Mueler was now close enough for Trennon to murder, an impulse Trennon was currently quarreling with. “Lieutenant Raymses, what in the hell are you playing at over here?” said Mueler, bellowing his rage. “You have your orders, man, now get to work!”
Trennon watched the facial hair above his portly mouth jiggle. The damn children’s song flooded his mind again. “Guess I don’t see it the same way as you, Mueler,” he said. Raymses turned his back to the lieutenant and called for one of his men to administer orders. He knew the act would piss Mueler off, and he was right.
Trennon could almost feel Mueler spittle as he roared at him. “These people are monsters! It’s our duty to end their lives, for our country’s safety and our future. Are you too blind to see that? And don’t turn your back on me, you son of a bitch! I asked you a question. What the hell are you playing at, man?”
Trennon ignored him. He knew he was not a son of a bitch. He was a lot of other things, but not that. Even if he was, he sure wasn’t going to take offense to it from Lieutenant Kiss-Ass. Still there was that damn blasted song bouncing around in his skull. His cheek twitched as he addressed one of his men. “Williams, fan out and secure the area. I want you to take the next six blocks or so, working your way toward the center of town. Return fire if you must, but no women and children. You got me, soldier?”
“Sir, yes, sir!” Williams saluted before turning to take the men out. Trennon watched them go. They were good men– misguided as he was, but good men just the same. At least they would follow orders. Perhaps they would keep their souls tonight. Trennon knew he was damned already. His cheek twitched again. Sweet hell, is Mueler still talking? Trennon sighed as he turned back around.
“. . .that I will have your rank for this insubordination. Wait until high command hears that you have blatantly changed your orders as you saw fit and then– ”
“Shut up,” said Trennon, not hiding his disgust.
Some of Mueler’s men nearly gasped at Trennon’s response. “What the hell did you say to me Raymses?” barked Mueler.
Trennon took on the tone of an annoyed schoolteacher. “I said shut up, Mueler. Are you a fat and deaf crap sack?”
“Don’t make this any harder on yourself, lieutenant. I am warning you,” chided Mueler.
“What, you plan on kissing my ass too, Mueler? You keep those butt-loving smootchers the hell away from me. God, I hope there is at least one man among yours that sees you how I see you.”
Lieutenant Mueler clenched the rifle at his side. Trennon could see his knuckles growing white. Mine used to do that too, he thought. It was then that Mueler’s eyes looked as if they would bulge out of his head at any second. It was sickly funny to Trennon as further explosions thundered in the distance. “Now you’ve stepped over the line, Raymses! I could kill you for that! You dare to– ”
A smile rose on Trennon, along with a gleam in his eye as he gladly interrupted Mueler. “Oh, you can try if you like, though something tells me your lack of a spine will keep you from it. Besides, you seem to prefer easy, unarmed targets. Speaking of which, only a brown-nosed crap sack such as you could take pride in that. You are turning out to be more yellow than even I had pegged you for,” said Trennon as his real eye and blue replacement eye bore coldly into Mueler. There was a burst of energy some 20 feet away. Mueler and his men flinched as Raymses moved not at all.
Mueler grinned triumphantly. “It’s called following orders, Raymses, something you should have considered moments ago.” Mueler then motioned casually with the wave of his hand. “Take him into custody. I am relieving you of duty, Lieutenant Raymses.” Two of Mueler’s boys advanced on Trennon. Trennon remained unmoving, his face offering nothing but darkness.
As the first soldier reached Trennon, he prodded the man with the end of his rifle. It was a gesture to turn around, and Trennon obliged. As he turned, he completed the circle, coming back around to knock the rifle away from his back. The knuckles of his free hand struck the surprised soldier in the neck, the metal easily crushing the windpipe it found. The man fought his inevitable death as he fell to his knees, clenching at his throat in despair.
As the first soldier fell, the second attempted to strike Trennon in the temple with the butt of his rifle. Trennon sidestepped the attack, driving his foot into the side of the soldier’s knee. There was a crunching noise as the soldier wailed in pain, dropping his rifle. As he stumbled, Trennon grabbed his hair. “There you go, son. Unlike your friend, you may just have a chance to learn from your own idiocy. Think about that.” With that he struck him in his jaw, clearly breaking it and sending the man into swift unconsciousness.
Mueler and his remaining men flinched at the display. Recovering, the soldiers swarmed Trennon, weapons trained on him. Two of the soldiers grabbed Trennon’s hands and pulled them behind his back as another bound Trennon while Mueler looked at him with scorn. “I have waited for this day, Raymses. You are not fit to carry the glory and word of Thorne. I will watch you hang for this treason.”
“No, you won’t,” said Trennon darkly.
Mueler scoffed. “Raymses, if you think your heinous actions are not worthy of a death sentence then it is you who are stupid.”
“No,” said Trennon smugly. “What I mean is that what you will see is my hands clasp around your throat and my smile as I squeeze the useless life from your body.”
Mueler did his best to stifle the shudder that wanted to cover his body. “Take him from my sight.”
“See you soon, big boy,” called out Trennon as he was taken away.
Trennon was led toward the outskirts of town. There would be no trial for this kind of treachery. That he knew without a shadow of a doubt. Even so, he longer cared. There is nothing to justify this. Men, women and children, killed in their beds, killed running scared and defenseless in the streets. Well not anymore, not from me. I have already given up enough of my soul for Ralick and for Thorne. I will give no more. Live or die, the time has come to make a stand.
With one smooth motion, Trennon Raymses broke free of his bonds. His captors, caught off guard as they were, were unprepared for such strength. With what speed he had, Trennon clenched his fingers on the back of both of their helmets, and sent their heads crashing into one another. The armor of the soldiers’ helmets collapsed under the force, as did their skulls. They dropped easily to the street. Trennon knelt between their twitching bodies, taking up one of their rifles. Thus armed, the former Lieutenant of Thorne now weighed his options.
I am alone in a dying town, and I am now an enemy of everyone. I have nowhere to go and will probably not live to see the end of this night. Perhaps I deserve nothing but death. But if I am to die, I will do what is right until I am dead. And I certainly won’t go alone.
Trennon Raymses smiled as he darted down the blood-filled streets. The teapot song came back to his head as he caught the trail of his quarry.
{37}
Serra Landring busied herself with the survival of Bannar’s inhabitants. Currently, she was assisting people away from the enemy soldiers enfolding her town. Hungry blue bolts tore into those around her, sending men and women tumbling into the streets. Serra was surprised by the fact that she was no longer afraid. That fear was overwhelmed by the urgency of duty and survival.
Serra had traversed through the artillery safely to find her parents alive and well at home. Unfortunately, the three of them had been separated in the streets when the shooting had started. There were far too many people scrambling for their lives for any semblance of order. Serra had done her best to keep up, but it was no use. She accepted that she had to keep her head about her and have faith if she was to see them again.
Another explosion rocked the ground near Serra. She ran toward it, frantically looking for any signs of life in those felled by the blast but found none. An additional explosion knocked Serra off her feet, dazing her. Fighting the fog in her head and the ringing of her ears, she tried to reclaim her wits. She could see a small wave of the tow
n guard taking up arms against a squad of approaching Thorne soldiers. With the numbers so lopsided, Serra knew Bannar’s defenders were only buying time with their lives.
Serra put her hands beneath, her trying to find her feet again, cursing the dizziness that befuddled her. The screams that filled the streets were enough to hasten her recovery. Serra was then startled as a pair of hands lifted her to her feet. She focused her eyes on the voice that cut through the disarray.
“Serra, are you hurt?”
Serra’s eyes widened. “Vonack?”
Vonack was looking Serra over for injury. When he was convinced of her well being, he took her by the hand. “We’ve gotta get out of here, fast,” he said. The severity of his eyes and the genuine concern in his voice surprised Serra.
“Where are we heading?” she asked.
Vonack put one of her arms over his shoulders. “Don’t know, don’t care, Serra, as long as it’s not here. You’re sure that you’re okay?”
Serra nodded. “I’ll be fine. Let’s just keep going,” she said. Vonack squeezed her hand and lead her on. Serra’s steps became more solid as they plunged into the chaos. For the moment, all they could do was go with the flow of the crowd and keep pace. Serra looked to her right as Vonack urged her on. Neither one saw the body of the young Ro’Nihn as it was thrown in their path. The body crashed to the street and both tripped over the mass of dead weight. Serra almost hit her head but had been quick enough to catch herself without harm. The same could not be said of the man laying dead beside her.
Vonack rose to his feet quickly, returning to Serra as she examined the fallen Ro’Nihn. “He’s dead Serra, we gotta keep–” Whatever Vonack had intended to say was stifled. Serra looked up to see a large metallic hand clamped around his neck, robbing Vonack of his breath. The man tormenting Vonack smiled with ghastly teeth and relish as his bristled face revealed his enjoyment. Both his real and red replacement eye shimmered coldly as he slowly killed his victim.
“Vonack!” Serra got to her feet and rushed to the young man’s aid. She did not make it far before the metal man’s free hand found her throat as well. Immediately, she was robbed of her ability to breathe by the strength of that grip. It only took another second before she and Vonack were lifted off the ground. The more they suffered, the more their tormentor seemed to delight in it.
“Well what do we have here? Stragglers eh?” he said, looking at each of their faces in turn. Serra could feel his oppressive breath upon her as he smelled her hair. She struck at his arm with all her strength but knew that she was hurting herself more than she was harming him. The edges of her sight then began to fade to white. She knew that in seconds she would be unconscious and likely dead. She prayed that her parents had gotten away safely.
For Serra, everything became a blur. Vonack’s grip began to slacken at the fingers around his throat as Serra missed her last attempt to kick her tormenter. She knew that he could have killed them in an instant, but he was savoring their despair. His red eye bore into her as he smiled at her last moments. “Well precious, I’d say you've hit the end of the line.” He spat at the ground between them. “I’m sure I’m doing you two a favor, believe me. But even if I’m not, you’ll be happy to know, I’m still enjoying this.”
Serra’s back arched as her eyes set upon the night sky. All the stars blurred as time slowed for her dulling sense. Before her vision fully faded, Serra saw two small hands on the monster’s shoulders as a pair of legs leapfrogged over his head. As they cleared, those feet came together and both crashed into the face of Serra’s captor. The large man fell back toward the ground as he released his grip. Serra and Vonack fell to the floor gasping for breath as Norryn Ashener finished the motion with a roll that brought him back to his feet.
Spitting out blood, Janzen coursed with pain and rage as he attempted to rise again. Cursing at the little runt before him, he brought himself to one knee. Norryn however, was ready for him and the soldier from Thorne never got out of his kneeling position. What happened next was something that Janzen would not discuss for as long as he lived.
Rushing at his opponent, Norryn placed his left foot onto the bent knee of Janzen, lifting himself from the ground. As he rose into the air, Norryn’s right knee buried into the side of Janzen’s face, sending the large man backwards for a second time. The boy completed the motion by guiding his shin across his enemy’s face as he fell onto the ground. Norryn ended up above Janzen as he slid and regained his feet. Checking to make sure the metal man was incapacitated, Norryn turned his attention to Vonack and Serra.
Albeit shaken up, Serra and Vonack appeared to be fine. Norryn checked both and was satisfied that neither had sustained any serious injury to their necks. He gave them both a final look over as he helped them to their feet. “Are you both okay?”
Serra’s breathing had almost returned to normal as she spoke. She rubbed at her neck as she smiled at her friend. “Yeah, I’ll be fine,” she said before hugging him firmly. Serra felt safe for the moment and overjoyed that Norryn was still alive. “Thank you.”
Norryn hugged her back as he turned his eyes to Vonack. “And how about you?”
Vonack stared daggers at the ground. He was red in the face and Norryn could tell that his pride was more hurt than any damage to his body. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He gritted his teeth and what he said next took more strength than he thought he contained. He met Norryn’s gaze as best he could, saying only one word before looking back to the ground. “Thanks.”
Norryn surveyed the street as he replied. “You don’t have to thank me, Vonack,” he replied as he released Serra and put a hand on Vonack’s arm. “I’m the one that needs to thank you. I know that the only thing on your mind was keeping Serra safe. You did what you did to protect only her and showed me the person I knew you to truly be.”
Vonack was indeed surprised at Norryn’s words. Trying to hide how uncomfortable he was, Vonack moved his attention to the unconscious man a few feet away. “So, what in all hells is that?”
Norryn stared down in silence for a moment. “I don’t know, but he was human once. And I’m willing to bet he will not be happy when he comes around. We should go.”
Serra’s neck ached in remembrance. “Well whatever he is or was, he’s got a grip. I’ll tell you that much.”
Vonack nodded his assent. “Yeah, I’ll second that.”
Norryn looked down at the unconscious soldier. Something had bothered him about the fallen man. It went beyond the fact that this person was more of a machine than man. Something again ate away at his better judgment, telling him that there was something he was not seeing. He walked over to where the man laid, still unconscious to the world. Dropping to his knees, Norryn touched one of his enemy’s metallic limbs.
Coldness met his flesh as well as a familiarity that eluded the young man. That touch is a sensation I have vaguely felt before. The deadness of nothing mingled with life. It has its own bizarre energy, I wasn’t paying attention last time. There had been so much going on. I didn’t even give it a second thought. But the last time I felt this sensation was . . . no. Norryn rose to his feet and looked at the two behind him. No, it can’t be. A sudden realization dawned on the young boy, shrouding his soul in a newfound sense of dread. His mind filled with an array of puzzle pieces coming together and the trepidation that came with such a discovery.
“Serra, Vonack, we must leave at once,” said Norryn as he offered his hand to Serra.
Serra picked up quickly on the newfound dread within her best friend. “Norryn, what is it?”
The look on his face as he spoke startled her. “I will have to tell you later, Serra. Now come on!” Norryn sped on with Serra in tow. Vonack was not far behind them.
As soon as they were gone, Janzen opened his eyes. His face stung but the need for revenge overshadowed any pain. Spitting blood, he wiped his lips with his upper arm. Rage coursed equally through metal and flesh. Rising to his feet, Janzen took steps to where his rifle sat
forgotten in the ashes of the street. Taking it in hand, he turned his attention to Bannar’s Gate. Accursed little bastard! By everything that is within me, I shall have your life by the end of this night! Janzen ventured on, becoming a specter in the night.
{38}
Norryn led Serra and Vonack safely through the besieged streets of Bannar. Using his acute senses and his perception of human emotions, Norryn guided them undetected through the assault. Along the way, the trio had acquired a large contingent of survivors. In the presence of Bannar’s heir, none asked questions about their intended destination. In the distance, the sound of Thorne’s war machine etched nearer. As the seconds passed, the impending doom grew deeper and more inevitable.
Serra was growing increasingly worried at Norryn’s urgency. To her surprise, she could feel his emotions for a change and what she felt only compounded her concern. Something had placed her friend off guard, filling him with peril. Not knowing what it was drove Serra to fits, for she could do nothing to help Norryn in his time of need.
Finally, Norryn stopped before a meat shop. Glancing down both sides of the street, he made his way to the side of the shop where a small monument resided. Looking over it, Norryn reached behind it, searching for something with his hand. For a long moment, his eyes were intent as he explored before finally lighting up again. There was an audible click as Norryn took a step back.
Serra watched as the monument shook on its foundation. In a few sure seconds, the monument moved to the right, revealing a small entry way and ladder leading below. When the movement stopped, Norryn quickly motioned to the crowd as he pointed downwards. At last, Norryn’s plan came to fruition and those in tow expressed their relief.
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