by Jason Letts
“Let’s get into formation,” Mira commanded.
Roselyn and Vern faced the scrub forest, while the others spread out into two diagonal lines. They crept toward the forest’s edge, trying to peek into its blackness. Out in the open, they felt exposed, expecting at each moment to hear that inevitable rush come thundering at them.
“Move up a little bit, Kurt,” Mira called, waving her arm. He had his knife in his hand but wasn’t close to where he should be.
“Mary?” Will huffed without taking his eyes from the forest. He hyperventilated, causing heavy gusts to pat down the decayed grass.
“Nothing. I can’t feel anyone else,” she said.
“That should come as a relief, but I can’t calm down,” Vern said.
“Where are you?” Mira whispered to herself. “I’m ready for you.”
They had stopped moving forward, staying clear of the forest’s edge by a stone’s throw. They waited, already drowning in apprehension and adrenaline.
“You want me to yell? I could yell,” Rowland chattered.
“I don’t think I can do this,” Kurt said.
“Just relax,” Chucky whispered.
Roselyn began to sing a soft melody under her breath, attempting to calm them all down even though the fear had drained all the blood from her pale face.
“Bout time you come.”
“What was that, Mira?” Vern asked, cocking his head to the side.
But it was not Mira who spoke, and she darted her eyes as a vicious scowl formed on her face.
“Another faceless voice? Come on!” Mira chided. “If there’s one thing I’m sick of.”
But the others appeared more confused about the voice that seemed so much like Mira’s, jerking their heads around to try and figure it out.
“Oh, I gots a face alright.”
Something red appeared within the darkness, gradually growing brighter and more distinct. A figure emerged, shiny and sleek. The voice’s owner was covered head to toe in brilliant red armor that seemed neither metal nor cloth. She sauntered out of the charcoal forest, carrying a swooping golden sword over her shoulder. Everyone stared, frozen.
“We been waiting a long time, Mira. But we knew you’d show eventually,” she drawled.
Mira, moving out into the middle of their formation, peered at her, trying to figure out what was under the red helmet that shielded her face. She held a ready stance.
“How do you know who I am?” Mira asked.
In one swift motion, the girl in the red armor peeled off her helmet. She revealed dark brown hair, tanned skin, and a pair of fiery almond eyes. Her cheekbones, her lips, every part smacked them as so eerily familiar.
“She looks just like you!” Vern gasped.
Everyone’s mouths dropped open when they realized the face was just like Mira’s only a little different, and there was only one possible explanation.
Chapter 4: Sink or Swim
Mira, stunned, couldn’t believe her eyes beheld the same face that had come to her in her father’s mist, on the top of Shadow Mountain, and in countless yearning dreams. She stared blankly as her sister lowered the helmet, which disappeared into thin air when she dropped it, never touching the ground.
“Cuz I know all about you. You don’t got a gift and yet you snoop around in the eye of the storm,” she said.
“I came for you, Clara,” Mira said, amazed. “We can run from this place. We can get our revenge for what happened to you!”
“What name is that? It don’t mean nothing to me. I’m Pyrenee and I lead this army to get back at those of you who left us behind.”
“But our parents never left you behind. They had given up hope but were so surprised when we found out you’re alive, and I immediately set out to rescue you!”
Pyrenee laughed, much like Mira might have in her brighter days.
“What’cha think, I’m gonna just run back after you forgot about me? I don’t need rescuing. I’m home! I got my own family, and he has a vision to make a place for them who ain’t got none. But you can’t never understand his infinite wisdom.”
Mira struggled to understand what she was witnessing. How could her sister not want to come home? Where was the happy reunion she had promised herself through all her struggles? The gears in her head screeched to a halt as all her expectations jammed together. To Mira, her sister seemed so uncouth and uneducated. The others kept up their guard, ready to defend Mira but gawking openly at her double. In the back, Mary whispered to Vern.
“It still doesn’t feel like anyone else is here.”
“You can’t mean the same one who abducted you!” Mira retorted, desperately. “Think of what he’s done to you. You can’t be happy. Look at what you’ve become!”
“What’s got your panties in a pinch? I like what I become. In a fight there ain’t nothing can touch me, and I get to do it everyday. Besides, look at yourself. Seems for all that good your family did you ain’t turned out no different from me. I can see it in you,” Pyrenee cackled.
Mira felt disgusted by her ignorant and deluded mirror image. It made her furious that all her work to come here had been a waste, that she had trusted her love to someone so undeserving. All those nights she’d spent dreaming of being reunited with her sister, the memories cleaved her mind in two.
“I’m nothing like you! At least I’ve known better than to do a villain’s work!” Mira shouted, gripping her weapon.
“Don’t you dare speak of him that way. If there’s one thing he saved me from, it’s you!”
“If you wish to side with your abductor, then you’ll suffer the consequences along with him!” The indignity and the revulsion sickened Mira, who hollered and charged forward.
Pyrenee readied her sword, smiling as Mira dashed at her. In an instant, lines formed around her face, filling in with red to replicate the helmet she had tossed away. When they collided and the golden sword met with Mira’s electrified mace, sparks and jolts shot into the air. The gold reflected the sunlight, seeming to wield it and flow into it. Yelling and growling, the two girls clashed, thrashing at each other’s weapons. Rowland’s metal work held back Pyrenee’s attacks and allowed Mira to make some of her own.
The others watched intently, ready to help and yet unsure of what to do. They waited for an opening, a chance, but doing anything seemed impossible as the two girls constantly spun and swirled. Mira took a big swipe only for Pyrenee to jump into the air, flip over her, and attack from behind. Mira could barely duck fast enough to avoid the sharp blade slicing at her throat. She tried to kick at her sister, but missed.
It didn’t take long to see that Pyrenee was much stronger with a sword. She wielded it effortlessly, lunging and swiping like it was made of air. But Mira knew enough to defend herself, guarding her side and retaliating without leaving herself open. The sweat began to trickle into Mira’s eyes. She grew tired as the battle went on, while her sister never showed the least signs of fatigue.
Pyrenee moved as swiftly as ever, avoiding Dot’s stones in addition to Mira’s swings. Dot, frustrated that her throws weren’t striking her target, began to aim for different parts. She flung rocks at her feet, body, and head, but none connected. Pyrenee batted away Mira’s weapon with a heavy stroke and knocked her off balance. She cocked her arm back and swung for Mira’s left shoulder when the loud ping of a stone deflected the attack, causing it to just skim by her uniform. Somehow the sword was there for Dot to aim for, but the rest of Pyrenee wasn’t. Finally getting a hit, Dot threw exclusively for the golden sword, each successive ping aggravating the one who wielded it.
“You can’t beat me!” Pyrenee taunted.
“Older sisters always win,” Mira hissed, regaining her weapon.
They exchanged attacks, swinging, blocking, and pressing forward. Each swing helped Mira expel her disappointment and her anger, both of which seemed in inexhaustible supply.
“I can’t get a hold of her,” Vern said, holding his hand out and trying to catch on to the girl in the
red armor. Pyrenee found the offensive again, battering against Mira’s mace and knocking her back. She spun around, swiping low at Mira’s legs, but Mira lifted from the ground and floated over the blade on her way to Vern. He set her back on her feet as well as he could, and Mira hobbled and ran a few steps before she could turn back to her opponent.
Some space between them, Pyrenee lifted herself into the air, floating above them. Her furtive smile never faded. She swooped down at Mira, holding her sword and its bright tip forward. Will blew into the air at her, but his wind had no effect.
Mira dropped on her back as the flying lunge passed above her by inches. Pyrenee continued on, forcing Vern and Roselyn to dive onto their sides. She landed and turned, striding forward to once again engage Mira.
“Aim for her sword!” Dot shouted to Vern, while Pyrenee raised it to strike at Mira, who struggled to get up. Vern extended his hand to work his gravity against the sword, holding it in place, just as she jerked to swing it.
Mira, on her knees, swung the mace at Pyrenee’s exposed midsection. But the blow passed through her without so much as a spark. Mira’s mouth dropped open, astonished.
“You’re not real! Where are you?” she gasped.
But Pyrenee only laughed as the color in her form faded into thinning lines, and soon the lines disappeared into nothing. They spun around, looking for where she might have gone, but no trace of her remained anywhere.
“They’re coming!” Mary shrieked, clutching at her heart. Everyone looked into the scrub forest, and in the next instant they heard a soft sound, like running water. It grew steadily into a roar, accompanied by faint flickers of movement in the dark. The raucous noise gripped them all. There were hundreds of warriors barreling down at them. The group turned to Mira, whose pale face uttered only one word.
“Run!”
Turning on their heels, the ten soldiers raced back across the flat stretch of wasteland for the rocky hillside, pumping their legs as fast as they could. Chucky ran alongside Mira, looking down at her strained face. The yelling hung right behind their ears, threatening to envelope them if they faltered over the loose stone. Within range of the large boulders, they yearned for even such a porous barrier.
“No, this way!” Mary yelled, leading them south and out into the open.
“But there’s nothing over there!” Mira hollered.
“Trust me!” Mary shot back, and the others turned from their escape route toward the sweeping, open wasteland.
At that moment, the rampaging warriors flooded from the scrub forest. Seeing their prey, they swooped after them, hustling and churning. Many of them had on the black Sunfighter uniform, but some wore little more than rags. Regardless of their attire, they all ran with a bloodthirsty, depraved hunger. Some had spears, staffs, or other crude weaponry.
Needing only to glance back once to make them fear for their lives, Mira’s tiny troop sped over sand and rock. The horde breathed down their necks, leaving them no place to hide and no way to escape.
Sprinting along, Mary led them around the side of the jagged hill. Passing around the curve, they spotted a legion of soldiers in the distance. Their tan uniforms were barely visible against the grainy, pale earth. As they marched forward, the group of ten yelled and waved their arms to get their allies’ attention.
But only when they saw the enemy force did the Shade legion break their march and begin to hasten forward. Hundreds of warriors hurtling at them from each side, Mira and her friends braced themselves for impact. They could feel the ground shake. The roar was deafening. All they could do was turn around, face their enemy, and wait for their allies to come.
“Get behind me! I’ll block the charge!” Aoi said, and the others quickly formed a line. They huddled in her wake, even though she was the smallest, and held their breath for the deluge to overtake them. Aoi stared into the eyes of the first on-rusher zeroing in on her. Her calm, focused attention differed starkly from his raving, bearded lunacy.
Only a few paces between them, Aoi crouched low and then burst up at him. Her force knocked him back, shoving him off the ground and forcing him to collide with those behind. In the next instant they had been set upon on all sides. Immediately, the struggles and frantic wails of two clashing armies filled every inch of space and every moment of sound.
Mira and her friends broke from their hidden position and defended themselves from the confusing human mass that tried to tear them apart. Mira wielded her mace without mercy. Roselyn sung, empowering her friends and weakening her enemies. Chucky and Vern desperately fought off attackers. Dot launched stone after stone, never failing to hit an eye or a crucial joint.
But in this battle that spread out over hundreds of yards, they were vulnerable to more than just those within arm’s reach. A pair of cyclones kicked up just as the battle began. They meandered aimlessly around the battlefield, ripping warriors off the ground, spinning them high into the air, and then spitting them out in any direction. The tornadoes yanked the soldiers from Dustfalls from their feet and distributed them out around the war zone at random. Most of them had no protection from a fall, and they smacked into the unforgiving ground.
Mira struggled to rise after being thrown so carelessly through the air. Stretched out on the ground, she wasted no time digging into the bag of healer hair she kept in her pocket. A smoggy cloud settled around her, and she knew she had precious seconds before another enemy would attack. She rolled over just in time to see the point of a shiny spear emerging from the cloud. Mira deflected it and then rolled away.
The cloud made her cough as she struggled to avoid the sharp edge. Just as Mira thought about calling for help, the spear dropped to the ground. The cloud disappeared, revealing a man inside and Gloria behind clamping onto his neck. He dropped to the ground, and Gloria approached Mira.
“Can I help you up?” Gloria asked her, extending her slimy, poisonous hand.
Mira got to her feet under her own power and dashed off into the fray, Gloria running to join her.
Mary had just avoided the cyclone when Chucky grabbed her and pulled her to the ground. She screamed at first, afraid that an enemy mauled her, but she felt better when she realized it was Chucky. She could already see the sweaty goop collecting on his face and hands. Some of it got on her uniform and she tried to rub it away.
Chucky rose quickly, trying to make room for them within the frenzied fighting. As soon as Mary regained her footing, she screamed when she saw someone approaching from behind. The two of them crouched out of the way, hiding behind another cluster of fighters. There didn’t seem to be anywhere they could go that wouldn’t put them in danger.
Clinging to Chucky’s waist, Mary emitted another terrified scream. Chucky jerked his head around, unable to find the reason for it. Mary pulled out her lighter and started to squeeze it rapidly. A spark or two glimmered within the tiny metal cup.
“Where is he?” Chucky asked.
“What am I supposed to do with this thing?” Mary yelped.
Chucky took a sudden punch to the face, forcing him to stagger to the side. He still couldn’t see what hit him or where it came from.
“It’s camouflage,” Mary said, sensing the power of their attacker with her own.
A swift fist struck Chucky’s stomach. He tried to swing back but got nothing but air.
“Tell me where and when he’s coming,” Chucky told her, reaching one hand into the opposite sleeve. Wiping his arm, his hand collected a solid clump of goop. Unable to speak in time, Mary squeezed Chucky’s right side instead. Just as he took a blow against his chest, he reached out and wiped the oil against the attacker. It seemed to float in the air, giving away his position.
Seeing the smear move and swivel, Chucky caught the next punch and held onto the arm.
“Now, the lighter!” Chucky shouted to Mary, who suddenly got kicked in the leg. Someone else bumped into Chucky from behind, almost causing him to lose his hold. Mary stuck out her arm, unable to even look. Squeezing the me
tal handle, it created a spark that ignited the oil streak. Seeing it catch, both Chucky and Mary took the opportunity to get away.
Elsewhere, Will found himself fighting against more than he could handle. A huge rockslide tumbled from the top of the nearby hill, showering the ground with stone and crushing warriors until the hill lost all of its height. The rock swept over the ground in every direction long after it should have rolled to a stop. Will scrambled to avoid one flying stone only to feel another drive into his back. Cringing, he fought through the avalanche, afraid of being caught inside a rocky tomb.
Will stumbled over the shifting and rolling rocks, caught in the dust storm that the cyclones and the avalanche had kicked up. People were running in all directions around him, colliding and fighting. There were blasts and explosions, quick flashes of light that lit up the smoke. He didn’t know where to go or where his friends were.
Hobbling along, trying to arch his back to stretch away the ache from where the rock had struck him, he heard a deep bellowing and saw some movement in the smoke. Someone had spotted him, and the hazy air cleared to reveal a grizzly scoundrel in a tattered black uniform bearing down at him.
His mouth, dry from the smoke, dropped open. He shivered and tried to figure out where he could run. He gripped the knife and took one step to the left before doubling back to the right. The evil sheen in his enemy’s eyes and a spear held high overhead rushed closer. Will’s legs tangled, failing to take him anywhere.
The enemy warrior held the spear much too high, and Will easily ducked it when they slammed together. The collision sent Will flying onto his back as the warrior halted, a dazed look on his face. He touched his hand to the center of his chest and dropped to his knees.
Will saw through his panic and realized he was OK. He strained to get up, and that’s when he noticed the bloody knife in his hands. The warrior let out a searing cry, shaking as he fell onto his side right near Will. Wide-eyed and astonished, Will stared openly at the aggrieved man next to him, blood dripping from his mouth onto his unshaven chin.
