by C. E. Martin
So now that he had its attention, it was time for the second part of the Colonel's plan. It was time to run.
***
Zaman shook with anger as the Djinn recoiled from the stone man- who then leapt to his feet, far more nimble than a living statue should be able to do and sprinted away.
"After him!" Zaman breathed into the ring held to his lips.
The Djinn complied, and swirled off after the stone man, once more resuming his swirling, dust devil-like column of moving flames.
The chase tore through the remainder of the village- the stone man moving with inhuman speed and agility. He leapt onto roof tops, crashed through walls, and ducked around corners. Using the ground for purchase, the stone man was able to take sharper turns than the swirling Djinn, able to accelerate to speed faster with his solid body.
Zaman watched the chase for several moments through his binoculars- nervously awaiting the stone man's end. Then he smelled something.
Vegetable soup.
The Americans had been giving out canned soup for some time. One even explained to Zaman why- they received it in care packages from Americans back home. And the last thing the generous soldiers wanted in the hot desert was a hot bowl of soup.
Serving as an insurgent didn't offer Zaman a salary. He had to fend for himself. Which meant accepting food from the very infidels he had sworn to kill. Zaman had eagerly taken their soup and eaten it. He had enjoyed many of the canned soups the Imperialists offered him.
Except vegetable soup. It was a horrible, foul broth of brown that made him want to wretch when he smelled it. And now he smelled it quite strongly.
"Shh, Aladdin!" A stern voice whispered in his ear as one strong hand clamped down over his mouth and another gripped the back of his neck like a vice.
Zaman's eyes grew wide with fear and he dropped his binoculars. He also threw up a little in his mouth from the horrible vegetable soup smell now permeating his nostrils.
Zaman felt himself spun around quickly, the hands on his neck shifting so one clamped over his throat and the other grabbed his ring hand. Zaman's eyes went wide with fear- it was the invisible man, the giant the Djinn could not see.
The soldier's shirt and vest were gone- replaced by a vile smear of paste that Zaman immediately recognized as soup. It looked like what was left in the bottom of a pot that had been over the fire too long and all the water had evaporated.
"Let me see that!" Colonel Kenslir said, lifting Zaman's hand, and his large gold ring up. He was crushing the insurgent's hand now- applying just enough force that the bones didn't break- but were ready to.
Zaman would have collapsed to the ground, but the strong hand on his neck was holding him up.
Kenslir examined the ring- paying particular attention to the six-pointed star emblazoned on it. Ancient characters encircled the ring. "Where'd you get this?"
Zaman shrugged, while trying to work up enough saliva to spit in the American's face.
Kenslir pushed his oversized goggles up on his forehead, then leaned in closer and looked Zaman square in the eye. He compressed the hand the ring was on, splintering all the bones. "Where'd you get this?"
Zaman couldn't help himself- he couldn't scream, but he was able to urinate down the legs of his camouflage pants. He also pictured in his mind the museum in Germany he'd stolen the ring from. A museum he'd worked in as a janitor while in the country on a student visa.
"Museum, eh?" Kenslir said.
Zaman's last thought was one of puzzlement- how did the American know what he was thinking. He didn't get time to consider this long- maybe only a half-second, as Kenslir squeezed his neck, crushing the spine into fragments and killing Zaman instantly.
The Colonel pulled the ring off of Zaman's corpse- noticing two things immediately.
First, the ring glowed a very bright green when he touched it- nearly as bright as the sun in fact. Secondly, the Djinn was screaming- loudly. Not a scream of pain or rage. A scream of absolute horror. A death scream.
Kenslir turned and looked down into the village. He didn't need binoculars- his vision was the better than any human's could ever be. The Djinn was writhing now- its fire leaping out at odd angles as though it were about to lose control and explode.
The creature was bound to the ring.
Despite its ear shattering screeches, the Djinn began moving away from the Village, up the hill, toward Kenslir.
"Crap!"
The billowing, sparking mass of flames was losing cohesion as it swept up the slope. Bits of fire shot out of it- jets of flame that splattered against the ground then vanished. The Djinn was within twenty feet of Kenslir when it finally exploded in a final flash of green and orange flame.
The ring in Kenslir's hand dimmed considerably- now only giving off a faint green glow. He reached down and tore a patch of fabric from the dead insurgent's shirt and wrapped the ring in it, breaking contact with the glowing talisman.
The Colonel walked down to the compound, his TTV still up on his forehead. Smith finally walked over, a dirty old blanket wrapped around his waist.
"We get him?"
"I think so," Kenslir said, pitching the wrapped up ring to Smith.
"What's this?" Smith asked, unwrapping the ring. He was taken aback by the six-pointed star- that resembled the Star of David.
"It's a very interesting forgery," the Colonel said.
"Forgery? Forgery of what?"
"The Ring of Solomon."
Smith shrugged- he was sure he'd learn all about whatever the Colonel was talking about when they got back to the States. "So, now what?"
Kenslir pulled his visor back down over his eyes. "Looks like the procedure was a success. It's time we started recruiting."
"Recruiting?"
"For more of you- after we hitch a ride back to Miami."
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The Stone Soldiers will return in City of Bones!
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