“It must be over,” Wade said, after a moment. “Maybe our heads will stop hurting now.”
Jennifer hoped that he was right. Her temples throbbed as she fought against what felt like a raging migraine. She removed her hand from Susan’s mouth. Susan remained where she was, pressed up against Jennifer’s side. Wade sat huddled beside both of them. For the first time Jennifer was aware of the scent of their sweat; it clung to them like a miasma, and it was hard to tell whose body odor she was smelling. Probably mine, she thought.
Wade looked out around the rock. “Maybe we should join the others. What do you think? Would Tony be—”
He stopped in mid-sentence and made a surprised, clicking noise in the back of his throat. Slowly, Wade looked down at the ground. Jennifer followed his gaze…
…and screamed.
Wade’s index and middle fingers had been severed at the first knuckle by a diminutive Clicker no bigger than a housecat. The tiny creature feasted on the bloody digits while another scampered over Wade’s foot and slashed at his pants leg.
How could they be that small? Even as she thought it, Jennifer realized the truth.
“Oh my God,” Susan yelled, verbalizing Jennifer’s thoughts. “They’re babies. Oh, how cute.”
Four more of the infant Clickers—the smallest of which was no bigger than a human hand—skittered out of a crevice in the wall and crawled over Susan’s legs. She reached for them happily as Jennifer sprang to her feet.
Wade’s shock turned to shrieks as one of the baby Clickers disappeared beneath his pants leg and crawled up his leg. Before Jennifer could stop him, he turned and ran into the darkness, heading back the way they’d originally come, heedless of the danger. She glimpsed him beating at his knee as he fled.
“Oh God,” he wailed. “Oh, Jesus, it’s stinging the fuck out of me. It’s crawling toward my—”
His cries became garbled echoes. Seconds later, they were lost beneath Susan’s laughter. She tilted her head back and giggled as the Clickers reached eagerly for her breasts. Four sets of pink pincers hovered in the air—and then latched on.
Susan’s laughter turned to screams.
Jennifer screamed too as she ran toward the main chamber.
***
Right before Jennifer’s scream, Clark had been idly wondering what they’d do once Dagon had been stopped. Surely, there were more Dark Ones within this maze of tunnels and caves. They also had to contend with the Clickers that were still running rampant topside. Clark wasn’t sure if they had enough firepower to handle all those. They needed more reinforcements. They needed what they’d had in DC—they needed a battalion of soldiers with the latest in weapons and technology at their disposal.
When this is over and we get out of here, somebody needs to tell President Livingston to nuke this fucking island, Clark thought as he quickly ejected a magazine and slapped in a fresh one. He had no doubt that if they made it out, they would be leaving dozens, if not hundreds of Dark Ones behind. There were just too many of them.
“Finished,” Diamond groaned.
Amethyst nodded. “Well done.”
Averting his gaze from the inside-out Dark Ones, Clark’s eyes fell on the toppled statues. In addition to a series of seemingly identical carvings that seemed to depict a winged thing with numerous tentacles, there were others. Some were immense, others small. They were all of various figures, some loathsome and painful to look at. Almost indescribable. One looked like a hideous blob with hundreds of mouths all over it, sprouting hoofed tentacles. Another figure also sported tentacles but was also winged and had two giant horns sprouting from its three heads. Looking at them for any length of time made Clark’s headache even worse, so he refrained and concentrated on the task at hand. The fillings in his teeth ached.
“Okay, gentlemen,” Amethyst said. “It’s show time.”
“What do we—”
A series of screams interrupted Tony.
“Shit,” he said. “That’s Jennifer!”
Clark wheeled toward the entrance, his weapon at the ready. Jennifer ran into the chamber, sobbing.
“What’s wrong?” Clark yelled. “What are you doing in here?”
“There’s a little one after me!”
“A little what?” Amethyst asked.
“A baby Clicker. They killed Susan. And Wade ran off.”
Amethyst didn’t seem bothered by this news. “It’s okay. The Clickers won’t enter this chamber. Even with their rudimentary intelligence, they know this is a place of great power, and they fear it. As for the Dark Ones, with the Elder dead, the rest of them will retreat back into the ocean.”
“How will they know he’s dead?” Clark asked.
“Believe me, they’ll know. Just to make sure, I’ve sent the image to them. Think of it as mental email, CC’ing every one of them in these tunnels.”
“Telepathy?”
Amethyst nodded. “Something like that. Very good, Mr. Arroyo.”
“What about Wade?” Jennifer asked, coming to stand beside Tony.
“And not to mention ol’ tentacle face.” Tony pointed at the portal. “You were insistent we finish up here. Tell me what I need to fucking do already, and then let’s get the fuck out of here. My head is killing me.”
“Very well.” Amethyst nodded as if satisfied. “Mr. Arroyo, I’d like you to stand next to the portal, if you’d be so kind?”
“Why?”
“Because it is absolutely essential that we all be in place before Tony begins.”
Clark met Tony and Jennifer’s eyes. Then, with a shrug, he took his place as indicated. He suppressed a shiver as he turned his back to the hovering rectangle. Water slopped out of the doorway and onto his feet.
“Ms. Wasco, you are welcome to join him if you like.”
“Screw that.” Jennifer slid closer to Tony. “I’m not getting anywhere near that thing.”
“Suit yourself.” Amethyst turned back to the hovering portal and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a fistful of something—Clark thought it might be salt or flour—and sprinkled the substance on the ground. Then he spoke again. “Eloim shammanta. Barra, Gigum xul.
Barra, Maskim xul. Ia idimmu, descente Leviathan.”
His voice had changed. Clark thought it sounded harsher—more strained. Clark noticed that as Amethyst spoke, the pain in his head increased even more. He reached up with one hand and rubbed his temple.
“It will pass soon,” Amethyst told him. “As soon as the entryway is closed.”
“What now?” Tony asked. His tone was impatient.
“The rest is easy,” Amethyst told him. “I’ll recite some words for you. Pay attention, because you’ll need to repeat them. Okay?”
Tony nodded. Clark and Jennifer shifted nervously.
“You must say Ia verminus Leviathan. Ia destrato Leviathan. LEVIATHAN.”
“Gesundheit.”
“Please, Tony. No jokes right now. Pay attention. Ia verminus Leviathan. Ia destrato Leviathan. LEVIATHAN. Can you remember that?”
Tony mouthed the words to himself and then nodded. “Yeah, I got it.”
“Correct. Once you have finished, you’ll need to say, ‘I bind and banish you according to the Law. You may not pass through the door. Go now and bother this Earth no more.’ Can you remember that, as well?”
“I’ve got it. So all I have to do is repeat that bullshit? How come you saying them just now wouldn’t work?”
“Because I am not one of The Seven. You are. And because there is something else you must do in conjunction with the words. Something that I cannot do myself. Something that only the person reciting the words can do.”
“And what’s that?”
“A sacrifice must be made. You’ll have to kill Mr. Arroyo.”
“What?” Tony sounded incredulous.
“All you have to do is say the words, kill Clark, and then repeat them again.”
“Is that all?”
Startled, Clark took a step forw
ard. “Now hold on just a goddamn minute.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Diamond moving toward him. Clark raised his rifle and pointed it at Diamond. Diamond gestured at the weapon. Suddenly, the M16 grew hot in Clark’s hands. He dropped it, hissing with pain. The rifle clattered to the floor.
“No,” Amethyst said. “Our time is up. Summoning Dagon requires a sacrifice. Reversing the ritual requires one, as well. Kill him, Tony, and let’s be done of this whole thing.”
Slowly, Tony brought his rifle up. His expression was stone; his gaze was hardened.
Clark said, “Shit.”
Consumed by sheer, blind panic, Wade fled into the darkness, running deeper into the underground network of tunnels and passageways. Sweat, blood and dirt caked his flesh and clothing. His gasps and sobs were intermittently punctuated by agonized squeals as the baby Clicker beneath his pants plunged its stinger into his leg. Despite his terror, Wade had enough presence of mind to realize that the infant lacked the venom of its older kin. Otherwise, his legs would have been a bubbling, acidic mess by now. Still, that did nothing to ease the pain. It felt like someone was repeatedly stabbing him with an ice pick. The creature plunged the stinger into his ankle and then crawled a few inches up his leg. Then it repeated the process over and over again, stinging him on the calf, knee and lower thigh. Now, as he ran, he felt it inching higher.
Sobbing, Wade stopped and clamped both hands around his leg, slowing the creature’s advance. The nubs of his missing fingers throbbed and burned. The Clicker squirmed and wiggled beneath his pants. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel it there, seeking a way around the blockade. He thought about fumbling in the darkness for a rock—something he could use to bludgeon the Clicker, but he was afraid to remove his hand.
Wade had no idea how far he’d come, or where he was. The tunnel was silent except for his own ragged breathing. Even the echoes of his screams had died down. The darkness was absolute. He’d never suffered from claustrophobia, but he felt it now. The blackness enveloped him like a shroud.
The tiny stinger punched through the cloth of his pants and jabbed his left hand, just above the space where his missing fingers had been. Wade instinctively drew the wounded hand back, and the Clicker seized the opportunity to climb higher. He felt the small pincers graze his underwear. His balls shriveled tight beneath the fabric. The claws brushed up against it again. Then Wade felt them open.
“No!”
Curling his hands into fists, Wade beat at the Clicker, smashing it again and again, heedless of the blows he was inflicting on himself, as well. His bloodied stumps exploded in pain, but he ignored the sensation. There was an audible cracking sound, and then hot wetness splattered across his groin and thigh. The Clicker ceased moving, but Wade continued pummeling it, pulverizing the remains until it dribbled down his leg and pooled around his shoe. He didn’t stop until he’d accidentally punched himself in the testicles. Groaning, he collapsed to the ground, cradling himself with one hand and trying to ignore the nausea that suddenly swept over him.
He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, crumpled into a ball and weeping softly. Eventually, the pain eased and Wade uncurled himself and sat up. His joints and muscles ached, and the throbbing in his head and hand continued unabated. Using his teeth and uninjured hand, he tore some strips of cloth from his shirt and fashioned a crude tourniquet for his left hand.
I need to find the others, he thought. Need to get back to them before I get lost down here.
He shuddered, imagining wandering hopelessly for days or even weeks through this underground warren, until thirst or exhaustion did him in. Climbing to his feet, Wade reached out with both hands and felt around until his fingertips brushed against a hard surface on his right. A bit more exploration determined that he’d found a wall, rather than just a boulder. The space to his left was just empty darkness. Cautiously, he inched forward, letting the fingertips of his right hand trail along the wall for guidance. At intervals, the wall bent and curved, and his fingers slipped away. Then he’d grope in the darkness until he found it again. Wade couldn’t be sure if these intervals indicated branching tunnels and passageways, or if it was just the natural curvature of the rock.
This must be what it feels like for an astronaut on a space-walk. No, even they have more light than I do right now.
Suddenly, he heard the patter of footsteps. The tread was heavy and hurried, as if the person was running away from something or hurrying down the passageway. It couldn’t be one of the Dark Ones. If they were pursuing him, they’d be stealthy.
Maybe they aren’t chasing me. Maybe they’re running away from something.
“Hello?” Wade’s voice echoed in the darkness. “Jennifer? Susan?”
The footsteps stopped just a few feet away from him.
“T-Tony? Is that you?”
Something snorted. Wade took a deep breath and smelled that all-too familiar reptilian stench. He heard something—claws or perhaps scales—slither against the rocks.
“Oh no—”
Roaring, the fleeing Dark One fell upon him in a flurry of talons and teeth. Wade’s scream lasted until the beast tore his bottom jaw from his face, but he lived for a few more minutes after that. The pain was enough to make him forget all about his missing fingers or the ache in his head. With each strip of flesh that was flayed from his body, with each organ or limb that was ripped away, such trivialities became less important.
“Let me get this straight,” Tony said. “You want me to say the magic words, kill Clark, then say them again, along with that other nonsense, and then Dagon will go the fuck back to wherever it is he came from?”
“That is correct.”
“Tony…” Clark took another step forward. “You can’t seriously be—”
“Shut the fuck up.” Tony turned his attention back to Amethyst. “Why can’t you or Diamond do it? Or why can’t we just use Ruby or one of the Dark Ones as the sacrifice? I mean, they’re already dead, right? Their blood was spilled here.”
“Leviathan can only be bound or banished by one of The Seven. This is no minor demon or paltry deity we’re dealing with. He is one of the thirteen beings that existed before this universe was created. As for Ruby and the Dark Ones, the sacrifice must be made after the initial words are spoken, and it must be made by your hand.”
“Tony?” Jennifer’s tone was shocked. “What are you doing? Tell me you’re not actually considering this.”
“I don’t see that we have a fucking choice, Jennifer. These Black Lodge guys have been right about everything so far. I mean, sure, I’ll admit—I was skeptical at first, too. It all sounded like bullshit to me. But standing here, seeing that thing actually floating there in the air, I’m convinced. My fucking head hurts. I want to get the fuck out of here.”
“But he’s your friend!”
“Not really. A guy like me ain’t got many friends. I had one, once. Vince. But he ain’t around no more. This guy, Clark, originally sought me out just to fucking use me. Story of my life. Marano. The Feds. I’m sick of being used.”
“But that was then,” Clark insisted. “Okay, yes. At first, I was going to use you. Hell, I admitted it to you. But not now. She’s right,
Tony. Maybe we’re not friends, but we’re certainly not enemies. I’ve had your back this whole time.”
“And I had yours. And that don’t mean shit. It’s a fucking war zone, Clark. You do whatever the fuck you have to do to survive. And that’s what I’m doing now.”
Spittle ran down Clark’s chin. “Goddamn it, Tony, don’t do this!”
“What fucking choice do I have?” Tony yelled. “You think I fucking like doing this, Clark? You’re okay. You deserve better. So did a lot of other people that I’ve killed over the years. You need to understand something. This is what I do. This is what I’m good at. This is the only thing I’m good at. It’s like that old song by The Police. I can turn my heart to stone and then turn killing into an art.”
Jennifer made a choking sound, as if she were about to throw up.
Amethyst spread his hands in an almost apologetic gesture. “As I said back at your apartment, Tony, when you insisted on bringing Clark along—his blood would be on your hands.”
Clark lunged, but Diamond seized him. The two grappled, struggling with each other at the edge of the portal. Diamond’s sheer size and strength won out. He held Clark in a bear hug and planted his feet.
“So what do I have to do? Stab him with a sacrificial knife or some shit like that?”
Amethyst shook his head. “No. Shooting him will suffice. Quick and painless. The point is he has to die by your hand.”
Jennifer spat. “How can you be so clinical about this?”
“I’m not,” Amethyst replied. “Believe me, I don’t like this anymore than you do. Mr. Arroyo is an innocent in this struggle, just as you are. Unfortunately, a sacrifice must be made. I dare say Mr. Genova would refuse to have you fill that role. Therefore, it must be Clark who dies for the betterment of all mankind. Humanity’s protection is writ in the blood of innocents. It’s a necessary, if unpalatable, part of what we do. Tony understands this. Indeed, because of his past, he is uniquely suited to understand this better than most.”
Clark suddenly raised his foot and drove his heel down into the arch of Diamond’s foot. The big man grunted, but did not relinquish his hold. Clark’s eyes went wide as Tony pointed the rifle at him and sighted.
“Sorry about this, dude.”
“Tony…please.”
Tony squinted. “Jesus, my head is fucking killing me. Ia verm…”
“Verminus,” Amethyst prompted.
“Right. Ia verminus Leviathan. Ia destrato Leviathan. LEVIATHAN. That okay?”
Amethyst nodded.
Tony, Clark and Jennifer all moaned at the same time as the pain in their heads increased tenfold.
“Dagon is close,” Amethyst yelled. “He’ll breach any minute now. Hurry, Tony.”
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