Shadow Cursed Page 4

  Again he spotted the movement that had caused him to hide there all night flat against the earth. Still the creature didn’t move out of the dark entrance. Something was definitely there, a warm blooded creature from its heat readings, but beyond that he wasn’t sure.

  A motion alarm began beeping indicating movement had been detected with one of the cameras mounted on the circumference of his helmet. The volume indicated that it was far away. A marker appeared on his screen to indicate where it was in relation to Cane, its distance from him and its travel speed.

  Remaining absolutely still Cane gave the helmet a whispered order, “Intruder onscreen.”

  Immediately a dark form appeared on the view screen replacing the cleft. It moved powerfully and swiftly across the ground far faster than Cane thought was possible for a human or an orc. It also appeared smaller than any orc Cane had ever seen. Cane whispered again, “Track and record.”

  The view continued to follow the creature’s flight but came to a stop as it reached the cleft and another black-skinned creature stepped forward to bar its way with a staff. The runner became agitated casting looks over its shoulder. Knowing the helmet would warn him of any pursuers Cane kept watch on the two as they began to argue.

  A horn blast echoed down the canyon and the runner again tried to gain entry into the cleft but the staff wielder shoved him backwards into a patch of sunlight. The camera followed the creature as it entered into the light and began to emanate clouds of smoke. The creature finally managed to roll out of the light but it appeared to have been severely burned. Cane ordered, “Split screen show previous view.”

  The screen split in two one still showing the smoking creature and just in time to show the cleft exploding. Rubble and dust came pouring out of the hole showering the burnt creature with debris. Cane ordered the screen to focus on the creature lying on the ground.

  Another horn blast resounded off the canyon walls, this time closer. It seemed to galvanize the creature to rise to its feet and carry on running down the canyon, avoiding the patches of sunlight growing around it until it could go no further without crossing a large stretch of sun drenched ground. The creature ran for all it was worth but before it reached halfway it burst into flame. The creature carried on for a further eight feet before ploughing into the earth just short of the shade.

  The fire burned hot and fast until all that remained of the creature was brittle bones and dust.

  Cane waited for the coming intruder alert and focused on the canyon entrance, expecting one or more of the hideous black creatures. Instead he was shocked when a group of heavy-set short men came marching in formation round the bend. Every one of them bore a beard that reached their navels and carried an axe of some sort in one hand and a round shield in the other.

  They increased their speed and spread out at a command from their leader when they exited the narrow defile. Within minutes they arrived at the smouldering remains.

  They automatically took up defensive positions around the site while the leader searched the remains. Cane increased the audio input so that he could record any communication amongst them for the directors to analyse.

  To his surprise the voices sounded English, heavily accented, almost coarse, but he could just make it out.

  “Don’t these blackhearts ever learn that we don’t want them here,” said the leader who was wearing a gold tinged metal helmet, as he kicked the ash with his foot.

  Another man constantly scanning the surroundings replied, “Goblins never give up sir, they just keep coming. It’s a good thing they can only travel in the dark or else we would have an endless tide of them.”

  “I spit on goblins and the whores that spawned them. They don’t stand a chance against me and Backbreaker.” The small man hefted his butterfly axe with ease, its blades reflecting patterns in the light.

  Cane listened with interest to these small powerfully built men, obviously mutated over generations by crystal dust. Without protection they had little hope of remaining pure. At least they still looked and acted human, unlike the goblin slowly eroding in the wind.

  When the group finally marched away Cane stopped the recording and began his descent towards the remains to gather a sample, but all he could find was scattered ashes.

  He made his way under cover to the cleft but the rock fall had completely closed the entrance the staff wielding goblin had been guarding.

  Cane checked his focal point meter and read only two bars. He was almost at the cut off boundary from the jump point, only two miles before jumping would be suicide. But the directors had been very specific, search and find any intelligent species within the mountains and bring back samples. Anything would do, blood, hair or flesh. An entire body was out of the question under ten bar range.

  Cane decided it would be best if he continued in the direction the small men had come from, but first he had to send a report via com link.

  Moving to the cover of some boulders he activated the com unit in his suit and broadcast the video and audio he had recorded. He settled down as he waited for the Directors to watch the recording and establish a link to his radio unit. After fifteen minutes Director Sutcliff’s voice came through the speakers in his helmet. “Well done Cane, we were expecting good work but this is spectacular. Have you managed to get any samples for us?”

  “Only ash from the goblin’s body. I’m sending it now.” Cane placed the sample in a small cylinder and pushed it into the mini jump point. A short electronic hum followed when he closed and activated the unit.

  “Good. The sample will be directly couriered to us but we may need something more substantial. We need you to stay in the field until you can get us more information about both of these races. We have begun to install the next jump point where you indicated and we expect it to be functional within two days. That should extend your range another twenty miles. Your priority as always is to maintain purity and don’t reveal your presence.”

  “Yes sir. I’ll be needing supplies in a week but the new charger for the suit is working better than the last one. I’ve had no problems with it.”

  “Good. Report every day as usual Cane.”

  “Yes sir,” replied Cane.

  CHAPTER 11

  Gabriel

  Gabriel heard the sound of his alarm clock beeping and struggled to reach it from his bed. He caught the smell of antiseptics and opened his eyes blinking in the early morning light. The heart monitors beeping increased and the nurse taking down his vitals noticed his eyes were open and rushed off. It took Gabriel a moment to realize he was in the medical tent.

  He struggled to sit up but couldn’t move anything below his arms. Fearing the worst he lifted the sheet covering him and discovered why. Dozens of hot water bottles covered him from his feet to his neck. Even now the coldness still lingered inside his body and he felt drained of energy.

  A doctor arrived at his bedside and checked his chart and monitors before asking, “What happened to you Gabriel?”

  Loosening his dry tongue Gabriel managed to say, “A staff...”

  The doctor nodded, “I thought so, there was another soldier that picked one up. He wasn’t as lucky as you. We found him covered in ice and frozen like a statue, still holding the staff. After that all staffs were handled carefully,” said the doctor sombrely. “I need to take your temperature if you don’t mind. If it’s high enough I’ll ask you to go back to your bunk so we can move somebody else into this bed.”

  Gabriel nodded and lay back. The doctor took the measurement with a thermometer, nodded approvingly and began to remove the hot water bottles. “You’re below core temperature norm but if you keep drinking hot beverages you should be okay in a few hours. A nurse will get you some hot coffee and escort you back to the barracks when you’re ready.”

  “Thank you doctor,” said Gabriel as he finally managed to sit up.

  “You almost died out there. From what I hear you held back the enemy and managed to kill a shaman.”

  “
Is that what they’re called, the ones with the staffs?”

  “What? Oh yes. The prisoners are a font of information. Mostly about how they’ll kill us. Anyway I have other patients to take care of, I must be off.”

  The doctor’s words sounded odd somehow but Gabriel couldn’t place why. The nurse returned with a cup of hot coffee, then rushed off again to aid a doctor shouting for assistance.

  Finishing the coffee Gabriel felt a little better and tried to get off the bed. A feeling of being watched came over him and he looked around the room until he spotted a soldier watching him from the shadows of a cabinet.

  The man frowned and moved across the room towards Gabriel. “I see you have recovered.” His short black hair matched his predatory eyes that continued to study Gabriel as he approached. The only identification the man had was the commander insignia on his uniform.

  “Allister’s man,” Gabriel mumbled.

  “Aren’t we all?” replied the commander.

  “Of course, he’s the general. Where’s your nametag sir?”

  “I believe it got lost in the fighting,” said the commander dismissively. “So you managed to hold a breach last night Gabriel. You might be interested to know that the goblins call you the white shaman.”

  “Goblins?” asked Gabriel confused.

  “The creatures that attacked us call themselves goblins. The shamans, the staff wielders as you called them, are their leaders.”

  Gabriel realized what had sounded odd earlier. “They speak English?”

  “If you can call it that. There are a lot that only speak in grunts and growls but most seem to at least understand English. A shaman captive we have speaks almost fluently. He said that English is the language of their gods.”

  “They speak to gods?” asked Gabriel.

  “That’s what the shaman would have us believe. He said that they will attack again and again until all our souls are food for their gods,” said the commander studying Gabriel.

  “Why are you here sir?” asked Gabriel flexing and massaging his muscles as pins and needles started to rack his body.

  “To see the white shaman in person. But I have work to do, I won’t keep you any longer.” The commander turned and walked towards the entrance.

  Gabriel got off the bed and made his way slowly out the tent into the sunlight. He enjoyed the warmth as it slowly penetrated his skin and washed away thoughts of goblins. He closed his eyes and started when a hand touched his shoulder lightly.

  “Sorry to startle you sir. Doctor Malone said that you might need an escort back to your barracks,” said a woman’s voice behind him.

  He turned around to face an attractive woman dressed in pyjamas that were covered in blood stains. “Are you a nurse, miss?”

  “No, I’m a doctor, a paediatrician. I have very little experience in surgery before last night so now that it’s quieter Malone asked me to see if you needed any help.” The woman smiled as she brushed some hair away from her aquamarine eyes.

  “I think I’ll be fine, doctor,” he stammered. “I want to check the camp out before my shift starts.”

  “Very well, but call me Tasha, its short for Natasha. Come back for a check up later Gabriel.” She turned and walked back into the medical tent. Her long blond hair blew tantalizing in the gentle breeze.

  “Yes… Tasha,” he whispered under his breath as he watched her walk away. The breeze changed direction and blew a cloud of smoke his way making his eyes water. When he could see again she was gone.

  In full sunlight he saw the true extent of the destruction that had taken place during the night. Fires still burned throughout the camp, the worst damage appeared to be the centre of camp where a huge plume of smoke rose into the air. Craters marred the ground around him and as he approached one he smelt the acidic green gas rising from it. Clothes and weapons lay where they had been discarded and soldiers rushed by carrying equipment and bodies. In the distance a fire truck tried to put out flames on a storage tent that was already half destroyed, as men pulled containers out of the blaze.

  Trying to keep busy and warm himself up Gabriel started collecting rifles and handguns that were lying around, bundling them into a tarp and dragging it behind him. He decided to see the damage done to the armoury so he headed towards the tower of smoke.

  He passed more fires and even bodies left where they had fallen. Gabriel stopped to check if any were still alive but none were. He arranged the dead with their arms crossed, closed their eyes and covered the bodies with whatever he could find nearby. Finally he reached the area where the armoury used to be but only a black smoking crater remained with burnt bodies scattered around. Approaching a goblin body covered by a tarp he pulled the tarp off and rolled it onto its back to study its features up close.

  Its skin was black, tough to the touch and wrinkles covered its face. Its nose was flat and wide above a mouth filled with sharp triangular teeth. Hundreds of scars crossed its bare chest and arms. Its body was at least twice as big as a man’s, all corded muscle. The goblin’s hands ended in large shiny black claws. Smoke slowly rose from its skin as if the sun was burning it.

  Suddenly the goblin’s eyes opened and flared red. It grabbed Gabriel’s shirt pulling him close, for a moment it stared at him then it shrieked in fear. Its eyes rolled back into its head as it died of terror. Gabriel broke the goblin’s grip on his shirt and scrambled backwards. A soldier ran up to the body, aimed his rifle at the goblin’s head and fired three shots.

  Gabriel grabbed hold of his leg and shouted, “What was that for?”

  “No more prisoners, General’s orders,” said the soldier breaking Gabriel’s grip and marching off in search of more goblin bodies.

  Gabriel got up and moved away from the goblin. As he reached his weapon collection he spotted a new structure nearby and decided to investigate. As he drew closer he realized that it was a shaded stockade and forgot about the goblin’s body which had begun to burn and the weapons he had collected.

  Roughly welded metal bars each forming a square nine feet wide and high had been firmly hammered into the ground and chained together forming a rough circular cage. The entire makeshift stockade was covered by the remains of a burnt tent supported by a pole in the centre.

  Guards surrounded the stockade facing inwards, armed with stun weapons and rifles. As Gabriel approached the sergeant on duty stood up and saluted him, “Sir.”

  “Sergeant, I want to talk to the prisoners,” he ordered. The goblins within the stockade shuffled restlessly and whispered amongst themselves.

  “Yes sir, but nobody is allowed in. The last time somebody tried to go in alone, the only thing that made it back was his arm.” Gabriel moved towards the fence and the goblins nearby backed away.

  “That’s strange, they usually move towards us when we get too close,” said the sergeant, keeping his hand on his sidearm.

  One goblin moved forward to face Gabriel and said in a guttural voice, “They saw you, white shaman.”

  “Who saw me?” asked Gabriel studying the goblin.

  “My gods see with our eyes and they saw what you did to the other shamans. When you grabbed one of our staffs, they reached out to capture your soul like the other warrior but you were too quick and they lost you. They will find you again, white shaman, and take your soul just like the others.”

  “What others?” asked Gabriel noticing fewer scars on the shaman than he had on the warrior.

  “All of your kind that died last night are theirs by right of conquest. They will sustain my gods for years. If you are the best shaman your tribe has then your race will not last long,” sneered the shaman.

  “I’m not a shaman. I’m a soldier, a warrior,” replied Gabriel.

  “It does not matter what you think you are. Without gods to protect you on our world you are just food.”

  “How do your staffs work?” asked Gabriel trying to gather more information.

  “Why should I tell you human, your ignorance weakens you. Perhap
s my brothers will find you as amusing as I do and keep you as a pet,” said the shaman grinning.

  “Trying to goad me won’t work. I’ve dealt with your kind up close and I’m the one that walked away,” said Gabriel coldly.

  “Excuse me sir, are you Lieutenant Gabriel Storm?” a man called out, ending the interrogation.

  Gabriel turned to answer the soldier, “Yes, private. What can I do for you?”

  “General Allister wants to see you immediately in his command tent,” answered the private.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m still a little stiff from last night.”

  The private saluted and ran back towards the command tent. Gabriel dutifully followed and when he arrived he was sent directly in by the guards at the entrance.