Sons of Chenia

Chapter 13

There are certain moments in life in which the rules of time are susceptible to events in certain spaces. Most people identify these moments in one of two ways. The first being the acceleration of time, most often happening when people enjoy themselves so much that time passes by almost unknowingly, often in terms of several hours. The second involves the slowing down of time, in which an event causes a near constant acknowledgement of time, with people wishing that time would not drag on but rather quicken.

For Nicolai, time seemed to both elongate and quicken. It slowed in that every movement, every decision that Nicolai pondered, felt as though it took minutes to complete. His arms, his legs, which usually moved with the ease and comfort of his youth, now advanced as if he were in a bog. Nicolai was very much aware that he was not carrying on any slower than usual. Yet he could not help but think that each step, every reach of his arm, occurred with less speed than the situation warranted.

This slothful advancement of time was accompanied by a sense that there just was not enough of it. Leo, Fyodor, Petrov and Nicolai all had milliseconds to react before bullets stormed into their small encampment. Nicolai noticed the ammunition as it entered the camp the same way he admired its movements. The bullets streamed in, as hovering insects of uranium and lead, nearly crawling through the air rather than flying. They brushed past leaves and broke through twigs, with neither providing much resistance.

Although he saw them before they closed in, Nicolai was not able to react with any more haste. Just as his friends and the gunfire that threatened them, he too moved in the same way, almost at a leisurely pace. He knew, in the next few moments, that further volleys would be upon them. Where they would come or how often he did not know. But he did realize that something had to be done on his part, to give him and his friends at least a marginal chance of survival.

As he and his friends dove for cover, Nicolai arched his back, stretching out toward the campfire. No sooner had he hit the ground than he scrambled to put out the flames. The dirt clogged the orange light as a dust storm blocks the sun. With the new darkness the firing stopped. For a brief moment all remained suspended.

Nicolai withdrew his hands from the edge of the campfire. Lying on the ground, he cocked his head to search the surrounding forest. Beyond the trees and bushes that surrounded them there was no stirring or rustling of any sort. Nicolai turned to Leo, whose own head turned in all directions as he tried to listen, to pick up any sound. Leo's eyes met Nicolai's stare. Leo shook his head.

They only had a breath, a fraction of a moment, to assess the situation. They were poorly equipped. This they all knew. In his haste, Nicolai had forgotten to pack any weapons or protective gear, despite his recent scuffle with a Czarian thug. Had he known of the impending danger, a quick stop at one of Boris' less reputable contacts would have served them well. Nicolai, on his side, with his back to the forest, looked to his friends' knapsacks, which sat across from him. Two were tightly knotted at the top, so any effort to open them would create too much noise in their newfound silence. The other, lying next to Petrov, was open, it's contents partially spilled out onto the dirt. Nicolai could barely see the items, but he was certain that one was the hilt of a hunting knife.

Nicolai turned back to his friends, hoping that he could mouth to them, urging one to slide over to the bag. But the three of them, in striking unison, were staring off into the forest in the same direction. Leo, who no doubt had heard the slightest of sounds, was the most intense in his gaze, while the Fyodor and Petrov searched in vain to spot the source of the noise.

All of Nicolai's trepidation vanished. His senses became keen as his body developed into the predatory entity it had to become. He sprang from the ground, making an instant beeline for the open knapsack. As he had expected, the object he had spotted was indeed a hunting knife. From there, he dashed into the forest, past his friends, into whatever hellish situation lay before him.