The Hands of Ruin: Book One

by Peters, Dylan Lee

  “Nooo!” Gildwyn screamed and scrabbled forward toward the place where his friend had disappeared. He crawled down into the large divot in the cavern floor and pawed at the loose dirt underneath him. “Mayddox!”

  “Shut up, damn you!” Endemall yelled at Gildwyn and pulled the man up and out of the hole. “Shut up! You’ll bring more of them!”

  Through Gildwyn’s eyes, blurred with tears, he could see Endemall was right. Where they had entered the cave crawled three more leggy manders, quickly advancing. Gildwyn couldn’t move. He was dead inside. Suddenly he felt himself lifted into the air, and then he was being carried away from the pursuing creatures. Endemall had lifted him up onto his back, and he was now running for the passage that led upward. If it was blocked, if the upper level was still collapsed in this area, they would die; they would not escape the leggy manders. Gildwyn didn’t know whether it mattered anymore. He wasn’t sure whether he cared.

  As Endemall reached the passage back to the upper level, he could see it was not blocked, and he whooped into the air. The leggy manders were mere yards behind him now, and he knew they would follow him up the passage if he couldn’t stop them. Reaching into a pocket on his vest, he retrieved a small explosive and snapped it between his fingers. Then he dropped it behind him as he ran up the incline of the passage. The explosion rang in his ears, but Endemall thought it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. Finally, he reached the upper level and set Gildwyn down on the ground. Then he found a match, lit it, and looked back down the passage from where they had come. The explosion had caused a collapse, just as he had wanted. The leggy manders were trapped in the deep. Endemall and Gildwyn were safe.

  Endemall put his hands on his knees and breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath. He was filled with adrenaline and happier than he could remember being in a long time, but as his breathing slowed, he heard the sobbing growing louder in the darkness. Gildwyn Nye was bawling like a child, and Endemall’s relief was quickly replaced with empathy and deep sadness.

  “I’m sorry, Nye. I’m sorry.”

  Gildwyn moaned into his hands and cursed himself for his decision. He had chosen the deep. He had forced it on them, and in doing so he had lost Mayddox, his friend, forever.

  VIII

  Rainart ripped the outboard motor into action and spun the little boat around as quickly as he could. Zigmund lost his balance and fell in a heap beside his sister, who was still sobbing heavily. A patchy orange fog was now collecting on the surface of the ocean, the air was growing unnaturally humid, and a pungent and musty smell filled the air. Rainart stared toward the shore like a dog pointing on a hunt, his left hand guiding the boat, his right hand cocking the hammer back on his revolver.

  “Get ready with that gun, Zig!” Rainart called out as if drilling a football team. “And help pull your sister together. There’s another gun for her. We’re going to need her!”

  Zigmund steadied himself and raised his head back out of the boat. As he looked behind them, into their wake, his eyes shot wide with disbelief and terror. Rising from the water like a mirage was one of the red specters his uncle had promised them. He didn’t need confirmation of what the thing was. It couldn’t possibly have been anything else.

  The specter wore a red hooded cloak that was tattered at the bottom. It draped down past the creature’s torso, if the specter had a torso at all. As it rose from the depths, Zigmund could see it had no legs. Instead, its long red arms hung well below its tattered cloak, and the fingers on its grotesque red hands traced along the water’s surface like the tines of a rake. The creature floated forward, and Zigmund froze in abject fear as he gazed at the specter’s face, half obscured by the red hood. A bottom row of yellow teeth jutted forward like misshapen piano keys, each one at least ten inches long, and just above those teeth, two eyes burned red like rubies.

  Zigmund wanted to scream, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the specter. The boat was moving fast, for an old boat, but the red figure darted forward and was now coming closer. Seeing the monster glide through the orange fog was like watching a rose bloom in a time-lapse video. It was mesmerizing in a way that gave something real an impossible quality. The creature reached its long arm forward, the tips of its fingers threatening to touch Zigmund like a ray of light, and then a shot rang into the air. The specter fell below the surface of the water, but there was no splash. The surface of the ocean hadn’t been disturbed at all.

  “Pull your head out of your ass!” Rainart screamed.

  The gunshot had awakened Zigmund, and even Zerah raised her puffy red face from between her knees. Zigmund scrabbled along the bottom of the boat and found the third gun. He handed it to his sister, pulled back the hammer on his revolver, and scanned the foggy water. He had never shot a gun in his life, and he held the thing in the air as if it were a toy.

  Zerah took the other gun but only out of fear, continuing to sit limply on the floor of the boat. What had happened, what she had done, had caused her world to fragment around her. She couldn’t cope with it. She couldn’t begin to grasp this reality. Her breathing was ragged, and she blinked her eyes closed for long stretches, silently willing herself to wake up from what she hoped was a terrible dream.

  Just then, five long red fingers touched Zerah’s face. She screamed, and one of the fingers popped inside of her open mouth. Emerging from the fog behind her was another red specter. It pulled her head upward, closer to its mouth, and lowered its too-long bottom teeth to reveal a row of smaller upper teeth, just as warped and repulsive. The creature gave a low and hungry groan and continued to pull the girl into its gaping maw.

  Zigmund spun and pulled the trigger on his gun, missing the specter badly. But Rainart was only a second behind, and his shot was true. The red monster fell away from Zerah, its hand pawing at her shoulder as it did.

  “This was a bad idea,” Rainart grumbled.

  Zigmund looked at the man as if he had never been more befuddled by anything. A bad idea? he thought. A bad idea? How could any rational person have any doubt about that?

  If this trip had done anything for Zigmund, it was to confirm his intentions to take his sister and leave his uncle as soon as possible. If they survived this madness, they had to run away. It didn’t matter whether they were forced to scrap for food and shelter in a poor county. Nothing could be worse than this.

  As Rainart and Zigmund stared at each other incredulously, Zerah screamed again. Rainart looked out ahead of the boat and saw two more specters materialize out of the orange fog, but there was no time to react to their presence. The boat plowed into the creatures as if it had hit a rock, and all three of the passengers were thrown into the water. Like panicked rabbits they thrashed, swimming in the direction they thought was the shore. Rainart wiped the hair from his face, sputtered, and yelled to his niece and nephew to follow him. The teens did their best to find him.

  Thirty seconds passed, and it seemed the boat had dispatched the specters on impact. They were now nowhere to be seen. But the fog was still thick, and the water was warm like bathwater. The twins gasped for the stinking air, pumped their legs, and raced through the water as fast as they could. Soon another call came from Rainart, and the twins realized he had found land. When they saw him again, he was standing on a slick black rock, waving his arms above his head.

  They swam faster, trying to reach Rainart, and finally Zigmund reached the rock where his uncle stood. But before he could pull himself up, he let out a yell. A red specter was creeping up behind Rainart, and the man had no idea. Rainart turned too late, a slow reaction to Zigmund’s cry, only to feel the tight grip of a specter’s hand around his neck. Rainart grunted and fell to one knee, his weak leg giving out under the stress.

  Zerah and Zigmund stared at their uncle as they treaded water. There was nothing they could do. The guns were sinking down in the depths, and the twins were frozen in fear. The red monster lowered its sickening face to Rainart’s side and bit him hard just bel
ow his rib cage. He screamed as if he had been set on fire, the specter’s rotten teeth tearing into his soft flesh. Rainart thrashed weakly against the creature, but it was no use. The long red hands gripped him with great strength as his hot blood splashed down onto the black rock. Rainart was going to die.

  The orange fog was so thick it seemed to Zerah as if she were floating among the clouds. One moment the rock was there; the next it wasn’t. Everything seemed fluid and immaterial. One moment sound was there, and then it wasn’t. She was losing her grip on her senses. The world was flooded with light. Zerah blinked, and then it was replaced by darkness. She opened her eyes again, like a curtain rising slowly up from a dusty floor, and light flooded the world again. It was so bright she thought maybe they were all being lifted to heaven. Maybe in her shock, the specters had taken them all. Maybe in her confusion, she had drifted off into death.

  However, the bright light was not all in Zerah’s mind. It intensified now, and the fog seemed as if it would burst from saturation. Zerah squinted her eyes and saw the light focus itself into a bolt, flying forward from only a short distance away. It was white and tinged with blue. Then a hand was touching her, a voice was yelling at her, and afterward the world burst like a soggy dream. The orange fog was gone, the specters were gone, and Zerah’s senses came rushing back as she saw a woman with a cannon on her arm standing on the black rocks above.

  Adrenaline flushed Zerah’s veins, and now the sound of the world was roaring. Echo bent down toward the girl and extended a hand, while Zigmund helped his sister up the rock. The red specter was gone. Echo had destroyed it. But as they gathered around Rainart, unconscious on the rock, the amount of blood pooled underneath him filled them all with dread.

  Zerah bent down and patted the man’s black pants pockets. He still has it, she realized. He still has the bag. The girl reached into her uncle’s pocket and brought out the clear plastic bag of zulis. As quickly as she could, she poured some of it into her open palm. Then she pressed her hands to Rainart’s wound and closed her eyes.

  Zigmund and Echo watched on, standing on either side of Rainart’s pale body. Neither could look away, and neither could say a word. A long moment passed, and then a choking cough came from Rainart, followed by a strained and panicked gasp for air. Zerah had again performed her miracle, and Rainart Eil Dragaredd had returned from the edge of death.

  The girl stood slowly, eyes wide, breathing heavily. She looked back and forth between Echo and Zigmund, and still no one said a word. The first to speak was Rainart, but his voice was low and strained, like an elderly man in his last days of life.

  “If we don’t get into the garage,” he said, “that will have all been a terrible waste of time.”

  As though feeling a sudden chill up the back, Zigmund, Zerah, and Echo realized there would be more specters now zulis had been used again. The twins looked at Echo with panic in their eyes. She was the only one with a weapon, and Rainart hadn’t jumped up in perfect condition the way Zigmund had. There was still something wrong with him, and they realized quickly he would have to be helped along if he was going to make it to the garage.

  Echo looked up the cliff and then to the stairs. “I’ll hold off the specters, but the two of you are going to have to carry Rainart. Can you do that?”

  Rainart was a large man, not a fat man, but large nonetheless. Echo figured he must weigh 230 pounds, at least. She looked then at the stocky teenage boy and his pudgy sister, neither of which would be called physical specimens by anyone, and thought frantically whether there was any other way to get Rainart to the garage.

  “We can carry him,” Zerah said, speaking for her brother as well as herself. “We have to.”

  She bent down and wedged herself under one of her uncle’s shoulders and then looked pleadingly toward her brother. He stood with his arms at his sides, shaking his head. His face spoke the words he wouldn’t. He didn’t think they could carry the man, and a part of him didn’t want to save Rainart at all.

  “Zigmund, come on,” Zerah pleaded.

  The teen huffed and bent down to help his sister. Then together they raised Rainart up. He wasn’t able to use his right leg at all, and even his left was weak, but the twins pulled their uncle past Echo and headed for the stairs with purpose. Echo had to admit the boy was stronger than she had given him credit for. A glimmer of hope found its way into her mind, but hope would have to wait, as the orange fog was gathering again.

  Tendrils of fog rolled in from all around as another red specter rose out of the depths of the water. Echo dispatched it quickly with a cannon blast, but she knew that wouldn’t be the last of the specters. She had little experience with zulis being used on Earth but knew back-to-back usages would bring a greater amount of trouble. Now Echo turned from the water and followed behind the twins as they began the arduous task of moving their uncle up the steps.

  A specter silently descended from over the cliff’s edge, and Echo shot two successive bolts of energy that both missed their target. She swore under her breath and took aim again. The twins and Rainart were consumed by their own task and never realized how close the specter was to them. It reached its red arm toward Zigmund, but before it made contact, Echo connected with a blast, and the monster burst apart, showering the group in hot ether.

  “Keep going!” Echo commanded them. “Don’t give up!”

  The teens were grunting loudly as their muscles strained. They were halfway up the stairs now, and Echo could see everyone was slick with sweat. She turned to look back down the stairs and saw ten specters rising through the air, their twisted mouths yearning for flesh. She shuddered at the sight. Echo had never had to fight so many specters at once, and never alone. She gathered herself, gritted her teeth, and sent blast after blast down the side of the cliff. The recoil from the cannon caused her arm to ache, but she pressed on. Three of the ten specters met her attack and lost. Now seven remained as the climb up the stairs continued.

  “How much farther?” Zerah called out, unable to look up while under her uncle’s shoulder.

  “We’re almost there!” Echo yelled. “Do not give in!”

  It was a lie. They were only three-quarters of the way up the cliff, and then there was still the dash to the garage, but Echo needed the teens motivated as she continued to fight the specters. Four down, then five, and then six. There were now four specters left to go.

  “Above!” Rainart called out with a rasping voice.

  Echo just barely heard the man but spun around in time to see another specter reaching its grotesque hand out to grab Zigmund. Without pause, she blasted the monster right between its eyes, and it was gone. Then she refocused on the four below who were very close to her now, closer than she had thought they would be. Unprepared, Echo missed a step walking up the stairs backward and fell, knocking everyone down onto the steps. She shot two more specters as she sat, and kicked a third, sending it careening into the cliff. It tried to come back at her, but she aimed a quick shot and connected with the specter’s open mouth. Now there was only one left.

  The group got back to their feet, and they were now only steps away from the top of the cliff, but it seemed as if the twins were having a much more difficult time, their pace far slower than it had been at the outset. Echo worried this might have been too difficult a task for the teens, but knew she couldn’t give up on them or it would mean their death.

  “You’re almost there,” Echo encouraged. “It’ll be much easier once we reach the top, I promise.”

  Just as the words left her mouth, Echo’s leg was pulled out from underneath her, and she fell hard on the stairs. The last specter had grabbed her. She quickly rolled off of her stomach and onto her back to see the gaping, reeking hole that was the specter’s mouth, groaning wide above. She shoved her cannon into the monster’s throat and discharged her weapon. A quick shriek, and the specter burst. Then she scrabbled back to her feet and looked up the stairs to see the twins had finally dragged Rainart to the top of the cliff
.

  Echo ran up the last few steps and panicked when she saw the twins had stopped moving forward. They still held Rainart up, one twin under each shoulder, but they had given in and were trying to catch their breath.

  “Are they all gone?” Zerah asked. The words came from her quickly, in between large inhalations, making it sound as if she were crying.

  “I don’t know,” Echo said. She felt sympathy for the girl, but the possibility of more specters outweighed any potential for relaxation. “We have to get to the garage. It’s the only way to make sure we’ll be safe. We can’t stop now.”

  Zigmund grimaced under the weight of the task but said nothing. He looked at Zerah, and the girl knew every detail of what his expression was trying to convey. Why? Zerah knew if the situation had been turned around, if it had been Zigmund using the zulis and Zerah the one that had been shot, he would have let Rainart die. Everything about Zigmund’s face asked her that question now. Why didn’t you let him die? Zerah didn’t think less of her brother for feeling that way, and in a lot of ways, she completely understood the sentiment, but it was not in her nature. She had been given the power to help; how could she not do so?

  “Is there a door we don’t know about?” Zerah asked Echo, practically begging the woman. The last thing she wanted was to have to drag Rainart up another flight of stairs just to help him back down all the way to the garage’s entrance. Honestly, the girl didn’t think she and her brother had the strength for all that.

  “We don’t have to take the long way,” Echo said, and her words were like a gift to the teens. “Pull him to the outside of the garage, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

  “Where’s the outside of the garage?” Zigmund asked.

  “It’s at the front of the house,” Echo said. “The place that looks like it should be a normal garage, but with no door.”