by G J Ogden
Elijah nodded. “The same goes for you too.”
“It’s a deal then.” Summer smiled.
There was a shout from the wall. “Movement ahead! Make ready! Make ready!”
Summer punched Elijah on the shoulder, “Are you ready?”
“Not at all,” said Elijah. “But let’s do this anyway!” and they both laughed; the sort of nervous, adrenalin-fueled laugh that would make them appear to be mad if anyone were watching.
Summer raced away to take up her position and with each step further away, Elijah could feel the panic rising up inside himself. He swallowed, but his mouth was dry, so he tried to focus on his breathing, and on what he had been taught during his training. He managed a few deep breaths, and then picked up his staff and ran to his position in the courtyard to join his team.
Summer glanced back one final time to check on Elijah and then climbed back up the ladder to the top of the wall, re-joining the two other rangers she had stationed on the platform above the main gate. Summer had selected these two in particular because they were excellent archers, though neither even approached Summer’s level of proficiency. She removed her quiver and placed it against the wall in front of her. Next she picked up her long bow, which had been resting on the platform alongside a short bow, which she planned to switch to in the event the walls were breached. She hoped she wouldn’t need it. The long bow was a new design she had been working on, based on a drawing that she’d seen from a neighboring settlement; something that the hermit had traded for supplies a year or so earlier. It was more powerful, able to penetrate straight through the body, or so the hermit had said, based on his conversation with the designer, though everyone knew the old man was prone to hyperbole.
More shouts echoed around the courtyard from rangers on other parts of the wall. “Movement! I see four!” “Movement! Two approaching!” “Movement! I count five!”
Summer raised her voice as loudly as she could without it becoming a scream. “Archers, ready!”, then she stared intently ahead, trying to spot the approaching roamers through the haze, so as to get the earliest possible advantage and take them out at range, before they could reach the gate. The gate was the most important section to hold; the walls were thick stone and built tall, but the gate was the weakest point of the settlement. Decades of wear from wind, rain and frost had already weakened the hinges, but the shock of the impact from the space station fragment had accelerated the damage, and she worried that they would not hold much longer.
Summer saw a shadow move in the haze ahead and she focused even more intensely than before, squinting through the dense smog. More shadows; three, four… the count quickly rose to ten, and then they were no longer shadows, but the hazy silhouettes of roamers.
“Movement! Ten, ahead of the main gate!” Summer shouted, and then swiftly nocked an arrow, followed soon after by the two archers beside her. Summer took aim and was about to give the command to fire, but then she saw more clearly what was emerging from the darkness, and suddenly relaxed her string, a look of horror on her face. They had been expecting roamers, but the shapes that were approaching were not roamers, not any more. Summer had never seen any of the maddened in person before, but she had heard the stories, and Ethan had described them to her in gruesome detail. She knew that one of these creatures was more dangerous than two or even three roamers, and advancing through the haze towards the gate were at least ten, with who knew how many others approaching other parts of the wall.
“Hold!” Summer shouted, and as the message was relayed the archers relaxed their strings all along the walls. The two rangers next to Summer, looked at her, expectantly, waiting for an explanation, but Summer was lost in thought and rapidly reevaluating her strategy. Roamers were one thing, but defending the settlement against a horde of the maddened was something quite different. These creatures were belligerent, and would attack without quarter if provoked, or if you strayed too close and disturbed their domains, or simply got in their way. But, based on what she had learned from Ethan, if left alone they were too far removed from reality to have any true awareness of their surroundings. So maybe, just maybe, they could wait out this storm and the maddened creatures would simply pass by the settlement, without even noticing they were there. It was a risk, Summer knew this, but with fewer than thirty rangers to defend the settlement, even a dozen of these things could kill them all.
“Summer, they are coming. Why don’t we attack?” said one of the rangers on the wall beside her. His voice was shaky and his eyes pleaded for an answer.
“No, we hold… The things out there aren’t roamers; they’re the maddened,” said Summer. Her voice was firm and controlled, but from the horrified reaction of the two archers, an onlooker might have thought she had screamed in their faces. “If we ignore them and stay quiet they might just pass us by, if we’re lucky. Send word to the runners; do not attack unless they attack first, understood?”
The closest of the two archers nodded frantically and then threw down his bow as if it were on fire, and dashed to the runner on the wall, relaying Summer’s message. The runner practically fell down the ladder and sprinted to the other runners in the settlement square, who in turn each raced to the four corners of the walls.
I hope you’re right, Summer… she said to herself, and then she hunkered down low behind the wall and watched the maddened approach, close enough that their mutated features became clear, even through the haze. She scrunched up her face; the descriptions had not done them justice. In some ways, she had still expected them to look human, but the final stages of the Maddening had taken even this away from them.
Come on, turn! Summer urged, holding a fist to her mouth. And then, as the maddened grew closer, and the great obstacle that was the settlement walls became more obvious, Summer saw them slowly arc away. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The dust caused her to choke and she coughed into her tunic, trying to mask the noise, though the swirling winds were too strong to carry her voice more than a few meters.
An hour passed in this way, maybe more; the haze cloaked everything, and even the position of the sun was difficult to discern. Yet still they came, wave after wave, slipping past the settlement, oblivious to the terrified rangers, huddled inside, covering their faces against the swirling dust. Summer had no idea that the smog would have been this intense or that it would have brought with it so many of the maddened creatures. Suddenly she felt very foolish; it was not a feeling that she was accustomed too, and not one she liked. She had been so sure of her plan; so confident that they could defend the settlement, but now, huddled on the wall like the frightened prey of a savage predator, Summer realized that they were lucky not to be dead already.
The winds picked up again, forcing Summer to shield her eyes and bury her face in her tunic. Squinting through a gap in the wall, she looked out towards the city; the haze seemed to have thinned and she could make out landmarks in the distance that had not been visible an hour earlier. The biting winds had not been their ally, but perhaps a saving grace was that they were also pushing the storm away from the settlement.
Summer wheeled around and checked along the other side of the wall. A runner was scampering along the top, heading back to relay messages and updates from the other team leaders. The wind howled through the walls, and suddenly gusted powerfully making Summer hold tightly to the platform to stop herself from toppling over. Then she heard cries from along the wall, blurred and dampened by the swirling winds. She pulled herself up to a low crouch and saw two rangers leaning over the edge, while another was shouting in a futile attempt to be heard over the bellowing storm.
“What are you doing!?” Summer called out, though her voice was swallowed by the wind, “Get down!” But still the ranger called out to her. Then Summer realized that the runner was missing, and her gut tightened like a fist. She jumped to her feet and peered over the wall, and then she saw him. The runner was sprawled on the grass outside, having been blown clean off the wall by the gusting w
inds.
Summer cursed into the hazy sky, and then peered back toward the city. There were still shapes moving, far fewer now, but the danger had not yet passed fully. There were two choices; leave the runner outside and hope that he had the sense to lie still, and that the maddened would not see him; or open the gates and send rangers to drag him quickly back inside. Neither option was a good one; if she left the runner outside and the maddened found him, it could alert them to the others inside the settlement. But if she opened the gate and sent rangers to retrieve him, she risked losing the gate, and the entire settlement.
She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate, but the roar of the penetrating wind made it impossible to think clearly. She thought about how close they were to making it through, and how easily everything could still be lost. It was her pride that had led them all here; she had rallied people to her cause, including Elijah, and she could not risk it all now in order to rescue one man. She hated herself for the decision she was about to make; it went against everything she was and made her feel sick with disgust, but to open the gate now would be suicide.
Summer turned to the ranger next to her. “Run up the wall and tell them to get out of sight and hold their positions!” she shouted to him. “We can’t risk a rescue now.”
The ranger looked confused and afraid. “But, Summer, someone has already gone after him!”
“What?!” She bent over the wall and saw a second ranger outside, dragging the unconscious runner back towards the gate.
“Who opened the gate?” Summer shouted back, but the ranger shook his head. Summer grabbed onto the platform and swung her head underneath; the gate was still shut.
“Then how the hell did he get out of…” Summer shouted, but then she froze. “Oh no…” Scrambling back to the wall she peered down at the rescuer again. There were only three people who knew of Ethan’s secret doorway that lead out to the old tree on the mound outside the walls; Ethan, herself and Elijah. She swallowed hard and tasted bile. “Elijah!”
Far below, Elijah struggled to haul the injured runner back along the wall towards the gate. The first few meters had been easy, but the swirling winds were making it hard to stay balanced. The haze had lifted enough that even the city was now faintly visible in the distance, but this also meant that the things that still skulked outside could also more clearly see him. He watched the blurry horizon line, hoping that the maddened had all passed by, but then his hopes were shattered. There were more shapes approaching, and they would reach the walls long before Elijah had any hope of dragging the runner to safety, or even getting back inside himself. He slumped down onto the grass, exhausted.
“Someone should have warned me not to be a hero,” he said to the unconscious runner. He forced a laugh, trying to fight the sick sensation that was overwhelming him, but the realization that his actions had doomed them both were now all too apparent. “I’m sorry…”
Elijah shifted his position and sat facing out towards the creatures that now silently stalked him. Instead of arcing away from the walls as they had previously done, they crept slowly and deliberately towards him, seemingly unconcerned with each other, and focused only on him. Elijah forced himself to stand and with a trembling hand managed to draw the dagger from its sheath on his belt. Then, with a voice that wavered even more than his hands, he spoke the words, “I promise to protect the few so that we again can be many. Though the world fell, we will not.”
“Elijah!”
Elijah jolted his head to the side to see Summer running towards him with another ranger close behind.
“Don’t just stand there, grab his feet!” Summer called out as she reached his side and then unslung her short bow. The second ranger hooked the unconscious runner underneath his arms and called for Ethan to grab his legs.
“The gate is open,” Summer called out, and then she saw one of the maddened start to charge, “but hurry!”
Elijah and the other ranger hauled the runner up and raced back towards the gate as quickly as their combined legs could carry them, driven on by adrenalin and fear.
Summer nocked an arrow, aimed and fired, striking the charging creature in the thigh, but it only served to slow it by a fraction. She nocked again and fired, but the wind gusted and blew the arrow off course, sending it whistling past its head. She began to sidestep towards the gate, and nocked another arrow; even for an archer of Summer’s skills, shooting while moving, inside a dust storm was a tough ask. She shot the arrow and watched it sink into the creature’s throat, causing it to fall, but even then it did not stop moving. Instead, it clawed its way forward with one hand, while holding the other over the gushing wound.
Two more charged and there were more joining behind them. Summer glanced back and saw that Elijah and the others were almost back to the gate. She nocked, aimed and fired, sinking the arrow into its shoulder, but the creature continued on undeterred, as if she was merely shooting twigs. She fired again and finally the creature fell to its knees, but she had already shot enough arrows to know that this was a battle she could not win. Summer turned and ran, catching up with Elijah just as they were almost through the gate. She skidded to a stop, spun around, drew and fired, hitting the closest of the maddened things in the gut, but as with the others, still it came forward, and five or six more were only seconds behind it.
“Shut the gate, now!” cried Summer, as she loaded again and fired, hitting the next one in the eye. The gate began to slowly wind shut, but the gap was still wide enough for Summer to squeeze through. She nocked and fired for a final time, but this time didn’t wait to see the arrow fly into the creature’s chest before she cast down her bow and jumped into the narrowing opening, passing through just as three more of the attackers slammed into the gates. The impact threw her back onto the dirt of the settlement square, where Elijah grabbed her by the arm and hauled her back to her feet.
“Are you okay?” cried Elijah, breathless and near frantic.
Summer shook him off her. “What were you thinking?” she shouted at him. “You could have got us all killed!”
Elijah looked down. “I’m, I’m… sorry,” he said.
More bodies hammered into the gates and the low creak of ancient, fatigued metal reached Summer’s ears. She spun around and saw the great hinges begin to distort.
“Brace the gate!” she cried out to the rangers in the square, and then hurried forward, pushing back on the doors, her body inches away from the mottled gray faces and black eyes of the beings on the other side. Six more rangers joined her, pressing their backs against the metal gates to hold back the horde. Summer’s eyes fell on the terrified face of a runner standing in the square. It was a young woman, who Summer thought may have been Talia’s niece.
“Ring the bell!” she shouted to her, but the woman was frozen with fear. Summer pushed away from the gate and grabbed her. “Wake up!” she shouted, and slapped her across the face. “We need everyone down here now. Ring the bell, go!”
The woman seemed to come alive and without a word she turned and ran to the council chamber. Summer again heard the groan of the hinges as yet more of the maddened slammed into the doors and she knew instinctively that no amount of rangers bracing it was going to be enough.
“Fall back!” Summer shouted, and then she drew her knife. “Fall back and fight. Fight for your lives!”
The bell rang out in the courtyard, clanging urgently, loudly enough for all to hear. Immediately, the rangers along the walls dropped down and charged into the settlement square to join Summer, drawing staffs, knives and short-bows. The rangers bracing the gate dropped back, Elijah included, and spread out beside Summer. In all, there were twenty-nine rangers, versus perhaps a dozen maddened foes. They were too few, Summer realized, but it was all they had, and it would have to be enough.
The gates were hit again, and this time the old, rusted hinges failed, and the gates came falling inward, followed by a swarm of the most vile and malevolent creatures that had ever existed on the planet. Arr
ows flew past Summer’s head, striking flesh, but Summer knew that arrows would not halt their charge. She looked for Elijah and positioned herself close to him, as the first of the maddened hit their own front ranks. Screams of pain and terror filled the air. Summer ducked and slashed the legs of one creature as it ran past, slicing tendons and sending it crashing to the dirt, before pressing forward and sinking her knife into the back of another. Leaving the knife stuck in the creature, Summer leapt back and picked up a staff that had been lying discarded on the dirt from a ranger who had already fallen, and used it to crush the skull of the another assailant, which was clawing at the body of the dying ranger lying beneath it.
She fell back and looked for Elijah as more arrows flew and more cries of anguish filled her ears. Jumping over the body of one creature, she reached Elijah’s side and smashed her staff into the neck of his attacker. Together they fought another, but Summer was struck and knocked onto her back. She rolled over, spat blood, and forced herself back up, slashing out at her assailant and driving it back. Elijah took advantage and sank his knife into the creature’s chest, causing it to cry out with an inhuman howl and back away. It then stood tall, pulled the knife from its heart and threw it to the ground as if it were nothing more than the prick of a thorn. Elijah scurried back and the creature pursued him, its black eyes staring into his own, blood pouring from the open wound. Summer bounded forward and drove the tip of her staff into the hole in its chest and then kicked it deeper inside; it fell, convulsed and was still.
Summer grabbed Elijah’s arm and dragged him further back from the front ranks. “Stay back!” she shouted to him. She looked around for another weapon; anything more she could use to fight with, and spotted a woodcutter’s axe outside a hut a few meters away. She ran for it, calling out again for Elijah to stay back, but her adopted nephew’s face was glazing over; shock was beginning to tighten its icy grip on his body. She grabbed the axe and turned around to see Elijah struggling with one of the maddened that had broken through; it smashed a bony fist into the young ranger’s chest and then lashed him around the head with its mottled gray arm. Elijah fell heavily, unable to move or even breath.
