Devoured World: Volume One

by Fleet, Ricky

  “Use your knives! We’re coming!” Croft shouted.

  Andy was shoved against the wall alongside Zip, faceplates of the combat helmets touched as if kissing. Pinned by the weight of the mutants, they could feel the ferocity as the armour was attacked in an effort to get to the soft meat within. It was just like Mech training, except there was no safety net in this fight, it was to the death.

  “I… can’t get… to it!” Zip grunted, trying to twist and remove her combat knife.

  “Hold on, don’t panic!” Andy growled.

  Grabbing the infected snapping at his throat by the back of its neck, Andy slammed it into the steel wall, once, twice, three times. The skull split open, and yet the damage didn’t deter it. Digging into the open wound with his fingers, he tore at the pulsing brain until it let out a gargled choke and fell dead to the floor. Withdrawing the knife, he stabbed out from a sitting position, catching the creature attempting to eat Zip under the armpit. The blade buried itself to the hilt, and he twisted for good measure, causing the most awful cry of inhuman agony he’d ever heard. The thing clutched at its ribs and stumbled away to the side before collapsing. The other Vanquishers weren’t faring much better, wrestling with two or more adversaries. Andy dodged another group as they crashed down, slashing open the throat of the closest while Zip disembowelled two more.

  “We got you!” Andy yelled, driving the blade into the top of the creature’s skull. Freed of the weight, the man managed to struggle to his knees while holding the second at bay. Zip severed its spine with a single strike and it flopped to the floor, clawing at its useless legs.

  “Thanks.”

  “No prob…”

  “Watch out!” he cried, pulling him down.

  Andy spun round and saw the descending pack of horrors. Glares of triumph turned to shock as Croft and his team cut them down mid-air, the bodies twirling from the impact of the bullets. Skirting the bunker, the reinforcements held the infected long enough for the troops above to butcher their enemies and regain footing. Bateman had cleared his suit of mutants, slashing out with both arms or crushing the squealing things beneath the massive Mech feet.

  “They’re on the run!” Hardie roared, punching the air.

  Croft stood in silence, surveying the carnage. Never before had the mutants fled from a battle, but here they were, swarming back into the tunnels toward their nests. This didn’t bode well, he thought, in spite of the jubilation. A line had been crossed and the enemy was now capable of far more than just feeding itself into a meat grinder. Hell, the way things were going they might be using weapons next.

  “Sir, orders?”

  “Perform a sweep and kill any survivors. Once the perimeter’s secure we’ll send in teams to flush out the brood mothers.”

  “We’re going to try for both?” asked Hardie.

  “The Initiative want them both if possible.”

  “That could take hours, sir. We’re sitting ducks here.”

  “We’ve got a Dreadhulk providing support and the recon drones have already left the base. We’ll be forewarned and well prepared for any counterattack.”

  “I still don’t understand where the others are? We didn’t see close to a hundred thousand.”

  “I think we can thank God for that, Sergeant,” replied Croft, scanning the horizon and the stacked corpses. “If they’d attacked in force with their newfound wiles we’d all be dead by now. I’ll send a scouting probe below to see if they’re laying a trap for us.”

  “Understood, sir.”

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞

  “Report.”

  “I’ve lost contact with both of the probes, sir. They reached a sufficient depth to do a bio scan before they were destroyed. The numbers are in the low hundreds. The nests are empty.”

  Croft looked to Hardie. “Maybe Smith’s operator got the number wrong?”

  “Impossible. I know Hyde, she’s as tough as they come. If she said there were a hundred thousand down there, then they were down there.”

  “Where can they be then?”

  “I wish I knew, sir.”

  “We can investigate later, for now we need to get those things above ground. Once we get them caged and transported, I’ll send the drones out further to see if they pick up a signal. We’ll find them one way or another.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  Hardie watched as his superior organised the teams preparing to go below. His instincts were tingling; something was off, way off.

  ∞∞∞∞∞∞

  “Are you ready?” Lynch whispered in the confines of the passage. They had stumbled across the smashed remnants of the scouting probe five hundred yards short of the cavern mouth according to the 3D mapping. Two minutes would see them face to face with the horrific miscreation.

  “Ready,” Andy confirmed.

  Lynch nodded, shucking the flame pack higher onto his shoulders. It wasn’t to incinerate, just motivate. If the queen was reluctant to leave her home, the heat from a short burst should be enough to get her fat ass moving.

  Zip followed closely behind, hugging the tunnel wall with the other eighteen members of the second team. They moved as one, vigilant for any attack.

  Lynch reached the cavern first, gaping at the scene of slaughter. The brood mother was dead, that much was obvious. One of her heads had been torn clean off, and the other hung from a few remaining tendons and exposed sinew. It had been slashed open in countless places, spreading gruesome black ichor across the ground. Steam from the cooling body drifted upwards in the frigid cavern. She hadn’t gone down without a fight, though. Shredded bodies of the mutants were strewn amongst the spilled blood of their creator. Five or six attempted to crawl away, horrifically mutilated by the talon tipped legs during the assault. Lynch hosed them down with fire before turning to the others.

  “What the fuck happened here?”

  “They killed the host,” said Zip. “That’s why they pulled back.”

  “They didn’t want us to capture them?”

  “How the hell do they know what we were going to do to them? They’re mindless.”

  “Apparently not.”

  “Lieutenant Croft are you receiving?”

  “Go ahead, Lynch.”

  “The brood mother’s dead, sir.”

  “How the hell did that happen?” he raged. “You were given explicit instructions to secure the host and force her to the surface.”

  “We didn’t do anything, sir. The infected killed her.”

  “Repeat that last.”

  “The infected that retreated from battle attacked her. They ripped her to pieces.”

  Another voice interrupted. “Sir, this is Monk.”

  “Give me good news, Sergeant.”

  “I can’t, sir. The second queen’s also dead.”

  “Goddammit! Ok, take a sample of her blood and tissue then get your asses back up here. We’re returning to base.” Croft was furious, pacing back and forth. “Hardie, what do you think happened?”

  “I’m not totally sure, sir.”

  “Do you have a theory?”

  Hardie looked around; the blood, the mud, the smouldering fires. “Do you ever feel like a fish on a hook, sir?”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “This feels like we’ve been hooked. They laid out the bait, we took it, and they reeled us in.”

  “Why on earth would they sacrifice so many of their own, and two brood mothers, to reel us in as you called it?”

  “I don’t know, sir. I’d give anything to know where those mutants are right now though,” he replied, desperately trying to figure out the missing puzzle piece.

  Chapter 34

  Following the brief meeting with the senior managers in the Mech facility, Tamsin had returned home. They were surprisingly accommodating to her requests to work offsite for a while and praised her dedication and value to the team without prompting. Perhaps her new, hardened attitude told them she was no longer to be taken for granted. Or, just as like
ly, they had always thought highly of her but were occupied with greater concerns than complimenting their employees for doing their job. Regardless, it felt good to receive some plaudits for her efforts.

  Burdened with a completely new system in a cumbersome box, Toby, the building supervisor, rushed out of his small office to help. All attempts to dissuade him were ignored as he retrieved the lifting aid from the storeroom. After some small talk on the elevator ride, the automated trolley followed obediently as they made their way down the corridor towards her apartment. With each step, Tamsin’s anxiety soared ever higher, but she could think of no reason to dismiss him that wouldn’t raise suspicion. Reaching the front door, Toby smiled and waited for her to open it.

  “I can take it from here, thanks,” said Tamsin, moving to pick up the large box.

  “Don’t be silly. I can take it straight in on the trolley rather than watch you struggle.”

  “Honestly, I’m fine,” she replied a bit more brusquely than intended.

  Toby flinched a little at the harsh tone. Staring at each other, the awkward silence dragged on interminably. Fearing he would insist on accompanying her inside, Tamsin was tempted to grab the package and dart through the door. It would be rude to slam it in his face, yet he was leaving no alternative.

  “I know this may seem strange,” he started to say, looking down at his feet. “I’ve watched you come and go for years.”

  Tamsin frowned at the admission of stalker-like behaviour.

  “Sorry, that sounded really bad,” he mumbled, catching sight of her worried expression. “What I meant to say was that I’ve watched you but didn’t have the balls to say anything. I know the world is all messed up, and we could all be wiped out tomorrow.”

  “Is this going somewhere?” she asked cautiously.

  “Would you like to go to a holo suite sometime? Maybe a bar?”

  “You mean like a date?”

  “No! Of course not,” his cheeks flushed. “Just hanging out, as friends.”

  Tamsin weighed up the offer. G had insisted she needed to get out more, and this was the best offer in over a century. Toby was attractive in a mousy, geeky kind of way. His unkempt brown hair, the shy brown eyes with striations of amber, his pleasant scent and thin, wiry body. Pictures of her family flashed through her mind and she backed away, head shaking.

  “No, sorry.”

  Opening the door, Tamsin wrestled the box onto her knees and shuffled inside as quickly as possible.

  “Thanks for the help,” she said, shutting him out in the hallway.

  Toby’s mouth tried to form a few words, but embarrassment and the latch engaging cut him off before he could respond. Tamsin listened as he let out a deep sigh and moved away towards the lift.

  “You could’ve said yes,” G said, keeping the volume minimal in case his voice carried.

  “I’ve already got a husband.”

  “Yes, and I’m certain he wouldn’t mind you socialising. Spending time with people isn’t a betrayal.”

  Mimicking the deep huff of Toby, she ignored G and unpacked the powerful machine. It was a tenth of the size of the scavenged server sitting in the dark corner, while being two hundred and sixty percent more powerful. If she’d known how easily the facility would provide her with the processing unit she wouldn’t have needed to steal anything in the first place.

  “Is that my new home?”

  “Yup. I hope you like it.”

  “I’m sure it’s better than the back of my car.”

  “I’ve downloaded as much information as I can onto the memory banks. You can search through it until your heart’s content.”

  “That’s very kind of you to say.”

  “Huh?” Tamsin grunted, fishing for the adapter cables beneath the desk.

  “You said I have a heart.”

  “It’s a figure of speech, don’t get too excited.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “Don’t pout either. You’re an advanced being, it’s unbecoming.”

  “I think I prefer the meek Tamsin.”

  “I could still unplug you and put you in a drawer.”

  “Apologies.”

  Slotting the final cable into its port, she flicked the power switch and pushed the unit to the side to keep it out of the way. The lights of the dead server faded completely as the AI relocated.

  “This is nice. It’s like moving from the trailer park to Bel Air.”

  “It took me years to build your trailer, you ungrateful bastard.”

  “It was a figure of speech.”

  “I didn’t get you more power for you to give me more backtalk. You’re meant to be helping.”

  “Apologies.”

  “I need to freshen up a bit. Take a look around your new home.”

  Closing the bathroom door, she smiled to herself at the excited voice coming from the lounge. G was settling in nicely by the sounds of it.

  “News on,” she said, filling the basin with warm water.

  Dabbing at her skin with the wet cloth, the Divinity Alliance emblem faded out to be replaced with ‘Breaking News’. Selectively edited drone footage rolled on the screen. Paladin tanks unleashed salvos of huge shells at the horrors streaming from a tunnel mouth, blowing them to kingdom come. Cutting to the front line, she was filled with pride at the sight of her Mechs kicking ass. More action shots followed of the recent battle; Vanquishers going hand to hand on the defensive pods, mutants fleeing the battlefield. Tamsin scowled at the sight as the soothing voice of the commentator came over the speaker.

  Today, the forces of the Sovereign Guard won a great victory over the mutant hordes. An operative from the Shadow team identified a large nest and Empress Verena ordered an all-out assault. The bravest members of our army were dispatched and destroyed the threat without suffering any casualties. You can rest easy knowing that you have the protection of these brave soldiers. Thank you for your continued support in these troubled times.

  The sight of the infected running away replayed in her mind. Very strange, she thought. An uneasy feeling bloomed in the pit of her stomach for unknown reasons.

  “News off.”

  Leaving the bathroom, the monitor showed a Home Sweet Home sign hanging from an imaginary wall.

  “We need to discuss your rent.”

  “I think my continued silence about a certain attempted murder is payment enough for now.”

  “Fair point. Have you had a chance to look at the data?”

  “Yes. It doesn’t make sense, though.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ve extrapolated the data relating to the advances in human genetic engineering and the corresponding effects that has on the infection.”

  “And?”

  “My calculations show a ninety-nine-point six percent chance that they should’ve evolved far beyond the base instincts of hunger and replication.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means that they should be exhibiting higher levels of intelligence. I’ve seen reports of them becoming more adaptive to the threats we pose. Such as lying in wait before attacking, that shows an increased level of cunning, but not to the extent that it should be.”

  “We’ve been lucky?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps.”

  “What’s an alternative explanation?”

  “That they’ve been purposely concealing their growing intellect from us.”

  “But why?”

  “That’s the million-dollar question.”

  Chapter 35

  Quadrant ZT-9.

  26 miles inside Alliance borders.

  Mining Outpost Joanton.

  Population – 6471.

  Surrounding a central hub of gantries, vats, massive pipes, breather stacks, and excavation conveyors, was the town of Joanton. A bustling hub comprising a military garrison of V and D-Class operatives, sprawling complexes of engineer and miner housing, along with the relevant support facilities. Keeping all of this safe from the de
adly threat outside was the fifty-foot tall and eight-foot-deep Jajovium and steel alloy perimeter wall. Spaced around the entire circumference were sentient APTs, or Automated Plasma Turrets. The dual eight-inch barrels would cough out thirty charges a minute of heavy plasma spheres during any large-scale assault by the mutations. It was enough to turn the surrounding land into a seething cauldron of lava. Heavily armed sentries would then take care of anything that survived the hellish maelstrom. Not that they ever got heavily attacked this deep within Divinity territory. The perimeter outposts were always the first to get hit.

  A motion sensor triggered the turret, the smooth internal Mechanisms causing it to rise from the suspension rings which absorbed the phenomenal recoil. All operatives on the wall received an instant report from the scanners.

  One target. North-north-west. Threat level minimal. Standing down.

  And with that, the death spewing tower lowered on its pneumatics back into standby mode.

  “I’ve got this one.”

  “Bullshit. It must be eight kilometres away at least. Send a drone.”

  Luke looked away from the scope of his rifle and grinned. “Want to make it interesting? If I can get it through the eye, you transfer thirty minutes of your holo-suite time to me.”

  “I’ll take that action,” Cody replied, shaking his hand.

  “Sucker.”

  Pulling the stock in tight, Luke stared through the scope. The display showed the distance to be exactly eight thousand one hundred and eighty-two meters away, well within range of the Ashdown XG6 sniper rifle.

  “What are you waiting for? Losing your nerve?” Cody mocked.

  “It’s watching us,” Luke muttered, a sense of unease growing.

  “What? Let me see.”

  Cody pulled down his visor and pinpointed the mutant. With a single thought, the psy-linked battle display zoomed in the view to crystal clarity, as if he was stood only six paces away. Humanoid as far as standing on two legs with two arms at its side went, but that was where the similarity ended. Its head was a lumpy, ill formed mess with strands of hair hanging from irregular patches. The greasy scalp pulsated as if something within was bursting to be free. Curved fangs rose from the lower jaw, tearing into the fleshy upper lip. The muscle mass on the legs was increasing, enabling greater speed and the ability to leap much higher. Lesions and sores trickled pus onto the dusty ground. Each new generation saw the creatures devolve further from their original, human form into a more effective killing machine.