Lost Son

by Marcus Abshire

  We froze like that for a few seconds, afraid to do anything that might cause us to fall. I heard a loud pop behind me, followed by a few shouts of shocked pain only to refocus on my own situation as I slipped a few inches towards the edge.

  Brigand squealed in fear and tried to scramble up my arms, inadvertently pulling me even closer.

  “Stop!” I said, trying to get through to him.

  He quit struggling, panicked eyes looking at me.

  “Try and see if you can get your feet on the ledge.” I said, far calmer than I was.

  He nodded and swung his feet towards the building, finding purchase. The strain on my arms eased a little and I quickly readjusted, getting a better grip with my feet. I inched backwards, slowly dragging him with me, the further back I went the more weight Brigand was able to take himself.

  A few seconds later we were both on the roof, panting.

  He wiggled out of the jet pack and smiled at me.

  “Thought you might need some help.” I peeked over the bush, seeing the soldiers still recovering.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “It disrupts their weapons for a short time, it has a small range, but is good for disabling their firearms.” He answered.

  “Why the hell didn’t you give me one earlier and where did you get that jet pack?” I asked, creeping forward again, getting back into my previous position, Brigand followed closely.

  “I didn’t have it earlier, my men have been raiding some of the Warlord’s weapons caches. He’s gathered all his soldiers to him, or to other places, leaving them open.” He answered.

  “Any other little surprises?” I asked.

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Okay, they can’t use their guns, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Alright.” He had his crossbow in his hands, a bolt notched into place. “That thing wasn’t affected by the stun grenade was it?” I asked.

  “Nope.” He answered mischievously.

  “Good.” I said, standing up and walking towards the soldiers, acting as if I hadn’t a care in the world.

  They had all recovered and stood without their firearms; those had been dropped to the ground and replaced with very sharp and very strong looking swords.

  They saw me coming and turned towards me, not surprised in the least. The Warlord had obviously briefed them on who I was and they were expecting me.

  One of them had three purple stripes on his soldiers, differentiating him from the rest. He stepped forward.

  “You are far out-numbered; you are without your sentinel and have no hope of defeating us.” He said.

  “We’re just going to have to see about that, aren’t we?” I asked, walking forward and drawing my sword, sending a small fraction of the energy within me into it, causing it to glow.

  The commander walked forward to meet me, the rest of them keeping back. I guess he wanted me all to himself, that worked for me.

  He got to within about ten feet and his hand flashed forward, sending two small knives straight towards my face. I spun and leaned away, easily dodging the flying metal, giving him his opening, or so he thought.

  Thrusting for my heart, he closed the distance between us. It was a perfect move, using my distraction to strike, he had obviously used it countless times, allowing him to easily take out his opponents, but not this time.

  I moved faster than he anticipated and brought my own sword up, knocking his aside, I spun, lashing out with my blade and when I finished he stood there, his headless body unsure of what to do. It finally collapsed, his arms and legs twitching.

  I looked around, meeting each soldier’s eyes, before I focused on none of them, ready for anything.

  “Next.” I said.

  A crossbow bolt thunked into the forehead of one of the soldiers to my left, who collapsed, instantly dead. The rest of them yelled in anger and defiance, rushing towards me.

  I had used some of my pent up energy on the commander in the hopes of making the rest of them hesitate, hopefully to give me the slight edge I needed. Now I kept it to myself, not wanting to expend it all before it was necessary. I moved from soldier to soldier, using nothing more than my own skill and ability. The Warlord’s men were good, they were disciplined and had the instincts of fighters, but they were fatally inexperienced. They had lived in relative peace and hadn’t had the opportunity to hone their abilities like I had, giving me a far more important advantage, one that allowed me to cut through them like a boat through water.

  I took the first one out when he over extended a sideways slice, exposing his vitals to my sword. I thrust in deep, knowing the damage I did would put him out of the fight. The second one tried to take advantage of the chaos and attempted to stab me in the back. I kicked out with my foot, easily knocking his blade aside and then spun towards him, dipping low, chopping his leg off at the knee. A third soldier dropped dead from another one of Brigand’s deadly bolts.

  That left five more, three of which came at me at once, the other two I couldn’t see, most likely going after Brigand. I worried about him, he was a great shot, but I hoped he would be okay.

  The soldier’s came in fast and coordinated their attacks, obviously learning from their fellow’s failures. I had to concentrate fully on their assault, ducking and diving as they each tried to stab, slice and chop me at the same time. It was fast, chaotic and brutal.

  Wheeling from their first assault, I moved in a circle, always keeping one of them between the other two, cutting off their advantage in numbers. A sword sluiced towards my head and I dipped below it, spinning low and sweeping the feet out from my attacker. He went down with a solid thud and as I stepped over him I kept his sword arm down with my foot and stabbed down, pushing my sword into his head, moving on.

  The other two had spread out, not allowing me to play each one off the other. They came in together, one going high, the other low. I blocked the high attack with my sword, the sounds of metal on metal clanging loud in the air. I tried to kick out and connect with the low attacker’s wrist, but I missed and pain erupted from my leg as he sliced a deep groove in my thigh. I felt warmth as blood flowed from the wound and more pain shot through me as I had to put weight on my leg.

  I tried to ignore the hurt, turning, putting the wounded leg behind me, knowing they would try to bring more attacks on my injured side. I changed forms, fighting like a fencer, presenting only one side of my body, the side holding my sword.

  I parried their attacks, adapting quickly and soon had both of them back pedaling as I pressed in. One of them tripped on a small ledge and I spun towards him slicing across my body and at a downward angle as he tried to rise, cutting a deep crimson line across his neck.

  He gurgled wetly as he tried to breath and cry out, grasping his throat and falling aside, his life’s blood spilling out onto the rooftop.

  That left just one more soldier to deal with.

  My sword arm roared in pain as he took advantage of my death stroke to his buddy, taking the opportunity not to save his friend, but instead to land a blow on me.

  I stepped back quickly, bringing my sword up in defense. My leg throbbed, and my arm screamed in pain every time I used my shoulder, which was always.

  We eyed each other, each of us panting from our exertions, taking a second to get our breaths. Nothing was said, nothing needed to be. The next few seconds would decide our fates, one of us would walk away alive the other wouldn’t.

  I took a moment to focus, minimizing the pain for later. It didn’t disappear, but it became a dull throb in the background, something that wouldn’t distract me.

  He narrowed his eyes at me and I winked at him.

  A snarl split his face and he moved first, rushing at me with his sword down low and behind him.

  I waited.

  He came closer and at the last second planted his foot and used his momentum to add strength to his attack, intent on ending our fight with one powerful blow.

  It was an
upward sweeping stroke, one that would slice me from groin to neck. A split second before it landed I moved, twisting sideways, like you would scooting to your seat in a full theater, and raised my sword, pointing it towards his unshielded face, and as his sword swished through open air, mine sunk into his brain through his eye.

  We stood like that for a second, before I swept my sword back swinging it downwards, flinging the blood off of it, leaving it clean.

  Turning, I hurried towards Brigand. One soldier lie dead, a bolt lodged in his skull. The other one was nowhere to be found. Brigand was lying up against an herb planter, holding his crossbow tightly. He was breathing in ragged gasps, the front of his body covered in dark red blood.

  I reached him and did a quick search for the second soldier.

  “There is no reason to look for him, you won’t find him.” Brigand said through disjointed breaths.

  “Why, what happened?” I asked, seeing a large open wound on his chest, steadily pumping his blood out.

  “Because I sent his ass over the edge.” He stopped, his body convulsed in bloody coughs.

  I went to take off my shirt to press it against his chest when he reached out with one hand, stopping me.

  “It’s okay; there is no need to pretend. He got me good before I sent him to his death.” Another fit of coughing took him.

  “I lived a good life. I have made a true difference.” He said when it passed.

  “Thank you for helping me, I don’t think I could have taken them all without your help.” I said, I had only known Brigand for a short time, but I knew he was a good man, doing what he thought best for his people. A spike of loss shot through me, seeing him like this.

  He waved me off, talking in quick gasps. “It was nothing. Listen, you have to help them.”

  “I am.” I answered.

  “No, I mean later, when they begin to awaken. They will be confused and lost. Many will leave when they realize the truth, some will become pregnant, they will need help on the land, they will need guidance.” He pleaded.

  “I don’t know if I can help them.” The burden of what he was asking was enormous.

  “You can, you must. There is no one else who knows the surface like you, no one they can rely on. You have to….” He was racked with coughs, his face paled and his eyes began to lose focus.

  “You…are…their…king.” He exhaled the last breath he would ever take.

  I reached over and closed his eyes, giving him peace. I then turned to look at the cannon, seeing Julake and the Warlord behind a shiny shield, protecting them. This man died because of them, because of Karakatos’s bat shit crazy schemes.

  It really pissed me off.

  The Warlord looked up from his work, to see the scene before him.

  “You see, no matter what you do, no matter how many die, it will never be enough, you cannot stop destiny, you cannot stop the inevitable.” He said, a maniacal gleam in his eye.

  I gripped my sword a little tighter, “That’s not what your mom said.” I said, walking towards him.

  The building shook from another tremor as we continued to rise, the sky brightened as we began to reach the surface and into waters where the sun was able to pierce. The Warlord noticed it too and smiled again, turning back to his cannons.

 

  Ayup. He answered.

  I asked.

  That actually isn’t a bad idea if it weren’t for that shield they have. According to my calculations, it may have the ability to not only protect them from the rift’s energy, but just might allow them to funnel some of it for their own uses, basically giving them more than two shots. He explained.

  I sent.

  Ayup. He answered again, sounding like some old fisherman from the upper Northeast.

  I don’t think I can talk much more, I should concentrate on keeping the rift stable, things have gotten more, difficult, in here. Nothing for you to worry about, but before I go I should warn you. There are three guests climbing the building, heading straight for you. I would advise caution. He said, then went silent.

  Three guests, who could he be talking about? I hurried to the side of the building and looked down, seeing nothing. Maybe he was finally starting to lose it?

  I felt something on the edge of my awareness, like a shadow flitting in my peripheral vision, there then gone, leaving me with an uneasy feeling, making me grip my sword tighter still.

  Something strong grabbed my throat and I was wrenched from the ground, my legs dangling in the air. I brought my sword up, intent on chopping the hell out of what was slowly cutting off my wind pipe when my wrist was likewise encircled, leaving me defenseless.

  I hung like that for a few seconds, panic began to grip me and I thrashed wildly, not knowing where to strike. The sea witch turned me around so that I faced her, her tentacles holding me up and keeping me immobilized.

  I saw behind her as another one climbed onto the roof. I heard soft popping sounds as her suckers helped pull her up as she scrambled away from the fire power that was being unleashed her way. I guess those on the ground had seen them and didn’t like them climbing their capital anymore that I.

  A third sea witch began to gain access to the roof, but it seemed that whomever was on the ground shooting had figured out how to zero in on their target as the thing let out a loud squeal and rocked from numerous impacts, its body ripped apart as the blasts hit home. It lost its balance, one side if its head had been obliterated and it slowly leaned back, then disappeared as it fell, it suckers reluctantly letting go with audible pops.

  Three to two, I liked those odds better. My vision began to blur around the edges as the sea witches tentacle tightened in anger at seeing her sister killed. It yanked me forward, only inches from my face.

  “Whyyy do youuu call me heerrre?” It hissed, its large black eyes seemed like pools of nothingness, small pockets of the abyss.

  “What?” I was able to ground out, her grip made talking difficult.

  “Theee power callsss to usss.” It said.

  I could see its other tentacles slithering around themselves, small charges of electricity arcing from one to the other.

  I mentally let out a breath of relief. At first I thought they may have been recruited by the Warlord. If he was able to bring together not only vampires, yes they turned on him, but that’s what they do, and sea witches he was more influential than I had imagined.

  It seemed as though they were here because of the energies released from the rift. Somehow they felt what was happening and it drew them here, like a moth to a porch light. I wondered if they would fly into it and burn, or if something else would happen. I didn’t really want to know the answer.

  “What isss thisss that callsss to uss?” It said.

  The sea witch was even uglier now that I had gotten a much closer look. Her face was actually covered in small scales, so small as to look like smooth skin. She was able to breath out of the water, or else had the ability to hold her breath an amazingly long time. Seeing as how she was talking meant she was able to manipulate the air well enough to create sounds, which led me to the idea that she could breathe air. Scary.

  I recoiled from her stench. She emitted a smell that was part slimy fish and part utter disgusting. Perhaps it was a defense mechanism, it was working, I wanted to get as far away from her as possible.

  I felt the hairs on my body tingle in response to the electrical charge she was producing. I felt as if any movement may trigger a release, like when you walk across your carpet and grab something metal and are met with a small zap.

  Her grip was relentless, both on my neck and my wrist, I wasn’t going to manhandle my way out of this. Perhaps I could talk my way out.

  “It’s not me, it’s him.” I said, nodding towards
the Warlord and Julake. “They are calling to you. Stop them and you stop the energy.” My voice was small and tight from the pressure.

  The one holding me turned, looking towards the cannon, the other one did as well. They both turned their heads sideways, like a dog hearing a high pitched sound and then they made a series of clacking sounds, like dolphins before the one holding me turned back.

  “You lie, theee power comesss from beneath usss.” The pressure on my neck increased, my vision began to dwindle again and it drew ragged breaths through a throat that was being forced shut.

  “Dieeee nowwww.” She hissed, her eyes never showed any emotion, they sucked in all the light like a vast black hole.

  I decided that at this point all diplomacy had ceased and that a more aggressive approach was in order.

  I raised my other hand, the one she hadn’t grabbed because it was harmless at the time, which now held the Atlantean pistol in it and placed it on the side of her head, the barrel pressed into her green skin, and pulled the trigger.

  There was a loud whump and I closed my eyes, feeling bits of brain and scales hit my face. I was thrown aside as the sea witch undulated with chaotic spasms, losing the control center for all movement tended to make coordinating that movement a bit more difficult.

  I landed hard, knocking the breath out of me, but I rolled anyway, instantly coming to a one kneeled shooter’s stance, bringing the pistol up where I had last seen the second sea witch. I knew she would most likely be a little upset at me for murdering her friend, but I wasn’t going to let her strangle me.

  Sure enough I saw her coming. She let out an ear splitting squeal, the sound of it made my nerves raw, it was primal, deep and dark, something heard in the dead of night as creatures of the darkness hunt for food and usually find it.

  My vision was still shaky and all I wanted was to take a huge breath, but I had to steady my aim and shoot before she was upon me. I fired twice, the first one missed, but the second one clipped her shoulder and drove her sideways and into the Warlord’s protective shield.