Running on Empty (Journeyman Book 6)

by Golden Czermak

  “I plan to sleep for a very long time once all this is over,” Evans said.

  “Me too, David,” Gage replied. “Me too.”

  Joey was standing there, eyeing Quileth suspiciously.

  “Whatever is the matter, Joey?” Quileth responded warily, though he wiped at his noise and used a finger to polish his teeth, just in case anything was stuck there.

  “Oh, nothing,” he replied. “I was just checking to see if you had a hookah stored somewhere under that leather armor. It doesn’t leave too much to the imagination…”

  Quileth reached down to his utility belt and removed a small, rectangular object. Pressing an orange button on the side of it, a tiny tube emerged from the tip. He placed his mouth over it and took in a couple quick breaths before puffing a large ring of cinnamon scented smoke over Joey’s face, making him cough once.

  “Of course I left the damn hookah at home; what do you think this is, the sixteenth century?”

  Joey coughed again as Quileth moved away with Evans, Gage helping himself to a few ardent chortles at Joey’s expense. The two of them stopped when the last figure began to make its way across from the other ship.

  “Thank you for having us on your ship, Mr. Mosely,” Jane said as she stepped aboard.

  “Councilor,” Joey replied with a tilt of his head, “you and those who have come with you are always welcome. And please, call me Joey; I don’t think I can ever get used to being a mister.”

  “Of course, Joey,” Jane replied cheerfully.

  Gage was looking around, having only counted six councilors coming across. There should have been seven; the absence of a stony faced gargoyle was most apparent.

  “Jane,” he said, “I can’t help but notice that Drogir…”

  “… Is not coming,” Jane replied. Her voice was full of disappointment rather than anger at the fact he wasn’t there.

  “But…”

  “He left the Council after our last meeting; his disagreements were too deeply-rooted I suppose.”

  “But that makes so little sense,” Gage said. “He’d assisted us all the way up to the end, only to turn his back on us all at the very last moment?”

  She nodded, still full of unhappiness.

  “I am not angry at him,” she clarified, though her face may have shown that from time to time. “Stress like this can often make us do things we will regret later. It was my hope that he would be here, presenting a wholly united front, yet…”

  “We still are united,” Gage stated, “there is no doubt about that at all. Perhaps one day he will realize the error of his ways. I just hope when that time comes he is able to forgive himself, just as we’ve done here today.”

  Jane was in agreement.

  “Yes, forgiveness…” she said, taking a deep breath. “You are right, of course.” Her eyes shifted around the deck. “Tell me, are you ready for us to get to the final destination?”

  “Oh yes, I’ve been that way for pretty much the entire time,” Gage replied. “I just didn’t want ya to hear me ask ‘are we there yet?’ all the damn time. But that said: are we there yet?”

  “It isn’t far now.”

  Jane laughed as the three of them joined the others who were mingling on the deck. As she looked across to each and every face on the ship, and then around into the surrounding skies, her heart felt good and sure. She wasn’t naïve, nor were the others that were there. They all knew not everyone would see the sun come up tomorrow, but they would today and for the next hour at least they were friends, they were family, they were Journeymen.

  The blast of countless engines roared and the flapping of thousands of wings slashed the air as the alliance thundered their way to the east, toward Dajjal and their destiny.

  SCREAMS FILLED THE dawn skies as nearly two million panicked citizens found themselves faced with an infernal tide that was sweeping across the land, as if an enormous sluice had been opened in the north. The armies of the great demon continued in a southerly direction past the ancient city of Beirut, but a swell went crashing to the west, spilling into the city center and filling the streets with an indomitable terror that rushed all the way to the bloodied coastline.

  Dark shapes were moving throughout the gloom, hiding the vast and nameless horrors that Dajjal brought to bear. Anything living in their path was ended, and by claw, tooth, or blade everything was rendered to pulp.

  Dajjal himself was not difficult to locate. He rode like a ship on the sea, upon a massive carriage hauled with thick metal chains. They were drawn by monstrous beasts of burden, their hideously swollen heads cracked with rotting skin. Above the caravan, on tall and flexible posts positioned in each of the corners, were banners that fluttered majestically in the wind. They were made of human skin, flayed ribbons of flesh decorated with warding to strengthen and protect the structure from magical attacks as they advanced.

  And advance they did. Time passed and the city burned with such ferocity that it gave reason for the sun to not rise. The glow was already the shade of a hellish dawn and black swells of smoke rose to keep the world blanketed in the shadows of night.

  The host was now passing the airport, destruction in its wake. Dajjal sent wendigos to scour every inch of the path behind for anyone they might have missed while forward, he sent a horde of large trolls to clear the way, routing any survivors. They rushed the buildings, breaking through the stone walls as if they were paper. Bodies, both alive and dead, were tossed from the clouds of debris into the waiting jaws of hell hounds, werebeasts, and other ravenous things that defied description.

  “We are close, Morax,” said Dajjal as he emerged from the caravan onto a balcony. He smelled the air and looked mighty, adorned with his kingly treasures. Though for all the power of the five, he needed the sixth to see his plans all the way through.

  “Yes, Your Grace,” came Morax’s insipid voice, his equally depraved body close behind. “The end has indeed come for the Earth. Your glory is on the rise.”

  They both paused, listening to the sounds of their success in the screams of humans and the roars of dark creatures which caused them.

  “We need to up the volume,” Dajjal told Morax, afraid that his symphony was going to get stale. “We must ensure that all this suffering is remembered. That it is not just heard here, as eventually there will be no one left to listen, but across other worlds and even throughout time. All shall tremble at the mere thought of me and to say my name will be analogous to death!”

  Morax smiled evilly as the trolls broke through several tall buildings ahead.

  “Brace yourself, Journeymen,” Dajjal cried out. “You are about to see what the power of a true God can wreak upon your precious little world.”

  THE COUNCIL HAD gathered in the forecastle to have what would be their final meeting. Their destination could be seen through the windows as dawn started to break across the horizon. To the north, fires burned along the entire coastline.

  “Thank you all for coming on this little... excursion,” Jane said to the other councilors, the closest being Evans and Quileth to her left and right, respectively.

  Tyrol had taken up against the right wall, leaning with his hairy arms crossed over his broad chest. Timothy stood close by, grasping at the rail beneath the windows for support while Allete was on the opposite side of the room, sitting on the floor with her head wedged between her knees.

  “Megiddo will be reached soon,” Jane continued. “Dajjal and his forces will likely arrive at the same time.”

  “Here we are at last,” said Tyrol, shuffling to a more comfortable position. I bid you listen to my words but do not despair: the power Dajjal wields is incredible.”

  “Yet ours is as great, or greater,” said Quileth. “Yet, for all our strength, victory cannot be achieved in full unless the demon is undone.”

  “That is our only option,” Evans said. “One that must be achieved.”

  “No matter the cost,” Allete muttered.

  “Yes,” replied Timot
hy.

  “He must not be allowed to take possession of the blade,” Quileth resumed. “If that happens then all will fall and it will fall quickly. If he is destroyed… then the blight on the Earth will be removed forever, along with the imminent threat of annihilation.”

  “With who knows how many more to replace him,” Allete threw in, trying to avoid hopelessness.

  “There will always be a shadow that falls on the world,” Tyrol said comfortingly. “Let’s remember, however depressing it may be, that Dajjal is only one of many evils in existence – Lucifer and Andhakara notwithstanding – but it can always be driven away when there is light to fight it.”

  Allete felt a flood of hope wash over her and nodded.

  “Do you think Dajjal is afraid of failing?” she asked.

  “With an ego as massive as his, I don’t think that has even capable of thinking such things,” Evans replied, giving his forearm a quick scratch. “Which I see as his downfall and our gain. He is blinded by his own pride, and that is precisely why Gage will have the opportunity to strike him down.”

  “We must support him in this task,” Jane continued, all eyes returning to her. “We shall meet Dajjal’s forces head on in order to give Gage the best chance for success. Even though some on our team have managed to skirt death, there is absolutely no guarantee of survival for any of us. The only thing that must survive is Gage…”

  “Long enough to deliver a swift machete blade to the demon’s face,” Tyrol grunted.

  They all fell silent, the end of all debates reached. Everyone in that room knew what to do, now just waiting for their arrival to do it.

  “DON’T YOU THINK we should have gone to the meeting?” Adrienne asked as she rounded a corner on Deck Four, reaching the spot just outside the engine room.

  “Part of me says yes,” Gage answered, following close behind with Joey just ahead of him, “but the rest says I’ll be glad to see mandatory meetings in the rear view mirror. I almost forgot how much I hated them.”

  “Surprised you’ve been able to make it this far,” Ady said, settling in on one side of the corridor. Her rucksack made a thud as it hit the floor.

  “We all know that I’ve had my moments,” Gage replied, plopping down right beside her after setting his backpack against the wall. Once settled, he gently thumped the back of his head against the bulkhead while listening to the droning hum. “Glad this spot is quiet though… well, empty.”

  “Thank goodness for the noise then,” Joey said cheerfully, taking up a spot on the opposite side. “So, you two ready for this?”

  “Just like another day at the office, right?” Gage asked.

  “Yup,” Adrienne replied, giggling.

  “Well, speaking of hard work,” Gage said seriously, “do ya have the whisky?”

  “You know I do!” she replied surely, producing a gleaming bottle from her rucksack. “J should have the shot glasses too.”

  Both of them watched as Joey dug deep into his front pocket, pulling out three plastic shot glasses. They were crumpled pretty badly.

  “Still useable though!” Joey exclaimed with a dry smile.

  “There’s just one more thing that will make this perfect,” said Gage, his eyes wide with anticipation. He reached deep into his backpack and plucked out the plastic container Kyle had given him,

  Opening it, the pancakes inside it were steaming slightly from the microwave. Gage began to tear the golden discs apart, piece by piece into bite sized nuggets.

  Adrienne smiled as she poured out shots into the crinkled cups, handing one over to Joey, then Gage. In return, Gage gave each of them a piece of pancake so that when they were done each had a shot in one hand and fluffy goodness in the other.

  “To Marcus,” Joey said, holding up his shot, “and to everyone else who had their candle extinguished by Dajjal.”

  “To life,” said Adrienne, lifting her glass. “We’ll avenge everyone.”

  “You’re damn right we will,” Gage said, at last raising his. “It’s about time we knocked Dajjal down a few stories. Besides, death isn't so bad from what we've seen; it’s like the beginning of a brand new adventure.”

  THE LOW SUN was blood red, veiled in not only the mists of morning, but a haze of smoke and ash that cast a dreadful light on the gathered forces. The alliance had arrived, their armies coming up from the south, while Dajjal’s host was mustered both in the air and on the ground to the north, advancing slowly like a blight.

  Dajjal stood atop his carriage, Morax by his side, surveying the wastes around him; cities, land, and the people that resided upon them were reduced to a miserable shade of brown that threatened to cover the entire world. The demon’s attention then shifted to the alliance, spanning the entire Southern horizon. The Odyssey was leading at the center of it – the brightest beacon of hope against the sky.

  “There,” Dajjal said, pointing toward the airship. “Let them hear me.”

  Morax stooped low, gesturing his arms in a strange manner as he weaved a spell to amplify Dajjal’s voice.

  Aboard the Odyssey, the skies seemed to darken as a red glow surrounded those on the ship.

  “What devilry is this?” Timothy asked.

  “Augmentation spell by the looks of it,” Quileth observed. “We must have caught Dajjal’s…”

  “I know that you have all come here to fight me, the one who promises suffering for your world and all others,” came the demon’s voice, profound like the wind before a storm. “Know that all of your work, though commendable, is wasted. You cannot defeat me – none of you can. I will give you one chance to either lay down your arms and retreat, or join in the ranks of the night that will spread across this chunk of rock until all is covered in darkness. There is no other option. I am your Lord, Deliverer, and God.”

  “Someone’s a bit full of himself,” Gage muttered, and Dajjal heard him. “That ain’t gonna happen, DJ.”

  Gage turned to Jane who was standing a few feet away, and said, “It's go time.”

  Jane raised her hand; in it was a flare gun, glinting in the red dawn. Pulling the trigger, she loosed a single white flare high into the brightening sky. It flew from the ship, its long and graceful arch catching in the eyes of all before shattering in a burst of glittering stars.

  “There is your answer, demon!” Jane said with revulsion. “Journeymen, you all know what to do. Show these dark things the meaning of pain!”

  There came sudden and intense screams, the fierce battle cries of thousands, and monstrous roars that spread out from the Odyssey like a thunderclap. It was a sign that the greatest battle the world had ever seen had begun.

  Brennan and Meriden rode forth on the wind to the sounds of Elvish trumpets blaring. From the transports and flying beasts alike, troops descended, advancing once ground-borne toward the enemy while the aerial support looped high and settled into attack positions.

  Out of the north the dark tide advanced like boiling water, thousands of creatures surging over the hills and anything else in their way.

  Soon, both light and dark came crashing together. The very air exploded with streaks of light, sound, and the whirl of a hundred spells cast at once. Rune stones were lobbed from fists and machines like great bombs. Arrows like a hailstorm came hurtling down, bouncing off of magic shields, though some found their way into their intended flesh.

  A copse of leshay advanced, their pale skin bristling with sharp arrows while their dark green eyes glowed menacingly. They grew to the size of towering trees and with the strength of many shook the ground with their steps, slowing the demonic advance with their powerful vines.

  Packs of kitsune howled as they darted amidst the demons, accompanied by slithering drakes, belching rivers of magma along the way. They hurtled toward the thick defensive line of tree spirits, using their nine tails to summon fire and lightning from the tips. The foxes leapt, spiraling forward like burning saw blades to cut through the living forest, leaving whatever was left behind shrieking for the dr
akes to burn away. With the path clear, wendigos were able to stream through to the forces beyond, shredding man and beast like stalks of wheat for harvest. The screams were horrific and lasting, blood staining the ground.

  Overhead, the chaos was no less intense; Brennan was cheerfully engaged, while Meriden was cautious yet confident.

  “Take down as many as you can!” she commanded and the monsters bellowed. “Come on Brennan, let’s show them how it's done in the Otherworld.”

  “Aye, Your Majesty!” he cried.

  Their onset was furious, hastening toward their dark counterparts. The allies rushed from all sides while Meriden and Brennan rose in swift spirals from the ground. All became locked in a battle of feathers and hide, sharp talons, and piercing bites. It was a terrible sight and many were slain then fell, yet it was glorious to witness.

  Back on the ground, a company of trolls barreled through lines of foot soldiers, smashed under heavy feet or beaten to death with sweeping blows of mighty obsidian hammers. The trolls wore armor that had been fashioned from skulls and bones of the vanquished, strengthened by wards etched into each forehead. Easily they deflected any incoming arrow fire, allowing any soldiers that survived to be lifted into the waiting mouths of the trolls, where their crushing teeth finished the job.

  Mages responded, working to stem the advancing trolls with spells that shattered their armor, allowing lances, swords, and a flurry of arrows to sink deep into their unprotected hides. Joining the charge were bears and other beast shifters, lunging forward with the might and memory of their fallen crew. A black ooze flowed out from the troll’s wounds, pooling on the ground like crude oil, which caught aflame and sent more smoke skyward to block out the sun.

  The battle continued as Dajjal watched from beneath his fluttering banners of skin, their soft sound and faint scent making it easy to consider his triumph. His eyes grew wide and brighter as the darkness his forces brought deepened, though one bright spark against the sky prevented total darkness from taking over.