Titus

by Caleb Byrnand

  “Do you think he’ll be okay?” She cares about everyone. In a time when empathy is needed most, she became the torch bearer for the world.

  “I don’t know. To be honest, things are getting worse out there. If they do have him, then none of us are safe in here.”

  Gloria smiles at his statement. She obviously feels very secure. “There’s a thirty-mile network of interconnecting tunnels to get lost in down there, leading all the way to the town Lobos. I’m not worried.”

  A person in the back of the tunnel begins to cough, the faint smell of smoke form the bushfire tickling his nasal senses. Elias looks up to the ventilation shafts with concern. Gloria picks up on his alarm.

  “Don’t worry, they’ve been shut for years. No fire is coming in, no air is getting sucked out. Get yourself a drink, have a bite to eat. You’re safe.”

  No we’re not. “All the same, we should get ready to move if needs be. One good thing about the fire is that it gives us cover for the time-being.”

  “Cover from whom exactly?”

  ❖

  Flying through the air, approaching the huge plume of black smoke from the growing bush fire, is the Guardian hunting for Elias. Ahead he finds a clearing with a long unmistakeable gouge running down it; a path leading to the stolen crashed hover plane.

  The Guardian lands amidst the flames and embers and approaches the wreckage, using his powers to tear the already partially separated roof off the plane exposing the insides.

  Empty. The hunt continues.

  ❖

  Gloria has heeded Elias’s warning and rallies her troops to prepare for further transit deeper into the tunnels. There are some some grumblings from certain party members but their misgivings are inadequate to sway the consensus.

  The flames have reached the estate and the building above their heads now creaks and cracks with the consummation of its foundations from the fire. Sounds of falling walls and roof tiles causing the timider members of the group to flinch in self-preservation.

  Elias quickly packs and eager to move, but not so much to give suspicions to his motivations. Missing one handgun and sniper rifle, they are shy of defensive weapons and Elias is feeling the itch of trepidation.

  Turning to Gloria he asks, “What weapons do we have left?”

  She takes a second to rack her brain before stumbling over the obvious, “Oh! Uncle left a small arsenal of weapons and explosives down here. They may have dated somewhat but I’m sure someone like yourself could make something of them. This way.” She leads him down the long dark tunnel before splintering off the main artery to a storeroom nestled inconspicuously in the shadows. She fumbles with a set of keys for a minute before cracking open the rusty lock and pushing the aged door on its unaccommodating hinges.

  A thick layer of dust and cobwebs come to life as the door open. Shining their kerosene lanterns over the room they discover that moisture, insects and time has destroyed all but a few useful items. Elias starts evaluating the exposed weapons while Gloria grabs a crowbar and begins opening the crates.

  “The ammunition has been rendered useless and the guns have rusted and seized.” Elias’s evaluation is correct and if he hopes to find an arsenal worthy of staging an assault, he feels he is not in luck. The best he finds is a box of flares.

  Gloria has found a more optimistic haul, busting open several crates of the same goods. “Well, I do have a few dozen claymores here. I’m no expert but they all look like they’ll work.”

  Elias looks over the crate of claymores and is suitably impressed. “Good. That should work. Hand me that trolley.” Elias loads the crates onto a hand trolley with shot bearings and flat tyres, and drags the munitions out of the room.

  ❖

  The estate is now fully engorged in flames, breaking apart with huge sections crashing to the ground, erupting waves of fire in its wake. The Guardian hunter lands in front of the still standing gates, satisfied that he has found his target.

  He pushes open the barred gates and begins to walk towards the burning building.

  CHAPTER XI

  Titus

  Titus is in the co-pilot’s chair looking a little surprised to see his old partner fly an airplane when only a week ago they were living in the iron age. He did hack a computer yesterday so maybe the two are not so unalike. Dumachus is slipping back into the old dynamic, speaking to him, absent hate and remorse. “Australia? Where’s that? Antarctica? Huh? America? Never heard of you. All these new countries come out of nowhere and now they play host to the pivotal moments in Earth’s history.”

  Titus has had a rough transitioning period with this new body and new world. As much as he hates it, Dumachus is the only person in the world who understands what he’s experiencing. “That did stick out to me. Apparently the world is more than Egypt to Asia. And is actually spherical.”

  “Here’s one. Rome is the capital of the followers of Christ. Rome!”

  Titus finds himself falling into the way things used to be, “We’re flying in an aeroplane at a speed that winds back the sun. This is what normal turned into. Nuts.”

  “You know what should be off-putting? How quickly I’ve taken to all of this; the technology, information, powers, how small the world is now. Imagine if we could go back like this, we’d be gods.”

  Titus sees an opportunity to remind Dumachus of his political stance and jabs, “Instead of what? Oppressors?”

  Dumachus wastes no time rebutting, “I love to have to bring this up again; what part of the prophecies did you not understand? You were with me all those years, every sermon. This is what we wanted, what you wanted.”

  Titus is slightly on the back foot. Dumachus makes a valid argument. “I understood them as symbolic. A forecast of human nature and a warning.”

  “Bullshit, you’re not that naïve. You’re dirty because you weren’t asked to become a deity.” The one-track-minded Dumachus has evolved, capable now of complex and higher thought. His narcissism has also evolved into something new. “This modern world was prophesised, as were we. None of the deities throughout history had a choice, divine power was bestowed upon them and they dealt with it and kicked ass. You need to accept the reality of your situation. Look at you, wandering aimlessly, destroying everything and everyone in your path. Every human and Guardian you interact with has or will die. No kidding, everyone.”

  Dumachus has been talking for some time and finally takes a breath. He isn’t sure how much truth was in the whole spiel but it looks as if the last part struck a nerve.

  Everyone. Noah? Elias?

  The silence has been long enough so Dumachus digresses, “You have got plenty of options, you just have to choose one. It’s not as if you hold dear any allegiances, considering you gave up your life’s work all due to the stoicism of a lonely Jew.”

  “You should be able to relate: sacrificed by those he trusted and fought for. Sound familiar?”

  Dumachus finally waits a beat before responding. He steps down off the soap box, with a serious tone says, “More than you know. I knew that the Elder set us up. I heard the bag of silver in his pocket. But I was proud to die with you for the Church of Light.”

  Titus’s polarising determination of the world starts to expand into areas of grey. Dumachus has been on point. Intelligent and layered. Unlike him. Post resurrection, Titus realises he became the one-track-minded one, and a lot of people suffered for it. His initial resistance and anxiety about this journey is replaced with something familiar. Something he missed. “Occasionally I see glimpses of the old you, but we are not the same men we were a week ago. We’re not even men.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “Whatever grudge you bear me died with the man on the cross.”

  “And whatever expectations of me you have should be left there as well.”

  They push pause on their tiff for a moment, both watching the sky and sea streak past. Titus turns his head slightly towards Dumachus, speaking as though he has a slight grin, “So you
have no problem with me going my own way when this is all over?”

  Dumachus responds in kind, grinning wider, “Let’s not jump to any conclusions this early, agreed?”

  “One problem at a time.”

  ❖

  In the middle of the Australian outback a one million strong army of Guardians surrounds a missile silo and stands waiting and watching as the sun sets. A few hundred meters away a landing strip with hundreds of grounded hover planes looks to be the obvious place for incoming ships to land, yet Dumachus takes his blood soaked hover plane and lands directly in the middle of his army.

  Word travels fast with telepaths and before Titus could step out of the plane there are two million eyes on them. The single most alienating experience of his life. “You didn’t tell them I was coming?”

  Dumachus is loving it, “Thought it’d be a fun surprise for everyone.”

  A small hatch connected to the underground silo opens and Elder Venark emerges, shuffling over to them. “The three informed me you were both coming. Thought I’d see it with my own eyes. Welcome, second son. The brothers reunited, the Moirai will be here soon, Mother is about to come back online, everything is as it was written.”

  Titus isn’t sure what the elder thinks he knows, “I’m not here to stay old man. Once the fight is over, my service is done.”

  Venark ponders on what Titus says, looking deeply at him. “Your story doesn’t end tonight. Tomorrow a new chapter begins.”

  Dumachus shuffles slightly at this statement. A sentiment he has been trying keep suppressed. “How soon till Mother is online?”

  “If everything prevails, when the sun rises she will awake.” Elder Venark is still looking at the two like his favourite band has reunited.

  Dumachus turns to Titus and gives him a friendly punch on the shoulder, “We just have to survive the night then. You ready brother? One last adventure.”

  Does he mean that in the absolute literal sense?

  Dumachus turns to walk amongst his troop, yelling over his shoulder to Venark, “Tell Simon I have a surprise for him.”

  The sun is nearly set, the air cooling with a soft but constant breeze, the Guardians begin to gravitate toward Dumachus which is when Titus realised the two million eyes staring his way are actually fixed on Dumachus, not him. Venark is still standing there staring up at him, assumedly star struck. Titus tries to ignore it but his insistent presence makes it difficult. Then when the elder speaks, ignorance is impossible. “Mankind has changed since your time. Collectively ours, everyone’s soul has been corrupted. I know people have been preaching that for thousands of years but it had never reached the scale to which was present.”

  The elder came out swinging, Titus is actually interested now. “I noticed,” he replies.

  “The world has changed and us with it, and I’ve witnessed the transition. I am near two-hundred-years-old and have seen all sorts search for their place in the world. The trouble with you, I think, is that you’re still stuck on that cross, and the place on Earth you yearn for doesn’t exist anymore.”

  “What do you suggest then?” This is risky asking advice from one the architects of the Fall.

  “Take the mark, register that chip. You will be protected and be able to do good. More good than staying in hiding, or dying. End all this destruction that surrounds you and rebuild. Be the carpenter.”

  Wait, is this a joke? “Like Jesus?”

  Venark is pleased with his joke and has a chuckle. “See, I still have my wit. The charm and good looks however suffered somewhat from atrophy.”

  Something triggers the surrounding Guardians to be at alert, the tension in the air rising several units. Titus turns away from the elder to get a view on the potential drama. “You should go back inside now; you’ve seen what you came out for.”

  “Yes I have.”

  CHAPTER XI

  Elias

  Elias emerges from the tunnel to the main cavern, covered head to toe in dirt and dragging an empty hand trolley behind him. All three crates of explosives apparently put to good use.

  Everyone bar Sarah is ready to relocate further into the tunnel. Her fight is over. Gloria hands her a box of rations and fuel, kisses her on the cheek and says goodbye. Gloria takes her leave to heart; the loss of a third person in three days brings up misplaced feelings of inadequacy and guilt. Elias’s respect for her inflates a little every day, reassuring him that his choice to stay is the right one.

  Because Elias is as filthy as sin, Gloria opts to carry baby Seth. As the group shoulders their luggage and supplies ready for the long march, dragging and excavation noises can be heard on the ground level. All eyes move towards the ladder, where the focus of the activity is heard.

  Gloria looks perplexed, “Was that the rest of the house?”

  Damn. Elias knows exactly what, or who it is. “The structure fell hours ago, that’s something else…” The penny drops. Their cover is blown. “Everyone, move. Now!”

  The hatch starts to rattle and shake, felling ash and dust before a loud BOOM fills the air. The hatch is torn from its hinges and the amber glow of fire fills the cavern, along with fresh smoke and embers. Nobody moves, nobody blinks. Fear and morbid curiosity dictating the group’s collective positioning. Elias is desperate to get on the move but without his son he is going nowhere.

  The Guardian he attacked in the carpark drops through the open hatch and lands hard on the cavern floor, pulling behind him a river of smoke that settles around him like a demon. The group runs for their lives, tearing down the tunnel screaming and yelling at each other. Sarah, being unprepared and unable to move with speed, is picked off first. The Guardian uses his telekinesis to take hold of her body and slams her into the tunnel wall, killing her instantly. Elias brings up the rear, eyeing off the Guardian before concealing himself in a shroud of darkness the deep long tunnel provides. The Guardian walks towards them without a real sense of urgency. Just an unwavering belief in the inevitability of their demise. Elias sprints through the darkness till he catches up with Gloria just before the tunnel forks. “Keep heading to Lobos. I’ll slow him down.”

  “Don’t lag too far behind.” Gloria looks scared. Not intimidated or weary, but as if she will never see him again. Her reassuring smile failing to hit the mark this time.

  Elias bends over and kisses Seth on his little soft forehead. “I love you my son.” He stops and watches the group fades into obscurity, turns around and waits.

  The Guardian walks slowly and carefully down the tunnel, eventually reaching the fork in the road. As he stops to sense which direction to travel, Elias, still hiding in the shadows, swings a heavy pole aiming for the back of his head. It rings like a detuned gong as it bounces off an already prepared force field protecting the Guardian’s body. Using telekinesis, he pulls Elias from his ambuscade and hurtles his body down the tunnel. Pleased with his self-defensive measures, he calls out to Elias, “Thought you could try that again aye?” Elias is quick to his feet and darts around a corner, leading the suspecting Guardian away from the rest of his group. The Guardian takes the bait and gives chase.

  As the Guardian follows Elias around a corner a hidden claymore blasts in his face. His force field protects him but the impact knocks him back several feet, the shockwave doing the most damage as the Guardian tries to shake it off. “You’re a hard one to read, but won’t be hard to kill.” The Guardian looks down the section of tunnel he is being led, raises his hand and agitates every surface of the vicinity, setting off every booby-trap laid out for him. After a series of explosions echoes down the tunnel and a fine haze of dust and dirt fill the air, the Guardian commences his slow march towards his human target. Pleased with his efforts in undoing Elias’s work, he announces, “Maybe not that hard to read after all.”

  The short section of tunnel feeds into a large chamber five meters in diameter. Elias stands near the back of the chamber at the opening of another passageway, backing away slowly with a knife in each hand.

&nb
sp; “Two knives? Well that’s not very fair.” As the Guardian enters the chamber he extends his hand and uses his powers to snatch one of the knives from Elias. As the blade flies through the air and the Guardian enters the room, another hidden claymore detonates, this time peppering the unsuspecting Guardian with dozens of small projectiles. A momentary lapse in concentration cost the Guardian dearly, and Elias capitalises on this opportunity to inflict more damage. He throws his remaining knife at the Guardian; his steady hand and true aim being his only ally. But it is not enough. The damaged Guardian raises his defences and stops the blade mid-air, looks up to Elias and grins before sending the knife back through the air his way. With a lack of light, and with his exhaustion, Elias is unable to clear himself of the knife’s trajectory and the hurling blade hits him in the shoulder. The Guardian then pulls Elias through the air and catches him by the neck, squeezing the air out of the exasperating and intrepid human with his bloodied extremity. He just simply says to him, “Enough.”

  Elias breaks his grip, rips the knife out of his shoulder and with one motion slashes the Guardian’s face, opening up his cheek and the crown of his nose. The Guardian releases Elias and propels him through the air and back down the passageway. He is feeling some very real pain now and has had enough of playing around. Set to finish him off permanently, the Guardian moves to intercept. Elias pulls himself up using the passageway walls and fumbles for something in the corner of the ceiling. The Guardian does his best not to be distracted by his actions but something in the room catches his eye. Every supporting beam has been removed from the chamber and several holes have been recently dug in the walls and ceilings. Each with a connecting ignition wire leading back to the trigger Elias is fumbling for. Before the Guardian has time to evaluate and remedy his situation, Elias pulls on the switch. A wave of explosions cascade around him, snuffing out all light and air from the chamber causing a cave-in that envelops the Guardian in a tomb of earth and soil.