The Revered (The Earth Epsilon Wars, Book 3)

by Terrance Mulloy

  The car blasted along the street, mounting a patchy sidewalk before sharply veering back onto the road, fishtailing until Matt regained control of the wheel. He began to purposely swerve to break the gunman’s line of sight until the car shot up a curving hill. When they reached the top, they were presented with two choices: left, or right.

  “Hold on,” Matt barked as he spun the wheel right and blasted down the street at top speed.

  Bad choice.

  At the bottom of the steep hill, the street became a dead-end. The only possible exit was via a narrow set of concrete stairs running between two small apartment blocks. The stairs led to another street below. With no way of turning around, they had no choice but to take a shot.

  Reaching the top of the hill behind them, the SUV saw where Matt was headed and ripped the vehicle left, knifing down the adjacent street to flank them.

  “There’s no way we’re gonna fit,” Ally cautioned as Matt floored it towards the stairs. “Dad!” She grabbed the door handle and braced for impact as Matt threaded the narrow approach. “Shit!”

  “We’ll make it!” he yelled, white-knuckling the wheel.

  “No, we… can’t… make… oh, shit!” Ally screamed, pinching her eyes shut.

  They both held on for dear life as the car violently bounced down the stairs, a rooster tail of sparks showering as they scraped the wall, the front grill crashing into the pavement below and shattering into a million pieces. When they bounced off the last step, Matt stomped the pedal and skidded into a sharp turn, the rear tires spitting snow and mud.

  Suddenly, the SUV blasted out of the left-hand side street as Matt bombed past them, missing their prey by a mere second.

  Matt caught the Wraith peeling out behind them in his rearview mirror. “Can’t shake ‘em. We’re gonna have to go off-road.” When Ally did not answer, he glanced over to see she was already positioning herself to fire on the pursuing SUV. “No, wait until they’re closer,” he yelled at her. Ally leaned out of her passenger side window and began firing anyway. Matt shook his head disapprovingly at his daughter.

  The pursuing SUV swerved out of Ally’s line of fire, her rounds unstitching the roof. Tires squealed as the vehicle regained control and swung back in behind them. The Wraith gunman appeared out the front passenger-side window again, lining up another shot with his Reaper-rifle.

  But Ally already had the SUVs two front tires in her sights.

  Thwap!

  Thwap!

  Direct hit.

  Rubber exploded and brakes locked. The vehicle lost control and began to skid on its rims, sparks showering, unable to stop, rocketing sideways into a live poultry shop with the speed of a bullet train. Glass shattered and chicken feathers blew everywhere as the vehicle plowed through the back drywall of the store, flipping into an abandoned construction site behind it. The vehicle finally came to a stop, impaled by a concrete pillar riddled with exposed rebar. It was a bone destroying, truly horrendous impact. The three Wraith operatives inside were killed instantly, entombed by layers of crushed metal.

  Matt caught the horrific accident in his rearview. They were safe for the moment, but he accelerated anyway. They shot down another narrow street and entered an area of the town that seemed a little more residential. There were no traffic lights, but Matt could see an intersection coming up on them fast. When he reached the intersection, a few cars crossing Matt’s path slammed on their brakes and swerved out of the way as he gunned it through the gauntlet, just making it through.

  Ally turned and peered between the seats, breathing a sigh of relief. “We’re clear?”

  Knowing how the Wraith always hunted their enemy in successive waves, Matt knew better than to relax. “Not for long. They will keep hunting us.”

  “What do you think the locals are going to do when they pull those bodies out of that wreckage?”

  “This entire town will be swarming with Wraith soon. I dread to think what will happen.”

  “There’s no way we can help them?”

  “That’s why we’re here.”

  “No offense, but I don’t think we’re off to a very good start.”

  “We need to ditch this car once we pass Glodu.”

  “And then what?” Ally zipped her jacket up to her chin, suddenly feeling the cold air that had been relentlessly blasting her face through the windowless vehicle.

  “We walk.”

  “To where exactly?”

  Matt raised his arm and the time band attached to its black surface began to shimmer, until a brilliant holographic image ignited before them, revealing the entire region. It was a strange three-dimensional rendering; a topographical map made from semi-transparent crystalline structures that were being illuminated by some unseen source of radiant light. A small red blip pulsed softly in the center of the map like a beacon. “This is our map to the Zograf Monastery. It’s supposedly been abandoned since the early nineteenth century. This is where Cromwell has been hiding.”

  Ally leaned back and folded her arms, overcome with a sudden wave of tiredness. “We can’t we just drive all the way there?”

  “Once we pass Glodu, there’s no more road until the other side of the peak. We can only reach it on foot. It’s about a three-day hike.”

  Ally yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Great. More campfires.”

  “Oh, come on. They’re not that bad, are they?”

  “So, this monastery where Cromwell’s supposed to be hiding – it’s remote?”

  “Very.”

  “No civilization for miles, right?”

  “Correct.”

  “Awesome. Then what exactly are we gonna do for food?”

  “We both know how to hunt. We’ll figure something out.”

  “You didn’t think to just ask the Combine for some food vouchers or something?”

  While Matt leveled an unamused look at her, he thought she did make a valid point.

  Seventeen

  Matt drove through the snow-dappled land for another few hours, passing speckles of wild forest and lush, rolling hills. Ally stared out her window, entranced by the beauty of the winter sun, bathing her face in a light she had forgotten existed. This was a vision of a world she had only briefly known. “So beautiful,” she whispered to herself.

  “I think we’re here,” Matt said, slowing to hunch forward over the steering wheel to inspect the fuel gauge. “Just as well too. We’re gettin’ low on gas.”

  They came to a stop next to an old lopsided sign on the edge of the road, partially obscured by tall grass. It indicated they were one mile from Glodu.

  Ally’s eyes narrowed on something beyond the sign. “There are people up there.”

  Matt could see a distant campfire smoldering beyond an open field. It was a large Gypsy encampment, littered with old rusty cars and campervans. There were even some tents and decorative horse wagons scattered about.

  Matt accelerated, driving another hundred meters until he steered the vehicle off the road and onto a grassy field. A few Gypsy kids playing with a half-deflated soccer ball nearby stopped to eye the car suspiciously as it approached them.

  “What are you doing?” asked Ally, waving at the kids with a friendly smile. They did not return the gesture.

  “I’ve got an idea.”

  “Your last one nearly got us both killed.”

  “You wanna eat, right?”

  “Of course, but—”

  “Then you need to start trusting your old man.”

  A large Gypsy man chopping wood, paused mid-swing to watch a small car approach the camp, its tires sloshing through patches of muddy grass and snow, its engine sputtering in protest from the cold. It also appeared damaged and was minus a windshield.

  The thirty-eight-year-old man’s name was Nuri. He was an imposing figure, with dirt-stained fingers attached to powerful arms and broad shoulders. He calmly wiped his brow with his forearm and yelled out to the other Gypsy men in the camp. “Avem un vizitaor!”

  The ot
her men immediately dropped what they were doing and headed out to meet it. Some of the women began to round up the children and hurry them into nearby tents.

  Still gripping his axe, Nuri headed off to intercept the Fiat, which had now pulled up just a few feet shy of the first campfire. The occupants could be seen sitting inside, watching some of the men sprint across the campgrounds towards them, yelling at each other in Romani.

  Matt cut the engine and pulled out the keys, clocking the men who had begun to surround them, their dark eyes revealing fear and something else he immediately recognized - an eagerness for violence. “Just let me do the talking. I don’t want this to turn into another incident.”

  Ally ripped her creaky door open and climbed out. “Whatever you plan to do, make it quick. I’m starving.”

  Matt followed her out, the Gypsy men now looming closer, shouting angrily at them. “Guys, calm down,” he pleaded, raising his hands in surrender. “Does anyone here speak English?”

  The two men nearest to Ally tightened their circle on her, shouting at her in Romani. One of them was gripping something in the pocket of his tracksuit.

  Grinning at them, Ally made sure they saw her hand disappear under the fold of her jacket.

  The two men paused their advance. The warning was loud and clear, but despite that, they did not back away. They held their position.

  Ally relaxed her arm while keeping a firm grip on her blaster. She knew these people were wanderers of this land, the hardship of their simple existence legible in their weathered faces. In many ways, she admired that. Respected it even. But there was no escaping the fact that these men did not look friendly. They were riddled with fear. A fear Ally knew all too well. This entire region seemed to be infected with it.

  “What do you want?” Nuri barked in near-perfect English. “We do not require the company of strangers. You should turn around and leave.”

  Matt nodded, hoping the flash of surprise that rippled across his face went unnoticed. He was not expecting any of them to speak such fluent English. “I understand, sir.” His tone was calm and respectful. “We’re only passing through. We do not mean to intrude on you.”

  Hearing Matt’s accent, Nuri swung the axe over his shoulder, studying their unusual military fatigues before answering. “Then what is it you want, American?”

  Matt held up the car keys and jingled them. “In exchange for these? Maybe some food and supplies before we head off again. Just enough to see us through the next few days.”

  “I have no need for that car.”

  “As people who pride themselves on wandering freely, I thought you’d be eager to barter with a common traveler.”

  “Maybe they’re lost,” Ally interjected.

  Nuri rebuked her with a hard stare. “Not all who wander are lost, sweetheart.”

  “No, but maybe some are too stupid to see a bargain when it’s staring right at them.”

  Matt turned to Ally with an annoyed look. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

  Ally shrugged as if she had no idea what was talking about.

  Nuri turned to his men and said something to them in Romani, then sneered and rolled his shoulders. The men all erupted with laughter.

  Realizing he was getting nowhere with this rapidly deteriorating situation; Matt decided a different tact. He lowered his hand and gave a confident, almost supercilious shrug. “Suit yourself.” He pulled out the fold of stolen money, hoping it was enough to entice the large man. “I’m not sure how much is here, but you’re welcome to it. We’re not asking for much in return.”

  Nuri looked at the money and burst out laughing. “Get back in your piece of shit car and go.” Shaking his head, he turned and began walking away, ordering his men to ensure the two strangers obeyed.

  Hackles up, and with a hardboiled glare, one of the men near Ally yelled something then pulled out a large hunting knife. He waved it at her like he was shooing a fly away, motioning towards the car with his other hand. “Intră in! Dun! Dun! Go!”

  Ignoring the order, Ally shot Matt a look, not impressed by his pathetic attempt at supplication. “OK, now we do it my way.” With a blinding flash, she whipped out her blaster and started pointing it from one man to the next. “Back, back, back! Get the fuck back!”

  Startled, the men all backed away, clearing some much-needed distance.

  With their next move uncertain, Matt groaned. “Ally come on, put it away.” He looked at Nuri, almost embarrassed by his daughter’s outburst. “Look, I apologize for that, but we’re both tired and hungry. We have a long journey ahead of us, so can we at least try and work out a deal of some kind?”

  Nuri whistled loudly, then goofily clapped at Matt’s failed attempt at diplomacy. “No deal, American. But now, you will pay for your arrogance.”

  Suddenly, another twenty Gypsy men crested the hill behind him, coming down to join the others. It was a mixture of young and old, armed with bats, large sticks, and axes. Some were also armed with antique-looking hunting rifles. Nuri’s whistle was a call for back up.

  Spotting the small army that was now headed their way, Ally pivoted her aim to Nuri, the muzzle of her blaster firmly leveled at his chest. “What’s your name?” she asked.

  Unmoved by the futuristic-looking gun pointed at him, he answered with a smug grin. “Nuri.”

  “I don’t believe you’re a bad person, Nuri. I think you’re just trying to protect your people. I understand the enormity of that responsibility. I also know what it’s like to be scared – to be suspicious of any outsiders. So here’s what I propose. You tell your uncles, cousins, and brothers to stand down. Then you allow us to take the few things we need so we can be on our way. In exchange, you get the car and the money. Nice, easy, and best of all, no one gets hurt. How about it? We got a deal?”

  In response, Nuri simply raised his axe into the air and whistled louder to his men.

  Without warning, the two men nearest Ally lunged for her. The one wielding the hunting knife drove it into her gut, but she skillfully avoided the blade with a downward thrust of her forearm. Before he could recover, she snatched the man’s hand with enough compressive force, it broke his hold on the blade. It fell to the ground and she kicked it away, sinking the tip of her elbow into the man’s jaw with the force of a battering ram. The blow rocked him hard enough to drop him to his knees. He hunched over, gasping for air as he spat blood and shattered teeth into the mud.

  Enraged, the other man charged her like a runaway freight train, screaming as if he were a Viking entering battle. As he went to tackle her Rugby-style around the waist, Ally simply side-stepped out of his way. Unable to stop, the man kept going and rammed headfirst into the hood of the car, knocking himself out cold. He crumpled to the ground.

  As one of the older, more brawny men came up and swung for Matt, his hand lashed out like a whip and struck the man’s windpipe. He staggered back, gasping on the searing pain, unable to breathe.

  When another vicious strike came from behind, Matt spun around and blocked it, kicking the leg of his attacker. His leg bent inward at the knee - a sickening angle that forced the man to keel over and scream, clutching his leg as if it had just been ensnared in the jaws of a bear trap.

  Before any of the other men had a chance to attack, Ally fired three rapid shots into the air.

  Thwap-Thwap-Thwap!

  The blaster’s strange thunder was enough to stop everyone in their tracks.

  Ally snatched the man who had fallen beside her and hoisted up upright by his collar. He whimpered, cradling his wrist. Eyes on a shell-shocked Nuri, she pressed the blaster’s fluted barrel against his head and grinned. “Are we done?”

  Nuri cocked his head curiously. Finally, he saw the pieces fit together. Her grin was that of a zealot’s. Whoever this crazy young woman was, he had no doubt she was ready to die right there for a cause that only she understood.

  Getting only silence from Nuri, Ally pressed the barrel against the man’s head a little har
der. No older than twenty, he was now begging for his life to be spared. Of course, Ally had no intention of killing him. It was simply a ruse designed to evoke the desired response from Nuri. “Well?” she queried. “I could do this all day. Your call.”

  Nuri’s eyes held silent while the man sobbed like a scorned child. Unable to admit it in front of his men, he knew she was the one in control of this situation, despite being grossly outnumbered. He gritted his jaw and relented. “Let him go... please.”

  She did. The man scurried away from her, reeling from the shock of such devastating emasculation.

  Nuri had no idea what to make of this unfortunate encounter, but there was one question that still lingered. “There is nothing out there. Not for miles. Nothing but wild forest. Where is it you think you are headed?”

  “That’s our business,” Ally retorted firmly, refusing to lower her blaster.

  “As long as you’re in my house, it’s my business too.” Nuri’s tone was sharp from the insult of her answer.

  “The Zograf Monastery,” Matt replied, reaching down to help one of the injured men onto his good leg.

  That name went through Nuri like a flaming arrow. His dark eyes churned as he watched his cousin scramble to his feet and limp over to him. “There is nothing there for you but death. And no one dares venture there unless they seek it. That is the realm of the Grey Devil.”

  Matt nodded, his eyes unwavering. “I know now why so many people here fear strangers.”

  “Then you would also know this place is cursed. Something not of this world has taken up residence…” Nuri trailed off, fear bubbling across his face. “The order of the Zograf disappeared hundreds of years ago. They were never heard from again. Why would you wish to go there?”

  Matt motioned to his daughter standing next to him. “Like she said, that’s our business.”

  He chuckled at their hubris, unable to see much of a future for his unwanted guests. “Foolish business, no doubt.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “No, not perhaps. I know this for certain. Helping you—giving you supplies—this is pointless. You would never make it there.”