Hive III

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Hive III Page 6

by Griffin Hayes


  Sneak’s confused ‘cause we haven’t made a sound, but it isn’t sound that’s drawing them. The thought of Ret and the others pulled my focus away from staying off Zee central. I couldn’t have let it slip for more than a fraction of a second, but it was enough for them to detect my presence. Skuld’s standing instructions are no doubt to kill us all on sight. I turn and see Klaus. The horror on his face makes it clear he’s about to tear off but I grab his arm.

  “If you run, you’re dead,” I say and I can tell he isn’t sure whether I mean he’ll get it from the Zees or from me and I’m happy to keep it that way.

  The Zees are on us in matter of seconds. We opt for blades. Sneak’s crouched low, a dagger ready in each hand, when they scramble over the rise, hissing. She spins and slices through the brain cavity of the first two. The light in their eyes flickers before they collapse to the ground.

  Klaus has his standard issue Keeper rifle and he’s riddling their bodies with bullets, but nothing’s happening.

  “In the head,” I shout over the chaos, just as three Zees lunge at me. I bring the Katana straight down and feel only the slightest resistance as the blade glides through the creature’s skull and upper torso. The second one gets a push kick to the chest while I finish the third with a thrust through the eye socket. The second regains its footing, but by then it’s too late and his head rolls off his body before he knows what hit him. Klaus is now firing three round bursts and manages to drop two of them.

  Sneak and I finish the last of them and I can’t help but wonder how easily this woulda gone down if I’d been able to control them with thoughts instead of steel. There must be a way around it. A way to use at least some of Skuld’s Zees against him.

  Glancing over at Klaus, the young Keeper looks like he’s just dropped a load in his shorts. His chest rises and falls with short, spastic breaths.

  Sneak wipes the gore off her blades and sheaths them.

  “You’ve never killed before, have you?” I ask him.

  He shakes his head, his eyes scanning the bodies piled around us like fish at an open market. “No.”

  Sneak smiles and pats one of his quivering hands. ‘Good job’ is what that pat means and Klaus lets out a dry laugh that sounds more like a raspy cough.

  I can’t help but laugh myself. She has a weak spot for the dopey ones.

  We’re heading toward the underground passage to Attica and the desiccated body of the messenger lying before it when I catch hold of the faint glimmer of Zee code.

  “We need to hurry,” I say.

  “What is it?” Klaus asks with alarm.

  I point through a screen of foliage that overlooks the valley below. The two of them rush at once to look and all I hear is: “Newton save us!”

  It’s Klaus, of course, and if he hadn’t crapped his pants before, he’s surely doing it now. I should have realized before, but with that pocket of Zees charging at us I was more than a little distracted. We weren’t able to kill them quick enough, not before they could send out a signal to the others that we were here. And the sight that Sneak and Klaus are marvelling at? It’s a huge mass of Zees, reeling away from the city walls like an undulating flock of birds, heading straight for us. Worse than that, the fastest ones are almost here.

  -16-

  Ret

  A series of rolling hills surround Attica on all sides. We approach from the south and no sooner crest the smallest peak than we catch sight of a city being overrun. An ocean of Zees swarm the walls, pouring through the capital’s main gate. Skuld must have ordered his fastest Zees to rush in before there was time to swing shut the massive doors. Even from up here, the sounds of chaos and death are clear. Smoke begins to rise from a dozen or so places. The tiny pop of automatic weapons fire in the distance is the most striking sound. Surely Keepers stationed on the walls are pouring fire into the black mass below them, knowing all the while that their families are being slaughtered or turned into monsters and there isn’t a thing they can do about it. Beside me, Oleg, has that skeptical look on his face again, like he’s just realized going down there is suicide. But not everyone’s feeling the same way. There’s a fire in Bron’s eyes, and it’s clear enough that he can’t wait to get into the thick of things. The sound of squealing metal draws my attention to Dhal, seated in the hollowed out head of the Titan, clutching the controls of the massive robot with glee. Along the way, the kid told us that removing the pilot from the machine’s cockpit was a major innovation which allowed Goliath to autonomously follow a set of simple instructions. The Titan was, in many ways, just as leathal, except it required a human pushing pedals and yanking levers. Even the metal sheeting around the head rolls back over the driver on a set of hinges to keep him secure. But it’s hot as hell in there, Dhal tells us. To which Bron replies: “I can just see us opening that hatch and finding nothing but a bunch of soaking rags.”

  It’s the belching black smoke that makes subtlety and breathing difficult, though the Titan more than makes up for any of those deficiencies. Sure it isn’t packing any weaponry. What it lacks in firepower, it more than makes up for in brute force. I’m sure it’ll cut through Zees like a hot stone on a sheet of ice.

  “The Patriarch has a secret passageway somewhere around here,” Oleg says.

  Azina used to get mighty frustrated with the old guy when he’d start up like this. Oleg’s always looking for a way around the tough jobs, although the swarming mass down there is making me wonder if he might just have a point.

  “Assaulting the city head on with that many Zees around is just plain stupid,” I say and I can tell right away that Bron disagrees. The main reason’s ‘cause he’s itching to use his new toys, but that doesn’t mean he’s got to put the rest of us into needless peril.

  Dhal’s still perched in the driver’s seat of that bronze behemoth when he leans over. “I’m not sure what this secret passage looks like, but if it sure as heck better have a high ceiling or I ain’t getting through the door.”

  He’s got a point and whatever light of hope that’d started glowing in Oleg’s eyes, is quickly doused.

  I turn to the old man. “If Skuld reaches the Queen first, what happens then?”

  Oleg clears his throat. “He kills her, presumably. In a worst case scenario, he manages to absorb her powers. If that occurs, I suggest we head north and find a cave where we can shelter and pray to all the gods he won’t send his minions to find us.”

  Bron’s checking the spring loaded grappling hook on his arm when he lets out an ominous laugh. “I’d sooner let those things tear me apart than live in some cave like a frightened animal.”

  Dhal agrees. “So what do we do, Ret?”

  Now everyone’s looking at me, but giving the order that effectively hands them a death sentence isn’t nearly as easy as it looks. The truth, however, is that there aren’t many options open to us, except to go forward. We all know it, even if stopping Skuld is a long shot. Grow a pair, Azina liked to say, and truer words have never been spoken.

  I’m about to speak when we see something astonishing. A colossal chunk of the Zees surrounding the city peel away and begin charging up a nearby hill. Looks like they’re after something, or someone. But it must be someone important. Someone worth killing at all costs.

  Azina?

  “What do you make of it?” Oleg says and he’d be happy to stand around for the next week, analysing the crap out of the situation, but I know exactly what this means.

  “It’s our lucky day. Everyone gear up.”

  Oleg looks down at the pistol in his hand like I’m talking to him. I finish loading the last few shells into the drum magazine of my automatic shotgun, click it into place and pull the slide. Bron’s making some final adjustments to the sights on his 20mm guns.

  I glance down at a city in its death throes and can’t help wishing Azina and Sneak were here with us.

  •••

  Skuld

  Azina’s heading into the city. The Zees I have pursuing her
through the Patriarch’s underground passage tell me so, their Zee code running back and forth behind my eyes. But she’ll never reach us in time. Already my army is ransacking the city as the rest of us make our way toward Newton’s Grand Temple and ever closer to the Queen, locked beneath that holy place in a stupefied slumber. Activating all the Hives began the process of stirring her awake. It didn’t take long for that to become apparent, although her powers, even in her weakened state, made it all the more necessary to dispatch her as soon as possible.

  A third horde is currently after the Patriarch, who’s surely hold up inside the main keep. Every city has one and it’s considered a final line of defence, once the walls are breached. He’s a silly, predictable man and I’ll enjoy tearing his eyeballs from his face, but not before I relish in the horror and surprise when he sees what I’ve become. Not that he’ll understand my true magnificence, nor the irony that I’m the pinnacle of what our Keeper ancestors attempted to create, two centuries ago. Surely they never imagined we would look like monsters. Surely they never recognized our full potential.

  Plak and the other councillors from Sotercity are by my side as we enter Newton’s Temple. It’s cool and spacious, with incredibly high ceilings, decorated with images of planets and stars. Behind the altar, a shaft of natural light illuminates a solitary apple tree.

  A detachment of Wardens spill out from the cloisters and begin firing right away. I wave the Zees forward, watching through each of their eyes at once. And I can’t help but think of Newton again, since this is the closest to a god any man has ever been, and the feeling is pure intoxication. On they charge, scrambling over pews and up the aisles. The Wardens fill the air with lead, but these men have never fought Zees before and their bullets riddle their bodies, ignoring the heads. The first Zee to reach their lines is a woman, dressed in a baker’s apron, and the mere act of shifting my awareness toward her lets me see her entire history laid out before me. Two bright children and a husband she loved dearly. All of them working hard in the family bread shop in Sotercity. One step up from a Grinder, with dreams of a bright future. She was the first to turn, when that sorry excuse for a city was invaded, and at once she attacked her husband. And when he was dead, she finished off the children. But she had traded one family for another. A much larger family. One which would never disappoint or try to hurt her.

  She leaps through the air and lands on a terrified Warden who’s scrambling to reload. She tears a mouthful of flesh from his face and keeps gnashing with insatiable hunger. The man beside them shouts and brings the butt of his rifle down on her head and opens her skull. She stops moving at once, but right behind her are hundreds more, just like her.

  Bodies pile up around them and a young Warden lieutenant sounds the retreat, except it’s too late for that now and the wave of Zees are on them before they can turn their backs to flee.

  Directly beneath the temple are the catacombs, which contain the bodies of the first Keepers. But it’s what lies under those dried and porous bones that really interests me. As powerful as I’ve become, I can feel the Queen’s mind, pulling at my own, delicate fingers snaking through my thoughts like the electrified wires in one of engineer Lund’s creations. The feeling is strange and somehow euphoric, and there isn’t any doubt that when I tear her limb from limb, that feeling will fade and be gone forever.

  But I must strike soon, before she’s able to emerge completely from her sleep. Otherwise, all these Zees, held so tightly within my grasp, will shift their allegiance at once and visit upon me everything I’d planned for the Queen and more.

  Off the South Transept is a gate over a set of stone steps. A handful of infected Wardens rise and join us, their flesh now brown, their eyes glowing faintly. I approach the gate, grab the bars and rip them from the wall with as much ease as tearing a page from a child’s book. Down we descend, through the catacombs, past bones cloaked in dusty red robes, staring back from nooks carved into the hard stone wall.

  Some of the corpses get snagged in the flood of rushing Zees and tumble to the ground. At one time, I might have seen this as a desecration. Today, it’s nothing more than poetic justice. Our ancestors’ eternal rest is being undone by the very creatures they created. The very creatures that will help them do away with the old world and rebuild a new one in their own image.

  At last we arrive before a dirt wall with a steel door, dull now with the passage of time. The sight reminds me of when the scholars from the old world discovered the tombs of the ancient pharaohs. Those too were set in limestone. It’s only the metal door that kills the otherwise perfect illusion. The ancient Keeper records from the archive made it clear enough that the Queen’s resting place would be sealed and impenetrable. It was a door built without a key because the ancestors couldn’t imagine ever needing to open it and, even now, standing before it, I can feel the Queen’s influence growing stronger. I draw my eyes closed and concentrate on sending out a proper signal. The Zees around me are standing perfectly still, some are turning back and forth as though two competing signals are wrestling for their attention. The doubt is what is causing the problem. The door looks so impenetrable I can’t imagine how to get past it and in that gap of leadership, the Zees turn to the next best thing. But then everything becomes clear. Why go through it when you can go around? With my brainwave, the Zees begin digging, scraping their nails along the walls like a pack of moles, burrowing a new home. Soon the flesh on their digits strips away, revealing bone, and now we’re really making progress. The Zees who can’t dig ferry the rock dust back and out of the way. Some, with arms reduced to little more than radial bones, make way for their undamaged brethren. This same routine continues for close to an hour before the wall around the thick steel door is completely excavated. With a moan it begins to teeter and then, in a single motion, comes crashing to the ground, flattening a dozen unsuspecting Zees and filling the passageway with thick, choking clouds of dust.

  I wave Plak forward. “Are you ready to make history?”

  -17-

  Ret

  The sound of thundering footsteps and grating metal joints echo around us as Dhal leads the charge. He’s strapped into that twenty foot, smoke belching monster and, even behind the protective metal visor, I can still hear him whooping and hollering with joy. The fool thinks he’s invulnerable. The rest of us struggle to keep up. With all those Zee chasing something in the surrounding hills, we might just make it into the city before they return. We make first contact with a few Zee outliers at about the same time we reach the foot of the hill. They barely have a chance to hiss before Dhal plows into them. A red burst of blood and bone explodes off the machine’s legs. At a full run, Bron lobs a handful of grenades ahead of us to clear a path. He’s timed each detonation to trigger a half dozen feet in the air, tearing gaping holes in their ranks. Some of them are beginning to notice our assault and turn to face us. That’s when Bron plants his feet and unleashes a hail of fire. The explosive shells rip into them. Arms and legs are sent spinning in mid-air.

  We’re approaching the gate when a pack surges in at us from the side.

  “Contact right,” I yell. The Zees are less than a dozen feet away when I open up with my automatic shotgun. One Zee out front, who looks like a Grinder from Sotercity, has his head blown clear off. The rest of him keeps running for three more steps before crashing to the ground.

  Now Bron’s got one arm pointing right, laying down a hail of destructive fire, his explosive shells penetrating five or six Zees deep before detonating. The carnage is awe inspiring. The sheer look of exhilaration on Bron’s face tells me he agrees. On our left, another group of Zees comes charging in at us. Oleg pops away with his pistol and I’d be surprised if he hit a single one. I swing left and engage them. I’ve already used a quarter of the ammo in my drum magazine and I’m doing my best to make every shot count. The last thing anyone wants is to be in the middle of a reload when a pack of Zees reaches your lines.

  The dead and dying are piled at ou
r feet, but these aren’t just Zees. These are the citizens of the capital, caught in the crushing wave of snapping jaws. Already some have changed into creatures themselves and joined ranks with the Zees. On the walls, a handful of Keepers are still firing down into the streets when they’re attacked by a group of Zees, rushing along the battlements, hissing, their eyes glowing white hot.

  Before me, Dhal is taking out dozens of them at a time with giant sweeps of his arm. Others he’s crushing under the heels of his metallic feet. I see one Zee jump on him and begin scaling his back. Then another and, soon after that, a third. It’s almost as if they know Dhal’s in there. Swinging the shotgun around, I blast them off, but I see more of them coming.

  “We need to get out of here,” I shout. “Before we’re overrun.”

  Dhal’s still pounding away, oblivious to the six Zees climbing up the Titan’s back. That’s when I spot a Hive leader and realize their organized behavior isn’t just by random chance. This guy’s big, his skin red with black patches. That can only mean he isn’t just one of Skuld’s sergeants. This guy’s something more and he’s marshalling all of his resources to take us out.

  I level my shotgun and blast a few rounds but the bastard doesn’t do anything more than smile. He isn’t stupid, that much is certain. He knows I don’t have the range. Although I know someone who does. I tap Bron’s right side and he swings around.

  “Hive leader, on the roof of that food depot,” I shout over the hail of fire. “Two o’clock.”

  Bron growls and lobs three grenades in his direction. The explosions send up a cloud of concrete dust and debris and, when it settles, the Hive leader is gone. Splattered on the roof tiles I hope, although I’m certainly not counting on it.

  It’s only when I glance behind us that I realize the least of our troubles. That horde of Zees in the hills is coming back and our only hope is to close the city gates before they reach us.

 

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