Tribulations (Rogue Mage Anthology Book 2) Page 9

“Yes, you’ve said, Davey. And Jeep is a mule too?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you served her? She must be autonomous, then.”

  “No. Jeep serves Alaska Stanhope.”

  “And this Alaska, is she a mule?”

  “No. I honestly don’t know what she is. She isn’t a mule or a neomage. She’s something different. She has some powers we’ve seen. Things we can’t do. She’s just weird.”

  “Well, there went that argument,” Brother Hope sighed. “Help us, and don’t call me master, and you can gladly stay with us.”

  “Yes, master . . . I mean, yes, sir . . . mister . . . uh, Brother Hope.”

  Brother Hope shook his head. “So, besides you two, who did this Jeep send to help us hold the town? And how did she know we needed help?”

  Davey shook his head, “Nobody but us. As for how Jeep knew to send us, a watcher named Rama told her. He knows just about everything that happens around Kings Mountain. He said there’s a hellhole nearby, and that something powerful was unleashed in the mines.”

  “Yes,” Lizbeth said, looking around her, “we’re aware of that.”

  “Yeah. Well, there’s a lot of things like that happening, but we don’t get involved in all of them. Rama must have had some special reason to be interested in you guys. So Jeep sent us to do what we could. Our transport truck, minus the boxes, is big enough to carry your wounded. If you want my battle-hardened opinion, I’d say we move out at first light. Right, brother?”

  Colin nodded.

  “This is our home. We’re not abandoning Trinity.”

  The mule stared at the kirkman, but saw no weakness or doubt in his eyes. “I’d suggest you pray on that one tonight, Brother Hope. But Jeep said to follow your lead. In the meantime, we need to secure the supplies we brought. We should be safe enough out there now. Any spawn that we didn’t kill will be too scared to pull anything more tonight. You have some folks you can spare to help us?”

  “I’ll go with you,” chimed in Lizbeth.

  “We’ll both accompany you. Grady and Kol will look after everyone here while we’re gone,” said Brother Hope. “Got that, Grady?”

  “Yes, Brother Hope,” Grady said. “I’ll keep them safe.” Kol nodded his agreement.

  “We left the truck just outside of town, and fought our way in from there,” Davey said, as the group closed the door behind them and they walked into the street. “We’ve got weapons, food, clothes, medicine—everything Alaska and Jeep thought you might need. We’ll take point.”

  Brother Hope carried a lantern in one hand, a handgun in the other. A half moon low on the horizon provided additional illumination. Beside him, Lizbeth scanned the area with her rifle. She kept her night-vision goggles around her neck, in case she needed to separate from Hope during a fight. The brawny mules held huge swords in two-handed grips, ready for anything that might leap out at them.

  Not needing the lantern’s light, the brothers ranged forward, quickly outdistancing the humans. Hope and Lizbeth moved more slowly, their boots crunching, revealing their presence further. They couldn’t hear or see the twins, and so crept down the road.

  At the edge of town, they saw vehicle lights ahead. There was more than one pair.

  “More than one truck. Did Davey’s friend Jeep change her mind and send more help?” asked Lizbeth.

  “He sounded pretty certain that it would be just him and his brother.” He strained to see anyone behind the lights.

  Three shots rang out from the direction of the vehicles, a pistol blasting away the silence. Brother Hope and Lizbeth fell flat to the ground, and Hope turned off the lantern.

  “Looks like your man is rusty, Harper!” Davey yelled out. “Couldn’t hit the nut sack of a large dragon, that one.”

  More firing followed. The handgun and a few rifles this time.

  “Oh, that’s terrible, fellas. What’s Suarez teaching you guys nowadays?”

  One of the twins tumble-rolled in front of the headlights and rushed to the doors of the truck on the left, pulling it open. A man screamed and was thrown into the night.

  Brother Hope glanced at Lizbeth. “If we’re going to be any help, we have to get out of the glare of those lights.”

  Lizbeth leaned over to kiss his cheek. “You should find some cover and do what you do best, Leon: Inspire us with the Light—and take a few shots. Give me a prayer and keep yourself out of trouble.” She pulled on her night-vision goggles and took off at a jog to the right, away from the lights.

  Swords clanged as Brother Hope low-crawled by moonlight toward cover: a broken-down cart to crouch behind. “Be safe, Lizbeth,” he whispered and started a prayer. “Be merciful unto me, O God, for my soul trusteth in Thee. In the shadow of Thy wings will I make my refuge, until these calamities be overpast. My soul is among lions, and I lie even among them that are set on fire, even the sons of men, whose teeth are spears and arrows, and their tongue a sharp sword.”

  He let his eyes adjust to the light conditions, his Army training coming back to him. Finally, Hope saw at least five people moving near the trucks. Some were as inhumanly fast as Colin and Davey. Mules, no doubt.

  Then he saw the source of the clanging. Moving in and out of the light, one of the twins—Colin he guessed, from the lack of chatter—artfully danced in savage-blade style, his sword swinging, fighting two dark-haired, similarly skilled opponents, weaving in and out of their attacks. Colin’s dance was beautiful, and he cut one with an upward thrust as he did a split to the ground and rolled up to meet the other. The blond lifted his sword to block a blade, and tumbled a few feet away. Trusting that Colin could hold his own for the time being, Brother Hope aimed his rifle at a pistol-armed attacker who was lining up a shot at Colin.

  “They have prepared a net for my steps; my soul is bowed down. They have digged a pit before me, into the midst whereof they are fallen themselves.” Brother Hope fired. The attacker with the handgun jerked. He fell forward with a crunch, blood spouting from his chest.

  “I will praise thee, O Lord, among the people. I will sing unto Thee among the nations. For Thy mercy is great unto the heavens, and Thy truth unto the clouds,” Hope thundered, aiming and shooting one of Colin’s attackers through the throat.

  Hope heard a shot from the direction Lizbeth had run off to. It struck the leg of the other swordsman fighting Colin. Provided an opening, Colin quickly finished off the wounded attacker and darted away.

  His hiding place compromised, Brother Hope dashed to the cover of a burned-out building. From this new vantage, he could see the other combatants.

  Further down the lane, Davey approached another man. The other man shouted, “Hold your fire, boys. This one’s mine!” Hope could see light reflecting off the man’s bald head as he faced Davey with sword in hand.

  “I hope you won’t run this time, Harper,” Davey said. “Our unfinished business needs, uh, finishing—with your death, that is.”

  “You can stop your trash-talking, deserter. It’s not my day to die. In fact, today’s the day I bring your head to Suarez. Your brother’s too.”

  “You always were a dreamer, Harper,” Davey said, moving mule-fast to attack, slashing his blade at Harper’s head. Harper parried the attack with his own sword, ducked, and swept a leg to take out Davey’s, but the blond mule jumped, avoiding the sweep. Judging from how the man’s movements mirrored Davey’s, Hope guessed that the other man was also a well-trained fighting mule.

  Brother Hope crept along the wall of the building, trying to get close enough for a clear shot at Harper. Just as he got settled, Hope saw Davey strike Harper across the temple with his sword’s pommel. A cut formed, and blood oozed from Harper’s forehead, blood that looked black instead of red in the uneven light. Pressing his advantage, Davey cut, cut, thrust his blade into the off-kilter mule’s torso, yelling, “For Jeremiah!” even as Harper’s head wound stitch itself together into smooth flesh.

  “What the—” Davey exclaimed, echoing Brother Hope’s
thoughts.

  Harper rose from his squat, looked down at his chest, dark fluid leaking out of the punctures. The mule stepped fully into the lights from the trucks, and Brother Hope could see that the blood on his chest and head really was black. The bald mule smiled. “Suarez made some improvements to his favorites since you and I last met, Davey. We’ve received infusions from our master. I heal much quicker now,” he said. His chest wounds were knitting back together before Brother Hope’s eyes. “I’m stronger, too,” he said, “and faster.” Hope could hardly follow Harper’s movements as he stabbed Davey in the gut, punched him in the face, and knocked him to the ground before the twin could react.

  Harper stood over the prone form. With both hands on his sword’s hilt, he brought the weapon above his head and was about to thrust it into Davey’s neck when the sound of a rifle rang out, and Harper yelped in pain. Then he shouted something at the top of his lungs, words that Brother Hope didn’t recognize, but that felt wrong.

  “My soul is among lions, and I lie even among them that are set on fire,” Lizbeth yelled from underneath one of the trucks. “I learned that one from you, Leon. Plus a little Dead Sea salt to stir up that evil blood. Ah, what the heck; have another.” She pulled the trigger again, a second bullet striking Harper in the center of his back.

  Harper jerked as the blood oozing from the bullet holes burst into flames. Davey dragged himself away. The flames spread to engulf Harper, who screamed and dropped to the ground, but Brother Hope saw that the mule’s rolling in the mud and dirt did nothing to put out the purifying flames. Harper’s struggles slowed and then his voice emerged from the roaring flames, distorted by pain and the sound of the holy fire, “Enjoy your little victory, deserter. I called; more spawn are coming. If you survive these, Suarez will just send more—they breed quickly and the mountains are full of them. And he has plenty more combat teams to send. You two—and this place—are goin’ down.” He grunted and stopped moving, laying face-first on the watery earth, his body still burning.

  Brother Hope heard a noise and scrambled to a new position to look. Colin was battling two more fast-moving opponents, and looked to be suffering from a number of minor wounds. One of the attackers was staring at Harper’s immolation, so Colin launched into a series of unorthodox moves that left his own body momentarily vulnerable but took down the distracted one. The other attacker rushed at Colin’s exposed back, sword high.

  Two rifle shots cracked the air: one from Hope and the other from Lizbeth’s direction. The enemy mule dodged one bullet, but his momentum threw him into the path of the other. The sword-fight continued, with no opportunity for Hope to safely fire into the fray, but with a few more dance-like parries and thrusts that the enemy mule had trouble following, Colin’s opponent fell dead.

  There was silence except for the breathing of the twins, the crackle of the dying flames consuming Harper, and the staccato thumbing of Hope’s heart.

  Brother Hope rose from his position and walked toward Colin. He began to sing his favorite passage loudly into the silence, “I will praise Thee, O Lord, among the people. I will sing—”

  “Incoming,” Colin interrupted. Brother Hope didn’t hear or see anything.

  Lizbeth crawled out from under the truck. “They’re here!” she shouted. “Lots of them. Over that way,” she shouted, pointing her rifle into the darkness.

  “They’re everywhere, actually,” Colin said.

  Then Hope heard it: growling around him, the pattering of feet from every direction. “Get your back to the truck! Don’t let them surround you!” he yelled at her, racing for the safety of the trucks.

  The mules reached Lizbeth and the trucks in seconds, but three devil-spawn rushed out of the night, grabbing at him, before Brother Hope could get there. Lizbeth reacted with a quick shot that dropped one of the spawn. The twins darted forward. With a swing each, they lopped off the heads of the two spawn, spraying blood sizzling onto both mules and the kirkman.

  Freed, Brother Hope resumed his rush to safety—and saw devil-spawn swarming toward the truck. Spawn were also crawling under the truck. In an instant, the creatures were all around Lizbeth. Before Hope could react, Lizbeth dropped her rifle, yanking out the hatchet that hung from a loop on her leg. The creatures rushed her, claws slashing, cutting through her clothing to her flesh. She hacked at them, but they crushed her beneath them, pushing her to the ground. The axe fell from her hand.

  Brother Hope fired, killed one, but there were too many, too close to Lizbeth.

  Davey was on Lizbeth’s attackers in a flash, cutting through them in a near-frenzy.

  Colin joined Brother Hope. “Put your back to mine, master, and follow me toward them,” he said, gesturing towards Davey and Lizbeth with his sword. “I’ll take their attacks and protect you. If you have a handgun, use it.”

  “Yes . . . yes.” Brother Hope gulped, looking at the growing numbers of spawn on all sides. “Thy mercy is great unto the heavens,” he began praying.

  Colin started forward with his sword swinging. Brother Hope could hear the creatures clawing at the mule’s bare torso, but it didn’t seem to slow the big man. Keeping up with the mule while facing backward wasn’t easy. Hope held onto Colin’s belt with a hand behind him, and the mule pulled him along. The jostling movement didn’t help Brother Hope’s aim, but when one spawn got past Colin, Hope fired three shots and it dropped. One of how many? Were there more than fifty? And had the things surrounded the town hall, too? What was happening to his flock?

  Two spawn grabbed Brother Hope by his clothing, and started pulling him away from Colin. He tried to hold onto the mule’s belt, but his grasp slipped, and then he was down, beneath the slobbering creatures. They were biting him. Clawing him. Blood flowed from numerous cuts.

  Colin twisted around, and with a growl, he jumped to defend Brother Hope, his blade flashing through the creatures. Behind him, several others leapt onto the mule’s back. Their weight didn’t knock Colin down, but they dug their claws deep into his flesh and their serrated teeth into his neck. He grabbed one from over his shoulder and flung it away like a rag doll, but the others were inaccessible.

  “Hold still,” Brother Hope yelled over the din of battle. Hope staggered up and shot the spawn, one after the other, at close range, careful to angle the shots away from the mule.

  More rushed in. A quick glance showed a blood-covered Davey fighting above Lizbeth’s unmoving body. His blade was flying furiously, but it was slowing and he was about to be swarmed.

  A grenade exploded behind the swarm. Then another. Fire erupted from the explosion sites. The high-pitched squeals of burning devil-spawn filled the air.

  Who had come to their aid, Brother Hope wondered. “God bless you, whoever you are!” he exclaimed. Though wounded and tired, he found new reserves of energy to keep up the fight, firing round after round from behind the protection of the twin mules.

  Trapped between two sets of attackers, some of the leaderless spawn continued to fight Davey, Colin, and Brother Hope. Others rushed toward the newcomers, only to be mown down by concentrated firepower. Some dragged away the bodies of the dead Harper and his men and retreated into the night.

  Slowly the two forces worked their way toward each other. Eventually Brother Hope could make out the new fighters in the moonlight: half of the armed defenders of Trinity, led by Grady standing tall above the swarm, swinging his axe with great strength and even greater courage. The sight bolstered the kirkman, and he sang out praise to the Most High with verve. By the grace of God, they would survive this day.

  It was hours before the last of the devil-spawn was killed or chased away, the last of the dead creatures burned in a pyre at the far end of town.

  The remainder of the night was spent healing wounds and sending up prayers to the Lord. Miraculously, not a single Trinity citizen had died in that night’s assaults, but many were wounded and Lizbeth was barely alive. She’d lost a lot of blood, her pulse was thready, and she was showing the sig
ns of spawn virus infection.

  Brother Hope wished he could help with her care, but he was trying to sit still while his own wounds were treated. Sitting next to him in the town hall was Grady, still looking heroic despite—or maybe because of—the bandages covering easily a quarter of his body.

  “What made you come out?” Hope asked him. “You were supposed to stay in the hall and look after everyone.”

  “‘Everyone’ includes you too, you know,” Grady replied.

  At dawn, Brother Hope sought out the twin mules. “I prayed on it,” he said, clapping Davey on the shoulder, “and I think you’re right about seeking out the help of those who sent you. Although you say your people don’t serve the Light, you are fighting the Darkness. My people should be safe with yours, and they have skills that can probably help your community. Let’s get everyone to safety, and then we’ll see about coming back to take care of the hellhole and the unleashed Power.” He paused, dropped his voice. “My friends and I failed to prevent the Darkness being released. With your help, and the help of others, perhaps we can do something to defeat the blight there.”

  “Fighting is absolutely what we do best, ma . . . Brother Hope.” Davey said, smiling.

  “Yeah,” Colin agreed.

  It took only a few hours of preparation before the group loaded themselves onto the trucks: Harper’s and the one the twins had arrived in. With Davey and Colin, Grady, Kol, and Brother Hope standing on the running boards to free up space inside, they managed to get all of the townsfolk wedged into the trucks. Hope positioned himself so he could see into the back of the truck, keeping an eye on the bandage-wrapped Lizbeth James.

  “Be merciful unto me, O God, be merciful unto me…” Brother Hope prayed as the lead truck out from the fallen town, carrying the heart of Trinity—its people—down the road that would lead them to Jeep . . . to Alaska . . . and to whatever destiny awaited.

  Note to the Reader: “Two Mules for Brother Hope” features characters and locations from the Rogue Mage RPG Game Master’s Guide and free adventure downloads “Supply Run” and “Trying Times in Trinity” (available in print from Bella Rosa Books and downloadable from Misfit Studios or rpgnow.com).