The New World: A Step Backward (16 page)

Saturday
~
September 28, 2075
~
8:30 am

Doomsday loomed as Wolfuk and Foxuk headed toward the Skalag camp to conduct the next phase of the battle plan.  Being the eldest, Wolfuk led the way on horseback.  He held the reins in one hand and faced his brother.  "So, you told Protuk the Scargiles are joining the Skalags to attack Ukkiville on October 3rd, right?"

His younger sibling, who could pass as his twin with straight, black hair and a squared jaw, turned partway.  "Yep, Zolokt needed more time to prepare additional muclones, and his cousin, Gunkoft, plans to join forces."

Wolfuk shook his head.  "It's good you found out when they'll be advancing, but Protuk isn't taking any chances.  He's placed extra sentries near the trails to signal if there's a surprise attack.  By the way, he and Thoruk appreciated your handling of the last mission."

His favorite fishing and hunting partner smiled.  "I'm just happy I could help.  Thanks for recommending me.  It meant a lot."

"You earned their trust.  Besides, you're my scrawny, little brother."  He chuckled as Foxuk flashed the evil look he always used when called "scrawny."

Wolfuk gently snapped the reins.  "We'll follow the trail along the base of Caribou Mount.  It's not as visible to the Skalags."

Foxuk pointed to the packhorse in tow behind him.  "Why such a big load this trip?"

"We have two enemy positions to take out.  To level the field, we must destroy as many warriors, weapons, and facilities as possible — muclones too.  We need to demolish each location simultaneously so neither can warn the other.  Tropokt will go with you to hit the Scargiles.  I'll wipe out the Skalag's operations."

"Sounds a bit tricky.  We might get delayed by the savages at some point."

"You're right.  This is the most dangerous mission we've conducted but also the most important.  We have to do this right!  Ukkiville's fate depends on us neutralizing much of the enemy's power."

"How can the three of us do enough damage?"

"Remember what I told you about the muclones and Zolokt's facilities?  It's a large operation that requires unusual means to cripple it.  We'll do well if we destroy 40 to 60 percent of their munitions and even more of the labs and monsters.  We're going to use explosives we received from Texas.  The dynamite will eliminate a few clansmen and muclones but won't totally disable the labs."

He tugged the reins and looked into Foxuk's eyes.  "What I'm going to tell you is a secret, not to be shared.  Only four people are aware of this weapon: Thoruk, Protuk, Intellulka, and I.  Thoruk and I were informed last month after the battle preparations meeting.  Tomorrow, I'll tell Tropokt enough to be safe when you trigger it."

"What kind of weapon are you talking about?"

"I don't know all the specifics.  Intellulka is the only one who understands how it really works.  The rest of us barely comprehend the minimum to set it off and clear the area before getting fried.  The professor referred to it as a miniature electromagnetic pulse generator, or EMP.

"The only reason I know anything of this technology is that he made me read the book about Texas, which described nuclear bombs and EMPs."  He looked around for a moment, then continued.

"Intellulka said he and another friend, Jacob, invented the plasma-based device many years ago — before the World Annihilation Period — using something called nanotechnology from knowledge gained during their first job.  This weapon is smaller, but deadlier over a limited area, than the EMPs used by the instigators of WAP.

"They improved the design to develop energy waves which impact the brain in addition to electronic equipment.  The devices you are toting can scorch the nervous system of all beings within its range, instantly killing hundreds, whether they be human, animal, or Zolokt's muclones.

"The professor warned that the surge is like a lightning bolt scattering across all nerves, running up the spine, and exploding into the brain, incinerating everything in its wake."

Foxuk scrunched his nose and glared at him.  "You're joking, right?  I have no idea what you just said other than a lot of instant deaths from toasted nerves and brains — and you want me to detonate such a thing?  How are we supposed to survive?"

"I'll explain it further when we talk to Tropokt.  For now, you don't need to know anymore until we get near the encampment."

"Alright, if you say so, but just make sure your favorite brother doesn't end up with a charred cranium.  I kind of enjoy fishing and hunting with you once in awhile."

Wolfuk laughed.  "Okay, I'll do the best I can.  Come on, we have a lot to do in a very short time.  Let's go!"

The Next Day
~
4:45 pm

Within a mile of the Skalag encampment, Wolfuk scanned the trail. 
Where is Tropokt's mark?  It'll be dark soon.
  Further ahead, he pulled the reins and looked at Foxuk.  "See there."  He pointed to two small pine branches lying next to each other.  "That's it.  We need to get off here and keep out of sight of any sentries."

Foxuk dismounted.  "During the last mission, Tropokt told me we should lead our horses directly into the forest and follow markers until we find a clearing."

After a half hour, Wolfuk found the glade and motioned.  "Hide behind those bushes."  Joining his brother, he cupped his hands around his mouth and whistled the rare blue robin call he used before.  He repeated it.  A few seconds later, three repetitive chirps pierced the air.

Wolfuk whispered.  "Wait till we see him and he signals everything is okay."  Tropokt appeared at the clearing's edge and flashed the all clear.  Leading the steeds, they joined their contact.

The trusted spy gave Wolfuk a hug and did the same with Foxuk.  "You're timing's right.  They've increased the guards and expanded the boundaries ahead of the battle.  Zolokt suspects Ukkiville is up to something.  We've got to be very careful."

The Skalag insider waved them forward.  "We'll go to a safer spot to discuss plans."

They walked along a line of lifeless trees donning eerie skeleton fingers for branches.  Continuing deeper into the woods by a creek, Tropokt raised his hand.  "Let's talk here.  The water's noise will cover our conversation."

Wolfuk repeated a portion of the explanation about the secret device shared with his sibling earlier — enough for the mole to operate it.

Tropokt's eyes bulged.  "For years there have been rumors that Ukkiville possessed a devastating weapon.  Since it wasn't unveiled in previous raids on your village, Zolokt dismissed it.  He's not expecting anything like this."

Wolfuk stared at him.  "Good!  It should remain that way.  We must surprise both the Skalags and Scargiles when we set off the devices.  We'll have..."  A twig snapped to the rear.  Startled, he and his cohorts whirled.

Lifting his finger to his lips, Tropokt mouthed.  "I'll check it out — stay here."

He slowly tiptoed up the hill and peeked over a log.  He turned and smiled, flashing the okay sign, then slid back down.  "It's only a deer.  Shivers, we don't need that kind of scare right now."  He nodded to Wolfuk.  "Go on — you were saying, we'll have..."

"Ah yes, we'll have to split up and strike the two encampments in parallel.  I thought it best if you and Foxuk take out the Scargile installations together.  I'll hit the Skalag positions.  You showed me their location during my last trip, and I can handle this end.

"We'll stage the detonations for the same time in the shadows of dusk tomorrow.  It's important to get the sequence correct as discussed before.  Do NOT reverse the order!  Set the timers to go off as follows: EMPs first at 7:10 pm, followed by the explosives one minute later — exactly.  Let's sync our watches and wind them tight."

Furrowing his brow, Wolfuk glared at his partner, then directly into his brother's eyes.  "Remember, after you've set the timers, you must run as fast as possible.  You have to be at least 200 yards away from the EMP weapon when it detonates to avoid being toasted on the inside.  Understood?"

Monday
~
September 30, 2075
~
6:35 pm

After setting up the EMP device and all but one of the explosives, Wolfuk looked from behind a rocky cliff.  He observed the second entrance to the cave which housed weapons, Zolokt's labs, and muclones.  Nearby were a half dozen very large, dilapidated cages, similar to those he saw on his last scouting mission.  A putrid stench bombarded his nostrils, and he quickly covered his nose and mouth.

Something moved. 
Blazes, what has huge, furry legs like that?

A cluster of maples, cloaked in a splash of brilliant red, yellow, and peach colors stood between him and the creatures' prisons, partially blocking his vision.  To one side, a canyon dropped off into black nothingness; on the other, two Skalags guarded the cavern's entry.

How can I distract them?
  He scanned the area and found an apple-sized stone, grabbed it, and threw it behind the animal enclosures, where it rolled down the rocky cliff creating lots of noise.  Both sentries rushed and searched around the make-shift pens, spooking the creatures into a confusion of horrific roars, snorts, and shrieks.

Wolfuk sprinted to the cave, finding a wagon-sized boulder close to the entrance.  After wedging six tightly-wrapped sticks of dynamite in the space between it and the wall, he placed a timer and associated sparker next to them.

While he worked, sounds of whips and dreadful screeches — that only starved or tortured beings would unleash — filled the air.  He abhorred such monsters but felt sorry for the atrocious treatment they suffered under Zolokt.

With everything readied, he set the mechanical timer and peered around the boulder toward his exit path.  It was too late; the two armed men had returned to their post.

Shivers, now I've got to deal with them.
  He glanced at his watch — just 17 minutes remained.  As he was about to rise, a nerve-grinding growl echoed deep in the cavern, followed by someone screaming.  One of the guards, a muscle-bound ox of a man, dashed into the depths of the cavern not noticing Wolfuk.

Pulsing with adrenalin, he unsheathed his knife and raced toward the remaining sentry at the entrance.  Wolfuk dove, crashing chest high into the young Skalag, knocking him off his feet as they tumbled together near the cages.  At the end of the tussle, Wolfuk sat atop the warrior's torso, pinning his hands to the ground.

A short, pudgy boy with baby-fat cheeks and not much muscle lay beneath him.  In fear, the youngster's wide eyes darted side to side.

He isn't any older than 15.  I can't kill him!
  Wolfuk snatched his haggard captor's sword and lifted him with one arm.

He pointed down the trail opposite the direction he planned to escape.  "GO!  You better run for your life and don't look back, or I'll feed you to the muclones!"  Without hesitation, the terrified boy scampered like a scared rabbit.

Seconds Later

Behind the large munitions tent at the Scargile's camp, Foxuk set the timer for the last cluster of explosives.  As agreed, he relied on Tropokt to simultaneously position the EMP device at least 150 yards away, in close proximity to the encampment.

Finished at his end, Foxuk sprinted along the path, away from the imminent danger. 
I don't want to be one of those crispy critters!
  Under the moon's faint glow he scarcely made out the edge of the trees ahead.

From a distance to his rear, short, loud pops broke the night's silence — whizzing whistles streamed by his ears. 
What on earth? 
Confident the zinging particles accompanied dire consequences, his heart raced as his neck warmed.  Within 30 yards of the woods, he swerved one way then another, randomly changing the spacing and timing of his dodges, hoping to avoid whatever hurled past him.

Ear-piercing pops persisted, followed by high-pitched hisses zipping nearer to him as he weaved.  He gritted his teeth and ran faster until his legs gave out.  A horrifying force lifted Foxuk into the air and slammed him onto the ground, head first.  His face and nose plowed through the leaves and mud.

Relentless, searing pain stabbed his back.  His legs barely responded.  While trying to rise, a tormenting burn knifed through his spine and the side of his gut.  He reached down — the searing agony in his stomach felt wet.

When he raised his hand in front of his eyes, the sight of his own blood, dripping from his fingers, caused him to gag.  He held it in; the acidic juices left a disgusting taste in his throat.  Foxuk glanced lower.  Bright red gunk seeped out of a big hole in his coat, down the hide, and onto his boot.  He dropped to his knees, gagged again, then puked.

The mysterious sounds subsided, but he took no chances.  Though his legs resisted his urges, he willed himself to crawl forward. 
I need to get out of here, the dynamite is about to....

A blinding flare and tremendous explosion smacked him flat to the ground again.  He couldn't hear or see a thing, but he continued to claw and scramble on his fours.  Scorching pain tortured his belly as overwhelming panic stole his breath.

Excruciating throbs hammered his head as numbness crept up his thighs and lower spine.  While inching onward with his elbows, a horrid sensation swelled, and he glanced back to find his legs dragging in a trail of blood. 
Wolfuk, where are you?  Help me — I don't want to die!

At the Same Time

After making sure the horrified Skalag sentry retreated, Wolfuk fled as fast as possible in the opposite direction, knowing only minutes remained before the EMP and explosives at the encampment and caves detonated.  With a rush of adrenalin, he arched his back and sprinted harder than ever, refusing to look behind.

A brilliant light flashed across the surrounding cliffs, instantly followed by a thunderous blast.  The concussion's invisible energy thrust him in the air.  As he hit the ground sprawling, rocks from the bluff above pelted the earth around him.  Covering his head with his hands, he blinked and scrunched his face while a blaring ring persistently swamped his ears.

A Minute Later

While Foxuk doggedly inched forward in a grueling crawl, a sudden voice startled him.  He glanced up to notice Tropokt grabbing him under the arm to help him rise; but he couldn't feel the lower half of his body.  The trusted informant lugged him into the forest as his lifeless feet scraped along the mud.

Blurs streaked by Foxuk as disjointed fragments of his past flickered through his mind.  He grimaced and turned toward Tropokt.  "I'm hurt ... I need Wolf...."  Everything went black.

Twenty Minutes Later

In the distance under the crescent moon's dim glow, Wolfuk noticed faint blobs approaching the rendezvous clearing in the woods.  When they neared, he saw only one man leading a horse, the other lay across the second steed's back.  His heart skipped a beat.

Sprinting to their side and spotting his brother's bloodied coat, a sharp pain spiked his chest.  "What happened?"

Tropokt jumped from his mount.  "He was shot by a rifle!  It's bad.  He keeps asking for you."

"A rifle?"  Wolfuk ran to Foxuk and checked for a pulse.  It was almost non-existent.  "He's dying.  Help me get him down and put him over there."  He pointed to a nearby elm.

After he sat his younger sibling against the tree, Foxuk's unconscious body slumped forward.  Wolfuk snapped his fingers in front of his face.  "Foxuk!  It's me — Wolfuk!"  He softly tapped his cheek.  "Wake up!"

His stricken brother slowly moved his lips and softly groaned.  "Wh ... at?"

"It's me — Wolfuk!"

Foxuk's heavy eyelids barely opened to a slit.  "Big brother — is that you?"

Tears cascaded down Wolfuk's cheeks.  "Yes, I'm here, buddy."

"I did it.  We destroyed the Scargile camp — and I wasn't toasted.  Aren't you proud?"

Wolfuk's eyes flooded again.  "I know — I'm so proud of you — always have been."  He hugged his dying brother to his chest, gently rocking.  "I love you.  I'm going to take you home now."

Turning his head gingerly, Foxuk peered at him, then went limp.

Wolfuk swayed and whispered.  "Oh no, not you."  He placed his hands over his little brother's eyes and carefully closed them.  Foxuk's haunting words on the trail about fishing and hunting speared his heart.  "NOOO!  Don't take him!"