by Ben Hale
"Thanks," Wolf said to Linda once they were clear.
She flashed a dazzling smile. "Least I could do." Then her humor faded. "You made it sound pretty grim."
Wolf nodded. "We need to move fast."
She quickened her pace. "We will."
She settled in at her desk and began making calls while Wolf ducked outside. For a long moment he stared at the Dark on the horizon. After what his team had experienced he could only imagine what would occur if it reached the base.
Then an alarm began to sound on the base, and in moments soldiers were hustling in all directions. Wolf had calculated that if the Dark expanded at the previous rate it would reach the base in roughly six hours, giving them five to evacuate.
He was wrong.
***
"Forget the gear!" Wolf yelled to the privates lugging a crate. "Get on the blasted truck!"
"But the colonel ordered us to get the hardware," one of them huffed.
I swear I'm going to shoot that man.
"It's you or the gear," Duck yelled.
They looked between each other and dropped the crate. Then they raced to the truck and leapt aboard. All around, the scene was the same as soldiers piled onto overloaded trucks. The moment they were full they joined the convoy exiting the base. The roar of planes taking off drowned out the sound of shouting men.
Commercial planes and military jets streaked down the runway as fast as they could line up. Each was loaded with as many people as it could carry. The call to evacuate had spread to the city, and thousands had rushed to the airport seeking escape. Many more ignored the order, and stayed behind.
The Dark had taken them all.
Less than five miles from the air field, the city had been absorbed by the cloud. Only a few hundred feet separated the enormous black wall from the air base, and it was closing fast. No one watched planes rising into the sky—their eyes were drawn to the menacing Dark. Everyone knew the truth.
There was not enough time.
"How did it get here so fast?" Duck shouted.
"Its rate of expansion must be accelerating!" Wolf replied, and then shouted to the crowd of soldiers. "Grab the sides and hold on!"
He shoved people at the overcrowded truck and then raced to the next one in line. It was the last, and there were hundreds of people trying to shove their way to it. Wolf met Duck's gaze. They both recognized there was not enough room for all of them. Duck gave a tiny shake of his head, and Wolf nodded.
"Women and children!" Wolf shouted. "Only women and children."
Some of the men tried to shove their way past, but SEAL Team 3 knocked them back. In moments the rest of the women and children had been loaded up and the truck struggled to pull away.
"Now what?" Duck asked.
Most of the remaining men were jogging after the truck, but the effort was futile. The Dark was now moving faster than a man on foot. Every truck, car, helo, and motorized cart had joined the jammed convoy. Even a pair of golf carts were in line.
Slower to get off the ground, nine planes still sat on the tarmac. Thousands of people that had come from the city crowded the terminal. Some desperately tried to board, but soldiers on mounted guns kept them from rushing the planes. They were already overloaded.
—a sudden, screeching roar carved through the air like a jagged knife. Everyone in earshot winced, and some dropped to their knees to pray.
"What was that?" Ensign Baker demanded.
His answer came as a flood of Twisted exploded from the advancing cloud wall. Blackened and bent, the men and women that had been caught in the cloud leapt the fence at the edge of the airfield and surged into the airport. In moments they were in the terminal, and then the screams began.
Like ants pouring over toys, they ascended the waiting planes. Gnarled fists smashed windows or tore at the metal skin of the planes. The soldiers on the ground turned their weapons on the Twisted but failed to stem the tide. They were overrun as one of the planes was ripped apart.
The commercial jet beside it groaned from the weight of so many, and one of the wheels buckled. It collapsed sideways, snapping a wing and releasing a flood of jet fuel. An instant later a spark ignited it. The explosion carried into the third, and sent a shockwave that reached all the way to Wolf. The very ground trembled like a frightened child.
Everyone except the SEALs bolted. Mostly civilians and lower ranking soldiers, they raced after the convoy. Duck jumped to Wolf's side.
"What do we do, Captain?"
Wolf felt a lump rise in his throat. A wall of Dark was closing in, ten thousand Twisted were a few hundred feet away, and his men still thought he knew what to do.
"Let's get to the hangers," he said. "Maybe there is a vehicle that someone left behind."
The SEALs turned and raced toward the row of hangers at the rear of the air field. By the time they reached it the Dark had swallowed half the airport. The burgeoning fires and bodies slowly disappeared as it advanced. Three planes accelerated together, and struggled to get off the ground. The speed caused them to shed screaming Twisted, but the rearmost never made it.
One of the black creatures punched a hole in the cockpit and ripped the pilot apart. As the other two planes took off it swerved to the side. With a groan and a screech of metal it teetered—and then fell. A wing snapped off, and then another. Bereft of support, the fuselage bounced and rolled. The ensuing explosion lifted it off the ground and sent it spinning down the runway. It reached the end as nothing more than a charred husk of metal.
The SEALs rushed from hanger to hanger, searching for anything they could use to escape. Aside from a few dismantled helicopters there was nothing.
"Think we should have taken our ride?" Duck asked.
"We gave it to the women, remember?" Wolf replied.
Baker laughed. "They ordered us to leave."
"So?" Duck demanded.
"So they can court-martial us if we live."
A couple of the SEALs laughed. It was the grim humor of doomed men. Then Wolf looked into the second to last hanger and skidded to a stop. Inside, a Sikorsky UH-60 Blackhawk sat. Its doors were gone and some of the skin was missing, but it appeared intact. It even had the mounted guns poking out the sides.
"Hello beautiful," Duck breathed as Baker whistled.
"Duck, see if you can get it going!" Wolf shouted. "We've got three minutes before those things get here. The rest of you make a barricade. Wilson, find some ammunition for those guns." He stabbed a finger at the deck mounted guns. "Baker, rip the seats out so there is enough room for all of us."
Abruptly a figure pulled himself out from under the chopper, so close that Wolf almost shot him. Grease stained his overalls and he had earphones in his ears. He sang to himself as he spun a wrench in his hand—then he caught sight of the SEALs.
Wolf yanked the earbud from his ears. "Who are you?"
"Er . . . Lieutenant Farlow, sir," he said. "Chopper pilot. What's going on?"
"Does this bird fly?"
Farlow nodded. "I just repaired the electronics this morning. But what's—"
Wolf grabbed him and bodily shoved him into the cockpit. "Get it going or you're going to die with us."
"But—"
The SEALs at the hanger door opened fire, and the gunfire spurred Farlow into motion. In seconds the blades began to rotate, and quickly became a blur of motion
"Everyone on!" Wolf bellowed, and the SEALs retreated to the chopper.
They climbed on just as Twisted appeared in the wide hanger door. Wilson racked the slide on the big gun and sent a thundering volley through them. More took their place. The SEALs leaned out and fired on them as the chopper struggled to rise. The next moment they were airborne, and the Blackhawk glided out of the hanger door.
The blood drained from Wolf's face. Thousands of Twisted covered the visible portions of the air base and airport, and the Dark was less than two hundred feet away. The proximity cast a long shadow over them.
Farlow's jaw fell
open. "What in the—"
"Get us out of here!" Wolf bellowed.
Farlow banked the chopper toward the road while the SEALs shot the Twisted that tried to leap up at them. Then Wolf spotted a woman running after the convoy. Well behind the pack of men on foot, she nevertheless ran like an Olympic sprinter as Twisted converged on her position.
"Drop us to the deck!" Wolf yelled.
Farlow spotted her and did as requested, bringing the chopper to just feet off the speeding tarmac. Wolf pointed his gun at the cockpit door hinge and blasted it to pieces. The whole door came free and tumbled away. Then he holstered his gun and grabbed a handle. He leaned out as the wind tore at him, and shouted to her.
"Linda!"
She turned, her eyes going wide as she saw the chopper streaking at her. She put her arm out but didn't slow.
Good girl. Wolf looked to Farlow, and he slowed them down.
"We're picking up a passenger!" Wolf shouted over the rattle of gunfire.
They closed the distance fast, but Farlow was good. He slowed to Linda's pace just as they reached her, and Wolf caught her arm and yanked her inside. Then Farlow accelerated up and away. One by one the SEALs ceased firing as the Twisted fell behind.
"You ok?" Wolf shouted.
Linda bobbed her head, her blond hair whipping around her face. "Thanks for the lift."
"Least I could do," Wolf replied.
She flashed a tightlipped smile, and then looked over his shoulder. He followed her gaze in time to see the leading edge of the Dark pass the last fence of the base. Its shadow reached for miles, and its height blocked the sun. Erzurum Air Base and everyone in the city were gone.
"How many did we lose?" Wolf asked.
A shadow passed over Linda's expression."Too many."
Cold dread pervaded Wolf's heart. Of the numerous conflicts he'd been in, he'd never imagined a war like this. All his training and combat skills meant nothing. He looked to his somber men at the back of the chopper. How am I going to keep them alive? His eyes flicked to hers.
"And it's just the beginning."
Chapter 9: The Weight of Blame
Tess's first days back at Tryton's did not go well. Her friends were glad to see her, particularly Derek and Rox. That, at least, she'd counted on. The other students’ reaction to her presence could only be described as arctic.
Everywhere she went she received glares and veiled curses. Even the teachers displayed a harshness that she'd never experienced before. Her water professor all but yelled at her for requesting the last few days of homework, and Professor Eranko in Basic Animary told her she had the mind of a gnat.
By the third day her resolve had begun to erode. She arrived at Professor Ricks’s class frustrated and late. Normally one of her favorite subjects, the air magic course typically started with ten minutes of free flying. She arrived after Ricks had already begun his lesson.
"Our resident oracle has decided to grace us with her presence," he said. "I'd put you in detention for your tardiness but that just means I'd have to see more of you."
Her face burning, Tess caught the first empty chair and didn't look at anyone. Just ten days ago she'd been fighting for her life on Mt. Elbrus. Now she was being talked to like an errant child. She seethed throughout his lecture on solidifying wind, hardly paying attention to what he was saying. As the student assistant to the professor, Shorn cast her a sympathetic look.
"Done properly," Ricks continued, "the spell can be used to beautify and strengthen architecture. It also tames the elusive nature of our magic, getting us closer to the more important spells that we use to operate our world. Terminous Launchers, wind lifts, and other travel utilize the higher order spells to function. And you would do well to pay attention, Oracle."
"What?" Tess started.
"Since you seem to have other things on your mind, why don't you come up and demonstrate the solairdify charm for us."
Biting her tongue, she rose to her feet and walked to the front of the classroom. Since she'd been absent for the last few days she had little hope of performing the charm successfully in front of the class. Still, she wasn't about to back down. Squaring her shoulders, she approached the wind source that sat at the front of the room.
Caged in a sphere, the wind vapor swirled in an ever-rotating round. Bound by a source charm, the wind could be siphoned off if one had the requisite skill. Tess had learned early that the energy in air was slippery and difficult to grasp. Fortunately for her, Shorn had taught her additional spells during their Tempest training sessions.
Professor Ricks stepped to her side, and spoke quietly enough that only she could hear. "If you want to speak for all of us, then I would assume you have earned it." Then he stepped back and addressed the class. "One form of the solairdify charm is creating an air source. Tess will now demonstrate why an oracle is so gifted."
Tess's heart sank. Any energy could be formed into a sphere of pure energy from which other spells could be derived, but fashioning one to endure was a challenge in its own right, especially with the more ethereal energies like light or air. It was an upper level spell, and Ricks knew it.
Some of the students murmured at the impossible request, but no one spoke up. She looked among them, but most of them avoided her gaze. Realizing she was on her own, Tess turned to the large swirling air and slipped into her magesight.
The air curved out of the sphere at her touch. Marked by the white vapor imbued into it, the energy curled and twisted into an oblong shape. From there Tess began to tighten it. Truthfully she had no idea how to solidify the air so it remained solid and yet continued to flow. The best she could hope to do was tighten it until it resembled a source.
The convoluted air resisted her effort to force it into a ball, but she willed it tighter and tighter until it resembled a spinning gray and white basketball. She held it firm, and fought to make the slippery current solidify.
Ambient air swirled around her, drawn in by the magic she was using. Her sore arm trembled, causing the orb to wobble. She fought to contain it, and surprisingly, it stabilized. Then the spinning air slowed and darkened until it resembled the classroom source.
Professor Ricks bore an expression of disbelief which she hoped she did not share. Annoyance flicked across his features as he caught the ball and tossed it back into the classroom source. The larger sphere ballooned out before adapting to the increase.
"You may return to your seat," he said, and stabbed a finger at her chair.
His anger at being thwarted bled into the rest of the class, and he gave detention to six students in ten minutes. When it came time for the class to end he dismissed them with a jerking hand motion.
His gaze lingered on her, but she didn't meet it as she strode into the hall. Imbued with the same spell she'd just been trying to demonstrate, the walls flowed with semi-solid air. Wisps of cool vapor curled off them, chilling the corridor and filling the space with the smell of new rain. Five steps down a hand caught her arm and spun her about.
"Ouch." She winced as his grip tightened on the spot Rook had struck her.
Shorn blinked. "Sorry. I just wanted to see if you were alright."
"I'm fine," Tess said, but he cocked his head to the side and peaked an eyebrow. She released an annoyed breath. "Why is everyone acting like this?"
"Hang on."
He pulled her into the wind lift and led her to the roof. Large faces dotted the space. Distinct in shape and type of air, the fluid enchantments continuously changed expression. She'd always liked to practice around them, but this time it felt like even they disapproved.
Once Shorn had established that they were alone, he released a sigh. "Everything they know has been robbed of them in a matter of days."
"I didn't have a choice!" Tess burst out. "Alice was going to take over whether the world knew or not."
He held up a placating hand. "I know that. You know that. The rest of the mages don't. They don't realize what the Harbingers have been doing. They w
atch the memory that Iris broadcast and don’t see what you or I see."
"What are they seeing then?" She folded her arms.
"Something to be afraid of," he replied with a sigh. "You have to imagine what it was like for them here. The video of their leader, Ranson, betraying them before being murdered in cold blood. Then they watch a battle of epic proportions between parties they don't know, let alone understand.
"When that scene was broadcast the people of this city went berserk. People demanded answers of the Magtherian, answers they weren't going to get. It took a full contingent of battlemages to get the crowd to disperse, and even then some didn't leave."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't get the chance," Shorn said. "You passed through here so fast on your way to DC."
"But why blame me?" Tess asked. Her need to understand burned in her voice. "Anyone can see what Alice did. Why are they mad at me?"
He swept his hands wide. "Do you see Alice here? Up until a few days ago they didn't even know she existed. You are the one present, so you are the one they blame. They think that if you had acted differently none of this would be happening."
Tess looked away. "Do you think I could have done something else?"
"I doubt it," he replied, "but it's not my opinion that matters. It's people like my parents that are angry."
"What does this have to do with your parents?"
"They tried to pull me from school because they didn't want me around you—and they weren't the only ones. I told mine no, but I'm close to graduating. Some of the younger kids didn't have a choice."
"But how would that help?" Tess demanded. "Right now we need to be united. Alice is dangerous enough without us fracturing apart."
"But who's going to make them see that's what we have to be? Ranson is dead, and half the Magtherian is compromised."
Tess didn't answer, causing him to sigh. Without knowing it, his words echoed Hawk's.
"Like it or not, you made a choice for them," Shorn said, "and right now it's important that they learn to look up to you."
She had a flash of insight. "You helped me make the air source."