by S T Branton
“Get the bark!” Jayna yelled. “It’s like armor. Get the bark!” She ripped at it furiously, and the tree screamed. Its branches pinwheeled in a desperate attempt to pry us off before she could inflict permanent damage.
Around us, the Vikings raised a cry. The leaders of the caravan lifted their weapons and shook them so the flames danced. Righteous anger burned in their eye, alongside the promise of vengeance. But the Weres refused to be deterred, and Jerry’s comrades were forced to retreat.
The tree-beasts lumbered with them in great, long strides through the woods. Jayna released the lattice of deep scars she’d made, and we stood together to make sure no one turned around. Bodies—mostly Vikings and humans—clogged the trail. Off to the side, at least one of the trees had been felled. It sprawled among its brethren, twisted and grotesque. The bark flaked off in black sheets.
Jayna looked at me, still in Were form. “Thanks,” she said. “You really helped me out there.” Her ears folded down timidly against her great lupine head. I resisted the urge to pat her muzzle.
“It’s what we’re here for,” I told her. “There’s no way I could’ve gotten to you if Amber didn’t cover my ass the whole time. Never forget, we work as a team when the fight’s on. You’ll come out fine as long as you remember that.”
I waded out of the brush and beelined for the cart with my shredded jacket draped over it. A tarp had been tied down for some added protection over the contents. I peeled it back to reveal a pile of heavy-duty crates.
“Well, well,” I mused. “What have we got here?” I wedged my fingers into a space in the slats and pried the top of the crate apart.
Christmas had come early. With a massive, shit-eating grin on my face, I peeked into all the other crates in the cart. Each one was full to the brim with assault rifles and the corresponding ammunition.
“Woohoo!” Amber whooped. I glanced down the line at her and saw she’d unearthed similar loot. “We hit the mother lode, you guys!”
“No kidding.” Carefully, I closed my crates as best I could and retied the tarp on top. The remains of my jacket adorned my shoulders as a badge of honor after a successful supply outing. “I have a feeling this stuff will come in very handy.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
We walked the convoy and its hard-won contents back to the church after hauling the bodies into the woods off the trail. Several of the carts had been damaged in the fight, so the going was slow, but the crates survived, and that was what mattered. I cringed a little as I considered how much fire had been thrown around inches away from live ammunition, but we’d all made it out in one piece. Amber practically danced the whole way home. She couldn’t wait to take inventory.
“They’re gonna be so pissed when they find out this cargo isn’t coming through,” she said gleefully.
I looked at the array of boxes. Now that they were in our hands, I could be thankful there were so many. But the sheer volume concerned me. “I’m not sure I want to know why those fuckers needed to be so well armed, though.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Amber advised. “This stuff’s ours now.” She crowbarred the nearest crate open and lifted out boxes of ammo. “Oh man, this is going to help so much.”
“Do you know where I can find the radio room?” I asked. The size of our spoils meant that sorting through it would likely take hours, and I didn’t want to get caught up in it. I’d left poor Luis hanging long enough.
“Huh?” She blinked at me and processed the question. “The radio? It’s up in the bell tower. The door to the staircase is right behind the main altar. Go straight back through the sanctuary.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Catch you later. I need to contact some people.”
She waved absently. “Good luck. The signal’s not bad up there, but it’s been a little finicky lately. I hope it doesn’t give you too much trouble.”
I took the hand radio out of my pocket as I cut through the bustle in the sanctuary. The indoor scene reminded me a lot of Fort Victory, although not quite as organized. The church’s residents sat in groups, talking, eating, and laughing together. Children chased each other across the barren floor. Outside the few windows that hadn’t been sealed to keep out the cold, I spotted Smitty’s Weres on patrol. He’d really built a good thing for himself and Amber out in this creepy forest. I was glad for them.
The tower staircase, narrow and spiraling, looked like a set piece from a gothic movie. If I stood in the center of the ground floor and tilted my head all the way back, the massive maw of the bell yawned above me, its clapper the pupil in a great, dark eye.
Quite a feat of architecture, Marcus commented. Clearly a remnant of purer times.
“Yeah,” I retorted. “Accusing random people of witchcraft and then burning them at the stake was super pure. I bet there’s a god or two who are pretty mad about that one.”
In my experience, there is little the gods are not angry about, Marcus said.
The climb up was long but not too difficult. I took the shallow steps two or three at a time. When I reached the top, the bell loomed above my head and a rope as thick as my arm dangled from the clapper. The juvenile urge to ring it as loud as possible gnawed at my insides. I actually reached for the rope, but pulled my hand back at the last minute.
“They’d probably think the world was ending,” I told myself out loud. “It’d be worse than pulling a fire alarm.”
To be fair, the world is ending, in a way, Marcus said. Not that I condone this mischief.
“If you stood here, you would’ve pulled the shit out of it,” I said and smirked. “We both know the truth.”
I reserve the right to say absolutely nothing.
I scanned the round, open chamber until I spotted the radio tucked against a low wall. It was much smaller and less elaborate than ours, but its basic interface was the same. A pair of ancient headphones, held together with tape, sat on top of the wall beside the device. I leaned beside them and raised the smaller talk-box to my face.
“Come in,” I said. “Anyone out there?” The channel was already synced with Luis. I hoped he wasn’t sleeping or distracted.
“Loud and clear,” came his response after a brief pause. “I began to think you ended up in some bizarre fourth dimension. Fill me in, chief.”
He got the lowdown on our current plan. “The long and short of it is, I’m stuck waiting,” I said. “As soon as I get word from the away team I’ll let you know where we’re headed.” I felt bad that I forced the kid to wait, but the work couldn’t be exciting all the time. “Cross your fingers that it won’t be long.”
“We’re cool,” Luis told me. “We’ve kept busy. I have a few new rides on standby when you need ʼem.”
I smiled. “Awesome. You’re the best.”
“I know,” he said. “Keep in touch, all right?”
“Will do.” I slipped the radio into my pocket and turned to the well-used headphones, put them on gingerly, and twisted the tuning dial. Twenty seconds of snow buzzed in my ears. “Come on,” I muttered. “She’s got to be around here somewhere.”
“—and remember to report everything you see, people. Collective vigilance is what keeps us alive out here. We can’t afford to let our guard down.” Namiko’s voice crackled over the air. Her cheerful tone was undercut by a deadly serious subtext.
I pressed the button. “Namiko? It’s Vic.”
“Hey! I wondered when I’d hear from you again. What’s going on where you are? Nothing too awful, I hope.”
“Actually, things have recently taken a turn for the better,” I said. “I’m in Washington with Smitty’s camp.” I gave her the most efficient version of the details and ended on our supply coup. “I’m trying not to be too concerned about what that means for the scale of the operation we’re fighting against, but the thought is there. You know how it goes.”
“Yeah.” She laughed wryly. “Yeah, I do. Anything you need from me?”
I tapped my fingers idly on the large plastic cup of
the earphone. “Can you patch me through to the fort, please? I want to give the girls a status update.”
“Sure thing. I can’t guarantee the reception quality, but at least you’ll get through.”
“We’ll manage,” I said. A flurry of clicks and whirrs rushed into the earpiece. The channel dissolved into static and reformed. The next thing I heard was a chorus of two of my favorite voices.
“Hello? Vic?” I could picture Maya and Jules huddled in chairs around the clunky fort radio, their heads leaned together over the speaker. The image made me smile wider.
“Hey, you two,” I said. “I’m checking in. How are things on your end?”
“They’re good!” Maya sounded as chipper as ever, which I was happy for. I needed her spirits to be high. “We heard from Frank and Steph earlier today too if you can believe that. They said they’re on their way back.”
I arched my eyebrows. “Really? I wonder what they found.”
“Beats me,” Maya said. “You know Steph. She’s not much of a talker.”
“Even to you?” I asked.
“What?” Maya frowned. “I think we exchanged a total of three sentences.”
I shook my head. “Never mind.”
“I don’t get it,” Maya said. “Anyway, supplies are stable. We’re eating well. It’s as cold as hell every night now, so preserving food is way less of a problem for the moment.”
“Everyone’s still happy for the most part,” Jules added. “They’ve asked about you a couple times. I think the general consensus is that the fort is safest when you’re here. But Veronica hasn’t mentioned major unrest, and so far, there haven’t been any riots. We’re locked into the idea of wintering here.”
I nodded. “There’s bound to be some cabin fever, especially as the weather freezes over. I had some itchy feet myself before I left. But as long as they’re all committed to ensuring the safety of the group, I think we’ll come out the other side fine.”
“If no one gets sick,” Maya pointed out. “V and I are in the process of arranging another pharmacy run. I’d like to stock up on everything we can before cold and flu season hits. Germs will spread like the damn devil in here.”
“Good idea.” I sat down on the wall. “It sounds like you guys are all kicking serious butt back there. I’m proud of you.”
“What about in Washington?” Jules asked. “Is everyone okay?” A subtle note of urgency rang in the question. I had a sneaking suspicion that I knew whom she was most curious about.
“Yeah,” I replied, a little teasingly. “Smitty and Amber are amazing. You should see the outfit they’re running here. It’s in a church.”
“Oh. Oh, that’s great!” Jules tried hard to disguise the disappointment in her words. I felt a pang of guilt. “A church might creep me out at night, though. It sounds spooky.”
“Brax is okay too,” I told her. “He even smiled a few times yesterday.” I conveniently left out the violent reason why.
“Wow,” said Jules. “That’s unusual.” Even over the distance and the shoddy signal, which grew worse by the second, I knew she was flustered. The blush almost registered on the radio readout. She said something else after that, but it cut out after the first syllable.
Namiko replaced her in the headphones. “Things are starting to break up,” she said. The sentence crackled. “We’ve got to go.”
“Hey.” Jules came in one more time. “Can you tell—” The static overtook the last part of her sentence. She paused and tried again. “Tell—” Again, nothing but snow followed.
I smiled slightly, and on the off chance that she could still hear me, I said, “Okay, I’ll tell Brax you want to go to prom with him.” An incoherent snippet of her voice popped through the noise. It sounded like she might be yelling. Then the channel cut out completely. I chuckled, removed the headset carefully, and stepped away from it to walk to the other side of the chamber and enjoy the view. A thin, cold mist blanketed the trees in soft gray. This high up, my eyes traced the scars left in the land by Oxylem and the Vikings. Evidence of the fires stood out despite the fog.
Oxylem has committed grave atrocities out of fear, Marcus mused. But I still feel sadness for the way he must have suffered at his own hand. I have no doubt the remorse described by Jerry was genuine.
It was hard to wrap my brain around the idea of a god shedding tears as he worked to destroy the land he loved. The more it stuck in my head, the less I wanted to think about it. I took a deep breath of the crisp, wild air and focused my eyes far out on the murky horizon. Tiny droplets of condensed water clung to my skin and clothes. “What a gorgeous place,” I said. “But kind of damp, though.”
“I hate it,” someone grunted at my back. “Give me dry heat any day. I don’t care if it’s a hundred and twenty degrees in the shade.” Brax propped himself up in the corner to my left.
“I figured you’d hate that kind of weather more than this,” I said. “Because of Asphodel.”
“I’m not saying I love it,” he answered. “But it’s easier to tolerate than this. It feels like I’m soaked all the time.” He stared out at the view. “Nice country, I guess. I mean the part that doesn’t have all the fucked-up trees.”
I swallowed my smile. “Right.” He fell silent and held his trademark tough-guy pose. Droplets beaded on his glasses and he eventually took them off and scowled as he stuck them into a pocket. I made sure not to stare at his naked face. “Hey, Brax, can I ask you a question? You don’t have to answer, but I’ve wondered about it.”
“What?” he asked flatly. He was obviously not thrilled, but he didn’t say no.
“Laurel’s baby,” I began, somewhat hesitantly. “Why’d you save her?”
“We already talked about this,” he answered gruffly but didn’t look at me.
“Not really,” I said. “You told me you were reminded of something, and that was it. I know there must be a story there.”
“And let me guess, you want to hear it?” He glanced my way expectantly.
“Only if you want to tell it,” I said as gently as I thought he’d allow.
For a few moments, the demon said nothing. Then he shuffled his way over to a place where he could sit and heaved a sigh. “You humans get fixated on the weirdest shit,” he told me. “All right. Whatever. Here you go.”
Chapter Thirty
I didn’t join Brax right away. He was clearly out of his comfort zone, and I wanted to give him his space. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and studied his clasped hands. Whenever his black eyes caught the light, they sparkled slightly, like multifaceted jewels.
“I don’t know how long ago it was.” He spoke after a long period of solemn contemplation. “Phoenician empire, maybe. It would’ve been ancient times for your kind. You were only learning how to write and all that shit.” He chuckled to himself. “Anyway, it barely matters. Once upon a time, let’s say, I got out of Asphodel and they couldn’t catch me. Whether they forgot, or they decided to not give a shit, or they were so mad their damn heads exploded, I don’t care. All I know is, I was out for a long time.”
“Got it,” I said.
He nodded. “In the beginning, it was impossible to enjoy freedom, even though I loved it. The feeling of going anywhere I wanted, whenever I wanted, with no one looking over my shoulder? There’s nothing like it in this world or the next. But I was a fugitive, and I was never sure who lurked around the next corner. I was paranoid.” His dark gaze flicked to me. “I had to be. If Kronin had sent anyone to chase my sorry ass down, I knew exactly who he would have chosen.” He paused to give me a sharp look. “Would you sit down? You’re making me fucking nervous standing there.”
“Sorry,” I said. He shifted to make a space for me, and I took it.
Brax resumed his story. “The guy’s name was Belen. I called him Bell End later, which he did not appreciate.”
That is extremely disrespectful, Marcus cut in. Belen was not the head of a phallus.
“If you have
n’t guessed, he filled the same spot as your invisible buddy, only years before. I wish I could say he loved Kronin less, but I think he might’ve loved him more. He was a real zealot. And a real asshole.” Brax rubbed his jaw and his brow furrowed at the memory.
This slander is heinous, but I shall bear it to hear the demon’s tale.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he clarified. “Belen was good at the things that made him valuable to Kronin. He was supremely confident, shrewd, and strong in battle and in mind. What he lacked was integrity. He’d skin me alive as soon as he’d throw me back into Asphodel if he was given the opportunity to choose. Hell, I’m sure he wanted to. Kronin had to keep him on a tight leash, or else he’d be ruthless.”
I listened for Marcus’s commentary. This time, the centurion stayed quiet. “You stayed away from him,” I said.
Brax shrugged. “He never showed up. I spent years constantly on the lookout and expected to see his smug, sneering face bear down on me at any second. It never happened, and the longer time went on, the more I relaxed. I let myself think I’d finally done it, and I gave myself permission to roam freely over the world. Or as freely as possible, anyway. I still wasn’t able to interact with humans, on account of all this.” He made a vague motion that encompassed his blatantly demonic features. “And I couldn’t risk stirring up trouble, so I drifted along in the margins of society and tried to ignore the void I felt. I was weak.”
“You were lonely,” I suggested
He knit his brows. “Same thing. I didn’t think I’d want any sort of companionship after the way I was treated in Asphodel. It hit me hard.” He hesitated. “And then one day, I was hiking through the mountains on another one of my long walks to nowhere, and I heard this terrible scream straight out of hell. To this day, I can’t say why, but I went to investigate. I found this woman cornered by a mountain lion. This was back when they were huge, and they had giant fangs.”
“Saber teeth,” I said.
“Yeah, close enough to it anyway. She was about three seconds from getting ripped apart. I jumped in and got torn up instead.” He grimaced. “It was a stupid thing to do. She didn’t have a scratch on her, but I was hurt. She said she couldn’t leave me like that. And she took me in.”
