Destiny: Book of Light (7 page)

Sean found a rest for his rifle on the Port side and returned to scanning the Jungle. Another few bullets whizzed past overhead but all heads were kept low now. Sean became alarmed by the speed of the boat. It was tearing down an unknown channel at much too quick a speed. He looked up at the captain in the bridge and could see the strain and sweat on his face as he wrestled the ships wheel. Keeping low he climbed up to the bridge.

"What the fuck is goin on captain?"
"There's nothing I can do, the ships in full reverse, the channel is just too quick, but don't worry it's deep the whole way through, we should be fine."
"So have you been down here before?"
"No, and I have never heard of anyone passing here and coming out the otherside."
From the height of the bridge Sean could just about see over the canopy of the trees. Out over the sprawling jungle, the rising mountains in the distance, and further down the river.
"What is that?" asked Sean, indicating to a plume of smoke on the horizon.

"I know, I have been watching it. I have no idea what it is. I thought it might be a village on fire, but it appears to be in the middle of the pass and at this speed we'll be there within the hour. I'd say it's probably some form of defence for stopping ships coming down this way."

Picking up the binoculars Sean frowned as he saw what the captain had been talking about. As they got closer it became even clearer. It looked like a massive gate had been erected about four feet above the height of the river, spread across the width and then lit it on fire. It was unlikely however that this gate would ever open, this was a blockade with one purpose. It was mainly made from wood, but what was disturbing was he could see that it was reinforced with ship parts.

"Jesus at this speed the only choice we have is to plough straight into that fucking thing. Will we break through it captain?"
"To be honest I don't really want to find out, but I guess we have no choice."

Sean left the bridge and returned to the crew below. Bullets were still whizzing overhead as he returned to his position. Thoughts raced through his mind at the upcoming onslaught. There was a built in reinforced ram at the bow of the ship but the thoughts of having to crash through the blockade were not reassuring.

"Hey Jimmy, do we have any dynamite on board?"
"Ya we have a bit in storage alright, why what you thinking boss?"
"That blockade coming up, I was thinking we're goin to need every chance we can get. If we filled one of the lifeboats with dynamite and tied it to a rope, the current would take it ahead of the ship wouldn't it?"
"Ya I suppose it would, good thinking boss. I'll say it to the captain."

With the engines of the ship in reverse, the dynamite placed in the lifeboat and attached to 3 ropes tied together, and the power of the current, the lifeboat was taken to about 30 feet in front of the ship.
Sean returned to the bridge.
"Do you think it will be enough captain?"
"I dunno, but after the lifeboat goes up, if I switch the engines from full reverse to full ahead, it will give us the best chance. That gate thing looks thick though. Hopefully it won't be more than a couple of feet thick otherwise it might be an early end to your plans. Make an announcement to the crew and those in the cargo hold for me will you, if it comes down to it, it's better to take your own life than to get captured by these tribes. I have heard many stories about them and unfortunately they weren't exaggerated. Stories that would make the dark days look like a childrens pop up book. Do not get captured!"

The seriousness in his eyes said it all. The Jungles had begun to darken as the sun began to set. This was far from paradise now. They were closing in fast on the blockade. All along the river banks signs of death were abundant. It was like being back in Riona, yet somehow seeming more sinister. The atmosphere that horror is derived from. Cages hung from the trees with decomposing bodies still being picked at, by hordes of scavenging crows. Skulls and bones lined the bank. The smell was overpowering and a constant reminder of the death about to hit. It was obvious that many ships had been lost down this channel at this point, with wreckages lining the banks and even peering out from the Jungle. It was like a ship graveyard. The bullets continued overhead as the crew began to say goodbye to the world in whatever way they saw fit. Most stared at pictures of loved ones and family members, worrying about their future and remembering the great times of the past as eyes welled up in loss. Some prayed.

"You see that boss?" Jimmy spoke softly.
"What's that Jimmy?"
"See that dead horse there on the little beach."
"What about it?"
"It's moving."
"Well maybe it's not dead Jimmy? replied Sean with a hint of a patronising tone.
Jimmy glared at him.
"It is boss, look at his neck."
Sure enough as Sean looked he noticed a massive gash on the horses neck that would have been impossible to survive.
"Jesus Jimmy?"
"I know boss."
Sean aimed at the horse with the rifle and squeezed the trigger sending a bullet into the horses back. It stopped moving and a small dreadlocked head appeared from the other side of the horse, covered in blood. A smile spread across his face as he looked over at the tanker. Sean pulled the trigger again and hit the little man right between the eyes.

"Don't tell the others Jimmy."
The captain roared down to Sean.
"Think its time we brought as many of them as we can up from below."

Fifteen of the creatures were brought on deck. This nearly made the crew more nervous than what they were facing. Stories preceded these creatures in whispers throughout the world. Each one was as different from the next as they were from human. It was also rumoured that they had some sort of magical power brought on by the mutations, but no evidence had ever been produced either for or against this theory. Many thought it to be myth as those that did try to integrate into human society did not use any so called magical powers to defend themselves against the constant ridiculing. And generally those that spoke of it were old and borderline senile. And besides who in there right, adult mind, actually believed in magic. All the creatures wore overhanging hoods shadowing their faces. Only the reflection of eyes could be seen every so often peering out from the hoods, yet for some reason the crew seemed to feel that all of them were smiling. This unnerved them more. What did they have to smile about?

They began browsing the weapons in the storage boxes on deck, pulling out shotguns, rifles and all other forms of weapons. Swords were a favourite in this age because guns were hard to come by, but in certain situations they were a necessity. Sean and the captain watched on from the bridge as the gate began to tower over the horizon. The two youngest crew members, Brendan and Joe, uncomfortable with the Rionions, decided to move from the starboard side to port. As they did, an arrow was shot from somewhere unseen in the jungle. It burst through Joes chest as his friend watched the pleading glare in his eyes. From the bridge Sean noticed that in the brief moment Brendan held his friend, he had pissed in his pants. What nobody had noticed was that the arrow was attached to a line. Joe changed his look from his friend down to the arrow protruding from his chest and he held the wound as blood spilled over his hands. He looked to his friend again as four points on the arrow sprung open creating a form of grappling hook. The line recoiled with amazing speed and power, ripping Joe from his friends arms, the ship, across the water, and into the deep, dark, jungle.

Brendans screams echoed back up the pass, but nobody had the time to console him. The gate was too near. Anticipation was too high. It was seconds from the lifeboat going under the gate. Bill the ships best shot, lay flat on the ships bow, rifle targeting the lifeboat. His hands shook with both fear and the pressure of the task before him, but he did his best to steady the aim. It was time, and just before he was going to pull the trigger the captain roared at him.

"Leave it go under!"

Instantly Bill knew what he meant. The gate with its array of wooden gargoyle, random ship parts and decorations of skulls and bones, was high enough from the height of the river for the life boat to go under. If it went under and then they set it off, it would do much more damage. But as the boat started under the wooden mass of death, Bill began to lose sight. Thinking quickly he attached himself to a line and then scaled the bow of the ship. The lifeboat was about 10 feet under when he began to fire, but because of the angle, the shot was near impossible. He missed, and missed, and missed again. The boat was going further and further under, 15ft, 20ft.

"Shoot it, shoot it!" Roared the captain as he stood ready to switch the boat to full ahead.
"Sorry Bill." He whispered to himself.

Too much time had gone by and he had no choice, he switched the ship from full reverse to full ahead and the ship nearly instantly rammed the blockade. The cracking of wood smothered the sound of roaring, as the ship imbedded itself in the blockade and hundreds of Tribal warriors suddenly appeared all around. The firing begun. Completely outnumbered the crew scrambled to take cover in what ever way possible on the ship. With warriors lining the top of the blockade now as well, this meant any attempts were in vain. The Rionions on the other hand, although they kept firing and were being shot, they did not try to find cover. None fell.
The shooting increased from the warriors. Sean and the captain had a bit of a vantage point from the bridge and both were taking down many warriors, but things were looking bad for the crew. Most were shot at least once and many were killed or completely out of action with the severity of their wounds. The first creature fell. The warriors began to scale down the blockade and jump onto the ship. Seeing this and the death occurring below, Sean lost it. He threw aside the rifle, pulled out both handguns, and jumped the 20ft drop from the bridge, firing with precision accuracy on the way down. Bodies filled the ground where he landed and indeed most of the deck of the ship. Both crew and warriors, some still moving under footsteps.
The second creature fell, and as it did another screamed a scream that echoed back and forth through the valley. All shooting stopped as even the warriors watched this one creature, seemingly increase in size and glow a burning red. The scream increased in pitch and as it did the dynamite under the blockade blew. Wooden splinters and shrapnel exploded through the air as the ship broke free of the blockade. The engines automatically pushed it through any remaining obstacles. The Rionions silently returned below, carrying their dead with them, and after they did there was no movement onboard. The night was still, as was the river, as was the crew.

It wasn't until the next morning that the heat from the sun woke Sean. He found himself buried under the bodies of two of the tribal warriors. He pushed them off to take in the mass grave he was a part of. Movement was rare but he began to dig around. Four of the 39 crew survived along with the captain and Sean himself. The captain ordered Tim, one of the crew to stop the ships engines and take the wheel. Everyone had some injury. One of the crew was in a critical condition with three gun shot wounds, two in the left leg and one in the stomach. With the ship's medic dead he wasn't going to make it. Sean and the captain both agreed and Sean shot him in the head, releasing him of his pain. This left five living. Only four of the Rionions had died.

"Suppose somebody should say something?" asked the captain as they got ready to start dumping the bodies overboard.

James, the engineer began to sing. A ballad written about the death of the sun created the required, respectful atmosphere. Everyone else remained silent as they went about what had to be done. The bodies splashed overboard one by one. Tribal warriors, and crew. It would have been a difficult job either way but with injuries it took some time. The captain had a wooden splinter through his right leg, and although it wasn't too thick, he could not remove it and so he could not walk. Sean was the least injured with only a couple of scrapes, bruises, and a gunshot flesh wound to his left arm. After all the bodies had been dumped overboard James stopped singing and spoke.

"Sir, you gotta take a look at this."

Sean peered over the edge. The bodies and body parts had floated to the surface as soon as they went over, and with the ship now drifting down the river they travelled alongside at the same speed. It was a disturbing sight to anyone, no matter how tough they might be, or think they are.

"What do we do now Sir?"

"I don't know James, I don't know. We can't turn on the engines now anyway, they'd get grinded up, so I guess we'll have to continue on drifting with them. They'll disperse when we hit the sea. In the meantime we must get scrubbing these decks, and ourselves and tend to our wounds. We can't risk infection, and captain, we're going to have to pull that out."

"I know Sean, James will you get the whiskey from the store, I can't do it sober."

A wave of pain, passed through all of them with the sound of the stick ripped from his leg. The captains scream faded and he passed out. The deck was clean, the stick was out and wounds were tended to. They left the captain in his bunk to sleep it off and they retreated to the lounge in the next room to relax with the bottle of whiskey, all except Tim who cursed under his breath in the bridge as he navigated the pass. The blood seemed to wash away from memory as the whiskey flowed.
Another bottle was brought up as a game of poker ensued. Soon the wounds seemed to be relieved. Another bottle. The captain woke, and already drunk, joined the social gathering. Stakes were high as Sean thought about how the type of card player reflected the personality of a person. He was great at reading people, very tactical and new when to pick his battles. The captain was a muscle player, trying to be aggressive and intimidate people. It worked on all except Sean. The stakes were high, tensions were high and the room dense with smoke as James, the last of the crew, went all in against the captain. With the flop turned, he was out with a pair of eights facing a pair of queens. The game had more or less gone as if it was everyones last day to live, mainly because of recent events thought Sean. He was now head to head with the captain. Tension was high and both had about the same amount of chips. It moved on the way it had begun, the captain trying to intimidate with big bets and Sean picking his battles and sneaking the smaller hands. For four hours they played and at that point they still had about the same amount of chips. The crew were asleep, when they both decided to go all in and winner takes all on the last hand. It was close.