Arc 3 - Chapter 19: Zirardgre Ranch II

“What the…”

She stumbled back from the tidal wave.

Laying on the ground, she raised both of her hands up to her face, as the bleach splashed upon her clothes. Her face growing sunburnt, some of the liquid trickled her lips and nose; but not her eyes.

Chris watched the wave unfold, as the liquid swished against his boots. Even Benn took a step back, his eyes springing into action once his blessing lifted away. His face tainted with sweat, his legs felt like they were asleep, as the thousands of needles prickled his calves.

‘I was lucky to find a wasp nest. Controlling the queen, who commanded the swarm, was a hundred times more exhausting than commanding the workers.’

Both of his knuckles buckled, as the smell of burning garlic grew worse. Seeing that Chris and Luna were intact, he took note of the feminine figure who stared at the sky. She dripped bleach from the end of her fingers, her stature imposing.

“I think I’m ready for round 2…”

No wasp stings were seen.

As if she had never been stung in the first place, her soft porcelain skin glowed under the night sky. Extending her arms out, gunshots ravaged the air toward the east. Her hair flowing in the wind, she then finally turned toward Benn…

“Yuck.”

She spat instantly, and rubbed the ground at the same spot. Using the tip of her boot, it pushed Benn to take a step forward. Glaring his eyes on her, everything about her screamed of hate, screamed of loving venom.

Endless bleach escaped through her fingers, and she hunched her back. Like watering the crops with a hose, it soon ceased, leaving the bleach to craft and form. And within her right palm … a javelin began to take shape.

“After I’m done with you, you’d better wish you were dead.”

—“And after I’m done with you, you’d better wish you kept your mouth shut.”—

Vivy arched her whole back 90 degrees, and felt the top of her hair be grazed against. Twirling her body, she encapsulated her eyes into the tanned swordswoman. Jumping back, Vivy allowed her boots to scrape against the soil, as she avoided another slash.

Wielding her javelin made out of bleach, she tightened the handle and lowered herself in an arched position. Extending her right arm, she narrowly blocked the blade from entering her stomach, with the blade and javelin making contact—

Bleach burst onto her face.

‘Huh?’

Leaping back two to three feet, she glided through the crops and soil with botched pink boots. Her eyes straining red, the smell of the fumes only worsened her frustration. Feeling her scleras sizzling against the liquid, she tightened her chest as the pain grew.

‘Shit shit shit! I could barely see!’

Luna took a wobbly step back, as she barely traced the outline of something flying at her. Vanishing within the hot wind, she teleported in back of her, her footing and sight completely loosened.

And spectating with quivering eyes, was none other than Chris. Standing with a straightened back, his knees quaked the longer he saw Luna fought. Both of his hands shaking, the pistol he held creaked, as he couldn’t bring the barrel to face Vivy.

‘I can’t do it … this is too much …’

His breath out of place, he saw Vivy throw a javelin straight toward Luna. With Luna vanishing at the last second, the women’s battle continued to grow.

‘If I shoot her, she’ll attack me instead. She’s … she’s too powerful.’

Puckering his lips into a frown, he only tightened the hold on his pistol. His lungs empty and full like an air pump, he kept his finger on the side of the gun. Feeling the whole world grow black, the light that surrounded him, including the flames, only—

Someone grabbed his wrist.

As if a small current of electricity sizzled his body, he turned toward the person who dug into his bone. Upon his right shoulder, silence was all he could say.

“Once we get back, you’re going to be on chicken duty for a week.”

‘Christian…’

From out of the clouds shadows, a single shark-human tread the crops below. Walking toward them with silence, his whole face was ghostly pale, and sweat sweltered his neck and chest. The two brothers turned to look at Benn, who could barely keep his feet straight.

“You look like shit. Pushing yourself to the limits isn’t very good, Sharky.”

“Caffeine … any of you … can you lend me a caffeine bean.”

“H-Here.”

Pushing his hand into his jacket’s pocket, it didn’t take long before he felt a box with his fingers. Taking it out, he opened the lid, leaving one large bean to glimmer in the night. Dropping the box toward the crops…

A hand tightened on his shoulder. Chris didn’t bother to look back, as he felt his fingers relax, rather than dig.

“That’s our last sample.”

“But he needs it more than me.”

“That shark-human has a medic in his group. He could wait until—”

Chris shrugged off his brother’s hand.

Tightening his hold on the caffeine bean, he stomped his way toward Benn. His body slightly trembling, he soon knelt down, and gave him the small bean that sparkled. All the while Christian furrowed his brow.

“Hey Christian … Why do you dislike shark-humans?”

Christian didn’t mutter a word, as the warm wind dried his wrinkled lips. Seeing Chris slowly rise up, Benn still settled on the ground, with the crops rustling against his burly shoulders.

“Because an idiot like me cannot understand the hate. Are they dangerous? Are they smelly? I just can’t find the answer…”

He felt like the weight of his body was on his shoulders. Trying to sink him down to the dirt, to the crops, he couldn’t look at Chris even if he tried. In fact, his eyes pinned on a random garlic crop, one that was healthy and blooming even in the chaos surrounding them.

“So tell me why. You have the answers … right?”

All of his hands went numb.

He finally raised his head not at Chris, but at Benn. Looking like he was recovering, a small exhale of air bristled his nose. Grayish-blue skin, pale skin, tan skin, dark skin, fur, brown fur, black fur—

“Let’s just get out of here…”

Back to Luna…

By the skin of her teeth, she narrowed her eyes the most she ever did. Getting rid of her blurred state, all it took was for her scleras to strain red.

Bleach sizzled her clothes, her skin, and even the blades she carried. With fumes ever so distilled, she couldn’t cough or sneeze, as the toxicity shivered her throat.

Her leaps turned into teleportations, she dodged many javelins that flew by her. Fertilizers molesting her pink boots, as well as her jacket and pants, bleach and dirt cradled them like glue. Most of her blades being rusted, all of the chemicals and past attacks … were ramping her arms and shoulders.

But that didn’t stop Vivy, who had within her right hand javelin after javelin. Throwing them like they were rocks, her endless supply of bleach only worsened Luna’s frustration.

“Keep still you bitch!”

“Make me!”

Throwing yet another javelin, it flew right past Luna, but exploded a meter from in back. Luna instantly teleported, her sole direction being behind Vivy.

Thrusting both of her arms back, she propelled them at the nape of her neck. Her blades unwilling to sparkle, to even shine, Vivy twirled her body around to face the swordswoman. And she used her bleach-javelin like a shield.

“My whore now!”

Vivy pulled back her left hand, as the tips of her fingers salted in liquid. Crafting it, molding it, it took the shape and form of the same javelin she was blocking with. Letting a devilish grin creep in, her eyes slanted sideways, leaving wrinkles to scatter her cheeks and temples.

“So long—”

—Something grappled her nape.—

Feeling eyes in back of her, Vivy froze her whole body like she was in ice. Luna glanced at the young woman, her hair black and in the style of a bob-cut. Having dark-skin, average height, she wore a thick jacket and khaki pants.

While liquid dribbled down Vivy’s neck.

‘Pacifica?’

Pacifica’s palm sizzled and steamed, making Vivy’s skin rash and burn. Making her clench her eyes, the only thing Pacifica did was narrow her eyes.

“Girl. You ain’t the only one who controls liquids.”

________________________________________________________________________

(Reverence 3, 59 / 12:15AM)

Gunfire grazed their ears.

With only the bluish shield giving them cover, the three of them heard the bullets whistle. Miles had his hands on the center shield, with sweat rolling down his cheeks. Luke, who was near Miles’ shoulder, felt his hair rise from every gunshot.

—Miles is starting to grow pale…

The guards continued to rain metal, as their carbines and thompsons burned their barrels. These were humans they’re facing. Taking position behind trees, behind the edge of buildings, they laid down covering fire for their own brethren.

Luke could only blindfire, as his uzis sprayed in bursts. Even Hope failed to aim, as she blindfired the same way as Luke.

‘I’m down to my last magazine…’ thought Hope.

All the while the fields continued to burn. Because a cloud began to form on top of them, Luke’s plan for a distraction already backfired. Jack, who squinted his right eye into the scope, could barely trace out Luke’s position.

‘Shit. Can’t see shit.’

And laying beside a wooden wall, was none other than the leader of the Zirardges. The middle-aged man, who continued to bleed through an open wound, hissed out through his lips. His face ghostly pale, he coughed out blood, which littered down from the corners of his lips.

“They’re just only three! Push forward!” Yelled at one of the guards.

The fiery inferno only raged, but not toward the gravel road. Luke and Hope felt the strain upon their shoulders, but Miles felt it trample down into his soul.

—We can’t hold this position forever … and it wasn’t long when Sean left us here…

Luke clicked his trigger on the uzi, and heard the chamber unleash an empty click. Feeling it empty, he began to push in another batch of bullets into the mag. Unlocking it … it didn’t take long before his back hair rose.

Hope felt the chamber of her pistol go empty, as no burning barrel recoiled her arm. Stunned, she didn’t even bother to push her hand into her pocket—

They felt the ground rumble.

Even Miles perked his head, and Luke and Hope turned toward the South. Holding their breaths, the fog of smoke and dust only doubled their anxiety; but it also put a stall to the soldiers’ charge.

“What… is …”

Beyond the fog, was an outline.

—A battalion of green donkeys bursted through the smoke.—

And riding those green donkeys were men and women in matching uniforms. Wielding thompsons with their primary hands, their other hand grappled the reigns. All of them hunching their heads forward, the leader of the group … was a woman with dark purple hair.

Her hair swaying in the wind, all of her eyes narrowed like a warrior born under a new moon. Raising her right hand high, she didn’t carry any gun or rifle… but only a fist that cued their endeavor.

“CHARGE!!”

And in unison, the men and women who rode with her, roared through deafening bullets.

Every guard that tried to make a push, found themselves retreating back. Their rifles snuggled in their arms, they didn’t dare look back as fear took hold. Creating a fog of dust, its obscurity only grew the longer the ground rumbled from beneath their hooves. With the Pacithiest group charging forth, only one donkey led astray from the group.

Galloping toward the Dark Angels, Iris’s donkey hovered to the left of Miles’ shield. Setting foot on the gravel beneath her, she walked toward Luke.

“What is the situation?”

“Sean is inside the house. Me, Hope, and Miles were doing our best to hold them off.”

“But I suppose you’ve bitten off more than you could chew. The results are as follows.”

His grip on his uzis weakened, and he laid the magazines on the gravel before nodding.

The rest of the Pacthiests began to unbuckled their guns, making their barrels boom. Instead of aiming at lethal spots, they either shot the guards at non-fatal areas, or right at their feet.

Luke furrowed his brow, once a slow thought began to emerge.

“Wait a minute … I thought you guys didn’t want any part of this?”

“Then explain why one of our men went on his own with you. Because of his status as a Pacithiest, we have an obligation to help our brethren.”

“Well, he’s on the southern side of the ranch. If you want to—”

“There’s no need. I’ve sent some troops to that location already. Consider yourselves lucky that we came just in time.”

Iris didn’t smile, as her frown continued to wrinkle her cheeks. From her temples up to her forehead, it was clear that she didn’t age well for a woman in her early 40s.

Luke turned around to view the chaos, as small traces of blood lingered on the gravel. Looking like the fighting worsened, it only pushed Luke to cough dryly from his throat, as bullets and gunsmoke flourished greatly.

—How can one decoy strategy result in this …

The Pacithiests continued to ride, even when they hid in bushes or inside buildings. Some stables being their little shelters, it was clear that the guards were outplayed. Unwilling to take on the green donkey riders … someone walked the opposite direction.

“Oh Doug … you need better guards.”

It was a woman, a woman who looked to be barely 50. Having short hair that trickled her ears, the color was blonde, but white shaded the ends. Wearing a black summer dress, the end of the fabric reached the bottom of her knees, while her arms were laid bare.

But she wore boots, the same ones as the guards.

Extending out both of her hands, and both her legs, her palms were sagged with wrinkles. And yet, she closed her eyes, all the while the Pacithiests that rode … turned their eyes at her palms.

—“Unsight.”—

Just as they would trample through her … they continued to ride. But there was something amiss, and it was only until they all perked their heads up.

“Huh?!”

“Fuck I’m blind!”

“Everyone! Anyone!? Did someone turn off the lights!?”

“C-Crap!”

They couldn’t stop, even when they glanced in all directions. And yet, it was as if they were like headless chickens.

All left in the horrid dark, it wasn’t long before they jumped out of their donkeys. All rolling through the gravel road, they didn’t raise up their hands, as they played dead like a possum underneath a flashlight. Because they were all blinded, it left Luke, Hope, Miles, and Iris to widen their eyes upon her power.

Before pushing their heads back into cover.

—What did she just do? Did she take their sight away?

“Fenix. Whatever you do, don’t look in her direction.”

She continued to walk through the gravel road, as pebbles and loose rocks rumbled the ground. Having a soft kick to her step, it was clear that she was playing with them, mentally.

Miles only continued to pale his face, as the shield gave them cover … flickered intensely. Trying so hard to keep hold of cover, he pushed down on all his teeth, and—

—The sounds of a trench gun can be heard.—

Like a tidal wave, it swept through the embers and smoke, and especially their ears. Stunned, they all turned toward Miles…

“AH!!”

Dropping the cover nearly instantly, he pulled back his arms and toward his shoulder. Pushing them there, he curled himself like a ball, and gasped out air.

“Miles!”

Hope immediately went toward him, her eyes all too focused on him. Luke and Iris gasped, as they shielded their eyes amidst the gunshot. But it was only Iris who did. Luke lunged toward Miles, even at the cost of—

Hope saw darkness, and so did Luke.

Even when she tended to Miles’ shoulder, even when she felt something warm trickle her fingers, she couldn’t see. Only darkness. Only black. She breathed heavily through a sweatized face.

“I … I can’t see!”

—Oh no…

Luke stood frozen like a popsicle in an icebox. Knowing Miles was right beside him, all of his soul blared in demonic begging. Being left in the dark, in the void of absolute abyss, it was like he forgot what it was like to—

He heard a buckshot.