Light of Epertase 01: Legends Reborn (44 page)

The head of the metal beast lay open and empty; Simcane slipped inside. Two metal seats faced small slits at the front of its head and he sat into one of them. They were hot, and getting hotter, like he sat in a frying pan. He yanked the door closed as a Tek, apparently one of the more observant ones, leaped against the side. Simcane flipped a switch on the door with a clank just as the Tek wrenched at the handle. The Tek cursed him from outside, or at least he assumed it was curses.

A metal lever rested at Simcane’s side and another sat along his other hip. He thrust the left lever forward and the creature jerked to the left. He quickly yanked it back and the machine sputtered to a stop. Another huge rolling fortress, like the one he now sat in, appeared in the distance, slowly pulling away.

Simcane crushed both handles forward. The machine vibrated and roared before it lurching ahead. The ride was slow, the vibrations—bruising.

He worked his wounded arm and shoulder in circles, trying to rid himself of the painful kink the enemy’s weapon had caused. Each movement felt like something foreign rubbed against his scapula beneath his skin. He tore away a strip of cloth from his pant leg and wrapped it around his shoulder and chest. With his teeth, he pulled it taut and tied it over his throbbing hole. Though he was in pain, he was fortunate his wound wasn’t a bleeding one and, as with all of the other wounds he had endured over the years, he knew this pain would pass.

As he pulled away from the desert infernos, he no longer cooked in his seat. The Tek hanging onto his door had long since given up, leaped free, and hurried back to the camps.

Simcane was keeping pace with the other machine but not gaining any ground. With his attention focused ahead, he didn’t notice the figure running alongside until a rock or something heavy and solid crashed against the armored door, startling him. He heard muffled yells of his name from outside. He pulled the levers back until the metal beast stopped. With a smile, he lifted the door.

“We’ve been chasing you forever,” Eldon yelled. “Can we get a ride?”

“Of course.”

“The others will be here soon. We need to wait for them as their legs do not seem to move as fast or nimbly as mine and we have been at this chase for quite some time.”

One by one, the other team members arrived, sucking wind and thanking Simcane for waiting.

“We’re losing the other machine,” he said.

B.J. grinned. “Anyone have any japsy weed left?”

Gillian said that she did and asked why.

He led her to two parallel enemy tracks. Between the tracks lay a stream of their thick, black gunk. “It seems in their hurry to leave, they left us a trail.”

B.J. ignited the ground and the black path. The soldiers watched the flames chase the enemy tanker until a small mushroom cloud replaced the wheeled machine. An incredible boom followed the light show.

Gillian, B.J., Willum and Eldon climbed aboard.

“Where’s Joseph?” Simcane asked.

“He didn’t make it,” Gillian answered her tone void of any emotion that might suggest she had ever known the man.

Simcane pursed his lips, lowered his head, and nodded. “Well,” he said. “We shall not forget him or Thairen when the awards are handed out.”

“Whatever,” she answered.

A distant chatter at the mountain’s base snapped Tevin from his thoughts. Though he didn’t understand the words, he could tell they weren’t friendly. He peered over the edge of the path. The canyon floor was packed with thousands of strange armored beings stretching as far as he could see.

He continued his descent, unfazed by the newest threat.

When he reached the base of the mountain, he stepped into view of the startled foreigners. Their black armor hummed and hissed. They screamed some sort of heathen gibberish while cautiously surrounding him. He couldn’t help but snicker.

“
Slock tei
,” one of them shouted. “
Slock tei
,” he yelled again when Tevin didn’t answer. The strange soldier stepped forward, his movements announced by his hissing armor. The others trained their odd stick weapons at him.

“You must be reinforcements,” Tevin said with a grin.

“
Ick lock talley fol,
” one of them commanded, poking Tevin’s shoulder with his weapon and quickly retreating to his friends.

Tevin clenched his fists. A dull glow formed around his hands, increasing in brightness until his view of the ground at his feet blurred and hid beyond it.

A soldier’s voice rose in excitement, “
Ick lock talley fol!
” He squeezed. His index finger flexed in seemingly slow motion around the lever of his weapon.

“Let’s see what you have, creatures,” Tevin whispered.

The ends of their weapons flashed, temporarily blinding him. He jerked his head away. The flashes of light were followed by crackling booms. Tevin dropped to his knees, expecting pain or even death from the strange contraptions. He peered up from behind his hands.

Lead marbles, too numerous to count, lay in the dirt around him. Their round faces were flattened like they’d been smashed against the mountain wall.

“Is that all you have?” Tevin mumbled.

The armored Teks cautiously backed away. Tevin looked down at his own arms and chest. His entire body glowed like an angel, or more likely a demon.

The Teks screamed more of their gibberish, though what they said didn’t much matter.

They’d better be praying,
Tevin thought.

The soldiers fumbled with their weapons as though they’d forgotten how to work them. One of the men finished whatever task he was attempting and raised his noisemaker into the air. Tevin clenched his teeth, bracing for the thunder again.

But this time thunder didn’t come. Instead the soldier dropped his instrument like it was on fire. There was another clang against the rocks as the soldier next to him dropped his as well. Weapon after weapon crashed to the ground.

The braver Tek soldiers lunged forward, but Tevin simply waved his hand. The Teks stopped their advance. First, they moaned. Then, their moans slowly morphed into screams that could awaken the dead. They fell to the wet grass, writhing in pain. Some of the soldiers clawed at the ground, trying to escape the inescapable. The grass sizzled and steamed from their glowing red armor. It wasn’t long before, their wails and squirming ceased altogether, leaving only the foul stench of their burning flesh. Tevin turned away, sickened but unable to escape the familiar smell. It surrounded him, consumed him, and saturated his skin. His stomach knotted. Vomit burned his throat and filled his mouth but he choked it back with a swallow.

For only a moment he pitied his prey. The putrid smell painfully returned him to a memory he had long since forgotten. A memory of pity that he’d had as a young boy, pity for a rapist who was burned alive in Tiffin’s town square by an angry mob. Though his mother hurriedly covered his eyes, she couldn’t protect him from the screams and the stink. That is why his family moved to Thasula. And now he relived that horror … only this time it was his own doing.

When their screams died and smoke rose from their dead, gaping mouths, Tevin felt a moment of guilt at the atrocity he had created. But at that moment, he realized something cold and deep in his heart – he realized the reason for his guilt. He didn’t have guilt for what he had just done, the torture he had dealt, but in knowing that he had no remorse for it.

He eyed his victims one last time and told himself he would never allow the weakness of pity to affect him again.

He glared at the next wave of Teks who were frozen by fear. “You will all die,” he said, though he doubted they understood him.

They charged. The hissing of their armor drowned out the roar of the pounding river. The ground shook.

Tevin’s face burned with rage. A deafening rumble filled the valley from high above. Some of the charging Teks stopped with upward stares. Others continued their attack.

Tevin’s throat emitted a deep, guttural scream.

Chunks of the mountain broke away and tumbled toward the canyon floor. Boulders, some as large as horses, splashed into the river. Tevin glared to the top of Shadows Peak as it swayed at first before bursting apart and shooting pieces into the air. He dropped to his knees on the quaking ground.

The Teks leaped. The avalanche rained down. Tevin’s world went black.

Rasi leaped into the Teks like a madman. This was what he did best; this was where he felt most alive. Swords bashed against shields and armor and flesh with sickening din.

A Tek screamed while driving a war hammer toward his head. Rasi shifted to the side, letting the hammer divot the ground. He crashed his sword against the hard steel of the Tek’s helmet, sending the dazed enemy to the ground.

Rasi thrashed his sword around with abandon. His straps lashed out, pummeling the cold steel armor of his foes. Some of them fell; even more of them kept coming.

A strap twirled around a Tek helmet and squeezed. The Tek clawed at the tentacle but it only tightened its grip. Rasi’s blood rushed to his face. He groaned and his muscles and straps trembled. A bone-jarring pop rang out in concert with the Tek’s high-pitched yelp, which froze the other attackers, if only for an instant. The strap let loose of the crushed helmet. Its victim, limp inside his suit, collapsed to the ground.

A Tek grabbed Rasi’s hair with his dirty, steel hands. Rasi whirled around with all of his might and smashed his sword into the armored chest of his attacker with little effect. Another steel hand, from a Tek previously knocked to the ground, grabbed his ankle. Rasi shook his foot but couldn’t break free of the firm grip.

A third armored body pounced onto his back with metal arms suffocating around his neck. He finally shook his ankle free but there were too many of them. He whipped around but the attacker on his back only squeezed tighter. Another hand grabbed Rasi’s blade and drove it downward. Rasi clenched the hilt with all of his strength and hope but when a fist crashed against his bicep, his fingers went numb and his sword, his lifeline, fell to the ground.

His straps fought the enemy swarm of Tek after relentless Tek. Several Teks grabbed his straps and wrestled them from the air. Their armor and their numbers, too heavy to fight, pinned each strap to the dirt until Rasi was forced onto his back.

He grunted and groaned; his muscles strained.

“Raaaahhhh,” he screamed and tried to sit up. His back tore with his struggles, only lifting slightly above the ground. A Tek fist cracked against his cheek and he saw a brief white blur.

Their cold, metal hands and bodies piled onto him, crushing him flat against the ground again.

He pulled an arm free but they immediately trapped it to his side.

He tried to fight; he couldn’t give up, not now, not yet. He braced for an end that didn’t come. Where were their blades? Where was their code of an honorable death?

An Epertasian soldier slammed into one of the Teks, knocking him from Rasi’s chest. The lone soldier was no match for the swarm and succumbed to a Tek’s blade. Rasi twisted his head so he could see his falling army surrounding him. They were dying in waves and he realized he had led them like cattle to slaughter.

With his draining breath, he saw beyond the massacre of the Great Plains and past the Forest of Concore. He saw the blur of the mountains and a sight that ripped his heart out, a sight that sucked any hope of victory from his gut. For in the distance, the top of Shadows Peak, the top of his home, crumbled away.

They’d flanked him. They’d outsmarted him. Pain was coming to him and all of Epertase. He wondered if the outcome would have been different if he’d had more time to plan.

Alina was gone.

Epertase was surrounded and falling.

He had lost.

He relaxed in his enemies’ grip, buried beneath their mass of cold black metal. He closed his eyes.

A chunk of his hair ripped from his skull and he moaned. The bitter taste of metal filled his mouth and he tried to bite the intruding thumb, almost breaking his teeth. The Tek thumb fish-hooked his lips and tore his cheek, replacing the taste of metal with the taste of blood.