Children of the Spear (Novella): Origin

by Gervais, Rhett

  “We have to find a way to get her down here,” said Bobby. “She's too far out of my range for me to do anything.”

  “You’re not saying you expect me to go up there and get her, are you?”

  “Well, you’re the one who can fly, if you're fast enough—”

  Carter raised a hand to stop him, his jaw hanging open. “I’m not sure if you’re crazy for asking, or if I’m crazy for actually thinking about it.”

  Staring out at the maelstrom, Bobby shook his head. “It's not like that. I’d go first, as a distraction. Once she's focused on me, you come at her from the other direction. Get her onto the ground, and I can take care of the rest.”

  Carter’s brows drew together as he considered what Bobby was saying. “How do you know she can’t kill us both at once. Look out there! at what she can do. It’d be like stepping on two ants at the same time for her.”

  “I know her,” said Bobby. “She’ll aim for me. I doubt she’ll even notice you, not until it's too late anyway.” Before Carter could answer, the center of the bridge exploded with a deafening thunderclap, throwing both onto their stomachs, bits of stone shrapnel burrowing into their skin. Bobby covered his mouth and nose with the sleeve of his coat, struggling to breathe the ionized dust. Both men stared at one another, a knowing look passing between them.

  Wiping the dirt and grit from his eyes, Carter bounded to his feet, giving Bobby one last look. “I guess I don’t have a choice,” he said, lifting off the ground, a subtle orange glow surrounding him. “If I don’t see you on the other side of this, I just wanna say thanks. It's been a hell of a ride!”

  “Me too,” said Bobby swallowing hard, not knowing what else to say. “On three.” Bobby counted down, shouting to be heard over the screaming wind and crashing thunder, his heart beating a mile a minute. Bowing his head, he broke out from under the bridge, pumping his legs as fast as they would take him, randomly dodging and weaving in hopes of not being fried to a crisp. He headed for the trees for what little cover they could offer, praying Carter could at least get her close enough for him to talk some sense into her. Running, he was showered with sprays of frozen mud, tossed around by blasts of lightning falling too close for comfort all around him, his ears ringing.

  Bobby had just hit the tree line when the trunk of a massive oak in front of him violently burst into a thousand pieces, the shockwave close enough to stagger him. He had just enough time to dodge to his side, rolling on the frozen ground just as the tree fell inches from his head, thick branches snapping like twigs in the late winter cold. He found himself pinned under a canopy of oak stronger than a steel cage. Having no time, he gripped a portion of the trunk, expecting Elizabeth to strike him down at any moment. Fear gave him strength, and with a roar he lifted the heavy wood, holding it in front of him like a shield while streaks of jagged lightning kissed the earth all around him, his makeshift shield shattering in his hands and sending him through the air once again. Bobby found himself a few feet away on his back staring in awe at the swirling maelstrom above, with no memory of how he got there.

  Dusting himself off, Bobby staggered to his feet scanning the sky for Carter. Seeing only Elizabeth at the center of the darkening thunderheads, brilliant flashes of white light behind her, he imagined his friend had done the smart thing and saved himself—or worse—she had already killed him. Bobby hoped for the former. The pilot was a good man and deserved better than the mess Bobby had gotten him into. Wiping the dirt from his face he gave Elizabeth a salute before stretching his arms wide, calling her out, accepting the end, knowing he deserved whatever she chose to do to him.

  From this distance he couldn’t see her face, but he imagined that perhaps there was a trace of sadness in what she had to do, tears in her eyes as she looked down on him. It was a good lie. It would make dying easier. She raised a hand and Bobby saw the storm respond to her like a living thing, the flashes behind her more intense, the swirling thunderclouds an expression of her rage. When Bobby saw the orange streak slam into her from above, he flinched, his eyes going wide.

  Carter hadn’t abandoned him. Carter was alive. He was driving her to the ground, so there was a chance to stop this here and now.

  Chapter 21: Behind Closed Doors

  2061

  “All of you have been given the opportunity to be more than the sum of your small lives, to break through the limitations that you have set upon yourselves. If you wish to be great, you must be the master of your fears, of the unknown, and finally yourself. I can teach you, give you the framework, the tools, but only you can prepare yourself to rise above.” Bobby had never met anyone quite like Master Sergeant Cook. Nothing about him looked remarkable. The marine wasn’t tall or muscular, having a medium build with dull brown hair and unremarkable pale features. But he had a presence unlike anything he had seen before, and when he looked at you with his hazel-brown eyes, it was like he was looking into your soul.

  “Before you can accomplish anything in life you must learn control: control, I will teach you. A lack of discipline is the greatest weakness anyone can have. As of today you will train under me; follow my orders without question. If you do so, I give you my word. You will be unstoppable.”

  Looking around the gymnasium, with its massive weight machines and exercise equipment, weapons of all kinds hanging off the walls, Bobby could almost believe him.

  “Aren't we supposed to have superpowers an' shit? Why the hell would we need any of this crap?”

  Michael, Elizabeth, and he had followed Lieutenant Young’s instructions and shown up for training this morning, and to their surprise found Andrew waiting for them along with another boy, Liam. The look of shock on their faces matching their own. Andrew and Liam had come out of the tubes apparently not long after Bobby, but had been kept on a separate ward for reasons the reverends and medical staff had not bothered to mention

  Bobby turned, not surprised to see a smirk on Andrew’s handsome face, his arms crossed.

  Master Sergeant Cook raised an eyebrow, frowning at Andrew. “By now you should be much stronger than me. We estimate two or three times stronger than the average human, so show me what you can do with that strength. If you can put me on my back, you can be excused from the training. Deal?” Andrew’s smirk turned into a smile as the rest of them backed away from the pair, making space.

  Andrew shot them a look, a twinkle in his eye. “Gimme a sec. This should be easy. Already I feel—” Before he could ready himself the marine slammed the heel of his boot into Andrew’s chest, knocking the wind out of him and sending him tumbling to the ground.

  “Hey! Fuck you, man. I wasn’t ready,” said Andrew, cautiously getting to his feet, his face red.

  “Your enemy won’t wait until you're ready, so you must be vigilant at all times,” said the Master Sergeant, waving him on.

  With a yell the blond man surged ahead, trying to bowl the other man down. Without seeming to move, the marine swiftly twisted aside and locked Andrew’s arm behind his back, driving him to the ground and pinning it with his legs. Despite Andrew’s greater strength he was trapped in place, his face a mask of pain. The struggle only lasted for a second before Andrew yielded, tapping out with his other hand.

  Master Sergeant Cook quickly spun to his feet, adjusting his green service uniform and locking his arms in front of him. Andrew was slower to rise, his face beet red as he massaged his shoulder. With a sigh he joined the rest of them, muttering under his breath.

  “You will, in a very short time, be stronger and faster than me, and what I did to you won’t be possible. But if there is one lesson you can take away from today, never underestimate anyone,” he said nodding to all of them. “You're not invincible. Under the right circumstances, with the right weapons, you can be killed, or made to look the fool,” he finished, giving Andrew a tight-lipped smile.

  They began training in earnest. Master Sergeant Cook pushed them to the limits of their strength with the heavy-duty weight machines. He was a master of
more martial disciplines than they could count, all of which he taught with great skill. They spent every waking moment in the gymnasium or a classroom learning some of the core values of the marines. The more time Bobby spent with the man he realized how much of his life was wasted, that he possessed almost no discipline, and constantly blamed others for his failures. He learned to do more with less, adapt and overcome life's challenges, but most of all he learned to be prepared for anything, taking the extra time to do things right. Often, they were joined by some of the base personnel. To his surprise a good many of the reverends and medical staff trained with him too, allowing them to at least get to know their keepers. To his shock even Lieutenant Young, often accompanied by his sweet boy, Ariel, would spend at least one day a week puffing and wheezing, the fat man’s face beet red from the effort.

  While his father trained, Ariel would watch him, Michael, Elizabeth, and the others. It was clear the boy idolized them. With approval from Master Sergeant Cook they began training him on days his father couldn’t or wouldn’t come to the gym, much to the boy’s pleasure.

  Bobby fell into a comfortable routine of strength building and learning every kind of martial combat he could. Despite it all, he felt like something was off, the others seemed to progress more quickly. When they started expressing powers before him, he began to worry about how far behind he was.

  “Master Sergeant, you said when we started, there were weapons that could hurt us,” began Bobby one afternoon after Andrew had harshly demonstrated how strong he had become, pinning Bobby to the floor and refusing to let him up, laughing all the while.

  “You can’t fight him on his level. You gotta be smarter than him,” said the master sergeant giving him a sympathetic look. “Come with me. I need you to see something.” Motioning for him to follow, they exited the gymnasium and traveled the length of a dusty unused corridor to a part of the old base Bobby had never been, at last finding themselves standing in front of a heavy steel door stained with rust. Master Sergeant Cook entered a code on the pad next to the door, and it swung open, its hinges screaming in protest from long periods of disuse. Bobby entered as the lights flicked on, revealing corridors of open-faced lockers holding weapons of all kinds. From small arms like a 9mm to M4 assault rifles; it was all there, mostly covered in dust from years of sitting idle. Stopping in the middle of an aisle Bobby reached out for one of the rifles, admiring its sleek, matte black finish and machined surfaces.

  “Not those,” said Cook, his voice loud in the narrow spaces of the armory. “In time your skin will be so dense most small and medium arms won’t do more than tickle.” Bobby moved deeper past the gun racks to a wall filled with bladed weapons of all kinds, from smaller fare like jagged-edged knives, to massive pole arms, taller than he was and many more in between, the whole area looking like a shrine to weapons from days gone by. “While they may look archaic, most of these weapons were designed and made only a few years ago. They have monofilament edges, made to cut through ceramic body armor that the Russians and their allies began deploying about a decade ago. Their use has mostly fallen out of fashion with the use of modern directed energy weapons, but I have a soft spot for removing a man’s limbs with a good clean cut.”

  A smile creeped across Bobby’s face as he fingered a wicked-looking combat knife, its silver blade drawing in and reflecting what little light there was in the room. “This looks pretty cool,” said Bobby, picking it up off the rack.

  The master sergeant's lips turned down, his head bobbing left then right. “Not bad. It's flashy, though, catches the eye. Let me tell you something, in Special Forces, a sign of a job done properly is no one knows a thing. We get in and out without much fuss,” he said, taking the knife from Bobby’s hands. “This knife is flashy, gets a lot of attention. You need something quiet, a weapon no one notices until it's too late.”

  “Like that?” Bobby pointed to a steel baton about the length of his forearm.

  “Yes, exactly like that,” said the master sergeant with a smile. Without a word the compact marine pulled down the simple-looking weapon, balancing it in his palm. “No one will blink at a weapon like this. Most won’t fear it, but this is the most vicious piece of equipment here,” he said, twisting the top and pressing a hidden button along its length. The front of the baton fell off, serving as a weight for an almost invisible line that uncoiled from the interior.

  “Exactly what is that?” asked Bobby, his eyes narrowing.

  “Monofilament whip. Deadly at short and medium combat range, capable of carving atoms off a target. With the right skill you can remove limbs with the flick of a wrist, cut through damn near anything…including your arrogant friend in the gym,” he finished, handing the weapon over to Bobby.

  “Thank you,” he said, taking the whip, pressing the button to coil the filament back into the baton.

  “I’ll teach you how to use it, make you deadly. Just make sure you fight with your brain. Brawn almost never wins. Tactics, planning, and teamwork will take down Goliath every time.”

  “Thank you,” said Bobby in a low voice, feeling complete with the weapon in his hand.

  The master sergeant watched him from the corner of his eye for a moment longer, shaking his head like he had come to some sort of decision. “Listen, you kids get a pretty raw deal given the circumstances. Don’t waste what little time you have fighting with each other. Focus on the mission, and at least you can make a difference. You understand?”

  Bobby narrowed his eyes, not understanding. “What do you mean?”

  The master sergeant pushed out his jaw, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Fuck me, never mind. Nothing.”

  Bobby opened his mouth, and the man silenced him with a look that brooked no nonsense, and he was left wondering what in God's name he was talking about, what weren’t they telling them. Whatever it was left a sick feeling in the bottom of his stomach, sending his mind down dark paths he didn’t want to go.

  He followed the master sergeant out of the armory with new perspectives and new fears, gripping tightly to the metal baton with more doubts than ever.

  Chapter 22: Tempest

  2063

  Bobby watched them fall to the earth, his gut twisting in knots as his friends struck out against one another, neither offering quarter or surrender. A streak of orange cutting like a blade across the night sky, entangled by arcs of bright blue electricity sparking in all directions, like the embodiment of chaos made real.

  They crashed with a deafening explosion; the earth trembling beneath his feet like a volcano had erupted. Bobby was thrown, blinded by airborne grit and dust, the trees behind him flattened by the shockwave that followed. He was slow to rise, his head dizzy. Raising a hand to see through the haze, he caught brief glimpses of the sky above, Elizabeth’s tempest was fading, the world returning to normal. Bobby could tell she was still alive. He could still feel her, their connection unbroken. Staggering through the biting cold he made his way to where they fell, half-blinded by smoke, the temperature rising the closer he got to the point of impact. Bobby arrived in time to see Carter make it to his feet at the bottom of the pit, standing over an unconscious Elizabeth. The both looked worse for wear and covered in soot, a trickle of blood flowing from her nose and ears, Carter’s flight uniform in tatters. He looked up from the crater with his hands on his hips, squinting with one eye shut, his breath coming quickly like he had just finished a sprint. “Next time you wanna break up with a girl, you gotta do it yourself, bud,” said Carter, showing the whites of his teeth.

  Bending down to the lip of the crater, Bobby laughed, reaching out and pulling Carter up from the pit. Standing face-to-face with his friend he was startled. It was the first time he had been able to look at him, really look at him from close without thunder and lightning crashing all around them. There were crow's-feet surrounding his eyes, and the lines around his nose and mouth were more pronounced. Looking down at Carter's hand in his, Bobby saw small freckles covering the man’s skin. H
is eyes were the most shocking, having gone from a deep brown to a pale blue. “I may sound crazy here, but are you okay?” asked Bobby, hesitation making his voice thin, halting.

  Carter shook his head, his smile never fading. “Nothing, I feel—”

  Without warning, Carter was raised up, a raw scream exploding from this throat as torrents of thick blue current whipped around him. Bobby reached out trying to grab him, only to be thrown back by a massive shock that made his hair stand on end. Clutching his hand and blinking away the pain he looked back to see Elizabeth rising out of the crater on a wave of static thrust projected from one hand, the other raised over her head projecting streams of energy, tearing Carter apart. “Why can’t you just leave me be, Bobby?” she said through clenched teeth. “Leave me be, so I can save the world from Michael and his friends.”

  “He has nothing to do with this. Let him go,” he said, pointing at Carter whose eyes had rolled back into his head, his entire body trembling from the current coursing through him, smoke rising from his flesh.

  “He killed Andrew!” she screamed, lifting him higher, his skin blackening and blistering as she poured more power into him. “He just tried to kill me!”

  Watching his friend writhe in pain Bobby did the only thing he could think of, he reached down deep unleashing his rage, projecting waves of dark energy in thin tendrils toward Elizabeth, hoping that pain would make her stop. Without pause she shifted Carter’s body in front of her using the hapless pilot like a shield. Bobby closed his hand just in time, halting the flow when he saw what was about to happen. “Please, I’m begging you. Don’t do this,” said Bobby, falling to his knees. “He's a good man, and you're no murderer!”