by McGill, Brie
Ninkasi climbed out of the trunk, sitting on the edge of the vahan. “I’m here because. . . you’re looking for Orion, right?”
“No.” Nero crossed his arms.
“It’s a secondary objective.” Aleister shoved her aside and reached into the trunk, shouldering a black backpack over his arm. “He was supposed to come with us, but he apparently has his own agenda.” He shook his head. “If we cross paths, great—but if we blow the place and obliterate him in the process, it’s his own damn fault for leaving without telling me.”
“Blow the place?” She narrowed her eyes. “Where are we?” Ninkasi glanced around: all she could see in any direction was a thicket of tall, needle-point trees and leaping ferns on a dirt floor. “You don’t like nature?” She frowned.
“We’re roughly two clicks outside of the head facility of Techthonic Innovations.” Aleister clapped his hands.
She craned her neck forward. “Techthonic Innovations? That’s the company that—”
Aleister lifted a hand to silence her.
Nero approached them, wearing an identical denim suit, fitted much better. “We can’t leave her here unsupervised. She’s our bargaining chip.” His nametag read, ‘Allen.’
Ninkasi placed a hand on her chin. “How did you get these uniforms, Aleister?”
“We staked out the real electricians and dealt with them!” He dismissed her with a hasty wave of the arm. “What are you saying, Nero?” He crossed his arms. “We take her with us?”
“We don’t have any other choice.” Nero grimaced. “It’s not safe to leave her here. We don’t know what other harebrained things she might try.”
She shot him a cold stare. “Is spewing bile really necessary?”
Aleister mounted the side of the vehicle, and hoisted himself into the roof hatch. “There’s an extra uniform in here, somewhere.”
Nero scowled.
Aleister emerged a moment later, tossing a work shirt and denim jumper to Ninkasi. “Change.”
She caught the clothes and jumped to her feet, studying them nervously. “I’ll be right back—”
“You’ll change right here!” Aleister wagged a scraggly finger, and turned his back to her.
Nero stood with his hands on his hips, keeping a close and watchful eye.
“Hey, pervert?” Ninkasi spun her finger in a circle. “Want to turn around?”
Nero shook his head. “You can’t be trusted.”
She roared and turned around, stepping into the denim pants, keeping the chemise pulled over her legs, like she was changing in the high school locker room. She tugged the billowing pants up to her waist, and grudgingly tossed the dress over her head. She examined the work shirt, unfolding it, and discovered an embroidered nametag, ‘Pat.’
Nero continued to hawk her, appraising her, shirtless.
Ninkasi bent over, covering her chest with the top of the denim jumper. Scooping a pinecone from the ground, she lobbed it at Nero’s face.
The pinecone knocked against his head.
He stood unmoved, sweeping a piece of leaf from his hair.
She climbed into the work shirt, and fastened the suspenders over her shoulders. “Pat, huh? What is this?”
“We’re electricians.” Aleister tapped on his chest.
Nero spat. “What a hindrance.”
“If you’d ask nicely, maybe I could help you.” She put her hands on her hips. “I’m smart, you know.”
Aleister narrowed his eyes. “How smart?”
“I finished my eleventh year.” She shook her mane of hair.
Nero’s face contorted. “You have a postgrad degree?”
“It's brand new.” She shook her head. “In fact, I was kidnapped while celebrating my graduation.” She glared.
“You don’t look that old.” Aleister stepped back, scrutinizing her.
“I did it in less than eleven years.” She shut her eyes. “I’m that smart.”
Nero hoisted the remaining backpacks from the trunk. “We should move out. The other teams are probably close to position.”
“Before we go!” Aleister grabbed her by the suspenders, pulling her close. From his pocket, he retrieved a sparkling belt of cloudy orbs, flecked with bits of crystal and metal shavings.
She narrowed her eyes. “You made this in your lab, didn’t you?”
Aleister draped it over her neck and under one arm, like reserve ammunition. “These orbs are anzein accumulators.”
Ninkasi lifted the chain of stones, inspecting it. “Mind telling me what it actually does?”
“Nothing. . .” Aleister squinted, wrinkling his nose. “Nothing to you. But if you are approached by something awful that a hefty dose of physical violence can’t deter, the beads may save your life.”
She squeezed the beads, and tucked them into her shirt. “I’m not sure I understand, but. . . thanks.”
Nero rubbed a hand against the back of his head. “You’re not as smart as you say, are you?”
“For choosing to tag along with a self-righteous sourpuss like you?” She shook her ponytail. “Apparently not.”
“Honey.” Aleister clapped his hands. “Tell me that story along the way. . .”
Orion paused in the hall, a sudden tide of broken, painful feelings cresting over him. He sensed a distinct presence: was she here?
His heart thumped. Impossible. She was dead.
This ugly place, so unchanged by time, made him want to reach out and believe she was real. His own pain and longing blurred with memories, raised to false life like a corpse from the grave by a reintroduction to his prison, her resting place.
He left her here to die.
It was reasonable to assume he felt his own guilt knocking, rather than some ephemeral thread of her spirit, for she was long gone, in some greater place of comfort.
His only solace.
It frightened him to think that guilt could become so tangible.
Orion had a mission to accomplish, and the last thing he wanted was to fall victim to his own flashbacks, his own nightmares, en route to vanquishing their source.
“You’re familiar with Techthonic Innovations?” Aleister lugged two heavy backpacks and tromped ahead through the forest.
“Yeah.” Ninkasi scuttled after him, one backpack weighing heavily upon her shoulders. “Somewhat.”
“It stands to reason.” Aleister marched, pushing a branch out of the way. “Given the nature of your father’s work.”
She shook her head. “My father never discusses his work.”
Nero snorted. “A man of that caliber can’t be that stupid, not when it comes to protecting his agenda, anyway.”
Head jerking to the side, Ninkasi shot him a cold stare. “It’s the reason my parents split.”
Nero’s face softened. “Your father’s work?”
Aleister forged ahead, shoving through branches.
One needled branch snapped back and whipped Ninkasi in the face.
“Techthonic Innovations.” She winced. “My youngest sister, Angelina, was twelve when her school changed its vaccine program. That was two years ago.” She bent the branch to pass. “This was the same elementary school, the only elementary school Noah and I ever attended. My mom knew all the teachers, volunteered to chaperone the class for field trips to Jambu’s science center, always went to all the parent-teacher conferences.”
Nero flipped open his RCU, engrossed in the screen as he walked, eyes lifting periodically to study Ninkasi.
“Every year, the school sends out a permission slip for parents to authorize medical treatment for the students. My mom went ahead and signed the papers like she did every year, like she always did for me and for Noah.” Ninkasi sighed. “Only, that year, it mentioned in ambiguous terms that the vaccine schedule was modernized.”
Aleister glanced over his shoulder.
She shook her head. “It was the year Techthonic Innovations issued an experimental vaccine that was touted as a panacea for illnesses in children. T
he company had too much of an investment at stake to allow the media to report on the vaccine’s dubious safety record.” Ninkasi kicked a pinecone across the ground.
Aleister sighed.
“Of course, while it was eventually yanked off the market, Angelina got the shot, along with all the other kids in her class.” She rested a hand on her forehead. “A day or two later, she came down with what we thought was the brambleberry flu, but it didn't go away. My mom took her to the doctor—nothing they tried made her better.” She paused. “She got really pale, scary pale, and confused. She wouldn't get out of bed. She can hardly talk anymore, and she's always in pain.”
“That’s fucked up.” Aleister bent back another branch.
Ninkasi shielded her face with her arm, blocking the branch. “We've been to every kind of doctor, saw every kind of specialist, and nobody could help.”
Nero looked up from his phone. “Shit.”
“Angelina rarely has the energy to get out of bed.” Ninkasi swallowed. “One doctor said it might be a neurological injury. She might be like this for the rest of her life.”
Aleister grunted with disgust.
“Of course, my mom wanted to sue for damages!” Ninkasi flung her arms in the air. “My father has controlled the most populous bloc of voters in Jambu for years, and a disproportionate chunk of his campaign funding comes from—”
“Let me guess.” Aleister raised a finger. “Techthonic Innovations.”
“And. . . he. . . wasn’t about to sacrifice his career.” She kicked another pinecone. “My dad moved out, found himself a new girlfriend. My mom raised us with his hush money—he continued to support us in full, so long as my mother never said a word to endanger his career.” She covered her face with her hands. “Then Mom started drinking. . .”
“It makes me sick.” Aleister shook his head.
“She still cries at night when she's drunk.” Ninkasi sighed. “Not a day goes by where she doesn't blame herself for it. It’s insane.”
“In insane times such as these!” Aleister threw out his arms, rustling the trees. “It requires insane measures to effectively deliver justice to an oppressed population!”
Nero maintained a safe distance from Aleister.
“We shall spare the innocent, circumvent their slaughter!” He beat a fist against his chest. “The most sane thing anyone can do is to stop them dead in their tracks, to blow these vampires straight to hell!”
Ninkasi raised an eyebrow. “You’re really going to blow them to hell?”
“How smart are you, kid?” Aleister nicked her in the shoulder with his fist. “Did you study engineering?”
“No, poli-sci.” She snorted. “What my dad wanted me to do, of course.”
“If you would have studied geology” —Nero cleared his throat— “you’d know there are only different layers of rock inside the earth, not a hell.”
Aleister looked to the side. “Can you find your way around a circuit board?”
“I had some basic physics.” Ninkasi rubbed the back of her head. “I can’t build a robot, but I might be able to help you attach some wires.”
Aleister shook his fists in the air. “Fantastic.”
She stumbled to a halt and leaned away from him. “Um. . . great?”
“Great!” He waved an arm, smacking Nero. “Because you realize that backpack you're lugging is stuffed with explosives!”
Nero grimaced.
Her eyes widened.
“Don’t worry.” Nero hastened his step to walk beside her. “We won’t get caught. Although.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I bet Daddy wouldn’t let anything happen to you, anyway, even if you were caught.”
“Oh, please.” Aleister waved a hand dismissively. “I’ve been doing this for longer than either of you have been alive. I don’t get caught.”
Ninkasi felt her stomach twist. “I hope Orion isn’t caught. . .”
Orion inserted his hand into the black box beside the elevator: this was it.
He arrived undetected, his mission a success. Beyond the facade of human engagement, he was free to ruthlessly pursue his objective, because, beneath the surface, every rule was different.
He could walk openly with the power of a lord; only those he wished to destroy outranked him.
He smirked. His infiltration was flawless—
A hand grabbed his shoulder.
Sucking in a sharp breath, Orion whirled around, eyes wide with horrified surprise.
It was Andrealphus, in a pumpkin-orange, three-piece silk suit with gold and pink brocade. The monster stared at him with eyes outlined in black pencil, eyelids smudged with a cherry kohl, lips curled at the edges with a dastardly smile.
Fully grown, Orion stood below Andrealphus’s shoulder. He tilted his head, looking with smoldering hatred into the giant’s eyes, and turned his attention to the massive hand on his shoulder.
“You’ve returned!” Andrealphus’s voice was a grainy, growling whisper. Smiling, he flashed a hint of jagged teeth.
Orion dropped his stance and swung his shoulders, trying to twist from the giant’s grip.
Andrealphus dug his manicured nails into Orion’s shoulder, and shook his head.
“You’re dead.” Orion narrowed his eyes: he detected nothing from Andrealphus, no heartbeat, no temperature, no scent, no psycho-electrical disturbances. “I sense no beating heart. You’re dead.”
“It broke my heart when you ran away, boy.” The giant seized his neck with an iron grip. “But your mother is resourceful, quite deft in her dabblings with organic power cells.”
Keeping his eyes locked on the giant, reluctant to telegraph his thoughts, Orion ripped the kluzein pistol from his belt and fired.
Andrealphus winced, but persevered in a wide stance.
Orion fired again and again, finger digging into the trigger until the gun expired. He had packed kluzeins to deal with any potentially troublesome humans along the way; there were none beneath the surface that would have challenged him, save Echidna. With this in mind, he failed to concern himself with other weapons, anzein weapons, Aleister's special anti-monster weapons that made him ill.
Why should he have bothered to pack a weapon to defeat Andrealphus when Andrealphus was already dead? Orion saw his death with his own eyes. . . years ago.
Andrealphus stared at him, his mouth a straight line, unamused.
But things must have changed; he didn't suspect the dead to rise again. Kluzeins were useless against this monster.
Orion dropped the weapon. His raw physical power, much like the gun, was not enough to overpower a terror this size.
“You’ve come to see your mother, have you?” Andrealphus squeezed a hand around Orion’s neck.
Orion’s eyes widened and he gasped for air, his own rage and disgust catching in his throat.
How many times would he have to kill Andrealphus before he stayed dead?
“I’ll take you downstairs.” The giant reached gold-ringed fingers into his embroidered silk pocket, procuring a syringe. “She has plans for you.” In one fluid stroke, he drove the needle into Orion’s arm.
David and Goliath :: Nightmare 5/6
XII.
Andrealphus batted the boy across the room with a gargantuan hand. “Maybe now you’ll think twice about meddling with things you don’t understand.” He reached out, digging a big hand with jagged nails into his neck.
The boy winced. His heart thumped, body quaking with disgust and revulsion.
“I’m not through with you yet.” He tightened his grip.
The boy wheezed, smelling the alcohol on his breath. His body ached. He felt disgusting; he knew what she felt, the monster violating his body. He wanted it all to stop.
Andrealphus lifted him off the ground. “You dare to meddle with my agenda.” He narrowed his eyes. “You good-for-nothing runt.”
The boy thrashed in his grip, kicking and clawing at the iron hand, struggling to break free.
What else could
Andrealphus do to him next? What greater evil remained than using him that way?
“You’ll mind your business, if you know what’s best for both of you.” Andrealphus’s face twisted into a ferocious scowl, revealing sharp teeth. Thrusting the boy against the wall, he pinned him with one hand. “Scream, boy. You deny me the pleasure.” The monster clawed his fingers into the boy’s neck, pressing harder, threatening to puncture the skin. “I want to hear you scream.”
The boy squinted, gasping for air, fighting in vain to pry the fingers around his neck free. It was impossible; the demon’s grip was strong as steel.
“Scream for your life, runt!” He crushed his nails into the boy’s throat, and his grey lips curled in sadistic smile at the sight of fresh blood. “I don't know what I have to do to you to make you scream!”
The boy choked out a stuttering moan; he fought with his life not to scream for this disgusting creature.
“Yes!” Andrealphus dropped him to the floor, observing with a cold smile. "That's good enough."
The boy choked and coughed.
Kneeling before him, Andrealphus slammed him against the wall, forcing a ball of black fabric into the boy’s mouth.
The boy issued frantic, muffled cries, and squirmed, trying to climb to his feet.
The monster smashed him against the wall, fastening a cord around his head, securing the gag.
The boy fought him with all his strength, scrabbling to pull his arms away, beating him.
Andrealphus remained immovable. He belted the boy’s head against the floor with an elbow, and secured the knot in the cord. Standing up, he stomped his foot over the boy’s head, threatening to crush him if he dared to move, and bound his arms behind his back.
The boy’s face burned hot with rage. Tears of frustration rolled down his face.
Andrealphus pulled him to his feet, and lifted a crusty finger to skim the scratches on his neck for blood. He licked his finger and smirked.
The boy scowled in disgust.
“Open your eyes.” He slapped his cheek. “Now, maybe you’ll appreciate what happens when you defy me. It doesn’t stop with your punishment. I want you to understand, for every action against me that you take, there are grave and severe consequences for everyone.” He pointed sternly. “By the time I’m through with you, I want it indelibly impressed upon your mind that you shall never defy me. For your sake, and for the sake of those you wish to protect, runt. You’ll let me have my way, or you pay, everyone pays.” He jabbed a rotten nail under the boy’s chin and lifted his head. “The girl pays with interest. I do not tolerate interference. What I’m doing is bigger than you, bigger than anyone involved. You have no right to interfere with plans as grand as the centuries.”