Fade

by Chad West

  “That sounds acceptable.” He smiled.

  ***

  People with powers, like Jonas, had a healthy fear of the Fade during the war. But as he ran with Lucy in his arms he understood what it must have felt like for the average human. The Fade were stronger, faster and—because of their powered armor—conventional weapons did little but piss them off. Now he was the all but defenseless one, and knew he couldn’t keep running. He would soon have to stop, tend to his little girl. That real fear—like that billions had felt on his Earth—expanded in his chest like a mushroom cloud.

  He went down behind a fallen tree, spilling Lucy onto the ground, crawling out of the pack tangled over his arms. He unzipped a side pocket and pulled out a small, plastic container. Even in the low light of the woods he could tell she had almost no color. He was unsure how she’d stayed standing as long as she had. Now he actually questioned whether it was the magnitude of the power she had been using or just the blood loss that had brought her down. He opened the container, scanning the neat rows of pills inside.

  There were others captured during the war aside from those with mental powers. When the Fade found out that people like Cynthia’s blood had healing properties they began to take them as well. They would lobotomize them, hook them to machines to keep their bodies alive and milk them like animals. The Fade came up with a way to preserve the healing capabilities of the blood, and stuck the product of their murder into an easy-to-use capsule.

  Jonas’ people got hold of a warehouse full of the things and had a hard moral choice to make. Jonas had believed they made the wrong one. Now he popped the case open and pulled one of the brown capsules free of its white, foam holding place with little thought. The process the Fade used to keep the blood vital was supposed to be indefinite. He prayed indefinite meant at least a decade and a half as he poked the pill into Lucy’s mouth.

  He didn’t hear the Fade warrior creeping toward him. He turned just in time to see the blue light of the blade the Fade wielded a mere inch from his face. Jonas dropped the case of pills and spun, falling back. But the warrior was still, hung suspended before him. The sword’s brightness had been so close it stung his eyes. He would be dead if it wasn’t for… what? He turned and saw Lucy, arm outstretched, but looking woozy. Jonas smiled, standing to finish the warrior off.

  Picking up the case, he stuck it back in his pack, stuffing the two pills into his pocket that had fallen out when he’d dropped the case. He threw the pack on again and helped Lucy up. “Stay close. There may be more. I’m certain Aern is not happy with you for what you did.”

  She shook her tired head and ground her eyes together. He figured she must have one heck of headache after that show earlier. But they could talk about that later. Besides, he’d feel better after doing a brain scan on her with the gift he’d gotten from Kah’en in the woods earlier.

  This time he did hear the familiar cadence of someone trailing them. He palmed the hilt of the blade he’d taken off the last attacker and pulled Lucy closer. Her eyes were wide in the near lightless wood as the owner of those footfalls drew closer. Jonas put a finger to his mouth, afraid she might bring two or three trees down on the guy, alerting anyone else nearby where they were. With reluctance, she nodded her head once.

  He pulled her into a coppice and knelt. The wisp, wisp of tall grass being walked through was punctuated by pauses. Jonas hadn’t made it difficult for them to be found. Them and his shiny, new toy. With the Fade warrior a few feet away, that familiar blue blade shot out of its hilt with a low buzz and he sliced the warrior deep before he had a chance to do more than drop his jaw.

  Jonas turned, then stumbled back as a second Fade warrior dropped from a tree in front of him, just missing him. The warrior’s teeth showed bright in contrast to his black skin. His orange, demon eyes flashed.

  “You. No powers do have.”

  The Fade were quick in picking up languages, but this one didn’t seem to have had much interaction with humans. “No. Me don’t,” Jonas said. He gripped the hilt of the blade with both hands, holding it out in front of him. He considered his options. The warrior gave a growling laugh at Jonas’. If he were the Fade warrior, he’d be laughing at Jonas’ seeming stupidity, too. But Jonas saw what might just be their chance to turn the tide an inch or two in their favor and give Cynthia a fighting chance. If she still fought at all. He pushed the doubt aside and, without much enthusiasm about the choice, he spoke to Lucy. “You can hold him still.”

  The warrior spun to find the girl he most likely imagined dead considering the shape she was in the last time he saw her. Paralysis struck every muscle at once and he gave a final grunt of surprise. Jonas crouched next to the warrior for a moment, fiddling with something near the warrior’s waist, giving a satisfied noise and standing at last.

  “You might want to close your eyes,” he said to Lucy, aiming for the neck, not wanting to damage the now deactivated powered armor the warrior wore.

  NINETEEN

  The ride was as swift as Kah’en promised, but he had never assured comfort. Angela grunted with each thud of the great beast’s hooves, hoping one of them would have to take a piss or need a drink of water soon so her butt could regain some feeling. Five of the men from the camp had come with them. They were only curious and had no desire to fight this guardian they had heard so much about.

  On the second day, they encountered an animal. It was almost three times the size of the kulls, which could carry four of the over-sized Fade if need be. The group halted and dismounted, drawing their bows, readying their staves. The animal sat on its haunches. The muscles under its greenish skin tightened; it bared long, sharp teeth as it waved its round head. Three, sharp horns that worked their way up the side of its skull moved back and forth in warning.

  The leader of the group held up a steady hand. “Be ready,” he said to Kah’en. “It will not turn away.”

  Angela looked at Kah’en, hoping for a translation, biting her lip. She gasped, sliding off her animal as the giant pounced. Arrows flew. Long claws tore into the nearest kull. It called out in pain, red painting the cracked desert floor. One of the warriors threw himself at the beast, pushing his stave deep into the animal’s flank. It released the kull, whipping its great head about, goring the warrior; shaking him loose and charging at the rest.

  A dozen arrows wavered in its flesh as it came at them. A dozen more, another stave, found purchase. It did not slow. Angela found her shot, and flames rushed at the beast’s side. It fell, slid, rolled several feet away from the men, squalling in pain. Angela shouted to the men to stand back as she ran forward. Kah’en repeated her command in their language. The animal attempted to rise; a loud, pained roar called out its intended vengeance. She lit the air about the beast aflame and it seemed to scream, writhed, and then no longer moved. The smell of flesh burning filled the air. Angela paused, catching her breath.

  The remaining two kull carried the extra burden of men with little effort. The hills behind them, the dry, flat land spread before them like forever. They had built a pyre for the fallen warrior. Crisp, flowerless bushes and long dead wood served as his last bed. Angela could not bring herself to set the fire under the man. But she would light the pieces as they brought them to her until there were enough.

  The third and final full day was without incident. They were all but silent that morning. The heat would have been enough to keep their talk low, but the attack had reminded them of what they were moving toward. It was, if the stories were true, a small taste of the violence they strode headlong into. Angela considered this too. Before, she had almost bragged to Kah’en that she was ready to face the thing. But now that she had seen battle, true battle where no punches were pulled and one’s next day was a laughable theory, she regretted herself.

  Dusk came, but a light radiated in the far distance. Angela looked to Kah’en. She knew he recognized that light as well as she. It was the light of the Wraiths, the light of Aern’s staff, the light that must have signale
d the end of the world as the people on that other Earth knew it when Kah’en’s people had arrived. It was also the bright blue promise of release that had brought so many to their deaths in this world. And, without pause, they rode toward it.

  ***

  A rare rain came that evening and some of the men stood, heads back, catching it in their mouths. Others held their helms high and smiled, drinking it with greed as it began to spill over the sides. One of them grew sick from so much and began spewing it out in great heaves, laughing like a madman in between belts of vomit.

  Angela stood, arms out, eyes closed, letting it soak her. The dust from the ride slid from her alabaster skin, and Kah’en watched her, drinking lazily from one of the three, small animal skulls which hung from his neck like jewelry. He tipped it up, taking the last drop and then held it aloft again to be filled. The whole landscape changed within minutes. The bleached ground hoarded each uncommon drop, growing a deeper shade of brown. The scarce patches of dried brush, like markers to a dead land, waved like newly haunted bones with the bustling wind. The sky was the beautiful gray of bursting clouds. But his eyes stayed on this human girl.

  The blue aura on the horizon was dimmer through the torrent, but still beckoned them more than the rain. In the revelry, the pull toward it could still be felt among the men. Eyes were seen to wander to it even as men drank their fill. Angela dropped her arms, opening her mouth to take in the sweet cloud burst. It poured over her chin and cheeks like waterfalls. After a while she dropped her head and looked also to the blue circle in the distant horizon. She smiled. Then she turned to Kah’en and made her way to where he sat on an outcropping of rock.

  Sitting, she bumped him with her shoulder, her smile widening. They watched the men dance and run in the water, some of them lying down, letting it wash over them, laughing and talking, a sound that was scarce over the hiss of the downpour. They watched as it slowed, the men seeming to slow with it, shrinking away to their makeshift tents and checking the stakes to which the kulls were tied for the last time that night. The thunder became distant and the drops slowed to nothing.

  Before long, they pulled the gathered wood from their tents where they had placed it to keep it dry when the rain began. Fires were started. Dried meats were pulled from their satchels and the few spoils of hunts were skinned and spitted. But they all, every one of them, looked sated on a full meal.

  Now, as darkness took full hold, all that was left was the electric glow on the horizon. Each of them ate, some still drinking from water they had collected earlier. But all unspeaking, watched that radiance.

  When Kah’en kissed her, Angela leaned into it. She took his lips and pushed her hand into the hair on the back of his neck. Kah’en felt as her body warmed, almost too much to take. Almost.

  ***

  Kah’en assured the others they could stay without shame as he and Angela traveled the scant few miles to their destination. Their leader stepped forward, regarding his men. He promised nothing in the way of war, but they all wished to make the remainder of the journey. The Fade’s curiosity, Kah’en thought, it had led them to many great discoveries, but also to much death.

  The last few miles seemed the longest. Rocks jutted from the ground like rotted teeth and they found themselves at dead ends or deep crevasses several times, having to turn around and find another way. The light was always their compass, but there would be no straight path to it.

  Insects the size of a fist, scorpion tails curled up on their yellowed exoskeletons, skittered past them in a constant stream. The kulls crushed a few with every step. Sometimes the mounts would yelp, once almost throwing the men off as it reared in pain. The men raised their legs, watching every golden one of them. But the rocks began to grow smaller and the insects dissipated. The land flattened out as if bowing to the great wall of rock making a wide curve around where the light emanated.

  Even the smallest rock of it was as large as a kull. The wall climbed for thirty feet at least in an almost perfect semi-circle against the side of a mountain which was splashed with the blue light. They had all stopped and were staring, wondering what to do next. Kah’en dismounted and walked a few steps forward. “There has to be a door,” he said, talking to himself for the most part.

  Angela was at his side before he even realized. “It’s there.” She pointed to a tall, rounded hole in the wall, almost hidden around the curve of the structure. “Looks like it’s got a rock door though. Wanna knock?” There was unease in her smile.

  Kah’en looked at the rest and asked if they had any ideas.

  “Obviously it is not some savage beast that builds a thing like this,” one of them said in the Fade tongue.

  Their leader nodded. “Perhaps it can be spoken to?”

  “What are they saying?” Angela whispered.

  “A moment,” he assured her and then returned to the hard, guttural language she had made well known she’d begun to hate. “I have heard few stories of this place, but they were all stories of death.”

  Another spoke. “I have heard these stories, too. But, I believe if I were engaged by a yelling army carrying weapons pointed at me, I would fight as well.”

  Kah’en lowered his head, rubbing at what had become a thick growth of hair on his face. “I will go to this door. Call to it. See what manner of response I get.”

  The Fade’s leader frowned, then lifted his hands from his reigns seeming to have no better ideas.

  Kah’en looked down at Angela, explained the conversation and said, “I have decided to go to this door. Call for the creature. We could push through this door, but I do not see that going well for us.”

  Angela hesitated. “I’m going with you.”

  “No,” he said and began toward the wall.

  “No?” She said. “Eff that.” She strode up behind him.

  Kah’en shook his head, but did not stop nor turn. “You stay back then. In case his answer is not… pleasant.”

  She agreed.

  The door, no more than a giant block of stone placed against the opening, was at least two feet thick. The way it leaned let Kah’en see in a bit. Angela snuck close enough to get a peek in behind him. Great wooden beams the size of full-grown trees leaned against the stones, holding the walls in place. The bright blue even reflected off of them. But he saw no one.

  He took a breath and called out that they came in peace. Silence. He tried again. Still no sound came from within.

  “Maybe he’s out. You know, hunting or something.” Angela said, trying at hope.

  Three more times Kah’en pleaded for the creature to respond—just respond.

  Angela rubbed her fingers together nervously, getting closer, bending forward, trying to see again through the crack into the fortress the stone provided. “We can’t just leave,” she said, pleading.

  They both turned at the sound of beating hooves. It was Dacus. “We will push the door away.”

  Kah’en eyed him with concern, but agreed, his shoulders tightening, lips compressing, as he backed away. “They are going to open this door,” he said to Angela.

  “Are you sure?” Angela said, her voice a squeak. “You said you didn’t see that going well for us.”

  Dacus and another of the Fade rode the two kulls toward the large stone door without another word. The great, hairy creatures lowered their heads and began to press them against it. The stone door creaked and ground upon the wall against which it stubbornly laid. The next few moments happened in fast-forward.

  The kulls stumbled forward as the rock door slid away. The two riders were torn from their mounts and thrown. The door landed with a mighty thump that rumbled the ground and everything around it but the fabled Guardian that now stood before them. His great maw widened, a deafening roar released from deep within him. The remains of the small group stumbled back.

  “Please! We just want to talk!” She began to shout. “Our friends need us!” Tears stood in the corners of Angela’s eyes, her hands out, pleading. The being, larger
than any of the Fade with them, looked at her, relaxing.

  ***

  The Guardian sat on the balls of his large feet. His skin, which lay over his muscles like spandex, was mottled blue and gray. He rested two of his four barrel arms on his knees. His hands, with two stubbed fingers, flat tipped and wide, and even larger thumbs, hung between his knees. The other hands grasped the forearms of the lower two. All of his hands were empty, but he was by no means to be perceived as unarmed. The quick work he had made of the two Fade riders, who were now with the others, tending their wounds, spoke to this. Perfect, round orbs of citrine watched Angela.

  “You should not be here,” one of his fingers came up, pointing at her. “This concerns me.” He spoke perfect English. She could feel him fishing it out of her brain.

  “Um,” she said, her voice shuddering. “I’m here because I want to go home. Also, because I’m needed there.”

  His face, lousy with wrinkles, was a lighter blue than his body and curtained by long, cloudy hair of the kind one might find in the drain. He turned to Kah’en. “You are Janar?”

  Kah’en nodded, looking like he were trying his best to resist the temptation to either pull his weapon or take a position much farther away.

  “Have your people found the second Earth then?” He pointed back at Angela. “Because I can smell it on her.”

  Kah’en furrowed his brow. “Very recently. Who are you?”

  “This concerns me,” he repeated, then looked up at the men in the distance. “They will die if they attack, Janar.” He looked back at Kah’en. “I do not wish it, but it is the truth.”

  “We are not here to battle,” Kah’en said.