Project Brimstone

by Paul B Spence

  "Hello, wife," he said as soon as he saw Gillian.

  She blushed and embraced him, kissing his cheek in imitation of Jonas' wife Meredith.

  "I didn't want us to be separated," she whispered. "They wouldn't have let me stay and take care of you if I hadn't told them we were married."

  "I wasn't complaining."

  She gave him another quick peck on the cheek and rejoined Meredith in cooking.

  The house was filled with the smell of roasting meat, and his stomach growled, much to the delight of his host.

  "Means you worked hard," said Jonas.

  Harrison thought it had more to do with not eating for five days while unconscious, but he didn't say anything. Either way, he was famished, and that meat smelled good. He excused himself and went out back to get pills from his pack.

  Jonas' oldest boy Lucas was emptying his bowels behind a tree. He seemed totally unconcerned at being seen during his call of nature. He nodded to Harrison as he walked back to the house. It told Harrison that the social etiquette here was a lot different from his own culture's. He did wish that they knew a little bit about germs and hygiene, though. The kid hadn't even dug a cat hole.

  The loose floorboard in the shed was easy enough to find, and Harrison retrieved the pain pills and anti-inflammatories. The wrist device seemed to be undamaged. He took one of his suppressed pistols, his boots, and his worn socks from his pack. If he was going to be walking around in the dark, he wasn't going to do it barefoot. He also noticed the other suppressed pistol was missing, and wondered if Gillian had it with her.

  Gillian was waiting for him when he came out of the shed. She wordlessly passed him a ladle full of water from the bucket she had brought, to wash down the pills, and then proceeded to wash the dirt from his feet. He'd never had anyone wash his feet for him, at least not outside a hospital. It was strangely sensual, but then, everything about Gillian was strangely sensual.

  "You don't have to do that. you know."

  "I've been taking care of you for a week, now. I'm not going to let you die from an infected cut on your foot. Now tell me about what you learned."

  "Jonas was called to a meeting tonight," Harrison said quietly. "I'll be going with him."

  Gillian just nodded.

  "Are you okay?" he asked.

  "I'm fine. Just a bit scared. Meredith left me alone here today. I was worried soldiers might come by."

  "You've got my other pistol?"

  She nodded again. "Under my apron."

  "You've fired a .45 before, right?"

  ".45? I thought it was a 10mm."

  "11.43mm is the closest equivalent. It kicks some, but not badly. Just be ready to compensate with the second shot. I didn't see your rifle in there," Harrison added. "I thought you said you still had it."

  "It's under the bed, wrapped in a blanket. I wanted it close, at first..."

  "Understood." He was going to say more when Jonas' youngest son called out to them that dinner was ready.

  "Shall we?" Gillian said.

  "After you, wife."

  Dinner was much more lavish than the other two meals had been. The beef joint had been roasted with savory herbs, onions, and potatoes. Other than a side of the dark bread, the meat and potatoes made up the whole of the meal. Harrison ate slowly but soon realized he was expected to eat as much as he could. His hosts seemed happy to see him stuff himself. He was happy to oblige. It the best meal he'd had in a long time.

  After dinner, the boys ran off to play. Jonas sat by the fire and smoked a pipe filled with something that wasn't tobacco. Harrison would have helped clean up from dinner, but Meredith was scandalized and sent him off to his room with a light scolding. Apparently he'd worked enough.

  Gillian joined him not long after, closing the door as she came in.

  "Dinner was nice," Harrison said awkwardly.

  "They always make the last meal the heaviest."

  Harrison put on his socks and boots. Gillian helped him tie the boots when his left hand proved unresponsive.

  "You worked it too hard today," she scolded him.

  "I didn't have much choice. They had soldiers guarding the field."

  "You get a good look at their equipment?"

  "I did, and I have no idea how they could have world-hopping technology."

  "Pretty primitive, huh?"

  "Did you have a World War I in the early 1900s where you're from?" he asked.

  "Yup. Ended with a flu pandemic."

  "Same for us," Harrison said. "Their equipment looked straight out of the trenches of Europe."

  "No way they used their own technology, then. I've heard of armies being led between Realms by powerful beings. I suppose they could be a vanguard for an invasion."

  "Maybe. Their tactics suggest something else, though."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Invading armies rarely use violence to suppress a populace unless there's stiff resistance. These soldiers came in raping and pillaging. Their tactics are more those of a unit that has gone rogue. They're acting like armed bandits."

  "You think that, however they got here, they can't leave?"

  "Or get reinforcements," Harrison replied. "I'll know more after the meeting tonight."

  "I don't suppose that I could go with you."

  "I don't think that would be a good idea. This society seems rather patriarchal."

  Gillian sighed. "If I had more time, I'd plant the seeds of revolution in the women here."

  "It will come with time," Harrison said. "Look at them. They're barely above subsistence farming. Equality is going to have to wait until the labor can be more evenly divided."

  "You think it's easy to cook and clean and take care of the little ones?" Gillian said hotly.

  "I think that it's not as backbreaking as laboring out in the sun all day with a shovel," he replied. "Childbirth is dangerous, but after that, women tend to be cared for. Once these people industrialize, equality will come quickly enough."

  "Sorry," Gillian said, sitting on the bed. "I just hate inequality."

  "At least the women don't seem abused here," said Harrison. "I've seen much worse back on my own world."

  "I think the religion helps with that. Lots of goddesses."

  "Goddesses, huh?"

  Gillian met his eyes and blushed. "I like you a lot, Michael, but—" He cut her off with a kiss.

  She responded every bit as passionately as he could have hoped, shoving him back into the bed and climbing on top of him. Her hips seemed to thrust unconsciously as their lips locked together for what was almost an uncomfortable length of time.

  "I was going to say that I like you, too," Harrison said when she let him breathe. "Don't you think you're being a bit forward, Mrs. Harrison?"

  She punched him lightly on the chest; it hurt. She was a lot stronger than she looked. "It's Novakoph, actually."

  "Not if we're married, it isn't," he teased. "Not here."

  She sighed and laid her head on his chest. "You know why I had to tell them that."

  He slipped his good hand under her chin so he could lift her head up enough to look into her eyes. She felt so damn good lying on top of him, but if she stayed there any longer, he was going to do something they would both regret. He felt hard enough to chop wood. "I brought a lot of gear with me, my dear, but I'm afraid condoms weren't something I packed."

  "I have an implant to keep me from getting pregnant," she said softly. "So if you trust me..."

  "Why are you still dressed?"

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Jonas woke him a few minutes before midnight with a light knock on the door. "Are you awake, Michael?" he called.

  "I'll be down in a moment," Harrison replied.

  Gillian helped him get dressed in the dark, and gave him a long tender kiss before he got up to leave. "Be careful," she whispered.

  "I will," he said. "Keep the pistol handy. I'll be back as soon as I can. Stay safe."

  Jonas nodded to him when he came do
wn the stairs, and then led him out into the night without a word. If he'd heard Gillian and Harrison's lovemaking, he didn't say anything about it. Probably thought it was fairly normal.

  Harrison was still flushed and giddy from sex with Gillian. She had been amazing, wild and passionate. The more cynical part of his mind suggested that she had slept with him only to make sure that he'd take her with him when he left, but he rejected that almost immediately. Gillian was strong, a survivor. She had her own ways of moving from universe to universe. She was also very intelligent. He knew she could have figured out how to use the wrist device and left, if she'd wanted to leave him. She'd chosen to throw her lot in with him instead.

  Damn, what a woman.

  Jonas led him through the woods to a house at the end of the small village. He knocked on a basement door, and they were let in without a word. Most of the men and a few of the older boys who had been working in the field earlier were gathered in the basement. The air was thick with the smell of burning animal fat and unwashed farmers.

  A man with a long, white beard stepped forward. "I'm Elder Abraham, stranger. Jonas says you were strong enough to work today."

  "I was happy to do my part, sir."

  "Good. Good. I'm afraid I have some bad news for you, stranger. We have word that the soldiers intend to execute your friends at noon tomorrow."

  Harrison nodded. He'd figured they wouldn't wait much longer. "I hope you understand that I can't allow that to happen," he said.

  "We figured you for a soldier of some kind," said Jonas.

  Harrison hesitated before nodding. "From a long distance away from here."

  Elder Abraham laughed. "You needn't be coy. We know the storm dropped you here. What we're trying to figure is what hand the gods had in you coming. Do you think you can truly help us fight these devils?" Some of the other men muttered at that, but Harrison couldn't make out what they said.

  "I'll need more information before I can answer that."

  "Like what?"

  "How many soldiers are there?"

  "No more than three dozen," Jonas answered.

  "Still a lot of men. Their rifles, how fast do they shoot?"

  "Faster than ours," a man from back in the basement said. "Devils fire twice for every shot we tried to take back. They hit as often as not, too. Scary accurate."

  "That's actually good news," said Harrison. "That means they don't have automatic weapons."

  "They do have one piece of devilry," Abraham said. "They have a gun that fires so fast it can cut a man in half. They also have sticks that explode."

  "How many fast guns do they have?"

  "Just the one," Jonas answered.

  "I don't suppose anyone found a strange rifle in the woods where I landed."

  Abraham nodded. "We found something. Didn't know what to make of it. Bring it here, Bart."

  One of the young men fished behind a crate and brought a cloth-wrapped bundle to Harrison.

  "That it?" asked Jonas.

  Harrison knew from the weight that it was his SCAR. He unwrapped it and checked it thoroughly. Everything seemed good. "Nothing a spot of oil won't fix."

  "What kind of gun is that?" Bart asked.

  "The kind of gun that can win this battle for you." Harrison pulled out the magazine and showed them the large bullets. "It can fire as fast as you can pull the trigger, or if you hold the trigger down, it can fire twenty shots faster than you can load a musket once."

  Jonas whistled. "What's the range?"

  "You use feet and yards to measure?" When Jonas nodded, he continued. "It has an accurate range of about three hundred yards over open sights. Three times that with the scope I have in my pack."

  Jonas and Abraham exchanged unreadable glances. "You can show us how to make guns like this?" asked Jonas.

  "I'm sorry. I would if I could," Harrison said, "but I didn't make this gun. I know how to use it, clean it, keep it working, but not how to build it. I don't think you have the requisite tools, to be honest."

  "Well, even so, you think you can help rid us of these devils?"

  "I do. The machine gun is the only thing that worries me, but I think I can take it out before it hits me. I'm more worried about my friends. How do the soldiers execute people?"

  "They hang them in the courtyard of the keep."

  "Keep?"

  "Back in my grandfathers' grandfathers' day, there was a lord who ruled over the five villages," said Abraham. "He is long since gone, and his house is in ruins, but that is where the soldiers made camp."

  "It's where they took my Annabelle," Bart said, his voice full of anger. "It's where they take all the women."

  "So we need to lure them away from the camp," said Harrison. "If I distract them, can you get my people free?"

  Jonas nodded. "We wouldn't have much chance against that fast gun, though."

  "I'll take care of that, and as many of the soldiers as I can. You people just be ready to get Raven and Anton and make a run for it."

  "What about our women?" Bart asked.

  "They should be safe in the keep while we're fighting. You can get them out afterward."

  "What's your plan?"

  "Do they encourage people to come watch the executions?"

  Jonas snorted. "You could say that. We're required to be there."

  "Everyone or just the men?"

  "Just the men. Why?"

  "The older boys know how to shoot?"

  "Aye."

  "How do you normally get into the keep? Is there just one door?"

  "There's a big hole in the wall."

  "Excellent."

  "I'll go in with the men. When I attack, get my people free and get out of the keep as fast as you can. Believe me, I'll be keeping the soldiers' attention. Have the boys set up at extreme musket range. When the enemy comes out, everyone open fire. Don't even try to aim; just slow them down and get them to bunch up. Have your people fire one round and then fall back. I'll take care of the rest."

  "Sounds like a damn fool plan to me," said Bart.

  "You got a better one?"

  "We'll do as you say," Abraham said. "You realize that if you fail, they'll kill us all?"

  "I won't let that happen." Harrison hoped he could keep that promise.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Gillian didn't like the plan.

  "You're crazy. You know that, right?"

  "I'll be fine, Gillian. I've faced worse odds than these before," Harrison said.

  "Uh-huh, sure."

  He kissed her goodbye and walked down the stairs to meet Jonas. Harrison had dressed in his old black field uniform and ballistic armor. He figured that at this point, it didn't matter what he wore. The big battle rifle was going to be a sure sign he wasn't a local. He might as well draw some of the enemy's fire, if he could.

  Harrison wished he had brought a few more grenades for his launcher, but he'd just have to make do. He had only fifty-seven rounds left for his rifle, which worried him more. If he was going to pull this off, he'd have to make each bullet count.

  He settled his boonie hat and nodded to Jonas. "I'm ready." He would have liked to have his helmet, but no one had found it. He wondered if it had been blown to some other world and what the people who found it would think of it.

  Jonas led the way without speaking. Harrison had gotten up just before sunrise that morning and reconnoitered the keep. It was every bit as dilapidated as the villagers had suggested. The enemy posted soldiers atop the walls, but he suspected that they would be looking inward during the execution. That was the plan, anyway.

  He and Jonas met up with other men walking toward the keep, and a few pleasantries were exchanged, but Harrison could sense their nervousness. He hoped the soldiers at the keep would just think it was the normal nervousness of villagers ordered to attend an execution, and not that they were planning something.

  Harrison left the group before they exited the woods, to avoid being seen by the soldiers. He had reconnoitered a route
to the keep wall that morning. The woods were dense and grew right up to the southern wall of the keep, something that the soldiers should have remedied but were too lazy to do anything about.

  When he reached the wall of the keep, he began climbing, careful not to dislodge any rocks and give away his position. When he reached the top, he drew his suppressed pistol and pulled himself the rest of the way up. As he had hoped, the guard was watching the villagers filing into the keep through the breach. He was too close to the wall to shoot; he'd fall over and give up his position.

  Harrison holstered his pistol and drew his knife. In one deft motion, he slipped his hand over the man's mouth and pulled him back into the knife held low and point up. It entered between the soldier's ribs and pierced his heart. Harrison was almost afraid his wrist was going to give out before the man died, but he finally stopped thrashing. Harrison gave the knife a vicious twist before pulling it out and wiping it on the dead man's clothes.

  Glancing cautiously over the wall, Harrison saw that Raven and Anton had been brought out and were standing on a scaffold. They didn't look as if they'd been abused too badly, although Raven was slumping a little, probably weak from the leg injury he'd sustained escaping the JRC.

  "When the hell did my life get so strange?" Harrison muttered as he unslung his rifle.

  Once he started shooting, everything down there was going to go to hell in a hurry. He watched the crowd through his scope, keeping the lens covered with one hand to prevent it from reflecting sunlight and giving up his position. There. Jonas was close to the platform, along with a few of the tougher-looking villagers. Harrison could see them fingering concealed knives. He could also see that at least one of the guards had noticed; he was pointing to Jonas and saying something to the other guard.

  Well, that makes target selection easier, Harrison thought.

  He brought the rifle to bear on the man's head and squeezed the trigger. Then came the recoil, which was always a surprise when done right, and the man's head splashed away in a burst of red and grey gore.