Heart of the Resonant- the Soldier's Tale Page 3

  Gasping and sweating from sprinting with full loads, we all stepped back and took a second to catch our breath.

  A second was all we were given when a sound from deeper in the shop forced our lungs to lockup. Heath slowly pulled his hand towards his stomach with three fingers held out. I swallowed hard and watched as he counted down.

  Three, two, one.

  We whirled around with our guns up. Standing before us were two people: a man and a woman. Like us, they were deathly still. A full minute rolled past, all of us stunned and staring at the abnormal sight.

  “Oliver, Judge, do you guys see an elf and a wizard?” Heath asked slowly and quietly.

  “Yeah,” we both answered, not quite believing it.

  The man wore a dark grey cloak over a rustic looking ensemble that looked more appropriate at Medieval Times. He was of an advanced age, maybe late forties, sporting a smoky goatee, adding to the somewhat intimidating lines of a hardened face. Strange, considering he carried no weapon and just held his palm out towards us. Senior looked of a modest build, but what the hell did he hope to accomplish against three men armed to the teeth?

  The woman, however, while making me feel as though she was just a figment of our collective battle-strained minds, looked to be more of an obvious threat. In either hand was a dagger; one held overhand in her right, the other held underhand in her left. Like the other, she wore the dated attire of burgundy leather armor with steel greaves edged with gold on her shins, and similar vambraces on her forearms. There wasn’t much else to note aside from the pointed-ears sticking prominently through her chin-length hair of bronze-brown.

  The elf’s platinum eyes bore the look of a killer. The wizard, while weary, watched us with a similar gleam in his dull, cobalt eyes. Both looked ready to throw down.

  Eons passed in our pseudo-Mexican standoff. No one made a move during the screeching silence.

  Until a guttural roar sounded from outside made all of us jump.

  Heath shot a quick look over his shoulder, the business end of the M240 still pointing at the crazy duo. A series of roars sounded then, the noise unlike anything a natural animal could make. Exhaling a breath through his nose, Heath lowered his gun, shooting either of us a look. Conceding, we lowered our rifles.

  The wizard and elf held their stance for several breaths longer. Then they lowered their arms.

  Heath took a slow step forward and pressed his one finger to his lips, then jutted his chin towards the rear of the pawnshop. The wizard nodded and whispered something to the elf. The pair backed away slowly, keeping their eyes glued to us. Heath directed Judge to the left; me, to the right. Soundlessly, we stepped past shelves and displays, the sounds of roars and grunts growing closer.

  Judge took point behind a battered gun safe; I slipped into the shadows in the far corner; Heath went behind the counter by the register and propped the machine gun on the countertop, sinking low and sighting at the window. The mysterious duo hunkered down low near a doorway that probably led to the storeroom by Judge.

  While I was getting all sorts of red flags from the pair, they weren’t currently out to savagely consume us. A portion of my focus kept a close watch to them in the corner of my eye, but I kept the majority of my attention to the front. Waiting.

  The windows were dirty, decade’s worth of gunk the store owner was too lazy to clean. I hoped the owner’s laziness would keep us hidden from prying eyes.

  Coming in from the left end of the window, a tall, humanoid shape stalked out, the black silhouette looking as if the reaper was coming to claim our souls. Another shadow came from the other side, and the two met in the middle.

  Sweat dripped from my chin as I looped my finger through the trigger guard, the pad of my index finger resting against the cool metal of the trigger, ready to start firing until the barrel turned red.

  More shadows arrived, all of them blending into a malignant mass of darkness from my perspective. My nerves stretched to their absolute limits, threatening to snap then and there.

  Once back on patrol in Syria, near the end of our two-week vacation touring the mostly abandoned countryside, we were caught up in an ambush. An IED went off too early in front of our convoy, but it did its damage to some infantry and vehicles and marked our arrival for the rebels. The irony of the ambush was that our tank got done in when Ji made a bad turn over a short stone wall, somehow managing to sheer all the bolts holding in the drive sprocket on the treads.

  The next three hours required Judge and me to replace the sprocket with a spare while under heavy fire. My hands shook so much that it made handling everything a bitch and a half. A ricochet bounced off my helmet, and that almost sent me over the edge. But, I got my marbles gathered, got the sprocket swapped, and we got the hell out of Dodge. Not after dumping some fire on the perceived threat, of course. The town was disheveled when we arrived — then leveled when we left.

  The tension I felt now was double that.

  Ji’s gone. Tank’s gone. But I reminded myself I was still alive, and I was sure as going to keep it that way.

  Something striking the bars on the window almost made me pop off a round. There was another sound, this one softer, like a kid running a stick along fence. The monsters outside seemed to roar and snap at each other like hyenas.

  The familiar thump of tank fire and the popping of small arms sounded then. The shadowy forms washed away from the window, their sickening roars lessening in volume every second.

  One minute became two. Two became four. And four become forever. All the while, concussive blasts of munitions went off in steady intervals in the distance.

  The departure of the creatures meant we were out of immediate danger. It didn’t mean we were any less screwed. Currently, we should be three city blocks away from the main convoy. Tanks and guns are loud. The blasts sounded too far away. If the convoy had to fall back, then things weren’t looking too hot.

  No Ji, no tank, and now no backup.

  “Lawe!” Heath hissed like a rattler. “Head out of your ass.”

  I let out the breath I’d been holding and shuffled over to where he and Judge gathered. Wiping the heavy sweat off my face, I shot a wary glance to the elf and wizard.

  Christ, identifying them as that is making me feel like a freaking lunatic.

  They rose from their crouch while I approached, their attention glued to us now that the boogiemen were gone.

  “What do you think?” Judge asked in a whisper.

  “I don’t like them,” I said, my voice loud enough for them to hear. My finger rested over the trigger, ready to fire at a moment’s notice.

  “Agreed,” Heath answered gruffly. “But they were spooked by those creepers. Safe to assume they're not in leagues with them.”

  “When you assume, you make an ass out of you and me,” I muttered.

  Judge consider them. “I think they’re friendly.”

  “Let’s find out,” I grunted, then started towards the pair.

  The elf raised her daggers, but the wizard was the first to step forward, holding out his palm. I stopped a foot shy, shooting the wizard a “really?” look. The geezer may have been a force to be reckoned with in his prime, but that was a good, long time ago.

  “Think very hard on this question,” I said coarsely. “Are you friendly or not so friendly?”

  The wizard stared for several beats, looked at his companion, and then back at me.

  “Lũ shivette conbali. Desh luel fesh ta bar?”

  “Did you just have a stroke?” The only thing I was able to gather was that the second part of his speech was a question if the inflection was any indication. I shot the elf a look. “How about you, long-ears?”

  Her brows knitted further with a scowl. “Kė sesh do gavish meskã,” she replied with an obvious nip in her tone.

  “Am I the one having a stroke, or did does it sound like they’re trying to gargle peanut butter?”

  “I heard gibberish,” Judge answered.

  “D
oesn’t sound like no flag-hating language,” Heath replied.

  I went to say something further when several shadows raced across the window. I whirled around as soon as the movement registered and waited.

  They were just passing by.

  I lowered my rifle and turned back; the pair still in their stances. They met my eyes once the panic passed. Since they clearly didn’t speak English, I relied on simple gestures.

  Making a big circle in the air, gesturing to all of us, I pointed to the back room, so we’d be away from the windows. Then, I punched my palm slowly, gesturing to the wizard and me, then wagged my finger in a “no-no” manner.

  It took a few seconds, but he caught my meaning. He spoke to the elf openly. She replied tersely, jabbed her finger at me a few times, then shook her head. There was a little back and forth, the geezer keeping his tone level; finally, she conceded. With her accordance, the geezer gave me and the others a look, then held a hand to the doorway before he passed through.

  With a fleeting glance to the window, I followed. Until long-ears held her hand out.

  “Velik gon da gõae,” she growled, then waved one of her daggers.

  “Yeah, yeah, and I’ll kill you, too,” I said dismissively and shoved past her.

  Another insult slipped from her mouth as I stepped into the darkened room. My own shadow blocked what little light reached the room, but the old guy wasn't here. Further ahead was another open doorway, probably to where inventory was gathering dust. I wasn’t able to see further when the elf shoved past and put herself under the frame.

  “Binjur,” she said.

  “Bitch,” I replied.

  I found the switch on the wall after feeling around when Judge and Heath came in. Sure enough, after flickering the switch a few times, no power. I pulled a handheld flashlight from my vest pocket and gave the room a quick pan.

  It was a cluttered office with dented filing cabinets along one wall, miscellaneous junk piled high on the other. A beat-up desk with a business chair behind it, and two folding chairs at the front. Wasn’t too cramped, at least.

  I set the flashlight base down on the desk, giving the room a poor cone of light, then set my ass in the business chair after dropping my pack. It seemed like this was the only thing of value in the entire damn pawnshop. Fishing out my cigar case, I pulled out my second to last cigarillo and lit up, keeping a very close eye on the elf while doing so.

  Heath and Judge sat on the folding chairs. With a grunt, Heath set the machine gun on the desk, then stripped off his pack and helmet, Judge doing the same.

  Still keeping vigilant watch on the elf, I asked, “Now what?”

  Heath took a long draw from his canteen then coughed. “Fuck if I know. We came down here to mobilize, expecting the worst. Riots, molotovs, small-arms fire, maybe even some improvised bombs. No one was ready for whatever the hell all that was.”

  Judge wiped off sweat from the top of his buzz-cut. “What do you think it was?”

  I blew out a bellow of smoke across the desk at him. “Don’t start quoting Revelations, please.”

  He knitted his fingers together and bounced his knee a few times, no doubt looking for connections from what we’ve just witnessed.

  Judge sighed and parted his hands. “Well, those things looked like demons to me.”

  “Ah, fuck. No more, you two,” Heath groaned. “That’s an order. We’re not going to be discussing any religious bullshit.

  “Oliver, check in that desk.”

  “For what?” I asked, pulling open drawers.

  “Hooch.”

  “Why the hell would there—” I stopped when the bottom-right drawer opened to have a half-full bottle of Jim Beam. “Huh. Looks like you’re not going thirsty.”

  I handed him the bottle, and he tossed the cap across the floor before taking a long draw.

  “Every businessman keeps a bottle handy,” he said when he came up for air. “Now, I lost count of how many of those things were chasing us; going back out seems like the dumbest option currently. However, if we hope to reconnect with anyone, we’re going to have to go back outside. Hope you boys understand my predicament.”

  “Hate to be the one rocking the canoe going up shit creek, but the convoy has most likely moved away,” I said. “Even now, the sound of combat is growing further and more infrequent. They’re probably going to fall back towards the highway.”

  “Sit tight, then?” Judge suggested.

  Savoring the smoke on my tongue, I blew it from my nostrils and nodded. “Sounds like the least stupid decision.”

  Heath nodded. “For now.”

  There was a small crash in the storage room. I stood and shot a look at the elf. She merely looked over her shoulder into the back room. Whatever it was, she didn’t look panicked.

  “The hell was that?” I asked her. A slip of the tongue on my part knowing damn well she didn’t understand me.

  I settled my cigarillo on the edge of the desk and approached her. As I neared, I could see a faint beam of light and heard two approaching voices. One voice belonged to the wizard; the other was female.

  The elf uncrossed her arms when I stood before her, her palms resting on the hilts of the blades strapped to her hips. Not bothering to waste my time with speaking, I jerked my head to what lay beyond the door and cocked a brow. She shook her head slowly.

  “Hiding something?” I asked, more for the others to hear than to interrogate her.

  “Conon dè fek dè sodeum,” she said in a hostile tone.

  Taking a step closer, I leaned into her face. “That sounds like a threat, sweetheart.” I left my rifle at the desk, but I kept my hand ready to draw my sidearm. I could pump her belly full of lead before she even got an inch of steel exposed.

  The tension grew incredibly thick in the room as that familiar gleam in her eye returned.

  “Neot,” a voice said behind the elf.

  The light from the back room drew nearer, and I was able to make out the wizard and another person in robes. After uttering some soft words to the elf, I knew she was the one I heard. The three of them had a little back and forth, the elf arguing something if her heated voice was any clue, then she relented and stepped back to make way for the new stranger.

  I took a cautious step away from the doorway and made room. The wizard’s flashlight proved more illuminating than the one I set on the desk. It was hard to tell what it was; it was small, putting out light in all directions like a pen-sized lantern. But my focus shifted to the lady in the robes when I got a look at her face.

  The elf would’ve been pretty cute if not for the bitchy attitude. This woman was an eleven out of ten. The dark-grey robes and drawn hood weren’t very flattering, but dammit if her face didn’t make up for that. Her eyes were such a vivid and bright coppery hazel that they practically looked orange. A splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks stood out from her otherwise spotless complexion that made it look like she just stepped out of some fancy French portrait. Small tresses of butterscotch-blonde hair framed her delicate expression.

  “You certainly don’t look threatening,” I commented.

  “Kũil dens mek caēdef nadiskastri,” she replied in a silken voice. She gave my squadmates a look, then turned her easy eyes back to mine.

  What she said remained a mystery, but it seemed like she was trying to amend the situation. If she didn’t want trouble, then I shouldn’t be the jackass to stir it up. I joined Heath and Judge back at the desk, both of them looking more confused as to what was going on with the third member of this bizarre trio.

  They congregated in a huddle at the other end of the room and talked. The wizard made a series of statements to the beauty, who then spoke and fished something from within her cloak. It looked like another light but was too dim and small, producing an odd golden bloom. It looked like some fluorescent rock attached to a chain. In the same hand was a ruby. She held up a pair of jewelry and waved around a few times. The wizard exchanged some words, tapped his
neck, and then made a gesture to us. The elf groaned and pointed to the front of the pawnshop, shaking her head before finishing with a self-suffering sigh.

  “What do you think they’re talking about?” Judge asked.

  Once I got towards the end of my cigarillo, I twisted it out on the desk. “If I had to make an educated guess, I’d say they’re debating on leaving.”

  “That wouldn’t be such a bad idea,” Heath huffed. “Not exactly comforting to being so close to a bunch of strangers who looked like they stepped out of a D&D game speaking some unknown language.” He dragged a hand over his face, then took another swig of the Jim Beam. “My brother and I used to play that back in high school. Wish he were here; that nerdy bastard actually learned Elvish.”

  “I highly doubt that would help,” I muttered.

  “If they did know anything about the monsters, it’s not like interrogating them would do anything,” Judge stated. “What would they even be able to offer? And putting that aside, what about us? What if…” he trailed off and reached for his cross. “What if this is some sort of apocalyptic event?”

  We shared wary looks. Without the adrenaline, we were forced to deal with the unease of the situation. Since the first sight of the monster, I haven’t even considered if this was happening anywhere else on the globe. All major communications are down, and the power isn’t working in the store, which means it may not be working anywhere else. Things were getting really ugly.

  “That’s not our concern right now,” I said, giving Judge and steady look. “Whatever the hell we’re dealing with, they can be killed. We’re not the only mobilized force. Other bases have been set up with heavy implements that could hold off an entire army. We just got blind-sided, alright? Not the end of the world. Not yet.

  “It’s a bit of a hike, but we should be able to get back to I-90 and on our way back to Rockwell. Better that than wandering the streets to find the convoy.”

  Heath slapped his knee. “To hell with hiking. Let’s borrow the nearest car. Wouldn’t be stealing with regular laws suspended. You understand all that mechanical shit, Oliver. Hotwiring shouldn’t be an issue.”