the flat of the blade against her forehead, she closed her eyes and muttered a prayer for the salvation of all their souls.
As she stood up, Vlad rumbled, "There is little you can do to make this ground more hallowed; their blood has done so already."
That sparked something in her memory, something from her childhood. "Didn't Abraham Lincoln say something similar?"
"Yes, My Master. 'In a larger sense, we can not dedicate, we can not consecrate, we can not hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract.' If memory serves."
Yes, that was it. "I believe the rest of it went, 'It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us--that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion--that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain.' I can never think of those words without feeling a catch in my throat and a shiver up my back."
"He summed up in only ten sentences what volumes of historical essays could not."
"True. I know now what I want to with this land."
"Oh? I had thought you would rebuild your home."
"No. My home is gone; instead, let it be their home, for eternity."
"A memorial?" He sounded rather cynical.
She turned around, willing Caliburn away, and stared him in the eyes. "Why not? Only, no monuments will erected, not even tombstones. We'll leave it like a sunken warship, holding the dead as it is reclaimed by nature, its sacredness its shield from exploitation."
"Perhaps it is not so maudlin a notion as I had first thought."
"Do you think they would have approved? The Girls I mean."
"They were simple folk at heart, with little interest in grandeur and ostentation. Yes, I believe they would be pleased. Only, be sure to throw them a party in their honor. They would love a wild sendoff."
Differel chuckled, feeling lighthearted for the first time since that day. "Yes, of course."
She placed her hand in her jacket pocket and felt Sunny's glasses. Removing them, she considered keeping them as an heirloom, but thought better of it. She needed no keepsakes of Eile and Sunny; they dwelled in her heart with Victor. Instead, she placed them on the slab over the cross. She took a couple of steps backward, came to attention, and saluted.
"Good bye, my best, my dearest friends."
She lowered her arm and gazed at the glasses for another few moments, before turning around.
"Very well, let's head back to London. I have a celebration to plan."
Grinning in genuine amusement, Vlad bowed. "As you wish, My Master."
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For more information on Eile and Sunny, Team Girl, see the official site [https://www.teamgirlforever.com/].
For more information on Sir Differel Van Helsing and the Caerleon Order, see the official site [https://www.sir-differel.com/].
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Bonus Story: Sauna Mates
"Thanks for inviting us to help break in your new sauna!" Sunny squealed.
Differel opened her eyes and gazed at her in a languid fashion. Despite the dim interior she could make her out lying supine on the end bench, while Eile sat on the side bench next to her feet. She absently rubbed her partner's lower leg and ankle, and Differel had no doubt that had they been alone they would have lain intertwined, locked in a passionate full body embrace.
She bent forward long enough to sprinkle water over the rocks in the heater, and then leaned back against the wood paneled wall. It was a Finnish-style sauna, with very low humidity to accommodate heat as high as the boiling point of water to encourage perspiration and water condensation on their skin. "My pleasure. I know how much you two like this sort of thing."
"Ya know, yer a lot less stiff than ya used ta be," Eile said.
She rolled her head along the wall to look at her. "How do you mean?"
"Well, only a few years ago you were too much of a prude to be naked with us." In fact, all they wore were towels over their heads to keep their hair from drying out and protect their scalps from overheating.
She smiled as she rolled her head back to face forward. "Your bohemian elan must have rubbed off on me."
"Yeah, right." She grinned as Eile snorted.
"Hey, Differe," Sunny said, "have you ever thought about getting married again?"
"I'm already married."
"Yeah, to a dead guy," Eile said.
She frowned. "Technically, Victor's not dead."
"No, he's just in yer dreams. We mean a real man, one of flesh and blood."
She raised her head and stared at them. "If I ever got that desperate, I'd just look up Sweets again."
"EEEEWWWWWWW!!!!!!" Sunny sat up and leaned forward as if she was about to be sick at any moment.
Eile flashed an expression that mixed shock, outrage, and disgust. "Geezus, Diff! You wanus ta upchuck all over ourselves?"
Sunny managed to recover without causing a mishap and straightened up. "We're not talking about sex, but companionship! Don't you ever get lonely?"
She scowled. "How the bloody hell can I be lonely with you two slags hanging around me all the time?"
"Besides, why would she need a man when she has me?"
Her mind skipped a track as she snapped her head around to the left. Vlad sat on the short bench beside the door, grinning like a feral hound, and naked except for his broad-brimmed hat.
"AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" Eile and Sunny went into convulsions as they tried to cover their eyes and their private parts at the same time.
She felt furious, and Caliburn appeared in her hand. "You bloodsucking wanker, get the bloody hell out before I cut out your heart!!"
He tipped his hat and winked as he disappeared in a cloud of shadow.
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About the Author
Kevin L. O'Brien was born with a pen in his hand.
Well, not quite, but he has been writing for as long as he can remember, at least since First Grade. Writing has always been his first, true love, but it hasn't always been his career. He worked for 15 years as a biomedical researcher, then for 3 years as a web designer. However, after 30 years of trying to be published in print with little success, he has decided to try his hand at self-publishing. Most of his works will be sold as ebooks through various online retailers, but he also plans to make some available for free exclusively on Goodreads.
He writes primarily speculative fiction--fantasy, science fiction, horror, and their sub-genres--but he also likes to try his hand at thrillers, suspense, mystery, and even westerns. However, his stories tend to have a fantasy element, no matter how subtle.
Most of his stories involve the following three main characters:
Medb hErenn [https://www.medbherenn.com/]--One-time queen of Ireland, she is over 3500 years old. A warrior and a sorceress, she cannot be harmed by any weapon made by the hand of man.
Eile and Sunny, Team Girl [https://www.teamgirlforever.com/]--They are two adorable, vivacious, fun-loving young women whose motto is ONWARD TO ADVENTURE!!! Yet trouble follows them like a love-sick puppy wherever they go.
Sir Differel Van Helsing [https://www.sir-differel.com/]--The descendent of Abraham Van Helsing and King Arthur, she heads the Caerleon Order, the premier monster-hunting organization of the United Kingdom and the Commonwealth. She commands Dracula, the most powerful vampire extant, and the greatsword Caliburn, better known as Excalibur.
He also writes a series of sword & sorcery stories set in an alternative universe known as the Lands of the Dreams of Men.
Kevin lives in Denver with his family and 4 cats.
For more information, see his website, Songs of the Seanchai.
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Discover other titles by Kevin L
. O'Brien:
A fidus Aranea, Adventurer's Honeymoon, Barbarians R Us, The Beast of Exmoor, The Christmas Vampires, Dark Vengeance, A Deliberation of Morality, The Denver Walker, Desperate Acts, Disposable Commodities, Do Unto Others, Far-Sight, Feline Savior, Felis ex Machina, Fun 'n' Games, The Golden Mushroom, Gourmand Hag, Gratuitous Crossover, Gruff Tolls, Immanuel, In an Octopus's Garden, Inseparable, Jigsaw Dragon, The Lions of Inganok, Man Friday, Masie's Mind, No Torrent Like Greed, Oak Do Hate, One-Percenter Vendetta, The Peril Gem, Post-Traumatic Redemption, The Price of Folly, Pride and Fall, Pyrrhic Victory, Redshirt, Rhapsody in Orange, The Road to Hell, Sacrificial Offering, Shenanigans, The Steel Gazelle, The Surrogate, The Temple of Ubasti, A Typical Friday Night
Enjoy these other titles at fine ebook retailers everywhere.
Available on Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/story/list/20075368
The Differential Damsel, Dribble & Maggot in the Land of Dreams, A Little Hospitality, We Deliver, Youthful Indiscretion
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Connect with Kevin L. O'Brien Online:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/KLOB_writer
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kevin.l.obrien.1
Website: https://www.seanchaisongs.com/
DeviantArt: https://teamgirl-differel.deviantart.com/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/Kevin_L_OBrien
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Sample Excerpts
From "The Denver Walker"
Seven F-15E Strike Eagles flew in a diamond wedge formation over eastern Colorado. They had departed Buckley Airforce Base in Aurora where they were temporarily stationed. They were headed due east towards the Kansas border, and their intended target. Each was armed with eight AIM-120 AMRAAM medium range air-to-air missiles, modified to deliver fragmentation warheads, and an AIM-54 Phoenix long range air-to-air missile, as well as their standard 20 mm M61A1 gatling guns.
Approximately fifteen minutes behind them followed a single A-6E Intruder attack aircraft. It carried a single BGM-109 Tomahawk Land Attack Missile under its fuselage with a special warhead. The pilot was Lt. Col. Eile Chica. Her squadron, which included the Eagles, had been transferred from California a week before just for that mission. Their target was the Walker, which was on a direct course for Denver, and if not stopped would arrive in twelve hours. Where it went, nothing was left in its wake.
Eile's mind wandered as she zoned out the monotonous task of straight, level flight. She recalled the briefing she and her people had been given when they first arrived. Approximately nine months ago, a meteorite crashed into the ocean a couple of miles off the eastern seaboard of the United States. Though it had been a large one and had caused some flooding along the Atlantic coast, nothing more was thought about it.
Six months later, the Walker came ashore off New York City. Though it gleamed as if made of metal or plastic, it had a smooth, organic shape, with no obvious seams or joints. It consisted of a bulbous, misshapen body, like a russet potato, with numerous feathered and branched appendages. It stood and walked on three spindly legs. The surface of the body was featureless except for what looked like a single, blood-red eye covering about one-sixth the surface area. Except that instead of being used for seeing, it fired a disintegrator beam that could reduce anything to plasma in an instant. It destroyed everything in its path, leaving nothing but bare rock and a layer of dust.
The devastation caught everyone by surprise. All attempts to communicate with it went unanswered, though whether it simply ignored them or was unable to understand them no one could say. It travelled in a straight line, cutting a swath through the heart of the city twenty miles wide. The military responded immediately, but few weapons could get past its formidable defenses. Of those that did, most were destroyed by the disintegrator beam. The rest either couldn't penetrate the skin or only damaged the appendages, which grew back in a very short time. One aircraft that made a kamikaze run did succeed in damaging the body, but it too quickly regenerated.
From New York it continued cross-country, devastating Pittsburgh, Columbus, Indianapolis, St. Louis, and everything in between. Outside of Kansas City, the President finally authorized the use of nuclear weapons. He had been reluctant, for fear of civilian casualties, but he finally decided he had no choice; nothing else seemed to work. A cruise missile carrying a one megaton warhead detonated a mile above the Walker, well out of reach of its defenses. The shockwave smashed it into the ground, and the heat bloom seared and melted it. It seemed to be finished, and a research team was put together to study what was left. It took them a day to arrive, and they found the Walker not only intact, but nearly operational. It annihilated the team and went on to destroy Kansas City before continuing on towards Denver. The town of Hays had been wiped out just the day before.
The radio crackled. "Flight leader, Eagle flight, we have visual contact with target. ETA now fifteen minutes."
"Eagle flight, flight leader, we copy," Eile replied. She glanced at her navigator-bombardier. Maj. Sonne Hiver nodded back. "Confirm fifteen minute ETA. You are cleared to arm. I repeat, you are cleared to arm."
"Wilco, flight leader. Eagle flight out."
"Almost there," Eile remarked.
Maj. Hiver, whose callsign was Sunny, nodded again. "Ten beers says we won't get the bastard until after the first run."
Eile grinned, though Sunny couldn't see it as it was hidden by her flight mask. "Yer on, sucker."
Sunny giggled. Eile reflected, not for the first time, how odd she was. Surprisingly silly and girly for a serving Air Force officer, she was nonetheless the best navigator in the service. She had been transferred to Eile's squadron just a year before, and she proved her worth on her first mission. Eile assigned her to her own Intruder because she wanted the best by her side. She had an almost intuitive grasp of navigation, and was able to calculate even complex targeting equations in her head. Since she joined the team, the squadron's mission success rate had jumped a hundred and fifty percent.
Now she needed her even more than ever. The consensus among the think tank eggheads was that the Walker was a berserker, a machine designed to kill and destroy. They speculated that it had been developed either as a doomsday weapon or as a way to eliminate possible interstellar threats and potential competition. They couldn't say whether its appearance had been a random landing or a targeted strike, but they estimated that just one Walker could clear the continents of all life in a year.
Fortunately, there was hope. A salvage mission by the Navy managed to recover material from the ocean floor that they believed came from the Walker after it crash-landed. That was confirmed by comparing it to material recovered from the nuclear detonation site. Analysis of the material revealed that its structure was built and maintained by nanotech robots no bigger than bacteria, which explained how it was able to repair itself even after being blasted by a nuclear bomb. Somehow, a group of scientists managed to reprogram a collection of nanobots to demolish the Walker's substance rather than rebuild it. Those had been packed into a warhead installed in the Tomahawk they carried. It was hoped that when the missile struck the Walker the nanobots would be released on impact and would destroy it. It was a gamble; no one knew if it would work, or how long it would take, though the principle had been proven using the recovered material. But gamble or not, it was their best hope. If it failed, their only remaining option was to try to make a direct hit with a ten megaton bomb, but there were those who didn't believe it would work.
The radio broke into Eile's thoughts. "Flight leader, Eagle flight, ETA five minutes."
"Eagle flight, flight leader, roger, cleared to engage, repeat, cleared to engage."
"Wilco, flight leader. Out."
"They're getting into position," Sunny reported.
Eile couldn't see it, they were still too far away, but she imagined the Eagles breaking formation to reassemble into a vertical rosette. Six planes would form a ring around the seventh, creatin
g a large face from which to fire a massed salvo. It was necessary to break through the Walker's defenses.
It had only a two-layer barrier, but it was formidable. The first layer consisted of a field of aerial mines called Poppers. About the size of a softball, they floated in a torus around the Walker. Though only one Popper occupied a cubic meter, the field was made up of multiple staggered layers that closed all gaps. They exploded on contact, but the thickness of the field ensured that even a missile was likely to hit at least one while trying to penetrate, and no aircraft had ever made it through unscathed. Despite their size, they packed a wallop; just one could destroy a fighter, and three or four could bring down a bomber.
Experience had shown that only when enough Poppers had been destroyed could aircraft get through the field; the magic number was eighty-five percent. Military analysts had also discovered that it wasn't necessary to attack the whole field. Once a Popper was placed, it stayed in its place until destroyed. Hence, if a section of the field could be reduced to 15% intact or less, aircraft could make it through. The vertical rosette was designed to accomplish this. When they got close enough, they would fire their fragmentary AMRAAMs, and with any luck they would blow a hole through the field.
After that came the second layer, a ring of satellites each the size of a weather balloon. They were called the String of Pearls because each satellite was a featureless, smooth, pearly white ball. If anything got past the Poppers, the Pearls would emit an electromagnetic pulse that would fry all semi-conductor circuits in range, effectively disabling any electrical and computer system. The Eagles were specifically hardened against the EMP, as was her Intruder. Hopefully they would survive long enough to take out the nearest Pearls with their Phoenixes. That would clear the way for the Intruder to make its bombing run against the Walker.
But regardless of the success of the mission, the Eagles were not expected to survive. Eile had made participation in the mission strictly voluntary, but she had been made proud when all her pilots volunteered. Those that were flying with her now were chosen by lots, except their leader.
"Flight leader, Eagle flight, in position, standing by. Three minutes to contact."
"Eagle flight, flight leader, roger."
"Flight leader, target acquired. Pickles going hot. Two minutes to contact."
"Eagle flight, copy. Fire at will, repeat, fire at will."
"Wilco, flight leader. Ninety seconds to contact. Fox three."
"First salvo away," Sunny reported.
Eile waited anxiously for the results.
"Popper field 98% intact," Sunny reported.
"Flight leader, sixty seconds to contact, fox three."
"Second salvo away." Pause. "Popper field 95% intact."
"Shit, this isn't working! Eagle flight, fire all