The Apocalypse Script

by Samuel Fort

  Chapter 39 - Shock Troops

  Shock troops from the 4th and 10th Peth-Allati ascended the mountain in eight non-descript recreational vehicles that were dispatched from Denver at twenty-minute intervals. Each RV carried a squad of men and women who were dressed not as soldiers, but eco-tourists, some wearing denim shorts and others cargo pants, some tee-shirts and others sweat shirts. Some wore ball caps or bandanas. Most wore high-end hiking boots and all carried oversized backpacks. It was in their backpacks they the Peth carried their combat armor, assault gear and weaponry, some of it disassembled.

  The RV’s discharged their occupants into a small gravel lot located at the foot of a state nature trail. The trail was seven miles in length, climbing up through the dense forest to a small waterfall before circling back and descending to an exit point twenty yards from where it began. The Peth made use of only the first three miles of the trail before diverging from it and moving through a long gully that would eventually take them to the hills overlooking the old Steepleguard Hotel.

  A script had been issued closing the trail to tourists due to “unsafe conditions” caused by the heavy rains that had begun the evening before and continued even now. Colonel Rudger, Lord Moros’s senior guard and the Peth responsible for leading the contingent to Steepleguard, was of the opinion that the Nisirtu had inadvertently done the Ardoon a favor. While conditions were not exactly unsafe, they were definitely not suited for admiring nature’s wonders. The dirt trail shown on his maps had morphed into a rushing stream with banks so muddy that his boots were sucked six inches into the earth with each ponderous step. The ceaseless downpour and pockets of mist limited visibility to twenty feet.

  It had taken the century of Peth most of afternoon to reach their staging point, a clearing a quarter mile from the wooded ridge at the perimeter of Steepleguard. Rudger checked his watch when they arrived and saw that it was 1645 hours. The reception was still more than two hours away. He moved forward with a scout to survey the grounds below and saw the giant building that he had become so familiar with through photographs, satellite images, and drawings. Parked near the entrance were dozens of vehicles and semi-trailers around which buzzed a seemingly endless throng of Ardoon workers.

  Worker bees, Rudger thought contemptuously, bringing pollen to the queen inside the hive.

  He summoned his platoon leaders to his side to allow them the opportunity to lay eyes on their target and then sent them back to brief their squad leaders. When they were gone he pulled out his phone and texted “96” to Lords Moros and Nizrok, notifying them that he and his troops were in position and ready to attack when the signal was given.

  Then, he waited.

  “Fiela,” said Lilian, “I cannot find our husband. It is two hours until the reception. Have you seen him?”

  “No,” the girl replied. Not since I humiliated him. “He went looking for him this morning and I have not been able to find him since, nor uncle. They must be together somewhere.”

  Lilian bit her lip and met the girl’s eyes. “You will not find your uncle.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Scriptus Ridley has left Steepleguard.”

  This shocked the girl, who said nothing for a moment. Then, “Why?”

  “He said his mission was done here and that he had another to accomplish elsewhere.”

  “When will he return?”

  The woman ran her fingers gently through the girl’s red locks. “I spoke to him only briefly. He was quite hurried but said he would try to return as soon as possible and asked that I extend his love to you.”

  Fiela’s glossy eyes shifted to some imaginary object behind Lilian. “Did he say what task he had to accomplish?”

  Lilian could see the Peth’s sadness. “No, but Sister, do not concern yourself. He is far older and wiser than you or I. Whatever he is doing, it is in our best interest. He would not leave, otherwise.”

  “I know,” said the girl, “yet he is my only relative. I should have liked to have said goodbye.”

  Lilian lifted the Peth’s chin. “He is certainly not your only relative. Am I not your sister and is not Ben your husband?”

  This brought the glimmer of a smile. “Yes. I did not mean that.”

  “Think also that in the coming years we will have sons and daughters to share our lives with. Shall they not be our relatives?”

  “I should hope they are,” laughed Fiela through the tears that she vainly attempted to blink away. More tears, she lamented. First for Ben and now for her uncle and sometimes for parents she couldn’t even remember. Was everyone she loved destined to disappear?

  She swept both eyes with the back of one hand, succeeding in only smearing the wetness. “I should like that, if our husband is agreeable.”

  “Sister,” said Lilian firmly, “I have no doubts that our husband will want to have children with you. What a silly idea, that he would not. We shall have many children because we shall need many princes and princesses and dukes and duchesses to govern our kingdom.”

  Fiela looked surprised. “I shall be the mother of a prince? I had not thought of that. A week ago I hoped merely to keep my life.”

  The other woman said, “We must both endeavor to stay alive. That will, in truth, be a challenge in the days to come. But if we do, the world is ours. Truly - the world!”

  “And the Nisirtu shall be restored, uncorrupted,” said Fiela, “and the Maqtu destroyed.”

  The women embraced and Lilian said, “It shall be done.” She lowered her eyes and said, “Are you well?”

  Fiela wondered whether she should tell her sister about what had happened at breakfast. Lilian would know how to deal with such a situation, wouldn’t she? But the Peth could not compel herself to do so. The humiliation of her failure was too great. “I am near fully recovered,” she said. “Thank you for your mercy and kindness.”