Book of Bravery

by James Burke

  Marx looked to his men.

  ‘Do you have any grenades?’

  Vacher and Irfan shook their heads for no. Marx looked behind at the three PLA soldiers and asked them the same question in Mandarin. He got a similar response.

  Realizing they’d soon be ordered to enter the cave Vacher and Irfan fitted small flashlights to the ends of their assault rifles.

  ‘Okay then you two, get in there,’ Marx said with a nod.

  Irfan turned on his flashlight and entered the cave. Vacher followed, then Marx. Quickly they discovered it was empty with no sign of Quintus.

  His frustration rising, Marx began shrieking a litany of swear words until he was interrupted by Vacher who found a hole in the top left corner of the cave.

  ‘That’s the only place he could’ve gone, but where it leads to is anyone’s guess,’ Vacher said shining his flashlight into the hole.

  The Climb

  The hole in the cave led into a meandering shaft that went up some 500 feet and down a further 1,000 feet. Back when Quintus was a student of the Way he had climbed up and down the shaft multiple times, perhaps to prepare him for this very moment.

  On this occasion, Quintus was venturing upwards and due to his levitation abilities, he was making decent progress. He held the stolen flashlight in his mouth, so he could illuminate the way ahead.

  By the time he heard Marx and his team entering the cave he was only 20 feet away from the exit he was looking for. Then he heard an eruption of distant gunfire. It sounded as if it was perhaps a quarter of a mile away outside. He tried not to think the worst, but he did. Kristen? Tina? The boy?

  The unseen men back in the cave also heard the shooting and it sent them into fits of laughter.

  ‘You hear that Quintus?’ Marx bellowed. ‘That’s the magnificent, glorious sound of those you love being shot to shreds!’

  Pinned Down

  The airborne Z-9 had located Kristen, Tina, and Kai on the trail along the side of the mountain. They were hiding behind some boulders, huddling together as the helicopter approached. As the Z-9 got closer their cover lessened and once it was at a certain height they were exposed, becoming easy targets. At this point, the chopper hovered only 80 feet away and the PLA soldiers inside it began to fire their weapons from open doors. It should have been a turkey shoot, but it wasn’t.

  Kristen, Tina and Kai may have kept low but that didn’t save them. The barrage of bullets was intense. They should have been torn apart but not one round got close. Kai looked up and saw the reason why they were still alive. Invisible to everyone else but him, the White Dragon was laying above the boulders protecting them with his bullet-proof body. As rounds bounced off him, the White Dragon looked to the boy and smiled. As for the Red Dragon, it was nowhere to be seen and Kai knew in his gut that they’d be safe from evil from here on in.

  A Quivering Heap

  The sound of gunfire propelled Quintus to ascend the shaft even faster. He disregarded the pain as bare knuckles hit stone and skin was lost. Upon reaching the fissure he was looking for he squeezed through it and found himself on a tiny ledge overlooking the two helicopters parked on the terrace. After spitting out the flashlight, he saw three soldiers below him and the pilot getting out of the chopper. He also saw War still on his rock drawing away as if nothing was amiss, but he couldn’t see Marx or his thugs, so he assumed they remained in the cave.

  Once he had the basics figured out, he didn’t wait further. Prompt action, he decided, was the only hope of saving Kristen, Tina and Kai, and so he stepped off the ledge. He dropped 60 feet to the terrace at speed but at the final moment his fall slowed, and he landed softly between Kai’s fighting stick and the somewhat surprised pilot.

  Quintus quickly picked up the fighting stick and used it. After some well targeted prods the pilot dropped into a quivering heap.

  In response, the three soldiers lifted their weapons, but Quintus moved behind a helicopter and out of sight. Two of the soldiers began yelling at each other to go around the chopper while the third was using his two-way radio to report their situation.

  From his rock, War looked up from his drawing to watch Quintus make his way around the Z-9 to flank one of the soldiers who he, in short time, jabbed into a temporary standstill. The other two soldiers, including the one with the radio, were next. Neither of them had a chance. They were promptly paralyzed as well.

  As Quintus dealt with the last of them, he noted the distant sound of gunfire had ceased. There was, however, little time for him to reflect on this as Irfan and Vacher burst from the cave with weapons aimed. Both were eager to shoot Quintus down but that required a greenlight from Marx walking behind them.

  ‘Sir, can we take him out?’ Vacher asked, nearly begging.

  Before Marx answered War dropped his sketch pad to the ground and stood from his rock. He took five steps to his left, putting himself in-between both parties. He gestured to Marx and his minions to stop.

  ‘There is no need for you to shoot anyone, I will go with you on the condition that you do not hurt the Roman,’ War said.

  Marx desperately wanted Quintus dead, but he restrained himself for the sake of War’s offer. Getting War to North Korea was still his priority. Everything else was secondary. Even ancient revenge wasn’t a consideration at this stage.

  ‘Don’t fire,’ he begrudgingly told his men.

  ‘Understood but feel free to change your mind at any time sir,’ said Vacher who kept his rifle aimed.

  As he stared down both barrels, Quintus felt calm, clear and somewhat curious. Events had taken an extra unexpected twist with War stepping in and taking charge.

  ‘My terms Marx are simple but nonnegotiable. I will go with you now, but he is to remain here unharmed,’ War said pointing at Quintus. ‘You must similarly call off the other helicopter from hunting down his friends.’

  Marx snorted in disgust, his madness bubbling to the surface.

  ‘Your last request is pointless. They’re already dead. Couldn’t you hear the shooting?’ Marx said then looked hard at Quintus. ‘You were too late in 1966 and you’re again too late today.’

  Quintus didn’t offer a reaction. There’s no point arguing with a madman and besides he had not given up hope.

  Marx returned to War.

  ‘Why you were sent to help me I have no idea, but the demon kings certainly won’t show you any leniency,’ Marx said.

  ‘Your masters are nothing. Even cockroaches have more potential,’ War replied. ‘Order your men to lower their weapons. This is your last chance.’

  Marx laughed bitterly.

  ‘Really?! When the demon kings learn of your treachery you’ll be as damned as this fool,’ he said pointing at Quintus.

  Nearby, Vacher and Irfan shared looks of disquiet over their boss’ seemingly unhinged ramblings which continued until the sound of the other Z-9 grew louder; its engine’s clamor reverberating through the valley.

  ‘Hear that Quintus? Here come the very same people who can tell you how many pieces your loved ones are now in,’ Marx gloated.

  They all turned to see the Z-9 flying alongside the mountain coming their way. Once the chopper reached the sanctuary it stopped and hovered some 200 feet away. Its soldiers could be seen at open cabin doors. Irfan waved at them until he realized they were pointing rifles their way.

  BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

  Given that Irfan and Vacher were armed they were designated first targets. A bullet hit Irfan in the head. He was dead before hitting the ground. Vacher was shot twice in the torso. He fell wincing in pain.

  Luckily for Quintus he wasn’t in any line of fire, but War was in the open, yet he appeared immune to both the bullets and the chaos. He just stood there calmly looking at the chopper, staring at the shooters. Daring them to try and destroy him.

  As bullets whizzed around, Marx dived for cover behind a large slab of rock. It was there behind stone that he finally grasped how his plans had completely come to naught. Everything was los
t.

  Marx correctly guessed someone up the PLA chain of command wanted to clean up what transpired back at both the hospital and the airfield and getting rid of any foreigners involved was part of that. There was no coming back from this now. Only a deluded optimist would think he could still get War to North Korea and kickstart a nuclear Armageddon. He had failed the demon kings, and this filled him with a rising sense of terror. Instead of his being seated on a throne alongside them, his future was one of suffering beyond description. He would be plunged to Hell’s lowest level — the ninth ring of the thirteenth circle — a punishment reserved for the worst of the worst. As he hid behind the rock, this realization soaked into every bone, every sinew, and each cell. It wasn’t long before he was moaning like a wounded, cornered animal.

  Meanwhile, Vacher was making the most of his final moments on earth. Despite his wounds he managed to get to his feet. The Frenchman certainly had serious character flaws but giving up wasn’t one of them. In the last 15 seconds of his life, he picked up his FN SCAR and blindly fired it at the helicopter. He managed to empty his 20-round magazine and at least one bullet smashed the tail rotor.

  If a helicopter has an Achilles’ heel the tail rotor is it and the Z-9 went into a spin. From where he stood, Quintus could see the soldiers holding on as they swung back and forth inside the helicopter. With a busted tail rotor, there was very little the pilot could do to stop the aircraft’s downward spiral. It dropped out of Quintus’ sight and nor did he care to watch it smashing on the ground in the valley below.

  While this occurred, War retrieved his sketch pad from the ground and reseated himself on the rock where he resumed drawing.

  Both he and Quintus did their utmost to take no notice of Marx’s uncontrollable sobbing behind them.

  Quintus went to check the bodies of Vacher and Irfan. It was quickly evident that both henchmen were dead. Near the cliff’s edge, he ignored any urge to look down at the wreckage of the helicopter. Instead he looked in the direction where Kristen, Tina, and Kai had earlier fled to.

  Running Back

  After they stopped being shot at, Kristen was the first out from behind the boulders. Instead of fleeing further down the mountain, she headed in the same way that the PLA helicopter had flown off towards. She wasn’t sure where her unthinking boldness came from, but it pushed her forward. It wasn’t long before Kai and Tina were both following her.

  Kristen looked back and offered Kai and Tina a brave smile.

  ‘You both okay?’ she asked.

  Tina nodded, and Kai guessed what was asked and offered her a big thumbs up. Ahead of them, the boy was able to see the White Dragon flying in the same direction, keeping them safe from unseen threats.

  Then gunfire was heard.

  ‘Oh no,’ Kristen said.

  The sound of violence did not slow them down and they kept running in the same direction. The shooting was followed by the sound of a helicopter crash heard just before they reached a mountain bend that provided a view of where they wanted to be. After stopping at the bend, they caught their breath and saw the crashed helicopter smoldering at the base of the mountain.

  It was Tina who first saw Quintus standing at the sanctuary ledge, glowing like a mini sun. Through the mass of light, she was also able to see War sitting on the rock.

  ‘They’re still alive!’ she exclaimed.

  Then she saw something dark emerge from behind them, a running figure surrounded by dense swirling murky mist.

  Moans of a Madman

  Screeching and hollering like a madman, Marx rushed from the rock slab he was hiding behind and ran to one of the paralyzed Chinese soldiers. Quintus and War both turned to see him grab the soldier’s dropped assault rifle off the ground.

  Marx quickly switched off the weapon’s safety and swung it around at his intended targets only to find Quintus with the fighting stick upfront in his face. A split-second later Quintus knocked the gun out from his hands.

  ‘No!’ Marx screamed.

  Next Quintus whacked him twice in the guts and once on the head; blows that flattened Marx but didn’t paralyze him. On the ground, Marx was winded, withering and gasping like a fish out of water.

  With one hand Quintus picked up the gun and threw it over the cliff ledge. He returned his attention to Marx who managed to sit himself up while still struggling to catch his breath.

  Half-a-minute later the fund manager had enough air in his lungs to begin screaming at War seated 30 feet away on the rock, drawing.

  ‘Why?’ Marx yelled. ‘War just tell me why!’

  War ignored the demands and kept sketching, further incensing Marx. ‘You smug son of a bitch, you signed up for this!’ Marx screamed.

  He shifted his attention to Quintus who just stared at him.

  ‘And you, what are you looking at? You ruined everything!’ Marx yelled.

  Quintus felt near nothing as he looked at Marx. No rage. No hatred. Nothing like he experienced in Reno, 1871. If he felt anything it was fleeting pity that promptly disappeared when Marx got to his feet and ran his way. This time the madman moved quicker than anticipated. Quintus was caught somewhat off guard by Marx’s speed and the momentum of the tackle that followed took them closer to the edge of the cliff.

  ‘Let’s both jump Quintus!’ Marx screamed as they got a few feet away from the sheer drop. ‘Let’s go to Hell together. One in, all in!’

  If they did topple over the ledge Quintus could levitate himself out of trouble but he didn’t want to be responsible for Marx’s death. Half-a-foot from the ledge, he spun, and they uncoupled. As they separated he managed to push Marx away from the edge.

  ‘Too scared to kill me now?’ Marx said not expecting an answer while continuing his rant. ‘Because of you Quintus and this idiot on the rock!’ Marx said pointing at War. ‘I’m returning empty handed. Do you know what that means?’

  Quintus, of course, didn’t care for Marx’s problems and didn’t reply but War stood from his rock which took all of the madman’s attention.

  ‘War you Judas! I’m going to kill you!’ he screeched.

  Marx hurled himself at War, but his charge was intercepted by Quintus who pushed him off balance. He skidded to the ground face first. Further enraged, he got to his feet screaming some more until Quintus jabbed him with Kai’s stick sharply under an armpit followed by another well-aimed poke just above his left hip.

  Marx was now left frozen on the spot. All he could do was breathe, drool and sweat. Locked in, he impotently cursed and internally raged to nobody but himself.

  ‘That’s enough commotion. It’s time for some quiet,’ Quintus said as he walked away from Marx’s figure. He then saw Kristen, Tina and Kai at the distant bend.

  War sat back on the rock and observed how relieved Quintus appeared while waving to the trio who soon enough resumed running towards the sanctuary. War thought it may take them five or so minutes to reach where they were.

  For a moment, he thought about telling Quintus some heavenly secrets; that Tina was once his daughter Abby and that Kristen was not only his past wife Kaitlyn but also, way further back, the young Irish woman called Alba. However, he decided against it. Humans, even someone like the man in front of him, are best left ignorant about such matters.

  But somethings, War knew, needed to be said.

  ‘I’m delighted how this has finished for you,’ he told Quintus. ‘I have to admit I’m surprised you’re still alive. Your master indeed trained you well.’

  War then held up the sketchbook.

  ‘Please give these drawings to the boy, he will cherish this day and they will remind him of what happened here,’ War said as he placed the sketchbook on a nearby rock. ‘One day, when China is free, you two will reunite. You will need to teach him what he once taught you.’

  Quintus nodded as if what War said made sense which in an otherworldly kind of way it did.

  War sighed deeply and looked at his hands as if they were foreign to him.

 
‘It’s the first time I’ve been among humans. It’s been interesting; having a human form.’

  He then looked up at Quintus.

  ‘It’s over now, it’s been reset, but humankind still needs to get its act together. You’re free of your responsibility Quintus but see if you can help them change for the better. Help them to return to a path of tradition.’

  War paused for effect and closed his eyes.

  ‘Time is short.’

  Quintus wanted to ask War a ton of questions, but he understood there wasn’t time to do so. He only nodded as the being on the rock sat up straight and breathed in deep.

  War put his hands on his knees and smiled. A gust of wind engulfed the sanctuary area, and he then just vanished into thin air.

  Left alone, it finally hit Quintus that the moment he’d been trained for had come and gone. Humanity was, as far as he was concerned, apparently no longer in peril. Any words would understate how he felt at that moment. The point of all of his wandering and waiting over the centuries had occurred, lifting a huge weight from his shoulders. The future no longer owned him, nor mankind.

  Ignoring Marx’s nearby paralyzed figure, he went and sat on the well-worn rock that War had been on and waited for the others to arrive.

  This sense of relief stayed with him as he flew the stolen helicopter with Tina and Kristen from China southwards to Thailand.

  That’s a Wrap

  Despite being asked nearly three hours’ worth of Apocalypse type questions Chuck Goyette wasn’t tired. In fact, he thrived on all of the media attention thrown at him. Under the glare of the National Press Club’s stage lights he hadn’t even raised a sweat.

  It was around 8 pm that Valeri Chambers, the club’s president, gestured to Goyette to wind up his talk. It irked him a bit, he could have gabbed on from behind the podium for an additional hour.

  She came up beside him from left stage.

  ‘Thank you, Mr. Goyette, you have given us much to reflect on,’ Chambers said.