The Last Line Series One

by David Elias Jenkins

  Lilith shrugged and her sagging grey breasts quivered.

  “Oh well then.”

  She began to slowly squeeze. Usher kicked out but he could find no purchase. His hands flailed and accidentally found the handle of the First Knife. After all they had done to procure it and all the hope they had placed in it, the artefact was as useless as a butter knife.

  He heard Lilith’s silky voice in his ears above the slowly beating drum of his heart.

  “What could you possibly have, impotent little man, which could even pose the slightest threat to me?”

  Usher felt his consciousness drift. He could no longer focus on the pain or the choking attempts at breathing. Memories flashed in his mind. Some of his family…

  … the shadow elves dragging his wife and child through the impossible tunnel in their old bedroom….

  Then his mind turned to his surrogate family…the soldiers he had commanded that had stood by him for years…

  Picking Ariel’s ear up off the deck of the Proteus….

  …the bar fight that had kicked off with the drunken paratroopers in Cyprus…

  …their helicopter crash into the red misted forests of Carnival…Isaac’s broken leg…

  Usher almost felt himself laugh….

  …Isaac….always in trouble…always getting hurt….somehow always pulling through…

  Usher felt his head clear just a little. In all the madness and horror they had seen over the years, the one thing that had kept each soldier of Empire One sane was that they had each other to rely on. No matter what the odds, they had pulled each other out of the fire time and time again.

  Usher had to believe that somehow Isaac had done it again. He remembered something that Gina had said to him during their date….

  You need a little hope…

  Usher felt his fingers scrabble for the First Knife. His hand was shaking and he barely had the strength left to lift it. He tried to speak and Lilith came in closer, her raw flesh pressing wetly against him. Usher croaked through her iron grip.

  “…I got...one ...thing…that’s always gonna cause…things like you…grief….”

  Lilith gave him her regal grin.

  “Hmmm? And what is that?”

  Usher’s fingers finally tightened on the knife. His blood stained teeth grinned at her through the pain.

  “Pals.”

  Usher thrust the First Knife into her heart. He felt the flesh pucker and give and knew instantly that somehow Isaac had managed to disable the shield.

  Tea and medals for you, Marlowe.

  Lilith gave a hollow screech and released him, staggering backwards. She looked down at the hilt of the knife protruding from her chest in utter disbelief. From across the room Cornelius Fortune screamed and ran forward on his spindly legs.

  “No! What have you done?”

  Usher lay there in a heap on the floor, coughing and trying to catch his breath. When he looked up, the newly formed Lilith was unravelling before his eyes. The strips of flesh that coated her were unfurling like long wet strips of raw bacon. The sickly yellow mist that permeated the room was being recalled into her, sucked up into the knife wound. Her eyes were wide and filled with terror.

  “I will not be sent back to the dark. I am awake. I am awake.”

  Usher sat up and shielded his eyes from the luminescent mist that was being hoovered up by her dying body.

  “Yeah, nighty night sweetheart.”

  Cornelius Fortune ran to Lilith and embraced her. He tried to stop her new form unwinding, but now she was beginning to liquefy and drip down in globules to the floor.

  “I will not leave you my Queen.”

  Lilith wrapped her bony arms around the necromancer and he hugged his final creation. They remained there like lovers at a train station for a long moment. Then Lilith’s arms tightened around his frail back and Cornelius’s expression changed from one of devotion to one of pain.

  “My Queen. You crush me.”

  Lilith was beyond his voice. She screamed as she began to crumple and fold into non-existence, taking the unfortunate necromancer with her. Usher heard the necromancer’s spine snap and thin squeal rose from his throat. Lilith quickly occupied a smaller and smaller space as she was dragged back through into the Unseelie realm. Then with a final rush of air she was gone.

  Usher sat there breathing hard and nursing his throat. He didn’t know which part of him hurt the most.

  He slowly struggled to his feet.

  “Ok…ok…one foot in front of the other, soldier….”

  With hobbling old man steps, Usher made his way out of the temple and back up towards the club to help his friends.

  30

  Usher stood there at the corner of the dance floor looking at the pile of dead Unseelie beastmen. Standing at the bar in a line was Santiago, Brock, Charlie, Jeter, and Stromberg. Each of them was spattered with green blood and calmly sipping a pint.

  When Usher took a step forward, Stromberg smiled and raised a glass.

  “Poured you one boss.”

  Usher slowly made his way across the dance floor, weaving his way between dead bodies and slaughtered Unseelie. He stopped in front of his team with a look of befuddlement.

  “You boys…er…just chilling out?”

  Stromberg nodded.

  “Yeah. Well in fairness most of these horned fellas just kinda dropped dead about five minutes ago, so we kinda figured you’d probably killed the bitch downstairs.”

  Usher looked at the carnage around him. He was about to protest but he found that he didn’t have the energy.

  Fair enough.

  “Ok…How’s the beer here?”

  Charlie sank the last of his pint and started to pour another. He nodded to Usher and wiped froth from his upper lip.

  “Thing is boss, once things settled down, we suddenly realized that we were in an empty bar. Like…an empty bar. And we figured…you know…”

  Jeter raised a glass of pilsner and broke into a rare smile.

  “Our stories usually end on a down note Major, so we thought we’d throw a little party. Steal the good times. There is literally every drink in the world here. I for one could do with relaxing a little.”

  Usher could not help but smile. Go Jeter.

  Only this group could think that a free bar in the middle of a pile of dead monsters was a good party.

  Laz was crouched on the floor at the bar next to Buller. The big man’s chest was packed with a blood soaked trauma bandage but to Usher’s amazement he was conscious and sipping a pint. He crouched down next to them.

  “You still with us big fella? Let’s get some help your way huh?”

  Charlie called down.

  “Already done boss. I shot him full of one of Debruler’s anti Unseelie venom thingies. Ambulance is on its way. We’ll get him outside after this pint.”

  Buller coughed and then waved a big hand.

  “One of the hidden benefits of having a bit of extra padding round the middle is that it gives you a tonne of extra survivability in a stabbing.”

  Usher realized that the man was still badly hurt, but he was having a hopeful evening and was determined to let it continue.

  “Help’s on the way. Keep pressure on that wound.”

  Next to Buller, Laz nodded and pressed on the trauma bandage. Usher put a hand on his shoulder.

  “I’m sorry Laz, I’m afraid I lost your knife. But I can assure you it went to a good cause. I’m sure we can find a couple of artefacts back at the STG to compensate you.”

  Laz shook his head. He grinned at Usher.

  “Don’t bother. I’m getting out of the thaumaturgy business. Too many shady characters.”

  “You considering a career change?”

  Laz looked around the room at the pile of dead Unseelie, scattered weapons and artefacts. He worked his mouth, internally calculating.

  “On the other hand, this place is an absolute treasure trove. I could probably retire on what I could salvage her
e. I’ll be honest I’m on the fence between being a better man, or a rich worse one.”

  Usher smiled and stood up.

  “You’ll make the right choice.”

  He went over to stand next to his team at the bar.

  Brock grinned and passed him a pint of beer.

  Usher looked at the glass of golden liquid, chilled condensation trickling down the sides. He raised an eyebrow.

  “Brock, you know that most of our worst nights out have started like this?”

  Brock grunted and leaned on his stolen axe. He reached out to cheer with Usher.

  “Get in. Get the job done. Get home alive, boss.”

  Usher clinked his glass with Brock’s.

  Somehow we made it.

  “Don’t get eaten.”

  The big man grinned.

  “Easier said than done, boss.”

  Usher looked around him at the scene of bizarre carnage. They weren’t even officially sanctioned to be there. As far as Usher knew they could all end up in jail despite having saved the day. Greystone would no doubt want them to bug out of there as quickly as possible and covertly reconvene at Debruler’s house for a lengthy debrief.

  Usher raised his pint and cheered it with the rest of the team. No, not his team.

  His family.

  Fuck it. What’s the worst that could happen?

  He raised his glass and took a long, deep drink.

  31

  In the middle of the jungle in a tiny annexed region of the Congo basin, two ragged figures sat on a vantage point and watched the sunrise.

  Isaac sat atop the pyramid, breathing hard. He had never felt so tired.

  Arianna sat next to him. She looked thin and exhausted and her hair was a car crash. She leaned in and shoulder bumped him.

  “So, Corporal Marlowe, do you think they made it?

  Usher watched as the marmalade light crept up the temple steps. He shrugged.

  “Who? Usher and the boys? Well I guess if a helicopter turns up in the next day or so we’ll know the answer was yes.”

  “What does your gut tell you?”

  As the sun rose higher, the wide circle of mutated jungle surrounding the temple began to wither and die. Slowly the green revived, bright flowers bloomed and ferns unfurled. Life was returning. The birdsong that until now they had not realized had been absent suddenly erupted. Its music was shockingly beautiful to their ears.

  “My gut tells me that my friend Thom has led me in and back out of so many scrapes over the years I’ve lost count. If anyone can get the job done it’s him and those madmen that follow him.”

  “You know you’re one of those madmen, right?”

  Isaac smiled.

  “Oh yeah.”

  Arianna looked down at the partly melted lump of green plastic that sat on the step beside Isaac. He had managed to get half way through their distress call before the sparks started flying out of it.

  “That thing fried?”

  Isaac picked up the useless device.

  “Yup. I think they got my co-ordinates before it cooked but I can’t be totally sure. Like I said we’ll find out soon. Right now my professional assessment is that I am one hundred percent sure that I’m too tired to go anywhere.”

  Arianna let herself lean back onto the steps, using her Bergen as a pillow. As the adrenaline subsided she began to feel every bruise and cut the last few days had brought. She just lay on her back looking up at the bright blue sky. The air was beginning to smell of a thousand tropical flowers and it was making her want to doze.

  “I’m not sure I can actually stand up.”

  “Ditto.”

  Arianna folded her arms and moved one leg over so it brushed against Isaac’s.

  “So we’re alone on a lost Unseelie temple in the middle of an inhospitable jungle, with water and rations for two days, and only half sure if our friends haven’t all been killed.”

  Isaac watched as the sun rose fully over the vast jungle. The warmth on his face was incredible.

  “That’s about it. Some sunrise though, right?”

  “Isaac Marlowe, you know how to pick a romantic spot.”

  “Oh that’s not all. I brought wine.”

  Isaac reached into his bag and brought out the hip flask Edna had given him. He took a sip, did his very best not to vomit, and passed it across to Arianna. She grabbed it and to Isaac’s amazement took a huge steady gulp. She smiled at him, noticing his surprise.

  “How wonderful. I would very much enjoy getting slightly drunk atop this temple.”

  Isaac pulled a sealed foil pouch out of his bag and held it up to his face. He strained to read the writing on the back.

  “Can I interest you in…some dehydrated meatballs from an assortment of mystery animals?”

  “Will it absorb some of the taste of these methylated spirits we’re drinking.”

  “It might take the edge of it.”

  Arianna produced her foldable Spork.

  “Hit me with it.”

  The two lost STG operatives sat in the sunshine, having a picnic against all the odds. Neither of them had to voice that it was the most delicious, romantic meal of their lives. They sat quite for another minute

  In the middle of the meal, Arianna’s Spork froze on its way to her mouth.

  “You came back for me Isaac.”

  Isaac swallowed. Right at that moment he didn’t care how much trouble they were in or how they would find their way back to safety. He was right where he needed to be.

  “Naturally.”

  “I’m not used to people doing things like that for me.”

  “Nerdy kid in school?”

  Arianna mimed pushing glasses up onto her nose.

  “You wouldn’t believe how much.”

  Isaac put down his food and turned to her. He looked her square in the eyes.

  “Arianna, I would have crossed over to the other side to find you. I’d have hacked my way through to the King of the Dark himself if that’s what it took. We’re a team.”

  “Like...a team? Like a professional military team, or…?”

  Isaac leaned in and kissed her. He lingered there for a few moments and then broke off in a smile.

  “Yes. A strictly professional relationship.”

  They sat there happily in silence for a long while, enjoying the warmth of the sun on their skin and the warmth of the food in their bellies.

  Finally Arianna spoke.

  “Talking of the other side Isaac. What I glimpsed there, in the temple.”

  Isaac blew out his cheeks.

  “I’m sure it wasn’t pretty. I must admit most of my energy was being spent trying not to die. You get a sense from it?”

  Arianna seemed to struggle with the words.

  “Stronger than anything I’ve ever felt. It was terrible. The closest thing I’ve ever felt to pure evil. We can never ever stop until we have sealed every possible way through from there to here.”

  “Oh I’ve got a few years in me left before retirement. Plenty more work to be done.”

  Arianna put a hand on his knee.

  “What if I don’t want you to keep going? What if I don’t want to ever have the military police arrive at my door with a death notice? What if I want us to just run away and let someone else fight for a change?”

  Isaac looked her deep in the eyes for a long moment.

  “You mean that?”

  “I do.”

  Isaac tried to search for a memory where he wasn’t a soldier. He tried to recall what it felt like to be safe, to have any family other than Empire One. He drew a blank, until he reached the exact moment he was in. Then it started to make sense.

  “Let’s just get through this first date. I’m open to the idea.”

  They sat quiet for another minute. The drowsiness was starting to overtake them.

  His mind drifted to his missing friend Ariel. Finally Isaac asked.

  “Arianna, that glimpse you got of the Unseelie side…you think anyo
ne could survive over there? Make it back?”

  She looked out to the jungle for a long moment and then shook her head.

  “Unscathed? Sane? I doubt it. Some things people are just not equipped to witness. Not even the toughest soldier.”

  Isaac put his arm around her bony shoulder, gently squeezed her arm.

  “Well in my experience there are different kinds of tough. You nerds can hold your own when you need to.”

  In the distance Isaac began to hear a very faint drone. He scanned the horizon but couldn’t see anything. Then in the north east he thought he could pick out a tiny black dot. He was so exhausted at that point he knew that it could be his mind playing tricks on him. He strained his ears and was still pretty sure he heard a very distant helicopter.

  Maybe yes maybe no.

  Isaac looked beside him to the woman he loved. For a moment he imagined what it would be like not to be a soldier, to let someone else fight the monsters in the dark for a while. If he was honest, it felt good.

  He strained his eyes out to the tiny black speck in the bright blue sky.

  He smiled and moved closer to Arianna.

  Take your time, boys.

  32

  The chauffeur opened the car door and Lord Bramley exited his vintage Daimler.

  He did not make any contact with his employee as he wrapped his silk scarf around his neck and strode up towards his Kensington townhouse.

  “Make sure my bags have been packed and call ahead to the airfield. I want the jet fuelled up and ready to go within the hour.”

  His man nodded smartly.

  “Yes Lord Bramley.”

  Bramley strode past the maid as she opened the front door and bid him a good evening.

  “How was the opera sir? Can I get you anything?”

  Bramley was in no mood for chat but he was in the mood for a stiff drink.

  “Yes you can bloody well fix me a martini. And don’t spare the gin.”

  Bramley handed over his coat and scarf and strode huffily along the hallway and into the drawing room.

  He picked the remote control up from the arm of his chesterfield chair and turned on the news. The ambulances and fire engines were still outside the remains of Club Thorn, where a report of a terrorist cell being thwarted by Special Forces was developing minute by minute.