Babel Found

by Matthew James

  Susan launches himself at me and I let him. He digs his clawed fingers into my padded shoulders, piercing them. I feel him draw a small amount of blood, but pay it no attention.

  “You ever been to a fish fry?” I ask.

  He looks down at me as I quickly latch onto his sides. I don’t let him answer. I push with all my might and combust the both of us into a flaming inferno, screaming like a banshee the entire time. His shrill cry echoes mine in my head as he begs and pleads for me to release him, but I push even harder, blowing past my known threshold.

  My eyes again start to dance and my breathing goes shallow, but I push one final time and direct the flow of energy into my hands. As he lets go of me, I do the same to him, sending him spiraling into the air, back towards the choppy sea. I immediately collapse, trying my best to dig into my back pocket.

  Finding my saving grace, I fumble with the cap, eventually popping it off.

  This is what has me so unsettled. A small but very sharp needle greets me, making me break out in a nervous sweat. I really hate needles. This particular one is meant for something even worse than drawing blood.

  I plunge it into my neck, biting my lip hard enough to taste blood. The payload of liquid adrenaline is instantaneously delivered into my blood stream, getting the desired effect. I scream as my body quivers, shaking from the drug spiking my blood flow.

  After a few seconds, I unsteadily get to my feet and look up as another of the choppers whizzes by overhead. Then, I hear twin explosions and watch as two fall from the sky, on fire, dropping like stones. The Blackhawk banks sharply, nearly avoiding a lightning bolt. It originated from inside the twister, just like Nannot used to do.

  Damnit, I think, get out of there.

  I’m about to voice my concern through my comms, but don’t get the chance. Instead, a hole opens up beneath my feet and I drop, going for the ride of my life down the darkest and bumpiest waterless slide ever created. I try to signal for help, but as my head passes the entry hole, it quickly seals, cutting me off from any possible help.

  23

  Camp Arifjan, Kuwait

  Everyone inside the Blackhawk looked on in awe as a series of lightning bolts discharged from within the storm. One nearly struck the closest of the Vipers, causing it to turn away sharply. Then, one-by-one, the missiles fired only moments ago began to detonate.

  “Seriously,” Kane asked rhetorically, watching as more and more lightning strikes met the incoming missiles, “he’s knocking them out of midair?”

  “Holy shit!” One of the other pilots shouted over the radio. “We need to fall back!”

  Kane saw his uncle shake his head in disappointment, but not at the men. The situation as a whole was what bothered him. They had enough firepower to level a small city with just the attack helos. One man should have been easy to take down.

  “Try something harder for him to hit,” Kane said from his position behind the .50 cal.

  Carrack looked back and saw the weapon and nodded, quickly relaying the suggestion.

  “Roger that,” another of the pilots said, “going in for a sweep.”

  Two other Vipers confirmed and followed the first, all going in guns blazing. The attack choppers 20mm M197 Gatling cannon was like an airborne chainsaw, spewing up to 1500 rounds per minute. Everyone watched from behind as the three helo’s cannons burst to life, raking across the front of the cyclone. But from their distance, they couldn’t see if they were doing anything worth a damn.

  “Report,” Carrack said, watching as they did.

  “Not much to say, sir,” the lead pilot replied. “So far we aren’t making much of a dent. Some of the rounds are making it through, but we can’t get close enough to lay into him harder. The lightning is getting worse too.”

  Kane poked his head out the side door and saw exactly that. A bolt sizzled over one of the Vipers, causing it to bank right. Another hit home and obliterated the main rotor of the second closest chopper. The top-mounted engine exploded, sending deadly shrapnel everywhere. Then, all at once, the aircraft fell from the sky, dead in the air.

  They could all hear the shouted cries of the men on board. Mercifully, Kane saw the canopy explode and the pilots jettison themselves into the air, via ejection seats. The out-of-control helicopter smashed to pieces, turning into a fireball upon impact.

  As quickly as the first one was destroyed, another was struck, its tail rotor blowing apart. With the stabilizing rear rotor, it was sent into a dizzying spin as it too fell to the earth below. Unfortunately, that one’s cockpit stayed intact as the Viper slammed into the side of the command building. The pilots didn’t make it.

  Another flash of light drew Kane and Nicole’s gaze down to the ground. They expected to see a similar helo exploding, but instead saw something smaller, but just as deadly.

  A green aura burst from between rows of military hummers. The fact that the wave missed this grouping of vehicles wasn’t what caught their attention. It was Hank. They continued watching as a charred body got flung back towards the water, landing violently somewhere on the sandbar. As the Blackhawk fell back, away from the ever increasing storm, Hank came into view. Now directly above him, they could see him trying to stand, but looked to be having trouble.

  “Jarvla!” Nicole cursed, pointing down. “We need to help him!”

  Kane followed her finger and saw it. Hank quickly jabbed something into his neck, causing an instantaneous reaction. He jumped to his feet but didn’t do much else. Just standing was a miracle and it looked painful. They all knew the cost of using his power to that magnitude.

  “He’ll be fine,” Carrack said from the co-pilot’s seat. “Just a little pick-me-up.”

  Nicole looked at Kane. “Adrenalin injection,” he said, not going into it further.

  They both continued to watch Hank as he stood and looked their way. Then, he was gone, falling into a hole that wasn’t there before.

  As Nicole screamed Hank’s name, Kane watched the void quickly fill. The only evidence of a disturbance was a patch of missing asphalt. Now, only a circle of dirt was left.

  “Hank!”

  “We need to get there, now!” Nicole yelled, unclipping and heading for the cockpit. “Get us on the ground as—”

  A flash of light and a resounding boom interrupted her as the Blackhawk pitched hard, throwing her to the rear holds floor once again. She slid all the way to the right-side door, desperately clawing at the smooth metal flooring. But her fingernails found no purchase, having kept them short for years.

  Her legs fell away as the sky around them billowed and blustered with more wind. The shaking aircraft made it impossible to find a foothold this time and as a result, her waist and chest were next, continuing her departure. She tried one last time to find something to grasp, but couldn’t as she was sucked out into the open air.

  But instead of fearing her own death, all Nicole could think about was Hank.

  Somewhere

  I awake with a moan, feeling my head throb. I’m literally up to here with waking up in pain or fright—most of the time both. It’d be nice to just once awake relaxed and refreshed, but now is not the time to be so hopeful. Not about things I don’t have control over.

  Like this damn hole… Speaking of which.

  “Try not to move,” a voice says in the dark. “You hit your head pretty hard.”

  The voice is familiar—not in the normal way, however. It isn’t one I’ve heard, but one I was told about.

  “Terra?” I ask, seeing a shadow move off to my left.

  “How?” she asked, shocked that I know her name.

  Still on my back, I gingerly lean up on my elbows. “You left quite the impression on a colleague of mine.”

  The form steps closer. I try to activate my night vision, but can’t find my glasses. So instead, I ignite a small and easy to control flame, about the same effectiveness as a cheap keychain flashlight. It’s just bright enough to see by and won’t sap me of any of my strength. I look d
own and see my NVS4’s on the ground next to me bent and broken.

  Damn.

  “Todd?” she asks, getting my attention.

  I nod not caring whether or not my kidnapper can see it or not.

  She steps closer, revealing herself to me in the flesh. She’s beautiful, like an Italian swimsuit model, but her demeanor is mousy and timid. She’s not comfortable with what she’s doing or where she is.

  Or she’s not comfortable being around me.

  “Why did you just bury me alive?” I ask, sitting up.

  “You’re not dead, Mr. Boyd. We’re quite safe down here.”

  I look back and forth, only seeing walls around us. The space is about the size of a two car garage and perfectly round. It’s an odd shape to me and the look on my face must portray that.

  “A sphere is very strong and easy to create,” she explains, inching closer. “I do not have to concentrate as hard in order to make one.”

  “You did this?” I ask, already knowing she did. I just need her to keep talking while I recuperate and think of a plan. I notice that she isn’t as focused on the task. It actually sounds like she’s enjoying talking to me right now.

  Not at all like her siblings, I think, remembering that she did save Todd in the end.

  “Also Washington,” she said, looking hurt.

  “Why?” I ask, sitting up.

  “The master isn’t someone you say no to.”

  “You’re scared of him?” I ask, honestly interested in knowing why.

  “Yes,” she says, only a few feet away now. “We all are.”

  “Even Susan?”

  Her eyes squint. She doesn’t get the nickname for her brother.

  But it soon registers and she smiles and nods. “He is the one in contact with the master. We see the pain and anguish he feels when the master connects to his mind.”

  Interesting…

  “So he only contacts him?”

  She nods again but squints. “Why do you care?”

  I shrug. “I’m not sure he’ll be doing much of that anymore.”

  “What did you do to him?” she asks, more out of curiosity than anger.

  Feeling nothing hateful coming from her, I answer truthfully. “I may or may not have overcooked the filet.”

  This gets a snort out of her.

  “Is that funny to you?” I ask, confused at her reaction.

  “Your humor is, yes. As far as the feelings I have for Susanoo…” She thinks for a second. “Do you have anyone you’re close with—any family member that you care about, but don’t really like?”

  I nod. “We all have someone like that in our family trees I suppose.”

  “I love my family, Mr. Boyd, but that doesn’t mean I support them in what they do. At one time I went along with their plans without thought, blind to the end results. It’s all I was ever taught. We were the strongest—his pupils. We were made to fight and destroy.”

  “Made?” I ask, backing off on my plan to attack. I sit forward and listen, still trying to recover some. The fight with Susan really took it out of me and the adrenalin injection did nothing except keep me conscious. I’m still exhausted.

  “We were an unusual birth—”

  “Like your father and uncles—Thoth’s priests,” I say, connecting the ominous parallel.

  She nods. “But unlike them, we were not taught to defend our homeland. We were taught to defile it.”

  I blink hard and shake my head. “I…I don’t understand.”

  “It’s hard to explain, but there is always evil in the world, Mr. Boyd. Our master has been behind most of it since the beginning of man’s first major leap. We were his next step in the downfall of An’tala, in case our father didn’t succeed.”

  “Did he actually succeed?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “Only in part. He failed when he met you.”

  Oops. So when I defeated Nannot, it caused his master to come after me himself, through the Judges.

  I look into her sparkling eyes, and again, she shows no ill will towards me. It’s like she’s a completely different entity than her siblings. It’s unnerving and I’d normally never ask as much but…

  “Why are you telling me all this?”

  “We have your friend, Dr. Fehr.”

  My eyes narrow and the flame in my right hand brightens slightly.

  “I don’t want this, I swear it. I’ve spent time with humanity—hundreds—thousands of lifetimes. I’ve seen the beauty in your world. I do what I must so that I too, may live!”

  I regain control and bring down the light some. Terra relaxes as well.

  “I need you to come with me.”

  I laugh aloud. “Why would I ever agree to that?” I know I could probably outmatch her. Formulating a plan, I look up and see only solid earth.

  Shit.

  “Because…” She looks me in the eyes again, showing me the hurt in hers. “Dr. Fehr will die unless you go to the Citadel.”

  24

  Camp Arifjan, Kuwait

  A hand latched onto Nicole’s flailing wrist and squeezed, halting her plunge. Kane held on for dear life but slipped like Nicole did. His large body fell from inside the chopper, but hit the right landing strut with a bang, almost making him let go.

  “Hang on!” he yelled, against the maelstrom swirling around them. He had a good hold on her, but any help from Nicole would be much appreciated. Locking his ankles around the thick strut, Kane wrapped his left elbow around another section, doing what he could to keep the two of them aloft.

  If it had been his still-healing left hand trying to grip Nicole’s wrist, he would have already dropped her. His grip strength hadn’t returned yet. Or ever, he thought, recalling what the doctor had said.

  “You have a severe form of arthritis caused by the blow your knuckles and hand received. You were lucky enough to only sustain minor breakage, but the joints took a beating. Things like this… They don’t heal all that quickly,” the doctor looked up from Kane’s hand and met his eyes, “or ever.”

  Kane resigned himself to being forced to change his fighting habits and his firearms. Instead, he now toted the Japanese katana he acquired from a fallen foe, hoping to not have to engage in too many bouts of fistfights while he continued to mend. It’s also the reason he got the new Desert Eagle variant. Same amount of damage, zero stress on his damaged hand.

  Speaking of stress…

  Facing up, he struggled to look over his shoulder. The ground was quickly approaching but at a sharp angle. The pilot seemed to be heading for open water. He knew they could jump—let go, in their cases—once they were close enough. It wouldn’t be a graceful entry into the gulf, but it’d be a hell of a lot better than the tarmac.

  “Kane!”

  He felt Nicole slip a little and squeezed even harder, arresting her fall. Both their hands were sweaty from the hot, humid air, making it twice as difficult a task to hold on. If she’d have weighed as much as Hank did when he had to hold him up over the trap door at Site A, she’d already be a goner.

  “Seriously, Nic!” he yelled. “How many times can one person get tossed from a helo?” It was the second time in a matter of only a few minutes that he had to save her life.

  Just another day at the office…

  He couldn’t see Nicole from where he hung, which was good. He didn’t want to see her face if he dropped her. It was something burning into his mind right now. Not only was Hank missing and possibly dead, but Nicole was about to meet the same fate if he failed her here.

  The Blackhawk shook violently again, but not from another explosion. The engine was seizing up, causing them to drop even faster.

  “Let go!” Nicole yelled.

  “What!” he shouted back.

  “Now, damnit!”

  He trusted Nicole as much as Hank. They were the only ones besides Olivia that he had complete confidence in. So, cringing as he did, he let go of Nicole. Without her added weight, Kane could readjust his body and look. H
e watched as she fell from forty feet up, plummeting to the water below. Thank God, no asphalt. She struck feet first and disappeared under a bevy of large waves.

  Having no real way—or desire—to climb back in, Kane also let go, falling like a backwards missile. He did what he could to make himself more aerodynamic, but he miserably failed. He could only laugh inwardly as he bashed into an onrushing wave, imitating the Epic Fail videos of high dives gone wrong.

  He entered shoulder first, turning his face away from the painful, concrete-like water. If they were any higher, he may have even lost consciousness from the impact. Thankfully, he didn’t, aided by the roiling waves. Thanks a bunch Susan. They actually shoved him forward a little as he slipped through, lessening the blow.

  As he sank, he let the current take him, trying not to overreact to falling from the skid of a crash-landing military Blackhawk off the coast of a foreign country after being struck by lightning created by a demigod from Atlantis.

  Why would I need to be freaking out about that?

  Instead, he used his practiced training and tried to remain calm, only surfacing inbetween waves. As he did, he saw a form swimming towards him farther out to sea. Had Nicole drifted that far out? It’s not until he heard a sloshing sound behind him that he knew the person coming towards him wasn’t a pretty blonde.

  It wasn’t a person at all…

  He spun, treading water in his duplicate BSA. Nicole was already in the waist deep shallows, having found the footing to walk the rest of the way up the incline of sand.

  “Shit, shit, shit,” he said to himself as the other figure went under. “Fish-Man is still alive.”

  As the notion of a marine-based man-thing coming for him sank in, he did the only thing he could think of… He cursed some more and freaked out, kicking for shore. If a shark had been around, it would have found him as a tasty thrashing treat. He made it halfway, just enough to feel the bottom, when a large hand gripped his shoulder and forced him under. He didn’t fight it, though. This was the creature’s domain after all. Kane was the trespasser. But he wasn’t helpless either.