Chapter 20 The Attack
The attack.
“If you head up north, avoid the outermost west coast. There is a tribe over there, they call themselves the Children of the New World. Bunch of weirdoes, but they’re dangerous.
I met some of them as I was fishing in the Salish Sea.
We shared a meal and they tried to convince me to join them at their village.
They wanted me to meet their leader, Marcus.
I could sense they wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I lied.
I pretended to be excited, and then when I got back to sea, I sailed in the other direction.
They think the old gods are humanity’s redemption.
Fucking creeps, all of them. Be careful. ”
PERRI
“Fuck…” My hands are shaking as I put some clothes on in a hurry. The air is freezing. Moments ago I was cocooned in the shared warmth between Stellan and Alastair’s bodies, sound asleep and happy.
“Get your weapons,” Helios says. “You’ll come with us on the Beetle. It’ll be much faster than if you take the road with the truck.”
“Is it okay?” I ask just as Stellan nudges me out of the way to close the camper. Alastair is grabbing our small arsenal at the front.
Helios nods. “It was Griffin’s idea. He won’t admit it, but he likes you guys.”
My face is tense from the cold and nerves, but I manage a smile. “What a cutie.”
Beet snorts through his wristband. “I’ll tell him you called him that.”
“Please don’t,” I say.
She snorts again, so very human.
We run to the Beetle, her panels reflecting the first rays of sun.
She’s squatting on her six giant legs and the hatch on the side is wide open.
Griffin grabs my hand as I jump on board.
I was in the Beetle only a week ago, but it’ll be Stellan and Alastair’s first time.
Sure enough, I hear Stellan’s sudden intake of breath as he follows me through the passageways.
She’s a marvel of technology and comfort. A house on legs, like in fairytales.
Griffin’s eyes are wary of Alastair, armed to the teeth, following us in. But he relaxes when his brother offers him a firm handshake and a quick “thank you.” We hang on to the bolted down furniture in the living room as the Beetle lurches into movement.
“It should take us twenty minutes following the coast at top speed,” Beet says through the speakers. “If you get motion sickness, please head to the galley to vomit in a plastic bag.”
I nod to no one in particular. My stomach is already churning from stress.
They’re going to sacrifice Vex this morning.
I hope we’ll reach her in time. Will we be able to put her back together if they dismantle her?
Or are they planning on giving her as an offering to another old god?
There’s no way Scylla traveled all the way up north. Right?
“Do we know of any old gods nearby?” I ask.
Helios, who I’m aware has a fascination for the giant creatures, shakes his head. “Not that I know of. And we didn’t see any in the past week. They’re not really inconspicuous.”
I sigh, relieved. Dealing with a cult of zealots is already bad enough without adding an old god to the mix.
I stumble on my feet as the Beetle takes a sharp turn, and Stellan pulls me on to his lap on the green velvet couch.
Alastair is crouched in the middle of the red carpet, sorting out weapons and ammo with Griffin behind him.
This is it, I realize grimly. We’re really attacking. They’ll regret the day they took one of us. And they’re lucky we’re not out for blood.
The plan is simple: reach the island, get Vex, and disappear after releasing the other prisoners while the Beetle causes a distraction in the coastal town. We’re not above killing a few of them if they ask for it, but we won’t go out of our way to make them pay.
“I got in touch with the Firefly,” Beet says. “Jude and Oliver are awake and ready to offer air support.”
“Good,” I say. “Good…”
Alastair gestures towards the arsenal in front of him and smiles at me. “Take your pick, sweetheart.”
I laugh nervously and point towards the shotgun. “This one doesn’t require a good aim.” I know how to shoot, but I tend to lose my cool in dire situations and get clumsy.
Alastair hands me the shotgun. “Don’t shoot yourself in the foot.”
I glare at him. “My aim is not that bad.”
Stellan kisses the back of my head and chuckles in my hair. Now I have two over-competent and over-bearing lovers.
Griffin walks back and forth through the Beetle, unbothered by the motion. It looks like he’s developed the equivalent of sea legs—Beetle legs? He busies himself with what appears to be the explosives. I wonder how they’ll sneak them in the buildings now that the sun is rising.
Helios has a harder time moving around and walks like a crab. I would laugh if I wasn’t so tense. “I got you guys some warmer clothes,” he says, dropping a pile on the couch. “You’ll need it in this weather.”
We weren’t supposed to drive farther than California when we each left the Traveling Market, and none of us packed for a cold climate.
“Oh yeah, thank you,” I say, choosing a brown coat and a red scarf that definitely belong to Helios.
Stellan grabs the bigger coats, offering one to Alastair who shakes his head. “I’ll be fine.”
“We’ll be arriving at the boat in a minute,” Beet says through the speakers. “Get ready, guys.”
I scramble to my feet and almost fall head first but Alastair catches me. Then the three of us are walking through the passageway leading to the main hatch.
The Beetle comes to an abrupt stop.
As we gather near the exit, Griffin looks at us and says, “Good luck and be careful,” before opening the hatch with a swift motion.
Alastair is the first to jump out, then he waits for me with open arms and catches me smoothly before dropping me on my feet.
To my astonishment, he does the same for Stellan, who looks taken aback about the fact that the King can hold his weight so easily.
Stellan grumbles something but Alastair quiets him with a quick kiss.
Helios waves at us from inside, visibly worried.
Griffin closes the hatch and it shimmers before disappearing. We watch as the Beetle leaves behind giant footprints in the ground. The three of us are left alone on the beach.
There is a row boat on the sand near a hut that houses rusty fishing gear.
This place is remote enough from the village and appears to be abandoned.
We grab paddles and push the boat to the water.
The island looms in front of us. We can see the tip of the lighthouse peaking above the sparse trees, whose branches are dusted with the first snow.
Jude and Oliver told us the stone temple stands at the western side of the bigger island.
The sacrificial altar is on the second smaller isle, farther at sea, which is connected to the first one by a long, rickety wooden walkway and stairs.
They flew above it yesterday at our request, to make sure we didn’t go in blind.
We start rowing like mad men, our breaths fogging in the crisp morning air. It’ll take us a while to reach the island, and I hope we will make it before they sacrifice the prisoners. With some luck, the Beetle’s distraction will be enough to give us some time.
The wind coming from the ocean has a bite and the cold waves lap at our boat. I’m glad Helios had the foresight to lend us extra layers of clothes. Snowflakes come to die over the dark waters. The island is surrounded by rocks and islets, pale with snow.
We reach the bigger island in half an hour and give the dangerous rocks a wide berth. Jude provided us with a rough location for the landing, and we aim for the western shore.
I let out a sigh of relief when we reach the small dock carved in the rocks.
The wooden stairs are white with salt and must be suffering during every storm.
The stairs rise up the cliffside to the bridge between islands.
Why build their sacrificial altar in such a difficult location?
Couldn’t the villagers stand the sight of blood on their land? Hypocrites.
Alastair jumps onto one of the rocks and offers us each a hand up. We tie the boat to the dock. I hope it’ll still be there when we get back. The water is dangerously cold and I’m not sure Vex can even float.
Stellan starts the climb, followed closely by Alastair.
We pull our weapons out as we make our way along the rickety stair walkway towards the smaller island.
The stone temple on the big island looms behind us, ominous and primitive.
My hands are knuckle-white around the shotgun.
I set out in the wastelands alone to rescue Vex and prove I wasn’t just a pretty face with a brain.
Now that we’re actually walking into battle, I’m second-guessing this whole mindset and wish we could already be back at the Market.
As if sensing my fear, Alastair looks over his shoulder and smiles. “We’ve got this.”
I nod jerkily. “Let’s kick some ass.”
By the time we finish the long climb to the small island, I’m wheezing. We take a break, hidden behind some rocks as we leave the bridge, so that Stellan and I can catch our breaths.
Alastair is barely winded. “They’re standing at the altar,” he says, looking over the rocks towards the far side of the island, where the altar faces the open ocean. “They have the prisoners on their knees. Five of them. And I think Vex is bundled up on the altar.”
“How many cultists?” Stellan asks.
“Twelve. Eight men and five women. No children. With bows and arrows.”
“Shoot them all?”
The King grins. “I don’t see why not. They’re asking for it.”
I let out a nervous laugh. I’m not as bloodthirsty as the other two, but these people strung me up like meat for Scylla near San Francisco, so I’ll make an exception for them.
“Ready?” Alastair asks. When we nod, he adds, “Stay behind me, there is little cover. I can catch stray bullets and keep going. Trust me.”
Fucking fuck… I want to say, but too late, we’re already moving and hiding behind another rock formation just as an explosion echoes from the coast.
“Looks like Griffin has been unleashed on the village,” Alastair says, raising his gun.
As the first zealots turn and run towards us to the stairs to get back to the main island and check out the commotion, Alastair shoots a volley of bullets, dropping them.
The black rocks drink all the blood, sparing me the ugly truth of the attack.
Screams erupt from the prisoners and remaining cultists alike.
Stellan drags me behind him as we follow our king into action.
The stone altar was built over an outcrop by the waves. The prisoners are crawling on their knees, hands tied behind their backs, trying to get away from the half dozen cultists left.
Marcus, the zealots’ leader and the one who ordered me to be sacrificed, stands by the altar, fury etched on his face as the waves crash behind him. “You,” he says, eyes on me. He’s holding a long blade. Was he planning on cutting the sacrifices’ throats with it?
In front of him, the bundle of ropes moves, and Vex utters, “Perri.”
I was right, they tied her like a rucksack. Like a meaningless object.
“Me, you motherfucker,” I say, before raising my shotgun and shooting Marcus right in the chest. The recoil surprises me, hurting my shoulder, but Stellan stands right behind, catching me. Marcus doesn’t make a noise as he falls backward into the waves.
Stellan joins Alastair to fight the remaining cultists, only a few left. Alastair has two arrows jutting from his chest, but he doesn’t seem to feel a thing as he grabs the shooter by the throat and throws him to the rocky ground before shooting a bullet between his eyes.
In the matter of a minute, the attack is over. The zealots were wholly unprepared for our intervention, and terribly under-equipped with their primitive weapons.
Stellan reaches for Alastair, fingers trailing on the arrows sticking out of his chest. “Fuck…”
The King smiles. “It’s nothing.” He pulls both arrows out without even a wince. Blue blood stains his gray t-shirt.
As the both of them help release the four prisoners—one seems to have died during the fight—I run to the altar to free Vex. They have bent her limbs in unnatural angles and hidden her face with a bag of rough fabric. I pull out my pocket knife to cut the ropes.
“Oh my gods, Vex. Are you okay?” I say.
As soon as her artificial face appears, she smiles. “I’m fine. Oh Perri, you shouldn’t have risked your life for me like this.”
“Bah. Of course I should have. You’re my friend.”
As soon as the ropes fall to the altar, her joints and wires straighten, and she unfolds like a puppet. “Thank you, Perri.”
My eyes sting. We did it, we rescued Vex after weeks of a mad race through the wastelands and the west coast. I throw my arms around her cold shoulders and sob.
The sound of more explosions reaches us from the coast. I wonder if the villagers are fighting back or if they’re running away from the Beetle in fear. From time to time, the Firefly makes an appearance in the sky above the coast. They must be sinking any boat trying to reach the island.
The prisoners, once free, run away towards the temple on the larger island, at Alastair’s command, to find boats and escape. They’re on their own now, we’ve done our part.
Stellan and Alastair join us by the altar.
“Guys,” I say. “This is Vex.”
She smiles at them, her perfect teeth shining in the white morning sun. “Nice to meet you.” She bows gracefully.
Snowflakes are still lazily falling from the sky.
I shiver from the cold. Soon, the adrenaline will drop and I’ll crash.
I can’t wait to get back to land and drive away.
I want to sleep for an entire day, cocooned between the two men that I love without feeling guilty.
We’ll meet with the Beetle, and Vex can finally meet her wannabe girlfriend Beet in the flesh—or rather, in the panels and wires.
Impressive waves crash in the rocks behind us, splashing my back. I can taste the brine on my lips. Alastair comes to stand behind me to protect me from getting wet. I turn and smile at him, seduced by his thoughtfulness.
That’s when I notice Marcus rising from the rocks, wet and bleeding. His eyes are fully black—inhuman—as he brandishes his long blade. I scream as he brings it down over Alastair’s shoulder, cutting his arm off with terrible ease. Blue blood spatters on my face.
Alastair gasps and manages to push me away with his remaining arm just as Marcus skewers him in the chest before pulling him over the edge and pushing him into the waves.
The churning sea swallows Alastair, and my voice dies.
Stellan’s roar shakes the entire island.