The City of Monsters

by Matthew McCollum

  It took about ten minutes, during which the fire on both sides of the bulwark never ceased, but she eventually began to hear the tortured groaning of weakening wood coming from the door frame.

  Another five minutes and the groans became more pained and more obvious. There was no mistaking it now; the roof was coming down.

  She moved to where the defenders could see her, since they were all still wearing their headphones, and indicated a retreat. She headed into the back first, to make sure it stayed a retreat rather than a panicked rout, and they followed close behind. After they had reached sufficiently deep in the store, and she had found a good choke point, she indicated they stop and set up, which they did without hesitation.

  Laura heard the roof come down clearly, even from a distance. It sounded like the entire building was collapsing, and their little hallway shook noticeably. Dust—not ash, dust—billowed in from the corridor leading to the front, and the defenders paused in their preparations, concerned. The melano walked up to Laura, taking off his headphones, but she shook her head and indicated they stay put.

  She advanced back to the front of the store slowly, pistol out. She couldn't hear any screamers nearby, but she had learned during the mission with the biters that their sixth sense wasn't very reliable on pinpointing them with that degree of accuracy. Admittedly, she couldn't hear any with her actual ears, either, which was a good sign, but it didn't necessarily mean the way was clear.

  As she crept closer, she began to hear something. It took her a few minutes to identify it, but it became more clear with each passing moment. Eventually, she couldn't pretend she didn't know what it was anymore.

  There was a singer in the store.

  She considered falling back, if only to grab those headphones, but decided against it. Someone had to figure out if we were immune, and if she didn't risk it, Derek would. When it came right down to it, she was the least useful member of the team. Strategists were cheap; they still had no idea how to empower people.

  But still, some precautions were needed. She spoke into her cell phone, which I had left on as a recording device. It would dump all its sensor data, mostly just sound, to one of MC's caches.

  “MC, I'm confronting a singer. If I turned into a screamer, stop the recording now.”

  Properly prepared, she turned the corner into the entryway and found...

  Well, first off, the room was half the size it had been just minutes before. Half the roof had come down, centered on where the door frame had been, with likely more falling on the horde outside. A sloped pile of shifting rubble took up most of the space, with the rest filled with dust, spinning in the air.

  And there, standing ankle-deep in broken chunks of sheetrock and not two feet from a piece of a wooden beam bigger than she was, was the singer.

  She was beautiful, Laura had to admit. She had that quiet, natural beauty so many people lacked, to the point that even covered in a fine layer of dust and ash, rendering her skin and hair colors impossible to discern, she was still gorgeous.

  She barely seemed to take note of Laura's presence, preferring instead to sing. Laura wasn't all that musical, but even she could tell it was a difficult song, straining the woman's vocal range to the fullest. She chose mostly higher notes, but dipping deeper as well. There were lyrics too, but it wasn't any language Laura recognized. She only spoke three languages, but she had familiarity with a dozen more.

  Laura was just wondering what to do when she heard a voice behind her. “How are you still sane?”

  She turned to see the big melano and the other defenders, still wearing their headphones, staring at her. That was when she realized that he was right; assuming the song worked anywhere near as fast as touching blood or saliva, she should definitely have turned by now.

  She just shrugged. She didn't know what to say, and they wouldn't have been able to hear her anyway.

  “Oh, so it doesn't make you crazy anymore?” a little black boy, no more than fifteen, said a little too loudly. He was in the middle of the crowd. “That's good.” He took off his headphones.

  “No!” Laura cried, diving forward. The survivors reacted similarly, crying out in alarm and training their weapons on him. The second he got his ear protection all the way off, a huge smile plastered itself on his face.

  “It's so... beautiful...” he whispered.

  Huh. That was odd. Sure, Laura thought that the singer's song was pretty, in a weird sort of way, but not the mind-numbingly beautiful he seemed to be experiencing.

  Interesting.

  Any scientific curiosity was quickly drowned out when the boy started screaming, the same wordless, emotionless sound the other zombies made. The melano tackled him to the ground before anyone could shoot him, protecting him with his own body whether intentionally or not.

  Laura knew they had to get him off first. And they had to do it quickly. The burners didn't bite very often, but he would eventually, and then they'd have two screamers in our midst. And if someone just shot the boy, his blood would still infect the melano.

  The singer was still singing, completely oblivious. Laura swore loudly and shot her in the head.

  Well, that wasn't quite right. She raised her gun with one hand and tried to shoot the singer in the head. Even if she hadn't dodged, Laura probably wouldn't have hit her. Using a gun one-handed was hard enough for people who actually had training and experience.

  But regardless, she did dodge, some self-preservation mechanism finally kicking in. She swept her hands forward, still singing, and some embers in the bits of wood in the pile of rubble glowed brighter. With a start, Laura realized she was trying to use the same powers as the current batch of screamers—control of fire rather than creation of fire, like the very first screamer they had encountered.

  Interesting.

  But Laura had the advantage: She had an 8-shot clip only missing one round. So she just gripped the gun with both hands, squared her shoulders, and emptied the magazine at the singer's center of mass.

  She dodged the first, but then one clipped her in the leg, and the next five got her good. She collapsed in a heap like a rag doll, the dust still spinning in the air from our brief fight. Finally, the singing stopped, and it was quiet, except for the screamers outside. Laura fell to her knees, breathing heavily.

  Looking down, she watched a drop of sweat roll off her nose and hit the ground. It made a small explosion in the dust.

  She breathed deeply, but my heart refused to slow down. She was missing something.

  Something...

  It was quiet.

  Except for the screamers.

  Outside.

  She jumped up instantly and ran back to the survivors. They were staring down at the boy with utter astonishment.

  He was alive, that much was clear. He was looking around, bewildered, and he wasn't screaming.

  “What happened?” Laura asked. She peeled the boy's eyelid back. She didn't have a light to do a full test, but his pupils seemed normal.

  The melano answered. “It was when you killed the singer. He just... stopped screaming.”

  The boy was still looking around. Laura grabbed his head and made him face her. “What's your name? Do you know where you are?”

  He swallowed. “I'm... Loga'ha'shanar of the Sky-Borne Lords,” he said slowly. “And this is the hardware store I came to a few hours ago, looking for a power screwdriver.”

  Wonderful, another changeling. Was he in the area to deal with Killing Sparrow? Not important right now. “Alright Loga, that's good. What's the last thing you remember?”

  “I saw you facing the singer without headphones, Honored Paladin, so I took mine off. Then...” He frowned. “I... can't remember what happened next.”

  She nodded. “That's fine. That's very good.” She let him go and stood up, turning to the melano. “Take care of him, I need to make a call.”

  She could barely keep it together, she was shaking so badly. A cure! Not for everyone, certainly, the singers would
have to die, but that was far better than just killing everything. She pulled out her phone, turned off the recording function, and called MC.

  “Priority one message for the real MC,” she said before the program had a chance to speak. “From Laura Medina, regarding the screamers.”

  “Laura,” MC said within seconds, her voice as smooth as milk chocolate. “What's going on?”

  “I'll explain later. I don't have the retinue's phone numbers. I need you to send them all a message: Kill the singers, all at once if possible, as soon as possible.”

  There was a brief pause. “Done. I also put their numbers in your cell. Er... that okay?”

  Laura chuckled briefly. “Yeah. Thanks.” She hung up, tired beyond belief.

  That might be it. That might be the end. Oh, not quite, of course. They'd still need to hunt down the other singers whenever they reappeared, but they had a cure for the screamers. A better one than a bullet to the head. And it was possible, just possible, that there might be another advantage as well...

  Her phone rang again. She picked it up; it was MC.

  “They did it,” she reported. She didn't say anything else.

  “... and?” Laura asked.

  “And nothing. The singers are all dead, but the screamers didn't go crazy or lose their specs. Was that what you were trying to do?”

  Laura broke down crying.

  Chapter 18: TORRIDA TELLUS

  DEREK

  Derek watched the building Laura had gone into fall, but it wasn't as bad as he feared. The front of the shop sloughed away like a collapsing cliff face, but most of the building remained standing. It was only three stories high anyway, so there wasn't that much rubble raining down. A few zombies got squashed, but mostly they just dodged out of the way and watched as the intersection filled with dust.

  The horde was moving towards them again, some latent instinct keeping them away from what might still be dangerous. Derek released the barrier on the storefront he was in, and the survivors opened fire on the zombies. He moved back behind the firing line and flipped out his cell.

  “MC? Is Laura alright?”

  “Seems to be,” she said. “She brought the roof down on purpose, and it sounds like she's moving around...” She paused. “One sec, she found a singer.”

  “What? Tell her to stay away from it. MC?”

  He glanced at his screen. She had hung up. This was not good. He knew Laura would feel the need to experiment and test their immunity. But Derek was the one who should be risked, not her. She was too valuable to lose.

  He glanced at the survivors in his redoubt, but he knew they wouldn't be able to help, even if he could communicate his needs to them. There were only six of them, equipped with small arms, and they had stabbed out their own eardrums to save themselves from the song. It might be overkill, but with the toy maker they'd get fixed without a great deal of effort.

  But then again, they were all big ursas, a black-furred malay and five thibs with black fur and a big white spot on the chest. With their help, he might be able to barrel through the horde in time...

  No way. Even if they could get to point C without them getting infected, they'd still have to dig her out. They couldn't possibly do that in time. Not even Ling would be able to manage it.

  Derek wasn't often in situations where he couldn't do anything. He felt so helpless and afraid. Normally, if nothing else, he could get Akane's help, but she was probably having a harder time of it than he was.

  Then my phone buzzed. MC.

  “Hello?” he said too quickly.

  “Direct order to everyone from Laura:” His heart felt tight in his chest. She was alive. “Kill the singers, all at once if possible, as soon as possible.”

  Derek couldn't see any from his redoubt, and he didn't like the idea of jumping into the horde without a plan. Besides, Adam and the retinue would have a better vantage point, so he left it to them.

  After a few more minutes, MC called back, this time only to him.

  “Something's wrong with Laura,” she said without preamble. “She's crying, and isn't responding.”

  Derek blinked, confused, and decided to get the worst scenario out of the way first. “Crying like... screaming?”

  “No, like with tears. I don't know what's going on. I told her the singers were dead, she asked if anything happened, I said it didn't, and then she just went all BSOD.”

  Well, at least she wasn't a zombie. “Do you have any of the survivors in her vicinity on the line?”

  “No. When I heard about the singers, I told everyone to destroy their phones, just in case.”

  “Sounds like overkill,” he pointed out disapprovingly.

  “At least one store got turned by their intercom system,” she said flatly. “I'd have you nix yours too if I didn't know you need them.”

  Silver and gold. That was too smart for zombies. Whoever was behind this... why wait until now? Why only do it to one store? Too many questions.

  “Can you isolate the communications systems, make it harder for them to do that to multiple places at once?”

  “Did already,” she said. “Spawned a couple failsafes, including a sort of self-destruct that I control. I can kill the entire network in a moment if something goes sideways.”

  “And you're the only one with access?”

  “Of course.”

  “Okay, good.” Derek took a deep breath. “Order Akane and Ling to retreat to the 'sarian redoubt. I'm going to try and rescue Laura.”

  “Got it. But what about the retinue?”

  He frowned. He wasn't sure. He was used to fighting with two people, including himself. This was a bit beyond his expertise.

  Well, Laura definitely knew what she was doing. “Tell them to stay put and provide supporting fire. Kill any singers they see.”

  There was a brief pause. “Done,” she said cheerfully. “Good luck with your girlfriend.”

  Derek blinked. “Wait, what?”

  “Oh, come on, not even you could fail to notice after that kiss.”

  “How did you know about...” He shook his head violently. “No, Akane and Ling were being cruel, and Laura was shutting them up. That's it.”

  There was another pause, much longer than the first. “Mother of fire, you're stupid.”

  She hung up before he could respond.

  He sighed. He would never understand women. The cruel and disingenuous flirting, he was used to. But with MC getting in on it, he was beginning to think all women were just born crazy.

  Whatever. He put it out of his mind. He had work to do.

  He managed to communicate his intent to the ursas, and they split off towards the Necessarian redoubt, cutting through the screamers without much difficulty. While they distracted the zombies, he swallowed his terror and made a beeline for point C.

  He had to kill a few screamers, but he had a lot of experience fighting hand-to-hand, and his shields blocked fire without faltering in the slightest. And, again, they seemed more interested in the ursas. He wondered if that had something to do with the fact he had powers. Maybe they thought he was friendly until proven otherwise? Well, maybe not friendly—they still attacked him when no one else was around.

  It wasn't important right now. Laura could probably figure it out.

  It took him way too long to cross the square, even with the screamers distracted. There was no way he was getting through the collapsed front, but he found a loading dock around the back. Both the large gate and the normal-sized metal door were locked, and he didn't have anything to break it.

  He pounded on the door until his fists hurt, but no one answered, and he didn't expect them to. They'd all be deaf by now, or they found some other way to protect themselves. Either way, he doubted they could hear him.

  He cast around for something, anything. A sledgehammer to batter down the doors, an intercom to call inside...

  Or an abandoned ladder, to climb onto the roof.

  The ladder was old and covered in bits of
dried mud from being left out in the rain, but it was stainless steel, so it was still serviceable. He set it up and clambered up to the second story roof. He had the presence of mind to kick away the ladder so the screamers couldn't use it. There were no windows, but he was able to reach the third story roof.

  It really was an old style building. The roof was flat, and it didn't have the stairwell entrance most structures in the city had. Clearly, the builders hadn't intended for anyone to hang out on the roof smoking during their lunch breaks.

  At least the trapdoor wasn't too hard to find. Luckily it was on the backside of the roof, so Derek didn't have to worry about landing in rubble because of Laura's little stunt. The lock was rusted over, but the door itself was cheap plywood, so he kicked through it. There was no ladder, but it was less than ten feet down, so he just jumped.

  All the lights in the store were out. Whether that was intentional or Laura had screwed with the electricity when she brought the roof down, he didn't know.

  This was clearly the office level, with many well-labeled rooms like Head Manager and Hiring Manager. He found the stairs and headed down, skipping the second floor entirely. He had a feeling Laura would be on the first level. The offices made it clear that this was a hardware store, so any risks caused by being on the ground floor would be offset by easy access to power tools and other improvised weaponry.

  The first thing he noticed when he came out of the stairwell was the dust. It was everywhere, floating in the air like mist. He coughed and waved his arm in the air, trying to disperse it. He wasn't really sure where to start looking, but the collapse seemed as good a place as any.

  It was a bit harder going than he expected. What little light there was refracted off the dust in unexpected ways, so he was jumping at shadows the whole time. But as he turned the last corner, he saw a group of survivors wearing large headphones, clustered around something. There was a big melano, a panda ursa, who was probably. He had some huge device slung across his back. After a moment, Derek identified it as an air compressor, hooked up to a large nailgun in his paw.

  He called out to them, but no one noticed, which wasn't unexpected. he almost walked up and tapped the melano on the shoulder, but thought better of it at the last moment. Instead, he conjured a shield between himself and them.