The KING

By VA Pesce

Prophecy Fulfilled - [10] A great star, blazing like a torch, fell from the sky [11] the name of the star is Wormwood. And it carries destruction upon its surface.

30,000 years ago the war for America ended. Tomorrow it starts anew. Are you ready?

The epic battle occurred in a time before time; an epoch yet undiscovered, an age that humans should not revisit.
But, the United States just had to test that weapon; another addition for its vast military arsenal to strike fear in enemies and keep peace in the world. However, something went wrong, horribly wrong.
Detonated too close to the Earth's magnetic pole, the pulse from the weapon test shatters the magical barrier that banished an army so feared, so evil, that it took the combined might of many powerful sorcerers to entrap it. The Lias Tribe is released, and Queen LinaLias, finally freed, unleashes her Horde to wreak havoc on America. Millions of her bloodthirsty creations swarm the lands from north to south, devouring every human in their path. None shall be spared her vengeance, she so swears it.
President Brock D’Manna, working long hours to finally bring peace to the Middle East, takes vacation for the holiday season and returns to his hometown to relax. His respite is short lived when a pulse wave flashes through the city, instantly disabling the power grid. Working with local authorities, D’Manna helps restore some semblance of order in the city, but he fears it will not last. Little does he know; the worst is yet to come. Something far more sinister is closing in, leaving a trail of death and destruction in their wake.
There's no escaping this nightmare. Without warning, chaos and carnage reign, and people suddenly find themselves in the jet-black night of civilization's darkest age, falling victim to the basest form of animalistic annihilation.
Woe to mankind; the ancient queen comes to reclaim her lands, and this time sorcery cannot stop her...

Revelation:
[7] The [Horde] looked like Beasts prepared for battle. On their heads, they wore something like crowns of gold, and their faces resembled human [children]. [8] Their hair was like women's hair, and their teeth were like lions' teeth. [9] They had armor like breastplates of iron, and the sound of their passage was like the thundering of many horses and chariots rushing into battle. [10] They had staves and stings like scorpions, and in their staves, they had power to [annihilate] people. [11] They had as [Queen] over them an angel, whose name is [LinaLinas], and in the [old tongue], The [Mother]. [20] They trampled humans in the winepress outside the cities, and blood flowed out of the press, rising as high as the horses' bridles.

And the Earth shall run RED with BLOOD

• Language: English
• Publisher: VA Pesce
• Release date: Oct 9, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301912094

VA Pesce

About VA Pesce Launching READ for Rachel Campaign Rachel is a 13 y/o young lady who suffered severe side-effects from the HPV vaccine shot. Proceeds will go directly to Rachel to help her fight for her life. When I decided to re-launch my novel a friend asked me why I am giving away my work. This was not a hard decision for me. When my son, Brad, was 6 years old, doctors nearly killed him with medication that caused severe side-effects. Many guardian angels came to his rescue and saved his life. Strangers I didn't know, but who cared deeply about my son. I owe them more than I can ever repay. I hope to be one of Rachel's guardian angels, and I hope you join me. Purchase a book for Rachel, and then pass the word on to as many people you know. Rachel has hope for some recovery from the devastating effects of this vaccine, but it will take significant funds to achieve it and a lot of sweat and tears from Rachel. Together we can move the world for Rachel.

Book preview

For Rachel

Stay strong and never lose faith.

READ FOR RACHEL

Is a program I established for this lovely 13-year-old young lady, who, due to devastating side effects from the HPV vaccine, is wheelchair bound and in dire need of our help. A portion of proceeds from every purchase will be made to the Rachel Fund.

(Also available in Hardcover (complete story), and Paperback Book 1 - Revelation Prophecy Fulfilled, and Book 2 – The King)

Acknowledgment:

I wish to give an enormous thank you, to you, my readers. I hope you enjoy the story.

In addition, thank you to my family and to a dear friend who passed while this story was still in the publishing works. His influence inspired many verbal interactions of the President’s leadership team and these memories still bring a smile to my face. Rest in peace my friend.

V.A. Pesce

If all rumors are based upon some fraction of truth, then one could reason that all fairy tales derive from the same. Modern man is a creative beast, yet the fantastic stories that abound today could not be imagined if not for a sliver of reality.

Book 1 Abridged

(Revelation Prophecy Fulfilled E-Book 1)

The world continues to struggle for survival through the extreme winter conditions caused by the use of the Pulse. Months have passed without any modern conveniences and humanity begins to revert to tribal structures in order to survive. With no electronic communications available beyond each person’s immediate sphere of influence, bands of people group together to meet their survival needs. These groups begin fighting each other for what food and other conveniences remain, but with these resources nearly depleted, fighting between groups escalates and human suffering spreads even more. It is survival of the fittest as nature takes its natural course. All the while, the vast majority of humanity is ignorant of the danger sweeping from the north on the continent of the Americas. Canadians and Americans in the path are ill prepared to meet the enemy and fall easy prey to the vicious invaders. With unbelievable swiftness, the invaders storm through Canada and begin their deadly march on the United States.

An odd group of visitors finally makes President Brock D’Manna, who is vacationing in Chicago when the nightmare began, aware of the invasion. With knowledge revealed, the President moves quickly to inform and consolidate the populace. However, just like all humanity, the President is limited in his communication outlets and still in the grip of a devastating winter freeze. With no army to meet the invaders in the field, Brock decides to call all the people he can to the downtown area of the city in hopes of forming some type of defense behind the Chicago River. The plan will concede the land to the invaders, but the President has no other choice.

The skilled warriors of the Western Tribe, led by LinaLias, the Mother, easily conquer the humans foolish enough to get in their path. With efficiency born from millenniums of warfare, the Western Tribe warriors dominate the human populace and feed the Mother’s Horde past the gorging point. So many human dead litter the ground that the Horde could no longer keep a healthy appetite. A vast wake of death and decay lay behind her unstoppable warriors and Lina revels in their victories. This land was hers prior to her imprisonment, and she will take every inch of it back. Brutal in their tactics and skill, the Western Tribe exerts their might at will, without any major resistance.

The D’Manna brothers, Nick and Brad, race back to the United States with thirty thousand Special Forces. This is all that remains of the American Army that domineered Iraq and Afghanistan so easily just a few months prior. The advanced weaponry of the United States military proved useless once the electronic storm hit and the insurgence wasted little time in their attack. Out numbered ten to one, the American army crumbled and retreated to the safety of Kuwait and Saudi Arabia. The Special Forces, separated from their comrades and with a vast army of militants between them, had no choice but to retreat westward toward Israel. During their desperate escape, they encounter a small band of an ancient Eastern Tribe that relay the danger sweeping across America. With the aide of strange allies and even stranger events, they begin their trek to save their country from the impending slaughter.

The King

Book 2

Avera’s Map

The Mothers Advance

¹¹They had as [Queen] over them an angel, whose name is [LinaLinas], and in the [old tongue], The [Mother].²⁰They trampled humans in the winepress outside the cities, and blood flowed out of the press, rising as high as the horses' bridles.

Presidential Log Entry

"Invasion of America. Canada gone and the majority of our troops stationed overseas. No weapons or skill to fight the invaders effectively on our own soil; we are at a distinct disadvantage.

I write this entry the old fashion way, with pen and paper. If my nation still stands when this note is discovered, then we have accomplished what I dread we could not. Humanity must band together or all will be lost.

I pray GOD gives us the strength to succeed."

~ Brock D’Manna - 44h President of the United States of America. ~

Matthew 24:36

But of that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but the Father alone

Nick & Brad

On the morning after their arrival in Carthage, and after spending the night coordinating travel logistics, the massive fleet of ancient ships slowly bobbed and sailed its way through the deep blue Mediterranean waters. One hundred Viking warships caused quite a stir from the inhabitants of the coast, and word quickly spread of the desperate mission.

The soldiers pulled shifts for rowing when the winds died, and relaxed when the winds howled. After the first two days, Brad correlated the ships timing and started making calculations for his Captain, Vicki White. Vicki is a stunning woman, and Brad became smitten with her from first sight. His shyness got the better of him whenever she was near and he berated himself mentally for this foolishness. He commanded hundreds of men, but for the life of him, he could not bring intelligent words out of his mouth when she came within five feet.

Overall, according to Brad's calculations, they averaged about two hundred miles every twenty-four hours. At this pace, they would clear Spain and Morocco within five days, then cross the Atlantic in another twenty-seven. The ships were massive, and they had plenty of dried goods and liquid to complete the trip, but Brad wondered about the boredom that a month long voyage would bring.

For the first leg of the journey, Brad marveled at the ships. They were large Drakkars and only the most powerful Viking Kings owned them. Planking ran the entire length and no sleeping quarters existed below deck. Everyone stored their personal belongings in chests that oarsmen sat on while rowing. With its draft of only about three feet, and a huge single sail, the ships were swift and formidable.

As the vessels bounced through the ocean waves, the Northmen kept the boat inhabitants upbeat and lively. The Irishmen, who preferred the title of Northmen, were all big and burly, but once you got past their intimidating looks, they proved to be very friendly and great company. They told the American soldiers stories of how they lived and how their ancestors once ruled the lands. Old stories and old battles, rumored treasures, and feisty women; they had over a month to kill, and as the days progressed, the stories grew taller with each telling.

As time passed, Brad learned through casual conversation that Vicki was a descendant of Olaf inn Hviti, or Olaf the White, Viking King and co-ruler of Dublin. Lindsey descended from Ivarr's line, and most of the Northmen on the ships were in some way or another related. To them, it was one big family adventure, and they all seemed to be relishing it. Algar assigned one Elf to each ship, and during calm seas, the men would train. The Elves taught their form of fighting, the Special Forces did the same, and the Marines and Northmen hacked and slashed with the best of them.

After five sunsets, the lead ships neared the passage between Spain and Morocco. Brad stood at the bow acting as lookout, and when he saw Vicki approaching from the corner of his eye, he cringed at the conversation that would soon follow. His tongue seemed to tie-up in knots whenever she approached, and he worried of the stupid things he might say. Vicki is a stunning woman, maybe five foot five, slim physique, and sparkling green eyes. Brad had to concentrate on her words in order to understand her thick Irish accent.

How fare you, Brad D'Manna? she asked.

Good, he started fidgeting with his fingers.

Do you know much about Viking Drakkars? she asked.

Brad nodded, A little, I studied them in school.

Tell me what you know.

Will there be a grade? he asked with a smile, but when she did not return it, he wanted to kick himself.

Brad scratched at the stubble on his chin, Well, he began, since the basics are obvious, I'll tell you what I've noticed. The ship's construction is the clinker design. Its planking is two-centimeter thick oak boards attached together with iron nails. On the original ships, they caulked the spaces between the planks with tarred wool, but it appears you used methods that are more modern. There's support ribbing beneath us that runs from the gunwale to the keel. The sail is made of red dyed wool, and held in place on the center mast with ropes made from walrus hide. The mast is attached directly to the keel… he stopped his narration, You already know all this, so why ask me?

She looked back at the slowly fading land mass, I just wanted to see if you're worthy, she gave him a smile from the corner of her mouth.

Brad just shook his head, and stared out at the waves.

After a few minutes of silence, Vicki spoke, I've watched you fight. You're very good.

Brad did not know what to say, so he just kept his mouth shut.

Will you teach me? she asked.

He nodded his head yes, and after about a minute, realized she still waited for him to answer. Yes, he said.

She turned toward him, smiling. Good, she responded, and walked back toward the Helm.

Brad scratched his head while trying to calm his racing heart. He had over a month to kill on this stupid ship, and he would rather launch himself overboard than act like a lost child whenever the beautiful captain approached.

Nick, on the other hand, did not fair as well. Motion sickness from the constant waves had him spending most of his days hugging the rails. At night when the rowers went to work, Lindsey would come ‘baby-sit,’ as she liked to say. Nick was too sick to argue, and since she did such a fine job of it, he just relaxed and let her take over. Lindsey did most of the talking, and although she had a thick accent, Nick managed to follow along and generally enjoyed the company. His only consolation through the affair was the wonderful warmth that now radiated through his body. Since everyone but the Elves remained cold, this earned him some extra special attention from Lindsey when it became time for sleep. Although nothing sexually took place between them, Lindsey would use his body as her personal heating blanket, plastering herself against him. It was an interesting arrangement, Nick thought, but with how he was feeling, he was glad for the company.

Once the ships passed the Pillars separating the Mediteranium and the Atlantic oceans, their whole world changed. Nick was seasick before, now he thought he was going to die. Although the flexibility of the ships helped them to ride the waves, they really did a lousy job of it. When the rough weather came, the ships felt like roller coasters. His brother hated roller coasters with a passion. Nick, however, loved them, and that fact made his sickness all the more perplexing. He used to pride himself on having a stomach of iron, but for some reason, it now felt like rusted tin.

After the first couple of days in the Atlantic, the seas quieted and the soldiers, Northman, and elves stretched and sparred. Nick started to get his stomach back under control and participated in a few sparring matches, but his fortune did not last. By the end of the second week, a massive storm swept over them. The waves grew to gigantic heights, the winds howled, and men and elves hung-on for their lives. Prior to the storms approach, they removed and secured the central mast. This turned out to be a wise decision; otherwise, many ships would have been lost.

The storm raged for hours, and to the ships enhabitants, it felt like days. Lindsey secured herself next to Nick, and she fared much better than he did. Nick was still feeling weak from his excessive motion sickness and this storm caused more upheaval for him. He was glad everyone else was too preoccupied to notice him puking all over himself, and even more so that the rain and waves washed his vomit away.

When the storm finally abated, not one ship was lost, but word spread that some American soldiers washed overboard. There was nothing anyone could do to help, and as the ships sailed in tight formation, Nick ordered a roll call. He was relieved to see his brother still on Vicki's ship, and from the look on Brad's face, the feeling was mutual. Overall, five Marines had been lost during the raging storm. Fellow Marines etched their names on spare dogtags so their loved ones knew of their sacrafice. Nobody wanted an MIA tag next to their name, and Nick was glad his entire unit treated one another like family. It was going to take a Herculean effort to overcome the odds, and he needed every one of his men to be looking out for one another. It was their only chance for survival.

Legends

Thirty thousand answered the call, and they came streaming to the valley floor. They wore black, brown, tan, white, and every color between. Some stood taller than others did, while others had thicker legs, and all had their winter coats to ward off the frigid air.

The Clan viewed the gathering from a ledge not far away, and they watched as the air filled with their combined smoky breath. They called to the flock from high up on the ledge, and the leader of the group jumped up and waved in response.

Once rested and ready, the Clan led their friends from land to land, calling upon the Elders to declare their best. The Elders knew what was required, and thirty thousand more joined the call.

The two became one marching across the plains, and their passing awed the people who glanced.

Jonathan Blackclaw, replete in his headdress of gold eagle feathers, led the nation. He looked ancient by human standards, but his mind remained young and his reflexes still quick as a cat.

They traveled north and east, and came from the west and south, and they followed the Clan that has been here from the start.

And, through it all, they spread the tale of evils current route.

They have prepared for this day, training hard for the part. They hoped their best was good from the start.

People watched as they galloped the plains; the Horse Lords were back and eager to fight for the King.

McJeeves

Jason McJeeves, Captain Jesse Johnson, the horses, Sprinkles and the rest of the Sled Dogs, spent the night in Antioch Illinois once they made good on their escape from the hungry people in Milwaukee. Since the Milwaukeeans stole their sleigh, blankets, food, and everything else they had in their possession, and because they no longer have the warmth from the Big Foots infusing their bodies, the night turned out to be grueling as the frigid air once again seeped into their bones. The dogs provided some warmth as they lay their bodies together within an old abandoned building. McJeeves found some dry wood to burn, and although he and Johnson harboured fear that it may bring more attention than they cared to have, the men had no choice. They could find no food anywhere as every store was picked clean, but they had water and could tough it out another day. Luckily, the night passed without incident, and after spending two and a half months hurrying to Chicago, they were eager to get back on the road.

As McJeeves and Johnson approached Waukegan Illinois, they saw quite a bit of activity amongst the population. To McJeeves, it looked like an evacuation, and Captain Johnson confirmed the feeling. He and the Captain cautiously approached a family trying to trudge along through the snowy roads with all their worldy possessions. The family, bundled from head to toe in layered clothing, eyed them warily as their horses approached.

Hi folks, McJeeves greeted. What's going on here?

The tallest of the men, whom McJeeves took to be the father, looked them over before answering, There's an army coming, and the King ordered everyone to the city. The man then looked more closely at the Captains army jacket, Word is he's looking for any military in the area.

King? Captain Johnson asked perplexed.

The man nodded his head, That's what the Elves call him. The King wants everyone to get downtown so we can use the river for protection.

Elves? McJeeves asked.

The man smiled while nodding, Didn't believe it myself 'til I saw one with my own eyes. It's some strange times happening.

McJeeves nodded. He scanned over the man's meagor belongings. The children looked old enough to care for themselves, so he and Captain Johnson waved their goodbyes and watched as the family kept walking down the snow covered road.

Elves, McJeeves? Captain Johnson asked.

Hey Jess, after fighting little freaks with sticks, and getting kissed by a talking Big Foot, I'm not surprised in the least.

Johnson nodded in agreement, What do you think he meant by, King?

McJeeves shrugged his shoulders, kicking the horse to go. If lucky, they would make downtown Chicago before dark.

The closer they came to the city, the more people they passed on the roads, and the more traffic they encountered. It was not your ordinary traffic of cars and trucks, but horses, cows, donkeys, some steer, and anything else capable, pulling makeshift wagons full of all kinds of interesting stuff. They saw some chickens in crates, pigs tied to the backs of wagons, ducks, you name it and they saw it. It was an amazing sight for modern times America.

Most of the people they passed gave them odd looks. After all, two people with four horses and fifteen dogs were not normal around these parts, even under current circumstances. They approached one wagon pulled by a couple of cows. Two uniformed police officers helped to keep the cows moving through the snow. The Policemen eyed them as they approached.

Officers, McJeeves said, nodding his head in greeting.

The uniformed men looked them over without answering.

McJeeves asked, Can you tell us what's happening?

There's a war coming, one officer replied. Everyone's been called to the city. Where you from?

Alaska, McJeeves responded, and that brought a surprised look onto the officer's face.

The officer glanced up at Captain Johnson, The President has ordered all military to report ASAP. From what we hear, the invaders aren’t far away.

President? McJeeves asked, What's with all the talk about a King?

The officer smiled, That's just what the Elves call him, and now most of the people have picked-up on it, he scratched his face in thought, The President is the King and vise-versa; he's downtown near Buckingham Fountain. They're segregating the population and training people to fight.

Thanks, officers, McJeeves responded. He and Captain Johnson guided their horse’s reigns to turn. When the officer called to them, McJeeves spun his horse back around.

If you gentleman don't mind, we could really use the extra horses.

Both he and the Captain nodded, and gave over the reins.

Much obliged, gentlemen, the officer said. Just make a note of this with the Procurement and Appropriations Committee, and when this whole mess is done with, you'll be compensated for your contributions.

What? Johnson asked perplexed.

The officer looked at them very seriously, The president has ordered that meticulous records be kept of what is taken, from where and whom, and how much. He wants everything accounted for so compensation can flow to the affected people and businesses. Otherwise, it would all be stealing, and that's against the law, gentlemen.

McJeeves cautiously smiled at the seriousness of the officer, Consider it a gift, officer, our gift to humanity.

Suit yourself, buddy, it's up to you.

McJeeves and the Captain waved, and with their two remaining horses and fifteen dogs, road-off toward the city.

McJeeves had the unfortunate experience of driving during Chicago's infamous rush hour traffic, but that was a walk in the park compared to this. People, animals, makeshift wagons, and God knows what else, clogged the roads and every space between. It was an unbelievably frustrating experience, and their only consolation was that people finally heeded the alarms of danger. He and the Captain just spent over two months warning people that would not listen, and even with how frustrated they were with the slow progress they made, they were happy. His only concern was how the President planned to keep all these people safe in downtown Chicago. Granted, he might be able to make some semblance of an army out of them, but McJeeves knew the size of the invading force, and it would sweep this mass of humanity away within weeks.

Once they exited the Kennedy expressway onto Jackson, the flow of people picked-up, as did everyone's spirit. They made steady progress past Jefferson, Clinton, and Canal, and as they approached the river, the Presidents plan came into focus for them. The bridges toward the North all stood in their upright position along the river, and as they looked to the south, the Van Buren Street Bridge slowly rose into the air. He and the Captain were shocked to see three Elephants with harnesses, pulling the mechanical bridge upright.

He's going to use the river as a moat, McJeeves.

Yes he is, Jason responded, Look up there! McJeeves pointed toward the gigantic black building.

Captain Johnson strained his neck to look upward. He had never been to Chicago before and this was his first glimpse of the Willis Tower in person. There're people up there, Jason.

Yeah, they're using it as a look-out tower. This could actually work, Captain.

God, I hope so. It'll at least buy us time, Johnson replied.

There're some men over there on horses, Mcjeeves pointed to the other side of the river. Let's ask them if they can point us toward the President.

Due to the metal grid surface on the bridge, they had to maneuver the horses and dogs toward the sidewalks. Since most of the animal traffic concentrated in this area, it once again forced them to a crawl. They walked behind a large cart pulled by a team of donkeys, and the men steering it had a hard time getting the animals to keep moving. Apparently, the donkeys were a little unsettled by the river and the height of the bridge. Workers from the other side of the river came over, and after they placed bags over the animal's head, they were able to guide them the rest of the way. This event afforded McJeeves an opportunity to make-out all the fencing material loaded on the wagon. Once they reached the opposite end of the bridge, a team of people inspected the wagon, and documented the items; they gave the drivers directions, and told them to take their wares to the Eighteenth Street wall project.

Captain Johnson scanned the area and again thought the plan could work. Numerous people were in place helping the newly arrived, directing them to parts of the city. It looked to him like a very well organized operation, and very few people walked around confused. He heard a woman screaming hysterically, and when he finally located the source, he understood why. Army personnel escorted her two teenage boys toward a different part of the city. Obviously, they are segregating men and women of fighting age, and although he understood the mother's pain, he knew it was the right choice. As it now stood, the invaders drastically outnumbered this city population, and everyone would have to contribute if they had any hope of survival.

You two look like military, one of the bridge coordinators commented.

Yes Ma'am, Captain Johnson answered.

The coordinators looked over their horses and dogs, and again documented their findings. Proceed to Soldier Field, gentlemen. Here's a map, it was crudely drawn on a piece of paper, but legible, there're officers in place who'll direct you once you get there.

McJeeves began to say something else, but the coordinators already moved past them to the next wagon. McJeeves waved for the Captain to follow, and he rode up to the horsemen he observed earlier. As he approached, McJeeves called to the three men on horseback. When they turned to face him, both McJeeves and the Captain nearly fell from their mounts in surprise.

So, that's what an Elf looks like, the Captain mumbled to McJeeves.

McJeeves just nodded his head. One of the the elves spoke, and the thick British accent caught McJeeves off guard. The Elf repeated itself, Warriors report to the Soldier Field.

McJeeves was stunned, Wher…where can we find the President?

They watched as the Elf thing cocked its head to the side. The guy was gorgeous, McJeeves thought.

The King, and McJeeves noted how the Elf emphasized the word, is at the human dwelling of art. Are you acquainted? the Elf asked.

McJeeves nodded, I'm his personal servant from Alaska.

The Elf looked him and the Captain up and down, then looked over the dogs. He then stared at McJeeves for what seemed like hours, but in reality, took only a minute or two, Follow and I shall lead.

McJeeves started to respond, but the Elf already turned around and started his horse at a canter. He and the Captain did likewise, and they made quick time through the city. As they traveled down Jackson Drive, he and the Captain noted how organized the inner city was. People were being ushered into buildings here and there, materials from wagons were being unloaded and loaded, and everyone, although cold, seemed to be lending a hand with everything. The coordination and cooperation were stunning in its efficiency.

Well, I'm impressed, McJeeves stated as he turned, smiling at the Captain.

Johnson smiled back, Very. With all these buildings, millions can be housed, he replied.

The Elf stopped his horse at the Chicago Art Institute, dismounted, and motioned for them to wait.

Whom shall I say requests an audience? the Elf asked.

McJeeves and the Captain dismounted, and both marveled at the Lions that stood in their watchful pose, Please tell him, General Jason McJeeves.

The Elf spun on his heals and marched up the stairs. McJeeves and the Captain took a seat on the worn steps, and waited. The dogs gathered around them in protective stances. They must have made quite a sight as numerous people stopped to stare.

D'Manna

D'Manna, before the Elf had a chance to finish his statement, sprinted through the halls of the Art Institute with his agents scrambling to keep up.

Within minutes, the President bolted through the front entrance, Jason! he said as he descended the steps.

Mr. President, McJeeves responded, and held out his hand in greeting.

The President grabbed it in a hearty shake, then looked down at the dogs, Who's your friends?

Jason McJeeves smiled, It's a long story, sir.

The President ushered them up the steps and into the wonderful warmth of the building. He seemed a little surprised when the dogs ran thru his legs, but said nothing, and waved someone away who was about to complain. Jason smiled as he, Captain Johnson, and fifteen dogs followed the leader of the free world.

As they walked through the ancient building, Jason noted the sporadic wood burning stoves placed here and there and the tubing used to funnel the smoke out windows and doors. The President led them to the right of the centrally located staircase and down a long hall toward the rear of the building. The armor and ancient artifacts on display reminded Jason of the little creatures with spears he encountered in the Alaskan wilderness. If they had to fight that type of battle, some of this stuff would come in handy.

They passed ancient looking Egyptian, Greek, and Roman artifacts, crossed through what appeared to be an old stock trading room, then entered an area that looked like a classroom set-up for artist. This room also had wood stoves and was apparently the war room the President used for planning sessions. He saw a large table with numerous maps laid out, many maps taped to the walls, and a whiteboard held numerous notes. One note had asterisks on either side and spelled out '2-4 weeks'. With the emphasis placed around it, Jason assumed that was how much time remained before the invaders arrived.

While everyone took a seat at the table, the dogs sniffed out a place by the stove, piling-up for a cozy nap. The President sat close, and McJeeves noted Jack Wallace and numerous other agents already stationed within the large room.

D'Manna looked over the scraggly looking men, Let me tell you what I know, then you-guys fill in the rest. Okay?

McJeeves and Captain Johnson nodded in agreement.

As D'Manna spun through recent history, Frankie catered steaming plates of stew, bread, hard meat, cheese, and some very flavorful wine. Both men dug in feverishly while the President spoke.

The President showed them maps, went through some of his notes, and as he wound down his version of events, Avera Neclas, and some of the elvin brothers entered the room. Shortly after, Lisa and Laura arrived, followed by numerous members of the President’s makeshift council. They made introductions, asking and answering many questions.

As McJeeves started his narration of events, he noticed the reporter woman taking meticulous notes. Jason spoke of all the events that took place up to when he and the Captain made good on their escape. When he reached the point of the story where he photographed delegates, he slid his malfunctioning camera binoculars down the conference room table toward the President.

Once the power is restored, sir, you'll find some interesting pictures in there.

Lisa Rutz snatched the binoculars away from the Presidents reaching hand, What? she said as D'Manna cocked an eyebrow at her.

I want editing rights, young lady, the President replied. Lisa nodded.

Then it was the Captain's turn to speak, and he narrated his experiences during that same period. The questions came at him in rapid fire, and the Captain competently answered to the best of his knowledge. He revealed the deception of Congress during that critical period, and anger flowed through every person in the room. Lisa wrote feverishly as the Captain spoke, and she stopped trying to hold back her tears.

When the Captain finished his version of events, both he and McJeeves took turns narrating the rest of their story. When they spoke of the size of the invading force, alarm emanated throughout the room. When they spoke of the creatures that attacked them, the Elvin woman drilled them on specifics, and even wanted to know the color of the mist when they disappeared. Both men did not remember. When they spoke of the creatures they encountered in the woods, outright panic almost erupted. They completed their harrowing story up to crossing the bridge, and everyone sat silently as each absorbed the information and processed it through their minds.

Brother, may I speak?

D'Manna looked at Avera and nodded. She was the only Elf that called him brother, as all the others insisted on calling him King. What was even more frustrating was all the people doing the same. No matter how hard he tried to stop that darn title, it just did not work.

Avera stood up and addressed the room, To begin, our western cousins have never had a force the size of which mentioned. I attribute the mass majority of their numbers to some sort of creation, which the Mother is more than capable of producing. The creatures which attacked you humans, she nodded at McJeeves and the Captain, are not Elves. We shall have to learn more in the coming days so we may anticipate counter measures. She looked from face to face, The other creatures of which you speak, are the Bear Clan of the earth. The indigenous humans who roamed these lands used to refer to them as Sasquatch. These are friends of the earth and they maintain the balance of the upper and inner shell. Without them, the earth shall crumble.

Big Foot? Chicago Police Commander Mitchell questioned. You've got to be kidding, right?

Avera just stared.

Commander, D'Manna interjected, I think we all can dispense with the shock at all the new things we're learning. After all, we have Elves sitting within the same room as us and conversing intelligently. I don't believe there's anything else on this planet that can surprise me.

The Commander nodded his head in agreement, and everyone else did likewise.

D'Manna turned toward Avera, What I don't understand, Sister, is during my vision, I saw numerous other races on the earth, and you even spoke of them during your explanation. What happened to them, what happened to their bodies or skeletal remains, why haven't we found any trace of their existence?

Avera smiled, If you could understand them, the Bear Clan could probably answer that question more fully. What we Elves have learned throughout time is; humans are the only race that is not magically attuned to the Earth shell. Much like the behemoths, when a human perishes, their remains fall to the Earth for eternity.

Lisa spoke up, That's the second time I've heard you use that word. What are they, uh, the behemoths I mean?

Avera did not know how to answer the question, so she described