The Last Hunter - Lament (Book 4 of the Antarktos Saga)

by Jeremy Robinson

  Amaguq traces his finger through the blood on her face and brings it to his mouth, licking it with his tongue. I can taste Mira’s blood in his mouth, experiencing all of his senses. He chuckles, stands and turns to leave.

  Were we not inside a Nephilim’s mind I would have smiled. Did you see it?

  I saw nothing I would like to see again before my own life fades, Xin replies.

  His eyes saw, but his mind wasn’t paying attention, I think. Watch.

  The scene replays. I taste her blood. Amaguq stands, turns and...

  Her eyes, Xin thinks. They opened.

  It’s hard to see. Just a quick flutter. But the motion is combined with a rising in her chest.

  She’s alive, I think.

  With a flash of light, I am back in the real world.

  He has repelled us! Xin shouts in my mind. The effect is wearing off. Quickly!

  I blink twice, focusing my eyes, and see the guilt plaguing Amaguq fade. Without a shout of warning or final words, I bring Whipsnap up and swing the blade down as hard as I can. There’s a sound, like shucking corn on the cob, and Amaguq’s head falls free. His body collapses. A pool of violet forms around his torso.

  I step back from the beast, breathing hard, and doing my best not to show the toll this battle and the trip through a Nephilim mind has taken on me. When it is clear that Amaguq will not be returning to this world, the soldiers clap and cheer, their relief flooding over me.

  As I step away from the body, General Holloway approaches me. He looks like he’s about to give me some kind of speech, but the words seem to come and go several times before he simply extends his hand.

  I take Holloway’s hand and shake.

  “Welcome aboard, son,” he says. “We’ll follow your lead, but the orders to my men go through me.”

  “Understood,” I say, glad to finally have an army, small as it is, to direct.

  As others come to congratulate my victory, Xin’s voice reaches me, though barely. Brother...

  He’s dying.

  “Xin!” I shout, turning to where I last saw him and breaking into a sprint. I reach him quickly and drop down to my knees beside Luca, who never left his side. When I say his name again, tears are pouring down my face, damn what these men and women think of me now.

  Brothers, Xin thinks, speaking to Luca and me simultaneously. Before I knew you, my heart was as dark as Amaguq’s. Together, you granted me forgiveness and a taste of innocence. I carry the burden of what I have done to the next life, if such a thing waits for me, but you have given me the strength to find peace.

  I can sense Luca’s overwhelming sadness. It’s a pretty fair match to my own.

  Xin’s body quakes. The motion elicits a sob from Luca. Em arrives behind the boy, putting her hand on his shoulder.

  Xin reaches up, placing his hand on the back of Luca’s neck, pulling him closer. Before my life ends, he thinks, a gift. For each of you.

  Luca’s forehead touches against Xin’s and I’m suddenly separated from the two. Luca’s eyes flutter for just a moment. Then he gasps and sits up.

  Xin turns to me. Now you.

  I lean down and place my head to Xin’s. His words fill my mind.

  This is the last time I will speak to you in life, brother. You have become the man I wish I could have been and I believe, with all that remains of me, that you will destroy the monster Nephil and all who follow him.

  Though I am in my mind with Xin, I can feel the warmth of my tears on my face, the shake of my trembling muscles as I hold myself over him, and the tightness in my throat that would keep me from speaking if we were using our mouths to talk.

  You taught me how to love, brother. And that is a gift I can’t possibly pay back, but I will try. Next time you speak to the Clarks remember something they have told you. Goodbye, Solomon.

  Goodbye, Xi—

  A wave of energy fills my head. I clench my eyes shut, afraid they will burst. The pressure builds. It moves deeper into my mind, spreading, seeping into every fold. And then, it stops.

  And Xin, my brother, is gone.

  I open my eyes and look at his body. His chest rises and falls, but more slowly with each breath. Just seconds remain. As I look at him, I remember his words about his burden. About the world to come, if such a thing waits for me. I feel the fear in those words. He is part Nephilim. Does he have a soul? Or will he simply cease to exist?

  I don’t know the answer, but there might be a way to be sure.

  I stand quickly and shout, “Kat!”

  She appears by my side still clutching the rewrapped shofar, as I knew she would. “Give it to me!”

  Xin’s chest falls and for a moment, I fear it will not rise again.

  I feel the shofar in my hands and turn it to face Xin.

  His chest rises. It’s a shallow breath, but it is enough.

  The horn sounds loudly, its blast pouring over Xin’s body. He doesn’t writhe, shriek or react in a way that a Nephilim might. Instead, he changes. The scales covering his body rise up, like flower petals and blow away in the breeze. A soft skin is revealed, human skin. The shape of his body changes, shortening and bulking. His head grows smaller, taking on a more human shape, though he remains as bald as ever. His serpentine, yellow eyes, which are staring up at the empty sky, shrink. The pupils turn circular. The color becomes blue. The transformation completes just as I run out of breath.

  The horn blast fades.

  A gentle smile forms on his human lips.

  His chest falls as his last breath escapes his now fully human body.

  Xin is dead.

  In the distance, three hundred cresties roar sorrowfully, lamenting the passing of the man who led them, a mantle that now passes to me.

  I hand the shofar back to Kat, who carefully wraps it. Kainda appears by my side. “I’m sorry,” she says and then glances down at Xin’s body and gasps. “He’s...”

  “Me,” I say. The transformation removed all about Xin that was Nephilim and changed him to all that remained. He is a hairless, but otherwise perfect copy of me. “This is who he always was.”

  Someone, I’m not sure who, hands me a blanket and I use it to cover his body. When I’m done, I feel a gentle touch on my shoulder. It’s Luca. I turn to him and hold the little version of myself tightly. I know how big I felt things as a kid. I’m kind of a mess now, and I’m supposedly hardened. I can’t imagine how hard this is for him. But then he surprises me.

  What did he give you?

  The little boy’s voice is in my head.

  A laugh escapes my mouth and I pull away, looking Luca in the eyes. He’s smiling through his tears.

  I don’t know, I reply. In fact, all I do know is that my head feels very full, almost like a sinus infection, and I’ve got a constant dull pain just behind my eyes. It might just be from the intense emotions and crying, but if Xin did something to my mind, I have no idea what it is. I certainly can’t read people’s thoughts.

  Xin is given a burial within the hour, complete with a chaplain, a prayer and a three-volley salute. It’s especially moving given the fact that most of these men and women, including Em and Kainda, either feared or did not trust Xin. In the end, he proved to be the best of us, willing to give his life for mine, and ultimately, for theirs.

  When it is done, I’m approached by Merrill, Aimee, General Holloway, Kainda, Em and Kat.

  The General takes the lead, stopping in front of me. “I’m sorry for your loss, son, and for our...behavior toward him. Toward you. But from what I understand, we might see some action within the next few weeks and I would like to prepare for it.”

  I nod, but say nothing.

  “What would you have us do?” he asks.

  I look at the familiar faces around me and stop at Merrill. He’s watching me. On my side, but he doesn’t know me. Xin’s strange request regarding the Clarks returns to my mind. Remember something they have told you.

  “Merrill,” I say. He steps forward and I extend my
hand, recalling all the conversations I had with Merrill before being kidnapped by Ninnis.

  He looks unsure, but he takes it and says, “I’m sorry for your confusion and I hope we can move past—”

  “We weren’t put on this Earth to be stagnant,” I say.

  For a moment, he just looks confused, but then a surge of energy flows from my head, across my arm and into his. He gasps as though rising from deep water. His eyes settle back on me a moment later, and widen. He looks me up and down.

  “Solomon!” A smile appears on his face, but I only see it for a moment because then he’s got me in his arms, crushing me with love. I can feel the sobs wracking his chest. His memories have been restored.

  “Merrill?” It’s Aimee. She sounds confused. He lets me go and turns to her. “It’s Solomon! He’s alive!” He seems to realize what has happened and turns to me. “She doesn’t remember yet.”

  “Merrill, what are you—”

  I step up to Aimee. This one is easy. “You are a precious boy.” I kiss her forehead. The same surge of energy courses through my lips to her head, and I don’t even get a chance to step back and see the change in her eyes before her arms are around me. She hugs and weeps and rubs my back like only a mother can. When she finally separates and looks in my eyes, she says, “You are a precious boy.”

  With a gasp, I remember the news I have for the Clarks, which is also the answer to Holloway’s question.

  “She’s alive,” I say to Aimee, and then turn to Merrill. “Mira is alive.”

  “But, the shifter,” Em says.

  “Didn’t kill her,” I say. “Xin and I saw it. In his memories. She’s alive.”

  Holloway speaks up. “If you’re right, we can send a squad to—”

  “No,” I say. “I’ll go.”

  “Son,” Holloway says, growing angry. “You have just proven your worth to my men, and me. You have also instilled in us the firm belief that we cannot win this war without you. If you leave now—”

  “General, please,” Aimee says. She might understand the logic of Holloway’s words, as do I, but as a mother, Mira comes first. As she does for me, as well.

  “I will not leave her,” I say. “How many people have died because of me? Xin. Hades. Cerberus. Wright. How may more whose names I don’t even know? I will not lose someone else—”

  “Solomon,” Kat says, stepping up next to me. She looks angry. “My husband died so that we could live to finish this fight, and I will not let you invoke his name in defense of running off to save a single girl. Your place is here now. You need to focus.”

  On the surface, I agree with Kat. There is a lot at stake, so why am I so intent on rescuing Mira? Is it for the Clarks? My promise that they would be reunited? Is it selfish? Or nostalgia. Some kind of need to see the girl in the photo again? I find the answer in Kat’s words.

  Focus.

  You have found your passion, your focus and your faith. The Kerubim’s words replay perfectly in my mind. But you lack the hope that binds these things together. You will not be strong enough to defeat Ophion until you find it.

  I look at Kat.

  Focus.

  Then at Kainda.

  Passion.

  And finally, Em.

  Faith.

  “Hope is a person,” I say. “You remember what Adoel said.” I point at each of them, identifying them one at a time. “Focus. Passion. Faith. Mira...is hope. The Kerubim said I would not be strong enough without her.”

  I’m shocked by who replies first and what she says. Kainda steps forward. “I’m coming with you.”

  I can see that Em is also about to volunteer, but I stop her. “You and Kat stay here. Prepare them. Protect the shofar. Use it if you have to. Kainda and I will travel fast.”

  We back away toward the exit.

  “Thank you,” Aimee says.

  Merrill holds her shoulders and says, “Godspeed, Solomon.”

  “We will return as fast as we can, General,” I say. “I know it’s hard to understand, but if I’ve learned anything over the past years, it’s that one person can change the outcome of a battle, or the course of history.”

  Kainda and I hurry for the gate, where Grumpy and Zok wait for us, as though summoned. I don’t understand why or how, but I’ve learned not to question everything.

  Before leaving, I turn back to the group and say, “Don’t be afraid. Hope still lives. I’m going to bring her back.”

  Epilogue

  Lieutenant Belgrave Edward Sutton Ninnis remembered.

  Everything.

  His long life as a hunter, every detail of it, still resided in his mind. All of the skills learned and knowledge attained, were still a part of him. But the burning hatred that consumed his being, especially for the boy, Solomon, had been dulled.

  More than dulled, it had been beaten down. Crushed. By a new anger, one shared by the boy himself. Their lives—what they could have been—had been stolen.

  Ninnis remembered taking Solomon. Remembered breaking him. Training him. Even feeling some sense of pride in all of it. But now he knew how the boy viewed those events. Exactly how the boy felt, because Ninnis now recalled his own breaking.

  It took nearly a year. Endless days spent in the dark. Fighting off feeders. Eating their flesh. Tending his wounds. Slowly losing himself and the memories of the woman he adored. Solomon was just a boy. Ninnis had been a man. A soldier. And when he broke, it was a violent thing that filled his heart to overflowing with rabid hatred.

  He killed the hunter who broke him first. Many more followed.

  He remembered them all, too. Their faces. Their own hatred. The smell of their blood in his nose and the look in their eyes as life faded away. All that time, Ninnis never fully realized why he enjoyed killing so much, or why he always stayed to watch their lives slip away.

  But he knew now.

  He envied them. Their freedom. And he hated them all the more for it.

  He also knew, as Solomon did, that these things were not him. Not really. Lieutenant Ninnis, the soldier, had never killed a person. He put his training to use by exploring the world. He kept a sketchbook with him wherever he went, drawing landscapes and technical drawings of animals and plants he’d never seen before. He scribbled notes about what he saw and penned letters to his wife. His Caroline. That was the real Ninnis.

  The man who had returned, though far too late.

  He hid within his own mind, a fragment of consciousness surrounded by a turbid blackness that now sought him out.

  When Solomon blew the shofar, Ninnis, who’d watched the events as though from afar, was thrust back into his mind and body, fully and completely. It was a gift, and he thanked the boy for it, but Nephil now knew Ninnis was not gone. And if he could not hide, the monster would destroy him.

  Were he still a hunter, Ninnis would have charged toward his fate, never knowing that he secretly longed for the release of death, or in this case, banishment from his own body. But now that he remembered himself, and the good person he once was, Ninnis wanted to fight.

  Ninnis, the voice echoed in his thoughts, filling his mind, seeking him out. I am close, Ninnis.

  And for once, the dark lord Nephil, the ancient Ophion, was not lying. Ninnis could feel the cold closing in around his consciousness.

  Ninnis.

  A whisper this time. Not Ophion.

  Despite having no body, he saw a bloom of light, distant at first, but then growing closer. He felt warmth.

  Ninnis, the voice beckoned.

  He moved toward the light, drawn by its warmth and repelled by the cold blackness at his back.

  But was this a trick? Who are you?

  A shape began to form in the light. A figure.

  A woman.

  Ninnis, the voice said again, and this time he recognized it.

  Caroline!

  As she came fully into view, revealing the face of the woman he loved, married and lost, she spoke again. Your time has not yet come, husband.
>
  I can feel you, Ninnis! Nephil shouted.

  As his emotions swelled, he sensed the darkness closing in, tracking him down.

  Ninnis fled the darkness and into the arms of his wife. He clung to her and she to him, their embrace impossible to sever. Ninnis felt a flood of love, forgiveness and mercy, qualities that, since the time of his own breaking, he’d experienced from only one source: Solomon.

  With the boy’s image locked in his thoughts, pressure consumed Ninnis’s formless mind, pressing him into the arms of his wife, merging them together until nothing, but light, remained.

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  JEREMY ROBINSON is the author of numerous novels including PULSE, INSTINCT, and THRESHOLD the first three books in his exciting Jack Sigler series, which is also the focus of and expanding series of co-authored novellas deemed the Chesspocalypse. Robinson also known as the #1 Amazon.com horror writer, Jeremy Bishop, author of THE SENTINEL and the controversial novel, TORMENT. His novels have been translated into ten languages. He lives in New Hampshire with his wife and three children.

  Visit him on the web, here: www.jeremyrobinsononline.com

  —SAMPLE—

  ANTARKTOS RISING by Jeremy Robinson

  Available on Kindle for $2.99. Click here to buy!

  DESCRIPTION:

  THE WORLD RACES TO CLAIM A NEW CONTINENT

  A phenomenon known as crustal displacement shifts the Earth’s crust, repositioning continents and causing countless deaths. In the wake of the global catastrophe, the world struggles to take care of its displaced billions. But Antarctica, freshly thawed and blooming, has emerged as a new hope. Rather than wage a world war no nation can endure, the leading nations devise a competition, a race to the center of Antarctica, with the three victors dividing the continent.

  It is within this race that Mirabelle Whitney, one of the few surviving experts on the continent, grouped with an American special forces unit, finds herself. But the dangers awaiting the team are far worse than feared; beyond the sour history of a torn family, beyond the nefarious intentions of their human enemies, beyond the ancient creatures reborn through anhydrobiosis—there are the Nephilim.