Dusk Territories: Always Burning

by Munden, Deston

  Raleigh howled in pain as the fire consumed him. The death was far slower than the rest. The sea-foam flames didn’t take him instantly, it burnt slowly. His skin cracked like glass, body losing its very form. He gurgled like he was drowning now, reaching towards this ceiling. Finally, he was nothing more than a mesh of meat and ash. Graham’s pale eyes quivered from anger. You can’t stop this. They’re going to kill all of them. They always killed all of them. “Why did I trust you?”

  “You couldn’t stop yourself. The question is…why did they trust you?”

  Drifter’s words sung deeply in his mind. Trust is a concept. Graham knew this to be true, now more than ever. If only you let yourself believe that Kingsley betrayed you. If only you allowed your mind to believe. You never forgot your past. You just stored it away. The clues were there. You saw his face in Celine’s.

  “Last one, are you going to fight or…”

  Juvenico took a deep breath, looking at his commander. “You did a hell of a job, Graham. We wouldn’t have made it this far. Maybe….Heron was right. I was weak. But, you allowed me to be strong…if for a little while.” Tears fell from his eyes as he took some steps forward. “No matter what happens here, you did a hell of a job. Just know that. It’s just a shame that they got us.” Juv kneeled down before Brink, accepting his fate with pride. “Sorry. We weren’t ready, you knew that.”

  No. The ‘Corporal” wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to lead. He wasn’t ready to heal. He wasn’t ready for anything. He wasn’t prepared. Survival was all he cared about. He was too busy looking forward that he didn’t see what’s behind him.

  “No, Juv, I’m sor—“

  Brink didn’t even give him that reassurance. He shot Juvenico before he could hear it.

  So, here you are again, surrounded by the dead that knew you as a leader.

  Graham never felt such anger before. It wasn’t the type of anger that sent him into a boiling rage. That would have been preferable. No. This anger dug deep holes into what was left of his struggling soul. He just stood, unable to cry or grieve but also unable to move. He just stood watching the man that he trusted before with his life kill everyone around him for a second time. It made sense now. Of course it was an inside job; no one else could have gotten into the camp like that. The realization left him with nothing as he stared. “I’m going to kill you, all of you. Do you think the grave will stop me?”

  Nothing was left in Graham’s voice. Not even a tone. “You’ve done wrong. Nothing will stop me from rectifying that.”

  “You think that you can cheat death twice?” Brink shrugged.

  “You think you can do it once.”

  Brink gave his main weapon away to one of his soldiers, and pulled a side arm from his hip. It was a small handgun, the silver weapon now touching his temple. You’ve seen this gun before. Hahaha. You’ve seen it.

  Graham recognized the pain now. That was the same gun that he used to kill him before. The bullet swam through his skull in the past, after all the other men were bathed in blood around him. Brink executed you like this. He didn’t even have to bend you down to shoot you. He was always the tallest. Now, again it posed the same threat. This bullet must be a shark, just waiting through the sea of time to kill you, Corporal. “You think a bullet will stop me?” He would give the bullet and its owner no such pleasure.

  Pure cold anger surged through Graham’s arms, breaking away from the soldiers that held him. He went for Brink’s neck, throwing him to the ground. Throat muscles pumped helplessly in his palms, as his fingers clutched together. You want his head, you can do it. Right now. He would have, he really would have, if not the first bullet from a soldier across the room didn’t sheared through his shoulder.

  Dark red blood splattered from his exposed muscle onto Brink’s face, but the grip didn’t loosen. Not at first. Bullet after bullet, from all directions, hit him over and over again. Graham hardly felt the pain, even with his blood staining the white skin of his enemy. You lied to yourself to keep your memories of your squad safe. For what? For it to happen again? Desire alone couldn’t bring him to his justice. His fingers lost strength, even as they scratched against flesh hopelessly. Soon after, his body gave way.

  Graham crashed on his side, vision blurry. He lost count how many bullets he had taken. If he was alive, truly alive, he wouldn’t have taken that many. But you’ve been dead, inside and out. You didn’t want to kill yourself because you were this; you had nothing to live for. Not until now. In the end, the results were the same, on his side looking up at the visage of Brink getting to his feet. He saw him touch his neck, heard him cough. Pain shot through Graham’s body, yet his mind remained clear.

  Brink was talking; rather, his mouth was moving, but he couldn’t hear the words. All he could see was that silver gun, that damn silver gun pointed at him. I went through so many lengths to keep his secret and so did I, Graham thought, finally admitting it to himself. He saw the gun steady towards the side of his head again. But I know who you are. I know who your leader is.

  “Go ahead, Corporal David Graham can die. But I’ll live. ” Graham couldn’t even hear his own voice but knew he was saying it. “You think you’re safe. You think you’ve buried me. But I won’t be buried. These lives on my hands, David’s life. Yeah. I’ll remember. David has paid twice for his sins. Now….it’s your turn.”

  He didn’t even hear the gun go off.

  _

  Ragnar heard the gunshot from the other side of the building. He knew then, Drifter wasn’t here.

  The large man pushed his way through the men, back down the hallway. Light was giving way, and night was slowly taking its place. Ribbons of dimming sunlight from the windows gave no comfort. Everything felt slow, and anger rose from his chest. They took him away, put him aside for what reason. The man that he wanted wasn’t even here. Instead, Ragnar was a glorified bodyguard. Fury trembled on his lips.

  They had sent him away to inspect the rest of the building. Guards were assigned to him to make the part look better than what it was, a game of fetch. Rationality had no place during that time. He did as he was told and kept moving. Now, cleared up a bit, he could see that Brink wanted him away. There was only one real reason for that.

  “Brink!” he shouted, moving through the hallways. “Brink! You knew!”

  His shouting was met with giggles, not from the man he expected but from River. She stood outside of the door, leaning with one foot against the wall. Her head was down, but eyes fixated on the rampaging beast before her. She tossed her hair, nail of her right thumb in her mouth. She smiled despite that.

  “You? You knew too!”

  “Of course I did, Raggy. It seemed way too easy. You should have known too.”

  “Then let me through.”

  “Ragnar,” River’s voice grew cold. “You don’t want to fight Brink now.” She lifted her head to view him. “He’s willing to put anything away to seal the truth. Even us. We can’t look like a fool now. Not with so much work left to do. I considered you a smart man, Dr. Owen. If you’re really thirsty for revenge, let’s take the best approach to this. Brink still has uses for us. Drifter is out there. And now, Brink’s caught my interest. Attacking him now in a fit of anger is just stupid. You aren’t stupid, are you Scott?”

  Ragnar lowered his weapon. Something was off with Brink. He was one of two sons of the Ancestors. That didn’t come easily. He hadn’t even shown why yet. To attack him, and expect to win, with this many resources would be stupid. “No. No, I’m not.”

  “Then don’t act like it. There’s a time for everything. A snake doesn’t stay in grass just because it’s shady.”

  “Why are you helping me? You could have just watched me get killed.”

  “We promised to kill each other. Or did you forget?” River giggled. “We can’t do that if you’re dead. Now wait. We still have a lot of things to do on this playground.”

  Ragnar watched Brink exit the room and
smiled as well: “Indeed we do.”

  “What are you two talking about? Were you just yelling just then, Doctor?”

  “Nothing, just a bit frenzied from my lack of action.” Ragnar gave him enough truth to matter, not enough to show intentions. “So, Drifter wasn’t here. Did you find the person that you wanted to find?”

  “Yes,” Brink responded, simply. “The task is done, now we can focus on different, more important endeavors. It’s surprising that you didn’t overreact. I had measures planned if you did.”

  River stole a glance at Ragnar. They both knew as long as they remained “loyal” that he could find uses in them. Their uses for him, however, were slowly becoming numbered. Treat them like he wished, one day Brink was going to regret that. That day could be tomorrow, the next week, or even years but they will snake bite him. The two may hate each other, but they knew they couldn’t escape from the Ancestors on their time. Until then, his resources were in their possession. They were going to use them, as much as he thought he was using there’s.

  “We should see the artist’s work then?” River said, bowing.

  She swept into the door and Ragnar followed.

  The battle was a lot cleaner than he had imagined. Five bodies were sprawled throughout the large room. Some still move in lifeless spasms. Checkered tiles had been cut open by the slaughter, allowing blood to drip through them and down. They were all very clean deaths, four shot and the last…unrecognizable. But, the look on River’s face told another story. Her eyes flicked from one end of the room to the other. Ragnar begged a question, but his words were stolen by the entrance of the main culprit.

  Brink too stared utterly at the five bodies in wonder, blank-faced. It was like a horror movie, everyone knew what was wrong in the room, all but one. That one was lost. They could try to piece together what was wrong, reason with it. In the end, simple facts evaded the oblivious viewer. Information usually led to questions, questions that they didn’t want to know. Ultimately, in the movie, that would lead to death.

  Suddenly, all over again, Ragnar felt the reaper tapping on his shoulder.

  “There were six,” Brink muttered, sweat breaking on his forehead.

  River stepped casually over the bodies, leading to the window at the end. Glass no longer kept the elements out, with no shards on the floor. It had been broken out, by the inside. “This window was intact minutes ago. The one that’s missing,” she began looking down, “is the man that vowed he’ll get justice.”

  “You mean—“Ragnar turned to Brink, who stepped back. There was no one in the room, but he was sure that Graham was dead. Could he die again? Did they not….kill him enough? Yet, he was gone. His body was no longer here, even Ragnar could see that. “Did you not tell me you killed him?”

  “I did. I swear it…” Weakness seeped in Brink’s voice.

  The weakness and fear didn’t stop there. It poured into the rest of the room.

  _

  “This is your doing,” Brink said, shouting.

  Celine had been watching, as she always did. She had become an excellent observer in all of this. The game was becoming larger and larger by the minute. She only had to watch one screen at the start of this. Now, she had plenty to watch. Amused would have been the right word, but there were too many things going on for that to be a defensible emotion. Instead, she was entertained much like a person watching a sport. “I did no such thing,” she responded with a shrug. “I know just as much about this as you do, which, from your face, is very little.”

  She had, of course, heard the shattering of the window. Yet, it appeared so fast. The window was gone, and then nothing. Whatever was created up there, just left. Its feet barely touched the ground, and it merged into the night. “What did you do up there?” Of course, she knew. She just wanted to hear his side of the story.

  “Kill the man that knew about our family.”

  “Oh did you?” She crossed her legs, sitting comfortably on the roof of one of Brink’s trucks. “What I saw was something different. You butchered the man’s men. Toyed with him. His mutation was unique, you had no clue how it worked. But you played with him. Now, look what you created, another monster. At this rate, you’ll bring down our organization faster than I could.”

  “How dare you betray us?”

  “Ooh wait. Betrayal? Oh no. Don’t use that word. Unfortunately, you can tell Father all you want,” Celine waved it aside. “You created a big enough mess for me to hide behind. Oh, by the way…” She jumped off the truck, smiling. “I mentioned that you created another monster. Well, apparently, Huston fell while you were messing around. Drifter—“She had to keep herself from laughing. “Drifter has changed. He has become dangerously hostile. Not in an abused animal sort of way, but more in an enthralling social cult type. Insult to injury, you killed Rachel in there, quite possibly Drifter’s closest living friend’s daughter. So, congratulations. At this rate, all I’m going to have to do is watch.”

  Inch by inch, the cool headed Brink was turning redder and redder by the minute. Steady fingers turned into mesh and his legs knocked together. But, he kept strong. “What can the Drifter or…anyone do to me?”

  Celine sighed. This was just like her little brother. Always thought things way out of his league, but never thought it through. Proving himself was the only real reason he did anything. Now, look at him. She touched his face with her palm. “People can bring down the sky, Phillip.”

  Brink knew that he set off a series of events. They couldn’t be stopped. The Dusk Territories were already a very volatile place. He just lit the fuse, again. “Celine…I—“

  “There’s no need to explain. We all know that you wanted to lock up the truth as much as anyone else did. We just can’t. Conjurer, Father, you all underestimates people who want the truth. It was going to get out. It’s the people that try to hold the key that ends up locking themselves in. That begs a question. Did they really have the key in the first place?”

  She could do nothing aside from shaking her head. From this point on, the world’s wounds would crack. No. The world was going to burn now. Maybe, it was always burning and they hadn’t realized it.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “We took the world in our hands when we chose to destroy it.” Celine wrapped her cloaked around her skinny body. “Someone has to keep it safe.”

  Someone will have to, she told herself. The next phase is going to be far worse than the opening bell.

  Epilogue

  Exit

  Corporal David Wyatt Graham was dead.

  At least, the person was.

  What was left was a shell of a person, bullet holes riddled in his contorted body. His mind was hardly his own anymore. He held memories that he didn’t truly have and feelings that no longer mattered. What was left wasn’t a man. What was left was a mission on two legs. Pain no longer mattered. There were things left unfulfilled. His heart didn’t want it, it wasn’t a desire. One word kept this fragment going. It wasn’t life, it wasn’t the truth. No. None of that mattered. All that mattered was revenge.