The campsite was rather large. A section of the olive grove had been felled to make room for three trailers for the men gathered here, I assume. All of these 20 or so men in the camp were well-armed and armored. They wore plated heavy kevlar dyed a bright white, with red threading. In the middle of these bulletproof jackets was a variation of the same sign that I’d been seeing since the beginning; a human skull, cracked and shattered by a dagger through the crown. They wear hoods that seem to be plated in a very similar fashion. Beneath these hoods are faces I recognize; some from the compound, and some from around town.
Each has a long arm, and a side arm — shotguns, ar-15s, revolvers, glocks. All matters of firearms. One truck with a mounted machine gun sat idle next to each trailer. Two guards were posted on raised platforms of old pallets looking out toward the road. Luckily, I was in Shadow’s form, high in the branches of a nearby tree, so they couldn’t see me. The rest were gathered around a pained fire, listening to someone; presumably the leader of this platoon.
“Unfortunately, the attack has been postponed again.”
“Why? We’ve been waiting out here for two goddamned weeks.”
That was met with a chorus of, ‘yeah,’ repeated by nearly every other person there.
“The Underking was killed.”
That brought forth a cacophony of mumbling.
“Was it the Sage?” The same person popped in again.
“No, it was Swashbuckle, her brother, Oak, and Sage’s brother.”
So it worked? Were they able to save Dylan? Maybe I should get a burner phone.
“For fuck’s sake. Garcia and Ortega were told not to let any of them into that door.”
Garcia and Ortega? I guess they're both traitors. I’ll kill them whenever I rescue Monica’s family.
“What are we waiting for now?”
“The Desert King has agreed to lend us a sizable force. They’re on their way right now.”
I’ve heard enough. They were followers of Roki, no doubt. That and they were the ones who had almost killed Clio. A surge of rage warms my body as I hop down to the ground, and shift into my normal form. I set my staff against the tree — using powerful magics against people to take their lives felt wrong, somehow. Like I’d cross a threshold, so I draw my dagger instead. Besides, these people were trying to take another member of my family away from me. I want to see the light leave their eyes. I grit my teeth and bite the inside of my cheek.
“Companion of mine, I require thy sight.”
The world shifts green, and the vision in my left eye is restored, temporarily.
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“You that bind the all, protect me from all that would do me harm.”
An invisible shield forms around me, and the glimmer catches the eyes of one of the guards.
“You, get the fuck outta here!” One of the guards points his AR at me as I step forward; sloshing loudly in the mud.
“Hey, isn’t that him?”
“What’s going on?”
“It is.”
“Holy fuck, we’re screwed.”
“I’ll radio it in.” The platoon leader fishes for a walkie-talkie from his waistband.
“Oh you ruler of Olympus, lend thy power to my steps.” I aim my dagger forward in a thrust.
BOOM.
Before any of them have a chance to fire their guns, my dagger had found the throat of the platoon leader. He gurgles as I pull the bloody knife from his gullet. The sky cracks in a splintered, yellow fork, as a crash of thunder erupts all around me. Bullets fall away from my shield, as I spin around and land a solid blow on the closest one. His face collapses as he is sent rocketing backward into one of the other people.
Three streaks of light zip by my head, and tear through the chest of a man with a shotgun to my right as Nyt provides support. I spin and jam my dagger into the face of another. He falls to the ground; yanking the weapon out of my grasp.
They fall back away from me, firing all the while, and I’m pushed back a little as my Repel begins to crack. One of the human followers of Roki had the good sense to hop onto the back of one of the trucks. A few shots from the belt-fed machine gun completely broke my Repel, and one punched a hole through my left shoulder. A massive Earth Spike of compact mud and soil erupts from beneath the bed of the truck, sending it flipping skyward as I retreat by a row of sandbags, and quickly begin to heal the two holes torn through flesh and muscle. The man holds on for dear life, but the rain didn’t help much with his grip. He falls into the mud, and the truck comes crashing down on top of him and a few others near him.
A few begin to pull out of the camp.
“Nyt! Make sure not a single one of them escapes.” I call as I cast wave after wave of Lesser Healing on my shoulder.
Five streaks of light stop those fleeing. I reach out from my cover and take hold of the barrel of the platoon leader’s rifle; half buried in the mud. I don’t know my way around a gun, so I stare down the barrel to make sure there’s a bullet inside. Once I catch the glimmer of brass way at the bottom, I flip it over and press it to my shoulder.
“Sage! Why are you doing this!”
“You tried to kill my dog.”
“That’s the only reason? Really? A dog?”
I peek out and fire a bullet in the direction of the voice. It skims off the top of the person’s plated hood hidden behind the overturned truck. I duck back down as a hail of bullets sink into the sandbag and whizz into the air behind me; striking the trunks of the trees and splintering them.
Ah, damn my random bursts of morality. Why didn’t I bring my staff? Wait...with the contract with the Salamander, shouldn’t I be able to use fire magic without hurting myself? I glance at the truck; a bullet had pierced its gas can, and the foul-smelling fluid had begun to pool on the ground beside it. Images of a massive explosion sending shrapnel dozens of yards in every direction fill my head. Yeah, let's not.
Earthen Spike.
I split the stream of earth mana into three, and erupt the spikes into the side of the truck on the side facing me with enough force to roll it over on top of those hiding behind it. One of them scrambles out, and Nyt, apparently having returned from killing those that ran, puts an arrow into him. Two more manage to squeeze out from under it by digging into the mud, as they stand I fire a couple shots into the blackness of their hoods. The first falls backward, and the second falls forward as the bullets punch holes through their skulls.
“It’s just a dog, bro! You’re really doing this for a dog?” The pained voice of the last traitorous human cries as he tries to pull his legs free from the weight of the truck.
I push myself up and throw the rifle into the muck.
“Just a dog? Clio is my family.” I say as I walk over to the truck. “You’d think I’d let you fucks take another member of my family from me?”
“Get back!” He turns his body towards me and fires three shots with his pistol. At the caliber, the bullets are nothing more than a bee’s sting. I kick the gun out of his grasp.
“Look, man! I’m sorry! There were orders. Just let me live and I won’t say a word, promise.”
“Let you live? Why should I do that? You were ready to go into town and start killing innocent people, why?”
“Okay, I’ll renounce my ties to Roki! Promise!”
I step on the truck with all of my weight. The man screams as I hear the popping of his bones being crushed.
“You’re only doing that out of self-preservation.”
“I’m sorry. Please.” He lets out a whimper.
“Let’s see...you like taking helpless things and tossing them into rivers, right?”
I bend down and pick the truck off of him before grabbing him by his hair.
“Let’s go.”
“No! Please! Please!”
Fuck, I can’t drag him all the way there. He’ll scream the entire way, and the sleeping spell wasn't powerful enough just yet to get him all the way to the river. I toss him to the ground and kick him in the ribs to roll him over onto his stomach. He tries to pull his head out of the mud, but I push down on it. This’ll be a worthy replacement.
He squirms and tries to punch backward at me or push himself off the ground. Bubbles pop in the mud by his face as he screams into the thick mucks, and thrashes madly for survival. Soon, however, the bubbles stop, and his body goes slack and still.