Cascading Error:Critical: A Lovecraftian Technothriller (The Dossiers of Asset 108 Book 4)

by JM Guillen

  Can you use one of the SIG’s? I asked.

  I am well proficient in semi-automatic handguns, Michael. I also have the neural lacuna should we require it.

  Wyatt grinned. With your permission, Alpha, I think we should play gentle with these fellas. I’d like to find out a little information.

  What an excellent idea, Artisan. I glanced down at the business end of his weapon. I might know just what you have in mind. I’ll let you take point.

  Together, the three of us crept down the hallway.

  3

  We heard the hostiles long before we saw them.

  “[I think she ran back this way.]” The sharp whisper wasn’t nearly as covert as I would have wanted myself.

  The acoustics might have had something to do with it. As we progressed, the passageway had narrowed severely. Now it was barely wide enough for two men to walk abreast.

  Or perhaps one Wyatt Guthrie with a circus monkey.

  No. I cursed inwardly as I realized the insult I’d set myself up for. Luckily, no one else knew.

  “[I don’t think she ran anywhere.]” Ahead, around a slight bend, we saw the bobbing light of men with headlamps. “[I know I hit her. You saw the blood back there. It pooled along the wall but the splatters don’t look as if she got up and ran anywhere.]”

  “[Well, then, you explain it!]”

  “[I’ll explain it,]” a deeper voice grumbled. “[Facility Assets.]”

  “If she were a Facility Asset, we’d already be dead.”

  These men currently bear no Irrational signature, Alpha.

  Really? I frowned a touch.

  It is possible that these are a Vatican patrol or Italian police. They might even be the Swiss Guard.

  I’m gonna lay down a spike. Wyatt’s link felt slightly distracted, as it often did when he juggled numbers. I’ll pop it right here. A scarlet reticule appeared within my vision to indicate Wyatt’s target. It rested upon the wall in front of us, just before the hallway turned.

  Understood.

  Smart play’s to not get any closer than here ‘til I tell you.

  A second indicator, a thin yellow line, encircled the first and splayed out three meters from the place Wyatt intended to put the spike.

  Engaging Wraith. I toggled the packet as I sent the link and activated the Adept immediately after.

  I wasn’t certain what Wyatt had planned, but whatever it was, I wanted to be ready.

  Wyatt aimed the tangler down the passageway and struck one final key. WHUF!

  The spike buried deep in the ancient, white brick of the passageway.

  “[What was that?]” The end of the passageway suddenly lit up as all three men turned their light sources.

  “[Is that something in the wall?]” The deeper voice spoke again, suspicious.

  “[Probably just old masonry supports, I think.]” The third voice sounded in no way certain. “[Like rebar.]”

  “[Maybe you step up there and poke at the rebar.]”

  No response came, however the corner grew slightly brighter. A man’s shadow loomed large as he stepped in front of the others, dutifully headed to check out the wall.

  With a savage grin, Wyatt Guthrie struck a single key.

  The spike shone with a touch of eldritch green, some cast-off energy from whatever weirdness Wyatt had whipped up.

  “[What the fuck?]”

  I watched as the shadow stopped in place, taken aback.

  “Karl?” One of the other men queried. “[What is it?]”

  “[It… It’s glowing.]” The man must have taken a step back, because the shadow grew slightly smaller.

  “[Don’t be an idiot.]” The deeper voice radiated exasperation. “[It was just a reflection from your headlamp.]”

  “[Yeah, maybe…]” The shadow shook its head. “[Thing is, I don’t feel so…]”

  The shadow fell to the ground with a thump.

  “Karl?” That was the second man, not the deep-voiced one.

  I watched as again the corner grew bright, dimmed only by a shadow of the man who came closer. “[Oh God,] Karl, [are you—?]”

  The second man fell to the ground.

  Desflurane gas. I felt Wyatt’s glee through the link. You remember Stone came up with the idea.

  It’s one of his better ones, I acknowledged.

  Michael, I felt the worry in Anya’s link. Rationality shifting, one point sub-Rational. She paused. Now two.

  “[Swollaugh, the Bane-fire, I cry your name,]” the deep voiced man chanted in Turkish. “[You who have been named Elo-igl, the Douser, the Emptier, I beseech you.]”

  It’s them. I ground my teeth as I reached for a dampening grenade, almost unconsciously. Then, I realized I hadn’t picked up any Tabula Rasa or dampening grenades. I practically spat.

  They were some of my traditional picks, but with everything that had happened…

  I’d just forgotten.

  Fuck.

  “[Strike at those who would strike at me. Cut their manliness from them, rip at their art and virility.]”

  The Hidden Road? I felt Wyatt’s distraction again as he tapped keys.

  Yeah. Probably what the Facility calls Zealators. Not full cultists; they’re often used for muscle. Thing is—

  “What the fuck?” Wyatt’s question broke through the shadows. At the end of the hallway, his spike had taken on a brilliant, reddish glow.

  What now? Only rarely had I seen Wyatt’s spikes give off light at all. Was that new? Perhaps part of the Tangler B?

  I have no idea. His link sounded frantic. The spike isn’t responding!

  Another point, sub-Rational, Anya reported.

  Right before our eyes, Wyatt’s spike incandesced, brilliant white before it melted down the wall.

  Back! Wyatt actually stumbled back a step, his hands up to shield his face, as if he expected the thing to explode. His oculus shone blue, and I watched as a wild array of numerals exploded across its surface.

  “[What the fuck, indeed, gentlemen.]” The voice came from around the corner, somewhat jovial. “[Your kind has no power here. You are nothing before the might of the barbarous eighty-one.]”

  Is the desflurane cleared out? The last thing I wanted to do was sprint around the corner only to fall flat on my face.

  I’m certain it is. Wyatt’s link felt anything but certain. The spike transforms oxygen into desflurane, but the reason it works so quickly is because there’s oxygen already in the brain and lungs. Should be done, Hoss.

  ‘Should be’ or ‘certain’?

  “[Leave this place.]” I heard the savage glee in the man’s voice. “[Leave now or I shall show you a horror the likes of which has never stood beneath the sun.]”

  Are they always this arrogant and preachy?

  Yeah. I crept forward. One of the worst things about them.

  “[Or is this perhaps why you come? Do you seek secrets? Have you been lured by the promise of wonders?]”

  Wyatt, I’ll slip up to this corner. If I don’t pass out the moment I’m inside your yellow line, I’ll rush him while he rambles on.

  I’ll pull up behind you. I heard keys tapping. If I can lay down stasis behind the asshole, I will, and I’ll give you a marker.

  Standard. Got it. I crept closer to the line and tried to breathe normally. If passing out were inevitable, I could at least do it before I engaged in pitched combat.

  “[I have wonders.]” The tone became smug. “[They were not meant for you, but perhaps that is not for me to say.]”

  Something crashed against the wall directly in front of me.

  I leapt back from the shattered pottery, stunned by the unexpected development.

  A pot? Wyatt’s link sounded as confused as I felt. What the hell?

  I had no answer for him. Though as I stared at the broken pieces, I realized exactly what the man had thrown. The Turkish Purple Jade gave it away; small, violet stones polished smooth and inscribed with maddening glyphs.

  He had thrown one o
f the amphorae Gideon and I had discovered in the Pacific Northwest. He’d hurled it at the wall specifically to shatter the thing.

  Water began to pour from the pieces on the ground.

  This made no Rational sense; the amphora hadn’t been full of water. Yet, a font sprung from the ground amidst the ruins of the pottery and formed a rapidly growing puddle on the floor… that began to glow azure blue. The color rioted in my head, searing my eyes, lacerating my brain.

  Rationality is spiking, Michael! I heard the trace of fear in Anya’s voice that only came when something truly surprised her. It’s already seven points super-Rational! Eight!

  I tore my gaze from the sapphire depths.

  Fuck this. I’m in.

  I sprinted around the corner and leaped wide over the small pond. Approximately three meters in front of me stood the Zealator.

  The man’s head had been shaved completely bald, and he stood tall, with some of the darkest skin I’d ever seen. His suit was something I might have felt comfortable trying on, and in his hand he held a SIG.

  A single rune burned in his forehead, a darkling flame that cast a diadem of shadowed power around his brow.

  “[Come, Delving One. Come and let these bear witness to the wonder of another age!]”

  The man’s eyes burned fever bright, mad. Their gaze burned completely through me to whatever bullshit he hoped to pull off. His empty, left hand clenched at the nothing in the air.

  His eyes didn’t even flicker toward me as I closed on him.

  Nine points super-Rational, Alpha!

  The smell of brine and rotten seawater filled the room. Something gurgled behind me, the sound a man might make when he chokes to death on his own vomit.

  I stepped up to the Zealator, entirely unseen, took a moment to aim my disruptor squarely between his eyes, and fired.

  One shot.

  Kinetic force punched through the man’s skull and out the back. For a moment he had the most surprised expression upon his face.

  Until his corpse fell to the floor.

  “Bishop!” The panic in Wyatt’s tone caught my immediate attention. “We have a problem!”

  I spun, and took a step back.

  For a moment, I couldn’t make sense of what I saw.

  The amphora had been far too small for the amount of liquid pooled around it. Most of its shattered pieces had sunk into the luminous puddle, which took up the entire corner.

  That water appeared greasy, brackish, under the eldritch glow. Even with the optics setting of my Crown, I couldn’t see within it. When I tried, the uncanny colors that glinted on its surface, pierced my gaze and speared into my brain.

  I winced against the onslaught of agonizing color.

  The thing that had caught Wyatt’s attention had powerful, sinewy arms that dragged its body forth from the pool.

  Its inhuman limbs scrabbled against the floor stones and pulled a flabby mass from the murky pool. A faint, sickly-green tint colored much of its skin, although its underside glinted, sickly pale. The amphibious flesh appeared as if it had never seen the light of the sun.

  Flat black alien eyes stared up at me. That emotionless, uncanny gaze had seen things no human had ever beheld.

  What the fuck? Wyatt’s link came as a mixture of awe and disgust. Look at its back!

  I paid him no attention. I did not peer at the creature or try to figure out the unholy biology of the thing. I’d already seen it. Gideon and I had fought one in Washington, where it had attempted to spread pestilence through its poisonous ichor.

  I whirled both disruptor pistols toward the amphibian, firing on the move.

  “Yeeerrrrup!” It croaked and leaped at me with impossible speed.

  My shots tore into the water it’d just left, and before I knew it, the monstrosity had borne me to the ground.

  Shit! The impossibility of the situation dawned on me as I dropped my guns.

  Even though I’d been cloaked beneath the Wraith, Froggy here had somehow known exactly where I stood.

  Clawed, webbed fingers reached for my throat.

  Um, Wyatt?

  There’s more, Hoss. Even as I received the link, I heard the tangler fire off two more spikes: WHUF, WHUF.

  Fine.

  “Yeeerrrrup! Garrrrrr.” My opponent bore down even harder, and its face came disgustingly close to my own.

  Its breath held a revolting salt-brine scent, and the dozens of tiny, sliver-teeth in its mouth terrified me more than a bit. It drooled, and yellow mucus ran from between its teeth.

  I couldn’t help but worry that its saliva was the source of the virulent disease.

  “Anya!” I heard Wyatt yell from somewhere impossibly far away.

  I began to twist to my left with the thought that perhaps I could slip myself out from beneath the creature.

  Yet the slimy aberration held tighter, only a slight tremor of effort to its sinewy arms. As I attempted to wriggle my way free, it lowered its face to mine and sank those vicious little teeth into my neck.

  I screamed, and the pain burned like savage fire.

  Rachel, we’re gonna need you back here! Wyatt linked all of us.

  Copy that, Artisan, Rachel replied, though her link felt vastly distant.

  “Fuck!” I cried in pain as Mr. Toad pulled its head back and tore away a chunk of my flesh.

  I felt the warmth of my blood gush out, and my veins burned.

  The toad-strosity reared above me, and I saw its face matted with crimson.

  Beautiful. I couldn’t help but feel a bit entranced at the melodious pattern of scarlet across the monstrous, frog-like face. Secrets had been written in the blood there, lore the likes of which mankind had never known.

  Get back, you little shit! I felt the anger in Wyatt’s link. WHUF!

  Bishop, you’re close to losing it; I’m regulating, Rachel warned. Your pulse has skyrocketed and… What’s that in your blood?

  As I fought for my very life, I didn’t exactly have the focus to respond. Instead, I kicked upward and caught the creature in its gut.

  Its eyes widened in surprise.

  Gleeful, I wrested it to my left and smashed its back against the ancient wall.

  “Grrrp!” it cried as clawed hands scrabbled for me. It thrashed its head forward and attempted to sink teeth into my shoulder again.

  I twisted.

  “Asshole!” I grunted and prepared to smash the aberration against the wall again. I’d turned to my left in an attempt to get all the leverage I could when I saw them.

  Hundreds, maybe thousands, of tiny, squiggling worms burst from the frog-thing’s back.

  I gaped in disgust and horror as the wet, black things writhed free from the honeycomb of orifices within the amphibian’s skin.

  What the fuck?

  No, not worms. They appeared to be tadpoles—grotesque things the size of my pinky finger.

  The parent’s bubble wrap-like back pulsed and erupted dark streams. They swam through the air, squirming and threshing as they aimed straight for my face.

  “Oh… Oh fuck, no!” I screamed, my voice high-pitched. As I frantically attempted to scurry free from the creature’s grip, I heard a WHOMP from somewhere nearby.

  One of Wyatt’s stasis fields. I wished he would shoot one at me, even if it meant he imprisoned me beneath it. Anything would be better than those squirming little larvae, squiggling through the air toward my face.

  “GrrrrruG.” The amphibian gurgled and hissed as it shoved me back down to the floor. The inhuman mouth opened wide, and it slavered yellow froth as it leaned forward to take a bite out of my cheek and ear. It darted down, and its needle mouth snapped shut but caught only my tactical jacket.

  As Mama Frog shook me by the lapels, the first of the wriggling horrors lit upon my skin. It writhed there and left a slimy trail on my cheek that began to buzz alarmingly.

  Another joined it.

  They began to crawl toward my nose and mouth.

  Inside me! Wyatt’s link
screeched into my Crown, and I felt the sensation of the spawn slide into his nose. Oh, fuck me, it’s—!

  Michael! Remain still! The loud click of a gun punctuated Anya’s link.

  In all honestly, I scarcely understood her words. I thrashed beneath the amphibious abhorrence, as panic and terror burned in my blood.

  If only Rachel hadn’t driven back the astral aberration which haunted me. Even possession by that bloodthirsty beast would be better than this.

  One of the tadpoles, black as the inhuman eye of its parent, squirmed its way into my nose. The wetness, the visceral sensation of it oozing its way into my body, nearly drove me mad.

  Three explosions.

  Four more followed immediately after.

  The creature on top of me screamed, a gurgling cry that vomited forth blood and yellow bile.

  It lurched once and fell still.

  The small cloud of black larvae went absolutely wild. They frenzied around me, and I rolled to one side.

  I frantically covered my eyes and ears as I fought the urge to scream.

  To your left, Michael! Anya’s link felt laced with just a touch of panic. Roll to your left!

  Without thought, without any reason at all, I did exactly as she said. I kept my mouth, nose, and ears covered as well, even though I already felt one of the tiny horrors squirm its way into my sinuses.

  Abruptly, I fell.

  4

  Got him. The soft, accented curl of Sophia’s link blossomed in my mind. You’re next, Preceptor.

  “It’s inside me!” I sat up and frantically pressed at my cheek, pawing where I felt the parasite squirm in my flesh. My skin buzzed, going numb under my palm.

  “Okay. It’ll be okay.” Rachel stepped over to me and placed her palm flat against my arm. I heard the pressurized hiss as the stinger injected me with some of her specialized mecha.

  “No it’s not!” I wanted to tear my own skin open, wanted to cut into my face and pull the thing out. I could feel it, right next to my nose, as it squirmed up toward my eye and somehow deeper into my face.

  “Chill, Bishop. These mecha will incapacitate the creatures. I’ll also stop the bleeding from your shoulder until I can truly tend to it.”