by Paul A. Rice
He shook his head to dispel the sound of the old man’s words. The surrealistic nature of his predicament rolled over him once more. Here he was, fresh blood still spattered on the toes of his boots, sitting under the stars, sitting and waiting for the dawn to arrive, whereupon they would go and confront the last Demon, conquer him and save whatever it was they were supposed to be saving.
‘Yeah, what is it that we’re supposed to be saving again? Stuck here and risking our necks to prevent a handful of people from being burned to a crisp and then sucked into a giant black hole in the sky…’ His sanity did a little somersault at the idea. ‘Crazy, plain crazy, is what this is; it’s just plain crazy!’ The thoughts made his head tighten, Ken wished that he had some of George’s liquor; a couple of stiff ones would be most welcome right about now, just to help knock him out. Shaking the dark feelings out of his mind, he rose to his feet, picked up the rifle and walked around their perimeter.
Prowling silently through the darkness, he would pause every so often to let the quiet noises of the night come to him. Crickets chirruped in the nearby undergrowth, some night bird screamed above the rock face, and away in the distance he caught the lonely howl of a predator, its feral noise wafting up to him, effortlessly carried across the desert upon the back of a cool night breeze.
Life sounded quite normal out here in the wilderness.
‘Normal...this isn’t even close to being normal!’ The thought made him shiver. He rolled down the sleeves on his shirt and returned to the protective lea provided by the overhanging rock. His position was an ideal one as the huge shadow from the rock covered him with its blackness. He sat and watched the desert floor below as it reflected the pale moonlight, which poured from behind him. It made Ken feel like some ancient, eagle-eyed hunter, sitting and waiting for the dawn to break, waiting for the new day when the hunting would begin again.
Just for once he let his little mental partner have a whinge. ‘When is the time gonna arrive when I’m gonna be able to stop doing all of this crap?’ he thought. Then, with a wry shake of his head, and whilst forcing himself to getting a grip, he reminded himself of the current situation, letting the old soldier within automatically contemplate on how he would try and approach this position, should he have been the enemy.
He hadn’t even gathered his thoughts when the sudden, muffled ‘Crump’ of an exploding hand-grenade echoed over the top of the outcrop, its distant percussion springing Ken straight back into his usual character. Standing quietly, he moved across the moonlit ground to wake Mike, as he approached the Spear, his eye was caught by a white flash upon the screen in his own vehicle. Stooping into the cab, he tried to focus on its dimly illuminated glow. The screen seemed to have come alive of its own accord.
‘What now?’ he thought. Glancing at the screen again, Ken caught sight of a moving light. There, in the top corner of the monitor was the symbol of the Light Maker, and it was glowing as it moved. ‘They’re moving!’ Ken tried to orientate himself, the dot was blinking as it moved down the screen and its angle confused him at first. He realised it was because the Spear was facing the wrong way and the screen was actually showing him a scene from behind his position, beyond the rock face to his rear. By the angle of the blipping white light, he guessed the device was now level with them and probably on the track where he’d killed the Afghans. His thoughts leapt into action. ‘Yes, they’ve fallen for my little surprise – some people just never learn, the suckers!’
Ken hoped that Red was now on his own, or perhaps full of shrapnel himself...‘Yeah, that would be even better!’ he thought, maliciously.
However, the rapidly moving white dot told a different tale, whoever had been left alive obviously still had the device, and by the looks of things they were making good progress down towards the main road. Ken watched as the blink rapidly headed straight toward Highway One. After one more glance at the screen, he spun around and started running towards Mike’s vehicle.
As he neared the darkened Spear, he was surprised to see Mike already up and in the process of exiting the upwardly sliding door. ‘There’s an alarm sounding in my wagon, is it the perimeter? What’s happening?’ he asked, still half asleep as he clambered over the front seat.
‘It sounds as though they’ve found my grenade, but someone is still moving,’ Ken said, ‘and whoever it is, well...they’re heading back down to the main road, and in a big hurry by the looks of it. We might be able cut them off, but I don’t think we can make it in time, not even if we hammer these.’ He nodded at the Spears and waited for Mike to digest the information.
Mike agreed and then suggested that perhaps they should manoeuvre the Spears so the screens overlooked the main road far below, by using the screens they would at least be able to see who was moving past. He said it was unlikely that Red would go further away from the base, because it was where the portal lay, so if he wanted to get back to George and be one of them, then he was going to need the tiny hole in the SD House.
Ken started his Spear and turned it so that the front was facing back down the valley toward the road. Mike jumped into the other side and caressed the screen, his actions causing it to zoom rapidly onto the road far below them. By pure luck they were in a good position and easily able to observe at least two miles of the route as it passed between the hills.
Seeing the amazing view which the screen provided, Ken whispered: ‘How good are these things, eh? That’s a bloody great picture!’ Taking time to think, he then suggested that maybe Mike should place his Spear in a position watching the other way, just in case Red had figured out their position and this was nothing more than a diversion to get them looking the wrong way…
Mike clambered out, saying: ‘I’ll just watch our backs; you see what they are up to when they come past on the road. I reckon he will definitely head back to the airfield...’ He turned away to jog back to his vehicle.
Nodding in affirmation, Ken continued to watch his monitor.
Five minutes later, he shouted Mike over.
‘What’s happening, mate?’ Mike asked, breathlessly sliding into the passenger seat. Ken pointed at the white pickup that raced across the screen.
Even from this distance, they saw Red’s ponytail flapping as he wrestled the truck over the broken ground. In the rear, manning the machinegun was a lone Afghan, who, by the looks of things, was badly injured, his left arm dangled uselessly by his side whilst he clung desperately to the pistol grip of the weapon with the other hand. Each bouncing jolt of the suspension nearly threw him overboard and his posture was one of desperation. The two watching men were almost able to smell the fear on him from their distant position. Red was merciless with the whip he administered to his bucking bronco of a vehicle.
Ken laughed and said, ‘Look at old Red going for it, watch him go, now there’s a man in a hurry if ever I saw one!’ He wished that he were in the gunner’s seat of a Main Battle Tank...‘Yeah, that would put an end to this right now, one well-placed depleted-uranium round and that would be the end of it. ‘Kaboom’ and it would be goodbye, Red!’ The thought filled him with the desire to enter battle.
Mike’s whisper filled the cab. ‘And goodbye to the Light Maker as well, you lunatic!’ Ken looked across in surprise. Mike said, ‘I can hear your bloody thoughts from here, Ken. I know what you’re like, mate!’ He shook his head and continued watching the screen as the racing pickup bounced away from them.
Almost as it was about to leave their field of view, the truck swerved violently to one side, the sudden movement leaving a long trail of sparks flying out into the darkness, the flurry of sparks were followed by a red gleam from the truck’s brake lights. Staying firmly ablaze the rear lights rose into the air, and as the men watched in surprise, they witnessed the unbelievable sight of the Ford’s nose dropping viciously into some unseen void. The taillights hung upright for one brief moment, before abruptly turning turtle and then crashing over the top of the truck as it tossed itself into an upside down position. The
last thing they saw was the Afghan gunner clinging onto the barrel of his murderous weapon. In a large plume of dust, the vehicle disappeared from view and flopped into the crater.
‘Yes, yes, yes!’ Ken punched the air with glee. ‘Have some of that, you bastards!’ he said, through clenched teeth.
Mike grinned at him in the darkened cab of the Spear.
Ken grinned back, saying: ‘Oh, what happy days these are, Mister Wyppen – what happy days indeed!’ He roared with angry laughter. It was a rare thing indeed when the enemy simply rolled over in front of you, his mind did a small jump for joy at the thought and he banged out a quick drum-beat on the steering column with his hands.
‘Come on then,’ he said. ‘Let’s go and finish the job, it looks like George, or someone, has given us a helping hand, no more running around the desert like lunatics looking for this prick, Red’s right there – upside down and waiting for us to join in the party, and it’s gonna be his own fucking goodbye party!’ Ken couldn’t contain himself and laughed once again.
They decided it was exactly what they would do.
‘Let’s go, last one there’s a loser!’ Mike shouted, racing across to his Spear.
And so, with the sound of thunder bursting forth from their engines and a roaring within their hearts, the two men exploded from their hiding place and headed down to where their final confrontation awaited, to where Red lay trapped.
It would have been an eerie sight to anyone who saw them as they rocketed past in the darkness, orange moonlight glinting against the dull flanks of the Spears, engines howling into the face of an approaching, velvet dawn. Racing into the dark without headlights, guided by the dimly glowing blue screens in front of their eyes, gravel and dust spitting away from under their giant tyres, they hurtled into the teeth of the Dragon.
The blinking of the Light Maker gave Ken a strong signal as he turned left onto the main road, the small light was still moving upon his screen, which was now showing the heat signature of the wreckage ahead of them. Through the darkness, and through the sides of the crater, his scanner showed the outline of the upside down Ford ahead. Two shining, people-shaped, glares showed him where the men were. One lay under the vehicle and was very still, whilst the other figure was making its way out of the hole and heading away from him, the signature of the device shining as it moved with him.
Ken floored the Spear’s accelerator and with an immense rush of power, took off like a banshee after the last man. The distance between the vehicle and his quarry shrank rapidly. ‘Split up when we get there, he’s still moving, you go left and I’ll take the right, try and go around the crater!’ he shouted into the microphone. He began to feel the adrenaline rush burning his eyes. In typical fashion, its release slowed everything down as the moment of truth arrived. He felt as though he was floating, racing towards Red, floating through time.
That same time had now begun to slow almost to a standstill, yet Ken still saw the trees and rocks zooming by the windows of the Spear, stars blurring as they rushed overhead. His was an unstoppable, headlong charge towards the enemy. It was only him and the rocketing vehicle beneath, hurtling into the teeth of the Dragon. And then time did stand still for Ken, he felt as though he had been paused, frozen, by some unseen force. He yelled at the blue screen. ‘Come on! Come on!’ Then, abruptly, as though he had somehow leapt across that frozen portion of time, he saw the pit appearing, the dust from Red’s crash still floating like a mist over the deep hole.
‘Breaking left!’ Mike’s tense voice boomed in his ears.
Ken replied, saying: ‘Okay, I’ll see you on the other side – don’t get out 'til I tell you!’ He wanted to see what the situation was before he let Mike do his thing.
‘Yeah, Okay...I’m moving now!’ Mike’s confirmation came back as they veered past the beached truck in the crater below. Heaving like two fishing trawlers in a force nine gale, the Spears carried the friends across the shattered ground either side of the vicious hole, and then upwards towards the road again.
Then, at last they saw their quarry. Red was there.
He stood before them – at last they had him.
Red stopped and turned toward the howling noise of Ken’s Spear, his shining figure looming large upon the display screen. For one second, Ken made the decision to run him over – the giant of a man would make a lovely smear on the Spear’s huge bonnet, a lovely red smear. With his senses screaming in denial, Ken hit the brakes, standing the massive vehicle beneath him on its nose.
Mike slewed to a halt on his left. ‘What now?’ he asked, cautiously.
‘Good question,’ Ken said. ‘Let’s see what he does, I’m pretty sure that he can’t see us as well as we can see him.’
Red turned around and they saw him squinting into the darkness, trying to see across the fifty yards that lay between him and their menacing Spears. The words of some unknown film trotted through Ken’s head as he sat and stared into the screen. ‘Don’t bother running, pal, you’ll only die tired!’
Red wasn’t in the mood for running any more that night. Instead, he raised his weapon and fired a full clip of ammunition at Ken’s vehicle. As the muzzle flash flared in the blackness, Ken heard the pebbles entering the village pond once more. ‘Choom-choom, bloop-bloop…’ The weird sound filled the cab as Red’s bullets smashed into his windscreen. He almost heard Red’s surprise as the warheads fell harmlessly to the ground outside. He knew Red wouldn’t have seen them, but the lack of sparks, or any sort of damage, even in the dark, must have been totally disconcerting to the giant of a man.
Ken flinched slightly, being behind something totally see-through and yet utterly impenetrable was a brand new experience for him. He sat still for a few seconds, saying to Mike: ‘Let’s wait a bit, shall we? He’ll get the message in a minute; let’s see what he does, yeah?’
Mike’s whispered, ‘Uhuh…’ oozed over the intercom.
Red obliged their curiosity with a well-placed 40mm grenade fired from the hip, the projectile hit squarely in the middle of Ken’s windshield. This time there were plenty of sparks as the anti-personnel shell exploded with a loud bang and a flash of bright orange light. The liquid screen of Ken’s Spear effortlessly absorbed the immense shock of the blast. For a fraction of a second he saw the glass bulge inwards as though it were made of jelly. As he ducked in reflex, Ken saw the screen flex, it quivered briefly and then unbelievably returned to its former, serene shape. Not even the slightest shock wave entered his compartment; all he heard was a weird sucking sound and watched in disbelief as tiny pieces of red-hot shrapnel pirouetted across the roof and bonnet. The flash in front of his face caused him to blink and left little orange candles burning in his vision. He was thankful for the sharp reek of burnt explosives that filled the cab as their pungent odour put some much-needed reality back into the situation.
Mike’s scream split the air: ‘Kenny! Are you okay?
‘Absolutely fine,’ he replied, calmly. ‘This baby is looking after me!’
‘Fucking hell, mate!’
Ken heard the relief in Mike’s voice. He told him not to worry and revved the engine in defiance of the shooter. As the raucous bark of the exhaust echoed across the desert, Red took a deliberate glance over his shoulder, almost as though he was contemplating some form of impossible escape route.
Instead, unbelievably, he threw his rifle away and, with a swift flick of the hand, made his pistol emulate the whirling trajectory of the departed rifle. The weapons disappeared into the darkness. Ken watched them on the monitor and saw that they both now lay well out of Red’s reach. He checked his adversary on the screen – Red appeared to be unarmed and was standing in front of them, arms down by his sides with those huge palms innocently spread open towards the Spears. The yellow laces on his boots made a weird pattern on the monitor, glowing with an almost incandescent green upon its blue screen.
Raising his right hand, Red reached into the breast pocket and took out the pebble. The Stone, as it had don
e in the dream, started to glow with a dull green light. He held the pebble towards them, as if in offering, then lifted his left hand to his mouth and made a talking motion with his fingers. Bending forward, he placed the Stone upon the dusty ground in front of him, then manipulated something...twisted a hidden switch...with a bright flash the Stone was no more. Instead, it had now taken on a spherical appearance, the shape of which reminded Ken of his old, aluminium, pressure-cooker back at home. The thing glowed and then darkened, Ken couldn’t really see it properly and even when he made the screen zoom in, the device still appeared to be almost transparent.
Raising his huge body upright, Red stood with hands on hips, facing them with his teeth gleaming in the monitors. Looking directly at the Spears, he made a beckoning motion with his head and then reached into his jeans and pulled out another object. Ken tensed, waiting for the next trick that the ponytailed wizard had up his sleeve. He needn’t have worried, all Red did was twist the top off his tin and then insert a wad of chewing tobacco into his mouth. Turning away, he flicked the small tin over his shoulder and resumed his previous posture. Hands on hips he waited for them as the faint artery of a premature daybreak spurted blood red light into the dark sky behind his huge figure.
‘Right, come on, let’s just do this, you get him to move away from the device, and I’ll take it from there!’ Mike’s voice had taken on an urgent sound.
Ken acknowledged, saying: ‘Okay, but keep ten yards between us. Right, let’s go – follow me!’ He touched the door and stepped out into the darkness.
Mike did as he was asked and together the two men walked through the half-light of the breaking dawn, eyes wide and nerves straining, rifles in the alert position, muzzles firmly trained upon Red.
Approaching, they heard him laugh. ‘What took you so long, boys?’ he said. ‘I’ve been waiting on yo’all for weeks now! I thought that maybe’s you pussies weren’t coming, thought maybe’s ya never had the gumption, the balls, ya know?’
