Dustfall, Book Five - What Lies Beneath

by J. Thorn

  The two men stumbled onwards through the alleyway, and as Rav’s leg screamed at him, that alleyway seemed to go on forever.

  Chapter 34

  Ruk stopped in the alleyway at the bottom of the metal stairwell. Two dozen of her most formidable warriors surrounded her. They spread out, watching the different passages that led from the wide alley at the back of the houses. A few of the structures had long since crumbled into the earth while most remained almost as they’d stood hundreds of years ago. For some reason, the city dwellers had decided the fate of the buildings through simple neglect. Why they’d preserved some but not others was not of her concern. Once her goal had been reached, she’d be leading the Valk back into their darkened, underground quarters. She almost hoped time would take the rest of the city with it.

  She crouched at the bottom of the steps and placed her hand flat into the dirt, touching the disturbed ground.

  “One of his favorites was here. I sense him.”

  She glanced up at the nearest warrior, a tall man and pale like all of the others, but fresh blood smeared his face.

  “Your scout was correct,” he said.

  Then she frowned and moved her hand across the ground, her fingers curling into the dirt. “Though, he was not alone, and he is still injured. I can see now. He limps, and he was assisted by another one that came from above.” She looked up the steps. “The archer that your scout mentioned. He is another of Jonah's favorites.”

  Ruk stood, glanced in all directions and then turned to the tall warrior. “How long ago did they come this way?”

  The warrior stepped forward. “Our scouts say within the hour.”

  “Unfortunate.” Ruk grumbled beneath her breath. “They will likely already be back with Jonah by now. Such a shame. I'd wished to apprehend them separately. They may have been useful in providing information.”

  Her eyes followed the footprints leading toward the center of the city. “We will follow them, nonetheless.” She started to pace along the alleyway, stepping past piles of rubble and rusted trash cans. Her warriors moved swiftly past her, securing the alleyways that jutted off the main path behind the buildings.

  “What would you have us do with the Cygoa, my mistress?” asked the warrior, nodding in respect. “They approach now, moving across the open ground beyond the southern barricades. Soon they will be at the city limits.”

  “We have more reserves in the forest, do we not?”

  “We do, my mistress,” said the warrior. “As per your command. And numerous others spread out in the woods to harry their approach.”

  “Do not hurry Jonah’s people to battle any further.” Ruk scanned the buildings all the way to the horizon. “I don’t want them so tired that they cannot fight. We have Jonah trapped in the middle of the city and his people are retreating ever more inward. The clans and Jonah are something that will be dealt with soon, but for now let us concentrate on the Cygoa. I wouldn’t wish to give them any reason to slow their movement into the city.”

  “As you wish,” said the warrior.

  “Good.” Ruk grinned, her blackened teeth glistening with saliva. “Also, it is time to move some of our warriors into hiding. Let many of the Cygoa pass. Let them believe they are attacking us from behind, and that we are in a weakened state.”

  Chapter 35

  The sun shone down with a dazzling brilliance that seemed to mock their situation. The creatures had emerged from the darkened depths of the earth and yet they stood beneath a clear sky that would have been welcomed during any apple harvest.

  They could see the central plaza by the time a half dozen Valk warriors appeared from a side alley, blocking the way forward. Ghafir acted before Rav could say anything, taking his arm from around him and grabbing for an arrow, the bow in his other hand faster than Rav could draw his ax. With his friend’s support gone, Rav lurched a step to the side, but managed to steady himself. The pain seized the wounds, his leg throbbing as though the injury had only happened the day before. But he fought through it, gritting his teeth and hefting his ax.

  Rav took a step forward and readied himself. Three of the Valk warriors had fallen before Rav closed on the group. They grasped at the arrows embedded in their chests, but as Rav had feared, Ghafir had run out of arrows, and now threw the bow over his shoulder, grabbing the javelin from his back. Rav had always thought it a strange weapon to use in hand to hand combat, but he'd seen Ghafir use it to stunning effect. It was meant to be thrown, a missile no longer than four feet long, and Rav had suggested many times that the man replace it with a full—length spear. But this javelin that Ghafir used was different than the others he’d seen. The warrior had sharpened both ends to a razor point and used it to stab back and forth, spinning the short weapon with his wrist.

  The other three Valk rushed them, and Rav saw that more had followed them into the alleyway ahead. They had not been swift enough, he thought, had either been caught up or these Valk were coming from a different part of the city. That must be it for he had seen the movement of Valk far behind them, and they had managed to keep well ahead of it.

  They must be filling the streets by now, he thought, but the ones behind were still far enough away. No, these came from another direction, and if they did not fight their way through this swiftly, they would be cut off from the others.

  Rav dodged a heavy swing from a club, smacking the man across the face with the head of the ax. He didn’t have enough time to swing properly, but this was still effective. The man's nose exploded in a spray of blood and he staggered back. At the edge of his vision, Rav saw another warrior leap toward Ghafir, but the man dodged a wild attack, and his return strike took his enemy in the throat with a swift jab, quickly reversed as Ghafir leapt sideways, twisted his wrist, and jabbed out at another enemy. He took this one — who was charging toward Rav — under the armpit. The man fell sideways, screaming and dropping his spear.

  Rav lunged forward while his opponent thrust the head of a spear at him. The warrior wasn’t expecting the move, and Rav kicked down at his opponent’s knee before he could pull the spear back and strike. There was a satisfying crunch as the man’s knee collapsed backward, causing the warrior to fall. Rav swung his ax as the man went down, striking him below the neck, then another strike that cleaved the warrior’s helmet almost in two. The body twitched on the ground and then stopped moving.

  Then, Rav was running with a stilted gait, following Ghafir across the alleyway. There were more Valk warriors approaching, but at that moment they had a gap they could get through as the newcomers stumbled around their fallen comrades. Rav lumbered forward, swinging his ax as Valk warriors pushed into the alley. Ahead of him, Ghafir moved swiftly, striking as he went, preventing the alleyway from becoming blocked once more.

  Rav’s leg screamed at him, the pain almost unbearable, but he knew if he gave in, he would be trapped. All he had to do was bear the pain a little longer.

  Onwards he went, pushing forward, swinging his ax high to come crashing down on the shoulders of another Valk warrior. He felt the man's metal armor collapse with a wet crunch. The man screamed, but he was not dead, and the warrior kicked out with a boot, slamming into Rav's wounded leg. He staggered backwards, knocking another Valk over, but then found that this clumsy assault had pushed him clear of the enemy, and on to the other side of the alleyway. He staggered and almost fell into the space beyond.

  “Ghafir!” he shouted.

  The younger, more agile man broke away from the line of warriors. He leapt over two fallen Valk, thrusting his javelin out toward another that was moving to close the space between them. The sharp point of his javelin took the man through the gap in the front of his helm and the man fell backward, knocking over two other Valk.

  Then they were free, hurrying down the alleyway, breaking away from the Valk assault. Rav could see that they were now no more than a hundred yards away from the barrier that protected the main plaza, and he pushed himself, ignoring the pain.

  “
They aren’t following,” said Ghafir, who ran behind him.

  Rav glanced back, and saw that the Valk had filled the alleyway, but had not made a move to follow them. A dozen heavily armored warriors huddled close together, completely blocking the passage, pale faces gleaming in the sunlight. Cries came from the defenses above and yet it seemed as though time had slowed, distorting the sounds of battle as if they originated from the bottom of a deep lake.

  Then, as he hurried forward, he glanced back once more, and slowed. A Valk, unlike the others, had stepped through the line which parted and closed behind it. The figure was shorter by far, maybe not much taller than five and a half feet, thinner, and dressed in furs and dark cloth instead of heavy armor. More feminine, Rav thought. She smiled at him, her teeth sharpened and dark and her eyes staring right through his. He hesitated, caught between a primal revulsion of the beast and an undeniable curiosity about it.

  Ghafir reached for his quiver but then cursed, out of arrows. Rav pulled at the man’s shoulder, dragging him away and urging him onward, but still he watched the line of warriors and the mysterious Valk.

  It was definitely a woman, Rav thought, something he had never seen before. And even stranger — some of the warriors were staring at the ground instead of looking ahead, and others had bowed their heads as if she was someone to be feared.

  She was looking directly at him now, grinning, but no friendliness in the smile. Her eyes gleamed, seeming to almost reflect the violence and bloodshed in the streets. Again, he felt the almost magnetic pull of her gaze.

  “Who the hell was that?” Ghafir stammered as he grabbed Rav under the armpit again, the two stumbling forward.

  “I don't know.” Rav coughed. The ache in his leg was returning now that the adrenaline of the fight had worn off. Ghafir’s words and his intensifying pain had snapped him from the creature’s spell.

  “They fear her,” said Ghafir. “Did you see them bowing?”

  “Yes.”

  Rav could hear that his friend was breathing heavily, an unusual thing to hear from one of the fittest and most agile men that he had ever known. Ghafir could run for miles, barely breaking a sweat.

  “Some sort of leader,” said Ghafir.

  The barrier was now only fifty feet away, and Rav could see that it was twice the height of a man with no sign of a gate built into the wall. It filled the entire gap between the buildings, blocking the alley, a sheer metal wall with no means of entry. Half a dozen clan warriors stood on a platform behind it, and more than one had a bow. As they approached, one raised his bow and took a sight on them. Rav raised his arm and waved, and the man seemed to recognize that they were not Valk and lowered his weapon.

  “A rope.” Rav waved his arm back and forth at the men above, doing his best to signify the urgency of the situation. “Quickly, they’re coming.”

  The guards on the barricade seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then one of them threw a rope down and Ghafir helped Rav scramble up it, then followed him.

  Rav stood on the walkway and turned to look back down at the alleyway. She stood there again, just out of bow range but in front of the line of warriors that blocked the alleyway. The horde behind her continued to swell into the hundreds.

  She is judging the defense, he thought. She’s deciding whether or not to attack. This Valk warrior was not like others. Rav had felt her presence, her power. Even at this range she’d been able to hold his attention.

  Then she shook her head and pointed to a side alley a few yards away, turned, and walked into it. Behind her, the line of warriors marched, not heading down the alley toward the defense, but instead marching out of the alleyway and following the woman.

  “There must be two hundred of them,” he heard Ghafir say.

  “Yes,” said Rav.

  He needed to find Jonah. There was something important about this woman.

  Chapter 36

  They had reached the main gates of the compound when Leta raised her arm and brought the mass of people following her to a halt. They gathered behind her, a hundred of them at least, and stood. Many looked around, puzzled, while others shuffled from foot to foot. They’d been able to get out of the compound and to the primary entry point of the city but it wasn’t easy. Some of them struggled walking from one room to the next, let alone running for their lives.

  She needed to get them back to Jonah and the other clan folk, and it was maybe only a few blocks through the ruins to the first of the barricades. But as she watched the first of the Valk emerge from the ruins ahead of the crowded people, she felt a surge of dread in her stomach. The stories of old, the tales of their sickening ways. None of that could adequately describe the pit forming in her stomach as she stood in the presence of the Valk.

  Several of the warriors had already taken trophies, wearing severed fingers around their necks. Blood smeared their white faces but could not extinguish the utter blackness in their eyes. The Valk, she thought, had been cursed long ago and would forever be marked by the dark powers of the universe.

  They would not make it, not past the damned things blocking their path. She had picked up a broken, plastic broom that been cast aside probably hundreds of years earlier. As they made their way around the grounds of the base, some of the others had managed to find sticks and other discarded tools to defend themselves with, but Leta knew it would not be enough to fight off fully armed Valk warriors.

  It would be a slaughter. She looked around, trying to decide if they could pull back into the base, but the Valk had appeared behind them as well, already moving through the buildings and the high grass like grotesque hunters.

  There weren't any other options, she thought. This is it. This is where we stand. And where we will fall. She sighed deeply and gripped the broom’s shaft. It was terribly inefficient as a weapon, but she swore she would take at least one of those things with her to her grave.

  Others around her saw what was coming, forming ranks — a futile defensive wall to face a superior enemy. The Valk approached from all directions, moving swiftly through the grass, crouching low, as though to hide even though they were clearly visible in the bright sunlight. The odor coming off the invading force made Leta want to wretch, thinking that death would be a welcome relief from the sight and smell of these god—forsaken creatures.

  Several approached, no more than twenty feet away when she heard the noise. It came from behind them, back toward the base. A loud reverberating bang that she had heard before at the battle of the Causeway. It had been in the camp.

  Could it be Seren? she thought. Another bang rang out, followed by another, and then she could hear growling. The Valk in front of her stopped and then started to back away, two dozen of them taking steps back towards the ruins instead of continuing to advance on them.

  A series of shouts came from behind as Leta left her position and pushed her way through the crowd, toward the back. Then her mouth dropped open as she saw the Valk fleeing in all directions, rushing for the fences that they had climbed over. There must've been a hundred of them, but they fell faster than they could run. Seren stood on the blacktop, the gun that she had used in the battle raised and firing at the fleeing enemy. Leta spotted a single Valk laying on the ground, struggling to get away from an angry Sorcha, but the wolf tore at the warrior’s metal armor, ripping it away piece by piece before finally lunging, taking the struggling man by the throat.

  And they weren’t’ alone. More than a dozen people from the base arrived — the ones who'd worn gray uniforms and black, plastic looking armor. Each of them raised a weapon even more furious than the gun that Seren had fired. These were not held in one hand, like Seren’s, but were much larger weapons that required both hands, and fired more rapidly.

  The Valk continued to fall as they fled, cut down by whatever invisible missiles the weapons launched, again and again until none remained on their feet. Barely a dozen of the Valk warriors had reached the outer fence, and not one of them managed to climb over as the loud weapon
s carried by the base people rained death upon them.

  “Leta,” Seren said. She hurried over. “Are you ok?”

  “Yes.” Leta felt her heart thumping in her chest. The guns terrified her with the swiftness of death that they dealt, and the noise was tremendous, like a storm. “I thought we were all dead.”

  “Not today. Come on, we need to get moving.” The girl hurried past her, and around the crowd, the warriors from the base following her swiftly. “We need to hurry if we are to stop the battle,” she called back over her shoulder.

  Leta hurried to keep up but couldn't, and realized that she didn’t need to now. Keep the older ones together, she thought, as Seren sprinted through the gates. Sorcha flashed past, a bolt of white fur faster than any human.

  “Come on,” Leta said. “Let’s follow!”

  The crowd surged forward, hurrying after her even though some were too old to run very fast.

  As they reached the gate, other figures rushed by and she frowned. These people hadn’t been with her, but they looked like clansmen. Then she saw Gideon and his friends hurrying through the crowd, many of them carrying large shields that she didn't recognize — they were see—through, as though they could be made of glass. They also carried long sticks of black metal.

  The young ones, she thought. The ones who went in with us. There were all armed now, with weapons that must have been manufactured centuries ago. How a glass shield could be of help she had no idea, but maybe they weren't glass? She knew that in ancient times people had made things that seemed impossible now.

  Leta took a deep breath, realizing that she had been holding her entire body in a stiff manner, waiting for death to arrive. Could it be possible? Were the base people going to help them? Fight alongside them with their weapons of thunder? With this thought, Leta hurried onwards, trying to catch up as a feeling of hope swam over her.