Old World (The Survivors Book Eleven)

by Nathan Hystad

  Magnus took the lead, jogging along the edge of the building we’d emerged from. We avoided the hedges and moved for the edge of the property, careful to not be spotted. It was quiet, and obvious that there weren’t many of the Restorers stationed at the Pisa base. Old Rome was probably a different story.

  Once we were a block away, running along the sidewalk beside some walk-up apartment buildings, I saw the Leaning Tower in the moonlight. I didn’t think we’d been sighted.

  “Let’s go. What did it say? Four blocks west?” Magnus asked.

  “Five,” I said. Already I was struggling to move and guessed tomorrow was going to be even worse. The trip was quick, the surroundings far less original than I’d expected. It appeared like they’d built up residences around the area in the mid-nineteen hundreds, but I could have been off by a couple of decades.

  We turned at a parking lot full of Italian cars, almost every one of them a compact hatchback. I tried to picture Magnus driving one of them, and laughed. He glared at me, not asking what I found so funny about our situation.

  Three blocks north, and we stopped in the shadows of an old business canopy. “Do you see it?” I asked.

  “There.” Magnus pointed half a block away, and there I saw the sign for the pub. As we neared it from across the street, I saw the logo: a hog sniffing a truffle.

  “Looks like your kind of place,” I told Magnus.

  “If you think that’s a joke, it’s not. I used to love hole-in-the-wall pubs like this,” Magnus said, grinning at me.

  “Then you’ll enjoy this one,” a voice said from behind, with a slight lisp. The sound of a gun cocking wasn’t lost on either of us, and we both raised our hands at the same moment. I saw Magnus’ fists clench and shook my head quickly.

  “After you,” the man said, and we headed across the road, arms held in the air. He came up close as we stopped at the door and patted us with practiced efficiency. “You can lower them.”

  I turned, seeing the man for the first time. He was shorter than me by a couple of inches, thin, but his eyes held a dangerous glimmer to them. His hair was thin and gray, one eye blue, the other brown. He waved us forward with his revolver.

  Magnus pressed into the bar, and I was surprised to find it half full, candles flickering along the bar and behind it. Everyone was silent as we entered, and I saw the woman from Frasier’s villa; no longer wearing a hood, but I’d recognize her darting eyes anywhere. She gave me a tight nod and motioned for us to have a seat at the end of a long table. Her hair was spiky on top, short on the sides.

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “We’re friends of yours, Dean. Dean Parker,” the man with the lisp said.

  My shoulders tensed, and I scratched at my growing beard, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. “Sorry, wrong guy. I’m Don Larson,” I told them, trying to keep the crack from my voice.

  “Cut it out. We know who you are. To be honest, we thought Frasier must have as well, but apparently, he has no clue. He’s smart, but so single-minded in his focus, he can hardly see what’s right in front of him,” the woman who’d sent us here said.

  I caught a deeper meaning behind her words, as if she were in a relationship with the man, perhaps a one-sided tryst.

  I judged there was no convincing the group that I wasn’t who they said I was. “What do you want with me?”

  “We want the same thing as you, Parker,” the man said.

  “And who are you?”

  “I’m Gabriel, another leader of the Restorers. Some of us think Frasier has gone too far and needs to be reined in. Others are behind his idealistic ways and think we should strike harder and faster than we are. We need to ensure this doesn’t happen. Not only will there be a war with the rest of our own people in the colonies, but I understand the Alliance will come and deal with us. No one here seems to think that will happen,” Gabriel said.

  “Mark my word, if anything should materialize at the colonies, our Alliance will deal with the Restorers swiftly and efficiently,” Magnus said.

  “Frasier tells us he has a way to deal with them,” Gabriel said. “Isn’t that right, Bonnie?”

  The spiky-haired woman nodded. “We don’t know what his plan is, but he seems to think he can keep any advanced technology from our world forever.”

  The space station. We already knew he was going to do something up there to blast out anything using the advanced alien version of the electromagnetic pulses, but it sounded like he was going to attempt to leave the blasts running, or at least have someone stationed there to short out any incoming vessels. I didn’t tell them any of this, but only listened.

  “We need you to find out what he’s planning, Dean, and stop him. At all costs.” Gabriel shoved his revolver into his hip holster like a cowboy in the Old West.

  If I told them about the space station plans in Amada’s custody near the Leaning Tower, they might storm in and kill those Restorers. I didn’t want the bloodshed.

  “I can do that,” I told them.

  “We also want to have a meeting with this Alliance. Who runs it?” he asked.

  “There’s a board consisting of a member from each race,” I told them. “But my wife is head chair.”

  “Good, good. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement. There has to be a middle ground for us to meet on,” Gabriel said.

  “You’re speaking my language. I’ll be sure to arrange that as soon as we deal with Frasier. He’s making a move tomorrow, and… Markus and I are going with him. We won’t let him accomplish his goals, but we do need to learn what kind of plan he has in store. If he knows about a weapon, that means others around him might as well. We can’t have this threat looming over Earth,” I explained, hoping word of this meeting wouldn’t reach Frasier’s ears.

  “You sound like a confident man, Dean,” Gabriel said.

  “I have a question,” Magnus asked, raising his arm in the air.

  Gabriel stood, arms crossed. “Go ahead.”

  “You, Bonnie. Why were you so frazzled at the villa? You made it seem like this was life and death,” my friend asked.

  Bonnie ran a hand over her spikes, and I noted her glance at Gabriel, seeking approval. He nodded slightly before she spoke. “It is life or death. If Frasier fails at cutting our electrical systems, he’ll reach for more extreme measures.”

  “Which are?” I asked.

  “Targeted nuclear attacks. To each major colony,” Gabriel answered. There were a few gasps in the room from his own people. It was clear that not everyone was as informed as their leader.

  “He already has this prepared?” I asked.

  “You’d be amazed at what was left behind when everyone fled Earth the first time. He accumulated weapons of mass destruction unlike any collection you’ve ever imagined,” Gabriel said. “Plus, there are rumors he’s cut a deal with an outside force.”

  “An outside force?” I asked.

  “That’s all we know. He isn’t very forthcoming with information,” Gabriel replied.

  I thought about Frasier and his passionate speeches, using his calm voice and charisma to bring people to his side. He was a true psychopath, and I was nervous about spending the next day with him. Before I’d met with these people, I was sure I could stop him, at least prevent the worst from happening, but peering over at Magnus and seeing my friend’s pale face, I knew he was feeling it too. We were going to have to imprison Frasier far away, if not kill him, after learning where his cache was secreted.

  “You’ll have a hell of a time tomorrow, Dean, but know that one of us will be there with you,” Gabriel said.

  “Who?”

  “Bonnie, of course,” he said.

  “Good to know we’ll have some backup. Are you staying at the Pisa compound too?” I asked, receiving a nod. She was obviously nervous, and I couldn’t believe she’d remained in Frasier’s ranks so long with those darting eyes.

  “One more thing,” Gabriel said.

  “What’s that?” Magnus sat st
raighter, resting his hands on the table.

  “Watch out for Amada. I suspect she’s managed to use her hard exterior and faithfulness to lure you to her side, but mark my words: she lives for Frasier and will die for the man. Don’t eat the apple, men,” Gabriel warned.

  I cringed. Amada did seem like she might switch sides, that Frasier was going too far, but this group was telling me otherwise. It didn’t matter. Another day and this would all be over. I’d be heading home to Haven to be with my family, Jules would be done with her mission for the Academy, and Magnus would depart for the Horizon to the vast unknowns of space.

  Life would be as it once was.

  “This is a pub, right?” Magnus asked.

  “Once the best this side of the tower,” Gabriel said with pride.

  “Then how about a shot of whiskey before we call it a night?”

  Twenty

  As they carefully trod across the narrow path, Jules couldn’t help but wonder if she was ever going to escape the darkness of the cavern. Every time she heard a pebble or stone being kicked over the edge, clattering over the rocky cliff, she expected it was their time to fall. But they never did, and after another ten minutes or so, she thought her eyes might be starting to acclimate to the eternal night around her. Here one would never know the dying star above existed, or that there were trees, grass, or life at all. There was only the dark, and the ever-present fear of being attacked by the Impaths.

  She considered their name, one that sounded so close to empath: someone that could sense moods or thoughts in another person or being. Perhaps their name implied they affected moods, turning happy thoughts dire as the ceaseless threat of the bat-spiders loomed over their heads.

  In front of her, Dean flinched at a noise, and Jules bumped into him as he stopped. Then the rope around her waist tugged to the right, and she moved accordingly. Jules wondered how far they’d gone, and how much longer it would be until they cleared the cavern. It felt like forever already, but they’d probably only walked thirty meters over the hard-surfaced natural pedway.

  The hair on her arms stood up a split second before she heard the cry. It was more of a whine, a desperate howl for approval from a creature devoid of affection. She knew this, and realized her abilities had activated enough for her to understand the monsters lurking upside down from the sharp protruding spikes twenty feet above their heads.

  Her eyes began to glow, letting her see an inch or two ahead of her, and Jules squinted, not wanting to draw attention to herself. These creatures might not see well in the dark, but she suspected there was a reason they didn’t have the torches. The creatures would notice the flames, even without magnificent sight. Jules didn’t want to be the sole source of illumination in the entire cavern; they might flock to her, and she wasn’t sure she held enough of her Iskios abilities to defend herself, let alone Dean or the other students up ahead.

  Jules had played around with her skills over the years, testing her night vision and other things, always learning new ways she could improve. Her father had been hesitant at first, but eventually, he’d started to come with her to a valley outside of their home, one where no one lived, and they could try different ways for her to use the powers in secret. One night, so black they could hardly see without a light, he’d suggested she attempt to see in the dark. The sky was covered in thick clouds, not a single moonbeam or star visible, and there she’d honed the powerful skill.

  Jules tested it now, her eyes staying dim as she pressed the energy inward. She could make out the form of Dean, his wide shoulders and hesitant steps. She could see! She wanted to rush to the front, to lead them out of the caverns faster, but that would require some serious work and noise.

  Jules glanced up, making out the forms of the stalactites. With this vision, they appeared soft, slightly blurry, as if they’d been molded by a child with clay. She peered around Dean and noticed the end of their path was coming close. Her tense shoulders relaxed a moment too soon.

  The Impaths attacked as one. Six of them descended from above, wingspans only around six feet wide. Legs flailing, they clamped on to Slate, and Jules heard Kira’s cry cut through the fluttering wings. The monsters whined too, their faces contorted in lumpy anger. Jules had to act. She grabbed hold of her rope, searing it with her powers. The end was still on fire from where her hand touched it, and she raced around Dean, past Wentle and Exter Four, and toward Kira.

  The Impaths knew the valley Nirzu’s tricks, and were chewing on the rope as Slate struggled with one of them. They might be too slight to carry away someone Slate’s size, but they had fangs and claws, and three of them were on her uncle, using every asset they had. Slate clocked one of them in the face, and it fell over the pathway, landing with a sickening thud below.

  The creatures worked fast. By the time Jules arrived at Kira, they’d broken through her rope, and one of them clutched the girl under the shoulders, tearing her away from Slate’s grasping arms.

  Gone was the need for silence, and Jules shouted to Slate to stop.

  “Jules, where are you?” Slate asked.

  “I’m here,” she said, arriving at her uncle’s side.

  The Impaths already knew they were here, so Jules removed her barrier, expecting a rush of her powers like usual, but only a little more trickled through. It was like there was a damper on her, one that held most of her power away from contact.

  Her eyes continued to glow, and she left Slate behind asking questions. Wentle was calling after Kira, her cries carrying loudly through the echoey room.

  “Help me! I’m over here!” Kira shouted, her voice trilling with fear.

  “Jules, we have to…” Slate began, but Jules ran past him, grabbing Lolin’s hand.

  “Follow me. First we bring you all to safety,” Jules said, leading them down the winding pathway, high above the bottom of the cavern. She could see shapes better, the objects appearing in crisp green outlines. It wasn’t long until they were at the exit, the round opening in the rock wall a welcome sight.

  They piled through, and Lolin lit her torch, doing the same to the other two, and the Nirzu girl moved Canni, Wentle, and Extel Four further into the corridor.

  Slate, Jules, and Dean stayed near the entrance, and only now did Jules see the rough shape Slate was in. His forehead had a deep gash in it; blood dripped freely into his eyes, making his expression menacing. “We have to go back for her.”

  Jules tested her abilities, knowing they might fail at any moment. She shook her head at Slate’s words. “Uncle Zeke, you’re a mess. Stay here. I’ll retrieve her.” She spoke with a confidence she didn’t feel. Papa had explained to her one time that being a hero didn’t always mean having the right skills or being the bravest. Sometimes it meant showing others confidence, so they could follow you into battle without fear.

  “I’m coming,” Dean said. Jules was about to argue, but the look on the boy’s face was clear. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  Slate leaned against the rock wall and ripped part of his sleeve off, dabbing it to his head. “I’m losing a lot of blood. I’ll have one of the kids patch me up. Go. Take this.” He pressed a pulse rifle into Dean’s hands, and Dean nodded grimly.

  “We go in. They can’t see us, right?” Dean asked, his voice a whisper as they neared the edge of the cavern again.

  “Right.”

  Jules held her pulse pistol firmly and knew they didn’t have long. She could only hope her powers stuck around until Kira was safely returned.

  They returned to the darkness, beyond the torchlight, and instantly heard Kira’s cries. They didn’t last, and soon it was silent. Jules used her vision, and led Dean over the narrow stone pathway.

  She stuck her lips to his ear, speaking so softly, she wasn’t sure he’d even hear her. “I’m going to float over there. When I yell ‘Now,’ turn your lantern on and fire away.”

  He nodded his understanding, and Jules held her breath. Here goes nothing. She filled as much of herself as she coul
d with her Iskios energy, urging it forward. The well wasn’t empty, but it was also far from full, and soon she was tingling around her toes and fingers, her hair feeling electrified as she floated from the ledge toward the ceiling.

  Their nest wasn’t far – thirty meters from where Dean waited – and Jules understood why the Impaths had attacked them. They’d been waiting for the Nirzu group to return through this cavern, and they were hungry.

  Kira was there, stuck with a sticky, stringy substance to one of the sharp rock protrusions. Three of the Impaths were around her, making soft and sickening mewing noises. Jules hovered, her eyes the only evidence someone was near them. She kept them squinted as much as she could and moved to the side, trying to count how many of the creatures were there.

  Jules estimated twelve but was confident more could be hidden within the dark recesses of the undulating ceiling. It was time. They were surrounding Kira; the girl’s eyes were open, the whites turned green in Jules’ vision, but she was unresponsive. Poisoned, perhaps, or unconscious from a contusion to the head.

  Jules held her gun out and counted to three in her head before shouting the word, “Now!” at the top of her lungs. Dean’s light shone, and all the Impaths turned toward Dean on the path. Most of them scuttled upside down over the rocks toward him; others dropped and began flapping leathery wings, hissing angrily.

  Jules shot at them. She clipped two, sending them sprawling to their deaths below.

  “Come and get me!” Jules caught Dean shouting, his pulse fire sending bright bursts through the cave.

  Soon there was only one left near Kira, and it wasn’t going to leave. Jules fired at it, but the Impath evaded her, hiding behind a thick stalactite. Kira’s eyes began moving, her body struggling against the binds that held her.

  “Jules…” Her voice was tiny. “Help me.”

  Jules floated away, attempting to lure the remaining Impath, but it didn’t take the bait. It reached for Kira, and Jules had an idea. She fired at the sticky rope substance holding Kira to the spike, and her aim was true. Kira fell from her perch, the Impath dropping too as it beat its wings.