The Warrior's Beckoning (8 page)

It wouldn’t be long. I was on my last clip.

At my back I felt the cold closing in. More Spirits of Decay were coming for me. I drew my pistol and fired into them, but it barely slowed their advance. I dropped the useless rifle and prepared myself. I had to wait until they were almost on top of me. I reloaded and fired my pistol, waiting for the proper moment.
Just a few more feet
.

“You may get what’s left of my body,” I said, “but you’ll never get my soul!” I held the grenade close to my chest, next to the three others in my pockets that would detonate with it. As a Spirit of Decay thrust his scythe into me, one of the hounds lunged for me. I pulled the pin. There was a bright light, a deafening explosion, and then blackness.

The Last Stand

THE REMAINING SECURITY
teams joined the Survivor, Joel and I. as the chambers pulsed with energy. Twelve men stood in the hallway, three lay prone in the center, three crouched behind them, and the last three stood. The three of us stood in the center of the room. Three guards stood at each side of the chambers. The lights began to flicker on and off. I looked at Joel, who had raised his laser pistol. Some of the guards were equipped with laser rifles as well.

“Spirits of Decay are coming,” the Survivor said. “Be ready.” One came out from behind a guard and brought its scythe down upon him before vanishing. The guard fell to his knees.

“Ready your EMF meters, now!” shouted the soldier beside me. His meter spiked, and he pointed at the floor. Joel aimed the laser rifle toward the spot and fired into the darkness emerging there. The spirit shrieked and vanished.

The team to our right fired into a wall, and the team to our left fired into the ceiling. The shadows were moving all around us.

“The elevator is coming down!” one of the guards said over the radio. The Spirits of Decay receded…briefly. The first cylinder became active, and Daniel’s body fell into a slump as a cloud of
energy entered. Two more to go…the elevator stopped, and the doors opened. A bloody and badly beaten man limped out.

“Help me!” he cried out. He faltered and fell to his knees and began to crawl toward us. Two black hounds tore into his ankle and pulled him into the black cloud that appeared. With a scream he was pulled back in silence. Life drained from him until only a dried husk remained.

From the dark cloud came two black hounds and two of the small shadow creatures. All three teams opened fire, and the creatures fell instantly. The shadows paused, and the lights flickered some more. A Spirit of Decay rose from the floor by the wall to the right of us. It thrust its scythe into the wall and formed a black hole, from which a black hound lunged out and onto one of the guards. One of the smaller creatures followed, swinging its scythe at the other guard. I fired at the hound. The guard fired at the shadow creature. Both dissolved just as David’s cylinder became active. His body fell, lifeless, as the mass of energy around him vanished.

One more to go…

Creatures poured into the room from the black holes created by the spirits’ scythes. When a new black hole opened up on the ceiling, we focused our fire on it. The Survivor fired rapidly into the Spirits of Decay as they appeared. Another black hole opened to our left. We were being surrounded. The teams in the hall were holding on, but for how long?

Finally, Frank’s chamber became active, and his body fell. The mass of energy entered into the same darkness. The administrator called over the intercom, “All personnel get to the emergency exit now! Self-destruct mode is now active!” A countdown followed.

“Where’s the exit?” Joel asked no one in particular.

“Over here!” shouted a soldier over the gunfire. The exit was behind the chambers. The teams in the hall fell back first, and we provided cover for them while they raced toward the emergency exit. The Survivor followed them, leaving nine of us to defend each other.
We fell back as one and moved to a lift opened by a heavy hatch. The door was closed and locked as the lift was activated. The creatures pounded on the door. As it rose, the ceiling opened up, revealing the looming trees. We could not see the sky.

“Evac is coming. Rendezvous with the helicopter at the abandoned mine. You’ll only have a minute on the surface before the facility explodes. Move quickly!” The administrator’s voice was replaced with static.

We arrived at the surface and sprinted into the forest.

“Everyone take cover!” the soldier ordered. Each of us ducked behind a tree and crouched low. Seconds later, the facility’s self-destruct activated with a blinding flash. A powerful shock wave forced the trees to bow. Turning away from the smoking hole, we ran deeper into the forest toward the entrance to the mine. There was a clearing there—the only possible place for helicopter extraction.

The Survivor stared into the darkness as we set up a defensive ring. “They are all dead…” he said softly. He felt the ghost hunter’s life fade. He felt the soldier’s defiant explosion snuff out his life-force. A little girl ran out of the mine amid the smoke. The Survivor knelt down, and she ran to him, crying.

As he picked her up and held her close, he turned to me. “A shadow is pursuing her. It must not take her.” Joel and I ran to the entrance and peered into the darkness. We saw movement. We fired short bursts into the mine as the shrieks continued to echo.

I heard the helicopter approaching along the horizon. The security teams fired into the forest as the shadows circled around us. I knew what must be done. We would be left behind for the future of mankind. The shrieks intensified and grew in number as the helicopter hovered in the clearing. The Survivor ran to it and jumped in, setting the girl into a seat and buckling her in. He looked back at me, and our eyes met. No fear…

The Survivor’s Ascent

THE HELICOPTER LIFTED
us into the air, leaving behind just a handful of men to face the darkness. I had read no sense of regret in Rick’s mind and seen no fear in his eyes. He was strong to the end. I could feel the others weakening, though, and I could hear the gunfire and unearthly shrieks even over the loud blades of the chopper as we made for the horizon, until finally we were too far to hear the sounds of battle.

The little girl beside me, dressed in nineteenth-century nightclothes, carried a doll with a glazed porcelain head and a sawdust body dressed in multiple petticoats and a high-neck silk dress. She was thinking about the battle we’d left behind and the amazing fact that we were flying in a large metal whirligig, but she did not seem frightened. A strange power radiated from within her; she was unique. Her name was Hope.

We flew for a few hours. The pilot had informed us that we would be touching down soon. Aside from that, no one spoke. Finally, the helicopter hovered over a helipad and slowly descended atop a three-story building, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Moments after we landed, a man in military uniform opened the helicopter’s door and motioned for us to exit. I unbuckled the girl and carried her off the helicopter, following the soldier inside the building.

There we were met by a young woman in a tan suit. “You’ve done well,” she said to me. She stood in the doorway of what looked like a training area. I said nothing. “You will be employed as our specialist. You have proven yourself to be strong and resilient. You will be trained to unlock your full potential.” I knew what she had in mind and that I was not being given a choice. The girl was taken from me. She, too, would undergo training. Perhaps some good would come out of it somehow…

Part II

The Beckoning

SHE BECKONED ME
in a dream, her eyes beautiful, alluring. I watched as she was relentlessly pursued. “Come to me, my Warrior,” she said, pointing to a street sign. It held not only an address, but a date. An arrow pointed to an adjacent building: 11 Plymouth-Sorrento Road, January 1, 2009.

What did it mean? As I pondered, I caught a glimpse of what pursued her. It was a man in frame but a shadow in appearance. He laughed menacingly, pointing at me.

“You cannot save her,” he said, with an evil grin. A strange sensation overcame me. Was this not a dream at all but real? A message? The woman looked at me again, and our eyes met. She was so beautiful—how could she be real?

She vanished behind a door, and I remained frozen. The shadow followed her, still laughing. Everything went dark, and I woke up. The clock said midnight. I had been asleep for only a few hours.

Is that a real address, 11 Plymouth-Sorrento Road
? I wondered. I looked at the clock again and saw the date. The first of January in 2009. I sighed. The burning desire to investigate overpowered me. I slid out of bed, and I slipped on my nearest clothes, my uniform shirt and the black dress pants I wore with it. I hung my flashlight and holster on my belt, placed my EMF meter and infrared thermometer into
my pockets, and reached for my God’s Army hat. I left the house and started my car.

“She called me her Warrior. What did she mean?” I plugged the address into the GPS, and it was real—and local. I put the car in gear. I didn’t know what was going on, but I intended to find out.

The GPS led me to the address from the dream. It looked exactly as it had appeared then, too—a large, three-story building, like an office building or a hospital. I parked some distance away and approached on foot.

To the right, along the corner of the building, I heard rushing water. Shining my flashlight on the source, I saw a maintenance entrance to a sewer system, a tunnellike opening, like a subway entrance. It didn’t appear to extend down very far.

I left the underground entrance behind and approached the front door of the building. Before I could knock, a light flickered on inside, and a young woman peered through the window. Our eyes met; it was her. Her eyes—I could easily become lost within them.

“Open the door,” I said to her. She smiled, shaking her head no.

“I’m here to help. Let me in!” I called to her. She maintained her smile, turned to the right, and walked away. Behind her, a shadow followed—the same shadow from the dream. Its menacing laughter echoed loudly even through the locked door. I had to get inside. I couldn’t let her face the darkness alone.

I turned to the sewer entrance, adjusting my flashlight to flood.

Pipes ran along the ceiling and the upper half of the walls. Most were covered with a dense coating of rust. I figured it was my only way in, but I approached it with caution, taking the few steps down slowly. Once I was inside the small, square area, I shone my flashlight about. The water entered from the right, sluiced down a slope, and rushed toward the building. I pulled my EMF meter from my pocket and activated it. No readings…that is, until a shadow darted in front of me. Laughter echoed throughout the chamber, following the direction of the water.

The meter bounced wildly, the readings fluctuating. Then they stopped. The voice fell silent, too. I followed the direction from which it had seemed to come, but that led to a dead end. I glanced at the path that ran alongside the water. A valve moved, just behind me, turning slowly. I spun around and watched as it seemed to move on its own. The water drained quickly, and the valve stopped turning. I peered over the edge of the walkway into a newly formed path about eight feet down.

I pulled my head lamp from my pocket and fixed it on my forehead, centered above my eyes. I placed it on the point setting, a single beam of light that illuminated exactly where I was looking. Sliding my flashlight into its holster, I jumped forward and landed in a crouch on my feet in the center of the walkway. I stood quickly, drawing my flashlight and holding it forward as I started down the dark path.

Soon I reached another lever, against the right corner of the end of the path.
Odd
.
Why would a lever be kept underwater
? I glanced around then returned my gaze to the lever. I pulled it back cautiously and was rewarded with a click, followed by another click, then silence. I searched the walls, looking for a ladder, but found none. However, there were pipes running at different intervals along the wall. I grabbed on to the pipes, using them for footholds to scale the wall like a monkey, shifting my weight from side to side, using the momentum to extend my reach. When I reached the top pipe, I raised myself up and rolled onto the walkway. Standing quickly, I moved swiftly down the walkway and found myself looking up at an open hatch.

A ladder extended from it, just within reach. I jumped and grasped the lower rung with both hands and pulled myself up far enough to reach the next rung with one hand, then the next, then the next, until I had both hands and feet on the ladder. Rung by rung, I ascended at a steady pace.

Midway I paused. A chill ran down my spine. I pulled the thermometer from my pocket and held it out. The temperature below me was
around seventy degrees; oddly enough, the temperature above me was at least twenty degrees colder. Just as I returned the thermometer to my pocket, a cold hand grabbed my right hand.

I looked up quickly. My gaze was met by the cold eyes of a pale figure. “Warrior,” he said to me. “You must save her…but before you may do so, you must revisit the demons of your past. Learn from them… conquer them.” He held my hand firmly. I locked my leg around the ladder and released my grip on the rungs, grasping his other hand. He looked at me, surprised. Tears welled up, or would have, if he had been alive.

“It is too late for me, Warrior,” he said, despair evident in his voice. “But it is not too late for her. Find her. Save her.” He looked behind him then back to me. His hand trembled in mine, his eyes telling his story. The darkness had consumed him, and now it sought to take him back.

“I won’t let go,” I said to him, holding firmly. He groaned as the forces beyond him pulled at him, but when I continued to hold on, he smiled. A sensation of relief crept into his eyes as he stared into my eyes one last time.

“You will triumph, I know. Farewell, Warrior,” he said softly. A white cloud puffed from his mouth, blinding me. The hand that I held so tightly vanished, and he was gone, back into darkness. Or was he now free? I sighed, resting my forehead against the ladder, closing my eyes.