Malachi was stunned, though he showed no outward signs of it to his people. Only seven of his followers had staggered back into the camp. They were injured, mostly burned, but healing quickly. The rest had died. How was this possible? How had Shaniah managed to kill nearly two hundred Archaics?
Jonathan and Lucas were both dead, he was told. Before him stood an Archaic who had once been a Blackfoot Indian. He had been turned when Malachi and a few of the others had stumbled across their hunting camp the previous winter. His Blackfoot name had been Walking Cat. He looked as though he had been in a fight.
Most of his chest and face had been burned. Two small wooden stakes stuck out of his right shoulder. Malachi removed one of them to study it. It was made from a hardwood, likely oak, and sharpened to a deadly point. Walking Cat’s left arm hung loosely at his side, although it was already beginning to heal. The flesh on his burned face and chest was returning to normal, and a few seconds later the other wooden stake popped loose from his shoulder and fell to the ground.
“Tell me what happened,” Malachi said.
“We went for the train, as you instructed. It was stopped at the end of the spur, as you said it would be,” he said. Malachi’s followers had learned that he loved to be flattered by being told he was or had been right about things.
“We pushed trees onto to the track behind them, big trees, ones humans could not move or lift, so they could not escape. We were lining up, readying ourselves to attack when…”
The young Indian stopped. Though he had not been turned long, he should be fearless, Malachi thought. Archaics were afraid of nothing. Yet this man was afraid. As if he was reliving something horrible and could not bear to think of it.
“Go on, tell me,” Malachi prodded.
“They opened the doors of the train and… they…” Walking Cat stammered. Malachi was growing impatient. Wanting to snap the man’s neck if he didn’t start talking.
“They did what?” Malachi demanded, his voice taking on an angry tone and rising in pitch. The other Archaics were watching now, they were spellbound by Walking Cat’s story, but they also grew restless and nervous at the thought of Malachi’s anger.
“Fire came from inside the train. Before he died, Jonathan said two of the humans were the same ones from Absolution. They had weapons that shot flame, a great distance. I… we caught fire. Another human shot a gun,” he stopped and picked up the wooden bullet that lay in the dust at his feet. “The gun, I have seen them before, when I fought the bluecoats. It shoots many bullets, and between this gun and the fire, we… many of us died. We kept attacking, but we could not get inside the train for some reason. It was like the doors were blocked somehow. No matter how many times we tried, no matter which direction we attacked from, we could not enter the train.” Walking Cat bowed his head and his shoulders slumped when he finished his report.
“Where are the others? Those who came back with Walking Cat? Step forward,” Malachi said.
Six Archaics made their way toward him, reluctant looks on their faces. The crowd parted until the seven of them stood in line facing Malachi. Most of them bore similar injuries to Walking Cat, burns and cuts and broken bones, but they were also starting to heal. None of them faced Malachi, they were afraid and disappointed they had let him down, and stood there with their heads hanging low
“Tell me,” he said to them. “Is what Walking Cat has told us true?” He spoke loudly so all of the remaining Archaics could hear him.
All of them mumbled yes or nodded their heads, still unwilling to face their leader.
“As Archaics, you were ordered to attack Shaniah, to find her and kill her and you did not. You returned here like whipped dogs with tales of weapons and fire and human tricks, instead of stories of a great victory! Is this not true?”
The seven of them stood motionless. There was nothing to say, they had no defense. Their leader had given them a command and they had failed.
Malachi moved so quickly, the seven Archaics were dead almost before anyone could blink. From somewhere in the folds of his cloak he pulled a long gleaming knife and with the speed of an Olympian god he decapitated all of them in seconds. Where there had been standing, living beings, there were now only bodies and heads, and their screams died before their heads hit the ground, their faces still showing the death grimace of surprise.
The crowd was silent. Malachi looked at the remaining group.
“It will be sunup soon. We will wait until the darkness returns, then we will find Shaniah and the humans who assist her. And we will kill them.” He spun on his heel and entered the mine. Leaving the Archaics behind him, the sun just beginning to peek over the eastern horizon.