Stone Soldiers: Catching Fire (4 page)

Eventually, the local insurgents had chosen to attack the hospital as a lesson to the
villagers who allowed it to remain. The attack was not well planned. All four of the insurgents were killed by alert guards. American guards.

Zaman smiled as he remembered his. He twisted the large ring on his hand as his pulse quickened in anticipation. He licked his lips and pressed his binoculars tighter against his face.

Despite the bright noonday sun, he could see the air begin to shimmer and ripple in the small courtyard in front of the hospital complex. The shimmering condensed in on itself then began to glow the faintest of orange. Flames crackled to life and rapidly expanded- forming an eight foot tall column of fire wider than a man.

The whirling column moved toward the closest tent, directly into a wall of fabric. Smoke escaped briefly from around the fire then it passed through- leaving a precise, black-edged hole in the tent wall where it had burnt away the fabric in it's line of travel.

Zaman swallowed nervously and closed his eyes. He waited, then opened first one eye, then the other. Why were there no screams?

The whirling tower of flames moved out another wall of the tent and passed into the next. In seconds it emerged from another wall. The fire wavered, swirling in place for a moment.

Zaman swung his binoculars around, examining all the buildings near the hospital.

He had missed it at first, but it was quite obvious now. The village was deserted. There was absolutely no sign of life present. Everyone had simply vanished- villagers and Americans.

They knew he was coming.

This revelation was punctuated by the staccato burst of a lone machine gun. Zaman lifted his binoculars. The flaming
column was shifting now, as tracer rounds passed harmlessly through it. Following the line of the rounds being fired, Zaman located the gunman.

A lone soldier, wearing long sleeved desert camouflage- a pattern Zaman hadn't seen used by the Americans in years, and which, in fact, matched that of the pants he wore. The soldier also
wore a combat vest and held a heavy machine gun in both arms, a grim look on his gray and tan painted face.

The
swirling column of fire raced toward the gunman.

***

"What the hell is this?" Daniel Smith yelled- his words picked up
by tiny microphones in the lower edge of his tactical goggles.

"Fire Elemental!" Colonel Kenslir yelled. He had just leapt out from behind the corner of a building and began firing his auto shotgun- semi automatic fire that disgorged one twelve gauge slug after another.

The swirling elemental paused in its charge on Smith and seemed to turn toward Kenslir- it was hard to tell as it had no limbs, no head, no face. It was just a whirling mass of flames.

Kenslir shifted his grip on his rifle and fired the underbarrel grenade launcher. The explosive round landed at the fire monster's feet and exploded in a blinding flash that sent sand and flame flying in every direction.

Smith stopped firing his own machinegun and waited for the sand and smoke to settle. There was no sign of the elemental.

"Stay back," Kenslir said, approaching the blast site cautiously, reloading his grenade launcher as he walked.

"Fire elemental? Really?" Smith asked.

"Around here, they call them
Djinns
," the Colonel said. He was picking at the ground with the toe of one boot.

"Djinns? That's where the Genie myth comes from, isn't it?"

Kenslir's boot tip suddenly glowed a bright green and a geyser of flame and super-heated air erupted from the ground, streaking up almost twenty feet. A terrible shrieking filled the air, as though something were screaming.

"Get to cover!" Kenslir yelled.

Smith stepped back and dove behind the edge of a tent. Turning back toward the courtyard, he could see the Colonel, represented by a glowing head-up marker on the goggles. Kenslir had just stepped back a few feet. He seemed to be watching something.

Smith peeked around a corner of the tent and was very surprised. The stream of flames was settling back
down- as though being poured into a clear mold. The flames now took on a more human form- a torso, two arms, and a head, all supported by a whirling point of flame that just barely touched the ground.

>>>STAY BACK- IT CAN'T SEE ME<<< Kenslir texted across the TTVs.

"What do you mean it can't see you? It's right there!" Smith clutched his rifle nervously, despite his stone body. He didn't feel so invincible anymore.

>>>IT DOESN'T SEE WITH EYES, IT USES SOEMTHING LIKE CLAIRVOYANCE TO SENSE ITS SURROUNDINGS. AND I CAN'T BE SEEN BY CLAIRVOYANTS.<<<

Smith ducked back behind the tent. "Damn, that's pretty handy. What about me?"

>>>I'M TOLD YOU GLOW LIKE
A LIGHTHOUSE ON THE ETHERIC PLANE. STAY OUT OF SIGHT!<<<

On the hill overlooking the hospital, Zaman was all but cursing. The Djinn was just standing there, when the American was right beside it, watching it. Why didn't it attack? He raised his ring-hand to his lips and began to whisper into his
large, golden ring.

The Djinn suddenly lunged at Kenslir- a clumsy swipe with a flaming arm. The Colonel held
up his shotgun to block the attack. The flaming appendage passed through the weapon, severing it in two.

"Damn!" Kenslir said, dropping the rifle halves.

The Djinn jerked visibly at the sound of his voice and attacked again, reaching out with its other arm.

Kenslir swung his right arm up, fist balled tightly as if to block a punch. When the flaming arm met his, green light flared brightly and the Djinn screamed in pain again. Smoke flared from Kenslir's sleeve and he felt his skin burn as he jumped back.

"What's going on?" Smith asked.

>>>QUIET!<<<

Kenslir glanced down at his arm- the flesh that had bubbled and cracked from the heat of the Djinn had already turned to gray stone and was slowly repairing itself. He circled quietly around behind the flaming monster.

The Djinn wavered, unsure of where to go.

Kenslir attacked from what he hoped was behind, punching with his left hand and bracing for another burn. But the Djinn somehow sensed his attack and dodged aside- then grabbed the Colonel as he stumbled.

The elemental screamed again as bright green light flared where it touched the Colonel, its arms wrapped around his torso in something like a wrestler's grip.

Despite the burning he felt as flames cut through his combat vest and shirts, the Colonel
twisted and reached out with his own hands. The flames had a mass to them, like water, but burned as he plunged his fists inside the creature, up to his elbows.

The Djinn's screaming reached a fevered pitch, then it
exploded- sending fire and smoke in every direction.

Zaman stood still, his jaw hanging open, slack. Stunned. He then realized, as a chill crept up his back, that these soldiers were not simple Americans to be burned by the demon he controlled. They were something much worse.

Smith ran out from behind the building he'd used for shelter. Despite its ineffectiveness earlier, he covered the area with his M-60, looking here and there for any sign of their opponent.

"Stay back!" Kenslir barked, a hand held up, fingers splayed, palm toward Smith. The Colonel's skin, not only on his hand, but his face and his upper body- which showed through the smoking remnants of shirt and vest- were black and gray, and horribly disfigured.

"Is that it?" Smith asked. "Did you kill it?"

Kenslir took in a deep breath, and Smith could see that every time he moved, the stone skin on his body cracked like dry paint, revealing bright pink beneath. "Too easy."

"Yeah, but where-" Smith started to
say.

Again, a geyser of hot air blasted up out of the
ground- this time at Smith's feet. But instead of forming into a man-like shape, it fell back down on him, like a crashing wave. Smith instantly felt himself engulfed by the bright flames.

He could feel the terrific heat of the fire that was consuming his gear and his clothes, but oddly, it did not hurt. Nor did the incredibly bright light of the living fire that danced across his exposed eyes as the last of his tactical visor melted away.

Then he saw a bright green flash and the Djinn screamed again. Smith felt himself plucked from the ground, then thrown through the air. It happened so fast he couldn't adjust in time- he tumbled through the air like a rag doll before crashing down on a large tent and collapsing it.

Rolling onto his side, he put a hand down and tried to
sit up. He noticed that his clothes were now just a black mass of soot clinging to his stone body. Nearly everything he'd been wearing or carrying was gone- incinerated by the terrific heat of the Djinn.

A hand grabbed him by the arm and Smith felt the pressure of a strong grip. He was lifted to his feet.

"C'mon!" Colonel Kenslir hissed, pulling Smith along.

Still partially burnt, partially petrified, the Colonel led Smith through the tent quickly, nearly dragging him despite Smith's massive weight. The Colonel ducked around two more buildings before pausing in an alley. They were well away from the hospital now.

"Sir? You all right?" Smith asked, looking the Colonel over.

Kenslir still wore the tattered, charred remains of his shirt and vest, but his arms, chest and face
were still covered with cracked stone flesh. He wore a pained expression on his normally-grim face.

"I need to find some water," Kenslir whispered.

"What just happened?"

"I pulled your ass out of the fire," Kenslir said, looking around. He moved to a door in the alley and twisted an old brass knob. The metal splintered under his grip and the door swung in.

Kenslir held a finger to his lips for silence and crept inside.

Following him, Smith closed the door behind them then turned to see the Colonel pouring a bowl of water on his face. Dirty water- probably a wash bowl for whoever had lived here before Kenslir had the town quickly evacuated.

"What now?
How do we stop that thing?" Smith asked.

"Good question," Kenslir said. His face was slowly turning back to flesh tones now, and Smith could see that every drop of water was being absorbed into his cracked stone skin.

"You ever fight something like this before?"

"Pre-accident," Kenslir said. "North Korea, 1952. Reds had something very similar."

"How'd you kill it?"

"I snuck up behind it," Kenslir said. Seeing that Smith didn't understand he explained further. "Before my accident, I could nullify etheric energy just by getting within twenty feet of it. I walked up on the commie elemental and it just exploded away- all its energy gone. A big flash of heat, then nothing."

"Crap," Smith said.

"Crap, indeed," Kenslir agreed. He was moving around the small home now, looking in cabinets. He smiled when he found a collection of condensed soup in cans.

"So what do we do?"

Kenslir squeezed the first can, bursting the tin, then poured the contents on his chest. The soup congealed, the water being drawn out of it almost instantly.

"I'm not sure- but we need to come up with something- it's bound to be looking for us."

"I thought you said it couldn't see you?" Smith asked, watching Kenslir smear more condensed soup on himself. "What are you doing?"

"I need water to heal," Kenslir
said. "I can't just grow new skin out of the air."

"Water?

"Soups mostly water- just like people."

Smith was glad he couldn't smell in his new stone body. The contents of several cans were now stuck to Kenslir's arms and body- dry paste he was sure would start stinking any minute.

"What about what you said- it's looking for
us
?"

"Someone's helping it. A spotter maybe. It couldn't see me, but it knew I was there."

"Maybe it can smell you?"

Kenslir frowned and rubbed on the last of the soup. Under the mass of noodles,
tomato paste and more, his skin had fully regenerated. "It can hear and it can feel, but, like you, it can't smell or taste."

"So again- how do we beat it? Can we fight fire with fire?"

"It's a possibility," Kenslir said, then tapped his TTV. "I'm still in contact with Command. If we can keep it here long enough we could get a fuel-air dropped on it. That might do the trick- disperse it's mass and deprive it of oxygen.

"Or we could go after the handler."

"How so?"

"First Born don't work for humans unless they're being controlled."

"First born?" Smith asked. He'd been taught a lot in the past few weeks, but that didn't sound familiar.

"Locals think Djinns are demons," Kenslir explained. "They're half right. They're the children of the Fallen- Nephilhim. Each successive generation with human women weakens them, reduces their powers. To be all flames, this guy's gotta be a first generation Fellish."