Heretical Edge

Cuba, 1898

The sound of boots stomping through thick, wet mud while the rain poured down from above filled the air. The Cuba jungle was never hospitable to outsiders, even at the best of times. And these times were far from the best. The soldiers moving through this dark, wet, foreboding place could not lie to themselves or each other. There was no other way to look at it. They were retreating. And retreat was just something none of them had any real taste for, least of all their leader.

"We need to take a stand, Colonel!" One of the officers called out what they were all thinking. In the haze of rain and darkness, it was hard to say which of them had even said it. But they all would have agreed. Marching back through the same jungle they'd fought so hard to cross in the first place, this time in the middle of the night while the storm raged around them and the enemy picked them off from all sides, was something cowards would do. And none of them were cowards. They wanted to fight. Even knowing how easily the enemy had been killing them, they still wanted to fight. It was better to stand and take their chances than cower and flee in the rain.

"Aye!" The leader they were all looking to, Teddy Roosevelt himself, called back over the roar of that heavy rain. "We'll all take our stand when we have something real to stand on that won't give out right from underneath us! You all know me better than to think I'm tucking tail and running for Mama's skirt! Stay with me, boys! We'll fight when we have a real chance to win, not just to throw our lives away for no purpose other than to satisfy our own damn fool pride! When the time comes, we'll raise our arms and show these bastards American grit."

The next bit he added in a whisper that was swept away by the sound of the rain. But that was okay. The words weren't meant for the rest of his men. They were mostly meant for himself, and one other, whose hearing wasn't as limited as most. "I just hope this place you're sending us is as good as you say, Atherby, cuz we ain't gonna make it any further than that."

In all honesty, everyone involved in this had known it would be a miracle for them to reach their destination with their unit even relatively intact, from the moment the plan had been conceived in the first place. But these people, the ones around him, were accustomed to pulling off miracles.

Though they would be best known as the Rough Riders, the 1st United States Volunteer Calvary had also been given the nickname of Wood's Weary Walkers, after their initial commander, Leonard Wood. They were called that because, despite literally being recruited for their horsemanship, the actual horses themselves weren't sent down there with them, so the unit actually had to act as infantry during their deployment in Cuba for the Spanish-American war.

Theodore Roosevelt, originally a lieutenant colonel at the time, had been second in command of the group until Wood had been put in charge of the entire second cavalry brigade. The subsequent promotion to full colonel, and leader of the Rough Riders, had seemed like it would be a very short tenure indeed. With the way those damned Spaniards were coming out of the jungle at all hours, never giving them a moment's rest, Roosevelt and his men had been all but certain that they wouldn't last much longer. But they'd also been certain they would take as many down with them as they could. They had been ready to stay right where they were to make their last stand.

But then Joshua Atherby had shown up. As far as the other Rough Riders were concerned, he was just another soldier from a different division. For Roosevelt, however, Atherby had revealed himself to be far more than that. Just as he had revealed this very war to be more, and far worse, than it appeared. He did something to remove the blinders from Teddy's mind. He removed what those people called the Bystander Effect, allowing the man to see and remember the full truth about everything that was going on in this godforsaken jungle. Truth that left him physically and violently ill.

Part of that truth was that the Rough Riders had not actually come down here without their horses. That was just what the Bystanders thought. The reality was a bit more complicated and far more terrifying, not only when it came to who both sides were actually fighting in the war, but also why they didn't have their horses. Because the truth was that they had had them at first. But their real enemies, the monsters that came out of the jungle, had turned the horses against them. The very mounts they rode so well had been transformed into such nightmares that the Bystander Effect had rewritten any mundane memories to believe they had never brought the horses at all. Those nightmares had killed several of their people, and maimed others before the soldiers were able to put the abominations down. Those were memories he really could have done without.

So, Roosevelt knew the truth now. He knew that their real enemies in this jungle weren't the Spaniards. They and the Spanish were all being hunted by things that were right out of the worst nightmares anyone could imagine. The real monsters chasing them through this jungle seemed to have crawled right out of hell itself, possibly because it was too damned afraid to hold them.

Fomorians. That was what Atherby called them. Well, technically, he'd said the vast majority weren't true Fomorians, just the mindless abominations they created. True Fomorians, even just a few of them, would annihilate their entire army at once. Even their foul creations alone were more than enough to wipe out Teddy and every last one of his men. They didn't stand a chance.

Or, they hadn't. But that might change. They might be able to shift the odds on that. But only if they made it to the rendezvous point that Atherby had pointed him to. And the only way Teddy was going to get his people that far without every last one of them being massacred by those creatures was if the Fomorian creations continued to think they had their prey on the run. As long as those monsters believed that the Rough Riders didn't stand a chance and had no idea what they were up against, they would keep toying with them. They would keep dragging this whole thing out. But the second they realized their quarry was actually moving toward something that could actually, possibly, give them a chance, they would quickly stop playing and start the real slaughter.

Teddy couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let his men end up like the people in those villages Atherby had shown him. He liked to think of himself as fairly unshakable, but what he had seen in those places would stay in his nightmares forever. Even if it meant upsetting his people by making them think they were retreating with nowhere to go, he would do whatever it took to ensure they never suffered that fate. All they had to do was make it to the place Joshua had told him about without tipping their hand. And right now, the best way to make sure that didn't happen was by letting his people go ahead and keep thinking they were retreating, so their pursuers would think the same. He'd take the reputation hit if it meant his men might actually get through this alive.

He was a proud man. He didn't have any problem admitting that. In almost any other case, he would have bristled at the mere thought of leading his men away like this. But he'd seen what happened to those villages. Joshua had made him lay under what he called an invisibility blanket to watch those creatures and see what they were capable of just to impress the full extent of the danger upon him.

So, Teddy knew the only chance his people had was if they reached the rendezvous, where Joshua had promised to have a way they could fight back that wouldn't be completely useless. His original point had been to try to convince Teddy to retreat entirely and allow his own people to fight them. But, on a hunch, Teddy had asked if his people actually had the numbers to fight these things properly, and he had admitted they didn't. The Rough Riders might not have had the ability to hurt the things, but they had skill and determination. They just needed a little help in the firepower department. And firepower was exactly what they were heading for now.

With one gloved hand bracing himself against a wet tree, Teddy stood and looked back as the line of beleaguered men gradually worked its way up and past him. He gave the troops whatever encouraging words he could, but had no idea how effective they actually were. His men didn't know the full truth of course. They couldn't. Even if he tried to tell them, they wouldn't remember. Joshua couldn't break the Bystander Effect on all of them. But even if they didn't know the full situation, they didn't need to in order to recognize just how bad the situation was. There had been a bit of discussion among some about splitting up and fleeing in all directions so their pursuers couldn't catch all of them. Teddy had put a stop to that talk damn quick. That was worse than the ones who talked about standing and fighting. At least that he could understand. But the idea of abandoning one another, of making it every man for himself, that was more alien than the monsters pursuing them.

Even then, even with his reputation and what he believed was one of the best damn speeches he'd ever given to convince the men to stay together and see this through, there were still a few who were missing. He had no idea if they had decided to strike out on their own anyway, or if they had been straggling a bit and ended up getting picked off by those monsters. Honestly, the effect was probably the same regardless. They would never be seen again.

He was pushing them hard, too hard, he knew that. They were running on little sleep, and what sleep they had wasn't exactly restful. It wasn't as though those monsters had to rest. They toyed with them all night, picking at their defenses and making the sort of noises he was certain could only originate from hell itself. They could have overwhelmed the camps at any point, but they liked taunting and playing with their prey. And that idea, of being helpless prey, riled Teddy's anger enough that he had taken several shots at the creatures in the dead of night himself. It didn't matter that the weapon did nothing to them. He just had to show them that his people weren't cowards.

Ignoring his weak knees as they tried to go out from under him when the wave of exhaustion returned, Teddy forced himself to continue standing tall and proud. He would not allow his men to see him falter, not now when they themselves were right on the cusp of losing all hope. Just a little further. He knew they were close. He'd seen the signs, and had heard a whisper in his ear now and then from Joshua's secret messengers. They were so damn close. Just a little further, and they would--

He was in the midst of those thoughts when a cry went up from the men at the front of the line. There was a waterfall and a wide river leading away from that. For the men, that was good news because it meant they had fresh water. For Teddy, it was a joyous occasion. The waterfall. That was where they were heading. That was where they needed to be. It was the rendezvous point. They'd made it. They were right there. It was almost time to turn the tables on those bastards.

With a smile that the men would believe stemmed merely from his own gratitude for being able to quench his thirst, Teddy waved the rest of the troops onward. He called out orders for the officers to lead everyone up to the waterfall, to set up camp around the base of it in order to fill their canteens and catch their breath. But damned if he couldn't keep the eagerness out of his voice. Finally, fucking finally, they were going to give these bastards what they deserved.

It didn't take long to set up the perimeter. This really was a decent place for it. He had men up on top of the waterfall with a good view of the surrounding area, and some hasty fortifications all around. His men were accustomed to this sort of thing by now. They couldn't have known that this time was going to be much different than the others. This time, they were going to make a much better showing of themselves, by God.

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Sitting in his command tent while he listened to the hustle and bustle of food being prepped outside, Teddy lit a cigar and leaned back in his seat. He puffed a couple times before speaking casually. "How many times did you have to save our asses back there?"

There was the slightest pause before a camp stool nearby was tugged out as Joshua Atherby appeared and sat down with a sigh. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with a full head of dark, curly hair that fell to his shoulders. "More than you'd really like to know, less than I expected. Your men are good, Colonel. They're damn good. If they weren't in this sort of impossible situation, they'd have those things on the run. I'd be proud to have any one of them fight by my side. I'm sorry about the ones who were taken. My people did our best to cover you, but we aren't perfect."

Bowing his head a little with a deep sigh, Teddy gave a deep pull on his cigar and blew out smoke while lamenting any thought he'd had about the men who had disappeared possibly running away on their own. He chided himself for even entertaining the idea, then let it go for now. They didn't have time for him to indulge in that sort of unhelpful bullshit.

Instead, the man looked at Joshua and asked, "Speaking of fighting by your side, tell me this is the right place, and you've had the time you needed for your people to make it work. If this turns out to be the wrong damn waterfall…"

Joshua shook his head quickly. "You're in the right place, and we're ready. You remember what I said about all this?"

Teddy grunted at that, squinting that way. "You making sure I was listening, that I haven't been replaced or suffered some crippling head injury, or just making sure that Bystander Effect of yours hasn't started working again?"

Joshua met his gaze evenly and replied, "All of the above. Believe me, in this life, anything could happen."

Muttering something under his breath about that being the damn truth, Teddy took a breath before reciting the plan. "You said this water right here around the falls has got something special about it. Nothing you'd be able to tell by drinking it or bathing in it. But any weapons submerged in the stuff long enough pick up some special traits. You never know what it's going to do, and it's different with all of them. But it gives the weapons certain powers. Powers that are gonna let them hurt those devils out there." He took another puff from his cigar before asking, "And you're sure it won't scare my people into throwing the damn weapons away or anything?"

Joshua shook his head easily. "As far as your men are concerned, they're just very good shots all of a sudden. They won't see any of the extra stuff. Or at least, they won't remember it. They won't stick in their heads. The water here flows over the bones of one of what we call Primals. Ancient beings who lived here millions of years ago, with their own incredible powers. We don't know who this one was, or what he could do when he was alive, but his bones empower the water, and the water empowers your weapons."

There was a lot Teddy wanted to say to that, a lot he wanted to ask. But in the end, he decided he probably wasn't ready for the answers. So, he just offered a shrug. "I suppose I'd best get to telling my men all about how they need to wash their guns real thorough-like. Hell, most of them already think I've lost my mind in one way or another, might as well finish the job."

Joshua chuckled a little before raising a hand to stop him. "Don't worry, you've done more than enough already. I have a better idea than forcing you to tell your men to give their weapons a bath. Just hold one moment."

Both men sat there in silence for a few seconds. Then Teddy heard a cry go up from the men. He started to lunge to his feet, but Joshua put a hand on his arm and gave him a reassuring look. A second later, something hit the side of the tent and nearly knocked it over. It was like a massive wave had slammed into it. Water came seeping in through the sides, and the top almost collapsed. The men were shouting about the wind or a freak storm.

Joshua offered him a slightly apologetic smile. "Sorry, just a quick tidal wave from the river right there. I made sure to avoid your food supplies. That should soak your weapons enough to make them useful. And it was already raining, so your men shouldn't question it too much. They'll just chalk it up to jungles being awful."

He was right, of course. As Teddy pushed his way out of the tent and surveyed the area, he saw the men working to pick up their own collapsed tents, retrieve the weapons from where they had been hurled by the force of the wave, and even picking themselves up off the ground in a few cases. It was too bad that special water wouldn't work to give humans powers, because his men were soaked through enough that he was pretty sure they would have become gods. Not that they hadn't already been wet from the rain, but still. They all looked like drowned rats now.

Quickly taking charge, Teddy made a show of organizing his men and getting them to line up all the guns together. He didn't want them running off with the weapons and drying them before that special water had a chance to soak all the way in. So, he made them waste time by setting all the guns out on the ground to take a full count, ostensibly to make sure they weren't missing any.

There they were, almost a thousand guns for that same number of men. Men who were watching him for orders while their guns lay in the dirt getting wetter by the moment. It was probably a good thing he hadn't actually had to tell them to put the guns in the river, because that might have been a step too far even for a man with his reputation. They were already looking at him like they weren't sure he had all his marbles.

Ignoring that, he ordered the men to start passing out the weapons. Again, he said nothing about drying them off. If this was a normal situation, he would have immediately ordered all the ammunition separated out and the guns stripped in order to be carefully dried by any bit of cloth that could be found inside their packs and bags that weren't completely soaked through. Instead, he ordered the weapons and ammunition to be distributed, knowing that the chaos of passing out the guns right after they had just been lined up along the ground would let them soak up that water even more.

Even with his reputation, even given the sheer level of respect that his men had for him, they were starting to protest. They wouldn't go along with this if he dragged out actually taking care of the guns much longer. But he managed to convince them, with a few quick words, that they had to get those guns back in play before their pursuers, 'the Spaniards,' took advantage. Every man could dry his weapon on his own once he had it back.

God, he hoped that was long enough for the water to do its thing, because even knowing the truth about the situation like he did, he still felt like a damn fool. His own officers had to be considering the idea that he'd lost his mind or developed some sort of fever.

Still, even then, he would have welcomed a full inquisition from all of his people over what actually came next. Namely, a shout from several of the lookouts about incoming threats. Teddy couldn't even allow himself a moment of gratitude that what had previously looked like he'd lost all sense now appeared to be near-genius premonition. If the enemy had attacked while their guns were stripped down and being dried, they would've been slaughtered like pigs at a roast. At least this way, as far as the men were concerned, there was only the chance that their guns would be useless, rather than a certainty.

But none of that mattered, now wasn't the time for thinking. Now was the time for action. And by God, if Joshua was right and these weapons worked the way they were supposed to, they might actually stand a chance against these monsters for the first time since they walked into this damned jungle.

Grabbing three rifles off the ground that hadn't been passed out yet, Teddy bellowed orders for the men to take up arms and show these bastards what American fury felt like. To the right and slightly ahead, he saw one of the beasts themselves come charging out of the treeline. To him, with the Bystander Effect removed, it was a giant, twelve-foot tall bear with rotting skin, six arms, and a head and mouth like a crocodile. He had no idea what his men were seeing. A man on a horse? Whatever it was, cries of alarm went up, even as three of them took aim.

Since the moment they had first been attacked by these creatures, their weapons had been all but entirely useless. As far as the men were concerned, they simply missed far too much. Or the body armor their attackers wore was too tough. Or any number of excuses the Bystander Effect foisted onto them. Whatever the reasoning, his men's morale had been at an all-time low, with almost nothing they tried ever actually working to put their pursuers down. Sure, they had killed a few with what amounted to sheer overwhelming firepower, but not nearly enough. Never enough. It took a dozen of them to stop a single threat.

But this time was different. This time, when the first man to pull up his rifle in that desperate move pulled the trigger, it wasn't a bullet that came forth. What erupted from the barrel was a geyser of blue-white flame thirty feet long. The monster was caught in mid-lunge, the fire reducing it to little more than a broken skeleton that fell in pieces to the ground at their feet, the impact itself shattering those remains into dust.

Another beast, this one a mix between a giant spider and some sort of squid (eight legs and eight tentacles) came right behind the first, skittering over the ash remains of its companion. Before it had even registered what was happening, the other two men who had taken aim at the first creature finally pulled their triggers. The first sent forth a bolt of lightning that wrapped itself around the spider-squid, the electricity coursing through it with a crack of thunder that was barely louder than the monster's own scream as its fur and skin was charred. An instant later, a blindingly-bright beam of blue light shot from the other rifle, leaving a three-foot wide hole in the center of the creature's chest.

It fell, breaking, dying, disintegrating. And all around them, the story was similar. Monsters that had stood up against concentrated gunfire from ten men at once were falling to one or two shots from these upgraded weapons.

"What're you waiting for!?" Teddy found himself bellowing as his own men froze in surprise for just a moment. He chucked the two extra rifles he'd grabbed to a couple of them who hadn't yet taken up arms. "Have at them, show them our teeth!"

More gunfire, more bright lights, thunderous explosions, more screams of dying monsters and cheers of triumph as his men finally, finally got to give some of what they'd been taking for so long. The tables had turned. Even if the Bystander Effect meant his men simply thought they were shooting more accurately or something, it didn't matter. What mattered was that they had a chance now.

Seeing his men take the fight to the enemy, hearing their exhilarated cries and fierce screams as they brought down the evil that had doggedly pursued them for so long, Teddy Roosevelt smiled dangerously. His attention was drawn to the side, where he saw Joshua literally punch his fist through one of those monsters, rip the heart free, and toss it aside as the beast fell.

That was when something caught hold of him. Cold hands grabbed Roosevelt from behind, dragging him into the cover of the trees before Joshua or any of his men could see what happened. A tall figure, with a bulbous head, oversized eyes, and grayish-green skin lifted him off the ground with one hand. A hand that closed around his throat. When Theodore tried to bring that rifle up, the creature gave a contemptuous flick of one of its other three arms and sent the weapon flying uselessly into the bushes.

"Youuu," the monster hissed, "think you're a special one? You think you are more than our toys?" It raised one finger to press a sharp nail against his forehead, and began to push inward. "Let me see what is different in your brain, special one. Let me see what--"

There was blackness. First, Theodore thought he'd died, thought the fingernail digging into his forehead had pushed right through to his brain. But he still heard something. A whooshing sound of air, a cry of surprise and fear. He felt the bark of the tree as the grip on his throat disappeared and left him to fall against it, then felt the ground under him as he collapsed.

Then the blackness was gone. His eyes opened to find himself laying in the dirt, with one of his soldiers standing over him, hand extended. "Colonel, are you okay!?" the man shouted over the sound of gunfire nearby. "One of those Spaniards was trying to drag you off. I put him down, but I think you hit your head when he dropped you."

Taking the offered hand with a grunt of confusion and uncertainty, Teddy shook that off as he rose. He'd thought the creature that grabbed him had been one of those True Fomorians Joshua had mentioned, but it must've just been another of their creations, a smarter one. "I'm fine, thanks ahhh… son, your nametag seems to have washed away," Theodore informed him after seeing the blank space on the uniform where it should have been. "I owe you one. Now let's get back to that fight. We've been waiting long enough to give these bastards what they've been asking for."

"It's Donn, Colonel. Jacob Donn," came the response.

"And you're right, I've been waiting for this for a very long time."