by Glen Johnson
It looked like a theatre of war.
I noticed a few figures lying around in the debris. A couple midgets that were flattened by flying masonry. A mothman here and there, bloody stones lying beside them; the flying instruments of their death.
My worst fear though was still intact. The gateway seemed operational. The once gleaming surface was now pitted and scratched by flying stones, wood and twisted metal, but the overall structure looked unaffected.
I then realized where I was being dragged. The key pod. Smoker was still going to bring the others through.
I was still struggling to breathe; my vision was now spotted with black dots. Even so, with my last ounce of strength I tried to wiggle loose. To no avail.
My brain was seriously lacking oxygen.
Before I had time to struggle, time to defend myself, I was no longer in smoker’s grip, with a bone-crushing slam I was thrown into the cylindrical pod. Several ribs felt like they had broken from the jolt. The heavy black casing slammed shut around me.
I remember thinking I was back in my bedroom when I was nine. My older brother had jumped me as I walked in to change from my school uniform. Before I knew what was happening I found myself inside the smaller of our two wardrobes. Hardly being able to move, my breath seemingly restricted by the darkness and silence of my imagination. All the while my sadistic brother would be laughing, banging his fists on the wooden door.
My eyes refocused bringing me back to the moment at hand. My airway was now open, sucking in every atom of oxygen my lungs could hold. The spots faded. Fear now gripped my pounding heart.
A gap ran around the front of the pod, leaving me just enough room to see what was transpiring outside.
The old male farmer was walking about, kicking the bodies on the ground. None responded.
Smoker was standing in front of an elaborate panel of some kind. His putrid grey hands flicking unseen controls. He then stood back, standing into something. His eyes fixed on the outer ring of the smoking gateway.
A deep rumbling started, making the pod beneath my feet vibrate then jolt.
The ring started to turn, slowly at first, then at an incredible rate of speed. Another inner ring now activated, turning in the opposite direction. Around the outer unmoving section, large metal clamps unhooked, now protruding outwards. These then started to glow a green in colour, until the light was almost impossible to look at.
All the while I could feel myself become weaker and weaker. My life was being sucked from me. If only I had one more charge, to take the bastards with me.
My brain done one more calculation before it was about to be shut down.
I had two lumps of C4, one in each pocket. If I could only just reach the timers. The pod was a tight squeeze, but not tight enough to stop my body from wiggling around. Pulling at my arm with all the strength I had remaining, I forced my arm up. A crack resounded, the pressure had broken my humerus bone, now my soul was inching away, so was my life force. My body screamed in pain, but adrenaline is a powerful chemical, it washed away most of the excruciating throbbing, replacing it with sheer anger about what was happening to me.
It wasn’t like the movies, with the hero thinking about all those that would die because of his failure, it was a purely selfish thought. I didn’t think about what would happen if the gateway opened, about the billions that would perish. What did worry me was what was going to happen to me.
I don’t want to fucking die!
Why me? Why was I picked? Why couldn’t I have died peacefully at my desk, writing? Or in bed?
Fuck everything! Fuck them! Fuck the gods!
Fuck it!
Now or never. If I have to go, I’m gonna take some of the bastards with me!
My weak grasp wrapped around the plastic C4, my shaking fingers feeling the small timer. I had set enough to know what button was what without needing to see the small devise. I hit one minute – it was the smallest number that could be programmed in – and pressed the countdown timer switch. I just hoped I had a minute left.
With that done my arm now relaxed. Pain was shooting up and down my triceps brachii muscle and into my shoulder; I think when my bone broke it severed some of the muscles around it. But even so I almost felt relaxed.
The events leading to death are unique to everyone, so I couldn’t presume to know how others felt before breathing their last breath. But for me, once the last step had been taken, peace then engulfed me. I was content, knowing I had less than a minute left on this world.
I would soon be joining all those I had set free. I felt at ease. Strangely, for the first time in my life I felt ready for something I didn’t truly understand.
Was it this way for everyone? At the last moment did the body relax, give in to the inevitable?
A loud rushing sound brought me from my peaceful thoughts.
The gateway was opening.
The meter wide section between the outer and inner ring was sucking everything in, the smoke, loose debris, all flying into the spinning gap, then being crushed and pulled through. At the same instant the middle ring now radiated with a white light, not blinding, but putting the mind at peace.
Smoker stood transfixed against the control panel. His feet clamped into binders holding him in place. The old farmer either hadn’t had time, or being unaware, flew across the clearing, along with all the other debris, hitting the outer ring before being pulled through in a bone crushing, bloody mess.
Smoker gave a wide Cheshire cat smile. The hair that remained on one side of his head was flying about. His powerful hands still gripped the control panel.
A song could be heard, tinny and almost drowned out by the sound of the portal. Besides Smoker, stuck down with duck taped to the panel in front of him was an old tape deck. Possibly the sons or from the old farmhouse kitchen. It was playing Bat out of Hell by Meatloaf – The sirens are screaming, and the fires are howling way down in the valley tonight…
The shaking stopped and a high-pitched screaming filled the air and drowning out the music. The white light of the inner circle now had silhouettes against it.
Reapers were coming through. Mothmen by the hundreds.
Then above all the sounds resounding around me I could hear a small beeping echoing inside the pod.
The timer on the C4 was about to hit zero.
Then it did.
41
Closed
The explosion knocked me senseless. I lay sprawled out on the ground, confused as to why I was still alive. Pain was raking across the right side of my body. I looked over towards the gateway.
The force the turning gate was using was phenomenal, sucking in everything around, stones, timber and smoke, as well as the blast from the detonation. Or so I believed at the time.
As the C4 ignited the pulling force sucked the billowing flames in, being absorbed by the spinning ring. The blast also ripped away the side of the pod, which then flew toward the gap in the ring. The flames and powerful force of the blast was absorbed, but when the pods thick black casing hit the spinning ring it didn’t break down, rather in ripped through the outer ring like a hot knife through butter.
The gateway then became unstable, and along with its twisted frame it started to buckle. The central ring also twisted as the outer ring grinded against it, with an ear piercing screeching sound. Sparks were flying everywhere, along with the sound of metal being contorted. The rings started to glow red, then white hot from the friction.
The white light from the gateway started to fade away. The outer ring then wobbled alarmingly. The large powerful clamps snapped free one at a time and ricocheted of the spinning sections. One chunk hit the ground close to me, half burying itself, sending up a plume of mud and steam. I could hear the sound of the rain hissing on its hot surface.
Then the outer ring ripped free from the gateway, twisting and turning over and over like a huge detached Ferris wheel. The spinning red hot metal struck the remainder of the collapsed farmhouse, ripping its way th
rough remaining walls, more glass shattered, bricks flew, roofing tiles and wooden roof beams billowed up into a dusty cloud. The impact destabilized the turning wheel which toppled to the steaming ground. Falling debris started to rain down on top of it.
The fading light in the inner circle started to blink on and off, with the silhouettes screaming out in protest as their entrance was being closed down. A handful tried to pass through, but because the gate was unstable they flew apart, like a balloon full of red paint, they popped over the remaining, slowly spinning contorted inner wheel. Their deep red blood boiling on the hot metal, with acidic steam pulled along by the gates momentum.
I lay there, trying to comprehend why I was still in one piece. Only the clothes on my right side were smouldering slightly. Then I noticed a glowing under my chin. I struggled up onto my elbows and was rewarded by the sight of the amulet glowing green with an inner power. Had it saved my life? I could think of no other answer.
The rest of the gateway now faltered, gave way and fell backwards like a useless hunk of steaming metal that it now was. It crashed down with a reverberating thud, sending up more debris into the already thick laden air. Its light wavered and blinked out like a candle in a storm.
Movement caught my attention.
Smoker was still clamped down in his foot restraints, trying with all his might to get free. His one good eye locked on me. The remainder of his mouth was mumbling something over and over. Hatred and anger was boiling from him. But the clamps seemed to have distorted under the onslaught of what just happened to the portal.
Smoker’s clothes had been blown away. The skin that was left on his body was blistered and smoking, pulled taut over baked brittle bones.
Weren’t the four alien creatures in the pods, inside the now destroyed ship, their real bodies? How was he still functioning? In a last gamble had he transferred all his energies into this decaying form?
As he struggled with his clamped feet I slowly climbed to mine. Staggering slightly I made my way across the scene of devastation. I held my broken arm, cradling it.
His eyes never left me, and with his last ounce of hatred he wrenched his feet free. One of the bindings broke away; the other foot remained in the clamp. He made his way towards me on its stumped remains.
The amulet around my throat glowed brightly. But because of his heightened anger he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He slowly marched towards me. Lips continually moving, muttering some mantra only he understood.
I stood my ground, trusting in the power of the amulet that had saved my life moments before during the explosion. In a way the amulet had achieved what the old man had said it would, only in a more round about manner.
In one last pitch effort he leaped the distance between us, flying like a demon conjured from the fiery pits of Hades.
I stood transfixed, no longer having the energy to fight back. My arms now hanging placid at my sides, my chest rising and falling, just having the strength to keep myself standing. I couldn’t even feel my broken arm anymore.
He landed, his chest heaving with anger. Two skeletal hands came up and clamped around my throat, now squeezing away the last ounce of my life. Spots started to swim in my vision. My hands weakly came up to defend myself.
But he was consumed with anger and hatred. His one remaining bloodshot eye was wide and penetrating, watching my life drain away. The Cheshire cat smile plastered on his face.
Then I saw his features change. No longer hatred or anger, but confusion.
His face was turned down towards the green illumination that was originating from the amulet around my neck. The green light was shining through my tracksuit top. His death grip was released, and he started to slowly stumble back away from me, his remaining eye never leaving the light coming from under my top.
Then the ground started to shimmer.
I was either hallucinating from the lack of oxygen circling my brain or ghostly images were crawling from the soil. Hazy greenish white outlines of naked people started to climb from the bowels of the earth, as if ascending a ladder. Looking similar to the souls that were trapped inside the large soul’s tanks on the ship – the very ones I had released.
His eye continued to swivel in the remains of its socket. He turned this way and that, trying to keep all the figures in view. He was now inside a slowly shrinking circle; made up of the souls he had caused the death of, summoned by the amulet to reap their vengeance.
I fell to my knees, my palms flat on the wet steaming ground. The necklace having swung outside my top, now glowing with an amazing inner power.
The circle was closing fast. More wispy images joining the others. Souls emerging from everywhere. They simply walked out of the thin air, becoming solid, if that word can be used.
The hair on their heads was swimming about them, as if from an unearthly wind. Some were still crawling from the ground. Others walking from the remains of the trees, as if they had become part of the object. All heading towards him.
My eyes met smokers for the last time, pure fright now radiating from him. Looking like he was pleading for me to come to his aid.
Not in this lifetime, asshole!
He then disappeared behind the wall of shimmering souls. All of them with outreaching hands, mouths wide as if screaming abuse at him.
A primeval scream issued from the remainder of his lips. He disappeared down behind the ghostly apparitions.
The smoke, steam and rain that was surrounding these strange manifestations started to move – the earth itself started to rise – a vortex of unbelievable strength started to spin around them. I could see a glimpse of his arm, trying to reach outside the consuming circle.
Rocks started to roll along the ground toward the now blurry green haze. Gravel and soil rolling as if it had become liquid. Everything heading towards this strange gathering of force.
Wind whipped around my face. Everything was being pulled into this strange vision. Large green flares shot out of the gathering, only to be instantly pulled back in. A blinding white light now issued from the centre of the ghostly group. They seemed to be spinning around him, along with the stones and soil. Then suddenly an ear-shattering thunderclap resounded across the whole area. A bolt of fork lightning flashed, hitting the dead center, it then spread out, like an exploding donut-ring of power, to engulf and wash over everything.
A warm tingling sensation spread over me, as the light passed through me. After it had passed my eyes had to adjust back to the dark night.
I climbed unsteadily to my shaking feet, and looked across to where the vortex had been. Now all that was there was a gathering of stones that in some abstract way represented a person. All the souls had vanished, as if never there.
The rain continued to fall and smoke continued to rise. The scene was of complete devastation.
I walked across towards the statue. One section was similar to an outstretching arm, trying to escape. The dead had had their revenge.
My head turned, trying to take in the complete scene. The corpses that littered the ground, as well as all the earth around, seemed to have been made into one huge crop circle, everything pointing towards the statue.
I felt light headed, everything catching up with me. My eyes rolled back in their sockets, and I fell forward, hitting my head hard on the ground, knocking me unconscious.
42
The Incomprehensible
I felt my body go weightless. My mind waking with a start. Was I dead? I had achieved all I could, if this was death I would welcome it, embrace it with open arms. I was so tired. Eternal sleep sounded like a reward for everything I had accomplished.
“No, this isn’t death,” a familiar voice stated.
I gained control of my senses. I felt the hard cool ground beneath me. A slight breeze was blowing against one side of my relaxed body. Now my ears picked up a hubbub of noise, a background white sound.
I knew I couldn’t stay like this. I rolled onto my back then opened my aching eyelids.
I stared up at the highest ceiling I had ever seen. The chambers roof arched away in the distance, purple tinged clouds trailed around its open top against a light ruby sky. The chamber walls didn’t look metal or rock, more like a kind of organic compound, grown this shape rather than carved or built.
A loud murmur started to rise and the echoing sound of many shuffling feet.
I rolled onto my side.
I lay in the middle of a mountainous circular amphitheatre. A kind of open pit area with bluish marble flooring. I stared out towards countless circular sloping galleries of tiered seating sections that disappeared beyond my reach of vision.
