Blood of the Ancient - The Helix Rebellion saga #1

Chapter 31

Part six: Fireworks

The rain was bounding down in fat, heavy balls that soaked to the bone anyone unfortunate enough to be caught up in it. The sky was a dark mauve, and incredibly angry looking. A distant crackle could be heard, lasting for a few seconds. The magnificent stone built houses that lined the outskirts of South Barlow were on lock-down, hot smoke billowed out from the thick chimneys as the residents kept warm by their log fires inside. Logan glanced through the huge curtained windows of Parliament Building as he rumbled down Knaveswood Alley, spying corrupt ministers who were probably scheming at their desks, or deciding upon a new law that would increase their own ridiculous wealth. When Logan reached Saint-Claudius Abbey, he slowed the HellCat to a stop. Sitting astride the thrumming beast, engine idling rhythmically, he peered into his rear-view mirror. Watching. Waiting. At the far end of the split waterway ahead, commonly known by Northerners as the Devil's Causeway, Logan could see Malik Tower supporting the great castle above. The Waterfall of Sorrow flowed endlessly from God's Peak, plunging into the shimmering lake below. The base of the tower was guarded by a security post with armed Malikan soldiers. Once through this gate, the team would fight their way up and along the mezzanine to the main castle gatehouse. Somewhere inside of the castle, no doubt hidden and protected by numerous security forces, was President Malik. Logan scowled at the thought of him, his mind intoxicated with the prospect of the evil dictator's demise.

As the van finally appeared in his rain splattered mirror, a bolt of lightning burst from the sky above, momentarily illuminating Malik Castle. The van slowed, giving a quick flash of its headlights, informing Logan that they were ready. Underneath the dripping matt-black helmet he wore, Logan took in a deep breath to calm his nerves, nodding his head in acknowledged realisation. It was time to follow through with the promise he had made to his friend Jax, the man who had sacrificed himself to give Logan a chance of survival. With his left foot, he clunked the gear lever into first, and gently opened up the throttle. Slowly at first, then as he reached the causeway he cranked her fuel-injected lungs wide open with a sharp twist, the front wheel lifting in the process as he thundered along the smooth tarmac, picking up speed as he progressed through the spray and splatter. The monstrous rear tyre desperately sunk its rubbery-teeth into the slippery wet surface to keep the beast steady on the track. He set his focused mind on the security post ahead, flipping the switch next to his left thumb to activate the canister grenades. When he got close enough he would unleash the shells at the guard station, hopefully creating an opening to the tower in the process. He knew that somewhere close behind him, amongst the thunder and the gloom, was Willard's van trying in vain to keep pace. He wasn't worried though, they would arrive soon enough.

***

The three men were huddled together in their little wooden shack, trying to keep warm by the oil burner. Outside, almost looked like it was night time, it was just as dark. The rain entered through the barred windows, soaking anything within its reach, and the crackle of thunder appeared to grow closer. A flash suddenly occurred, as another bolt of energy zapped the ground nearby.

"Great Lunis," Said the drenched, disappointed looking guard. "I hope this bloody weather clears up by tonight. I'm meant to be taking Matilda out again."

"You dirty devil, Kennard," Shouted Busby. "She's barely old enough to get into the tavern that one." The older guard punched the shoulder of his younger comrade, making him twist in his swivel chair.

Kennard rubbed the shoulder that was hit, cursing at his colleague. "She is old enough you miserable old git!"

"Keep it down over there, I'm trying to sleep!" The warning came from the man lying down, Alvaro, he was the head-guardsman, and today he was in charge. He continued. "Stop messing around and man your bloody posts." He rolled back over on the dirty old mat and began snoring once more. Kennard and Busby silently cursed their boss with obscene hand gestures. They lowered the tone in their voices.