by Rick Jones
Demir and his team, along with John Savage, immediately drew their weapons in response, an action that was drilled into soldiers until it became an involuntary act.
“Back up!” yelled Savage.
They did, backpedaling away from the orb as they maintained their line of sight toward the direction the halberd had been thrown from.
The recesses were dark.
The distant shadows were even darker.
But something began to emerge.
There were four of them, crosses between the old and new generations—hybrids that were sexless but seemingly male in stature. They were as pale as the underbelly of fishes as they appeared to glow against the contrast of the darkness, their skins smooth and waxy as they came into the beams of light.
“Oh my God,” somebody uttered. It sounded like Hillary, but no one other than the speaker was sure as to who spoke.
Each soldier held their blades high whereas the Sentinels led with the points of their halberds, the team converging.
“Stay close!” yelled Demir in Turkish. The group assembled into a tight mass.
Everyone backpedaled as the hybrids pressed forward.
“Now what?” asked Savage. It was obvious that the hybrids were far superior in physique and form. More importantly, they were in possession of a higher quality of weaponry when compared to their KA-BARs.
“We maintain our distance,” returned Demir.
“Until when? Sooner or later we’re going to run out of space.” In other words: fighting is inevitable.
The Sentinels began to spread out, breaking a tight formation, with two circling around in a flank maneuver, whereas the other two remained forward and center, both approaching, one with the tip of its halberd leading the way and the other, without its weapon, following closely as every cord of its muscles bulged and flexed in concert with every movement. They were as every bit as intimidating as their sheer size and power.
“They’re coming up along our sides!” yelled Savage. “Watch for the halberds!”
The two Sentinels flanking them had disappeared in the shadows. But everyone knew that they were maneuvering closer.
And then came the sound of a blade whipping across the surface of air, a halberd gliding in a horizontal plane looking for a target to strike down.
. . . Whoosh . . .
. . . Whoosh . . .
. . . Whoosh . . .
“Everyone duck!”
Everybody immediately hit the floor as the axe blade of the halberd passed over them in blinding revolutions with the blade missing Alyssa so closely that she could feel the whisper of its passing graze against her scalp.
In the distance they could hear the halberd hit the floor and skate off into darkness.
That only left two with weapons.
The Sentinels didn’t scream or communicate. They simply knew the pattern of warfare—how to maneuver and when to strike. The lead Sentinel picked up its pace for a full-out confrontation, the ten-foot pike of its halberd against a knife that was barely a foot long.
It charged with urgency and determination while its teammate kept pace.
No doubt their teammates in the shadows were doing the same, converging.
“Spread formation!” yelled Savage, moving to his right. Demir moved to his left while his two teammates maintained the central point.
Hillary and Alyssa fell back as much as they could, which allowed the soldiers to do what they did best: fight.
The lead Sentinel was upon them with flash and quickness, striking out with its halberd and missing one of Demir’s elite. The soldier juked beneath the blow and came up with an arcing sweep of his blade, catching the Sentinel across its abdomen and paring back its flesh to form the lips of a horrendous wound. The Sentinel appeared surprised as it staggered back into the clutches of its teammate, who appeared just as surprised at the apparent quickness of its foe.
The lead Sentinel clutched at its wound as the flesh began to give and part to the weight of its innards as they pressed against the opening and began to spill out in coils.
It then fell to its knees with its lips parted in a sneer, showing fine rows of teeth. Then its eyes narrowed as its life slowly began to slip away.
Without taking its eyes off the commando, the lead Sentinel passed the halberd off as if it was passing on the mantle of power, which the second Sentinel accepted. And then the wounded Sentinel fell back against the floor as blood the color of tar fanned out beneath it, its life expiring with a final sigh.
The second Sentinel was far more cautious, a quick learner.
It faced off with the two commandos and jabbed the point of its halberd in their direction, the action testing their reflexes, which it deemed to be quick. These were formidable foes, it considered.
Then when the opportunity availed itself, the Sentinel struck with the point of the halberd and pierced a soldier beneath the sternum, then it lifted the man high into the air as the commando’s eyes suddenly flared in pain as he was being held aloft in celebratory victory for the Sentinel.
With a flick of the halberd the soldier was cast aside and through the air, his lifeless body crashing down against the floor and into the shadows.
The odds were now even: three soldiers against three Sentinels.
But the deep darkness remained their ally as the other two closed in.
The other commando remained steady as he squared off with the second Sentinel. The point of his knife held forward and moving in circular motions, the movements acting as a distraction as he moved forward with imperceptible steps.
And then he struck out at the second Sentinel who quickly deflected the attack with its halberd with a deft move. The steel of the axe blade struck the blade of the KA-BAR, driving sparks from the impact that danced and died in the space between them.
Then they clashed, the much smaller commando against a much larger, much taller hybrid, the battle appearing so dissimilar that it looked as if a man was fighting a child. But the commando held his ground, striking out with flashes of amazing quickness, the KA-BAR hitting the staff of the pike, at the blade, coughing out spark after spark as the soldier tried to get closer for the kill strike.
But the Sentinel was too large and too powerful. With a sweeping arc of the pike’s staff, the Sentinel drove the handle across striking the soldier’s side, the impact catching the man in the side and snapping his ribs with the sound of branches breaking. The soldier was airlifted and sent airborne across the room. When he landed the Sentinel was standing over him with the halberd held high. In a vertical line the axe came downward in a blur and snuffed out the man’s life, leaving the enemy count at two.
Savage returned to the light and confronted this Sentinel from one side, whereas Demir approached from the other in flank maneuver. As great a warrior as the Sentinel was it was too slow to counter. Demir and Savage struck accordingly with the points of their weapons punching home by striking vital areas. Founts of blood jettisoned from open wounds, the Sentinel then going to a knee as the blows became swift and furious—cutting, slashing, and driving painfully deep as the Sentinel cried out, the halberd falling to its side, which Savage quickly picked up. In a movement that seemed hardly calculated but driven more by self-preservation, Savage swung the weapon in a perfect arc and caught the Sentinel across its throat, the axe taking out enough of its esophagus to render it dead with an immediate swipe.
The Sentinel fell forward; its great weight hitting the floor so hard it caused the ground to shudder beneath their feet.
Demir and Savage now stood back to back. Savage holding the halberd, Demir his knife.
There were two more in the shadows that no doubt watched in study and learned from Demir and Savage’s methods. They were skilled adversaries. So as good warriors they waited with the patience of saints.
“Alyssa!” Savage called out. “You and Hillary?”
“We’re fine,” she called back.
“There’re two more out there, so lay low!”<
br />
Their ears remained keen for the sound of the halberd speeding through space. But no such sound came.
So they waited for the inevitable.
And the inevitable came.
In the beam of Demir’s light the pendulum-like blade of the halberd’s axe-head came across on a level plane that was meant to sever Demir’s head from his body. But as Demir fell back he knocked Savage away from the path of the swinging blade, the axe missing the back of Savage’s head by inches.
Savage came up and around with his halberd as Demir knelt beside him. But the axe was so heavy in his grasp that he was too slow in his attempt for a quick blow.
In retaliation the Sentinel deflected the slow-moving strike and kicked out its foot, striking Demir so that the commando could not come up or across with his KA-BAR while it was engaged with Savage, the kick sending Demir off into the shadows and leaving Savage as its sole competitor.
Savage looked like a child circling a much larger combatant. But it was cautious as it mirrored Savage’s motions movement for movement. Apparently the Sentinel admired Savage’s skill set enough by not taking the smaller man for granted.
They circled one another in appraisal, each one seeking an opportunity to lash out to secure the moment of victory.
But Savage had marginal doubts about his ability as the halberd started to grow heavy in his hands, whereas the Sentinel’s weapon appeared weightless in its grip. If he was going to strike, then it would have to be soon.
The Sentinel struck out and drove a jab of the halberd’s point at Savage, the former SEAL quickly repelling the attempt.
Savage pulled back, the cords of his muscles standing taut as the halberd grew increasingly heavy. When his arms began to shake the Sentinel took note, smiled, and knew that the man was too weak to maintain the weapon for much longer.
In a quick move the Sentinel punched the tip of its weapon forward and connected with the staff of Savage’s halberd, the weapon taking flight from Savage’s hand. Savage immediately hunkered down and removed his knife, which brought something of a comical grin to the Sentinel’s face.
Savage held the point of the KA-BAR in the Sentinel’s direction, waiting.
The Sentinel then brought the axe blade portion of the halberd up with a swift and steady move, readying itself to bring it down in a diagonal cross-sweep. Just as it brought the axe-head up to its apex and readied it for its downward thrust, Savage tossed his knife with surgical precision, the blade crossing the air swiftly between them and lodging deep in the Sentinel’s chest.
The Sentinel staggered back with a look of deep-rooted surprise. For a long moment its eyes appeared vacant and devoid of any understanding at what just happened. Slowly, it brought a hand to the knife’s hilt and examined it as if it was something foreign. Blood tracked from the wound and down along its abdomen. Its movement was sluggish, the Sentinel in the throes of a waxing shock that was starting to take over its system. Its motions became mechanical and choppy. And then it lost its balance and fell to a knee. As it tried to gain its footing, Demir came out of the shadows with the halberd that was lost by Savage in the skirmish, and brought the axe-head down, the curve of the blade cleaving the Sentinel at the point between the shoulder and neck, the axe slicing all the way down through the clavicle to mid-chest.
The Sentinel’s eyes rolled, fluttered, and then it keeled over and landed hard against the surface, leaving one Sentinel left.
Demir appeared winded as Savage removed his knife from the Sentinel’s chest, the blade withdrawing with a sucking sound.
Savage gave Demir a nod of appreciation. “Thanks for the saving.”
Demir waved him off with a dismissive hand since it was a soldier’s duty to watch another soldier’s back.
“Alyssa!”
“Right here!” Her voice was very close as she and Hillary stepped from a dark recess embracing one another. “There’s another,” she told him.
He shook his head. “I know.”
There were only four lamps left, one for each survivor. So the lighting was weak and minimal, offering the last Sentinel a significant advantage.
No one moved as they tried to get a fix on the last Sentinel by listening—perhaps a shuffling of feet to give off its position.
But there was nothing but silence, which in itself was terrifying.
Demir looked downward at his teammates. Blood was everywhere. Worse, he had lost his entire unit. The commando suddenly fell to his knees, feeling overwhelmed by a sense of colossal failure. When a commander of his stature and culture was groomed to show a skinny range of emotions while serving his post, Demir failed to do so.
“Demir,” whispered Savage. “What the hell are you doing?”
Demir did not respond. The man kept his eyes low.
“Demir.”
The Turkish commando finally let out a sigh. “I failed my team,” he said.
“The only thing you’re failing at the moment is yourself. Now get to your feet. There’s another one out there.”
Silence.
Then: “It’ll wait for as long as it needs to in order to find the precise moment of attack,” said Demir. “It’ll use the darkness as its ally.”
“Then we need to move on.”
Demir got to his feet. “What we need to do is to get to the sphere,” he whispered, holding his knife. “We need to finish the mission.”
“We need to get out of here.”
Demir turned to Savage. “We’re near the top of the cap,” he said. “Maybe a few levels down. You need to get Professor Hillary and Ms. Moore topside.”
“What about you?”
Demir held up the knife. “I’m going to save the world,” he said as if in jest.
“You need to come with us.”
Demir pointed his knife at the direction where the Sentinels entered the chamber. “They came through there,” he said evenly. “Follow the course.”
“We’re not leaving you behind, Demir.”
“Look,” said the commando. He lifted his knife to showcase its forged perfection. “I’ve made my choice to stay with my team. It’s your duty, John, to see your team through.”
Savage looked upon the faces of Alyssa and Hillary and could see the stark realization that Demir was professing the truth, both as a soldier and as a man of strong fortitude.
Savage took a step toward Demir and offered his hand. “You’re a good man,” he told him.
Demir took his hand and gave it a vigorous pump. And in a voice that was almost too soft, he said, “Now go.” And lead your team to safety.
They released their grips.
Nothing more was exchanged between the two men. Their looks of admiration said it all.
Demir was offering them a chance against all odds.
The Turkish commando immediately pivoted and made his way toward the sphere, knowing that he was posing as a significant threat that would cause the last Sentinel to give chase and cut its losses with the much lesser threat of Savage and his team. In the shadows, Demir knew it would follow his every move.
He quickly made his way to the sphere.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
It had followed Demir along the fringe where light connected with shadow, always keeping to the darkness. Its footfalls were quiet and stealthy, its eyes drawing a keen bead on Demir as it held the halberd tight.
Savage and company had pulled out of the danger zone, so they were immaterial at the moment. Once it dealt with the primary threat, then it would give chase and cut down the rest.
It knew the humankind’s intentions, knew by the way he held the knife as he made his way toward the energy sphere. The man was prudent, keeping his head on a swivel and always looking.
But as he drew closer to the sphere the Sentinel became bolder by edging into the light and closing in on its mark.
Demir saw it coming.
The soldier hastened his pace as the glow of the sphere brightened and the humming became louder, the shine of its pea
rlescent light reflecting off his face.
The last Sentinel followed with a speed of its own by quickly closing the gap between them, the Sentry raising the axe-head of the halberd high.
Demir raised the point of his KA-BAR knife at the sphere that was warm and inviting.
The last Sentinel was now on top of him and feet away from the glowing orb. With a powerful swipe of the halberd’s axe-head, Demir ducked and rolled beneath the horizontal swing of the blade and came up to a standing position.
The Sentinel quickly reared back to proffer another blow, the blade arcing high over its head, and brought it down in an attempt to halve the man in two.
But Demir was quick, the warrior rolling to his right, the axe-blade striking the floor with a metallic clang.
Demir went to strike the Sentinel with the point of his knife, to drive it deep, but the Sentinel was just as quick as it brought a backhand across and caught Demir on the shoulder, the power of the Sentinel strong enough to send Demir across the air a good ten feet before he landed and slid beneath the energy sphere.
As Demir looked up he became mesmerized by the living designs of pearlescent color as they moved in perfect harmony within the shape, the soft shifting and graceful motions capturing his attention in a hypnotic way.
Then he felt the floor vibrate as the Sentinel closed in swiftly with the halberd held high.
Demir’s eyes shifted. He could see the blood lust in its eyes, could see the anticipation of the kill in its features. It was something he had seen too many times before in the eyes of his enemies—the look of savagery.
The axe-head of the halberd came down in a perfect arc, the crescent-shaped blade catching Demir at the point between the elbow and wrist of his left arm, the limb severed cleanly with surgical precision.
Demir rolled to his side as his injured arm became a tabernacle of pain, the nerve endings firing up with white-hot pain as he staggered to his feet.
Blood rained down against the floor, the man’s face growing suddenly pallid as he swung his blade haphazardly with his good hand, the knife finding nothing but open air.
A smile drew upon the Sentinel’s face, a grin of malicious amusement as it closed in.
