Slaves of Dardekum: The Lightbringer, Book 1

by Jake Stone

  Atia’s blue eyes are burning with indignation. “I will?”

  “Yes,” he says, castigating her with a hard stare. She bows her head to his order, but it does nothing to calm the fire raging inside of her. When she steals a glance at me, she does so with such disdain, such resentment, that I can actually feel the hate coming off her in waves.

  “If what Zorel says is true,” Tulgas says, “he may be the key in defeating the darkness. And as such, we must protect him with our greatest weapons. Prepare your team, Atia, and make all the necessary arrangements. If this woman is still alive, this…”

  “Rachel,” Zorel corrects him.

  “Yes,” he says. “Her. If she is still alive, we will find her. This I can promise.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The beshai, in all his glory, has decided that I’m too valuable an asset to be released back into the corrupted city by myself; and therefore, has given me my own personal quarters on one of the upper levels of the palace.

  I love it. It’s the closest thing to comfort I’ve felt since I’ve gotten to this stinking planet. The room is nice and expansive, with a large bed and tall windows. Metal lamps hang from the ceiling, their tiny fires scenting the room with fruity incense.

  The coziness of it indulges my exhaustion, and it’s not long before I’m ripping off my shirt and slipping off my boots. It’s been a long day. And I can’t explain it, but just the fact that I’m getting a chance—a real chance—at finding Rachel, I feel like things are gonna be okay.

  Crawling onto the large bed in the middle of the room, I feel the welcome touch of soft sheets, my eyes shutting closed as sleep takes me.

  Rachel…

  The next morning, I’m awakened by a knock at my door. I sit up in a daze, coughing, shocked to find Eligor himself wandering into my room. He arches a brow at me in disgust, horrified that my bare skin has actually touched the linens from the palace laundry. He does his best to restrain his anger.

  “The beshai…requests your presence,” he bites out through cringed teeth. “I suggest that you don’t keep your benevolent benefactor waiting.”

  “Uh, yeah, hold on.” I rush to put on my shirt and dirty boots, running a hand through my messy hair as I try to make myself presentable. “Okay, let’s go.”

  I barely get to the top of the stairs when I notice Eligor glaring at me from the side. It’s a scrutinizing look that does little to hide his distaste for me.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing,” he says. “I’m just trying to figure out why the beshai has taken such an interest in someone like you.”

  “Someone like me?”

  “A homeless off-worlder who has nothing to offer.”

  A homeless off-worlder? Nothing to offer? He must not know about my power, I realize, my chest tightening in concern. Maybe the beshai wants to keep it a secret. But why? Shouldn’t the church and palace know?

  “I don’t know,” I say, feigning ignorance. “Maybe it’s because he’s a cool dude.”

  “A what?”

  “Ugh…perhaps, due to his selfless nature as a holy man, he’s decided to take me under his watch.”

  “As an apprentice?”

  “Something like that.”

  He eyes me carefully as we turn down a large hallway leading toward an exit. “Whatever the case, understand this: the beshai is a man of compassion, I, on the other hand, am not. I do not share in his desire to help the public with resources we do not have, or a belief that there is something greater waiting on the other side of death.”

  “You mean, you don’t believe in religion?”

  “Religion?” He snorts, his gaze darkening as a scowl touches his lips. “It’s nothing but a tool we use to keep the fearful in line. There’s no good in this world; never has been. All there is are masters and servants.”

  He comes to a halt as we reach the archway, seeming unwilling to cross over where a group of clergymen is standing.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask. “Why are we stopping?”

  “Through those doors, and into the hangar,” he says. “That’s where you’ll find them.” And with that, he marches away, leaving me to idle in confusion.

  As he disappears around the corner, I do as he says, finding myself in an expansive hangar filled with troops and vehicles.

  “You made it,” Zorel says sweetly as she walks out to greet me. Her hair is tied above her head, a long tail of blond hair flowing down her back and over her cape. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  “We?” I ask, turning to find a group of twenty Purifiers—a smattering of men and women, donned in silver armor with blue capes carrying weapons. They look like angels ready for battle. I guess the beshai lived up to his promise, huh?

  Looking around, I’m relieved when I find Petronelous standing amongst their ranks, the corner of her mouth perking up as she sees me. At her side, the purple-eyed beauty from the firing range, the one who never speaks, stares at me with unsettling suspicion.

  I catch her gaze, holding it as long as I can, until she finally looks away.

  “Here.” Atia shoves a pack of rolled-up clothes into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. In her other hand, she drops a pair of new black boots at my feet. “Get dressed. We can’t have you going out there like this.”

  “Like, what?” I ask, insulted.

  “Like a mess,” she answers. “Besides, these are the clothes every recruit receives after training.”

  “As a reward?”

  “As a requirement,” she answers. “Their reward is to not die. ”

  “Oh yeah, that’s right.”

  Hiding behind one of the military vehicles—a behemoth of a truck protected under thick layers of steel—I hurry to change. The clothes are nice and new, but completely different from the austere grey metal and long capes the Purifiers are wearing. I guess I’ll have to become a squire before I can become a knight. Oh well.

  Quickly, I change my ragged stinky shirt and dirty pants for a beige hoody with long sleeves and a pair of black parachute pants. The boots are hard, well made. They quickly form to my feet, as if designed to adjust to any size.

  Last but not least, I slip on a black vest that is reinforced with something hard in the thin lining. Tapping it with my knuckles, I hear the snap of composite material. Kevlar?

  When I’m done, I walk out from behind the truck to the flattery of whistles.

  “Not bad,” Zorel says with a grin. She slaps my ass, and my face is filled with blood, embarrassed that she’s done it in front of everyone.

  “I have to agree,” Petronelous says sternly. “The clothes suit you.”

  From the corner of my eye, I notice that a couple of the other women are checking me out. They give me a quick once-over, nodding as their gazes fall to my crotch.

  But not Atia.

  The stoic soldier ignores me for what appears to be a tablet pc of some kind. “According to the coordinates you and Zorel attained from that pimp, it should take us about half a day to reach the auction. Once we’re there, we’ll send in a team to locate Rachel.”

  “Will that be enough?” I ask, turning to look at the other Purifiers.

  “These are some of the finest soldiers on the planet, all trained, all deadly. Each one is worth twenty mercenaries. And because of you, we’re putting them in the line of fire for a single life. But to answer your question, yes. It will.”

  Guilt. That’s what I feel. My selfishness has put us all in danger and now we’re about to dive right into the hornet’s nest. If anyone dies, it’ll be my fault.

  But then I think of Rachel, imagining her hanging on one of those hooks, her clothes ripped from her body, her breasts being squeezed by dirty men, and I’m suddenly filled with so much anger, that I’m actually resentful that the beshai has only allowed a mere twenty lives for this cause.

  Shit.

  Atia orders her troops to fall in, and as they do, I notice one of the larger Purifiers—a muscled giant with an overha
nging brow—taking his position at the front. Easily the biggest guy I’ve ever seen, he looks like he eats trucks for breakfast.

  We surround Atia in a half circle of silence. Only the wind of the desert whistling at the mouth of the hangar dares to interrupt her. “Okay, listen up!” she says. “We’ve got a long mission ahead of us. There’s no room to screw up. So, pay attention.”

  Removing a metal disc from her belt, she holds it out before us, and a holographic image of our proposed journey through the desert flickers to life.

  I watch as a thick red line appears in three-dimensional form, leading me through a map of desolate desert that’s rife with dunes and mountain ranges. The images are photorealistic. I can almost feel the grate of sand and rock hovering before me. The red line leads over a stretch of hills to a collection of vehicles and tents, with hundreds of figures clad in dark clothing.

  From far away, it looks like a stadium before a football game. And that’s when I realize—that’s it. That’s where we’re going.

  “The journey will take us about half a day,” Atia says. “Team Green.” She looks over at a group of three men and two women. “You’ll take point. Any sign of mutant activity and you have authority to go weapons free. Understood?”

  They nod.

  “Team Blue, you’ll be behind them, lending them support, while Team Red will be behind us, guarding our rear. Any questions?”

  The soldiers remain quiet, their faces as hard as steel.

  “Good,” Atia says. “Once we’re there, we’ll run regular protocol. If everything looks acceptable, Vitor…” Atia nods at the pale giant. “And his team will infiltrate the auction, where they’ll quickly locate the target and smuggle her out. Once they’ve escaped, Chun Hei will cover their retreat.” She points at the purple-eyed beauty, who quickly lifts her chin in reply. “Nobody moves until I give the signal, understood?”

  Silently, they nod.

  “Okay,” she says. “Fall out and let's get this done.”

  I watch, lost as groups of soldiers splinter off and begin loading into vehicles. Their movement is swift, precise. They’ve done this before, perhaps thousands of times. I, on the other hand, have absolutely no idea what’s going on.

  “Let’s go, sexy,” Zorel says, patting me on my ass and motioning for me to follow.

  “Could you please stop doing that?” I ask. “That’s like the twentieth time!”

  We load into the back of one of the armored behemoths, and I take a seat against the wall next to Zorel, where we’re opposite Petronelous and Chun Hei who’s looking at me in her usual suspicious way. I attempt a smile, nervous as I try to break the wall between us. But she looks away again, seeming bitter at my attempt to be friendly. I sigh.

  The vehicle shudders as it jerks into gear and I’m suddenly thrown into Zorel’s lap. The beautiful blond glances down at me and smiles. “You just couldn’t wait, could you?”

  “Sorry,” I say, regaining myself. “I’m just not used to this.”

  “You’ll be fine,” she whispers with a wink.

  “You think?”

  “Not really.” She turns away to face Petronelous who’s sitting with her back straight, looking every bit the disciplined soldier she is. “The Frontier is filled with every type of monster imaginable. The chances of finding Rachel and getting her back safely is highly unlikely, even for trained soldiers. And the fact that there’s so many of us it’s almost a guarantee that we’ll be spotted. The most we can probably hope for is a quick death.”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  I lie back against the metal wall behind me, recoiling into my thoughts, as the rugged terrain shakes the vehicle. Zorel’s messing with me, obviously, but there’s truth to her words. I’ve been to the Frontier, I’ve seen what scum festers on its landscape, I’ve seen those mutant bastards with metal teeth and augmented eyes. There’s no way we’re getting through this unscathed. My only hope is that we can save Rachel without losing anyone in the process.

  We pass the time in our own way, Petronelous sharpening her swords, Chun Hei polishing her sniper rifle. Only Zorel speaks to me as she plays with the blue light dancing in her hands, explaining to me all the different ways mutants like to marinate human meat. “It’s actually not that bad if you think about it,” she says. “With enough spices, you can make anything taste good.”

  We stir as we hear gunfire outside. It’s faint, barely audible through the thick metal walls of the transport, but distinctly there.

  Both Petronelous and Zorel exchange a glance, while Chun Hei says nothing, appearing unfazed by the dangerous sound.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  “Mutants,” Zorel says, the electricity instantly disappearing from her fingers. She angles her head to the side, her eyes closing slightly, as she concentrates on listening.

  The sound begins to build, and soon, the gunfire erupts into an explosion that shakes the transport and us along with it. The vehicle suddenly comes to a halt and I’m slammed into the wall of the cockpit, where my head bangs hard against the wall. Within seconds, the back of the vehicle springs open and I see Atia in the afternoon light.

  “They’ve blocked the path,” she says, her hair flailing in the wind. “Zorel, Petronelous, with me. Chun Hei…” Atia points to the roof. “Take your position and kill anything that moves.”

  Chun Hei nods.

  “What about me?” I ask, already reaching for my pulser.

  “Stay here,” Atia says.

  “But I can help.” I look to Petronelous for validation, but all she can do is shoot me a look of pity.

  “Yes, you can,” Atia says. “By staying alive.”

  The three of them hop down from the back and race into the sunlight as they rush to meet the enemy. Only Zorel stops to look back as she begins to build a ball of electricity in her hands. “Don’t let them catch you with your pants down,” she says.

  “What?”

  She shoots the ball of electricity at the door and slams it shut, leaving me in the back of the transport, alone. Through the walls of the vehicle, I start to hear the frightening sounds of battle. Gunfire. Explosions. Screaming. There’s an erratic pattern to the destruction, the clearest form of chaos.

  Several times I press a hand to the heated metal, waiting for it to stop, only to hear it begin anew. My heart is beating in my ears, and I start to tremble. Yet, as scared as I am, I’m more anxious to get out there and help than I am about saving my own life.

  People are dying outside. And it’s because of me. And I’m in here, doing nothing. Before long, the anxiety builds into panic, and I’m rushing to open the door with my pulser firmly in hand.

  The outside is a rush of sunlight and violence, a barrage of gunfire and screams that shake me to my very core. Whatever filter I had in my metal box, whatever barrier I had only moments ago, is now gone, leaving me completely unprotected to the frightening savagery surrounding me.

  To my right, I spot Petronelous holding off a pair of mutants with both of her swords. Clad in strange armor, their faces warped by radiation, the monsters come at her from weird angles, slashing at her with clawed hands and feet that would probably tear through steel. But they do nothing against her master swordsmanship.

  With a quick spin, the beautiful redhead slices through the monsters with ease, slashing one by the throat, the other through the crotch. The mutants let out terrible screams as they fall to their deaths.

  “Get down!” Petronelous screams as she throws one of her blades at me.

  I duck under the flying projectile, barely able to escape its sharpened blade as it flies past me and into the head of a mutant who’s standing right behind me.

  The monstrous figure—a bald and diseased shell with jagged teeth—lets out a low moan as it drops to its knees, its eyes rolling back into its head as it dies slowly.

  I glance back at Petronelous. She shakes her head at me in disappointment, and I quickly mouth the
word, “sorry,” to her in reply.

  More mutants are coming. They flood over the hills in frightening waves, moaning and yelling and speaking in strange tongues as they descend upon the cavalcade. Their numbers seem endless.

  Yet, as dangerous as they are, the Purifiers are even more so. Soldiers take up defensive positions, kneeling by vehicles, firing into the ranks of the attacking monsters. Heads explode in a shower of green blood, their bodies tearing apart against the onslaught of plasma bolts. The violence is gruesome but effective.

  I hurry to add to it, taking a knee and aiming my pulser into the horde. But as I press the trigger, I feel the tiny device unwilling to budge. Something is jammed. Again? What the fuck is wrong with this thing? I spot a charging mutant only yards away. Oh shit!

  It drops to its hands, charging at me on all fours like a rabid dog, its eyes glowing a strange green as it begins to slobber revoltingly. Faster than I can blink, it leaps out at me from far away, its body hovering in the air as it stretches its claws out to reach me. With all the strength I can muster, I yank back the chamber, aim my gun, and pull the trigger, unloading into the belly of the rotting creature.

  Its belly explodes in mid-air, showering me with a flood of toxic blood and pieces of flesh that warm my face to the touch. The scent is rotten, putrid. And I do everything I can not to vomit.

  “To the right!” someone yells.

  I look back and spot one of the mutants racing toward the back of our transport. It climbs the doors and onto the roof where Chun Hei is lying on her belly, aiming her sniper rifle at the enemy. It’s going to sneak up on her!

  As fast as I can, I rise to my feet, wiping the mutant’s filth from my eyes. It burns like acid, blurring my vision, causing me to stumble in my steps as I hurry.

  When I get to the back of the transport, I find the mutant already on the roof. It’s creeping like a careful spider toward Chun Hei, its arms spread out wide, its head low and steady.

  This is a crafty one, I realize, doing my best to remain quiet as I tug myself up behind him. But it’s difficult. The burning sensation is getting worse and every time I remove my hand from my eyes, the pain increases.