Paranormal Chaos

by Joshua Roots

  Makha frowned. “How? We’ve clearly outmatched you in every battle.”

  “True, but we were going to work with the Normals against you. Use their weapons to stem the tide. Including destroying your homeland.”

  He sucked in a breath. “They’d do such a thing?”

  I nodded. “The Normals fear your people and are willing to do whatever it takes to protect their own. If, however, you place me at the front of your column, they’ll be less inclined to act. Perhaps together we can convince them to cease the bloodshed once and for all.”

  Makha actually seemed to be contemplating my offer. Maybe there was a way out of this just yet.

  “It’s a good plan,” he finally said. “But one that’s not without tactical errors. You’re but a single human and your Council may or may not be willing to sacrifice you for their cause. The rest of your people, however, might make them less inclined to act.”

  My heart thundered. “No. I won’t risk the lives of anyone else. You get me and me alone.”

  Makha smiled. “This isn’t a negotiation, Creator. This is a decision. Either you jeopardize your surviving army or we crush those waiting for us on the other side.”

  I tensed, furious at being backed into a corner. Makha wasn’t just brilliant on the battlefield, he was a hell of a verbal tactician as well. But what options did I have? Endanger dozens of lives or tens of thousands? Hell, Wells might burn the Minotaur homeland to the ground no matter what, so the best I could do was try to stem the hemorrhaging where I could.

  Damn, losing sucked.

  “Very well,” I said, my shoulders tight and belly sick. “We’ll be shields for your forces.”

  “Excellent. Oh, and if anyone attempts to betray or attack us, I’ll ensure that every single person dies. Is that clear?”

  Holy hell.

  “Yes.”

  He smiled. “In that case, I believe we should begin our trek to your homeland. The sooner this comes to an end, the better.”

  His guards appeared as he stood. They helped Steve to his feet, then escorted us out of the building.

  “Gather the wounded,” he barked. “Those who can march, shall. Those unable will remain here. Several Mystics will stay behind to tend to the immobile. Leave a small detachment of warriors to guard them.”

  Minotaurs jogged around the compound, executing his orders. Again I searched for Pip, but he didn’t join the long, double-wide column that was forming. Nor did I see Quinn and Millie. I was too far away from the ones staying behind to see if any of them were among the living or the dead.

  I prayed harder than ever that my fiancée had escaped.

  The allied survivors were rounded up and brought to the front. Interspersed among us were numerous Minotaurs, each with weapons at the ready to strike down humans and paranormals alike. Lucky me, I got Melifinous as my battle-buddy.

  I looked up at him. “Hey.”

  “Human.”

  “I’m sorry we wound up on opposite sides of this war.”

  He glared at me but said nothing else.

  Apparently peace between our people was going to take a little more work.

  Several Mystics filtered into the mix, blanketing us with their dampening spell. In the blink of an eye, the Skilled were cut off from the surrounding environment, sealing our fate. Even if we wanted to strike, we’d have nothing but our own ragged internal reserves to do it with.

  And no one, not even me, was that stupid.

  Once we were set, Makha and Steve joined me at the head of the line.

  “Ready, Melifinous?”

  “Yes, Alpha.”

  “Creator?”

  “No, but let’s get this over with.”

  He nodded solemnly. “Agreed. Lead the way.”

  Our passage through the Underground was one of the worst parades in history. We filled the narrow streets, moving slowly. Civilians who’d wisely stayed indoors peered at us through cracked doors and windows. Fear filled their eyes, no doubt because they sensed Makha’s disdain for the various species. I had no idea what would happen to them or even to the Underground as a whole. Would Makha allow it to exist or would he burn it to the ground? As a safe haven for paranormals of all creeds and colors, I had a feeling it would be the latter.

  I wanted to apologize to these people, to tell them I had tried my best. But it would have been wasted breath. Our defeat meant their lives might be forfeit.

  Please, God, give me one last chance to make things right.

  We walked for what felt like an eon before turning down the long dark corridor to the exit. As we reached the small green door, Melifinous halted us. Makha nodded to Steve, who limped painfully over to the door and opened it.

  The temperature dropped dramatically as we crossed from the paranormal to the human side of the Underground. A frigid wind bit the exposed skin on my face and tore through my layers as if they were nothing more than wet paper. The sweat on my skin cooled, sending shockwaves to my brain. I gasped, startled by the sudden change, but was pushed forward by Melifinous.

  We exited into a newly gentrified section of the waterfront near the southeast corner of DC. Gone were the older brick homes that housed the poorer residents of the city. In their place were units that used words like luxury or artisan to mask the reality that one demographic had been pushed out of their neighborhood in favor of another. One with a higher income.

  We were also nowhere close to where we needed to be.

  “Dammit,” I muttered.

  Steve glanced at me, but said nothing.

  Makha stepped through the doorway a moment later, pausing to admire the clean, well-lit alleyway.

  “Impressive. I’d heard most human cities were filthy. Apparently the unblessed wish to impress your people.”

  “DC has its ups and its downs. Let’s go.”

  “You don’t care to spend time in the streets of your subjects?” Makha asked.

  “I have a job to finish.”

  The Alpha glanced down at me, sadness touching his face. “My heart aches for your defeat, Creator. But you brought this upon yourself.”

  “I know,” I said flatly and continued forward.

  We moved out of the alley and down the wide, empty streets. Having worked in the city for so many years, I was disturbed to see it nearly abandoned. Even at night, DC was usually buzzing with life. But as alarming as the emptiness might be, I was grateful for the lack of bystanders. The last thing I wanted was more collateral damage from this mess.

  The Alpha drank in the cold concrete structures that surrounded us. “Such amazing progress. Your streets are lit and your buildings sturdy. I look forward to learning more about your history, Creator.”

  I ignored him, choosing instead to simply press on toward our destination.

  We hit M Street, then followed it until it became Maine Avenue and butted up against the waterfront. Lights twinkled off the Anacostia, the waters unusually calm. I reached out with my Skill, hoping to transfer the stillness of the element into my emotions, but the dampening of the Mystics muted my senses.

  At the corner of Maine and Ninth, I navigated us toward a small rise. The streets created a circle, but we followed a worn path in the grass to the top. As we passed Banneker Fountain, I winked at Steve, who bumped into me. I staggered sideways, falling hard onto the grass. Minotaur hands were on me a second later, hauling me upright. They gave me the once-over, apparently to ensure I wasn’t armed, then motioned for me to begin the long trek down L’Enfant Plaza.

  I focused on the dirt smeared on my hands. Despite the dampening spell of the Mystics, the direct contact forged a bond between me and the element. It wasn’t much, but did allow me to recharge a small portion of my inner battery. Energy pulsed through my body and the ache in my joints lessened.

&nbs
p; “What is that?” Makha asked, staring ahead of us as we approached the giant square archway of the Department of Energy.

  “Smithsonian Castle.”

  “It’s stunning.”

  No argument there.

  Framed beautifully by the DoE arch and bathed in soft light, the enormous red building shimmered in all its glory.

  Makha slowed, drinking in the sight of the structure. “This must be your headquarters.”

  “I wish. Ours is a boring cube with sterile hallways.”

  He frowned. “But you deserve to rule from such a magnificent palace.”

  “Tell that to the Elders. Who, by the way, are likely sitting near the base of that thing.”

  Makha followed my gaze, his eyes widening at the sight of the Washington Monument. The tall obelisk poked over the rooftops to our left, punching into the darkness like a stone needle.

  “Multiple gods,” the Alpha whispered. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “It’s a shrine to one of my people’s greatest leaders.”

  He stared at the monument in awe. “Your species may have forgotten much over the generations, but I am pleased to see that honoring your ancestors wasn’t one of them.”

  “We have our moments. Anyway, the Skilled were planning to set up shop near there. They’ll be ready for us.”

  Makha grinned. “I highly doubt they’ll be ready for everything.” He signaled to the Mystics, who moved closer to the front. The blanket extended ahead of us, smothering the elements for several dozen meters.

  Makha waved a hand forward. “Please continue.”

  I trembled as the anticipation of what was to come threatened to overwhelm me. What if Devon and Wells hadn’t had time to get in place? Worse, what if they had and decided to sacrifice us for the greater good? Plenty of innocent people had been killed throughout history because of that concept. I just hoped we wouldn’t join them.

  I led us around the Freer and Sackler Galleries, across the Twelfth Street expressway, and over Independence Avenue.

  Makha slowed as we stepped off the pavement and onto the dirt path of the Mall.

  “You’re taking us into the open.”

  “Yes. I want to give the Council plenty of time to see the situation at hand. They’ll be less willing to open fire if they see what’s coming.”

  The Alpha nodded. “A wise tactic. Very well.”

  Steve raised his eyebrows at me. I winked.

  The long column exited the neat rows of trees, moving gradually toward the monument in the distance. Flags fluttered lazily at the base, while floodlights bathed the surrounding area in a stark white glow. Foot by agonizing foot, we neared the structure, finally crossing Fourteenth Street.

  As we approached the modest stone house near the bottom of the small knoll, I strained to see any signs of life in shadows beyond. They were barren. No Skilled, no military, nothing.

  Dammit.

  The emptiness of the Mall was a pale comparison to the hollow feeling in my belly.

  Makha darkened. “I don’t see an enemy force, Creator. Perhaps we’re both in error this evening. You for trusting your people and me for trusting you.”

  I started to respond but froze. Out of the corner of my eye I caught the barest of movement. A slight waver.

  Almost like smoke.

  “Well, hot damn,” I whispered, my heart racing with joy. Then to Makha. “Sorry, but only one of us made an error.” I tapped the Skill I’d been nurturing since the fountain and drove a fist into his snout.

  Pain exploded in my wrist as the small bones screamed. But a busted hand was worth watching Makha’s head snap back. He righted himself, staring at me in shock before wiping blood from his massive nostril.

  “Melifinous,” he snarled.

  The guard was like lightning as he bought his blade to bear on me. I twisted to avoid the blow, but the sword never reached me. Instead, a crack of thunder shattered the calm and Melifinous jerked sideways. He turned back, his face tense with pain. Then looked at the small crater in his right breastplate that was leaking blood. Another crack and he dropped with a hole between his eyes.

  “Everyone down!” I shouted, throwing myself to the ground. The prisoners mirrored me, pressing themselves to the earth. Minotaurs roared in anger and frustration, but their attempts to kill the captives were cut short by a sudden wall of death.

  Tracers stitched the night as our hidden allies unloaded hell on the Minotaurs. Fanning out, the enemy dove behind the small stone hut and the protective depression of the pathways around the monument. But that cover was in limited supply, forcing many of them to move into the open, where they were easy prey.

  Steve appeared next to me, crawling low.

  “How’d you know?” he asked over the thunder of combat.

  “Recognized Quinn’s spell.”

  “Holy cow, dude. This was one hell of a gamble.”

  “I’m just glad they were actually here.”

  A bullet pinged off the stonework nearby as a Minotaur was cut to ribbons. Opposite the body, a Centaur galloped away from the battle while a Mage trailed him. Her arms waved wildly as she struggled desperately to form a protective Air Spell.

  “The prisoners are going to need relief from the Mystics. Without their Skill, they’re sitting ducks.”

  Steve scanned the area, zeroing in on one of the robed figures. “On it.”

  “Wait,” I called, but he was already moving. I cursed. Between the fog of war and the darkness surrounding our positions, Steve was as much at risk as the rest of the Minotaurs. Leaping to my feet, I followed him.

  Even with his severe limp, the guy was fast. He hobbled into the fray, pulling ahead of me as he headed directly toward the nearest Mystic. Bullets chewed the ground all around us and I yelped as several dug up dirt near my feet.

  One Minotaur saw Steve as he neared the Mystic and swung his crossbow at him. Before he could pull the trigger, however, a line of tracers lit up the sky. Bullets tore through his armor and he collapsed just as Steve hurled himself at his target. The pair went to the ground and the tracers shifted to their position.

  Skidding to a halt, I drove my fists into the dirt and called to the earth with every ounce of my Skill. Through the haze of the Mystic’s dampening spell, it responded, racing to me. The moment it hit my powers, I lifted my hands, raising a small mountain of dirt in the process. The bullets thumped harmlessly against the makeshift barrier and Steve drove his fist into the Mystic’s face several times. The enemy went slack and the world around me suddenly snapped into focus.

  “What the crap?” Steve shouted as I skidded around the barrier to join him. “I’m on their side.”

  “Minotaurs all look the same to humans.”

  “First, that’s offensive. Second, thanks for saving my ass.”

  “Anytime.”

  Bullets whizzed overhead, followed by shouts of alarm. I peeked over my mound. Dozens of Minotaurs lay motionless while the majority of the captives were sprinting toward the safety of the tree line. Some carried the worst of our wounded. Others limped furiously. A few even tried to fire off some spells, but those fizzled and died.

  Steve lunged from behind the barrier, grabbed the fallen Minotaur’s crossbow and bolts, then ducked back behind cover. He notched a bolt, aimed at the nearest robed Minotaur, and fired. The projectile slammed into the Mystic’s side and the creature dropped.

  “How many are there?” I asked as Steve loaded another round.

  “Couple dozen, maybe. Less now. They’re trying to cover a retreat.”

  Sure enough, the Mystics were slowly backing toward us followed by their armed counterparts. Several Minotaur soldiers fell to gunfire, but the rest were making good progress. A few even succeeded in returning fire, although any damage do
ne was hidden by Quinn’s concealment spell.

  They might be getting decimated, but they remained disciplined warriors, leapfrogging in order to cover one another. At the rate they were moving, Makha’s main force would disappear into the streets of DC in a matter of minutes. From there, they’d likely head back to the Underground maze. If that happened, we’d be forced to take this war to his turf once again.

  “No,” I growled, fury building in my chest. Steve drilled another Mystic and more of the surrounding environment erupted with life. Drawing that power to me, I clenched my fists and stepped around the barrier.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Steve asked.

  “Exactly what I said at Millie’s: I’m ending this.”

  With the forces of earth rumbling at my feet, I focused on the pain, rage and fear swirling within me. The emotions stormed like a hurricane, but rather than shape them, I simply dumped them into the spell that was forming in my mind. Kneeling, I pressed my palms against the ground, searching deep below the surface for the fuel I craved.

  My senses traveled beyond the snow-covered sod, through multiple layers of fill dirt, to the heart of the old Tiber Creek that had once run through the city. Buried deep below the asphalt and concrete was a system of ancient power that most residents of DC had long ago forgotten. The creek, mud and roots had seen countless ages pass, had watched the city grow, and had been waiting for nearly two centuries to once again taste the light of day.

  And I was more than happy to oblige.

  The energy responded immediately. It poured into me with a jolt, instantly filling my cup of Skill till it overflowed. Shivering with power, I stood and lifted my hands.

  Roots tore from the ground, exploding in a shower of mud and wood as they raced toward the enemy. The gnarly, twisting lines crashed into the Minotaurs and I closed my fists, wrapping the enemy in a crushing vise. They roared in surprise and slashed at their binds.

  Gunfire exploded with renewed ferocity. Bullets shredded the ensnared enemy, punching through armor and mutilating organs. Needles of pain stabbed my hands as small pinpricks of blood formed on my skin, but I refused to let go. Unable to escape, the Minotaurs fell by the dozens, butchered by the wrath of Normal weapons. In a matter of seconds, they were slaughtered like cattle.