, how vast and eternal it appeared. They should not have been able to build so quickly. They should not have been capable of creating something as sprawling as the complex filling the famous ravine below. It should have been impossible.

  But, it was not impossible. It had not been beyond their ability to build. This obvious fact screamed in his face, telling him they could wield massive amounts of magic at will. Maybe not like what he possessed, but abilities nonetheless. Maybe that was how they made the impossible, likely.

  How are we going to win?

  The thought flashed across his consciousness for the umpteenth time. Then his eyes spotted something unexpected. He stood, half-crouched before he caught himself. His breath stuck in his throat.

  It was another pale-skinned girl. She resembled the one he had watched climb into a cave hours ago in the foothills standing north of what should have been Glendale. This one was wearing a white dress and what appeared to be black pat and leather shoes. Only she did not wear a blue ribbon around her waist or a matching one in her hair. No, she wore a red ribbon, thick and painted with shapes that looked like flowers. He could not be certain, though. He was too far away. But, he could see the one she wore in her hair was exactly the same as the one about her torso.

  Another one? he thought with dread. Now what the fuck am I going to do with another flesh eating, cabrona?!? Madre de Dios, does this shit ever end? He peered skyward. Oyez, Padre you think you could see it within your power to allow me to find a cerveza or four? Almighty Jesus, this shit is getting stupid now!

  Though his mind leaped and danced with outrage, he stayed put. He sat back down in the snow, watching as the girl walked to the main gate of the outer palisade to talk with the guards there in brief. A moment later, she spun on her heel and sprinted with amazing speed back into the camp proper and out of sight.

  His mind was afire with thoughts of the other one. The one he had left shivering in a cave not too far from where he sat right now. She had been the one who had smashed into his home and took Andrew from him. She had been the one who had been here since the beginning.

  The spark began to take hold.

  It all came down to the little bitch.

  The puta was changing!

  His brow furled as a new thought gained a foothold. Something fell into a place. The thought matured and his perspective changed. Why had he not seen this before?

  True, he had thought something similar before, but not in this context, not like this at all. Before, he figured he could use it to kill her. Now though, from what he saw down below in the heart of Chavez Ravine, maybe he did not have to kill her after all.

  Maybe there was another way.

  Maybe there was no need to kill her.

  He had seen the way her once beloved mount had treated her after her legs had broken and she had grown. The beast had been acting the same way ever since.

  Maybe something was already happening, something he could use to his advantage later. Maybe it would be wise wait and watch for now.

  He did not think he would have to wait long.

  The puta was changing. No longer did she look like her companion down below in the encampment. He had sensed many changes in her already. He simply had not realized there had been so many until he saw the unchanged one below.

  Maybe other things in her were changing as well.

  That was it. That was the key.

  Maybe there was no need to kill her after all…

  ~~~~~~~<<< ᴥ >>>~~~~~~~

  ~ 32 ~

  The Unlikely Couple

  Sunday, November 28th, 6:44 pm…

  If one could qualify the definition of the phrase “opposites attract”, then the embodiment of that result would be Gabriel Rubio and Emilia Acosta. They made real it and personified as old Webster himself would have decreed.

  He was big for sixteen. Wherever he walked, he loomed, piles of muscle under mass in quantity. He topped six-foot-three and weighed two hundred twenty-five pounds.

  She was petite, your typical Mexican arch-type. She was only five-foot-one and a hundred and five pounds soaking wet.

  He was dark complected with brown eyes and hair, a round face and wide cheekbones, ending in a rounded chin.

  She was hourglass-shaped with a narrow face. These thinned features gave her an elongated sort of appeal. Though it complimented her, it made her look delicate, well-formed. She had dyed her hair cherry-red, cut much like the classic Cleopatra. It was rail-straight complete with bangs.

  He was laid-back, easy-going in the eyes of many, with a compassionate attitude that made it hard for him to stay mad at anyone for long. He had the uncanny ability to swallow insults and return nothing more than a friendly slap on the back. One would think a crushing blow to the face would follow, but not with Gabriel. It was not his way.

  A disastrous prior relationship had soured Emilia to most of the world around her. This was before she had laid eyes upon her hulking boyfriend. It was obvious some of his infectious positivity had brushed-off onto her. Though she still tended to see the “glass” half-empty, she had found a way to sort through her negativity before voicing her opinion or making an outward decision. This had helped her grow beyond her past and could have only manifested through the constant proximity of Gabriel.

  He was undergoing a rigorous regimen, training for the MMA circuits. It was his dream to see a big payoff down the line of what hoped would be a prosperous career. This goal had transformed Gabriel over the course of the pass year. He had gone from the proverbial fat kid to something quite different. He was something girls around him took notice of, wanted to snuggle against.

  She was not goal oriented, a mediocre student at best, who would rather “rock out” to Led Zeppelin or Journey than do her homework.

  In the end, all these differences did not factor into what had happened between them. When Emilia saw Gabriel laughing in the quad, during lunch, his jovial nature had brightened her day for some reason. She would never be able to explain how this was possible, though she will tell you without a doubt it is the gospel truth.

  In the span of five seconds, maybe less, she knew. She was so sure, none of the usual self-deprecation entered her thoughts or muddied her mind. She wanted to be close to him.

  That was all it took.

  That of course was before the Event, before someone began snatching up kids all over the neighborhood.

  They had come from dinner. They had been intent on walking about the Santa Anita Mall, window shopping, before start of the movie. They had tickets at the AMC 16 housed in one corner of the sprawling complex. It was to be a happy occasion, time spent together away from family and friends, outside of school and all the politics it entailed.

  But, it was not. Though they wanted some “alone-time”, they could not stop thinking about their friends with every step they took. The kidnappings of Anthony, his little sisters and Christina weighed heavy on their minds. Hearing on the car ride from Eagle Rock that the abductions were still happening had not help matters. After listening to the news and its’ continuous coverage of the Event, Gabriel had switched to the CD player. But heavy guitars and the yelling of the Death Metal and ScreaMo bands he liked to bang his head to did not energize him. At the time, it sounded incessant and somewhat misplaced when measured against the sadness he felt in his heart. A few minutes later, he had turned it off as well.

  He and Emilia had sat out the rest of the trip in silence, each mired within the dark clouds of worry and discontentment.

  He glanced down at his girlfriend as they walked the mall. He noticed when she was not biting one of her nails, she was doing the same with the inside of her mouth. She was not enjoying their casual stroll down the ma
ll any more than he was. And who would? he asked himself. He peered about at the bright shops with their cheerful associates, too quick to say hi, too enthusiastic with offers of help. Typically, none of this would have bothered him. After all, they were only doing their jobs. Not today though, not this night. Their saccharine approach was sweet enough, but not in the right way, like hamburger meat left too long in the sun – sweet, but sour alike.

  They were walking through the Food Court, passing the escalators toward the movie complex on their left. The bustle of the mall-goers, eating their meals with delight, was sharp in his ears. He knew the noise should not bother him either. He had walked these halls scores of times, he could not recall it being so annoying, its' lights near blinding. It had never bothered him in the past. Why now?

  He glanced down at Emilia once again.

  She was squinting just as much as him.

  She wants out of here. He looked ahead as they emerged around the slight curve of the building. He saw a grouping of tables and chairs beyond the outer doors of the mall, most of them vacant. It was cold out, even for November, but they had on their big coats and, from the way they were feeling, they could use the fresh air. Who cares if it’s artic.

  “Hey, love, you wanna sit outside for a while?”

  Emilia glanced up at him, her brow furled in thought. She did not answer right away. Their strides faltered.

  “It’s too loud in here,” he urged.

  She sighed. “You’re right about that.” She crossed her arms under her breasts. “Don’t you think it’s too cold?”

  He smiled, his lips thin, because he had been thinking along similar lines before he decided to ignore it. “Last time I was here, they had some of those heaters that look like street lights near each of the tables. Maybe we can find one with one of those things above it. That should keep us warm enough.”