Chapter 19: Crushing waves

Silent scream ripped through the wooden leg like a hot knife through butter. Sharpening it into a pike was simple work. Beside me, Yusuf’s forehead shined with the gloss of sweat. He panted like someone he just came back from a marathon. 

I threw my pike into the pile of sharpened sticks. “Need help?” 

“Yeah, thanks.”

He handed me the wooden leg with shaky hands. His knife had left uneven indents in it, like he’d gone at it with no purpose, no strength.

“You alright?”

He smiled, “Yeah, nah. Not really. But I will be.”  

“What’s up?” 

“Cancer.”

I flinched, and stopped sharpening his part of the workload; I didn’t know what to say.

When the silence finally became unbearable, I just muttered, “Damn.”  

He looked down at his feet and caught his breath. “It’s not all terrible. My family had practically given up on me. I had too, to be quite frank. Then I received a blessing. Hope.”

“Some hope…” 

He leaned back and laid down, hands tied under his head, “Yeah. Well, it’s better than nothing at all.” 

I couldn’t argue with that. Yusuf closed his eyes to rest. I kept sharpening the wooden legs. Even the noisy brutes around us quietened down. Some threw glances our way. Most just focused on the task at hand and kept doing what they needed to fortify the place. 

The approaching horde had grew loud enough to drown out most other sounds. They wouldn’t be long now. The narrow city streets echoed with the sound of their wet snarls. 

Yusuf sat back up with a jerk. He stretched his arms above his head with an exaggerated yawn. 

“Now that was refreshing,” he moaned. 

I chuckled. “I bet.” 

The surrounding fighters all took a collective breath of relief. Maybe seeing Yusuf act all aloof like this was what they needed to keep their mind off things. I hadn’t known him long, but I’d already grown quite fond of him. I would be surprised if I were the only one. 

Hurried footsteps clacked against the paved stone behind us. 

“Yusuf, Cal. It’s time,” Anna said. 

She donned a helmet now. Although it hid her face behind a curtain of steel, I could tell that she was nervous from her eyes. 

Yusuf got up and dusted off his robe. “Yup. I suppose it is. Cal, get inside. Grab a window with a good view of the street. Whenever things look like they’re getting tough, try to make them less tough by blowing the bastards up.” 

I nodded. “What about you?” 

“My place is here, with the fighters.” 

Come to think of it, I didn’t know what kind of blessing he had. His pipe created smoke, obviously, that was all I knew. 

I raised a fist in his direction. He bumped it and flashed his signature smile. A damn charming guy. 

I walked past Anna and gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Good luck.” 

She nodded, then turned to the spike clad barricade and drew her blade. The rest of the fighters followed suit and created small clusters of well-balanced teams. Every group had one fighter with a large shield. Most of them wielded real metal shields, but a couple had what looked to be ripped off doors. 

For their sake, those had better be accolades with some odd fucking past. If not, I would hate to be one of them. They would fall first. 

I hurried up the spiral staircase to the archers. As I was scurrying upstairs, I caught a glimpse of the officer’s room. Samara and the twins stood alone now. The twins engaged in a calm discussion while Samara's eyes were glazed over, staring into the distance. She caught sight of me, shook herself awake, and returned my look with a smile. 

Odd.

The atmosphere with the archers was much less tense. They joked and chuckled at the nervousness taking place below. When I walked past, they greeted me with fervour. Everyone seemed keen on tapping my shoulders and arms. 

“First time?” an older fellow asked. 

I nodded. 

He hurriedly bumped my shoulder with a fist and smiled wryly, “Newbies have good luck. This way, we all share it.” The middle aged man had a military buzz and a grey speckled beard. His arms were jagged with muscles and veins. “No need to be nervous,” he chuckled. And I wasn’t.

He spoke as if his word was absolute. “Make sure to always keep some energy in reserve should they get inside. We’re the last line of defence. If they get through us, the non-combatants are toast.” 

The other archers listened to the man religiously. 

He reached a hand toward me. “I’m Bill. A professional diver.” 

What the fuck did him being a diver have anything to do with this? 

He chuckled and made a salute, thumping his fist against his chest three times. “It’s slang for someone who’s fully committed to exploring the Forgotten Lands. This isn’t my first rodeo.” 

“Oh,” I exclaimed, “you do this for a living? Are you mad?” 

He burst out laughing. “Maybe! But it sure is exciting. Isn’t it?” 

I nodded excitedly. “It really is! Right?” I hadn’t stopped to think about it yet. But I was kind of enjoying myself after escaping the chambers. 

He nodded at a window. “Get your weapon ready and stand by. If you’re not sure of hitting something, don’t shoot. Aim for large clusters; that way you never miss.” 

All archers did as he ordered and spread out. They left one of the central windows empty for me to occupy. I glanced at the old man as he placed a quiver of arrows against the wall next to his window and pulled the string of his bow. Carefully, he inspected every minor part of the weapon.

I mirrored him and grabbed the wand from off of my shoulder. I had already loaded it earlier. Taking inspiration from the old man, I fished out a handful of both enhanced bullets, and mundane ones, and neatly stacked them on the windowsill. 

Then, struck by inspiration, I tied a magic thread to both sides of the window, made it corporeal and let the barrel of my wand lean on it. It was comfortable and made it easy to aim. I nodded in satisfaction.

Beside me, the old man pressed his arrows into the wall, then paused. I could swear I saw his ears twitch. 

“Get ready!” he yelled. The archers pointed their weapons to the street.

Downstairs, the fighters grew tense. Anna stood in one of the lead groups, supporting her teammates like a solid pillar of trust. They all kept close to her. 

“Wait! It’s me. Don’t shoot!” Elana shouted and rounded the corner. She ran with a limp and pressed her free hand against a profusely bleeding arm. 

“Stand down! Let her through,” Anna barked. 

Elana limped to the back of the formation and shared a few hushed words with Yusuf, then hurried inside. The ground quaked. They were close. 

The horde was coming. 

Below, I heard Samara ask Elana what the hell happened. Her answer drowned in the screams of soldiers. The first runners threw themselves around the corner. They just kept pouring out. The stady march from before completely forgotten and exchanged with a blind charge. Some fell, and the others mercilessly crushed them underfoot. 

“Shield wall!” Anna screamed. 

In the back, Yusuf pulled out his pipe and sucked on it like an addict. His cheeks ballooned until they looked fit to burst. He deflated and blew the smoke into two spiraling columns. It rushed to both sides of the funnel, embracing the barricades and seeping into them. A layer of smoke steeped the wooden structure. Yusuf breathed raggedly, but sucked on the pipe once more. 

I let my magic flow into the rifle and took aim, right in the middle of the frenzied horde. Humid air rushed into my lungs. My sight pulled close to the mass of bodies. 

“Fire!” Samara screamed from beside Yusuf.  

Discharged magic pressed the buttstock into my shoulder; I recoiled backward slightly, but remained standing. A thunderous roar washed over the defensive position. 

The bullet tore through the air like a missile and hit a runner square in its chest before it exploded and sent the poor bastard flying into its allies. A small hail of projectiles followed the bullet. Arrows, sharp stones, pebbles, even beams of some kind tore through them, dwindling their numbers by the second. Still, our rain of death did little to halt them. 

Quickly, I grabbed an enhanced bullet, pulled the bolt back, chambered it, and aimed down the sights. 

In the far back of the horde, near the corner, a large piece of the wall forcefully dislodged and crushed all runners in its path. It smashed against the barricade with an enormous crash. The smoke trembled, but the barricade held. 

One of the flesh golems barrelled toward the line of defence like a bullet train. The many limbs on its body clawed at the other runners to get through. It screamed with a high-pitched dissonance as it crushed both allies and buildings alike. 

Anna’s voice tore through the battlefield, “Brace!” 

The flesh golem slammed into the shield wall like a force of nature. Men twice my size were sent flying like toys with their strings cut. But the shield wall held out. Somehow. 

The squads pushed their shield bearers into the flood of runners and the terrifying flesh golem. The only thing keeping them safe were their gigantic tower shields they held onto for dear life. I swallowed dryly at the brutality of it. The shield bearers looked like nothing more than corks used to stop a leak.

Fighters with pierce weapons stabbed past the shields every time they spotted rotting flesh.

I shivered at the thought of being part of a formation below. 

“Shoot the fat one!” Samara screamed. 

Magic flowed into the wand. I took aim at the fat fucker and fired. 

The battlefield rumbled as my enhanced bullet burst into flames, covering the flesh golem in a sea of hurt. Just a moment later, its many mouths burst through the fiery cloud, screaming bloody murder. The sound was so high that it cut into my ears. 

I gnashed my teeth and loaded another enhanced bullet. “Yeah, I hope that hurt, fucker.”

To my left, an archer fell to the floor, clutching his ears. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he fell over the railing, slamming into the floor below. I glanced down, his neck bent at a ninety-degree angle.

The shield bearers barely held out. We couldn’t let this continue. With those screams there was no fucking way that they’d hold out. 

We needed more. 

I chambered another bullet and focused. The flow of magic inside me was barely noticeable. When I called forth Silent scream, or read runes, it came to me naturally. Like riding a bike with training wheels. The same went for injecting the rifle with magic. The weapon was made for someone like me. But not the bullets; something about them differed from armaments. They had no built-in mechanism. No easy way of injecting them with energy. 

However much I racked my brain, I couldn’t find the solution. I wish I had asked Sera when I had the chance. There was only one thing left to do. To keep firing. 

Another of my fiery clouds engulfed the golem below. It screamed inside the small inferno. But the pain I caused was of little consolation since it didn’t. Fucking. Die.

Anna’s face paled down below. I gritted my teeth. She couldn’t fall. Not Anna. She was the center of the defensive formation.

A resounding groan rolled across the battlefield. Smoke rolled over the horde.