The Vitalis Chronicles: Tomb of the Relequim (43 page)

“
Then?”

“
I want you back up here. Scope out any dense gatherings of the things and launch whatever you have at them.”

“
I like the sound of it, sir.”

“
They haven't taken an interest in us yet, but that'll change things. Get your mines set up fast. Take anyone you need to help get it done.”

“
Right sir.” Tallheart was off in an instant, calling for two men to join him as he ran down to set up his mines.

“
Sykes!”

“
Sir?” Sykes' voice came from somewhere behind him.

“
Your perimeter set?”

“
Well it was, sir, until that bastard Tallheart took two of my men!”

Keaton laughed at that. “They'll be back, then I want you facing the fight.”

“
That's where I'd be if I wasn't plugging holes over here, sir.”

“
You remember how these things come, don't you?”

“
Fast and ferocious.”

Keaton shuddered to remember it. “And they stink like hell.”

“
If hell has a smell, sir, I'd imagine they've matched it. But on the bright side, at least there's not much grass to speak of. No sneaking up on us.”

“
We don't have much in the way of ammo, let alone firepower. There are what, fifteen of us?”

“
Fourteen, begging your pardon sir. I put one down if you'll remember.”

“
Fourteen of us then. And not a chance in hell that anyone is coming to help us.” He was starting to wonder if they shouldn't have made a run for it. “So kill as many of the little bastards as you can
before you die. And if you do die, don't do anything stupid that kills anyone else when you go.”

The men shouted in unison around him. It was a strange one-word chant. He'd never heard it before.

“
All right then.” Keaton took up a position in the front towards the center of the line as Tallheart and his help came running back to them.

“
All set, Major. Furry little frogs won't know what hit 'em.”

“
You have anything that can reach them from here?”

“
Do I?” Tallheart said with a hidden grin. He returned with two of the snub-nosed launchers and a long one that looked more like a big black tube. “I think I'll start with the rocket. Always more fun
and I can get some ridiculous range.”

Tallheart dropped the gear on the ground save the tube. He pulled on the ends and it grew three times in length. He hoisted it on his shoulder. Caps on the ends flipped off automatically as he pulled a square box out in front of his eye.

“
This sucker's laser-guided through the sights and everything. Compact. Long range. I can guide it to wherever you want it to go, sir, so long as I can see it from here.”

“
Then guide it to those containers on the other side of the gun.” Keaton pointed to where an obscene number of the beasts were mangling the dead.

“
You mean the artillery cache, sir?”

Keaton nodded.

“
Good choice.” And with no further ado he flicked the cover off the trigger, lit the laser, and launched the rocket.

To Keaton's initial confusion, he launched it at an upward angle. There was a heavy boom as the rocket seemed to float off, then suddenly it came to life as its own propulsion system engaged. It aligned itself with the laser then as it shot off, and Tallheart swung his aim down towards the ammunition stores below. He did it with a graceful skill that betrayed his experience. The rocket followed a gentle arc before he brought it down, slamming it into the crates.

The resulting explosion was catastrophic to the surrounding area. Black bodies flew in every direction as a the explosions cascaded into a deafening cacophony. Keaton smiled as hundreds of the monsters died.

But then something strange happened. The fight stopped. The beasts seemed to freeze for a moment, many of them staring at the smoking wreckage. And then Anders Keaton's worst nightmare began to unfold, they all looked straight at his hill. Every single one of them.

As with a singular purpose of mind, the monsters turned and rushed in his direction. There were hundreds. Possibly a couple thousand. His gut dropped to his boots. This was bad. Really, really bad.

“
Sykes!” He yelled. “Tighten up!”

Tallheart picked up one of the snub-nosed launchers. Its circular magazine held seven rounds that would rotate into place after their predecessor had been fired. Keaton picked up the other one.

“
You said the range on these things was about two hundred yards?”

“
Yes sir.” All the joy of a moment before had left the young man's voice.

“
Which means they'll be in range...”

“
Just about...”

“
Now!” Keaton did his best to pick out a cluster of the things, but he had only used one of these launchers in training years ago. His aim was high, and he only managed to kill two of the monsters with his first shot. His second was closer to the mark. And his third hit dead on.

Tallheart, on the other hand, lobbed each shot with judicial precision. The monsters came on like a school of hairy fish. They broke around each crater of death that opened in their way only to come seamlessly together on the other side. They flowed. Claws sprung out ahead, gripping sand and dirt and flinging their bodies ahead in sickening repetition.

Before he knew it, Keaton was out of explosives and had scarcely put a dent in their numbers.

“
You have any more tricks in that bag, Tallheart?”

“
Just stuff you could throw, sir.”

“
Then get ready to throw it all. The rest of you, pick your targets and aim well. Take clean shots,
don't just fire into the mass or you won't hit anything worthwhile.”

The monsters were within a hundred yards now, nearing the base of their little hill.

“
I'd really hoped to never find myself in this situation again...” Keaton said to no one in particular. “Pick your damned targets well!” He took a deep breath. “Open fire!”

The monsters fanned out as they hit the base of the hill, sweeping to the sides as if to envelop the entire mound. Keaton was glad in that moment that he hadn't called all of his men to one side. The rapid cracks and barks of the guns around him seemed beyond inadequate to the challenge. They were headed up the hill now. He saw many in the first line drop, only to be trampled by the hundreds that followed. Then the entire first few rows disappeared with a shock in a cloud of dust and blood.

Tallheart's mines gave Keaton a brief taste of hope. But it was only seconds before the next wave came flying through the haze and brought back the acrid savor of despair. He fought it down and brought his own rifle to his shoulder.

Keaton picked off three in a heartbeat. He kept the gun moving, finding any point in the line that seemed to be gaining and picking off the leaders. He whipped the gun to his right, firing at one and then the next that took its place. Brought the gun back to the left, clearing three out of the way with two bullets. Skill pumped thoughtlessly into his fingers with the adrenaline. He pointed back down the hill directly in front of him and unloaded the rest of the magazine.

Muscle memory took over as his hands swapped the empty clip for a full one thoughtlessly. He had a fresh round in the chamber before the monsters had taken three more steps. They were within twenty yards. The killing was about to begin in earnest. It would be over soon.

He shot two more between the eyes before flipping his gun to automatic and sweeping the entire line. He stood. Let the bastards see him. He doubted they felt fear, but if they did, he wanted them to know who it was they should. He yelled as the churning blackness barreled into his men. They didn't really tackle or pounce so much as bowl into them. One after the other was taken down in a flurry of claws and long legs. And soon there was nothing left standing between Keaton and a sea of death.

He threw his rifle at the nearest beast, drawing the short sword from his thigh as the first one lunged at him. He swept the blade across its throat as he stepped lightly to the side. But three more were already leaping. Major Anders Keaton bellowed his war cry as he spun to the kill.

T
WENTY-
E
IGHT

T
HE WAY TO
I
LTHULN PROVED FAR MORE COMPLICATED THAN THE
S
HADOW
K
ING HAD INITIALLY ANTICIPATED
.
The three day hike to the opening of the pass into the valley Albentine had taken him a week. Patrols swept the foothills with enough regularity to leave him wondering if a whole army wasn't dedicated to the task.

The hike into Albentine itself was harrowing; the steep walls of the narrow gorge prevented any alternative escape. The Dragon's Teeth themselves were a ring of mountains most considered impenetrable. Albentine was the only entrance he actually knew, and there were two towers at its entrance, which were very much new to him. Neither seemed accessible from the ground. He wondered how the men that were stationed there came and went. All that really mattered to him was what they could and couldn't see.

He watched for a day as patrols entered or exited the valley on a regular schedule. From end to end, the pass was almost five miles long, three of those were hemmed in completely by sheer rock. It was obvious to him that he would have to make his attempt at night. What was not obvious was whether or not it was worth the risk. There were other ways into the Spring Vale, at least so he had been told. None so quick, and none so sure, but none so well protected either.

The Shadow King would make it through the pass, he decided. He wasn't sure he could find any other way on his own, and Albentine was familiar territory.

Night came quickly enough, as more mounted patrols came and left the valley. They were certainly on high alert. At least they weren't likely to be caught off guard by the Demon's forces. That gave him a sense of comfort. He wished no ill on those he was about to betray, though the hypocrisy of the sentiment didn't entirely escape him.

He slid through the trees and craggy boulders as he made his way towards the sheer granite peaks. There was no mountain range in the world as impassable as the Dragon's Teeth. It was what kept the capital of the Western Kingdom perfectly protected, so he had been told. To look at them one had little trouble believing it to be true.

Gaining entrance to the valley was simple enough in the cover of darkness. His black armor and cloak hid him well enough from prying eyes, as did his skill. Torches illuminated the mouth to the valley more than he would have liked, but he was able to slip through in the shadows nonetheless. He didn't even feel the need to jump into the metaphysical to avoid detection.

The hike up into the pass went well enough. It leveled out so much that it didn't truly feel like walking uphill. If he remembered correctly, there were only two curves in the path that could obstruct his view ahead. But as he had hoped, the patrols at night were less frequent in their passage and he was left with enough time to make it through.

Or so he thought, until he came around the first winding bend. In his path stood two more towers, which were no problem in themselves, but between them was a gate. A gate as tall as the walls of the gorge, roughly forty feet high. The Shadow King stopped and put his back to the wall, listening and watching for signs of life. The area here was as well-lit as torches could get it, which wasn't very well at all, but it still gave him reason to pause. He had wondered why there was no gate at the mouth any longer; it made some sense now. This was a far better death trap.

The gates opened as a mounted troop of ten came through from the other side. He lowered himself behind a cluster of stones, jutting up like dull teeth from the bend. They rode by after a minute, torches licking the wind and making long shadows jump all about him. The hooves of their coursers left a light dust floating in the air. He turned again to watch as the gates were swung slowly back in place. The double portcullis dropped noisily on both sides of the thick wood.

He could climb it, but if anyone was watching from the towers, he would easily be seen. There would be another patrol soon, he reasoned. One had always entered the valley a few minutes before one exited. If that held true at night they would be here in just a matter of minutes.

He would need to be closer, but not much. He followed the wall of the gorge as it straightened out. There were a good hundred yards between himself and the gates. If this were to be a true trap for an advancing army, they should have put some sort of bastion on the slope above him. The crossfire between that and the towers would make it a truly lethal patch of road. He turned to look and ducked immediately, cursing under his breath.