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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 62 (v.1) - Myths & Legends

Submitted: June 12, 2019

Reads: 51

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Submitted: June 12, 2019




The cooks filled the bellies of the soldiers with a delicious barbeque of steak, ribs, pork and beef, and chicken for those who would eat it. It seemed the head chef already knew that most of the camp wanted the meat rare, red and some liked it still bloody. Nathan and Lethold were on their third helpings of the chow and David cleaned his second plate of rib-eye steaks and sauce-slathered pork ribs. Outside, guards walked the perimeter in pairs with checkpoints at all four corners, each sentried by a single soldier; all were armed with Arcas’s laser rifles, apparently, now mass produced, as well as having their normal weapons as a backup.

 David’s nose twitched; the chicken didn’t smell bad to him.

Since his first full moon after being bitten, or infected, his sense of smell had changed his life the most. He could smell things from miles away, and if he wanted, search for something specific, and could even smell disease and drugs in the people that he met. At first, some aromas were so strong they would overwhelm him, but he learned not to concentrate on the smell, and it solved the problem.

He also felt like he was nineteen again and was just as hungry. David considered having the chicken but wanted to be awake when they presented the developments to Arcas’s rifle. He’d noticed lately that he tended to over-eat and chalked it up to more rat lycanthropy taking hold of his actions and conscious. And while he was heavier, he was far more agile than he’d ever been.

He dumped his plate giving in on the eating contest and grabbed a cup of coffee heavy on sugar and cream. He sat down next to Nathan, who looked somewhat greyer around the edges than the last time he’d seen him. David supposed he would be too if he hadn’t been bitten. His grey hair had almost disappeared. Nathan wore a huge salt-n-pepper afro after having released his dreadlocks. “I flew with. Well, I flew in with the son of Zeus. You know him, I’m told. Or he knows you at least.” The huge black man’s eyebrows rose like question marks the size of summer caterpillars.

David nodded, bemusedly. “I do know him, but I didn’t know he was the son of a god. I met Arcas and Maahes in Detroit. What kind of bunghole was that place! Hard to imagine it was once the pearl of the Midwest.” Anamanda, Maahes, and Arcas sat talking at the far end of the table speaking in some language nobody understood, and Lethold stood in line for another plate. Rangers and pilots from the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment; colloquially known as the Night Stalkers, and their support groups stood in the chow line or sat the cheap folding tables eating and chatting. Many of them could not stop staring at the giant blue man as he lumbered among them, welcoming him to cut in line whenever he wanted, and saying: “Sir” a lot.

Nathan looked at him with a flash of amazement. “You also know Maahes is the son of the cat goddess Bast and Ra, the Egyptian pantheon. Sounds silly, doesn’t it, but it’s true? Aliens from Sirius.”

David shook his head like a jack-in-the-box, giving Nathan a suspicious cock-eyed stare that always confused people because of his lazy eye. “We’ve entered the twilight zone, that’s for sure.”

“I’ll say.” Nathan agreed; his brown eyes concurred. “There’s a war between the gods of Sirius and Orion over the Earth. In other words, politics as usual. The Orions pretty much won. It has to do with the closing of a gateway to Earth, I guess… Oh, and, and the flood to purge the world, to return it to its original inhabitants. Us.” He shrugged. “Or something like that.”

“You get all that from Arcas?”

“It was a long flight, and once you get that blue guy talking he won’t shut up, and I’m really interested in that alien thing and its connection to us.” Nathan laughed. “I love that stuff! Everything we have been told in school is a lie, but the whole myth and legend thing of the gods.” He laughed, leaning back in the small camping chair. “It’s not called the dog star by many cultures on the planet for nothing, you know. I guess the peoples of Sirius B were here first and then the Orion’s came and took over. The Orion’s are slavers, gold mongers. It was one of their own who turned on them. I guess, one of their people had a soft heart because of their hand in human evolution.”

“What’re you two rogues talking about?” Lil sat down with a half-eaten plate of steak and baked potato.

“Gods and aliens from other star systems and shit we really don’t understand,” David replied.

“I’m into that,” she said, sitting down in the seat next to Nathan.

Captain Edwards approached with two fellow rangers and a chopper pilot, also a captain. “Sorry to interrupt,” said captain Edwards.

“Go ahead, Captain,” David replied, standing.

“I have some men I would like to introduce.”

“We’re all ears. I can’t wait to see how these choppers are going to work. You know some of the undead can fly, right?”

“Did you get a look at the Gatling lasers attached to those babies,” Nathan expressed with boyish enthusiasm. “And on the Humvees too! I am so excited to avenge my mom!”

A strange silence fell upon everyone as they too had high-hopes.

Captain Edwards broke the group moment. “This is my counterpart, Captain Marz. He’ll be the guy flying one of the Black Hawks and commanding the air assault of the Apaches.”

Everybody shook hands and said a polite hello.

“And this is Sergeant Major Henderson and our newly appointed, Sergeant Valdez.” The younger sergeant’s helmet wore a crown that appeared to be the skulls of ratnoids. All the rangers smelled infected with the peculiar rat-lycanthropy like himself.

“Attention!” A Naval Commander barked for the assembled to come together as several officers and Admiral Meyer entered the main tent.

The military men in the tent snapped to attention. David, Lil, and Nathan stood for a closer look at their leaders.

 The Admiral drew everybody's attention to twin sixty-inch monitors, one containing a map, and the other an information display.

Sitting down at a computer and managing the PowerPoint screen, a redheaded female agent assisted with the presentation.

“This is advisor Tolson,” he indicated the redheaded woman. “Her information about the ratnoids and a King Lycan, specifically, is invaluable.”

An artist’s drawing of a bearded man showed up on one of the screens.

“Enemy number one and two. We hope to capture this male and have very little on the vampire, but she’ll be the one missing a hand, thanks to Lil.” Admiral Meyer acknowledged Lil with a smile. He then nodded to the Tolson woman, who scrolled through pictures of the possible enemies, or creatures they could encounter in the assault: vampires, werewolves, ratnoids, half-lights, and that they should expect anything.

Admiral Meyer directly addressed David. “You still able to drive a Humvee, Perez?”

Nathan piped up, assuring them. “He can drive! I’ve been there,” said the big man. “You bet your ass he can drive anything.”

David acknowledged that he could with a simple nod and embarrassed smile for the praise.

“Good, then.” He looked up and scanned the tent with baleful eyes. “Ya’ll have until sundown local time: 17:05 hours. At which time, I will call in the strike. With you, in it, if I do not get the call before launch time. We would prefer you to clean the place of its vermin so we can get the extraction team in there, but we also, we would love to wipe these evil creatures out, once and for all.”

“Why don’t they just bomb?” asked Valdez, “Oh, let me guess, there’s something inside our government wants?”

The sergeant received a disappointed glance from Captain Edwards.

Admiral Meyer looked at the young man. “Because son, a Tomahawk or a MOAB in a sovereign country is an international incident. Right now, our unit has only been blown off course by a sandstorm and a regrettably blocked satellite signal, understand?”

 Lips pursed in concern and anticipation, and several murmurs circulated through the tent, but not a single person argued with the orders or said another word. A glare from the ranger captain assured it.

“Captain Edwards, you’ll place the homing laser on the pyramid once inside the pit, if plan A fails.” Admiral Meyer returned a grim expression. “Wheels up at eleven thirty-eight hours, when the sun is at its highest point, so we can get a good clean landing in the center of the pit on the edge of the shadow and almost certain death.” He looked at them all, taking a deep breath. “Now, let me introduce to the big blue giant sitting among you, who designed the laser rifles and specialized suits you’re all wearing.” The admiral nodded to the blue man, who stood, and in doing, towered over everyone, his giant head nearly touching the top of the tent.

Nathan turned from the seat next to David. “Big badass mother fu…”

© Copyright 2019 Tim ArnZen. All rights reserved.


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