"I guess we're out"
Written By DWilliam 2/09/2011 07:53:00 PM
Then all hell broke loose.
I anticipated the first wave of Slayers, pulling at the rock and asphalt that covered the roof of the convention center with a push of will and a harsh breath. The held energy rushed out of my fingertips, and a wall of compressed concrete shot up into the air out from the ceiling, just as five Slayers jetted near my right flank. Their skeletal, tarry bodies slapped brutally against the hard rock, but I didn’t stay turned to them long enough to see if they were still in the fight. I had already repositioned myself, reassessing and moving on to the next threat. The rest of the surrounding horde had begun swarming in like ants on picnic, the fifty or sixty unearthly beings melting into one dark, muddy maelstrom of bladed fingers, inhuman screeches, and featureless faces.
Lightning flashed violently across the clouded night sky as the creatures swirled nearer, wordless voices taunting and challenging. They thought they had me beat, but they couldn’t have been more wrong. The fight hadn’t even begun.
I closed my eyes, and focused all of my mind, body, soul, and sprit to draw upon the life around me.
There is energy all around us, even if you don’t know what it is. It’s like a pulse that beats through everything, or a steady stream that flows through and around, binding the world as one. The energy is everywhere; in the crowd of a concert, in the laugh of a friend, the embrace of a lover, even in something as simple as the simple routine of life. It permeates skin, rock, steel, and soul, like an invisible thread. Some people call it magic, or the force, but it’s all the same thing at the end of the day. Whatever you call it, you can feel it if you’re quiet enough, and you know how to listen. There is a kind of power in it, and if you know how to tap into it, to link yourself with it, you can manipulate it and reshape it to whatever uses you can think of. That’s what the “Wizards” were, just people who knew how to work within the flow of life, and use it to their advantage. It was that knowledge that I drew on, and as we all know: knowledge is power.
I set my jaw, spaced my feet apart in a standard fighter’s stance, and spread my hands out to my sides, palms to the ground. I took a measured breath in, and the wind swirled towards me in kind. I thought of the storm raging above me, and the torrents of atmosphere shifting with the clouds and thunder. My fingers began to close, a little at first, deliberately slow, as if to grasp the air around me. I had done the motion thousands of times before in my training, but I had never attempted to move this much energy around, and definitely not against this many enemies. It was dangerous, not to mention reckless, and it would almost surely get me killed. I glanced down at the tarred ceiling I was standing on, and thought of the hundreds of teenage prom-goers underneath me, unaware of the eminent danger overhead. If someone didn’t stop the army of bred murderers from doing what they did best, they wouldn’t have a prayer. It would be a massacre.
I couldn’t just step aside. One way or another, I was in this for all the marbles.
The Slayers started to twirl faster, closing the distance with every second that passed. They would take their time, hitting me all at once so they could savor ripping me apart. They inched ever the closer until one of the things reached out to take a swipe at my legs with its bladed hands, but I was waiting for it. I released the energy I was holding in my bones, pushing my arms out. My will flowed out of me in a rush, leaving goose-bumps from the nearly electric sense of power coursing through me. My will touched the world around me, and it expanded, snatching the air with it as it left. A cyclone of air as big around as a Volkswagen tornadoed out with me as the epicenter, and struck the vaguely humanoid Slayers closing in around me with all the intensity that mother nature had to offer.
The fuckers weren’t grounded and were completely exposed out on the roof, which coupled with all of them rushing at me in a mob made for a great cacophony of flying nasties. Some toppled over the edge of the some-twenty-story convention center; others were simply shot high into the clouds and out of sight to be swallowed up by the storm. The rest though almost instantly recovered, scampering over their fellow assassins to rejoin the fight. They moved fast, too fast for the naked eye, and definitely too fast for me to out run, but I had accomplished what I had wanted: I had bought me the seconds I needed to reach into my pocket and pull out my battle-scarred Zippo.
As the remaining Slayers scurried swiftly to me, I flicked the rounded top, leveled the wick at the rushing horde, and struck the flint, snarling, “Let’s see you bounce back from this.”
The first rule of manipulating energy is simple: You can’t use what isn’t there. You can’t make lemonade without lemons. All I had in my immediate surroundings were rain, wind, and rock. With the lighter though, I had a fourth option:
Fire.
My will lashed out, just as the tiniest spark flicked out of the Zippo, but that was more than enough. The small flickering of heat caught all the same, and with my will and the energy from the storm as the fuel, it expanded in only the way flame could: wickedly and unforgiving. I held the one arm out, the other shielding my face from the heat. The blaze shot forward with vigor, igniting any Slayers that it touched. I twisted quickly around, leveling my weapon and striking the flint again, with near the same results. One Slayer got to my back, and I had to duck quickly to avoid losing my neck. I rolled with the dodge, popping up a few feet away, and shooting another half-second stream of fire out at the attacker.
Another jumped over a air conditioner, flying at me at neck breaking speed. I was barely able to bring my arm up in time to shoot him down. The flame arched wildly at the sloppy shot though, and flame splashed over the large commercial air conditioner.
Only, it wasn’t an air conditioner.
The brief light from the fire showed a large red diamond painted on the metal siding. I couldn’t make out any words, but there were large licks of drawn flame inside the diamond. My eyes widened just as the propane tank exploded, sending me into the air, and caving the roof underneath me.
I fell. There was nothing coordinated or pretty about it. I was lost in a fiery cloud of rubble, too black body parts, and rain turned to steam. I somehow found my head, and slapped my hands together, forming a sphere of air around me. I would still die all the same if I hit the ground, but at least I would be able to see which way was up. The fire dissipated, leaving solid black smoke above me, but I could see again. I plummeted down to lights, streamers, and balloons; the prom. I released the air surrounding me, and redirected my attention down. I called upon the same energy, focusing this time on a long cylinder. The air rushed to fill where I had directed it, and I began to slow, but the ground was rushing up to fast, and I was already falling too hard. I pushed harder, and I slowed a little more, enough for the rubble to pass me. Some nicked me, and even at he reduced rate I was falling I was able to pass unscathed. The people below wouldn’t get that lucky though.
Most had fled at the sound of the explosion, but it had happened so quick and teenagers weren’t noted for their intelligence. A few just stood, paralyzed by fear or intrigue, I don’t know. I was certain though that they would be killed instantly in the three seconds it took for the debris to hit.
So I took one hand off of my lifeline and reached out at the hardwood dance floor and the foundation below. I couldn’t stop the rubble, but I could shield the party-goers.
I yanked up with my outstretched hand as hard as I could, pulling just enough earth and rock up to glace off the falling rubble. Not enough to protect the idiots below, but they would survive. I hit the a heartbeat later, falling hard on my shoulder with enough force to break bone. I heard more than felt the crack, and I rolled down a slope of raised wood. I lay there as the fire sprinklers kicked in, and that’s when the murmurs started.
I looked up into the eyes of hundreds of teenagers, all of which witnessing everything that had just happened.
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