CHAPTER 12: ATTACK
The Defense Militia was high up in the air, above even the Gorilla. Their plan was simple: to drop bombs on the Gorilla from above. This would avoid any unnecessary casualties at the cost of perhaps some extra bombs. Arthur thought of this plan, and thought that the trade-off of using up the supply was definitely worth it.
Upon the General’s command, the Militia activated and promptly dropped bombs over the Gorilla Mayhem. Half of these bombs bounced off of it and detonated away in the air, but the others exploded on its body or nearby. It was hard to tell how much damage they did, with the insides of Mayhems being black also, but some purple liquid oozing out told them that it did have an effect.
“What’s the matter, Drake? I thought you’d say something like: ‘This method is no fun’,” Jord imitated.
“Ah. Well… this one is different. I think our safety is worth not having fun this one time…” Drake responded. He himself wondered why he was fine with this. It was a weird violation of his character. He clutched his necklace for comfort.
The Gorilla groaned and stopped moving forward. It was clearly still alive. It looked up to see the source of its suffering: some prey. The giant Mayhem attempted to lift its arm to reach the humans. They had, in anticipation, positioned themselves so that they were too high to reach. But the Mayhem, which was supposed to be too stupid to calculate distance and try to reach them anyway, stopped its hand from going up halfway. Once it passed its neck, it dropped the hand back down to its side. Drake and the others knew why. It was the same reason it was walking so slowly: The Square-Cube law.
The Square-Cube law is a basic mathematical principle that shows that, as an object grows in size, its volume increases at a rate much faster than its surface area does. The most important application of this in biology is the size of animals: Animal species only exist up to a certain size (you don’t find land animals larger than an elephant) because the larger they were, the more difficult it was for them to move around or breath. The cross-sectional area of the larger animals’ bones and muscles are not scaled to support the cubed volume or weight they have to carry or move. The subject is important in the fields of biology and zoology and is called Allometry.
Drake and the others had learned this law in their classes, as it had important applications in Mayhems. It explained why they were slow and also why Mayhems with wings couldn’t fly; otherwise, they could’ve easily gotten over the Walls.
The Gorilla stared at the group of humans for a while. With its lack of intelligence, it couldn’t think of any way to reach its food. So now, having no way of fighting back, the Gorilla got down on all fours and turned its head down. It was a natural pose for a gorilla, to be on its fists. But the Gorilla grabbed a nearby smaller Mayhem, which was confused, and stuffed it into its mouth. It was eating another Mayhem.
What!?! They can do that?!? Drake thought.
More incredibly, the gorilla’s wounds seemed to be healing. Within a few minutes, all the damage the Militia had done with their precious bombs was gone. This was a complete surprise to everyone.
Among all animals, apes and dolphins are known to be the smartest, having the closest level of intelligence to humans. Perhaps this reason was why this Ape had been clever enough to realize that, apart from humans, eating other Mayhems would also enlarge its body and heal its wounds. This explained how it had gotten so big in the first place. Rather than directly eating humans, it ate Mayhems that had themselves collected humans within them.
Everyone looked to the General for their next course of action. He thought aloud quietly: “Hmm… Any damage done will be meaningless if it has a food supply. So, before we attack it, we have to get rid of each and every one of the surrounding Mayhems. The most efficient way to do that would be to lure them away while flying out of their reach… Even after that, we have to think of how to defeat the giant one, since the bombs aren’t too effective when we’re dropping them from above… Hmmm… I don’t think I can find a way to kill it or win, but let’s deal with this one step at a time.”
“Alright. Listen up,” he announced. “The Defense Militia will be splitting into two groups. One will be led by Commander Rein and Commander Eric and the other by me and Commander Sarah.” Arthur knew that Rein had practice with luring away Mayhems. “You are to follow your preassigned Commander. Rein’s group will be in charge of safely luring the surrounding Mayhems away from the big one, and keeping them away, while my team will be busy slaying it. My team, we’ll go into details later. Rein will give the details to his now. Any questions?”
Drake requested to be moved to Arthur’s team temporarily so that he can fight the Gorilla. The request was approved. Arthur had heard from Rein about Drake’s offensive capabilities against Mayhems, and thought he’d do better in his team since they were the ones fighting. Jord also joined Drake. Everyone else complied and went to their teams.
* * *
Drake stared at the moving giant in a way he had never seen a Mayhem before. For once, he had an important reason to kill it: to save the city. He felt a sense of urgency in this task, as well as weight. He couldn’t fool around. He had to take this seriously and put all his effort into killing it.
“Drake, we’re up.” Jord brought him back to reality. “You’re being weirdly aloof.”
“Oh, Nah. I actually daydream a lot.”
“Huh, really? You’re so focused in class… Anyway, the smaller Mayhems here are cleared away. We will fight now.” It was rare to see the words ‘small’ and ‘Mayhem’ in a sentence together.
Drake smiled. “Finally. Some action.”
The soldiers there, led by General Arthur, swooped down to the Gorilla. They remembered to remain above its shoulder height, where it couldn’t reach them easily. If it tried, they could escape in the meanwhile; it was slow. They then pulled the pins and threw the bombs at the Mayhem. They successfully detonated. The Gorilla could not resist nor defend against the attack. It could only make sounds of frustration and pain, that is if at all it felt any in the first place.
There was no strategy involved with this attack. Arthur simply wanted to find more information by testing out how the soldiers could fight it. There was no better option. There was only half an hour until the Mayhem reached the city. The best thing they could do was cut off the tendons in its legs. Cutting the Achilles’ heel would cripple it. Then it wouldn’t move, and they could take their time. However, this would be a last resort, for the monster’s arms could easily reach its legs, and attack them if they went there. The only safe places to attack were the neck and head, where they could easily react in time and escape during its attacks or were out of reach. Anything below the neck would require taking chances and dropping bombs, which wouldn’t be very effective. Further, their supply of bombs was limited, and they couldn’t waste them like that. By attacking the head, once they made enough impact, they could perhaps use swords or bullets to repetitively penetrate the skull or spinal cord. Breaking through either of those would kill it. Mayhems could still operate perfectly without non-vital organs, so they had to go for something that they couldn’t live without. However, Arthur doubted they could break through those tough bones with mere swords or small bullets. If only they had a better weapon. One with precision and power.
The Mayhem got down on three legs, and with its fourth, tried with tremendous effort to attack the humans by waving its arm above, similar to how one would wave away mosquitos buzzing around their ears. The humans simply flew away, and it couldn’t reach them. Rather than chasing them, it continued for the jackpot of humans: Rencia. It was certainly smarter than the other Mayhems, which always follow the prey easiest to get to. The Militia’s location of attack seemed to be safe, and the Gorilla lacked the common sense to even try to cover its neck.
“No matter how smart they are, they’re always focused on offense,” Jord commented. “Kinda like someone here,” he looked at Drake and smiled.
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Drake got angry. “Hey! Don’t compare me with them!”
“Alright! It was a joke… But anyway, I’m not sure whether this is a good thing or not. It could be used to our advantage if we focus on attacking as you usually do.”
Drake hurled one of his last few bombs randomly towards the direction of the Mayhem. It fell short and blew up somewhere in the air. “Uh, huh.”
Jord laughed. Before Drake could react, Arthur told everyone to start using guns and swords. He’d determined it safe enough to approach the Mayhem with caution. Everyone did so.
I still can’t think of a good way to defeat this thing, Arthur thought, I’m really out of my league fighting a Mayhem here… We’ll concentrate attacks in various places and see which works most effectively. He was getting nervous. They were near the Walls now. They didn’t have much time. Maybe fifteen minutes.
The soldiers with their weapons were like mosquitos to the giant. Whenever an arm came towards them, they flew away quickly and came back to continue their annoyance.
Like a mosquito, the soldiers couldn’t do any significant damage past the flesh. The bones were made of stone; no one could break through it. Getting through the muscle itself was an achievement.
Drake went to the Gorilla’s eyes. He thought if he could dig through the eyeball, he’d end up inside of the Mayhem’s skull, and he could then destroy its brain. He used his sword and cut into the pure black eyeball that had frightened him before. Black liquids started spewing out of the cut. The eyelid closed reflexively and the creature groaned slightly.
“You guys never scream or cry in pain, do you? Do you even feel anything, or is everything a reflex to you?” Drake complained. “Oh, well.”
He continued cutting through the eyelid and into the eyeball. It looked quite painful. The retinal fluids—clear vitreous gel mixed with a dark liquid—that came out as Drake scooped rubber-like material out of the eyeball covered Drake’s clothes, but he didn’t care. He had to kill this thing. The stakes were high this time. He heard some yelling behind him, drowned by the noises of the Gorilla’s pain and its footsteps as well as Drake’s focus on his task.
“What?” Drake turned around to face a giant leathery black hand. “Oh.”
The hand grabbed him; he was pinched in between its thumb and index finger. He’d forgotten to be careful while he was focused on his important work. It could evidently reach its eyes when its head and body were bent down and it used full effort. The grip of the hand was so strong that Drake’s jetpack broke, along with a few bones. He cried in pain. The Gorilla lifted him up above its jaw and opened its mouth.
This is it, Drake thought. He was going to die right here and now. He had many regrets. Getting his mother killed and letting Billy down. He knew it would eventually come to this. Just not so soon, before he could make an impact, before even passing the examination to become a full-fledged member of the Defense Militia. If only I could have killed more Mayhems. Well, thinking back, making an impact wasn’t really the point to this. What was it again? What was the point of his fighting and dying?
He looked behind him. There were some Militia members trying to fly to him, but they wouldn’t make it in time. Behind them, were the Walls. Drake remembered that his father was in there. So were Steve and Doctor Poll and all his friends. They would probably die soon. Drake thought he would be prepared for this moment, but he wasn’t. He didn’t want him nor his friends to die.
Drake resolved himself. He would try to survive through any opportunity he could get right now. What could he do to survive? He looked on himself. His free arms could grab a bomb; it was his last one. Without thinking, he bit off the pin and threw it into the Gorilla’s mouth. Even if it won’t save him, at least he could do some damage and seize any opportunities he could with the sudden change in the situation. The bomb blew up, covering the mouth with smoke. The Gorilla loosened its grip in surprise. Drake used all his strength to break free. He saw blood on his body that the fingers had previously covered. It was red. He ignored it. He ignored the pain also.
His jetpack was broken, so he couldn’t fly away. The Militia members were too far away to get him. He peered over the wrist of the monster and saw that the explosion didn’t do much damage. He only had that split second in which the Gorilla was dazed. If he were to fall out of its hand, he would fall down and land on the ground one-hundred and seventy yards below with a splat. If he were to leap forward a bit and fall, he would end up right in the Gorilla’s mouth. All of his choices seemed to lead to his doom. But he chose the one that was most unpredictable and he could have a chance in. He took a deep breath in and used the strength in his arms, which weren’t broken, to push himself off of the hand and onto the teeth of the Gorilla. There were still clouds of smoke. He looked over the ledge that separated him from a great height that was its mouth and stepped back, into its mouth, before the jaw closed. He was now laying inside of its mouth. There wasn’t much space in there, despite its size. He couldn’t breathe, and he couldn’t see. Murky saliva mixed with the dark blood of the Mayhems this beast had eaten before blinded him. He knew there was only one way he could go, and the tongue instinctively pushed him that way: down the throat.
As Drake traveled down the long esophagus, he tried to grasp onto the slimy walls that surrounded him. Muscles contracted above him to push food down the throat. Drake reached for his trusty sword and pierced it, with all his strength, into the walls. After traveling down a few yards, he came to a stop. The sword acted similar to how a pickaxe would in mountain climbing. Drake furthered the sword in the tissue, ensuring his position was secure. He used one hand to hold the handle of his sword-his lifeline-and the other to rub his eyes. He opened them, only to see pitch black. This was to be expected; there was no light source there. Drake caught his breath. He was, figuratively, in the belly of the beast. If he were literally in its belly, he would instantly be dead. Mayhem stomachs used strong chemicals that almost instantly decomposed the food entering them. And they had the ability to instantly absorb those nutrients to grow or regenerate. If Drake fell down right now, he would die very quickly, with no time or way to escape.
The digestive chemicals and enzymes were so powerful that the gases that they released were toxic to breathe in. This meant that the air that Drake was breathing in, which came from the stomach below, was poisonous. He had to leave this throat fast. But how? He couldn’t exactly dig his way out. Even if he could cut a hole in the walls of the throat to escape, it would take too long. Also, he could end up in the trachea, which was better, but not a solution, or hit the rock-hard spinal cord; he didn’t know which wall he was hanging on to.
Drake concentrated his thinking power. He had always daydreamed about all sorts of possibilities. He had to use that now to do something. His creative mind finally had its time to shine and be useful. Drake spent a precious minute trying to think of a way out of the esophagus. Mayhem blood, saliva, and sweat mixed on his body, and together with the damp and toxic air, the tight space, and the abyss that loomed below created a feeling of discomfort and nausea. Eventually, realization dawned on Drake that there was no way for him to escape. By now, he was feeling dizzy, an effect of the gases around him. In a minute, he’d probably, quite literally, fall unconscious.
The unfortunate reality came to him: He was going to die, no matter what he tried or how much he didn’t want to. So his thoughts shifted. In a few minutes, the Gorilla would reach the city and kill his remaining friends and family. How much damage can he do to the Mayhem before he died? Any effort to hurt this monster was worth it. Every second before his death not used to attack and help the Militia outside kill the Mayhem was a second gone to waste.
A weak smile came upon Drake’s face. He had an idea. He took what remained of his broken jetpack off from his back. The computer and other parts were broken, but the canisters of chemicals were intact, as he suspected. In order to keep the Jetpacks running for hours, a large source of energy was required. The chemical reaction that occurred inside the pack was highly volatile and explosive, more so than even nitroglycerin. Normally, the rate of reaction would be handled by the computer in the pack, but when the jetpack is broken, it could happen without control, and the jetpack could explode. This was why the soldiers had to make sure it wasn’t damaged in a fight. The fact that Drake’s hadn’t exploded until now meant that the chemicals didn’t accidentally touch each other. Drake knew the reaction from a boring chemistry lecture at the Quarters. He never thought it would be useful.
Drake used his one hand and mouth to forcibly open the canisters, careful to segregate them and he placed them on his lap, which acted as a sort of table to work on. He accomplished this by curling up his body. The physical training of pull-ups and sit-ups became useful now that his life depended on them. It hurt to use his muscles, considering his few broken bones, but he bore through it.
When he was done preparing, he took a few breaths; they would be his last. He quickly connected the open ends of the canisters, allowing the contents to mix into one of them. He then dropped everything on him down the throat. The chemical clock was ticking. The reaction took about fifteen seconds to start producing thermal energy. Once it did, though, with the sheer amount of mixture that he had prepared, it should produce a ton of energy, and result in a big explosion.
Drake chuckled. So this is how it ends. All that buildup in life, all those aspirations or lack of. He frowned. He should have given up by this point. He should have resigned to the inevitable doom that awaited, but he wanted hope; a possibility that he could survive the explosion and gases. With a sigh, he rubbed the walls of the inside of the throat, trying to irritate the skin. Sure enough, the natural response of muscles contracting and moving the walls into a closed ring that moved down the esophagus came. Drake braced as the walls tightened around his body, reducing his yard or so of space to nothing. He stuck to his place, and the effect moved down. This was the process of swallowing. He hoped that this wall of muscle between him and the reaction below would protect him from the impact. After a painful fifteen seconds of anticipation, the explosion could be heard. It was big, alright. And very loud. Flames broke through the wall Drake had made for himself and shot upward. He could feel the sudden heat as the flames got closer, eating up the black tissue of the Mayhem along the way. They weren’t satisfied; they didn’t slow down. Drake used his arms and legs as a shield by curling up around the sword and protecting his face. Even with his eyes closed, he could see the brightness and feel the warmth as death headed towards him. And…