EARTH'S LAST WAR (CHILDREN OF DESTINY Book 1)

by Glenn Van Dyke

  Novacek was a flurry of emotions and movement. He was waiting for the pain from the acid, searching frantically for other spiders that might be about to bite. Least of all, did he know that he was running until one of the men in front of him collapsed and he was sent tumbling to the ground, having tripped over the man’s thrashing body.

  Breaking clear of the forest, Novacek ripped off his shirt and found at least four more clinging to the back of it. A quick wide blast from his hand laser, and the spiders and shirt burst into flames.

  When a winded Jenkins came running up to him from out of the darkness, Novacek damn near fired on the kid.

  The retrieval team, waiting for Novacek’s return, having heard the screams, came running to their aid. By the time they arrived, there was nothing that could be done.

  Of the team of five that ventured into the forest, only Novacek and Jenkins had survived. Two, Novacek had seen die. The fifth man he had never seen fall but without a doubt he knew that he was dead.

  Novacek thought it likely the spiders were nocturnal, so he decided to make the team wait until an hour after daybreak before again entering the forest.

  ***

  At first glance, Novacek’s bare-chested appearance seemed almost comical. Only the intensely sad and worn look on his face said differently. As Steven neared Novacek, he saw that Novacek was wearing a woman’s white gold, solitaire diamond ring on a necklace about his neck. The fact that he had been married was something Steven had never known.

  “The watches reported seeing explosions. What happened?”

  Novacek began to relate the story of the spiders’ attack and then lastly, the ambush.

  “Stratton, have we heard from our lookouts recently?”

  Stratton was in his own discussion with the members of the returning team when Steven made the inquiry of him. “Yes sir, I made the rounds with them just a few minutes ago.”

  “Okay. Stratt, send runners to tell the teams not to go into the forest. And Stratt, get a team to prep four of the rafts, full provisions, ASAP.”

  “Aye, sir. Will do.”

  Steven, thinking aloud, using Novacek as a sounding board, “The spiders are nocturnal, they like darkness, like those on Earth. They stay in the forest but don’t come up into the rocks. It’s a hatchery. That’s why the Nephilim stay away from here. We walked right into their nest.” Steven shuddered. “I sensed death down there. I didn’t pay attention to my instincts.”

  “It’s not your fault, sir. No one knew.” Novacek’s eyes glazed over in remembrance of what he’d seen. “They’re weaker than the adults on Earth. When it bit Private Withers, he didn’t get the Rage—instead, the venom attacked his lungs. I saw pink foam spewing from his mouth. There is also a difference in that while the adults can excrete fluids that will burn through solid steel—the hatchling’s body fluid only burned a hole through my clothing, with no effect on my skin. I know—I squashed one on my neck.

  Your advice to observe the pods before approaching was rather amazing. Without it, a lot of us might have been killed.

  Overall, we accomplished what we set out to do. We recovered 94 rafts and a few of the enemies weapons.”

  Listening to Novacek, Steven began to question why, after all the years they had worked together, they had never become good friends? He was seeing a new side to Novacek, a human side. “Novacek, I wanted to say that I’m sorry we haven’t gotten to know each other better before now. You’re a good man. I’m honored to know you—you deserved more from me. I’m sorry.” Steven put his hand out.

  “As am I.” They shook hands. Novacek continued, “It’s funny, but I was thinking much the same thing while walking in the desert last night.”

  Both men smiled. Steven jumped the conversation ahead. “I should tell you that I’ve sent a transponder down the river. It’s been transmitting for almost five hours now.”

  “I knew that was coming, sir.”

  “Am I that easy to read?” said Steven not waiting for an answer, “I’ve decided to take a team of twenty down the river and see where the trail on the map leads.

  If the map is accurate, we’ll eventually be forced to leave the river and trek on foot. When we reach that moment, I’ll send a series of three separated pings, at precisely five-minute intervals. If the signal stops or you don’t receive those three pings then it means we’ve run into trouble and that the river route is too dangerous to take.

  I expect to return within six weeks, but if we don’t, then you’ll have to make some choices. Whatever happens, try to find Enlil, take him down.”

  “May I ask, what’s your objective? What are you looking for?” asked Novacek.

  “There’s a new symbol on the map that I uncovered. I want to check it out. Something tells me, that I need to see it.”

  “A new symbol?” asked Novacek.

  “I’m reluctant to say what it is; my guess might taint your judgment. You should look at it; see what conclusion you come up with.” Through a heavy sigh, “I have a big favor to ask you?” said Steven.

  “Phillip?” said Novacek anticipating the question. “It would be my pleasure. So I assume Ashlyn is going with you then?”

  “Yes. I can’t in good conscience take Phillip down that hole based on a hunch. It’s too risky.”

  “Agreed. I’ll teach him how to catch a fish. He’ll be fine.

  I’d always wanted to have children,” said Novacek softly, reminiscently. “It’ll be fun to borrow Phillip for a few weeks.”

  “Gordon, the ring on your necklace? You were married?”

  “A long time ago,” Novacek said in a tone that betrayed a great depth of sadness.

  “Can I ask what happened?” said Steven daring to intrude on his privacy.

  “Her name was Jennifer. She was so vibrant—she loved music, sunshine.” His mind could be seen drifting to a far off place. “She was murdered by a gang in Britain three days after we were married. They made me watch what they did to her. I couldn’t do anything.” His inward struggle to banish the images from his mind was clearly evident as his hand made a tight fist around the ring. “This is all that I have left of her.”

  “I’m sorry, Gordon. I didn’t know.” Everyone has their burdens to carry; some are just heavier than others.

  “How long before you go?” said Novacek, letting Steven off the hook.

  “As soon as Stratt has the rafts ready—and I talk to Phillip.”

  Walking together, they found Phillip playing poker with a few of the crew. “Don’t let him steal your shirt, guys,” Steven quipped to the officers who were obviously perturbed at their string of losses to an eight-year-old.

  “Hey! Don’t listen to him, Phillip. Go ahead and win a shirt for me,” said a chuckling, bare-chested Novacek.

  When Phillip’s winning hand was over. “Son, I need to speak with you.” Poker faces notwithstanding, the men all beamed at Phillip’s departure.

  Sitting side-by-side, “I’m going to be leaving for a while, Son.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Down river. I’m going to try and get us some help.”

  “Can I go with you?”

  “Not this time, buddy. I need to travel fast. I want you to wait here.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “I really don’t know. It’s a long way. It could be a few weeks. Gordon is going to watch you while I’m away. I want you to promise me that you’ll do whatever Gordon tells you, all right?”

  Phillip nodded, closing the deal with a tight hug and a kiss.

  ***

  With the rafts about to depart, Ashlyn walked up and threw her bag of gear into Steven’s raft. Dressed in her black, one-piece stretch, sheathed knives adorning her black, lace-up armguards—she fought the chill in the air by donning a tight, black, leather midi jacket.

  “Ash, the knives? You’re trained to use them in combat?”

  “What do you think I was doing all those years at the Foundation? We went through a wid
e array of rigorous training programs. That’s why the training for the Sharkfin came so easy. Not a lot different from what I’d learned.”

  “That explains a whole lot,” said Steven. I should have realized.

  As the goodbyes began, “Phillip, can you take care of my balalaika while I’m gone?

  A close friend gave it to me, and I don’t trust anyone but you to watch it. I talked to Hitch and she said that if you want to learn how to play, she’ll teach you. Would you like to do that?”

  “Yeah! I would.”

  “Phillip, I love you!” Wrapping her arms around him, she gave him a kiss on the cheek. He returned the hug along with a few tears.

  “Al-l-l-a-a-aboard. Last call, the RMS Titanic is ready for departure,” ribbed Reeves.

  After saying his own last goodbye to Phillip, Steven climbed into the raft, taking up an oar.

  “Hooyah!” said Ashlyn as she climbed in, taking a seat near Steven.

  “Hooyah!” shouted Avenger’s crew in enthusiastic response.

  “Brummon, we’ll start with your raft on point. Keep your bow flood on, and warn us of any dangers. We’ll rotate lead every four hours.

  Tomlinson, Reeves, keep the floods pointed at the ceiling. The ambient light will illuminate the tunnel for us,” said Steven.

  “These oars are for the pits. It’s like they were made for Oompa Loompa’s or something,” grumbled the sandy-haired Brummon.

  With the rafts loaded, they shoved off. The entire crew had gathered to say goodbye. Novacek stood with his hand atop Phillip’s shoulder, waving until the rafts disappeared from sight.

  “He’s a good kid,” said Ashlyn.

  “And he really loves you, Ash”

  “And I love him.”

  Not a hundred meters down the tunnel, Steven realized with a start that Novacek had told the story about the desert trek and his wife without stuttering.

  ***

  Hours later they reached the first fork in the river, a fork to the right that Steven knew from the map to be a dead-end. It was the first marker on the map by which to chart their progress. He also saw that if it was to scale, they still had a very, long way to travel yet.

  Over the next days, the jokes having all been told, the life’s stories having all been exchanged, the subject of religion exhausted and the glorious highlights of sporting events relived, the team grew sullen. Minutes seemed like hours and hours seemed like days. Sleeping became a way to pass the time as did waking become the harbinger of despair. The hopeful illusion of walking in the sunshine evaporating upon awakening.

  Every noise echoed endlessly, abrasively. Any conversation above that of a whisper became an annoying public discourse. Even the water lapping against the raft was like the constant ticking of a clock.

  The occasional side-trip to use the bathroom became a cause for celebration and the chance to rid some energy.

  Ashlyn had taken to teaching Tai at each stop, explaining that the meditative techniques helped to free the mind and body of anxiety.

  On the twelfth day of their journey, the rafts strung out over a distance of seventy-five meters, Steven’s raft was third in the line out of four, when they heard a shout of warning from the lead raft. The tranquil ride of the trek began to change. The tunnel narrowed. The water began moving faster, becoming choppier. Steven yelled for everyone to clip their flashlights to their belts even as the raft sped down the narrowing chute.

  Suddenly the raft was pitched high into the air. It landed hard, and then bounded off the wall, spinning them round. The churning rapids were tossing them violently, throwing them into the walls and vaulting them into the air.

  In near total darkness, over the din of crashing waves, Steven and his crew heard faint screams from the team aboard the first raft as they went over a waterfall—and only a brief moment later, the shouts from the second raft.

  Steven’s raft jolted as it came to the edge, “Jump out as far as you can!” screamed Steven, going on intuition. As the raft lurched away from beneath them, Ashlyn’s grasp upon Steven’s arm tore away.

  There was no sense of up or down, only tumbling through the air.

  Pitched into the water, his feet settling upon the soft, sandy bottom, he felt a twinge of pain. He rose into a world of near total darkness. Spinning round, he frantically shouted Ashlyn’s name. He could sense her anxiety, her helplessness. A roving flashlight twinkled brightly as it scanned past him and then back again, stopping on him. So intent was his focus that he barely registered the sound of someone plodding through the water, of people talking to him as they pulled him to shore.

  Around him, screaming shouts tried to warn the last raft that was at the precipice. “Jump, jump out as far as you can!”

  The crew on the beach had two flashlights illuminating the rocks at the base of the falls. Steven gasped as he saw two crumpled, broken bodies, one with his skull split in two, the other with his arm severed—neither of them more than a twisted husk. As Steven was looking at those who were dead on the rock, a third crewman landed squarely between them. His rib bones splintered, thrust upwards they exploded in a bloody pulp through his shirt. His last scream echoed long after his final breath.

  “Admiral, you’ve got to sit down!”

  “Ashlyn!” Steven screamed her name out as he scanned the shadows, hoping that she was one of those safely ashore. “Has anyone seen Ashlyn?”

  “No, sir. We haven’t found her yet.”

  “Another raft! Grab it!” someone yelled.

  A dark, shadowy figure came crawling up out of the water, dragging the dead body of yet another crewman behind. Steven felt ashamed, but relieved to see that it wasn’t Ashlyn.

  “Ash!” Steven shouted into the darkness, a surge of rising panic tightening his chest.

  There was no answer.

  “Ash! Ash! Where are you?” shouted Steven frantically as he walked back into the river. Swiping away the heavy mist from the falls that was clouding his eyes, “Ashlyn, answer me!” said Steven, trying to contact her within his mind.

  From somewhere under the drone of the crashing falls came a very faint, “Over here.”

  “Ash, where are you?” Steven shone his light to the left away from the falls. On the far side of the river, half‑in and half‑out of the water was Ashlyn. She was fighting hard against the current to cling to a small rock that was only inches above the surface. To her left, not four meters away was the dark hole through which the river exited. “I’m coming, hold on!”

  “We’ll get her with a tethered raft, Admiral. A swimmer can’t fight against that current. Maria, see to the Admiral’s wounds,” said Tomlinson.

  “Ashlyn, hold on. The raft is-” A chill raced through Steven, leaving him lightheaded.

  “Stand still, sir. You have a bad gash on your head. I’ve got to stop the bleeding,” said Maria.

  The cavern grew dark.

  Chapter 14

  “Steven, come‑on. You have to sip this. It’s warm,” encouraged Ashlyn.

  “What happ-” Steven stopped mid-sentence, his head throbbing with pain.

  Ashlyn saw him wince. “Take it slow, you aren’t well yet. Do you remember the waterfall?”

  He fought to remember. “Yes—we went over. The rocks? How many people?”

  “Not now, you need to rest.”

  “Ashlyn, please. How many?” Steven then closed his eyes and fell asleep.

  Four more days passed before Steven awakened to the sound of a crackling fire and the warmth of a thermal heat blanket.

  Hearing the whispering voices of his team that were standing in a circle about twenty meters away, he saw their heads bowed while someone recited a prayer. Between their legs, illuminated by their flashlights, he could see the outlines of stacked rocks, forming several graves. When the group finished, they quietly turned round and headed back to camp.

  “Steven!” shouted Ashlyn, running to him, “You’re awake!” Ashlyn gave him a hug that nearly strangled him.

&
nbsp; “Water?” said Steven, his throat parched.

  “Of course,” said Ash as she put the canteen to his lips. “Slowly, not too much or you won’t keep it down.”

  “It’s good to have you back, Admiral,” said Tomlinson. In unison, the rest of the crew voiced their agreement.

  Ash lowered the canteen.

  “Sir, there’s more paintings on the wall here that you’ll want to see.”

  “It’ll wait, Tomlinson,” said Ashlyn. “Give him time to get oriented.”

  “Sorry, sir.”

  “Who?” said Steven staring at the grave.

  “Reeves. He died yesterday, but we hadn’t said any words for him yet. He’d joked about the Titanic. I guess he was right.”

  “How many died?”

  Ashlyn studied his eyes before answering. “We lost seven to the falls—three others are missing, carried downstream.

  Brummon has a concussion; he hasn’t awakened yet.”

  Ash removed the bandage from Steven’s head and checked the wound for signs of infection.

  “The rafts? Did we save the rafts?”

  “We saved two of them. The others were shred beyond repair.

  Is that too tight?” asked Ashlyn as she reapplied the bandage.

  “It’s fine. What’s making the fire?”

  “Tomlinson found that the moss on the cavern walls burns just like wood. He’s been really resourceful, and we were pretty desperate. Everyone was fighting hypothermia until he got the fire going. Without it, none of us would have made it.”

  “How long have we been here?”

  “Over a week, but don’t worry about that right now. You need to eat, a little anyway. You need to rebuild your strength. I’ve got some cooked fish ready for you.”