From far down beyond the descending platforms came a light seemingly a mile away, its shine somehow seeping through the pandemonium to reach Jon’s eyes.
The runes.
“General, do you think we should—” a hailstorm of rail gun rounds cut off Reverend Johnny’s question as the shots ricocheted around the entry team.
A group of Vikings stood on a jetty higher than Jon’s group and a hundred yards away to their right. Their camouflage ponchos struggled to find the right pattern. Some turned cream like the floor of the rings, others splashed blue resembling the arcs of electricity shooting across parts of the machine, others shaded black, gray, silver, and red in reaction to the various colors found in the chaos.
“Take cover!” Jon yelled but that cover presented as much danger as bullets.
“Dear God, we are not alone,” but Johnny did not mean the Vikings. He directed Brewer’s attention in the opposite direction where, in the shadow of a pyramid-shaped metallic structure spitting sparks, gathered a cadre of Wraiths.
The alien races appeared as confused and intimidated by the gigantic apparatus as the humans. However, the commanders of each of the three groups managed to focus their charges on the mission.
The Wraiths split into groups. Three hurried toward the transport tunnel, aiming for one of the entry slots. Others descended the rings level by level.
The Vikings moved carefully, clearing every corner like a SWAT team sweeping a building.
Jon spread out his force in a picket line and hurried to the next ring. His right flank made contact with the Vikings. One human soldier absorbed a series of rounds in the chest and fell. Another tossed a grenade at the enemy. Its detonation caused a nearby glowing red ball of crystal to explode. The resulting shock wave smashed more machine parts and crippled two Vikings.
Jon’s left flank engaged several Wraiths. Their screams shattered tubes and chipped pulsating rocks and also killed a soldier.
Reverend Johnny responded by climbing on top a large glowing block. He fired from his elevated position at the Wraiths, evaporating one and forcing the others to retreat.
Through it all, the invaders on each side dodged moving walls, swinging hooks, and bursts of energy between power couplings.
Unit cohesion evaporated, for all the combatants. The chaos of the great machine conspired to eradicate any order as did the constant sniping between enemies. Each of the invading forces deteriorated into smaller groups.
No one—alien or human— noticed the covers on three compartments near the ceiling slide open.
Jon, with a trio of soldiers in tow, came to the edge of the ring. The next level sat some six feet below but as he stood at the lip and prepared to leap, he noticed groves that resembled—
“Look out!” A soldier cried as a massive gear came whirling along the edge like a mammoth wheel.
Jon and his three comrades jumped for the next level, one did not move fast enough. The groves of the gear caught him, crushed him beneath, and split his body in two, half of which stuck to the metallic surface as it rolled away.
The chaos of the machine afforded no time to mourn, no moment for reflection. The instant Jon Brewer hit the floor on the next level he had to avoid an extending pole charged with electricity jabbing out from an opening in the terrace wall. Crackling energy singed the top of his crew cut.
Brewer spoke to the two men on his flanks, “Watkins, Cooper, stick close to me.”
Watkins—a short fellow with a beard who had been nicknamed ‘the Dwarf’ by some of the men—offered, “There are more of my squad in the area, Sir. I can round them up if you like.”
“No time, we have to move fast. Just stay on my six.”
Jon knew he could not waste the time to coordinate the entire team; every second that ticked by meant a Wraith or a Viking could find and imprint the runes first. He suppressed his instinct for military order and gave in to the chaos; the battle for the runes had become one last headlong sprint through this maze of machine with armies dwindling to individuals.
His adrenaline, his focus, and his fear of failure compelled him forward like a junkie in desperate search of a fix and for Jon Brewer, that fix was the need to prove his courage and worth. Not to Trevor, not to Lori, not to his daughter, but to the ghosts of the men he once abandoned on a battlefield the day Armageddon struck.
That focus kept him from seeing those three compartments high on the wall in the shadow of the ceiling. From those compartments came yet more madness in the form of three guardians, one flying out in search of targets, the other two walking down the wall on spindly legs, hidden from view by the pieces of the machine they protected.
Below, a Viking hustled around a mass of wires and rock and came face-to-face with a human soldier who fired and missed, the Viking answered with better accuracy.
Three Wraiths boarded the conveyor-belt in the transport tube. That belt moved them forward quickly until it stopped at another opening in the tunnel for a short pause not unlike a city bus halting to pick up passengers.
A human soldier tossed a grenade at their feet. The demons reached for it, but the conveyor belt moved them forward again into the confines of the tunnel where the grenade exploded with a muffled boom.
Meanwhile, Reverend Johnny ran and jumped across the top of machine parts with his big gun sweeping for targets. He watched humans and Wraiths and Vikings worm through the maze of machinations.
He saw a Wraith impaled by a spear-like device. He saw a Viking fall into an open hole followed immediately by a large rock with pulsating veins dropped into that same hole where it certainly crushed the alien.
Reverend Johnny glanced down and locked his eyes on the black sockets of a Wraith staring up at him. The vile fiend opened its long mouth and began its deadly scream.
“Shut up!” Johnny’s shout lacked his usual elegance but his machine gun provided its usual lethality.
Further away in the space between two house-sized bricks, a Viking soldier found his path suddenly blocked by some mechanical monstrosity walking on three legs supporting a round center piece. On that centerpiece, a track holding a long blade that spun around the body of the thing like a helicopter rotor.
Before the alien realized exactly what he faced, the guardian wobbled forward and cut him into smaller parts. As those parts fell to the floor, the poncho finally settled on a color: red.
Beneath a canopy of meshed wires, a Wraith screamed at a human soldier, exploding his head. But as the body fell, a new threat flew through the air directly at the demonic creature. The confused Wraith saw a sphere slightly larger than a beach ball with a ring of jagged blades around its center and the upper half covered by a large eye that appeared more biological than mechanical. The bottom half spun fast as if providing the propulsion needed for flight.
A moment later, a powder-filled cloak fluttered to the ground with a round hole in its chest.
Jon emerged from the forest of energy towers with Watkins and Cooper to either side. They came to the end of yet another of the terraced rings. Below them waited the next level, the next step closer to the runes.
“Okay, let’s jump down, and watch for surprises.”
Cooper jumped and landed safely. Jon did the same, and then turned to watch for Watkins, who stepped off the ledge but stopped in mid air with a scream coming from his lips.
Something resembling a hose had grabbed the short man and hauled him back up to the ridge above. That hose-like tendril came from one panel of the diamond-shaped third guardian.
It took Jon a long moment to realize that what grabbed his man was not just another mechanical menace from the giant machine, but a separate entity that killed on purpose, not as a side effect.
This guardian walked on spidery legs while the bottom half of its bronze colored, diamond-shaped metallic body sported eyes on all four sides. It made a sound like a wind-up toy or perhaps the workings of a cuckoo clock preparing to chime.
“Aim for the arms or whatever those thing
s are,” Jon ordered Cooper while Watkins struggled in the grip of the creature.
Before bullets fired, the guardian’s diamond-body unhinged at the mid-point revealing metallic teeth that tore away Watkins’ head, beard and all. The hoses then released the decapitated body. It bounced off the ridge and tumbled to Jon’s feet.
Cooper pulled the trigger on his M16, hitting the guardian with several rounds. It retreated out of sight, back into the forest of towers.
With the creature gone—for now—Cooper stopped firing, pulled a crucifix from beneath his white parka, and while he rubbed it between his finger and thumb he asked his General, “What the hell was that?”
“Wow. I don’t know but keep moving, keep—”
Jon pushed Cooper to the ground just in time to avoid a sharp plate swinging neck-high through the machinery…
…Reverend Johnny continued running atop of the mechanisms but he did so with great caution; he found electrified sockets and holes filled with sharp prongs on many of the blocks, spheres, and pillars he jumped to and from. A risk worth taking in exchange for such an improved view of the terrain.
Off to his right he spotted a lone soldier walking toward a set of massive pistons where four Vikings waited in ambush.
“Hey! I say there! Fall back!”
The Reverend’s voice was one of the few man-made sounds capable of rising above the cacophony of clicks, rumbles, buzzes, and clangs.
On Johnny’s advice, the man retreated.
The Reverend then steadied his machine gun and fired a burst in the direction of those Vikings. Two suffered grievous wounds, the other two ran away.
However, as he fired at those aliens, behind him a Wraith climbed onto the rectangular box on which Johnny stood. The creature struck with a bony back hand and sent Johnny to his stomach and his gun sliding out of reach.
The monstrosity gawked at its victim, perhaps savoring an easy kill. Its mouth stretched unbelievably wide, like a snake planning to gobble a meal twice its size.
Suddenly, everything inside the cloak exploded into powder. The sound of rifle fire came next. Not until the empty cape fell to the ground did Johnny realized that someone had come to his rescue this time.
He rose to a knee and saw that the soldier he had saved from the Vikings had returned the favor. The man had climbed on top of a marble-colored box for a clear shot.
“I say there! Thank y–WATCH OUT!”
A crescent-shaped pendulum the size of a yacht and attached to an incomprehensibly long arm arced down from the ceiling behind the soldier. Its pointed end slammed into the fellow’s back, scooping him up and then propelling him off into the air at great speed and height before his body disappeared into the patchwork of machine parts on the level below.
“Lord have mercy.”
Johnny bowed his head in a silent prayer before retrieving his weapon and returning to the task at hand…
…The trio of Wraiths did not see the Viking as he jumped down behind them from the level above. He raised his rifle to shoot the three of them in the back, but a pillar of stone slammed to the floor from the ceiling, crushing him and his now crimson-colored poncho. The pillar then slowly withdrew upwards with the flattened body of the alien stuck to its underside like a crushed mouse on an elephant foot.
The Wraiths—unaware of their good fortune—continued lower, deeper, into the machine toward the runes…
…The diamond-shaped guardian stalked through a field of cables and mushroom-shaped power nodes. Jon and Cooper opened fire from the hiding spots they chose for the ambush. Their assault rifle shots first sparked against the thing’s metallic exterior before finding and goring one of its four eyes.
“That’s the sweet spot! Keep firing!”
Carbine fire cleared away the mess revealing a sick combination of animal organs and mechanical gears. Finally those bullets scored a critical hit. The guardian collapsed…
…A squad of Vikings followed a ramp surrounded by banks of chattering levers engaged in some unfathomable task. The guardian with the spinning blade wobbled around the bend in front of the aliens and sliced in half the two at the front of the unit.
Before the pieces of their bodies hit the ground, the rest of the squad opened fire with their magnetic rail guns. The powerful blasts punched dents in its spherical body but failed to strike a lethal blow.
In the name of the cause, a Viking junior officer activated an explosive device on his ammunition belt and ran toward the beast in a suicidal charge. He and the guardian exploded together, leaving a pile of gore on the ramp and the robot’s big blade wedged in a mass of machinery…
…Jon and Cooper reached the edge of another ring. From their position they could see two more rings of crazy machine but, beyond that and visible through a rare gap in the clutter, they also saw the final destination.
Far below at the center of the descending rings glowed a circle of light. In that circle stood two objects about six feet tall with one round orb on top of each.
Jon stopped and stared at the runes. Could that truly be the end of this crazy mission? Had Trevor actually been right about all this?
“Sir, look out!”
A Wraith shared the platform with the two humans, its mouth wide open and its deadly scream bellowing out from its demon heart.
VROOM—SMACK.
A massive column shot out from the wall as fast as a bullet, hitting, pushing, and tossing the Wraith off the ledge and twirling through the air where its body disintegrated to ashes and sprinkled down over the gears, sprockets, and flashing lights on the ring below.
From the opposite direction came a group of Vikings, their ponchos colored in a collection of shades ranging from white to blue to tan.
“We need to keep moving.”
“Whatever you say, Sir.”
“That’s the spirit, Coop.”
“Not really. I’m just scared shitless.”
The men jumped to the next level…
…Only three Wraiths remained inside the obelisk because the flying guardian with the buzz-saw midriff had decimated their numbers. It honed in on the trio.
The Wraiths gathered at the edge of a maze of granite blocks linked with shimmering electric cables. The guardian dive-bombed toward the group as their jaws elongated and their song of destruction began to play.
Sharp, spinning blades sliced off a skeletal head as the great machine’s flying sentry made its pass. An empty cloak sans hood fell to the floor.
The two remaining creatures entered the maze as the buzz saw swooped around in pursuit and followed them in.
Just as it closed for a kill, its target darted to the side with surprising agility. The round attacker bounced off a wall, hovered in the air for a second as if dazed, and then continued the chase.
Both Wraiths emerged from the maze onto the open ground overlooking the runes, overlooking the prize. One turned to face the exit of the maze and screamed despite no enemy in sight.
“wwwwhhhhhhahhHHHHAAAAA”.
With a whirr and a clang, the guardian rounded the last bend in the maze and flew along the exit path, into the cone of the Wraith’s scream.
Perfect timing.
The flying machine sparked and exploded into harmless shards.
The victorious Wraith cocked its head, turned to its partner, and gawked its black maw in a devil’s grin of satisfaction.
The two robed creatures descended toward the runes…
…Jon fired his carbine to his right as he ran toward the last ridge of the last ring.
The runes waited below.
He fired at three Vikings running parallel to his sprint. Cooper did the same, a few steps behind his General.
A bullet found its target, causing an alien to stumble and roll over the edge of the ring as its arms and covered head twitched and shook in death spasms.
One of the poncho’d Vikings lobbed an explosive charge. The detonation delivered a powerful concussion. Jon sprawled to the floor and lost his rifle in
the spill. He watched helplessly as it slid forward and over the edge.
He heard Cooper scream and turned to see the man rolling on the floor holding a badly wounded knee. At that moment, Jon realized he was on his own…
…In the center of a cone of light waited the runes. Two rough pillars resembling gray stalagmites six feet tall and nearly four feet apart from one another each fixed into a small base of similar material. Whoever or whatever forged the odd device also carved strange symbols on the pillars.
At the top of each pillar was a round silver ball that resembled metal or something similar.
Jon knew what he had to do. So did the Wraiths. So did the Vikings.
The world’s fate…humanity’s future…depended on Jon Brewer—now unarmed and exhausted—reaching the ‘runes’ first.
The two Wraiths jumped the final ledge and approached the pillars from the left. Two Vikings did the same from the right.
One Wraith raised its lethal voice and enveloped a Viking with its scream, popping the brown-colored hood and creating a fountain of blood.
The remaining Viking stopped, knelt for improved accuracy, and pulled the trigger of his rail gun. The projectile slammed into a Wraith’s shoulder, causing it to spin and twist while at the same time evaporating to dust.
He fired once more for the remaining enemy but missed as the creature retreated.
The alien stood and raced for the great prize that was now for his taking…only to be stopped as strong hands grasped his shoulders and spun him around where Jon Brewer’s fist smashed into the poncho hood just below the invader’s goggles.
As the alien struggled with consciousness, Brewer yanked the rail gun from its grip and swung the rifle like a club, smashing his foe in the neck and causing the alien to tumble to the floor.
“wwwwhhhhhhahhHHHHAAAAA”.
His head filled with an ungodly vibration as the remaining Wraith returned and attacked. He felt his skull tremble and his brain expand like a balloon filling with helium.
The noise stopped. Jon fell to a knee and, out the corner of his eye, saw a pile of chalky particles and an empty cloak where his assailant had stood.
Beyond Armageddon: Book 02 - Empire Page 36
