Pandora's Redoubt

by James Axler

  "Reg or condensed?"

  "One of each."

  "Hot damn. Any more?"

  "Six or so."

  "Keep them coming!"

  A soft blastershot sounded from their left.

  Moving along the littered streets, Leviathan rolled over lumps and assorted junk, crushing everything underneath them. Vines shot out at crazy angles, the slim tendrils going through the iron grid to lash at the windows. But the resilient glass stopped any further invasion. Ryan gave them a touch of flame, and the killer leaves retreated.

  Another shot, softer than the others.

  "Everybody quiet!" Ryan ordered, killing the engines.

  Silence reigned, except for the soft rustling of the mutie plant all around them. There was another gunshot and the shattering of glass.

  "There!" Mildred shouted, pointing. "Seems to be coming from that furniture store by the vacant lot!" The yard was strewed with ancient wreckage and assorted rubbish completely unidentifiable.

  "A furniture store?" Dean asked, lugging over two more cans.

  "The second mistake," Ryan growled fiercely. "J.B., prep a satchel charge, the biggest you have. Set it for five minutes."

  "Can do. Diversion?"

  "Yeah. A furniture store means a loading dock big enough for Leviathan to get through to the cellar."

  "Cellar?" Dean queried, pausing in emptying an-other gas can into the access pipe.

  "That's where plants feed," Ryan reminded him grimly. "The roots."

  Ramming a timing pencil into a block of C-4, J.B. tied shut the canvas sack full of plastique and moved to the roof hatch. Cradling his hurt arm, Jak was there, the locking bolt already thrown.

  "Throw!" Jak shouted, as the tank lurched to the right and started into an ivy-infested alley.

  Flames washed over the craft once more and as they went into the alley, Doc flipped back the hatch and J.B. heaved out the satchel. But as quickly as Jak slammed shut the hatch again, a dozen vines wiggled in and struck out at anything near them. Boots and knives finished off the invaders.

  "Hellhounds, robot tanks, killer ivy." J.B. cursed, crushing a vine as if it were a cigarette butt. "Damn the day we ever opened that redoubt!"

  "A Pandora's box for sure," Doc said, skewering a vine and splitting it lengthwise. "But as with the Grecian myth, we still have hope."

  "And blasters."

  "There it is," Ryan said, trying not to shout his impatience over the sluggish advance of their craft. He could outwalk this bastard thing going uphill! A wooden gate barring the end of the alley offered no resistance. Relentlessly, he drove the tank straight through a heap of bones and bent motorcycles piled toward the rear of the store.

  Brick stairs led to a door, and alongside was an inclined ramp going to a loading dock, the three big doors made of hinged steel planks banded together with rivets. Pulsating waves of ivy coated everything.

  "Center door," Mildred said.

  Ryan headed for the middle as the twin 75 mm recoilless rifles spoke in unison, the shells detonating on the loading dock, blowing the sheet metal into rubbish. Mildred lowered the angle and fired again, blasting off the jagged metal strips that edged the entrance to the cellar. She knew their military tires were tough, but there was no sense asking for flats when speed was what they needed most. A few remaining strips of steel jutted or dangled from the smoking entranceway, but Ryan paid them no heed and plowed the juggernaut through. The headlights came on automatically as darkness engulfed the vehicle.

  The inside of the building was a jungle, vines as thick as cables festooning the walls and ceiling. More bones, hundreds of them, thousands, littered the leafy floor, and fat cocoons hung in clusters like bunches of grapes. A curtain of ivy formed a solid barrier across the room effectively hiding anything beyond the expanse of moving greenery.

  Dean poured the last canister of extra fuel into the pipe and screwed the cap on tight. "Done," he announced.

  Starring at the morass before them, something deep inside Ryan demanded that he lead the recce into the building. It took a force of will stronger than Ryan knew he had to counter that. He was the best driver, and already behind the wheel. It was his task to stay here, direct the rescue and protect Leviathan. What was the point of saving his lover if there was nothing for her to come back to but ivy-infested wreckage?

  Ignorant of the man's private struggle, J.B. took the M-4000 from the rack behind the driver's seat and walked to the port-side hatch. "This going to be nasty, people," he said softly. "We got to get hard, move fast."

  "John." Mildred spoke with feeling, pausing in the work of sliding fresh shells into the 75 mm rifles. Their gaze met, but neither spoke. Sometime words weren't enough.

  A boom shook the entire structure, smoke appearing over the leafy rooftop. The plants went mad, ripping apart rubbish and smashing random debris.

  "Go!" Ryan ordered, clearing a path ahead of the tank.

  "Welcome to hell," J.B. shouted, as he shoved open the door, firing the 12-gauge and the Uzi. Clumps of ivy were shredded into mulch, and he jumped to the soft floor.

  Two quick shots, followed by silence.

  "That's six," Dean said, joining the Armorer. "She's out. But why two at once?" -

  "To tell us she's not going anywhere else."

  Exhaling sharply, the boy understood, his combat face returning, making him appear years older. "Check. We better move."

  "Nyah, I say thee, hold, Pericles," Doc said, jumping to the ground, his arms full of fuel canisters. Dropping one at their feet, he tossed another deeper into the loading dock, and the next farther still.

  "What're you doing?" J.B. demanded to the elderly man. "Those are empty."

  "Aren't they?" Dean asked, furious for missing so many.

  Doc grinned, displaying his oddly perfect white teeth. "An, but how can the plants know that?"

  Sure enough, the ivy on the ground wiggled away, exposing bare concrete. Doc reappeared with more empties, and the three friends threw them in as far as they could. The plants went mad, damaging themselves to get away. The few spilled drops of gasoline on the spouts of the aluminum cans were more than sufficient to show that these were the same type of deadly containers used before.

  "I thought they would remember," Doc said, going back inside. "I shall get more!"

  The process was repeated and the curtain of green parted as if by magic. Beyond was a line of waiting humans. The men braced for an attack, but these weren't guards. Some were naked, a few in filthy rags. The group stood there, men, a woman and an infant child no more than a newborn, their heads and limbs oddly placed. Using the binocs, Mildred distorted her face in vile disgust. Ryan grabbed his binocs and noted the raw terror in their rolling eyes, the flecks of foam on pale lips. And where clothing didn't cover them, tendrils of the ivy were clearly visible lining their bodies, the roots embedded into the living flesh.

  "They're a shield!" Mildred shouted.

  "Probably thinks we won't kill our own kind," Ryan said without emotion. "Mistake three. By the looks of things, they're already dead. Jak, fire."

  Angling the big vented barrel forward, the teenager cut loose with the side-mounted .50-caliber machine gun, the heavy slugs from the Remington tearing the people into shreds. Their bodies jerked about madly, red blood splattering the leafy walls in a grisly spray.

  They could see that the filaments of the ivy reached everywhere inside the prisoners, extruding from every pore, every opening.

  "By the Three Kennedys," Doc gasped.

  "Not prisoners," Dean spit, pumping the Mossberg. "Puppets."

  "Find her," Ryan commanded over the external PA system. There was a tone in his voice none of them had ever heard before. "Find her!"

  Ryan's hands were white on the steering wheel as he put more fuel onto the writhing plants, scorching a path through the unholy puppets.

  Grabbing the last of the empty gas cans, J.B. and Doc were close behind as Dean took off. Ryan stared after them, as he sent a fresh spray
from the flamethrower across the ceiling of the dock as a protective umbrella. As the burning liquid flowed onto the cocoons, the pods burst open, spilling out desiccated bodies dried of every possible nutrient fluid. They blazed like seasoned cordwood.

  As the three friends passed the crumpled puppets, the headlights of Leviathan grew faint, but the conflagration gave them ample light to see. Warily, they proceeded deeper into the lush hell of the store. Abundant plants covered the floor, walls and ceiling, dainty reddish flowers decorating the thick growth. Broaching the parted curtain, they tossed more cans ahead of them and continued. The ivy whipped away.

  Reaching the interior, they could see there was no second or third level to the building; the floors had been removed and a great hole reached upward to the glass skylight. Below was a slanted pit in the floor. Without hesitation, they scrambled down the incline.

  "Roof and cellar," Doc noted, his sword slashing as steadily as a harvest reaper. "No sign of her clothes," J.B. said, which was neither good or bad. It meant she was still alive, or they weren't near her yet.

  Dean said nothing; keeping careful count of his shells. Once he got past the halfway mark, he would have to decide to keep going, or retreat. Neither sounded good.

  The three walked on into the leafy hell. Bones crunched underfoot, many of them fresh. More than once, vines tried to close off their avenue of escape, or drop from overhead. But the friends expected those ploys and their combined firepower blasted apart the killer plants. And the fuel cans kept a series of clear spots free from any leafy entanglements. Escape wasn't a problem yet.

  "It's aware we're here," J.B. said, resetting the glasses on his nose.

  Grunting with the effort, Doc tossed a fuel can ahead of them. It landed a few yards away on a pile of leaves, which quickly became bare floor.

  "That is it," he said, drawing the LeMat. "End of the line."

  J.B. glanced behind them, the faint headlights of the distant Leviathan and the burning plants giving off an unearthly illumination. Demonic shadows danced on the ivy, adding to the malevolent ambience.

  "Hate to say this," J.B. observed, "but if we can't see, we can't fight."

  "A little ways more," Dean insisted, stepping around a lump of equipment that resembled a U.S. Army portable flamethrower, the pressurized tanks broken and smashed to junk. They weren't the first in here.

  "To the last can," J.B. said, straining to see in the dim light. His imagination was running wild, seeing attacks from every direction. And the heat!

  "Yes," Doc wheezed, coughing from the smoke. "No farther."

  More cocoons were found, time reducing them to only tatters of fibrous material. Inside one was the rusting remains of what resembled military power armor, a skeleton grinning behind the Kevlar faceplate.

  "Ivy did that?" J.B. whispered, shocked.

  Dean whirled. "No!" he shouted, firing twice.

  Black bugs boiled out of the foliage, scuttling along the walls and ceilings, insects as big as a loaf of bread, and each wiggling on the end of a pulsatmg green vine.

  "Dark night!" J.B. yelled, his shotgun blasting apart the closest insects.

  The companions cut loose with their weapons, moving carefully over the vine-encrusted floor to form a defensive circle. Another wave of insects crawled into view, as a third descended the walls in sheets. Blasters discharged in every direction. J.B. used both of his grens to devastating effect, but more bugs advanced, endless waves, their pincers snapping a hideous cacophony.

  Then bright white light flooded the area, and Leviathan appeared at the top of the pit. As it crushed and scraped a path, the vehicle's heavy engines rumbled. It began plowing along the tunnel, an overhead stream of fire heralding its ponderous advance. Ivy and insects disintegrated under the barrage of antipersonnel rounds from the 75 mm recoilless rifles.

  Bracketed by pyrotechnic death, the three companions stood their ground and fought without pause until the insects unexpectedly closed their pincers and stopped fighting. The recce team killed dozens more until they realized the bugs had ceased to move. Then the ivy parted on the left wall and a mass of vines thrust out a human figure in tattered clothing.

  "Thank Gaia, it's you!" Krysty coughed, stumbling into the hazy light. "I was wrapped in some sort of cocoon and it just... let me go."

  "We won?" Dean asked, his face a mask of doubt. They were still in the womb, surrounded on every side. "It gave up?"

  "Mebbe," LB growled. "Or this is another trap." He grabbed the woman's arms, holding them tight. "Doc, check her!"

  Without hesitation, the old man ran his hands over her body. "I am sorry, my dear, but this search must be conducted." Doc managed to hide his embarrassment at the rude examination, especially since Krysty's clothing had been slashed to ribbons. However, regardless of his discomfort, their survival depended on the search.

  "She is clean," Doc stated in relief. "There is no ivy."

  J.B. lowered his weapons. "Good. Let's go."

  "I do apologize, madam," Doc added, offering Krysty his frock coat. "But if you had seen what we have.-"

  "I did," the redhead replied, wrapping the long garment around her shoulders. "Those.. .others are everywhere in here. If I hadn't already shot my last bullet, I would have used it on myself after seeing those poor bastards."

  "Our thoughts exactly," J.B. said, herding her toward Leviathan.

  Krysty paused. "Is there any chance we can help them?"

  J.B. shook his head.

  "Kill them?" she pleaded.

  "Good lady, perhaps we should discuss it in safer surroundings," Doc suggested, pointedly looking around.

  Understanding, she moved faster, placing her feet carefully amid the collection of brass cartridges that covered the floor.

  "Watch out," Dean cried, shoving the woman aside as a burning clump fell from the ceiling to land atop of one of the empty gas containers.

  Krysty jumped at the sight and started to run for Leviathan. The others followed in less haste, knowing there was no real danger of an explosion.

  The abandoned canister nosily expanded under the heat, and the ivy retracted farther. Then the cap banged off as the thin fumes inside cooked, but nothing else happened. The whole building full of ivy went deathly still, and the bugs scurried out of sight. In seconds, the humans were alone in the headlights of the tank.

  "Oh, hell," LB. whispered.

  In slow majesty, a misshapen figure began to rise from the Stygian blackness of the irregular hole in the floor, something so dark it was as if light falling into it was consumed. It was a blackness so great it was clearly visible, highlighted by the ebony expanse of the underground cavern.

  Scrambling from her seat, Mildred raced to reach the hatch.

  "Everybody, on the double," Ryan ordered calmly over the external PA system. "We've got company coming."

  Picking their way through the destruction, the friends rushed to comply. Mildred hastily threw the lock and shoved aside the door. The others piled in haphazardly.

  "In," Dean' said, slamming the hatch.

  After briefly checking to see that Krysty was alive, Ryan shoved the tank into reverse and pressed the pedal to the floor. The twin diesels roared as the huge vehicle lumbered backward through the burning jungle of the furniture store.

  Mildred threw the lock on the armored door and glanced out the front windshield. The gnarled thing in the pit was ascending steadily, and the bug-covered walls started to wildly chitter in frenzied discord, like a crowd cheering the arrival of its ruler. "The recoilless isn't going to do much damage to that thing," she stated bluntly. "And we're out of missiles."

  "We'll use what we got," Ryan said, pausing for a second as the Leviathan bounded over the line of corpses. "Mebbe everything at once will do the job."

  Buttoning the frock coat, Krysty turned. "J.B., give me a satchel charge."

  The Armorer spread his hands. "Used our last as a diversion to get past the plants."

  She pointed in the corner. "The
n what's that?"

  "Bag of grens."

  Crossing the bucking floor, Krysty grabbed the bag and glanced inside. "High explosive?"

  "Mixed."

  "Great. We got any more?"

  "No, that's the lot."

  "They'll have to do then," she said grimly.

  "Bag of grens won't stop that monster," J.B. stated, jerking a thumb.

  Way ahead of the others, Doc was already pulling down the access ladder to the roof hatch.

  "Oh, yes, it will," the woman said.

  She turned to Jak and held up a hand. "Cut me." The teenager furrowed his brow, then slashed out with a leaf-blade knife. Blood welled from the shallow gash across her palm reaching from heel to thumb. Smearing the blood over the bag, she tossed it to Doc. Making the catch, he reached inside and pulled the ring on a random gren, then flipped the bag out of the opening and slammed shut the hatch. It landed behind them on the soft ivy covering.

  The ebony creature was still coming out of its dank hole. The body seemed endless, as if the inside of a long tunnel had been made into living flesh, its black chitin shining like armor in the light of the burning dead. Its visage was a gnarled twisted mix of bug and ,man, if such a hellish combination was possible. Huge segmented eyes stared with hostile intent at the tank.

  "Payback time," Krysty said, staring back at the colossus.

  The thing almost stalked past the tiny parcel when the lumpy head gaped its irregular slash of a mouth just enough for an ivy-covered tongue to lick up the bloody morsel and swallow it whole.

  As Leviathan burst out of the greenery and onto the loading dock, the pulsating head of the nightmare suddenly bulged outward and burst apart like rotting fruit, the separating pieces spraying out streams of pale pink ichor. The body writhed in agony, black chitin peeling away as searing gouts of chemical hell blossomed out from the mottled flesh of its yawning gullet. The whole length of the sectioned body convulsed out of control, smashing walls and making bricks rain from the sides of the already weakened building. Violently split down the middle, the vivisected mütie limply slumped to the ground twice. A pupilless eye burst from the impact, as shrapnel holes in the other eye pumped out a river of pink that spread on the floor and seeped into the sewer grating.