by T. J. Klune
The bees thrived here. He could feel them crawling along his skin, whispering promises to him that they could never keep. They promised to show him things if he stayed down below, and the killer in him laughed and said things like yes, and I’ll stay. I promise I’ll stay, even though Cavalo didn’t want to.
The knife was cold in his hand. The man below him was warm. It was a study in contrasts that Cavalo didn’t have time for. Not now.
His voice was steady and cool when he said, “Between the ribs. Into the heart. It’ll hurt, but only for a moment. Then it will be over.”
Lucas nodded.
And somehow, Cavalo broke above the surface, fingers and arms and face covered in bees, choking as they poured down his throat. His voice was harsh and broken when he said, “Are you sure?”
Lucas nodded.
Cavalo went back under.
He didn’t flinch when Lucas leaned up and kissed him gently on the mouth. He kissed him back because it was the right thing to do.
He could hear himself screaming inside his head.
He put the knife against the Dead Rabbit’s side and thought, Maybe I should just follow him now. It’d be easier. And it’ll be my choice.
It was a coward’s way out. All of this was.
It’d be on his own terms, at least.
He almost felt bad when he thought of Bad Dog and SIRS finding them. Bad Dog would be heartbroken. SIRS would mourn. But he was so far under that they were nothing more than fleeting thoughts. He didn’t think any part of his skin was visible. He looked like a roiling mass of silvery wings and onyx stingers. He wondered if he would drown in them.
It had to be done now.
He just had to do it now.
He was on the precipice of a great thing. A momentous occurrence.
It was time for him to rise.
And just before he stabbed the knife upward into Lucas’s heart, the man named James Cavalo somehow managed to say, “I’m sorry. For everything.”
Lucas touched his face and said, I would do it again. For this.
Cavalo thought, NOW NOW NOW.
He thought, NO NO NO.
His hand tightened on the knife.
NOW NOW NOW.
The muscles in his arms coiled.
NO NO NO.
He gritted his teeth and—
And an alarm went off.
The klaxon blared.
Cavalo’s breath punched its way out of his chest.
A light swirled red above the door to the tunnels.
Cavalo broke through the bees. Breathed the surface. He pulled the knife away because it was close. Too close.
He rose from the bed. Lucas followed him up. They stood side by side.
What is it? Lucas asked. He looked as dazed as Cavalo felt. Almost like they’d woken from a shared dream to a cold reality.
“Proximity alarms,” Cavalo said. “They’re here.”
THEY DIDN’T discuss the fact that Cavalo had almost killed Lucas at his request as they entered the tunnels. It was something lost in the bees. Cavalo knew all he had to do was take the knife back from Lucas and shove it into his chest, but Lucas was resolute at his side, the warrior pushing forward. They were done with that. For now.
People tried to stop them, to ask him questions (who and what and why), but Cavalo ignored them. Lucas growled silently when they tried to step in front of him, and they fell back, eyes wide with fear. The blare of the klaxon grated against Cavalo’s ears. He tried to shut it out but it was all he could hear.
He reached the steps that led into the barracks. More people waited for him at the top of the stairs. Always with their questions. It was disorienting, having so many here in his space. He wondered briefly if it’d be easier to sink back below the surface, but he wasn’t sure how many of them he would kill.
There was a man who grabbed his arm to get his attention, and Cavalo thought, Arm down. Foot to kneecaps. Break them sideways. Hands to face. Gouge the eyes. As the thoughts roared through the bees, he began to submerge himself and turned to kill the man who touched him and—
“Are they here?” Hank asked, voice getting through from somewhere off to the left.
Cavalo stopped, and the man who touched him dropped his arms, unaware that he’d almost died. He felt the brush of a hand against his. Lucas. The feel of weight against his legs. Bad Dog. He took a breath and let it out slowly.
Good? Bad Dog asked him. You smelled like bees.
Cavalo shook his head. “It’s okay.”
Bad Dog didn’t look like he believed him, but didn’t push it.
“Where’s SIRS?”
“In the back office,” Alma said, standing next to Hank. “Watching the monitors. It’s hard to see. They’re old and with the storm….” She looked away.
Cavalo looked toward the closest panel on the far wall. It was dark, meaning SIRS was controlling them, not allowing others to see what he could. It was better that way. Depending on what they could see.
He needed to get back there.
“Do we have a plan?” Hank asked.
Cavalo snorted, feeling slightly hysterical. “I think we’re past planning now.”
“This isn’t going to end well,” Hank muttered, and he sounded so much like Deke that Cavalo’s heart hurt. He pushed it away. He could worry about those he let die later.
“Keep everyone calm,” he told Hank and Alma. “Only the Patrol should be armed for right now. I need to go see what’s out there.”
“We know what’s out there,” Hank said in a low voice.
Cavalo said nothing as he pushed his way through the crowd. He didn’t know why SIRS continued to let the alarms ring through. He should have silenced them by now. People were starting to panic, and it was only making things worse.
People moved as he carved a path toward the rear of the barracks. Their questions mixed in with the alarm, and he curled his hands into fists at his sides to keep from lashing out. Lucas and Bad Dog were beside him, both baring their teeth until people moved.
He could see SIRS’s outline through the office window, hidden behind ancient plastic blinds that no longer pulled up. The door was shut. Screens flickered, but the robot did not move.
Before he could push on, Bill stood in front of him, looking harried. “The fences will stay up and running,” he said quickly. “We’ve got enough juice to keep them up and running at full power for at least a few days.”
Cavalo nodded sharply but pushed past him. They didn’t have time for this. Not now.
“Did you know your audio was out?” Bill called after him. “Fixed it for you. Don’t know why SIRS couldn’t have done that.”
And everything came to a halt.
He tried to breathe, but he couldn’t get his lungs to work.
The bees laughed.
He turned. “What?” he managed to ask.
Bill looked confused. “The audio. For the cameras and monitors. I noticed it was out. Wire had been cut. Stripped it and put it back together. Should be full audio now.”
No.
Everything slowed down around Cavalo. Colors bled together as he turned back toward the office. His heart was thunderous in his chest. He ran. He ran as fast as he could, but it was like moving through water, and he could hear SIRS in his head, the first words he’d ever said to him when Cavalo had stumbled upon the prison that dark night so very long ago. Well, this certainly is a surprise. How lovely it is to see a human again. It has been such a long time. Now, state your business before I snap your neck and leave your body for the animals in the woods to pick at.
Even then, Cavalo knew SIRS was like him.
He ran toward his friend.
He hit the metal door to the office. It did not budge. He slammed his hands against it. And from inside, he heard voices.
“Robot.” A small voice, filled with static and rage.
“Yes, Father.” He’d never sounded more robotic.
Cavalo screamed for SIRS. Begged him.
&nbs
p; “I was Rebekah’s nurse who died and was buried under the oak before Bethel.”
“Father, may I?”
“You may.”
Cavalo grabbed a rifle from a man he did not know and bashed the butt of it into the window. It did not shudder. It did not shake. It did not crack. Cavalo remembered once that SIRS had told him it was bulletproof. To protect the guards, he’d said.
The mechanical response: “But Deborah Rebekah’s nurse died, and she was buried beneath Bethel under an oak; and the name of it was called Allonbachuth.”
Cavalo turned the rifle around and shot the window. People screamed behind him as the bullet ricocheted.
And even above the noise, he could hear the final question, and his heart broke again and again.
“I was the star that fell when the third angel sounded.”
And Sentient Integrated Response System said, “And the third angel sounded, and there fell a great star from heaven, burning as it were a lamp, and it fell upon the third part of the rivers, and upon the fountains of waters.”
“SIRS!” Cavalo cried. His voice broke like glass.
“And the name of the star is called Wormwood; and the third part of the waters became wormwood; and many men died of the waters, because they were made bitter.”
“Don’t do this,” Cavalo whispered. “Please.”
“Robot.” Patrick sounded delighted.
“Yes, Father?”
“Do you know Lucas?”
“Ye-e-es,” SIRS ground out. “He is… my… there is no….”
“Robot.”
“Yes,” SIRS said with great anger.
“Bring me the boy. Let nothing stand in your way.”
Cavalo took a step back from the door.
The monitors in the room went dark.
Cavalo took another step back.
“Don’t make me do this,” he said quietly as he raised the rifle. Maybe half a clip left.
Something shifted inside the office. He knew the robot had turned toward the door when a bright flash of red shone from the room. The robot’s eyes. Like before.
“Please,” Cavalo said.
Lucas drew his knife.
Bad Dog crouched at his side, tail flicking dangerously.
And from behind the metal door, came the grind of gears, the breaking of coils, the warning beeps of algorithms failing. These metallic sounds carried with them the whispers of apologies, the pain of regrets.
Before Cavalo could scream at the others to move, there was a groan of metal as the door was ripped from its hinges. It flew out onto the floor, dust billowing up in a mushroom cloud. The robot bent over to walk through the doorway, his arms scraping against the entrance, causing stone and plaster to crack. The thin line stretched out farther down the wall, reaching the window. As he struggled through without any of his usual economic grace, the doorway split and groaned, and the bulletproof glass shuddered in its frame. A thin sliver appeared in the glass as it bent. Cavalo told himself to fire, to fire now, but his finger hesitated on the trigger even as the bloodred eyes of the robot landed on him. This was the robot that held him up in the air and broke his fingers when Patrick told him to. This was the robot that no longer had free will.
That’s what he told himself. That’s what he screamed in the bees to make himself fire.
His finger put pressure on the trigger, and he aimed for the robot’s head.
But the robot was fast, faster than Cavalo had ever seen him move before. One moment he was pulling himself through the crumbling doorway and the next he was running forward, body crouched low as he scooped up the metal door right when Cavalo fired the Bakalov. The robot held the door in front of him, acting as a shield. Bullets smashed into the door and flew off into the ceiling. The floor. The walls. Little puffs of dust and cement as they embedded themselves into the rock.
Cavalo knew then, with utmost certainty, that this wasn’t going to end well.
The Bakalov began to click dryly in his hands.
The robot stood slowly.
“Don’t do this,” Cavalo said.
“We are nothing but quarks and stardust,” the robot replied, eyes flashing dangerously. “Give me Lucas.”
“No.” He stepped in front of Lucas. Crowded him back. For a moment he thought Lucas would stab him in the back for acting as he did. Instead he felt Lucas bow his head until his forehead pressed against Cavalo’s neck. Until his breath ran against Cavalo’s skin. His hand touched the small of Cavalo’s back and he couldn’t believe he’d almost murdered Lucas. He couldn’t believe it’d almost come to that.
And then Lucas slipped the knife into his hand, and Cavalo knew what he was asking for. Asking of him again.
Lucas must die before the robot could take him.
“Don’t,” he said, but he didn’t know to whom.
“You and I,” the robot said. He took a shuddering step forward, dragging the door at his side. “It’s… not like… I thought it’d be.” The words sounded as if they were coming at great cost. Deep inside SIRS came the smell of burning.
“It’s more,” Cavalo said, gripping the knife and telling himself to turn, to bring the knife up and into the bottom of Lucas’s jaw and shove up to his brain. It’d be over quickly. The body would die and would start to break down, hopefully before Patrick could use it. It was their last play, and he just had to do it.
The light in the robot’s eyes faded back to orange, and for a moment, Cavalo had hope. Irrational, beautiful hope, and SIRS said in a small voice, “It hurts, Cavalo.”
Cavalo knew it did. Could feel it in his bones.
But then the eyes went red again, and the pained voice was gone. “Give me the boy, Cavalo.”
Now. Now. Now.
No. No. No.
He whirled around, spinning on his heels. He swung the knife up, and for a split second, his eyes locked with Lucas’s and he thought, I’ll see you soon, and the knife—
The knife fell from his hand as the robot twisted his wrist viciously. Gray waves of pain rolled over his body, oily and hot as he heard bones snap. He had no further time to process anything else when he was flung across the room, back crashing into the far wall.
In his haze of red and gold, Cavalo heard people screaming. He managed to raise his head, blood trickling from his nose and mouth. It took everything he had to look up. As his vision began to fail and unconsciousness pulled him into the dark, he saw what was meant to be an ending:
Bad Dog, lying on the floor, whining softly, taking shallow breaths.
People pushing and screaming, trampling those who couldn’t move fast enough.
Aubrey, eyes wide and wet.
Hank, yelling words that Cavalo couldn’t quite make out.
Alma, struggling to stand against the tide of bodies flowing against her.
And last, he saw SIRS and Lucas. SIRS, standing as tall as he’d ever been. Eyes red, arm outstretched. Those spider hands were wrapped around Lucas’s throat, holding him three feet off the ground. Lucas’s feet kicked, his hands scrabbled against the metal arm.
Almost quicker than Cavalo could follow, the robot turned and smashed through the far wall, stone and plaster falling to the floor. The snow swirled as he ran, Lucas still in his hand. Before he leapt over the electrified fence and disappeared, Lucas reached out once toward Cavalo.
Then they were gone.
And Cavalo fell into the dark.
surprise
JAMIE AND Cavalo walked through a forest hand in hand. It was dark. The trees were big. Things moved on either side of them, hidden by the shadows. Sometimes Cavalo saw the flash of red eyes amongst the leaves and branches and thought to himself how clever monsters and cannibals were.
He knew there was something he was forgetting. It buzzed at the frayed edges of his mind, but he couldn’t quite grasp hold before it flitted away. No matter. If it came, it came.
He chuckled to himself.
“What’s so funny, Daddy?” Jamie asked him.
/> “I don’t know,” Cavalo said. Why were they out this late? Jamie needed to go to bed. They had an early day tomorrow. They were going to… well. He didn’t remember what exactly they were going to do, but it didn’t explain why they were in a forest in the middle of the night. His son was young. He needed sleep.
She was going to be mad at him. Claire. His wife. Sometimes she danced, but she could get mad too.
“No,” Jamie said, swinging Mr. Fluff in his other hand. “She won’t be.”
“How do you know?” Cavalo asked, wondering if he’d spoken about Claire aloud. He must have. It would’ve been the only way Jamie could have heard him.
Jamie shrugged. “When is a tree not a tree?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“When it’s dead.” And then he laughed like it was the greatest joke he’d ever heard. Cavalo didn’t get it, but his son had this high-pitched laugh that was always contagious, and he grinned along with him.
And then his son started screaming because, really, he was dead. He had died years ago, and Cavalo could only remember it now.
Jamie handed him Mr. Fluff and walked backward into the shadows of the forest, mouth open and screaming, head jerking side to side.
He disappeared into the dark.
It grew quiet.
“Jamie?” Cavalo called out, but there was no response.
He looked down at Mr. Fluff.
The rabbit had a note pinned to one of his paws. Cavalo took the pin out. Mr. Fluff jerked in his hands and began to bleed white stuffing. He dropped the rabbit, and it ran away into the trees. He didn’t know Mr. Fluff could run. It scared him.
He unrolled the note. It said: