Valkeryn 2: The Dark Lands (22 page)

Becky’s words continued to float up between her knees. ‘I always thought humans were supposed to be the bad ones. These things are worse, so much worse.’

Edward sat back. ‘We didn’t invent cruelty, and obviously we don’t have a monopoly on it. In fact, there’s a proven relationship between intelligence and organized warfare. Humans, and obviously non-humans, don’t seem to stop killing the smarter or more enlightened they get. We… they… just get better at it.’

Becky moaned, and sniffed. ‘They put something horrible in the army woman’s ear.’

Edward ignored her and let his mind turn over the interaction they had with the Panterran queen. ‘They don’t want us, but they definitely want something.’

Becky’s head rocked from side to side. ‘Well, if they don’t want us, why don’t they let us go?’

‘Hmm, I don’t think they have what they want just yet, so…’

Her head came up with her face twisted in anger. ‘Well, how about finding out what they want, so we can give it to them, and then get the hell out of here?’

Edward put his finger to his lips. ‘Shush.’ He turned his head. ‘Listen.’ There came a clank of steel bolts being drawn back, and heavy footsteps on the stones outside of their cell. Becky scooted over, and huddled up beside him. She buried her face in his shoulder

‘Don’t let them put anything in my ear.’

‘I won’t.’ He reached up a hand, hesitated for a second, before lowering it to stroke her hair. ‘It’ll be okay.’

Two huge silhouettes appeared in the doorway, luminous green eyes burning out of the darkness. A Panterran also arrived to stand at the bars studying Edward and Becky for a few moments. A few words from the smaller creature and the huge beasts stood aside to reveal a second smaller figure behind them. The door was unlocked, pulled open, and the figure pushed in. The gate was closed once more.

The new figure stood just inside the cell. Outside the bars, the Lygon departed, leaving the single Panterran.

The Panterran laughed. ‘Meet your new subjects… your majesty.’ The hissing laugh continued to float in the air even after the goblin-like creature turned away and disappeared into the darkness.

Edward got slowly to his feet. The figure still hadn’t moved, but Edward had the distinct impression they were being thoroughly scrutinised. The head lifted a fraction, and twin silver eyes shone out from under the hood – definitely not human then, Edward thought.

Edward cleared his throat. ‘Hello.’

‘Man-kind.’ The voice was soft, feminine.

Edward nodded. ‘Yes, we’re human… mankind.’

The figure slowly reached up to the hood, and slid it back from its head. Behind him Becky gasped, and even Edward couldn’t stop himself sucking in his breath.

‘Wow.’ He shook his head. ‘I mean…’ Edward’s mouth opened and closed for a moment and then he simply stared. The word beautiful came to mind. Where the Panterran and Lygon looked exactly as they behaved – brutish, cruel, even evil, this creature was the definition of regal beauty.

Edward felt his heart race. The figure was only a little taller than they were, and its shape was roughly human, but instead of a human face, there was the visage of a wolf. Large ice-blue eyes watched them with an unblinking level gaze.

He noticed that its hands were tied. ‘I think it, she, is a prisoner like us.’

She held them out. Edward went to take a step, but Becky grabbed him. ‘No, don’t free it. It’s not human. We don’t know what it will do. I mean, look at it.’

The creature turned its shining glare on her. She held out her hands again. ‘I mean you no harm. I am as much a prisoner as you are.’

‘She can speak.’ Edward pulled out of Becky’s grip. ‘I think I can trust you… I hope.’ He took the creature’s hands, working quickly at the knots. While he worked, he looked into her face, marveling at the features. The skin was covered in an almost imperceptible silver hair, and the eyes were large and luminous, a startling icy blue. In that beauty there was intelligence, strength and determination. He finished and stepped back.

‘Who are you?’ The newcomer continued to rub her wrists.

Edward swallowed. ‘Ah, well, my name is Edward Lim. My friend here is Becky, Rebecca Matthews, and we are from Earth. Well, I mean from right here really, but just from another time, we came…’

‘I know where you came from. What I want to know is why did you come here?’

‘We’re looking for our friend. He came through months ago.’ Edward said quickly.

‘Yes?’ The penetrating eyes bored into him, but the stare had hardened.

‘His name is…’

She cut him off. ‘His name is Arn.’

Edward leapt forward. ‘Arn, yes, Arnold Singer, That’s right. He’s our friend. Have you seen him? Where is he?’

The creature’s eyes narrowed, and slid to Becky, looking over her form. ‘And what is your rela
tionship… with the Arnoddr?’

*

Hanson ran hard, the remaining eight members of his team keeping pace with him, regardless of their injuries. They had fought for hours, and the bodies of the monstrous creatures had piled up around them, and amongst them, like writhing hills of bone and muscle.

Their choice of armaments had been perfect for the larger Lygon creatures. The armor-piercing rounds had punched dinner plate-sized holes through the thick armor they wore, and did the same to the hugely muscled bodies underneath. Headshots were extremely satisfying.

The problem was the smaller Panterran. The heavy uranium tipped bullets were overkill, blowing their bodies into a million fragments. It was a waste of heavy ammunition. For these guys a better weapon would have been a lighter caliber with a greater rounds-per-second deployment – they needed to spray steel hot and fast, metal-storm style.

The team had fought hard – load-n-fire, load-n-fire, on and on for hours. Up close, K-bars were wielded with great effectiveness, and he had seen men and women fight on with several arrows sticking from their bodies. But the creature’s numbers wore them down. For every beast they took down, ten more took its place in an endless wave of tooth, claw, and flying weapons.

Standing at the rear of the horde was Briggs, directing them in their attack strategy, like some sort of weird conductor. Her face was slack and emotionless the entire time.  For Hanson, it was if they were fighting themselves.

When Samson had fallen, Hanson knew he had two options: One – fight until the ordinance ran out, and then get torn to shreds. Or two – fall back and secure the distortion vortex.

He hated to cut and run, given Teacher would need to come through here if they successfully found the boy and the diamond. But these monsters had the home ground advantage, the numerical advantage, and an on-the-ground military leader that knew every tactic the Deltas had. Hanson looked towards the sky – dark now. Fighting them during the day was difficult. Fighting them in the dark, when the night-time incursions would commence in earnest, would be suicide.

He decided. ‘We’re falling back to the gateway; double time.’

The Delta team fired as they withdrew, and Hanson pumped a few grenades into the seething mass as he extracted himself from the fighting. 

He could run all day and night if need be. He just hoped his pursuers would tire, or he could get some distance between them. The team sprinted on, turning and firing, turning and firing. He pressed the comm. button at his ear.

Time to give Teacher the bad news.

*

Dozens of miles away, Teacher and his small squad of Deltas ran on. There was no panic in their stride, just a workable pace that they could maintain for hours. From time to time, Teacher checked a compass, GPS being something that was rendered useless since the satellites hadn’t been in orbit for hundreds of thousands of years.

‘Where are we, boss?’ It was Simms, looking around, as though enjoying the scenery.

Teacher glanced down at the map in his hand. ‘Right now, I reckon, we’re about fifty feet under Lake Michigan. According to Balthazaar’s map, I’d say all the lakes have moved north and coalesced into a single huge inland sea. Must have been some pretty unpleasant geological times – the lands look to have lifted in some areas and fallen in others by many hundreds of feet. Got some tough terrain up ahead. So… stay sharp, fed and watered, and stay moving.’

Simms grunted. ‘What if we get to these Dark Lands, and find that the kid is already dead, or just won’t come with us?’

Teacher swigged from his canteen, and contemplated the question. ‘If he’s dead, hopefully he’s in one piece so we can search his body for the diamond. If he’s alive, better for him if he comes, but as long as we get the diamond, I’m not going to drag him along.’ Teacher slid the canteen back into a pocket. ‘I’m guessing he doesn’t know he can even get back. We do our job and then get the hell out of here.’

‘I heard that.’ Alison Sharp sighted her rifle at an animal that popped from a burrow in the ground. It quickly pulled its head back in as the V-formation of soldiers approached. ‘One question – what happens if the kid is dead and there’s no diamond?’

Teacher shrugged. ‘Then bend over and kiss your ass goodbye, because we’re all as good as dead.’

Sharp laughed. There was a small ping in Teacher’s ear. He raised a hand for silence as he ran.

‘Go.’ It was Hanson, and the man sounded out of breath. Teacher stopped running, and concentrated, the sound was faint as the comms had limited range.

‘Goddammit.’ It was worse than he had expected – the squad was down, and the remaining nine Deltas were on the run. In the background Teacher could hear rounds being expended, and an occasional grenade exploding, but Hanson was cool in his update, as he would have expected from a Spec Ops soldier.

Teacher felt his anger rising.
We underestimated them… again.
Just like the Green Berets, they, we, had come unprepared, he thought. He gritted his teeth to keep from exploding with fury. He knew how Samson would have deployed, he probably would have done the same. They had expected a frontal attack from lumbering giants, but instead, things like deformed children – the Panterran – had overrun them.
We should have listened to the old Wolfen a little more.

Teacher concentrated when Hanson told him there was, “something more”.

‘Give it to me?’ He glared at the ground as the Delta soldier told him about the colonel leading the enemy attack.

‘Jesus, I thought that was what Balthazaar said – not interrogated, but
integrated
.’ Teacher looked at his watch and then the darkening sky. ‘Leave Briggs. Do not try to rescue her or any of the other missing Deltas. If they could turn her, then assume the others are compromised. This means the enemy will now know where we came through.’ Teacher’s jaws clenched as his mind worked.

‘Okay, listen up soldier, here are your orders. Get to the gateway. Send one of your team through to give them a heads up… and get some more men and more kit. You remaining Deltas are to deploy at the cave entrance. You must be our shield – nothing must pass, hold the line. Clear?’

‘Fight or die.’ Hanson responded.

‘Damn straight.’ Teacher grunted. ‘Good luck, and hopefully, see you soon.’ He disconnected the call.

Teacher looked at his own team.  Their faces were grim.

He gave them a half smile. ‘You heard. Not a good day for the away team. We are now on our own. Our mission directives are unchanged – we grab the diamond, and Singer if possible. Then we get the freakin hell out of here.’ His smile dropped. ‘One extra complication; Briggs has been corrupted, and we can assume anyone else taken by the enemy will also be corrupted.’ He nodded to each. ‘Shoot first, ask questions later… no prisoners.’

‘HUA!’

‘We’re not here on holiday, so let’s lift the game.’ The six Deltas began to run, and this time their pa
ce was fast and
furious.

*

Balrog and Unsaur stood at the foot of the small mountain of dirt and debris. It had taken them many hours of crossing the wasteland desert before they had sighted what they thought was a small volcano.

Balrog grunted and nudged his companion forward. Several small scout teams of Lygon warriors had earlier been sent out into the desert, each travelling in different directions, to track down where the Man-Kind had first appeared. They didn’t know yet about Mogahrr capturing Briggs, or that many of the soldiers had already been overrun. But after many, many hours, they had found what they were seeking. The smell of Man-Kind lingered here, and other smells that excited their curiosity.

The climb was difficult as the debris was loose and slid beneath their enormous feet. At the top, they looked down into the dark pit before them, and even though their eyes were well adapted for nocturnal life, they both found it difficult to pick out anything.

Unsaur sniffed deeply. ‘Something lives in here.’ His huge hand went his belt where a massive hammer was tied.

Balrog snorted. ‘If it chooses to get in our way, then something will also die in here.’ He pushed Unsaur, causing him to slide into the pit. ‘If it is the door to the home of Man-Kind, then we will be richly rewarded… and we can feast as well.’

Together they scrambled down towards the dark entrance, folding themselves into the rift in the rocks and then having to get down on all fours in the cramped tunnel. Unsaur blinked and allowed his eyes to adjust to the gloom. Further away from the tunnel opening it was an inky black. He roared,
the sound travelling in a wave down the length of the tunnel, echoing into the distance for many miles. The deafening sound was meant as a warning, and to bolster his own courage.

‘Move it.’ Balrog shoved him in the back, and together they crawled along in the dark.

After a time, Unsaur stopped, and allowed Balrog to come up behind him.

‘Why have you stopped?’

Unsaur half turned. ‘Listen.’

They silenced their breathing, concentrating on the darkness. There was silence, then a drip of water, the rush of air as it moved past them, and the something else, faint in the distance… or was it behind them.

Unsaur couldn’t help the growl growing in his chest. ‘Something moves close by. It laughs at us.’

Balrog swung around, his mace now in his hand. He glared back behind him, though what he saw was little more than a sheet of darkness. He listened intently for a while.

‘There is nothing.’ He turned back to nudge his companion. ‘Keep moving, I feel we are close.’

Unsaur roared again, the sound bouncing away from them, and giving him some comfort. He continued on for a few moments and then stopped and frowned. 

‘Something just ahead.’

*

‘You hear that?’ Jim J Morgan tilted his head and frowned. He and Leo Anderson, along with four of Briggs’ military guards, were stationed in the large room just outside the Fermilab’s particle accelerator tunnel. Leo Anderson half turned and listened for a few seconds, and then shook his head.

‘Forget about it – this thing sounds like an express train on the best of days.’ The men lounged against walls, played poker or sat resting, eyes closed. They had been selected based on them having no amalgam fillings and no pins or plates in any of their joints. They were also required to leave behind anything metallic – including wristwatches, knives and standard firearms. Instead, their primary defenses were specially designed ceramic-based small-caliber handguns.

They stood outside the four-mile long collider tunnel – the tunnel itself being off limits unless an expedition was planned to the New Zone, as they were now calling it, or one of the scientists needed to check any of the equipment. At this point, nothing was planned, and nothing would be while Colonel Briggs and the team was on-mission. Morgan and Anderson stood on either side of the six-foot wide circular hole that had been cut through the fortified concrete wall weeks before. Even here, the wind howled around them, and anything not tied down was quickly swept towards the grate covering the entrance.