by T W Iain
Brice focused. There were old traces, of course, but anything recent was too far away to be a problem.
“We’re good,” he said. Axe turned to him, grey eyes running over his face, a lip turned up in a sneer.
Of course Axe didn’t trust Brice. Even though he’d saved the man’s life at the drop, Brice was still an outsider.
“Wolf’s entrance is just round the corner,” Axe said from the side of his mouth. “Should be sentries soon.”
The path grew narrow, but branches at the sides were broken, and the ground was worn down to mud. And in that mud, Brice saw large bootprints.
He focused, and now he could taste the other traces. The grey ones.
“Useless, this lot,” Axe said, walking taller now, as if he were more confident. “Don’t know how they’re still around.”
“They’re not.”
Brice hadn’t realised he’d said the words out loud until Axe stopped. “What d’you mean?”
“Something’s off. The ghouls have been here.”
Axe turned as he brought his Charon up. “They’re here?” Brice heard a click, and the flame ignited at the end of the barrel.
“Not any more. Been and gone.”
Axe shook his head, his lips twitching as he pondered options. “We need to check. We carry on.”
They found one of the sentries further on, a bloody mass of entrails spilling from the great rend in his stomach. A second sentry lay a few paces away, flat on his stomach but with his head twisted round, his lifeless eyes staring up at the trees.
The path led to a rock wall, and a small opening. There were two more corpses just inside.
Axe sniffed. “Stinks,” he said, then stuck his head in, pulling a torch from his belt. “Lights aren’t working either.”
Brice caught the stink, but he also caught the traces of the four ghouls.
“Hey, Wolf!” Axe shouted. “You in there? And just so you know—your dead sentries are nothing to do with us. Like that when we got here, okay?”
His words echoed back.
“Wolf? We need to talk. Got something you’re gonna want to hear.”
Again, there was no reply.
“Wolf, you degenerate son of a bitch! Get out here!”
Behind them, leaves rustled as birds took flight. Axe’s voice echoed out of the opening.
He turned to Brice, laughing. “Looks like you won’t have to convince this one, freak. If they’re all like this, you’ve got an easy job.”
Brice nodded. But he didn’t smile. “We need to find the next tribe.”
Axe shrugged. “Can’t be bad, though, if the ghouls are ahead of us the whole way.”
But that would be bad. If there were not enough tribes left, Siren’s diversion would be too small—and his friends would walk up to a guarded Proteus.
There were many more traces than Cathal expected on this side of the fence, from both kin and people. It surprised him how many traces of people were recent, until he recalled Brice describing the group approaching the fence. He’d mentioned weapons. That in itself raised too many questions—not least where the weapons came from.
<What is this place?> he asked as he walked beside Car.
<No idea,> Car sussed. <But that was a company Hermes back there. This is Kaiahive.>
Cathal nodded. Of course it was Kaiahive. The company was like a virus, infecting everything it touched.
He was proof of that.
They walked for hours, following the traces of Nyle and the grey beast—who, in turn, followed Brice’s trace. Their path twisted and turned, running through wide paths and open areas one minute, dense forest the next. Cathal tried to recall how long the perimeter fence had been, tried to work out exactly where they were, but he had no idea.
<There’s a lot of activity here,> Car sussed at one point.
<Yes.> Cathal followed the traces that flowed along a path that crossed their own. He turned his focus to the left, and thought he detected a large open area—something about the way the air moved, and the difference in the sound of the branches swaying—but he couldn’t be sure.
They walked on—Nyle hadn’t stopped, so neither would they.
A few minutes later, Car laughed.
<What?>
<Just thinking—back in the basin, Nyle was always tracking us, and now we’re tracking him.>
<But he’s still following Brice.>
Cathal hadn’t meant for that to come out so sharp, but he couldn’t share Car’s levity. The lad was all that mattered now—finding him, then protecting him. Because…because Brice was crew. Brice was all Cathal had left.
<You think he’s okay?> Car asked.
<He’ll be fine.> Brice was strong and resourceful. Rich blood flowed through his veins.
His stomach groaned, and he reached for a tree, steadying himself as his head swam.
<Cathal?>
Cathal nodded. <Just tired.> He forced a smile. <Be pleased when all this is over.>
<You and me both. You want to stop, have a drink?>
It was tempting. Cathal felt the heaviness of his legs, and the weariness of his breathing. He was tired.
But he had to reach Brice. He had to protect the lad.
<No. Let’s keep moving.>
Car nodded, turned, and walked. Cathal followed.
Brice and Axe reached the next tribe before the ghouls. After far too much talk and posturing, the leader—a short, stocky man known as Walker—seemed convinced by Brice’s story. He agreed to meet at the rendezvous, although Brice strongly suspected he intended to fight other tribes rather than the ghouls.
The next tribe, run by a rake of a woman called Vixen, gave no definite answer. As they walked away, Axe said that was more than he expected—Vixen never committed, and she could never be trusted.
The tribe after that had already been destroyed by the ghouls.
The sun dropped in the sky, and Axe grew more nervous as they walked. He rushed Brice, and when they met the tribes Axe started to interject, trying to hurry things along.
Brice played his part, even though the whole thing bored him. Walk, talk, listen to macho crap about how this tribe was better than Siren’s, get a grudging agreement to meet at the rendezvous. Then repeat. So many times that Brice lost count.
Axe said there were fifteen tribes, but Brice reckoned they’d been in about twenty cave systems by the time Axe said the next one was the last.
“It’ll take a bit of walking, though,” Axe said, constantly looking into the undergrowth, the light attached to his Charon slicing through the gloom. “Moody leads a pretty insular lot, right close to the fence. Says he wants to be left alone.”
There was a plea in that, but Brice ignored it, and they carried on.
“Any of them buggers around?”
Brice sighed. Of course there were. They’d walked past quite a few, and the beasts hadn’t bothered them. But Brice couldn’t tell Axe that. The man would freak out. And with his finger already twitching on his Charon’s trigger, he’d probably burn the whole forest down.
It didn’t surprise Brice that there were four shades to their right. But it did surprise him that they were keeping level with Brice and Axe.
“Might be,” he whispered. Axe bristled.
“What? Where?”
Now Brice traced three more, on their left.
“Both sides.”
And ahead—another three. And two more to their rear, moving in. Sealing the box.
“Stop,” he said.
Axe carried on walking, although he slowed down. “Can’t see them. You could be mistaken. Bloody freaks get things wrong all the time.”
But he jerked his gun around as he spoke, aiming into the trees.
The shades came closer. And further out, Brice caught more traces. The lines were faint, and he couldn’t tell how
many there were, but they were approaching fast.
“Stop!” he said again. And this time, Axe did.
“There.” Axe braced his weapon against his shoulder and aimed ahead. “Can’t see it clearly, though.”
But Brice was more concerned about one particular trace from behind. It was…wrong. It shouldn’t be here. It didn’t make sense.
And the shades stopped. They didn’t advance, and nor did they retreat. It was like they were waiting for something. Or someone.
The trace from behind moved closer.
“Nyle,” Brice whispered. His fingers brushed the knives on his hip.
Axe turned. “What d’you say?”
But Brice didn’t have time to answer, because the creature stepped out of the trees and onto the path.
“What…what is that thing?” Axe stepped back, the ignition flame on his Charon a pinprick of heat by Brice’s cheek. “And why’s it all covered up?”
Strips of cloth bound Nyle’s body, but they looked fresh. They had none of the waywardness of Cathal’s attire, and did not appear as stained.
Cathal was over the other side of the fence. And Nyle should be too.
“How did you get here?” Brice said as he turned side-on, ready for the attack that was bound to come.
Nyle grinned, his fangs off-white in the night. <What, no greetings? No kind words for an old adversary?>
“You’re no friend. Tell me how you got here.”
Nyle shrugged. <Looks like you’re not the only one who can climb fences. But only one of us is going back that way.> And he brought his arms out, extending his claws.
His head turned, and initially Brice thought he was communicating with the shades. Brice couldn’t believe they were ones from Haven, so he must have picked some up this side of the fence.
But then Brice realised he was twitching, more than usual. His head flinched, like he was looking over his shoulder. Like he was afraid of something.
“What’s going on?” Axe barged into Brice, aiming his weapon at Nyle. “That’s not a demon. And why are you talking to it?”
<And you’ve got a friend! Isn’t that nice. After they’ve watched you die, I’ll feed from them too.>
“Why are you here?”
Nyle cackled, sounding like breaking wood. <You have to ask? I’m going to make you pay.>
“Thought you liked what you’ve become. Didn’t you say you’d evolved now?” Brice’s heart hammered, and he breathed deep. His arms tensed. As he spoke, he focused on Nyle, ready for the first move. “If I’m the cause of what you are, shouldn’t you be thanking me?”
Nyle hissed. <You killed Shaela. You killed others. I sent my friends after you, and you destroyed them.> His head jerked up. <So maybe I should kill your friend first. Although he doesn’t appear too friendly, does he? I don’t think he likes you. Can’t say I’m surprised at that. Nobody does.> He turned, looking around. <Well, except for Cathal, and he’s not around any more, is he?> His laugh this time sounded like someone strangling a small animal.
“You understand these things?” Axe said. “What the hells are you, freak?”
Nyle tilted his head. <Ah, such a good question. What are you, Brice? I’ll tell you—you’re a nuisance. You’re a constant thorn in my side. But now, it’s time to pull that thorn out.>
Nyle was talking too much. Brice shifted his focus to the shades. They remained where they were—and he had to assume this was Nyle’s doing. But further out, he felt more approaching. And…and other traces.
Nyle raised his arms again. <You don’t have a gun, but your friend does. And I don’t trust guns. If I attack you, what’s to stop him trying to burn me?> He took a step toward Axe. The man shook, but held his ground and braced the butt of his Charon against his shoulder. <So maybe I’ll have my friends take him out while I deal with you. Of course, I might have to cut him first. A drop of blood is a wonderful motivator.>
“You don’t need to kill either of us,” Brice said, hoping that let Axe know some of what was going on. “You can keep those shades away. And you don’t need to bother with me. I’ve left the basin. I don’t intend to return. Just…just let it go, Nyle. You go your way, I’ll go mine.”
More laughter from Nyle <Like it’s that easy! No, this ends here. See, I’ve got a job to do. They want me to find you. They want me to bring you in. But you won’t go freely, will you? You’ll put up a fight, like you always do. And I’ll have to protect myself. Then—oh dear, what a shame—I’ll be bringing them a dead body.>
Brice understood little of that, but he didn’t need to. Bottom line—Nyle wanted to kill Brice.
“You don’t need to do this, Nyle. You don’t need to keep chasing me.”
<Who said anything about need?> Nyle pushed his head forward, and Brice caught a waft of the rotten, decayed stink from his body. <I want to taste your blood, Brice. I want all of it.>
And that was when Axe stepped forward. “Bloody monsters, the lot of you!”
Nyle lunged, hissing angrily. There was a whomp from the Charon, and flame gushed out, but Nyle was in the air, soaring above it.
The moment slowed, and Brice read Nyle’s trajectory, noticed how Axe stumbled as he stepped back. And Brice knew what he needed to do.
He spun, the hand by his hip grabbing the hilt of his knife, freeing it from the sheath.
Nyle collided with Axe, grabbing the man tight, driving his claws into the man’s shoulders. The Charon dropped to the ground.
Brice threw himself forward, eyes fixed on his target.
Nyle’s momentum toppled Axe. As Axe slammed into the ground, Nyle opened his mouth and bared his fangs.
And screamed in agony as Brice’s knife rammed into the back of his neck.
Warm blood sprayed over Brice’s face, mingling with Nyle’s stench. Brice gagged. But he also snaked his free arm round, gripping Nyle tight, bringing his own face closer to that leathery hide.
And he twisted the knife, pushing it deeper into the wound.
Nyle bucked. He brought his arms back as far as he could. He back-kicked, striking Brice’s legs. Through his agonised hissing, he yelled insults, his words joining then becoming noise.
Brice pulled the knife, wrenching it free from where it had slid between vertebrae. Nyle spasmed, and Brice drove the blade in again, his forearm jerking as metal struck bone. He held on tight, his vision blurring as Nyle threw himself around. And Brice put all his weight behind the knife.
There was a moment when something gave, and Nyle’s cries became a torrent of noise, sharp and sudden, and he bucked violently.
The scream died, and Nyle’s body became still.
And that was when the shades rushed in.
She wasn’t Siren’s pet! She might be small, but Deva wasn’t some kind of toy, or a child. Hadn’t she shown her worth? Hadn’t she run around in the darkness, avoiding demons like she was invisible? Hadn’t she brought that bitch information?
Deva had never felt so angry. Not even on Metis, with all the meathead comments she had to endure, and the wandering sweaty hands. At least most of them were too stupid to realise what they were doing. But this woman…she knew exactly what she was doing.
She was using everyone else to ensure her own escape. She didn’t care who died in the process, as long as she lived.
The forest was chilly, but that didn’t matter. Deva huffed as she stomped along paths, not caring who heard her. Just so long as it wasn’t Siren. Not that she’d leave her beloved Warren without someone to protect her. It wasn’t like that cow would even consider wandering alone, not even in the day.
Siren was weak. She manipulated others—how she was cruel, how she caused pain and death—because she needed others to look up to her. She needed Soldier and Axe. And if she didn’t need the others as much, she could use them as…as fodder.
Something rust
led in the undergrowth to her left, and Deva jumped. But it was only some kind of rodent. Just one of the many creatures that made their home in the forest, oblivious to the warring tribes and the demons and the ghouls.
She kicked a small stone, sending it after whatever was moving. There was no more sound, and Deva cursed.
She walked on, swiping branches out of her way. These paths were all so similar—mud, wood and leaves, green and brown everywhere. Even when she looked up, branches barred her view of the sky.
When had the forest become a prison?
Deva remembered the first time she’d set foot on this planet, a lifetime ago. The crew had found her on that Proteus, but they’d agreed to let her join them, at least temporarily. Then they’d opened the craft’s hatch.
She’d stepped into another world.
The air on Metis was kept meticulously clean, any dust and microbes filtered out. It was—nothing. But when she walked down the ramp and stepped onto grass—actual grass!—the air had assailed her, alive and oh so refreshing.
The trees had been beautiful, too—trunks that forced their way upwards, branches lazily intertwining, laden with vibrant leaves that flickered and waved at her. There were hints of yellow and even red running through the green.
Then there were the flowers. Not the splashes of colour she’d seen in images and feeds from elsewhere, not the stylised displays some of the posher areas of Metis had, but tiny dots of colour, subtle and wonderful, and the closer she came to them the more intricate they grew.
She’d wanted to stay there forever, surrounded by all this beauty. But now, Deva simply wanted to get away.
And there was nothing stopping her.
Siren might need to fly out to avoid the fence, but Deva could climb it. She could walk past the demons and they wouldn’t even notice her. She could leave this place any time she wanted.
She never had to see that woman again.
Deva smiled.
The wind called to her through the trees. She tipped her head back, accepting the breeze. Yes. She’d drift on. She’d walk to the fence, climb, then keep on walking.
When she opened her eyes, the branches above were dark. Where she expected to see flashes of sunlight she saw only the moon’s paleness.