Authors: Michael P. Spradlin
S
haniah was waiting for him in the other building. He set the dynamite near the window and pried off the lid. He checked the load on his Henry and leaned it against the wall next to the window. The Ass-Kicker was charged, the gauges on the Fire Shooter showed full. He was ready.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Hollister drew his Colt and rolled the cylinder along the sleeve of his duster. Each chamber held a round.
“For what?”
“What I said earlier.”
He holstered the Colt. Jonas was jumpy as a cat, wishing the goddamn Archaics would pour out of the mine right now so he could start gunning them down.
She came to him and took his hands. “For hundreds of years we have avoided humans because we considered them enemies, and most of my people believed one day that our civilizations would meet and clash. With so few Archaics and so many humans, my people believed we would die. All of us. The Old Ones chose me to be the leader of my people, to be the one to see us through this. They believe I possess the skills to convince humans that we only wish to be left in peace—that we would continue to live as we have for centuries, without killing or feeding on humans. As long as we can stay in our homeland, left alone, we would remain peaceful. The killing we were responsible for centuries ago would be over. It
is
over.”
She stopped, unsure of herself. As if she had lost her train of thought. Finally she figured out what she wished to say.
“Malachi may be the death of my people. He is vain, and he is cunning, but most of all he is evil. And if I do not kill him first, I promise you this. He will not murder hundreds but
thousands
of humans before he is stopped. If he survives and continues on this path, there will be no hope for peace between our peoples.” She let go of his hands and paced back and forth in the shed a few times.
“Have you heard of dinosaurs, Jonas?” she asked.
“Yes, I read about them at the Point. Giant reptiles, lived millions of years ago, they figure.”
“Exactly, they lived for millions of years and then they all died. Extinction, they call it. Many species of creatures gone, as if they had never existed. This is what will happen to us. It is what will happen to me, if I do not stop him,” she said.
“I understand,” Hollister said.
“Do you? I do not mean to be curt, but I do not think you do. There is greatness in you, Jonas Hollister. I sensed it when I first saw you face Malachi on the plains. Malachi saw it too. He drew back from you. Physically, he is your superior in almost every way, but you are brave and you are fearless, and you frightened him, if only for an instant. But what is most important about you, what sets you apart is, you have a sense of compassion that other men lack. Your strength is not just your courage or your abillity to shoot a gun, or the ‘tactics’ you study at this place you’ve called the ‘Point.’ You know what is right and what is not, when to fight and when to stand down. You make instant judgments about men. And you are never wrong. Take Chee as an example. You told me you hardly knew him in prison, but then you saw him fight these men and you judged him. You were right about him. Now he follows you and will continue to follow you without question, forever. You have shown him these same qualities in you that I just spoke of and he will now ride with you through the gates of hell. He trusts you with his life.
“In Absolution you were bold and daring. So much so, that you could have gotten everyone killed, but he followed your orders without hesitation because he trusts you. And from the moment you took him from the prison he will never not trust you.”
Hollister didn’t know what to say. He’d heard his commanders at the Point and generals he’d served under in the war say he was a natural born leader, but he didn’t believe there was any such thing. Apparently, Shaniah thought otherwise.
He had to make her understand something. They were running out of time. “The reason I said what I said, about you covering our flank . . . it’s only because . . . I . . . I don’t want you to die, Shaniah. You’ve taken something from me, and I don’t know what it is . . . but there is a piece of me that belongs to you now and . . . I don’t want . . .” He couldn’t get the words out. “I’m no good with words. I know it sounds impossible, foolish even, but it’s how I feel and it makes no sense . . . but . . . isn’t that what love is?”
“I love you too, Jonas,” she said. “And you are much better with words than you think.”
She kissed him then. It was a kiss that comes only a few times in your life. When you know you have found the one. Time stops. The world becomes clean and bright. It was that type of kiss. It bonded them forever from that moment. If Jonas believed in God he would have said, “God help me, but I love her so.” But he didn’t believe in God anymore: he just knew that whatever had happened between them over these past few days—he knew he loved her. How could he love her? How could they be together? She wasn’t even a human, not in any way that made sense. It would be like a pirate loving a mermaid. And he didn’t believe in mermaids but he damn sure believed in her.
“I . . . no one has ever said that to me before,” he said. “And what I told you yesterday, in the valley. I’m with you all the way, I will kill Malachi with my bare hands if it means saving you, because I . . .
But before he could finish the first of the Archaics emerged from the mine.
It was on.
O
ne came out first. Then three more, then they straggled out in groups. Surprisingly to Jonas, they looked almost like humans waking from a deep sleep. Rubbing their eyes and stretching, as more and more of them emerged.
“They look like they’ve been sleeping. You said that’s good, right?” he asked.
“Yes. Malachi has chosen this place because it is very similar to our homeland. Mountainous. Largely deserted. But he has gone through the surrounding territory, found enough humans, and started raising his army.
“As a result there are few if any humans left nearby to feed on. And what humans they have found have been given to Malachi. Feeding on
Huma Sangra
makes an Archaic much stronger.”
The Archaics continued to pour out of the mine, more than a hundred so far.
“He’s been feeding,” Hollister said. “But his army hasn’t. At least not as much. So that makes them weaker.”
“Yes, but do not be fooled or careless. Even without
Huma Sangra,
they are much stronger, faster, more vicious than humans. They likely have been feeding on animals from the woods and plains nearby. Just as I have. They will still be formidable. And Malachi . . .”
“What? What about him?” Hollister said.
“He will be the strongest of all of them. You must leave him to me,” she said.
“But you haven’t had human blood either, have you?”
“No, it is forbidden by the Old Ones, and I have kept my vow. But they have also prepared me. Do not worry, Jonas. Malachi is strong. But so am I.” She smiled.
He tried not to worry, but it didn’t work. All he could see was Malachi as he had seen him on the plains so many years ago, the bullets bouncing off him like pebbles. Being thrown on the ground like a rag doll. Sitting on Hollister’s chest, Malachi’s fists pounding on his face like anvils dropped on his head. Only he saw Shaniah being beaten this time and the thought terrified him.
“What are you going to do?” he asked. It was all he could think of to say.
“I need you to open fire when Malachi appears. The wind is with us. They will not smell us yet. Pray the wind does not shift. Concentrate on the Archaics. You are unlikely to hit him anyway. He will be too quick for most of your weapons. I will focus on him,” she said.
“What if you don’t find him?” Hollister said.
“Then he will find me,” Shaniah said. “You see, Jonas, he has been waiting for this moment ever since he escaped our homeland. He will not let it pass.”
“I don’t like this,” Hollister said.
“I know,” Shaniah replied. “But you made a promise to me. Do you intend to keep it?”
He looked at her, memorizing her face because he knew he might not see her alive again.
“All the way,” he said.
M
ore and more Archaics flooded out of the mine. Through the collapsed wall of the building, he could see Chee in the shed, hands on the Gatling gun, ready to wreak havoc. He couldn’t see Dog, but he imagined him next to Chee, coiled and ready to attack anything that moved when given the command.
At the Point he’d been trained to determine enemy strength by counting a group of ten, getting a read on the size of those ten then roughly counting the number of groups that size in the force arrayed against you. Using the technique, Hollister guessed there were about three hundred Archaics. He’d expected more, so he was somewhat relieved; but killing them wasn’t easy, so he’d count his blessings. He readied the Fire Shooter.
Something was happening at the mine. The crowd was parting. Malachi emerged. Even after all this time, Hollister had no trouble recognizing him. It was the same man who had killed his men. His hair was longer and even from this distance he seemed taller. But there was no doubt in Hollister’s mind it was him. He stepped up on some crates that had been pushed together like a small stage, as if he were about to give a sermon at a revival
“There he is.” Hollister turned to tell Shaniah.
But she was gone.
M
alachi looked out at the crowd of his Archaics, their faces eager for him to lead them. They were hungry and desperate to feed. He would send them to destroy the train and then . . .
He was about to speak when images of Shaniah flooded his brain. She was here, and very close by. He knew she had been coming but this surprised him. He studied the woods and the nearby mountainsides. To the south he smelled horses. But she was not there. Even after all this time, he would know her scent anywhere. The woods surrounding the mine clearing were also devoid of her presence. Where was she?
His eyes settled on the buildings. They were less than one hundred yards away from where he stood. She was not there either, or was she? Strange smells came from the structures. Had she masked her scent somehow? Someone was there, and from the buildings came another odor he faintly recognized. Whoever it was would need to be dealt with. Quickly.
“Listen!” he said loudly and the Archaics surrounding him quieted instantly. “We have been discovered. Shaniah is here. And she is not alone. We must find her. Those buildings hide those who seek to destroy us. Kill them.”
The Archaics turned in concert, readying themselves to charge.
T
he buildings were just far enough away that neither Hollister nor Chee could hear what Malachi was saying. When the entire group of Archaics looked at the buildings, they knew they been discovered.
Hollister wanted to wait until they got within forty yards before using the Fire Shooter to make sure they were within range. First, he started picking them off with the Henry. It was extremely accurate at this distance and he’d chosen the load of wooden bullets dipped in holy water. Whenever he could hit one directly in the heart it made for an agonizing death.
Once Hollister had fired off a few shots, the group targeted his building. Hundreds of them running and leaping across the ground. To Jonas it felt like they would be upon him in seconds. Until Chee opened up with the Gatling.
It cut them down like a scythe in a wheat field. Archaics might be stronger and faster than humans, but they were not immune to pain, and the sound of their screams echoed off the surrounding mountains as they went down in waves, twisting and writhing on the ground.
Yet, some still made it through and while Chee kept the big gun chattering away, Hollister opened up with the Fire Shooter. It caused mass confusion at first, then more cries of agony as body after body burst into flames. In the course of two minutes, they had greatly reduced the numbers heading toward them.
Hollister still saw no sign of Shaniah, but he could see Malachi standing on the crates, watching the devastation take place before him. Hollister kept the trigger down on his Fire Shooter because there were still Archaics charging forward. But he looked at his Henry rifle leaning against the wall and for a moment toyed with the idea of picking it up and taking a shot at Malachi. From this distance, if he could hit him in the heart, he could end this whole thing. But he couldn’t risk it. There were still too many of them coming and they could be on him before he could get the shot off.
He looked at the gauge on the Fire Shooter. It was already down by half. This was going to get interesting in a hurry.
M
alachi could not believe what was happening. His followers, the army he had sired, gunned down and burned to near death before his eyes. How? This was not Shaniah’s doing. He knew that. It was humans who had created weapons that killed and maimed his people. Impossible.
He remembered centuries before, when the Old Ones had decided that mankind had grown beyond the ability of the Archaics to treat them simply as prey. He had argued against it then and he had opposed it again when the Council chose Shaniah to be their leader.
We are Archaics!
He had reasoned.
Humans should tremble before us!
But the Council had been too weak. They had always been too timid. Afraid of tiny beings no better than insects.
When the decision to avoid human contact was made, the Archaics fractured. Most went along to the high mountains of Eastern Romania. But a few scattered, never to be heard from again. There were times he wondered about those who had chosen freedom; had they survived? Had they lived and prospered in the human world? Did they still feast on the
Huma Sangra
?
Malachi had decided to wait. He went along with the others to the high mountains. But one day he would become an Eternal.
Then
he would take control of his people. And he would show them that humans were not to be feared. Humans were nothing more than food.
Once he left, after Shaniah’s ascension to leadership, he had quickly learned on his journey to this place about the advances of humankind and their remarkable ingenuity. He had seen human weapons up close. Had felt them cut his skin and pierce his flesh. And he had found them to be no match for a true Archaic. A mosquito bite. Even those humans who had learned control of the elementals did not instill fear in him. He was unbeatable.
To Malachi, humans were nothing more than walking meals. He remembered that, a few years ago, he had been on the plains of Wyoming and his band had killed a group of soldiers. One of the soldiers had shot him several times. He felt the bullets stinging his skin but hardly slowing him down. The soldier had no idea how close he was to death. How Malachi would feast on his blood. But the sun came up and he did not have time to kill and drain the man.
Archaics owned the night. Another reason they could decimate the human race when he raised his army. Humans feared the night. Darkness was a great disadvantage to them. They could not see, did not feel or hear the presence of an Archaic stalking them until the fangs sank into their necks. And they died, as they should.
He had come to America to get away from the very Archaics like Shaniah and the Old Ones who could have stopped him if he had stayed in the old country. Every step of the way he had planned carefully, turning followers when they were needed, but carefully planning and growing.
He was close to unleashing his full fury on the human race, but now he saw before him these puny creatures that stood toe to toe with his Archaics unafraid, with weapons he could not imagine. The cries and screams of agony of his people brought him back to the present.
He was angry and confused, and for a moment not sure of what he should do. Should he retreat? Let his soldiers die here and start afresh somewhere else? All he needed to do was live three more days and he would be an Eternal. Nothing, no weapon, no spell, no elemental could kill him after that.
“I tried to tell you this would happen.”
The voice from behind him actually startled him, but he showed now sign of it as he turned to face her.
“Hello, Shaniah,” he said. “It is good to see you again.”