Gods and Men- The Hank Boyd Omnibus, page 15
part #1 of Gods and Men Series
“Better them than us,” he replies with little remorse. “If they catch us, we’re dead, don’t forget that for a second.” He ejects his magazine and replaces it with a new one. “Your jobs are to figure out where the hell we are. Mine is to keep you guys alive.”
“Oh, damn…”
They both spin around twin guns drawn, searching for a target, but find none.
My face must look like I saw a ghost because I get the same question in unison.
“What?”
We’ve entered the courtyard in my dream. Everything is the same. The dark gray and charcoal colors, the pillars, the empty pedestals, and the pyramid…
Wait a second…empty pedestals? I run over to the closest one and stop. “They’re empty?” I ask myself confused. “They weren’t empty in my dream.”
ROAR!
I snap towards the familiar sound and stumble away. One of the Minotaur creatures that should have been frozen in time steps out from behind a pillar, revealing its full height and girth and…its breed.
“Wh-what the…?” Nicole asks as it bellows again, stammering her words, forcing her to take a step back.
The half-human, half-rhinoceros slowly rounds the larger of the columns, advancing towards us. I’m guessing it stands about nine feet tall and weighs nearly half a ton. And like a person, it’s a biped, walking on two legs. The legs are those of a rhino, thick and powerful. Its body is humanoid and built like a Mr. Universe competitor. The thing’s arms are mostly rhino, like its legs, except for the hands. They are most definitely human…and huge…with claws.
Perfect for tearing us apart, I think with my mouth hanging open in shock.
Its head is the most terrifying feature though. The skull is all rhinoceros, sporting an equally bestial snout and three-foot-long horn. But, the eyes…they are a hundred percent human, and they’re watching us, studying our every move. It shouldn’t be too hard to track us right now though. We aren’t doing much right now, except gawking at the monster, gripped by fear.
It stops and lets out a snort and growl so low it sounds like the late Michael Clark Duncan is wearing Darth Vader’s helmet. The thing’s eyes focus on me and never waver.
Dang.
Then, I see something in the creature that I didn’t notice before.
“It’s stone—obsidian,” I say surprised. “But alive?” The jet-black exterior of the stone giant glistens in the low light, like moonlight reflecting off the surface of an oil slick on water.
“You said the sculptures in your nightmare were stone too, right?” Nicole asks never taking her eyes off of the creature.
“Yes, they were, but they weren’t alive and ready to kill us.”
“Look at the chest,” Kane says.
Nicole and I finally take our focus off the face and look down at its chest and abdomen. What we see is strange, but recognizable.
“Are those bullet wounds?” I ask. They pock the monster’s body like tiny meteor craters. The damage is as insignificant as shooting a semi-truck with a bb-gun.
“From your father, I’d guess,” Nicole replies. “I doubt Omar had the wherewithal to even draw his gun, let alone go one-on-one with it.”
Hearing the mention of my father sends me into a panic, and I scan the area quickly but happily find no blood or bodies.
“Looks like they got away,” Kane says, noticing my frantic search.
I look back to the brute and see something odd. It twitches its head a few times like it has a nervous tick.
It doesn’t wait for us to make the first move and charges, horn down, roaring the whole way.
We react the only way we can
We open fire.
“Aim for the knees and try to slow it down! I’ll try for its head!” Kane yells as he dives right and brings up both Eagles, opening up with a cacophony of cannon blasts. Thankfully, he’s still wearing his arm braces, or he’d be running around like Gumby, arms flapping about.
He lands on his back, just feet from the rhino, and fires off two more rounds, striking it in the shoulder. The monster swings a beefy fist in a downward arc, like an oversized sledgehammer. The blow smashes the ground, pulverizing the spot where Kane had just been. If the creature had found its mark, the man from Montana would have just turned into a big red smear of blood and guts, forever a stain on the rock-hard flooring.
But Kane had seen the killing blow coming, rolling away again, this time instantly getting to his feet. He’s shooting again, even before he’s fully moving, trying desperately to keep the monster at bay.
The giant blocks most of the projectiles with its forearm, sending chunks of obsidian shrapnel everywhere, roaring again. Kane is actually frustrating the thing. No surprise there, I think. The man could probably infuriate a brick wall.
Nicole and I circle around the thing’s right flank, gawking at the golem-like beast’s tenacity and its apparent thirst for making Kane into his own brand of ketchup. We stop and let loose a healthy bombardment of lead, unloading as fast as our fingers can twitch.
“If we concentrate our fire on its knee…” I yell over the rapid-fire thunderclap produced by our weapons. “…we should be able to at least hobble it and slow it—”
“Ugh!”
As we reload, a crashing sound and a grunt echoes across the courtyard. We look up and see the beast knock Kane off his feet, swatting him away like a pesky fly at a barbecue. He slams into one of the empty pedestals and flips up-and-over it, crashing hard on the other side.
“Holy shit,” I say, knowing the chances of us surviving this have now gone from a healthy “maybe” to a confident “not a chance in hell.”
33
“Kane!” Nicole and I scream in perfect harmony, fear gripping our bodies and voices alike. We know he can take a licking, but that was beyond a brutal blow.
Luckily, we hear him mumbling expletives on the other side of the pedestal, not sounding at all pleased with being tossed like a ragdoll on spin cycle. But at least he’s alive. If he were hit in the face and not the chest, the outcome would have been a lot worse for sure.
“Now what?” I ask rhetorically, a little too loud.
The rhino-man halts its attack on Kane and slowly turns around to face us. It snorts a cloud of dust and grime, once again locking its gaze onto me.
Shit.
But then an idiotic idea pops into my head. I wonder…
I whisper so only Nicole can hear me, “I’m going to lead it away. Do not move until I have its attention. Go help Kane and wait for my signal.” I don’t have time to explain my plan, but she sees the creature’s unnatural obsession with me and backs down. She’s about to holster both her weapons, but balks at the idea, just in case. Instead, she stands as still as a statue and waits for me to make the first move.
I step forward, towards the monster, trying to think of something to say. What do you say to a rhino-man, death machine?
Hi. How’s your day going? Sleeping well?
As I move, Nicole slowly makes her way around the rhino, giving it a wide berth.
A cold shiver tingles its way up my back, and a seemingly random thought enters my mind. It’s the same feeling I had before in the tunnels.
“Nannot?” I ask in confusion. The word just slips out of my mouth. I’m not sure what it means, but it feels like the right thing to say. And it must be because the beast’s eyes start to glow a crimson red and begin to bleed. Gross.
The second the blood starts to flow—the rhino starts to thrash his head back and forth like it’s writhing in pain.
“You!”
Did it just speak? I think, looking around just to make sure. I don't know if the others can hear it, and quite frankly, I hope they do. I don’t want to be the only one in the group that can talk to stone man-animals.
“How dare you use my name!”
Yep, it spoke. Its lips moved and everything, enunciating the words. I look beyond the speaking manimal to Nicole and see her eyes go wide. Yep, they can hear it too… Good.
An even colder chill races up and down my body, this one making my blood run cold. I recognize the voice. I do everything I can not to let it hear the fear in my voice.
“The End…” I say with dread. “You’re here?”
The Minotaur again shakes violently like it’s trying to fight the evil presence in its head. It even bashes itself in the temple as if attempting to slaughter the mental intruder…or possibly to kill itself.
“Yes, slave,” Nannot says. “I am always here.”
“How?”
“Once I splinter your mind,” Nannot explains, “I will always have dominion over you unless you die in the process of the breaking, that is.”
“So, you control this thing?” I ask.
The rhino-morph stands at attention and grunts, but this time it looks sharp and focused. Nannot must have full control now. The thrashing was the pain of him fully re-entering the creature’s mind.
“Rhonar was a worthy challenger once,” he says, “but sadly for him, he was not strong enough to resist me.”
Well, at least I have a name for what it’s worth.
“Very few have been able to deny me.”
Deny. There’s that word again.
The will of the chosen to deny, I think to myself, reciting the cryptic message again.
Rhonar’s body shudders again, clenching its manhole-cover-sized hands. Its eyes start bleeding more too. The pain its enduring must be excruciating.
Nicole finally reaches Kane and helps him up to his knees. He has a knot on his head but doesn’t look as bad as I expected.
Tough dude.
He then notices me standing alone with the monster that clubbed him away and draws his weapon. But before he can fire and ruin my plan, Nicole grabs his arm and shakes her head, mouthing the word, “Wait.”
“Hold on, back up. Challenger?” I ask, finally paying attention to what Nannot—The End—had said.
“Yes,” he replies, “all those who oppose me and fail, but do not perish, become my…decorations, or as I like to call them, my Nightmares, my…experiments. I created these for my own amusement, trying to create the ultimate combatants. I guess there was some good in what our tyrant taught us after all.”
Rhonar smiles, but there’s a hint of resistance etched on its face. The corner of the monster’s lips twitch at the effort, as it does whatever it can to resist its torturer.
Tyrant? I think. Who’s he talking about?
Thinking, I involuntarily glance over at the other seven empty stands and gasp. All of these things are now alive and roaming this place.
Well, shoot, as Dad would say.
I peek over and see Kane up on his feet, gun in hand, ready to go. Let’s hope this works. Hopefully, he’ll get what I’m about to do and understand his role in it.
“You shall be my next trophy and—”
I don’t let Nannot finish. I charge, weapon blazing, intending to blind it. Can you blind stone? Let’s hope you can.
The Nightmare opens its clenched fists, revealing a set of talons that would make a velociraptor weep. Then, it swipes at me, just missing the top of my head. I continue my slide, right between its long legs with ease, still firing. As I exit behind it, my gun runs dry. Not having time to reload, I toss my Glock aside and stand, ready for anything.
It roars in anger and turns to face me. I back up, matching its pace until I reach the stand I was aiming for. I stop and take a non-threatening posture. I prop up my elbow on the large stone slab and whistle a tune. For some reason, the first thing that comes to mind is the theme to The Addams Family. I guess it seems appropriate considering my current setting.
Would Morticia Addams have Rhonar as a pet? Probably. Just for my own amusement, I add in the finger snaps too. I know, I know…I’m an idiot.
But it gets the desired effect out of my opponent. Confusion.
“You know the biggest problem with gloating and monologuing, Nannot? You—”
He—it—or whatever the hell this thing is, roars at my casual use of the name, interrupting me.
I continue, not skipping a beat, “You become unaware of your surroundings and the others in it.”
I flinch as a massive .50 caliber round slams into Rhonar’s face, sending stone and horn flying.
Its head snaps back and screams.
This time I duck as another round hits home, spinning the massive stone monster around.
A shadow passes over my head, getting me to look up. Just as I do, I see Kane land on the giant’s back, trying to hold on for dear life. He must have climbed the stand and jumped off, I think in amazement.
Rhonar tries to toss him, but Kane unsheathes a large knife, digging it into a fold of rock. It keeps him on board, for the time being, for better or worse. He then places his weapon up to the back of the rhino’s skull and pulls the trigger.
Two deafening blasts pound my eardrums, forcing me to cover my ears like the ‘Hear No Evil’ monkey. Through the gong-like ringing now filling my head, I see Rhonar fall, most of its head missing. Destroyed.
But is it dead?
Can they be killed?
Kane dizzily climbs off the now seven-and-a-half foot headless monster and tumbles to the ground, alive, but exhausted.
Nicole goes to him and helps him sit up, checking the welt on his forehead.
I don’t go to Kane. Instead, I go to Rhonar. I now know that it wasn’t it trying to kill us. It was Nannot, which had infiltrated its mind, making it do what he wanted. The pain it suffered was its attempt to deny him and expel the evil.
I kneel down beside the unmoving mass, close my eyes, and pray. I pray for the brute’s forgiveness. Rhonar can finally rest in peace after what could only have been a lifetime of torment. These creatures are not Nightmares—their treatment and slavery is the real nightmare.
I feel a hand on my shoulder and look up through blurry, tear-filled eyes. Kane and Nicole are standing over me. Nicole looks saddened, but Kane just looks confused.
“Um, it did just try to kill us,” he says not understanding my emotions.
I give the fallen creature’s shoulder a final pat, wipe my eyes, and stand, joining the others by a vacant stand. I lift myself up, sitting on the now forever-empty pedestal. While we catch our breath, I retell them what happened, the conversation I just had, Nicole not hearing much of it.
“So, The End, is really an ancient elder named, Na-noot?” Kane asks, looking over to the stone body, eyebrow raised.
“Nannot,” I correct.
“Bless you,” he says, without skipping a beat. “And this person, Nuh-Not,” he carefully enunciates the name, mocking me, “can take over your mind once he’s allowed in, forever supplying him a backdoor, causing pain and suffering that could cripple the average man.” He takes a breath. “Sound about right?”
I nod.
“Well then,” he says, reloading his gun again, smiling. “We’re just going to have to fix that, aren’t we?”
34
After retrieving my gun, we head deeper into the patio of pain, as Kane has come to call it, continuing our search for Omar and my father. If this were any other ancient palace’s courtyard, it would’ve been a beautiful sight.
The manicured grass—yes, I said grass—is precisely cut and well…grey. I bend down and run my hand through it, feeling its soft texture. It reminds me of the lawn you’d find up north in Michigan, or maybe on a local golf course.
The rest of the grounds are decorated with more statues, but these haven’t come to life…yet. Upon closer inspection, these particular effigies are fully human in design and ring around the outer perimeter of the clearing. I step up to the closest one, inspecting it. There’s a nameplate attached to the front of the sculptures stand, identifying the person immortalized there. Unfortunately for us, it’s in a language none of us can understand. We inspect a few more of the statues and find the same thing. The one constant is that they are wearing what looks like different types of crowns. It seems this was some sort of mausoleum to the kings of old, the ancient rulers of this land.
“Come on guys, let’s go,” I say, waving them on.
We continue on our quest, towards the foreboding black pyramid. Thankfully, we only get interrupted one more time, too. Fortunately, she wasn’t as tough as Rhonar was.
The second Nightmare was another humanoid, this one mixed with a snake—a cobra to be exact. Her body was pure Homo sapien except covered in stone scales, sort of looking like Mystique from the X-Men series. Only this one wasn’t nearly as head-turning as the movies portrayed her to be, probably because this was real and not some expensive Halloween costume filled with the body of a supermodel. Body aside… The woman’s head was something else altogether.
First off, she sported a four-foot-long neck that fanned out like a cobra’s. Secondly, the she-snake also had a set of nasty fangs embedded in her fully human face. They came complete with some type of venom or other form of crippling toxin too. The human quality threw us off a little…until she tried to bite me.
Avoiding the spitting cobra’s assault was easy enough. We just kept out of striking distance and attacked from a distance, focusing on her neck. I’m not exactly thrilled that we’ve now decapitated two heads in the last thirty minutes, but as Kane would explain, “They stay dead with no head.”
Nicole tried to comfort me, knowing that the slaying of the two beasts bothered me. She did her best to summarize that we severed the connection to Nannot and released the suffering victim from his grasp. She then went on to add that each one of these things is filled with the same pain and anguish as Rhonar was, and at least we can do some good by liberating them from their physical bondage and psychological torture.
I appreciate the effort, but I’m not listening to a word she says. Yes, I’m pissed off, but mostly I’m just looking for my father.
We cautiously make our way down the boulevard, maybe another two hundred yards from the wrought-iron gate I saw in my actual nightmare. Kane is in the lead with Nicole and me bringing up the rear. We scan every nook and cranny before advancing to the next section of pillars and pedestals. Not getting ambushed by a pack of these things would be nice.
