Fractured Earth Saga 1: Apocalypse Orphan

by Tim Allen

  “What do you mean by copies of herself? And what are these items?” Jonar interrupted.

  “She can appear in different forms and be anywhere. She is a demon with evil powers.” Haakon pointed at the items on the table and identified them one by one. “This is the false hero’s knife…and this is a weapon he used to kill a dintar.” Gesturing to Wolf’s wristwatch, he added, “That is a summoning device he uses to call the demon bitch...I will show you.” He lurched to the table and pressed random buttons on the watch.

  Back at the castle, Wolf was talking to Syn when she suddenly said, “Your watch has been activated, Commander. I am in a tent with Haakon, a black man, and Sylvaine.”

  “Deactivate it, Syn. Now!” Wolf shouted.

  Syn’s hologram materialized in front of the three men, dressed in her Tomb Raider outfit. Haakon dropped the watch on the floor, cowering in fear. She gazed at the men as Sylvaine drew his sword and positioned himself in front of Jonar.

  “So, witch, you have returned. You are no more real than my projections are,” Sylvaine laughed.

  “I am no mere projection, you fool!” Syn materialized a blade and raised it as Sylvaine drew his sword and swung. Their weapons met in midair with a loud clang, showering sparks around the room. Haakon grabbed the watch and frantically pressed buttons, thinking he was sending the demon woman back, but Syn had already severed the connection and the hologram vanished.

  Haakon babbled, “You see! The bracelet summons the witch! I saw him do it. She is evil. The witch can be everywhere at once. He is a false hero. They both must be slain!”

  Jonar looked at the watch and asked, “May I see that, my friend? I will help you kill the witch. Together, we can do it. What say you?”

  Haakon nodded and replied, “I know the outsider is not the warrior of legend. He can be hurt or even killed.”

  Jonar’s eyes lit up at that news, and he flashed a sly smile, playing devil’s advocate. “No, my friend, he is invincible. He will rule the world and all women will become his slaves.” With a wink at Sylvaine, he added, “We must protect the world from his evil and the demon bitch that serves him. If only I knew how to stop him…I would bestow great wealth and prestige to know that man’s weakness.”

  Haakon stared at Jonar and his face broke into a crazy grin. “I will tell you how to slay him, and I ask for nothing but to witness his agony.” Haakon lapsed into another babbling rant about the Nanna being diseased and dirty whores, and then he said in an even tone, “The thing that exploded had something in it that almost killed him. It hurt his ears.”

  Jonar’s eyes snapped to Haakon and he smiled. “Ah, the fire must have hurt him.”

  “No, the fire has no effect. His demon whore said it was something called harmonics. It makes his body soft like everyone else’s. That is why I now know he is not the one. A real hero can’t be hurt by harmless noise.”

  Jonar knew immediately what Wolf’s weakness was. He caught Sylvaine’s eye and cocked his head, giving Haakon an evil sneer. Sylvaine walked behind the ranting man while Jonar distracted him. Something in his hand glistened as he raised his arm, and then Haakon cried out as Sylvaine plunged his dagger into his back. Jonar drew his own dagger and stabbed Haakon in the chest, saying, “Goodbye, my friend. I’ll do this on my own. But don’t worry, I’ll send your whore wife to be with you soon enough!”

  Haakon muttered, “Slay the woman of the wasteland, do not let her breed or you bring death to your door…” his breath trailed off as he coughed up blood, closed his eyes, and died.

  “Yes, Haakon, you sinned by fathering those children and now you have your just rewards.” Jonar wiped the blood off his dagger, turning his attention to the objects Haakon had stolen. He had seen pistols and the manner in which men held them in an old book. He picked up the gun and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. Dropping it, he snatched up Wolf’s watch and said, “This is marvelous, Sylvaine. It may be what I have been searching for all these years. It is high technology—a power source, like the old books say used to exist. I will be able to use this to reactivate the machine.”

  “I thought we would use it to kill that muscle-bound buffoon,” Sylvaine complained.

  “If what this babbling lunatic said is true, we have always possessed the power.” Jonar smiled as he caressed the watch face with his fingers, being careful not to press the buttons. He now had vital information on how to fight the stranger, and how to hurt him. The simple howlers, used to keep rodents from damaging the outdoor boxes, could cause him pain. Jonar’s face broke into a sinister smile as he thought, I want it all! He told Sylvaine, “Recall the troops and return to Danmore Castle. We will attack another day.”

  “Master, the men will not like it. The ruffians have been sipping drynox for hours, and they are looking forward to rapine and slaughter. It could cause us to lose face. Not only that, they are in a killing frenzy and can’t be reined in.”

  “What do I care? When I figure this out, we will not need an army. This is real power,” Jonar declared, holding up the watch. “Remember, the machine is what I want most of all, and the demon witch is the key to unlocking it. I saw the light flash on the machine when that man first arrived. That same light moves whenever he travels. I know he has something…a ship that follows him, and that witch will give it to me. The howler signal affects his power to talk with the witch, and I have changed its noise further. The ancients were a strange race, leaving books that explained how to create such wonders. The machine is complicated and may need repair, but I know the witch can repair it. Then, I can call the Old Ones. I will ask them to return and take us to the stars.”

  Noticing Sylvaine’s angry expression, Jonar chuckled and asked, “Honestly, my friend, do you think we can take the castle with the men we have?”

  Sylvaine considered the numbers and scowled. “We will lose thousands and may only force the exterior gates. We would never get to the Bridge of Heroes.”

  After considering for a moment, Jonar said, “This is what I will do, Sylvaine. I will give you the ruffian army to attack the castle, and we will give this legendary warrior a surprise. Give the men pure drynox.”

  Sylvaine stared at Jonar in shock.

  “I want them insane for this fight,” Jonar said. “You will like what I have in store for the outsider. When you encounter him, give him my regards. Let the ruffians fight and do as much damage as possible. I will bring my main army back to defend our homeland against the Nanna. Take the remainder of the army and attack the castle, although I doubt you will have many men left when you are done playing.”

  “Aye, my lord, I will destroy the castle gates. When we return to attack the next time, they will be gone.”

  Jonar glanced down at Haakon’s lifeless body and said, “Put this fool in a box, along with these two items.” He handed Sylvaine two large cylinders. “Deliver the box to Waylan’s castle immediately. This should create a certain amount of tension and chaos.”

  Both men laughed as Sylvaine summoned soldiers to drag Haakon’s body away and clean the bloody area where the man had been murdered.

  * * *

  Back at Waylan’s castle, in the privacy of the ship, Wolf was quizzing Syn about what she saw at Jonar’s camp and asked, “What did they look like, Syn?”

  “I assume you mean Jonar? He’s an African, I believe. Very handsome and fearless. I tried to slay him but Sylvaine engaged me. I’m sorry, Commander, but not only did I fail to slay him, I also failed to scan him. I’ve locked out the watch. I can track it by its radioactive power source, and I can reactivate it if we recover it. But I worry Jonar might reverse engineer its technology if he is as smart as we think he is. Haakon may have given him easy access to our advanced technology.”

  “Damn it, I can’t believe Haakon would betray us. What the hell happened to him?”

  “His close call with death unhinged him…and he was very jealous of you. He knew Nala was in love with you. He sensed it on your first meeting. I detected her h
ormonal activity when she first saw you, but I paid no attention. I knew you would respect her marriage to Haakon. But it seems every woman who gets around you wants to mate with you,” Syn remarked with a rueful smile.

  “I didn’t know she was in love with me. I felt something when we touched, but I didn’t react to it. I should have told you.”

  “I knew, Wolf. I monitor you too,” Syn admitted. “I don’t mind. You know I love Nala.”

  “Syn, please don’t. I am already on the verge of going as crazy as Haakon. Please don’t add this. You know I can never be with Nala anyway. I have so many biological hazards from the twenty-first century in my system, it could kill her.”

  “Commander, when Nala was injured, I inoculated her against everything and anything you could possibly give her. She is the only woman on this planet you could mate with and not put in danger,” Syn said.

  “What about you, Syn? You’re a woman,” Wolf said, watching her reaction.

  “Why do you torture me, Wolf? I am light and energy. What I feel for you may be just a program in my memory core put there by my creator. I can’t give you what you need now, and Nala can. You don’t age as these people do, Wolf—they grow old much faster. Enjoy Nala and any life you may have together while you can.” Syn’s voice was cool and detached, sounding as if she would soon depart Wolf’s life and he might never see her again.

  Wolf’s mind filled with a sense of foreboding. He was about to respond when a soldier approached with a sense of urgency and announced, “King Waylan requests your presence at the front gate of the castle, my lord. Please come at once.”

  Wolf gave Syn a sad smile and promised to return soon. She tapped into the satellite feed as he left, zooming in on the front gate. When she saw blood pooled around the corners of a large wooden box, she thought, My poor Wolf. Your guilt will never let you find love now.

  * * *

  Wolf accompanied the guard through the castle and came upon Onel conversing with the priest Randelf. The priest’s face broke into a broad smile as he shook Wolf’s hand.

  “Greetings, Randelf. How do you like the book?” Wolf asked.

  “It is amazing, my lord. The writing is profoundly beautiful. I weep from the sheer beauty of its words. The book you have given to us will reshape our world. I am now reading the Book of Psalms. Everyone who reads the passages is amazed,” Randelf answered.

  “It gets a lot better, my friend. When you finish reading the Old Testaments, the Son of God arrives and the world changes. Do not skip any chapters…they are well worth the time to read. Now come, Onel, the king has something important to show us,” said Wolf.

  Eras and King Waylan were waiting at the castle’s main gate. When Wolf approached, Eras cautioned, “It’s not pretty, my lord. A while ago, several ruffians came out of the forest. They approached the castle wall, dragging that box.” He gestured towards the main portcullis where a large wooden box had been placed. “The ruffians stopped just beyond spear range and left the box. We went out to inspect it.”

  “Show me,” Wolf ordered, swallowing hard as he fought back a sinking feeling.

  A guard pulled open the lid, and Wolf gazed inside at Haakon’s mutilated corpse. It had been hacked into pieces, and his severed head was positioned to display a large “S” carved into his forehead.

  “It is the bloody mark of Sylvaine the butcher,” Waylan muttered in disgust.

  “I will rip his head off with my bare hands,” Wolf muttered through clenched teeth. His face flushed crimson with rage. “Why would he do this?”

  “He does it to push you over the edge and bring you outside to fight on his terms,” said Onel.

  “I will kill him. He will get what he wants now. I will destroy Jonar and everyone with him,” Wolf vowed.

  “Commander, a large army is approaching to attack the gate. I estimate eleven thousand,” Syn reported in Wolf’s ear.

  “King Waylan, alert your men. Jonar approaches with an army of thousands. Prepare for battle!” Wolf shouted.

  Waylan flexed his arms and ordered, “Knights! Squires! Spearmen! Prepare to repel the invaders!”

  “I will go out to attack,” Wolf said to Waylan, grabbing a sword from a man at arms and tucking it into his belt. He then took a large, ornate war ax from the wall and walked outside. The portcullis slammed down behind him with a thud that sent a tremor through the earth underfoot.

  “Commander, don’t be silly. Get inside now!” Syn yelled.

  Wolf took off running towards the enemy as the first wave of ruffians charged across the plain, screaming insanely and brandishing an assortment of primitive weapons. He leapt into the air and came down in the midst of the enemy like a bomb, sending men and body parts scattering in all directions. Using his fists, he knocked down one cursing man after another, trying to avoid killing them. He blocked several sword thrusts with his large war ax and urged the attacking men to retreat. Then, he saw their vacant stares and foaming mouths, and heard their insane babbling, and he knew these men were lost forever.

  With a deep sigh of regret, Wolf muttered, “So be it!” He drew his sword and brought it down with one hand, hacking a man in two with an overhead swing. Swinging his ax at another man, he cut his head off cleanly. He waded into the onrushing sea of attackers, wielding the sword with one hand and the ax with the other. Men went down one after another as he cut them apart. Even in his rage over Haakon’s senseless murder, he didn’t want to kill these men—he wanted their leaders. He kept telling those who faced him to surrender, to run away, but they just kept coming.

  Waylan was watching from the castle gate. He had sent a runner for his battle armor, and he was rallying his spearmen to the gate. As he looked on, ruffians attacked from all sides. Wolf rose above the blood-soaked plain, climbing up a hill of death and sinking moments later into a pile of mangled flesh. Waylan roared with pride that such a brave warrior was fighting for him. He pulled a sword from a guard and declared, “I will assist him. No man fights my battles alone!”

  Onel grabbed his brother’s shoulder and asked, “Are you sure you are fit?”

  “I have not felt better in years,” Waylan answered. “Wolf’s woman even removed the metal from my leg. Let me go, brother.”

  Onel paled and demanded, “Give me the fragment.”

  “Wolf’s woman has it. Now release me!” Waylan growled, becoming agitated.

  “Waylan, wait! You can’t go out there and fight without your armor. Wolf is invincible. You are not,” Onel argued.

  “How can I stand here and watch him fight? Am I not a man? Am I not a king?” Waylan struggled to wrench his arm free from Onel’s surprisingly strong grip.

  “Yes, you are king, but I am oldest and you will wait for your armor!” Onel said with more force than Waylan had ever heard from him before. Waylan stopped struggling and replied, “Yes, my brother. I will concede to you as oldest.”

  Wolf’s slaughter of the ruffians raged on for another fifteen minutes. Finally, two soldiers approached Waylan, carrying the king’s massive armor. The men were exhausted and perspiring from the effort.

  “Get my armor on me at once!” the king shouted, pointing out at the battlefield. “Look at him, men. There is a true warrior!” Waylan stripped, and his squires dressed him in his battle armor. Grabbing his sword, he yelled, “Open the gate!”

  Onel gazed out at the battlefield and couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Wolf, a one-man killing machine, was mowing down Jonar’s vast army. “Sire, you have but a few hundred spearmen. Wait until the rest arrive,” he urged.

  “A brave warrior out there fights for me! Can I do any less for him?” Waylan shouted. “Old Guard! We have fought many battles, vanquished many enemies, and slain many foes. I ask you one more time, my loyal friends, give me your courage. Give me your hearts. Give me your power to defeat these evil men who attack us, and to uphold justice. They laugh at our age, tell jokes about our waning strength. Let us show them what men once roamed this land while they wer
e sucking milk from their mothers’ breasts! I am Waylan of Springdale, and I say ‘Death to Jonar!’”

  Waylan’s men yelled the chorus, “Death to Jonar,” chanting it again and again like a mantra. The massive portcullis opened with a creaking groan. Waylan and his Old Guard surged through the gate, hitting the enemy ranks like a freight train. The king was still sore, but he came on like a whirlwind and tried to battle to Wolf’s side, leaving his Old Guard warriors to clean up his leftovers. While Wolf allowed swords, knives, and clubs to strike him, and he dealt death to anyone close by, Waylan avoided the strikes aimed at him. He swung his heavy sword like a willow switch, striking death wherever it touched as he fought his way towards Wolf.

  Sylvaine spotted Wolf and walked towards him, slaying his own ruffians who blocked his path. He carried a small wooden box. Placing it on the ground, he flipped a switch and turned a dial that clicked. He then shoved the box under a bloody corpse to conceal it. At that same instant, the wooden box that held Haakon’s body at the castle gate started ticking.

  Sylvaine moved closer to Wolf. When he was face to face, he hissed, “So, buffoon, we meet again. My master has a surprise for you.” Wolf ran at Sylvaine and they exchanged sword strokes. Sylvaine was quick and dexterous but knew he couldn’t withstand a direct stroke, so he used redirection to avoid Wolf’s mighty sword.

  “You are no hero, you jackass. You kill weak men with ease, but see how skill evens the score,” Sylvaine shouted. He landed a series of slashes to Wolf’s body but merely shredded his clothes.

  “I will kill you! Why would you murder an insane man?” Wolf shouted, rage in his eyes.

  “I did the world a favor. I did you a favor, too, by clearing your way to his whore wife’s heart. That lunatic told us of your love for his Nanna wife, how you coveted her. You are a wife stealer, an adulterer—a lecher of a man. How could you betray a friend for his wife? Now that I have killed him, your conscience can be clear. She can be your whore now,” Sylvaine said with a laugh, backing towards the box he had concealed.