by Maxey, Phil
“Apart from the former motel’s residents,” said Joel. “I’m not sensing any scourge individuals, meaning if the corporation is here, they must be at the center of town.” He pulled out the piece of map that Jasper had marked, and placed it on the bed, then traced his finger along the route they had come in on. “We’re here. And the center of town is—”
“About a thirty minute march,” said Pachmayer.
Joel nodded. “Yup. If we lose comms with each other, this motel is our rendezvous point. Lets go.”
*****
The huge bat-like wings of a Drak beat amongst the black smoke that bellowed from the buildings of Jankle. In its claws a king looked down upon the burning town and briefly smiled, some solace to not having heard from his brother Tyror.
“Down,” said Rynon.
Five other Draks beat against the dense air, with a group of ‘otherhumans’ in their grasps, and the entire group descended to the roof of the medical center, one of the few structures that the flames had not reached yet.
The plan to destroy their enemies had worked perfectly. He and Eltir had laughed at how foolish the humans had been in keeping their greatest asset, the hybrids trapped inside a large building outside the walls. Easy pickings for his specially selected group of Alkrons. And despite the formidable human technology, the flaw in the towns defenses was obvious to even the simplest of minds. Vamps had always been good at tunneling. A tactic he and his brothers had used against human settlements eons before.
They never learn.
Humankind had forgotten about the scourge and the gifts it had bestowed on humanity until the Drak known as Copeland in his pitiful search for youth, stumbled upon their tombs. Eventually the capsules heard the calling of the tablets, and released the three kings upon a very different world to the one they had left. Civilizations had risen and fallen during the time they were sleeping and those that had survived the turmoil became weak and comfortable with their technologically led lives, blind to true power. The power of the scourge.
The final piece of the strategy to take the town and rescue his brother was to take someone important to those in charge. The hybrid that cared for those that were slaughtered was perfect for the role and would keep Tyror alive, despite the destruction of the town. Those that cared for her would make sure of it, and when everyone around them was dead, and they realized that they would never see the doctor again, it would be too late, for the kings would have arrived and the brother would be freed. A perfect plan.
Rynon landed on the roof of the center. Through his spies he had leaned that Tyror was being kept in the basement of the structure. At the back of his mind was a silence that troubled him though. A vacancy that was usually filled by one of his siblings presence. His type of Alkron did not have the same abilities to control or read the minds of others, an ability made up for by being stronger and more durable than most, but he could sense those infected, and especially feel when his brothers were close. An enhanced familial bond.
Rather than use the access to the floors below, Rynon gestured to a Drak, then pointed at the concrete below their feet. The huge creature lumbered forward and with a foot wide clenched fist smashed into the floor, others joined and within moments a jagged hole existed. “Stay here,” he said to those around him then stepped off the edge, landing neatly in an office. Becoming a blur he swept from the room, along corridor after corridor, descending stairs until he was at the ground floor, then after locating the basement, stormed down the steps, along the final stretches of a hallway, until eventually his brothers scent led him to the final secure door… which was open.
The stench of death had been obvious from the moment he entered the subterranean area, but that had to be vamps. The soldiers stationed there had put up a desperate fight against the horde, all dying in vain. That must have been the source of the smell, which he knew like the inside of his own mind. He and his brothers had feasted on thousands of humans, crawled over the bodies of vamps and other Alkrons alike. He knew the stain of death. But a new emotion was clawing its way out from deep within him. A feeling that was both overwhelming and stopping him from moving any further forward.
Grief.
He’s gone.
The king shook his head. It was a thought too inexplicable to hold on to. They were immortal. They would live forever. It was their destiny.
He’s dead.
He staggered forward, pushing the door fully open and held the frame. Images waged war in his mind. Splintered bones, dark patches of torn flesh. His brother reduced to waste.
He and his kin had done the same to others but as his mind tried to create a coherent thought, a cascade of memories tore through him and he fell to his knees, sobbing.
Mumbled words fell from his mouth. A babble which even the translating circuitry built into his suit could not translate. But as disbelief mingled with loss, a greater, stronger emotion was making itself known. Rage.
He slung his head back and cried out to what gods may still be listening to his kind, and in one movement grabbed the iron door, ripping it from its hinges and set about destroying the walls. In his fury he almost did not hear the noise moving away, at the opposite end of the corridor. Human boots were just audible over the sound of his heart.
He turned and was gone through the doorway, along the corridor and before a scream could escape from the lungs of the soldier that was looking to escape, sliced across the back of a desperate figure with his sword. One man becoming two halves, which slumped to the floor.
Rynon looked down at what used to be, and felt nothing. No joy of revenge. The hole left by his younger brother was still open and raw.
Footsteps came from the top of the basement stairs, jolting him back to his surroundings, and he wiped the wet from his cheeks and made an attempt to clear his throat. One of his lieutenants descended and stood at the bottom, looking first left then right to where his king was standing.
“We have located the train, sire.”
“How far from here is it?”
“Currently, roughly sixty miles.”
“Good…” The word excreted from his mouth.
The hybrid turned to move back up the stairs.
“Get a message to Faulkner,” said Rynon. “Tell him to kill her. Kill her now.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
They moved quickly across lawns of knee high grass, fall leaves and long dead blooms, all displayed as shades of neon green in night vision goggles. Three teams, Dalton and Keller, Geri and Cannings, and everyone else, led by Joel were moving slowly south through the suburbs of the town, scaling garden fences and backyard walls when required. The two groups with the wolfs were ahead of Joel’s group, their noses being able to sniff out the enemy long before even a hybrid’s senses would tell them danger was close. Radio’s were only to be used for non-vocal communication. Two clicks if Keller’s group saw the enemy, three if Geri’s. So far there had been no clicks.
Joel peered through the branches of a small tree towards the rear of a single story residence, and a two-lane road beyond. It was the route they would have passed along if they had stayed on track as they moved into town. He knew they were now close to the center, a mile or so to the south, but there was still no sign of the corporation, human or otherwise. It made no sense. Jasper had never been wrong before.
“Can’t sense anything,” whispered Amos crouched behind him.
“How far out can you—” Foster tapped the side of her helmet. “— do your mind thing?” she said behind him.
“Maybe few miles.” He looked back to Joel. “If there are people here, I’m not detecting them.”
Joel sighed and looked back to the main road. “Let’s keep moving.”
The group of five jogged around the back of the home, moving across its garden and into the next. With each property they transgressed Joel waited for a click from his radio but none came, until they arrived at the back of the largest building so far. A multi-story Victorian home, which would have proudl
y been featured on the cover of any lifestyle magazine.
They quickly made their way between aged ivy covered trees, to the entrance of a sunroom. Comfortable whicker chairs and a marble table sat inside. Joel tried the handle, which turned, and they all moved inside, and then deeper into the home, through a kitchen to the living room, their assault rifles leading the way.
“This is bullshit!” said Kizzy. “Where’s the bad guys?” Her question was aimed at Joel, but most were looking at the young man next to her.
“Still nothing?” he said to Amos, who frowned while shaking his head.
Pachmayer was at the window, looking out to a junction and a similarly impressive home on the opposite corner. “Something feels off.” He glanced back to Joel. “How sure are you that the kid was right?”
Joel wanted to tell the captain he would bet his life on what Jasper had told him, but he really had no idea. Maybe this was a time when Jasper got it wrong.
All this way for noth—
Two clicks came from his radio, which they all heard.
“Finally,” said Kizzy under her breath, but Amos looked concerned.
“Yeah yeah,” said Pachmayer excitedly. “I see someone at the entrance to that building over there. He’s just gone back in.”
Joel joined him, looking through a gap in the drapes. The whole block on the far corner of the junction consisted of a wide parking lot, with several pickups and cars, and behind, a red brick single story structure, which despite plainly being modern was built in the same old style as the buildings around it. Joel tried to see what was etched into the stone plinth on the path out front but was unable to make it out.
“There he is again,” said Pachmayer.
A muscular man in a denim jacket stood outside the entrance. He appeared to be talking on a cell phone, nodding. A glow lit his back, suggesting a light source within the building.
“That’s got to be it,” said Joel. He clicked two times on his radio to indicate he had seen the danger too, then looked behind to Amos, who went to speak but stopped. “What?” said Joel.
The young man shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Can you sense where she is?”
Amos’s eyes became slits as the effort to use his abilities became obvious across his face. He started to shake his head again, then stopped. He looked up. “Yes… She’s alive! I don’t know how I missed her before, but yes. She’s in that building!”
“How many enemies?”
He looked away in concentration again. “Umm… not many, maybe… six?”
“Human or Alkrons?”
“Err… one Alkron… everyone else is human.”
“So they didn’t think we’ll find her,” said Foster.
Joel studied the different sections of the building which contained numerous windows across its span of a few hundred feet. A column above the roof suggested a clock tower, and a larger central area was perhaps the official entrance.
“Lots of access points,” said Pachmayer. “Not what I would choose if I was holding a hostage.”
“Nope,” said Joel. He had scoped out secret locations where people were being held across the world throughout his career, and this definitely did not look like any he had seen before. The only explanation was that the corporation thought they wouldn’t be discovered like Foster mentioned. But still… his instincts were screaming something was wrong.
A creaking door at the back of the house rang out and the humans spun around, guns and rifles at the ready. Dalton appeared in the living room’s doorway, along with Geri and the others.
“They got her inside that school,” said Dalton. “I saw her through one of the back windows. But we got to move quick. I overheard some of what was said by the guy on the phone, caught the words ‘dispose of.’”
A jolt of urgency rang through Joel. His instincts be damned. They had to go in now. He looked at those around him. “Two teams. I’ll be in the first, the extraction team, with Kizzy, Keller and Dalton. If we get into trouble, it’s the job of the rest of you to get us out.” Everyone nodded. “Let’s go.” The group divided into two as they emerged from the rear of the property, but all moving in the same direction, down the small path at the right side of the house, and then seeing it was clear moving quickly across the two-lane road into the front yard of the other Victorian home, and then to the back. Its garden ran parallel to a road which ran down the side of the school. Dalton and Joel climbed up on a wall, the bigger man indicating to a series of windows at the back of the complex of buildings.
“I saw her in—”
A scream replaced all other noise in the night around them. It came from where Dalton had just pointed. Joel instantly recognized it as Anna’s.
Without pause he cleared the wall, landed and ran towards the buildings at the back of the school, Dalton and Kizzy close behind, the latter now sporting a physique which belonged to a body-builder, her once too large fatigues now straining their stitching.
They had made it to the second and smaller of the parking lots, when the world became a blaze of light and constant sound of gunfire. Joel flicked his NVG’s off and dived to the ground, trying to see what his senses was telling him, but his vision was lost to light echos.
“Dalton! Kizzy!” he shouted scrambling forward. Growls and grunts played out close by, but then something solid slammed into his skull and he slipped into an unconscious void.
*****
The din in the train car consisted of coughs and groans. The stench of vamps still lingered in the air and Marina wondered how many around her had been infected.
The fires from the town of Jankle had been visible through slits in the side of the train car for half the journey to the coast. An orange inferno projected onto the clouds above the Alabama town. For most of those on the transport making its way south through the Florida night it was a reminder of what could have been, but for Marina just another regret.
She sat on a wooden bench. One of many that the soldiers had hastily constructed inside the cars over the previous days to house the population of the town. A single lantern hung from a wall, bouncing in tune with the clatter of the wheels on the tracks, but the interior of the sweat infused space was mostly shadow. Jess was on her lap, Jasper on the seat next to her right, Mary to her left. The dogs were around their feet and Evan and Shannon sat opposite, the young girl with her eyes closed, her head resting on his shoulder. Most of the other travelers were similarly positioned, trying to recover from the exodus from their home.
Marina was also tired. Not physically, for the night still provided sustenance, but drained from the constant threat of danger. Jankle was another hole that had almost devoured them, and from what Evan had reported to her, almost literally. She needed refuge. A place where the corporation’s claws couldn’t reach. She had overheard that they were heading towards the coast, for what reason she had no clue, but she was done being led by others. She had lost a husband and sister but gained a family and she needed them safe. Once they arrived she would learn what the next part of the journey would be, and then decide to continue with them, or take her leave with the kids and anyone else who wanted to go.
She felt the slight pull towards the front of the train which slowed a little, followed by the clatter of steel on steel as it changed tracks, and a fresh salty odor floated across her face. Placing a sleepy Jess in her spot on the bench, she got up, moving between cramped legs and feet and stood near the openings. The moon sparkled across a huge expanse of water. They were moving across a bay, but the celestial body was the only source of light and what lay beyond the end of the bridge was still cloaked in darkness.
She heard Evan get up and stand next to her.
“We’ll near the coast,” she said.
“Yup.”
She sensed his reticence and looked at him. “You know where we’re going next?” She didn’t need to be Amos to tell the young hybrid next to her knew something she did not. “What?”
“It’s meant to be se
cret.”
“And… what is it?”
He sighed, and leaned in closer to her so no human ears could receive what he was about to say. “We have to get on a ship…”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A bass drum thundered in Joel’s brain before his eyes opened to a red stained view of the world. He was on his knees in the center of the junction outside the school, surrounded by hundreds of mocking figures. He strained to better see who they were, when a grunting sobbing sound came from his right, making him turn painfully in that direction. Dalton was equally positioned, but the large man’s head was lowered.
“Dalton…” Joel’s face appeared to not be working correctly, his jaw scrapping against bone and tendons when he tried to talk. “what’s…”
“Ah!” shouted one of the dark uniformed individuals in the crowd forming the circle around him and Dalton. “The great Joel Garret has finally joined us!” The man’s voice seemed synthetic in tone and cadence. They walked forward, dragging someone with them, then dropped her in a heap about ten feet in front of Joel.
He could now better make out his surroundings and summoned all his strength, but what little he had was resisted by someone or something behind him, holding his shoulders. A bolt of pain shattered his attempt at thought, and he hung his head waiting for the wave of nausea to pass before looking up at the hybrid, and Anna at his feet. It was then he realized the one in charge of the hundreds around him had a head in his hand. The blood from it painting the concrete in thin strips of red.
The canine featured head was frozen in a snarl…
Even with the pain surging through his mind, Joel’s brain connected the big man to his side lost in despair to what the hybrid was holding.
The one in charge saw the awakening in Joel’s eyes and smiled. Holding the head higher, particularly in Joel’s direction. “This was one of yours Joel Garret… she came here under your protection and by your orders. And now she will make a good trophy for the throne room.”