The Foliage:Termination (The Foliage Series Book 2)

by Nathan Ward

  “He promised us water and food.”

  “My husband also claimed that you had decided to help me. But we both know that’s not true!”Said Alana, glaring down at Joy, who dwelled at her feet in the river of crimson.

  “Hand me your weapon, soldier,” Commanded Alana, reaching out her hand.

  “Ma’am?”

  The soldier looked at her in confusion, unsure whether he should obey that order.

  But Alana turned her gaze away from Joy and acknowledged the Soldier with an infuriated expression of sincerest aggression.

  “Your gun, give it to me!” she yelled.

  The Soldier quickly obeyed her order and handed over his rifle, it didn’t carry much weight to it so Alana was able to manage it, swiftly drawing it against her chest and aiming it down at Joy, keeping a tight grip with both hands.

  Joy had no choice but to stare up at the barrel that was pointed towards her forehead, her gaze filled with dread as she looked into the deep centre blackness, waiting for the tip of the bullet to come blasting out - but the motion of the gun became more distracting now and she couldn’t help but follow the path of the barrel with her eyes.

  “Steady…” Said Joy, as she swayed in the motion of the weapon, but Alana was struggling to keep a firm grip. The sweat had begun to drip slowly down her face as she held on to the rifle for dear life; she could feel it slipping away through her clammy wet hands as sure as she felt the strength sapping from her body. She fought against her weakness as she raised up her anger once more.

  “You’re going live through the pain you caused me, every last second of it until you take your last dying breath!” Alana said bitterly, her finger trembling and shaking as it pulled against the firm steel trigger.

  Captain Jordan marched up the slabs rising on to the second level of the fort, up ahead was another set of slabs leading directly on to the wall where the defense had been strategically positioned with their 101 sniper rifle elites equipped.

  Jordan made his way up to the top and leaned over the stone ledge, peering out at the miles of greenery and woodland. There seemed to be nothing he could set his sights on, he had begun to wonder why he had been so urgently summoned. The land looked peaceful, glistening in the sun rays.

  Two soldiers suited up in their white leathers and helmets slowly made their way along the wall to meet with Captain Jordan, who was embracing the warmth of the sun shining down on to his face.

  The Soldiers stood to attention at the captains flank, they waited patiently until he would acknowledge them, but in his mind, he was elsewhere.

  Jordan had drifted off, into an escape that seemed so real he could smell the salt in the air and sweet scent of the perfume of the women that surrounded him. He carried on inhaling the fresh brisk air slowly through his nostrils and exhaling out of his mouth, his eyes closed tight allowing his mind to wander:

  He had painted a picture in his mind, a living picture that he had melted into, of an exotic beach filled with half naked women on the sand and emerging from the sea as droplets of salt water ran from their tanned bodies, their barely there bikinis clinging to their bodies in a way that made their skimpy clothing pointless because he would see everything they had to offer... and with an unlimited supply of alcohol on tab at the nearest refreshment bar, Jordan felt as if he had gone to heaven for this single rare moment.

  “I’ll be with you in a second, boys. Just finishing this glass of fine mother fucking whiskey!”

  The two soldiers looked across at one another and shrugged their shoulders in admittance to confusion. They turned back, waiting for the Captain to finish the unreal scenario he had slipped in to. He reached for his radio dangling off his suit lapel and slowly removed it, pulling it away from the leather and raising it in the air and holding the stance while the sun burned against his flesh.

  The two soldiers didn’t know how to react, as they had become extremely uncomfortable and freaked out by this time.

  All of a sudden, Jordan expressed a sigh of relief and cried out “Cheers!” followed by a powerful plunge as he threw the radio to the ground where it shattered on impact into hundreds of tiny plastic pieces – they scattered and dropped off the side of the wall, raining down in to the courtyard that sat below them.

  “Sorry, where were we?” asked Jordan, who had turned to address the two bewildered soldiers who were stood to attention behind him. Then it came back to him.

  “Ah! Yes, a problem. I can’t help but see no problems here!”claimed Jordan, expressively raising his hands high and fingers outstretched in what could be considered a comedic manor – almost as if he might be drunk on fresh air.

  “We’ve lost contact with a scout unit, inner circle” one of the Soldiers explained.

  “The inner circle?” asked Jordan, whose expression had changed to one of thunderous rage, “Why wasn’t this reported sooner? Has no one picked anything up?”

  Then in a frantic hurry, he leapt along the wall, checking his sights against all of the marksmen. There were at least ten guards positioned along the top wall and none had picked up a trace of any threats or intruders within the perimeter.

  The disappearance had come as an unpleasant surprise.

  “We called in about ten minutes ago and his radio was dead, it could have been out for a lot longer for all we know, but no one has seen anything so it’s definitely not another screamer.”

  Jordan came to an abrupt halt, taking a back step to address the entailing soldier, raising his hand and pointing at his chest.

  “They’re not screamers, okay? We call them Howlers. And no it’s definitely not one of them, well done!” Jordan turned back and continued to march along the wall taking a quick glance over the shoulders of his marksmen as he passed by.

  “M.. my only fear, Captain...is perhaps if they are intelligent enough, they may have already breached us,” the soldier said nervously, dragging himself along behind the Captain, who had upped his pace and continued to stomp along the walls hoping to catch a glimpse of something or someone - but nothing caught the gaze of his vision.

  “No, that’s impossible. I’d know if that was the case believe me, soldier!” Jordan assured him.

  Unaware that something had just launched in to the sky, Jordan continued his energetic journey along the wall until he finally noticed the sizable mass falling from what seemed to be the clouds, a dark black sphere rotating as it fell by earth’s gravity. Jordan glared upwards towards the falling mass using his hand to shield his eyes from the intensity of the bright sky. The black silhouetted mass abruptly crunched to the ground and settled at Captain Jordan’s boots. He slowly lowered his head, allowing a moment for his eyes to focus on the object at his feet. He could make out something beginning to move, but as his vision cleared it became apparent that it was a bloody river leaking out on to the stone slabs.

  Jordan looked down at the severed head as the eyes of his once close friend glared back at him with no emotion, just a forever lasting emptiness - but what he did manage to retain in death was his chilling grin, the look of a total psychopath.

  Chapter 13: The Raven

  Jordan was transfixed at the sight before him, glaring down in to the emotionless sunken eyes of his fallen comrade. All trains of thought had been suddenly shut off; he was frozen in astonishment– thrown completely off his bearings. He had finally been made to feel vulnerable while he stood in his trance, something he had not felt in a very long time...

  As he continued to look on, watching the syrup like crimson oozing along the cracked slabs and trickling down the walls into the courtyard, the only clouded thought he could manage to grasp at was why anyone would commit such a dishonorable, disgusting act - then proceed to make it known, drawing the attention of the fortress. But in this instance their attention didn’t know where to target, they knew they were now under attack, but by what? Who was idiotic enough to approach Captain Jordan’s walls instead of discreetly disappearing into the blackness where they so belonged?

/>   Reminded of the lives he had taken, Jordan felt heavily responsible for the survival of all those he had led and taken under his wing – at the back of his mind when he looked deep enough seeking guidance, he swore he would always see the great Lord himself giving him the big thumbs up of approval, which made everything he did, perfectly and utterly justified.

  Then something caused Jordan to shift his gaze, he raised his head and peered on along the wall defense. There was something out of place but he couldn’t put his finger on it, there were four marksmen with their sniper rifles drawn against their faces, seeking and waiting for the opposition to enter their sights - but beyond them was the tower of the wall facing out west, completely unguarded - and this had begun to worry the Captain as he wishfully hoped that direction had been cleared...

  The Captain bulldozed his way down the wall line passing behind the guardsmen approaching the tower, as he neared the wooden boarded door he picked up his pace and forced his shoulder against it, pounding it open with a single blow, ripping the door from its hinges and sending it spiraling down the vast stair well until it came to a crashing halt at the ground level which led out in to the courtyard.

  The Captain took a few steps inside with his eyes glued to the ascending stair well, convinced someone was inside the tower with him. He carefully began to creep up the stone steps, watching every corner of his sights for any movements or shifting shadows that the sun had been casting through the tiny window holes. The Captain followed his instinct, taking small, quiet steps up the stair well, also listening out for any possible sound that would confirm the presence of the intruder he was hunting, a step, a breath, the smallest fleeting movement...

  The Captain’s attention remained drawn to the slabs that were slowly being revealed as he progressed up the stairwell, one foot advancing in front of the other with great care and deliberation. His patience had begun to wear thin, already bored of the same outcome after every turn but he managed to keep focused, lowering his hands in to his pockets and carefully removing the two halves of his javelin, then he slowly pushed the two ends together and began to screw the threads, turning the end in his right hand until they formed the shape of the javelin he had used to slaughter the villainous members of their community. He made sure they were locked firmly together before lowering it to his side with the sharpest end pointed towards the spiraling stairwell that he ascended. He knew there wasn’t much of a climb left, so if his premonition was correct he guessed he had better come face to face with the culprit soon - or have to deal with the frustrating fact that he had made an error of judgment, something he would have a hard time accepting when his standards were always held as high as the heavens above and his Lord who he knew blessed his every action - even those that drew blood - because he did it in the name of his mighty Lord, and that made it sanctified. There could be no room for error...

  With only twenty more segmented slabs left until the Captain would reach the summit, nagging doubt had settled in and he was readying himself to descend back down the stairwell - until his eyes fell upon the distinctive looking shape of a boot - and as he rose up the last few steps his gaze unveiled the body of a man, laid awkwardly along the stone slabs.

  Captain Jordan inhaled a desperate gasp of air as he overlooked the suit that the man was wearing: It was one of his own that must have been on tower duties prior to his untimely death which appeared to be suspiciously orchestrated with ease -

  the body had been positioned with both hands carefully placed to cup the gushing pool of crimson that had been pouring from the dead man's stomach, stopping it from escaping down the tower and alerting the attention of his fellow guardsmen. This was not the work of an amateur. The thought of who or what he might be up against in this devil strewn, blown to hell world made his throat go tight...

  Jordan was in no doubt that he was now opposing someone or something with at least the equal physical and mental strength of his own, which sent a nerve shaking chill down his spine as he looked up towards the head of the fallen soldier which had now become the temporary resting place to a dark feathered creature with glistening, bead-like eyes.

  The Captain cautiously tried to approach a little closer for a better look, but was immediately threatened by a shrieking squawk, followed by a drilling peck of the creature’s beak in to the eye ball of the deceased soldier. It then raised its head to glare back at Jordan with its black eyes digging into his gaze like needle points as a slither of crimson dripped down its sharp, agile beak.

  “I am sorry, but I did not anticipate you, my friend,” he muttered as he recalled how the Lord made all the creatures – even the ones who had survived this Armageddon and now lived on in the ruins, eating everything they could find – even human flesh.

  He remained where he stood, staring in to the beady eyes of the beautiful raven still perched on the soldier’s forehead staring sharply down at Jordan, who was cowered at the foot of the corpse, still with a tight grip on his steel javelin. The sunlight had begun to cast a beam of light through a nearby hole in the wall of the tower that settled across his sights, hiding the raven from his vision, reminding him that those who go unseen are then forgotten - apart from those he loved – and the thought of love summoned an image of Alana shining bright as a beacon in Jordan’s mind while the menacing bird of sorrow remained out of sight.

  The thumping sound of distant gunshots began to echo up the cylindrical tower striking fear in to the raven; it leapt to the window ledge and took to the skies rather hastily, dark wings flapping on air, feathers gleaming as it swiftly disappeared beyond the clouds.

  The Captain stepped over the soldiers’ corpse and ran to the summit of the tower, where he had a perfect view of the fortress. From where he stood, all of his guardsmen looked like ants from this height but he could just about make them out aligned along the fort wall.

  The guardsmen had taken up a covering position and turned their sights towards the courtyard behind them. The Captain could see the muzzle flash of the intruder’s rifle illuminating a passage alcove every time a shot was fired – he knew his land had been breached but he had no clue how, nothing had managed to pass his defense before. It was as if they had entered through the walls like some kind of paranormal entity, but Captain Jordan refused to believe in ghosts, for there could only be one spirit and that was Holy - so instead he simply wrote it off as an unexpected attack that could be contained, not willing to dwell too much on thoughts of good versus evil in a world where the devils seemed to out weigh the Lord's good men.

  The rifle shots had begun to pick up rapidly, holding back the fort defense - bullet after bullet finding its way into the stone walls that the soldiers had hid against.

  Every time one of the bullets struck the wall a fragment of rock would fling itself over on to the walkway, as more bullets peppered the walls the soldiers were only too aware of the sheer power behind the small pointed shells that could wound like shrapnel if caught in its path.

  The Captain just watched on, knowing he was far too high from the action to intervene, so he took a step back and made his way to the summit archway and carelessly stumbled over the soldiers’ corpse that remained in his pathway, rested along the stone slabs as blood ran freely, setting red gleaming streaks ugly against the cold smooth stone.

  He then launched himself quickly down the stairwell, missing a few slabs in his stride, a stride that had picked up enormously as he ran downwards. He was in a desperate hurry to return to ground level and it showed through the manic way he descended down the tower until finally he reemerged in to the sunlight.

  Now he was back outside, the glare was pretty intense as it shone across Jordan's face - he couldn’t see which of his men were ahead of him so he dived against the wall, narrowly avoiding a sniper shot that flew over his head. He slumped to the ground, taking deep breaths to recharge his exhausted lungs – he knew he could take this short break to recuperate his energy so while doing so he placed his steel javelin on to the ground beside hi
m and unzipped another one of his jacket pockets, this one was a little larger than the ones on his thighs that housed the two halves of the javelin weapon. He pushed his hand inside the opening and ripped out a selection of components which in short time - thanks to much practice in the past - were assembled to create what looked like a hand gun, but not any old hand gun, this model was something special that looked like it had been worked on for quite some time. The Captain paused to admire the craftsmanship of the piece, but then his attention was drawn sharply back to the hostilities as another rifle shot fired but this time the shooter had their eye on a specific target, the drawbridge. It suddenly began to collapse and with a large crash and a rumble it embedded itself in the ground, allowing safe passage in and out of the fortress.

  “We are breached!! We are breached!” yelled Captain Jordan.

  Then he took a chance and rose to his feet to take a glance over the wall expecting the courtyard to be infested with advancing intruders - but instead, he was surprised to see no apparent change, just a sharpshooter set up across from his position attempting to take out his men.

  Jordan flung his arm over the wall pointing his weapon in the direction of the enemy, he rose his other hand and tweaked the position of two little bright wires that had been extruded and wrapped into place on the casing of the firearm. Once he was happy with the way it looked Jordan pulled the trigger, launching a small but powerful burst of energy across the courtyard and into the wall from which the shooter had been firing. The wall imploded, bursting in to a flurry of debris that abruptly fell and found its resting place in the centre of the soiled courtyard.

  The wall defense gazed down in shock, unable to process what they had just witnessed as a thick haze of rubble and dust expanded in to the air.

  The Captain was frozen in amazement, staring at the barrel of his weapon which had begun to glow a fiery shade of orange and emit a vicious trail of smoke.