He could see light reflecting off of bubbling, tumorous masses, eyes glowing yellow and green in the dark.
His screams caught in his throat. Urine warmed the inside of his long johns.
They lumbered out of the dark, and as they did, the dark followed them. The singing got so loud that Hugo felt his eardrums rupture, the blood flowing down both sides of his neck like sacramental rivers. Still, his eyes were open, and he recognized the one-eyed face that stared at him from the front fro that monstrous pack.
It was Eddy's face.
Broken and bleeding and fading away into the side of a hulking monstrosity that was more shadow, more fuming ash, than it was human, but it was him all the same.
Was that what he was to become?
Their legs were massive, like nothing he'd ever seen.
They were inches from him when he cowered on the floor and covered his head. He couldn't hear the singing anymore, but he could feel the vibrations from their massive feet.
He was waiting for the moment when they would notice him on the floor and scoop him up, tear him limb from limb, and then fight over the scraps...but the moment never came.
The darkness turned red.
He opened his eyes. The lights had turned back on. The creatures were gone, having torn their way through the door behind him.
Sitting there in a puddle of his own piss and blood, he was thankful to be alive.
5
Mathias slammed the table. "No, no, no, no!"
He hadn't been sure where the blackouts were proceeding, where the so-called creatures that poor Hugo had witnessed were heading before.
Now he knew.
There was no mistaking it. They were heading for the fusion core. It made so much sense, he wanted to kick himself. Eddy had been sacrificed to the star eater. His body must be taking on some of its characteristics.
There must have been more of them; perhaps Weber had made the same mistake many times before he had? But why had they chosen to awaken now? Had Eddy's transformation somehow triggered something?
Mathias glanced at the stack of journals sitting on his table. Maybe one of them held the answer?
Would he even have time to look through them?
How long until they reached the core...what would happen then? He'd lose control, that much was certain.
He had to do something.
But what?
He eyed the microphone at the end of his desk, toggled with the controls to communicate with Ira and Lena's cell...
6
"You're pacing again," Lena said.
Lena had watched Ira pace back and forth for nearly an hour from the bed. It was beginning to drive her nuts.
"It's been way too long," Ira said. "What happens if he fails with whatever he's trying to do with Hugo?"
"I don't want to think about that," Lena said.
"I hate this, being at the mercy of that fucker." Ira stopped, held herself. "If something happens to him out there, if he dies, overdoses on LSD during one of his tank trips, whatever, we'll be stuck in here."
"I could use a good trip."
"He's not using it to get high."
"Where's the fun in that?"
Ira shook her head, her eyes were dead serious. "He's trying to commune with aliens, like Weber was doing."
"You think he succeeded?"
"What?"
"Nothing..." Lena shook her head. Ira was obviously in no mood to ponder the value of madness.
"I have bad news," Mathias's voice was different than it had been before. Lena couldn't put her finger on it.
"Let me guess," Ira said, her head resting on her arms. "Hugo's dead."
"I can't confirm that yet."
"Then you're useless to us," Ira said. "Why don't you go take another LSD trip and leave us alone?"
"I can't do that. It's a bit hard to explain, but Lena was right. I didn't want to believe what she saw was real...but it was...and those things, whatever they are, are heading for the fusion core. I have no idea what will happen when they get there."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ira shook her head. "Are you on drugs right now or something?"
"No, he's not," Lena said. "When I saw Eddy...when I saw his face on that thing...it was causing the lights to darken as it moved down the hall."
"Indeed, near as I can figure, whatever went wrong with the ceremony I performed on him caused him to take on the characteristics of the star eater in Weber's journal entries. If they consume the core to this facility, not only will I lose control—"
"But we'll be stuck in here," Lena said.
"I'm going to open the doors."
Lena watched Ira shift off the bed, staring the camera dead-on. "Then I'm coming for you."
"That would be ill advised. Once the power is out, this place will be one giant gateway for the Amarath that killed Weber's researchers. It may not be interested in hunting us yet, but that may change at any time."
"You think that's going to stop me? If we're going to die, I'm taking you with me."
"Ira, stop," Lena said.
"Stop? That bastard imprisoned us! Chloroformed me! He's the reason why Eddy and Nico are gone!"
"I realize that I've done terrible things to you...but, I implore you...don't do anything rash...I've lost control of the situation..."
"Shit's hitting the fan and you want to let 'bygones be bygones'?" Ira said. "I don't fucking think so."
"Ira...let's agree to a truce."
The cell gate clanked open. The door to the surrounding chamber followed shortly after that.
Lena could see murder burning in Ira's eyes. Maybe there's more Nico in you than you thought?
"Ira..."
She watched Ira stand up and consider their now-open cage. Her fists were balled up so tight her skin was turning red. Or maybe that was Hugo's blood? Lena couldn't be sure.
Ira's eyes closed tight. She drew in a deep breath. "No."
She bolted through the open gate and the door to the chamber before either of them could reply.
Lena stood there in disbelief...utterly alone.
"They've reached the core. There's nothing I can do. Power's already fluctuating. I've failed."
"Mathias, if the core dies...what happens to us?" Lena asked.
"The entrance to this place was never secured. We'll be dead in days. If nothing else kills us first."
"Part of me hopes she finds you. Gives you what you deserve."
"It's too late for me, I'm already doomed."
"We all are."
"And yet, I'm your best shot at survival."
"Ain't that a bitch."
"Quite."
The lights flickered.
"Lena, I—"
The lights flickered again. Then they died. Now, she was alone and surrounded by complete darkness.
Seven gray eyes pulsed to life on the other side of the chamber. She heard growls rumble through the air, loud, lumbering steps, scraping.
Her breath was short. She wanted to scream, couldn't. Something was different this time.
She wasn't sure why she ran and there was no telling where she was headed in the dark. She just knew. Knew that if she didn't run, then she would wind up in that thing's jaws.
Her hands found the bars to the cell, then the gate. Her bare feet scrambled forward. She heard something scurry behind her as she shot through the doorway, slamming her shoulder on the doorframe and tumbling into the corridor.
She caught a glimpse of gray eyes when she picked her head up from the floor and scrambled to her feet, sprinting down the hall—holding her pulsing shoulder as tears spilled down her cheeks.
I don't want to die! she thought, as something unseen raked its claws across her ankle, leaving pulsing fires in its wake.
Limping and sprinting down the darkened corridor, somehow, she'd managed to get away. Her ankle felt wet, like there were pins and needles festering inside her flesh. It was probably bleeding out.
Just keep moving, s
he thought. Just keep moving, don't look back!
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The waves cascade out from the star in flares, bouncing—
caressing the way lovers do
—off concrete and metal, feeding into tubes, wires, machines made by simple, desperate creatures—where their endless fuel is wasted on things that don't satiate his hunger.
The others are chanting. They stretch out around the source. They call to him to join them—
a part of him, the part that's still human, does not want to merge with them, does not want to do this thing which he feels so compelled
—to feast.
Another flare erupts from the tiny star inside its protective cage, its warmth, its power, caressing his flesh, what's left of it. The new parts of him, the parts made of shadow, of things unknown to man and man's science, drink that warmth.
It's not enough to satiate his appetite.
The others reach hands out to each other. Shadows stretch, bone and flesh long since consumed by the eldritch thing inside which claims more and more of him—
his human mind shudders, thinks desperately of a woman he once knew, a woman whose name he can't recall
—he cannot resist.
The hunger is too great.
Fingers of shadow embrace, becoming six points around the glowing metal cage.
Together, they stretch their fingers into the sun's cage. Through tiny fissures and cracks in the steel, their shadows snake and slither their way to the warmth. It's so close, he can feel it. They all can.
Then, they touch its surface. At first, it burns. But soon, as all of them take on its power at once, that pain transforms into a euphoric sensation eclipsing any he has ever experienced.
Ghostly faces of beings he has long since forgotten fade from his memory as the energy surges through his new body, satisfying his hunger at last.
Then, all is dark.
In the dark, the others start singing a different song. Though he has never heard it before, somehow, he finds himself singing it all the same. At once, he knows what needs to be done.
They must call to it.
They must call to their father.
2
Ira pumped her malnourished legs as fast as the anger burning through her veins would allow, and then lights plinked out—leaving her in a black void.
She shrieked, tripping over her own feet. Her hands broke her fall, skidding against concrete like worn, rusty brakes grinding to a stop. Her palms pulsed with the impossibly loud rhythm of her own heartbeat, fresh blood mixing with dirt, grime, and Hugo's dried DNA as she sat there surrounded by absolute darkness.
What now? she thought.
For the moment, the thought of wringing Mathias's scrawny neck faded from her mind. Her eyes drifted this way and that, searching for anything that might help her get her bearings while a nameless fear burned from deep within her. A fear that spoke whispers in her mind, whispers which told her not to look too closely, that the only light she might find would be gray.
Where was she? How many doorways and corridors had she sprinted through? How many had Mathias opened? If he’d opened all of them, it was possible that she'd be able to find a flashlight. Even so, it would be difficult in the dark.
But she couldn't give up.
She wasn't sure why. Fuck, enough shit had happened that no one would be able to blame her if she finally lay down and said to hell with it—let that thing drag her off to who-the-fuck-knows-where.
No.
She got on her hands and knees and crawled to the wall, using it as a brace and a point of reference in the dark as she stood up and continued down the corridor.
Part of her blamed Lena. If it weren't for that stupid baby growing inside of her, Ira imagined it'd be so much easier to lie down and quit. But that was a lie and she knew it. She was too damned stubborn to die without a fight.
She had too much of her mother in her.
The curvature of the stone wall was her only guide. She followed it, walking her hands one by one.
Left
Right
Left
Right
Her thoughts drifted to her mother. Standing in the living room, her gray hair glistening in the dim morning sunlight as the first summer snowflakes touched the withering lawn. Her lips were parted in a warming smile. This is a gift from God, Ira, her mother had said, half-mad. And she could almost see her here as if she were still flesh and blood.
When Ira had argued with her, told her how this snow was a terrible sign, a harbinger of things to come, her mother's smile had faded. Change is inevitable, Ira. God gives us only what we can handle.
She’d died in that house. Content to be surrounded by the memories she held dear. Ira remembered the day she and Nico decided to leave, how content she seemed to be with her decision to stay, even as the snow threatened to trap them.
Ira barely recognized her mother in the end. This world, the death of Papa, the mounting toll from so many friends, neighbors, and family lost to the ice had changed her. In her youth, Papa had said she was tough as nails, that catcallers in New York always thought twice about whistling at her with one look at the fire in her eyes.
Change is inevitable.
She remembered the house when looking back over her shoulder, covered with piles of snow. It had looked more like a coffin than a home at that point.
Her brother had touched her shoulder. She could almost feel it now. Stern, authoritative, warm. If he hadn't touched her shoulder then, if he hadn't said what he'd said, she would have run all the way back to die with them.
The house, the hills of snow, the collapsing buildings of downtown Riverside, it all melted before her eyes, transforming into something else. Somewhere else.
It was a city. One unlike any she'd ever seen before. There were two suns in the sky, both dim and distant. The buildings seemed to be made from some kind of crimson stone, with strange symbols etched into their crumbling relief. Something stretched high above her, darkening the sky.
It was a black comet. Like the one she'd seen in her nightmares. It seemed to be moving quite quickly, like it had somewhere to be.
An appointment, a disembodied voice not too dissimilar to her own said. A date with destiny.
Standing there staring up like a fool, she lost track of time, lost track of the wall at her side, and reality got lost right along with everything else. She felt almost as if the black comet knew she was there, as if—from all those millions of miles above—it was peering down on her, and it was not impressed. Not impressed at all.
I must be going crazy.
"Shit, yo!" Hugo's voice broke her trance in the dark. He had a flashlight in one hand and was backing away from her.
"You're alive." She was both grateful and repulsed by that fact.
He didn't seem to hear her.
Here we are, she thought. Nothing but shadows to witness me if I were to feel the life drain from your body, and no omnipresent voice to stop me.
She stood there, staring at him in the dark, remembering Nico. Hugo seemed to understand what she was contemplating. His lips were trembling, fumbling to create words.
Her hands balled into fists.
Stepping forward, Ira raised her arm up to cave in his skull—and then he spoke. "I saw Eddy!"
Her fist stopped just short of smashing into his cranium. "What?"
Hugo shrank away, dropping the flashlight at her feet—tears pouring down his dirty face. He slumped against the curvature of the tunnel, curling into the fetal position. "It was...it was unreal, yo...like, I don't know, the gates of hell or somethin’ got opened up. I saw them all, they looked wrong, like they weren't human no more. The music was so loud, too loud! His face, God, his fucking face!"
Ira bent over and picked up the flashlight. Her anger eroded, and she hated herself for it. What good would it do to kill someone who was already so broken? What justice was that?
All she could think about was how much she loved Eddy
, and about how she'd never see him again.
It took all the strength she had to offer her hand to him. "Get up. We need to find Lena."
3
The constant crunch of massive footsteps in snow reaches his one remaining ear. The sky is a dim blue, the sun rising over eastern slopes—above places he once knew. Dead places.
The others march right up to the edge of the icycliff and stare at the burning circle of yellow fire as it makes its way higher and higher—perhaps for the last time.
Their arms reach high into the sky, hands and fingers stretching and waving like snakes chasing after prey...
And they sing.
How they sing.
They sing to their father.
The one who took them and molded them in his image.
The sound is so powerful that it spills down the cliffs and slopes and fills the valley like an ocean of otherworldly whitenoise. Down frozen and crumbling roads, through broken buildings and collapsed bridges, across snow-covered plains where fields of flowing yellow grass and proud weeds once grew. It fills every space, it wakes every soul unlucky enough to still be alive—
and it reaches her ears too, deep in the dark recesses of that place where he was reborn.
What was her name again?
He's suddenly very afraid for her.
Very afraid—
and their song grows louder still, calling to Yog'Elios. Calling to the black comet that devours suns.
4
It was as if Lena was in a trance. She'd been limping down darkened corridors, searching for nothing in particular but for refuge from the thing that seemed to be stalking her. If Mathias had treated them like mice in some giant maze, now she felt like she'd graduated to prey—a meal unlucky enough to be tortured and toyed with by her predator.
Where could she go in the dark?
Where was she?
And what was that music?
It was different than the music she'd heard days ago, but somehow it was familiar as well. Those choruses had seemed sad, longing. They scared her, made her think she was going nuts. These chants, songs, whatever they were, were almost triumphant—safe even. Before she knew what she was doing, she found herself following them—limping on her bad ankle—searching for their source.
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