Jack Jackson vs The Midnight Army
Page 6
Jack nodded and yawned loudly, he was exhausted.
"You will sleep well tonight, Jack, and tomorrow, after school you will return and continue your training," said Penny.
Jack's father was pacing around the ginormous living room when the doorbell chimed. He opened the door and sighed with relief to see Jack accompanied by Penny.
"I have been worried sick, Jack! Where on earth have you been?" said his dad with a combination of anger and excitement. He reached forward and scooped up Jack into his arms squeezing Jack a little too tight, forcing the wind right out of him.
"Mr Jackson, I am so sorry that Jack is late home," began Penny. "His bus broke down outside my house you see and we had to wait for my neighbour to return so I could bring him back. I have fed him, but he is very tired. He is a charming young man and has been lovely company. I have invited him for tea after school tomorrow as well - if that is OK with you? Mr Stevens will happily drop him home again if you agree."
"Yes, that would be fine and thank you so much for looking after him I have been worried sick. I'm sorry I don't know your name," said Mr Jackson.
"It's Penny," said Penny. "You do know me, Mr Jackson, or rather, you did. You used to play in my garden when you were a little boy."
"Oh my goodness, of course! How silly of me, but? but? you can talk!" said Mr Jackson.
"Yes, I seem to have found my voice and it has been nice speaking with you and Jack, but I'm afraid that I really must go. Mr Stevens is waiting to take me home. Goodbye, Jack, I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow," said Penny.
Jack and his dad bid their farewells and waved as Penny got back into Mr Stevens' car and drove off. A quick bath, a spot of supper and Jack was tucked up warmly in bed. He placed the stone on the bedside table, placed his head on the pillow and instantly fell into a deep and relaxing sleep.
Jack was jolted awake from a dream about flying with Bafflebod by an almighty crash. He leaped out of bed and sprinted downstairs as fast as his sockless feet would carry him, to where he was certain that the sound had come from. He reached the door to the kitchen with four fresh new splinters in his feet and a stubbed little toe, but these were the last things on his mind. What was on his mind was - where had the kitchen had gone? Instead of a kitchen, the door now led into a big square hole filled with rubble and badly damaged electrical appliances.
"Dad?!" shouted Jack desperately. "Are you down there? Are you OK?"
"Ummm, I think so," came the rather hesitant reply from his dad. "I am a little bit buried and I think I may have broken my leg. Probably a good idea to call the fire brigade and ambulance, Junior, there's a good lad."
"OK, be back in a mo," Jack replied. Jack rushed off and dialled 999 as quickly as he could. He explained the situation to the man on the other end of the line while painfully attempting to pick out the splinters he acquired moments before. Once he was assured that help was on its way he returned to the place where his kitchen once stood.
"Dad? Are you OK? I have called them; they are on their way," said Jack.
"Good job, Junior! I think I may have broken my arm too you know, it's very painful," replied his dad.
"What happened?" asked Jack.
"I'm not too sure to be honest with you," came the mumbled reply from beneath the rubble. "I was fixing myself a bowl of cornflakes and then I just, sort of ended up here. I am beginning to think that the rotten beam that I removed yesterday was probably quite important."
"I would probably agree, Dad; you really are silly at times. I really think that we should give up on this old house and move somewhere safer. It's just a matter of time before it all falls down if you ask me," said Jack.
"Nonsense," replied his dad. "This house has been in the family for generations. It's nothing I cannot handle and besides I will be up and about in no time."
"But you spend more time fixing this house than you do playing with me, I hate it," said Jack with tears welling up in his eyes.
No sound came back from under the rubble, Jack's words hit Mr Jackson hard, harder than the fall from the kitchen into the basement. He hadn't realised that he had been neglecting his son and he felt awful. So awful that he didn't know what to say.
The awkward silence was broken by a loud knock on the front door, followed by a crash. Jack went to investigate and discovered the fire brigade and ambulance had arrived and that the front door was laying flat on the dusty floor.
"I barely touched it," said a rather shocked looking fireman.
"Don't worry, it's always doing that," replied a slightly embarrassed Jack.
Ten minutes later and Jack was with his dad in the back of the ambulance whizzing off to hospital. While the emergency services worked to free his father, Jack managed to get himself dressed, pack a small rucksack with some clothes and popped the stone into his pocket.
At the hospital the doctor confirmed that Mr Jackson had indeed broken his arm and leg. The leg break was particularly nasty and the doctor insisted that he should stay in hospital overnight so they could keep an eye on him.
"I have packed some overnight things and thought I could ask Penny if she wouldn't mind me staying there. I am supposed to be going there for dinner anyway," said Jack.
"I think I would prefer you stay with someone in the village, Junior, but if you are sure then I suppose I'm OK with it, she is 111 after all," replied Jack's dad.
"112, Dad and yes I am sure," said Jack.
Jack sat at his dad's bedside all day. His dad told him silly story after silly story and bad joke after bad joke. Despite his injuries, Jack's dad was in surprisingly good form.
"You had better go, Jack, it's nearly teatime and you must surely be hungry," said Mr Jackson.
"I suppose," shrugged Jack.
Jack put his coat on, hugged his dad and turned to go.
"I am sorry, Jack. I am sorry I have been a terrible dad. I am sorry that I have spent more time painting than playing with you. It will change you know, maybe we should move, Jack. Perhaps we should find a flat nearer your school and maybe I should even get a job. Perhaps it's time I grew up, Junior," said Mr Jackson with a smile. Jack ran back and hugged his dad.
"Thanks, Fad, I will see you tomorrow." With that Jack left to catch the bus to Penny Downhill.
"Why hello Jack," said Penny as he walked up the path towards her house.
Jack told Penny all about his dad and the kitchen and asked whether it would be OK to stay the night.
"I'm so sorry to hear about your dad, but it sounds to me as if he is going to be just fine, he is in good hands. Now you have eaten, don't you think you had better catch up with the Zephods and continue with your training?" said Penny.
"I guess. Are you coming too?" asked Jack.
"Not any more, Jack, you are the carrier now. Remember to head for the cliff pass when you arrive."
Penny prepared some food and reminded Jack of the symbols he would need to leap to Waking Veil, how to run faster and jump.
Penny led Jack into the garden, kissed him on the cheek and said, "Good luck, Jack, see you in a little while."
Jack pulled the stone from his pocket, drew a symbol on its surface, took a deep breath and jumped.
Jack touched down at Waking Veil. It was pitch black and raining ash heavily from the invisible sky above. Something was wrong. Something was seriously wrong.
Alone in a Hole
Jack's first instinct was to jump straight back to Penny's garden, but something deep in his stomach that he could not explain stopped him. Something was wrong and he wanted to find out what. He felt deep within his bones that he had some part to play here. He felt as though he could help in some way.
He began walking in the direction of where he guessed the cliffs would be with just the dull light from his digital watch as a break from the pitch black which engulfed him. After twenty minutes of walking he realised that he was correct but the cliffs were no longer there. The dark clouds overhead broke for a moment and the bright low moon illum
inated the scene. Thick dark ash rained down heavy on an area strewn with rubble as far as the eye could see. Where the cliffs had been there was now a hill of rubble which stretched as far left and right as Jack could see. The gap in the clouds closed and blackness engulfed him once more.
Jack began to make his way up the seemingly endless hill of freshly created rubble, the hill eventually flattened out and soon the hard unforgiving texture of rock underfoot was replaced by the soft tread of lush grass. Jack fell.
Jack pressed the light button on his watch to see what object had tripped him and sent him tumbling to the floor. Jack jumped back and adrenaline flooded through his every blood vessel as the light from his watch fell upon the face of a dead Zephod warrior. The clouds above broke again and once more the bright, full moon illuminated the landscape for miles around.
The sight was horrifying. The lush green plains which once lay above the cliffs were now muddied, scorched and littered with dead. The wind changed direction and the smell hit Jack hard, burning deep inside his nostrils. The smell of death, a smell which he had never before chanced upon but instantly recognised.
Jack gathered himself up and continued to walk, stepping over bodies and arcing around pools of stagnating blood as he went. All Zephods, all dead. Brachanids do not take prisoners, they only take slaves. Those who fall injured in battle against the Brachanids are always dispatched onwards, without mercy and without exception. Those who are not killed and surrender with minimal injury are taken to spend the rest of their days either carrying out back breaking work or fighting for Brachanid amusement in the pits.
On Jack walked, until he arrived at the once strong wooden doorway that protected the Zephod community, it now lay twisted and hanging from its frame.
Jack walked into the tunnel, more Zephods lay littered throughout the tunnels which were dimly lit by the last embers of torches which spluttered on the walls throwing ever changing and terrifying shadows on the scratched, damp walls. Jack wanted to run, he wanted to just go home, but something deep within him drove him on further into the tunnel. 'Surely there is someone left alive.' he thought to himself. Moments later Jack arrived at Bafflebod's door, it too was broken and hanging open. Jack walked in.
"Bafflebod?" called out Jack quietly. No response came except that of the whistle of the wind through the lifeless tunnel. Jack walked further into his new friend's home, the place had been turned upside down.
"Bafflebod?" called Jack again, this time slightly louder as tears began to well in his eyes. 'What has happened here, is everyone really dead? Should I return and get Penny, I am not ready for this.' Thought Jack. Jack opened the door to Bafflebod's room.
"Is anyone here?" called out Jack as he entered.
"Jack, is that really you?" came a very quiet and shaky reply.
"Bafflebod?" asked Jack, with his eyes desperately scanning the room for the source of his friend's voice.
"Yes," Bafflebod replied, crawling out from a hole he had cleverly dug and covered with a mat underneath his bed.
Bafflebod stood and the pair of new friends embraced and cried.
"What has happened here?" asked Jack as Bafflebod stood and began dusting himself down.
"They came, Jack, they came and they caught us by surprise. Yesterday morning, we were all busy packing our belongings ready to travel to our new tunnel when it happened," said Bafflebod.
"When what happened?" asked Jack impatiently.
"A huge explosion, it shook the world and then turned out the sun. The cliffs were blown up into the air and the skies filled with black dust and rock which fell back as ash. We tried to leave but we were cut off, they had surrounded us, tens of thousands of Brachanids. But they did not attack us, they just waited, and we waited too, waited for the end. The attack came as night fell and turned the land blacker still. The attack was fast and brutal, they killed hundreds of us and took many more as slaves. The battle, if you could call it a battle, was over in a matter of minutes. They were too strong, they were too many and the stone had such little power in it to help us in the black the Brachanids had brought upon us," continued Bafflebod.
"What happened to your father? What about Dev?" asked Jack.
"They were captured; they are now slaves, or worse," replied Bafflebod, tears began to run down his gaunt cheeks and dripped on to the dusty floor.
"Then we must free them," said Jack with a confident and determined look in his eyes.
The pair of them embraced and cried together.
The Dark Tower
Siinjid stood on the balcony of his chamber high up in the Dark Tower, hundreds of thousands of Brachanids carpeted the floor below eager to hear the leader of the Midnight Army's address, the thick dark ash from the Brachanid's new weapon poured down upon them.
"My dear fellow Brachanids, our glorious Midnight Army was once again victorious on this night." A huge cheers rang out and the Dark Tower vibrated as the jubilant crowd stamped their feet and clapped their four hands together in rhythmic celebration. Siinjid continued, "We located a Zephod nest, a Zephod nest which contained the leader of the filth, Dev Pron." The crowd hissed in unison. "As you know, the weaklings had the Great Stone of Haffin Thorpe, so we used our new mighty weapon and turned out the sun. Defenceless, we ran them down, killing without mercy and taking the remaining strong as slaves to serve or entertain us until death. Including Dev himself!" A huge cheer rang out.
"And my friends and fellow warriors, we have a trophy. The Great Stone!" shouted Siinjid and he held the stone up high into the air to the rapturous delight of the crowd.
"Crake Zee gave his life to ensure the victory, tonight we remember him in our hearts and our songs. Crake Zee gave his life to ensure that we were able to seize this great stone! With the power of this stone on our side we are unstoppable, we will sweep all that oppose us away like dust from our boots. We will seek fair lands and we shall take them. Never again will our people want for anything, never will our people be cast aside as slaves! Never again!" Siinjid again held up the stone to the delight of the crowd, then turned and re-entered the Dark Tower.
The Brachanid capital Vassash was a dark and loveless place with the Dark Tower rising proudly at its very centre. Brachanids lived in long hills arranged in rows much like lines on a page. Brachanid families were only allowed to bear one child due to the shortage of food and water within the world. Those females found to be pregnant with a second were cast into the pits to fight until death.
The fight pits were everywhere around the city and formed the main source of entertainment and punishment. Slaves who were chosen to fight were held in the pit holdings and treated well. They were provided with good food and drink and allowed time to train on their fighting skills. Every night, each pit would stage two fights. Always two fights and always to the death. The winner would rise from the pits as a hero, while the loser would be fed to the ravenous packs of waiting Cara caras.
The victor would be returned to the pit holdings and allowed to recover for a few days before being forced to fight again, and again. Life was hard as a pit fighter but some would argue that it was preferable to being a slave in the work pens, at least you had some control over your destiny.
Dev Pron sat alone in his cell in the pit holding. Dev did not give up the stone without a fight and had the injuries to prove it. The Brachanid medics had done well to piece him back together after the battle, Siinjid had no intention of allowing his greatest ever prisoner to just perish or be worked to death with the other common slaves. As soon as Dev was rested he would be made to fight, to entertain and eventually to die under the merciless glare of the Brachanids.
Dev sat and meditated in his underground cell, he wiped his mind of all things. No pain, no past and most of all no hope. He sat perfectly still, his breathing and heart rate reduced to an absolute minimum and he waited.
Jack and Bafflebod had managed to pack together the essentials they would need for their journey. They had gathered a good supply of roots and
water together with a sword and bow each. Arrows were a little harder to come by, but they managed to find fifteen which had been fired and missed their targets around the battlefield.
"We must travel to Vassash, which is where I am certain that my people will be imprisoned. The mission is most likely hopeless, but I am willing to die trying. I would rather die than spend the rest of my life hiding in a hole under my bed like a scared animal," said Bafflebod.
"I have held a sword once, I have shot a bow a few times and I wasn't much good with either. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't scared. More scared than I think anyone has ever been, but I am with you, if I can be of any help at all, I swear I will," replied Jack.
"Are you sure, Jack? It would take a mighty army to overcome them in their capital and we are just two. Why don't you just go back home? You have a father and a home, it doesn't seem right to risk all of that for me, for us," said Bafflebod.
"We are not an army and we do not pretend to be an army. We are the unseen thieves. We will steal back what they have stolen. I will not leap back, I am here for a reason, I know it. The stone is in the dark and its powers will soon fade, but not just yet. I do not know how to use it very well, but if Dev is still alive and if we can somehow free him, he may and what power remains in it could be put to some good use. I am scared, but I will do what I can to help," said Jack.
"OK, if you are sure. I roughly know where Vassash is, it will take us a few days of walking to get there and the journey could be dangerous, especially in this endless dark," said Bafflebod.
The pair of them embraced again, as if sharing each other's strength, gathered up their things and set off in the direction of Vassash.
Days of Ash and Gloom
The two new friends stumbled down the pile of rubble where once the cliffs stood proud and began walking silently across the Waking Veil. The darkness was oppressive and the thick ash that relentlessly fell from the unseen sky above caught in their mouths and noses.