The Last Line Series One

by David Elias Jenkins

  Ariel crouched down at one of the corpses at his feet. It was wearing the remnants of a police uniform and a badge that said Deputy Coulson. The corpse was a desiccated husk, skin leathery and dry, eyes sucked out and mouth frozen in a grimace of terror. Puncture marks dotted his skin, their edges angry and raw. Ariel swallowed hard and struggled to find his voice.

  “When I was a student at Oxford. The archaeological dig I was on outside Basra. The first thing I ever saw come over from the Unseelie side. Killed everyone in my group. Except me.”

  Ariel looked up at Usher and his eyes glimmered with fear.

  “Vampire.”

  Usher peered out into the mist that hung around the town. “Like the thing we fought last year? Like Mr Styx?”

  Ariel stood up and shook his head.

  “No Thom. Vampirism is a spectrum, with Mr Styx that we fought on the most human end of that spectrum. What we have here is what I suspect lies at the furthest other end of that spectrum. The least human end.”

  Isaac leaned on his wooden crutch to ease the pain in his leg and lit a cigarette. “Like autism? Mr Styx was a little socially awkward, but the one’s we’re dealing with here are full on Rain Men?”

  Charlie coughed back a laugh despite their predicament but Ariel just glanced nervously out into the Bloodmist.

  “If by that you mean something who’s only thought is consume you while you’re still alive, liquefying your insides and draining them out through your skin, with no concept of mercy, fear or pain, then yes Isaac, that’s what I mean. Or was that not what you meant?”

  Isaac puffed out his cheeks and blew out a thin stream of nervous smoke. He unconsciously began rubbing the Dreamcatcher around his neck. “Thanks Ariel, you really know how to run with a stressbuster gag.”

  Usher pointed at a large building on the far side of the street. It was riddled with gunfire and the windows were shattered but a sign outside said Police Station.

  “If there are any survivors, that’d be a good place to hole up. Access to firearms, secure entry, communications. Let’s start clearing buildings.”

  Empire One took a minute to finish their glucose bars and ration packs, topping up on valuable energy while they had the time. As they kitted up and readied to move, Jeter tapped his watch. It was an old fashioned but reliable Swiss analogue, an heirloom from a brother killed in action.

  “Since your digital timepieces are a little fried I think, may I point out that we have approximately two hours before our illustrious leaders destroy this entire area with a thaumaturgically powered bomb, us included. I would put forward that speed is of the essence, sir.”

  Usher looked to Ariel. “Noted Jeter. Combine that with the fact that we are most probably already MIA presumed dead, I doubt there’s anyone back at base camp apart from Greystone is too concerned about dropping a bomb here and clearing this whole damn mess up. Ariel, this bomb really as powerful as they say?”

  Ariel nodded. “I don’t help make things that don’t work, Thom. They just aren’t willing to allow this incursion to spread out any further, not after the London attacks. If the scalpel doesn’t work, they’re going to use the sledgehammer.”

  Brock snorted and rolled his massive shoulders as he passed, gripping his battle axe. “Nice to feel valued isn’t it boys? Right, Freya’s never tasted vampire before, and the old girl’s hungry. Shall we?”

  Empire One moved slowly through the mist towards the police station, edged weapons at the ready. As they got within a few metres, a long black tube of metal appeared at the window. Usher shouted out.

  “Gun! Take cover!”

  The shot from the revolver cracked out then was oddly muffled by the mist, like shooting through a pillow. It ricocheted off a car only a foot from where Usher stood. He grimaced but held his ground. The rest of the team gathered behind nearby engine blocks and wheel arches.

  A voice called out from inside the building.

  “Stay back you sons of bitches. I’ll cut you all down!”

  Usher slowly raised his hands. As he did so he made a couple of quick hands signals to his team.

  “Wait! Don’t shoot. We’re human. We’re military. Here to rescue you.”

  A podgy moustachioed face appeared at the window, sweating behind the barrel of the gun. The revolver shook and wavered in his hand, trying to zero in on Usher. His frightened voice drifted out of the broken window.

  “Way you look don’t mean nothing mister. The one that controls them things looked like a man. Looked as much like a man as you do, but he weren’t. He was the godddamed devil.”

  Usher kept his hands up. He tried to slow down his heart rate and keep his voice level.

  After all the things I’ve faced, to end up getting shot by a jittery fat guy. Universe likes a joke I guess.

  “Mister, I urge you to take a cursory glance at me and my men. We are in what in military circles we call a shit state. Does it look like whatever has been out there attacking you is friends with us?”

  Another face appeared at the window, a young woman. She urgently whispered something to the man with the gun. He brushed her off and resumed his focus on Usher.

  “Mister, I don’t much trust what my eyes been telling me today. Seen some things that ought not to be possible. Never fired a shot in seven years before today, but now I’m thinking its best to shoot first and check ID later. So give me one reason why I shouldn’t just put a bullet through you right now?”

  Usher sighed and his aching shoulders sagged a little.

  “I’ll give you two.”

  “Go on.”

  “First one’s called Santiago, second one’s called Jeter. Both very convincing arguments.”

  Usher watched the podgy man’s eyes widen as in the window frame behind him a knife suddenly slipped around his neck and was held against his bobbing Adam’s apple. From the shadows next to his shoulder, Santiago’s dark eyed face drew in close and whispered something in his ear. The man wasted no time and dropped the revolver. Jeter’s pale chiselled face appeared at the window and gave a thumb up to Usher.

  The podgy man grimaced beneath his moustache and stared out at Usher with desperate eyes.

  “You sneaky bastard. Fucking decoy? Is this how you take a man out?”

  Usher lowered his arms and gestured to his team, who moved swiftly up the steps and into the building. Usher nodded to Santiago, who loosened his grip on the man’s throat.

  “No sir, I never usually give that much warning. As I said, though, we’re here to get you out of town safe and sound. Now hold on while I come in and talk with you.”

  Once inside, Empire One took up defensive positions in the building. Usher and Ariel remained in the sergeant’s office with the handful of survivors.

  Usher stepped forward to the podgy man with the moustache.

  “Ok, I guess by your uniform you’re the sheriff here. Wanna give me a status update?”

  The sheriff’s beige shirt was stained with sweat patches and blood. The sour smell of nervous perspiration drifted off him like a warm breeze. He lit up a crooked hand rolled cigarette and inhaled. His hand was trembling.

  “Name’s Daggett, sir. Status update? Fella I don’t even know where to begin. I was hoping you could tell me what’s going on. Government send you? This some kind of military experiment gone wrong?”

  A scrawny young man with a peach fuzz beard and a pronounced limp hobbled forward, his eyes red and sunken.

  “There’s no military experiment Sherriff. You’re wanting a sane answer to a crazy problem and you ain’t gonna get one. I saw those things Sherriff. I saw them. That thing that took my uncle Jake wasn’t from here at all. It came from up in them woods but they weren’t our woods.”

  Ariel produced a pencil and notebook. “I’d like to do a sketch sir, if you can give a full description of the creature please.”

  The young man just stared at Ariel like he was crazy.

  Usher turned to the young man. “What did you see, son?”
>
  The young man glanced sheepishly up at the Sherriff, who nodded to him. “Might as well tell them Billy. Day can’t get any crazier now.”

  The scrawny man wrapped himself up in his big chequered shirt and sniffed up some mucous.

  “Me and my uncle Jake was hunting up in the woods above Carnival. Our mutt went missing. Uncle Jake chased after it. Came to a part of the woods we didn’t recognize. You gotta know mister that there ain’t no parts of them woods up there we don’t know, my family been hunting them for generations.”

  “So you boys know these woods like the back of your hand. Understood. What was different?”

  The young man wiped his running nose and continued.

  “You’re gonna think I been smoking something mister, but it was like the trees in one part was different, like they come from a different place. They were all twisted with faces and hands. I know how that sounds but just look around you. Normal moved out.”

  Usher patted the young man on the shoulder. “Billy, is it? Don’t worry, there’s nothing you’re gonna tell us that we haven’t heard a whole lot crazier. This part of the woods that was different, was there something in the centre of it? Something that stood out?”

  Billy nodded.

  “Yeah. A weird fucking tree that was bigger than all the rest. Looked dead. Big hollow in the centre. I think that’s where these creatures was coming out of. Coming out from underground or something. That’s where all this red mist was coming from. It’s blood you know?”

  Usher nodded. “I know, son. Would you be able to show me where this tree was if we went up into those woods?”

  Billy shook his head and shivered.

  “Yeah, but I ain’t going up there again.”

  The Sherriff cut in.

  “You shouldn’t have been there in the first place Billy. That’s Debruler family land up there, you and your uncle were poaching. You know the old rumours about that family and witchcraft.”

  Billy spat on the floor.

  “So that’s what this is, punishment for poaching a deer, you fat old fuck?”

  Usher raised his hand to calm them down.

  “Debruler? The old mansion up in those woods, that’s where you were?”

  Billy nodded then looked at his feet.

  Usher looked up at the Sherriff.

  “Sherriff that’s where we’re headed. That’s the source of all this and where we can stop it. We need to go there first before we can get you all out of here. But it isn’t going to be easy. Any of you that can use a firearm will be needed. We’d prefer if this was a smooth in and out, but the truth is we’re all backs to the wall here, and we need all hands on deck to fight our way out.”

  The young woman that had attempted to appease the Sherriff at the window stepped forward. She wore a waitress’s outfit on her pin-up figure and had clearly been crying.

  “Sir. There was man. He came in the diner this morning. I…I served him breakfast, but he wasn’t normal. He could do things, horrible things that I know aren’t possible. Do you know what he was?”

  Ariel pushed his cracked spectacles up on his nose and shuffled up to the distraught young woman. “My belief is that he is a Necromancer from a nearby pocket dimension where natural law is different. Madam, these things, would you attribute them to a spontaneous thaumaturgic event?”

  Isaac leaned on his crutch, blew out cigarette smoke and shook his head. “Alright Sheldon, reign it in. I know this is hard for you ma’am and not a lot makes sense. He means magic ma’am, did what this fella could do seem like magic to you?”

  The woman looked in confusion from Ariel to Isaac then nodded.

  “Yes. Yes there isn’t any other word for it. He turned a man into a corpse in front of us all…he just shook his hand and…”

  An athletic young man in a hockey top with floppy dark hair stepped forward and put his arm around the young woman, who had begun to sob again.

  “It was her husband. He was a no good piece of shit and got what her deserved. Don’t worry Gina, I won’t let anything happen to you. Any of those things try to come in here I’ll knock their fucking heads off.”

  Usher looked the young man up and down, took in the nervous bravado of his body language only just keeping the fear at bay.

  “You’ve seen these things, son?”

  The young man chewed gum and sighed.

  “I ain’t your son, general. Name’s Bobby, and yeah I’ve seen a lot of things today. Whacko crazy things. And what I want to know is where the fucking cavalry is?”

  Usher gestured to Empire One. “We’re it Bobby. We’re getting you out of here.”

  Bobby looked at Usher in panic then laughed and spread his hands to the scared and cowering townsfolk behind him.

  “No offence boys. But you look like the A-team in that episode where they all got assfucked.”

  Isaac flicked his cigarette stub onto the green linoleum floor. “Don’t think I saw that episode.”

  Bobby looked the battered and bleeding Empire One soldiers up and down.

  “This must be some kind of headline grabbing national incident. Where’s are the tanks, the black hawks, the marines. Jesus where are your fucking guns?”

  Jeter, who was busy polishing his Soulblade, looked up with icy eyes.

  “We found regular firearms to be an ineffective tool for the job and more of a force multiplier for the enemy. Blades will often be a more effective neutralizing tool anyhow.”

  Stromberg was leaning against the wall of the office drinking a bashed can of lager. He cheered the can to Bobby and grinned.

  “Well, that and we run out of fucking bullets, mate.”

  Brock stood up and towered above Stromberg with a look of hurt indignation on his block of a face.

  “Where did you get that beer?”

  “Fridge over there.”

  Brock Strolled over to the cooler in the corner and opened it to stare upon a six pack of beer dripping in condensation.

  “You sneaky little bastard. Were you gonna keep that to yourself?”

  Stromberg shrugged and drained the can.

  “You know how you are mate, one drink and you get all weepy and emotional.”

  Bobby shook his head and turned to Sherriff Daggett. He pointed to Empire One and flipped a cigarette up into his mouth.

  “This has to be a fucking joke Sherriff. This is our rescue team? Half of them can hardly stand. Look at hop-along there, he looks like Long John Silver.”

  Before Bobby could say another word Isaac had used his wooden crutch to jab him in the stomach, doubling him over, then swept the legs from beneath him. Bobby did a half somersault then crashed flat on his back onto the floor, all the wind knocked from him.

  Isaac grinned.

  “May I?”

  He hobbled in and leaned down, then plucked the unlit cigarette from Bobby’s lips and lit it, taking a deep drag.

  Bobby just groaned and struggled to catch his breath.

  Usher stepped forward. “Ok now we’ve got all that bullshit out the way, let’s start gathering kit that we need. We can’t stay here and time is of the essence. Sherriff?”

  Dagget was suddenly almost standing to attention in front of Usher, sucking his sweaty paunch in as best he could. “We got some hand guns and a few rifles in the armoury. Rifles get used for hunting mostly if I’m honest but they’re kept clean and in good order.”

  Usher patted him on the shoulder to build his confidence.

  “Go gather everything you got. We might need firearms later, but for now and until I say so, no one fires a shot ok? We don’t even know if regular bullets do much good against half the things we’re facing. ”

  Daggett’s shoulder’s sagged. “I ain’t the best shot in the world Major, but me and the deputies, we put as many rounds as we had into those winged things when they came at us out those woods. Not one of them went down, not a god damned one. It ain’t natural.”

  “No it isn’t Sherriff. Don’t blame yourself. I was
ted a few good rounds myself in my youth before I learned better. You were just doing your best to protect the town.”

  Ariel picked a 9mm round up off the Sherriff’s desk.

  “Mr Daggett if I had access to my equipment and lab, I could probably adapt this into something rather deadly to the creatures out there. We change ammunition you see, infuse it with thaumaturgy and such. I’d need some samples from the creatures out there though, and a number of other bits and bobs, but….”

  Usher cast Ariel a sharp glance. “You think you could Ariel? Work something up if we got you what you needed? Without the specialist ammo we lost in the crash, we’re balls to the wall here old pal.”

  Ariel looked out of the window at the thick red mist crawling against the glass, smearing it with blood.

  “I can try, Thom. I can try.”

  Bobby was up against the wall now, clutching his winded stomach and glaring defiantly up at Usher and his team.

  “How the hell are we supposed to get out of here without shooting our way out? Those things out there, they’re monsters.”

  Ariel stepped forward and offered a hand to the young athlete, who after a moment’s reluctance accepted and struggled to his feet. Once Bobby stood up to his full height, Ariel smiled up at him.

  “Bobby, is it? Bobby, from what we’ve seen so far of the things we are dealing with, they exist primarily within this mist, their power drawn from the constant supply of blood contained within the vapour. Their senses seem to have evolved, and I use that word extremely loosely when describing thaumaturgic entities, to rely on other senses. Vibration detection, sonar, acute hearing, and possibly other magical senses we have no access to. We have no idea of the true number and variety that we are dealing with, but judging by what we’ve already seen, they massively outnumber us that’s for certain. Until we have weaponry that will be truly effective, and I’ll get to work on that, our best defence against what is out there is stealth, and guile. Do you understand?”

  Bobby stared at the young scientist for a few moments, then nodded. “Yes sir.”

  Usher and his team spent the next thirty minutes gathering every firearm and box of ammunition they could muster, and then took a head count of the surviving townsfolk, checking for injuries and shock. They counted about twenty people all together, mainly superficial injuries and exhaustion, but the psychological wounds were obvious.