Going Forward into the Unknown

Today I’m happy to start Fictive Mists at fictivemists.wordpress.com, giving myself a chance to write multiple stories and share them.  Below is the last post of the Augmented Industries story, but feel free to check out my new site as I start many new stories (flash fiction and short stories) and post three days a week (M/W/F).

When morning came, Sara was gone.  All that remained was a singed ring in the grass and the charred remains of some Wendigo limbs.  As we helped the townspeople to recover from the battle of the night before, we started to come to grips with our own situation.  We weren’t quite sure of how to find our way back home or even if the doorway to Earth was still out beyond the sands.  And even if we could make our way back, then we’d have to deal with all the complications of the Augmented Industries facility again.

And although we wanted to rescue Bruce, no one could say for certain if he’d live or not, or even if Drake and Andretti truly would let us go when we returned.

So we spent the next week doing our best to rebuild the town and explore the labyrinths under the Wendigo bunkers, ignoring our feelings as best as possible.  And luckily, we were able to find Sam’s son deep down below, malnourished but alive.

I found little alone time with Campbell except over food and before heading to bed, and that was often spent talking about our immediate plans for improving the lifestyle of these people we’d rescued from war.  I did, however, manage to talk to Rachel fairly often, as we worked together while Campbell did the heavy lifting.  Most times it would end with Rachel crying softly, the pain of losing Sara and our continued predicament feeling pretty overwhelming.  And I hate to say it, but it helped the two of us to get closer.

But no matter how much we enjoyed this new world and the people in it, we couldn’t stay.

After a week or two of helping Sam and his people (we lost track of time a bit as we settled in), we started packing up some supplies for the journey back.  If we were heading back to that hell hole on Earth, we might as well have some swords and torches ready.

Eventually, when we’d said goodbye to everyone and gathered up our bags, we headed back into the desert  (during the day this time so we could see where we were headed).  At first it seemed hopeless, but after a couple of hours of walking in zigzags, Rachel pointed out a faint purple blur at the top of a ridge in the distance.  Somber, we headed for it in silence, the past and future weighing heavy on us, but the bonds between us closer than ever.

 

Thanks for reading, everyone!  See you at fictivemists.wordpress.com

Fifty Years to End in Glory

On cue, the battalions of soldiers near the breach in the wall met the swarming Wendigo, forming a battle line set back from the wall.  We waited a few seconds for them to establish the position and lock the Wendigo in place, and then I signaled Campbell.

He leapt from the wall, bulking out his muscles as he fell, until he was an immense mass by the time he struck the ground, his overgrown legs cushioning his landing.  Without wasting any time, he pushed off into a gallop, building up speed as he approached the soldiers and monsters.  Holding his arms up in front of himself like an imperfect shield, he plowed into the Wendigo, crushing many and sending others flying in all directions.  Most of the soldiers were able to dive back out of the way as they saw Campbell coming, though from up on the wall it looked like some were late and blowed aside by Campbell’s charge.  But they eventually recovered.

Campbell slowed and turned his attention to the hole in the wall, batting aside any Wendigo that dared step through, leaving them dazed and at the mercy of the torch, sword, and noose-wielding soldiers.  I kept Rachel and Sara by my side up at the wall, as we were mostly directing the soldiers, keeping their emotions in check, and trying to confuse the enemy.

But it wasn’t long until Campbell started to tire and I could see the girls were losing steam, as the Wendigo kept coming.  They continued to batter the walls and we were running low on tar and arrows.

So I ordered a retreat.

“Campbell,” I called down to him through a mental projection from Rachel, “we’re falling back.  Scoop up any wounded and head to the village.  We’ll meet you there.”  Just after, she sent images to all the soldiers of their town, signaling the retreat as we’d arranged.  I hoped Campbell would still have the strength to fight if need be.

We hustled back, but it was slow going.  I had Rachel send copies of many of the soldiers and Campbell off through the fields in a different direction and Sara hit the Wendigo with as strong a feeling of fear as she could, hoping it would break through their blood lust.

Luckily, the combination of their abilities confused the beasts enough to slow them down as they tried to figure out where we really were.

By the time they’d sniffed us out, we were mostly in the village.  I crossed our makeshift bridge over the trench last and had Campbell pull back the planks, leaving a moat of rusty swords embedded in the ground to the base of each blade.

“That ought to hold them back,” said Samuel.  “Glad you folks are on our side.”

“Get your men posted on all sides,” I told him.  “Have them report any problems.”

We huddled all the wounded and children into the central most homes.  And soon the Wendigo were upon us again.

Blind with rage and the need to eat flesh, the first of they fell wildly into the trench, impaling themselves upon the blades.  They couldn’t move.  But what I hadn’t counted on was them flooding the village from one side, falling one onto another until the blades were buried in twitching, bleeding bodies.

The remaining mass of the Wendigo army stopped at the edge of the moat, but they were starting to figure out the danger, and the first few crept onto the bodies of their fallen comrades and were inching their way over.  There were probably a good seventy-five of them left, but only around twenty-five of us who I’d call ready to fight.  The process of killing them was too damn convoluted and killing or maiming our men so easy.

But there was no going back.  We all knew we’d have to hold our ground.  And Campbell, Sara, and Rachel looked exhausted.

“Campbell, keep an eye on my body.  Put me somewhere safe if you can.”  He started to argue, but I ignored him and slipped from my body.  I had to keep as many of them from making it across the moat as possible.

So I possessed the closest one and threw him over the side, sharing everything as each blade entered his body, his death howls enhancing the excruciation.  But I kept at it, tossing them to their deaths over and over, seeing my friends through their eyes and knowing I couldn’t stop.

At some point I must have passed out briefly, because I awoke back in my body, scared for a second that I’d died along with the last Wendigo I’d inhabited.

I sat up and realized I was on a rooftop, overlooking the fifty or so Wendigo trying to cross the moat.  Campbell had reverted to his normal size, unable to mount the strength to enlarge himself.  The men and my friends were all starting to huddle back into a cowering mob, with Sara and Rachel unable to keep their spirits up as impending doom approached.

I saw as Sara took a look around and assessed the situation.  She turned to look at me and seemed about to try and say something before she looked away again.

She sprinted forward to the moat and leapt, throwing herself over the bodies and rusted swords, surrounding herself with an auric shield, pink around the edges.  She was able to barrel through the first few Wendigo before her shield petered out, but she was on the other side of the moat, surrounded.

They turned to face her, engulfing her.  From what little I could see between bony arms and protruding ribs, her eyes burned a heavy glaze of pink and purple flame and she was more angry than I’d ever seen her.  She held her arms out, then lifted them up above her head.  It seemed the whole world went silent.  And then there was an eruption, a ripple of heat and light blowing out in all directions from where Sara stood, the light shooting straight up into the night, blinding everyone and forcing us to look away from the burning fluorescence fringed with pink.  When I was able to look again, nothing remained.

Sara, the Wendigo, even the edges of some surrounding trees and rooftops; it was all gone.

Burst Forth into Darkness

The first we saw of them were their eyes glowing out of the line of trees as soon as the last beams of sun had vanished beyond the horizon.  They seemed endless, and although we’d all see their numbers in one form or another the night before, I knew Sara was already bolstering our forces with a wave of confidence.

Many of us stood along the wall, some of the soldiers wore blacksmith’s gloves and stood next to huge cauldrons of boiling tar.  Others held bows and started dipped their first arrows in tar to light them on fire.  The rest stood with swords, pitchforks, nooses, and torches down below, a distance back, prepared for when the Wendigo would burst through the wall.

I hoped that they would stalk forward slowly, testing the waters, but I knew they wouldn’t.  They burst forth from the forest in a rippling, sprinting wave, their bony, skin-taut bodies flying across the grass.  In running ranks, the first group was across the field so fast that our archers couldn’t even get shots off before they’d reached the wall.  They fired straight down as the Wendigo threw their shoulders against the wall, some scratching it with their claws, opening up new cracks before they were shot and bursting into flames.

The archers then turned their gaze back to the lines of trees where many more eyes glowed out.

“Fire,” I ordered, as I saw the first warped foot slip from out of the shadows.  Most of the arrows struck their targets, though some were embedded in trees, lighting the area around them, if only briefly.

We had plenty of arrows and tar, but our men couldn’t shoot all of them.  Plenty slid through and started ramming the wall.

We kept the archers firing long and waited until small mobs of them were clumped together beneath us, some leaping up to cling to the wall, but most ramming it with such strength that their vibrations started to move the wall under our feet.  Sara kept the arrows on target, Rachel sending horrifying images of ghouls and diseased men and Wendigo floating through them, trying to shake their foundations.  Campbell stood with me,

“Tar, now.”

Thick gloves on, pairs and trios of soldiers lifted the cumbersome cauldrons of hot rippling incendiary up to the edge and tipped them, bathing the beasts below in skin-melting liquid.

“Archers, light it.”

With a quick readjustment, the archers fired down into the tar, burning the Wendigo alive.  They howled like nothing I’d ever heard before, a mix between animalistic death screams and the torturous cackles of those driven insane by pain.

But I couldn’t concentrate on them, for even as they burned, a loud crash came from our far right as a group managed to break through the wall, sending stone flying.

Barriers and Coming Storms

As the last hour or so of daylight ended, it was tough to stay put.  Most of me was driven to defeat the Wendigo, to end this decades long war and set these people free.  But at the same time, I just wanted to walk off into the forests and find a safe little spot to live.

But with all the defense in place, I couldn’t just leave, and spotting my companions at the top of the wall told me that they couldn’t either.

We all should have been exhausted and worried beyond belief, but Sara’s manipulations of us had kept the townspeople energized and ready for the upcoming battle. While, for me (and probably everyone else), she was able to provide a sense of calm, an alertness that showed us that our focus was worthwhile and dutiful.

Still, I couldn’t go back into battle without having a little conversation first.

I found Rachel walking between some of the houses in the village, glancing around as if searching for something she knew she’d never find, possibly a way out.  She smiled a little as she saw me coming, but it didn’t erase the tension from her face.  For all her punk look and aggressive attitude on Earth, she was looking pretty scared.

“You know we’ll get through all this, right?” I asked her in a low voice, mostly sure of it myself.

“We’re different, not invulnerable,” she said.  “I still barely believe we’re even here.”

I stepped in closer to her.

“We’re super powered, on a different planet that might be in our universe, and about to fight monsters that shouldn’t exist.  Yeah, it’s pretty surreal.”  I wasn’t sure where I was headed with this, but staring at her had left me feeling a little lost.

“But we’re doing what’s right here, I know it.  And when it’s over we’ll be able to head home and do what we want with our lives.  I believed Drake and Andretti.  They’ll set us free.”  I definitely didn’t believe that.  “And if they don’t, we’ll bust out better than last time.  We can do this.”

I hugged her, surprising myself a little, feeling like I had barely known this girl until just recently, but so much had brought us all together.  She hugged me back, and I thought I heard her whimper.

“Can you share emotions in both directions?” I asked.

“A little.  Why?”

Standing there together, we held onto each other and I sent her every image of the future I could, full of hope and companionship, and something else.  And soon we were walking from between the houses together to meet our friends on the wall.

Trenches in the Waning Hours

We arrived at the center of the village and one of Samuel’s lieutenants offered to show us around, but I knew there was no time.  I set them to work.  I had the farmers and their capable family members start digging a massive trench around the village itself, while I had the blacksmiths gather up all their old, extra blades.

Their women and elders started collecting their tar and Campbell carried it all to the wall in massive cauldrons, either to repair the wall itself or to sit atop it.

Meanwhile, Rachel and Sara set about keeping everyone focused, alert, and hopeful about the upcoming battle.  With their combined mental/auric abilities they were able to keep everyone moving.

And I was in charge, running a whole village in another dimension to protect it from a terrible wave of warfare headed our way.

But the more progress we seemed to make, the closer it was to dusk.  Every once in a while I’d notice one of the townspeople glancing at the horizon, but a quick emotional tweak from Sara or Rachel would set them straight and they’d be digging again as if nothing had changed.

Because we had to finish in time if there was to be any hope of survival.  And the plan seemed risky at best.  It could fall apart completely if anything went wrong during the battle.

So I wasn’t too pleased when Sam approached me by the wall as I was overseeing the repairs and placement of hot tar cauldrons.

“How’s the trench coming, Sam?”

“Well, it should be ready just in time, Jack.  I wanted to thank you for all that you’ve done here, no matter how tomorrow goes,” he said, shuffling about.

“Yeah, well it’s our survival too.  And that’s not all you wanted to talk about.”

“I guess not.  I just…You should know that I lead the men because I’ve survived my fair share of fighting, but also because the Wendigo took my son a while back.  And I thought maybe I’d come up with a way to rescue him one day.”

“He’s trapped in the bunkers, isn’t he?”

“He must be.  No one has seen him for months.”

The plan would have to change.

Behind Crumbling Walls

They made it there fine and met with their quite dedicated and extensive staff who were hard at work sorting and counting.  And they did, in fact, find that their king was pocketing the court’s funds, after hours and hours of record checking.

But what they lost track of was the weather.  And soon they were all snowed in.  No one could reach them and it wasn’t long before they ran out of food.

After days turned into weeks, they realized that there was only one way they could survive the ordeal.  And they took it, half conspiring to eat the other, not realizing it would transform them into bloodthirsty abominations.

It took them almost no time at all to dig their way out and slowly pick away at the peaceful kingdom.  And it was long before anyone figured out how to kill them.  But once they had, days were spent hunting the Wendigo and herding them back into their bunkers and nights were for defending against their assaults.

Through one act they became monsters, beasts of pure hunger and rage.  And no one could stand against them.  Only the walls could hold them off, and even they looked cracked and worn away in spots.  Things could tip badly soon.

“Except, we’ve received a new batch of reinforcements,” said Sam with a somber grin as he smacked Campbell on the back.

“Well, we’ll have to hold them at the wall,” I said, trying to keep everyone focused on the immediacy of the problem.  “If we don’t, if they make it through, they’ll tear the village apart.”

“Our situation is dire, yes,” said one of Sam’s younger lieutenants named Bruce, “but our blacksmiths make just as many swords as door handles.  The old ones rust away, but are quickly replaced.  A Wendigo moves much slower without legs.”

The proficiency of their blacksmiths aside, I had an idea forming.

“You have extra blades on hand?  Lots of them?”

“You’ll be equipped with your share of weapons and armor soon enough,” said Sam.

“No, I have a better way to use them.  But it’ll take a lot of blades.”

Halt of Progress

The village was worse off than Sam’s description had at first led me to believe, and yet, it had its perks.

Hoc Allud.  A gray stone wall surrounded the small farming village and its surrounding fields a wall covered in pock marks where the Wendigo had collided with it and clawed at it.  And yet the village itself stood at the center of eight large fields with only a small fence around the homes and businesses.

I expected to find crops and sheep dotting the fields, but they were empty, as if everything had been trimmed away.

“Their cannibalistic, dark magic,” said Sam, noticing my gaze.

“Cannibalistic?” I asked, wondering if the potion we’d helped create was the explanation and hoping our involvement wouldn’t come up.

“I see they told you little of their true nature.”

“They greeted us as friends,” I said.  “We…thought we were helping them.”  I hoped he couldn’t see the guilt on my face.

“Well, no matter what you did, I’m sure you didn’t know what they are or how they’ve crippled us for the past half century.”

He explained how the Wendigo and his people were once of the same great nation, Hoc Alludess, with Hoc Allud as its capital.  It was a warlike nation at first, conquering all the surrounding countries until just Hoc Alludess remained.

But as the nation grew and ran out of enemies, they found themselves hoarding endless treasures with no one to trade them with and no one to lord over with them.  So they filled bunkers with their gold and crowns of fallen kings, slowly putting them to work on improving their country.

And although they had peace, their accountants believed their nation’s last king was embezzling.  And, dedicated as they were, the men and women trudged through a seemingly endless snowstorm to examine the bunkers in person, not knowing how long they’d be there.

Crumbling in the Sun

By the time the sun rose we were already limping through the forest as a group.  The leader of the warlike townspeople had introduced himself as Sam Rothchild and, although all we’d told them so far was that we’d come from beyond the desert, they accepted us and were happy to have our help.

There were few wounded, those of us still living only had small injuries.  And those we’d left behind were often maimed beyond recognition.  Sam explained that none of the bunker doors had opened in the last forty years of this fifty year war.  And now that things were starting to change, they weren’t prepared.

Not only were they ill-equipped for battle, but they had no time or means to transport their dead.  Instead, we had to leave their bodies behind.  And with what Sam told us of the wendigo creatures, nightfall would see them eating corpses; those of their own and their enemies.

But even if his people would be upset by being unable to bury their dead, Sam seemed troubled by something else.

“It’s unstoppable,” he muttered, as we tramped between the trees.  He stared off into the distance, already plotting out futures for all those living under his reign.

When the focus came back into his eyes, he turned to me.

“I’ll expect you and your friends to provide some support once we reach our village.”

“We’re happy to help, just tell us what you need,” I said.

“We’ll need a fortress impenetrable by even the most ravenous beast.  What we’ve got is a village with old walls and even older weapons.  But we only have hours to improve it.”

We kept trudging forward, but I was worried.  If they didn’t have battlements as impressive as the bunkers, then how were we going to survive the coming attacks when we’d barely lived through the first battle?

Fire and Savagery

Sara led her troops in strict formation, sending them in to swarm individual wendigo and set them aflame, holding an impenetrable line against the furious animals.  With the field burning, it had turned into a wave of chaos, but Sara was bringing order.

Her men were unquestioning and fearless.  I was hopeful.

But I turned, while in a wendigo’s consciousness, to pull another from mauling Campbell’s turned back.  And before I could help, Sara sent one of her men flying in front of its outstretched claws.  He fell.

I wanted to stop her, but she was keeping us all alive, even if she was killing the men on our side.

I spotted Granny Po among her people, her angry eyes glowing a deep orange where the others were yellow.  She bared her teeth in Sara’s direction and then let loose a piercing howl.  All the other wendigo turned to face her, letting no danger distract them from their leader.  Together, they charged back into their bunker and vanished.

Sara started to send the soldiers in after them, but a yell from their scarred leader held her up short.

“You’ll never find them in that endless catacomb,” he said.

I had a feeling she could use her abilities to find them anyway, but I wasn’t sure.  And we could use the respite too.

The field was a disaster.  And as Sara withdrew her influence from the men, they all collapsed from exhaustion, sitting around as if they hadn’t eaten in days.  In the distance I thought I could see the beginnings of a sunrise.  And we were entering a day surrounded by burning corpses.

A War on the Rise

We backed away from the bunker doorway.  I hoped that we would look different enough that the townspeople wouldn’t associate us with the monsters chasing us, but we weren’t so lucky.

They lifted their pitchforks and torches at us and held their ground.

Together, we huddled against the wall of the bunker to the right of the doorway.  At least there we weren’t immediately in front of the beasts’ line of sight.

“Leave them be,” said the largest and most scarred of the pitchfork holders.  “They’re the kids who came from the desert.”  Apparently they’d kept lookouts posted.  Though I couldn’t tell how they’d been able to see us in that absolute darkness we’d appeared in.  But that was the least of my concern.

“We’re here to help.  What are those things?”  Rachel said.

But before anyone could answer, they leapt from the bunker, right into the mob.  And I couldn’t help but think that our escape had meant their deaths.

“Hold your ground,” said the scarred man.  “Pin the Wendigo to the ground, then burn them.  Noose to pin their necks if you can.  Move!  Move!”

Wendigo.  The word sounded vaguely familiar, but the creatures I was thinking of were straight out of folklore.  Still, these things looked hungry for flesh like the cannibals-turned-monsters that came to mind.  And they were chowing down.

For each Wendigo pinned, at least three men were lost.  The tide was heading the wrong way.  So we leapt in too.

Campbell swept the beasts aside, matching their height and making up for their speed with his strength.  Soon he was dragging a tail of five Wendigo who’d bitten into his back and sides and held on with their jaws.  Rachel pitted Wendigo against spectral Wendigo once she realized they weren’t scared of much.  They swung at thin air long enough for men to get pitchforks in them, ropes around necks, and a torch to them.  I leapt from body to body, helping men dodge and sending Wendigo flailing into the weapons of men.

But most impressive was Sara.

She stood in the center of the crowd of men, a big ball of pink and green auric fire swirling around her, shouting orders.  And as she shouted, the men reacted without question, their eyes glowing pink and green.  She’d created a perfectly oiled unit of solders that brought to mind the legions of ancient Rome.  And after a while, I could have sworn she was hovering.

But we were too busy to ask questions.