A short, pudgy boy with baby-fat cheeks and not much muscle lay beneath him. In fear, the youngster's wide eyes darted side to side.
He isn't any older than 15. I can't kill him! Wolfuk snatched his haggard captor's sword and lifted him with one arm.
He pointed down the trail opposite the direction he planned to escape. "GO! You better run for your life and don't look back, or I'll feed you to the muclones!" Without hesitation, the terrified boy scampered like a scared rabbit.
Seconds Later
Behind the large munitions tent at the Scargile's camp, Foxuk set the timer for the last cluster of explosives. As agreed, he relied on Tropokt to simultaneously position the EMP device at least 150 yards away, in close proximity to the encampment.
Finished at his end, Foxuk sprinted along the path, away from the imminent danger. I don't want to be one of those crispy critters! Under the moon's faint glow he scarcely made out the edge of the trees ahead.
From a distance to his rear, short, loud pops broke the night's silence — whizzing whistles streamed by his ears. What on earth? Confident the zinging particles accompanied dire consequences, his heart raced as his neck warmed. Within 30 yards of the woods, he swerved one way then another, randomly changing the spacing and timing of his dodges, hoping to avoid whatever hurled past him.
Ear-piercing pops persisted, followed by high-pitched hisses zipping nearer to him as he weaved. He gritted his teeth and ran faster until his legs gave out. A horrifying force lifted Foxuk into the air and slammed him onto the ground, head first. His face and nose plowed through the leaves and mud.
Relentless, searing pain stabbed his back. His legs barely responded. While trying to rise, a tormenting burn knifed through his spine and the side of his gut. He reached down — the searing agony in his stomach felt wet.
When he raised his hand in front of his eyes, the sight of his own blood, dripping from his fingers, caused him to gag. He held it in; the acidic juices left a disgusting taste in his throat. Foxuk glanced lower. Bright red gunk seeped out of a big hole in his coat, down the hide, and onto his boot. He dropped to his knees, gagged again, then puked.
The mysterious sounds subsided, but he took no chances. Though his legs resisted his urges, he willed himself to crawl forward. I need to get out of here, the dynamite is about to....
A blinding flare and tremendous explosion smacked him flat to the ground again. He couldn't hear or see a thing, but he continued to claw and scramble on his fours. Scorching pain tortured his belly as overwhelming panic stole his breath.
Excruciating throbs hammered his head as numbness crept up his thighs and lower spine. While inching onward with his elbows, a horrid sensation swelled, and he glanced back to find his legs dragging in a trail of blood. Wolfuk, where are you? Help me — I don't want to die!
At the Same Time
After making sure the horrified Skalag sentry retreated, Wolfuk fled as fast as possible in the opposite direction, knowing only minutes remained before the EMP and explosives at the encampment and caves detonated. With a rush of adrenalin, he arched his back and sprinted harder than ever, refusing to look behind.
A brilliant light flashed across the surrounding cliffs, instantly followed by a thunderous blast. The concussion's invisible energy thrust him in the air. As he hit the ground sprawling, rocks from the bluff above pelted the earth around him. Covering his head with his hands, he blinked and scrunched his face while a blaring ring persistently swamped his ears.
A Minute Later
While Foxuk doggedly inched forward in a grueling crawl, a sudden voice startled him. He glanced up to notice Tropokt grabbing him under the arm to help him rise; but he couldn't feel the lower half of his body. The trusted informant lugged him into the forest as his lifeless feet scraped along the mud.
Blurs streaked by Foxuk as disjointed fragments of his past flickered through his mind. He grimaced and turned toward Tropokt. "I'm hurt ... I need Wolf...." Everything went black.
Twenty Minutes Later
In the distance under the crescent moon's dim glow, Wolfuk noticed faint blobs approaching the rendezvous clearing in the woods. When they neared, he saw only one man leading a horse, the other lay across the second steed's back. His heart skipped a beat.
Sprinting to their side and spotting his brother's bloodied coat, a sharp pain spiked his chest. "What happened?"
Tropokt jumped from his mount. "He was shot by a rifle! It's bad. He keeps asking for you."
"A rifle?" Wolfuk ran to Foxuk and checked for a pulse. It was almost non-existent. "He's dying. Help me get him down and put him over there." He pointed to a nearby elm.
After he sat his younger sibling against the tree, Foxuk's unconscious body slumped forward. Wolfuk snapped his fingers in front of his face. "Foxuk! It's me — Wolfuk!" He softly tapped his cheek. "Wake up!"
His stricken brother slowly moved his lips and softly groaned. "Wh ... at?"
"It's me — Wolfuk!"
Foxuk's heavy eyelids barely opened to a slit. "Big brother — is that you?"
Tears cascaded down Wolfuk's cheeks. "Yes, I'm here, buddy."
"I did it. We destroyed the Scargile camp — and I wasn't toasted. Aren't you proud?"
Wolfuk's eyes flooded again. "I know — I'm so proud of you — always have been." He hugged his dying brother to his chest, gently rocking. "I love you. I'm going to take you home now."
Turning his head gingerly, Foxuk peered at him, then went limp.
Wolfuk swayed and whispered. "Oh no, not you." He placed his hands over his little brother's eyes and carefully closed them. Foxuk's haunting words on the trail about fishing and hunting speared his heart. "NOOO! Don't take him!"
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Battle Stations
Thursday ~ October 3, 2075 ~ 8:20 am
Scanning the sky, Thoruk spotted a flaming arrow — a signal to the bell keeper to warn the village. They're here — only two miles away! The church bells' incessant clang resonated through the air as he observed warriors taking their assigned positions along the top of the wall and around the grounds of Ukkiville.
An icy shiver shot through Thoruk's body as he saw his breath and that of others. The villagers wore light-weight coats, made from a variety of deer, elk, cow, and caribou hides. Most donned head coverings of raccoon furs, wool, or hoods. Thoruk decided against a hat but wore the elk hide with a stitched-in hood his father had used during autumn's brisk weather.
Even though the villagers had practiced battle station routines several times the past couple of weeks, he noticed many were edgy while some were frantic with a real war about to be unleashed.
He turned to Protuk. "It's time. Let's take our positions."
As Thoruk sprinted toward his command post, he slid to a stop when he encountered Mercivil and Intellulka. "Is everybody in place on the ground?"
Mercivil nodded. "We're ready. Now go!"
He pivoted and bolted to the middle of the western wall. When he arrived, he leapt to the ladder's second rung and ran up the rest, hopping on the platform at the top.
After getting in position, he grabbed a green flag and waved it. To his left, Bartuk swung his banner to indicate his archers were set. Barely visible in the southwest corner, Protuk lifted his flag to confirm his team was in place atop the perimeter.
Retrieving a small spyglass from his belt, Thoruk lifted it to his eye to account for the others along the wall's lofty walkway. He located Stormulka and Tradulka on each side of the drawbridge, then spun to see Wolfuk and his archers between him and the northwest corner.
In the distance he observed large plumes of dust billowing along the mountain trails which intersected the broader road to Ukkiville. Only shifting, distorted shadows were discernible in the dawn's dim haze. But as broken clouds released more sunlight, blobs morphed to distinguishable shapes of warriors and muclones. His heart raced.
A relentless clank and rattle of enemy wagons and weapons, accompanied by the dull rumble of
approaching feet and hooves, grew louder as the detested pillagers neared within a quarter of a mile. He fully extended the spyglass and found his hated nemesis driving a red, dust-covered chariot at the front of the first big battalion. Thoruk's nostrils flared as he snarled under his breath. "Bid farewell to Earth, Zolokt!"
The Skalags were dressed in their usual winter grizzly and black bear hides with assorted animal head dressings — some included antlers, a few wildcats, and others used grizzlies. As the dreadful fighters closed, Thoruk spotted cages of varied sizes: one very tall, three quite large, and a half dozen smaller enclosures.
Bringing up the rear, the Scargiles wore a wide range of scraggly fur coverings. Thoruk's attention settled on a big, muscular man maneuvering a weathered, blue chariot, leading the last platoon.
Flanked on both sides, the leader's warriors toted a catapult and something Thoruk had never seen before — a huge steel tube, like an over-sized rifle barrel, propped between two wagon wheels. He figured it to be the cannon Wolfuk described and was glad the tracker and his brother destroyed what they did. Thoruk shook his head and exhaled when a momentary thought of Foxuk's death intruded.
As the enemy battalions got within an eighth of a mile, the Skalags broke off in lines, marching south and perpendicular to the trail, while the Scargiles veered north. The only exceptions were the catapult and cannon teams which followed Zolokt's cages.
Turning in Mercivil's direction, Thoruk motioned with his arm to identify the location of the largest weapons so she could be better prepared for possible wall breaches and flaming projectiles clearing the perimeter. When the platoons established their offensive positions, details of the unearthly creatures, which he and the villagers would shortly face, took shape.
A beast walking down the ramp from the first cage was extremely tall with palm-sized, yellowish-tan splotches that dotted its white coat. Upon its very long neck was perched the head of a wildcat, which growled at the handlers. Thoruk's gaze darted to and fro as he pondered the potential uses for such an odd being. After months of training, the Skalags obviously had fairly good control of the dangerous muclones at that instant, using whips, reins, and spurs.
A mammoth, gray creature with wiry hair, flat feet, and thick legs, rounder than his own waist, exited one of the huge enclosures. Its head was gigantic with tiny, round ears, a squared-off snout, and only a few teeth, including a pair of spiked tusks jutting from the lower jaw. Blazes, that's the biggest beast I've ever seen!
Thoruk scoured his memory for clues from past readings. Could it be an elephant — or a hippo? His eyes bulged. It's both! I'm not sure the wall can handle something that size!
Fierce roars of pain interrupted his attention as he shifted his glare to Zolokt, who unmercifully whipped two wretched beings pulling his chariot. Numerous bloody streaks lined the muclones' backs. The beasts looked like hefty horses with huge heads and jaws lined with deadly, ivory teeth. Long, shaggy fur that encircled their necks reminded Thoruk of wildlife pictures from old Africa. Lions.
He returned his focus to the other creatures. Another large monster had the distinctive brown fur and body of a buffalo, but as it turned, a walnut-sized lump formed in Thoruk's throat. Its massive, slate-colored head wielded a stout, lengthy spike atop its broad, squarish snout. Animal pictures from the library streamed across his mind. He remembered seeing such a thing but couldn't identify it.
A brilliant flash blazed through the sky, blinding him for a moment. Within seconds, a thunderous boom rattled the grounds and platform under him. His knees buckled and shook while those around him crouched instinctively. What in the world? The continual thumping in his chest intensified as he slowly craned his neck above the wall to search for the source of the body-jolting quake.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Threatening Storm Clouds
Thursday ~ October 3, 2075 ~ 9:45 am
While Ukkiville's leader was busy on the far side of the village scouting the enemy's approached, Amelia enjoyed the warmth of a caribou fur coat, given as a gift from Mercivil. She looked to the horizon as she snapped the straps of her maroon and white headgear embellished with her university's insignia.
Awaiting a signal, she and Howard sat in their cockpits with the fighter engines running. Per Thoruk's earlier instructions, she watched for a flaming arrow to be fired high in the sky toward their direction.
It didn't matter that she and her husband had flown on hundreds of trips and fought in a handful of battles, her stomach still churned while she focused on the mission: to strike the enemy's largest masses and weapons.
She turned to her trusted companion who scanned the village through binoculars. Howard finally glanced her way. Amelia forced a nervous smile; he blew her a kiss. While a sliver of the tension eased, she lifted her eyes to heaven. Dear Lord, please help us and Ukkiville thwart this evil we face today. Help us protect our friends' freedom to live and praise You for the years to come.
Amelia looked down near the gauges at her favorite pictures. I love you, Mom — Sis. Wish y'all were here to see what wonderful people we found. Hopefully someday, they'll visit Texas — especially Mercy.
Chewing her fingernails, she surveyed the horizon again. Every passing second felt like an eternity. She glimpsed back at her husband. He pointed toward the sky beyond the village. Menacing, black clouds with increasing bursts of lightening gathered to the west of Ukkiville — their destination. He mouthed. "Be careful."
Amelia nodded and grinned.
At the Same Time
As Thoruk looked over the wall to survey the battleground, echoing booms rattled the earth throughout the area. Ominous, black clouds mushroomed higher as they cascaded down the Eric the Red Mountains, firing bolts of lightning during the storm's advance towards Ukkiville. Where did this come from? The sky was peaceful 15 minutes ago. This must be the atmospheric weapon Wolfuk warned us about.
Short of breath, a large knot gnawed at his stomach — an intense feeling he never experienced before. Odinuk's lessons came to mind as he briefly closed his eyes. I'm responsible for the lives of more than 80 families under attack! Guide me, Father — I wish you were here. With each passing second, the burn in his chest intensified as if his pounding heart was attempting to flee the pressure of imminent conflict.
Thoruk inhaled deeply, then glanced around. Grave concern shrouded the villagers as the blood drained from their faces. They slunk lower and lower following each blast of thunder.
Realizing their fears must be worse than his, he summoned strength from the depths of his gut. It's time to take the fight to Zolokt!
He straightened his spine and pivoted to survey the enemy again. The Skalag and Scargile offensive lines began to extend around the north and south walls. They outnumber us significantly — I can't wait any longer. He snatched the yellow flag and waved it. Three seconds later, a flaming arrow streamed high in the air over the eastern perimeter.
Within Seconds
A streaming flame arched over the wall. There it is! Amelia gazed at her soul mate for a moment, then, as always, flashed her 'A&M Gig-em' sign and smiled. He returned 'Hook 'em Horns.'
Amelia opened the throttle and the fighter jet lunged forward. While the aircraft accelerated down the make-shift airstrip, the engines whined louder as the plane shook and bounced along the uneven, cracked surface. When the jet neared the end of the aged runway, it rose off the ground, soaring toward the clouds.
A Moment Later
Through the spyglass, Thoruk spotted Skalags mounting muclones and riding toward Ukkiville. The first of the monsters neared the initial line of defense. That's the buffalo with a ... a RHINO head!
Assigned archers on the wall fired blazing arrows into the furthest trench of oil and thatch, creating a line of fire on the outer edge. The sudden whoosh of flames panicked nearby beasts which stampeded in the direction of the enemy warriors.
Galloping north along the fire's trail, the buffalo-rhino veered into the Scargile's platoon and impaled a
foot soldier with its deadly tusk, carrying him into the crowd. The helpless victim screamed as his arms and legs flailed wildly. Terrified fighters scattered in all directions.
The creature charged the blue chariot; Gunkoft took aim and speared the beast. It collapsed and slid to a stop at the hooves of his horses. Startled, they reared up. The Scargile leader jerked a hateful glare at Zolokt while barking orders at his scrambling warriors. "Back to your positions — NOW!"
Thoruk dropped to one knee and gazed at the sky. Dear Lord, help us overcome the enemy we face today — and put an end to Zolokt and his followers forever.
Meanwhile
As the aircraft streaked across the Lake of Dreams, Amelia banked left in the direction of Ukkiville. Suddenly, a bolt of light blistered the sky. She jerked her head and shielded her vision with a free arm. After blinking, only brightness was visible — nothing else. She squinted, willing her sight to recover. Blurred figures came into focus once again.
More lightning struck beyond the far side of the village as the horizon grew angrier. She cleared the eastern wall and observed townspeople crouching in fear from the unexpected booms shattering the air. Just before the jet buzzed the western perimeter, she spotted Fluf by Mercivil's side. Take care down there.
Zooming over Ukkiville, she found two large enemy groupings, the biggest to the left. After finishing her first observation pass, she banked hard right and upwards, circling the village to begin her attack. Following her lead, Howard's plane flew past the first wall for his scouting run.
Amelia's aircraft peaked as she completed the loop and started to dive from the south, in line with the attacker's flanks nearest the western perimeter. Her chest swelled as she sucked a deep breath while readying her next moves. Swoop — level off — strike the largest battalion. The shrill of the turbines grew noisier as she approached. Skalags and Scargiles dropped flat to the ground, horrified by the blaring mechanical creature hurling through the air at them.
The New World: A Step Backward Page 16