by Greg Dragon
“Hey, look another survivor!” a young girl yelled and a number of people waved to her and came down to help.
“What happened to your head?” one of them asked, and she stared at him, curious as to what he was referring to. “I think she’s either traumatized or out of it, Sarge,” he said to a particularly gruff looking man whose skin was glistening with sweat as he walked in front of them with much purpose.
“We’ll get her to medical when we get back inside,” the sweaty man said, and they took her hands and walked her towards the bunker. So easy it is to slip inside of their hiding place, the huntress thought as she looked around for the sword girl. Alysia had already disappeared into the bunker with her father and with her missing, the huntress smiled in anticipation of her intent.
Chapter Three
“CeeCee,” the voice said. It was so light that Alysia thought she might have imagined it. Her mind would do that to her periodically as she sat next to her father’s bed and like the other times she heard it, she felt the need to investigate.
Her chair was on the side of her father’s bed, but he faced away from her so she got up and walked over to the other side. James Knight smiled when he saw her face, and it was an effort that seemed to be both pleasing to him and physically painful.
“Oh, thank God you’re awake,” Alysia said, ignoring the injuries and bandages wrapped around his chest to hug him tightly and kiss his face. “I thought I’d lost you, Dad, but I knew you wouldn’t go out so easily.”
“I wouldn’t do that to you,” he said with a whisper, and his words forced a painful lump in her throat that ended with tears painfully pushing their way to her eyes. Even with death looming he had fought. Not for himself or for fear of passing, but for his daughter, and it made her feel selfish for the way she had been acting. “I know that you haven’t had much time to grieve your mother. I know it’s not easy.”
“I’m okay, Dad. It’s not as if you’ve had any time to grieve yourself.”
“I’ve had plenty of time for reflection, CeeCee. You’ve been ducking and dodging death for many days now. The last thing you need is more grief.”
She couldn’t disagree. The days and nights had been traumatic since the moment her university had been besieged by giants. When her mother died she had cried, lashed out at Tracy, and cut off communication with her father for a time. At the time she was given a week to mourn, to be an emotional wreck, and to treat her father like it was his fault. She knew that he was terrible at being sick or vulnerable, and that no matter what she said, he would find a way to spin it around to become the protector or the one to blame.
He was a Special Forces veteran who had seen action the likes of which he would never tell a soul. She could not imagine what he had seen or done, but she knew that he was the strongest, toughest man she had ever known. He was also the reason why she had been chronically single since high school. Besides being a spoiled brat as a youngster, there was something about daddy setting a standard that she expected most boys to follow. There were some who came close and had really tried, but they just weren’t James Knight caliber.
“How are you feeling, Dad? Are you in pain?” she asked.
“I’ll live. How long was I out?” he asked. He looked around the room, taking in the reality that he was lying in a bed inside of the tiny bunker clinic.
“About a week,” Alysia said, getting up to greet whomever it was she heard outside the door. “I’ve been watching you whenever I can. Visiting to see if I could coax you to stick around in this world with the rest of us that love you.” He was touched by her words and averted his gaze to look up at the ceiling while she answered the door.
Tracy, who had come up to the clinic to see him, dropped her bag when she saw that he was awake. She ran up to the bed, beaming. “Well if this don’t beat all! I knew that you were too stubborn to die.” And she took James’s hand in hers and held it. “How long has he been up, CeeCee?” she asked.
“About fifteen minutes now, I think,” Alysia replied, observing the strange connection that Tracy seemed to have with her father.
“So much love … from everybody,” James managed as weariness took over his body and forced him to close his eyes to will it away. He squeezed Tracy’s hand, grateful that she had come to see him.
“Oh he’s talking!” she said, and brought his hand up to touch her face. “You deserve all the love in the world, big guy,” she said as Alysia continued to stare at her.
When Tracy caught her gaze and saw that it wasn’t a look of happiness that was reflected there, she made a questioning gesture and Alysia motioned with her head for them to step outside.
“I’ll be right back, Dad. I need to tell the doctor that you’re awake,” Alysia said, and then walked over to kiss him again before touching Tracy’s arm and leading her outside of the clinic.
When she got outside, she placed her back to the door as if she meant to block it. “What’s going on with my Dad, Tracy?” she asked as soon as Tracy turned around to face her.
“You mean his condition? You saw what happened out there with that demon. Before you came out there we—”
“I don’t mean his condition; you guys gave me the details. I mean, what’s going on between the two of you?” she said, but then she wanted to look away as Tracy’s eyes hardened. Still, she held her ground despite the gaze and stared at the tall redhead, as if that would force her to come clean.
Tracy sighed at the question. She couldn’t believe that after everything that had been going on with the monsters, Alysia—an adult herself—was acting like an overprotective child for her father. She didn’t think she had to explain herself to the girl, them being consenting adults after all.
“There’s nothing going on,” she finally said, letting the hard edge of her voice cut through to Alysia’s senses. “You know, even if there was, I don’t appreciate the attitude. Your dad and I are friends, what? Do I need your permission for that?”
Her tone and defensiveness made Alysia want to lash back out at her, but then self-doubt snuck in and she wondered if she was wrong for what she assumed was happening. She froze and looked away as she thought on it and then struggled with her words as Tracy looked at her, confused. It seemed like an hour passed before she spoke, but when she did her emotions got the better of her and it came out as a barely audible whisper.
“I just—I just need you to understand,” she said, and then stopped to compose herself as Tracy watched her, allowing her to finish. “Look Tracy … you can’t date my dad.”
“By date, I assume you mean ‘like’, right? Or do you mean, ‘love’? Wait,” she said and pretended to find it hysterical. “Do you mean something more primitive and crass, Alysia? You don’t want the dirty police lady to go anywhere near your daddy?”
Alysia found herself getting upset at Tracy’s mocking tone, but she held it together to finish the thought that she struggled to find the words for. “You’ve done so much for me since the day we met, Tracy, and I mean no disrespect. I look up to you in more ways that you think, but with my dad … what I think I mean is that I’m not ready for him to forget my mother.”
Tracy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. At first she thought it had something to do with her background, her manner, or something close to racial prejudice that made Alysia stand opposed to the idea of she and James being together. But now she saw that it was her mother’s death.
It felt like a million years had passed since she’d run into the bedroom to console Alysia over her mother’s passing. That day, she had received the phone call from her father and collapsed into a screaming fit. In reality it had only been about a month, and Tracy felt terrible for the entire situation.
“CeeCee, your father will never forget your mother, trust me. He talks about her all the time. Their love was the type that you read about in romance novels and you … you are his life. I understand your concern, and I don’t want to lose you as a friend. But know that I care about Jimmy; these last f
ew weeks together has caused us to become close, but it is no different than the closeness we would have if I were a man. I don’t know what else to say.” And she touched Alysia’s shoulder and walked by her to check in on James.
Alysia stood at the door, brooding, trying to digest what Tracy had told her. She saw a lot more than friendship in their exchange, and she wondered if she had really gotten through to Tracy or if she had merely told her what she wanted to hear. She put it out of her mind and walked over to the doctor’s bunker to let him know her father was awake. The door had a makeshift red cross on the door and when she went to knock, it swung open and she could see the big soldier sorting through his supplies and punching in information into the computer.
When she walked inside, the big, dark-haired man didn’t turn around. He had the standard buzz cut that one would expect a military man to have and he wore blue fatigues with a stethoscope. “You ladies finish having your lovers spat outside?” he said in a dry, sarcastic tone and Alysia slammed the door to force him to look at her.
“I got your ladies, Carmichael,” she said, and then gave him the finger when he finally looked at her.
“Figured I’d get the sexy ginger and not you, chocolate fury. You barely come visit me,” he said as he stood up to face her. “Still, you’ll do. I bet you clean up nice when you’re not trying to play at soldier.”
She kept staring at him with a slight smile on her face and fierce eyes. She wanted to show him that his words were meaningless, but she knew that it wouldn’t be enough. Nothing could slow down the tongue of PFC. Tony Carmichael Jr., the combat medic turned bunker doctor.
“Do you ever shut up, Tony? My dad’s awake. I wonder how he would take to his daughter being called ‘chocolate fury’ by a douchebag like you.”
“You know you love the way I talk to you,” he said to her and his wink caused her to roll her eyes.
“Keep on trying me, it will never happen,” she said as she gave him a long glance. She wanted it to confuse him, but she didn’t wait to see his reaction as she went back in to check on her father.
Tracy was still there and they were holding hands. Alysia noticed that they were talking in hushed voices and it brought back the feelings of betrayal within her. She had always admired Tracy but now that she was involved with her father—which was obvious by the way they looked at one another—it felt too much like a violation for her to ignore. She was a bit disappointed in her father; he was hurt and in recovery but he could have sent her away. He was just as bad as his red-haired “friend.”
She spent some time with her father while Tracy stepped outside, then she kissed him goodbye and walked back to her room. She saw that Carmichael had cornered Tracy near his office and a part of her wished that he would be successful with his advancements on her. That would keep her away from my father, but that isn’t how life works, is it? she thought, and then set foot to path in order to get home quickly.
The time of day should have been a little after 2:00 p.m. but the bunker was reflecting a look of night. Within the massive underground city, the ceiling would produce images that reflected the time of day, and she was expecting to see the artificial sun amidst artificial clouds, floating overhead. What she saw was the metal that comprised the structure, and a periodic flashing of the sky, indicating that the system was malfunctioning and there was an electrical issue.
“ATTENTION, THIS IS AN EMERGENCY BROADCAST,” a raspy voice uttered on a loudspeaker. Alysia saw the numerous people walking about stop and look up, and it was as if the entire world paused to listen to it. “WE NEED EVERYONE TO GO BACK TO YOUR ROOMS AND LOCK THE DOORS NOW. THERE IS A DANGEROUS ENTITY WITHIN THE BUNKER AND WE NEED YOU TO STAY SAFELY INSIDE OF YOUR ROOMS. WHEN THE THREAT IS ELIMINATED YOU CAN SAFELY RESUME YOUR OUTSIDE ACTIVITY.”
Alysia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. A dangerous entity? Was there some sort of psychopath loose inside of their bunker, or did something from the outside manage to slip in with them? The whole situation felt sinister and after the announcement only a few people were outside of their rooms being blatantly disobedient. Soldiers were running about, trying to stay alert, and they were armed in case there really was a breach.
She quickened her pace, unsure of what was going on. In her room, she had hidden the sword she had inherited from Donald. Having it there had been a small victory for her psyche. With the excitement of her father’s return and the retrieval of the dead soldiers, the security had become lax at the entrance and she was able to smuggle it in. It was expected that the military would keep order within the bunkers but her encounter with the demon had made her think differently about it all.
She made it past Jaime’s door and was about to check in on him when she felt the familiar chill that the demon used within the forest. She hugged herself and rubbed her arms as she looked around for an open vent or something else that could be the source of the strange wind. Everything looked the same, but she couldn’t understand how it could only be cold in that location.
She knocked on the door and waited for an answer, but the cold seem to intensify while she stood out there. Suddenly, Jaime opened the door and pulled her in. He slammed it shut behind her and handed her a gun as he put a finger to his lips to tell her to be quiet. They waited by the door, listening, and Alysia could still feel the chill from outside. Could it be her? Could she be here in the bunker? They waited for a few more moments in relative silence, and then Alysia heard what had caused Jaime to go into combat mode.
The sound was very low at first, but then it grew louder as they listened. It turned out to be the sound of a man whimpering. He seemed to be walking around outside of the house trying to get help—at least that’s what it sounded like—but nobody was helping him. As the sound grew louder, as if he neared Jaime’s door, the cold intensified and Alysia couldn’t help but think again of the demon huntress.
When she had returned from saving her father, she told Jaime all the details of their encounter. He had seemed more impressed with Alysia’s fight than of the demon, but he hadn’t stopped talking about it ever since. Jaime was ready and he had made sure of it by smuggling weapons into his bunker room, but what they were hearing was a man, not an attractive demon in a woman’s skin.
There was a knocking on the door, and Alysia’s heart went into her throat. The man was asking them to open up, but the chill he was giving off was telling, and they knew that the demon was with him. Jaime stood still at the side of the door, his tanned, handsome face drawn taut by his determination as he held the gun to his side, ready for the demon to kick it in.
The waiting went on for many moments until Jaime got impatient and motioned for Alysia to get behind him. He pulled open the door, and a slashed up, bloody Debdan sauntered in with the chill wrapped about him, and his mouth open in a cruel smile that revealed his intent. Where his eyes used to be stood black voids with deep red centers that glowed like lively embers. He had become something vile and corrupt, and the cold made Alysia think that it had something to do with the demon from the woods.
“No, not you buddy. Not you,” Jaime mumbled as he held his gun up, trembling, but Debdan was no longer in that body and Alysia recognized this. She stepped through the crippling cold and kicked him square in the chest, causing him to fall back outside of Jaime’s house and onto the street.
Screams were everywhere within the bunker as similar creatures to Debdan began to pop up and terrorize the unarmed citizenship. “We are about to be massacred!” Alysia shouted at Jaime, and her mind ran back to her father who laid helpless in the clinic, weak and vulnerable to the world.
“What happened to Debdan, CeeCee?” Jaime desperately asked. “We’re supposed to be cut off from them down here. Did we get breached, or did one of you bring it in?” he asked, frantically trying to make sense of his friend’s condition.
“The cold says it all, Jaime, and this is not the time to point fingers. We need to save these people and find the source. I think the demon that ran away from
us managed to come down here.”
She ran into her house and collected her gear, quickly slipping on the sword and scabbard and strapping her pistol to her leg. She had let her hair out for many days now, but she pulled it back into a ponytail, using the shoelaces from her damaged boots to tie it in place. When she was finished she sent a text to Tracy to let her know the situation. She then walked back outside to collect Jaime.
He was struggling with Debdan at his door, unable to hurt him but reeling from the chill that emitted from his body. Alysia walked up and kicked Debdan in the side, forcing him to release Jaime. She struggled with the urge to draw her sword, remembering how frightened the demon huntress was of its edge, but she didn’t know if Debdan was still in that body or if he was gone from them forever.
If he was still in there somewhere she would be a murderer, and the thought of killing another person made her hesitate in her action. Debdan stood up and rushed at her, but she pulled her blade free to hold him off. The edge glinted in the flashing light of the malfunctioning ceiling, giving presence to the hard work she had put into sharpening it during the week. She circled him until his back was to Jaime’s door, then she nodded to Jaime and he tackled him back inside the home where Alysia quickly pulled him off.
Jaime closed the door and Alysia used the hilt of her sword to bash in the fuse box which allowed the door to be operated. Debdan became a prisoner inside of Jaime’s home, and Alysia took Jaime to the side to talk to him.
“Jaime, look, we’re not even sure if that’s really Debdan. So don’t freak out on me when I really need you to be yourself.”
“It’s cool, I got it, CeeCee,” he said. “Just wasn’t expecting that guy to look like that. Then the fact that he was coming at me was just a lot to process. I’m good now, let’s go get this b—”
“You can’t take that,” Alysia said, pointing to the guns that he was cocking.
“Why the hell not?” he asked, looking at her as if she was crazy.
