Guardian of the Gates

           

  

A loud thud rang through the dark, deserted chamber. Then another rang, and then another, as a crowbar attempted to pry open the massive vault-like door. Bits of dust and rust rained down heavily from the circular frame, bouncing off of the riveted metal floor. There was a long pause, as muffled voices could be heard bickering on the other side. Just then a fire ignited, and the rain of rust and dust was replaced by a spray of sparks and smoke.

Seconds later, the door cracked, sending a creaking echo through the dark. The blowtorch stopped its work, as the heavy door was slowly shoved open, inch by inch. The voices could be heard clearer now, as they wheezed and groaned under the immense weight of the door. Once it was open wide enough, two silhouetted figures stepped through.

They dropped their equipment and raised their goggles. "Are you sure this is where we should be, Pascal? I don't know about all this," one voice said to the other, her breathing belabored by the exhausting work. "Yes, Venda," the other voice replied. "If I knew my sister was going to be so doubtful, I would have asked someone else to help me restart the machine."

"It's not that I'm doubtful, Pascal," Venda defended as the pair stepped further into the dank chamber, "It's just that if the Elders catch us in here--"

"--The Elder's don't know what they're talking about!" snapped Pascal. "We have to do this, or the city will be destroyed." He then flipped on a bright beam of light strapped to his head of messy, chestnut hair. "Now, are you coming, or what?" Venda nodded and the two continued deeper into the chamber.

They crept along a corridor, keeping their eyes peeled for any creatures that may have nested in the dead chest cavity of the massive autonomous machine that was once the proud defender of their city. But that was in the days long before Pascal and his sister were born. They had only ever heard stories of the majesty and strength of the giant metal Guardian. They had also been told stories of when it was decommissioned...

The corridor grew narrower and narrower, and the siblings found themselves crawling now, through a massive tube. It felt as if they were traveling through an artery--and indeed they were. Just then Venda spoke up. "Why did the Elders ever shut the Guardian down, Pascal?" He paused for a moment and looked back, careful not to blind his sister with his headlamp. "You don't know?" He asked, puzzled. "The Monsters just went away one day. We didn't need the machine anymore."

"So we just threw it out?" Venda asked. Pascal shrugged. "Yup."

The two were closing in on the first heart chamber now, when they heard a rustling. Something quickly shuffled across the rusty metal floor. Its movement too quick for them to catch a glimpse of. "What was that?" Venda blurted with a start. "I don't know," answered Pascal, "but I don't want to find out. We must hurry. Move!"

The two crawled faster and faster, until they came to the end of the tunnel. Pascal jumped out first, his boots kicking up plumes of dust upon landing. He helped his sister down into the first heart chamber, and they rushed together toward the series of pipes and valves that would, if operated correctly, activate the Guardian for the first time in two generations--Or so they hoped. They continued running through the deceptively large room.

They were only a few feet away, when Venda stopped short. "Look!" She shouted, pointing in front of them, toward the controls that resembled a huge boiler room now. Pascal stopped as well, his feet scuffing across the floor. Access to the boiler had been blocked by an impenetrable tangle of roots and leaves. "Of course," shouted Pascal, his voice echoing off of the iron walls. "The tree. How could I be so stupid. The elders planted this tree in the chest of the Guardian to keep it grounded. The roots have penetrated the heart. This is hopeless. How stupid of me."

At that second, they could hear the shuffling of feet again. They could hear it quickly traveling around the room, avoiding their lights. "Who's out there?" blurted Venda as she pulled a heavy crowbar from her backpack. "Show yourself!" Silence. The shuffling had stopped. Pascal took out a small knife to defend himself as well. The two stood in the darkness a moment--poised to fight--before slowly heading back the way they came in.

That's when the room filled with the horrible grating buzz of an electric saw. The sound was getting closer, louder now. The two picked up their pace, and began a sprint toward the tunnel. As they attempted to hop back up and out of the chamber, Pascal caught a glimpse of a grey-haired figure, walking now toward the roots that surrounded the heart of the machine. Pascal grasped Venda by the arm and pointed to what he was witnessing. The figure began to cut away at the roots; clearing, and chopping. Making a perfect entrance into the control room. Then the saw stopped. and a voice called out. "Come, children!" It shouted. "We haven't much time!"

Pascal and Venda hopped down and returned to the center of the room, where a lantern hung now in the control area. Shadows were bouncing around the room. It was hard to make out who had helped them. But as they grew even closer, they eyed a familiar--and friendly face.

"Grandfather!" squealed Venda as she dove into his arms. The old man threw down the power saw and embraced her. Pascal moved in as well, speaking as he did. "But Grandfather," he said, "you're on the Elder Council. They'll disown you if they ever find out." His grandfather hushed him and shook his head, saying: "None of that will matter if our city is destroyed by the Monsters. They're at the city gates now. Our defenses have fallen. There is only one hope."

"The Gaurdian," rasped Pascal. The old man nodded, and released them. Together, the three headed for the control chamber and when inside, the two children followed their grandfather's instructions, turning valves and pulling levers. Finally, the old man blew the generations of dust off of the massive red leather chair that sat in the middle of the room. "Just one last thing to do, children," the old man said as he cleared his throat and took a seat. "We must start the boiler."

With a dash, Pascal and Venda were already shovelling coal into the boiler from tall heaps that sat nearby, undisturbed until now. Finally, with the pull of a huge brass lever, the Gaurdian began to awaken. "Sit down and strap in, children." The old man called loudly over the roar of steam and fire and creaking machinery, "We've got a city to save!"

Author's Note

As always, all criticisms welcome. If you notice any grammatical issues, or you think it's crap, or if you actually like it, please let me know in the comments. And be sure to check out my other submissions, too!

Reviews

[Andrew Leister-Frazier]

Reading your work is more than entertaining. It inspires me to write.

[Michale Rune]

This was a fun short piece to read. To me it seems that you tamped down the characterization to play up the intensity of the action. The reveal of the grandfather was a nice way to tie the characters together and avoid lengthy subplots that would eventually lead to the same conclusion. The only comment that I would make on the negative criticism side is that I was expecting a bigger twist and a more rewarding conclusion. I hope that at some point you revisit this world you have created and that we can get the Guardian fighting the shady and mysterious monsters. In my opinion if you finished with a scene of the Guardian standing up, that this would make a great short film. Liked your story a lot. Really smooth story telling. Best Wishes.
-Rune

[Tomahawk Joe]

I like this piece it's perfectly descriptive and thrilling enough to hold the reader's attention.