Mercivil snapped the reins. I can't ever remember having visitors from Texas.
During the ride, her heart raced with excitement as she showered questions on her companion, who patiently responded to each and every one.
After arriving at the cabin and helping the guests get settled, Mercivil grabbed Amelia's hand. "You must be weary from the long trip. We're going to let you rest awhile."
She glanced at Intellulka and tilted her head toward the wagons. "I'll return in about four hours with a nice hot meal, and if you don't mind, I'll also bring my closest friends, Thoruk and Stormulka. We'll eat and share many exciting tales. I'd love to hear more of your adventures, especially how you two met."
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Amelia Earhart of the New World
Monday ~ September 23, 2075 ~ 4:30 pm
While straightening a beautifully-stitched quilt with an attractive assortment of blue, lavender, and lime colors, Amelia heard a light tap. She walked to the door and swung it open.
Before her stood Mercivil and two young, muscular men, one holding a large, black kettle with steam rising around the lid. My, my, my, Mercy's friends are a couple of fine specimens! How can she still be single? Being one who usually expressed every notion that entered her head, it was difficult to fight the urge to blurt her thoughts.
Her mouth watered from a whiff of the savory meal. "Mmm, that smells great. I can't wait, I'm famished." She gently tugged Mercivil's arm. "Come on in. Introduce your friends."
"Amelia and Howard, these are my best buddies in the world, Thoruk and Stormulka. We are the three young adventurers who were with Intellulka at the Texas delegation meeting several years ago."
Amelia's smile widened as she hugged the handsome men. "Hi, I'm honored to meet y'all. I'd love to hear about your journeys during our stay! I'm Amelia Drake, and this is my husband, Howard."
The tall, slender gentleman vigorously shook Thoruk's hand. "I've heard remarkable things about you and your village, and I'm thrilled to finally meet you. I'd be honored to listen to your views regarding leadership sometime."
Turning, the brown-haired man gave Stormulka's hand one shake. "Nice to meet you too."
"Mercy, let me help you." Amelia liberated a basket from Mercivil's grasp and glanced at Thoruk. "Go ahead and put the pot on the stove."
Thoruk and Stormulka shot a quick glimpse at each other. Amelia overheard their whispers. "Mercy? Already? That was fast. Texans sure talk funny."
After helping set the table lit by two large candles, Thoruk spoke up. "Let me say grace before we eat." Amelia and the others bowed their heads. "Dear Lord, please bless this food and our wonderful guests. Please help their visit be a pleasant one which we all can share. We ask You to bless our village and protect us from those who would do us harm. Thank you, Lord."
Amelia responded in unison with the others, but with her twang. "Amen." Breaking a fleeting moment of silence, a small flame in the stone fireplace crackled and filled the air with a hint of burning oak. "I love the way you fixed this cabin, Mercy. The colors of the curtains and quilt are refreshing — it's very cozy."
"Thank you." Mercivil took Amelia's plate and grabbed the serving spoon leaning against the side of the kettle. "I hope you like venison stew; it's my mom's favorite recipe."
Amelia smiled. "We love venison. It's one of the more common meats served around Old North America."
"Good." Mercivil returned the dish filled to the edges and reached for Howard's. "Why don't you tell us how you two met. I'm dying to hear your story."
Amelia peered at Howard who pointed at her. "You better do the talking tonight. You're a much livelier storyteller than I."
She grinned. "Okay. It all started at a Texas National Championship football game."
Mercivil scrunched her nose. "Football? What's that?"
"Oh shoot, I forgot; football's only played in a few areas these days. The short version is that there are two teams doing a lot of running, shoving, and tackling to get an elliptical-shaped ball across the opponent's goal line. I know it sounds crazy, but believe me, the fans are absolutely fanatical about their team. Most colleges and universities have some kind of hand signal used by students and alumni to show who they're cheering for.
"Anyway, that's how we met. We were at a game between the University of Texas and Texas A&M. They called a timeout on the field, and I ran to go buy a drink. Gung-ho as I am, I dashed around a corner with my lemonade in hand and plowed into a young man. Both of our drinks went flying, drenching the unfortunate soul."
She gazed at her husband. "To my surprise, the soaked man calmly smiled and said, 'watch where you fly that thing!' Realizing he was a pilot — an exceptionally handsome one to boot — I looked at his finger, saw no ring, and dove in, giving him a big smooch. It was love at first sight!
"After a VERY prolonged kiss, I grabbed his shoulders and held him at bay, proudly displaying my magnificent white teeth and declared, in my well-honed, southern accent, 'I'm a flier too!' Then I flashed my A&M thumb-up sign at him, shouting 'Gig-em Aggies!'" She showed them the Gig-em gesture.
"The poor sap didn't know what hit him. He leapt back, almost causing me to fall flat on my face, frowned, and revealed his Texas index-and-pinkie finger sign, thundering 'Hook-em Horns!'" She demonstrated her version of the gesture, upside down.
Howard butted in. "It's really like this." He illustrated the proper position to hold the hand.
Amelia continued. "Oh, if you say so. Anyway, we stared at each other for a second, shrugged, lurched toward one another, and locked lips, surfacing for air every five minutes, or so it seemed. He fell head over heels for me right on the spot."
She smiled at her husband. "We got married three months later and never looked back. For our honeymoon, we flew everywhere in Old North America. We've enjoyed living each moment to its fullest.
"For years we tried having children, but it wasn't meant to be. We decided to dedicate our lives to fighting for freedom, wherever we are needed, hence our trip here. When y'all sent for help, we immediately volunteered. Having heard about Ukkiville before, we knew our fate was to join the fight for your cause."
Tears flooded Mercivil's eyes.
Stormulka couldn't resist. "Mercy, you're such a sap."
"Oh, hush." She sniffled.
Amelia looked at her. "How about you, Mercy — why aren't you married?"
Obviously caught off guard, her neck flushed. "Heavens no, I'm far too busy!" She fidgeted in her seat and gazed at Amelia with a shake of her head. "I'd much rather hear more about you. How did you get your name? It's beautiful and sounds familiar."
"Thank you. My mother named me after Amelia Earhart, the aviation pioneer from the Old United States. My grandfather was an Air Force pilot who gave me model fighter planes flown in all the different wars the U.S. fought to preserve freedom. It's no wonder I became a pilot when I grew up.
"I just love soaring above the clouds, admiring the sunsets, storms, and the earth below as I zoom across the sky. It's a perspective few in the New World ever experience."
Stormulka cocked his head. "Where do you get fuel to fly so far?"
"Many of the Texas refineries survived WAP. Aviation fuel is transported to a limited number of the larger trading posts with nearby landing strips across the Old United States and Old Canada. We carry a map of the strategic locations whenever we travel. There's one in Old Bismarck, North Dakota, where we filled our tanks before coming here."
She turned to Mercivil and clutched her hand. "I sure hope you can fly with me someday and visit us in Texas." She looked around the table. "Y'all can come too. Our home is open any time. We'll even pick you up in our private plane if you'd like."
Mercivil's eyelids lifted as far as they could. "Really? I'd love to fly — and go to Texas! It sounds amazing!"
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Muclone Mission
Saturday ~ September 28, 2075 ~ 8:30 am
Doomsday loomed as Wolfuk and Foxu
k headed toward the Skalag camp to conduct the next phase of the battle plan. Being the eldest, Wolfuk led the way on horseback. He held the reins in one hand and faced his brother. "So, you told Protuk the Scargiles are joining the Skalags to attack Ukkiville on October 3rd, right?"
His younger sibling, who could pass as his twin with straight, black hair and a squared jaw, turned partway. "Yep, Zolokt needed more time to prepare additional muclones, and his cousin, Gunkoft, plans to join forces."
Wolfuk shook his head. "It's good you found out when they'll be advancing, but Protuk isn't taking any chances. He's placed extra sentries near the trails to signal if there's a surprise attack. By the way, he and Thoruk appreciated your handling of the last mission."
His favorite fishing and hunting partner smiled. "I'm just happy I could help. Thanks for recommending me. It meant a lot."
"You earned their trust. Besides, you're my scrawny, little brother." He chuckled as Foxuk flashed the evil look he always used when called "scrawny."
Wolfuk gently snapped the reins. "We'll follow the trail along the base of Caribou Mount. It's not as visible to the Skalags."
Foxuk pointed to the packhorse in tow behind him. "Why such a big load this trip?"
"We have two enemy positions to take out. To level the field, we must destroy as many warriors, weapons, and facilities as possible — muclones too. We need to demolish each location simultaneously so neither can warn the other. Tropokt will go with you to hit the Scargiles. I'll wipe out the Skalag's operations."
"Sounds a bit tricky. We might get delayed by the savages at some point."
"You're right. This is the most dangerous mission we've conducted but also the most important. We have to do this right! Ukkiville's fate depends on us neutralizing much of the enemy's power."
"How can the three of us do enough damage?"
"Remember what I told you about the muclones and Zolokt's facilities? It's a large operation that requires unusual means to cripple it. We'll do well if we destroy 40 to 60 percent of their munitions and even more of the labs and monsters. We're going to use explosives we received from Texas. The dynamite will eliminate a few clansmen and muclones but won't totally disable the labs."
He tugged the reins and looked into Foxuk's eyes. "What I'm going to tell you is a secret, not to be shared. Only four people are aware of this weapon: Thoruk, Protuk, Intellulka, and I. Thoruk and I were informed last month after the battle preparations meeting. Tomorrow, I'll tell Tropokt enough to be safe when you trigger it."
"What kind of weapon are you talking about?"
"I don't know all the specifics. Intellulka is the only one who understands how it really works. The rest of us barely comprehend the minimum to set it off and clear the area before getting fried. The professor referred to it as a miniature electromagnetic pulse generator, or EMP.
"The only reason I know anything of this technology is that he made me read the book about Texas, which described nuclear bombs and EMPs." He looked around for a moment, then continued.
"Intellulka said he and another friend, Jacob, invented the plasma-based device many years ago — before the World Annihilation Period — using something called nanotechnology from knowledge gained during their first job. This weapon is smaller, but deadlier over a limited area, than the EMPs used by the instigators of WAP.
"They improved the design to develop energy waves which impact the brain in addition to electronic equipment. The devices you are toting can scorch the nervous system of all beings within its range, instantly killing hundreds, whether they be human, animal, or Zolokt's muclones.
"The professor warned that the surge is like a lightning bolt scattering across all nerves, running up the spine, and exploding into the brain, incinerating everything in its wake."
Foxuk scrunched his nose and glared at him. "You're joking, right? I have no idea what you just said other than a lot of instant deaths from toasted nerves and brains — and you want me to detonate such a thing? How are we supposed to survive?"
"I'll explain it further when we talk to Tropokt. For now, you don't need to know anymore until we get near the encampment."
"Alright, if you say so, but just make sure your favorite brother doesn't end up with a charred cranium. I kind of enjoy fishing and hunting with you once in awhile."
Wolfuk laughed. "Okay, I'll do the best I can. Come on, we have a lot to do in a very short time. Let's go!"
The Next Day ~ 4:45 pm
Within a mile of the Skalag encampment, Wolfuk scanned the trail. Where is Tropokt's mark? It'll be dark soon. Further ahead, he pulled the reins and looked at Foxuk. "See there." He pointed to two small pine branches lying next to each other. "That's it. We need to get off here and keep out of sight of any sentries."
Foxuk dismounted. "During the last mission, Tropokt told me we should lead our horses directly into the forest and follow markers until we find a clearing."
After a half hour, Wolfuk found the glade and motioned. "Hide behind those bushes." Joining his brother, he cupped his hands around his mouth and whistled the rare blue robin call he used before. He repeated it. A few seconds later, three repetitive chirps pierced the air.
Wolfuk whispered. "Wait till we see him and he signals everything is okay." Tropokt appeared at the clearing's edge and flashed the all clear. Leading the steeds, they joined their contact.
The trusted spy gave Wolfuk a hug and did the same with Foxuk. "You're timing's right. They've increased the guards and expanded the boundaries ahead of the battle. Zolokt suspects Ukkiville is up to something. We've got to be very careful."
The Skalag insider waved them forward. "We'll go to a safer spot to discuss plans."
They walked along a line of lifeless trees donning eerie skeleton fingers for branches. Continuing deeper into the woods by a creek, Tropokt raised his hand. "Let's talk here. The water's noise will cover our conversation."
Wolfuk repeated a portion of the explanation about the secret device shared with his sibling earlier — enough for the mole to operate it.
Tropokt's eyes bulged. "For years there have been rumors that Ukkiville possessed a devastating weapon. Since it wasn't unveiled in previous raids on your village, Zolokt dismissed it. He's not expecting anything like this."
Wolfuk stared at him. "Good! It should remain that way. We must surprise both the Skalags and Scargiles when we set off the devices. We'll have..." A twig snapped to the rear. Startled, he and his cohorts whirled.
Lifting his finger to his lips, Tropokt mouthed. "I'll check it out — stay here."
He slowly tiptoed up the hill and peeked over a log. He turned and smiled, flashing the okay sign, then slid back down. "It's only a deer. Shivers, we don't need that kind of scare right now." He nodded to Wolfuk. "Go on — you were saying, we'll have..."
"Ah yes, we'll have to split up and strike the two encampments in parallel. I thought it best if you and Foxuk take out the Scargile installations together. I'll hit the Skalag positions. You showed me their location during my last trip, and I can handle this end.
"We'll stage the detonations for the same time in the shadows of dusk tomorrow. It's important to get the sequence correct as discussed before. Do NOT reverse the order! Set the timers to go off as follows: EMPs first at 7:10 pm, followed by the explosives one minute later — exactly. Let's sync our watches and wind them tight."
Furrowing his brow, Wolfuk glared at his partner, then directly into his brother's eyes. "Remember, after you've set the timers, you must run as fast as possible. You have to be at least 200 yards away from the EMP weapon when it detonates to avoid being toasted on the inside. Understood?"
CHAPTER THIRTY
Dodging and Weaving
Monday ~ September 30, 2075 ~ 6:35 pm
After setting up the EMP device and all but one of the explosives, Wolfuk looked from behind a rocky cliff. He observed the second entrance to the cave which housed weapons, Zolokt's labs, and muclones. Nearby were a half dozen very large, dilapidated
cages, similar to those he saw on his last scouting mission. A putrid stench bombarded his nostrils, and he quickly covered his nose and mouth.
Something moved. Blazes, what has huge, furry legs like that?
A cluster of maples, cloaked in a splash of brilliant red, yellow, and peach colors stood between him and the creatures' prisons, partially blocking his vision. To one side, a canyon dropped off into black nothingness; on the other, two Skalags guarded the cavern's entry.
How can I distract them? He scanned the area and found an apple-sized stone, grabbed it, and threw it behind the animal enclosures, where it rolled down the rocky cliff creating lots of noise. Both sentries rushed and searched around the make-shift pens, spooking the creatures into a confusion of horrific roars, snorts, and shrieks.
Wolfuk sprinted to the cave, finding a wagon-sized boulder close to the entrance. After wedging six tightly-wrapped sticks of dynamite in the space between it and the wall, he placed a timer and associated sparker next to them.
While he worked, sounds of whips and dreadful screeches — that only starved or tortured beings would unleash — filled the air. He abhorred such monsters but felt sorry for the atrocious treatment they suffered under Zolokt.
With everything readied, he set the mechanical timer and peered around the boulder toward his exit path. It was too late; the two armed men had returned to their post.
Shivers, now I've got to deal with them. He glanced at his watch — just 17 minutes remained. As he was about to rise, a nerve-grinding growl echoed deep in the cavern, followed by someone screaming. One of the guards, a muscle-bound ox of a man, dashed into the depths of the cavern not noticing Wolfuk.
Pulsing with adrenalin, he unsheathed his knife and raced toward the remaining sentry at the entrance. Wolfuk dove, crashing chest high into the young Skalag, knocking him off his feet as they tumbled together near the cages. At the end of the tussle, Wolfuk sat atop the warrior's torso, pinning his hands to the ground.
The New World: A Step Backward Page 15