Ascension: Children of The Spear: Book one

by Rhett Gervais

  “That was Gucci, assholes. You’ll pay for that!” she said, enraged. She would fight tits out, naked as the day she was born. She couldn’t care less. With a feral yell, she charged once again, a whirlwind of destruction, decimating everything in her path without mercy. She had their attention now. The tanks, the drones circling the Capitol building cutting it to pieces, all turned to her, unleashing a fury of rocket fire, flame, and burning liquid metal down on her exposed form, blinding her in the moment. Gwen found herself at the heart of a fiery crater, forced to a knee, the enemy unrelenting in their assault to see her destroyed. She could feel the impacts, small hurts on invincible skin, pushing her back. Whispers of doubt bubbled up from deep within her, speaking in her mother’s cruel tongue, calling her a failure, mocking her for being a whore. Power waning, fatigue building in tired fists, she had to end this, turn the tide before self-doubt stole victory from her.

  “Fuck you assholes! Bring it on!” she screamed, the thought of her mother’s sneering face giving her strength. She forced herself to her feet, bracing herself, suddenly inspired. She spread her arms wide, absorbing the fury, drawing the machines in. She lifted slowly into the air, the center of the maelstrom. Taking a deep breath, with every ounce of strength she slammed her hands together in a deafening thunderclap, sending a wave of exploding pressure outward, compressing the very air, igniting it, incinerating everything in its path. Faster than she could blink, the wave pushed outward, shattering concrete and iron, melting steel, meting out devastation in its wake.

  When it was done, she found herself floating above a barren and broken landscape, a crater beneath her the size of a football field, dust and ash drifting in the air, nothing moving. Exhaustion overcoming her, she fell to the ground, her breath labored. The butcher had been fed. Death should be satiated with what she had done here today. She would return to the hangar. She lifted off, and it felt easier now, more natural. She aimed for the clouds, hungering for cool, clean air to chase away the scent of smoke and death in her nostrils, only to find gravity clawing at her heels and dragging her painfully back to the crater her shockwave had made. With a grunt, she fell to her hands and knees, struggling to understand what was happening, jumbled thoughts running away from her. The world became a blur, spinning topsy-turvy as she stumbled to her feet, the corners of her vision going dark. She clutched at her throat, desperate to breathe. There was nothing she could do. Her strength was useless here. She closed her eyes as her world went dark, and she waited for the end.

  Chapter 21: D.C. to Pennsylvania

  May 2076

  The choking ash blotted out the sun, turning day to night as a shroud of dust hung unmoving over the destroyed capital. It had been only a few hours since Gwen had done the impossible, displaying a level of power no one could have imagined. The explosion had set into motion a nightmare for the country, an American Hiroshima, the largest loss of life and property ever in the history of the nation. When Gwen hadn’t returned or contacted them, he thought the worst. Arthur had immediately commandeered a medical evac helicopter, a dust off as they were known. He and his pilot had been searching for hours with little to show for it. He was desperate to find something, any sign that she was still alive, but hope was quickly fading along with the sun. She had to be down there somewhere. He remembered with a sinking feeling standing in the hangar at Andrews and being knocked off his feet from the shockwave. They learned very quickly she was at the heart of it. The news cameras were still broadcasting on repeat her unbelievable attack on enemy forces. The city that was no longer a city. Around the Capitol building, every living thing had been vaporized, turned into the heavy dust that they struggled to fly through, a situation made more difficult due to the heart of the nation being reduced to broken concrete and stone. Finding a single girl was an almost impossible task, but he kept looking anyway.

  “There’s nothing to see down there, sir, so we should head to the evac with everyone else,” said his pilot, his voice sounding tiny and far away through Arthur’s headset. Ignoring him, he continued to scan for any signs of life from the co-pilot’s seat. The dust off, an army air ambulance unit normally used to transport casualties from the battlefield flew blindly, the pilot relying purely on instrumentation to navigate. He could understand his trepidation; one misstep and it would be over. It was dangerous to be flying in these conditions, foolish even, but Arthur didn’t care. He would find Gwen one way or another. He would dig through the rubble by hand if he had to.

  “Just keep circling the area. If she’s down there, I’ll find her,” said Arthur, concentrating. He closed his eyes and fell into his core, bringing forth his odd power of seeing the world as light and energy. After a moment, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes. It was always unnerving, seeing the world this way, electrical currents coursing like blood through the wire harness of the helicopter, every input to the controls pulsing with energy, the machine looking almost alive. Even the fires of fuel being vaporized and pumped into the engines of the aircraft were visible to him. In the pilot beside him he could see faint traces of the things that kept him alive, body heat, bioelectrical impulses, the small magnetic field that surrounded his body—everything was visible. Looking out the window once again, it was no longer a fog of thick haze and dust hanging over the city. Though it was mostly dark, he could see trace remnants of the energy wave that had destroyed everything as waves of heat. “Get lower, please,” said Arthur, looking for these same signs of life on the ground.

  “You can’t be serious! No way. I don’t care who you think you are, I’m not risking this bird for one little bitch,” said the pilot, exasperated. Arthur said nothing, not having the capacity to be angry right now. He simply reached out with his will, seizing control of the power module of the helicopter, the computers. With a thought, he wrenched control from the pilot, turning the machine into an extension of himself. He could hear the engines scream and the rotors fight for lift as he forced the machine lower into the dust cloud, the pilot at his side wailing like a child, fighting for control through the analog systems. Arthur knew those systems were mostly for show nowadays; everything was fly by wire, computer controlled, and Arthur controlled the computer. It was much easier this way, more precise. Just him and the machine, no people in his way.

  Arthur remembered when he had first done this, controlled machines. It had been physically taxing, draining, but it had gotten easier with time. Now he could control the chopper with little effort and still concentrate on finding Gwen without strain.

  As he brought them lower, he began to see faint traces, little electrical impulses here and there. Farther out from the primary blast, dead bodies were succumbing to entropy, releasing their last currents of life. There was much to see, thousands of bodies buried in the remains of the city. The more he saw, the more he understood what to look for, little telltale signs of life. He was getting close, he could feel it.

  “Hey, buddy,” said the pilot, shaking him suddenly, breaking his concentration. With a start, Arthur came back to reality to find the pilot leveling his sidearm in his face, hands rock steady. “I don’t know how you took control of this bird, but it stops right now. You keep us this low in this dust for much longer and you risk stalling the engine and killing us both. Don’t be stupid. Take us up now or I shoot you.”

  Arthur’s shoulders slumped with weariness. Part of him wanted to let the man shoot him just to laugh at him, but it would be disastrous if the bullet ricocheted in the wrong way. “You could shoot, but your weapon wouldn’t do much,” said Arthur, struggling to keep the heat out of his voice. “You understand I’m a member of Divinity Corps, ascended, blessed by God and all that. I could kill you before you blinked, but lucky for you, I don’t like violence, and it would be nice to have you to help me. Your choice.”

  Arthur could see the struggle in the pilot’s face, his eyes darting nervously between Arthur and his gun. “I’m not gonna risk my life for a fucked-up kid who blows the major bishop every night.”<
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  Arthur turned away, his face going a deep shade of red, disgusted with himself. Did the entire world know? Taking a deep breath, he stuffed his anger down deep as he began, “Yes, I am with the major bishop...often. I know him very well. I am something he values a great deal. If anything happened to me, what do you think he would do to you?” said Arthur, lowering his voice.

  “C’mon, man, fuck this shit, I can’t get in touch with my wife. I don’t know if my kids are ok. I just wanna get home.”

  Ignoring his plea, Arthur continued, his voice cold, “If I disappeared and you were the last person I was seen with, you don’t think he would hunt you down, punish you in ways too horrible to imagine? I know some of his mind. Whatever nightmares you can conjure in your tiny brain, it would be worse, and it wouldn’t be quick. He likes to take his time. It would go on for days, until your mind broke and there was just a shell of a person left. Is that what you want, or...can you just fly the fucking helicopter?” He could see sweat forming on the man’s upper lip, a slight tremble in his hand. “Just fly, help me find my friend, quickly. Both of us will make it out of this, and we can say we survived the day, ok?”

  “Ok, sorry,” said the pilot, wiping his forearm across his brow before putting his gun away. He rubbed his trembling hands on his pants, leaving streaks of sweat, taking hold of the controls once again. “Give me back the stick, I’ll keep her as low as I can. Please, let’s get this shit done fast.”

  Grateful, Arthur returned to looking outside and they flew on in silence, the pilot struggling to keep them afloat in the dust. Hours later, just as the sun was setting, Arthur spotted a golden current of bioelectricity just beneath the dust and debris, not just the slight traces of the dying, but a powerful signature of life. He turned to the pilot with a mix of excitement and trepidation in his voice. “I think I see her. Can we land?”

  “No way. We land, and we’re never getting in the air again. But we can lower the ladder with a gurney for her,” said the pilot, reaching for the controls to lower it. “You can get down that way.”

  “It’ll be faster if I get down on my own,” said Arthur, moving to the back of the helicopter and opening the door, bracing himself against the frame, not wanting to be blown out by the heavy winds. “Send down the gurney, I’ll signal when we’re ready to come up.”

  With a nod from the pilot, Arthur leapt through the open door, weightless for a moment before plummeting, wind screaming in his ears, to the ground below. His landing blew fractured concrete in all directions, a micro-explosion scattering ash and sending up a large plume of dust. Quickly brushing off his dark uniform, he began to dig wildly with his bare hands, like a man possessed, tossing aside chunks of building and brick twice his size as if they were nothing. At his frenzied pace, the work went quickly, and before long his heart leapt in his chest when he saw the first few wisps of her blonde hair, his adrenaline surging with hope, propelling him to dig faster.

  When at last he uncovered her, she lay facedown, her alabaster skin dark with soot, naked, the blast having incinerated her clothing. Arthur did his best to gently roll her over, his eyes darting in a wild panic, searching for signs of injury. Brushing her blonde hair from her face, he shuddered, holding back tears when he saw her chest rise and fall. He fell back on his haunches in a daze, staring at her small breasts, the pink of her nipples in stark contrast to the rest of her grime-covered body.

  “Can you hear me up there?” he asked, tapping on his earpiece, shouting to be heard over the cutting sound of the helicopter blades.

  “Sir, get her on the gurney, I’m not sure how long I can keep this up, engines are barely hanging on as it is,” said the pilot, desperation in his voice.

  Nodding to himself, Arthur got to his feet, lifting her small form gently onto the gurney, securing her in place before signaling to the pilot to take them up. Looking down at her still form, he began to worry. She barely stirred despite them whipping around as they rose to safety.

  “Get us out of here, please,” said Arthur to the pilot as they boarded. The pilot wasted no time taking the chopper above the dust cloud, the helicopter pitching forward as they raced toward the setting sun, the sky gold and pink with the last rays of the day.

  “Heading to the rally point, sir. We’ll stop and refuel before heading to a secure medical facility, last I heard somewhere in Pennsylvania.”

  Arthur nodded absently while he busied himself with Gwen, placing a sensor pod on her temple and another on her chest, a holographic image of her vitals projecting just above her, everything he needed to know condensed into a single image of blue and red. Decoding the image, he could see a pulse and some brain activity. Beyond that, he wasn’t sure what was wrong with her. She was alive, at least. He would have to wait until they landed to get a medic, and in the meantime he busied himself trying to make her comfortable. Wiping the soot from her face, making sure a pillow was well placed to support her neck, searching for an emergency blanket to keep her warm. Settling the blanket in place, his hand brushed against the small of her pelvis, grazing a small tuft of pubic hair. Arthur froze, unable to look away, his breathing suddenly heavy. His hand lingered, having only seen naked girls on the holo-net, much less touched one. He knew what to do, of course, and his friends from back home had all bragged about sex with girls in the neighborhood, but he was always small, and the girls never paid much attention to him. This was Gwen…she had become the voice in his head, the person he wanted to be with—

  “Everything ok back there, sir?” said the pilot in his earpiece. Arthur jumped as though a million volts had coursed through him, his heart pounding. Arthur shook off his stupor, pulling his hand away like he’d burned himself, covering her in haste. With a struggle he banished the memory of her naked body from his mind, driving any desire into the darkest corner and locking it away.

  “I’ve managed to get her vitals up on the holo-projector. She’s alive, but I can’t really understand much on this image,” he said, hoping the pilot couldn’t hear the trembling in his voice.

  “That’s ok, just keep her breathing. Hold on tight, our rally point is Iron Mountain. We’re not too far out, so I’m gonna burn the rest of our fuel to get us there ASAP. Let’s pray to God there’s a medic.”

  Arthur braced himself as the helicopter increased speed, pressing him back against the bulkhead. Grateful, he slowly slid down the cool metal frame of the chopper, drawing himself into a ball, hugging his knees. He was afraid to get close to her now, not trusting himself. She would be safer with him far as away from her as possible. He wouldn’t become like the major bishop; he could never be so evil, could he? He kept telling himself that he was still just Arthur, but a small voice in the back of his mind kept reminding him that he was more like the major bishop than he would admit.

  ***

  It was just after twilight when the helicopter touched down into chaos. The airfield was a mess of emergency transports of all kinds fighting for position to land, almost on top of one another. The sky was a dull bluish gray with thunderheads echoing in the distance, the air heavy with humidity from the coming storm. It had been a long flight, Arthur having spent most of it pressed against the bulkhead curled into a ball, too terrified to move, afraid of what he might do.

  Iron Mountain was an old mining complex that some dotcom billionaire had converted into an underground data center to protect credit data for the rich, carved out of the bedrock of Western Pennsylvania. After today’s attack, it served as the seat of government for the United States, a refuge for high-level government officials and their families who had fled the destruction of Washington. From the air, there was little to see aside from the runways and landing pads. There were no out-buildings of any kind, just gaping maws every few hundred yards that led deep into the earth. The doors to the place were deeper inside, massive things taller than ten men built directly into granite, protected by barbed wire fences and soldiers who shot trespassers on sight.

  They had been in contact with t
he base en route, so Arthur didn’t have to worry about being shot. The pilot wasted no time getting airborne again, grateful to be rid of them, racing to find his family. Making his way down the dimly lit hole in the earth, Arthur was quickly admitted to the stronghold, bypassing a long line of disheveled and desperate faces clinging to their friends and loved ones. Arthur’s head moved like it was on a swivel, hunting for a medic of any kind, pressing through the throngs of refugees. There should have been someone waiting for them to cut through the red tape and get Gwen to treatment immediately, but there was no one. Not sure what to do, Arthur pressed forward, ignoring the pleas of the personnel trying to organize the chaos, control the masses of people suddenly in their midst. Hurrying down the overfull corridors, he couldn’t help but stare at the crowds. They were dirty, beaten down, eyes vacant, but Arthur couldn’t help but notice that their clothing, while disheveled and covered in blood, screamed of privilege. Jewelry, expensive expressions of their individuality, tattoos, and piercings no hungry person would ever waste money on. In fact, not one of them looked like they had ever missed a meal. He knew they had evacuated only the people who mattered, the rich and powerful. They had left the poor to fend for themselves, to die like they always did. No one cared about the poor unless they were like Arthur and had something the rich and powerful wanted. The thought made his stomach turn.