Desolate Gail: Redux

by Zeronova

The walls of Troy have been blasted open by Kiske, and Troy is as vulnerable as the Seikishidan, but personal conflicts still exist. End of Arc II. Updates periodically.

9. Arc 1: The elevator

-X- Introduction -X-
- Desolate Gail Redux
- Started on: 5-17-2004 / Posted on: 7-12-2004 / Checked on: 3-11-2005
- By: Zeronova
- Chapter 9: The elevator

- Text: Third person, Narration
- Text: First person, Thoughts
- Text: Interjection, the Narrator

X- End Introduction -X-

Darkness was the horizon, darkness was the man running next to you, darkness was what you breathed in haggard gasps of pain and exhaustion, and darkness was what kept you moving, pushing further and further. All of these things helped, fueled the fire, pushed them harder. They ran faster, slashing wildly to each side as they ran, slicing through Gear flesh with limp blades, expending all energy on the next stamp of their boot into the unforgiving cement, ready to fall and die, yet stepping again, dying again, and another, and another, never stopping.

Drop it! Ky threw off the small duffel bag he had over his shoulder, his hand searching inside, coming out with three cylindrical flares, then dropped the cloth bag in the darkness, hearing one Gear cry out as it got tangled up in it and fell also, trampled under the razor claws of the surging ones behind him. Smashing the small aluminum head of the flare onto his leg as he kept running, the top broke through the chemical seal, magnesium and phosphates mixing, burning through each other and the flare, an eerie orange glow emitting, as well as a dark smoke, which was impervious to the darkness already surrounding them.

Monsters of the darkness seemed to shirk away, jagged edges jumping through the illumination to be forced back again, denied access, and speared with the sword of a dull orange luminescence. The flare was swallowed by the surge of Gears, pieces of it being destroyed as it was cut into smaller and smaller pieces by the spikes protruding from nails, ankles, shins, everywhere on these special breed Gears. They had extra bone growth, from every point possible. Lucky for Gears, they had no thought, no feeling, or else it would be rather impossible to successfully walk without pain that was excruciating. But, the growth of these special breeds of animalistic Gears were designed to have abnormal bone growth, and once it began, they were sharpened, bone turned to flint-like tools of death. Spikes from knees, spikes from shoulders, out of the side of one wrist, it was all abnormal, yet expected. Somewhat of a Darwinian conundrum, since they did help the Gears survive more, but if they were allowed to know and feel it, it would be an instant threat to their survival because of the inability to move. Yet, with the control of their feelings, they would move like it was not a problem, compensate for a limp in the left leg, more power in the right, and it was solved.

Kiske slowly let the all of the other soldier pass him, with reasonable speed. Those who were tired and falling back on their own accord, he couldn't help, but those still pushing, still trying, he could. Slowly, he lessened his pace, igniting another flare, and tossing it in front of him twenty feet, looking over his shoulder to see the silhouetted figures of death surging like a wave forward more and more. Be a leader, save your soldiers. Kiske took the Fuuraiken, switched his grip on it from him holding the grip with the blade going upward, in the direction of pinkie to index, to the opposite way, blade to the ground, index to pinkie, in that line of direction. Seeing the coat tails of the running Seikishidan ahead, running over and past the flare he threw, he gave himself silent confirmation.

A quick, jerked slash behind him left a small lightning trail, whispering in blue innocence, since it was commanded by the magical technology, one Gear falling dead from it. Ky continued to run, throwing his sword around behind him, without looking, but seeing the gravel in front of him turn blue in a pale light, his own foot steps and body making small slits of darkness, invading into the ally, light. Light soon faded, a cry of a Gear, then a squishy sound of trampling, and he'd throw his arm behind him again, keeping a firm grip, but making sure that the sword had a swing to it, the electricity brimming off. He killed maybe one per swing, not very significant in the long run, but it helped. Morale boosting, knowing they're being killed slowly.

The last flair in Ky's left hand, right hand holding the Fuuraiken, he smashed the aluminum head on his knee, throwing it in front of him, a high arc and a fading trail of orange and smoke in its wake, like a beacon that the flair was here, right here, come and look before it fades! Clunk. Ky, in the middle of a swing, suddenly stopped, his view over his shoulder swinging forward to see what made that noise. The flair stopped in mid-air, twisting, then started to fall. As it did, the orange luminescence gave birth to the silent darkness that housed salvation. The steel frame bars, four in a square formation all stretching vertically, with horizontal bars for stabilization every three meters, and in between every square two more rods, shaping an X, boxed in, every three meters, another. In the center of this were a bundle of metal wires, cobwebs dangling from them, slightly rusted. Pieces were revealed, lower and lower, as the light fell, then, it was revealed. The wires led to a small rectangle on the back of a large piece of metal. The box was a motor, the large piece of metal, and the floor of the cargo elevator. Sixteen feet across, twenty feet wide, fitting just inside the metal vertical frame. The elevator! We're here!

The flair found itself a new owner, as another Seikishidan soldier picked it up merely moments after it hit the ground, scanning the elevator, Kiske twenty feet back, the surge of Gears inches behind him, close enough to feel their heart beats and breaths, but inches out of the reach of death. The five there, two privates, two lieutenants, one captain (Jaygus), all seemed to be confused as what to do, finding a block in their path to run. Like animals caged and cornered, they're scared, afraid, do not know what to do, but like a cornered animal, they fight fiercely. Kiske ran forward harder now, a slight limp in his left leg developing, from cramps, exhaustion, maybe a twist or dehydration, who knew, but it hurt, yet he pushed harder.

"Fight!" he screamed, diving forward in-between two of the soldiers in front of him, the five standing slashing at the wall of Gears behind Ky. He came within inches of smashing into the wall from his dive, but it gave him a brief second to get off his feet, yet standing up and turning to fight was instinct, no pain in it inherently. The pain was there, but he didn't feel it, it was what he needed to do. The point of "ouch" pain was gone; now the pain was more of staleness in where it should hurt, numbness with a sharp stinging. Not so much hurt pain, but it just didn't work, the affected area was somehow less useful, and that was the real pain, that it didn't work as it should. Fatigue, exhaustion, tears, pulls, sprains, breaks, stabs, cuts, infections, none of that mattered now. It would catch up, but in the moment, they were nothing more than tallies of things that were annoying, to get done what they needed. Pain was put on hold.

Getting up from his dive, Kiske made sure to smash the small lever with the elevator movement to the "Up" position, the old rod, with a small red ball on the end, hooked to a few wires and electronics, the slow buzz of life and activity surging through the wires, becoming taut and revived. Shirking cobwebs, loose hanging wires standing at attention by the call of Ky Kiske, and a small clink-clank of parts moving, jostling, from the decades long rest, dust jumping off like a dog being pushed off of a bed, of which it thought it owned, by the master of the pet.

Kiske brushed one soldier to the side, finding his place in the now six-man line defense, the surges of Gears pressing on them, each slowly backing up against the progressing wall. They had lost two soldiers earlier, two privates, one of them impaled by a flying Gear, the other fell behind and was taken out, making six of them, seven if Darton was included. The flair was behind them, showing few of the oncoming Gears, their own bodies blocking the light, death coming from all sides and places. At a point like this, light isn't imperative. Sight, hearing, all of the senses aren't effectual. At this state of exhaustion and utter concentration, men can feel what is happening, they can feel their enemy, their movements, they can feel the steel in their sword more so than swinging it, but every impact, every slash, every contact with flesh. A sixth sense of war, perhaps. Old war stories tell of it, how amazing things were done by men who were in the moment, who in any other circumstance would have died. One of the books I kept with me from my tour de force in Italy was a story about wars fought before the Gears, before the Seikishidan, back when there were countries (is that the right word?). Of one of these stories, a man was shot eight times, yet didn't die. He kept fighting, kept shooting back, and won the fight. He went back home three days later, back to his base, and had a glass of water, then bled to death. They say he was so dehydrated when he was fighting, his blood wasn't liquidly enough to seep out of the bullet holes, and clogged them up, basically. When he drank the water, it was essentially pouring water into a holed bag, and he died. He fought, and he kept going, regardless or not of his injuries, he didn't even know he had them, and that is war, what it can do to men. While war is also a terrible thing, it is also a glorious one. I want you, the reader, to question this, to wonder, is war bad, or is war good, by the end of my story. I want you to view war with respect, of what it deserves.

War isn't just men dying for a cause, fighting for whatever is put into their heads, it is humanity. Humans always have to fight. Money, land, love, all of it, the curse of actually being smart enough, smarter than beasts, to have these qualities, also leads back to being an animal for these things. Though, some of the best parts of being human come out when you are least human. How human you are isn't being a Samaritan, saying hello to people on the streets, it's how you are when the pressure is on, you're going to die, and you decide what to do, despite you could die. When you put death as the goal for any decision, which can come in matters of seconds, people are their most human. War brings this out more than any other thing that I have ever seen; yet with war, that humanity is also begot by one person having to die, and that death by another person. The actual killing of another person is a human trait we are sad of, yet in this current war, against the inhuman, we still kill each other. While metaphorically, it is also literal. And, Justice knows this too. But, as I have said, Justice knew as well. And, that humanity, life or death, is why he couldn't win, why Justice can't put out the flame of humanity, because humans are human, more than beast, and always will be. Humans fought to be the top of the food chain, the top of everything, and nothing is going to relinquish them from that, our greed is insatiable, and nothing but the best will do, we will win, we will not take second on the pecking order on this planet, humanity's plant, on Earth, on anywhere. No Gear, no beast, no anything, will ever topple humanity, because we have exactly that, humanity.

Kiske took a brisk slash at a Gear to his left, his sword meeting with the sharpened jutting bone on its right leg it threw forward to try and pierce him, the Fuuraiken cutting through the sinew and flesh, yet the Gear showing no emotion, as it brought its leg back, and struck again with another limb. Side stepping the other stab from its left knee cap, Kiske sharply stabbed through its belly, sword angled upward, exiting through its clammy, soft left shoulder blade, the rotten bone curling around the blade, the flesh slowly cracking and sizzling black from the current running through it. A gurgle choked itself from the Gear, and then it fell limp on the sword. Shrugging it off, Ky brought himself up to find another Gear, an abundance around him.

The seven, including Ky, had their backs inches from the wall, the animalistic prototype Gears surrounding them. The previously mentioned loss of reality, fighting for life itself, kicked in. Somehow ephemeral, like a ballet, they blocked, swung, side stepped, ducked, dodged, taking small cuts or none at all, and continued to kill, effectively, efficiently.

"Argh! Get offa me, bitch! You want some of this!" a lieutenant screamed, an elongated finger piercing his chest. It was on his right side, so cardiac arrest wasn't immediately in his voyeur of death, cutting the arm of the Gear off, then removing the object from his chest, blood dribbling down his uniform, but him impervious to the wound, striking down the Gear that had dared to kill him, then reaching out to attack another, not caring about pain or death, just fighting. Don't lose your focus, keep fighting.

"Move, damnit!" another voice echoed from another soldier. Kiske threw a poor swing of his sword forward, the bolts of electricity jumping off and spearing three Gears in front of him, slowly illuminated in dull blue, all of their grotesque features given radiance before they fell down dead. He took a second to look from where the voice came from...in front of him. All he could see were the hordes of Gears, so where did the voice come from? Then, he knew instantly. Quint Darton. Then, another piece to the constantly growing problematic puzzle, the elevator that Kiske turned on started to move. The small platform, which was vertically lifted by means of the central cable attached to the small motor, started moving upward, dust billowing upward from the ground that it sat over for decades.

Thud. A dull squish and splatter of blood surprised Kiske for the third time in less than five seconds as a Gear body fell to the ground besides him, a long upward cut across its chest, exposing rotting organs, and three severed ribs. Where did that come from...? Looking up again, Kiske saw. Back, behind the flood of Gears, he saw a few every second scream as they were lifted up, thrown out of the way, like children by the bigger kids on the playground. Landing among the other Gears, killing them, rolling through, flying through the air to smash into the wall behind Kiske and into the vertical rails that held the elevator, cracking bones and falling down to the unforgiving Earth which God created, killing the un-Godly creation by the other Godly creation, gravity.

"Move out, get on, soldiers!" Ky screamed, fending off the front row of Gears encircling them with a wide horizontal slash, sending an arced wave of electricity into them, paralyzing, burning, killing. The other soldiers fell behind Kiske, running to the elevator, inching upward, stomping their feet on the metal pad slowly moving upward. "Darton, hurry up!" Ky yelled, before following suit and jumping onto the elevator pad, which moved about an inch a second. It was a freight elevator, very slow, but could lift heavy cargo up. The Gears seemed to move as one, surging upon the rectangular framed elevator shaft, climbing up the support poles, jumping through to fall on the elevator pad in front and beside the Seikishidan.

A Gear leapt forward, past the crowd swarming and encircling the slow elevator platform. Smashing through one of the supporting girders, it landed in front of Ky, the snapped girder landing side by side to the Gear, who stood up slowly, popping a dislocated shoulder back in as it grunted in delight of the imminent kill, feeling no pain, only popping the shoulder for the efficiency to kill would be higher, had it been out. One quick jab from Ky's left hand knocked the Gear off of its feet and backward, which it then toppled off of the elevator, about 18 inches down, not too much, but was then pierced through by the foot of another Gear, veering to get into the elevator to kill a human, as per the programming Justice relayed to it.

All of them killed off the animalistic Gears who unremittingly attacked the slow elevator, which seemed to only move slowly for the satisfaction of watching the conflict. The Gears poured through the super structure of the X-ing support beams, jumping through to try and have a stab at the humans. The previously stabbed Seikishidan lieutenant was standing next to Ky, fending off his own foes. One was in front of him, a second working its way up the wall and through one of the spaces in the elevator valences. One quick slash to the one in front of him, through its chest, and he stabbed the one that was trying to climb through. It gurgled blood from its mouth at the sudden stab, then grabbed the blade lodged in its ribcage, pulling the soldier with it as it fell backward. Reluctant to let go of his sword, he was thrown against the meshing of the side of the elevator, struggling and grunting against the dead weight of the Gear, growling as it tugged harder.

Out of the side of Kiske's eye, he saw it unfold. A quick blow to the lower leg of a Gear climbing up, then kicking the rest of the body so it toppled off, he made quick work of the oncoming Gear, then turned to the lieutenant. He reached out to Ky with one hand, the other scraping against the meshing of the side of the elevator, slowly sliding downward. Kiske jumped at him, switching the Fuuraiken to his left hand, grasping with his right. His hand came so close to clenching his, but he was gone. He toppled out of the side of the elevator, behind dragged down through one of the holes in the X-ing that gave the elevator structural stability. Continuing with his jump to the soldier, he fell forward to the side of the elevator, catching himself on one of the rails, then looked down to see the soldier fall into a mass of Gears. He tried to get up, but was stabbed by one Gear, then another, and he tried harder, then he could no longer be seen, darkness covering him, his screams the only trace he ever existed.

Then, another Gear found its way onto the structure, climbing up to try and get in to kill the Seikishidan. Wait, no, it thudded against the rails, then fell down, a splash of blood startling Kiske. Darton! About fifteen feet from the base of the elevator, Ky could see Gear after Gear being attacked from behind, thrown forward, to the side, like being picked up by the darkness and moved, the hand of God playing the pawns in chess. The hell...they're being tossed? Like marionettes, tossed...

One quick jerk forward with the Fuuraiken sent a crescent of lightning hurtling forward, reaching out to the steel girders, and seeming to change trajectory from the Gear it was aimed at, smashing into the girders with fading blissfulness, the blue light like an angel, then leaving, like these few soldiers aren't holy enough to be sanctified. A few of the Gears climbing up the side suddenly screamed in terror, and fell off, burnt flesh of where they were grabbing onto the rails invading the senses of the few humans.

"Sir, the electricity!" Jaygus yelled, a brief smile on his face, gleaming with sweat in the pale blue light wafting off of Kiske's sword, the heat of the battle and fervor of its user giving it a blasphemous consistency, to glow and create something God hadn't intended to kill. Another few Gears were thrown to the sides and smashed down, Kiske feeling a slight gust. Turning his view, he could now see Darton from his elevated position about five or six feet off of the ground.

"Come on! Jump on!" Kiske yelled, slashing a Gear in mid-air, who was jumping up to the elevator, was killed mid flight, and smashed loudly against the rails, but it was dead before it even touched, then falling down to the ground, on top of two other Gears.

Darton ran forward, slashing to his left, no Gear being touched by his sword, and a second later, another step forward, and it seemed to be tethered to a string, and pulled on hard, flying outward from where the swing was. Kiske watched in disbelief as this phenomenon graced his eyes. What kind of blasphemy does God show me now...?

I feel like I'm not writing this as I should. How I am narrating it, doesn't feel right. I want to say it just right, convey how these few soldiers kept over a hundred Gears at bay, while riding up a severely slow elevator, to have one more come in late, the last horse in the cavalry. I want it to be epic, I want to scream some sort of cinematic appropriateness for the situation, yet I have written it five different ways, this one being the best I could muster. I don't want this to influence you, my reader, to think of this as an unimportant struggle, as everyone of them is life and death in war. So, I'll switch narrative from Ky's point of view to Quint's now.

Come on, Darton. You can do this, you're still living after that group you killed earlier, so just get on the goddamn elevator. One foot in front of the other, slashing his sword one side to the other, plowing through stale air as the life was sucked out of it to each slash he made, small vortexes flinging Gears off of their feet with each swipe of the sword.

"Sir, the electricity!" Darton heard Jaygus say above, obviously to Kiske. Shit, electricity? You better not do it, you better not before I am on!

"Don't do it, Kiske!" Darton growled out, above the whines and growls of the Gears around, climbing up the walls, jumping to the slow elevator, trying to complete the mission objective, kill Ky Kiske. His words fell upon deaf ears, as he saw Kiske, stepping forward to the bars, about eight feet off of the ground, seeing the top half of Ky at the angle. He brought his sword up slowly, getting ready to touch it to the interlaced poles, which would conduct the electricity to anything touching it and the ground. And, if the electric charge were great enough, it would even jump from the poles to anything near that was a conductor. And, the Fuuraiken probably was powerful enough. "Don't do it!" Darton screamed again, yet he saw the tip come closer and closer, bits of electricity jumping off in anticipation. Time seemed to slow to Quint; every second like death was going to kill him, that every step would be his last. Gears right now didn't bother him, it was another human that might be his death, ironically. Not today. A quick slash upward, and a swizoosh of wind. Kiske's sword flew back, as well as his body from the gust of wind, knocking over Jaygus as he fell.

Good, bought time. Now, use it! Throwing his sword in-between his belt and his uniform, sheath useless to the awkward shaped sword, he jumped into the air, hands grabbing for parts of the guiding steel beams. He felt that his body slightly tckled a Gear out of the way behind, but his hand still grabbed a rung on the open elevator shaft. The four beams were at the corners of the flat elevator floor panel, leading upward, guiding straight, an upward ascension. Extra beams were in place to make sure they stayed exactly where they were, and linked it all together, beams making X shapes, interlocking and weaving, X on top of X of beams. And, they were perfect for climbing. Looking up while climbing higher, trying to catch up to the slowly rising elevator, Darton found a foothold at the bottom of one X, reaching upward for another.

A dirty blonde head popped out above of him, Kiske looking down, a scowl of pure envy and anger, knowing that somehow, Darton stopped him from killing Gears, which would have inadvertently, included him. Though, the deaths of Gears weren't far off. A low growl and a humid mist grew up on the side of Darton's neck, a Gear climbing next to him, one arm on the rails, one in the wall, climbing up. It raised one of its sharpened hands, bone protruding with bits of blood and sinew trickling off. Darton took advantage of the moment while it had its hand up, and quickly jabbed it in the face, removing his fist to see a changed expression, of anger he saw previously on a human. While Justice could control Gears, they still had primal urges, anger being one that could be semi-controlled. It took a stab with its claws, missing Quint, who jumped to the side, foot losing hold on the rail, but quickly finding a new one. Then, he kicked the Gear, who quivered, then again, and again, until the leg he was kicking gave out. It broke sickeningly, bone piercing the rotten skin, and the Gear incapable of holding its weight, falling down into the darkness.

Darton climbed higher, foot into the hold of an X, hand in the center of it, and the other on the side, wrenching himself up. The elevator crept up, but he caught up to it, pulling himself up each piece of the criss-crossing steel X's. Reaching for the bottom of the elevator, his fingers graced it, with an outstretched arm, then slipped off as it jerked upward. He jumped up another X, hearing a Gear clank onto the steel under him, then reached again. He closed his eyes, hoping to grab it, hoping his fingers grabbed onto the elevator and he could pull himself inside, sit down, rest, take a break, just not die. He felt his hand grab something, though it was not steal. Looking up, he saw the friendly eyes of Jaygus, his hand grabbing Quint's, and jerking him upward, helping him into the elevator, passing through one of the holes in an X, barely missing being chopped by the top of one as the elevator ascended. Darton dropped into the elevator, breathing hard, the sword clanking on the ground, the rest of the soldiers all stabbing off Gears who tried to enter as they gained more and more height. Kiske gave him one look of instant malice, then took the Fuuraiken, and poised it against on of the four guiding vertical rails. A slight buzz was heard, the electricity surging, and then the slam of a few Gear bodies on the ground below.

The higher they got, the less Gears could keep up, and if they touched the rails while they touched anything else, they were given a few hundred volts. The Gears were basically contained, as they rose higher and higher into the darkness on the old elevator.

"Darton! You almost cost us all our lives! How dare you!" Kiske jumped from the poised position of where he left the Fuuraiken, tracing the rail as it consistently went up, like a crutch that slid among a smooth side, constantly providing the charge, and giving a dull blue glow on them all.

"Wouldn't you be" a cough interrupting his statement, the dehydration and exhaustion catching up "dead without my little attack from behind?"

"Of course not, we are the Seikishidan, God gives us the power to persist!"

"Sure, sure, just lemme rest." Darton said sarcastically, wiping his face with the sleeve of his uniform. Kiske brimmed with anger, opened his mouth to argue, then shut it suddenly. He looked around, the other soldiers slowly sliding down onto the floor of the elevator, hard breathing, the death catching up to them, sniveling, and fighting to keep awake. Then Kiske himself felt the fatigue, whelming from his legs, up to his chest, looming there and sweeping through his body like a virus. A sullen nod from Jaygus gave Ky the last piece he needed, then he sat down, and found himself as tired as the rest.

"I'll finish this...with you..." Kiske grumbled between lazy lips.

"Yeah, I got some poignant words for you too, boy..."

-X- Author's Notes –X-
- Zeronova's Notes:
- Eh, I don't think this chapter got quite the treatment I wanted it to get. I wrote it at 3 in the morning, so deal with me, please. Next Monday, next update.
-X- End Author's Notes –X-