Dean asked the children. “What’s going on?”
The children were lost in their own heads. So exciting.
My heart is pounding.
Like hunting.
We have not hunted.
But it feels…
Like hunting.
What do we tell them?
Maybe the truth.
We don’t know the truth.
Who is Arthur? Why do they say Arthur?
There again. Arthur. Arthur says eat.
“Kids?” broke in Eliza. The pucks looked at her dumbly. Frustrated, Eliza started taking off her helmet.
Dean grabbed her wrist. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to find out for myself.”
He lifted his visor. “Stop. You don’t know what will -“
She handed him her helmet. “Then don’t let anything happen to me.” She pulled his visor back down and looked at the six that she could see as they took another step. As one they turned and looked at her. In the same instant Eliza felt as though all twelve of their hands had latched onto her. It was almost real, like they were actually firmly holding her. She gasped with the sensation and her lungs felt suddenly crushed. Again they stepped toward the pumpers as her mind filled with sensations of desire and hunger and curiosity and fear. There was no language but for one sentence: ARTHUR SAYS EAT. ARTHUR SAYS EAT.
MacAfee’s heads-up display told him that Eliza had taken off her helmet. “What the fuck is she doing? Dean, what the fuck is she doing?”
Dean tried to put her helmet back on but she smacked it out of his hands, sending it across the room. Hansel started laughing and then Gretel joined in. “Funny,” said Hansel.
“She’s like a puppet,” said Hansel.
Eliza started taking jerking steps forward like a drunken marionette, saying, “Arthur says eat. Arthur says eat.” She smiled a toothy grin and then launched herself at Dean, her jaw snapping open and closed. He fended her off while Hansel and Gretel watched.
Should we eat him?
Dean quickly grabbed one of Eliza’s arms, spun her around and snapped her into a full nelson and she continued to kick and try to break away, her teeth snapping open and shut while saying, “Arthur says eat! Arthur says eat!” He looked at the suddenly hungry looking Hansel and Gretel and barked, “Don’t even think about it. Put her damn helmet on.”
Outside, Maggie Tender broadcast to everyone, “Uh, they’re getting kind of close.”
MacAfee said into his mic, “KK, go cover the pumpers. Everyone, if they get within fifty feet, warning shots. Another step and shoot to kill.”
Kelly climbed down from the coal car and walked carefully to the pumpers.
Inside, Gretel tried to put the helmet back on Eliza as she thrashed her head around. Sanders came running up the stairs, saw the situation and shoved Eliza down, sitting on her chest as she repeatedly batted the helmet away. She seemed to be in agony as she pleaded, “Arthur says eat!”
That’s when the six pucks broke and ran toward the pumpers. KK fired off a warning shot and the pucks pulled up short, all eighteen of them ducking as one. Whatever spell they had over Eliza was briefly broken and her thrashing stopped. Dean slapped the helmet over her head and snapped the buckle. She instantly hugged him to her, saying, “Oh God. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
The eighteen pucks suddenly hissed and charged as one. The humans opened fire. In three loud bloody seconds, they slaughtered the creatures, each absorbing multiple bullets. In the silence of the aftermath Hansel and Gretel screamed as though they were burning and thrashed about on the floor; their movements matching those of the wounded pucks in the dirt. A second round of shooting finished it. Hansel and Gretel stopped their screaming and instead, held each other in terror. “They died!” cried Gretel. “We felt them die!”
The Vicar and his Deacons had joined the others in the command car as they watched the scene unfold.
“Stunning that they waited as long as they did to shoot them,” said Thompson.
“Clearly they haven’t had much interchange with the devils,” said drone driver Gallagher.
The Vicar said, “God rest their souls.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A Change of Command
“That was a fucking disaster,” snapped MacAfee as he pulled off his helmet and paced before the assembled crew. Dark had descended. They stood mostly in line outside the train. The steam was up and the building pressure was automatically released from the pistons with a loud whoosh. He turned to Hernandez. “Action report on my desk in one hour. We need to completely revise our tactics. That cannot happen again.”
“Yes, sir.”
The colonel turned to Eliza. “Ms. Sherr, can I ask what you were thinking when you pulled off your helmet? Your action created a diversion that those fuckers took full advantage of.”
Eliza was exhausted but she straightened her spine saying, “I’m sorry. It was a mistake. I was trying to do what you are doing right now, Colonel, trying to communicate more effectively.”
MacAfee pointed at Hansel and Gretel. “That’s what they’re for!”
Eliza glanced at the children who were still deeply distraught over what they had experienced and said, “It wasn’t working.”
“So you decided to put all of us in danger by winging it? What the hell does Arthur says eat -”
Gretel interrupted, “Your helmet, quick!”
“Excuse me?”
“Put your helmet back on, Dustin MacAfee!”
“Are you threatening me, you vile little...” MacAfee’s posture suddenly went ramrod straight.
Eliza looked at Gretel. “No. Leave him alone.”
Hansel said, “It’s not Gretel. It’s them.” He pointed at the fence. With night vision, the crew saw dozens of bright eyes staring at them through the skeletons, with more of them coming every second.
With a slurred voice, MacAfee said, “Mommy.” Then he slipped his pistol out of its holster, placed the barrel under his chin and rained his brains all over the desert floor.
Dean didn’t hesitate. “Mount up now! Blakely, get this thing moving!”
There was a mad scramble as everyone ran to the train, bunching up on the entrances. Hernandez, KK and Green opened fire in the general direction of the fence. In moments, the locomotive’s wheels were trying to gain traction and slowly slipping on the rails. The soldiers were the last onboard as the headlight blazed a path on the empty rails ahead. Everyone continued to lay down suppressing fire from the windows as Hernandez scrambled back up to her position on the top of the engine. The pucks beyond the fence disappeared from view. With few targets, the shooting slowed down and finally stopped.
“We left the colonel,” Green said to KK.
Kile flicked a bit of bloody skull off his shoulder. “I doubt he minds.”
“That was a twist,” said Ensign Palmer with shock in his eyes. “I mean one moment he’s cussing Eliza about uncovering and next he’s blowing his brains out. Ironic, am I right?”
Green shoved his elbow into the bosun’s throat and pushed the man against a wall. “The hell’s wrong with you, asshole? We just lost the colonel.”
“Enough!” yelled Dean. “Back off, Sergeant.” He clicked his mic. “Hernandez, get back to observation. Sergeant Green will replace you on the engine.” He looked at the sergeant who had flipped up his visor, a questioning look on his face. Dean flipped it back down. “You’re trying to figure the line of authority right now, Sergeant. I’ll sort it out with Hernandez. Go take your post.” Green hesitated for a moment longer then left. Except for the sound of the wheels clicking on the rails, the room was dead silent. Kile, KK, Palmer, Cinders and Jamesbonds kept their weapons trained outside. Cookie, Eliza and the pucks seemed to be in mild shock. Sanders began to speak, but Dean cut him off. “Save it ‘til Dez gets here.” The room remained silent until Hernandez entered, her gun at rest but her body sprung for action. “We
gotta go back. We don’t leave our dead. We go back. That’s an order. We get the colonel and then we turn this bitch around. This mission is scrubbed.”
Cinders jumped in. “She’s right, Cap. This is bullshit. Bullshit.” He pointed at Hansel and Gretel and said, “I say we shoot these two and turn the fuck around.”
Eliza put herself between Cinders and the pucks.
Dean let the conversation lay there for a long beat and then said, “While I agree with you in spirit, Chief, I don’t condone sending more to die to collect the already dead. We’re not going back.”
Dez clicked her mic. “Blakely, stop the train.”
“Belay that order, Marshall,” said Dean.
Cinders aimed his Punisher at the pucks. “Bye bye.” And was just as quickly disarmed by Dean who twisted the gun out of the man’s hands, pulled the clip and racked the chambered round onto the deck. Dean looked at the astonished man square in the eyes and said, “Retire to your quarters, Cinders.” He handed the gun to Sanders and turned to Palmer. “Ensign, help Cinders to his quarters. Cookie, get him a bite to eat.”
Cinder’s fire went out. “I’m, I’m sorry, sir. Don’t know what came over me.” He stepped down the stairs, Cookie saying, “A little food in you and you’ll be right as rain.”
Hernandez said, “We’re turning this thing around, Captain.”
“We’re not, Chief.”
“This is not a democracy, Captain Dean. We are turning around.” She keyed her mic and said, “Marshall Blakely. I order you to bring this train to a stop and reverse her direction.”
There was a pause and then Wen said, “Is that an order from Captain Dean?”
“No, it’s an order from me. The order of command puts me in charge of this mission. I’m ordering you to reverse course.”
There was another pause. “But Captain Dean is in charge of the train. Is this your wish, Captain?”
Dean keyed his mic and said, “Please proceed in our westerly direction, Marshall. The Chief and I are working things out.”
Hernandez brought her weapon up and pointed it at Dean. “Listen, motherfucker. I’m not fucking around here. Turn the train around.” Hernandez suddenly found herself with four guns pointed at her by the captain’s crew. Corporal Kelly kept her gun pointed toward the floor. Hernandez, with her gun still pointed at Dean said, “Corporal?”
KK shrugged, “Like you said, Chief. It’s not a democracy.”
Hernandez’s eye’s narrowed and she whispered, “Bitch,” under her breath.
Dean said, “For the time being, Chief, I’m going to ask Mr. Kile to hold onto your weapon.”
She calmly put the safety on her gun and handed it to Kile. “This is mutiny.”
“We can let the courts figure that out when we get home.”
“We’re not getting home.” Hernandez turned and walked down the stairs.
Dean said, “Mr. Kile and Mr. Boonmee will accompany you, Chief. Gentlemen, please make sure that Chief Warrant Officer Hernandez is comfortable. Ask Cookie to get her a bite as well.”
“Yes, sir,” said Kile, as he and Jamesbonds followed the soldier down the stairs.
“So we go on.” Sanders stated the fact rather than the question.
Dean turned to Eliza, “Do you have an opinion, Doctor Sherr?”
“We would turn around to what end?”
Dean looked at the pucks. “And you two? Do you perceive more danger ahead than behind?”
“Danger to whom?” asked Gretel, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You killed so many.”
Dean frowned and said, “Gretel, I’m sorry it was so frightening.”
There was a long pause before Hansel said, “Take off your helmet, Stewart Dean.”
Dean stood still without making a move either way.
Gretel said, “Please take off your helmet, Stewart. We need to show you something.”
Dean lifted his hands to the strap.
“Skipper, don’t,” said Sanders, his hand making the slightest movement toward his holstered pistol as he scanned the eyes of the pucks for trouble.
Dean put a gentle hand up to stay Sander’s concern. Before he unbuckled, Gretel said, “He will be safe. You will be safe.” He took the helmet off and as his perception adjusted to the world without the device’s protection, his mind filled with the combined consciousness of the children. It was at once fearful and full of need for a figure of authority and control. The emotions overwhelmed Dean’s own and he felt his chest tighten, involuntary tears fill his eyes and deep sorrow enveloped him. Flashes of bullets entering a body jolted his own sense memories: he’d been shot twice, blown up, and bitten by Fiends. He felt again the fear, the surprise, the punch, the need to take cover, even if under a leaf. He doubled over involuntarily and Sanders put a hand on him, steadying him, “Please, Captain, put your helmet back on.” Dean waved the man off and then felt another consciousness enter the fray. Eliza had taken her helmet off again. Her concern for him and the children swirled through the mix, muddying the message that the children were sending and they pushed their thoughts harder. Like an instant replay of the recent events, he felt the minds of puck after puck snuffed out - terror, shear terror, pain and confusion, the blazing light and noise of guns, the wet snapping sounds of flesh and bone tearing, shattering bodies, and the lights of consciousness going out one by one and… nothing. Profound nothing. Eliza moaned with the agony and despair of it. Hansel and Gretel bawled out loud with the misery of it. Dean, who had witnessed or had been personally responsible for so much slaughter during his life, couldn’t equate it to anything he had ever known. For the first time in his career as a merchant of death, as an artist, maestro, servant of death, he finally comprehended what the reaper reaped. As Eliza began to cry, it took all he had not to break down and join her.
“Stew?” questioned Sanders, deep concern in his voice. Others in the room were paralyzed with indecision.
Dean continued to wave his first mate off. “It’s okay. Okay.” He put a hand on Eliza’s shoulder and he was suddenly transported to a different level of perception, impossible to describe, not so much as between himself and Eliza but something far more intimate. Countless invisible hands seem to touch him, offering the reassurance that a baby might feel in the loving arms of its parents. He felt unsteady on his feet even as he sensed his body feeling lighter than air. He countered it by crouching, by offering comforting touches to Hansel and Gretel who had already crouched feebly to the floor. The physical contact with them only served to intensify the sensations. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” he found himself saying not from conviction but to ground all of them in some sense of reality. He perceived gratefulness from the children; the burden of so much anguish lifting, and then something unexpected: Eliza’s heart was beating in a way that touched his own. He could feel the rhythm of it and his own heartbeat naturally lined up with hers, drumming in tandem. Warmth flowed from her in a way that he had only felt once; a fraction of this, a lifetime ago when he fell in love with his wife. He looked in Eliza’s eyes and she back at him. She didn’t flinch. Instead, the vessel that contained her every thought about him opened like a flower in a time-lapse video and he became almost instantly erect with intense arousal. Eliza, with a feeling of deep growing warmth in her gut, was reflecting the same arousal in return. The twins suddenly began laughing, and she broke their eye contact with a raised eyebrow at Dean that didn’t judge, but was instead a look of happy amusement. In an instant, as the children pulled back, the cluster of emotions suddenly cut off.
“Stewart? Are you in there?” Sanders waved his hand in front of the captain’s face.
Dean blinked at his first mate and stood awkwardly, covering his still pulsing erection while clearing his throat, “I’m okay. Really. It’s okay.” He composed himself and spoke to the pucks as quietly as the noisy train would allow. “I’m sorry you two. I’m sorry that you experienced that back there. I know you know death. Hansel
, you experience it gleefully every time you summon a bird to those very sharp teeth of yours. Killing any sentient thing comes with great cost. You must know that it may happen again. That it will likely happen again.” Then he spoke louder for all to hear. “Unless we figure out a better way to communicate with the pucks out there, it will happen again. The colonel wasn’t wrong about that.” He looked around the room and then focused back on Gretel and Hansel. “Let’s not forget. Those pucks were hunting. They were using the same diversionary tactics as a wolf pack. No matter what, no matter how hard you tried to communicate, they froze you out. They weren’t interested in parley, they were interested in eating or God only knows.” He slipped his helmet on and keyed his mic. “This is your captain. We are going to carry on with our mission. Going back is certain death. As of this moment, I am taking command of this operation.” He looked at Corporal Kelly, who shrugged in acquiescence. He paused to let Green break in if he was going to, then continued, “As before, Chief Hernandez will be responsible for maintaining our military readiness. To put distance between us and the pucks, we will risk travel by night. I intend to reach Tucson and hopefully more water by first light. Any questions?”
Blakely keyed in, “Uh, yeah. We’re hungry up here. What’s Cookie got going?”
People laughed in the observation room and the tension dissipated like the smoke they left behind. Without being asked, everyone returned to his or her individual duties.
Eliza stepped close to Dean and said, “I’m so sorry. I mean about before, trying to bite you. I had no control. That wasn’t me.”
“I know. I get it.”
“I don’t know who Arthur is, but I had an insatiable need to eat.”
Dean smiled, “Trust me, I got it. It’s okay. We just need to be really careful about letting them in. Now, about that other thing.” He was still covering his only slightly receding erection.
She gave him a warm smile and squeezed his hand with meaning while mouthing, “Wow.” She turned to Hansel and Gretel. “Let’s go downstairs kids. We need to eat.”
Children Of Fiends: Book 2 of the Of Sudden Origin saga Page 16