5 Onslaught

by Jeremy Robinson

  Do you like me? □ Yes. □ No.

  Or maybe just sit next to me and put your foot against mine. Grin.

  Mira.

  I smile, feeling slightly embarrassed, but also safe. This is the history that binds us, and there is no reason to hide from it. “The first.”

  “I knew you would.” Mira smiles. “Looks like we get to be something more, after all.”

  With a gentle laugh, I pull Mira’s head against mine. “Sister.”

  “Brother,” she replied.

  Then I feel an arm wrap around me. It’s Em. She puts her head against mine and Mira’s. Kainda and Kat join in next until all of our heads are touching. It feels like the ultimate cheesy moment, like something you’d see in at the end of a 1980’s movie montage, but it also feels significant. This moment is bonding the five of us, and I suspect that Adoel knew it would happen. Hope, faith, passion and focus, united with me. “Family,” I say.

  The word is repeated four times more, working its way around the circle.

  A moment later, a deep, rolling rattle separates us. Grumpy stands by the tree, his muzzle stained purple. Zok, whose snout is also covered in Nephilim blood steps up next to him and repeats the gentle call.

  “I think they’re ready to go,” I say.

  My sisters and wife silently agree, and we head for the dinosaurs, all lost in our own silent reflections. The beasts crouch down allowing us to climb on their backs, Kat and I on Grumpy, the others on Zok. When the dinosaurs stand again, I look across to Kainda. “Ready...wife?”

  “After you, husband.”

  I grin, give Grumpy a gentle nudge with my legs and say, “Let’s go!”

  The dinosaurs take off at a sprint, quickly reaching twenty miles per hour, the speed at which they can run long distance. The jungle passes in a blur, and with every step we take closer to the FOB, my elation over the events of the past few minutes is replaced by a growing dread that we might all be dead by this time tomorrow.

  23

  The rest of the trip is fairly eventless. With the dinosaurs carrying us, there’s no need to stop to rest, though we pause twice for me to use the bathroom. Apparently, getting unexpectedly married has had an effect on my nerves...and my bladder.

  I spend the first four hours of our journey speaking to Kat, filling her in on the enemy forces. We cover everything from their numbers, to their various classes and capabilities, how to kill them, their potential tactics, their long history, their parentage and their ultimate goals. By the time we finish, Kat knows everything about the Nephilim that I do. When we reach the FOB, she and I will meet with General Holloway and any other officers that need to be there. I’ll answer any questions that come up, but it will be Kat’s job to figure out the best military response to each possible situation. I can lead the troops and do some serious damage, but modern military capabilities are something I know very little about.

  When we’ve finally exhausted the topic, Kat goes silent, working out every possible Nephilim strategy and what the human response could be. With my riding partner preoccupied, and conversation with Em, Mira and Kainda impossible as the two dinosaurs weave their way east through the jungle, my thoughts turn inward.

  I’m married.

  How did that happen?

  For a moment, I entertain the idea that this is something I’m not okay with. After all, it was kind of sprung on me. Sprung is probably too gentle a word since I didn’t even know I was getting married. To be honest, I have never once envisioned what my wedding day would be like. I don’t think young men really daydream about that kind of thing. Or at least, I don’t. It’s not a subject one thinks about much while fighting giants who want to kidnap, corrupt and ultimately possess you.

  I try to envision myself dressed in a tuxedo, standing by the altar with Justin, Wright, Tobias and Merrill standing by my side. It’s impossible, I know. Some of them are dead, but my closest friends are all women and my imagination already has Em, Mira, Kat and Aimee standing beside Kainda, who I have to admit looks radiant in a white wedding dress. But then she turns to me with a look on her face that says, I will kill you for this, and I smile.

  A traditional wedding, with a church and rice throwing and the Electric Slide would have never worked anyway. If I’m honest, the whole experience would likely make me nauseous, too.

  While I might have been bamboozled into my marriage, it was simple and pure. It might be the one thing hunters got right, if they actually married for love. Who knows, maybe some of them did? When I was split into two personalities, Ull was a hunter to the core. He was cocky, brash, violent and quick to anger. He was passionate. But he wasn’t entirely negative. The first time I had feelings for Kainda, Ull was in control. It’s why we saved her life. If Ull can show compassion to another hunter because he has feelings for her, then it’s possible other hunters experience the same thing, though they would likely never admit it.

  Tobias is another good example. He loved Luca and Em enough that they fled and tried to live apart from the Nephilim. And then there is Em. When I look at her, and hear the joy of her laughter and see the cuteness of her full freckled cheeks, I wonder how she could have ever been a killer.

  But it’s not just hunters. The human race as a whole has the same kind of potential to overcome darkness. And it’s happening now on Antarctica. The people of the world came here divided, each hoping to claim a part of this new world for themselves. But now they’re united against a common enemy. The old hatreds, many of them created and encouraged by the Nephilim, are falling away.

  If the human race loses this fight and is wiped off the planet, at least we’ll have fought as one. A hunter would call it dying well, and I think I would have to agree.

  Not that I’m planning on dying, or losing the battle. But if it happens...the human race will still have achieved something impressive—unity. It’s too bad we couldn’t achieve unity without half-demon man-eating genocidal inspiration, but hey, we’re flawed.

  I glance to my right and see Kainda atop Zok’s back as they slip through the jungle. She’s dressed in her scant black leathers, hammer clipped to her belt, black hair braided back tight. Her eyes are forward, watching for danger. Her muscles are flexed as she clings to Zok. She’s like a sleek sports car decked out with guns—dangerous curves.

  This is my wife, I think. How awesome is that?

  The white wedding dress. The church. The reception. All of that stuff. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that woman. She is my perfect match—strong when I’m not, always by my side, and has seen me at my worst and yet still loves me.

  The way we were bonded was perfect. I didn’t know it at the time, but there was no better way, or moment, for us to be married. We’re both hunters. This is the life we live. We’re dangerous with our weapons, and with our hearts. Sometimes we have to kill suddenly, but other times we love suddenly.

  Kainda senses my attention and meets my eyes.

  Since neither of us is actually directing the dinosaurs, we linger. Despite the jolting ride, the vegetation and the tree trunks flashing between us, I manage to lose myself in her nearly black eyes.

  I hear a sound. A voice, I think. But it barely registers.

  A dopey smile forms and I feel my body morph into a kind of gelatinous mold of a human being. My parents once told me about the stages of love. Lust, romance and then solid commitment, but I suspect things are a little different for Kainda and I. The way we’re wired is a bit different than the outside world, and our notions of commitment, despite also being in what my mom called “the honeymoon stage”, is profound.

  The voice returns, this time a little louder. I still don’t hear the word being spoken. I’m not listening. I’m barely present. But a sharp smack to the back of my head pulls me out of my blissful state.

  “Snap out of it, Lancelot,” Kat says.

  “What? Hey, Lancelot was an adulterer,” I complain at the comparison to one of King Arthur’s most infamous Knights of the Round Table. />
  “Whatever,” Kat says, “We’re—”

  “Guinevere was condemned to burn at the stake. The Knight’s were divided and the—”

  “Fine, bad analogy,” Kat says, the urgency of her words reaching my mind. “We’re almost there.”

  I look back at her. She’s grim. “That’s a good thing, right?”

  “Kid,” she says, once again forgetting that we’re technically the same age, “I called you Lancelot because if you were thinking with your brain, you’d notice that you were about to land yourself in hot water.”

  The cobwebs of love disintegrate at her warning and I suddenly feel the world around me in sharp detail. “Smoke.”

  “A lot of it,” Kat says.

  I lean forward and pat Grumpy on the side of the neck. “Whoa, boy. Slow down. Slow down.”

  Grumpy huffs in response and our run quickly becomes a slow and careful walk. Zok follows his lead, slowing and falling in line, just behind her pack leader.

  “This is close enough,” Kat says.

  Em walks past us, having already leapt down from Zok’s back. She’s in a hurry. “Something is wrong.” Then she sprints ahead, no doubt concerned for Luca’s well-being.

  Grumpy lowers himself toward the ground, but Kat and I are off and running before he’s all the way down. Kainda and Mira are right behind us, but Em is nowhere in sight.

  “Where’d she go?” Mira asks.

  “This way,” I say, following the barely perceptible trail. I shove aside a low-hanging branch, heavy with leaves that are bigger than me. Em stands ten feet ahead at the edge of the jungle. “Em, wait up.”

  She turns around at the sound of my voice. Tears are in her eyes. She doesn’t have to say anything to tell us something is seriously wrong. Lacking any kind of caution, we push through the brush and fallen trees that mark the border between the jungle and the swath of ground that had been clear-cut in preparation for the final battle.

  The first thing I see upon entering the clearing is a black swirling cloud blocking my view. I direct the wind to carry it away, and the air clears quickly. But as the smoke rises, my heart sinks. The forward operating base which was to be the location of humanity’s last stand, has been destroyed.

  24

  When Kat tries and fails to contact anyone on her small portable radio, I start to sprint across the clearing, but Kat snags my arm and stops me cold. “No!” she says. “The first hundred feet are covered with land mines.”

  A quick look down reveals a mud covered mound that could be a mine...or not. I suppose not knowing one way or the other is the point. “How do we get across?” I ask. I’m about five seconds away from flying myself across the distance when Kat points to a string of tree trunks that cuts across the clearing.

  “Seems like a bad idea,” I say, “Having such an obvious path across.”

  “You didn’t notice it,” Kat says. “And the sniper with a direct line of sight down the path, with high caliber rounds strong enough to punch through five men, would have made a pretty good deterrent.”

  There’s no doubt that Kat would have been that sniper. As I look at the straight line of trees and trace them back to a well protected bunker, it’s clear that the path across might actually be far more dangerous. But not for us. I work my way through the jungle to the first tree trunk and climb on top.

  Grumpy lets out a deep, but gentle roar. I turn and find the giant’s head poking out of the jungle. He wants to come with us. “Stay here,” I say, trying to think it at the cresty as well. I’m not entirely certain how the creature seems to understand me, but it does. He grunts in complaint. “Stay. Here.”

  With a sigh, the dinosaur slips back into the jungle and disappears, thanks to his camouflaged skin.

  I climb atop the first trunk and work my way across. Once I’m certain the logs are securely embedded in the mud and aren’t going to roll, I run the distance. By the time I reach the end, I’m airborne, spurred by my concern for Luca, the hunters we led here, the soldiers we freed from the Nephilim prison, and all the men and women who have come here since, to fight for the human race.

  The rest of the distance flashes past in a blur. I touch down in the center of the base where just days ago I stood with Merrill and Aimee, where I said goodbye to Xin, who gave his life for me and where I killed the shifter posing as Mira. But there’s no sign of any of those events or people present.

  Including bodies.

  For a moment, the lack of dead puts me at ease, but then I remember who our enemy is. Why leave dead when you can eat them? But there are many other clues about what happened, the first of which, Kat points out, when they catch up to me, running through the front gate.

  “There’s no sign of a fight,” she says. “No shells, no blood, no remains. Even if they took the bodies there would still be...parts. The base wouldn’t have fallen without a fight. Even if it was a surprise attack.”

  “No footprints, either,” Kainda says, looking at the ground. The easiest way to know a Nephilim has visited, if it’s been long enough for the stench to fade, is to look for footprints. The thirty foot goliaths tend to leave deep impressions.

  “The heavy equipment is gone, too,” Kat notes. “No tanks. No artillery. This was a coordinated mobilization.”

  “A retreat?” Mira asks.

  Hearing the word makes me sick. This is one fight we cannot run away from, even if just the five of us have to fight alone. Kat’s silence doesn’t bode well, but I come to my own conclusion.

  “General Holloway understood the stakes. As did Merrill and Mira, and Luca, not to mention the hunters and soldiers we freed. They wouldn’t run away.”

  “As much as I believe that about my parents,” Mira says, “they’re not here.”

  “We just need to figure out where they went,” I said, scouring the base for any aberration. Many of the temporary buildings—tents and metal structures—are slowly burning, as is the wall built around the core of the base, and the watch towers. But there are no signs of larger, more violent destruction. “Kat, Em, Kainda, spread out and see if you can find some hint of where they went, and why some of the buildings are burning.”

  “And what do you want me to do?” Mira asks, clearly not enthused that I’ve left her out of the search.

  “Watch the skies,” I say. “We’re exposed and alone.”

  She gives a nod, all hints of disappointment gone. I’ve given her the most important job—keeping us alive. “If you find a gun or something larger than this knife—” She pats the blade tucked into her belt.

  I nod. “I’ll look for something, but you’ve done pretty well with just the knife.”

  She smiles. “Yeah...” But then forces the grin away and says, deadpan, “Find me a gun.”

  No matter how grim a situation, Mira has a way of making me laugh. I leave her with a smile, but it quickly fades as I set to work. My first stop is the large metal Quonset hut structure. Smoke billows from its door and windows, but the structure still looks solid. As I approach the door, the smoke parts for me.

  Inside is just a cloud of black. I force the soot from the space, and snuff the fires with a thought. Beams of orange late-day sun lance through the wide open space, illuminating the destruction within. Not a thing remains. Every desk, piece of equipment and scrap of paper has been burned. I catch a trace of gasoline in the air.

  I step further inside, walking over the embers of whatever was in this building. I’m sure the heat would be burning me if I could feel it, but since that moment with Kainda, I haven’t felt any temperature beyond a comfortable ambient seventy degrees. It’s odd, but it has its benefits. While the others have been sweating in what is obviously sweltering and humid heat, I’ve been just peachy.

  My search yields no results. Nothing was left behind. No messages. No markings. And nothing that couldn’t be burned to a crisp.

  I hear a crunch behind me. A quick sniff reveals the scent of sweat and guns. Kat. “Find anything?”

  “
Just scorched earth,” she says.

  “What about the radio?” I ask.

  She holds the radio to her mouth, pushes the call button and says, in very non-military fashion. “This is Katherine Ferrell looking for General Kent Holloway. If anyone reads, answer now.” She lets go of the button and we listen to thirty seconds of static before she speaks again. “They either have no radios or are out of range. My best guess is that they were up to something and didn’t want to risk a chance of the enemy discovering what that was, so they bugged out and set the place on fire. Also, the smoke will draw the Nephilim here, at least in part, and they’ll still get a good taste of the mine field, which is the one and only thing they did leave behind.”

  “But they knew we were coming back,” I say. “And you were just here a few days ago.”

  She crouches down, picks up what looks like an artifact covered in soot, but it just crumbles in her fingers. “Things change fast in war. And as for you, there was no guarantee you would come back. No offense, but not even I thought it was a guarantee. And let’s be honest, you almost didn’t make it back.”

  Well...she’s right about that. “So they just up and left without a clue?”

  “Didn’t say that, but if they left something behind for us to find, it’s going to be subtle. I doubt they want to advertise where they went, but I can tell you one thing for certain.”

  I wait for the big reveal in silence.

  “They either went north or south.”