by Fleet, Ricky
Moving between cover, Jayne’s heightened senses were aware of the sly movement of the mutants. They weren’t stalking her, it was simply their default state of being without the stimulation of a fight or meal. Most of the creatures were hovering around the entrance to the five-storey administration complex which gave her a perfect window of opportunity to skirt the perimeter. The inner fence surrounding the mighty stacks was in no better shape and she stepped carefully between the fallen chain. A single, caged ladder rose in front, broken every fifty feet by a small access platform. Testing the frame for stability, the layer of rust hadn’t penetrated too deeply, and it held firm. The soft soles of her boots made only the slightest whisper as she ascended two rungs at a time. Glancing up, Jayne could make out the horrific birds circling lazily miles above which had destroyed the aerial surveillance. Unable to identify the species because of the distance, she took a guess that they were eagles. At least they had been those magnificent creatures once upon a time. Their huge wingspan left little doubt in her mind. The sight of the infected was superhuman, but the enhanced vision of the avian abominations made them an even greater threat than their ground-based brethren. Moving with more caution, she navigated platform to platform, keeping tight to the shadows until she reached the top. Risking a quick glance, two of the monsters were skulking around the rim.
Shit.
If it had been a single enemy she would have been able to turn the tables and become the hunter. As it was, they were slowly circling the funnel on opposite sides. If she attacked outright and killed one, the uninjured mutant would summon Hell before she could skirt around and finish it off.
Think, damn it!
The rasp of claws on stone was becoming clearer as the nearest of the creatures approached. This was by far the best vantage point and she wasn’t about to let it go. Unsheathing her Jajovium sword, Jayne crouched on the ladder and waited. When the snuffle of altered nasal passages could be heard directly above, she tapped gently on the metal with the blade. It was barely audible to her, but the mutant heard it loud and clear. Its direction of travel moved towards Jayne. Holding her breath, she stared up at the darkened sky. Lank, greasy tufts of hair came into view, followed by a protuberant forehead. The bone beneath the skin had undergone unspeakable transformations. Two, red, feral eyes appeared as the thing looked down. The scarlet orbs widened as it saw her, but it was too late. The sword flashed, cutting through the side of its head in line with the upper jaw. Decapitated from below the nose, it started to topple forward. Quick as a flash the sword was sheathed and with one foot she caught the dropping cranium, while her unencumbered hands guided the sagging body silently down onto the platform. The only sound was the patter of dribbling blood streaming from the gaping wound.
Come on, you bastard.
After two minutes without hearing any signs of movement, she risked another glance. Not twelve inches from her was a face of nightmares. The demonic, glowing eyes stared right into her soul. Dribble frothed from the slavering maw. Razor sharp teeth gnashed in anticipation of the meal to come. Haunches and arms tensed, it launched itself straight into Jayne, knocking her from the ladder. Slamming down on the platform, her fall was broken by the dead body of her attacker’s companion. Claws raked at her sides, attempting to penetrate the reinforced fabric. Holding it at bay by the muscular neck, the snapping beak desperately tried to tear at her face. Only by some fortuitous miracle had the creature not shrieked a warning before it attacked. Waves of agony radiated from her bruised midriff. The material wouldn’t take much more punishment before tearing and then it would be her end. Moving her right hand, Jayne dug her fingers in around the windpipe and squeezed. A tortured whistle escaped the compressed trachea. Wrenching her hand back, the skin and muscle gave way, tearing the throat wide open. Weakened only slightly by the mortal injury, it redoubled its efforts to finish her before dying. Digging into the horrific wound, she scraped and tore at the veins, muscle, and tendons. The pinning weight went rigid as her probing hand damaged something vital. Blazing eyes stared at her uncomprehendingly, finally glazing as the fire behind them faded with death.
Hyde, report!
Pushing the body away, she took slow, deep breaths to calm herself. Reaching out, she fingered the damage to her suit, searching for any breaches. The material was frayed, but unbroken.
I’m ok. I had a bit of a tussle with a hostile. Resuming scouting mission.
Are you injured?
Negative.
Understood. Be careful.
Roger that.
The gliding fowl had missed the show and continued their circular patterns. Moving no faster than a sloth to remain hidden, Jayne climbed from the ladder. Walking the circumference of the concrete ring, she counted dozens more of the infected. Deep within the explosion crater lay a lake of black water which had bled through from the reservoir servicing the steam requirements of the plant. A mountain of coal lay to the east of the complex. The conveyor system had long since collapsed, twisted fangs of supporting steel reaching skyward like dead fingers. Deep within the complex were the transmission cables from the generators. A huge hole was evident in the side of the structure, with countless tracks stretching from the dark void.
Hyde to base, it looks like we have a nest. Orders?
Can you get close enough to confirm?
The numbers were high but spread thinly across the facility. Looking down, she weighed the risks.
There’re several hundred above ground. I think I can make it inside, though.
Don’t put yourself in harm’s way if it can be avoided. We can order a seismic cleanse from Jade City.
It’s too risky. Judging by the tracks they’ve been here a while. They could’ve burrowed for miles in any direction by now.
Received. Get a bead on the hive mother location and get the hell out. I’ll mobilise the Vanquishers and a Paladin division.
Roger that.
Jayne started to descend the ladder, pausing only briefly to tuck the two bodies into the darkest corner of the platform. Hurrying down the remaining steps, she took stock of the surroundings before moving towards the shattered entrance. The safest approach would take her directly through the office complex. Haunted receptions and conference rooms were far preferable to being spotted by the soaring hunters like a scurrying field mouse. Word was the eagles kept you alive, so their newly hatched eaglets could slowly eat you. Jayne thought it was bullshit. The Initiative were certain the hive mothers were the source of all varieties of mutation stalking the world. They couldn’t prove it, however, as no one had ever seen a full-fledged matriarch. Or if they had, they hadn’t survived to tell the tale. One day we’ll bring one down, she thought, plotting vicious retribution on the faceless creature.
Southern Power was emblazoned above the revolving doors. The glass, long since disintegrated by time or panicked workers, lay scattered over the foyer. In spite of her incredible skills in stealth and tracking, there was no way to navigate the sea of tiny, clear crystals in silence. Moving to the left, the windows of the office suites were mostly intact. Catching furtive movement from the carpark in her peripheral vision, Jayne clutched the sill of a broken window and vaulted inside. The rotten carpeting was blanketed with more of the jagged shards which threatened to expose her position to anything in the vicinity. Legs spread, she landed in the splits, spanning two desks. Holding her breath, Jayne waited. The infected had missed her, or it was going to lie in wait for her like its friend. Making a mental note to report the behavioural anomaly to the division commander, she carefully lowered her hands to an uncovered patch of floor. Taking the weight on her arms, she brought her legs together and flipped them gracefully overhead before standing. The front walkthrough was one of her earliest achievements in gymnastics all those years ago.
As with everything in their new world, the lack of rain and humidity had preserved the office. A thick layer of dust was the only evidence of the many decades that had passed since the fall of mankind. Untainted
patches of computer screens reflected her shimmering form as she passed. The cloaking technology had always fascinated Jayne and she paused for a moment, watching. The effect looked like a heat distortion, wavering the lines of her figure. Within three seconds the suit had compensated, and she could see straight through herself.
I vant to suck your blood! she thought in her best Bela Lugosi voice.
Technically she wasn’t looking through, but around herself. Regardless, it was still cool. Listening for any threats, the building was as quiet as the proverbial tomb. Continuing on through the partitioned work stations, she couldn’t help but see the family photographs stood proudly on the desks. Smiling faces beamed out through the grimy coating on the glass, giving the false impression they were taken after the apocalypse; survivors without access to water to clean themselves. Picking up a silver frame, she rubbed away the dirt. The now pristine family stared at her. She shuddered at the intense scrutiny of the dead.
A scratching sound by the window she had used to enter brought her back. Ducking low, Jayne waited as the creature scented the frame. It let out a low mewling sound, a mixture of confusion and intense hunger. Whatever miniscule trace of Jayne it had picked up was stolen away by the wind and it left, growling to itself.
No more sightseeing, Hyde.
Hurrying past the lives of the long deceased, she came out into the main reception. Heading deeper into the complex, the signs of life and death struggles started to appear. Gnawed human bones lay scattered indiscriminately across the halls and side offices. The canteen had been a scene of chaos, with tables and chairs torn apart no less than the humans who tried to use them as shields from the infected. Staff had tried to close the steel roller of the serving area hatch to protect themselves. The twisted metal and savage claw marks left no illusion that the flimsy barrier hadn’t lasted for long. More mummified remains were huddled on the kitchen counters, partly eaten faces screaming in their death rictus. The horrific scenes in the wastelands filled some soldiers with despair. Not Jayne. The suffering written on each desiccated visage was like rocket fuel, filling her with adrenaline and a deeper hatred for their enemy. If that was even possible. Stepping carefully over the remains, the emergency exit door was still closed. The question of why the workers hadn’t tried to escape was answered when she caught sight of the dents in the metal from outside. Teeth grinding in anger, Jayne had to put a lid on the seething rage coursing through her veins. For now, she needed to be calm and calculating. The combat training bot back in her barracks would take a hammering later.
Pushing down on the release bar, the door opened without issue. Two delivery trucks were backed up to the refrigerated storage unit. Their doors were open, shredded remnants of the produce crates spread across the ground. The fare on offer obviously hadn’t been to the mutants liking; probably not fresh enough, or not screaming enough. An attempt had been made to get inside the fridge. Jayne knew why and lamented the slow death by hypothermia that the victims within had faced.
Two hundred yards separated her from the dark, foreboding entrance to the nest. Peeking out from behind the brick wall of the service yard, she counted two dozen of the creatures prowling around. Her options for approach were limited. The safest would be to ascend one of the pylons and shimmy down one of the thick cables. The easiest would be to play a deadly game of Grandmother’s Footsteps; moving silently through their midst, stopping dead as soon as one of the infected turned towards her. Several of the cables had snapped free of their coupling, laying on the dusty ground like dead snakes. Trusting her stealth far more than the decayed wires, she moved from cover at a snail’s pace. One step at a time, slow, careful, she repeated over and over. More than once Jayne was in the process of navigating a low wall or other obstruction and the damned mutants would look in her direction. Half perched on the obstacle, she was certain they were taking their time, delighting in the screaming muscles that held her perfectly still in the awkward positions. Fifteen minutes of cat and mouse later, the opening loomed. Unimaginable horror laid behind the black portal to Hell, but she moved into the gloom without hesitation.
Chapter 32
The darkness was absolute. Not even the meagre haze penetrating through the layer of choking dust high above could banish it. For Jayne it was irrelevant; her vision adapted instantly to the changes in available light waves. Her enhanced ocular capabilities created an environment comparable to twilight, not full daylight. It was more than enough to see by, and fight by, if necessary. Standing with her back to the concrete wall, Jayne took a moment to relay her next move.
Hyde to base. I’m inside the nest. I’ll ping the target coordinates as soon as I have eyes on.
Understood.
Four massive generators were lined up within the first section of the building. The turbine shafts extended through a wall, the grease still glistening after all the years since they stopped rotating. Moving from the pile of sundered wall, Jayne slowly made way down the grated walkway. A control room which had once monitored the transmission of steam into kinetic energy gave opened up to a staircase which descended into the bowels of the complex. Ignoring it for now, she moved between the machines until the true path of her prey was revealed. In the farthest corner, a tunnel had been hewn through the reinforced concrete, angling down at a pitch of fifteen degrees. The compacted soil showed the same claw trails as outside. Judging by the size of the hole, the host was only a few years old. On her forays into the deeper reaches of the mutant territory, she’d seen burrows eighty feet wide. If the corresponding relationship between distance from human habitation and the size of the nest continued in the same way, Jayne daren’t imagine what size the hive mothers could reach at the epicentre of the infestation.
Shuffling from below caused her to hug the wall. The scraping became a roar as the passage expelled more than forty infected. The layer of fresh mucus coating the floor in their wake showed these were recent additions to their cause. Even with her agility, the slimy surface would be treacherous for her to navigate. A single slip could cause enough noise to bring the whole nest down upon her head. Doubling back, Jayne entered the control room and pushed through the newly formed webs in the stairwell doorway. An angry spider as big as her palm skittered across her chest.
Sorry, fella, she thought, picking it off and placing it in a dark nook.
Retreating into the hole, its many faceted eyes glared at her.
Don’t be like that. At least I didn’t eat you!
With a shake of the head at the ingratitude, Jayne started to move down the steps. Placing a foot down slowly, she tested each metal tread before applying full weight. Disabling her mask filter, the noxious smell of the nest was carried on the rising drafts. Once it had made her feel nauseous, but she now used the scent like a bloodhound, sniffing deeply to track her quarry. The staircase ended, and the exit gave three options. More mucoid discharge spread in every direction which gave no indication of the best route to take. Noticing the dull sheen instead of the normal reflective quality, she placed a probing foot down. The mucus was dry, crumbling to dust under the touch. Whatever had left it had done so a long time ago, and nothing had been through these hallways since. Inhaling, the air from the right-hand fork was markedly viler than that of the left and directly ahead. Wincing with each step as the crusted layer crumbled, she made way down the long passage. Pipes and overhead conduits guided her path. If the mutants were smart they could’ve placed sentries to guard the approaches. Thankfully, they lacked the intelligence to do much more than kill, eat, and replicate. Except her friend on the cooling stack. The behaviour was troubling, despite the fact it was the only reason she was still alive. It had showed patience and cunning far beyond anything experienced before. She supposed it was inevitable their foe would evolve in some way. What it meant for their survival she couldn’t say. Pushing the quandary out of her mind, the claustrophobic tunnel opened into a much larger space. Peering downwards, the floor of the chamber was a hundred feet below. Gantries,
pipes, and ducts stretched in every direction like a human made web of steel. The excavation the creatures had used to leave was carved in the western wall. Two further shafts had been gouged through the solid walls, snaking down into the bowels of the earth. Both had signs of recent movement, not least the dripping muck of the recent births.
Shit.
It was a fifty-fifty shot of picking the right direction.
Fuck it.
It wasn’t as if she had anywhere else to be. A nice little jaunt to Hell was always preferable to the boring barracks. Moving cautiously now that she was truly in the belly of the beast, Jayne climbed down the maze of steps. Considering the possible size of the nest, the lack of mutants was surprising. Normally the search for a host was a slow, laborious affair of move, see the enemy, stop, wait, repeat. Butchering the occasional lone monstrosity was a bonus and bringing a division of hardass soldiers to eradicate the whole nest the icing on the cake. Reaching the floor of the complex unmolested, she listened intently for any signs. Only the sighing, fetid breeze drawn from below answered. Neither source was strong enough to expose the host’s location.
What if there are two?
The thought shook her. It had never occurred before, but the clues were there. Fresh trails from each tunnel. Putrid aromas wafting towards the fresh air above as if trying to cleanse itself of the taint. Opting to take the marginally viler route, Jayne was heartened to see the steep gradient of the exit passage was far less severe now that they were underground. The width of the openings gave small areas of uncovered soil to navigate without the risk of coating her boots in the amniotic fluid. Absolute darkness returned as she traversed the slope. Not even the pitiful gloom from outside carried this deeply. Half an hour passed, twists and turns throwing off any sense of direction. It was impossible to know how far she had travelled as the hewn soil walls looked identical from one mile to the next. A further swarm of fifty had streamed past halfway through the journey, but nothing else. Guttural wheezing and grunting replaced the eerie silence. She was close.