BIRTHRIGHT - B01:C04 - HALO - DRAFT (Patreon)

Raymond

As I eyed the keys casually resting on the dashboard, I fought the urge to groan. They were in plain sight, mocking my earlier resolve to hotwire this relic of automotive history. The car’s interior screamed “work in progress,” with Mr. Jefferson evidently yet to tackle the upholstery. The driver’s seat stood solitary, its comrades banished to the elements outside, the once-luxurious leather now torn and weather-beaten, a lone spring peeking out in a silent plea for restoration.

Shaking my head at the neglect, I took a steadying breath and inserted the key into the ignition, my hand betraying a slight tremor. It was a moment of reckoning, a brief pause to steel my resolve.

“Second thoughts?” Zoe’s voice broke the silence, tinged with reason and caution. “If it makes any difference, I think we should stay here at the house. The solar storm will pass, and everything will return to normal. There’s no need to break the law and steal this... ugly vehicle.”

“Ugly?” The word caught in my throat. “This car is a treasure. A 1969 Dodge Daytona, the very race car that reigned supreme in its heyday. I may not be an oldy enthusiast like dad, but even I know its value and the sheer cool factor it represents,” I defended with unexpected passion. “Besides,” I added, collecting my thoughts, “this is no ordinary solar storm, Zoe. There are monsters out there—real, nightmare-inducing creatures.”

“He’s right,” Mara chimed in, her voice carrying a mix of fear and fascination. “There was this... lizard lion thing with antlers that attacked someone right in their front yard. I saw it,” she confessed, a shiver running through her words.

Zoe, perched atop a duffle bag in lieu of the absent passenger seat, twisted around to catch Mara’s gaze, seeking validation.

“She’s right, I saw it too,” I admitted, the recollection of the man’s brutal attack leaving a somber tone in my voice. “And that wyvern you thought was a mirage... it was real, not an illusion caused by the aurora,” I added, the seriousness of our situation becoming increasingly apparent. “We need to get out of here.”

Zoe’s head swiveled back and forth between Mara and me in disbelief. “Are you referring to the dragon-like hallucinations? This is all insane. Are you two actually listening to yourselves?” she challenged. “So, you’re telling me, assuming what you both saw is true, your grand plan is to steal this car and make a break for it in the middle of the night, hoping these... monsters don’t spot us?”

“I’d like to see them try to catch us,” I responded with a forced snicker, trying to inject some bravado into the situation, only to be met with Zoe’s unamused stare. “Look, it’s the best plan we’ve got,” I sighed, resigning myself to the stark choices before us.

“He’s right,” Mara supported me unexpectedly, leaving me momentarily taken aback. It was rare for her to take my side.

“I think this is idiotic, but fine,” Zoe conceded, her arms crossed, her posture radiating reluctance and skepticism.

Encouraged by their agreement, albeit grudging from Zoe, I offered a nervous smile and turned the ignition key. Instantly, the car sprang to life, its engine growling with a fierce intensity befitting the beast it was designed to mimic. Our hasty departure was nearly thwarted by Mr. Jefferson, who, in a state of disarray wearing only a bathrobe and boxers, burst through the back door, shotgun in hand, shouting indistinctly—his words lost beneath the car’s thunderous roar.

Driven by a mix of panic and adrenaline, I floored the accelerator. Zoe, caught off guard, tumbled backward over her duffle bag as I hastily adjusted my position behind the wheel. Mara, on the other hand, couldn’t contain her amusement, letting out a spontaneous yip of laughter. The car’s tires screeched in protest as we bolted forward, crashing through the fence and into the uncertain safety of the open road, leaving chaos in our wake.

As Mr. Jefferson took aim and fired at us, I reacted quickly, jerking the steering wheel to the right. This sudden maneuver caused my sisters to be jostled around in their makeshift seats. Instinctively, I ducked, glimpsing sparks scattering off the car’s massive spoiler from the shot. Determined not to be a stationary target for another shot, I pressed the pedal to the floor, accelerating rapidly away from the threat.

Zoe, fueled by both panic and determination, slapped the dashboard and pushed herself upright, only to be confronted by a sight that made her heart leap into her throat. Directly in our path stood a creature as large as a Clydesdale horse, its presence commanding and otherworldly. It bore a striking resemblance to a Qilin—or was it Kirin? The exact name escaped me in the moment, but it closely mirrored the mythical beast Keneu faced off against in that samurai movie. This had been the same creature responsible for the earlier attack on our neighbor.

“What’s that?” Zoe managed to utter, her voice laced with disbelief and shock.

“Hold on,” I said, my voice tense, as I executed a swift maneuver to avoid an abandoned car blocking our path.

In that heart-stopping moment, relief washed over me as I saw the monstrous creature suddenly take off in the opposite direction. It appeared that the roar and might of the muscle car had struck fear into the beast, prompting it to flee from us. Overwhelmed with excitement, I repeatedly slammed my hand against the roof of the car.

“Are you going to turn on the headlights?” Mara asked from the back seat, her voice tinged with concern.

“Hell no,” I responded instantly. “With the power outage, we’d be too visible, and I don’t want that wyvern we saw earlier to spot us,” I elaborated. “Plus, the aurora is providing enough light for me to see the road clearly.”

“Let’s hope nothing chases us,” Mara voiced from the back, her comment laced with a mix of hope and anxiety.

Reacting to her words, I instinctively knocked on the dashboard twice. “Don’t jinx us like that,” I cautioned, half-serious, half-trying to ward off any bad luck her words might invite.

Gratitude washed over me as we continued our escape unchallenged. I couldn’t help but think that the muscle car’s deep, growling engine served as a deterrent, much like loudly announcing one’s presence to bears in the forest. The freeway was reached with surprising ease, and to my relief, it seemed that others had moved their vehicles to the roadside, likely hoping to retrieve them once the aurora’s effects subsided.

On the freeway, an unusual convoy caught our attention: around twenty vintage cars, their models dating from the sixties and earlier, with a few from the fifties and, notably, an old Model T among them, all heading away from town. Modern vehicles were conspicuously absent, except for motorcycles, four-wheelers, and even a go-kart. It seemed the solar storm, or whatever this phenomenon was, rendered anything with sophisticated electronics inoperable. At least, that was my initial impression.

Around thirty minutes into our journey on the freeway, as we ventured a bit into Idaho, we noticed the military starting to mobilize. Their presence was becoming increasingly noticeable, with even helicopters circling overhead, seemingly in the process of establishing a checkpoint or perimeter. Despite the growing military activity, they didn’t stop us, which was a relief.

Suddenly, Mara exclaimed with a burst of excitement, “Hey! My phone’s working!”

“Seriously?” Zoe reacted with surprise, quickly twisting around to see. She then reached into her pocket, pulling out her own phone.

After a few seconds of booting up, both phones illuminated the interior of our vehicle, offering a stark contrast to the darkening skies outside. As I kept driving, we passed by the assembled military forces, putting as much distance as possible between us and the nightmarish scenario we were leaving behind.

“The news is saying these events are happening worldwide,” Zoe relayed, her eyes scanning an article on her now-functioning phone. “They’re unsure if portals are opening or if creatures are just emerging from the aurora, but it looks like most technology fails to work within these affected areas,” she explained, summarizing the key points for me. “There are three known locations in the US where this is happening: Spokane, a remote area in Texas, and Portland.”

“Portland,” I echoed, my mind racing.

“Umm, Portland Maine, not Oregon,” Zoe clarified.

“The aurora is worldwide, so why are these events localized?” I pondered aloud, perplexed by the specificity of the incidents.

Zoe, her attention fixed on her phone, scrolled through for more information before replying, “They’re not sure, but it seems all the affected locations have a significant concentration of crystals. The president has issued an order for the military to intervene and destroy them.”

Dr. Herman

“You alright, Doc?” the lieutenant called out over the plane’s engine hum as he approached to check my harness straps, giving them a firm tug that jerked me slightly.

I nodded nervously, then asked, “T-This is safe, right?”

“Hell, no,” the lieutenant chuckled reassuringly. “Just stick to the training you’ve received, and you’ll be fine,” he assured me, playfully slapping my helmet.

After completing his checks, the lieutenant positioned himself in the center of the plane’s bay, surveying the special forces lining up against the walls. He tapped something at his throat, and suddenly, his voice was amplified through the speaker in my helmet, audible to everyone.

“Alright, listen up. We’re about to execute a high-altitude low opening (HALO) jump directly over an event zone. We’re cruising at thirty-five thousand feet, just above a layer where all technology seems to malfunction,” he paused to look at everyone before continuing. “Our mission is to penetrate the epicenter, locate and destroy the cluster of crystals. It’s unclear if this will neutralize the anomaly or if the creatures will vanish once the crystals are destroyed. That’s why we’ve brought an expert to examine them.

“Your objectives are to demolish the crystals, eliminate any threats, and ensure the doctor’s safety so he can study the zone. Be warned, the entities we’re facing have exceptionally resilient hides, impervious to standard ammunition. The pea shooters you’re carrying won’t cut it, which is why you’ve been upgraded to fifty caliber weapons. Those are packed in the supply crate,” he indicated the crate near the exit, “which will drop with us,” he paused once again, staring into the eyes of everyone aboard. “Remember, we’re not just in some far-off battle this time; we’re defending our turf, our folks, our very right to exist. Let’s give them hell!”

I flinched when everyone yelled, “Hooah,” in unison, right after the lieutenant concluded his briefing. The powerful chorus of affirmation was immediately followed by the opening of the aircraft’s rear door. Realizing I was slightly behind in my preparations, I hastily checked to ensure my helmet and oxygen mask were securely in place. The lieutenant had already made sure of this, but the last-minute jitters made me double-check everything as the reality of the impending jump set in.

As the crate was abruptly yanked from the back of the plane, followed by several soldiers leaping out in rapid succession, my anxiety peaked. This was far from my element. My expertise as an astrophysicist, with a solid foundation in nuclear radiation, was supposed to lead me towards a career at NASA, exploring the universe’s background radiation. Instead, I found myself scooped up by the Pentagon for reasons beyond my understanding. Had I inadvertently crossed a general or a senator? Whatever the reason, it was clear I was not cut out for a mission like this, let alone performing a high-altitude jump from a plane.

A soldier beside me hooked his arm through mine, pulling me along as if following strict orders. My gaze flickered to the lieutenant, who offered a reassuring nod just before I was unceremoniously propelled out of the plane. In hindsight, their forceful intervention was probably necessary; left to my own devices, I likely would have hesitated too long.

The moment my feet left the plane, a heart-stopping sense of freefall engulfed me as gravity claimed its due. Floating in the void of night, the world around me was eerily illuminated by the dancing lights of the aurora, casting an otherworldly glow on everything. Amidst this spectral beauty, a shadow moved against the backdrop of light, ascending as I descended. Narrowing my eyes, the flapping of wings became discernible, a sight so bizarre and unexpected it barely registered before a more immediate danger caught my attention—a monstrous maw opening, viciously snapping at the soldiers ahead of me.

As the creature soared upward with terrifying speed, I instinctively curled into a ball, narrowly avoiding its path. Its passage sent me spiraling out of control, a puppet to the whims of the wind. In my tumultuous descent, I caught a glimpse of the monster reaching the plane. It collided with a catastrophic force, sending fire and debris exploding into the night sky.

Tumbling through the air, the roar of my heartbeat thundered in my ears, mingled with the rush of wind that howled around me. Moisture fogged the lens of my helmet, blurring my vision, as I continued to plummet at an alarming rate, alone with my racing thoughts and the unforgiving embrace of gravity.

After what felt like an eternity, my chaotic spiral finally stabilized. In a frantic rush, I lifted my wrist towards my helmet to check the analog altitude meter, eagerly waiting for it to hit four thousand feet. To my sheer horror, I realized I had already plummeted well past that critical altitude. Panicked, I yanked the cord hard. The parachute burst forth, and I was abruptly jerked back by the force of its deployment.

As my head frantically swiveled, I scanned the skies for any sign of the special forces team members with whom I had made the jump. But there was no time for a thorough search; the ground—or more accurately, a roof—was rapidly approaching. I braced for impact and hit the concrete roof with such force that I immediately felt a sharp pain in my leg, signaling it had snapped. My momentum carried me across the roof and directly into a parked car, the collision wringing a groan of pain from me.

Lying there, I gazed up at the sky, the aurora casting a surreal pink and blue glow over everything. A profound sense of isolation and dread enveloped me as I absorbed the gravity of my situation.

Groaning again, I took a moment to assess my surroundings and realized I had crash-landed on the roof of a parking structure. The pain was intense, and the realization of my solitary state under the mesmerizing but indifferent lights of the aurora only deepened my sense of vulnerability.

Korban

Awakened by the sound of something crashing outside, I grimaced in pain. My ribs throbbed, a stark reminder of the encounter with that troll—or whatever that creature was—that likely left me with a few broken ribs. I slowly rose from the bench in the empty armory where I had passed out, the desire to simply lie back down and surrender to the pain was overwhelming. Yet, driven by an uncertain sense of urgency, I forced myself to keep moving, unsure of how much time had elapsed since I found refuge here.

With utmost caution and my MP5 gripped tightly in my hands—frustratingly, my Glock was nowhere to be found, a loss that irked me as I had grown quite fond of that gun—I edged towards a nearby window. My heart raced at the thought of encountering that bizarre alligator-giraffe beast again, lurking somewhere outside.

Peering down from my elevated position, my eyes landed on a large crate on the ground, its side broken open, revealing several firearms and bullets scattered around it. Whether it was fate or mere coincidence, I couldn’t say, but in that moment, I chose not to question this unexpected boon. Instead, I prepared to make my way down, determined to better arm myself.

As I cautiously made my way out of the building, my mind was overrun with concern for my children. Each step was measured, every corner meticulously checked—their safety was a pressing burden on my heart, fueling my determination to return to them. Miraculously, my route to the weapons and ammunition-laden crate was clear of any lurking monstrosities. The omnipresent aurora, painting the sky with its otherworldly luminescence, rendered time ambiguous. Was it the dead of night, or had dawn already begun to break? Such distinctions were lost beneath the surreal glow of the aurora, leaving me adrift in a timeless haze. My immediate goal was clear, though: to arm myself with the necessary tools for protection, driven by the fervent hope of reuniting with my family.

The absurdity of the situation struck me, and I couldn’t help but start laughing as I picked up a fifty-caliber sniper rifle, nearly dropping it as laughter and pain jostled for control, reminding me of my aching ribs. My amusement was cut short by the sound of gunfire, alarmingly close, as if just on the other side of the precinct. The proximity of the sound, despite my discomfort, spurred me into action. Grimacing through the pain, I hurriedly scavenged for ammunition, grabbing as many magazines as I could carry and swiftly loading the rifle, readying myself for what was to come.

As I readied myself, the first sight that greeted me was four soldiers rounding the corner at a full sprint. Two of them glanced back momentarily to unleash a barrage of gunfire at an unseen pursuer, before quickly resuming their desperate dash in my direction. I steadied the rifle atop the crate, aiming towards the chaos, bracing for whatever was driving their frantic escape.

Suddenly, a large, alligator-shaped head emerged around the corner, its jaws clamping down on one of the soldiers. His screams were abruptly silenced as the rest of the creature’s massive body came into view, confirming it was the same monstrous entity that had pursued me earlier and feasted on the troll I had killed. Without allowing myself a moment to hesitate, I took a quick, somewhat erratic aim and fired at the beast, driven by a mix of fear and determination to stop it in its tracks.

My initial shots missed the dinosaur-like creature, harmlessly sailing past it. However, my persistence paid off when my fifth attempt struck true while it feasted on the fallen soldier. The impact caused the monster to stagger, a vivid spray of blood marking the wound. Its meal interrupted, the beast unleashed a ferocious roar, then turned its menacing gaze toward me and charged.

I kept firing, determination fueling my actions as I aimed and shot repeatedly. Each bullet found its mark, and after emptying my magazine into the behemoth, it finally stumbled and collapsed, though it still showed signs of life, struggling to rise.

Quickly, I ejected the spent magazine, loaded a fresh one with practiced urgency, and cocked the rifle once more. With the creature now alarmingly close, barely ten feet away, I took careful aim at its head. The final shot echoed loudly, the recoil jarring against my already numb shoulder. The bullet flew true, directly impaling the creature’s skull and bringing its final charge to a deadly halt. The monster lay still, its threat permanently neutralized by the precise shot.

“Thanks for that,” one of the soldiers huffed out, clearly relieved, as he approached the crate. Without wasting any more time, he tossed his assault rifle and began to hurriedly dig through it, pulling out large caliber weapons and ammunition.

“Do you know what’s going on?” I inquired, hoping for some insight into the chaos.

“Not much,” one of the soldiers replied as he continued to arm himself. “Technological blackout zones are popping up worldwide, each with a twenty-five-mile radius from the epicenter. Our mission is to scout for a crystal formation; the theory is that destroying it might restore the lights, and with any luck, put an end to this... monster invasion.”

“You haven’t seen anything like that?” another soldier inquired, his tone mixed with hope and urgency.

I nodded affirmatively. “The smokestacks across the river have some blue and pink crystals growing on them,” I answered, recalling the peculiar sight that might just be what they were searching for.

“Anyone have eyes on where the Doc landed?” a soldier called out, concern lacing his voice as he surveyed the chaos around them.

“I saw his chute open on the other side of the river,” one of them responded, pointing in the general direction where they had observed the descent.

“Great, load up and we’ll secure the Doc and head to the smokestacks,” the first soldier decided.

“Well, if you guys don’t mind, I’m taking this,” I announced, lifting the rifle for them to see. They exchanged quick glances among themselves before collectively shrugging in unison.

A menacing growl abruptly seized our attention, prompting us all to pivot towards the source. Several creatures emerged, rounding the corner with noses lifted to the air. They resembled enormous wolves, but a bizarre twist caught our eyes—atop their backs rode green, goblin-like beings. Without a moment’s hesitation, I lifted my rifle and fired. The soldiers beside me did the same, a unified front of gunfire aimed at the oncoming threat. Despite our concentrated efforts, these creatures, with their riders, maneuvered with surprising agility, effortlessly dodging our onslaught.

“Shit, fall back,” barked one of the soldiers.

As we made our strategic retreat, the creatures, along with their goblin riders, vanished as suddenly as they had appeared, blending back into the shadows from whence they came.

“Fuck, anyone got eyes on them?” I called out, scanning the area with vigilant eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of where they might have retreated to.

“We need to get across the river, to the Doc and those crystals,” stated another soldier, urgency clear in his voice as he quickly formulated a plan of action. “Donalds, you’ve got the explosives?”

“Hell yeah, just get me there and I’ll bring it down,” Donalds responded.

“Alright, let’s move,” declared the apparent leader of our small band, signaling it was time to advance.

Despite my pressing desire to return to my car parked in the garage—and more importantly, to my kids—the idea of separating from the three remaining soldiers, who had just confronted otherworldly threats alongside me, seemed ill-advised. With a heavy sigh that caused my ribs pain, I proceeded with them, maintaining a vigilant watch for those creatures.