I apologize for my lateness. The weekend has been extremely hectic (think a Tae Kwon-Do tournament that not only lasted all day Saturday, but had the combined effect of wiping me out entirely; then church the following day. I can't even remember what happened Friday).
I shall post the next chapter either tonight, or tomorrow morning. Hopefully tonight.
Cool. Are you sure that you're not just building more tension by making us wait longer?
I guarantee that is a useful side effect only.
Spoiler Alert!
It was deadly silent in the hall. Without the soulborg furnace above them, the temperature dropped quickly. A few of the refugees procured an odd assortment of lights – ranging from small soulborg devices to flickering lanterns – to light the way. Slowly and quietly, Mike led Carr and the refugees down the hall. Left, right, left, right, left, he repeated to himself over and over. They couldn’t afford to take a wrong turn. One way led to the front doors, but the other led to a dead-end. If they took a wrong turn, they would have to backtrack and waste valuable time.
Time. How much of his hour had gone by? Surely they had been down here longer than that. Would Warden wait? He had said he wouldn’t, and Mike believed him. And yet… surely he wouldn’t just abandon them? Right, left, right, left. They came to a fork, and Mike turned right. He could see the final left turn up ahead. Beyond that were the doors. They were nearly there.
A crash sounded behind them. They all froze in their tracks, listening. Judging by the sounds coming from the room they had left, the Infected had finally broken down the door. They had to move quickly. It wouldn’t take the Infected long to find the other door and come after them.
Mike took the left turn and then turned around so that he could keep an eye on the refugees. He remained in front of them, backpedaling down the hall, watching, waiting for any sign of pursuit. Another crash echoed behind them. Had the Infected found the door? Were they perhaps already in the hall?
Mike faced forwards again, and came to an abrupt halt. No!
Before him rose a wall of rubble. The way out was blocked.
A second later Mike realized that couldn’t be right. There was no rubble in this hallway; the scans would have shown it. And the hallway should be wider, at least twice of what it was. Mike turned on the spot, looking at the walls. And then he felt a terrible sinking in his stomach. He had taken a wrong turn. It was left, right, not right, left. Now they were stuck at the dead-end, with the Infected closing in behind them. They couldn’t turn back now.
Mike quickly went over the map of the building in his head. There was only one option left. Half way back down the hall was a small side door. It had been decommissioned and sealed off before the apocalypse, but there was a chance they could get through it. Mike hadn’t chosen it because they would have to make a lot of noise to remove the barricades, and that would only attract the Infected. Besides, the passage beyond it was little more than a service entrance, small and narrow. They would only be able to go through it one at a time.
“I took a wrong turn,” Mike whispered to Carr so that the refugees wouldn’t hear. “If we backtrack, there’s a side door that we can use, but it’s sealed. We’ll have to break it open first.”
Carr gave Mike an angry, but completely silent, glance, before waving the refugees back. Slowly, the small crowd began to turn and make its way back down the hall, Mike and Kara bringing up the rear.
It was at that time, with a terrible slithering of scales on metal, that a sea of vipers swam into view from around the corner. For a second, refugees and Infected stared at each other. Then the vipers charged, hissing madly.
Spoiler Alert!
Those of the refugees that had guns opened fire. The first ranks of vipers started to fall immediately, but it was no use; more kept pouring into the hall.
“Get to the door!” Mike yelled at Carr. “We have to get to the door!”
Carr nodded and began shouting his own instructions. The only problem was that the door, their only way out, was now blocked by a sea of vipers. And then their problems got worse.
With a shuddering of metal and a deafening roar, something large turned the corner at the end of the hallway. It took Mike a moment to realize what it was, as it waded through the vipers towards them. It was difficult to tell due to the thick carapace that surrounded it, but he soon saw the shape, and knew what was coming.
“Get back!” he yelled at those closest to the door. “Get back – Brunak is behind you!”
It was too late. Brunak reached the first of the refugees, and with sudden speed, swung his fists into them. Ribs and skulls were smashed instantly. Brunak, roaring with bloodlust, turned on the spot, swinging his arms at anything that moved, even the vipers surrounding him. This had several effects at once.
The refugees, realizing that Brunak was attacking them, surged backwards quickly, with the result that Mike was caught in the sudden movement and knocked to the floor. At the same time, the vipers drew back, as whatever shred of self-preservation was left in them told them to stay out of Brunak’s way. And finally, as Mike lay on the floor trying to recover his breath, he heard a familiar voice by his side, a voice he hadn’t heard for a month…
“Mike? Is that you?”
Mike’s head whipped around, and he finally saw the person he had thought about every day since escaping.
“Mother!!”
“Mike!” she cried. They pushed through the struggling crowd toward each other, finally meeting in a tight hug.
Mike didn’t care that there were infected vipers close by. He didn’t care that they were surrounded by refugees jostling them. He didn’t care that Brunak was merely feet away, slaughtering anything within reach. All he cared about was keeping his mother close. He hugged her tighter, feeling with certainty that if he loosened his grip, if he let her go, she would be gone, only a dream.
Spoiler Alert!
Mike was brought back to the present situation by a cry from Carr. It contained no words. It was simply a cry, a feral battle-shout. It was a sound that Mike knew the meaning of. He turned around just in time to see Carr charging Brunak.
As if in slow motion, Mike saw Brunak notice Carr, and turn around to face him. Carr drew his arm back, and with all his strength, drove his sword at Brunak’s chest.
Mike saw the blade glimmer in the half-light just before it reached Brunak. That weapon had slain countless orcs. It had battled the Marro legions and won. When the time had come, it alone has penetrated the armor of Deathwalker 8000. It had secured countless essential victories for the alliance.
But it snapped in two like a match when it met Brunak’s armored carapace.
Nothing but shock registered on Carr’s face as he watched the pieces of his weapon fall to the floor. He stood there, mouth slightly open, until Brunak’s fist crashed into him. Carr slammed into the wall and fell down it, sagging limply on the floor.
Mike expected to feel disbelief. This was Carr, the warrior that had been here since the beginning. Instead, he felt only despair. Their best chance for survival had just been knocked aside like old hay. This was the end.
Mike still held his mother’s hand. Through the contact, he felt a sudden calm. He knew this was the end. But it was an end he could face. He had set out to find his mother, and he had done so. His mission was over. Brunak came closer with every swing of his powerful arms, and Mike watched him calmly, standing straight beside his mother. With her by his side, he would know that she was with him, wherever he went. He had succeeded, no matter what happened now. And after all, that was all that mattered.
Just as Mike reached this conclusion, he saw Kara out of the corner of his eye. A small group of vipers had managed to sneak past Brunak and were attacking the refugees. Kara had flown at them, injuries and all, striking them with the spear of Gerda. However, fighting was not her strongest point. Even as Mike watched, one of the vipers caught her with its tail, causing her to fall to the ground, holding her arm and grimacing in pain.
Mike’s calmness faltered. Beside him, his mother stooped, and pulled a gun from the lifeless hand of one of the fallen. More vipers had pushed past Brunak, and she opened fire on them, trying to cut them down before they got too close. But she was outmatched. There were too many vipers, and not enough time.
Mike glanced between Kara and his mother. They were still fighting. Mike realized they would probably fight until the end. The end. But his end had come, hadn’t it? Hadn’t he found his mother? Wasn’t his mission over?
Yes. His mission had ended. But theirs hadn’t. They still had to get out. They still had to survive. Mike remembered, as if from a partially-remembered dream, Kara’s words: “We can get out of this,” she had said, “both of us. We just need to keep going.” Mike looked up, and saw Brunak bearing down on them. He wouldn’t be the one to prove Kara wrong.
Due to the lateness of this chapter:
Next chapter coming later today. Prepare for the epic conclusion!
I guess that will teach me to post twice in one day. I thought about posting in the afternoon and said, 'no... it's too early.' After which I promptly forgot about it. On that confidence-draining note, I present to you the final chapter:
Spoiler Alert!
With sudden clarity, Mike assessed the situation. They had to get to the door to get out, and for that to happen, Brunak would have to move backwards at least six feet, if not more. The vipers were mostly being held back by Brunak’s indiscriminating attacks, but if he fell, they would charge the refugees instantly. That left only one option.
Mike had to distract Brunak, and direct him away from the door.
Mike’s M4 Rifle had been knocked from his hands when he fell, and it was now nowhere to be seen. Beside him, Mike’s mother had been joined by two more armed refugees, who were together holding at bay the vipers that had gotten past Brunak. On the other side of the hall, Kara had similarly been rescued by the orc refugee, who was now hacking and slashing at the vipers with disturbing enthusiasm.
Making a sudden decision, Mike sprinted to the side of Brunak, dodging blows until he reached the place where Carr lay, slumped and broken against the wall.
Simply by the way he lay, Mike knew that several of Carr’s ribs were broken. Blood coated his mouth as he looked at Mike, his breath coming in irregular, painful breaths. “I’m… sorry,” he gasped. “I… shouldn’t have—”
“It’s alright,” Mike said, laying a hand on Carr’s shoulder. “You’re going to make it out of this. We all are. I just need to borrow your sword.”
Carr looked at him blankly for a moment. “Take it,” he coughed. “I doubt… it will do… anyone any good… anymore.”
“Just sit tight,” Mike said. “We can get out of this. All of us.” He retrieved Carr’s shattered sword from where it lay on the ground. The hilt still held most of the blade, the tip jagged and uneven. It now resembled a short-sword more than anything else. Mike gripped the hilt tightly, looked one last time at Carr’s face, and then turned to face Brunak.
Fortunately, during all this time, Brunak had been more interested in chasing refugees than attacking Mike. He had moved forward slightly, so that Mike and Carr were now behind him. Mike glanced at the door, and realized that he could make it. He could get out if he wanted to.
He shoved the thought aside almost instantly. He hadn’t come all this way to lose his mother again. And he owed the refugees the chance to get out; he had been the one that got them into this mess after all.
Mike got a tighter grip on Carr’s broken blade, and then ran at Brunak from behind. Just before reaching him, he vaulted into the air, aiming for Brunak’s back, the jagged tip of his weapon angled down.
It was fortunate that Mike attacked when he did. Brunak had finally succeeded in killing the lone orc, with the result that he was now bearing down on Kara. He had just raised one massive fist to strike her down, when Carr’s sword sank into his back, bypassing the weaker area of his carapace with ease.
Brunak reared up in anger and pain, allowing Kara enough time to scramble past him. Mike, straddling Brunak’s back, wrenched the blade out and plunged it into a different spot, which it penetrated just as easily. The fact that the blade was shortened was actually helping him, providing him additional leverage against Brunak’s carapace.
Brunak reached behind him, trying to grab Mike. It must be said that a trolticor’s one greatest weakness is reaching behind himself. Brunak twisted and strained, but Mike was able to duck and avoid his grasping hands. Instead, he withdrew the sword and, moving up the back more, sank it into a different spot. The carapace about the wound cracked and shattered as black blood leaked out.
As Mike had hoped, Brunak had begun moving backwards as he attempted to unseat Mike. It was slow and uneven progress, but by dodging Brunak’s arms, Mike was able to keep him coming closer to the door. All he needed to do was pass it…
The vipers, seeing that Brunak was distracted, surged forwards. The refugees charged to meet them, wielding everything from guns to pieces of metal piping. They must have realized what Mike was trying to do, because they kept moving forwards, making their way towards the door.
A moment later, Brunak passed the door. Now all Mike had to do was keep him there. Withdrawing the blade, he grabbed ahold of Brunak’s sparse mane, and pulled himself up until he could see the back of Brunak’s head. Gripping the mane tightly in one hand and Carr’s sword in the other, he sank the blade into the back of Brunak’s neck.
The trotlicor let out a terrible roar of fury. Abandoning his fruitless attempts of grabbing Mike, he reared up, attempting to shake him off. Mike held tightly to the mane however, and though he nearly lost his grip twice, remained where he was.
The refugees had cleared the vipers from the door, and were now flooding through it, as fast as one can flood into a three foot wide hallway. The vipers, wary of Brunak, were hanging back once again.
Suddenly, without warning, Brunak moved to the side, away from the door. As if they had been expecting it, the vipers charged forwards, mingling with the refugees and attacking them on all sides. At the same moment, Brunak, seeming to ignore Mike completely, rushed forwards himself, dispersing the refugees still left behind. It only took Mike a moment to realize what was going on: the Infected were working with one mind; the Hives had taken over.
Thinking fast, Mike pulled the sword from Brunak’s neck, and climbed even higher. He saw Brunak turn, and charge directly at Kara, who, though injured, was trying to help some refugees get to their feet. He had to act quickly.
Grabbing a remaining tuft of Brunak’s hair, Mike lunged forwards until he was lying on Brunak’s head. He then brought his blade down, and sliced it neatly across Brunak’s two burning eyes.
Brunak let out a terrible shriek of agony. He raised his hands to his face, where black blood was streaming down. His forward momentum halted, he staggered sideways and crashed into a wall, nearly unseating Mike.
“Go!” Mike yelled at Kara, who seemed to have been temporarily paralyzed by fear. She jumped at the sound of his voice, and pulled the rest of the refugees to their feet. Mike glanced around for his mother. She was cornered by a group of vipers, firing away madly into their midst.
Fortunately Brunak staggered to his feet at that moment, and Mike, taking advantage of his blindness, leaned forwards. Since he was on top of Brunak’s head, his weight made Brunak lean, and then stagger forwards to regain his balance. This sudden motion was all Mike needed.
The vipers, hissing angrily as Brunak staggered towards them, began to back away from Mike’s mother. “Go!” Mike shouted, waving his mother towards the door. “The craft is just outside!”
He had said it more out of hope than anything else, but as Mike’s mother ran for the door, he heard the roar of soulborg gunfire coming from beyond it. So Warden had stayed after all.
At the sound of his voice, Brunak had weaved sideways and renewed his attempts to unseat Mike. Mike was forced to duck and dodge the trolticor’s flailing arms, and didn’t have a chance to help any of the other refugees. He caught occasional glimpses of those left behind charging the vipers, making a rush for the door, or else falling to overpowering numbers. He saw several refugees help Carr up and sprint to the door with him. To his horror, he saw both Kara and his mother, still fighting the unending sea of vipers, struggling to keep the door clear.
“What are you doing?” he shouted at them from between Brunak’s arms. “You have to get out!”
“Not without you!” Kara shouted back, before impaling a viper on the tip of her spear.
Mike ducked a blow from Brunak. “I’ll be right behind you!” he yelled. “Go!”
Kara looked uncertainly at him, and then checked behind her. All of the other refugees were either lying dead on the floor, or had made it out. Slowly, walking backwards and keeping the vipers at bay, she and Mike’s mother made their way through the side door.
Mike scanned the hallway one final time. It was empty of refugees, save for those that hadn’t made it. Nearly half of the refugees had been slain. The vipers were ignoring him completely, instead choosing to stream through the door. Mike was confident they wouldn’t get far. The craft’s gun could split a blade of grass from a mile out; a horde of infected snakes shouldn’t be a problem.
A moment later, Mike paid for his distraction. Brunak finally succeeded in grabbing his left arm, and immediately jerked him off of his back. Mike swung around so fast he was temporarily unaware of what was going on; at least until he slammed into Brunak’s chest. Brunak reared up, doubtless intending to shred Mike with his front claws. Mike knew he had less than a second to react, and did the only thing that came to mind: taking advantage of his free right arm, he punched Brunak in the face.
If you have ever tried to punch someone while being held off of the floor by your left arm, you will know how difficult it is to put any kind of power behind the blow. Fortunately, Mike’s punch hit Brunak squarely in the eye, with the result that the trolticor dropped to all fours again, roaring with pain and fury.
Mike knew he had to get free. Even in his current state, Brunak wasn’t likely to just drop him, meaning that Mike had to be rid of him permanently. While Brunak was still distracted with the pain in his eye, Mike lunged upwards, grabbing a hold of the trolticor’s head and pulling himself up. Brunak realized what he was doing, but it was too late: Mike grabbed the haft of Carr’s sword and pulled it free.
Brunak yanked Mike back down so hard that he slammed into the floor. Mike heard a crack and felt a corresponding pain shoot through his leg, but there was no time for injuries. At least Brunak had released him. Getting his feet under him and gripping the broken blade in his right hand, he drove it straight at Brunak’s chest.
Carr’s sword had broken because it didn’t have the leverage necessary to penetrate Brunak’s armor. Now, only half as long, Mike was able to plunge it past Brunak’s battered carapace, past his armor-like skin, and deep into his chest.
It had no effect whatsoever, except to make Brunak angrier. Mike leapt back to avoid one of Brunak’s front claws, and then rushed forwards again, withdrawing the sword and plunging it into a new part of Brunak’s chest. Still, nothing happened.
Mike tried to duck a blow from Brunak’s clawed foot, with the result that the dagger-like claws sliced into his shoulder, severing muscle and grating along bone. Fortunately, Brunak had wounded his left shoulder, meaning that Mike was able to withdraw the sword with his right hand, and drive it, one last time, into the middle of Brunak’s chest.
This time he struck something. Brunak jerked, as though he had been yanked backwards by an invisible cord. He released Mike, and stared blankly at the blade sprouting from his chest. Mike knew he had done it. He had struck the center of the infection, the only part of Brunak that was alive.
Brunak suddenly roared with anger. He would die any second, Mike knew it, but it seemed that in his last moments, Brunak would do anything to kill him. Without even pausing to consider, Mike snatched an assault rifle from where it lay on the ground conveniently nearby, whirled to face Brunak, and shot him once, directly between the eyes.
Brunak stumbled backwards, let loose one final, defiant roar, and then toppled, his great body crashing to the floor with a resounding echo.
Spoiler Alert!
It wasn’t over yet. Mike still had to get to the craft, and he knew that it would take off rather than take the risk of being boarded by any of the vipers. If he didn’t show up soon, Warden might leave without him, even if the soulborg had stayed this long.
Mike charged through the side door, squeezed through the hall beyond, and a moment later burst into the weak sunlight of Kinsland.
The dying sun’s slanting rays shown on the soulborg craft, hovering in midair. Its guns were firing without pause into the horde of vipers that seethed below it. Mike gauged the distance. The craft was too far up. He could never jump that high, especially not with one broken leg. Some of the vipers saw him and turned around, and Mike knew that he would have to try. It was either that, or be overwhelmed by the Infected.
As the sun touched the horizon, Mike charged the vipers. As one, the horde turned, and shot towards him, their arms and mouths opened wide, ready to receive him. Mike unleashed a spray of bullets, cutting down the vipers in front, giving him a clear path to the craft. In a matter of seconds, his gun was empty, and he flung it aside, knowing that he needed to shed all the weight he could. In a frozen moment of time, the craft dropped a little lower, ready to receive him. The vipers closed in, and Mike felt their arms begin to close on his legs. He leapt from the ground, ignoring the terrible pain in his leg, willing himself to go up, up beyond the vipers, up into the craft.
A claw closed shut securely on Mike’s injured leg, and his upward momentum ceased as suddenly as if he had been secured to the ground by an anvil. Mike looked down and saw that a viper had reached up and grabbed a hold of his leg. This was it then.
As Mike began to fall back towards the waiting horde, he didn’t feel fear or despair. He had done what he came to do: he had rescued his mother. That was enough for him.
Apparently, it wasn’t enough for Warden. Mike felt a sudden iron grip on his right arm, and all motion ceased. Mike hung, suspended between craft and ground. Looking up, he saw the metallic mask of Warden, his ruined arm holding onto Mike with all the strength it had left.
More vipers grabbed Mike’s legs, trying to pull him down. If the vipers had ever had a tug-of-war contest with any soulborg, they would have known how futile their attempts were.
Warden stood, pulling Mike with him. His shattered arm shook and vibrated, but it still held Mike. Most of the vipers fell to the ground, but two remained, clinging to Mike.
Mike saw Warden’s face, and knew what he was thinking. He couldn’t bring Mike all the way into the craft, not with two infected vipers hanging off of him. There was a risk, no matter how small, that they would all be infected. At the same time, Mike saw Warden’s arm, the one holding him, begin to fail. The shaking intensified, and sparks issued from the crevices as circuits overloaded. A choice had to be made.
Out of nowhere, a hand appeared over Warden’s shoulder: a dark hand, holding a revolver. Carr stepped to the edge of the craft, calmly took aim, and fired twice. The two vipers dropped from Mike like discarded weapons. Warden heaved Mike into the craft the rest of the way, and finally, Mike felt the solid metal beneath his feet.
He had done what he set out to do, and more. He had returned.
Spoiler Alert!
Agent Carr never recovered from the loss of his son. No matter how much he blamed Mike’s father, he blamed himself more. He had left Daren, thinking him not ready to fight battles with his father on the front lines. He had never forgiven himself for not fulfilling his son’s last wish and taking him with him. Carr returned to the ruined wastes of Valhalla soon after being healed. Soulborg intelligence had picked up word of more survivors, and Carr knew that the constant danger would take his mind off of his own suffering.
Warden was able to present the machine to Einar’s technicians whole and undamaged. Warden’s arm and shattered circuits were quickly replaced with upgraded parts, and he was able to depart on another mission into Valhalla soon afterwards, accompanied by Heirloom and more warforged.
Kara, Drake’s daughter, was reunited with her father. He was angry at what she had done, but his relief at seeing her alive far outweighed any other feeling. Kara returned with plenty of time to be cured, and the infection was soon erased from her. Useful as she had been on the mission, she never wanted to be in Infected territory again.
Mike’s mother, suffering from malnourishment and constant tension, took time to recover. In time though, she became the mother Mike had once known. She departed for Haukeland, and lived there, as far from the Infected as she could get.
And what of Mike? Mike made it back with barely enough time to be cured. The procedure was difficult, but by a combination of kyrie healing and soulborg technology, the infection was eventually halted. Mike had been infected so long that it could never truly be removed from him, but an array of soulborg monitors strapped to his body kept the infection inert. If they ever failed, however, Mike would become an Infected within a matter of hours. He would need to be monitored for the rest of his life. It was a small price to pay for the return of his mother.
And what about Valhalla itself? Did the machine help the alliance defeat the Infected? Was Valhalla returned to all of its glory? What about the wellsprings? Were they ever restored? Were the warriors of a million worlds sent back home?
Sadly, that is a story for another time.
Mike, for one, had experienced enough adventure for a while.
I'm having some difficulties with my rating system, so I'm going to save some time and trouble and just ask for ratings here. You can reply here or in a PM, whichever works better for you. The ratings you can give are as follows:
1: Terrible
2: Very bad
3: Bad
4: Poor
5: Not bad
6: Good
7: Very good
8: Excellent
9: Awesome
10: The best of the best
Be sure to use only a whole number when rating.
8 - a well written and gripping, if simplistic story. I would've liked to have seen the apocalypse story further explored or resolved, but as you said, story for another time.
~TAF
TAF was the Storyteller...
in THE ENEMY'S LAST RETREAT
I'm having some difficulties with my rating system, so I'm going to save some time and trouble and just ask for ratings here. You can reply here or in a PM, whichever works better for you. The ratings you can give are as follows:
1: Terrible
2: Very bad
3: Bad
4: Poor
5: Not bad
6: Good
7: Very good
8: Excellent
9: Awesome
10: The best of the best
Be sure to use only a whole number when rating.