Refuge: The Arrival: Book 2
Page 2
“A fine job you did today, Leutnant,” said the middle aged man, sticking out a hand. “I thought those damned people were going to slaughter us all where we stood.”
“We were glad to do it,” said Sturgil, accepting a bottle of schnapps passed over by an attractive woman. “I think tomorrow the road will be clear, unless they wish a repeat.”
“Damned right,” said the man, smiling. “Those primitives are probably still running. The ones that got away.”
When we’re out of fuel and ammo we’ll be the primitives, thought Sturgil. The people they had fought today had powers that the Earth people didn’t possess. And they would still possess them when the modern weapons of the Earth humans were curiosities. He heard a mewing sound and saw the young lady sitting next to him drop some deer meat into a cardboard box by her feet. He leaned over and caught sight of a large furry black and white cat with four little ones rooting around by her belly.
“I feel they’ll come in handy, now,” said the woman. “It would seem that we will soon be back to a primitive existence, and cats are useful animals.”
“And you happened to have them in your car?” asked the German officer with a laugh.
“My boyfriend thought we should get to Switzerland,” said the woman, looking at Sturgil with cat green eyes. “He is a geologist, and said that the mountains would be the best place to survive a nuclear war. But we left too late and got caught in a blast. I’m still not sure what they were targeting. Soegel is such a small place, with nothing important.”
“Soegel,” said Sturgil with a catch in his throat. “My family is from Boerger. Or were, I guess. Do you know what happened there?”
“Only what I saw,” said the woman, picking up a kitten and cradling it in one hand, petting it gently with the other. “There was a flash of light, burning into my eyes, while I was driving down the street. The momma cat, Gertude, started meowing over and over and I looked down in the box. I knew I was dead, but I had to see what the damned cat wanted. The car started bumping over something rough and I looked back up. My boyfriend was fighting the wheel. And Soegel was gone. Just gone, and I was in this clearing in the woods. And I’m sure Boerger must have gone with it.”
“Then Boerger must be gone too,” said the officer in a low voice. “That can’t be more than fifteen kilometers from Soegel.”
The woman was crying now, tears flowing down her eyes. Sturgil blinked back his own tears, wondering if his family had stayed in the inferno that was now Boerger, which had to be Boerger after a nuclear weapon had detonated within blast range of it. Or had they made it here? Were they safe, protected by the military? Or if they had come over were they out in the open, unprotected and prey for the damned Elves that had been attacking them for days now?
“I was on the outskirts of Mainz,” said the middle aged man. “I had driven down from Essen to see family in Darmstadt. I saw the mushroom cloud over Frankfurt, to the east. Then Mainz exploded. I saw the dome of the cathedral go up in flames, then blow out. I lowered my head, knowing that I was dead. And ended up in the woods, my car side swiping a tree and rolling over.”
“And what the hell is this place?” said another of the people around the fire, talking loudly, then taking a swig of whiskey. “This has to be damned nightmare. I mean, what the hell were those creatures coming at us today? I wanted to blink my eyes and go back to sleep. Maybe the real world would come back if I did.”
“But you didn’t,” said the middle aged man, looking at the other straight in the eyes.
“I was too afraid,” said the younger man, shaking his head. “If I put my head in the sand and this turned out to be real, I was afraid the next thing I would feel was a sword in my guts.”
“It’s real,” said Sturgil, shaking his head, then looking at the people gathered around the fire. “I wish it wasn’t, but I’m also glad it is, in a way.”
“Why is that, my young soldier?” said the middle aged man, looking sideways at the officer.
“Because we would most likely be dead,” said Sturgil, looking down at his feet, “if we were still in Germany. Either dead outright, or dying of radiation poisoning. I’m ashamed to say that. It would be better to be by the side of my young wife and our baby girl. I was not by their side when the war started, and I doubt I would have made it to their side before I was dead.”
“A point,” said the middle aged man, nodding. “I would have preferred to be with my wife and granddaughter when the hammer came down. They were already at Darmstadt, when the balloon went up. And I wouldn’t have made it down there, caught in the destruction of Mainz. Better that I am here, with the survivors, than lying dead in a burned out vehicle on the autobahn. At least here I can be of help to the survivors.”
“Well, not me,” screamed the young man who had been swigging whiskey, hoarding the bottle. “I would rather be dead than to be going through this nightmare. Anything would be better than this. This is hell, and we are the damned.”
“I am sure that you will be able to find your death here if that is what you so desire,” said the middle aged man. “Me, I plan to be a good German, a struggle through whatever it is I must do to help my nation survive. Just as my grandparents did in the last war, against the Russians, British and Americans.”
“What fucking nation, old man?” yelled the young one, his words slurring from the whiskey. “That nation lies dead on another world. All the nations are dead, as far as we know.”
“My nation is on the march,” said the middle aged man, a grin on his face. “They are on this road. They are gathering ahead. And we will survive as a nation, even on another world.”
“I like your style,” said Sturgil to the man, putting out his hand. “I was feeling sort of hopeless myself, but the way you make it out we’re on a march for the Volke. What is your name?”
“I am Ernst Greuber,” said the middle age man. “Until four days ago I was a chief engineer with the Krupp Steel Works in Essen.”
Sturgil stared at the man for a moment as he felt the sturdy grip of the working man, his mind working.
“You are a man we need to look after,” said the Leutnant, smiling. “I am sure that your skills will come in handy in the future.”
“I am sure they will too,” said the man. “I am sure that their methods of making high quality steel and alloys must be centuries behind ours. Though I think even ours may have to move a century back in the doing.”
The man looked for a second at the others gathered around the fire, then back at the officer.
“But I ask no special treatment,” he said, shaking his head. “All of the Volke must be protected to the best ability of the army. And we must support that army to the best of our ability, if we are to survive. And I think all of us will be of value in the future. Myself. Other craftsmen. That young lady and the cats she protects. Physicians and vets. Even the young man over there passing out from drinking too much.”
“When are we going to reach this stronghold the Americans are building?” asked the young woman.
Franz looked over at her, thinking of how much she looked like his younger sister, Edvig.
“And you are, Fraulein?” he asked, holding out a hand. She shifted the kitten to her left hand and held out her right.
“Beate Terbourg,” she answered, looking him in the eye and smiling. “I was a student at the University in Frankfurt once. But I had gone back to Soegel.”
“Studying?”
“Nursing,” she said with a shy smile. “I know. I don’t look like the type.”
“You look just like the type of woman I would want at my bedside. And I am sure you will be valuable as well to our efforts,” said Ernst, nodding. “We will need to see to the sick and wounded, especially when all of our wonder drugs run out. And how far along were you.”
“I made it through first year,” she answered, “after completing my two years of prelims. And I still want to know, Leutnant. How long till we reach the American stronghold?”
“And we’ll be safe when we get there?” she asked, looking back down at the kitten in her hand, the little creature looking up at her with eyes that had only opened that day.
“Safer than you are out here,” agreed the officer, reaching over to run a finger down the fur of the kitten. “But we’ll only truly be safe when we make ourselves strong. Which will take work.”
“I thought we were already strong,” slurred the drunken young man from across the fire. “Tanks against horses.”
“Only as long as they last,” whispered Sturgil looking up at the night sky sparkling over the road.
“And then what will we do?” asked the young woman in a hushed voice, putting the kitten back in the box and picking up another one.
“Then we learn how to fight with what we have at hand,” answered the Leutnant, looking out into the dark. He looked back at the attractive young woman. “You said you were with a boyfriend. What happened to him?”
“I assume he is already at the stronghold,” she answered, looking up at the two moons that were in the sky at the moment.
“Did he have a special skill?”
“He was a geologist,” answered Beate with a nod. “An officer told him that he was needed for the effort, so he was offered transportation, and I was left behind.”
“Then we will have to see that you get back to him,” said Sturgil with a smile. “You and your precious kittens, who will guard our coming crops.”
“So you think we will make it?” asked the woman, her hands petting the new kitten.
“I assure you we will,” said Sturgil, looking over at the young man who was passed out on his portion of a log. “We have never had to deal with someplace like this. But, then again, this place has never had to deal with German soldiers.”
* * *
“Do you really believe the prophecy is fulfilled, my Lord?” asked an Underofficer, riding up beside the High Commander.
The senior Ellala looked over from his mount to the younger man, thinking about his answer for a moment. He felt tired in the saddle, and they had been looking for a good breaking point for the column of cavalry for the last half hour. They had been two days in the saddle already.
“Seems to have been a lot of them coming across,” answered the high commander of the elite border patrol cavalry, the Salantra’a. “I know we’ve had some that crossed the plane of existence through the centuries. But now we have tens of thousands, if not millions worldwide for all we know. The reports we have from the northern grasslands were enough to stir the King. And now we hear there are thousands coming into the lands of the Ellala’lysana. I couldn’t imagine a more Gods deserted land to find myself in.”
“Unless you worship the Gods of Death, my Lord,” answered the Underofficer.
Fenris Hallanta inclined his head in the way of his people, agreeing with the man. He looked for a moment as the largest of the moons, Lu’anaris, peeked over the hills, shining its great light down on the planet. It was a living planet in its own right, with seas and continents, with the white swirl of clouds visible from their vantage on the surface of the superior planet. Fenris had always wondered what it must be like on that world.
And tomorrow the moon would be full, and the night would be alive with lycanthropes of various kinds. Some evil, some good, and some with no leanings either way on the scale of morality. They were much more powerful than they were when Cirus or Dahras were full. Still vulnerable to some weapons. Unlike the way they would be when all three of the moons were full in the night sky.
Thank the Gods of Life we won’t see that again for several years, thought the Ellala, of the conjunction of the full moons in the sky. Bad enough that we have to be out in the wilderness when the largest moon is full. I’d rather be in garrison behind sturdy walls.
“In answer to your question, the answer is yes. I believe this is the fulfillment of the prophecy, and we might actually sight some of these humans on the morrow.”
“And how feels the King?” asked the officer in a hushed voice, glancing back at the long column of border cavalry that rode behind in the moonlight. There was the slight jingling of chain links on the armor mingled with the sounds of tack on the mounts. Beyond that, silence prevailed.
“I have not discussed the matter at length with the King,” replied Fenris with a grin. “King Ellidron and I are not confidants. Though I do carry a scrying ball that will connect me to his palace at need.”
“Yes,” said the Underofficer, looking impatiently at the higher ranking man, who should have been leading an entire division at this time, and not a mere regiment. “But you are a confidant of the Princess, and she has the ear of the King.”
“Well, here we are,” answered Fenris. “In the lands of our greatest enemies. Sent to make contact with these newcomers, at the risk of war between us and Ellandra Mashara. Now how seriously do you think the King takes this prophecy?”
The younger man inclined his head, his eyebrows taut. With a smile he allowed his mount to slow, drifting back into the column to come to the head of his company. Meanwhile the senior enlisted man, subofficer Jiallan’a, pulled up.
“Another curious child,” said the senior NCO, looking back down the line.
“Everyone is curious,” said the high commander with a smile. “By the Gods, I’m curious. But we will know nothing until we actually meet with these humans, as our countrymen are meeting with these Polish in the grasslands.”
“And we know nothing of how that meeting has gone, either,” said the NCO with a frown.
“Need to know,” said Fenris, remembering the word he had received from the Princess, his lover. Things were going well up there from what she had said. He looked back at the NCO. “Need to know.”
“I’ve always hated that term,” said the NCO. “Hated it on my first stint with the Army, millennia ago. Hate it on this stint. But I know it is something I’ll have to live with.”
“Only for a few more days, Jiallan’a,” said the High Commander, seeing a clearing ahead and scouts coming back down the path. “I think we’ve found our bedding place for the night. And I for one am for some sleep.”
Chapter Two
“I guess it’s time to stop for the night,” said Reinhold Schrenker, the current driver of the car.
Dirk Winslow nodded his head while he watched the cars ahead being herded off the road and into parking places, the Army MPs and others waving flashlights in the early dusk to point cars to their resting places for the night. Ahead were the bright points of multiple fires, and it looked like the Army had figured on a camp out tonight.
“It felt so good to have people around us again today,” said Anni Goeble, smiling at Dirk.
Dirk returned the smile, feeling good at having the attention directed at him by the pretty woman. It did feel good to have other people around us, he thought in agreement. Especially fans. That brought another thought, echoed by Reinhold’s brother, Wolfgang.
“Where in the hell is our equipment,” said the bass player of The Tarantulas, a worried expression on his face.
“They waved the military vehicles through,” said Peter Steiner, the second guitar player, from the back seat of the crowded car.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Reinhold, a tight smile flickering across his face. “Those army boys will make sure it gets to the refuge.”
Dirk nodded as he thought about that. Of course they were all worried about their equipment, the instruments,
drums and amplifiers of the band. This morning it had looked like they might have to leave it all behind on this endless forest road, and then came the army to the rescue. The van had to be dumped, but the soldiers had talked their commanding officer into loading up the precious instruments and a basic amp pack. It seemed they had fans in the military, and the officer had been more than willing to go along when he found out they could play Scorpion covers as well as their own stuff. Still, it was worrying to lose track of the instruments.
Worrying for everyone but Karl Wilhelm, thought Dirk, looking back at the group’s vocalist, who has passed out from his daily high. I wonder if he has a magical piece of hash with him, that renews each day. It didn’t seem that Hartmann would ever run out, and he had been smoking continuously since they had arrived on this world. Not that he had been stingy either, but except for a few goodnight tokes the rest of the band had eschewed the narcotic as Dirk had requested of them. This world was dangerous enough without wandering around stoned.
“It is the musicians,” said one of the military police after Reinhold parked the car in the requested place and the band members disembarked, Wolfgang and Peter supporting Karl Wilhelm. “Will you play at your camp tonight?”
“I guess we can do an acoustic set,” said Dirk, flashing the man a smile. He nodded at Reinhold, who opened up the trunk and handed Dirk one of the acoustic guitar cases, then grabbed the other two, containing a second guitar and an acoustic bass. “Could you grab the tom, Anni?” he said to his girlfriend, a woman he had not known until a couple of days ago.
“What’s that smell?” said Peter, looking over toward the nearest fire.
Dirk noticed the smell as well, and his stomach started rumbling as he felt the day’s lack of food.
“The cooks are preparing venison and pork,” said the MP, a smile stretching his face. “Unknown benefactors left the kills along the road, and we have plenty to eat.”