The Defense of Reality

by cory. barnett

  “They make good lookout towers.”

  “What do you see now?”

  Chris took a deep breath. “Azo’s army is camped there.” He pointed in the direction of City Hall. “They’ve been there for over a week. A couple thousand of them from what I can tell.”

  “Azo?”

  “He’s kind of a rogue general. It was his strike team you met earlier today.”

  “What does he want?”

  “Rothman says he’s looking for some kind of magic box. I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

  “If he has an army, why doesn’t he just cross the, um, the Veil thingy and take what he wants? I mean there is only four of you Grand-Canyons.”

  “Gracanjos. Gra-con-joes. And the portals across the Veil are small. They only fit one or two at a time. He’s been trying to sneak his army through slowly, but we’ve held them back so far. And don’t call Rothman a Gracanjo. He might hurt you.”

  “What about Agnew? Is she one of you?”

  “Yeah. She and Melody came down from Philly to help out.”

  Mencken stared to the west. He tried focusing and unfocusing his eyes, like a kid in a mall trying to decipher a Magic Eye puzzle. All he saw was the city at the end of the day. Cars passing one another. People walking about. Nothing out of the ordinary.

  Mencken felt a pit in his stomach. Time to address the big issue. “Sorry I had you arrested,” he said, sheepishly.

  “It’s fine. You didn’t know. And you paid for it.”

  “Thanks for being understanding.”

  “I’m good. But Agnew. She’s kind of pissed at you. You know, since your little stunt got her truck torched and all.”

  Mencken grunted. “It was a piece of shit anyway. Does Imani believe all of this?”

  “Her uncle was one of ours. He was stationed in Boston.”

  “So what now?” he said. Before the words finished sliding from his mouth, there was noise on the ramp behind them. Mencken turned to look. Jose, Rothman, and Agnew were coming toward them. They weren’t dressed like they were going to battle. No armor. No shields. No visible weapons. Jose and Agnew were both in gray sweat pants and t-shirts. Rothman wore flowing black pants and a skin tight black top. He carried a pair of black, forearm length sticks in his right hand.

  “Any movement?” Rothman called.

  “They’re lining up,” Chris replied, hopping down from the wall.

  The trio arrived at the car. “We should take up offensive positions,” Rothman said. “Can you tell from what direction they will enter?”

  “Hey Mencken,” Jose said, waving.

  “Hey, kid,” Mencken replied. “Thanks for pulling me out of there.”

  “Sorry we didn’t get there sooner,” Jose said with an apologetic shrug.

  “I’ll know when we get closer,” Chris said to Rothman. “I can’t tell from this distance.”

  “How many?” Agnew asked.

  “A couple thousand,” Chris replied. “And they have Egrats. At least fifty.”

  “Good,” Rothman said. “They’ll clog the hole. Only one will fit at a time. It’ll create a bottleneck. If Azo deploys his standard tactics, well face Mardocks and Slakes first. The Egrats will come last. He’ll try to push us back to create time for them to join the battle. He deployed the same strategy in the third battle for Constantinople.”

  “How that turn out?” Agnew asked.

  “All were lost save me, the city fell, and I was forced to flee across the Bosporus. We reengaged in the field of Elaia. There we were victorious. Azo had achieved his objective, though, and had already fled the field of battle. As he knows I am present, he will most likely attempt to use my memory of the defeat to demoralize us.”

  As Rothman was talking, Jose whispered to Mencken, “An Egrat’s a huge, eight-foot-tall beast with horns like a bull.”

  “Thanks,” Mencken whispered back.

  “Just don’t want you to get lost,” Jose said with a smile.

  “Oh,” Mencken said looking down at the teen, “I’m way past lost.”

  “Anything else about that battle we need to know then?” Agnew asked.

  Rothman looked into the air, trying to recall. “There was a preemptive strike force then, as this time. They took positions in front of the portal, creating a fifteen-yard perimeter. A steady stream of fresh troops poured from the opening. Two at a time.”

  “Sorry about having you arrested,” Mencken whispered to Agnew.

  “You owe me a new fucking truck, asshole,” Agnew whispered back, her eyes filled with rage.

  “What turned the tide in his favor?” Chris asked.

  “Geography. Constantinople was built on seven hills. Azo made his entrance at the top of the third hill, giving them the advantage of higher ground. We were overcome from the sheer exhaustion of battling uphill.”

  “City Hall isn’t on a hill,” Mencken said.

  The group pondered this for a moment together.

  “Azo knows I can see him,” Chris said.

  “You think he means to change the field of battle at the final moment.” Rothman replied.

  “With no buildings or traffic in the way, a jog from City Hall to the top of Federal Hill would be easy,” Jose remarked.

  “Does he have spies on us?” Rothman asked.

  “Yeah,” Chris said, peering over the wall. “There’s two Slakes at the entrance of the garage. They’ve been following my car all day.”

  “A Slake looks kind of like a cross between a rat and a man,” Jose whispered.

  “Thanks,” Mencken said.

  “Long noses. Long tails. No hair or fur though. Just skin, like a man,” Jose said.

  “Weird,” Mencken replied.

  “Yep,” Jose said. “They’re creepy. They slide on their bellies. Jump around a lot. I hate them.”

  “Focus, young one,” Rothman said without looking at Jose.

  “If it were me,” Agnew said. “I’d open the portal at the crest of the hill, give my troops a running start through the park, and then have them pour down the hill toward the harbor. I could assemble my army at the bottom of the hill. Pressing down on you wouldn’t be a problem. The hill is so steep, I could almost jump over you.”

  They all sat in silence, pondering the problem.

  “Okay,” Chris said, finally breaking the silence. “I have a plan. But first we need to lose our tails.”

  Chapter 24

  “This is stupid,” Mencken said as he pulled the car down the garage ramp.

  “Why?” Jose said with a smile. He sat in the front passenger seat.

  “Because it is not going to work,” Mencken said.

  “Why’d you say that?”

  Mencken took another turn. “Because Chris and I look nothing alike.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Jose said, waving Mencken off.

  “He’s what? Five-six? Five-seven? I’m six-foot-one.”

  “They won’t notice.”

  “He’s got a full head of hair. I’m bald.”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “I’ve got a beard. He’s clean-shaven.”

  “So.”

  “I’m black. He’s white.”

  “Okay,” Jose said, shifting in his seat to face Mencken. “Here’s the deal. These things, they don’t die. They just reincarnate back in their home realm. And that doesn’t happen often, so most of them are really old. And I mean like, really old. Thousands of years old.”

  “So?”

  “So they don’t see us as individuals. We don’t live long enough for them to care about our differences. We’re like blades of grass to them. Do you know the difference between each blade of grass?”

  “No,” Mencken said, pulling up to the exit.

  Jose looked forward. “Exactly. Besides, these two idiots are just following the car anyway. Make sure you wave,” he said. “They’ll notice that.”

  “They’re on your left,” Chris’ voice said through the cell-phone speaker. “Driver’
s side.” The phone rested in the space under the parking brake between Jose and Mencken.

  Mencken pulled to the exit and stopped. “This is stupid,” Mencken said through a forced smile. He waved to the invisible monsters outside his window. Then he pulled the car forward and into the street.

  “It worked,” Chris said. “They’re following you. Take your time. We’ll see you at the Hill.” Then the phone went dead.

  They drove in silence for a moment. Then Mencken turned onto Caroline Street. “I need you to explain something to me,” he said.

  “Just one thing?”

  “Undecided,” Mencken said, his eyes on the road. “What’d you mean, undecided?”

  “I meant, you don’t know who you are yet,” Jose replied. There was a simplicity to his voice, as if Mencken’s question was the easiest thing in the world to answer.

  “I know who I am.”

  “You’re at a crossroad,” the teen replied.

  “This is stupid. I don’t know why I even brought this up.”

  Jose shifted in his seat pulling his feet up to sit cross-legged. “You’re trying to decide where you are going to find fulfillment: by pursuing your own glory or as a member of a family. Right now, you’re undecided.”

  “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “The touch doesn’t lie,” Jose said, facing forward again.

  They drove in silence for another minute. Mencken turned right onto Fayette. Mencken broke the silence, “Do you think they’re still following us.”

  “Yep,” Jose said. “Slakes aren’t so smart. Azo likes them because they follow orders.”

  “Huh,” Mencken replied. Changing the subject he asked, “That night at Imani’s, when Chris lost it?”

  “Rough fight. We lost Melody,” Jose seemed suddenly distant at the girl’s name. “Azo lost more though. He was pissed, so he followed us home.”

  They took another block in silence. Again, Mencken broke it. “You don’t know what you are talking about, by the way,” he said. “I’m not all about my own glory, and I can be about me and be part of a family. They aren’t mutually exclusive.”

  “Okay.”

  Mencken slowed so they would get the red light at Central Street. “You’re just a damn kid. What do you know?”

  “I know stuff,” Jose said.

  “I can have both,” Mencken said, pulling the car forward.

  “Okay,” Jose said.

  “This is some life you’ve got, kid.”

  “It’s really more of calling.”

  “It’s nonsense,” Mencken said. “Make-believe insanity.”

  “Was that make-believe that pulled your teeth out?”

  They crossed President Street. “It’s only a few more blocks now,” Mencken said.

  “I know,” Jose said. “This is my city.”

  “Right,” Mencken said. “I forgot you walk an ultra-marathon every day.” He turned the car on Gay Street. City Hall appeared on the right. The white dome and marble steps looked stately and powerful, like something from a different time, when politicians were philosophers. On the large green mall in front of the marble steps, stood three pale, weight-lifter looking monsters. They were incredibly out of place among the passing suits on cell phones. Mencken thought back to the black, swirling eyes staring down at him and shivered.

  “Pull the car up there,” Jose said, pointing to an empty parallel parking spot.

  Mencken followed instructions. “Now what,” he said as Jose opened the passenger door.

  “Now you wait in the car,” Jose said loudly as he walked around the car. From his back pocket he pulled a pair of black, fingerless gloves. Mencken watched in awe as the teen put the gloves on and then closed his fists. Two translucent, blue, circular blades materialized from the gloves covering the back of the teen’s hands, extending a half-inch past his knuckles.

  The monsters saw Jose coming from across the mall. One of them pointed its sharp finger at the boy and gave orders to the other two. They turned and walked to meet the teen. The horrible smiles they wore told the story of the violence they intended to commit on the teenager.

  Mencken pushed his car door open and stepped into the street. He didn’t have a plan. He just knew he couldn’t let the young boy face these beasts alone. They would tear the small teen apart in seconds. Mencken jogged a little, trying to catch up to Jose.

  Passersby stopped to watch the confrontation, aware that something was about to happen but confused as to what they were preparing to witness.

  “Wait,” Mencken called to Jose. “Wait for me,” he said. Jose was only fifteen yards from the beasts now. Mencken could see the smiles on the monsters’ lips. Their sharp teeth gleamed with delight as their intended prey walked confidently toward them.

  Jose did not turn around. Rather, at ten yards out, he broke into a sudden run. It surprised the towering beasts, causing them all three to come to a stop.

  Jose closed the gap quickly. The one in the middle sprang forward with both arms, hoping to grab hold of the teen. Jose ducked under its arms. Planting his left foot, Jose delivered an uppercut with this right fist. The blow contained shocking power. Jose connected with the monster’s jaw, knocking the massive beast backward. The blue circle on Jose’s fist split the beast’s chin like an axe splits firewood. Black ooze splattered in all directions. The monster fell backward with a scream.

  Pivoting on his right foot, Jose swung hard with his left, hitting the second monster in the back of the knee. The beast fell with a scream.

  Jose completed his three-hundred-and-sixty degree spin with a sharp left jab to the third monster’s face. The beast’s mangled face sprayed a shower of black ooze over Jose.

  With all three monsters down, Jose went to work. Standing over the first, which was writhing on its back, Jose separated the beast’s head from its body with a crushing, downward right punch. Moving to the second, which was holding its severed knee and shouting in pain, Jose delivered a left jab to the face. Again, the blue blades on his hands cut through the monster’s flesh and bone.

  Jose turned to finish off the third, but it lay motionless, face down on the ground. He kicked it with his right foot. It didn’t respond. Satisfied, Jose turned a walked back toward Mencken. The teen was covered in the black gunk. It was splattered across his face and clothes.

  Mencken, like nine other passersby, was frozen with horror. He’d never witnessed such efficient and effective violence before. He no longer perceived the thing walking toward him as a short, Hispanic teen. This thing, this Gracanjo, was a monster of a different breed.

  “Let’s go,” Jose said, walking past Mencken. “We’ve got to get to the hill to help the others.”

  Aware he was standing with his mouth hanging open, Mencken said, “Oh. Yeah. The hill. We need to get you and those blue things to the hill.” He then ran after Jose.

  Back in the car, Jose picked up the cell phone and quickly dialed a number. “Yeah, Ernie. I need a cleanup on the lawn of City Hall. I know. I know Ernie, but I’m too covered in it. I couldn’t burn it myself. Yes, there were bystanders. Can you just take care of it? Thanks.” He hung up the phone and smiled at Mencken. “Can’t believe they only left three,” he said. “They must be saving everyone else for the assault.”

  Mencken pulled the car onto the street. “Who’s Ernie?” he asked.

  “Ernie’s our Relay. Now hurry,” Jose said, wiping the black sludge from his eyes. “It’s probably already started.”

  Chapter 25

  Mencken caught his first glimpse of the battle from the corner of Key Highway and Battery Avenue. Three small figures stood on Federal Hill facing a glowing pink circle at the crest of the hill. Pale, strapping warriors poured from the hole, two-by-two.

  Jose pounded the dashboard anxiously, yelling, “Get there. Come on. Get there.”

  The fight was happening on the north side of the hill. The grassy, three story slope was as steep as the nosebleed section of a professional footbal
l stadium. The hill was broken in the middle by a sidewalk. The bottom of the hill emptied onto Key Highway. The top of the hill was flat. Along the top, following the hill’s crest, was a circular, brick walking path with green, wooden benches every ten feet. Inside the brick walkway was a large grassy space and a playground with climbing equipment shaped like a pirate ship. The north-facing rim was decorated with a Civil War era cannon, a giant American flag, and two small memorials to Baltimore’s war heroes.

  At the top of the hill, Mencken slowed to take a better look at the fight. The pink circle he had seen from the road was swirling next to the cannon. It was six feet in diameter, just big enough for two of the massive monsters to step through. A steady stream of Mardocks marched through the portal. Agnew, Rothman, and Chris had taken their stand five feet downhill from the swirling circle. They fought on an incline, using their funnel formation to meet and contain the monsters the moment they stepped through the portal. Rothman imposing physique framed the bottom of the V, taking the brunt of the assault and receiving anything the other two deflected toward him. Agnew and Chris worked the left and right edge of the portal. Within seconds of stepping onto the grassy slope, the monsters met their end at the hands of the three heroes. Their broken and lifeless bodies were discarded down the hill. A trail of fifty black-blood stained corpses already littered the bottom half of the slope and were beginning to pile up at the mid-point sidewalk.

  Mencken was so entranced by the scene on the hill, he almost didn’t notice when Jose threw open the door and jumped from the passenger seat into the street. The small teen ran up the hill toward the action. Fifteen yards from the car, Jose turned back to yelled to Mencken, “Get out of here. Find somewhere safe.” His torso and face were illuminated in a faint blue from the glowing, laser like blades on his gloves. After delivering his message, Jose turned and sprinted to join his cohort.

  Mencken was in a daze. The scene before him was too much to walk away from. It was like nothing he’d ever seen, like nothing he’d ever imagined. He threw the car into park and stepped into the street. Vehicles streamed by him on the left, honking their horns, too busy with their own lives to stop and notice the scene in front of them, but Mencken couldn’t turn his eyes away.