Call to War: Hunter Wars Book Six (The Hunter Wars 6)

by SD Tanner

  Pax glanced up at the sky, and then looked back him dumbfounded. “Have you lost your fuckin’ mind?”

  “Honey, show this dumbass what world he’s livin’ in.”

  Silent for a moment, Pax then spoke. “Oh yeah, I see your point, but I don’t think shootin’ at ‘em is gonna help.”

  He felt his fury ebb away, only to be replaced by a sense of hopelessness. His shoulders sagged, and he held his gun down by his side. “No it don’t help, Pax, but show me another way and I’ll do that instead.”

  With an understanding nod, Pax sighed and said, “I don’t got another way either, bro’.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE: Eternal brothers of War (Gears)

  He, Pax, TL, Ip, BD, Mackenzie and baby Ip arrived at the Ranch later that evening. During the flight, Mackenzie continued to share with them what the demon in his mind could see, and everywhere they flew, the demons flew with them. Below the bird the ghosts of the dead walked. He’d no idea there were so many souls in hell, but he supposed if all of them returned to earth at the same time, then every inch of the earth would be full. The ghosts didn’t appear to have a direction or a plan, but were drifting aimlessly as they flew overhead. Now he accepted there was a Devil and they were Horsemen sent to rule, he began to wonder where the third wheel was. If there was Devil, then there had to be a God, but where was he now? On reflection, he thought maybe the absence of God was the deal breaker. Was it possible the Horsemen couldn’t win this fight against Ruler unless God stepped up to the plate? Where are you, he wondered?

  Once they landed at the Ranch and were inside the house, he handed baby Ip to Mom. “She belongs with the other babies. Take care of ‘em.” Flicking his thumb at Pax and TL, he added, “We’re gonna have to go and we might not make it back to the bases.”

  Looking alarmed, Mom took the baby from him. “Where are you going?”

  “We gotta go deal with Ruler.”

  Pop was standing next to Mom and he said, “Well I guess I’ll saddle up with ya, son.”

  “No Pop,” TL replied firmly. “Your job has always been to take care of us and it still is.”

  Giving TL a skeptical look, Pop asked, “So, you believe these babies are you, ‘cos that’s what your Mom believes too.”

  “It’s true,” Mom added earnestly. “Once Mac pointed it out, I can see you in them.”

  Nodding at Mom, he replied, “They are us. I don’t get how this works, but it is what it is and you need take care of ‘em while we go deal with the Devil.”

  Hugging baby Ip closely to her chest, Mom asked worriedly, “But if you beat him, then you’ll come back won’t you?”

  Ip kissed the baby in Mom’s arms. “We do not leave, so we cannot return. Once we are done, it is their turn.”

  While Mom and Pop continued to question them, he decided he’d heard enough and walked out of the house and into the night. The stars were more brilliant than usual, and they shed an odd grey light across the barren land. Strolling over to the stables where the horses slept, he opened the door and heard them quietly snorting in the dark. Not wanting to disturb them, he closed the door again and began walking across the scrubby paddock. He didn’t know where he was going, and he supposed he should be worried about hunters, but tonight he didn’t care. The horses reminded him of their carefree days as teenagers, and he wished he could return to those simpler times. What if they’d never taken on this mission? In retrospect, it’d been a flippant and ill-considered decision and Pax hadn’t even agreed. What if they’d listened to him and decided to live out the apocalypse hiding in the hills?

  “Then that would have been our ruling,” A deep and somber voice said. “We would have judged man not worthy of another chance and left him to the Devil.”

  Turning to find the owner of the voice, he saw a large, muscular man wearing a tunic made of hessian cloth. With coarse features much like his own, the man looked world weary, worn, and his face was deeply lined. He glanced at the man’s arms and saw deep scars that hinted at a hard won life, and more surprising than the old wounds, were the blue and black markings he’d come to know so well. The delicate lace of lines ran down the man’s biceps, along his forearms, and ended at his hairy knuckles. He saw the tattoos protruded from the neckline of his hessian tunic, up the left side of his face and finished at his cheekbone.

  Feeling strangely unconcerned, he watched the man expectantly. “Do I know ya?”

  Slowly the man contemplated him and finally, in a low gravelly voice, he said, “It’s time for us to rule. To do otherwise is to fail.”

  The man’s words resonated deeply with him. Failure was the only thing he truly feared. “Am I failin’?”

  Fixing him with a hard stare, the man said sternly, “It’s our purpose to rule and rule we must.”

  With a spark of irritation, he harrumphed. “You must be a friend of Ip’s, ‘cos you make about as much sense as she does.”

  The man leaned forward until his face was so close to his, he could smell the odor of old sweat and animals on his clothing. Without any anger or aggression, he said, “You’re a stubborn fool.”

  Dreaming, he thought, I must be dreaming.

  “Not dreaming,” the man replied steadily. “I am you and you are me.”

  Sounding as tired as he felt, he said almost sadly, “I don’t understand.”

  The man reached out his thickly muscled arm, and gripping his shoulder firmly, he said, “This isn’t a dream. I’m here.” Slowly and with emphasis, he repeated, “I am you and you are me.”

  Riddles, he thought with frustration, this man and Ip talk in riddles. Why can’t they just say what they mean? Looking back at the man, he shook his head. “What am I missin’?”

  “We are a force, not a life.”

  Desperately wishing he could unravel the truth of the man’s words, he replied honestly, “I dunno what you mean.”

  Tilting his head, the man gave him a long sympathetic stare. “I am you and you are me. We are a force and not a life, but we are constrained by what we believe. Call yourself and the Devil’s day is done. Our right to rule will be enforced.”

  “If you’re me, then help me understand.”

  Still walking, they’d reached the edge of a small hill of craggy rocks where he sat down and the man sat opposite him. Nodding at him, the man asked, “What do we want to know?”

  He wasn’t sure who he was talking to, but any answer was better than none. “Are the babies really us?”

  “We cannot judge from above. How can we judge what we don’t understand? We must be man to understand the choices man makes, so we are born as men. It’s only as men that we can judge man and make our ruling.”

  There was a reason they were born and lived not knowing who they were. He supposed it made sense. How could they know whether the choices man made were reasonable and right if they weren’t men? It was an answer his rational mind could accept and nodding, he felt a cog in his mind slip into its rightful place.

  “Why do we have to leave?”

  “Once we rule, we are the Horsemen on earth enforcing our right.” Leaning forward, he patted his arm. “But once done, we’ve served our purpose and it’s time for us to leave and be men again.”

  He felt another cog in his mind slide into position. The babies were the Horsemen born again to live as men amongst men. Only man could judge man, but only as Horsemen could they enforce their judgement. Even though he understood the logic, he hesitated. “But I still feel like a man and not an immortal being.”

  Chuckling deeply, the man replied, “Whether we are God, the Devil, Horsemen or man, we’re all cut from the same cloth, and we think and feel in the same way, but we serve a different purpose in the game. It’s only our awareness and understanding of the universe that changes.”

  Knowing he was a Horseman didn’t mean he would feel any different from how he’d felt as a man. Being a Horsemen only meant he had a different role and a greater awareness of how the universe worked.

  �
��But we can’t leave until Ruler is defeated.”

  The man shook his firmly. “The Devil is never defeated. We all exist in a balance of power. There’s no winning or losing in this game.”

  As far as he could tell, Ruler was holding all the cards. “And what’s the balance of power now? It looks to me like Ruler is winning.”

  The man chuckled deeply and gazed up the night sky. “Perpetual energy demands perpetual conflict. No one wins, no one loses, but the desire to fight is never lost.” Looking back at him, the man said with a slight smile, “Don’t be angry with the dog for barking like a dog. It’s the Devil’s role to behave as the Devil does. Without evil, there can be no good, and without us, there can be no arbitration.”

  Having spent decades scorning TL’s belief that negotiation was the better part of valor, he asked in surprise, “We’re arbitrators?”

  “We judge together and we enforce together. Through our decisions and our actions, we hold the balance of power between the good and the bad.” Shrugging, the man added, “It doesn’t matter to us which side mankind chooses to follow. If they choose the Devil, we wait until they choose God. If they choose God, we wait until they choose the Devil. All we do is ensure whichever side they choose is the side they get.”

  Clearly his confusion was written on his face and the man sighed. “We don’t control man or make his choices for him. It’s our role to understand man and know the choices he’s made. It doesn’t matter to us which side he chooses, good or evil, but we’ll make sure he gets what he deserves.”

  “But they’re divided. Some men have chosen to join Ruler and some haven’t. How do we know which men should win?”

  “We believe man deserves another chance, so we’ll help them fight.” With a glint in his eye, the man said sternly, “But if they don’t fight for what they want, or they don’t truly want it, then the Devil will own man.” With a shrug, he added, “Well, at least for a little while.”

  It meant their ruling was a reflection of man and not something they could simply enforce. Man had to back up their ruling with his own conviction. Thinking back, he supposed he and his brothers worked hard to be the best men they could be. It hadn’t meant they were always right or did the right thing, but any mistakes they made were human ones. Through their actions they tried to inspire hope and bring out the best in those around them, but if mankind didn’t find the best in himself then he would lose the battle against Ruler. It struck him as a fair system, and now it was a question of whether man was truly willing to stand up against the Devil and his army. In simple terms, he could take a horse to water, but he couldn’t make it drink.

  Now understanding this was war of man against man, he concluded, “Then this isn’t my battle.”

  Leaning forward, the man patted his arm again. “Now, we’re starting to understand. We’ve decided man is worthy of another chance, and we’ll do everything we can to make sure man get what he deserves, but if man doesn’t really want it…’ Allowing his words to taper, the man shrugged and said, “Then they’ll get what they deserve.”

  Although it did seemed like a fair system, he still couldn’t see how he or man could win against Ruler. The situation was too stacked in the Devil’s favor and he’d seen no sign of God to help tip the scale.

  “I don’t see how man can win. Mac’s seen the future and we’ve got no weapons. Ruler has super hunters, millions of hunters and now demons and ghosts who are makin’ a helluva mess.”

  “We’ll do as we’ve always done once we’re aware.”

  The idea that he was a Horseman was new, but he still didn’t feel any different for the awareness. With a questioning look, he asked, “Am I aware now?”

  The man chuckled warmly. “Look at your arms. You have the marks.”

  Puzzled, he pulled the sleeve of his shirt over his forearm, and even in the gloomy light, he saw the vivid blue and black pattern against his skin. That wasn’t there earlier, he thought. When did this happen?

  Looking at the man in surprise, he asked, “Who am I?”

  “We are War,” the man replied triumphantly. Turning to face the Ranch a short distance away, he added with a curt nod, “Look at our battles.”

  His view of the Ranch dissolved and suddenly a fierce battle was taking place in front of him. Dressed in clothing he didn’t recognize, men with swords and shields fought furiously. Their swords were large, heavy and roughly hewn, but clearly effective. Dressed in leather and ragged cloth, the men used their shields like bludgeons, and stabbed and swept their swords swiftly. With the force of their fury, limbs were severed and the ground was slick with blood and mud. It was impossible for him to tell one side from the other, and he wondered how these warriors knew who they should kill. Just watching the frenzied combat sent adrenalin coursing through his body, and had he been able, he might have joined them.

  With a flick of his hand, the man said, “Come.”

  He walked into the battle, passing through the warriors as they fought one another. In front of him, one man hacked another through the neck, and as he fell to the ground, blood burst from the wound forming an arc that splattered onto the blood soaked land. Another short stocky man plunged a knife into his gut, but it passed through him and into the man behind. That man fell to the ground while his attacker stepped forward into him looking for his next target. All around him men were dying and being injured in ways he knew they would never recover from. After walking through the dead, the dying and the victorious, they stopped in front of a large man who was hacking his sword down onto the neck of another man. With every muscle straining from the force of the blow, he wrenched his sword from the man’s neck with a swift jerk. The large man’s face was roughly carved, his head was shaved so close he was almost bald, and his face, hands and arms bore the scars of many fights. Once this warrior had brought the man down, he paused, and with his chest heaving with the effort, he turned to face them. The man had the same tattoo markings on his neck that finished at his left cheekbone.

  Spitting onto the ground between them, he asked abruptly, “What do you want? I’m busy.”

  “We need to know who we are,” his guide replied calmly.

  Turning to face him, the warrior waved his bloody and still dripping sword. “We are a force, not a life. What else do you need to know?”

  “How to use that knowledge,” he replied steadily. Looking around the battle that was still raging, he asked, “Can we lose?”

  The warrior threw his head back, and with a roar of laughter, he boomed, “No! How can we lose what we do not stand to gain? It is our right to rule and rule we do. We cannot lose for we cannot win. We are the balance of power.”

  “If we can’t lose, then why am I losin’?”

  The warrior shrugged. “We are not losing. No one can lose. One side rules until the other challenges them again. It is the perpetual war that fuels our universe. Without it all life would end for lack of energy.”

  The man who was guiding him said, “It’s not a matter of win or lose, brother. It’s only a question of how many men are left by the time we call the game to an end.”

  “How do I call it to an end?”

  The warrior and the guide looked at one another, and grinning, they turned to face him and said in unison, “Call to War.”

  The last cog in his mind slip into position, and turning away from the men he knew to be himself, he finally understood. While watching the death and devastation still happening around him, his mind settled into a comfortable confidence he could end the war regardless of which side won. He didn’t know what his powers were, but he knew they would be there when he called for them. With this new sense of self, he chuckled. “Now I understand.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Through seeds grow trees (Gears)

  Having left baby Ip with Mom and Pop, they boarded the bird and were heading to Ohio where TL told them they would find Lucie and Gray. With Ip having no sense of geography, TL had worked with her and Lucie to agree a place they could meet. B
eing cut off from communication with the bases, he wondered how much havoc the demons and ghosts were causing, but there was no point worrying about something he could do nothing about other than to bring the war to a conclusion.

  “I don’t get it, Gears,” Pax complained. “You say we can’t lose, but if man doesn’t wanna win bad enough, then Ruler gets control. If that happens, doesn’t that mean we lost?”

  He chuckled. “It never happens that way. Whatever we decide happens ‘cos we make sure it does…or not, depending on what we rule.”

  “I get what you’re saying, but what about the hunters?” TL asked pragmatically. “Ruler has control of the hunters and that makes him pretty much impossible to defeat. We might have ruled man gets another chance, but I don’t see how we can enforce that.”

  He knew the hunters were the wild card and they changed everything. It meant it was possible man could lose no matter how hard he fought Ruler, or how well they fought for their right to rule. It was obvious to him now Ruler was taking advantage of a twist of fate, and he understood why he believed he had a chance to win this war and take control. The one thing he still didn’t understand was where the other side was. There were supposed to be two sides and one arbitrator, but one side was conspicuously absent. Shaking his head, he thought, this is a balance of power, but there’s a side that has yet to show its hand.

  Regardless of how many sides show up, it didn’t change the need to end the fight. “It is what it is, TL. We might not win this round, but we’ll win in the end. Right now, man’s cornered, and it’s better he dies fighting than dies on his knees.”

  Pax nodded and said sagely. ‘That’s always been true.”

  After their night at the Ranch, they decided Mackenzie and BD should head back to the bases and tell them to get ready for a final and conclusive battle. They needed to brief Nelson and Captain Ted, and in turn they’d need to speak with Wolfie and Mike. For no reason he understood, he wanted the battle to take place at the Ranch. Somehow it seemed right their argument with Ruler would be concluded at the place they’d fought for, lost and rebuilt so many times. Knowing the Ranch was about to become the most dangerous place on earth, he’d ordered Mackenzie to take the babies, Mom and Pop and any other survivors back to the base. With the hauntings at the bases he wasn’t sure they’d be any safer there, but he knew the Ranch wouldn’t be safe at all. In speaking with himself, he hadn’t learned anything concrete, but he felt he could now make decisions with confidence. Regardless of what powers he did or didn’t have, he knew who he was and to trust his instincts. On reflection, he didn’t think there was anything he would have done differently had he known his role from the start. He’d always been a Horseman and now he knew he always would be. We might be immortal, he thought, but most of the time we live as men and we don’t know who and what we are. What’s being immortal worth if most of the time you don’t know you are?