by Bo Luellen
Looking down, Amanda saw a dead mouse was against the outside corner of the barn. It’s open stomach and entrails were being pecked at by a large raven. The bird regarded her, while a tiny piece of meat dangled from its scratched beak. She jumped as it flew past her and into the building. Amanda watched as it danced on the back of the dead cultist and drove its bill into the front pocket of the man. After a few tries, it pulled out a Macaroons candy bar and hopped off the body. She straightened up at the sight of food, as the raven took its prize and flew off into the forest.
She stripped down the corpse despite the blood flowing from the wound. Twenty minutes later, she had on warm clothing and a new pair of boots. They fit almost perfectly, except for the hole in the chest from the knife wound. In the cultist’s pack, she found two British military 24-Hour Operational Ration Packs. Amanda ripped open one of the packages, and downed the contents, as she kept pilfering. The man’s canteen was halfway full, but the fresh water felt good on her dry lips. The gun he carried was a bolt action Lee–Enfield L42 sniper rifle that had a 10 round magazine. After a few tries, she was able to remove the jam and slung the weapon over her shoulder. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed the handle of the buck knife and quickly removed it from the cadaver. Taking a deep breath, she wiped the red fluid off on the side of the building and stuck it in its sheath. Amanda left the barn and said a quiet goodbye towards the badger’s hole.
The breaking daylight shot out over the tree line, as she looked around to decide on a direction. In a massive Scots Pine was the large Raven that had made a meal out of the coconut flavored candy bar. It opened its marked-up beak and squawked at her. Springing from a limb, it flew off north into the woodlands. The Raven landed in an oak at the edge of her sight.
She took the rifle off her shoulders and marched towards the bird, “Sure, why not. You’ve had some good advice so far.”
When she reached the Raven’s perch, the bird flew and landed over 100 yards away, in a different tree. Each time she would follow it and repeat the cycle. On a few occasions, the black-feathered bird would disappear into the treetops. When this happened, Amanda would keep walking in a direction that felt right. Without fail, the Raven would find her again, and she would trail it.
While she hiked, she felt her body warming up. The realization of how bad her condition was became evident in the soreness of her feet. Soon, it became too painful to continue walking, and she sat down on the cold ground. She took off her stolen boots to discover several busted blisters on her soles and heels. The exposed flesh had rubbed against the hard leather until the meat of her muscle was showing. She took out a small first aid kit she found in the dead man’s backpack and popped it open. After a few minutes, she had applied an antiseptic cream on the wounds and covered each one in Band-Aids. It was the first sense of pain relief Amanda had experienced since her run from the Brotherhood had begun. She looked over the rest of her body and took note of all the minor cuts and wounds.
From the side, the Raven cawed from a nearby branch and startled her. It flew off and perched on an English Oak, some seventy-five yards away. A reflection from something metal flashed in the Scotland sunlight just beneath the bird. Her eyes panned down to three black-garbed Brotherhood members snaking their way through the trees and headed in her direction. They were each carrying automatic rifles but had the similar gear to the redhead from the barn.
Amanda laid flat against the ground on her tummy and pulled her rifle up in front of her. Her heart went wild, as she dared to move her head up over the low grass. The trio were traveling at the same pace and weren’t looking in her direction.
She gripped her rifle hard, I can’t possibly run in this condition, and I can’t put my boots on in time. God, I don’t want to do this, but these assholes aren’t giving me a choice!
She remembered her experience in hunting when she was young and rested her gun on her forearm. Amanda leveled her rifle at them and brought the crosshairs on the lead cultist. Carefully, and coolly, she clicked off the safety.
Pausing, she thought, These men could have families. Children and wives that could have no idea what they’re into. If I kill them, then I’m depriving them of a father. I’m no better than how the Brotherhood took my husband and left my daughters without a dad.
She felt the impending tragedy of the inevitable need to take a life. Amanda exhaled and squeezed. Before the trigger was fully pulled, her eyes caught sight of the Raven launching off a branch over their heads. The vacant perch bobbed up and down and shook a hornets’ nest that hung from the tree limb. Black dots poured out of the grey blob and buzzed around their home. The advancing men were seconds from traveling right under the nest.
She elevated the barrel towards the anchor that connected the collection of wood and saliva to the tree. Amanda peered down the scope and put the crosshairs right on the base, then waited. She opened her free eye and did her best to gauge the relative position of the cultist. The footsteps of the soldiers of the Crimson Brotherhood were close enough to be audible. Her stomach turned in anxiety, and the lead man stopped to put his hand on the tree for support. He knocked free a collection of mud, then passed directly under the nest.
The first shot from her rifle surprised her, as she squeezed the trigger unconsciously. The report resonated throughout the forest and caused the line of hunters to drop down for cover. The recoil from the gun bounced the scope away from her face. As she reset, Amanda saw the nest free-falling towards the ground. A long second passed before it hit, as the men desperately looked for the shooter. The middle gunman’s orders to his comrades were drowned out by the sharp splat of the hornets’ home on the ground next to him.
Instantly, the insects flew out of the cracked orb and viciously swarmed the three men. Amanda’s jaw opened wide, as she was unprepared for the sheer amount of hornets that poured out from the globe. Over a thousand tiny insects stung the men repeatedly and carpeted their exposed skin.
Behind Amanda, the Raven landed on her back and cawed loudly into the air. She felt an odd comfort from having its weight on her. Realizing her opportunity, she worked the bolt action of the rifle and took aim. The beleaguered woman centered her sights on the lead hunter, who was on the ground and in a fetal position. He was attempting to cover his welted face and arms from further assaults. She pulled the trigger, and the tree behind the cultist was painted red with the blood splatter and brains.
Amanda quickly worked another round in the chamber and positioned the gun for another shot. The middle cultist went running in a straight direction away from the group. The man was stripping off his jacket and screamed at the pain from the enraged hornets. She took advantage of the moment when he stopped to slap a stinging bug from his neck. Her bullet’s impact blew through the man’s spine and out through his ribcage. He dropped to his knees and was followed by the halo of stinging creatures. He fell face-first onto the ground, and his wiggling ass vibrated from death spasms.
Amanda came up to her knees to get a better view of the last assassin still alive. She saw the remaining cultist huddled up against a tree, with his coat drawn up over his head. He was using it as a shelter against the attacking insects. Twisting in agony, the Brotherhood Hunter couldn’t keep some of the bugs from making it to his flesh. She worked the bolt action again and loaded another round. Taking a kneeling position, she leveled the gun at the man’s head.
Her radio came alive with the voice of a man, “Gamma Team, we heard shots in yer sector. Report?”
The voice from her final target blurted out over the radio, “We ur under fire! rame, we ur taking fire ‘n’ hae casualties. We need immediate reinforcements in sector...”
Her shot pierced his jacket and cut off his sentence. His body dropped down and went limp as the coat fell down and let the insects in. She lowered the weapon, and the adrenaline dump surged through her body. Amanda popped up to her feet, and the Raven flew off in response. She turned and threw up the majority of the ration pack on the cold ground. Watchi
ng the warm vapor come up for the vomit, she shook at the thought of what she had just done.
The radio on her neck burst to life as the gruff man shouted, “Hing in thare Gamma Team, we hae five squads converging oan ye in twenty minutes. Fin’ cover ‘n’ hauld yer horses.”
Motivated by the impending soldiers arrival, she quickly put back on her boots and then slung her rifle. Amanda circled around the still swarming hornets and made it to the cultist who had attempted to run away. She reached down and picked up his AK-47, backpack, and retrieved his two spare magazines.
Amanda looked over the newly acquired rifle and played with the mechanism a few times. She had never held a weapon like this before but eventually figured out how the basics worked. A chill came over her as she thought about her lost companions. After leaving them at the roadside camp three days ago seemed like a distant nightmare.
Amanda looked down at the rifle in her hands, It seems nearly impossible to believe that Josh, Ian, and Roger could have survived against men armed with weapons such as these.
She looked up and tried to decide which direction the Brotherhood would be coming from. A rustle of feathers from a treetop caught her attention. The Raven sat proudly in a pine tree and cawed towards her. She turned the safety off the machine gun and marched towards her feathered guide.
The Wilds of Scotland – Friday, November 16th, 2018 – Early p.m. BST
Amanda had walked for hours, listening to the Crimson Brotherhood attempting to pin down her position over the radio. Since she only knew where the Gamma sector was, it became impossible to know their locations. The tree cover had become sparse, and she was forced to travel over the hills of the Highlands.
Another acknowledgement of position rang out in her headphones, If I keep the radio on, maybe I might hear one of them radio in if they spot me. It just might give me a chance to find some cover before they start shooting at me.
She hadn’t seen the Raven in over an hour, which was the longest it had gone absent. Amanda looked up at a long climb of a particularly tall hillside and saw bright sunlight cresting the top. Her legs were aching, and she had to crawl up the steep embankment.
As Amanda ascended, a patch of dirt exploded into the air five-feet in front of her. She lurched sideways onto her hip, as the follow-up crack of the gunshot echoed off the green mounds. The ground around her erupted, as bullets popped up the cold earth. Distant bangs bounded into the air, as she processed the realization that several people were sniping at her from the trees below.
She realized how exposed she was and pumped her legs into action. The bolt action rifle bounced against the back of her head, as Amanda made for the top. Her peripheral vision caught a dozen shots hit the ground dangerously close to her. A bullet grazed the inside of her right leg, causing her to take an uncontrolled tumble. The sniper rifle launched off her back and rolled downhill like a pinwheel. Amanda skidded to a halt on her face and crawled behind a large rock. She pressed her back against it, while bullets bounced off the grey stone. The ricocheting slugs peppered her with gravel and she slid her injured leg closer for inspection. The wound was superficial but hurt like someone was still cutting into her leg.
Among the gunfire, a louder bursting sound filled the Highlands and caused the snipers to stop their assault. A massive explosion went off fifty feet away. The ordnance jarred her teeth and sent a shockwave through her body. The sound deafened her and surrounded her with smoke and dust.
Confused by the concussion, she felt earth beneath her fall away. Amanda tumbled downwards into darkness, bouncing chaotically off dirt walls and building momentum. The descent angled, and pitched her headfirst down a steep embankment. She scooted along the cavern, and her coat and pants scooped up loose soil.
Suddenly she was free-falling once again, only to splash down into warm water. Her head was under for several seconds before the buoyancy in her backpack lifted her to the surface. Sputtering and dog-paddling in pitch blackness, her hands found a dirt shelf to hold onto. Steadying herself, Amanda freed her soaked backpack and threw it onto the dry land. With all her remaining strength, she lifted herself up out of the water and rolled onto her side.
After a few minutes, she reached out and hugged her backpack. As she held it tight, Amanda let go of her emotions and sobbed. She thought about her murdered husband, kidnapped kids, and poor Peyton Greum, who was shot right in front of her. She lamented her friend Josh, who, like Ian, was most likely dead because of her. Amanda pounded the earth with her fist and screamed in rage.
From the pitch blackness came the call of the Raven. She rose up to a seated position and stared out into the pitch dark. Amanda wasn’t sure which area of space the noise had come from, but it sobered her up to the moment. She searched her stolen pack until she felt a metal cylinder. With a click, the flashlight came to life and illuminated the massive cavern around her.
She was in a chamber that was half-filled with water, and the other half was a rocky shelf. The walls were dugout, with visible shovel marks. Two tunnels were leading out, one to the north and one to the south. She slowly stood up, taking care not to put too much weight on her injured leg.
Amanda flashed the light down each tunnel. The southern way had a stairway that went upwards, and to the north had a hallway that took her deeper down into the earth. She moved to the archway to the south and saw a sliver of light flowing down. It was faint, but her heart was glad to see an escape to the surface.
As she put a foot upon the first stone step, from behind her came the protest of the Raven. Turning she shined the light on the north tunnel. Amanda saw no sign of the bird. She examined the sides of the archway and noticed druidic symbols etched into the stone. Cobwebs decorated empty torch sconces all along the cavern.
She whispered in disbelief, “There is no way that bird is down here.”
Amanda limped her way over to the north tunnel and shined the light down the sloping passage. Something at the bottom was reflecting off her flashlight and causing a kaleidoscope of reflections to bounce onto the walls. Fascinated by the dazzling light display, she slowly worked down the narrow corridor to investigate. As she reached the bottom, she saw the floor was made of carved rock and was covered in loose jewels. Rubies, diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds were scattered all around the ten-foot-wide chamber. On the walls was an etched drawing of a crown with a long sword behind it. The stone in the room was worked smooth, and torch sconces flanked the door. Directly in front of her was an altar made of granite.
She stepped forward, and the torches sprang to life. Amanda gave out a little yell in fright, as she turned towards them. Flames licked the top of the tan stone ceiling, and the gems reflected the light into magnificent lines upon her face.
A woman’s voice from behind her said, “Thou hast entered the shrine of the Once and Future King.”
Pain shot through her leg as she spun around too fast. Standing behind the altar was a black-haired woman wearing a midnight corset. A black dress spread out to the ground and had glimmering diamonds woven into the fabric that caused her gown to glow in the light. Her bare arms were pale white, with arcane marks drawn with coal into the soft flesh. The woman’s lips were thin and red, and her eyes were a vibrant green.
Amanda fell into her gaze and was lost in the calm pools of emerald. The fear she felt dissipated, and a sensation of peace and tranquility came over her. She righted herself and approached the altar.
The woman regarded Amanda’s leg, “Thou art hurt. Jarrah, attend her.”
A tiny fairy sprang up onto her shoulder. It was no taller than three inches and had a set of purple prismatic butterfly wings on its back. It held aloft a twig, wrapped in leather strips, and flew up into the air. Amanda had trouble keeping track of the miniature person until it landed on the altar. It straightened its gold and blue robes and proudly strolled towards her. It said something in such a low voice; she thought it sounded like a buzzing of a bee. With its freehand, it threw a sparkling collection of dust into the
air. The granules floated for an instant and then migrated over to her leg. The particles settled onto her wound, and within seconds she felt the pain disappearing. She reached down and pulled back the torn pant legging to reveal the skin had completely healed.
Still, under the calming effects of the woman’s stare, she managed, “Thank you.”
Jarrah pitched one leg back and gave a deep bow, as Amanda asked, “Who are you?”
The woman clasped her hands together and replied, “Morgan le Fay, half-sister to King Arthur Pendragon, who’s spirit liveth still on the island Avalon.”
Amanda felt her heart race, “The Morgan le Fay. That’s impossible, it’s a myth.”
Jarrah sprang up off the stone and fluttered about her face. He grabbed another handful of powder and blew it onto her nose. Instinctively, Amanda breathed in and suddenly felt a flush. Heat built up in her cheeks, and a light-headed feeling took over. She looked up at Morgan and found the walls behind her had vanished. Amanda was standing in a beautiful grove of lush trees with fruit ripe and ready to be picked.
A stag stepped out from behind a large willow tree and stood boldly beside Morgan. The animal had yellow flowers growing out of the antlers, and green vines grew out of its fur. The beast reared up on its hind legs, and its upper body started to shift its form. The animal ceased to look like a deer and now gave the appearance of the half-man she saw in her vision at Thomas Booth’s house.
Her eyes were filled with wonder, as she whispered, “Cernunnos.”
Morgan gave a bow to the god and then replied to Amanda, “Welcome to Avalon. The Green Man brought thee to me. The time hath joined, and the evil trumpets ring. The champion of Cernunnos hath arrived ‘i the morn, just as the bodement foretold.”
Amanda shook her head, “Champion of what? I need him to tell me where my children are.”
Her green eyes rested on her for a moment, then replied, “Only a Knight of the Round Table tenders the blood of their loved ones for the freedom of the people. Only Raven’s Sight can find thy children. Only an anointed warrior, touched by Excalibur, can swear the oath to vanquish the god that lay sleeping.”
