by Jeff DeMarco
Slowly, he felt the contours of it, the high back and arm rests looked around the sides for any sort of mechanism or assembly, crevaces or tool marks. It seemed to be formed seamlessly, directly from whatever material that it sat on.
His hands on the armrests, he lowered himself gently onto the seat; the floor was illuminated in brilliant green light.
A being manifest before him and removed the hood of its tan cloak.
His eyes and mouth hung open as he wondered at the being - humanoid but not entirely human. He examined the eyes, large and green, the mouth – small, thin, nearly absent; its features too small for its head. ‘What are you?’
Its long brown hair drifted, as if suspended in water; the being, seven feet tall, drifted towards him and placed its long slender fingers on his chest.
The words, ‘you are of us,’ rang in many voices through Jacob’s mind. He slowly lifted his hand and pressed it to the being’s hand. He felt a sort of resistance as it touched, like moving a hand against a current of air, yet it passed through to his chest. The question, ‘how?’ formed on the tip of his tongue.
‘Planted many seeds across your world,” the many voices said. “They have grown.’
“Who are you?” Jacob asked.
It smiled. ‘You called us prophets once, lived among mankind, now long since expired. Our being… our consiousness is all that remains.”
“I have so many questions…” His mind raced. “Are you-“
The being pressed its long finger to its thin lips. ‘Not gods, but imperfect,’ It touched Jacob’s chest. ‘As you. We are not creators, but travellers. Sent to bring humanity a gift of knowledge. We have watched you, Jacob; seen what you have done.’
His eyes cast down to the luminescent floor.
‘Time is short,’ Its eyes remained neutral, lacking any sort of accusatory glance. ‘Shayaateen has risen and you must bear this burden.’
Jacob cocked his head. “Shayaateen?”
The being touched Jacob’s head. ‘He is of us, but no long a part of our whole. He is within you, within all of humanity. He is your will, absent empathy, morality; To infect those born of chaos, to malign them against humanity.’
“How do you….” An object hovered before him, liquid and metallic and oblong like a skipping stone, undulating like an amoeba, roughly the size of his palm. “What is it?” As he held it, it changed rapidly from ice cold to warm in a moment. “How do I use it?”
The being touched its hand to its chest. “Only as death strikes.” It broke apart, a scattered mist, like a flock of starlings swirling back and forth in the sky.
The Prophets held its hands out; the mist shot into Jacobs hands, a searing pain, like hot coals pressed into his palms. Blood trickled from the wound; he dropped to his knees.
“A war, Jacob,” The Prophets whispered, their apparition fading into nothingness. “A war that will end with you and your kind.”
Light dimmed to black. “Wait a minute!” He yelled, irritated at the imposition. “My one chance to meet my maker… Get back here… Answer me!” The veins in his hands glowed a dim green and he knew they were listening. “Why me? And what are you? Where are you-“
His vision shifted through blackness; stars shooting past him, to a distant, dead planet. Shadows walked along paved streets and tall buildings; apparitions of a long expired, advanced civilization. ‘Our home world,’ a voice whispered through his mind. ‘You were nearest when we awoke. A force, be it a God or not, created all of existence; that which is beyond us. Time is short. Shayaateen has awakened, and we with them. He will be the end of humanity if you do not stop him. Unite our races, before they are infected. Now go.’
He stood, confounded at the answer. “But why do I have to die for this ‘gift’ to activate… or whatever it does.”
‘As death nears, you will understand.’ The light extinguished from him.
He closed his eyes and stood, feeling for an exit, his hands clamped shut and shaking. He tripped, his face flat into the ground, then woke to the sights and sounds of southern France, his forehead pressed to the dirt.
He stood, confused and frustrated at the dream; his body ached as if he had been kneeling there for days. He wiped the dirt from his forehead; tender, purple blotches in the center of both palms. “It couldn’t have been a dream,” he whispered.
‘It wasn’t,’ a voice whispered inside his head.
CHAPTER 18
Automation that had once lain dormant, sprang back to life. Joint network nodes, communication towers and central processors connected, as the world began to talk again. Hope emerged with rumors of survivors, pockets of resistance in Great Britain and Europe, Russia and China, Japan, the Middle East, South America. The virus had decimated the population. In their unquenchable hunger, the hunters had begun to die off, the weakest consumed by the strongest; a glimmer of hope, humanity and nature had fought back.
On the dry plains of Fort Sill, Oklahoma, word had spread like wildfire, as thousands rushed to find a power outlet to charge their cellphones; they were eager to try and connect with loved ones. It was a stampede of sorts, civilians pushing and shoving inside of their unit living areas; Soldiers had tried to hold off the masses. Shots had been fired, first into the air; then those civilians with firearms had shot back at the Soldiers. Several were wounded, shot or stuck in coils of razor wire and bleeding.
Dustin ran for the Battery operations tent and grabbed a radio, flipped it to the Battalion Command channel. “Eagle 3, this is Dagger 6.”
“Go ahead.” Major Gary Eckert’s voice on the other end.
“Got a full-blown riot on our hands, requesting extra generators, any other portable power supply if you have them.”
“C’mon Dagger, you’re telling me you can’t handle a little riot? Police yourself up.”
“We’ll handle it.” Dustin sighed in annoyance. “Get me those generators.”
Dustin grabbed a bullhorn and walked to the jammed entrance. “Attention!” He motioned to Ari, who had upgraded her M24 rifle for a new .50 Caliber bolt action rifle. She aimed in the air, towards the north and fired a single, deafening shot.
“Attention everyone! I understand you’re all eager to talk to your loved ones. I’ve requested generators from Battalion. If we can all just settle down for-“
“Fuck that!” A man in the crowd yelled. “Are we free to leave or aren’t we.”
“You are in-“ Dustin stopped, his bullhorn drown out by 1SG Hawk’s booming voice.
“Listen up, guy!” Hawk walked with purpose towards him, his hand extended as a knife-blade. “You’re more than welcome to leave this post, go get eaten up by the hunters. As it stands, you’re on a military installation and you fall under our protection. That means you will stay in this area of operation, unless otherwise directed. You will follow all lawful orders and you will calm your ass down, like the commander told you… You don’t have to like him; God knows I don’t.” He looked over and winked at Dustin. “But damnit, if you’re planning on staying, you will fall in line, understood?”
The man nodded, his mouth now fully hung open from the ass chewing. The gaggle began to shuffle their way into a wavy line.
Hawk looked over at Ellen. “See to the wounded, Ma’am?”
She nodded, already on the move.
Dustin walked over, a smile as he shook his head.
Hawk laughed. “It helps… they know I’m on their side. You know how it goes.”
“Yep.” Dustin shoved his hands in his pockets, eliciting a dirty look from First Sergeant Hawk. “They’ve established good comms with Fort Bragg. Planning a convoy and key leader engagement, with me on the roster. Want me to take Ari and Erica with. You’ll be ok?”
Hawk scanned both ways, then leaned in and whispered, “We’ll be fine from the hunters, but what if another one of those kids comes back? You ok leaving the base uncovered like that? And what about that one in the hospital?”
“We’ll leave Taylor with you
,” Dustin whispered. “He can block out anything that one in the hospital can do. I’ll have Erica get him up to speed. He can do most of what she can.”
Hawk looked hesitantly at him. “We’re all set then.”
CHAPTER 19
“I’d like to see him.” Erica cracked open the hospital door.
Ari was silent as she watched Erica push open the second door made of the same copper pipes that surrounded the room.
“Five minutes,” Dustin said. “We don’t want to keep them waiting.”
Erica looked back. “I know.”
Her shoes landed softly on the floor, in rhythm with the beeping electrocardiogram.
“What?” Luca’s voice was harsh and raspy. “Come to finish the job?”
“No.” Erica sat down beside his bed. “I wanted to see you. Tell you sorry for what happened.”
“Ha-“ a painful hacking cough took over. “What the hell is there to be sorry for?” His voice strained to produce a whisper. “There’s no sorry in battle. Maybe for not killing me, for leaving me a disfigured FREAK!”
“All the same,” She put her hand on his one remaining arm. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t right for me to hurt you this way… I could have Taylor come look at you. Maybe have him re-grow some of the muscle and skin you lost. In time, maybe he could even re-grow your limbs.”
“Ha.” His laugh was brief to avoid coughing up any more blood. “A just penance for my failure. How is little Taylor?”
“Great.” She smiled at him. “I think he’s found his calling in medicine.”
“Oh good…” His tone was sarcastic. He shifted his one remaining eye, dead set on her as he whispered, “You can tell that fucking traitor that if I ever see him, I’ll rip his throat out with my teeth.”
She let out a long sigh. “Goodbye, Luca.”
Ellen looked down at her watch. “You’re late.”
Dustin tilted his head in surprise. “What’re you even doing here?”
Ari squeezed his arm, the signal - ‘shut up.’
“Someone’s got to look out for Taylor’s interests.” Ellen glared at him with her worst evil eye. “He may be special… Even still, he’s only 14.”
Colonel Jaeger stepped into the door. “Post Commander!”
Dustin, Major Eckert and the other battery commanders and First Sergeants stood at attention for General Petersen’s entrance.
“As you were.” General Petersen sat in his desk chair. “We’ve established good communications with Fort Bragg. As Washington D.C. has gone dark, Lieutenant General Nichols will assume command of all U.S. Forces.”
“Who else is out there, Sir?” Captain Colby asked.
“Besides us and Fort Bragg,” Petersen looked down at his notes. “Camp Pendelton and Naval Base San Diego, 15th fleet –en route from the Persian Gulf, Luke Airforce Base, Arizona, A small Marine detachment up in Fort Lewis… I thought that was odd; A few dozen of trainees and a couple drill sergeants at Fort Benning, Georgia, Special Forces Command, Macdill Airforce Base, Florida, Naval Station Norfolk, Virginia and a Coast Guard station up in the Midwest, the Great Lakes.”
He looked up from the page, into the fear and unknown of his commanders’ faces. “It’s a short list, I know. Ladies and Gents, this was a near extinction level event, whatever you’d like to call it. We are lucky to have our lives and the lives of those that remain. There can be no weakness, no lack of resolve in our response. General Nichols has ordered our presence at Fort Bragg in two days. Colonel Jaeger and Captain Freeman,” He looked over at Erica and Ari, then nodded knowingly. “You’ll accompany me. Major Eckert, I’m putting you in charge in my absence.”
Colonel Jaeger leaned over to Gary and whispered, “Don’t fuck this up.”
“With that,” Petersen lit his cigar. “Is there any concern for any of your kind coming back to the fort?”
“It’s possible.” Erica perked up, as to appear taller. “I’ve reached out as far as possible, I’ve seen no indication that their leader, Jacob, is coming… I think if he was going to come, he would have done it already.”
Petersen eyed Taylor. “And you’ll be able to defend the base if he does come?”
“Defend the base, yes.” Taylor wriggled in his chair. “Defeat Jacob, no. He’s strong, much stronger than me. His kinetic attacks would definitely kill me, but where he’s weak, I’m strong. I can render him powerless within the confines of the base. Not to say he can’t stand outside and throw cars and boulders at us like Luca…”
“Very good.” Petersen looked over at Gary. “We’ll issue and train some of the Soldiers with the Man Portable Air Defense missile launcher.”
Gary nodded, while scribbling down ‘issue MANPAD.’
“We leave at 0900.” Petersen stood, the leadership with him. “See you tomorrow.”
“Think it’s a trap,” Dustin whispered as he saluted.
“For who?” Jaeger whispered back
“Let’s go for a walk, Gary.” Jaeger put his hand on his back as they left the room. “Remember when you were a battery commander?”
“Yessir.” Gary nodded.
“And do you remember in the beginning, how you tried to change everything all at once?” Jaeger turned towards a stairwell, opened the door.
Gary nodded. “Took a broken unit, made it function again.”
“And I get that.” Jaeger smiled nervously at him. “But do you remember how everyone was pissed off at you?”
“I remember it a little different, Sir.” A wall went up, Gary’s features now rock hard. “There was some complaining, sure, but that’s normal.”
Jaeger stopped, turned to him. “You don’t remember me coming down to your battery, trying to smooth things over with all your Soldiers and NCO’s?”
“I do.” Gary nodded blankly. “Just don’t remember it like-“
“And do you remember what they used to call you? Captain America?”
Gary gritted his teeth, a painful memory long repressed.
“I’m not saying I don’t have faith in you.” He put his hand on Gary’s shoulder. “But I don’t want a repeat. There’s more at stake; more people, less resources. It’s a powder keg here… I don’t want you to be the spark, understand me?”
“Sir, I assure you…” Gary tightened his posture. “We’ll be a well-oiled machine by the time you get back.”
“Damnit, Gary!” Jaeger let out an exasperated sigh. “A good commander knows when to let people off the hook and when to hold their feet to the fire.” Jaeger looked in his eyes, a model of military precision, absent any shred of compassion. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
“I…” He suppressed the urge to shrug. “… won’t let you down, Sir.”
“Have a seat,” Teegs said, staring up at Michael from his desk chair blankly, as if waiting for him to speak.
“What?” Michael said wide eyed with a shrug.
Teegs examined him, then shook his head. “Just checking.”
Michael scowled at him.
“I’m going to Fort Bragg,” Teegs said. It won’t be anything exciting. “Small team, just me and a flight crew. I need someone to-“
Michael’s eyes widened. “I’m coming.”
“But-“
“Captain Anders,” Michael said. “He’ll do fine running things while we’re gone… When do we leave?”
Teegs let out a long sigh. “Tomorrow morning. You follow my lead, understand?”
Michael nodded.
CHAPTER 20
The scent of fresh fallen snow and pine; a familiar place, the Siberian wilderness. His trek and unearthly ordeal behind him, Jacob felt in control now. Bound to the rules of physics, he was not. The engine of his 4x4 sputtered then seized. A chill went up his spine as the sun touched the tops of the conifers ahead.
He lay down in the back seat, his thin sleeping bag ill-suited for the brutality of Russian winter. He spent half the night shivering and hugging his sides; the following morning he squeezed th
e feeling back into his hands and feet.
His joints and muscles ached with cold as he slumped out of the relative safety of the vehicle. Once again… he walked. It was a poor choice of footwear in uninsulated leather boots. His feet quickly sweat, then froze.
Ice crystals that had collected on his eyelashes, now slowly melted as the midday sun shone over the trees. He caught a glimpse of a village in the distance. His rations gone, his stomach rumbled. But for his dark hair, and gender, he felt like Goldilocks, searching for porridge. The prospect of a bear or pack of wolves, much less hunters in his weakened state seemed daunting; He thought it best to expend the energy, reach out and scan the area for life.
Except for a few small animals, birds and the like, he felt nothing in the immediate area and approached.
Only three structures that he could see, it was less a village and more an outpost or hamlet. He walked into the nearest building, a small log cabin that looked to have stood for generations. It had a cold earthy smell as he entered the unlocked door. Dim light shone in to a single room – A table with two chairs, a bed in the corner, a wood stove and pantry.
He knelt down to the stove and shoved logs inside. He held onto a log, sensing the porous, fibrous material; then further to the hydrocarbonic structure. The molecules broke at his will, as smoke billowed from the stove. He looked around the sides, then pulled a lever to open the flue and blew his lungs empty, building the flame larger and larger.
He gathered snow in a cast iron skillet, poured out the contents from a bag of millet and waited for the concoction to boil. He noticed a hunting rifle propped in the corner and thought of the prospect of meat; then he pondered whether the previous occupant had died during the virus or of starvation and hypothermia… or maybe just old age. The thought of old age made him smile, as he hadn’t thought of that prospect, ever.
He ate the bland meal of millet with a bitter spice he had mistaken for pepper, helped himself to suitable boots and a coat, stuffed more logs in the fire and set out with the rifle. He walked out into the forest, not stopping to look back; the plume of smoke rising high above the treetops.