An Untitled Novel

Even with the ringing in his ears he could hear the engine in his truck roar as it began to move. A fountain of dirt was kicked up behind him and he felt every bump and vibration as he departed. What began as a crawl of wheels spinning in dirt began to turn into a high-speed dash towards the attackers. The speedometer climbed and the engine continued to get louder for a short time. Suddenly, however, even though the speedometer kept going up, the motor seemed to get quieter and he began to feel as if he was hovering rather than driving. His vision began to narrow, and as his speed continued to increase he felt as if he was a rocket traveling in the direction of the attackers.

The attackers now seemed to be aware of him traveling towards them at a still increasing speed. They all began to move some sort of object in front of them as if they were building some sort of wall. As he continued to approach some seemed to break away, but another behind them turned its head, causing the fleeing ones to return to their position with their objects that made a wall. As he continued to approach them the being behind those making the wall fled.

Shields! They were holding shields. But who, and why? Were they special shields? Could they stop the truck?

Basil was getting closer and could suddenly make out more details. One of the beings looked familiar. He was one of the Lizard King’s men! Basil could recognize him as someone who had accompanied them as they escorted the Lizard King out of the city. Hold on, they were all the Lizard King’s men! Basil was snapped out of the trance he was in and slammed on the brakes. He was suddenly thrown forward as the truck began to slow down as it skated across the dirt on unspinning tires, but not before watching the wall of shields grow closer and closer. A moment later the prior loss of velocity was dwarfed as he crashed through the wall of shields and came to a stop.

The shock of the impact disorientated Basil. He looked at his windshield, now cracked and splattered with blood. Grabbing hold of his rifle and fumbling for the door, he stepped out to see those who had attempted to stop his truck with shields decimated and those surrounding their fellow soldiers wide-eyed and unsure of what to do. After some time, mere seconds but feeling like an eternity to Basil, one soldier charged at Basil holding a large shiny object - prompting others to do the same. Basil shouldered his rifle and attempted to speak, but no words came out.

The rifle fired a silent stream of automatic gunfire. Each shot felt as if somebody had kicked him in the shoulder, and he struggled to keep it pointed even vaguely in the direction that he intended to keep it. Only a few shots had been fired and Basil had already lost all control of the weapon, but the wide spread of bullets pointed at the tight charging formation annihilated the group, almost all of them dropping to the ground injured or dead. Such a display of an alien weapon, as well as the distant fire of the Redcap soldiers, caused the Lizard King’s soldiers to erupt into chaos. Basil, mind clouded by shock and adrenaline, continued to fire; striking charging, frozen, and fleeing soldiers alike.

Suddenly Basil regained control of the weapon. Moments passed - again mere seconds but feeling like an eternity to Basil - and he realized the reason was that the rifle had stopped firing. Basil stood there, unsure of what to do, until his clouded mind surmised that he had likely run out of ammo. Thinking back to how the weapon operated, he ran his hand across the side of it until he felt a button and pressed the magazine release, watching the drum magazine drop to the ground. Basil fumbled with his pockets quickly before remembering that his other magazines were in his truck, finally looking up from the dropped magazine on the ground intending to grab another.

Upon looking up, however, he saw a lone soldier sprinting towards him, raising a long silver object which had a tip that reached higher than Basil’s head. He instinctively raised his left arm and the rifle to block it, the object bouncing off both as if it were made of rubber, but Basil nearly dropped the rifle in the process. The soldier moved his arms back again as if to take another swing, but Basil gripped the nearly dropped rifle by the barrel and brought it down on the hands of the attacker like a club. The much larger attacker dropped the object, but suddenly lunged forward toward Basil and grabbed him with his left arm.

Basil felt his back pressed up against his truck, but before he could even fully process the situation the attacker struck him very hard. Basil tried to break free, but the attacker was considerably larger and struck him in the face a second time, bringing on a sudden wave of nausea and panic. Basil next tried to return a punch, but as he swung he realized he only had a couple inches of space between his truck and the attacker, causing his punch to bounce harmlessly off the attacker’s chest. The attacker went to strike Basil for a third time, but Basil managed to dodge the punch by compressing his body into a ball. Basil looked into the eyes of his attacker, full of empty rage until the moment his attacker realized what Basil had done.

Using both feet Basil kicked off the truck, knocking his attacker off balance and knocking them both to the ground - the attacker on his back and Basil on top of him. As Basil fell he frantically grasped at his side, hands finally settling on the handle of a small fixed-blade knife he had on his belt. Pulling it out before his attacker could react he plunged it forcefully into his opponent’s chest. His opponent lay on the ground while silently opening his mouth; adrenaline and rage making their way throughout Basil’s bloodstream. He repeatedly pulled the knife out, only to plunge the knife back into his opponent’s chest, over and over again. After what felt to be an eternity Basil’s arms began to give out before falling limply to his sides.

Suddenly Basil realized his opponent was not silent. He was screaming, but in the end of a scream, as he made his final death rattles of a blood-filled throat. In another moment Basil realized that he too was screaming, in the tale end of what sounded like a panicked war cry. In yet another moment Basil realized his arm was screaming - screaming a shout of pain. The large silver object that now sat on the ground beside the two appeared to be some sort of sword, and it had not just bounced harmlessly off him. The rifle may have saved the arm from being chopped off, but it still had a deep stinging cut that blood profusely. Basil stood up in shock, covered in mud, his opponent’s blood, and his own blood. What remained of the Lizard King’s soldiers had advanced into the courtyard to engage the Redcap soldiers or retreated behind the large castle in the center of it. The ringing in his ears was greater than before, adding to the cacophony of gunfire and screams now present, drowning out what little capacity for thought Basil had.

Basil stepped back, dropping the bloody knife by the rifle and sword. Feeling another wave of nausea he collapsed onto the ground beside his truck.