Ash: Farpointe Initiative Book One

by Aaron Hubble

  A dull thud brought him out of his thoughts, and he looked through the front window of the car into the city. The car vibrated under his feet, and suddenly, an orange light illuminated the inside of the car. Calier turned his head and looked at the northern edge of the city, where the sound had originated.

  Several of the larger buildings in the business district were in flames.

  It took a moment for Calier’s mind to comprehend what he was seeing. It felt like someone had spun the car he was riding in and then sucked all the air out. He could not explain what was in front of his eyes.

  Dark smoke billowed from unexplained holes in the side of a building. Calier stood, not knowing what else to do, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. The car filled with soft gasps and shocked moans as the other passengers asked each other what was happening to their city. White vapor trails streaked across the sky, followed by a high-pitched whistle and then more explosions. An eruption of flame lit the inside of the car and reflected off the glass. Calier watched with open-mouthed horror as buildings that had stood for centuries crumbled like sand castles. There were more explosions, and he raised his hand to his mouth as the majestic spire of the university’s celestial observation tower teetered and then toppled to the side. In whatever direction he looked, buildings were being ripped apart and disintegrating in a hail of stone and twisted steel.

  Through his shock, Calier’s analytical mind tried to piece together anything that might make sense of what he was seeing. At first he thought an accidental explosion must be the cause, but what were the streaks of white vapor? And how could so many buildings explode at the same time? Could it be that the city was being attacked? Surely not.

  The car shook violently and dropped several feet, sending bodies and luggage sprawling across the floor before it came to a stop. Calier had caught himself on the overhead hand rail and had remained on his feet. He bent and helped an elderly woman back into her seat.

  An angry gash across the woman’s forehead leaked blood. “Here.” Calier pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it to her forehead. “You have a little cut.”

  Weakly, she said, “Thank you.” Clutching his arm, she looked into his eyes, desperately searching for answers. “Do you know what’s happening?”

  “No, I don’t.” He smiled to reassure her. “But I’m sure the public protection group is on the scene and taking care of everything.”

  Calier stood back up and looked into the city just in time to see more explosions. His own panic was growing, his heart racing. Why was his city, everything that he loved, burning before him? His thoughts turned toward his brother and the four precious children. He prayed they had been nowhere near the exploding buildings.

  Next to him Saloma was crying as her mother hugged her and tried to comfort her, stroking the brown curls. “It’s alright baby, we’re going to be fine,” she whispered softly into the little girl’s ear.

  There was another explosion, this one much closer and Calier saw the METS tower on the far side of the gorge torn apart.

  The car dropped again, and this time it didn’t stop.

  Calier lost his grip on the hand rail and began to fall toward the back of the car. His arm struck a safety harness and he grabbed frantically at the tough, webbed material. The belt went taunt and his body jarred violently as his downward momentum was stopped.

  Luggage and personal belongings turned into deadly missiles as they were thrown around the cabin. Buffeted by debris, Calier tried to shield his head with his free arm.. The car continued to fall, slowed by the cable it was still attached to. He felt a tug on his leg as weight settled there. He glanced down and looked into the terrified eyes of Saloma, who had managed to grasp his leg as she slid past.

  Looking up, Calier saw the rock face of the gorge coming toward them as the car swung like a giant pendulum toward the solid wall. Gritting his teeth, he held his breath and waited.

  The impact was sudden and violent. The abrupt termination of the car’s momentum sent Calier swinging on the end of the harness and he smashed into the side of a bench. The air rushed out of his lungs and violet pain exploded in his ribs. People careened through the car, tossed like dolls. Calier squeezed his eyes shut, but he was unable to silence the sickening sound of bodies being dashed against the metal walls. The windows exploded, showering him with a million shards of glass. He felt some of them pierce his flesh.

  The car bounced against the rock face, its momentum taking it out over the gorge like a swing, and then back toward the rock. Striking the wall once again, the shell of the train car could no longer take the stress. Halfway up the wall of the car a jagged line in the metal appeared with a shriek of tearing metal and the train opened like a tin can. The screech of rending steel drowned out panicked screams as the car opened, and Calier watched in horror as screaming passengers, Am’Segid brothers and sisters, fell to their deaths.

  The torn lower half of the train dangled for several seconds. People tried in vain to climb out, and their cries for help tore at Calier’s heart, but there was nothing he could do for them. With an ear-splitting screech, the metal gave way and the car tumbled into the abyss, bodies free-falling with it.

  Calier tore his eyes from the sight and focused on Saloma, who was desperately holding on to his leg. “Hold on, just hold on! I’ll get you.” Her terrified cries echoed in the gorge. He couldn’t reach her with his free arm unless he was able to bring her closer. Flexing his hip and knee toward his chest, he tried to lift the little girl closer to his free arm. Maybe he could grab her and hold on until help came.

  “I’m slipping!” the girl sobbed. “Please help me, don’t let me fall!”

  “I won’t, I won’t. Just hold on for a little longer!” Pulling his leg up with all the strength he could muster, Calier had Saloma within reach when the little girl’s hands loosened and then slipped off his leg.

  “No! Oh God, no!” Calier stared at the little girl as she tumbled down the aisle and into the gorge, her brown curls whipped by the speed of her descent. Her arms stretched toward him in a last desperate plead for help, and then Calier squeezed his eyes shut and watched no more.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Berit’s eyes fluttered open and she saw the snow falling from the sky in large, fat flakes that would make excellent snowballs. She licked her lips and tasted a dry, smoky flavor on her tongue. It wasn’t snow falling from the sky.

  She pushed herself up from the ground into a sitting position, wincing in pain. The large flakes covered her clothing. Berit tried to wipe them away but only succeeded in smearing the flakes across her skirt. It wasn’t snow, it was ash. Ash was falling from the sky and covering everything.

  Memories flooded back to her. The building, the explosion, and the rock raining from the sky.

  Winnet…where was Winnet?

  Berit rolled onto her hands and knees, then tried to stand. A wave of dizziness threatened to overtake her. She paused and remained motionless for several seconds. As the dizziness abated, she began to frantically search the park for any signs of her fiancé, but didn’t see him.

  Berit became conscious of a noise behind her, coming from the city, and when she turned she was greeted by a most unimaginable sight. The city was burning.

  Once-proud spires that had soared into the sky were now piles of rock and rent metal. Fires raged out of control, consuming entire buildings. She saw people running frantically with no real direction other than to escape the horror in which they found themselves trapped. Bodies littered the streets. Some were hanging out of broken windows, twisted at grotesque angles.

  The carnage overwhelmed her and she turned her head and retched on the ground. She tried to take a deep breath to calm herself, but choked. The air was full of smoke and ash, making the act of taking a deep breath all but impossible.

  She closed her eyes and tried to focus. Where was Winnet? Didn’t he know she needed him? How was she supposed to make sense of what she was seeing without him to lean upon?
Putting pressure on her leg caused a sharp bolt of pain, but she couldn’t see anything wrong.

  Why would he leave her? She shook her head. No, Winnet wouldn’t leave her.

  Berit limped around a large chunk of rock and saw him. Winnet lay on his back, staring up at the ash-filled sky, a three-foot piece of metal impaling his chest, pinning him to the ground.

  “No!” Berit dropped to her knees and cradled Winnet’s head. “Come on, baby, it’s going to be okay. You just need to talk to me and we’ll find some help. Please, Winnet!” With shaking hands, Berit tried to brush ash from Winnet’s face. It smeared, just as it had on her skirt. Dusty gray coated his cheeks adding to the deathly pallor.

  She looked into his eyes. The dark maroon eyes that had always captivated her. The eyes that only minutes before had sparkled with intelligence and mirth, were now glassy and empty.

  How could this be? How could he be…dead?

  No. She pushed the thought from her mind. It wasn’t possible; they had just been talking about their wedding. Winnet was not dead and this was not happening. Another explosion erupted somewhere in the city, but Berit barely noticed. She ran her hand through Winnet’s blond hair, gently stroking the maroon streaks that started at his temples. She had always wondered if their children would inherit his maroon or her gold, and now there would be no children.

  There would be no wedding.

  There would be no happily ever after.

  Berit cradled the head of her love and wept as her city burned.

  ****

  It quickly became apparent that nobody was coming to help him.

  Explosions continued to rock the city above him, and Calier understood that this was not an accident.

  Calier dangled by the safety harness, his right arm wrapped in the webbing. The mouth of the gorge lay below him, hungry for one more victim. He took a deep breath and turned his eyes from the void below him and began to take in his situation.

  The front of the car dangled from its cable, pointing toward the sky. The only way out of this was up, and that meant climbing. It was pretty simple. Make a wrong move and the chasm would claim him. Do everything right and maybe live to see another day.

  He somehow needed to crawl through the window to the outside of the car. If he could do that, he might be able to hand-over-hand his way up the steel cable to the rim of the canyon.

  Dangling in mid-air, Calier kicked his feet, trying to produce some movement that would allow him to reach one of the seats. If he could do that, he could rest for a minute and untangle his arm from the safety harness. His boots touched the top of the now-horizontal back rest, and Calier was able to pull himself into a standing position. He felt the pressure lessen on his arm. Blood coursed back into his hand, accompanied by the uncomfortable feeling of his hand being poked by millions of little pins. His head swam with dizziness. He clung to the harness, maintaining a death grip on the webbing. Sweat trickled down his forehead and back despite the cool wind blowing up from the river below. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath. He was taking short gulps, not letting his body get the oxygen it needed. He tried to calm himself, knowing that the only chance he had was if he was still breathing and somewhat rational.

  The impossibility of the whole situation struck him and he let out a little laugh.

  How could he possibly expect to climb up a steel cable dangling over a gorge when he didn’t like to be any higher than a step ladder? He forced himself to take several long, slow breaths in and then out, attempting to restore some sort of rational thought.

  Rational? In this situation, the rational thing would be screaming and crying like a little kid, but that would do little to save his life.

  Forcing himself to look up, he noted that the only way to make it to the front of the car was to pull himself onto the next seat and climb through the front windows of the car. That would mean letting go of the safety harness that had become his best friend.

  The thought terrified him, but there was no other way.

  Breathing deeply, he slowly opened his fingers. His hand had cramped, and releasing the harness was more than just an act of will, it was physical torture. The feeling of being untethered and hanging over an open canyon made him want to vomit, but he pushed the feeling aside. His heart was pounding so loudly that Calier could not hear any sounds from the city.

  Without giving himself time to think, Calier stood on the seat and used the strength in his arms to pull himself to the next bench. He closed his eyes and breathed. Cracking his eyelids, he glanced at the shattered window above his head. To reach the window he would need to balance like a gymnast on the narrow seat edge in order to get a hold on the window edge.

  He breathed deeply. What had his father always said? He who hesitates is lost. That had never seemed more true than right now.

  In a couple of moves, Calier was on the seat edge, but he happened to get a glimpse of the river below him. A wave of vertigo rolled over him and Calier knew if he didn’t find the window soon, his next stop would be the floor of the chasm. Shooting his hands above him, he felt the cool metal of the window edge and the bite of glass shards as they cut the flesh on the palms of his hands. He ignored the pain and damage he was doing to his hands as he regained his balance.

  Pulling upward and kicking off the seat bench, his head emerged from the inside of the car. Grabbing at the rubber bumper on the front of the car, Calier was able to pull himself the rest of the way out of the train car. Bloody hand prints decorated the white metal like a child’s finger painting. The wounds on his palms would need to be addressed soon, but for now he needed a second to rest. He lay on his back, gasping for breath. The cool metal of the car felt good pressed against his cheek. Pain had begun to radiate from his ribs, making breathing difficult. A broken rib or two, he guessed. He grasped his left side and groaned, thankful he was still alive to feel the pain.

  Turning his head, he looked up at the cable that ran up to the top of the cliff. He realized he only had about twenty feet to climb; the car was farther across the gorge than he had realized. In gratitude he said a little prayer because he was unsure he would be able to pull himself up much farther than that.

  He held up his hands and looked at the cuts in his palms. He pulled out several pieces of glass, then, using his pocket knife, he cut two ribbons of fabric from the bottom of his shirt. He wound them around his hands and knotted the fabric to hold it in place.

  Standing on wobbly legs, he unsteadily made his way toward the edge of the car and grasped the cable, an amazing mixture of steel and organic material that was already trying to repair itself. The broken end was wriggling and trying to find its connection with the rest of the cable.

  Thankful he had spent the last three months swinging a pickax and shoveling dirt instead of typing on a computer, he reached as high as he could and began to climb. The ascent was slow and arduous, but the distance between him and the edge of the cliff gradually grew smaller.

  At the rim of the cliff, Calier reached up and over the rock and grasped the pole of a safety fence that ran the full length of Gadol City’s most formidable defense. Using what strength was left in his arms, Calier let out a loud groan and pulled himself up onto solid ground.

  He rolled over onto his back, his breath coming in ragged gulps, and laughed. The sound was strange to his ears, considering what he had just seen and done, but he was alive and he had somehow managed to extricate himself from a horrific situation.

  Then he remembered the falling bodies and Saloma’s last, terrified scream as she tumbled to her death, and he wept bitter tears.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  After several minutes, Calier was able to compose himself and stand up. For the first time Calier got a good look at the destruction of his city. In front of him the heart of Gadol City burned. Once-mighty buildings had toppled to the streets, crushing anything that lay in the path of their descent. Several of the Victory Arches were partially destroyed and the art museum that held one of the greatest co
llection of Am’Segid art was a smoldering crater. No building remained untouched by the violence.

  Most troubling were the broken forms of his brothers and sisters, fellow Am’Segid who had not been able to escape death. Calier tried to turn away from the nightmare, but it surrounded him on all sides. Once, he had witnessed an accident at an archaeological dig. A tunnel had collapsed, killing three people. That sight had sent him reeling for several days because of the deep sense of randomness and inequity in that accident. Lives had been taken before those unfortunate people had a chance to live out their normal number of years. Now that feeling was multiplied by thousands as the dead lay piled up in the streets and hanging from broken windows.

  An earsplitting, high-pitched whine sounded above him. A black wedge-shaped aircraft streaked across the sky. He watched it bank around the edge of the city and circle back, heading straight for Ger Spire. Trails of white vapor extended from the wings of the craft and raced toward the obelisk. The top third of the tower exploded, sending rock and steel in all directions.

  Calier recoiled from the sight. Ger spire was a symbol of the Great Peace, named for the man whose courage had brought peace to Aereas. All twelve of the Great Cities had built a spire, a pledge to each other that they would never take up arms against one another again. Now it was gone, taken by the very type of violence it stood against.

  Several black aircraft circled the city like carrion birds, looking for something more to feast upon. They looked nothing like any aircraft Calier had ever seen in the skies of Aereas. The shape was wrong. Almost all Aerean aircraft were crescent-shaped and large, used to transport people and cargo. These were triangular with swept-back black wings. They were small, fast, and extremely agile banking around the city at incredible speeds while spewing death from the ordinance they carried.