by Tom Hunter
A small box appeared in Alexia’s hand. Her battle drone was at the ready and she set it to detonate. Then aimed it at one of the Kisgar surrounding Thomas and did the same again with two more. One toward Pediah and Robbie. The other toward Abby. BOOM! POP! BOOM! Each went off in staggered time, enough to distract the Kisgar for Thomas Knight and his team to get untangled.
Mochni, his mother, and small pockets of Woidnuk wrapped their large arms around the Kisgar and hung from their necks. Others stood in front of pierced thick skin with the sharp points of their spears. They had begun to herd the Kisgar into a tighter group, so they could lead them back to their holding area.
Noah looked around and spotted an opening. Another room! Gotta be Noah’s safe space, he thought and was just motioning for the others to follow when a Kisgar smashed through the land bridge in front of him.
“Look out!” cried Alexia.
“Whoa!” he shouted motioning for the others to stop. As they did so, the section of the bridge Thomas had been running across swayed, but the piece attached to land crumbled. “Great, this thing’s hinged only one side now,” Thomas muttered. He looked back. The team was out of reach. “Part of this thing is still connected. I have to move forward,” he called to his team. “You guys double back and see if you can’t find another way around.”
They hadn’t made it onto the bridge yet. He was glad of that as he looked down into never-ending darkness.
Without a word, Robbie and Pediah, turned toward Mochni and the Woidnuk to help them in their fight against the Kisgar. “It looks they’ve got some of them under control,” Robbie whispered. “Let’s see if we can help bring the others to heel.” Pediah nodded and as a young Kisgar burst in front of them, Robbie swung up on its back while Pediah held it at bay with a spear he’d picked up laying nearby. Mochni looked over his shoulder, saw them, and nodded.
Alexia started to follow, then turned back toward Thomas, “I’m not leaving you!” she called through the curve of her hands wrapped around her mouth. She looked back and saw Abby ducking and dodging the Kisgar as Robbie and Pediah fought them away from her. “At least, not without a little assist,” she cried and threw him one of her drones. It slid across the bridge scuttling pebbles and sand came to a stope at Thomas Knight’s feet. He caught it up and smiled briefly. “Thanks. Now, go!” he pointed for her to follow the others. She nodded once and turned with one of her drones following close behind.
Thomas turned to follow the bridge back to its cliff’s edge and soon spotted what at first looked like an alcove of some kind. He peered inside and realized with a start this was more than a room. Cables hung suspended from tables and protruded from walls. Monitors black and dusty were piled in one corner. But what surprised Thomas most was the heady scent of fresh coffee and something else…perfume?
Someone had lived here. Was living here, he corrected himself. As his eyes roved the space looking for clues to its occupants, Noah appeared in his line of sight. Raised eyebrows met narrow eyes in silent standoff.
Thirty-Four
Noah was first to break away and look down. Thomas’s arm was crooked at the elbow and in his grip a small caliber pistol. It seemed an even darker black, muted and dull, against Noah’s gleaming silver derringer.
“A derringer? Really?” Thomas mocked, his mouth twisting in disbelief. He thought for sure with Noah’s connections he’d prefer something more like a Walther PK. He’d seen some of the hardware Ramon preferred and had expected something similar, but the tiny pistol Noah held seemed more like something Ms. Welker would carry. Not Noah.
Noah let it slide with a shrug. “It hides easy. Very portable.” His eyes slid toward his other hand and Thomas followed his gaze. Ecknom’s Folly was at Noah’s side and he rat-tat-tatted the stretched animal skin in a slow, low keening rhythm. A percussive trance kept Thomas Knight’s gaze glued to the instrument.
Alexia’s drone buzzed nearby breaking his attention from the rhythmic thumping. BA BUM. PA RUM. BUM PA RUM BA. BUM PA RUM BA.
“Stand down, Noah,” Thomas ordered. “Game over.” He waved with his gun for Noah to drop his. Noah simply tilted his head to one side as if considering the order and weighing his options. Thomas drew his brows together and pinched his lips tight. Then, “Listen to me, Noah,” he said in a low voice. “I am ordering you to drop your weapon and surrender.”
“If I don’t?”
“Then, I’ll shoot.”
“What’s stopping you, then? It’s not like you haven’t had ample time before now to stop me.” Noah studied Thomas who shook his head.
“I don’t work that way. I’m not like you.”
“Oh really?” Noah mocked. “That’s not what you just said.”
Thomas remained silent, so Noah continued. “Since we’re having a little chat instead of actually taking any action, here’s where I’m at. I will not live as a pauper nor will I rot my life away in jail. So, quite simply it seems, your two options are to either go ahead and shoot me or let me go.”
With a shrug, Thomas raised his gun to fire. “Have it your way, then,” he sighed. As he did so, Ms. Welker leapt from the shadows, deflecting the shot. She dug her nails down one arm. His shots were wild. Once grazed the drone console causing it to ratchet out of control and in her grip, Thomas let go of his grip on the gun and it sailed across the floor.
Ms. Welker wrapped her arms around Thomas pinning his arms to his side. Next, she bent her legs and dug the heels of her boots into his side. Thomas twisted and arched to try to slip from her grasp, but it made her dig in tighter. He reached up with his free hand and strained to twist her arms from his bucking against her weight. All the while Noah watched with a satisfied smirk.
“Ah, the fresh smell of winning,” Noah gloated with a glint in his eye. “Though it’s starting to get old. I mean, I always win.” He shook his head. “My dear nemesis, you really should find more reliable people.” Thomas narrowed his eyes and pressed his lips together. He tried to twist his head to see what had become of his team. Noah drew a cloth from his pocket and began to polish his gun slowly drawing Thomas Knight’s gaze back to their task at hand.
As he rubbed, Noah added, “Honestly, I can’t believe you even try anymore. I mean, that would have saved a lot of lives,” he paused. Then, “Including young Howard and maybe even Mr. Hogan and his lovely daughter. As I understand it, the Hogan duo were never found, were they?”
Pure adrenaline drove Thomas forward at the thought Noah had had anything to do with the Hogan disappearance and presumed dead label in shadow over the Hogan household.
“As far as I can see, fighting me has been your biggest mistake and yet you insist on not learning from this most erroneous of errors,” Noah finished as he leveled the polished weapon at his chest.
Thomas strained to push off from Ms. Welker’s grasp and slid slightly as she renewed her grip. He needed to get closer to the gun and began to move slowly forward dragging Ms. Welker with him. When she realized his objective, she reached out a long leg encased in her knee-high boots kicked the gun away. It skidded and slid out of the entrance, across a narrow, pebbly strip of land bridge, teetered, and fell out of anyone’s grasp into the abyss below. His knees buckled as he watched his single weapon disappear and gasped as Ms. Welker’s arm moved to his neck. As easily as breathing, she’d maneuvered her grip into an arm bar, schoolboy choke hold, and guided the slowly crumpling Thomas Knight to the ground.
The last thing he saw before his world went black was Noah’s face and shiny pistol pointed at him. The last thing he heard was Noah’s voice. “Well, I’m not all bad,” he cooed. “I will show you some small mercy. Because, after all, it is thanks to you and your finds that I’ve been able to remain in the life I’d become accustomed to. You’ve made me quite wealthy over the years. It’s the least I can do to let you pass from this life to the next in peaceful — ”
Noah’s final word was ripped from him as Thomas opened one eye and found that the drone console was just
an arm’s length away. He stretched until his fingers reached the controls and jammed a finger against a black button to detonate. As Ms. Welker and Noah dove from him an effort to scramble to safety, Thomas rolled to his side and shut his eyes bracing himself for impact.
The explosion rocked the small space. Ms. Welker and Noah’s screams added to the cacophony. But it was the old unstable rumbling which made Thomas Knight’s eyes spring open.
I’m alive! Then, I’m flying! Pervaded his mind in a running loop of confusion. And in a startling moment of clarity and lucidity, he realized he was sailing into a cavernous depth. The earth beneath him had been unstable at best and in the explosion had given way. He closed his eyes and surrendered to the fall.
Thirty-Five
There was an intense ringing in his ears and his body ached. Thomas Knight felt as if he’d drug a truck a few hundred yards with his bare hands. Everything hurt, including his teeth. His eyelids fought him as he strained to open his eyes. If he could have moved, he imagined his hands would have been flying over his body as his mind worked out how he wasn’t dead.
A vague collection of memories danced across his mind. Two guns. One dark. One light. But, reversed. Good was evil. Evil was good. Something coiled around his arms and an ache in his side. No, not some…thing. Some…one. Shouts. Battles. Drones. Alexia’s drone. Alexia. As he came to, he lifted his hands from the ground. They felt like cement blocks at the end of his arms. He felt his body for signs of broken bones. He drew a ragged breath. “Okay, ribs are likely cracked,” he muttered, his mouth thick with cotton. He need water. He was dangerously dehydrated. Thomas tried to swallow without success, but as he became accustomed to his whereabouts and his body’s limitations, he struggled to sit up. Another ragged breath as he rolled onto his side to use his arm and elbow for leverage. He wasn’t strong enough yet and he rolled onto his back.
He blinked. “Where am I?” As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw from the curvature overhead and the long strip of land jutting from its mouth like a tongue, he was in a cavern. If his body hadn’t hurt so badly, he might have laughed. “I fell from one land bridge to the next,” he said with a hollow laugh. “Guess Noah was right after all…oof!”
Someone had jabbed a toe into his side. He lolled his head to the other side to see Noah standing over him. The fool still had hold of the drum. Hmmm? Mused Thomas. He was holding the drum like a child might hold a prized toy. Noah held it white-knuckled close to his chest.
There was something else about Noah’s face, but still dizzy from his fall, Thomas couldn’t lay his finger on it. “Oof! Hey, watch it!” Thomas complained as another sharp kick made contact with his quite possibly already cracked ribs. Then, “Are you crying?” Thomas asked in disbelief. This was no man. This was a child in a man’s body.
Noah’s faced burned with fury. “You’ve ruined everything! This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. Now, I’ll never – “he paused mid-sentence, narrowed his eyes at Thomas, and permitted himself a sardonic smile. “Well,” he began in a light voice. KICK! “No sign of Ms. Welker. Pity. She was so good at killing,” Noah mocked. KICK! “
At least, I’ll enjoy the satisfaction of killing you myself. Father always said…” he put his finger to his lips, thinking, “Or was that grandfather?” Noah shook his head. KICK! “Whatever. The point is ‘if you want something done right, you must do it yourself,’” he quoted. Noah raised his foot to kick once more, but in a flash, Thomas Knight’s hand shot out wrapped itself around Noah’s foot. He bent the encased toes back with his thumb on Noah’s instep until Noah slammed to the ground. Thomas gasped for breath still reeling from the choke hold, the fall, and lack of water. They’d brought water, he remembered. He just hadn’t drunk any. Idle thoughts passed through his mind as Noah reared back scrabbling at the hard surface with one foot and scratching at the air to stop his fall.
Noah fell with a thud next to Thomas and from the ground, the two men grappled. Wrestling and writhing, Noah struggled to hold Thomas down as he threw punch after punch at his face, his chest, and suspecting the fall had cracked his ribs, Noah took extra pleasure in twisting his fingers up under his rib cage as Thomas fought for air. Though Noah sat astride his legs, pinning him to the ground, Thomas used his hands to both ward off the blows and get in a few of his own. With herculean effort, he raised his right knee and met its purchase as Noah’s scream registered on the Richter scale. As Noah keeled back from the pain, Thomas gripped him at his arm upper arms and used him for leverage to sit up. Still leeched on to Noah, the two rolled until Thomas was on top. He let his fists fly. All Thomas’s stresses, sadness, anger, and frustration poured into his punches until Noah’s face bled and darkened from dried blood. Cuts at his eyes and a blood-stained shadow of a mustache gave Noah an almost demonic look as his wild eyes searched Thomas’s face.
Noah had stopped struggling and felt limp under his weight. Thomas sat back on his haunches to gauge his handiwork. “Mercy,” gasped Noah, his lips swollen, welts at his eyes and on his cheekbones turned a bluish-purple.
Thomas looked down quizzically. “You have got to be kidding,” he crowed.
“Surrender. I will. Mercy,” Noah croaked his throat thick with dust and blood.
“I don’t think so, you, evil little troll,” Thomas looked down at the man and saw the surprise reflected in Noah’s eyes. He was devoid of sympathy and he meant the man to suffer as he and his friends had. “Why the f –“ Thomas shook his head and began again. Noah had taken his time planning to kill him just a few moments before, who was he to not offer his nemesis the same courtesy. “You have put millions of lives at risk. Your own, included, I might add as well as that of Ms. Welker, Ramon, and his minions. Would any of them grant you mercy? I don’t think so. Would you grant any one of them mercy? Again, I suspect the answer would be ‘no’.” Thomas was quiet as he let his words sink in, then, “Using Ecknom’s Folly to threaten the innocent. It was his folly and now it’s yours. Death will be your only reward in this life, my friend,” he finished with a sneer.
“My god, man. You talk too much!” exclaimed Noah as he snapped a stalagmite and thrust it at Thomas who caught it neatly.
“I talk so much, so I can keep an eye you. It is a ploy. Nothing more. Nothing less,” revealed Thomas as he deftly baton-twirled the stalagmite and stabbed Noah.
“Ki -. Drum…Death,” Noah gurgled as blood bubbled at the corner his mouth and pooled around the natural weapon. Thomas shot a glance to where Noah had let go of the drum. It had rolled away from them, but hadn’t rolled off the edge and down the cliff’s face. Thomas’s eyes widened in surprise as he Noah struggled to reach the drum and utter one last beat to rouse the Kisgar.
“I don’t think so,” Thomas reached out a leg to push it over the edge and jumped as a single gunshot rang out in the cavernous chamber. The drum exploded from the blast. He whirled to see who had pulled the trigger and ducked his head in disbelief as the disheveled form of Ms. Welker appeared.
She raised the gun to her eyes as if seeing it for the first time and studied the smoke curling from its small barrel. She smiled, “I always wanted to say I held the smoking gun.” Ms. Welker laughed hollowly and gestured at the tattered drum. “And that damn thing has been the bane of ALL our existences. I think its high time we simply put it AND us out misery.” She shrugged and laughed again. A maniacal shadow danced across her features and she leveled both the gun and her gaze first at Thomas, “I could have shot you.” She turned to Noah, “Or you.” Then, pointing the gun once more toward the drum. “But, instead, I shot that THING. A priceless relic now worthless.” She smiled sweetly at Noah. “Now, that is what you deserve, Noah Ashbridge.”
Thomas and Noah stared at Ms. Welker as she spoke. When she’d finished her confession of a sort, it was Thomas who asked first, “Okay…but I thought you were on his side.” He jerked a thumb at Noah’s bloodied form. “Didn’t you want to live the life la vida loca, too?” Thomas asked, genuinely curious. �
��I mean, you killed people for him, so…” he shrugged. “I’m a little confused.”
Noah licked his lips straining to find his voice. “Why?” he asked in a strangled gasp.
She rolled her eyes. “Good lord, man. Don’t you listen!” she cried. “I just told you –“ she paused, narrowed her eyes to study Noah closely. “No. You’re right. There’s a better reason why.” Ms. Welker glance sidelong at Thomas Knight before leaning close to Noah. “You damn Ashbridges,” she breathed. “One after the other, I fell in love with you. You were the real deal. Or so I thought. You wanted to rule the world and I was right there with you. But you’re desire for wealth was so strong you would have ruled a world with no people in it. What’s the point?” She raised shakily to her feet and walked toward the cliff’s edge.
Thomas was shaken as he realized her plan. This wasn’t right. He watched as pebbles tumbled over the edge, as her foot slid. “Ms. Welker! No!” Thomas shouted his arm outstretched.
As one toe slipped over the ledge, she remarked over her shoulder, “I’ll see you in hell, Noah.” And threw herself into the darkness below. The silence was deafening and Thomas mouth was agape as he realized Ms. Welker wasn’t screaming and Noah had said nothing. Thomas furrowed brows drew tighter as he watched Noah’s face. The man was pouting.
“Geezus, Noah,” Thomas whispered shaking his head at the utter disregard for human life. “You did love someone once. Didn’t you?” Thomas made a retching sound, then cast his gaze toward the destroyed drum. “And good riddance,” he sighed as he kicked the remains over the edge.
Anger fueled Noah as he found his voice. “You can’t let…her…get away…with…it!” rasped Noah. “The drum…is…has…power.”
“Correction. The drum had power. Now, it is…WAS… bits of animal hide, wood, and leather cord. Nothing more. Nothing less,” retorted without turning around. “Now die quietly, like a good villain,” Thomas advised him, a snarky edge to his voice.
