Night of the Heroes

by Adrian Cole

  The technician, rooted to the spot with terror, emptied his bladder unconsciously as he saw the creature rising from the trolley. Feral power incarnate, like a primeval god of the forest, fangs dripping blood, chest matted with it, Cyberwolf gave vent to a snarl that shook the walls.

  Rage. Howling, blood-hungry rage. Bannerman sank into the crimson pool of its murderous demands, all vestige of humanity shriven from him, all control lost. And unleashed carnage.

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

  The Beast Unleashed

  On the upper levels of the cyclopean building, the group toiled like ants across a huge nest, for the angular landscape up here was deceptively vaster than they had expected. The going was made more difficult by the fact that the construction followed no normal architectural pattern, block after block of irregular shapes locked together, the angles often tilted from the vertical, almost as if the entire structure had been subjected to partial destruction. Between these towering blocks, a number of broken paths wound in a maze across the whole roof, confusing the sense of direction, bereft of any discernible pattern. Whatever creatures had designed this place, and it was no natural formation, they had paid no heed to earthly geometry.

  Reverence, nevertheless, was certain that he could find the external place nearest to where Bannerman was housed. In spite of his tiredness, he urged the group on, sure that they were near to their goal.

  “We must reach him before Fung Chang begins the final part of his working. This night sees the culmination of an number of incursions into our world.”

  No one demurred, but they were all watching the moonlit skies overhead. Already the air seemed to be alive with shadows, suggestions of beings that could not be clearly seen, as if the winds were gathering energies and coagulating, fashioning winged entities, hunters in search of victims.

  “Somewhere beneath us, near here,” said Reverence, leaning against the sloping surface of a huge slab. “Bannerman is down there.”

  “There’s a vent of some kind here,” said Darkwing, indicating a grilled opening, no bigger than the span of his hand.

  Reverence went to it and bent over it, listening. He nodded. “Yes! I can detect the residue of my former entry. It was hereabouts.”

  “But how do we get in?” said Mears. “That hole is just about big enough for a rat. But that’s all.”

  Cradoc bent his huge form down to examine the vent. He gripped the metal grille in one enormous fist and exerted his phenomenal strength. Something in the stonework snapped and a dozen cracks appeared across the surface of the rock. The company drew back as Cradoc heaved again until he had ripped a sizeable hole in the surface. He turned to Konnar and indicated the Barbarian’s sword. Konnar understood what was needed and immediately used the point of his weapon to clean out the loose material from between the exposed joints around the hole. When he had done, Cradoc was able to slide his fingers into the first of these and pull.

  The others gaped at this awesome demonstration of strength. Inch by inch, a huge stone block came sliding out of the wall, until Cradoc was able to put both arms around it and swing it aside and let it tumble down the path. He leaned into the opening he had made and used his shoulder to work another block loose. Moments later he swung that one outward as well and it followed the first.

  While the company waited, Cradoc worked his way deeper into the stone wall, clearing out more blocks like a gigantic mole tunneling into the earth, morphing himself as though his body were constituted of no more than soft mud. Shapes were materialising in the air above now: they began to swoop down, scanning the roof area, aware that intruders were there. Mears averted his gaze, though he had pulled out the gun and was ready to attempt to use it if any of those horrors came too close.

  “We can follow,” said Konnar, himself watching the skies, sword poised to stab at anything that moved against the group.

  Reverence and Jameson went first, followed by Mears and Darkwing, with Konnar bringing up the rear. Of all of them, he seemed to relish an opportunity to draw the blood of the enemy. They moved not a moment too soon, for the first of the clawed attackers were already snapping at the entrance, their talons clashing with Konnar’s steel. Something shrieked as the blade bit deep into leathery flesh.

  The tunnel Cradoc was boring was narrow and steep, but it was large enough to permit the company to edge forward by crouching, shuffling like crabs down to a faint light source. They were through the outer walls, Cradoc now shoveling aside mounds of earth and somehow compacting it, barely allowing passage. But the threat of the nightmarish pursuit goaded them on.

  “There’s a chamber below us,” Reverence called back, the earth walls muffling the sound. “Cradoc is going to breach its ceiling.”

  A rumble and clatter of stone signified that the huge being had done just that and before anyone could react, they all found themselves sliding down a steep chute of earth. Panic swept through them all, but one by one they landed softly, struggling to their feet. They had dropped down through a ragged hole in the ceiling of a long, low chamber, their falls broken by the mound of stone and soil that had preceded them. The chamber had been cut from solid rock, its walls and floor bare, the place apparently deserted, like an empty store. Or a store yet to be used, thought Mears. Light suffused it gently, seeping through the ceiling like phosphorescent paint, a sickly green.

  Konnar dropped to the floor last. “They won’t be in a hurry to follow us. They’re winged and they don’t like going underground. Besides, I’ve jammed two corpses back there and pulled a rock or two down from the tunnel’s roof.”

  “What in Heaven’s name were they?” said Jameson.

  “Better not to ask,” said Darkwing. “So, Mr. Reverence, where to now?”

  The detective looked at the far end of the chamber, where a single door barred their way. It looked very solid, probably bolted from outside, but would hardly be a challenge to Cradoc, who was already striding towards it.

  “Wait,” called Reverence and at once Cradoc paused, watching him. “Bannerman is above us. I’m sure of it. I can feel him. He seems to be exuding enormous energy, almost like a fire.”

  “Then he’s become reunited with his body,” said Mears. And become Cyberwolf.

  Reverence moved further into the chamber and looked up at the ceiling. “There!” he said with an air of triumph. “Cradoc, can you break through?”

  The big being needed no second bidding. From the pile of rubble that had come down with their entry, he fashioned enough heaped debris to enable him to reach the low ceiling. His hands worked at it for a moment before he took Konnar’s sword and used it to dig into the resisting surface.

  They did not know it, but directly above them was the laboratory to which Bannerman’s inert body had been brought by Ricketts and left for Fujimoto. Since the carnage wrought by Cyberwolf, in which several technicians were slaughtered like cattle, their bloody corpses flung this way and that, the laboratory had been sealed by Fung Chang’s servants. Its doors were of steel plate, its walls reinforced. Bannerman, in the enforced guise of Cyberwolf, had broken free of his physical inertia, only to find himself trapped here. Gradually the killing madness had subsided and he had sunk down, coming out of the red haze like an addict in withdrawal. But he forced himself to concentrate. The only way he could free himself would be through Cyberwolf’s power. And cyberspace was no longer a safe option.

  It’s getting worse. Hyde is winning out. I can use the power, but is it ultimately going to mean the end of me, Bannerman? It wants that, hungers for it.

  As he sat, trying to marshal his thoughts and subdue the anger that still flowed like acid in his veins, he felt movement. The floor was shaking, instruments on the benches rattling, jars toppling. He leapt back, Cyberwolf reacting before he could return to his own form. A long crack appeared under a bench, widening. The bench leaned into the hole and suddenly a whole section of floor collapsed. Cyberwolf was flung back, talons ripping at the air in a wild, instinctive slash.

&n
bsp; Cradoc shielded the group from the tumbling section of ceiling and what had come through it: chairs, benching and various piles of equipment. Brighter light speared down from the long hole above. And in the jumble of stone, plaster and furniture, a figure took shape, rising up like a demon.

  “We’ve found him!” cried Mears, swinging round to face the strange being as it staggered to its feet. But his relief turned to horror as Cyberwolf came into the light. He was tall, his muscular form emanating a physical, animal strength. It was a human face that regarded Mears, but only just. The angles of its lower jaw, the width of its nose and the crimson eyes all spoke of something dark and primitive, an atavistic blood-lust that went back to beyond the dawn of the first men. And the long arms, the curved blades of the talons, they filled Mears with utter dread. Here was a predator that would have been a match for a sabre-tooth tiger, twice as powerful, filled with volcanic emotions that no wild beast could ever have known.

  Somewhere deep inside the beast, Bannerman felt his grip slipping again. Rage. Uncontrollable, the mad, driving force behind Cyberwolf that gave it its power over its enemies. No compromise.

  For a second, Mears read something in the creature’s eyes, sorrow, remorse, it was too fleeting. Then it had been replaced by a scalding fury. And Cyberwolf struck. An arm swung, its speed blurring.

  Mears felt only the parting of the air, but looking down saw the bloody ruin of his chest and abdomen. He made to speak, but his legs would no longer support him and he dropped as if boneless.

  Konnar had reacted with mesmerising speed, almost equal to that of Cyberwolf. He leapt forward, chopping down with his blade. Cyberwolf caught it between two scythe-like claws, turning it. As Konnar rolled with the twisting parry, forcing Cyberwolf back a pace, Cradoc came behind them both. His huge arms locked up around Cyberwolf in a half nelson, those spade-like hands clasping together at the nape of his neck. Amazingly, Cradoc lifted Cyberwolf off the ground.

  Tremendous energies pulsed through the both of them, momentarily canceling each other out. The veins stood out on both their superhuman forms as if they would explode. Konnar had recovered his balance. He readied his sword for an upward stroke that would have disemboweled Cyberwolf, who was powerless to swing aside, his muscular belly at the Barbarian’s mercy.

  “No!” cried Reverence. “Don’t kill him, Konnar. We need him.”

  Konnar hesitated. “He’s gone mad. If he breaks free, we lose our chance to control him.”

  Cradoc’s grip, however, was unbreakable. Something in Bannerman struggled to the surface, warring desperately with the awful power of the Cyberwolf beast. He went limp, no longer resisting. Cradoc held on, not yet prepared to let his victim drop to the floor.

  Jameson had bent over Mears, dabbing at the bloody mess of his chest. “My God, he’s bleeding to death! He needs surgery at once if he’s to have any chance.”

  Reverence pointed to the laboratory overhead. “Get him up there.”

  Darkwing faced Cyberwolf, whose features had slightly softened, though the gaze was still more lupine than human. “Bannerman, can you hear me?”

  “Yes,” the voice growled. “It’s all right. I’m in control again. Cyberwolf is withdrawing. But don’t let your big friend let go of me yet. You can’t imagine what it’s like trying to stop it —” As he spoke, his body began to shrink, the lines of his face smoothing out, flattening to become the face of Bannerman.

  “What the hell happened?” said Darkwing, forcing his own anger back. He turned to watch as the semi-conscious Mears was lifted gently. “Why did you attack him?”

  “It’s the nature of the beast,” Bannerman panted, breath rasping with effort. “Cyberwolf is a danger to us all. I’ve been trying to avoid transformation for some time. It’s become a monster, a ravening thing. Perfect killing machine, sure. But without control, it just explodes. You saw what it can do. Cyberwolf no longer makes distinctions.”

  “You can put him down,” Darkwing told Cradoc. “Help get Mears up into the lab.”

  Cradoc did so but Konnar’s sword still menaced Bannerman, who sagged down, energy spent. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. You don’t know how much I fought against this. It has to be stopped.”

  “If Fung Chang got hold if this,” said Konnar, “and all of us, he would be invincible.”

  They fell silent while Cradoc found a way of getting Mears up into the laboratory. Once they had all clambered up through its wrecked floor, they gathered around him. Jameson stretched him out on a makeshift operating table, examining the frightful wound.

  “What now?” said Konnar.

  “We’ve achieved the one thing that Fung Chang sought to avoid,” said Reverence. “We are together. It’s what he feared. Alas, poor Mears is not one of the five who are six. But he has played his part marvelously. Without him, we would not have come together.”

  “But we’re trapped,” said Bannerman. “Fung Chang will have sealed all exits.”

  Konnar snorted. “Cradoc will open the walls for us.” Cradoc was already checking the walls, looking for a weakness.

  Bannerman shook his head. “Not this night. He’s done as much damage as Fung Chang will allow. The powers that have been called down are all around us. We’re sealed in, believe me.”

  “A stalemate?” said Darkwing.

  “I think so,” nodded Reverence. “If Fung Chang sends in his forces, he has no guarantee that he’ll subdue us. Or whatever it is that powers us.”

  “What do you mean?” said Darkwing.

  But Reverence dismissed it with an airy wave of his hand and turned instead to Jameson. “How is Mears?”

  “He’s alive, but if you want the truth, Reverence, it’s only a matter of time. A dozen surgeons couldn’t save him. That blow almost tore him in half.”

  Bannerman shook his head, his face lined with remorse.

  Beyond them, the steel doors of the laboratory suddenly hummed into life. The group stood in silence, tensing for whatever attack might come, spreading out, weapons readied. But no one entered. The doors gaped, darkness beckoning. It had to be a trap.

  Cradoc eased forward, remarkably light on his feet, flattening himself against the wall. He reached the doors and waited. Seconds dripped away. No further movement. Cradoc leaned forward. After an age, he beckoned the others forward.

  Konnar was first to him. “See anything?”

  Cradoc shook his huge head.

  “What do you think?” Konnar asked Darkwing.

  “I don’t fancy being cooped up in this hole for any length of time. Stalemate or not, it’s some sort of trap, but if it means we can put a dent in Fung Chang’s plans, let’s move.”

  Konnar grinned coldly. “Just so. But what about Mears? We cannot leave him.”

  Darkwing shook his head. “No.” He turned to Reverence. “Maybe you and the doc ought to try carrying him.”

  “I’ll do it,” said Bannerman. “Believe me, I’ll do it.” He went back to Jameson, who had done his best to repair the leaking damage to Mears.

  “If we move him,” said Jameson, “it will only expedite his death.”

  “We can’t just leave him. And we can’t stay here,” said Bannerman. “If by sticking together we have a chance to defy Fung Chang, then Mears has to come with us. If we leave him here, he’ll die anyway.”

  Jameson shrugged. He looked mortified. “I’ve done all I can.”

  Bannerman bent down and gently lifted the limp form. It was warm, the life within it still stirring, but he could feel it slowly ebbing away.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  The Opening of the Way

  Beyond the doors, a tilted corridor, a dozen feet high, sloped downwards, into the heart of the building. The floor was of stone, smooth blocks that seemed worn with the passage of something large and worm-like over countless eons. On either side of the corridor, at regular intervals, curved arches supported it like the gnarled boughs of immense trees or twisted roots, giving the place a tunnel-like feel as though i
t had been burrowed rather than cut by human hands. The air was unduly hot, the lower end of the corridor glowing with pale light, little stronger than the moon-glow.

  The company moved down the uneven tunnel cautiously, anticipating an attack at any time. There were no corridors running off, but an increasing number of alcoves and in each of these a strangely carved figurine squatted on its block. Batrachian, serpentine, things from deep beneath the sea, faces distorted into horribly grinning masks, leering with bulging eyes at those who passed. In the glow they seemed almost alive, about to hop or flop into the passage in wriggling pursuit.

  A long way down, the tunnel ended in a double arch, the curve of which was deeply engraved with sigils, glyphs and more glowering faces of the most frightful kind. They spoke of a race from beyond the dawn of time, of an era when all life swam, crawled or slithered, barely able to drag itself from the murky soup of proto-history. And in the pitch void of darkness beyond, a murmuring of countless deep voices rose and fell in soft, resonant tides, like waves shifting to and fro on sand.

  As the company paused at the gateway, the light grew enough for them to see into the beyond. It was an immense cavern, which Reverence recognised at once. He had been here in his astral form and seen the crowded acolytes. Overhead, the arch of the cavern was like the inside of an immense, domed cathedral, its vaults and quoins shrouded in blackness, though this shivered as if alive, the haven of some invisible swarm, creatures gathered like bats. Creatures best left unseen.

  On the slabs of the floor directly beyond the portal, inlaid designs were set into the stone, converging like long spokes to the centre of this place, itself a wide mandala. On the far side of the dome, high up in its arches directly opposite the place where the company now stood, was a circular opening out on to the night sky. Stars flickered there and moonlight edged the left side of the opening, presaging the imminent passing of the moon. The opening beckoned, a way out of this bizarre place, but the company to a man knew again that this could only be a trap.