by Sam Sisavath
“Should we, uh, be standing out in the open like this?” Keo asked, not even trying to hide the very real worry in his voice.
“Relax, we’re expecting it,” Nolan said.
Relax. Right, Keo thought, watching as the helicopter began to slow down before starting to lower itself to the ground. It was far enough from them that the rotors-generated brownout only reached them as a brief hail of dirt.
Nolan and Cassandra were already riding toward the chopper, leaving Keo and the others behind.
Keo looked over at Wally, who had slipped a handkerchief over his mouth. “Friends of yours?”
“How do you think we knew about Fenton?” the big man said, his voice slightly muffled. “They told us.”
They were figures in dark blue fatigues jumping out of the big chopper as it settled on the uneven ground. There were four of them that Keo could see through the still-swirling clouds—all armed, sunlight glinting off their rifles and ballistic helmets. They moved with purpose, taking up defensive positions around the aircraft.
A fifth arrival had followed the soldiers down from the Sikorsky and stood waiting as Nolan and Cassandra neared. The Cordine City people hopped off their horses and shook the newcomer’s hand as the dust settled around them.
“Come on,” Wally said.
Keo followed him over to the helicopter. “So that’s why you guys attacked the Fenton people. You were warned about them.”
“Uh huh. They got in touch over the radio.”
“You believe everything you hear on the radio?”
“No, but it wasn’t just anyone on the radio.”
Keo kept quiet, but he had a feeling he already knew who Wally was talking about. It didn’t take very long to put a name and a face to the figure Nolan and Cassandra were talking to. She looked across the remaining twenty or so meters that separated them and smiled.
He wasn’t exactly sure how to respond. He hadn’t expected this. Keo wasn’t even sure if he wanted it, but there it was.
There she was.
Her hair was shorter than he remembered, but her eyes were just as blue as the last time he saw them. She watched him approach while Nolan and Cassandra spoke to her, and for a moment, just a moment, there was just the two of them staring across at one another.
“Keo,” she said when he finally reached them. “Gaby was convinced you’re still out here. I hear that bets were taken.”
“Captain Optimism, that kid,” Keo said.
“You know this joker?” Nolan asked, glancing back at Keo.
Lara smiled. “He’s an old friend. I just wish he’d call or write a letter sometimes.”
“You know I don’t write so good,” Keo said. “What are you doing all the way out here, anyway? Mind you, not that I’m complaining. You’ll be able to tell these guys I’m not from Fenton.”
“That’s why I’m here. Fenton.”
“Gaby told you?”
Lara nodded. “She and Peters gave me their reports.”
“Good to hear they both made it. So what happens now?”
“We get ready for war.”
“Sounds like fun.”
She pursed her lips. “No, it’s not, but it has to be done. Someone has to stop Fenton. Can I count on you?”
Keo nodded at one of the very well-armed figures that had hopped down the helicopter before her. “I don’t have to wear something like that, do I?”
“You’re Keo,” Lara smiled. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
Keo smiled back at her and nodded. “All right, then. But only if I can call dibs on Buck. I made him a promise, and I intend to follow through on it.”
Epilogue
They had hurt him. Wounded him. Made him bleed. For the first time in a long time, he remembered what it was like to be mortal. To be weak. To be human again. The last time was when he sensed The Father’s life slipping away, little by little, at the hands of The Traitor.
Merrick hadn’t moved for the last few hours, not even after the darkness chased the dreaded sun away and his children came out of the black woods and empty buildings. They were packed on the surface of the forest right now. They were worried for him, calling out to him, begging to hear his voice.
But Merrick kept quiet because it would have taken too much to reach out into the hive to ease their worry. Right now, he had to concentrate on himself.
On healing.
Because they had hurt him.
The meat suits had hurt him. They had chased him from his prey. He had been forced to flee. They had made him run for his life.
But it could have been worse. It could have been so much worse.
Humans. He despised them. Everything about them turned his stomach. The stink that emanated from every pore on their body. The clumsy way they moved. Even the loud—so, so loud—way they breathed.
You should have wiped them out when you had the chance, Father. You shouldn’t have let so many of them live.
But The Father was gone, if not forgotten. Merrick would never let him be forgotten. Not while he still drew breath.
We had everything in our palms, Father. But we let it all slip away.
You let it all slip away.
How? How did we lose everything because of a lone traitor?
Merrick chased the anger away. Anger did nothing to help him heal from his wounds. And the wounds were deep, the kind that scarred his bones. The second explosion had almost gotten him.
Too close. It should never have been that close.
He was alive, but many of his children weren’t. He had lost too many, even more than back at the town when the human fled on his animal. So much more than that night. Merrick could still hear their voices in his head, hear their screams, replaying over and over.
Hundreds. He had lost hundreds of the little ones.
It pained him, even more than his own injuries. These were his children, born from his blood, the way he was born from The Father’s. The ones above him now, clawing at the dirt, trying to reach his embrace, called him Father.
They were scared, frenzied, fighting each other to get to him, but he had buried himself too deep for them to reach. They were weak, his children. Faithful and insistent, and so, so loyal, but weak and easy to kill.
(Again.)
But they were his, not The Father’s, and Merrick felt every one of their losses. He had sacrificed too many to get to the human. He was the key—the door to the others.
They helped kill you, Father. They were there, when you died. They were allies with The Traitor. I’ll make them pay for their crimes.
The soft, cold earth was heavy against his eyelids as he opened them, not that he needed eyes to see. He could use his children’s eyes and witness the black of the forest through their senses. They were everywhere—on the ground, in the trees, moving across open plains. Scared, after last night, but faithful. So, so faithful.
Stay hidden, my children. Don’t let them see you. It’s not time yet.
But the time would come, and there would be nothing to stop Merrick from enjoying his vengeance. On the filthy humans who had been down there when Father died; on the ones that roamed the land now, believing they were safe from him, from his brothers.
Brothers. Where are you? Why won’t you come to me? Why won’t you join me in this struggle?
They were in hiding and refusing to answer his voice. They hunted the night, feasting on animals that had become plentiful again. They had gone back to the old ways, made themselves invisible for fear of hunters.
He had done the same, but for a different reason. He needed to build his army in secret.
Soon, my children. We’ll reclaim this paradise.
Soon, we’ll show them whose world this is.
Merrick closed his eyes and concentrated on the healing.
They had almost gotten him last night, but he yet lived.
And as long as he lived, he would make them pay. Every single one of them.
Painfully.
>
Eternally.
And it will be glorious, Father.
I will make you proud. I will make you proud…