26
While the rest of the base is impressive, the Antarctican flag and the unity it reveals makes me beam with pride for my fellow man. It’s hard to believe that soldiers from different nations could come together under a single banner, but there it is, waving in the breeze, a symbol of our resistance against the monsters that would not just dominate us, but erase our presence from the planet.
But I don’t linger on the flag for long. The base is a beehive of activity and my eyes flash back and forth, taking in every nook and cranny. The strangest thing about the base is that it appears to be a combination of modern fortifications and ancient. It’s surrounded by tall, twenty foot walls. Some are gray stone—granite, I think, now braced with steel beams, and some are massive steel plates welded together. There are men across the top, and more halfway down, aiming their weapons through long windows. Several watchtowers overlook the base, once again a mix of old and new construction. I see snipers, so many snipers, keeping watch from the tall lookouts. Within the massive base are a group of modern buildings similar to what we saw at the FOB, but they’re surrounding what looks like a Mayan pyramid, beneath which runs a tunnel. Just beyond the buildings are two lines of artillery—howitzers, I think, all aimed toward the distance, their crews nearby and ready to fire.
Closer to the ocean, on a flat stretch of grass, is an array of attack helicopters laden with armaments. I recognize a few, but most are more modern than anything I’ve seen, and the variety suggests they belong to numerous nations. I quickly count fifty. They’re not up and running, but I assume the pairs of men waiting by the open cockpits are the pilots.
My eyes travel further to the left, out to sea, where I see the silhouettes of so many Navy vessels they look like one massive ship, covered in flashing lights. Their numbers are impossible to count in the dark, but at least a few of them are aircraft carriers. I can tell because the air roars with the sounds of patrolling jets.
Looking back to the base, I observe the front lines. Beyond the front wall, which will slow a Nephilim, but not stop it, there is something far more formidable. Tanks. Nearly a hundred of them. Lined up side by side, all aimed toward the west. And more are rumbling into place, arriving in a steady stream from transports at the coast, which gently slopes to the water. In front of the tanks are several long trenches filled with men and weapons. Before the trenches, a field of razor wire, and before that, a clearing that is no doubt laden with mines.
Perhaps the strangest thing about this force lies on the opposite side of the base from where I am now. Cresties. Maybe three hundred of the dinosaurs, lying on the ground, just waiting for the fight to begin. As creatures of violence, hunting and killing every day of their lives in an environment far harsher than this and filled with hunters and Nephilim, this is just another day. They might live. They might die. But either way, they’ll fight the Nephilim like they always have. Despite the fact that they can have a taste for human beings, these creatures have done more to reduce the ranks of the Nephilim over the past few thousand years than any man. I’m glad they’re here, and I send Zok and Grumpy off to join them.
It’s an impressive army. Enough to conquer nations. But while this powerful army of perhaps a hundred thousand, bolstered by the strength of modern weapons, can wreak havoc on a scale of Biblical proportions, they face an enemy numbering a million of
genuine
Biblical proportions, who can heal from any number of wounds and who enjoy the pain. If the two behemoths make it to the base, they’d just have to fall over and much of it would be destroyed beneath their girth.
Still, it’s a far better defense than the previous FOB, and our chances of survival are higher, if just by a little. Deep down, I know that the size of the base and number of tanks isn’t going to affect the outcome of this battle. That will come down to me. And Nephil.
Solomon!
The voice in my head makes me flinch.
Kainda tenses next to me. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” I say, and then smile. “Luca caught me off guard.”
I’m vaguely aware of Mira asking about Luca and Em giving an explanation as I focus on my thoughts and reply.
Luca! Are you in the new base?
Under the temple
, he thinks.
It’s where the leaders are. General Holloway is here. So are Merrill and Aimee.
Why are
you
there?
I ask.
I would prefer that Luca be far away from the action. Someplace safe.
I’m a general
, he thinks.
Well, not really, but I’m important. I’m coordinating everyone.
With your thoughts
, I deduce. Luca is just six, but he has my extraordinary mind and a telepathic ability given to him by Xin. A regular Professor X.
I’m not controlling them, though, just giving orders.
Well, that’s good,
I think to myself. But in the heat of battle, Luca might not fare so well. He might have my mind, but he also has my six year old temperament, which was about as tough as runny mashed potatoes. Of course, he was also raised in the underworld for a time and then trained by Tobias, who was loving, but demanding. He’s probably tougher than I was at his age. He might even be tougher than I was at thirteen.
Well, here’s my first orders for you to issue,
I think to Luca.
What is it?
The thought is so powerful that I can actually feel his excitement.
Open the gates and try not to shoot us.
Open the gates!
The thought explodes from the center of the base and reaches the mind of every single soldier, including Em, Kainda, Kat and Mira.
“The hell was that?” Kat says, rubbing her head.
“Luca,” Em says, smiling.
“He’s practically running the place,” I tell her and then start down the slope toward the side of the base where a gate is swinging open.
Our pace quickens and we reach the open gate at the same time as a welcoming committee that has hurried out from beneath the pyramid. Mira reacts first, seeing her parents. She breaks ranks, runs the distance between them and leaps into their outstretched arms.
Em runs next, scooping up Luca, who is dressed in green camouflage. If not for the wild, long blond hair that matches my own, he’d look like any other kid from the outside world. Em wraps her arms around her little brother and spins him in the air.
As I pass through the gates, I glance up at the watchtowers to either side. Both contain a mix of hunters and black clad snipers. The ones I don’t know just watch. Then I see Adoni, the Australian Aboriginal teacher, now wielding an assault rifle. He gives me a smile and a nod.
Next to Adoni stands Zuh, her pom-pom of curly hair now tied back against her head. She once tried to claim me as her own, vowing to beat Kainda in combat for the right of being my wife. I told her that wasn’t going to happen, and she seemed to respect that choice, but just in case it might come up again, I hold my hand up to her, revealing the wound on my hand. She looks momentarily surprised, but then smiles ruefully and nods in greeting.
A man next to Zuh, a big smile on his face, leans over the rail. “Chica!”
Mira waves up to him. “Cruz!”
“Am I glad to see you alive and kicking,” he says.
I recognize him as one of the men from the team that raced toward the South Pole and rescued Aimee along with Wright, Kat and Merrill. He sees Kat next.
“Dios mío!” he says. “Kat!”
She nods up to him, stoic, perhaps knowing what his next question will be. But Cruz doesn’t ask it. His eyes wander around our small band and he frowns. Wright’s absence speaks for itself.
“Relieved to see you in one piece,” he says.
“Likewise,” Kat says, and offers him a casual salute, which he returns.
General Holloway stops before me, looking me up and down before staring into my eyes as though evaluating my worth. He’s got at least a week’s worth of growth on his face and bags under his eyes. The man has been pushing himself.
“You look...rested,” he says. “Been on vacation?”
“If you don’t mind me saying, sir, you’ve looked better.”
This cracks a smile in his grim demeanor. He nods toward Mira.
“Got her back, I see.”
I nod.
“The Clarks are good people. They deserved it. But now it’s time to get the house in order. We don’t have much time.”
“How much time?” I ask.
He looks at his watch. “Eight hours. Give or take. We’ve been tracking them by satellite.”
“Then you know what we’re up against?”
He sighs and looks defeated for just a fraction of a second. “It’s going to get rough, but we couldn’t have asked for a better position. We’ve got cliffs on both sides. If they want us, they’re going to have to come straight down the middle. It’s a natural bottleneck, a half mile across. Call it the shooting gallery. It’s ten to one right now, but we have more men, weapons and vehicles arriving every hour.”
“Which nations are involved?” I ask.
“Hell,” he says. “Son, you got everyone. Well, everyone in range. The Russians found this place and set up shop early. They never intended on leaving without a fight. But once we all knew what we were facing, well, here we are. Chinese, Arab Nations, the EU, the Brits, Japan, Brazil, the Koreas and at least ten more.”
“Whose idea was the flag?” I ask, pointing to the largest of the bunch, flying from the top of the pyramid.
He motions toward Luca, “That would be your brother. Said you would like it. Also said that Antarctica was your land. And that you were the King.”
“He was right,” I say.
“About the flag?”
“About all three.”
We stare at each other for a moment and then he just shrugs. “We can talk about that if we don’t die.”
“Sounds fair,” I say. “Now about Luca.”
“I know what you’re going to say,” Holloway says. “And normally I’d agree. This is no place for a child. But here’s the thing. We’ve got an army made up of folks who speak fifteen, twenty languages. A lot of them can speak English, but at least fifty percent of our force doesn’t understand a word of it beyond Coke and Pepsi. It was a real problem at first, but then he figured out that thought has no language. A Spanish speaker receives the boy’s thoughts just as clearly as an English speaker. With his ability, he can give orders and direct troops with more efficiency and clarity than the confusing mix of radiomen and translators we were going to have to use. I’m sorry, but the boy is essential.”
I look at Luca, still wrapped in Em’s arms, excitedly telling Kainda a story while she rubs his hair. “If he gets hurt...”
“He’ll be by my side the entire time.”
“Beneath the temple?”
“It’s the safest place,” Holloway says, “Which brings me to my first question. Where will you be?”
I point beyond the wall, to the battlefield. “Out there.”
“Solomon!” Aimee shouts, running up and giving me a hug.
Merrill follows her, clapping me on the back. “My boy!” He wraps an arm around me and gives me a squeeze. “We can’t thank you enough for bringing her back.”
I lean back from the both of them and say, “I just have one more promise to keep. You’re all getting off this continent alive and together.”