by Leo Romero
Somewhere in the darkness, a tickle on his cheek. It spread up to his forehead, an itchy-tickle. And then again. Persistent. The sensation stirred him from the darkness. Rufus’ eyes fluttered open.
Where am I?
A bleary blue sky. Heat against the side of his face. Sand on his tongue, gritty and dry. Blazing heat smothering him from above. A shimmering world. His head throbbed hard and steady. That tickle again on his cheek. He shook it off, sand falling from his face. He tried to lift himself from the sand, but there was no juice in the tank. His limbs weighed a ton. He fell flat onto the baked ground with only one thought in his mind.
I want it all to end.
He just wanted to rest, for it to be over. The pain, the heat, the dehydration. Just for it to end, there and then. He went back into blissful darkness and everything felt better.
But the sun cooked the darkness, blazing it in a conflagration of color; blue, yellow, violet, orange. The blotches danced and swirled and blotted the darkness. From the colors, a face emerged. Two blue eyes opened up, and then a mouth. “Rufus,” came a voice.
Rufus stared at the face forming in his mind. Papa?
“Rufus. You must not die! You have to save Vincent from the darkness in the snow.”
What does it mean, Papa?
“You’ll know when the time comes. But if you die here in the sand, then it will all be lost.”
I can’t go on any further.
“You can. You must. They all need you. Vincent will need you.”
I... can’t.
“You can! Rise, son. You’ve risen once before, you can do it again. Find your strength. Find your strength. Find your...”
The words began to fade alongside the colors. Something replaced them. Another annoying tickle to his cheek. He wiggled his nose and popped his eyes open once more. Through his blurry vision, there was a mass of light-green just ahead of him. A sliver of pink, then that tickle again. His nose twitched. His pupils focused in and the green began to take shape. The forked tongue darted out of thin, reptilian lips, and flicked off his nose. Cold, yellow eyes glared back at him. A hiss, and fear flooded Rufus’ veins. He snapped into life, back to the desert, to the boiling hot sun. An ominous rattle broke the silence. Rufus froze. The snake just watched him like a crocodile spotting a nearby gazelle. Fear gripped Rufus like a vise. He didn’t want to alarm the snake, or make any sudden movements. He stayed as he was, his stare fixed on the rattlesnake coiled on the sand just ahead of his face.
Don’t move, don’t move.
The snake rattled its tail again, first slow, then picking up pace. The sound was like the drums of war in Rufus’ pulsating mind. It flicked its tongue on the air, its predatory stare fixed on Rufus’ face.
Don’t alarm it. Stay calm. No sudden—
A groan bombarded the air. A McGroan. Mack!
Mack’s still alive!
But, the noise alarmed the snake. It released an aggressive hiss that cut through Rufus’ mind. His heart kicked into high gear. The snake straightened in an agitated fashion, rattling and hissing in a disjointed rhythm. Rufus watched it in trepidation. Mack groaned again and the snake hissed. Its rattle came to a stop. Everything fell silent. Rufus held his breath in anticipation. The slits in the snake’s eyes dilated.
And then it lunged.
Rufus’ eyes bulged. The pink inside of the snake’s mouth dominated his view. Fangs gleamed under the boiling sun, ready to puncture skin and inject poison. They descended on him like a runaway train, and he was rooted. The cavernous mouth filled his vision, the fangs a cigarette paper away from his nose.
They went to sink into flesh, when they were inexplicably pulled back. The snake’s jaws snapped on the air in frustration.
Rufus juddered in fear and shock, his eyes following the snake as it writhed on the air. It wriggled and squirmed against the sun for a few seconds before it was slammed down into the sand. Rufus bolted upright. The snake was now caught underfoot. Its jaws snapped open and shut in desperation. A blade cut across its neck, severing the head from its body, putting it out of its misery. The surrounding sand turned red as the body continued to squirm beyond death. Rufus laid eyes on the head; it remained still, blood seeping from the stump.
A hand picked up the body and held it on the air where it continued to bleed and wriggle. Rufus’ head twitched the way of the man who’d just saved his life. A man in desert robes, a head scarf. Dark skin. A wizened face. The man stared at the snake’s body with calm in his eyes, not an ounce of fear. After a few more squirms, he slung the snake’s body to the side, the danger averted. Rufus flinched, fear still juddering through his veins.
The man held out his hand. Rufus stared at it with woozy eyes. He took hold of it, and collapsed into the sand once more.
CHAPTER FORTY
Everything was dark.
Something wet and cool touched his cracked lips. He licked the residue, his dry mouth savoring the sensation. More water was dabbed on his lips and he lapped it up like a thirsty cat. His head throbbed slow and hard, pulsing alongside his heart. More water fell on his lips. It was heavenly. He breathed in deep. A soft hand fell on his warm forehead. Inside, he groaned in relief. The hand fell down his cheek, bringing with it comfort. Solace. The world had been a hot hell for what seemed like forever. Suddenly things had cooled. Rufus slid his eyelids open.
What the?
He flinched back in shock. He was staring at an angel. Almond eyes, brimming with benevolence. Perfect lips raised in a perfect smile. He frowned, jutting his head forward in disbelief.
Who are you? he wanted to ask.
She placed a finger over her lips.
Rufus turned his head left and right. The floor was desert sand, the walls fabric rippling in a small breeze.
Am I in a tent?
Makeshift beds were dotted around left and right. He turned his attention back to the angel. He was about to speak in sign to her, when the man who saved him from the snake entered the tent. He stopped and stared at them both. Rufus watched him in trepidation. He may have saved him from a deadly snake bite, but his intentions were unclear. Rufus was a million miles from home, a million miles from Vincent. He wasn’t safe, no matter what. He flicked his eyes from the man to the girl. She smiled. It was a pleasant smile, one Rufus couldn’t help but be comforted by.
The man stepped inside, closing the tent flap behind him. Hanging on his shoulder was a rifle. The man took the gun from his shoulder. Rufus gulped. He was about to jump to his feet and fight, when the man placed the gun to the side. He marched over to where Rufus lay and squatted down beside the girl. He stared at Rufus with stern eyes.
Rufus licked his lips. He couldn’t tell if this man was friend or foe. And the worst part was he had no way of communicating with him. Something inside Rufus told him to try and be as friendly as possible to them both. He pointed at his lips and cut a finger across the air, indicating to them he was a mute. He watched them both, waiting for their response. He wasn’t sure if they understood what he’d tried to convey, wasn’t sure what to do about it. They both remained silent. The girl continued with her smile. The man raised his hands in the air ahead of him. Rufus stared at him in apprehension. He didn’t know what was coming next.
The man began communicating in sign language. Although it was different to the sign Rufus used, he could still get the gist.
Where are you from? The man asked.
Rufus’ jaw dropped. With stunned hand gestures, he answered, America.
We saw the helicopter fall from the sky, the man said. Were you on it?
Yes, Rufus answered.
What is your name?
Rufus.
I’m Tariq. This is my daughter Damya.
Damya smiled. Rufus smiled back.
We are Berber, said Tariq. The desert is our home.
How do you know sign language? Rufus asked him.
Damya is like you.
Rufus glanced at Damya. Her eyes fell downward.
She cannot spe
ak, the man added. She is deaf.
Rufus nodded in understanding. I’m not deaf. I was born this way. I cannot speak. Rufus smiled at them both. Thank you for saving me.
You’re welcome, said Tariq. God was looking after you.
Rufus nodded. Something popped into his mind. I was with someone. My pilot, my friend. He was hurt.
Tariq gave him an assuring nod. We’re looking after your friend.
Is he okay?
He is hurt, but he is alive.
Rufus breathed a sigh of relief. He placed a hand on his heart. Thank you.
Where were you going in the helicopter? Tariq asked.
To save my friends.
Are they in trouble?
Yes. Bad guys shot us out of the sky. Militants. They are taking my friends to be beheaded at the foot of the Pyramid of Osiris. I have to save them.
Tariq shook his head. You are too sick. You have sunstroke.
I’m okay!
No you’re not.
I am. I can recover quickly. I can heal quicker than normal people.
Tariq gave him a skeptical look. How?
Rufus shook his head. I don’t know. I’m blessed with quick healing. My pilot friend isn’t. I’ll be okay to go on alone. I just needed water.
Tariq narrowed his eyes.
I cannot let my friends die, Rufus told him. I have to help them. If I don’t, it will be bad for everyone.
Why?
I cannot explain. But, the bad guys are a cult that masquerade as Islamic. They don’t want peace, but destruction in the world. I have to stop them!
Tariq met Damya’s stare. We have to help them, father, she said.
We have our own problems, Tariq replied. It is not our fight.
He said it will affect everyone, Damya reminded him. This is our home. We cannot let them kill people where we live. They blaspheme against God, their cult must be stopped.
Tariq let out a regretful sigh. Rufus watched him with wide eyes, hoping Damya had got through to him.
Tariq looked from his daughter’s earnest stare to Rufus. Some of us may die, he said, and rubbed his head.
We will all die if we do nothing, Rufus replied. If nothing else, then for God himself, you must stop them.
Tariq glanced at Damya. She gave him a sincere nod, her beautiful eyes wide, brimming with compassion.
Tariq’s head dropped. I’m sorry, I cannot. There are not enough of us.
Damya’s shoulders slumped.
Rufus’ hope crashed alongside them.
I can take you near to the pyramid, Tariq said. But, from there you are alone. May God be with you.
Rufus nodded his pounding head. That’s good enough. Thanks.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Rufus got ready. Tariq had already gathered his things and placed them in the corner of their tent. Rufus grabbed his dart guns and stuffed them in his belt. With a throbbing head, he picked up the sun cannon and strapped it over his back. Tariq came by with a fresh headdress for him, which he happily took. He also handed Rufus a full waterskin. Rufus thanked him and took a big gulp. It wasn’t the cleanest water he’d ever drunk, but at that moment it was one of the most satisfying drinks of his life. He hung the waterskin from his shoulder and he was all set to go.
Are you ready? Tariq asked him.
Rufus nodded.
The horse outside is waiting. Tariq turned and left the tent.
Rufus took a deep breath and followed. He was stopped on the way by Damya, who was standing off to the side, her head bowed. She raised her head and Rufus met her stare. She sent him a hopeful smile. The way her beautiful brown eyes glimmered in the low light gave him strength; it flooded his veins, bolting up into his chest from his stomach. He wanted to come back, just to look into those eyes once more. He thought of the bad guys and what they intended to do to Trixie and Dom and the strength was joined by rage. He knew what he had to do, and he promised he’d do it.
He gave Damya a prolonged stare, their gaze fixed upon one another, before he tore himself away. He marched for the exit. On reaching it, he took a final look back at Damya, realizing it might be the last time.
Her eyes still glittered like jewels, even though her face was riddled with worry.
She raised her hands. Be careful, she said.
Rufus puffed out his chest. I will. He spun and headed back out into that yellow furnace. The sun pummeled him straight away, and even though his head was pounding, he was more ready for it this time. The new headdress he now wore was more suitable for the climate than the makeshift one he had on before. The vast desert stretched out ahead of him. In the distance, the Pyramid of Osiris jutted from the landscape, awaiting them. He stared at it with a grim determination.
This time, I’ll get to you!
Tariq was waiting by his horse. Some of the other Berbers had come out of their tents to see what was happening. Women, children, but more men. The faces of the women were riddled with anxiety, the children gazed on in wonder. Rufus started to understand why Tariq wasn’t so keen on facing the Claw Order with him. Life was already a struggle for them in this hellish climate. If they lost too many men, then what would happen to the women and children they’d leave behind? Rufus knew he’d take on the guilt of helping to destroy this small community, and there was no way he could live with that if he made it out alive. Especially after they’d saved him and Mack.
Tariq ushered him over before climbing up on his horse. Rufus joined him. He stopped and stared at the back of the horse in puzzlement. He’d never ridden on one before. Tariq offered his hand. Rufus took it and hoisted himself up and over, landing on the back portion of the saddle. He grabbed hold of Tariq’s shoulders, just as he got the horse to giddyup. It set off across the sand. Glorious wind rushed past Rufus. He stared over Tariq’s shoulders as he bobbed up and down in time with the horse’s gallop. From the now raised position, that peppering of Claw Order vehicles came into view. They dotted the landscape like wreckage. Beyond them, that imposing pyramid jutted from the ground. Rufus stared at it like a hawk. He was determined to get there in one piece and fix all the mess. To beat the bad guys and the vampires and save everyone.
He checked his watch. 11:44 am. He didn’t have long before the executions would begin. Tariq urged his horse to speed up and she responded, going into a faster gallop. More wind rushed past Rufus. He squinted his eyes, his focus on that pyramid. He knew that was where the vampires would be hiding. They couldn’t come out into the sunlight. The only protection from it would be in there, there was nowhere else, nothing for miles apart from desert. He could see them in his mind, hiding in the darkness, waiting to give the order to kill Trixie and Dom.
I’m on my way, Trixie. Hang in there, Dom. I’m on my way to save you!
Tariq urged his horse on and she went into a full gallop. Rufus tightened his grip on Tariq’s shoulders, his whole body bumping up and down as the horse pumped its legs like pistons. The world slipped by in a yellow and blue blur as the horse ate up the desert like it was nothing. The sand flew up from beneath its hooves as it galloped across the waste. Rufus was in awe of its power, of its endurance in the blistering heat. He was also grateful for it. He realized now there was no way he could’ve ever reached it alone. The desert was too much for him.
In seemingly no time, they were halfway to their destination. The jagged edges of the pyramid were visible; the vehicles the bad guys had arrived in were big blocks. A mix of excitement and fear juddered through Rufus. He knew he was going to make it this time, but he also knew the bad guys and the vampires would be there.
They drew closer and now people came into view. They were bunched at the foot of the pyramid, over to its side. The pyramid grew larger with every passing moment. It dominated everything. Huge, as equally miraculous as it was mysterious.
The horse sped on a bit further before Tariq reined her in and they came to an abrupt halt. The horse skidded to a stop, Rufus falling forward, his forehead bumping into Tariq’s back.
Tariq turned to the side. He grabbed Rufus by the upper arm and nudged him. Rufus got the message. He eased himself down off the horse. He stood on the sand, gazing at the pyramid for a prolonged moment. He looked up at Tariq.
This is as far as I can go, Tariq said. It’s too dangerous to go further. You’ll have to go alone.
Rufus lowered his head. I understand.
I’m sorry.
It’s okay.
Good luck.
Thanks. And thanks for your help.
Tariq gave him a friendly nod before forcing his horse to turn. In the next instant, he was galloping back the way he came. Rufus watched him vanish into the shimmering horizon, a sadness overcoming him. He was alone again. He slowly turned to face his nemesis. The Pyramid of Osiris.
While he stared at it, he took a drink of water. He adjusted the strap of the sun cannon across his shoulder and made sure he still had his dart guns. All good.
He adjusted his headdress and set off the rest of the way. As he approached the scene, he bent down low, using the long line of vehicles as cover. All of the bad guys were congregated at the side of the pyramid, their attention focused in the other direction. Rufus headed toward the edge of the row of vehicles, his head throbbing, the sun still baking. With that mighty pyramid growing more dominant with every step forward he took, he neared the vehicles. From where he was in is crouched down position, the bad guys were in a bunch, some of them pointing here and there, others standing guard, but fortunately, facing the other way. It was like they were getting ready for something, staging something.
Rufus snuck up to an armored vehicle at the end of the line and pressed himself up against it. Relief washed over him. He’d made it this time. High above him, the pyramid loomed. From here, it was an awesome sight, incredible, but scary at the same time. The voices of the bad guys were audible. They were barking orders at one another. Rufus turned to face them. He crawled to the end of the vehicle and peeked around the corner. The bad guys came into view. From a quick head count, there must have been over fifty of them, most of them armed with assault rifles, others with machetes.