Joshua Simon - Forgotten Soldiers

As a father, I’ve always wanted to be able to tell my children that I had everything under control. That everything will be all right. However, as a father, I never wanted to lie to my children either. But I had no idea what to do. This wasn’t knocking out a communications outpost, or rushing the enemy from a poor position, or defending an undermanned ridge. This was prophecy of the worst kind coming to fruition and I didn’t have the tools, people, or know how to do anything about it.

Ira swore again.

Dekar craned his neck around and caught his first glimpse of the horizon. “Should we even be looking at that? I mean it’s getting brighter all the time.”

Ava blinked. “He’s right. Get away from the window.” She pulled the curtains together and turned away, frantic.

“Everyone. Up against the back wall,” I added, coming out of my stupor.

I couldn’t stop this thing from happening, but I could at least try to keep us safe.

I had everyone sit on the floor against the wall while Ira and Dekar quickly flipped the bed over and threw it against the window. Then they came over and we all huddled together like a bunch of newborn puppies fighting for a spot at their mother’s teat. I made sure everyone held hands. One of mine remained tightly around Ava’s. The last thing I wanted was for her to be out for several days again.

Or worse.

Even with the curtains pulled, the room continually brightened as light pushed its way in through the cracks in the walls nobody ever sees. It could have been my imagination, but it felt as though thunder rumbled beneath the inn. The floorboards shook. We would not be able to pretend none of this was happening.

The artifact would get its due.

The air grew thick and it became harder to breath, like working in the fields on a sweltering summer day. Sweat poured off my skin. Ava’s hand grew slick in mine.

The rising voices of panicked people sounded outside.

“I wish we could do something to help them,” said Zadok.

“We can’t even help ourselves,” said Myra. Her voice edging on the hysterical.

I tried to remain calm. “We’ll help when this is all over. Same as last time.” I paused. “Only we won’t wait as long as before.”

He nodded, reassured.

A faint hum I wasn’t sure if I was imagining tickled the inside of my ears.

“Xank be damned. All this waiting makes me feel like I’m back in the army,” swore Ira.

I knew exactly what he meant.

My stomach rolled in that familiar way before leaving on a mission. The anticipation before any battle was often worse than the battle itself simply because that was when there was time to think and dwell on what may or may not happen.

I felt it pretty safe to say that no one wanted to think about what would happen next.

The dull hum grew, just as a howling wind blew. The inn shuddered. Things fell from shelves and chairs tumbled over. The dresser gyrated across the room like an uneven wagon wheel.

Ava yelled something, but I couldn’t hear a thing because the blasted hum had grown so loud. The window of our room shattered, the force behind it knocking the mattress down. Glass showered inside like a spring rain, whipping the curtains away from the opening. The sound of other windows breaking followed. More light poured inside.

“We can’t stay here! Everyone to the cellar,” I yelled.

Dekar led the way out with me bringing up the rear half-blinded by light pouring inside. The wind gusted back and forth through our suite, following us into the hallway, howling like a banshee as it flung loose debris about.

We moved quickly. Our feet pounded the floorboards and stairs while thunder crashed and my children cried out in fear.

We ran into Boaz and his family on their way to the cellar. We followed them inside and then barricaded the door. I had him and his family huddle near us, grabbing onto either me or one of my kids.

Staring at each other with blank expressions, the whole inn rocked as the ground shifted and groaned. For a moment, I questioned whether I had made the right call in getting everyone to go below ground. The entire building could collapse on top of us.

Then thunder boomed, shaking my insides. The sound of a furious hailstorm followed, pelting the inn like a snare drum keeping time for the pace kept in hell. Outside, animals cried out in fear. I thought I heard a woman scream.

The end of the world had truly begun.

I wondered if even hell could be this bad.

Zadok squeezed my hand. “I’m scared, Pa.”

I looked down. “Me too.” I squeezed his hand back. “But I promise we’ll be all right.”

Somehow.