by D K Girl
Eron broke into a run. The creature was moving towards a secondary elevator, a small unit that was used exclusively by Tamas to come and go from his chambers. The gallu lurched about but maintained a good pace.
Eron focused on the mea, readying to unite the stones. Sending a silent prayer to Lahar that he would recall the training correctly, he reached out. Searched. Found. The Bind leapt across the metaphysical void, rapid as any neurological transmission.
The connection of synapses nearly dropped Eron to his knees. He faltered, gathering himself. Gren had not been wrong. The gallu’s strength was formidable, far more so than the hapless Azrael. And he was not pleased with the renewed Bind. The gallu reached the elevator doors but did not slow, throwing his considerable weight against them. The Telteriun was a dense metal, the carapaces exceeded half a tonne, and the doors were unlikely to withstand the onslaught. In the end, no onslaught was required. In an unfortunate incident of timing, the elevator doors opened. Inside, two bewildered humans, medics judging by the equipment they held before them like shields, cowered against the back wall of the elevator. Eron hauled at the Bind. The resulting pressure within his skull was enormous. His eyes bulged, and the roar against his eardrums was deafening.
There was some result. The gallu did falter, his thick legs buckling for a moment. One of the humans managed to sidestep the staggering gallu and ran out of the elevator. His companion was not so fortunate. A stinging sensation whiplashed through Eron’s mind, and his tenuous hold on the Bind collapsed. Warm liquid filled his nostrils. The gallu stepped into the elevator and grabbed the human, lifting the woman easily and hurling her out into the chamber. Her scream soared into the smoky air, ending a few moments later when she hit the concrete with a crack and thump that spoke of broken bones. Eron took a step towards her, then corrected himself. Admonished himself. She was not his concern.
Standing in the centre of the elevator, the gallu arched its back and made the first sound with its constructed vocal chords. A guttural sound that might have been from a wild animal. Something burst from his back, filling the confines of the space.
Appendages that looked to be wings.
‘By Lahar’s great blessing, what are . . .’ Eron breathed out the words, letting them die on the air unfinished.
The creature twisted, trying to turn and see what protruded from his own back. The wings, tubular lengths of metal alloy, were too big for the confined space. Knife-like points formed each tip and made light work of the innards of the elevator, shredding metal around the creature as he twisted and turned. The gallu launched upwards with breathtaking speed, and half a tonne of Telteriun cannonballed up through the thin ceiling. The wings were the last things to disappear into the elevator shaft.
Eron was about to lose the gallu.
He swore, letting go a stream of Kira’s favourite expletives. The thought of her bolstered him. Not with pleasant recall, but the realisation that this was the very moment he could prove his loyalty, his dedication. Show his worth. To his captain, and his Lord.
Eron let his desperation fill him, let it bloom into something greater and harder. Let it drive the Bind out into the void and lash around the creature that sought to disgrace him. The desperation melted into something dark, buoyed by the many solitary days he’d endured, the banishment and the shame. The disappointment.
Though the gallu was lost from view, Eron sensed the upward motion of the creature as he made his way up the shaft. Eron sought greater purchase, body straining with the effort of increasing his hold on the Bind. His lips were warm and damp, fluid streaming from his nose. But he held fast. The gallu fought, but Eron fought harder.
Slowly, but most definitely surely, the Bind began to drag the creature back down the shaft. And desperation turned to exhilaration. The shade inside Eron grew, an ire that tightened the muscles of his chest. The gallu’s resistance grew weaker with every tightening of the Bind. And with one final sharp tug, Eron wrenched the creature back through the gaping hole he had made in the elevator roof. The heavy humanoid shell hit the floor, his shape indented into the surface. No sign of the curving arches of metal he had borne from his back. Eron stood over the gallu, chest heaving. A lust filled him, a puissant desire to crush any will that remained inside the construct. The Bind bristled with power. His power. Eron curled up his fists, muscles twitching with the urge to lash out. The gallu stared up at him. He lay completely still, with not so much as a twitch of a finger or the rise of chest with breath, but his gaze held Eron. Drew him in. A gleam of intimacy and darkness there in the creature’s eyes. Eron could not look away, did not want to.
‘Eron.’
The captain’s voice was chilled water to the face. Eron stepped away from the gallu with an odd sense of guilt.
‘Sir, I’ve –’
The captain gestured for him to be silent. Eron opened his mouth, angry words ready for expulsion. He immediately checked himself. He’d never spoken a harsh word to the captain’s face, yet here he found himself with a tirade on his tongue. He took another step away from the gallu, refusing to meet the gaze he felt still upon him. The captain was oblivious, listening in on his communicator. Eron searched for his own, pulling it from where it had tangled around the back of his neck. Pushing it to his ear, he heard Blake Beckworth’s voice clear through the device.
‘ . . . all are operational. His levels indicate containment paralysation. Can you confirm?’
The captain glanced at him. Eron nodded, his mood sinking with realisation. He had overblown his own strength in the subjugation. The gallu had not lain so still at his feet for fear of Eron. He had been locked in by the inhibitors.
‘Confirmed.’ Eron entered the conversation. ‘The gallu is subdued.’
‘That’s the final.’ Blake’s robotic voice crackled through the heavy static. ‘All four carapaces now contained.’
She disconnected and the dreadful interference vanished. Eron and the captain stood facing one another. Shouts rang out around them as a team surrounded the burning tech room, subduing the flames with retardants. Blood seeped into Eron’s mouth, his nose still flowing. And strands of his hair stuck to his cheeks. But Eron stood to attention, awaiting his orders.
Captain Nex eyed the fallen gallu, his expression, as always, impossible to decipher.
‘You will Bind with this one until Gren is restored.’
The oxygen rushed from Eron’s lungs, making it difficult to force the words free. ‘Captain, yes, sir. Thank you.’
The captain moved further into the smoke haze, lifting a hand as he disappeared. ‘Look at what surrounds you. It is not a gift, Eron. Do your duty.’
Duty, gift, it didn’t matter. Not in this moment. This blessed moment. Eron wiped at his face, pushing back the sodden silver strands plastered to his cheeks. His smile was impossible to wipe clear, despite the chaotic mess surrounding him.
Gren’s recovery was inevitable. The fortitude granted to the god-soldiers by the Lord Lahar ensured that, but in the interim Eron would work to ensure no doubt remained of his worthiness. Eron crouched down beside the gallu, intending to inform the creature of how they would be the victorious Bind. The pair who brought Dumuzi to their gods.
The utterance died in his throat.
The gallu watched him, eyes filled again with that same gleam of intimacy. A hint of a secret shared. A calling into the sullen, dark depths.
Eron rose to his feet and walked away, quickening his stride as he went.
Kira - 20
The dreams were as boring as they were horrific. Same shit, at least once a week. She was behind the wheel, her hands melted to the leather, skin stuck fast. Unable to pull free when the world-eating tree loomed up ahead.
Kira bolted upright. Catapulting back into the real world. ‘Balls, shit, fuck.’
The air stank with something burning, making her gag. ‘No, no.’ She lunged for the door handle, every muscle in her back jabbing a sharp protest against her spine.
‘Kira.
’ The voice, soft and low and right there, pulled her up. ‘There is no harm.’
A hand on her shoulder. And for the splittiest of split seconds, she imagined it was Eron. He’d been here enough times. Dragging her out of a nightmare. His baby-butt-soft skin pressed against hers till she stopped sweating like a Swede in a sauna. Kira’s fingers traced the tear in the fabric where the handle had been. Remembering how it had come free when she’d decided she’d had enough of the rattling blue Datsun. Her skin wasn’t melted to anything. She was free. Kira swivelled round.
‘Hey, Az. All good.’ Not as pretty as Eron, but eye candy just the same. Kira tucked a couple of wayward curls behind her ear. Shit, she must look like a million dollars. And what the fuck was that smell? They were still in the car, pulled up in a driveway in front of a faded yellow house, and they were the only passengers. ‘Where are the Loony Two?’
Azrael gave her a look, the confused one he still favoured despite now being able to hold coherent conversations.
‘The woman and the kid,’ she said. ‘Leona, Vail, you know, the ones we’ve been in a car with for hours?’
Azrael pointed out the front window. The wooden house was desperate for a paint job, a single-story example of home maintenance gone bad. The roof of the narrow front veranda had more skylights than actual roof. There were lights on inside. One of the front windows was mostly masking-tape strips, with a piece of glass here and there. Silhouetted by the internal lights, a woman with a shock of white hair stared out at them.
‘Oh god, she’s still here. What time is it? Jesus.’ Kira rubbed at her neck. ‘Why are we still in the car? You’re housetrained, didn’t you tell her?’ Kira smiled at her own joke. Azrael did not. No surprises there. He held what looked like a small and very sad bouquet of dead things. Sticks and clearly long-since-picked flowers and grasses. Quite possibly the source of the smell which was making her stomach churn.
‘You were sleeping,’ he said. ‘You did not wake when we arrived. I did not want them to wake you. I have stayed with you.’
Fair enough. Straight to the point. Kira rubbed the sides of her mouth, fingers finding wetness. Great. She’d been drooling. Probably farted too; champagne made her do that. Poor bastard.
‘What’s with the death bouquet?’ It was dark out, not full-on night-time, but getting damn close.
‘Leona asked me to hold this, as I wished to remain with you.’
First-name-basis buddies now. Sweet.
‘She did, huh? Any particular reason? ’Cause I can tell you now that if you’re going to ask me on a date, it’s really not the time.’
Azrael’s confused look returned. The guy managed to look hot as all hell even when he frowned. ‘It is to hide my brightness. I believe she may be able to understand who I am.’
‘Oh fuck, the witchy stuff again.’ Kira sighed. Any hope this was all a part of her bad dreams flew out the window. ‘Tell me there are no frogs’ legs in that pile of crap.’
Maybe decaying frogs’ legs smelled like badly burnt cinnamon buns.
‘No frogs’ legs.’
The voice at the open window made her jerk in her seat. ‘Holy shit, Vail. Don’t sneak up on people unless you want to make them crap themselves.’
It still pissed her off, how her heart didn’t so much as flutter when she got shit-scared or, on the incredibly rare occasion, ran somewhere. Even when waking from the car-crash nightmares, the chunk of metal in her chest just did its silent thing. No beat. No thump. Pumping the blood through her a little faster if need be. But always quiet as death.
‘Sorry. We saw you were awake. Leona sent me out.’ Vail ducked his head, and his heavy blunt fringe fell into his eyes. ‘It’s probably best you come in now.’
Kira’s guts rumbled, punctuating the point. And it was pee-break time again. Jesus, was her bladder the size of a pea? Fucking felt like it. The last stop, at a fast-food joint, had been at least a couple of hours ago. The kid had packed away three double bacon cheeseburgers, fries, and a thick shake. He was a hollow reed, apparently. Kira climbed out of the car, her butt aching and her neck muscles so pissed off it wasn’t funny.
‘How are you feeling?’ Vail asked, puppy-dog eyeing her. Giving a shit about her day, despite the catastrophic way his had turned out. He was either completely fucked up or a goddamn angel.
‘Great. It’s been a great day.’ Probably wanted for murder about now, too. There was that to deal with. Great day. Christ. ‘You? How you doing?’
Did she give a toss? Kinda yeah, which was incredibly annoying. Too much crap going on to care about a kid who looked as though he were out of some cutesy anime. Complete with impossibly sad eyes and a forlorn air of lostness.
‘I’ve had better.’ His voice cracked on the ‘better’, but he offered her a smile. Fake as all hell, but ten points for effort.
‘Yeah, I hear you, kid.’
She needed to get Az back to the Facility. Let Blake deal with this fallout. Dumbest fucking idea ever to let Kira play with her toys.
‘Lead the way.’ She put on a too-bright smile. Surely this house had a land-line. Carrier pigeon, smoke signals. Something. ‘Take us to your leader.’
Inside, the house was almost as cluttered as the car. She edged sideways down the hall to get past piles of random junk; everything from a baby bath to an old vacuum cleaner made the pathway an obstacle course. And the house didn’t smell much better than the car. Wait. No. Correct that. The house smelled far more disgusting. They walked into the kitchen, and the waft of cabbage hit her square in the face.
‘Christ almighty.’ She pressed her sleeve over her mouth and nose. ‘What’s that supposed to do? Ward off anyone with sinuses?’
‘It protects us, you ungrateful girl.’ Leona wiped her hands on a lace-trimmed apron that was yellow as Big Bird. ‘Vera Melsy is pretty OCD with warding her house, but I think we are going to need even more than she has on offer.’
‘Who the hell is Vera?’
‘The woman whose house this is.’ Spoken like Kira was a dickhead for not knowing already.
‘We broke into a house?’
‘Of course not. Stupid girl.’
‘Fuck you.’
‘No thank you,’ Leona replied nonchalantly, as though Kira had just offered her a cup of tea. ‘Vera is a friend, from a long time ago. We were part of the same Rudiment once. She’s also in Mongolia and has left her spare key in the same place for about the last ten years.’
‘Good old Vera.’ Kira slumped into a chair at the dining table in the centre of the room. Both the table and the chair were rickety. ‘Does Vera have a phone?’
‘Who would you call if she did? Your sister?’ Leona opened the pantry, rummaging through its contents and stepping back with a cask of red wine in hand. Kira sent up a silent prayer to the god of grape and grain that it was for her. ‘For years I’ve been telling all the Rudiments the Facility wasn’t right. I’ve been telling people for years. Now, perhaps they will pay attention. I don’t know how you got out of that place, but it might well be the most useful thing you’ve ever done, Kira Beckworth.’
Okay. Forget the red. Kira stood up. They knew who she was, where she and Azrael were from. They had followed her to the Wheel and Barrow, then somehow followed her to the casino. She had gotten in a car with them and driven to god knows where. It suddenly all felt like a really, really fucking stupid idea.
‘Thank you for the compliment,’ Kira said. ‘That means so much coming from a crazy fucking witch.’
Leona actually tut-tutted. ‘We descend from the Wiccan, but I am not a witch. We are the Disciples of the Maiden, the force of nature that lies all around you. If you took your head out of a bottle, you might notice it. The power behind a storm, the energy inherent in a flash of lightning, the fury of a volcano, or the earth-breaking swell of an earthquake –’
‘Jesus. Preach to someone who gives a shit. Just give me a goddamn phone.’
Leona’s eyes couldn’t have gotten any wider
if she’d held her eyelids open herself. ‘You, young lady –’
‘Leona, it’s okay.’ Vail entered the room carrying a tablet with some straw-hatted anime character sticker plastered on the back of it. The lizard perched on the kid’s shoulder, bulgy black eyes watching Azrael. ‘You can see she doesn’t know about any of this. Give her time.’
Time? For what? Keep him away from here, no matter what you might hear. Words straight from Blake’s mouth. But did that include hearing someone scream as they fell twenty-five stories out a glass window? What exactly was Kira keeping Azrael away from? She had no money to call a cab. And stealing the car wasn’t an option.
‘Well, she should know,’ Leona sniffed. ‘Why is she walking around with a bright one if she has no clue –’
‘Because my stupid bloody sister asked me to!’ Kira dropped back into her chair, and thumped her forehead against the tabletop. This was the worst trip she’d been on, and she was stone-cold sober. A hand rested on her shoulder. ‘I’m okay, Az. Just losing it.’
She sat up. Sure enough, Azrael’s hand rested on her shoulder. As she knew it would. Vail stood just as close, clutching his laptop, but Kira would have bet her overworked liver on it being Azrael touching her.
‘What is happening?’ she groaned, forehead hitting the tabletop again.
There was movement around her, a bit of whispering.
‘Do something, Leona.’
‘Fine, don’t get your knickers in a knot, boy. Here, have some of this. Calm your nerves.’ Something slammed down onto the table beside Kira’s head. And the sweet, sweet scent of red wine found its way through the stench. Kira lifted her head, chin resting on the table edge. A pint glass of crimson goodness sat a few centimetres away. Her hand moved before her thoughts did. Glass in hand she took a long, slow swig. Shiraz. Nothing fancy but it shat all over the house red they stocked at the Wheel and Barrow. Oh, Perry. What she wouldn’t do to be getting shit-faced at work right now.