The Forsaken Crypts

Home > Other > The Forsaken Crypts > Page 25
The Forsaken Crypts Page 25

by Terry C. Simpson


  Heat pressed down upon him. Frost wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. Licking saltiness from his lips, he kept The Stunner aimed and ready.

  Frost stretched his Echolocation to its full range as they made their way through the jungle, but he picked up no alarming forms or movement. The majority of the other players had surged toward Apur’s eastern entrance while his group had headed south. Saba had Concealed and gone ahead to scout.

  Occasionally, they encountered mauled carcasses or corpses. In other spots, they discovered signs of battle. Rent earth. Scorched trees and broken branches. Slices in tree trunks. Blood spatters on undergrowth or staining the ground.

  They also found bones. Skeletons. Those were usually accompanied by clothing, armor, or packs. Things that suggested the remains belonged to a player. They found nothing of value, a sign someone had already looted the dead.

  Gilda’s condition worried Frost. She hadn’t spoken in some time. Her attention was always riveted on the northwest, to the spires of Apur glimpsed through the canopy. The black around the splotches had spread, consuming the gray. He wanted to ask her how she was doing, but at the same time he didn’t want to draw attention to her condition. He felt as if the attention would make it worse.

  Frost raised his hand for the group to halt. Someone or something was moving their way from Apur. It took but a moment for him to recognize Saba’s form.

  She appeared about fifteen feet ahead and walked to meet them, tail swishing. “I found Captain Kazawa.” She pointed to where Frost caught a flash of Apur’s walls through the trees. “He and four others are that way, hiding near a massive tree. There was no sign of the rest of the company.”

  “Take us to them,” Frost ordered.

  “You got it.”

  She led them on a winding route through the jungle. They soon reached an area with dense underbrush and a tree that might take ten men holding hands to encircle. Saba stopped a few dozen feet before the tree, her tail swishing.

  A distortion in the air marked when a Concealed person stepped from behind the tree trunk. The size and shape of the form was that of a gurash. Three others followed, also Concealed.

  Frost aimed The Stunner down at them. “Another move and you four die. Show yourselves.”

  Silence hung heavy on the air.

  “I won’t repeat myself.” Frost caressed the trigger. “And tell your fifth not to do anything stupid, Sergeant Kazawa. Your brother, Yoshino, asked us to find you.”

  Beside Frost, Gilda’s chakrams flared to life. Dante’s color bled from deep crimson to brilliant scarlet.

  But a few seconds passed before the people dropped Concealment. The two women among them wore robes. The men were in armor; one a complete suit of silver, the other a leather brigandine with bronze plates. Emblems of the Coalition’s Mountain and the Aetherstream stood out on their chests.

  The first woman was a deep blue erada with dainty horns. A scepter hung from a loop on her belt.

  The other female was an olive-skinned human, her hair done in a long ponytail threaded with dark wire. The accordion-like surface of a large closed warfan jutted over her right shoulder.

  The men were gurashi, both with dark brown skin. The taller of the two had a shaggy blue mane and biceps like thighs. He held a two-handed greatsword out before him.

  His counterpart sported a red mane done in a massive braid that fell down his back. He carried an axe that matched his height, its butt planted on the ground. His silver armor was dented here and there and soiled from battle.

  “I’m Sergeant Kazawa,” a gruff voice said from above them. Sitting on a thick branch, the green-skinned, green-maned sergeant had an aether cannon aimed at Frost. In one smooth move, he leaped to the ground, landing with graceful ease.

  Objective Complete

  Find the Missing Rescuers

  Found Sergeant Kazawa and his company:

  5000 experience points

  500 Lothal dominion credits

  “Who are you?” Sergeant Kazawa cradled his cannon in his tree trunk arms. He had a hard face and harder eyes.

  “Just a group of adventurers seeking fortune and a cure.” Frost lowered The Stunner. “I’m Lan.” He gestured to his friends, each one in turn. “This is Chaotix, Aximand, Meritus, Blaze, and Neru. As I mentioned before, Yoshino asked us to find you. He’s worried sick and wants you to return.”

  Kazawa shook his green-maned head. “I’ll return when I complete my assignment.”

  “Hey, friend,” Dante said to the sergeant.

  “Greetings, friend.” Kazawa nodded in turn.

  Dante jutted his chin toward the Coalition soldiers. “Yoshino said you had a whole company, but I only see you five. I’m assuming the rest are either hiding or dead.”

  “Dead.” A pained expression contorted the sergeant’s features, softened them.

  “So how do you expect to complete an assignment that a full company couldn’t?”

  The sergeant seemed on the verge of tears, eyes glassy. “I don’t know, but I have to try.” He took a breath, composing himself, before he glanced nervously in Gilda’s direction and looked away. “For my woman, Naora’s sake. She was with an earlier expedition.”

  “You must really love her.” Dante’s lips formed a tight line. “‘Cause it’s very likely she’s dead and you’re going to end up the same way.”

  “If it is Deluth’s wish, then so be it.” Kazawa dipped his head. “But I have to keep trying. I’ve seen the void beasts searching Apur and taking the survivors. And there’s something else out there, too. We never got to see exactly what it was, but it ripped through my men. I-I can’t leave Naora and those people to that fate. A fate worse than death. I can’t leave them to be corrupted.”

  He paused, the wind’s sigh filling that empty moment. “I hate to ask, but will you help me?” Hope shone in his eyes. He nodded to their weapons. “You seem powerful enough to manage.”

  “We are, friend,” Dante said.

  “Then you’ll do it?” Kazawa’s eyes widened with enthusiasm. “Help save the people in Apur?”

  “No prob.” Frost offered the man an encouraging smile.

  IM dinged. Two new quests appeared in The Cure line. One was Rescue The Survivors. The other was Reunited.

  “Thank you. Thank you.” Kazawa dipped his head several times. “While we do this, we must also kill as many void beasts as possible for Senaty.” He indicated the blue-skinned erada. “She’s a mystic and an alchemist. She thinks if she studies them that she’ll be able to concoct a cure.”

  “No prob.” Frost thought it was unlikely but refrained from voicing his opinion.

  Another quest appeared, this one named Void Beasts.

  Senaty sighed and gave a little shake of her head. “It wasn’t my intention to venture this deep into the vale, but I was also trying to talk my best friend out of his mad pursuit of Naora. The others won’t say it, but I’ve told him this was a bad idea.”

  “Over and over again.” Kazawa rolled his eyes.

  “And still, you don’t listen.” Senaty huffed. “You’re allowing your feelings for Naora to get the better of you.”

  “And you’re letting your fear consume you,” Kazawa shot back.

  “We have every reason to be afraid. You saw what the Gray Death did after the last voidstorm. You know how many people we had to kill… to burn in order to slow its spread. It has left western Puria in ruins.” Senaty threw her hands up in frustration. “Bah. I won’t do this again. But I hope this does not end with me saying I told you so. Or with all of us being corrupted… turning into those things.”

  “We won’t.” Kazawa turned back to Frost. “Since we’ll be together for a while yet, let me introduce my other friends.” He pointed to the olive-skinned human. “This is Varia. A windwalker.”


  Varia flung her ponytail over her shoulder and bowed with a flourish, her warfan appearing in her hand. Crafted of lacquered paper attached to wooden ribs with a metal outer cover, the warfan was large enough for her to hide behind. She splayed it open, one arm slotted into the back as if she carried shield.

  “This is Enatsu, our reaver.” Kazawa gestured to the taller of the two brown-skinned gurashi, the one with the unkempt blue mane, bulging biceps, and two-handed greatsword held in one meaty fist. “And Domen, our marauder.”

  Domen leaned his axe’s long haft on his shoulder. He dipped his red-maned head.

  “Your friend is not far from the brink.” Senaty was staring at Gilda. “By the end of the day she will no longer be able to resist whatever draws the corrupted to the Crypts.”

  Frost shot a worried glance in Gilda’s direction. She was looking at Senaty as if the erada mystic didn’t exist.

  “I’ll be fine.” Neither Gilda’s voice nor eyes held life. “My friends will see to that.”

  “I hope so for your sake.” Senaty bowed. She mumbled something else under her breath.

  Frost swore he heard ‘another man with no sense’. And was convinced he was right when Senaty smirked in his direction.

  “Let’s mount up.” Kazawa gestured to his soldiers. He pulled out a whistle and blew. The others copied him.

  But a few moments passed before the underbrush rustled. Three kirins appeared, wisps of electric blue and white energy swirling up from all growths of hair. A drake and a zephyr followed. The beasts made their way to their masters. Kazawa and his people climbed atop their respective mounts.

  Kazawa surveyed them from his kirin’s back, an unruly-looking beast with blue fur, a bushy mane, and long beard. “No matter what happens, we stick to the ground.”

  “Why?” Frost screwed up his face. “Wouldn’t it be that much faster to fly directly to the survivors.”

  Kazawa shook his head. “We made that mistake already. Anything in the air that isn’t corrupted will draw the ire of the flying void beasts once we cross into Apur. That is attention we don’t need. Not in the least.”

  Frost had his doubts, but he acquiesced. “You heard the man. No flying.”

  “Follow me.” Kazawa set off into the jungle.

  They followed him, the air thick with heat and the fetor of detritus. Within minutes, they emerged from the trees before the sprawling city of Apur.

  Wood, clay, or straw homes spread before them. Smoke billowed into the air in distant areas. A breeze carried a whiff of char and the muted sounds of a battle. A wide flag-stoned avenue carved a path ahead. In the distance rose a great limestone pyramid, its triangular peak seeming to touch the gray clouds within which lightning radiated.

  “The Forsaken Crypts,” Kazawa said softly and pointed at the pyramid. His hand shifted to the left to indicate another great structure rising above stone buildings. “The Temple of Jerad. That’s where most of the survivors are hiding.”

  He’d barely said the words when several flyers soared from above the trees and into the city. Ten of them in formation by Frost’s count. Cloaks with guild emblems fluttered out behind the riders. They headed toward the Crypts.

  “Wait.” Kazawa held up a closed fist, his gaze following the flyers.

  Screeches and cries echoed. A roar followed. Over a dozen drakes and various other flying creatures appeared in the sky. Black and silver void energy crackled around them. They swooped toward the players.

  Frost squinted. “Is it me or are there people on those void beasts?”

  “On some, for sure,” Meritus confirmed.

  Blasts of aether shot between the two groups. Whether magic or cannon fire, the attacks boomed.

  Something roared once more, closer this time. The sound sent a chill through Frost. A massive form burst through the lightning-etched clouds, its size and wingspan several times that of the other flying creatures. Frost gaped.

  It was a dragon. Black-scaled. Beautiful and terrifying all at once. Void energy coruscated from its body, spread along its wings. Its roar reverberated. Even from the ground Frost felt its power pressing down on him.

  He found his voice, but it came out in a breathy whisper. “That… that’s a fucking void dragon.”

  “And someone’s riding it.” Meritus’ voice was filled with awe to match that which Frost felt.

  “Epic. Just… epic,” Dante said.

  “No doubt,” Gilda chimed in.

  The void dragon spewed black lightning. Arcs of silver energy shot from its rider. The attacks blasted through the players. They plummeted from the air.

  With a triumphant roar, the void dragon angled upward, its powerful wings beating, and flew into the clouds. The other flying void beasts melted into the sky. Even without being there, Frost knew they had Concealed.

  “That is why I told you not to fly,” Kazawa said.

  “Thank you.” Frost still eyed the clouds through which the void dragon had gone. Lightning flickered. But there was no accompanying thunder.

  “This way.” Kazawa pointed down a side street. “We can avoid clashes with bandits trying to prey on people like us by staying off the main roads. If we run non-stop, we can make the temple before the next void beast wave leaves the Crypts.”

  With that, Kazawa kicked his bolsters, sending his kirin into a lope. His soldiers fell in behind him.

  Frost and the others followed. Kazawa picked up the pace, relying on the shadowy confines to keep them hidden. Armor and weapons jangling, mounts snorting, they galloped whenever they crossed the open space between homes or other streets and lanes.

  They encountered numerous corpses, most displaying hideous wounds, while others were in various states of decay. Most lay where they had fallen, in an open door, against a wall, sprawled or curled on the ground. Others left bloody trails where the wounded had crawled or had been dragged. The fetid stench of blood, offal, and rot hung in the air. Thick. Cloying. Frost tried to ignore it all, but it made his stomach queasy.

  From time to time, the clash of steel, booms of magic, and cries and screams of combatants rose from nearby. As they darted across one street Frost caught a glimpse of a battle several blocks away before edifices blocked his view.

  The buildings changed from wood, clay, or straw to bricks the size of Frost’s torso. The structures were now also multi-storied, some with as many as six or seven floors.

  One thing remained the same. The dead. Carnage. Battle’s bloody aftermath. The closer they got to the temple, the more of it they encountered. Whether it was scorched ground or walls, rents in the earth, burned out buildings smelling of char, or structures that were but so much rubble, the tapestry of destruction was on constant display.

  “Another few blocks.” Kazawa urged his kirin forward, energy crackling from its tufts of hair. “Almost there.”

  The Temple of Jerad towered above the other structures. It seemed so close yet so far.

  Awoooooooooo! A horn blared.

  “Oh, Deluth, no!” The fear in Kazawa’s voice was palpable. “Run! Run! A void beast wave is coming.” He kicked his bolsters violently, propelling his kirin into a full gallop.

  CHAPTER 27

  Seated in her office, Sidrie studied the holo map of New New York. Covering the entire wall, the map had little green, man-shaped icons to indicate patrols, labeled according to whom they belonged. The DeGens were somewhere hiding in the First Ward’s buildings or subway tunnels.

  She was certain of it. No other conclusion made sense. Those were the only habitable places they could go. If living in the utmost squalor among the threat of mutated species could be called habitable.

  Sidrie allowed her gaze to settle on the giant sea wall that followed the coastline. In ways she wished it wasn’t so effective. Or that an overly powerful
superstorm would form. It would flush out the DeGens like the rats they were.

  “They’re always two steps ahead.” Keenan Costace’s gunmetal eyes were focused on the map. “We gotta find out who their inside man is. He’d be able to lead us to them.”

  Sidrie agreed with her security chief. Although the Seven and the city had committed more men, droids, and drones to the Bottom Wards after the incriminating video, they still had not located the main DeGen hideout. Not even after Governor Morrison announced a curfew and restrictions on all activities in the Bottom Wards.

  None of which mattered when it came to the First Ward itself. Neither the government nor the Corps had any control down there. From early on during the curfews, they learned that teams of at least five men were a necessity. Ten, if they were going underground. The DeGens picked off anything less and were always gone by the time reinforcements arrived.

  She wracked her brain, trying to think of a single person in her employ who could be a spy. Anyone who behaved differently, who broke their usual activity patterns. She had everyone monitored. If a person took a piss or sat down for a cup of coffee, she knew about it.

  The logical conclusion for the leak was inside the government. Perhaps, the governor’s office. Or within the NYPD, SDF, or NAIL. The best solution she could devise was to place them under twenty-four-hour surveillance. Their homes, their work, their means of travel. Whatever it took. The task would be simple enough since everyone and every bit of electronics, except for the First Ward, were linked to the Grid.

  And anyone who wasn’t on the Grid? They were immediate suspects. She would see to the necessary arrangements before the day was done.

  Keenan tapped one of the green icons. “Techs made any progress with those hard drives from the data center? We got a face for this Carlson, yet?”

  A holo rose from the icon, a video feed from one of numerous drones. It displayed a ten-man team entering what was once the Kings County Supreme Court, above a collapsed major subway hub.

  “They’re still working on decryption, and we do have a face. I’ll send it to you.” Sidrie projected her intentions to Estella through her many implants rather than speaking aloud.

 

‹ Prev