by Brad Carr
When the arrow struck Grail it pierced through the opening of his armor. Instantly, he was engulfed in flames from the flammable liquid. Heart wrenching shrieks echoed out from the fiery inferno.
Angus stopped. Turning to stand his ground, a quiet rage consumed him. Squeezing the trigger, the rotating barrel let out a fury of blue laser fire. Ricocheting beams, the vulture dragon’s wing protected the mysterious cloaked man. Rounds of ammo damaged nothing. Swaying side to side, the lasers couldn’t penetrate a weakness. Firing towards the vulture dragon’s head, the attempts seemed futile.
Click! With the gatling gun ammo depleted, fleeing was Angus’ only choice. Getting away seemed rather difficult. The large weapon was weighing him down, impeding his rush. In mid stride, he removed the ammo pack, leaving the gatling gun behind. Swiftly, he reached the tree line, increasing his speed with each adrenaline surge. Dodging trees, wood splintered around him. The Meeshu Cult’s force approached closer, shooting hails of laser fire zipping through the forest.
Dropping down the elevation, into the clearing, and onto the riverbank; Angus could view Doyle, Tom, and Beatrice to the right. Roughly a dozen meters away, he stumbled closer to them. Burn marks from lasers scorched his heavy armor. His right leg began to drag. Angus’ strong body plopped loosely onto the wet soil.
“Angus!” Doyle called out. Jogging away from the carriage, reaching to aid his friend. Doyle knelt down to him. “Tom! Bring it over here!”
Backing up the carriage closer, Beatrice snorted and grunted in nervous excitement. The war pig sensed danger. Picking Angus’ body up from under his arms, Doyle struggled to pull him into the back of the carriage. Tom grabbed his feet in an effort to lighten the load.
“Tom, get us back to Emerald Fort now!” Doyle commanded.
The carriage rocked like an earthquake speeding away. Tom pushed Beatrice to her maximum effort. In and out of conscience states, short periods of time disappeared between blinks. His body felt lighter, Doyle removed Angus’ armor. Rain drops hit his bare chest after his overalls were cut open. Doyle used a tourniquet from a first aid kit in the carriage. The knot constricted against his right thigh.
“This is gonna hurt like hell Angus!” Doyle warned. “I’ve got to stop the bleeding.”
His overalls felt warm, blood oozed around his back, reaching his fingertips, spreading on the carriage floor. Removing a short cylindrical tool from the kit, Doyle pressed a button upward with his thumb. A bright orange circle burned at the tip. Searing against a wound on his lower left side, Angus let out a deep agonizing breath, but remained resilient in silence. Wincing and gritting his teeth, his fingers clenched into a fist, embracing the pain. Eventually, agony overtook him. He faded into his mind.
***
Waking to the scene of graying skies dropping heavy rain, Angus lifted his head. Doyle crouched to a knee with an assault rifle pointed to the rear of the carriage. The carriage hopped and chugged along the sides of the river.
Angus heard Doyle calmly state, “Well, shit.”
“What is it?” asked Tom, still seated forward driving the carriage, only hearing Doyle in a diminishing volume.
“The vulture dragon is heading this way! Check the sky!” Doyle fired up a blast. “It’s hovering low!”
“Keep firing! We’re getting close to Fort Emerald!” Tom yelled.
Angus, too weak to rise, rolled to his right side, and tried again. But his injured body denied him. Powerless, Doyle and Tom held Angus’ survival in their actions.
“Look out!” screamed Doyle.
The carriage broke apart as it flipped side over side, rotating in a sea of projectiles, swinging in the air and ground. Doyle, Tom, and Angus were flung from the carriage. Beatrice’s reins and harness violently shot off in differing directions. The war pig rolled unnaturally over the surface of the ground.
Sky, ground, sky, ground, and sky rotated in Angus’ vision. Angus bounced into rain puddles and patches of tall grass. The act of inhaling, proved difficult from the shear force of striking the ground. Thump! Thump! Crack! What was left of the carriage rolled on top of him, but fortunately, the weight did not compress directly onto Angus’ body. Instead, it canvased near him like a barricade.
Broken and splintered wood planks, revealed large gaping crevices. Angus could view the open field of tree stumps. He knew he was close to Fort Emerald, staring at the remaining red maples nearby. The rain pinged against the shattered carriage. Lightning and thunder rumbled. Soothing sounds of rainfall gave a false sense of tranquility. Dying didn’t seem like an enemy anymore; more like a friend to relieve his excruciating pain.
The vulture dragon landed in the middle of the stumped field. Courage to fight welled up inside Angus’ guts when he heard Tom, moaning in pure hurt. The vulture dragon stomped towards Tom.
Through the gaps, the beams of laser rounds, originating from the left of Angus’s view, bombarded the vulture dragon. In vain, the attempted destruction bounced off the vulture dragon’s tough armored skin. Although he couldn’t see him, Doyle was the gunman. He had succeeded in distracting the attention away from Tom. Screeching, the high pitched tone of the vulture dragon pierced Angus’ ears.
The hooded figure now appeared through the gaps of the carriage, barricaded behind the vulture dragon. The dragon charged at Doyle, leaving the rider behind. The claws of the dragon grasped onto Doyle’s shoulders, pulling him upward. Thunk! Doyle dropped from the sky onto his back; only a few meters away from Angus and the carriage.
Bloodied and almost unrecognizable, he made eye contact with Angus. Removing a laser pistol from his holster, Doyle heaved it over towards Angus. It landed against the carriage, bouncing into the mud. Reaching out through the gaps, Angus was able to grab it. Time seemed to slow down. Doyle smiled at Angus, his mouth full of blood, with a few teeth broken and missing. In admiration and respect, both men nodded to each other silently. Doyle was going to die from his wounds anyway. They both knew it.
The vulture dragon’s talons appeared, crushing Doyle’s skull. Nerves violently shook his body into convulsions. Angus’ heart sank into deep sadness.
Adrenaline pushed through Angus’ veins. Getting to his feet, he limped out from under the carriage. Holding onto the broken vehicle, he used it to steady his arm to aim. Squeezing the trigger, he fired off a shot. The mysterious rider staggered backward and drooped. Angus shot a direct hit to the chest, entering through the front, exiting out the back. Firing a second shot, the rider’s head exploded; leaving chunks of his brain matter dropping onto the patches of grass.
The vulture dragon swayed, looking disoriented, and losing its balance. Psychic grip released from the death of the mysterious rider. The creature eventually shook off its state of confusion. Turning its gaze to Angus, inhaling deep, the vulture dragon was preparing to spit.
An idea popped into Angus’ mind. Directing the pistol sights to the beak of the dragon, Angus waited. When the vulture dragon began a deep inhale, Angus fired his pistol. Igniting the flammable venom inside, fire engulfed the creatures mouth and head. Flapping its wings in anguish, the creature stomped around until the fire reached the brain. Angus dived away from the carriage, when the vulture dragon’s carcass crashed onto it. Wood crushed and splintered in many directions. Flames engulfed the broken pieces of the carriage.
In the distance, the rest of the Emerald Team ran toward Angus and Tom. Loss of blood caused Angus to pass out.
Chapter 21
“How is she? May I come in?” Brakion asked.
Mona blocked the doorway to her home. Eyes irritated, swollen from crying, she gestured permission to him by opening the door fully, “Come in. She’s sleeping.”
Brakion reached down to embrace her but she backed away. Knowing Mona was deeply worried and stressed, he didn’t push his affection. He felt rejected, but he didn’t want that expression to paint his face. Mona had a legitimate reason for being upset.
“I’m sorry Mona. I made sure this wouldn’t happe
n again. From now on, more guards are stationed near the tunnel entrances. They will be inspecting all cargo before it is loaded.”
“Brakion, I’m not mad about Leah getting herself in trouble. I mean, I’m not happy about it. I’m ecstatic she is safe, and back with me,” Mona let out a disappointed sigh. “Why didn’t you warn me about Kansas Sparks? You lied to me. I trusted you. I let you into my heart, and you keep this secret from me? He is my father isn’t he?”
“Mona, let me explain. Please. Is there somewhere else we can talk privately?”
“I don’t want to leave my baby. I just got her back. Leah saw horrible things. She’s not ready,” pausing her sentence. Mona folding her arms, looked up with glassy eyes, confessing, “I’m an emotional wreck.”
“Okay, I understand that Mona. I really do. You have every right to be distraught. And let me preface this by saying, I was worried about her too. I’ve grown fond of Leah, as if she were my own. I know it’s not the same because she’s not from my bloodline. But I could be a father to her. You already know this. I would do anything to help that little girl.”
“But how can I trust you when you lied to me about my father? You knew who he was all along. We can’t develop this relationship between us without being honest with one another. I would have understood.”
“No, Mona, you wouldn’t,” he said defiantly. “Kansas Sparks is only a small piece of the puzzle. I have a duty to the Capital Kingdom. There are national secrets I have to conceal, because I was once their king. Being an alpha general comes with the same price. But I am willing to tell you more than what most people know. I was really hoping he wouldn’t return.”
“But he did return Brakion. I have been searching my whole life for him.”
“That may be Mona, but I didn’t want Melina’s lapse in judgement ruin your image of her. She knew how he was, but she foolishly loved him anyway. She was my friend, I was protecting her legacy.”
“Is that why you chose to get involved with me Brakion? Was it some sense of duty or honor to my mother?”
“No, Mona, I wanted more, once I got to know you. My stomach was in knots when I first saw you. I felt something real. My entire life has been sacrifice, after sacrifice, to everyone else, except for me. For once, couldn’t I find love? I’m human. Aren’t I entitled to pursue happiness? Everyone else is allowed to go home to someone they love. To have children. To share a life. My brother Salem got his chance. He retired his duties to have a family, and left me holding all the weight of the Capital Kingdom. Salem died before he could see his son grow up. But at least he got to fulfill that basic human need. When was my time?”
“Brakion…I,”
“Let me finish,” he paused for a second. “I know I’m getting off track. I realize this. But your beauty embraced my soul. Not just physically, but what you are inside. You are strong, compassionate, and innovative. Leah is the daughter anyone could hope for. From the first time we met, you impressed me. Not only did you get your daughter to Outpost Seven, I mean, the Tyra District safely; but you emit a light that the world wants. I want to be a part of it, I want you.”
“Shut up Brakion,” she replied, slapping his face with force. Gazing into each other’s eyes, they kissed angrily with primal passion.
***
Lying naked under the soft cotton sheets, Brakion rested the back of his head on the pillow. Situated on her side, Mona lied beside him. Putting her hand under her head, supporting the neck, she gazed at him, slumbering. His eyes rapidly shifted under his lids, dreaming. Wrapping her left arm around his abdomen, she placed her head on his chest. Closing her eyes, Mona drifted off into a deep sleep, it was the first time in days.
***
Flashbacks crept into his dreams. Visions of past lives flurried with so many emotions. Affectionate swirls of love for the faces passed by, underneath him, snapping by, second by second. Making love in different beds, yet so intimately acquainted. Their profiles changed with every thrust of pleasure. A different woman’s face each time, moaned in a variety of pitches and tones. Soft kisses from multiple lips, felt so real against his.
The woman in red, a young Gabriella Bittersmith, watched as he made love to each woman. Without judgement, without expression, she never changed. Brakion, would look over to her, but wouldn’t stop pleasuring the ever changing women under his body.
However, wrinkles began crease around their eyes, and the sides of their lips. Profiles of young skin, began to age. Silver streaks grew out of their heads, until most were missing their pigment. Jumping out of the beds, colors of the furniture, and the rooms, alternated over and over again. Brakion stood helplessly, viewing each woman crawling off the mattresses. Their bodies pruned, deteriorating with the horrible fate of old age. Skeletons of once vibrant women crumbled to the floor, turning into dust.
Brakion escaped the room in a panic, exiting to the outside. The weather patterns varied second by second; day, night, rain, snow, sun, moon, clouds, fog. Buildings were erected in the distance, then deteriorated to ruins. New structures appeared, continuing the cycle.
Little children entered his sight. Gabriella Bittersmith, stood behind them, expressionless. Boys and girls, calling him “Daddy,” stared at him with unending love. Growing taller, speeding through their ages until most of them became skeletons and dust. The others grew elderly, but eventually, succumbed to the same fate.
Brakion woke in a cold sweat, out of breath. Mona slept beside him, peacefully, without intervention from the sudden anxious jerk of his body. He began to forget his nightmare, mainly the profiles of the lost lovers and children. But one person stuck out in his mind, Gabriella Bittersmith. Her red dress, was forever engrained into his mind.
***
Surface corrosion covered the iron bars. Gloomy in ambience, the murky gray wall mixed with traces of orange marble, surrounding the jail cell on two sides. A dusty metal toilet and sink, was bolted to the corner of the cell. One bulb, protected by clear plexiglass; gave minimal lighting opposite the cell, shone against the hallway.
Kansas Sparks rested on the floor. Leaning back against the cave wall, his arms rested on his knees. Mouth closed, keeping his thoughts to himself, Kansas remained silent for days. Purple bruises swelled against on his face and head. Kansas’ bottom lip was split open from a trigger rat claw swipe. Cleaned and stitched, dressed in a neon green jumpsuit, with the words, “Prisoner - Outpost Seven” stamped across his torso.
A guard arrived to his cell, “Hands through the bars inmate,” he commanded. Reluctantly Kansas moved to his feet, shuffling painfully over to the bars. “Hands behind you.” Turning his back to the guard, he attached a set of electrified handcuffs tightly around his wrists. “Try anything stupid, we shock the shit out of you. Understand?” Kansas quietly nodded. “Sit on the bench, and do not move. You have a visitor.”
Patiently, with his head held high, Kansas sat on the simple wooden bench. Brakion strolled to the cell door. “Open up.”
“Yessir,” the guard confirmed. Pulling a key from his pocket, he inserted it into the slot. Turning inside, the components creaked. The door opened outward, toward the hallway. Brakion entered. The guard locked the bar door behind him.
“Kurtis Saint huh? Nice pseudonym, pulling out an old name from over two centuries ago. But I got to admit Kyle, I didn’t expect you to betray me in this lifetime, I thought we were past all the animosity.”
“I will never be Kyle Sharo again, Brakion. I did like Kansas though. Think I may use it again in my next lifetime.”
“Who’s to say I will allow you to reach your next life Kyle? I have always kept my promise to the messengers. Even against my wishes. We are the only remaining members of The Chosen.”
“Call me Kansas. Don’t you call me Kyle again.”
“What? No polite speech or manners? Very unusual, Kyle,” Brakion mocked.
“Fuck you.”
“So this is it. No prison this time. Public execution, with disembowelment for all to se
e. I prefer a more lenient execution for you Kyle, I mean, Kansas.”
“There we go Brakion! Much better! My gratitude for calling me by my preferred name. Gentlemen we must remain, despite our obvious hatred for one another.”
“That’s the person I remember. So damned polite, yet so much of an asshole. So let’s strike a bargain Kansas. I will grant you a quick and speedy death, for the information on the plan of action you were going to carry out.”
“I want something else besides an easy death. I want to speak to my daughter,” he demanded, grinning painfully through his swollen face.
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Oh but it will. The information I have, is vital.”
“I already know about your plan to attack the Genesis District, as a distraction for the other districts. They have been informed. Thanks to this little recording device from an assistant of yours. Sounds like you were talking in a bar.”
“The Respite,” Kansas confirmed. “Clever girl, Scarla, she set me up.”
“So you see, I already basically know your plans.”
“Oh, my dear Brakion, you don’t know enough. That is just a small piece of the puzzle.”
“Then why don’t you fill me in on the rest? What does pure spiker have to do with this?”
“Not without speaking or seeing my daughter,” Kansas refused.
“You tried to kill your own granddaughter. You murdered a little boy, along with the countless others you left in your wake of destruction over this lifetime.”
“Amazing how quickly you forget yourself Brakion. I remember the old you. Torture was your favorite method. We should ask the families of the soldiers you slaughtered in the Island Wars. You became a legend to the Capital Kingdom, but to the Scarlet Republic, you will be forever remembered as a butcher of men.”