The Black

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The Black Page 20

by Neil Mosspark


  They were searching for them. Dave stood still for a moment and listened. Clattering and grunting surrounded him. The zealots must have seen them when they were running and followed them into the cloud.

  His hand reached for the blade on his hip, but the handle was not there. Looking at the barely visible ground, he suppressed a cough as he realized it had been lost when he fell.

  Dave stifled another cough, and he stepped back to where he thought he had fallen. Dust was gathering heavy on the ground now like a fresh layer of snow, and he could see his footprints. Others crisscrossed his own. Bare feet of varying sizes.

  His heart hammered in his chest.

  Turning, he heard a shuffle nearby, and a figure disappeared into the wall of silt, walking away from him. Stepping backward, he bumped into a glass wall of windows. The reflective material showed him covered in grey dust. His skin, hair, and clothes were all painted with the same gray brush.

  Sliding along the window, he moved toward any entry point that would allow him to escape the choking air.

  His hands slid around the handle of the lobby door, and he quickly pulled it open, entering into the first of two sets of doors. Not satisfied with still standing near the doors, he burst through into the lobby, coughing fitfully.

  A hand grabbed his back, and midcough he lashed out, narrowly missing Genie’s face with a left jab. Serif appeared, pulling him away.

  “There is a back way out. Come this way.” Serif guided his friend.

  Dave looked back, and figures bumped against the one-way glass, inching along. They would find the door soon and come to investigate.

  Running his hands through his hair, he brushed the dust away and patted it from his clothes. His lungs felt like someone had used a cheese grater on them and ached with each breath.

  Moving through the lobby, Serif guided him toward the back and then through a broken glass door near an empty pool. They finally stepped out the fire exit into a small parking lot. The tires of the cars were flat, rotten away, and most of the metal bodies were bubbled and flaked with rust.

  Serif waved him on and began to jog from car to car, keeping low as he made his way to the alley across the parking lot. The thick air was clearer here, and with each block that they ran, it became easier and easier to breathe.

  “We need to see if it worked,” Dave said. “We need to find a place to look at the building.”

  Serif nodded and pointed to a nearby restaurant. A patio on the top floor would be a vantage point from where they could look down the street toward the settling dust cloud.

  Genie pushed inward, opening the hanging wooden door of the structure and climbing the stairs. She cleared the way for Serif, with Dave bringing up the rear.

  Crouching low, they peered out the empty doorway to the top deck and the street beyond. A billow of particulate matter still hung in the motionless air, suspended and clinging to the block where the building had once been.

  Over the course of an hour, they watched it begin to settle, falling to the street. It continued to cake everything with layers of grey silt, but the dying light was obscuring their view.

  “We will likely be spending the night here,” Serif told the group. “We will take watch in groups.

  “At least most of them were in the building when it fell,” Dave stated.

  “That was the best thing that has ever happened to the city.” Serif smiled. “You cannot understand how safe that makes the world now. It will take another hundred years for the phalanx to build up another army like that. We can hunt the rest of the stragglers and remove them one by one. We outnumber them now.”

  “Well, I don’t think the curtain has fallen. So that’s probably the best scenario,” Dave admitted glumly.

  “But we did not die.” Serif patted his friend on the shoulder, raising a plume of dust.

  “Yeah, that’s a bonus.”

  As the light fell, Dave leaned back in the dark against the banister and wondered what their next move would be. If the core remained active, maybe it hadn’t discharged or shut down.

  A fitful sleep took him, and he constantly woke, listening for movement in the dark. The gentle rise and fall of people sleeping met his ears each time. After hours of meandering between sleep and waking fits, dawn broke.

  Light streamed through the windows of the restaurant’s top floor. Casting long shadows, the white light burned inward.

  Dave blinked, holding his hand up. A thin line of bright light shone out from where the building used to stand. In its place was a spire of dark blue metal. Dave recognized it as the cylindrical shape of the ship, but now free of the encased building.

  Its top end was suspended and hanging, its structure bent, and angular. A fissure along the upper edge streamed light from the core out across the city like a lighthouse. The entire structure was hovering in the air. Levitating.

  “Get up. Look!” Dave hissed. Serif and Genie rolled over and peered with groggy eyes at the sight.

  A moment later there was movement, and the light grew. A distant groan of tearing metal met their ears seconds later. It again lifted slightly, dragged by the partially exposed core. The ship’s bulk swung like a pendulum. The end of the ship peeled back, and the body of it fell away from the core, raising another dust plume as it fell, landing like a dying caterpillar, flat against the ground.

  As the thunder crossed the distance, Dave watched as the core began to rise, slowly building in brightness. Spectres of light evaporated off its surface and rose like smoke, spiralling. Lightning arced, discharging against nearby buildings, occasionally at first, then building to a constant strobing. The air around them seemed drawn toward it in a growing wind.

  The colour changed from a light blue to a swirling mass of orange as the sphere began to expand rapidly.

  “Get away from the windows!” Dave yelled, and the trio raced aside to find a safe cover.

  A thunderous clap detonated over the city, and the air compressed, sending debris flying into the small building. Glass shattered, and the aged tables and chairs evaporated into splinters. The small building groaned, and the floor under the men dropped away, collapsing into darkness.

  Chapter 27

  Dave woke to feel the wooden beam across his chest, crushing the air from his lungs. His hands pressed against it, releasing some of the pressure, despite his shoulders’ objection. He pushed and lifted and fought through the rubble covering him, squeezing between the splintered wood to escape the pressure.

  Movement and groans could be heard from him.

  His arm burst through a hole into the darkness above, and the smell of burning caught his nose. Smoke wafted by on the wind. Panicking, he punched against the dry-rotted plywood barrier and felt it splinter. Driving his arm into the confined space, he let loose again, and the crack lengthened. Heaving, he balled his body into a crouch under the sheet and pressed upward with his legs. The tearing wood groaned and flaked away as he emerged into the open air.

  “Serif!” he called out, standing in the hole he had opened.

  “Over here!” the man’s voice shouted loudly. Dave turned and could see him pinned against the remnants of a chimney with wood and materials across his legs.

  Dave plucked himself from the hole and scrambled over what remained of the roof. As he moved, he realized that the building they had been in was not much more than a debris field less than a few feet from the ground now.

  The dim light illuminated Serif, showing that thick splinters of wood were protruding from his arm.

  “You look like you’re hurt,” Dave pointed out.

  “I’m okay, but my legs are stuck. Get me out so we can find the others.”

  The foot-wide beam lay across Serif’s upper legs and on either side was piled shingle-covered plywood, pinning it down.

  Flipping the heavy material off the ends, Dave tried to lighten the load, working quickly in the weak light.

  After a few minutes of shifting material, Genie rose from the debris field, nur
sing her arm. Crusted blood covered the side of her head, and she stumbled toward the pair. Even though injured, she lent a hand moving wood planks off the beam in order to lighten it.

  “Let’s try to lift it.” Dave looped his arms under the beam and braced his legs.

  “On three… one… two…”

  They heaved upward, and the wood shifted. Serif slid his legs clear and rolled to the side. Once clear they dropped it back down the few inches they had raised it.

  “I think my leg’s broken,” Serif said, wincing. His left foot was tilted outward and lay flat against the ground.

  “Yeah, that doesn’t look so good,” Dave said.

  Genie shook her head and made a breaking motion with her hands.

  A clicking behind Dave made him turn as the figure of a young woman emerged from the shadows. Her jaw was clacking incessantly as her head pointed toward the sky.

  “Here, before she tells the others!” Serif pulled his blade from the scabbard, handing it to Dave.

  Dave grasped the handle and scrambled across the flattened roof. He raised his arm and drew the steel back in a killing blow. The desiccated face of the woman snapped forward, clenching its jaw, waiting for the attack.

  Dave swung hard, and she dodged under the swing. His weight carried him forward, and she side-checked him. His feet stumbled and caught on the uneven surface. He moved the blade to the side, avoiding landing on its edge but succeeding in dragging his face along the grey shingles of the roof. Burning pain erupted from his forehead and cheekbones.

  The woman struck him from behind, hitting him square in the back with her fists, hissing through her teeth with each rapid blow. They followed in succession, and he tried to crawl away, feeling ribs crack and break as he moved. She trailed him. Dave could hear more clatters of teeth around him. Moving away from Serif, he wondered if he would buy Genie enough time to get Serif to safety.

  The dust cloud around them shifted in the wind, and sunlight shone down. The woman screamed in pain.

  Dave took advantage of the moment to roll onto his back and raise the blade to defend himself.

  The mummified body stood, smouldering. She staggered for a moment. Above them the sun beat down, cooking the spores growing in her skin with its UV light. Confused, she stumbled for a few steps before crashing to the ground. Ethereal flakes of her skin floated away on the air.

  The moment of sunlight faded as the wind brought more dust, blowing over them and obscuring the sky.

  Movement shifted behind Dave, and he threw himself upward to a standing position, knowing that if he were knocked down again, he would not have another opportunity to rise.

  Around him out of the dust cloud came the horde, running from across the street, their jaws clacking and hissing. Dave had been too late to stop her from transmitting where they were.

  Turning, Dave looked at Serif. “Run!” Genie immediately grabbed Serif and fought to drag him away. Serif objected, but with a broken leg and impaled arm, he could no more run than fight her.

  “This is it then…” Dave muttered, stepping off the pile of debris and onto flat ground. He brandished the makeshift sword, readying himself for the attack.

  His arm swung wide as he chopped down the first unarmed zealot across the neck and chest. The body clattered to the ground, thrashing.

  A thinner naked figure charged at Dave from the left, and he impaled the man on the blade. Dave could feel the ribs grate along the steel as he let the attacker’s falling weight pull from the blade.

  The dust cloud around them darkened, thickening on the wind.

  The rest of the horde slowed, stopping just out of reach, savouring the kill. They hissed and clacked their teeth.

  “You did thisss!” They all spoke through gritted teeth in unison, each raising an arm to point at the obscured sky. Above, the pale sun fought through the billowing dust cloud.

  Dave could see their dry, sunken faces turn back to him and jaws alternate between clattering and clamping shut in a choreographed sequence. He hoped that his friends had escaped away from what was to come next.

  Dave felt the light rise for a moment as the grit in the air thinned out slightly. “Why, didn’t you want the curtain to fall?”

  Their heads shook violently, and teeth gritted once again. “We needs to grow the hive.”

  “It seems like you killed a lot of people,” Dave stalled, pointing the blade at them. He thought about Tony, the girl, the countless men and women who had sacrificed themselves to get him here.

  “Ssssaved… not dead… part of usssss,” the mass of clenched teeth hissed back.

  “You spent the last hundred years keeping these people in fear.”

  “The queen is strong. You are sssimple… weak.”

  Dave stepped forward. “These folks deserve better. Your time is up.”

  “No… time isss up for you…” Crooked fingers pointed at him.

  He estimated that there were about forty of them when they rushed. A wall of bodies. Leathery skin and skeleton bodies crowded forth. His arm swung and chopped. His feet shuffled backward with each swing, trying to buy room.

  Hands clutched at him, and he lashed out with bruised knuckles, but the ocean of bodies flowed over him, knocking him down, pinning him, crushing the air out. They piled onto his arms and legs.

  “You will ssseee,” they hissed, clamping onto his limbs. The weight spilled off his chest, and hands grabbed his head. Fingers pulled at his clothes, peeling away his shirt. Fighting, he felt the vise-like grip of the horde.

  A figure stood above him, ancient and shrivelled. Its naked grey female body was almost androgynous wrapped in its desiccated skin. The putrid smell of them made Dave want to retch.

  “You will be one of ussss….” the masses hissed.

  The figure stood over him, straddling his pinned body as he struggled. The crude tube of dust was being unwrapped.

  “Yesss!” they said in unison. Their eyes staring at the rod filled with powder.

  The light around them rose. Dave felt the warmth of the sun blaze across his face. The daylight enveloped the figure, and the zealot’s upper body, including the tube, sparked into flame. It screamed as its skin burned, sending sparks up in a fashion that reminded Dave of paper burning. The body slumped, landing on piles of writhing zealots.

  Around him, the group enveloped in light stank of a mix of rotting flesh and ash. Swirling paths of sparks rose from them. Faces filled with surprise and horror before succumbing to the burning light.

  Dave stood, picking up Serif’s blade, and whirled, chopping at any of the remaining zealots that stood in any partial shade. His blows found their mark on unflinching bodies. After working through the last of the stunned creatures, he spun, searching for others, pressing his advantage.

  Soon the sun faded, obscured, once again leaving Dave standing amid the pile of dismembered bodies, still sparking from the flux of energy.

  The gentle breeze blew across the open ground, and he picked his way over the burned, headless bodies toward where Serif and his helper had been.

  Neither of them were near the stone fireplace.

  “Serif!” Dave called out, jogging into the street. The breeze was cold against the abrasions on his face.

  “Over here,” came a voice from a nearby stairwell. Genie had dragged him down into the darkness of a nearby subway entrance in an effort to bottleneck any attackers.

  “How many are following?” Serif asked, trying to stand tall.

  “I think I got all of them…”

  Genie’s eyebrow raised, and she lifted multiple fingers.

  “How? There were too many?”

  “I don’t think they like the sun.” Dave smiled. He pointed up at the blue sky. A midday sun blazed over them. “The field is down.”

  Chapter 28

  Dave finished rewrapping the splint on Serif’s leg. “You need to stop trying to use it. The leg is going to take some time to heal.”

  “I dislike being carted arou
nd like an invalid.” Serif pointed to the nearby metal wheelbarrow filled with aging blankets. The two had been transporting Serif on their backs for most of the day following the fall of the curtain. It had been good fortune to come across a small garden centre and even better luck to find a fully metal wheelbarrow with a solid rubber tire. It was aged but had held together so far.

  “We can carry you again if you like?”

  The tall man thought about it for a moment, but the indignity seemed worse than being rolled along.

  “It’s just till we get near home.” Serif rolled his eyes.

  They had descended the raised plateau around the city near the opposite side of the wall they had climbed. It had been quick travelling on the streets devoid of zealots. Occasionally they would see movement in the darkness and would skirt that block, but no attacks during the daylight meant an easy passage.

  “In you get,” Dave ordered, lifting the handles. Serif picked himself up on his hands and the good leg and hopped over before easing in.

  “Please watch for rocks; my leg aches,” Serif asked quietly.

  Genie patted him sympathetically on the shoulder.

  “No problem.” Dave tilted the handles down, scooping up the man, and they continued off the concrete and down the hill, onto the purple soil. The compact dry soil was almost as perfect for movement as the aging asphalt at the top of the hill.

  The wall to their right was comprised of the white crystalline structure they had climbed via the scaffolding. With each step down the slope, the wall grew taller and taller. Eventually, they rounded the base and began cutting across the open plains. The depression of the gravity wells still dotted the landscape, and they weaved between them.

  Near the end of the day they stopped for a break, and Dave stood next to a heavy. His eye identified a small stone the size of a golf ball at his feet, and out of curiosity, he bent down to pick the purple rock. He tossed it in his hand at first, gauging the weight, then in a smooth motion threw it across the small crater.

  The stone sailed out of his hand in a perfect arc, across the expanse to land on the far side before rolling down the interior slope, stopping along the way.

 

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