Mid-Arc

by David Gosnell

A cigar-shaped transport vehicle comes through the gate.

  “I wish you to move critical assets to safety,” Zebelbuub says through the speaker. “I assume you have organized a fall-back?”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “The engineers with the gate harmonics are critical in the case something happens to this installation. You are critical. Take S’Ehere with you. I would hate to lose that one.”

  “Thank you, my emperor,” she says.

  “The lead arcanist?” Garaung asks.

  “Not critical.”

  “Sir, a question.”

  “Yes.”

  “I will send the critical assets and S’Ehere to the fall-back point immediately. May I remain until this facility is secured?”

  “Is he here?”

  “I heard his voice,” S’Ehere says. “He has not announced himself to us, though.”

  “Then no, you may not, Therin Garaung. Have all class-three singularity weapons been deployed? What is the status of the others?”

  “Yes, sir, they have been. Others are awaiting armament.”

  “That is unfortunate. But are we not Dzemond? We’ll manage another way to end him.”

  Garaung sees a hand pushing against the energy of the gate. The hand is huge, reflecting the spiritual mass of its owner. The hand retracts.

  “Make preparations for Ahtsag Znuul’s arrival and apprise nexus command when you have left. I will call to him myself. He could not possibly resist a personal invitation.”

  Chapter 60

  Harley, the werewolf from World War II, bounced back pretty quickly after the potion hit him. I take the radio gear from the decapitated wolf and reach out.

  “Bravo Group, what is your status? Wolf leader Charlie is down. This is Mac.”

  Silithes was in Bravo Group. I have to know if she’s all right. I wait and hear nothing.

  “Keep chatter down, Mac,” comes Znuul’s voice. “They are listening.”

  Crap sticks. That was part of the brief. They would be able to listen. I kick myself mentally but still wish I could get confirmation that Sil is all right. It’d be worth it.

  “Mac, Charlie Group at MT,” comes Greg’s voice.

  I don’t bother acknowledging to keep chatter down.

  “We need to move – terminal two.”

  Harley does a partial transformation and scavenges ammo and weapons from his packmate.

  “These work better than claws and teeth,” he says, checking the magazine on his gun.

  “Teams Alpha-Bravo,” comes a voice over the earpiece. “You have incoming. A shitstorm of incoming in formation on foot and wing.”

  Crap, we can’t do a thing hunkered in this concourse. I spy a gate. Gates lead to planes. Planes are outside.

  “On me,” I shout and take off for the gate. People behind the attendant’s desk, hiding, huddle closer as we pass by. We get to the end of the platform, and I open the door to the stairs. I take a quick look around down the tarmac and see what he meant by shitstorm: A wall of winged Dzemond and wingless ground support.

  Odds for our team’s survival look bleak.

  “Mother of God,” Harley mutters in his gravelly partial wolf voice.

  “Go!” shouts Sheyliene. “This is really bad cover.” She pushes Harley to the side and goes airborne.

  I’m down the stairs. Shey signals me to get next to the building. That makes sense. I run and follow the concourse building toward the second terminal with our group behind me. At the edge of the concourse, I consider the run to the other building – a risky, dangerous run. We’ll be wide open. I reach into one of the pockets on my tactical vest and pull out a mirror. I look around the corner with it.

  There’s one Dzemond, of the frog-faced variety, taking cover much like we are.

  “Well?” asks Arix.

  All eyes are on Arix for being the dumb-ass that blew our location.

  The corner of the wall explodes. Then another impact shatters more wall from a gun I don’t want shooting me. Sheyliene buzzes out her bow in hand. One, two, three arrows release as she moves evasively.

  I whip around the corner, hoping he’s distracted or injured. I send three rounds his way and am not sure if any hit. I jump back for cover.

  “He’s down,” yells Sheyliene, buzzing into the space between the two buildings.

  Maybe I’m a better shot than I thought. I signal the team to go. When I round the corner and see Greg sheathing his blade, I know it’s not my marksmanship.

  Greg signals us to follow. He leads us around to a baggage handling area, where the remaining members of Charlie Group are.

  “I don’t know what we’re going to do when that wall of winged death comes our way,” Greg says.

  I step back outside just to see the spectacle of it. On the other side of the field is our target, the hangar with the gate. Smoke still smolders from the plane’s impact. I come to my senses and duck down behind a baggage truck.

  I see the wall of wings start to turn and curve as if they have their sights on a target. Something else appears. It’s like a little disturbance, but it gets bigger and bigger and darker as it starts sucking up nearby debris from all of the shooting.

  I’ve seen Karred, back when she was Karen, summon a mini-tornado when we were cleaning out some rogue vampires. It has to be her work. But somehow I don’t think a mini-tornado is going to do it. And apparently, she doesn’t, either. I can hear the distant roar of the vortex as it swells and lunges toward the attackers. Sounding like a freight train, I’m guessing it has to be the equivalent of an F-5. The wall of Dzemond did not see that one coming. I see it slam into them, strewing bodies up, out and around. The tornado continues down the tarmac, eventually slamming head-on into our target hangar.

  Then as quickly as it came, it begins to dissipate. The dang hangar looks hardly affected.

  I hit the com. “Karred, are you all right?”

  I remember how much that mini-tornado took out of her.

  “Fine. Tired. Keep the chatter down,” her voice snaps back. “We’re going to need healers.”

  From my vantage point at the truck, I see the air shimmer in front of the hangar. More damned troops spill out. A black cigar-shaped thing comes out with them. Great, another flying weapon of mass destruction. It hovers in place for a moment, then takes off to the west, away from us.

  “They have reinforcements,” I say through the com.

  Arix’s presence startles me. “Did she do that? The red one, the used-to-be-a-human witch.”

  “I think so.”

  “Incredible. Good to know she’s on our side.”

  “For sure, Arix. Look, they lift the shielding to let out the new troops and equipment. When they open it again, is there any way to keep it open?”

  Arix looks around the baggage car.

  “A well-timed rocket. Though the rockets we have are relatively slow. The arcanists at the gate would have to be practically asleep not to intercept it, or raise the shield again.”

  “Sleep spell?”

  Arix glowers at me disapprovingly. “Yes, why don’t I disguise myself as an old crone and offer them poison apples? To your credit, you are trying to think. Don’t stop trying.”

  The strangest feeling washes over me. Impending death. Failure. Spiders eating my corpse, laying their eggs in my flesh. My heart is racing. I have to run. I have to get away.

  I won’t survive; nobody will.

  Chapter 61

  Mevrlid notes that the troops and supplies stop coming through the gate. The emperor’s voice comes through the communication panel.

  “Please, someone bring one of the good Chinese soldiers to the gate. I require their assistance to set this attack to rest. Please bring him and have him come through the gate to me.”

  “This is Subcommander Mevrlid. I will advise when the soldier is in position for assistance.”

  Mevrlid flags the Chinese soldiers and points to one to come over.

  “Our emperor needs you to help
stop this attack. Do you mind? It will be quite the honor to work directly with the emperor personally. Your superiors will approve.”

  The soldier says, “Of course.”

  Mevrlid takes the soldier to the shimmering energy of the gate.

  “Just walk through. Our air is quite heavy. They will have a breathing apparatus for you.”

  The soldier has a moment of apprehension. Mevrlid solves that with a solid shove, pushing him through the shimmering portal.

  The other Chinese guards look at Mevrlid with distrust.

  “Why did you shove him?” one asks.

  “He hesitated. He’ll be fine.”

  “Get him back.”

  Mevrlid smiles a wicked smile and gestures to the gate. “Get him yourself.”

  The Chinese guards bring their QBZ’s up to bear.

  Mevrlid calmly says, “Kill these animals.”

  The guards are able to squeeze off a few rounds before plasma swords cut them down.

  “Humans,” Mevrlid says, his voice dripping with contempt.

  The gate’s shimmer expands from a great disturbance, and the guard comes through, his feet not touching the ground. A hand grasps his head, fingers sunk deep into his skull. The guard is convulsing, his eyes rolled up and face contorted. Another dark hand passes through the gate. It is giant size until it actually breaks through the shimmer. A huge face follows until the gate peels back, revealing the normal size head of Zebelbuub.

  “Well done, Mevrlid, I see why Garaung insists on your presence,” the emperor says.

  Mevrlid takes to a knee and looks downward in subservience.

  “Now, let us share a taste of dread with these humans, shall we?”

  ⁂

  Znuul immediately notices the look of confusion on Karred’s face. The entire team had stopped and gone wide-eyed except for Paul, Silithes, and Bobby Newfield.

  Bobby looks at Znuul and says, “Dread cast, damn strong.”

  Znuul takes Karred by the arm and spins her to face him. “This is an influence. Recognize it, rebuke it. It is not how you feel; it is how one wishes you to feel.”

  “Yes,” she says, collecting herself.

  “I can’t block it for all of them,” Bobby says, having brought one Techno-Mage back to sanity.

  Then it stops.

  “Directed at human spirit only,” Bobby says. “Not good if they do that during a firefight.”

  “Zebelbuub,” Znuul says.

  “He’d have to be here to do that,” Bobby says. “God help us if he is.”

  “You overestimate him,” Znuul says.

  Znuul feels a shiver come across him from the feeling of a telepathic push. He knows who it is. He lets it in.

  “No fear of letting me in? I am here. Come to me. Shall we see who might consume whom,” Zebelbuub says in Znuul’s mind. “I know you have to be as curious as I am.”

  “Yes,” Znuul responds telepathically.

  “You have grown weak. Whereas, I have grown stronger. Come so I may devour your essence and shit you back out to the pool of black where we came from. You are in need of being reacquainted with your true nature.”

  “I look forward to the taste of your fear,” Znuul replies.

  “I look forward to the conquest of T’uel Faeden. You are nothing but a minor hindrance to that goal. Come meet your fate and know the same will follow for these pathetic creatures of the light.”

  “I am coming,” Znuul conveys before severing the telepathic connection.

  He becomes vaguely aware of someone tugging on his arm. It’s Karred, she’s saying something.

  “Are you all right? Can you hear me?”

  “I hear you.” He pops his neck and looks upon the remnants of Alpha and Bravo groups.

  “What happened?” Karred asks.

  “Zebelbuub is here. We had a chat. He wishes me to grace him with my presence.”

  “You let that thing in your head?” Bobby asks.

  “Things of a feather enjoy headspace together,” Znuul says, the black mist starting to coalesce around him.

  “Crap,” Bobby says. “Everyone, get back.”

  “Ahtsag, it has to be a trap,” Karred says.

  “Of course it is. But a tasty one. Relax, Bobby. I’m just enjoying the sensation of what I am. Can only keep the genie in the bottle for so long.” Znuul looks over the team. “We need to move; my sweetie here can only bail us out of hot water so many times. We need to get everyone to better ground. Zebelbuub can wait.”

  Znuul turns on the comm. “Charlie Group. Alpha and Bravo incoming. Mac, Sil lives.”

  “Bobby, can you cover?”

  “For a while, yes. We’ll need to leapfrog. Let me go ahead. I’ll mask your runs.”

  Chapter 62

  Just as suddenly as it appeared, the heavy feeling of dread lifted.

  Yayne’s voice is screaming in my mind, “Arthur! Arthur!”

  I reach back and take his hilt to my hand.

  Arix says, “This is not a good sign.”

  “We have to stop this, now,” Yayne says. “We cannot allow more darkness to enter this world. Especially more like what just entered. More of this kind cannot be allowed in. It is like your friend, only without the speckles of light that he tries to hide.”

  I take that in as I watch Arix, Vets, and Shey trying to calm our group.

  “What do you suggest, Yayne?”

  “Get me to this gate, plunge me through it, and ground me to the other side.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. Wait. You must know that to do this most likely means the end of us both. It is the ultimate sacrifice. But we cannot allow more abominations to come here. The creatures are bad, that which just entered is truly unholy. The world will fall.”

  “Well, that’s a thing, isn’t it?” I say aloud. “By the end of us, does that mean this curse is going to resurrect me into something that will harm those I love?”

  “I doubt there will be enough left of either of us to resurrect anything. Obliteration.”

  “I can deal with that.”

  I scurry back into the baggage area and look across the soldiers, werewolves, and Protectorate forces.

  “It’s a fear-cast,” I shout. “Suck it up. It’s not real, folks. Get it together; the real fight is coming. Bad things are here. Greg, I need you. Like right now.”

  I take him to the entry and point to the hangar.

  “The shield shimmers when it comes down to let reinforcements and supplies out. When it does, I’m going to jump on your back, and you are going to take me to that damned gate. Yayne and I are going to shut it down.”

  “That’s a long way. I don’t know if I have the stamina.”

  “Don’t be a pussy. This is where we win, or they do.”

  I begin the chant for a third-degree healing, closing my eyes to feel all of it. At the conclusion of the chant, I open my eyes and take his face in my hands, releasing the healing energies.

  “Make it happen, Greg. We have one shot.”

  “All right,” he tells me. “Let’s do this.”

  I turn back to Charlie Group.

  “We’re going to go shut this gate down. When we do, there will be chaos. Wipe out the survivors.”

  The looks from everyone show mostly disbelief and confusion.

  Except for Vets, who thumps her chest and yells out, “Death to the Dzemond.”

  “We’re going to kill them all,” Sheyliene adds in an eerily calm voice.

  I don’t have the balls to tell them it’s a one-way trip for me.

  And for them.

  Arix says nothing but re-shields Greg, then me. The look he gives me is skeptical, more untrusting.

  Greg and I scurry out to the baggage truck and wait for the shimmer.

  I unsheathe Yayne and say, “Now we wait.”

  Yayne’s voice fills my mind, “Your friend need not die. If he is to the side of the gate, the obliteration should miss him.”

  I tap Greg
on the shoulder. “When you get me there, take me to a side of the gate. This is important, you do not under any circumstances stand in front of it. Get to the side and hunker down.”

  Greg looks at me. He understands. “Arthur, is this a suicide mission?”

  “One-way trip for me. It doesn’t have to be that way for you. No, won’t be that way for you. Get me there and get away from the gate opening.”

  “Damn,” he says, looking away from me. “Close your eyes before I start the run. Might want to hold your breath, too.” He looks back at me. “I’ll make sure the world knows about this.”

  “I could care less as long as there’s a world worth living in.”

  I sit back against the truck, knowing Greg is looking for our opening. I hit the comm.

  “Tell Silithes I love her. It’ll make sense later.”

  “We’re up,” Greg says.

  I jump on his back.

  “Lock your legs around me and make sure you have a damn strong grip. I don’t want to lose you before we even get there.”

  I do what he says, close my eyes, and take a deep breath to hold.

  The tug has me straining to hold my grip; then just like that, we stop. I open my eyes and let out my breath. In front of me is a shimmering surface. Greg collapses and me with him. I scramble up immediately and roll him to the side. I look back over my shoulder to see the scariest face I have ever seen, the eyes radiating malice. Its head and shoulders are through the gate, and it’s holding a soldier by the head off the ground, fingers disappearing into the soldier’s skull.

  I spin Yayne around and will him to glow.

  The look of malice becomes one of surprise.

  “Goodbye, Yayne,” I say.

  I plunge Yayne downward through the gate, and the world explodes.

  Chapter 63

  I’m not sure if it was five seconds or five minutes that the torrent swept by. I know it was so bright I had to close my eyes. And I’m guessing so sudden it burned all my nerve endings off because I am not in pain. If anything, I feel something more akin to a very hot breeze.

  I open my eyes, expecting to see nothing but white, but instead, I see smoldering destruction. The wall that was ten feet or so behind the gate structure is gone. The devastation having blown out the back wall of the building in its wake. I look down and see my skin is intact, and I’m holding part of Yayne; just the hilt and maybe about four inches of blade sheared off.