“I am Admiral Janelle Ursler,” the ophidian said. “And you would be the Paladins. What do you need to know?”
“First, we need to know more details about the screamers,” Laura said. “Gavin said they could control light. To what extent?”
“Also,” Ling couldn't help herself asking, “why is an admiral in charge?”
“They can shoot beams of light which explode on contact,” she said, ignoring Ling's question. “Not a big explosion, not even enough to kill a man, but it adds up quickly. We've also spotted quite a few singers, which is how it's spreading so fast. We killed a couple, but it hasn't had much effect.”
Laura frowned. “I should have expected as much. I take it you killed any angels they captured? Otherwise, we'd have seen their light.”
“Actually, we found an alternative solution.”
They all turned to see a massive naked and androgynous angel stride forward confidently, despite the fact that he clearly couldn't see more than two feet in front of him. He was nearly seven feet tall, with unblemished alabaster skin that almost seemed to glow even in the dull nightlights. He was muscled like a championship boxer, but moved gracefully—again, even though he was basically blind. Ling didn't pay too much attention to the angels, but even she recognized him.
Zaphkiel, the Watcher, founder of the angels. Arch-Saint of Chronias, warlord of the Illuminated Host. He hadn't led a battle in years, but warlords spent millions on their bodies. Ling had no doubt that this man could fight off armies with his bare hands, half-blind or not.
But against an enemy that could infect you with a single drop of blood, he was powerless.
“We spread angelweight through the air,” he said. “It negates the abilities of the dayskin, rendering the turned angels powerless.”
“I've heard about that,” Laura said. “It's a drug,” she explained for the benefit of the rest of them. “It works through skin contact, acts fast, with few side effects, and is very easy to cure.” She turned back to the warlord. “You have a stock of the Grace?”
The massive angel tapped what looked like a watch on his wrist. “Every angel in our domain has one of these. It is a simple matter to administer some Grace, which will cure the angelweight in minutes. However, the screamers are not intelligent enough to use it.”
“Inspired,” Derek said. “Hopefully, we can finish this up soon. With the drug distributed, the skies are safe, and we can spread some sleep gas around.”
“Can't,” Laura cut in. “We're out.”
Ling blinked. “The entire city is out of sleeping gas?”
She glared. “Yes, actually. They've been using a lot of it, to get the screamers to the prison facilities. And then a few days ago, the manufacturing plant shut down when one of the employees threw himself down a very important maintenance shaft.”
Ling shivered. That would be more sleepers, no doubt. Laura said she had something in the works regarding that, but Ling didn't have a lot of confidence on that front. Villains didn't have their main plots foiled because a scientist finally figured out a cure or whatever. Maybe if this was a sub-plot...
Derek interrupted her thoughts. “You were going to mention this when?”
Laura just rolled her eyes. “Until today, I had no reason to suspect it was anything but an accident. Silver and gold, it might have been. We still don't know how the Composer works. The point is, other plants are picking up the slack, but that takes time.”
Derek opened his mouth to say something, then apparently decided not to bother arguing. “That's a question for another time,” he said decisively. “I'll go back the way we came with Akane and Ling to see if we can make a dent in the screamers.”
Ling frowned. She hated being ordered around. The fact that his orders actually made sense made it easier to deal with, but only barely.
“Good luck,” Laura said. “And be careful.”
They left a moment later, finding their way back to the disturbingly dark Chronias within a few minutes. Once they were out of the nightlights, their eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, but with the cloud cover, it was still only enough to see vague shapes.
“It's times like this I wish I still had nighteyes,” Ling muttered. That got a smile out of the others, but nothing else. It wasn't like they had time to stop at the nearest toy store and get modded.
It wasn't hard to find the screamers, even without any light. There were a lot of them. A thousand, maybe more, just standing in the streets screaming. Apparently, without light to manipulate, they were largely helpless. Sure, they smashed windows and threw garbage cans around, but it was nothing a few small community cleanup projects wouldn't fix. It almost seemed silly.
No. Silly wasn't the right word. Petty. The Composer had a horde of night-blind, helpless screamers, and was angry about it. This was all he could do with them.
Which made Ling realize something.
“The Composer is going to be here soon with light,” she said. “Or he'll manage to use one of these to turn on a light switch.”
Akane shrugged. “Kill them before then, then.”
Derek shook his head. “No. No killing unless absolutely necessary. We can capture them, like the others.”
“No time, like Ling said,” Akane said with a frown. “On the clock here.”
“Then we'd better move fast.” His tone brooked no argument. He headed forward, into the crowd of blind, violent screamers, and they reluctantly followed.
They didn't even need to fight. Most of the zombies had dayeyes, so they were completely nightblind. All they had to do was be a little careful to keep out of their way. The majority of the civilians had apparently managed to keep away from the singers, which was definitely a good sign. Without a source of fresh bodies, this battle would just take time.
Time they didn't have, unfortunately.
“Singers are in the middle,” Akane said after a minute. They were moving carefully through the horde, avoiding flailing limbs. “If we can kill them, this gets much easier.”
“Unless Derek insists we can't kill them,” Ling said dryly.
“We wouldn't be able to carry them out,” Derek said. “Nothing short of killing will keep them down for long. A few dozen deaths for a few thousand lives is an acceptable trade.”
That was what he said, anyway. But the firm set of his shoulders and frustrated look in his eyes made it clear that he didn't like the idea.
“Akane, scout ahead,” he ordered, likely to distract himself.
She sped off without a word, while Derek and Ling followed at a slower pace. Stopping was out of the question. The zombies were easy enough to avoid while moving, but if they stayed in the same place they'd pile on them in seconds.
“Counted about a dozen,” Akane said as she blurred to Derek's side. “Probably more.”
Derek nodded. “Let's kill them quickly. If we're lucky, the screamers will be cured.”
It was a long shot, and everyone knew it, but there was still the chance.
But then the lights turned on.
Ling shielded her face against the sudden glare, but even half-blind she could tell what was going on. Every building along the street, every streetlight... the entire horde was suddenly bathed in light. On the other side of the street, opposite of where we came, she saw screamers maintaining a number of portable generators, which were probably hooked up to everything else.
And suddenly, the screamers could see them.
A trap. Wonderful. Should have known it was too easy.
Chapter 47: MUSICAE
ADAM
Adam took out another singer with his Athena. Kelly and the rest of the retinue were busy keeping the screamers off Derek, but they'd overwhelm him soon. They were out of reach for the moment, on top of a short building, but that couldn't last. The zombies were starting to notice them, and would start scaling the building any second.
He had tried shooting out the lights, but his aim wasn't good enough, and the streetlights were only a small part
of the problem anyway. Most of the glow—bright enough to illuminate the entire street as if it was day—came from inside the buildings.
At least the 'sarians had found a way around the singers' infection. The retinue and Adam were all wearing big, bulky headphones that filtered through all the external noise, removed any hint of the song, and played it back for them. There was a lag of a few milliseconds, which was very dangerous in the middle of combat, but it was either that or stab out their own eardrums.
“Some Draculas will be here in about half an hour with an EMP,” MC said into Adam's ear. “Can you hold out 'til then?”
He shot another singer in the chest. He wasn't quite good enough to reliably get headshots. “Maybe. But Derek and the girls won't, and if we try to protect them we'll get swarmed too.”
There was a brief pause. “One sec, I think they've got an idea.”
He turned his attention to Derek's blue force field, flickering every time a laser struck it. The attacks were coming in faster, and it was clearly taxing him to keep up the shield. But then...
The street swallowed them.
The asphalt under their feet opened up, like a great big maw, and sealed itself up after they fell in. The screamers milled around in confusion for a few minutes, before they began to notice us again.
“MC,” Adam said as calmly as he could, “are they all right?”
“Yeah. I mean, I can't get a signal, so I'm not sure...”
He switched to his Caedes as the horde pressed closer. “But that was the plan, right?”
He could almost hear her nodding. “Yes, yes, that was the plan. In a few minutes, once their reservoirs are replenished, they'll pop back up and sneak attack the horde.”
He frowned as he unleashed a barrage on some of the closer zombies. “But isn't their only attack Ling? And she needs to conserve her strength.”
“Derek will flicker the shield long enough for Akane to run out and attack. I have stuff to do. Focus on the screamers in front of you.”
Adam nodded. Derek knew what he was doing. Adam needed to stop asking questions. “Got it.”
“Oh, there is one more thing. Keep an eye out for Zaphkiel. We think he jumped the fence.”
Adam cursed under his breath. Wonderful. Now they had a crazy racist running around.
But he didn't have time to worry about that. The screamers were scaling up the side of the building and would be in laser range soon. The retinue and Adam kept them at bay as best they could, but the angle was bad, and there were so many of them. It seemed like every angel in the district was turned.
They were forced away from the edge, where they put their backs to a wall—the stairway down, to be exact. It wasn't much protection, but at least they could flee inside if they had to.
Even though they were trying to kill them, Adam found the screamers' attack interesting. It really did look like they grabbed rays of light and threw them, as if they were spears. Each laser caused a small, smoking explosion where it hit. The holes weren't very big, but they added up to something dangerous.
“At least their aim sucks,” Adam said.
George spoke gruffly. “We need to fall back. Too many of them.”
Kelly hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “We can't help Huntsman if we're dead. Sax, the door.”
Jarasax opened the roof access door and dodged inside. Alex was next, followed by Kelly and Adam. George held the way for them, unleashing bursts of fire from his minigun to force the zombies back.
“George, now!” Adam called. He was the one who suggested running. Why wasn't he running?
George ignored him, but as luck would have it, that was about the moment the screamers started to find their range. A laser struck George in the shoulder, throwing up a burst of acrid smoke and causing him to bellow in pain. At the same time, a few more beams lanced forward, but he was already stumbling back into the dubious safety of the building.
Adam pulled the door shut behind him as fast as he could and sabotaged the lock, which should keep them from picking it. Yes, it sounded stupid to assume zombies could pick locks, but apparently everyone in the city could do it in their sleep, and it just took two seconds to jam it anyway. He stuck a bobby pin in and broke it off.
“Let's secure the building,” Kelly said, scratching that device on her left arm. “Or at least one floor.”
Adam glanced around as they came away from the stairs. It seemed as if the place was another office/apartment complex, which at least meant there would be lots of supplies to use to make the place defensible. Maybe even some ammo.
“We need to find... the manager's office. He should have maps and floorplans...” Adam frowned when he realized what was bugging him about the place. “Why are there no signs?” There weren't any names or numbers over the doors, or anywhere else for that matter. He picked up a sheaf of paper off one of the cubicle desks. It seemed blank, but it had creases and other signs of use. There were a bunch of other similar papers scattered around.
Alex read over his shoulder. “'Staff meeting tomorrow at noon to discuss budgetary concerns.'” When she noticed him staring at her, she just shrugged. “Invisible ink. Also called angelscript. You need dayeyes to read it.”
“All right then,” Adam said. “Lead on, Honored Daybreaker.” He gave her a semi-mocking bow.
She rolled her eyes, but led him to the manager's office.
It took a few minutes of scrambling through his drawers, but they found a carefully-labeled floorplan. Adam couldn't read it, of course, but Alex took a look at it.
“Exits are here, here, and here,” she said, pointing to them around the floor. “There's a supply closet over here.”
“Kelly, you guys secure the exit,” Adam suggested. “We'll look at the supplies.” She waved them on, nursing a headache from the lights.
The odd thing about this building—not to mention most of the others in the area—was that there were lights everywhere. Every surface, including the floor, was covered in fluorescent light strips, usually shaped into aesthetic designs. It looked a lot like the patterns of an angel's dayskin, actually.
Luckily, this place was built to accommodate people with baseline eyes as well, so while the lights were bright, they weren't blinding. Alex said they were “angelic script,” which was somehow distinct from angelscript, and used it to help them navigate.
“This is just a janitor's closet,” she reminded Adam. “Don't get your hopes up.” She started picking the lock, and after a few minutes it clicked open.
“Why does this city even bother with mechanical locks any more?” Adam muttered as she pulled open the door.
“There's an electric sensor inside that's much harder to defeat,” she said. “It sets off a silent alarm. We don't have to worry about it, but a real thief would have much more trouble trying to explain why he's picking locks.”
Adam nodded and glanced around the closet. Unfortunately, it didn't look like there was anything useful.
“Maybe the break room will have something,” he said. Last time he was in this situation, he found a half-empty case of ammo in a break room. Just sitting there, next to some doughnuts. This city was pretty seriously messed up.
Alex laughed. “What? No, this is more than enough. Haven't you spent enough time with Kelly to know by now?”
She handed him a bunch of cleaning supplies—bleach, Windex, Comet...
He was having trouble holding it all. “Wait, hang on. What's all this for?”
She grinned, picking up her own armful. “Kelly will mix it all together. Always remember: Belians are very good with chemistry.”
“I don't think we need meth,” Adam complained. They walked back to the stairway, which the others had already blockaded pretty solidly.
She just smiled. “What you need is to have faith.”
Before Adam could retort, there was a knock on the barricade.
He glanced at Alex, and she nodded. She had heard it too.
The knock came again, a litt
le louder this time. Something had come up the stairs and was trying to get in. Politely, too.
“Hello?” Adam called, putting down the chemicals and readying his shotgun just in case. “Who's out there?”
There was a long pause, and for a moment he thought they had simply left.
Then the barricade exploded.
Wood from the tables flew everywhere in a blinding flurry. One of the metal legs clipped him in the shoulder, but he just shielded his face with his hand and stayed put, keeping his Saint George as steady as he could. It only took a moment for the dust to clear.
And there was Zaphkiel, one of the highest angels in existence, standing there as if nothing was wrong.
He looked about the same as before, except his skin—all his skin—was softly glowing. His dayskin didn't have any patterns, and for a moment, Adam was curious as to why.
But that question fled his mind when he noticed that he was screaming.
His jaw was open so wide it was practically unhinged, and his eyes tracked them with single-minded purpose. They couldn't hear him, the headphones must have had a glitch or something. They were filtering out that too. But he was definitely turned, there was no question about that.
Adam opened fire mostly out of reflex, hitting him full in the chest with a load of buckshot, but he didn't so much as flinch. It didn't even bruise his alabaster skin. Buckshot wasn't exactly designed for penetration, but it should have still had some effect.
Alex was uninjured from the explosion, but white as a sheet and trembling like a leaf. “A warlord... a warlord has been turned.”
Zaphkiel raised his hand in an aggressive gesture.
Adam tackled Alex, throwing her out of the way and behind a desk just as the Saint's laser exploded at the spot they had occupied moments before.
“We can't kill him,” Adam said. “Angels will have our heads.” He glanced at Alex. “You got any ideas?”
But she was still trembling. “A warlord...”
The Composer of Screams Page 31