Continued...
The chops of the blade above the
forest floor brought Maja back to the dread of the towering forest. The only
clue he had as to how long he’d been gone were the chirps of the cricket, hoots
of the owls and the blanket of darkness that had enveloped the forest.
The chopper was
hovering above and a beam of light pierced the vegetation. Maja heard footsteps
treading twigs and rotting leaves less than one hundred meters away and
reasoned that a search had begun for him.
The throbs from
different parts of his body brought to mind thoughts about how many bones had
been fragmented. Paying attention to them would do no good right now; he had to
find a way out of this forest.
“Run,” Elion’s
Spirit said again and Maja almost screamed. How was he supposed to run with all
these bones throbbing with chinks? Where would he run to? How did Elion’s
spirit expect him to run in this darkness?
“Run,” Elion’s
Spirit repeated again and despite Maja’s inclination to obey the hurts in his
body, he started off with a trot. His unwillingness negotiated the zeal bend
when he heard Tibetan Mastiffs barking some fifty meters away. The pains in his body gave way to an
adrenaline surge that saw his body expressing a kinaesthetic intelligence that
rivalled his past performance barely eleven hours ago.
He couldn’t see
where he was going, yet he didn’t run into any tree trunks nor get his feet
entangled in calamus shrubs. His movement stirred a series of barks and
increased leave-trampling as the choppers beam chased his tail.
Whether he’d run
for what seemed like five minutes or thirty, Maja couldn’t tell but he broke
into an open field with waist high elephant grass just as the sun rays split
the cloudy skies. Maja had never felt betrayed by the sun. This moment, he
almost swore against its maker. Couldn’t the sun have found a more convenient
(or inconvenient) time to rise?
Despite the
weight of the sun being dropped on his spirit, his feet refused to buckle. They
picked up pace and picked some more. He dared to look back after running sixty
meters into the field which was bordered by a stretch of bamboo groove a full
kilometre ahead. About twenty militants in black camos broke through the forest
line behind him, four mastiffs ahead of them. The ASIM-crested chopper cleared
the forest line moments later.
***
Maj. Deriel
observed the hordes chasing Maja across the fields and observed Capt. Baphael
tense in anticipation of a battle. Their company was scattered about the bamboo
groove, all weapons sheathed and cloaks activated. Maj. Deriel knew the
implications of engaging the approaching horde under Bullo’s command in the
bamboo groove. They would save Maja, but would lose the seventeen other
missionaries awaiting execution in ASIM’s camp.
“What’s your
order, sir?” Capt. Baphael asked the major, not quite sure why Deriel hadn’t
given any tactical orders yet. Baphael was Deriel’s second-in-command for the
twelfth company of the twenty-fourth battalion of the Bureau of War. Their
mission was simple, extract missionaries awaiting execution in Time Zone GMT
+4.
They had camped
here for the last one week and had not found any way of penetrating the thick
fence of hades’ horde around ASIM’s camp. Despite sending cloaked scouts out,
no sensible report had been gotten until ten hours ago when the Bureau of War
Intel Squad reported that a missionary would be sent their way by Elion’s
spirit and he would give them all the Intel they needed to penetrate the camp.
Deriel was well
aware that the only advantage his 250-man company had against Bullo’s triple
battalion would be stealth and in-depth Intel, so he waited.
“We wait,” Deriel
replied Baphael.
“Sir, permission
to speak freely.” Baphael said.
“Granted.”
“I don’t think
that man will make it across the field alive, he’s too wounded to--"
“-- Is he running
like a wounded man?” Deriel quizzed. “If the Intel Squad has guaranteed that
he’ll make it here, then he will.”
Baphael stared at
the man racing towards them with inhuman speed and realized Maja was being
powered by the Elion’s Spirit. No man alive ran that fast.
“Engage the phantom
protocol.” Deriel ordered.
“Yes, Sir!”
Baphael responded and swept towards the closest platoon; Sgt Luriel’s phantom
platoon.
To be continued...
Image credit: wheatonbible.org
