The Fossil Forest

By Steven C. Harbert Jr.

It’s been over three hundred years since the forest had spread across the world. Three hundred years since the moon had been cut by an ancient weapon. Three hundred years since the fall of civilization. Ruins buried in the thick canvas of green paint a long history of human arrogance and atrocity. Chimeras thrive in the harsh forest, and humans are genetically enhanced, but for the crimes against Mother, their abilities come with a price that can be paid only in the weight of their lives.

A devastating attack on their kingdom has ripped unlikely allies from their life-threatening defects of genetic engineering. Led by Marcus and Scott of the Gewehr Walzer territory, the survivors of the Dragonnaire, Boltier and Old Guard territories are cast into the lush world of their ancestors. These common foes with a rich history of war are in search of their advanced adversaries.

Within the ancient forest, these broken, genetically flawed individuals find more questions than answers. Just when the ancient roads are lost in the forest, the group comes across the princess of the Inheritors of the Earth. She offers them salvation for their loyalty and their aid in finding the future of their ancestors’ genetic experimentations. With the possibility of a life without their genetically engineered flaws, will the group persevere through their hard-fought hatred and save themselves and this advanced society? Or will they allow themselves to live as their ancestors created them—meek and unworthy of a future?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jun 19, 2017
• ISBN: 9781524697037

Steven C. Harbert Jr.

Steve is an old soldier, aspiring novelist, mentor, friend, and brother. Still, currently serving the United States Army as an Advisor, living in georgia with family, continuing to write and search for the next dream to accomplish.

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© 2017 Steven C. Harbert Jr. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  10/23/2018

ISBN: 978-1-5246-9704-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-9702-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-9703-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017909396

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Art by Gerard McDermott

CONTENTS

Chapter 1     No Quiet Night

Chapter 2     The Hate among Allies

Chapter 3     Union of Enemies

Chapter 4     Where the Train Stopped

Chapter 5     A Long, Quiet Night

Chapter 6     Farther South

Chapter 7     Ruins of the Gods

Chapter 8     The Answers Lie Ahead

Chapter 9     They Wouldn’t Do That

Chapter 10   Inheritors of the Earth

Chapter 11   Tell Me a Secret

Chapter 12   Jimmy’s Moment

Chapter 13   Feast upon the Night

Chapter 14   A Storm upon the Wind

Chapter 15   The Best of Us

Chapter 16   The Weight of His Soul

Chapter 17   The Oncoming Storm

Author Bio

painting3-GS.jpg

I

dedicate this book to those whom I call family and to Marcos Garcia. Without you, my brother, this would have been just another smokepit story.

We are but a teardrop in the eye of the Universe, and how she weeps so.

—Steven Craig Harbert Jr.

CHAPTER 1

No Quiet Night

D escended Kingdom. This war-ridden fortress spanning nearly half the northern landmass stands the test of time. The world longs for its fragmented history comprising nothing but theory and legend and giving little hope for a life outside its walls to those in this prismatic sanctuary.

The four societies that reside in their illusion of freedom continue to drive on through the generations. Even when the world has been taken back by Mother Earth and her lush forest, they survive. We find a young man on the walkway of the southern gate listening to the cries of genetically enhanced remnants of human ignorance.

The depth of the darkness was sated by the drilling glow of the beams that shone through a rolling sky. As the dark blanket of static-charged clouds broke, the shattered moon cast down its ominous, heavenly brilliance. Fog crawled over the feet of the thick, ancient trees of the dense forest, whose leaves and branches were slapped by heavy drops of rain from a subsiding storm. The cries and calls of creatures echoed in the distance reaching from the vastness of the dark forest.

The fog reached out like a weary ghost from time long forgotten down below the great city walls. Above, the wind howled, screamed, over the fortified walkway between two large towers that stood guard over the heavy wooden gate. Several train tracks leading out of the kingdom, rusted and unused since the war between societies, disappeared under the thick canopy of trees. The old, vine-covered lamps no longer lit its way; rather, they served as grave markers along the old, steel road. Their solace and darkness gave the way into the forest an eerie, desolated look. The thick, dark clouds began to bleed their heavy cries on the land once again beating against the stone walkway around the sentry as he looked off into the dark forest.

Marcus, Scott called out through the rain.

Marcus didn’t hear him; thoughts were racing through his head. He was dressed in a dark-grey hooded poncho, dark-blue military fatigues, and plated boots. His large rifle barrel, the only indication of his readiness to fight, hung past the bottom of his poncho. His slightly tan skin suggested that his ancestors were Latino. His eyes were dark brown, and a few weeks’ worth of dark scruff had grown on his face. He leaned against the stone wall. His hat peeking out just past his hood was beaded with rain as he looked over the kingdom’s many small towns and cities. Lamps and streetlights wound their way to the kingdom’s center. Large lights and burning torches lined the walls. The prattle of gunfire from the nearest town marked another of the countless average evenings. It was a peaceful night, Marcus thought.

Marcus? Scott called again.

Scott emerged from the darkness to join his partner on the wall to stand watch. Marcus was smoking and lost in thought. He didn’t hear the tall man’s calls to him until a heavy hand on his shoulder shook him from his mental prison.

What are you doing out here all by your lonesome, weirdo? the man asked looking at his illuminated watch. We still have ten minutes before we need to relieve those fucks.

The rain stopped. The sky broke with rays of moonlight once again.

Scott Cogwheel was older than Marcus yet strong and intimidating. He was maybe half a foot taller than Marcus. He stood clenching his semiautomatic shotgun as he smoked. The grey carcinogen trailed from his mouth like a ghostly snake. His features illumined by the glow of his cigarette revealed thick, dark eyebrows over thin, dark eyes. His light skin and sharp features suggested a Scandinavian background. He was wearing dark-green pants, plated boots, a thick and heavy gun belt lined with shell carriers, a cleaver knuckle-guarded blade at the small of his back, and a black, waterproof hoodie.

I don’t know, man. I felt like getting out here early and having a moment to myself.

You sure? I’ll go check on the other tower and leave you to your thoughts if you want, brother.

Marcus smiled and stared into the night. No, you’re fine.

All right, brother, Scott replied squinting at his young partner.

Scott produced two cigarettes from his shoulder pocket and handed one to Marcus, who flicked his finished butt over the side. They lit their smokes as they listened to the screams and roars of the night from the forest.

You ever wondered what it was like before all this? Marcus asked.

You ever wonder what’s coming after all this? Scott asked.

They looked at each other and chuckled.

I mean, they had completely different animals, and the food chain was in the humans’ favor. Now, we can’t walk out there without being heavily armed. A basilisk could come from nowhere and fucking eat you. Hell, we’re fucked if a chimera shows up …

Scott’s glance cut through the night. Marcus caught himself immediately. Sorry, brother. I know you ran into one back during the War of Ascension.

Scott said nothing. He gazed out into the jungle taking a long drag from his cigarette before flicking it over the side. I’ll check on the other tower. I’ll be right back.

Scott walked with almost a sway in his step feeling definitively older than he should have as he made his way down the old brick and stone pathway on top of the great wall.

Hey, brother! Marcus yelled to Scott.

Yeah?

Wanna get drunk after this?

As we should, but … aren’t we already drunk? Scott gestured and shrugged.

Oh yeah. Marcus laughed.

A subtle whining as if a turbine was powering up caught their attention. Marcus picked his rifle up under his wet poncho spraying rain drops. His rifle stopped lined with his sight and ready to engage. He searched for the origin of the noise. His eyes raked back and forth as he glided toward the wall overlooking the forest. He was sure the noise was coming from the forest. Scott picked his weapon up slightly as he peered over the wall into the forest, his eyes the only thing moving with haste as he combed the foot of the large trees.

Boss, this is tower one. Our thermals just went white. You see anything out there? Over.

Tower one, we got some humming noise, tower two, status. Over, Scott replied.

Tower two, yeah, we have the same shit as one. Thermals are white. Whatever the hell it is, it’s burning out our sights. Night vis has nothing. Motion sensors are picking up normal patterns of life. Want us to send some lume?

Scott squinted trying as hard as he could to see into the forest. Yeah, send one from you and tower one, base of the tree line. Light her up.

This is tower one, roger.

Tower two, roger.

Scott and Marcus waited as the towers prepared to fire. The massive, multibarreled cannon rotated with heavy clunks as they locked into position.

Prepare for shot. Over.

Scott, clearly irritated, called over the net, Just shoot the motherfuckers and call up to post and have a mobile crew on standby.

Before anyone could reply, a red beam of intense heat fired out of the darkness of the forest. The thin, burning light drew a line from the base of the second tower to the first tower. The beam was gone just as quickly as it appeared. Scott and Marcus looked down, and radio chatter came over their net garbled until it statically cut out. The wooden gate caught fire. The stone started to glow brighter and brighter and turned into bubbling, molten form. Scott reached for Marcus. The gate and towers exploded along the molten trace of the beam. The towers folded forward and fell. The door blew in. Marcus and Scott were sent through the air only to slam into the wet grass as debris fell around them.

Scott picked himself up from the heavy indent he had just made with his head, back, and whatever else decided to hit the ground when he landed. The sound of engines, turbine in nature, sophisticated and clean running, quietly hummed over the noise of hardening molten rock and the blaze of fire from the gate that lay in pieces spread over several hundred meters. Alarms sounded all over the kingdom. Scott heard them over each other faintly as the old loudspeaker systems were off timing due to the ancient cables connecting them.

This is not a test, multiple attacks on fortified walls, Dragonnaires, Old Guard, Boltier, and Gewehr Walzer territories have been affected. War posture now in effect. War posture now in effect.

The message continued with breaks between sentences as air raid sirens screamed into the rapidly illuminating cities and towns.

What in the fuck? Scott grunted.

He was covered in mud. Angrily wiping his hood back, he lifted his shotgun. He turned to see the damage caused by the beam; the gun creaked and swung in his hand. The towers’ rubble reached toward the forest like arms reaching out to embrace Mother once again. Sparks from the fire destroying the remains of the door looked like stars scattered across the sky. Scott drew in air as he clutched his weapon. The shotgun pulled apart, and shells sprang from the tube into the mud in heavy plops. A grin split his face as he tossed both pieces of his broken weapon lazily into a puddle. Marcus grunted and moaned exaggeratedly as he got up to a knee and leaned on his rifle.

What the fuck was that? Marcus asked.

I have a feeling we’re about to find out real soon, Scott said as he looked around.

In the glow of the fire, silhouettes of almost mirages appeared bending the dull dancing light around them.

Impossible! Marcus whispered.

Scott said nothing. He leaned forward and widened his stance.

The rain began to pick up again.

You good? Scott asked jokingly.

Marcus shifted his gaze to Scott. I’ll survive, he said and gave a weary thumbs-up.

Then get up, you lazy fuck.

Marcus got to his feet and checked the chamber of his big-bore rifle.

The mirages before them seemed to short out as the rain fell harder. Their images were clear as they walked toward Scott and Marcus. There were seven; the smallest one, in the middle, was facing Scott. Two were to Scott’s right, and two were to Marcus’s left.

The hexagonal pattern flashes of images out of place from the forest behind them flickered occasionally. The rain was affecting their ability to cloak. They all have sophisticated weaponry long since forgotten. Sidearms. Heavy battle belts with a winch-style system. A small cylinder possessing the power source for the cloaking suits they were wearing.

These defenses are amateur. A child could have gotten through here without a problem, a woman—based on the sound of her voice—said to the others.

Your orders? We don’t have much time. We’ll have to feed again if we want to continue, Your Highness, another female replied.

Before the leader could answer, a male based on the tone of his growling, deep voice, asked, How can we be sure? They’re the same species. Regardless of what uniform they wear, we cannot leave them alive. Or we can take them with us. They could be useful in many other ways.

The small one in the middle said, Ha! Kill them both now! What we came here for is in the north.

Before any of the hooded figures could pick their weapons up, Scott and Marcus fired with razor-sharp accuracy and blinding fire rates. They emptied their weapons in a second only to realize that not one of their rounds had found its target; they had shattered in midair having hit something unseen. The area around each of the individuals standing before Marcus and Scott had blurred slightly.

In-fucking-possible! Scott spouted as he reloaded his under-barrel revolvers.

Marcus fired again moving faster than humanly possible and slid to a stop behind some rubble.

Scott walked out in front of the group.

My lady, these men are not normal. They are much more formidable than the last species we encountered.

Take them with us. These are Gewehr Walzers. They could be useful, the leader ordered in a tone of astonishment.

Before any of them moved, Marcus opened fire, his magazine dropping to the ground. He was already reloading his third. The shells flipped and tumbled away as he dumped magazine after magazine of accurate, blinding fire into each of the hooded figures.

Scott appeared right in front of the leader. One of the flanking soldiers stepped into Scott’s way. The world seemed to slow down as the group attempted to react, but they were far too slow. Scott head-butted the male who attempted to block him. The soldier buckled, slamming into the rubble and sending small pieces of stone in all directions between Scott and the leader. Scott’s under-barrel revolver was pressed against the head of the hooded figure, who was unconscious. He trained his second revolver on the closest one to his left. His dark eyes slid up making contact with hers. Once they had met, he saw two beautiful, glowing orange eyes, wide slits for pupils dilated to see in the dark.

Scott said nothing. She had anger, fear, and determination in her eyes. Marcus ran out of magazines and drew his two 1911 frame pistols and began firing rapidly. The leader stepped forward and kicked Scott square in the chest launching him upward several meters. He fired rapidly as he rocketed away. The rounds bounced off the blurring sphere. He landed digging into the wet grass with his heavy boots. She met him with a heavy right hook. He took it as if it were nothing. Before she knew it, his strong hand was gripping her throat.

The rest of the hooded figures rushed to her aid. Two broke away from the group firing machine-guns at Marcus and pinning him down. Marcus tossed a grenade right where the two were headed. The grenade exploded, but their shields blocked the blast.

What the fuck are these assholes? Marcus spouted as he ran to another position.

Scott backhanded one of the attackers, whose body flipped once, twice, and finally bounced off the ground rolling to a stop in the mud. The next met Scott’s heavy boot in the chest sending the attacker violently across the field. Scott blocked a wild haymaker from another flanking him, but the leader broke free of his grip. Scott confronted a soldier attempting to attack from behind. Scott’s hands disappeared flickering into several body shots and finally a palm strike to the chest of the would-be attacker. The unlucky fool, launched from Scott’s heavy attack, caught the corner of a long slab of stone and flipped over the remains of the wall. The screams ended when the soldier hit the ground on the other side.

The leader, the only one left standing, circled Scott like a predator. Scott pulled his blade from the large leather sheath belted to the small of his back. Its D-guard handle protected his knuckles. Its long, cleaver-style blade made him look like a butcher. She charged thrusting. His hands blurred striking but once and shattering his blade into pieces. She leaped back several meters, and he looked at his blade with surprise. A thud between his legs caught his attention. He saw something that looked like a grenade, but he did not recognize the design. He kicked it away, and the grenade exploded in midair several meters away.

He continued moving toward her. She signaled one of the others, but Scott paid no mind. She, the leader, was his target. She drew her pistol and fired rapidly to no avail. Scott weaved in and out of every shot fading from her sight. Before she knew it, Scott backhanded the weapon from her grip. She grabbed him by his hood and rolled back kicking upward and tossing him like a rag doll. He landed hard on his back and rolled onto his stomach. He was on his feet ripping the ground up with his movements. He slid as he cocked back for a heavy palm strike to her chest. She blocked it with her arms. The sound of heavy meat hitting bone smacked as he sent her tumbling across the field into a pile of rubble. She let out a painful moan.

Scott landed on her pinning her down and looking into her eyes. Her teeth were grinding as she fought with all her might to push him off. Her skin was green scales with brilliant blue markings. Her teeth were sharp and white as could be. A barrel was pressed to the top of his head. The shaking weapon caught his attention. His eyes met the red eyes of the other female, panting heavily. Her red eyes were burning with desperation and the need to protect.

Let’s see you dodge this, you vile beast, the soldier angrily proclaimed. She fired. Scott flickered, and his image was gone. He was gone. He was seen sliding backward like a dog digging into the ground on all fours. The red-eyed soldier picked up their leader, and they began to run.

Marcus fired again, his rounds sparking off their invisible shields. Scott took off kicking up mud and patches of wet grass. The two chasing Marcus spotted him. One pulled open a small, cylindrical tube, and sights sprung up. He took aim. The sound of the heavy hammer igniting the engine echoed. The motor roared, and the rocket shot at Marcus landing in front of him on the other side of his cover. The explosion sent him flying into the rubble. He bounced off and landed hard in front of Scott. Scott slid to a stop as he tore up the ground from digging in.

The adversaries put something in the rubble. Its blue lights counted down rapidly. Scott quickly moved to Marcus and kicked him in the stomach sending him skipping across the wet grass like a stone across water. Marcus rolled to a stop still unconscious several hundred meters away.

She looked back. Their eyes met. She disappeared. The rain stopped. The device exploded. Scott took the brunt of the shock wave. He hit the ground unconscious as he tumbled, rolled, and slammed into some of the stone remains.

The sun climbed ever so slightly into the morning and pushed the darkness over the horizon.

Hey. Hey!

The voice was familiar to Marcus.

Wake the fuck up! A loud slap.

Marcus shot up grunting. His eyes squinted in the pain from the sun beating against his face. I’m up! I’m up!

The medic was still slapping him just for enjoyment. He blocked with no help of his senses. The young medic was laughing and still trying to smack him playfully.

Another medic with short hair was sitting next to Scott. She was smoking a cigarette while perched on a large piece of wall debris. Scott opened his eyes and with much pain got to his feet. With squinting eyes, he looked around as he leaned against the large stone. She handed him a cigarette and a rather large vial of a green-glowing liquid. She lit his cigarette.

You guys got fucked up last night.

He glared at her. I’ve never seen anything with eyes like that. I swore I saw scales too. Whatever she was, she wasn’t human. Not even like any chimeras we’ve seen, not a known species to me anyway. He took a pull from the vial.

She replied, They beat you, so they’re something we can’t take lightly. In fact, the King’s Guard is here. She pointed.

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