by John Davis
Instead, he had chosen to finally take stance against the bastards who had slain his own family. Now he simply wondered how good Nadia, Alicia and their teams were.
As he sulked in his chair, the caring eyes of Alicia Lucard watched over him. She could see he was hurting deeply, both from the recent decision, as well as from the past which continued to haunt him. She wanted so badly to enter the room and hold the hurting man in her arms, his strength, in many ways, was more than her very own. Her compassion for the Human race would have been a disadvantage, if not for her appreciation of beauty. But comforting him at the moment would compromise the group.
“We need to get outside of New Kinneston. Radio Norfolk and have them air strike the town tonight.” Alicia said in a soft voice.
“Absolutely not.” Nadia replied with haste, her words accompanied by a stern look. It was not a look that Alicia had grown used to seeing.
“We have a chance to do the greater good here. Take out an entire Ancient Division within minutes!” Alicia said, her words a bit louder but still hushed by any standard.
“I said no,” Nadia replied as if to dare Alicia to respond. “I will not kill my own kind in order to slow the Ancients. Nor will I stand by and watch it happen.”
“This is my group, and as long as I am in charge...” Alicia said, her statement cut off sharply.
“That is your group,” Nadia said as she pointed to both G and Calypso. “And I respect your ability to lead them. But I swear to the Gods above if anyone tries to radio in an air strike, I will put a bullet between their eyes in order to save the people of this town. And that, my dear, is the greater good.”
And with her words, a crashing sense of realism came down on Alicia, squashing any desire to be with a woman whom she had only moments before considered to be so desirable.
“Well said.” Sheriff Austin replied, entering the room as Nadia and Alicia remained involved in a stare of ill intent.
“I just risked everything to help you people, and you're back here talking about killing the citizens of New Kinneston,” Austin said, looking at Alicia. “That's kind of tacky.”
Nadia wanted to continue her stare, she honestly did, but instead she found herself laughing a bit before turning to Austin. “You're kind of funny, you know that?”
“Just be glad we didn't meet at the Moose Lodge,” he said with a grin. “And when I don't have Ancients trying to kill me...there's always that too.”
“My Templar, should we continue our assault on Washington City?” an Ancient warrior asked, his extensive hair length an indication of both age and experience.
“Yes. But we will leave a team of Butchers behind, and they are to remain in New Kinneston.” the Templar replied. “Have them sweep through the town, and should they find any Resistance soldiers, kill everyone with a heartbeat.”
The Templar had knotted locks of gray falling down his back, piercing eyes of orange and a thin frame compared to most of those who fought under his command.
However, he carried two things that signified his authority among the Ancients. A reflective orange sidearm, which was semi-automatic but possessed a punishing amount of power; also a tattoo of black which was branded into his forehead.
Unlike Humanity's military system, the Ancients kept rank. Once proving themselves on a battlefield, they were judged based upon their leadership skills, ability to slay and precision when doing both.
After the Ancient Council determined a soldier's worth, they were branded to signify rank. Most soldiers carried a simple brand of tribal design on the right shoulder. However, Commanders were few and far between, easily recognized by that imprinting of flesh on the forehead.
And then there were the Butchers. They wore banded armor around their torso, though a large spot in the sternum area was open, a spot that revealed their branding. They had no hair to speak of, their scalps shaven to a shine of gray, with occasional scarring also finding its home there. Elongated bottom jaw teeth rose from their mouths, giving the illusion of fangs from a distance, as their shimmer-orange eyes looked almost like those during a possession of a demonic variety.
Lastly, they had huge blades strapped to their backs. Very crude, the blades had a rigid edge that, in most cases, seemed to cut like a set of teeth. Simply put, they were a larger version on the man-chete. And though the massive amount of arm strength that a Butcher could pull from usually cut its victim in half, at times it didn't, in which case they could pull the blade back to them, ripping out large bits of flesh and vital organ in doing so.
“Yes my Templar!” the soldier said, turning to execute his order.
“And have them monitor all radio traffic. We picked up a transmission less than one hour ago, it was Resistance coded and requested an air strike of this very town.” the Templar added.
“My Templar?” the soldier asked.
“The Resistance is here, I know it. Have the Butchers locate them, and spare no expense in doing so.” he replied, bone white teeth gritting roughly.
“At once my Templar.” the Ancient soldier replied.
And with that, several minutes passed as the Templar stood silent, his eyes skimming the surrounding buildings of New Kinneston. He wanted nothing more than to remain behind himself to find the Resistance fighters being harbored by the town. Murder everyone involved and then torch the city on his way out.
But, unfortunately for him, he was under strict orders from the Ancient Council. Sack Washington City at any cost. He had roughly six-thousand star-born beasts under his command, each with a hate for the Human race that knew few boundaries. Each was well experienced, well versed in the art of war and well aware that failure was not an option.
And though it took nearly thirty minutes, the entire Ancient Division headed out, most on foot while a few of the higher ranking demons did so by way of armored vehicles.
“Thought those bastards would never leave.” G said, turning to rejoin the rest of his group.
“Not all of them left,” Austin said as he entered the rear of the Sheriff's Office. “They left four behind.”
“Four? That's it?” G asked.
“Yea, but they are Butchers from the look of 'em.” Calypso replied.
With his words, everyone stood to their feet, each knowing the dangers associated with such a powerful unit. Certes slowly removed his hood, no longer needing to remain hidden. The town had made its choice from the lips of Sheriff Austin Garrett; for better or for worse.
“I overheard the Templar say they picked up radio traffic requesting a Resistance air strike.” Austin said.
“You bitch.” Nadia said, quickly pulling her sidearm.
Though it would do no good, her draw just a bit slower than that of Alicia, who held a weapon of her own in Nadia's direction.
“Don't worry, I didn't have time to call it in. Remember?” Alicia said, her pistol hand steadily waiting. “Now I'm going to give you just a moment to compute that, at which time you either back down, bitch, or I'll bury you.”
Nadia wanted to pin it all on Alicia, she honestly did. Sexual desires aside, they had gotten off on the wrong foot in their first meeting, and hated one another with passion since. But Alicia was right, she had to be, Nadia had been in the same room with her for hours. It wasn't possible for any of them to have called in and requested an air strike. They had all been together.
“Who then?” Nadia asked, slowly moving her hand away from the weapon which remained holstered onto her hip.
“I'm not sure,” Alicia replied, nodding a bit to accept the fact that Nadia had indeed backed down from confrontation. “Someone in this town or nearby. Has to be.”
“More importantly, what the hell are we going to do about the Butchers?” Preacher asked.
“I'd say that's a mighty fine question,” Austin said, turning to the rest of the Resistance soldiers. “How much experience have you all had against these big fuckers?”
“None, other than what I've read in textbooks and reports.” Nadia
replied, Austin quickly turning as if to give her a look of shame.
“We've had our fair share.” Alicia said, her words gaining the attention of the Sheriff as well as members of Nadia's group.
“You have?” Austin asked, though his question was universal among them.
Alicia nodded, then turning to Calypso, who raised his shirt to reveal a scar. It began at the inner of his shoulder blade and ran down below his navel.
“Had a Butcher lay me wide open during an early battle for Washington City,” Calypso said. “Next thing I knew, Alicia was there with guns blazing and before I had time to blink, the Butcher was dead and I was on an operating table. She saved my life.”
Though the compliment of battle hit her ears, Alicia remained focused on a small portion of the window, her back turned to the group.
“Wait,” Alicia said abruptly. “Wait, what is that?”
As the group rushed to the window, she saw it once more. A glimmer of light flashing, almost in code fashion to them.
“Not sure, but whoever it is,” G said. “They're wearing a United States Naval patch.” he added as his eye pressed firmly to the scope of his weapon.
G watched through the magnified glass as the stranger reflected the small glimmer of light into their direction.
“Austin, the Butchers are doing a sweep of the town. Go out and make an appearance, otherwise they will begin to suspect you.” Alicia said.
He wanted to refuse. Even as the sworn law of New Kinneston, he wanted to be as far away from the sight of Butchers as he possibly could. But the fact that Alicia had indeed killed the bastards before established her as the true leader of this group. At least in his eyes.
And he trusted her instinct, simply nodding and reluctantly walking back outside to appear normal to both the townspeople and the monsters left behind with orders to slaughter on sight.
“G, you're with me. The rest of you ease out to see if you can find the Ancient supply cache. They must have left one for their warriors.” Alicia said.
“Good idea.” Certes admitted, knowing Nadia would never admit it for herself.
It was well known among Resistance soldiers that any town or location the Ancients frequented, a supply cache could be found. It usually was hidden well, but contained everything they considered vital for their own survival. Weapons, mobile shelter and a communications device, among other things.
“Remember, ease out. The only thing we have on them right now is surprise, so let's keep it that way.” Alicia said, the group acknowledging her words as they turned to leave the building under a shroud of dark.
As Nadia made her way out, she turned for a moment to exchange glances with Alicia.
Their relationship had been complicated from the start, each having pulled a weapon on the other. Alicia had no desire for Germans in general, and certainly there was no love lost for a person who refused to air strike in such an obvious situation. Alicia had began to question how good of a solider Nadia was. While she respected Nadia's value of Human life, Alicia would have gladly sacrificed her own life for the chance to take out thousands of Ancients. She had known soldiers who had sacrificed theirs for much less.
Still, no matter how much she disliked Nadia as a person, her body longed for the touch of the German woman's lips. She didn't want to work beside her as a soldier, she just wanted to lay beside her as a lover. Just once.
Perhaps share their story of souls through the passion of lovemaking. But that was to be decided another day as Nadia left to locate the Ancient supply cache, her perfectly-sculpted ass only adding to the sexual desires of Alicia Lucard.
“Anything else?” she asked.
“Nothing. Nothing for the past couple of minutes now.” G replied, continuing his stare of concerned study through the scope of his weapon.
“Well, keep on it. Someone obviously knows we are here.” Alicia replied as the door creaked open once more.
“I thought I told you...” she said, her words cut short by the sight of a Butcher filling the opening of the doorway. Alicia went for her sidearm, though even she wasn't fast enough to complete the motion before the massive Butcher slapped her down through the face, his powerful hand immediately breaking her will as she fell back into a corner of the small room.
In the time it took G to turn from his scope, the demonic beast born of the sky had pulled its sword, thrusting it toward the sniper. G's only option was to lean to his left, forcing his rifle to become a non-factor. The sniper did manage to bring it front a center moments later, the stock of the weapon barely deflecting a glancing shot from the demon's massive blade.
G had recovered, quickly pulling his silhouette blade to the ready.
“Well come on,” G said in a low voice. “You shirtless fuck.”
As the Ancient warrior cleaved its way down, the large blade chopping forward, G dashed to his right, momentarily, then thrusting forward he managed to plunge nearly a foot of the silhouette into the monster.
The plan was to push forward and bury the blade deeper into the demon in the process. Instead, as G moved in, the Butcher wrapped his large hand around the sniper's neck. Its commanding grip made G pay for his mistake, squeezing until inner bones and flesh popped under the pressure.
Loosening his blade in order to tend to the wounds of his throat, G immediately felt the cut of steel, stabbing deeply into the side of his thigh and bringing with it tremendous pain.
It was a second plunge of the blade into G's torso, however, that not only ended the sniper's life, but made the rest of the town aware of the battle; G screaming at the top of his lungs as his soul departed.
Alicia's eyes still watered heavily from the stiff backhand that had disoriented her, but even with a blur of tears, she could make out the massive figure standing over her.
Her instinct was to roll to her side, and the very instinct indeed saved her life. Alicia heard the massive blade clang onto the floor as she reached for her own weaponry. Still the monster came at her, so fast that she had no choice but to roll a second time, and escaping death this time came with a price, in the form of a small slice into her side. It wasn't deep enough to allow the blade's teeth to penetrate, thankfully, but the instantaneous pain served as a reminder of the severity at hand.
Alicia was a good enough fighter to parry the sword away with a swift kick, using a second foot to thrust her body into a standing position. Great tactics when fighting against another opponent, but the Ancient Butcher was a special case, hovering above her by nearly two feet and outmatching her in weight by at least three hundred pounds.
And at the very moment that Alicia had realized she overstepped in the fight, the Butcher buried a flush elbow into her face, this time bringing both tears and blood as the defenseless woman fell to the floor limply.
She was alert to what was happening, though her body seemed too sluggish to respond. Glancing up as if to admit defeat, Alicia watched through a veil of reddened-blur as the Butcher stood over her, smiling wide. A single gunshot ended all of that, the massive body of the Ancient warrior falling dead less than a foot beside her.
“Come, we need to go.” a strange figure said, extending his arm down to help Alicia to her feet. Though she had no idea who the person was, she was sure of two things. It was a man, obvious by the tone of his voice, and he had saved her.
“Wait...my friend.” she said faintly, concerned for G.
“I'm afraid your friend is dead,” the mysterious man said. “We'll come back for him when this is finished. I promise.”
Alicia was still unable to fully make out the man's face, but her judgment told her to trust him. She responded with a nod, trying her best to stand back to her feet.
When the man realized Alicia's inability to help herself up, he hoisted her onto his shoulders and fled the Sheriff's Office, knowing well enough that the other Butchers would return soon.
Chapter 3
As Alicia came to, her first reaction was to quickly rise to her feet and reach for a we
apon. When she found no weapons, she slowly fell back to a knee, compliments of an excruciating headache.
“Relax, I'm a friend.” the man said softly.
“My weapons, where are...” Alicia began to reply.
“They're right here. Just didn't want you to come to and start shooting, that's all.” the man replied, slowly returning them.
“Who are you? My friends...” Alicia muttered, her hand wrapped around her forehead as the blinding headache continued to hinder her.
“Your friends are fine, they're down there close to the Sheriff's Office hold up, watching the Butchers try to figure out what happened to one of their own,” he said. “And the name is Jackson Ayers. Lieutenant Jackson Ayers.”
“Lieutenant?” Alicia asked, looking into his direction, though her hand rested on the brow above her eyes.
“Unites States Navy, at least what's left of it. Stationed in Norfolk, Virginia. At least what's left of it,” he said with a chuckle. “Here, this should help your headache.” Jackson added, handing Alicia a cloth moistened with cold water.
He was a medium sized man, his body wrapped in military issue green pants and a thick bomber jacket; its polished leather a definitive signature of an aviator of the sky.
And he looked trustworthy enough to her, his face both innocent and experienced. As he smiled a bit, the slight stubble on his face reinforced the fact that he was indeed a friend.
“Long way from home.” Alicia remarked.
“Sure enough. Bastards shot me down about two clicks West of here a little over a week ago.” he said with truth. “Sorry about your friend down there.” Jackson added.
“He was a good man. A good warrior,” Alicia replied, not daring cry for G at the moment and add to an already overpowering headache. “But I guess this war has claimed many good men.”
“Claimed my RIO when we crashed, though the verdict on him was decent at best,” Jackson responded, chuckling at the light joke which even brought a smile to Alicia's face. “And you?” he asked.