Ashlyn Chronicles 2: 2288 A.D.: A Time Travel Sci-Fi Fantasy (16 page)

***

The nighttime world, into which the time wave had placed her, was one of thick, jungle foliage. The ambient noises within the jungle went quiet as a large jungle cat growled in the darkness. Instantly it was stilled into silence as it was struck down, killed by something even more dangerous.

Ash knelt, trying to keep her presence hidden. The darkness was intense. Ash looked up, into the heavy canopy of trees and vines that were blocking the light of the moon and stars beyond. Moving shadows seemed to be everywhere. Trees were shaking, bushes rustling. The pitter-patter of soft footsteps seemed to be all around her. In the trees above, she saw a dark shadowy figure moving silently through the branches, from tree to tree.

Looking around her for a place to hide, she spotted a large tree with a heavy root system, twenty yards away. Crouching, she stealthily ran to its base and crawled into a small hole that had been formed by its overlapping roots. She’d now wait until morning, before daring to venture out.

Not wanting to sleep, but knowing she needed to—Ash leaned her head against the tree and closed her eyes. Her thoughts drifted back to Orion-1693. She hoped she’d given him enough courage to change the future, enough inspiration to make a better world for his people.

She also thought of Anu. He had saved her, his words of strength pulling her back from the darkness that had overtaken her.
I didn’t even thank him.

The night passed slowly as the constant stirrings within the jungle made sleep near impossible. She could hear creatures running, seeking escape from the predators stalking them. Each time she heard the cries of an animal dying, her heart raced. It was hard to remain still and quiet as the surges of adrenaline begged her to flee.

Worst of all, were the moments of stark silence that alluded to nearby predators. At those moments, even her own breath felt like it was betraying her location. It became a fight to stifle each exhale, as she heard the nearby sounds of rustling bushes and the soft noise of shifting gravel and breaking twigs, underfoot. Some of the animals seemed to be communicating, sending patterned clicking sounds that others returned and responded to. The hunters were prowling.

Ash quickly learned that a loud growl or roar meant that a battle was about happen or that a victory was being claimed. It was not always easy to tell the difference.

It was only when she awakened to the sun’s rising and the chirping song of birds, that she realized she’d fallen asleep. Ash froze as she saw that a small yellow snake had curled up beside her feet. Moving slowly, she slid away. The snake barely seemed to notice.

Unsure of what dangers surrounded her, Ash took a few cautious steps away from the tree and slowly pulled the sword. Unable to see the mountains, she headed east, in the direction of the rising sun. It was all she had by which to set her course.

Using the sword to sweep branches and vines aside, Ash slowly made her way through the dense jungle brush. It was much quieter than it had been during the night. The small birds she’d awakened to were similar to a traditional bird, but were actually more like a beaked, winged squirrel. They were as good at jumping as they were at flying. Seeing them now, jumping from branch to branch in the trees, it was like they didn’t have a care in the world.

Sitting high above in the treetops, Ash occasionally caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a much larger winged creature. She wouldn’t have even known they were there, if not for the occasional loud flapping of their wings that rustled the branches and sent a sprinkling of leaves fluttering to the ground.

Startled by Ashlyn’s appearance as she broke from the brush into a clearing, a small flock of the bird-like squirrels took flight. When she saw the blackberry bush they’d been feasting upon, a wide grin crossed her face. She’d found food. On both knees beside the bush, she ate until she was full. Never had a meal tasted so good. When she rose, seeing her hands stained in berry juice, she couldn’t help but give a small laugh.

The noise of a rustling bush caught her attention. Ashlyn’s senses went on full alert, releasing a surge of adrenaline that sped and intensified her perceptions. She spun around to see one of the mutated humans leaping at her. Its claws were extended, its fangs bared. Even with her heightened reflexes, the creature was extraordinarily fast. Diving to the side, Ash rolled out of its way. In doing so, she had been forced to leave the sword behind. It now lay in the grass near the creature’s feet, unnoticed by him.

Moving slowly, the mutant clearly conveyed that it felt no threat from her as it displayed its razor sharp teeth in a wide grin. The creature assumed a crouched stance and cocked its head back and forth, summing her up. Like a cornered gazelle that the hunter knew was trapped, he was taking his time, savoring the moment.

When Ash took a step back to put distance between them, she saw his thigh muscles tighten in preparation to charge. With the next twitch, Ash took a step toward him and did a spinning jump that sent her hurdling over the top of him. She landed on the ground, the sword lying between her feet. By the time she bent to pick it up, the mutant had already turned and started to charge again. Ash answered the charge by summersaulting to the side. The roll brought her up onto her feet. Spinning, she swung the sword around, slashing the creature across the left side of its abdomen. The cut was deep and its entrails spilled out.

The mutated human gave an ear-piercing squeal, staggered, then dropped to its knees. Turning its head, it looked at her, astonished.

Staring down at him, Ash realized just how vile the mutated humans had become. The creature’s fangs were dripping blood from swollen gums. The whites of its once human eyes were black, except for the iris which was deep red. Its veins were raised and pulsing. Something beneath the grey skin on the creature’s arm was moving, wiggling its way up towards the shoulder. Ashlyn’s stomach churned as a worm dug its way out near the collarbone. The mutants were diseased, rotted. Nothing in the holo that Siri had shown her, had prepared her for the horror of the reality.

With a quick swing of the sword, she removed his head, putting him out of his misery.

From deep in the jungle, Ashlyn heard a howl. It was one of its own kind, responding to the high-pitched squeal for help. Ash sheathed the sword and turned, running away from the direction the sound had come. She heard another howl from off to her left. Three more howls came from behind. Then another from her right. They were hunting her, tightening the noose—funneling her into a trap.

Running hard, Ash wove her way through the trees and foliage. Thistles and branches of small shrubs were lashing her at every turn. Each step seemed to find a sharp edged rock beneath her feet. She would have given anything for a pair of Nikes. Jumping over a fallen tree, she slid down an embankment of sand that edged a small river and ran into the water.

Swimming to the other side, she splashed some water on the opposite bank to lead them astray, then quickly dove back in and swam with the current downstream. The coolness of the water helped numb the pain of the healing cuts and bruises on her feet.

The sound of surging water soon filled Ashlyn’s ears as the river led her to a narrow waterfall. Horrible memories of the friends she had lost when going over the waterfall on Hadaesia, filled her mind.
I’m starting to hate waterfalls.
From behind, above the drone of the fall, Ash heard distant howls along the shore. They were still tracking her.

Aligning herself to go feet first, Ash went over the waterfall, plunging into the water. Gently touching the silty bottom of the large pond with her toes—she took a moment to orient herself, studying the rising bubbles and the current of the fall behind her. Staying underneath the water, she swam, coming up on the backside of the waterfall. There was a narrow gap between stacked boulders, which was just wide enough to let her slip between them and into a small pocket beyond. It was tiny, but she was well protected from view. She couldn’t have hoped for more.

Above the noise of the fall, she soon heard the howls of the hunting party that had come to a stop on a ledge above her. They were calling the other groups to join them.

Through a small cleft in the falling water, she could see their grotesquely shaped shadows being cast on the pond as they strained to look over the edge. Ash saw one of the shadows raise its claw and strike one of its own, chastising it for having lost track of her. The disgraced creature, lowered its head in shame and backed away—a humble acknowledgement of his failure.

Ash watched as several of the creatures took long leaps over the narrow gap created by the fall, going to the shore on her left side—others staying on the right. The hunting party was separating, wanting to search both sides of the river. Though she was safe for the moment, she also sensed a trap. She could feel that they had left one behind, to watch and wait—likely the one who had been shamed.

It was a waiting game to see who blinked first.

By the time night fell, Ash was shivering from the long hours of being submerged up to her breasts in the icy water. She wouldn’t have thought the mutants capable of such patience, and yet, she felt sure there was still one above, waiting. The only positive was that the berry stains were now gone, and she’d managed to wash her hair, taking out the tangles and more than a few thistles.

Ashlyn’s perseverance was rewarded, as forty minutes later the hunting packs of mutants returned from down river. As they congregated atop the falls, she could hear a sort of dialog, an exchange of patterned growls and clicks. They were the same clicking sounds she’d heard on the night she first arrived. Little had she known then, that it had been the mutants in the jungle all around her.

She could sense their anger as they again chastised the disgraced one. A moment later, she heard the fading howls as the pack left.

Exercising caution, she waited another twenty minutes before quietly coming out of hiding. Swimming downstream, she decided to put some distance between her and the mutants. Come daybreak, she’d then have to reset her course. Her fear was that from the shadows the creatures had cast upon the pond earlier, she needed to head back in their direction, back into the hornet’s nest to reach the mountains.

A mile downstream, Ash swam to shore, exiting behind a large boulder. The air was warm, for which she was deeply thankful. She was chilled to the bone.

Bathed in darkness, Ash could just make out the outline of a mountain against the night sky, two miles to the west. It towered above the surrounding territory and would be the perfect place to get a lay of the land around her.

After wringing the water from her hair, Ash laid down beneath the overhang of a moss covered rock nearby. Lying there, just minutes after she’d closed her eyes—she heard the gentle footsteps of an animal coming down to the river to get water. Not daring to move, she slowly opened her eyes. She could make out the silhouette of a large, lumbering animal standing a few feet away. The creature craned its thick neck and let out a soft whistle. From the brush, two baby calves came forward, joining their mother. The mother watched dutifully, protectively as her babies lapped at the water. Ash grinned, for even in the harshness of this nightmarish world, parental instincts had not changed. The mother took her turn last, after which, she turned and left.

One of the babies trailing behind sniffed the air. It turned toward Ashlyn and came to her. With a swipe of its slobbery tongue, it licked her face. The mother whistled again calling the lagging calf. The baby responded, running after her into the jungle. The creatures were the size of a hippo, but Ashlyn had gotten the distinct impression it was a dog when it licked her. Ash shook her head, and again closed her eyes. Starting to drift off, the lyrics of the song,
Mad World
, went through her mind. “All around me are familiar faces, worn out places.”

Waking with the sun, Ashlyn stretched her muscles. Rising onto her toes, she extended her arms high above her head and twisted her torso first to the right, then to the left. Beyond the trees, she saw that the mountain was further away than she’d first thought. In the darkness, its large size had made it appear closer than it actually was. There was something unique and unexplainable about the mountain, it felt familiar.

Before heading out, Ashlyn drank her fill of water from the river. Much like the day before, the sky was bright, the air crisp and fresh.

The most valuable lesson came from the birds in the trees. Ash had quickly learned to pay attention to them, taking cover in the brush when they went silent. Each time she did, she was rewarded for her effort as a predator chased down its quarry. Much like the humans, most of the animals had mutated almost beyond recognition, evolving into creatures capable of surviving in the violent new world.

The difficulties of moving through the thick foliage and the frequent cautionary stops made for slow going. At one point, Ashlyn took a wide berth around a grove of tall trees that was home to something akin to a monkey. Ashlyn took the silence in the jungle surrounding the grove as a warning. The birds weren’t just quiet, they were absent.

The detour led Ashlyn to a small brook, where she decided to follow it upstream to its source. It was the closest thing she’d seen to a trail, and she felt sure it would lead her directly to the mountain.

It proved to be a good decision. Two hours later she found the source of the brook. It was bubbling out from beneath the fallen boulders of a large landslide at the mountain’s base. Working her way around the slide, she came to a small grass covered glade. The mountain before her was one of steep, near unclimbable cliffs. As she was questioning her decision to have come to the mountain—a large shadow came over the top of her.

Looking up, the late afternoon sun nearly blinding her, she glimpsed the spread wings and talons of a large flying creature coming at her. Hefting the sword, Ash swung in a blind arc. The creature slammed into her, propelling her backwards onto her back—the impact knocking the wind out of her. As Ashlyn rolled over and came to her feet, she saw that she had wounded the creature. Half of its left wing lay on the ground. The creature was shrieking in pain.

Visually, the large flying animal was similar in many ways to a pterodactyl. It was skeletal, boney, featherless. It had a long mouth lined with jagged, razor sharp teeth and taloned feet. Surprisingly, it had a collar around its neck. It was a pet, trained to track. The mutants had been using it to look for her. It also meant the mutants were nearby.

The creature’s jaw snapped, its teeth clacking. Spreading its wings best it could, it jumped at her, talons bared. Ashlyn swung the sword, deftly cutting off its head.

Sure that the pack must be nearby, Ash spun, making sure that she was alone. She’d made a mistake, thinking it safe to cross through the clearing. It had left her vulnerable, exposed. She’d not make the mistake again. Seeking the security of the dense jungle brush, Ash darted for cover.

She’d taken only a few steps when the large hunting party of pointy-eared mutants stepped out from the brush and into the clearing. While she had been fighting, the pack had encircled her. Together, they moved forward, tightening the circle. Ash backed up, until she was again standing beside the creature she’d slain.

One of the mutants suddenly released a loud, mournful screech. He was holding a leash. The expression on his face was one of sadness as he saw his dead pet lying on the ground.

Ash was slowly spinning, warily watching all the men in turn. She came to a stop, her attention falling upon the alpha male of the pack as he began shouting at her. His words were nothing more than repeating clicks interspersed between short, patterned growls. Seeing his eyes focused upon her weapon, Ash felt sure that he was telling her to put the sword down. When she lifted it higher in warning, the pack leader thrust out his spear, pointing it at her. It was the signal for the mutants to attack.

Ashlyn’s already heightened perceptions, exploded—bringing a new depth of clarity that she had never experienced before. Without needing to look, she could hear, see, sense, and smell the attackers around her.

The sound of grass bending underfoot, told her that one was coming up from behind her. In a single motion, Ash whirled and dropped to one knee. The sword in her hand sliced through the air, disemboweling her attacker. The tip of the spear he had carried, hung in the air just inches from her face.

The attacker fell to his knees. He tipped his head to the side, curiosity making him watch his lunch of undigested squirrel spilling out onto the ground.

Angered, another attacker came at her. Ash spun. The aim of the sword was true. His head fell from him and rolled between Ashlyn’s feet.

Looking to her left, then to her right—Ash spun in a slow circle, challenging the next attacker.

The mutant men were all making the familiar clicking noises and growling. They were posturing for who would go next. Ashlyn was beginning to understand that each of them saw her as a prize, and that she would belong to the victor. She could see the desire in their roving eyes, their wagging tongues hungrily declaring that they wanted to be the one to claim her.

Ash was turning, moving quickly—not wanting to give them the advantage of surprise. The men feinted an attack, jumping forward, then retreating. It was meant to be a distraction to conceal the real point of attack.

Ashlyn could hear their hearts beating, their adrenaline surging. She was acutely aware of every nuanced sound. The near silent release of held breaths told Ashlyn that two more attackers were coming at her. Swinging the sword to her left, she felled one and severed the arm of another. Moaning in pain, the injured mutant retreated, rejoining the others.

The leader’s face twisted into an angry snarl, screeching for his men to attack. He was not accustomed to such losses.

Without looking, Ashlyn dropped to one knee and thrust the sword backwards, over her right shoulder. The sword went through the attacker’s throat and upwards, exiting out the back of his skull.

Ash rose slowly with confidence. Her stern gaze was locked upon the leader as she extricated the sword from the fallen attacker behind her.

The mutants had never seen such a thing before. She had proven herself an adversary to be feared. The circle tightened as they prepared to rush her all at once.

Facing the alpha male, Ashlyn gave a slight bow and extended her unclenched hands to him. The sword lay atop her open palms. Thinking that she was surrendering to him, with a few clicks, the leader told the others to hold their position.

Ash knelt and set the sword on the ground. Rising, she looked at him in submission. He started forwards wanting to claim her. It was his right as pack leader. His arousal came quickly as he took in her femininity.

The other mutant humans were jumping, hollering—excited that she was going to be captured undamaged, and that she would be theirs when he was finished with her.

Staring at the leader, Ashlyn called upon the powers within. The darkness, for all the evil it represented—had given her a gift. The great anger the voices had dredged up within her had deepened the well from which Ashlyn drew her power. It was near limitless.

Now, calling upon the element of fire, Ashlyn’s body instantly erupted with intensely hot, blue-white flames. The tendrils lashed out, growing larger, hotter.

Terrified, the mutants held their hands up, shielding their faces from the intense heat and brightness. Even as they backed away, their skin was blistering and flaking—the pain so intense it masked the heat emanating from the ground that was burning their feet. Little wisps of steam rose from the soil. The grass in the clearing withered and caught fire.

The mutants scattered—running from the inferno engulfing everything. All around them—trees, vines, and jungle brush were bursting into flames.

The mutants shrieked each time their feet touched the ground. Though they were fast and knew their jungle home well, they could not outrun the ever-widening circle of flames chasing them. The superheated air was burning them alive while they ran, leaving a trail of splattered blood across the blistering forest floor.

The energy driving the flames within Ashlyn continued to grow as she explored the depth of her untapped reservoirs of power. The circle of fire widened, moving away from her at an ever-quickening pace.

Boulders shattered as trapped pockets of air expanded. Above the crackle of burning wood, the cries of fleeing animals filled the air.

Suddenly, like she were looking through a portal, Ashlyn’s consciousness expanded, allowing her to see each of her still living, fleeing attackers. One by one, she watched as the flames overtook them.

Ash grimaced as one of the mutants made it to the grove of monkey like creatures that she’d detoured around earlier. Seeing the mutant intruder in their midst, they jumped from the trees, surrounding and attacking him. They were large, strong, and operating on a base primal instinct. Their viciousness as they ripped his organs out and devoured them, was shocking. One of the monkeys ripped the mutant’s head off, carrying it away like it were a prize. Had the monkeys existed in larger numbers, Ash believed they would have been the ones to inherit the Earth.

The portal within Ashlyn’s mind watched until the flames engulfed the grove and the violent creatures within.

The portal then shifted to the leader of the mutant pack, who had managed to make it to a small pond of collected tributary water. When he jumped in, he mistakenly thought he had escaped—the cold water relieving the pain of his burns.

Instantly, the power Ashlyn had unleashed boiled the water. The mutant screamed, his face twisting hideously as his skin cracked open revealing ever-deepening layers of red, raw, cooking flesh and muscle tissue. As he sank below the surface, his blood turned the bubbles of boiling water around him red.

With the death of her last attacker, the portal within her mind, closed. The images she had seen, would never be forgotten.

Ash reined in the energy that fueled the flames. Each time she used her powers, it became easier to control.

Wanting to douse the flames, that were ravaging the jungle, Ash called upon a heavy rain to put them out.
It’s like Eridu all over again.

A soft breeze swept by her. The darkness had returned. “Where the destroyer goes, death follows. Ashlyn will die. The destroyer will claim her. The darkness will take her.” The ethereal echoes faded.

With a huff, Ashlyn retrieved the sword that lay near her feet. Wiping the dirt and ashes from it, she slid it back into the sheath. She lifted her face to the sky, thankful for the rain as it washed the dirt and grime away from her skin—purifying the air.

Looking at the desolation around her, Ash saw that hidden beneath the burned brush, there had been a large, stone wall. It was crumbling and broken. Behind the wall, Ash saw a small trail ascending up the face of the cliff.
Two birds with one stone.

Squeezing through a break in the wall, Ash made her way around the charred brush and rubble to the trailhead. The ascending trail would give her the vantage point she had sought and satisfy her curiosity. Looking up at the trail, she could feel the nexus urging her to go.

Following the overgrown switchbacks, she found a narrow opening atop the mountain that led inside. Before she entered though, she called a stop to the rain and took a moment to look at the devastation below. It looked like a nuclear wasteland after an attack. It was grey, charred, the earth itself scorched. A few scattered pockets of ash smoldered, sending light trails of smoke filtering upwards. Within the ring of fire nothing had survived.

Turning away from the scene of death, Ash pushed her way past a flowered bush and stepped inside the mountain. Just beyond the entrance the path widened out into a small cave. Oddly, the smoke inside the cave was heavier than it was outside.

Lighting a flame in her hand for light, she began to explore. Though the cavern was relatively small, it was pockmarked with a number of fissures and pockets—any of which could conceal deeper chambers. Minutes later, disappointed that there was no discovery to be made, Ash headed for the exit. She was almost outside when she thought she heard a faint scream. Listening intently, hoping to hear it again, she waited. Though the sound didn’t repeat, the fire in her palm suddenly fluttered. She followed its wavering flicker to a narrow crevice. Pushing her way through, slashing at a tangle of roots—she found a small downward trail.

The warm, smoky breeze wafting through the winding tunnel created a small whistling sound. Hearing a second terrorized scream of pain, Ashlyn gripped the sword, bringing it to life. The scream had been louder this time—closer.

The smoky breeze now carried a nauseating, acrid odor that grew stronger with each step. It was the same smell that she and Steven had been forced to endure back on Hadaesia, at the lake of fire. She hoped she was wrong about what lay ahead.

Two turns later, Ash came to a small overlook inside a large cavern. A row of boulders, that lined the overlook, blocked her view of the cavern floor below. Climbing atop the lower boulders, she leaned out, looking over the edge.