Station

by Jarrett Brandon Early

  Unfortunately, only about fifty residents were wielding Lester's creations. Where they didn't have that advantage, the Risers were decidedly winning. Hadder winced as a familiar Riser woman tore the right eye from Star, the first resident other than Miles to welcome him to the city. Speaking of Miles, Hadder watched as the traitor-singer hid behind the Caesar Tiberius, jabbing out at Setters with a long halberd from the safety of the creature's immense shadow.

  Elsewhere, Setters fought bravely, swelling Hadder's heart with pride. McKintosh Reed fought off a quartet of Risers with a fury. He struck out against the two combatants facing him with two machetes while the Risers to his left and right dealt with McKintosh's whirling dreadlocks, each one tipped with a small knife. McKintosh took the hand from one Riser with a machete while simultaneously taking spiked knuckles to his shoulder from the other. He fell back, his dreadlocks keeping the other two at bay, the blade falling from his injured left arm. In a release of fury, McKintosh shot forward, driving his remaining machete deep into the shoulder of the spike-knuckled Riser. As the Riser fell, McKintosh was pulled down, his lone blade stuck in the man's clavicle. The Risers pounced on the grounded resident, one sending a thin sword through McKintosh's back while the other repeatedly kicked his sides with edged boots. McKintosh spat blood onto the lifeless face of the Riser beneath him before he, too, dropped dead. The attacking Risers both leaned down, screaming profanities at the deceased Setter, but quieted suddenly as two dreadlocks leaped up from their owner's corpse, taking both men through the throat.

  Hadder fought through the crowd, his sword shattering Riser weapons, stealing arms from torsos, and fertilizing the soft ground with Riser innards. He passed the Caesar Titus, who, although teetering on one leg, battered Risers with his frightening battle-hammer. Further north, an area had opened up where the albino twins Vespa and Vitellius teamed up against their fellow Caesar Otho. The ground shook as the titans went at each other, Otho narrowly missing the traitors with his double-headed ax. But as impressively as Otho fought, he was no match for the twins, who moved with practiced synchronization, each wielding a matching glaive that allowed them to strike from a distance, rendering Otho's ax ineffective. Otho moved forward without fear, trying to get inside those demon spears, but was eventually caught in the side by Vespa. Otho clutched his wound, and it was all the opening that Vitellius needed to slip his own glaive between the loyal Caesar's ribs, pushing down the pole to drive the blade up and into Otho's gigantic heart. Otho fell face-first into the grass, and the twins moved on quickly, cutting a swath through the Setter lines.

  As Hadder reengaged in the center of the melee, he was bleeding from a dozen wounds, although none of them incapacitating. He felt no pain as the Rage coursed through him, driving his body faster, strengthening each blow. Hadder batted away a trident aimed for his stomach, then carved a path through the Riser's face on the backswing, taking out both eyes in the process. Feeling danger to his left, he spun without thinking, narrowly avoiding becoming split in two by a vicious sickle. The Riser swinging the blade smiled, his face studded with metal and his eyes tattooed entirely black. He attacked again, and Hadder leaped back, again moving just out of the curved blade's path. Hadder moved in as the weapon passed. The Riser flipped the handle over and regripped for a backswing attempt. Hadder, inside now, blocked the backswing with a right front kick while bringing his sword down atop his foe's head, which split down the middle like a melon.

  A scream from behind Hadder saved his life, forcing him to react by diving to his left. Despite the fast movement, a long blade caught Hadder in his right side, neatly slicing through his cut-resistant clothing and ripping open a deep wound that showed off the white of his ribs. Hadder quickly rolled onto his back on the ground, bringing his right sword arm up to defend while covering his injured side with his left. Hadder cursed under his breath as the Riser captain Wagner stared down at him, brown teeth showing between metal tusks. No insulting words or cute sayings were delivered as Wagner began stabbing down with his long saber. Hadder knocked the first blow out wide to his left, and the second was backhanded to the right, although it still nicked his shoulder, adding to Hadder's laundry list of wounds. Hadder knew that Wagner would adjust; that one of the next few strikes would find a vital organ. In desperation, his left hand felt around the soft grass, hoping to grab dirt, pebbles, or anything else which could be thrown in the bastard Riser's eyes. His hand found nothing. It was time to die.

  Wagner came on again, both hands on the pommel of his sword to resist deflection, determined to drive the saber through the despised Marlin Hadder's heart. As Wagner started his downward thrust, two giant dark orange hands appeared from the red mist, reaching down from above to grasp a metal tusk in each hand. With a grunt and jerk, the tusks were ripped from Wagner as the man screamed. The metal inserts each took one half of the Riser's jaw with them as they were removed and thrown across the Grasslands. Wagner fell to his knees, a gurgling cry caught in his throat as his tongue hung in midair like red rope licorice. Ignoring the pain in his side, Hadder pushed off with his left arm, propelling himself forward, bringing his samurai sword around to cleave the captain cleanly through the neck. Wagner's head sat motionless for a moment before falling forward and rolling to a stop between Hadder's legs.

  Cal offered an oversized hand to Hadder, helping him to his feet. "That's two times you've saved my life," Hadder said to the Caesar.

  "Father Rott's orders," was all that Cal said before rejoining the battle, his twin swords leading the way.

  Hadder looked across the fighting once more, the Rage working hard to overcome pain and exhaustion. Although the Setters were fighting admirably, felling at least one Riser for every Setter that was killed, the numbers were simply becoming too much. Yasmin Dash performed a dance of death, spinning through the Riser ranks, her now-bladed wings out wide, carving up enemies as she twisted and rolled. A knife soared from the crowd around her and managed to miss her twirling wings, burying itself to the hilt between the beautiful woman's shoulder blades. Yasmin arched her back in pain, and three Risers moved in like lightning, driving metal though her neck, chest, and stomach.

  Elsewhere, every Setter seemed to be fighting at least two Risers, a disadvantage even seasoned warriors would have a hard time overcoming. Friends died wherever Hadder looked. Monty the Mod floated just over the battle on his light disc, striking down at Risers with the Ophidian, which was no longer dispensing psychoactive smoke but fast-acting poison through its curved fangs. Riser faces swelled up like balloons when they were bitten, cutting off air passages and leaving suffocated bodies dead on the ground. Monty celebrated one such successful strike before a spear thrown by the unfaithful Caesar Tiberius caught him in the chest and drove him from his disc. Monty disappeared into the crowd of Risers below, never to be seen again.

  Hadder's body began to betray him as blood continued to leach from his multiple wounds. Stumbling his way towards Glen, whose mace was thick with Riser flesh as he faced off with three Risers, Hadder tripped on something and fell hard. Looking back as he rose, he found both Helen and Nestra butchered on the ground, holding each other in a death embrace. Hadder shook off the disturbing image and limped towards his friend, who still managed to swing his weapon like a madman, holding the Risers' attentions. Hadder slipped in behind Glen's combatants, driving his sword through the back of one and taking the arm of another before anyone even knew he was there. Glen took the final Riser in the face with his mace as the man stared at Hadder in surprise.

  "How you holding up, brother," asked Glen.

  "I don't know how much more I have in me."

  "Me neither. But we've had a good showing, no?"

  "Absolutely."

  "Then let's finish strong, shall we?"

  "Absolutely."

  "See you on the other side." And with that, Marlin Hadder's friend Glen waded back into the fray. It was the last time Hadder would see him.

  An especially loud fracas caught Hadder's
attention towards the edge of the battle. Lester Midnight faced off with six Risers, his scimitar dancing in the air, blocking a sword here, taking a finger there, sending a knife wide here, removing the top half of a Riser head there. By the time Hadder got there, Lester had narrowed it down to four Risers. One peeled off to face Hadder while the others continued to wear down Station's most notorious artist.

  The Riser woman with the bladed whip cracked her weapon towards Hadder, testing the distance. With very little energy remaining, Hadder disregarded any strategies that required sudden dives or quick dodges. He was just going to have to take one to give one and hope that he gave better. Remembering what the Riser woman did to Star, Hadder baited his foe, dropping his sword low to the right, with no chance to parry the blinding strike. The woman screamed in triumph, showing fangs, and cracked the whip in Hadder's direction. The whip flew true, as Hadder knew it would, heading straight for his left eye. Anticipating the move, Hadder's left hand was up, palm out, even before the Riser completed her arm movement. The blade drove into Hadder's palm and stuck. Using the pain to fuel the Rage, Hadder circled his wrist around the whip and pulled forward suddenly, catching the woman off-guard before she could release her weapon. She stumbled forward, no defense in place, and met Hadder's samurai sword with her head, which fell with a thud to the crimson ground.

  Hadder turned back to where Lester was fighting and found the man lying on the ground, four Risers dead around him and another hovering above him, poised for a killing thrust. Hadder cut the Riser in half from right shoulder to left hip and chuckled darkly as the top half slid from the bottom. The laugh quickly stopped, however, when he saw Lester on the ground. He dropped to his knees next to the artist, whose guts were spilled out onto the grass next to him.

  Lester smiled as he recognized Hadder. "So good of you to come, darling. You're the only one to attend my funeral."

  Hadder began to choke up, pushed it down. "You're going to be fine, Lester."

  "Lying doesn't become you, darling. Just tell me this. How does it look?"

  Hadder looked down at his strangest friend's entrails, a sticky mound of red and pink, glistening curves catching the rays of the Solay, sending starlight back into the air. "It looks beautiful, Lester. A true work of art."

  Lester's smile widened, his eyes now looking at something far past Hadder, at something more beautiful than Hadder could ever imagine. "Ahh, thank you, darling. That's all I ever wanted." And with that, Lester Midnight died.

  Hadder spun away from his friend, sat on his backside as hell played out around him. Setter blood was spilled across the battlefield, and even the Caesars were beginning to fall. Hadder watched as Jules was piled on by ten Risers with long spears, looking like a pincushion when they fell away. Risers laughed as they chased after retreating residents and cut them down from behind. Despite battle continuing across the Grasslands, both sides knew. The Battle for Station was effectively over.

  Risers now took their time, their victory all but ensured. They chanted the name of their king as they carved up pleading Setters. They sang crude songs about what they would do in the Before. They pounded fists as Setters were raised into the air, impaled on long spears. Hadder put his head in his hands, the sounds of mockery too much to handle, cutting him deeper than any wound he had received.

  Then all went silent.

  Hadder removed his face from his hands, was immediately confused. The battlefield had grown dark, and Hadder looked up to see black clouds moving in to cover the Idol Moon, something never before seen in Station. Lightning jumped between the charcoal clouds, and thunder shook the Grasslands. Risers and Setters alike had stopped their fighting, all now facing east, staring slack-jawed. Hadder limped through the remaining warriors, finally reaching the edge of bodies to glimpse a view.

  Manikins lined up and down the Skirt, more than Hadder had ever seen in one place. In the center of the manikins stood Albany Rott, his red eyes ablaze with fire and his crystalline hatchets in each hand. Lightning continued its dance above their heads, and thunder threatened to crack open the ground beneath their feet. Hadder felt a drop on his arm, then another as the skies opened up, sending a deluge of liquid to assault the Grasslands. Looking at his arms, Hadder jumped to see them covered with blood, thinking he was wounded worse than thought, before realizing that it came not from him, but from the skies. It was raining blood.

  "People of Station," Albany Rott cried out, his voice booming across the Grasslands, forcing Hadder's chest to tighten. "I gave you paradise, and you turned it into Abaddon. Let me be the first to congratulate you on proving me correct. Your prize? Obliteration." As Rott completed that final word, the eyes of all the manikins changed suddenly, trading in their milky nothingness for the fires of Rott's red orbs. Rott motioned forward with one of his crystal axes, and the manikins poured into the Grasslands, moving with impossible speed, eyes ablaze with unknown anger.

  They tore into the Risers, fighting like mechanized zombies, ignoring cuts and stabbings to rip the eyes from heads, throats from necks. Albany Rott followed after them, his twin axes a blur as he dispatched three Risers in the blink of an eye.

  For a moment, Hadder's heart swelled, thinking he had reached the enigmatic Mister Rott; thinking they had proven the love many residents held for the city; thinking Rott had come in their time of need to save them.

  Hadder was wrong on all accounts.

  Manikins attacked Setters as readily as they did Risers. Hadder watched in horror as Gondo's body was ripped into four pieces by a group of manikins, who took no time to admire their handiwork. Instead, they ran off to leap upon the Caesar Augustus. Unable to tear apart the Caesar, like a mere resident, the manikins instead held on tightly to the giant before exploding, sending fiery manikin parts flying while opening smoldering holes across Augustus's body. With white bone and pink muscle peering out from four craters, the Caesar let out a roar before falling to the wet ground, an unmoving pile of scorched flesh.

  Explosions went off around Hadder as Setters and Risers both ran in fear and confusion. Thunder continued to shake the ground, which eventually opened small crevices across the Grasslands from which fire poured out, engulfing resident, Caesar, and manikin alike. Hadder stumbled around the shaking ground, the flames lighting up the battlefield as if it were a stadium. Red rain continued to fall in sheets as manikins, even those on fire, persevered, killing all in their path.

  Hadder looked on as Titus batted away a dozen manikins with his war-hammer before three took hold and detonated, sending the Caesar to his knees to be swarmed by more manikins. To the left of that, Hadder found Coral sprinting west, two manikins closing quickly. Hadder moved to follow but was sent flying to the side as something smashed into his ribs, breaking most of them. His sword flew off into the crowd.

  Hadder sucked in deeply, trying to breathe in through broken bones, and flipped over onto his back. He cursed under his breath as The Krown stepped out from the sheets of crimson rain, looking like a demon of the apocalypse. He stalked towards the fallen Hadder, his face twisted in anger, his usual cruel smile firmly in place.

  "It's over, Krown," Hadder said breathlessly. "Rott's had enough of us. There will be no Before for you."

  The Krown continued to march forward. "I can see that, plain man. But I am nothing if not a man of my word. Have I not proven that? I promised I would kill you, promised that you would kiss my crown. Now come to me!"

  Hadder pitifully attempted to scoot away from the Riser leader but ate the sole of The Krown's oversized boot for his troubles. His head lolled to the side as The Krown took Hadder's face in his large hands, pulled him up to his feet. The Krown's serpentine jade eyes burned brightly as he stared down at Hadder, the sad little man who thought he could best a king. "And now, Marlin Hadder, you may kiss my crown." The Krown slammed his head downward, his central spike aimed directly for Hadder's forehead. Hadder felt the spike pierce his skin a moment before their foreheads clashed together angrily, and stars erupted
across Hadder's vision. The two men held that position for a moment, darkness threatening to overtake Hadder, before The Krown dropped the smaller man and staggered backward, a dumb, baffled look pasted on his face.

  Gone was the central spike, and Hadder laughed from the blood-soaked ground, a tiny trickle of his own blood running down his face, mixing with that which fell from the sky. The Rage was back, and despite his wounds, Hadder got to his feet, moved towards the wobbling king, who reached up to feel for his central spike. The one that had been driven back into his own brain.

  Hadder limped over to The Krown. "Not a plain man anymore, Krown," said Hadder as he pointed to the small hole in his forehead. "Diamond-plated forehead Elevation; just got it done last Solay. Just for you, you predictable fuck. Now die for me."

  With that, Hadder pushed The Krown in the chest and watched in delight as the former king fell backward into a pool of blood on the Grasslands turf.

  The moment of elation passed, taking with it the last of Hadder's Rage, leaving a void that was quickly filled by the effects of a severe concussion. Hadder's head spun like a top, forcing him to bend forward, hands grasping knees, and puke all over The Krown's lifeless body. As the world circled around him, Hadder fell to his backside, watching the city explode and burn through bleary eyes. Darkness again crept in from the edges of his vision, telling him that the last sands of consciousness were running down the hourglass.

  Hadder sat helplessly as four manikins ran at him, said goodbye to the two worlds that he failed, and waited to be ripped apart, unable to even bring his arms up in defense. Just as they were upon him, though, the manikins broke off to either side to attack a Setter woman to Hadder's left and a Riser male to his right. Hadder was disregarded completely.

  What the fuck, was the last thought that passed through Hadder's mind before it shut off completely, sending him careening to the Grasslands floor, ready to accept his third death.