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Wastelands

Page 12

by Jack Porter


  It was as if they were waiting for something.

  A signal? A call to attack?

  Either way, I knew in my heart that we were too badly outnumbered.

  We were all going to die, and these creatures would feast on our bones and take the supplies.

  It was a shame, really. I was just starting to enjoy myself in this new world.

  And these sand walkers were about to take it all away from me.

  The thought was enough to make me grit my teeth in anger. I gripped the pommel of my sword more tightly than before and set myself to meet the attackers.

  I even considered charging into the night, just to get things started.

  But I didn’t. Instead, I waited beside Ash, who seemed as calm as ever.

  “Fuck it. What are they waiting for?” I asked, not expecting an answer.

  Behind me, Lady Gamma and Camille had fully emerged from their wagons. The former took a position on the driver’s seat, but Camille approached to stand behind Ash and I, a knife held in each hand.

  I figured she would turn and run at the first charge from the enemy.

  Yet her expression was fierce and determined when she said, “Something is coming. I can sense it.”

  I snapped my attention back to the gathering crowd. Something was coming? A whole fucking army was coming. But that wasn’t what Camille meant, and both Ash and I knew it. The massive troll-like creature shifted uneasily from foot to foot, and I used the night vision setting on my AC lens to scan the wasteland in front of us.

  It didn’t take long to see what Camille had sensed, what we all had sensed. It was like a ripple in the gathering crowd. Something was making its way toward us, and the sand walkers, the revenants in its way, shifted to let it pass.

  Even with my night vision active, this new threat was difficult to focus on. It was like a mobile shadow, a creature made of oil and darkness, and I knew what it was before the HUD told me what I was looking at.

  29

  It was a wraith. Somehow, despite the passage of years, one of the powerful alien invaders had survived. Not only survived, but had retained enough power to command the people of the sand. It was the wraith’s presence alone that had convinced individual groups of sand walkers to act together. It had to be.

  Between the two of us, Ash and I could have defeated any individual group with comparative ease. But with this monster at the helm? That was another story entirely.

  Simply because I could, I checked the Wraith’s stats via my AC lens. And, to my surprise, I found that my initial assumption wasn’t quite right.

  Class: Wraith hybrid

  Dominant DNA: Wraith (56%)

  Additional DNA: Human + assorted others (44%)

  Height: 5’11”

  Weight: 185 pounds

  Age: 147 (approx.)

  Gender: Male

  * * *

  The creature before us was indeed largely a wraith, but it was also part human. So, not a full-blooded alien, but the closest I’d seen so far in this world.

  With some trepidation, I checked its power level and found it to be on a par with Ash’s. And, unsurprisingly, it had a capability as well.

  Capability: Magic user

  But I didn’t need the AC lens to tell me that. I could see it for myself. This wraith was literally clothed in dark magic that swirled around him like a living fog of darkness.

  The wraith made his way to the front of the sand walkers arrayed against us, but he didn’t stop there. Instead, he came closer, crossing the no man’s land that still separated us from them, walking with the aid of a tall staff, the type of thing every fantasy wizard ever had carried.

  I took a stronger grip on my sword. Behind me, Camille disappeared, although whether this was a conscious choice or no more than a reflex, I couldn’t tell. A glance in Lady Gamma’s direction showed her appearing undeterred and expressionless, although Edda was not so controlled. The monkey had scampered to the back of one of the cow-beasts and was jumping up and down, chittering loudly in anger like I’d seen her do so many times before.

  She didn’t like the wraith any more than I did.

  I turned my attention back to the wraith and waited until it was only a few paces away.

  “That’s close enough,” I said. “You’re disturbing our sleep, and quite frankly, I don’t like the way you smell.”

  It was true. Even though the wraith was still some distance away, his odor put the cow-beast’s flatulence to shame. It was like a mixture of sulfur and oil, and I found it beyond nauseating. The wraith paused at my words, and I took that as a good enough sign.

  “So how about you start by begging forgiveness for disturbing our night, before fucking off with your sand walkers back to wherever you came from?”

  “Curious,” the wraith responded, his voice surprisingly deep and grating. “Seldom do those with such power seek to enter my territory. My Queen will be pleased.”

  What the hell was he talking about?

  Ash snarled at the wraith and then rumbled, “State your business or begone.”

  It was difficult to see where the wraith was looking, but I got the impression he flicked a glance in Ash’s direction. Then he returned his gaze to me.

  “My purpose is simple,” he said. “Your future is certain. Your strength will become my own, and that of my Queen. There is no escaping from this. The only question that needs to be answered is if you will offer that strength willingly, and perhaps find a place in my Queen’s service should you prove worthy, or if it will be taken from you under duress.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” I demanded.

  “You do not need to understand,” he said. “All you need to do is submit. Do so now, and you will be treated gently.”

  This wraith really needed to work on his communication skills. I shot a puzzled look at Ash, and even turned to look at Lady Gamma, but gained no insights from either of them. I couldn’t see Camille by that stage, either.

  So I turned back to the wraith. “You’re offering to do what, exactly? You want us to be your prisoners, you want us to give up without a fight?”

  “Others have made this choice,” he said. “Even now, I have one under guard with power such as yours. You will join her one way or another.”

  If the thought of battling against one hundred sand walkers in the dead of night hadn’t pissed me off enough already, this circular nature of the wraith’s speech would have been enough to do it. As it was, it was the icing on the cake.

  I knew the wraith was powerful. I knew that he could back up his words, whatever they actually meant. But I wasn’t ready to go down without a fight, and that’s what he seemed to be asking.

  At the same time, I could feel the compulsion within me. I knew that this wasn’t my question to answer. So I spoke to Lady Gamma over my shoulder.

  “What do you reckon, my lady?” I asked her. “Would you like us to lay down and die, giving up your sacred quest without even a fight, or would you prefer that I jammed this great length of steel up our friend’s ass? I mean, for me, I’m leaning toward the latter, and be damned with the consequences. But I figure given it’s your quest and all, I’ll leave it up to you.”

  Ash was trying to stifle a laugh, but Lady Gamma took my question seriously.

  “It is not in my nature to give up an undertaking so easily,” she said. “When I took on this quest, I promised my father there would be two outcomes. I would either succeed, or I would be dead. I see no reason for that to have changed.”

  I turned back to the wraith and offered a grin. “You hear that, shithead? Now, why don’t you pick up your staff, run along back to your sand walkers, and piss off. Or would you like to feel what it’s like to be split in half by the edge of my blade?”

  In answer, the wraith began chanting in a language that sounded foul, and it seemed as if the darkness was gathering around him.

  I could have used a sequence of the Divine Steps to reach him and made good on my threat, but som
ething about this wraith suggested he might be immune to such efforts. Instead, I tapped into my chi magic gift once again.

  This time, instead of releasing it all at once in a convulsive blast or modulating it to power my lens, I went all Emperor Palpatine on his ass.

  Resting my sword tip on the ground and letting go with one of my hands, I shot blue and white lightning from my fingers toward the wraith.

  It was something I’d thought I ought to be able to do but hadn’t yet tried. And while I was half-amazed that it worked, I felt my chi reserves take a serious hit.

  Nevertheless, it seemed to surprise the wraith. Moving quickly, he conjured a barrier of darkness, but appeared shaken when my lightning pierced it and him as well, lighting him up like a Halloween decoration, or like an x-ray machine showing his skeleton.

  It wasn’t a normal skeleton, either, having altogether too many bones and a skull that was grossly misshapen. But I could only study it for a moment before Ash got into the game.

  She let out a massive battle roar, took two quick strides toward the wraith and teed off with her club, smashing at him with such strength that he sailed back into the darkness.

  If she’d smashed at me in the same way, I was pretty sure I would have stopped breathing. But I was equally sure that the wraith, while perhaps a bit sore, would very likely walk off this physical insult with little effort.

  As if to confirm my suspicion, I heard his surprisingly deep voice rise from where he had landed. “So… Be… It!” he said.

  As if that was the signal for which they’d been waiting, the gathering crowd of sand walkers let out a series of howls and shouts that were more animal than human, and charged toward us at full roar.

  30

  If anything, these sand walkers were more deformed and animalistic than those we’d fought before. They charged at us with nothing but teeth and claws as often as with weapons, relying on their strength, ferocity, and sheer numbers in place of any true skill.

  Even so, they were formidable.

  Perhaps these desert creatures were the result of some evolutionary process that had weeded out all the weak ones. Each sand walker I faced was stronger, faster, and more durable than a normal man, and even if they lacked weapons, their teeth and claws were not to be taken lightly, and some of them had flesh like armor.

  I drew a deep breath and closed my eyes for just long enough to find a place of balance, then opened my eyes once again and unleashed the full force of the Divine Steps combined with the strength of my blade.

  I spun and danced through the first waves of the attacking sand walkers like the spinning blade of a helicopter, each scything impact of my blade against flesh barely slowing me down. In a heartbeat, I’d slaughtered two attackers and crippled two more, all following different sequences of steps one after another, moving fluidly from one to the next without pausing for breath.

  My brain seemed to fizz with excitement as my sword cut through air, flesh, and bone, a sixty-pound chunk of metal that felt as light as a feather and as responsive as my own arm.

  With each step on my dance, another foe fell, and blood and tissue flew through the air. In moments, I had opened up an arc of death all around me, where nothing but corpses could enter.

  Nor was I the only one to enjoy early success. Ash’s strength was prodigious. Her club cleared any and all attackers, and not gently. Where my blade cut cleanly, shearing heads from shoulders and limbs from bodies, Ash’s club turned opponents into meat jelly. Bones were not proof against her strength. Skulls, arms, ribs, and more became deformed with sickening ease, and if the waste walkers who took the impact survived the initial affront, they would be crippled for life.

  And in this harsh environment, that life would doubtless be short.

  Despite the circles of death surrounding me and Ash, the sand walkers still came. Not only did they attack directly, trying their luck against my sword and Ash’s club, but they also tried to sneak around the edges. And despite my skill and Ash’s indomitable strength, there was only so much we could do. We couldn’t be everywhere, no matter how fast I performed the steps, and no matter how broadly Ash swung her club.

  There were too many of them, and they were everywhere.

  But we weren’t done. Those few defiled remnants of humanity that got through found themselves facing an invisible menace that cut them down just as quickly as Ash and I did.

  The first time I saw it happen, it caught me by surprise. I’d been about to leave my post in order to split a hulking wolf-thing in two before it could reach Lady Gamma and the wagons, when suddenly the creature stood in place. In the blink of an eye, a sequence of wounds opened up. Hamstrings first, then, with the precision of a butcher, a wound over each kidney. Before the vile creature could even realize it was dead, blood began to spill from a new gash at its throat.

  I knew then that Camille hadn’t left the field of battle, as I’d half expected her to do. She was still there, still behind me and Ash, doing her bit with the skills that she had.

  Nor was the wolf-thing the only desert beast to get through. A steady stream of wasteland creatures made it, giving Camille plenty of practice with her knives.

  She did not disappoint. While holding onto her vanishing skill, she carved up those attackers that got past me and Ash with dedication and efficiency.

  Between the three of us, we were a deadly group of adventurers, and I couldn’t help but feel a certain pride at our capabilities.

  If such a battle could be compared to ballet, then this was the performance of a lifetime. It was art in the form of death, and for the first time in my life, I understood why the samurai composed poetry even as they slaughtered their foes.

  There was a beauty in so much death, in such a landscape of pain. It was like a work of art, and we, Ash, Camille, and myself were holding the brush.

  Was it possible to reach a state of transcendence while swinging an oversized sword?

  I didn’t know, but at that moment, facing insurmountable odds, I felt like it could be. As if I was touching divinity even as my blade sheared through an enemy’s skull to bury itself in the chest of another.

  It was like I had discovered my purpose, and my purpose was death.

  I couldn’t help it. As I stepped through the carnage with grace, poise, and indescribable violence, a feral grin twisted my face. I faced down my enemies like a demon incarnate, spilling blood with every step, my blade as sharp as Death’s scythe and ten times as hungry to drink the blood of those I faced.

  But I wasn’t the only player in this game, and the numbers were still stacked against us. The revenant horde seemed to go on forever, as if the wraith was conjuring more from the sand even as we dealt with those that came up against us.

  And while I seemed to draw energy and power from every kill I made, my companions had limits.

  Ash was impossibly strong and surprisingly quick, but some of these sand walkers were quicker. Some of them got through her guard to snip at her legs or pass through to Camille. And while her invisibility gave her an advantage, Camille was not in the same league.

  There was only so much she could do, and she had to face her enemies one at a time.

  As the battle progressed, I could see the end coming clear. Ash or Camille would be the first to go, and that would be it. I couldn’t cover enough ground to protect Gamma and the wagons all by myself. At some point, I would have to deal with an immediate threat, and this would give others all the chance that they needed.

  So as well as maintaining my dance and swinging my blade in circles of death, I kept watch on everything else that was happening. Where necessary, I unleashed my power again, sending bolts of chi lightning into those enemies who needed it most.

  Time and again, my efforts protected Ash, Camille, Gamma, and even the cow-beasts from attack. The cow-beasts remained remarkably placid throughout, displaying no more anxiety than at any other time, merely shifting from foot to foot and uttering a grunt if a revenant got too close.
/>   Only Edda showed any real anxiety whenever a sand walker came close. She would shriek and duck down between the cow-beasts, only to emerge again once the danger was gone and hurl more abuse at the attackers.

  Again and again, I used my power, aware that it was a long way from infinite. At some point, either I would use too much and collapse as I’d done with the bandits, or I would have to watch as one or other of my companions was overwhelmed.

  It was a war of attrition, with the wraith sending more and more enemies against us, and me and Ash stopping them dead.

  Who would eventually win depended on who could outlast the other, and I was determined it wouldn’t be me. I adjusted my steps to account for the buildup of corpses, and kept going.

  At one point, I saw Lady Gamma make her way from her wagon (this time forgoing her need to ask me for aid) and head toward the supply wagon. I had no clue what she was going to do, but kept a half an eye on her as I did everything else.

  She emerged with another flask of liquid, this one a tad larger than the one she’d used to treat Ash’s wounds, then walked with apparent lack of concern past the invisible shape of Camille battling two foes at once, until she stood between Ash and myself.

  “Stay back!” I yelled at her. “We can’t protect you if you put yourself in danger!”

  But the painted princess ignored me completely. Instead, she stared out into the desert as if she could defeat the attacking sand walkers by willpower alone.

  “I have had enough!” she bellowed at one and all. “This night is done!” With that, she hurled the flask into the night with surprising strength, closing her eyes as she did and muttering quietly to herself, words I couldn’t hear.

  I had no idea what she was doing and had to use a quick sequence of steps to insert myself between her and a particularly ferocious-looking attacker. I lopped off its head so it crashed on top of one of its brethren, and had just turned to face two of its brothers when the flask Lady Gamma had thrown exploded on the ground.

 

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