5 Onslaught (18 page)

I
turn to the shooter. It’s Kat. She lowers her rifle and quickly wipes a tear
from her eyes.

Round one goes to the Nephilim.

28

Just
thirty seconds later, a vibration rolls through the ground beneath the base.
The source is distant, but a potent reminder of what is coming, and what might
already be here. I take my telescope and raise it to my eye, focusing on the
distant choke point where the cliffs come together. Smoke and still settling
dust obscure the view.

“What
is it?” Kainda asks.

I
watch a swirl of dust, rising as though something had just sped past.
“Something’s out there.”

“They’re
using the smoke as cover,” she says plainly, then looks at me. “It’s what we
would do.”

Hunters.
With the mine field destroyed and smoke
clouding the air, they’re pouring through the pass and working their way
silently toward us. Unlike the berserkers, the hunters will use strategy and
skill. It’s possible that some will make it through to the trenches.
And if that happens...
One hunter with a sword, in a
trench—it would be a bloodbath.

Get ready,
I think strongly,
but hold your fire.
Gold Alpha—with a little
something extra.

I
hear grunts of understanding from the nearby soldiers as the orders reach them
via Luca. I wait a full minute, while soldiers reload, take aim at a field of
smoke and wait. When the stillness becomes intolerable, I start with the little
something extra. A sudden wind sweeps in from the ocean, catching the smoke and
pulling it back and up like a blanket.

Hunters
emerge from the shroud, still and silent, surprised by the sudden and unwelcome
exposure. They no doubt believe they are about to be cut down. Some must have
seen what happened to the berserkers. Those at the front, hold their ground,
waiting at the razor wire. The rest come in slowly, creeping toward us.

They’re
too close for the tanks, and not far from the first trench. If they can get
past the razor wire, and I’m sure they could, things would get bad, fast.

I
quickly count three thousand men and woman. Though the berserkers outnumbered
them ten to one, this group is far more dangerous.

As
the hunters congest together, somewhere from within the group, a man shouts
out. He’s not speaking any words. It’s more of a punchy, three syllable chant
that the others take up. And when they are done, to my great surprise, the
nearly two thousand hunters inside the base, including Em and Kainda respond
with the same, shouted chant.

“What’s
happening?” I ask in surprise.

“It’s
a challenge,” Em says.
“To combat.
As
Hunters.”

“We
cannot turn them down,” Kainda adds.

“The
hell you can’t,” I say growing angry, and then
do my best
mind
shout,
Gold-Alpha!
Luca
does a good job translating the passion of my command and I hear it in my own
head a second later.

Kainda
turns to me. “It is not honorable. Hunters—”

“We
are not hunters!” I shout. “Not anymore.”

“Someone
must face them!” she shouts back.

I
look to the gathering of hunters, who have taken up a formation and look ready
to spring into action. “Then it will be me.”

I
leap from the wall and am carried up and over the battlefield, soaring past
rows of tanks and entrenched infantry. I land on the near side of the razor
wire, just fifty feet from the enemy. An army’s eyes settle on me. I do my best
to match their gaze, and then say, “There is not one of you who could stand
against me.”

A
grumble works its way through the ranks of hunters, but no one argues. After my
little flight, they all know who I am.

I
decide to lay it on thick. “I have slain your masters.” I motion to the base
behind me. “I have set your brothers and sisters free. And I can do the same
for you. The choice is yours. It has
always
been yours.”

“I
will stand against you,” shouts a man. I cannot see him, but his words seem to
bolster the enemy rank.

These
are hunters, I remind myself. They respect action over words. A demonstration
might help convince them. Sure, I could hit them with the shofar, but I’m not
sure if that will be enough. If they don’t choose the light, they might not
stay in it. I have to give them the chance to choose freely first.
And if that doesn’t work...
They might yet see what I can
do.

I
reach out my hands, directing a surge of wind to snip through the rows of razor
wire. Spreading my hands apart, the wire shifts across the ground, forming a clearing
through the death trap. I don’t really need to use my hands for these things,
but I want to leave no doubt that it’s me doing it. Feeling a little like a
mini-Moses, I walk into the clearing.

“Show
yourself
,” I shout to the hidden man.

There’s
a distant shuffle and murmur as the man walks forward, shoving his fellow
hunters out of the way. As the man approaches, I look at the other hunters in
the group. They’re clutching their weapons, eager to attack.

Then why aren’t they?

Hunters
aren’t known for their teamwork or patience. Why would they wait for a single
man to face me? It’s a fight they all must realize can’t be won. More than
that, why are they not all arguing about who will face
me.
That every hunter thinks he or she is the best hunter is Underworld 101 stuff.
They should all be vying for the chance of killing me, and proving that they
are, in fact, stronger than the chosen vessel of Nephil and are the rightful
recipient of that honor.

The
fact that no one has launched an arrow in my direction shows uncommon
restraint.

Why?
I wonder again.

As
the man reaches the outer fringe, I figure it out, and that split second of
realization saves my life.

Merrill! Now!

“Hello,
Solomon,” the man says, throwing back a cloak that hid his face from view.

The
face of Ninnis glares at me with all the hatred and loathing the spirit of
Nephil can project.

Black
tendrils launch out at me like spears. The first strikes my shoulder, shooting
a lancing pain through my body. In that single instant, I feel the darkness seep
into my body, its barbs latching onto my very soul. I try to resist it, but
it’s like trying to lift a behemoth.

Before
the burden becomes too great, Merrill puts his lips to the mouth of that great
horn and unleashes an ancient battle call that strikes fear into the hearts of
Nephilim, not of physical pain, but because for a moment, they can feel the
disparity of their own existence. As the first sound wave reaches me, the
darkness is repulsed. But it tears out of me, yanking a scream of pain from my lungs.

Ninnis
hisses and launches into the air. The sound hits him, causing black tendrils to
explode in every direction. He shrieks and flails, lashing out and striking
several of his own hunters.

But
they’re not his hunters. Not anymore. All three thousand men and women fall to
the ground, writhing in agony. But it’s not pain they’re feeling, it’s truth.
Those who were kidnapped and broken, like me, Ninnis and Tobias, are
remembering who they
were
for the
first time. Others, who were born in the
underworld
are feeling the weight of their crimes like never before. A shift of color
works its way back through the throng as blood red hair gives way to shades of
black, brown, gray, blond and orange.

This
happens to be one of the situations for which we have no plan in place. I would
have never thought Nephil would risk himself like this, but that was the
brilliance of the plan. Who would see it coming? None of us,
that’s
who. So as my reeling mind tries to center itself, I look up at the writhing
form of Ninnis, a man who was broken, turned into a monster and is now the
vessel of an evil force, and think,
sorry
—and
then—
fire!

When
the first bullet flies, striking Ninnis’s leg, the demon-possessed man flinches
and seems to snap out of his agonized state. The wound drips purple and heals
quickly. With a hiss, he launches himself up and away, carried by frenzied
tendrils. The gunfire chases him for a moment, but it’s clear no one will hit
the man. Still, a tank gunner tracks Ninnis’s retreat toward the valley’s choke
point and fires off a single shot.

The
distant cliff explodes, showering Nephil with debris and knocking him sideways
with the shockwave. He lurches to the side, but then disappears. The attack
won’t injure him. He heals like a Nephilim now. But the lingering sting to his
pride will make him think about exposing himself like this again.

With
the danger momentarily waned, I turn my attention to the hunters. Those that
remember previous lives will also remember their time as a hunter. They won’t
be confused by what has happened, but they will certainly be conflicted by it.
Some of these people have been living in darkness, literal and figurative for
far longer than they lived in the outside world.

One
by one, they stand. I nearly laugh when I see some helping others to their
feet. But will they stay this way? Or will they choose to remain in darkness?

Then
it happens. A single man runs away, his hair turning redder with each step.

Then another.

And another.

And then, no one else.

Let them go,
I think. We have shed enough human
blood for one day.

A
footstep behind me catches my attention. I turn to find Kainda strutting up
confidently. She steps up next to me and addresses the freed hunters. “I am
Kainda, daughter of Ninnis, servant to Thor.”

The
group reacts with a mixture of fear and tension.

“But
I am now free,” she says, quieting the rising talk. “And my master is dead.”

Those
still speaking, fall silent. They have been freed from the bondage of their
hearts and minds, but the threat of physical bondage to their Nephilim masters
still very much exists.

“And
I fight the monster Nephil who controls the form of my father. All of this is
possible because of this man.” She motions to me.

Inwardly,
I’m caught off guard and thinking,
Who
? Me?
But on
the outside, I stand confident and bold. I know what I have to do, even if it
makes me feel uncomfortable. Despite being freed, these people are still
hunters, like Kainda, and Em...and me, despite my previous denial.

“I
am the Last Hunter,” I say loudly. “I am Solomon Ull Vincent, the first and
only Antarctican, leader of the human resistance against the Nephilim, and...
I am your King!
”

To
my surprise, and I’ll admit it, delight, a cheer rises up. It’s just one person
at first—Em, I think—but then it moves through the base behind me and the
hunters before me.

As
a smile spreads on my face, I think,
round
two goes to the human race
, though it nearly didn’t. I glance down to my
shoulder, where the black tendril burrowed into my flesh. There’s no wound, but
I can still feel its lingering effects, and the raw power of its attack. Had
Merrill waited just an instant, the darkness might have claimed me. And if that
happened, all would be lost.

29

Em, Adoni, Zuh,
I think, letting Luca know who I want my
orders to be transmitted to,
split these
hunters between you
.
Get them settled
inside the base. Do your best to explain how we’re organized and how we are
communicating. Put them in defensive units with hunters already among us.

Luca
can send my orders to these new hunters just as easily as everyone else, and
they’ll understand, but they need to be prepared for the mental intrusion.

Em
speaks up from just behind me. She must have already been on her way out.
“Hunters, I am Emilie, daughter of Tobias—”

“The
daughter of Tobias,” a woman hunter says in surprise. She’s tall and slender
with long curly, light brown hair that hangs wildly to her shoulders. She’s
holding a double edged sword that looks like something a Roman centurion would
carry in one hand and a long spear in the other. “Was he not slain by Ninnis,
father
of Kainda?”

Em
frowns and nods. “He was.”

“And
yet you stand beside her?”

I
think I understand the gist of this questioning. In hunter culture, the slaying
of one hunter’s kin by another might result in some sort of blood feud, or at
least a deeper than average hatred.

Em
steps up next to Kainda, who’s at least a foot taller, and looks up at her. “We
are as sisters. The sins of our past, and those of our fathers, are forgotten.
As they are for you, as well.”

To
say the hunters are surprised is an understatement. The news travels quickly
toward the back of the throng. It’s clear the conversation is about to expand
and while I would love to explain the depth of their new found freedom, the
rumbling beneath my feet is a constant reminder that we have no time.

“Hunters!”
I shout. “Time is short. You all know
what is coming. Explanations will come, but only if we survive the coming
battle.”

“And
if we don’t survive?” the woman hunter asks, sheathing her sword.

“Then
you will die nobly, and free,” I tell her.

This
seems to placate the crowd enough for Em and Kainda to get them moving toward
the base. I notice many of the soldiers following the hunters with their
weapons.
Lower your weapons
, I think,
they are with us now
. A moment later,
the soldiers comply.

You’re doing well,
I think to Luca.

This is harder than I thought it would
be,
Luca admits.
Speaking to you is easy. Speaking to more than a hundred thousand other
people is not. I’m getting tired.

Me too,
I tell him. The darkness took its
toll. I’m far more tired than I should be.
But
we must persevere. This will all be over by the time the sun sets again.

Okay,
he replies.

But,
I think,
if you ever
feel like you can’t handle it, or are worried you can’t reach everyone, you let
me know.

I will,
he says.

As
the woman with the Roman sword passes me, she offers a slight bow and pauses.
She glances back toward the valley’s bottleneck. “It won’t be long.” She speaks
perfect English with a Southern California accent.

“I
know,” I tell her.

“We’re
just a small group,” she says. “There are far more—”

“I
have seen,” I say.

“Then
it
was
you in the jungle?” she asks. Before
I can answer, her face becomes serious, but then relieved. “We found Ares.”

I
look at the sword hanging from her waist, and then to the long spear in her
hands. Not Roman, I realize.
Greek.
“He was your master.”

“No
longer...thanks to you.” She offers her hand and I take it, shaking it slowly.
She motions to the hunters filing past. “They call me Deena, but you can call
me Jennifer. I was a roustabout working at McMurdo. Must have been forty years
ago. Don’t remember exactly what happened. Had too much to drink one night,
woke up in the feeder pit. You know how it goes.”

Feeling
a little bit like a politician on the campaign trail, I thank her and start to
pull back my hand. She holds tighter, the calm visage of Jennifer replaced
suddenly by the hard stare of Deena. “Can we trust you?”

I
match her serious gaze and say, “I would die for all of you, or one of you.”

She
holds my eyes for a moment, perhaps judging the sincerity of my words. Then she
lets go of my hand and steps back. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

When
the shaking ground intensifies, I urge her to follow Kainda and Em and she
complies.

As
the last of the hunters walk past, I bring the razor wire back together. I
can’t weld the strands back together, but I bunch and overlap it enough that
the jutting razors entangle and hold the two sides together. Standing at the
front of my army, I look toward the end of the valley. No one yet fills the
gap, but I know they soon will. Nephil will react to being wounded and chased
off with blind rage. On one hand, this benefits us because rage is often absent
strategy. On the other hand, it means they will likely rush our position en
mass, which is the one strategy that is most likely to succeed. If that
happens, the only thing that will slow them down will be the bodies of their
own dead.

I
stand still, listening to the rumbling footsteps. Distant battle horns sound
out. I reach out, feeling the earth and the air. There are so many that I
cannot distinguish a human footfall from a behemoth. It’s all just one giant
force, crushing the land and trampling the jungle.

Five minutes,
I think.
They’ll reach the bottleneck in five minutes.

The
thought was intended for myself, but I hear a soldier in the trench behind me
whisper, “Oh God,” his voice filled with terror. Luca must have transmitted the
timeframe to the entire camp, which is probably good, but the twinge of fear I
felt was also sent to everyone.

Sorry,
Luca’s voice says in my mind. He
sounds small and apologetic, no doubt realizing that my thought wasn’t intended
for public consumption.

Its fine,
I think,
we’re all afraid, and I need to say something about it.
Ready to give a lecture?

I
can feel him smiling.
Ready.

Making
a note to watch the intensity of my personal thoughts, I turn around and face
the base. An army stares back at me.
Men from the trenches,
from the tanks, and the walls.
But there are many more inside the base,
waiting by the choppers, manning artillery and crewing the distant ships
who
need to hear what I have to say, too.

After
taking a moment to collect my thoughts, I project them through Luca, to an
army.

The Nephilim are mankind’s oldest and
most vile enemy. They have ruled us, enslaved us and broken us. Our ancestors
worshiped them as gods and they became immortalized in our history. You know
the eldest of them as Zeus, Odin, Osiris, Enki and so many more names that have
been distorted by time and intention. They seek not just dominion over the
planet, but the extinction of the human race, of whom they are jealous. For it
is we who were given souls that live on after death, it is we who are more
powerful and it is we who are protected by a grand design beyond understanding.

They are large.
Huge.
They inspire fear in all who see them. They attack without hesitation or
remorse, and they delight in pain because they can heal from most any wound.
Some will fly with outstretched wings, others will sting with scorpion tails,
and still others will attack our minds with their own. Our enemies are the
heroes of old, men of renown, and they are to be feared.

But the human race has defeated them in
the past. Long before we had guns, tanks and warships, an army of men stormed
the city of Jericho, a Nephilim stronghold. Using sword, spear and the blast of
horns like the one that just freed three thousand men and women from the
Nephilim’s corrupt grasp, men conquered that city, vanquished the monsters
inside and sent the Nephilim scrambling to the underworld where they have
hidden for thousands of years.

In that time, they have grown stronger,
and they have plotted against us. Their hatred has grown. And now, freed from
the ice, they are once again on the cusp of destroying our world. But once
again, an army unlike anything in the history of mankind has been brought
together. It is
we
who stand in their path now, and it is
we
who will stop them. But this time we will
not simply turn them away and send them back to the underworld. We will destroy
them. We will scour them from the face of the planet. We will end their
soulless existence so that they can never threaten the human race again.

I
pull Whipsnap from my belt and hold the now iconic weapon over my head, letting
out a battle cry, both mental and physical.

As
my army shouts back—including the cresties—charged and ready to fight, a rumble
rolls beneath my feet so strong that I know the enemy is just seconds away from
filling the bottleneck.

Prepare yourselves
, I think, and then give the order that
sets everything in motion.
Jericho-Alpha.