Fogbound- Empire in Flames

by Gareth Clegg

  The steel was thick but had circular holes cut through it. Sufficient to allow the running of cables and supports, but small enough not to damage the internal strength of the structure. Most of it was still in reasonable condition, though there were severe bends and creases through some smaller sections.

  A few pieces had sheared from larger struts and lay embedded in the earth, surrounded by the boulder-sized remains of housing and molten cobbles.

  “It’s under here somewhere, within ten or twelve feet by my guess. How the hell are we going to move all this rubble?”

  Rosie looked to Maddox, whose shoulders slumped. “Really?” he said. “I’m the pack mule and the navvy? Bloody typical.”

  “We’ll help you,” Rosie said, her honeyed words seeming to raise Maddox from his aversion to the role.

  “Fine,” he said, dropping his backpack to the ground, rifling through it, producing an assortment of tools. They looked well-suited to breaking and prying through the rubble.

  The light was fading by the time they had their first breakthrough. They’d all been working solidly for the last couple of hours, either lifting, rolling or otherwise shifting some heavier stones and metal fragments. They used hammers to break up anything too heavy to move, crowbars to lever their way under the larger items, and resorted to brute strength when all else failed.

  Maddox’s non-stop approach impressed Nathaniel. He was a machine, powering through when Nathaniel and Rosie paused for breath and refreshment. But it was Rosie who continued to confound his understanding of physics. She moved pieces that were beyond even Maddox. How was she able to force her slight frame to perform at that level of effort? It was astonishing.

  As both Maddox and Rosie pushed down on one of the metal ribs, a troublesome boulder finally broke free with a resounding crack. They both fell, cursing, as the great steel section clanged off the mound of debris around them.

  Nathaniel checked they were all right, but they’d only received minor cuts and abrasions. A rumble of shifting rubble opened into a small passageway. It could have been part of a cellar or something similar.

  With the main obstruction and the mass of stone removed, the detector increased its volume and clicked at his side. “It must be in there,” Nathaniel said. “The rock would interfere with the signal, less than ten feet I’d say.”

  Rosie inspected the opening. “I might be able to squeeze through.”

  “As eager as I am, it’s too dangerous. We need to move the smaller rocks now to open the entrance, and then we should try to shore up the sides before venturing in. There is still a lot of mass here that could crush us if it shifts.”

  “So,” Rosie replied. “What you are telling me is, better safe than sorry?”

  “Yes, I suppose—”

  Maddox leapt to his feet. “What was that?”

  “Are you hearing rats again, John? I didn’t hear—”

  A distant howl reached them through the descending darkness.

  “That’s no rat,” Maddox said.

  “I’ve heard that before,” Nathaniel said. “It’s bleeders. Or worse.”

  “What do we do?” Rosie asked Nathaniel.

  “There’s next to no cover here,” Maddox said. “We could make a run for the less damaged properties, but it’s half a mile, and we’ve no idea how many of those damned things are out there.”

  “No,” Nathaniel said. “We clear enough rubble for us all to fit through and get into the cellar.”

  “Really?” asked Maddox.

  “If we are quiet, they might not notice us,” Nathaniel replied. “Come on. We’re running out of time as it is.”

  They set to work, forming a chain, and moved the rocks and debris hand-to-hand. Rosie stood at the front picking out and passing the items to Maddox. Then between Nathaniel and Maddox, they placed them away from the opening entryway.

  As they worked, more of the foul creatures wailed in the distance. Every sound from placing a rock or section of scrap caused Nathaniel to stop and listen for changes in the noises that would signify the bleeders had sensed them.

  The distant mournful wail of the fog warnings carried through the night air. It had grown cold, but they had made significant progress. Rosie had descended into the space and was handing rocks through from below. Nathaniel had passed the arc-lamp down to her, spreading a dim glow within, sufficient to see by, but not spill light from the opening.

  Nathaniel gauged he could squeeze through the entrance, but more was required before Maddox could fit his broad shoulders through.

  “Hey, Bazalgette,” Maddox said, passing him another large stone. “You should go down there. There’s a big enough gap for you now.”

  “I’ll wait until we can both get through.”

  “Look,” whispered Rosie from below. “Will you both just shut up and shift these rocks? Who knows how much time we have before one of those things stumbles onto us.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Maddox replied, rolling his eyes so only Nathaniel could see.

  Nathaniel smiled, suppressing a chuckle which soon faded. “Maddox, do you hear that?” he whispered.

  “I don’t hear anything.”

  “Exactly. It’s been quiet for a few minutes, a little too—”

  A moan rang out from a behind them as rocks and debris crunched under something approaching.

  “Shit,” Maddox shouted, jumping to his feet and flinging the rock toward the foul stench of the dark shadow a mere arms-length away. A sickening wet crunch, then more shuffling footsteps approached as several new voices cried out their mournful songs.

  “Get in the bloody hole,” Maddox said, pushing Nathaniel, who lost his footing and bounced down the rough entry to the cellar. Rosie stepped to the side, avoiding being swept off her feet as Nathaniel landed on his backside with a thump.

  Pain flared in his shin and lower-back as the air escaped his lungs. He saw a flash of bright light then his vision dimmed a little before recovering.

  There was a scuffle outside—several moans and heavy wet thuds that changed to sharp cracking sounds of something solid crushing bone.

  “Maddox,” Rosie shouted.

  “Rosie,” Nathaniel called, “the arc-lamp. Crank it up to full. They are sensitive to brightness.”

  She froze for a second, taking in what he had just said, then grabbed the lamp, wrenching the dial clockwise.

  A white beam exploded through the cramped space, then faded as she thrust it out of the hole. “John, take it and get down here. Nathaniel says they don’t like it.”

  The moans grew louder outside, and the light dimmed further, as the scrabbling Maddox squeezed himself into the passageway feet first, lamp held between him and the bleeders beyond.

  Dust fell around Maddox as he inched into the cellar. If it shifted now, the debris would crush him, but there was no other option. Rosie grabbed Maddox and pulled. They both landed in a heap on the stony ground.

  “We can’t fight them all. There are loads of the buggers,” Maddox said, brandishing the arc-lamp in one hand, a stained and dripping crowbar in the other.

  A snarling figure thrust through the opening scratching, clawing at Maddox, who brought the bar down onto the thing’s skull with a crack. Its mangled head squelched, spewed dark viscous ichor, and fell silent.

  Maddox hardly had time to blow out a breath between his teeth before another two burst into the space. They thrashed their way past each other to get to him.

  “I can’t do this forever,” Maddox yelled.

  Nathaniel looked up through the slithering shadows swarming across the rocky ceiling, cast by the lamp rolling on the ground.

  “Bring it down,” Nathaniel cried. “The rock, hit the one above you.”

  “What?”

  “Hit the bloody thing as hard as you can.”

  Maddox blocked the swipe of the nearest bleeder, pushing it back, then looking up, he swung at the packed stone above the entryway. A resounding clang rang out, and an ominous creak accompanied the
fall of dust.

  “Again,” yelled Nathaniel.

  Maddox took the bar in both hands, and with a mighty upward strike, the rock cracked. This time it fell, it’s neighbours following in a cascade. Rocks clacked and broke as they crunched their way through flesh and bone of the two creatures caught in the entrance. Maddox slipped as he backpedalled from the mountain of debris crashing into the small space. Thick dust swamped the room, and Nathaniel hacked and coughed as he tried to cover his mouth and nose.

  Nathaniel watched as rocks tumbled, rolling across the floor, while motes swam through the chamber. As they started to settle, what had been the opening was sealed by tons of rubble. Rosie and Maddox climbed to their feet, coughing and laughing.

  “Bloody hell,” Maddox said. “I thought we were done for.”

  “Is everyone all right?” Nathaniel asked.

  They both nodded while Nathaniel bent to retrieve his lamp, clipping it back onto his belt.

  “Well, we won’t be getting out that way,” Rosie said nodding at the rubble-filled opening. “What now?”

  Nathaniel finished attaching the connections to the scanner. It burst into life, giving off a load click every couple of seconds. He lifted the device and rotated it until he was facing deeper into the space they had uncovered. The clicking increased in both frequency and intensity. “This way.”

  The receiver pointed at a pile of rubble, the ticking almost constant now. “It’s got to be under here,” Nathaniel said while panning it left and right.

  As he panned it away, the tick slowed, returning to full tempo as it passed back across the collapsed masonry.

  “What are you waiting for?” Rosie asked, “this is what you came here for, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” Nathaniel said. “I’m a little apprehensive of what state it might be in. There’s no guarantee it will even be in one piece, let alone working.”

  Maddox took a step towards the assorted, brick and stone. “There’s only one way to find out.” He bent and started the back-breaking job of moving the sizeable chunks from the pile.

  Nathaniel placed the arc-lamp to illuminate the area, and the resonant frequency detector to point at the rubble then joined Maddox in moving fragments of broken wood beams.

  They threw the smaller pieces from the old stack to the side, while all three of them hauled the larger sections with small shuffling steps and aching backs. The detector clattered as they raised another large segment of brickwork.

  As Nathaniel rushed to inspect the new gap, a metallic glint caught his eye. He reached down and scooped up a circular shape covered in grime and powdered mortar, but the gleaming silver sparkled in the bright arc light. A matching chain skittered through the fob, torn links leaping into the deep recesses within the rubble.

  “Is that it?” Rosie asked him.

  “Yes, I believe so. It looks just like the one Simmons had, but maybe…” His voice faltered. “Oh my God,”

  Rosie stepped towards him. “What is it, Nathaniel, are you all right?”

  He stood there, immobile. His view transfixed on a dark recess near where he’d found the watch. There, poking out of the darkness, was a tubular section of dust covered brass, that ended in the unmistakable shape of a large finger.

  “I think we’ve discovered an ArcAngel.”

  Nathaniel was on hands and knees, clawing through the remaining debris to clear away the obstructions to his view of what lay beneath.

  Rosie and Maddox, who had both come to inspect the find, now aided him in uncovering the battered remains of silver and brass. They excavated the humanoid form, inch-by-inch, as they cleared the rubble. Scorch marks covered large sections of the armour, its surface a non-reflective black and brown in stark contrast to smaller plates that told of its original polished finish.

  Gouges and dents showed where the material had suffered massive impact damage. Multiple twisted sheets of grey metal lay beneath, propping it at an odd angle, the edges rent and torn like a curtain caught by a threshing machine.

  Nathaniel felt tears welling in the corner of his eyes. The construction was masterful, the joins between the armoured plates were almost invisible. He imagined the joy Tesla and Dent must have felt bringing such a marvel into being. A shining symbol of the power and technology they had created for Queen and Empire.

  But it was dead. Whatever energy source it had utilised was long depleted after lying in its dark tomb of brick and stone for four years.

  From the tales Dent had told, this had been the last of the ArcAngels, fighting in vain against a vastly superior foe. Gabriel sacrificed herself so the final survivors might flee the alien menace.

  This was history, here before Nathaniel and he stopped, feeling he owed a form of offering, a prayer for the deceased. Should we even open this, he thought, or leave it sealed like an old war grave, maintaining some level of dignity?

  What to do? They settled the question when Maddox removed another large piece of stone revealing the cracked helm.

  Nathaniel wasn’t sure what he’d expected: bone, withered flesh, a stench of rot perhaps? What he hadn’t expected was the pale skin hidden beneath the splintered faceplate, with no signs of deterioration or decay.

  “What on earth?” Nathaniel said, the surprise evident in his voice.

  “Can you open it, get a better look?” asked Rosie.

  “I can’t see any obvious mechanism. It seems fused into the helm.” He reached for his toolkit and probed around the seams. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  “What is it?” Rosie asked.

  “I thought it was dead, but I just had a small jolt, there must be a live circuit somewhere.” Nathaniel’s eyes widened as he inhaled. “It’s still got power, a tiny amount, but it’s there.”

  Rosie looked concerned. “What are you thinking?”

  “If I can isolate a charging point, I might boost the suit’s battery. It looks like it’s almost empty. I’m astonished it has anything left after all this time.”

  Rosie cast her eyes toward Maddox and then back to Nathaniel, shrugged her shoulders and gestured for him to continue. “If you think it’s safe, then go ahead.”

  Nathaniel located a power inlet behind a warped panel which he had to force due to the distortion. He found himself alone with the ArcAngel. Maddox and Rosie were looking around the other side of the room.

  The port was unusual in its design, but it conformed to Nathaniel’s understanding of Tesla’s Arc technology, and his jury-rigged wiring was passing current into the suit.

  He stared in astonishment as he heard the power draining from his battery pack. It was already half depleted in a few seconds. He unclipped the wires, and felt a more substantial jolt, even through his insulated gloves. Short pulses of light flashed over the armour, most of its activity around the chest and helm. A rasping sound issued from the faceplate as it tried to flex. A grinding of gears heralded more intense flexing, and then a pop of metal as whatever was blocking the mechanism broke away.

  It rolled up showing the pale complexion of a woman in her late twenties, surrounded by a halo of dirty, matted curls. Her angular features sat on a strong-jawed face, covered with years of settled dust.

  The Victorian standard of beauty was for whiter than white skin. Nathaniel didn’t understand the lengths to which some women went, painting their faces with all manner of oils, and other obscure concoctions, some of them toxic.

  Her eyelids snapped open, and her throat shrieked as she sucked in a lungful of the dusty air. Nathaniel fell backwards, his backside bouncing off several broken pieces of masonry as he landed in a heap.

  Rosie and Maddox turned at the sound and rushed across the intervening distance, Maddox arriving with a large pistol drawn.

  “Stop, stop,” Nathaniel cried, raising his hands.

  “What the hell?” said Maddox.

  Rosie’s face asked the same question, her eyes wide.

  “Gabriel’s awake,” Nathaniel said. “Don’t ask me how, but she’s alive.�
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  To emphasise the point, Gabriel burst into a wracking fit of coughing. It was like she couldn’t catch her breath.

  Nathaniel pushed himself to his feet, rubbing his throbbing buttock. “Help me lift her to a sitting position.”

  The armour weighed a ton. It took all of them to force it into a near right-angle, and the cough diminished. The suit seemed to lock in place, allowing them all to step away, backs and shoulders burning from the effort.

  He stepped back in front of Gabriel, greeted by blue eyes flicking from side-to-side, taking in her surroundings and then focussing on him.

  “Where am—” she croaked, her voice cracking. She took another breath. “Where am I?”

  “You’re in London. It appears you became buried under rubble after the airship came down,” Nathaniel said. “Would you like some water?” He turned to Maddox, who rummaged in his pack and passed him a canteen.

  Gabriel concentrated for a moment, frowning. “I can’t move my arms.”

  Both hung limp at her side. The left one marked with scorch marks and heavy dents.

  “I can help you,” Nathaniel said, taking a slow step towards her, canteen held as a peace offering.

  She seemed like she would say no, but she looked him straight in the eyes and gave a single curt nod. Nathaniel placed the water next to her cracked lips and tipped it until a trickle bubbled out. She swallowed and nodded to him again, so he repeated the process.

  “More?” he asked.

  “No, that’s fine.” Her voice was much clearer, a deep contralto. “Are you refugees?”

  “Refugees?”

  “Yes, are you trying to escape the city, heading to the south coast? I’m not in good shape, but I’ll do what I can to get you to safety.”

  Before Nathaniel could say anything, she was reeling off a series of names and numbers. “Priority One signal. Reference three five six nine two two. ArcNet, this is Angel-One, do you copy?”

  “Wait,” he said. Gabriel either ignored or didn’t hear him, repeating the same message.