by Sam Herrera
“Uhh!” she groaned as she was driven to her knees. Suddenly Chloe slid between his legs and leapt up behind him, her sword free. Taken by surprise, he turned too late and got the point under his chin.
“I yield,” he smiled.
“Are you alright?” she asked, her face softening and her sword lowered.
“Yes, well done.” Yeah, well done. We all began applauding as the two of them stood side-by-side and bowed. I watched as Grey, shaking his head in awe, sought her out to congratulate her. She blushed, smiling modestly at his praise.
“What’s with her?” he suddenly asked, shooting sideways glances at our cook who’d just wandered in to have a look at what was going on. Faith, still an oddball by any standard.
“Excuse us, please?” I smiled, coming up. Grey glanced curiously between the two of us, but walked away anyway.
“Hello, Kyle,” Chloe smiled.
“You did well there and if you carry on being so quick on your feet, I might have to find a use for you.”
“I hope so Sergeant. I’m bored cuntless.”
“You have no respect, do you?” I smiled.
“No,” she grinned back. I chortled, shaking my head.
“Alright everyone, back to training,” I hollered.
MARA
I sighed as I leaned my back against the stone wall of the bathing cavern, the water up to my jawline, and smiled, feeling relaxed and clean for the first time in hours. It had been a long, hard day. Kyle and Ethan had worked us like there was no tomorrow, all of us. Caleb, because he didn’t like the idea of anyone else slapping me around, had insisted on us being sparring partners. And that had been only in the former part: the unarmed combat part of our first training session. The rest of the students and I had watched, alarmed, as Chloe had produced a knife and offered it to all of us, asking who cared to try their luck. No one did, despite her assurances to go easy on them, until Kyle himself stepped forward. He tried his luck. He tried for about two hours before collapsing, worn out. Chloe had been like smoke, like spilled oil, like a striking, writhing cobra, like a black-and-white bolt of lightning. The younger guys, Caleb and Andy, encouraged by Kyle’s frustrated-as-hell strikes and wanting to better them, both stepped up afterwards. Caleb took the knife from Kyle and Ethan got Andy a spare one as well. She took them both on, using all four limbs to block, parry and backflip, somehow never causing any injury worse than bruises. Then it was the girls’ turn. I had stepped forward, nervous as hell. There had been no gym mats or anything here; Ethan believed that every bruise and fall was a lesson to be learned. I had wondered how many “lessons” I would learn here. My luck had been no better than those before me. She’d seemed mistress of her every graceful, fluid movement. I had tried. I had slashed, stabbed and thrust. I too had been chasing smoke. Every time I’d thought I had her, she had twisted and twirled away only to come up and put me on my back. Then it had been our turn to take each other on, trying to copy her technique and failing miserably. After wrestling each other into the ground we were taken through crash courses in assembling, loading, reloading and disassembling, as well as shooting guns by Kyle. He’d fried our brains trying to explain it all and had kept us there until we’d all done it to perfection. I was alone in this pool because I had collapsed on the last lesson, with no energy, and had had to be dragged here. I was surprised how done in I was. I had trained with Kyle in the past, in similar ways, but I clearly was out of practice.
*
I winced as I soaped my sore, bruised body. The caves were fast becoming home despite their lack of privacy and very basic toilet facilities. Mine, Cuffy’s and Cujo’s messes were in a bucket by the pool. Ethan had brought one for each of us. At the end of each day we gratefully put all of them into a horrible, stinking row, thanking God Ethan quickly came around, collecting them all and flying off to the river which was where our drinking and bath water came from as well. I found it best to forget that and obey my thirst.
Ethan. How many times over would we be dead if it weren’t for him? And he continued to save us. I had seen him once come back from bringing in fresh buckets. He’d always insisted on being alone to do this and it was then that I discovered why. I’d watched, interested, as he had taken them to the pool, stacked them in rows, made a small cut on his forearm, allowing a drop of blood to fall into each one of them. I and a few others had always thought his story of “just finding fresh, clean water by pure chance” curious. One third of all water on the Earth was now blood. Another third was highly toxic. So where would he “just find it?” Now I knew. I distinctly recalled learning, on nature shows, that crocodile blood killed all known bacteria and infection. Feeling the cool, clean, pure water sliding down my throat that evening, I’d repented of any concerns about him and prayed we would find a better solution very soon. He couldn’t keep that up indefinitely, not without becoming anemic or something. Instinct took over when I saw his demonic shadow on the floor of the entrance. I ducked even lower in the water until only my eyes, nose-bridge and forehead were visible and half-hidden in the shadows anyway. Then I scolded myself. You were just thinking how grateful you were; make up your mind. Even after all this time, even after seeing that, Ethan still made me nervous. Shaking my head, I rose to get up and reached for my clothes. I frowned as I saw he wasn’t alone; Father was walking side-by-side with him and he didn’t seem at all alarmed or scared. I recalled some things I had heard Kyle say in Utah: something about him being Father’s childhood friend. I cocked my ears to listen as they began speaking in low voices.
“Thirty years. Where the fuck have you been all this time?” Father asked, sounding bitter.
“Many places,” Ethan shrugged. “I spent some time in Borneo before sightings of me began to attract unwanted attention from outsiders.”
“Ya still talk fancy, doncha?” he smirked.
“It was the way my father and big brother raised me.”
“Did either of them teach ya humility as well?”
“They made an attempt but, if you recall, it didn’t take.”
“No shit.” They both began to chuckle. “Why did you leave?” Father asked suddenly, his tone more serious.
“You know why: you talked.”
“Gimme a break. I was eight years old. How could I have known about the military, and autopsies, and shit?”
“By paying attention to the lessons from history that our father taught us just as carefully as I did. Was it you that sent the police to our door?”
“Aw, fuck you,” he protested. “Fuck you for thinking that of me. We were family. It was probably someone who saw you walking around the ranch. You went out there often enough.”
“Only when I couldn’t stand the claustrophobia anymore. You try sitting in a basement for five to ten years.”
“You had things to do,” he argued.
“Ah, yes, our little games. You still remember them?”
“I remember kicking your ass at table tennis every time. Seriously, you were shit.”
“It was very dark down there.”
“Yeeeeaaah. You and your shitty excuses.” I heard them give off some chuckles. This was so weird. They were like drinking buddies discussing the ups and downs of work or something. I watched the two of them walk off, still chatting about the old times. I waited until I was sure they were gone before getting out. I dried myself off with a towel I’d brought along. It was holey and thin but it was all I had, then, feeling my way, I unrolled the clothes I had brought with me and dressed by torchlight. There was a pair of black overalls just like the ones in the Winter. I smiled as I recalled trying to put one of those on as a kid and having to roll the sleeves too many times to be comfortable. I tried them on now and they fit okay, just about. I wished I had a mirror. But anyway. I tied my hair back in a ponytail and followed Ethan and Father out, leaving my bucket where it was. I have to find out about this.
*
“So,” I asked, once I had caught up with the others at lunch and, to Kyle’s astonishment and dismay, sat in between the creature from the jungle and Cujo, “you and Father were friends?”
“We grew up together,” he smiled as he sat up on the floor in the main dining cave, the dog moving in front of me to nuzzle his hand. Unlike Cuffy, he and Ethan seemed to get on alright; they were together a lot anyway. There were no chairs anywhere here, just the floor and ledges of rock, carved into the walls, that sometimes were too high to reach. I gave Kyle, sitting among the crowd, a reassuring nod as he shook his head worriedly.
“Our father found my egg at a construction site; a building that was about to be demolished. He took it home and incubated it, using a gaslamp and pillows. A year later, I hatched. He and Martha raised me as their adopted son, taught me English, taught me many things.” He paused here to lick his eyeballs right in front of me. Ewww. I looked away as Cujo licked his nose almost in sync.
“They, Ron, and the baby, became my family. I was, and still am, very grateful to them.” He showed me a small scar on his knee. “My first time flying. I fell on my rear, scraped my legs and made a fool of myself. She gave me a Band-Aid though, when she was done laughing.” We both smiled. Martha. I’d never known my grandmother, who had died giving birth to Sarah. Shame. She could have told me. “Ron,” he continued, smiling, “even took me out at night and taught me football.”
“Ah c’mon,” I scoffed, trying to picture Father doing that and failing miserably.
“He tried anyway, but there were several problems.”
“Like?” He raised his left leg and wriggled his three toes. I nodded. I’d seen his razor-sharp claws make mincemeat of a football in the Borneo village.
“So, what happened, you ran away?”
“No, Father showed me a safe haven far into the woods after Ron…” he paused and looked down sadly, “finally caved under peer pressure and spoke of me. He even showed his classmates a video on his camera as evidence. The police saw it and the next thing we knew the house was being watched. Father could not bear to have me surrendered to them so he sent me away. He saved my life, but at the time I hated him for it.” He sighed deeply, his eyes grim. The pain was clearly still with him. I wondered if that was what had driven my father from me: the fear of betrayal.
“I see you two have met,” he remarked coming up and seating himself down. Andy, as usual, at his side. But he kept warily eyeing Ethan and sat on the patch of floor furthest from him. Father smiled fondly, seeing Ethan was holding something in one hand. He seemed to know what it was, but I was clueless. It looked like some sort of small animal skull, but very oddly-shaped. When he put it to his mouth, a little to the side of the beak, I understood: it was a musical instrument. The notes it produced were long, and drawn-out, and eerie. I was reminded of a cello, but with a higher pitch. Then things got even more bizarre: Father took a mouth organ from out of his pocket and began to play along, keeping in perfect rhythm. I was very surprised. Father can play music? All the others crowded around to watch, intrigued. It was undeniably weird but kind of sweet as well, like Elliot and ET. The smiles they exchanged around their organs spoke of many fond memories. I wondered how often they had played together as kids in Granddad’s basement. Andy kept shaking his head, looking at the two of them, his eyes wide.
“I still can’t believe that thing is Dad’s old friend,” he remarked in a whisper out of the corner of his mouth.
“How come he never told me?” I wondered.
“He never told me either. I only found out a few days ago.”
“Weird, huh?”
“Very.”
KYLE
I had been enjoying the show. It was like a scene from Predator, only benign. I gave a small, sad smile at David’s back as he sat in front of me. I’d heard Chloe had had to drag him off the body of his wife. Poor bastard. It was different for me: my wife and son were, according to Richard, in heaven and we would soon be reunited. But the thought of looking into Sarah’s glazed, still eyes with a bullet hole between them…I shuddered.
“Hi, Kyle.” I started as I looked up to see Abby Grey, David’s niece, come up to me and sit.
“Hi,” I smiled, thankful to her for distracting me.
“I fancy a walk.” I looked over at the musical act. It looked as though they were wrapping up and anyway my ass was killing me from sitting on this rock.
“Yeah, alright.I never got a chance to say sorry for your loss,” I said as we walked side-by-side, away from the applauding.
“Thanks,” she nodded, lowering her eyes. Trevor Morris, the boyfriend, had been run over just after his girlfriend’s arrest. What a coincidence.
“Abby.”
“Yeah?”
“How’s your shooting?” She, I recalled, had been reluctant to touch the guns in training.
She shrugged. “Chloe taught me a few things and I tried but I don’t… like guns. Do you have any good shots around here?”
“We have plenty of weapons but no real experience with them,” I nodded, smiling. That will soon change.
MARA
When we were done training, Kyle making us feel like shit run over twice in wrestling, and were staggering back, Caleb guided me to our little cot: a sleeping bag rolled up. He opened it by the zip and we curled up together, side-by-side. We waited until the others were, for certain, asleep, both of us tense and eager. It had been a long time.
“You look worn out,” he remarked. I considered as I inhaled the delicious, sweaty scent of him. I’d had no idea a sweaty man could smell so good.
“No, I’m fine. I have…some energy left.”
“Is that so?” he smirked, shoving me playfully on my back. He took his time, rolling my sweaty T-shirt up my stomach, over my breasts, then my head. He then pulled my pants down my legs, charting his progress with kiss, after kiss, after kiss, licking away my sweat and seeming to enjoy it. Oh. Dear. God! I was gasping for breath, even more than I had in training, by the time my underwear had been rolled away. I didn’t care that there were people all around us. I didn’t care that some were light sleepers. All I did care about were his hands and lips on me. I took them by the wrists and brought them to my breasts, his touch making my entire body tingle and overheat. I helped him out of his clothes under the sleeping bag, his physical condition making it obvious how much he wanted me just as mine was making it obvious how much I wanted him. He crawled on top of me and we joined together. For a short, precious while, all this shit was forgotten.
KYLE
“You shouldn’t be watching or listening to that,” I whispered to Chloe as I lay beside her, meaning the groaning and moaning coming from Caleb and Mara’s sleeping bag. I’d quickly shut my ears to it.
“Is it a crime around here to long for what I cannot have?” she hissed back.
“Kristen?” She nodded, looking close to tears. The two of them had become lovers fairly quickly. I wasn’t really surprised; they’d got on like a house on fire ever since their first meeting and I had heard from Abby that their lifestyle was the same. “Is something wrong with her?”
“She’s gone.”
“Gone where?”
“She took the Winter. She’s gone to look for my brother.”
“Are you shitting me?” I asked, pulling back to stare at her, praying she was.
“She left a note saying she wanted to repay me for saving her family by saving mine.”
“She has no idea where to look, does she?”
“She knows his home address and that he and his family were taken captive. The thought of her trying to take on all those police stations alone…” She dropped her face in her hands. I was upset as well, but for a very different reason: if Kristen was caught by those monsters, she would talk. She’d spill her guts and wish there was more she could tell them by the time they were done with
her. When I was sure Chloe, the couple, everyone was asleep, I raced off in search of Ethan.
*
He sighed and shook his snakelike head. “A great shame and it certainly limits us.” He looked towards the hole. I started as fire and thunder flashed across the sky. I watched as a bolt of lightning, from somewhere far away, flashed down behind the range of mountains.
“What is this?”
“The two witnesses are continuing their testimony. I suspect the missile launched at them from here has just been destroyed.”
“The two… what?”
“The two prophets are the lamp stands that stand before the Lord of all the Earth. Any who try to harm them will be consumed by fire from heaven and from the mouths of the prophets. And they will have the power to shut the sky so no rain will fall for as long as they prophesy,” he quoted. It was true. We’d had no rain for a long while now.
“Witnesses? Well, who are they? Where are they?”
“The Holy Land, I imagine.”
“What are you talking about? Look,” I sighed, swallowing the last of my pride and suspicion, “Ethan we’re gonna need you. To raid for us,” I explained.
“It will be a trial, carrying all that the people here need regarding food and water.”
“Water’s no problem. Food we’ll have to search for.”
“I will have to search for,” he corrected, sighing as he patted Cujo’s shaggy head. I smiled at the dog.