Each breath felt artificial, like a simulation playing out of its own accord. “So what everyone says is true. Despite being such a huge incident, nobody really knows what happened, then?”
He shrugged. “I don’t want to give you any bad information. The newspapers treated it like it was a big deal, and talked up all the publicity and forensic evidence. But when you talk to people who were alive at the time, it’s strange how few people believe what they were told in retrospect. How few people can actually corroborate any of the claims. It’s unnerving. Makes the leaked papers that much weirder. Still got a box of ’em in a closet somewhere, but there’s not much to be found in them.”
Unnerving. A good word for it. Even her cuticles were tingling as she crossed her arms and tried to keep her goose bumps in check. It was almost too much information to handle, but one thing stood out to her among all the rest. “You said something about Grandpa having enemies.”
“Your grandfather became very strange after Mom died,” he said. “I don’t know what he was involved with, but I’d often hear him yelling on the phone, absolutely acidic. He always seemed to be mad about somebody, but it was so long ago I can’t remember what the guy’s name was. Doesn’t matter. He was often gone, left me and your aunt to ourselves. Probably once or twice a week, he was just gone, hours at a time, God knows where.”
A crazy idea came to Amanda. “I think I’d like to learn more about him,” she said.
Her father put on a weak smile that failed to hide the lingering wound beneath. “I’m afraid I was so young when he vanished that I don’t remember much. After he disappeared, social services put me and your aunt in a foster home.”
Amanda nodded, feeling a little dejected at the dead end. But then, an idea hit her, an idea absurd and yet deviously hopeful. “What happened to the house?”
“Nothing. It’s still standing in Old Town. I inherited it when I turned eighteen, but only went back once. The place was so overgrown and brought back so many bitter memories that I just left it as it was. Couldn’t bear to part with it, but couldn’t bear to go back.”
A strange certainty stirring within her, Amanda looked her father in the eye. “Do you still have the key?”
Silt once again found Kaj within the Vault, staring into the metallic column and his own reflection within. He wondered if Kaj had managed some form of contact with the beating thing within that cylinder, and if that was why he so often secluded himself down here. “Kaj,” he said.
Kaj stood, with a pompous air of grandeur, and turned. His eyes were sharp, conceited. “Good. I was hoping you’d show up soon. Any sign of Nexara yet?”
“No. The patrols have again found nothing. They combed downtown, and their sweep of Old Town has finished as well. They found not even a trace of the family.”
Kaj’s upper lip trembled. “Two weeks and nothing. And just what do you make of that?”
Silt nodded to himself, having thought over the Marauders’ failure for the past week. “I believe it points to the fact that they already left, long before the lockdown began. And that we’ve been wasting our time and effort.”
A sneer emerged from the crevices of Kaj’s chitin-eaten face. “As I feared. What would you have us do, then?”
“Me? You are asking my opinion on this?”
“Yes. As a thought experiment.”
He pretended to mull it over for a moment, already having decided. He knew Kaj would not like his answer. “Give up on the search. End the lockdown. It would require far too many resources to continue hunting them down, and our resources are growing fewer day by day. We should instead concentrate on the Eleventh Project, and see to it that it is completed in advance of schedule. If we can do that, then—”
“Then our time will run out.” Kaj turned once more to the metal cylinder and pulled his hood over his head. He placed his hand upon its surface, as though in veneration. “We cannot rely on unproven mechanisms when our souls are at stake. This is the zero hour. We need the Fifth and we need them now.”
Silt took a deep breath. “Then what would you suggest?”
A malevolent smile appeared beneath devilish eyes. “We must expand our search, of course. But with the Conduit in control of law enforcement and the media in the palm of our hand, it shall not require any of our resources at all. In fact, the world will be lining up to assist us.”
Nayor, Nemo thought, drifting between unconsciousness and awakening. Nayor, why have you forsaken me? Was he not meant for more than this? Like the crucified savior of Christianity, he had been abandoned and left for dead. He’d long since ceased feeling his bloodless arms, which were still chained against the machinery behind him. The only thing he felt was pain and solitude.
His mind gave him no rest. The damned voices of the creatures buzzed through his temples. He did not know if he had slept at all since his induction and rebirth. The creatures in the robes—the False Vant’therax—demanded his constant cooperation as the town of Grantwood was scoured. His attention was stretched thin through the spiders that spread further, infecting the brains of the interlopers from the county. Even as he claimed them as servants, he could not stretch his spirit any thinner to make them useful. And so those unlucky police officers and lawyers now sat in one of the old abandoned structures on the hill overlooking the town.
I deserve more, he thought. Nayor, why will you not answer me? He had tried several times to mentally connect to the Yellow King, to meld the minds as Dwyre had done, but the connection would not form. His mind kept repeating verses from the sacred scrolls, of the promise left to Repton and Griffith and Dwyre—the passages that promised that he was the blessed, the one to whom the glory and the honor was due. Know, too, that the Mists are not yours to craft, he thought. For unto you I grant the highest charge. Your honor will be great in the land of Ur’thenoth, and all shall revere your holy place.
What reverence was this? What honor was there in being no more than a tool for these wretched beasts of his own creation? He was meant to be the priest of Nayor, the link between the Yellow King and the Websworn. Now the Websworn were exiled and he was enchained, a servant to the wills of these heretics. They defiled the holy icons and relics—and he had helped them. He cursed his own name and the name of Simon Dwyre. But though he hated these things, these blasphemies, had he not been charged by Nayor to see them completed?
As the conflict continued to roil his mind, a sharp blade of thought tore through him. He wailed, his eyes lighting with a searing psychic blaze.
“Nemo,” the thought-voice of the Vant’therax Kaj said. “There has been no sign of the Fifth. Which means it is time to move to the next phase of the plan.”
He panted, trying to wrangle the inner fortitude to reply. “Next. Phase?”
The voices stirred behind his eyeballs. “This parasite can’t even find them with the entire town shut down. I don’t know what you expected,” said Nal.
“Seems we have no choice but to resort to using the Eleventh,” said Unn.
“The Eleventh is not ready,” said Dyn. “There are more tests that are needed. If there are any mistakes in the calculations, then—”
“We may need to risk it,” said Tar. “If the Fifth cannot be found, then the Eleventh is our last resort.”
Kaj’s mind-voice was more calm, however. “I am not yet ready to resort to using the Eleventh. While they are not without their problems, the Fifth are still the closest match those white-coats have so far come up with. Which means we’ll need to escalate our commitment. Nemo, prepare to make an announcement.”
Chapter 31
Three Miles in Bedlam
At breakfast the next morning, everybody except Kara and Ralph was sitting down to a meal of oats and eggs. Halfway through the uninformative newscast, a special report interrupted the drawl with sparkling graphics and patriotic banners. Spinneretta’s heart leapt, and she desperately hoped that the news was about Grantwood. It was a traitorous hope.
“This is a breaking n
ews special report with Josh Wessing. Good morning. Those of you out there hoping for an update on Placer County’s challenge of Grantwood’s complete lockdown, bad news; it seems that challenge is going to be taking a temporary back seat. Earlier this morning, the Grantwood Police Department announced they have expanded their search for the serial killer, and it seems they are turning to the public to help them catch the suspects. Currently, the Grantwood Police Department is pursuing any leads that could point them to the location of locals Ralph and May Warren, who are wanted for the murder of Simon Dwyre.”
Spinneretta gasped. “What!?”
A hush fell over them, broken immediately by her mother’s spoon clattering to the floor. “Murder!?” Across the table, Annika narrowed her eyes at the reporter.
“While many details are currently being withheld by police, a press release indicates that the Warrens are also the primary suspects in the other slayings that have ripped apart the community of Grantwood and pushed the town into its controversial lockdown state. An unnamed member of the Golmont Corporation’s board of directors has come forward, offering a three million dollar reward to anyone who can supply information leading police to the capture of Ralph and May Warren.”
As file photographs of May and Ralph appeared on the screen, Annika sighed and stood from her chair. “They’re pulling out all the stops now. They’re intent on turning this into a national issue.”
Mark nodded, a worried look on his face.
“Murder?” May said again. “What are they . . . What’s going on?”
“Holy shit,” Arthr muttered. He looked to and fro, as if he was too nervous to ask anyone for a reassuring word. Beside him, Kyle just wore a mask of fixed confusion.
Spinneretta sat paralyzed, almost unable to believe what they were hearing. She watched, numb, as Annika began to pace back and forth. For a few moments, nobody spoke as the development sank in.
Finally, Annika turned toward those still seated, a hard look on her face. “I’m afraid we’re out of options. I didn’t want to suggest this unless absolutely necessary, but it looks like we need to put Plan Z into effect.”
A fragile spark of hope formed in Spinneretta’s heart. “You’ve got a plan?”
Annika’s lips thinned. “You’re all going to leave everything behind. I’ve taken the liberty of securing new identities for everyone. Some of the documents are still pending, but you and Ralph are ready to go, May. We’ll plant you somewhere across the country and pray that God isn’t paying enough attention to fuck you over.”
May scoffed and gave her a dead stare. “New identities?”
Spinneretta’s stomach dropped, her hope draining at the words. “You have to be kidding.”
The woman turned her gaze back to Spinneretta; there was nothing in her face even suggestive of humor. “Your old identities are compromised. That much is beyond any denying. As it stands, the only way you’re coming out of this ahead is if you completely throw their tail.”
“But,” Spinneretta said, “what are we going to do about NIDUS? What happens to Grantwood if we . . . ?”
“Grantwood and NIDUS are no longer your concern. There’s nothing more we can do about them.”
“You mean we’re just supposed to walk away from what they’re doing? What about all the people who’ll be hurt and killed by them? We’re just supposed to abandon them?”
Annika breathed an irritated sigh and crossed her arms. “I’m going to say this again: those people are not your concern. Compared to what NIDUS stands to gain by locating you and your family, their lives are inconsequential.”
“I can’t believe this,” Spinneretta said. “Those are our friends and neighbors! How can you be so cold-hearted?”
“I prefer the term pragmatic.”
Spinneretta’s spider legs shook with fury and fear in equal measure. She turned to Mark, who was staring out the window. “There’s gotta be some other way. I mean, you must have some other plan. Right?”
He closed his eyes, and Spinneretta’s spirits fell further. “I have nothing,” he said.
Her lungs tried to reject the foul-tasting air. “No plan? You mean, the Repton Scriptures didn’t help with anything? You don’t have anything at all to fall back on?”
His expression was grave. “The only thing it taught me is that trying to fight NIDUS is suicide. Allow me to put this in perspective for you,” he said. “This is the last stand for the Vant’therax; if they do not get any results with the bounty they’re offering for May and Ralph, then they’re going to keep increasing it until the entire country is hunting you down with pitchforks and torches. They have nothing to lose anymore, but we have everything to lose.” Despair threw dark creases across his face that made him look ten years older than he was. “The only thing we can do is keep running. Run as far from here as we can. And then wait. The clock is ticking for them. The Vant’therax are dying, and once they’re dead so too dies the spider cult. So the only thing to do is run. Run and hope that we can run out their clock.”
“I have another plan,” May said. “We can give ourselves up.”
Everyone fell silent, and Spinneretta stared at her mother. There was an unprecedented severity in her eyes.
Annika scoffed. “You know, that’s actually a brilliant idea. I mean, if you want to stop being pursued by an evil cult, then the only logical thing to do is give yourselves up to them. That way, once they have you, they won’t have any reason to keep chasing you. Right? What the fuck kind of moon-logic are you using here?”
“Listen,” May said. “According to that announcement they’re not looking for the kids. They’re looking for me and Ralph. They probably think that we’re all a package deal. But if Ralph and I give ourselves up, then you can all get away. They don’t want anyone else to know about the kids. They couldn’t put up a reward for three minors with spider legs without outing the secret.”
“I hate to undermine the nobility of your devotion to your family,” Mark said, “but you’re missing a key factor here. Once you hand yourselves over, you are going to be infected with mind parasites just like everyone else they have under their control in Grantwood.”
Annika nodded. “At which point we have to assume they’ll know everything you know. That means they’ll know where we’ve been hiding. At the very least, they’re going to have a starting point from which to start tailing us. They’ll have Kyle, and unless we kill him or take him with us you can just add his brain to their collection.” At those words Kyle seemed to go rigid, but Annika ignored him. “Even without him, they’ll have enough information to close in. They’ll be able to identify me and Mark. The cycle will start again and they’ll always be one step behind us until we’re finally caught. I’m sorry. Even if you buy us some time, you’d just be tightening the noose around your kids’ necks. And I can’t let you do that.”
To Spinneretta’s horror, her mother began to nod. She thought she saw tears in her eyes, and that was enough to bring a trace of moisture to her own.
“Do you understand our situation?” Annika asked, her voice growing soft.
May just nodded.
“As I said, I’ve already done most of the work. I was hoping that it wouldn’t come to this, but it looks like we don’t have a choice.” Annika paused, and the air grew heavy with sorrow. “Of course, I can’t make this decision for you. I can just tell you how strongly I support this course of action. You have to know there will be no going back. Whatever life you had in Grantwood is dead and buried. Do you understand that?”
Again, May nodded. “I understand. Do what you have to do.”
“Mom,” Spinneretta said, breath shallow. She caught May’s eye but knew there was nothing she could say.
“Sometime today I’m going to need you to head into town,” Annika said. “You’re going to have to grab whatever money Ralph’s stashed in the bank before NIDUS gets a judge to sign off on any asset forfeitures. In the meantime, I’ll get our loose ends tied up. Get ready, everyone.
We leave tonight.”
Spinneretta marched up to the guest bedroom, a hollow feeling in her gut. She threw the door open and collapsed face-first into the pillow. Down the hall, she could hear Annika explaining something over the sound of Kara’s protests. Spinneretta breathed through the pillow, and each breath was like scouring her lungs with acid. Leaving Grantwood permanently had always been on her to-do list, but she’d never expected what started as a stupid night at prom to end in such a cruel twist of fortunes. Leaving Amanda and Chelsea to their potential deaths was unthinkable. But there was nothing they could do now.
There was a clacking sound, and something hopped up onto the bed next to her. It scuttled a little closer and rubbed its head against the bare skin of her arm. Spinneretta sighed through her teeth. The still-alien smell of the pillow soaked in through her legs. She moved her arm and began to pet Cinnamon. The Leng kitten curled its spider legs beneath it and began to make that bizarre purring sound in its throat.
New identities. Leaving the past for dead. Somehow, even that escape seemed hopelessly idealistic. If NIDUS wielded as much influence as she thought they did, then wouldn’t that last resort do little more than forestall the inevitable? Then again, if all they had to do was wait out the Vant’therax all dying off, then . . .
Maybe getting a new identity wouldn’t be so bad, she tried to convince herself. It shaved a year off her wait for Sarah Warren, or whatever Sarah she ended up as. But when they left, what would Mark do? Were Mark and Annika just going to uproot them and leave? What else could they do? As long as the brood was safe from NIDUS, they had no reason to stay, right? Spinneretta clenched her eyes shut, the pit in her stomach growing deeper. This is shit. But if that was what they had to trade for safety . . .
But then, something Kyle had said came back to her in a flash. Hadn’t he said that he’d been offered a job in Grantwood? Researching spiders? At the time she’d found it curious but had shrugged it off, as he otherwise had shown no malice toward them. But what if . . . She held her breath. Even if it was a one in a million chance, she couldn’t keep it to herself. Not with everybody risking so much already. And so she got up from the breath-warmed pillow and headed out, toward where she’d heard the detective’s voice before. Down the hall, she found Annika sifting through papers spread over the nightstand of the middle bedroom.
Helixweaver (The Warren Brood Book 2) Page 38