We did what was desired of us. I found myself crouched behind the APC only a couple of feet away from my toes being submerged in water. In my peripheral vision, I saw a jeep, not distinct from the other military jeeps, pull up next to us and the four soldier passengers mimicked our movements, though I’m sure we did not look as composed as they did.
“Major!” I heard the lieutenant say to one of the newcomers.
“Lieutenant Crosst,” one of the men responded in a raspy voice. He looked to be my age and did not strike me as someone who could carry such a high rank. “Glad to see you made it this far.”
“I would like to get a little farther,” said the lieutenant. “Where’s our ride?”
“They won’t come until the threat is neutralized,” regretfully explained the major.
“Okay, I’ll just start swimming then.”
“I’m sorry, but they won’t risk becoming the likely targets if they get close.”
“Is there a plan?” my mother asked the major.
“Just give me a minute, ma’am,” he told her.
“I can at least do this,” said Yitro, lifting his arms just enough for me to notice that he did. A wall of sand and rocks rose about five feet from the ground, surrounding everyone in the group and leaving open the view of the rolling sea behind us.
“You’re a spirit warrior?” the lieutenant asked, the other newcomers remaining in speculative silence. “And I thought you looked good before.”
Whether anyone else said another word or not, I didn’t notice. Grabbing my whole attention was one of the recently arrived soldiers maneuvering himself for an enhanced position within the sand wall. As he moved to stand near me, I saw him step into the water as it swelled onto the shore. He created a small splash, but the gentle ripple in the water created a tidal wave in my mind. Seeing the indent of his foot gradually fading with the ebb, an idea coyly circled around in my brain and exited my lips.
“Yitro, how large a wall can you create?” I asked him, sounding as eager as I felt. “I mean, do you think you can make one like this, but big enough to surround the APC?”
“Probably,” he answered, sounding as perplexed as I was sure he felt, but he didn’t seem at all tentative. “What do you have in mind, old-timer?”
Ignoring him for the moment, I turned to the major and asked, “Can you order all vehicles to group up in front of this APC, especially tanks, and get soldiers on foot to us here?”
“I suppose,” he said with the same perplexity as Yitro. “What are you getting at?”
This was one of those times I wished they all could just read my mind so I wouldn’t have to explain, so I expounded as hastily as I could. “The biggest advantage the Injectors have are their invisibility, but they’re not ghosts, they still affect the area they’re in. So if they step in water or wet sand, we should still see the ripples and their footprints.”
“I see,” the major responded. “You want them to flank us, to force them in the water so we can see them.” He looked at me with a sort of excitement, but it transmuted into shrewdness. “But then what? Those things don’t fall easy and we have no idea how many there are.”
“I don’t think any plan will work if more than one comes at us,” I said, using a tone to assure him I had thought ahead, “but they’re not stupid and they’re not too afraid of our weapons. I think they’ll only send one to flank us and see what we’re doing, but when we see where it is, that’s when we can get it stuck. And by ‘we’ I mean Yitro.” I turned to him, as did everyone else who knew his name.
“Me?” he said, almost as if he was lost in his own thoughts before coming back to what was in ours. “Oh, you mean sink it in the sand?”
“Yes,” I said. “Do you think if you knew where it was you could hold it down for a little while?”
“No, guarantees,” he said plainly. “It depends on how strong that thing is.”
“It would only need to be long enough to get every tank and jet the chance to have a few shots at it. Do you think that’s possible?” I generally asked the soldiers.
None of them seemed all that enthusiastic or especially confident with what I was saying. I wasn’t expecting it, but a little affirmative reaction would have been helpful. It was quiet in our compact group for several seconds before the lieutenant spoke her mind.
“We can laser target it. That usually doesn’t work, but if we can get enough of us to do it and if it’s immobilized-”
“Fuck it,” brashly interjected the major. “It’s not like we have a shit load of options. I’m on board.”
Once he gave his orders over the radio, every capable vehicle began to gather in front of and alongside our APC to construct an impassable, at least to us, barricade of metal. The imposing wall of steel, stretching halfway to the forest, fortified my confidence in my plan. About forty to fifty soldiers then joined us behind the metal hurdle that many of them had some part in forming. With them following orders that undoubtedly made little sense, and seeing the wall of sand and rock around us that looked to have taken hours to gather, it was no wonder to see many donning a befuddled look on their faces, as no one had time to clarify the strategy.
Their confusion soon changed to absolute amazement when they all saw Yitro taking his command of the beach’s sand and began warping the ground around us to formally begin the arduous undertaking. I began to detect the preceding confusion the soldiers carried had all but disappeared, almost as if everything now made sense to them, even if nothing had become any clearer. I watched the stimulated sand and rocks start to tremble between our APC and the tank in front of it. Faster than I thought possible, thousands of pounds of Evon amassed and rose to an impressive fifteen feet into the air. I was ready to believe the seashore wall was going to keep rising until it reached the company of the stars, but I was soon reminded of its true charge when I saw it began to curve around the APC. The bulging beach embraced our group from either side, and the mass tapered toward the seawater behind us, decreasing its size significantly when it stretched beyond the APC until it completely shrank away into the soothing bearings of the ocean. The barrier, and the first phase, was complete.
Even being so close to the riotous blasts of weapons fire stemming from the artilleries in front of us, I could still hear the heavy breathing of Yitro, the effect of what was indisputably a strenuous feat. Eloram was holding on to his shoulder while he struggled not to meet the ground, but I could not say he shared her concern for himself, for all I saw was a pleased smile that could not be abated, gazing at his work in much the same way an artist might regard his masterpiece. It could be assumed that this was the most he had ever warped thus far, but I didn’t put it behind me that there was more yet to come. The tanks and vehicles that were so gracious as to join us were commanded to continually fire into the thin forest. It didn’t matter if there wasn’t any sound to be heard or movement to be seen from the enemy. It must be made certain the Injector, or Injectors, would not simply climb the blockade. I prayed that there was only one to contend with. The unbridled shells were raging incessantly, shaking the beach and Yitro’s arresting creation, but nearly every grain of sand and granule of stone held on to its trifling place in the vital structure.
All there was left for us to do was to wait for whatever shape the future melded into. There was no use anymore to pray for the best and there was no preparing for the worst. We wanted to face our enemy. If we were going to die, then it was going to be fighting. I had heard what many commanders did when many of their underlings became infected. They would order airstrikes on their positions if their army became overwhelmed, preferring fiery death to living as sullied creatures. I felt easy knowing I could die in a swathe of flame rather than turn into one of them. All eyes stared intently into the ocean, waiting for a sign to see if the bait was taken. I was squatting at the right side of the wall, up to my hips in water, scanning the surface with everyone else. The waves came and went, sheathing my legs for a moment before they drew back to the
sea, ensnaring me in their endless cycle. I did not know exactly what I was anticipating, but I did understand that, when it happened, I would know.
Suddenly, all colors developed into a grayish hue, except for what I noticed to my right no more than fifteen yards away. Between the crests of the illuminated waves, I saw something on the water’s surface that I knew not to be of nature’s creation. To call it a splash or ripple would be inaccurate, for all I saw was a strange shimmer on the water’s surface. I waved over Yitro as soon as I perceived it and pointed it out to him. He turned to me, with no mark of surprise or horror on his face, but one of conviction, understanding our next step.
“Major,” I called in as loud a whisper as I could make it, apparently afraid the Injector could hear and understand what I was saying. “Can you have your men fire there?”
He nodded as he glanced in the direction I had pointed out to him and composed hand gestures that only soldiers could recognize. He then yelled, “Open fire!”
Without delay, a hail of metal struck where not one eye was deviated from, revealing the colorless being’s misty outline. Before it could take another step forward, it appeared to have clumsily staggered backward. I turned to Yitro to see his arms extended and aimed at the Injector’s slice of the ocean, wearing the most focused look his face could ever fashion. Eloram was still by his side, lest he would need her to catch him. Whirling back at our foe, I saw it continue to skirmish against the whirling sand beneath its feet, sinking a little deeper with almost every movement. There were numerous red laser dots coming from the soldier’s guns placed on the besieged machine. The laser beams scattered much of their light when they reached the cloak of the Injector, much like how regular light bounced off a mirror. I hoped the quantity offset the quality. Through all of this, I would occasionally see the Injector free itself from Yitro’s grasp, which made my heart reach my teeth each time, but the spirit warrior always managed to reclaim his hold.
“Target designated!” howled the major into his radio. “All forces fire at will!”
Every one of my senses were bombarded by the storm of weapons fire from all the armaments within reach—assault rifles, grenade launchers, machine guns, and tanks—causing my adrenaline to skyrocket to its utmost point and blurring my surroundings. At some point, massive pillars and cavalcades of water engulfed the Injector’s scrawny frame as aircraft missiles struck its position at the brink of the coast.
Once this cascade of water settled, I thought to have caught a glimpse of the demon’s true form, its cloak ripping open in places to reveal sections of its alien visage. From what I was able to surmise, the Injector was of a pearly white shade in nearly every portion of its main body. Flailing in disarray at the ends of its two gaunt arms were dozens of cable-like apparatuses, the same ones I had seen dexterously bind my wife. These were of a metallic hue of silver and were probably as thick as the needles they likely fired. The last feature I caught was a featureless face at the end of a long, flexible neck of silver. There were no discernible eyes, sensors, indentations, or markings of any kind on the triangular-shaped head, which didn’t have any sharp corners or sides. It was merely an unsympathetic, bleached blankness staring at us for the split moment before another curtain of water rose up to shroud it from view. Its features, or lack thereof, reinforced the idea that these were machines, but the life-filled aura I experienced from before was not so easily shrugged off.
Two more stampedes of airborne projectiles collided with the partly entombed target, concealing it longer than I liked. Virtually all weapons ceased shooting at once, leaving the ringing in my ears as the only sound I could perceive. The major must have ordered the cessation, but I never heard it expressed. The waves created by the blasts continued to lap on those standing in the water. Progressively, the water stabilized to what nature had intended. Yitro was exhausted from his toil and he couldn’t stop himself from collapsing on his knees this time. Eloram was on her knees alongside him, but their sights were at the same spot, brightened by the light from the moons and stars. It was difficult to make out, but there was something resembling metallic crumbs resting lifelessly on the surface, rising and dropping with the waves.
“Designate it again!” instructed the major. “No chances!”
However, before more than two laser dots supplanted themselves on the remains, the Injector submerged. Whether if it was by its own choice or not, we didn’t know, but that did not stop us from mindlessly taking a few steps back from the water’s edge. I did not hear anything for a long minute. No ruffle of clothing on the wind, not the dwindling ringing in my ears, not my heart beating, and certainly not the waves meeting the shore.
With nothing occurring after that minute, the major said to his radio, “Pickup team, the target was successfully repelled. No sign of multiple targets. Requesting immediate pickup.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Adrift
I felt afraid to be relieved, fearing it would only be pulled away as soon as it established itself. The water was lapping up on shore without any sign of irregular movements, that is, until my eyes refocused farther out on the horizon. The silhouette of a form I had never seen before appeared, not seeing how it could have been any ordinary boat. It ballooned as it cruised toward us in haste. A dull roar also became perceptible. I then realized some measure of the roar came from a couple of huge fans at the back of the transport. The rest of the droning resulted from the engines sucking in the air, allowing the craft to glide over the water using a cushion of air. It was a hovercraft. I always knew they were large, but I was not prepared to see something capable of carrying a few tanks. The amphibious vessel propelled itself onto the beach and greeted us by lowering its ramp. A few vehicles also joined our evacuation, but I was in too much in a haze to notice anything else. Actually, being atop the craft did not help my spirits too much. It was obvious we had the space to fit a group twice as large, making it feel far to empty. For the first time, I felt the number of survivors diminishing.
With another Injector likely not far behind, the hovercraft glided off the beach as soon as the ramp elevated off the ground. Using my knowledge of lunar astronomy, I saw that we turned east. We clocked several more miles in that direction before sighting the stern of a large Navy ship in the distance. As we neared it, I saw that the ship had a large ingress, permitting the hovercraft and other similar vessels to dock within. Siena later informed me in her quiet way that it was known as a well deck. We entered the ship with no sign of the evil presence in pursuit, not that I still didn’t feel like it was there.
“Oh, this is the Arians,” said Siena when she caught the rustic name written above the entrance.
“What about it?” I asked, watching her eyes gazing intently at the words.
“Nothing,” she replied, shaking her head to release the trance she was in. “I just remember Helmtor was almost stationed here before someone changed their mind.”
Her voice was practically imperceptible. She walked away, leaving me to stare at our newest haven’s name until we passed under it. The hovercraft docked inside the ship behind another of its kind.
As we were disembarking the hovercraft, I overheard someone inquire, with a voice that would be hard to neglect, “Who’s the spirit warrior?”
I turned to find a tall naval officer addressing the now dwarfed major, who in turn pointed out Yitro in response to the shipmaster’s question. Yitro had regained most of his strength and looked to be his normal self again, with the added glow of having just escaped death’s corner.
“Not bad, son,” the officer respectfully said to Yitro. “You helped save a lot of lives.”
“Thanks, but I just followed his idea,” Yitro responded as he turned to regard me.
In a single long stride that covered the length of three ordinary-sized steps, the naval officer came up to me and scrutinized my drooping frame, which made me feel more than a little uncomfortable. I never thought myself as short. I knew I was above average in height, but
I felt no better than a child with him towering a head over me. He would have made a good defender in shockball in his younger days, if not at that moment.
“Welcome aboard my ship,” he said in his domineering tone. “I’m Captain Fideon. You are?”
“Roym Rosyth,” I answered, my drained voice by no means rivaling his.
“Well, Mr. Rosyth, I’m glad to meet someone who can keep their head long enough to create any kind of plan, especially one that works.”
“We got lucky. There was only one.”
“I’m sure you and your group are famished,” he said abruptly, relaxing his tone as he skimmed the other members of my party. “I’d like to hear all about your ‘lucky’ plan in detail over a meal, if you don’t mind. Info on any defeat of theirs is always useful and hard to come by.”
“Sure, that sounds fine, uh, sir.”
“Good. My men will show you to some sleeping quarters to clean yourselves up. Not everyone in your group has to eat now, of course. If they would rather get some rest first, that would be completely understandable.”
It was Neves and Delphnia who were not ready to eat and talk with the rest of us. They let themselves retire to their chambers. Those who wished to eat were led into the mess hall, where the captain was already waiting for us at a table in the middle of a room that could fit four hundred people, and which currently held less than thirty. Various plates of fish and fruits were also prepared for our arrival, the biggest feast I had seen in a long while. The captain and another officer to his right let us eat for a few minutes in peace. The captain ate with us, but at a methodical pace, as his eyes were, more often than not, on me. About halfway through our meals, I could sense the captain was eager for us to start the description. Yitro and I were the ones who recounted our recent history. Seeing as I came up with the plan, I did most of the talking. The narrative went by uninterrupted, our hosts hanging on to our every word, looking as if they were hearing a fairytale. When the last word was spoken by Yitro, the captain remained silent for some moments, his eyes casted down at the brink of the table with his finger circling the rim of his half-filled glass of white wine. The silence persisted as he mulled over the new data. His eyes finally rose back up to us.
A Depraved Blessing Page 21
