Whispers of Ash (The Nameless Book 1)

by Adrian Smith

  “All right. Let’s move. Everyone, keep alert.”

  The cold night air brushed against his skin as Ryan jogged across the roof, scanning for any hostiles. The roof and the surrounding scaffolding remained clear. With a quick glance down into the forest, he signaled to the others and pointed to a ladder clamped to the side of the building.

  Allie went first, guiding Hogai and Keiko, then Sofia.

  Fear of discovery, whether by the death squads or the Siphons, nagged at Ryan. Despite the recent addition of weaponry, survival was a long shot for his group. There were too many variables and unknowns. He waited until all the others were under the cover of the conifer forest before descending and ducking into the shadows himself.

  He found the others crouched behind a large, moss-covered rock. He held a finger to his lips, to remind everyone to stay silent, and gestured to Allie to take point. They had discussed it at length earlier. Allie had hiked the trail, so she knew the way.

  Ryan shut out the sounds of his group’s footsteps and, letting his breathing adopt a steady rhythm, focused instead on the sounds of the forest: the leaves rustling as the wind blew up the mountain, the hoots of owls, the chirping of crickets. In the distance, he could pick out the crackle of fire. The smell of aviation fuel carried on the breeze from the plane crash.

  Sofia glanced back every now and again, smiling. As much as Ryan’s body protested the lack of sleep, he enjoyed the company.

  The trail wound down the forested mountain, past countless shrines filled with incense and offerings. They passed trees, statues of Buddha wrapped in sashes of red and orange silk, and bubbling streams and small waterfalls.

  Ryan breathed it all in. Japan was a country filled with contrasts. Huge megalopolises neighbored hundreds of natural areas, and nestled within those areas of beauty were thousands of shrines and holy places.

  He frowned; a clicking, chattering noise filled the forest, as if a hundred people were clicking their fingers simultaneously.

  He and Sofia drew their weapons, glancing around.

  “What is it?” Allie said.

  Ryan crouched down and urged everyone to follow suit. He peered into the night and gasped at what he saw. Metal objects, each the size of a small dog, scampered into view. Red glowing eyes shone from the front of their triangle heads and oblong bodies. What scared him, though, was the fact they had eight legs, attached to which were an array of implements. Some looked like drill bits, others cutting instruments, while more looked like pincers strong enough to crush rocks.

  He was staring at robotic spiders like the one he had seen in the lab.

  “Kumobots,” Hogai said. Ryan tugged him away, but the teenager brushed him off. “It’s okay. I helped build them. They are for search and rescue.” The teenager held out a hand.

  “What the hell are they doing out here?”

  Hogai shrugged. “Looking for someone, I guess.”

  “And those implements?”

  “We were working on equipping the Kumobots with tools they might need to dig their way through rubble. To search for survivors after an earthquake or tsunami.” Hogai smiled, lifting his chin. “See that red light? It’s a scanner. Right now, it’s scanning us for vital signs. Reading our body temperature. Checking our heart rate. Once the bot determines we are alive, it will move on.”

  The lead Kumobot snapped its pincers together and emitted a red laser. The laser scanned the group, the Kumobot clicking as it did so. Once it had finished, the Kumobot let out a shrill call and dozens of metal spiders swarmed around the small group, then flowed off into the forest.

  Ryan’s hand hovered over his weapon as they disappeared in the deepening gloom.

  “This night just keeps getting stranger,” Sofia said.

  “That’s an understatement,” Allie added.

  “I want to know who let them out,” Ryan said. “We just walked through that facility. Fought Siphons. Piles of ash everywhere, and all we found was Hogai. So who’s…?”

  Gunfire erupted from farther down the trail, and shrieks filled the air.

  Ryan groaned. “What now?” he muttered and drew his pistol.

  Thirty

  Satellite Installation

  Sierra Nevada Mountains

  Zanzi waited with her arms behind her back, staring out the window. The day was gray and overcast. Dark rain-soaked clouds were building up over the mountains. After a fitful sleep contemplating her decision, she had awoken at dawn and accepted Milo’s proposal. If she wanted to have any chance at stopping the madness, she needed to be on the inside. That done, she had used the long corridors to run laps. The guards, the same ones who had been vulgar and crude to her the night before, watched on in silence.

  Tilly bounced up to her. “Beautiful, isn’t it. It’s like it’s made from marshmallows. Wouldn’t that be yummy. We went to the county fair once and Mum said I could have some marshmallows, but they only had cotton candy. I don’t even like cotton candy.”

  “Hey, Tilly.”

  “Oh yeah. Hey.”

  “What are you doing today?” It was a strange question to ask, but Zanzi wanted to have a normal conversation for a change. She wanted to find out about Tilly, how long she had been here, find out why she was still so full of life despite her surroundings, and why she acted thirteen, not twenty as she appeared. Zanzi needed a break from talking about schemes or escapes. A normal chat about music. Or movies. The mountains. Favorite food or animals.

  Tilly played with her hair as she tilted her head to one side. “I don’t know. Barko said all the tests were finished. I’m done. I get my prize.”

  “Your prize?”

  “Not a prize like if you do well at school or something. I’ve been here a long time. I think. We’ve had assemblies like in school, but no one got certificates. This one girl tried to escape once. The clickers got her. Stab. Stab. Stab.” Tilly laughed. “I’ve never seen so much blood. It was gross. I think her name was Indigo. No India. Nah, that’s not right. Oh, it was Imogen.”

  Zanzi smiled at Tilly. Despite her babbling, she had an infectious personality. She had probably been subjected to all sorts of horrors, but here she was, cheerful and bouncing around like Tigger in Winnie the Pooh.

  Zanzi wanted to ask her about the clickers, but instead said, “The prize?”

  “Oh yeah. Barko takes you wherever you want to go. You can even get to ride in the helicopter. But I haven’t seen him for weeks.”

  The door at the end of the corridor banged open. Milo and two guards strode toward Zanzi and Tilly, their footsteps echoing.

  “You two. Tomorrow you will join one of our field teams.” Milo smirked, and his weird tattoo creased. “We need samples.”

  “Samples of what?”

  “You will see. Alba is leading the team.”

  He laughed before turning and stomping away. She noted that, apart from when she was alone with him in his office, Milo always had guards.

  Tilly bounced up to her and clasped her hands behind her back. “Do you want to see where we used to hang out? When the other children were here.”

  “Sure, why not?”

  Tilly smiled and skipped down the empty hallway, urging Zanzi to follow. Zanzi had agreed, mainly to take her mind off everything that happened. Perhaps seeing what Tilly had been subjected to would give her more motivation.

  Now that she had agreed to work for ReinCorp, she had been given more freedom. They wandered the hallways and floors. Some contained empty rooms like theirs, with neatly made beds. They passed rooms filled with children’s toys and books, packed away like they no longer had any little hands to hold them. “The little kids used to play in there, but most of the time they just cried in the corners. It was sad. Me and Imogen used to read to them.”

  They passed cafeterias, empty and gathering dust, and a basketball court. They came to a small room filled with screens. Tilly shook visibly and grabbed at the edges of the doorframe.

  “I hate this room. Alba made me watch hor
rible videos of people dying. Blood and stuff. People being hanged.”

  Zanzi said nothing but wondered to what end. Subjecting anyone to methods such as these was unethical to say the least, but to do it to children … She clenched her fists at her side. That was revolting.

  A room with a swimming pool and another filled with bean bags was next. Tilly paused in the doorway to a padded room, and tears welled in her eyes.

  “There was a bully named Simone when I was at high school. She had perfect hair and all the boys and some of the girls loved her. Did you know that girls who like girls are called lesbians?”

  “Yeah. Did you know it’s from the Greek island of Lesbos? From the poet Sappho,” Zanzi said.

  “Greek? Is that a country or something?”

  “Yes. In Europe.”

  “Oh. Anyway, Simone always used to bully me in English class. She sat behind me, and one day she stabbed me with a compass, over and over. It hurt. Really hurt. I yelled at her to stop. Mr. Carpenter gave me detention. I was so mad. Then Simone stabbed me again. I was so angry, I stood up and hit her over the head with my chair. I broke her jaw and she had to eat for weeks through a straw. Mum said she deserved it, but I still got expelled. Hermione said that’s worse than death. Have you read Harry Potter?”

  “Yes, I love Harry Potter. And you know what? I think the bully definitely deserved it.”

  Tilly walked into the padded room. “They used to put me in here after I lost my temper. Said I needed to cool off. But they left me here for days at a time.”

  “Why did they test you, Tilly? Did they ever tell you?”

  “Never. Once, someone said something about helping the world.” Tilly slumped onto the floor and lay back.

  Zanzi dropped beside her and hugged her against her chest. “I’m sorry that happened to you. No one deserves treatment like that.”

  “I just want to go home, but I don’t know where home is anymore.” Tilly began to cry, and Zanzi did nothing to stop her. Sometimes one just needed to let it out. Hearing Tilly tell her of the experiments steeled her will to take down these maniacs. Tomorrow, she would help Alba collect samples, and she would observe. Learn everything she could of their operation. Probe for any weakness.

  “C’mon. Let’s go somewhere nicer.”

  Tilly smiled. “I know where we can get ice cream.” She bounded up and tugged on Zanzi’s arm. She led her past more empty rooms. Empty of people, but not of horrors, which lingered in the air. It was only a feeling, but it filled Zanzi with dread.

  On the next floor was a large dining room. Long tables with red tablecloths dotted the middle. Tilly pulled her over to the dessert bar and began filling a bowl with soft serve ice cream. She giggled. “Help yourself. We’re allowed.”

  Zanzi heaped a cup with ice cream and joined Tilly at a table that gave them a view of the mountains.

  “I like to come here sometimes. Just watch the eagles,” Tilly said, pointing. “You can see them over there.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  They fell into silence. Zanzi spooned the sweet dessert into her mouth and tried to figure out Milo’s motivation for offering her a job. Was he toying with her, or did he have something else in mind? She sighed at the strangeness of it all and ate her ice cream.

  Thirty-One

  Koyasan, Japan

  Ryan led them away from the sounds of the battle. It was close, maybe a hundred meters away, and the last thing he wanted to get caught up in. His only focus was getting home and finding his daughter. A shotgun boomed in the darkness, the shooter obscured from view by an outcrop of limestone rocks and fir trees.

  Allie paused where the path split into three. One left, one down a steep incline, while the other swept right through a multitude of torii gates. They were made from thick round logs and painted bright red or orange. Black Japanese writing adorned the sides, standing out even in the semi-darkness.

  Ryan pointed to the west. “Away from the fight.”

  Allie shook her head. “That goes back to Koya eventually.”

  The rest of the group caught up; concern etched across their faces.

  Sofia gestured down. “Only one way left,” she said. “Where does that go?”

  “No idea. Sorry,” Allie said. “The path I took last time is exactly where the fighting is.”

  “That way is cursed,” Hogai spoke up, his voice quivering. “No one uses it anymore. Look.” He gestured to a small egg-shaped object next to the path. It was covered in cracks, chips, and moss, and three lines were carved into it. “This is a warning. Don’t go this way or the Akuma will take you into the spirit world, never to come back.”

  Rapid gunfire echoed through the trees. Shouts and screams followed. Light from torches bounced around like a possessed light show.

  “It’s our only option,” Ryan said.

  “I’m not going that way,” Hogai said.

  Ryan looked at the teenager. He was tempted to pick him up and throw him over his shoulder, carry him fireman-style all the way off this mountain. “We don’t have time to argue.”

  “Fine. But if the Akuma rises, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  They moved down steep rock stairs, overgrown with weeds and lichen. Ryan slowed his pace, wary of falling in the semi-darkness. The clouds had parted, revealing a quarter moon. Not quite enough light to be safe, but just enough to see by without giving away their location by using flashlights.

  Sounds of branches crashing chased the rag-tag survivors. Ryan caught glimpses of movement but ignored it all. For now, the firefight was in the distance.

  The path rounded a sharp turn and the landscape dropped from view. A waterfall tumbled under a beautifully carved stone bridge. A Shinto shrine sat in the middle, with remnants of long-forgotten incense and candles littered around it. Hogai was right. This path hadn’t been used in a long time.

  Hogai stopped before the bridge and turned. “The devil’s bridge. The Akuma cursed this bridge because an old lady tricked him out of her soul. For decades, people used this bridge to come to Koya, stopping at the shrine to offer their respects. One day a woman was in too much of a hurry to do so, and the Akuma rose, telling her that when the next living soul passed over the bridge, he would take it into the spirit world for eternity. The woman warned everyone away, but it was the best route up the mountain. They pleaded with her to fix her mistake, so she went down and crossed the bridge. The Akuma waited for her on the other side, holding out his clawed hand. But the woman was smart and clever. She unbuttoned her coat and pulled out a dog. She had tricked the Akuma. The dog was the first living soul over the bridge. The Akuma cursed the bridge forever and disappeared into the ether. It’s never been used since.”

  A woman, clothes hanging off her body, stumbled around the corner. She stopped and shrieked when she saw Hogai and Ryan.

  What the hell?

  She took another step forward but stumbled. Her right foot jutted out at a painful angle. She shrieked again, lunging for Hogai. Ryan pulled the teenager back and kicked the woman. She stumbled again and fell off the bridge.

  Hogai shivered and pushed Ryan’s hand away. “I told you it was cursed, but no one listened.”

  Crack! Crack!

  Bullets zipped over their heads, hitting the trees on the far side with a wet thunk. Ryan shoved Hogai forward. “Curse or not, if we stay, we’re dead.”

  The forest around them filled with the noise of battle. Pops and cracks of rifle fire, occasional booms of shotguns and grenades. Soldiers shouted and screamed. It was as if the whole mountainside was alive, fighting and raging, determined to shake off the humanity that had besieged its sanctity.

  Ryan didn’t want to voice his suspicion—that the small firefight they had witnessed in the office building was just a taster. Now the opposing forces—the death squads and YamTech security—were in open combat.

  As he ran, Ryan risked a peek over his shoulder and pulled his Glock free. The shooter was making a racket in the undergrowth, b
ut he remained hidden and, so far, no more rounds came their way. Perhaps they were just missed rounds and not intended for him or the others.

  More stone steps, slippery with dew, appeared on the path. Everyone slowed as the terrain became perilous.

  “Take it slow. Be careful,” he whispered.

  Ryan spotted the bright lights of the train station. He brought everyone to a halt and grabbed his scope. “Wait up,” he said. “Allie, watch our backs.”

  Nothing moved apart from the odd piece of litter blowing in the light breeze. Gokurakubashi had two stations next door to each other: a cable car to take people up the mountain to Koyasan, and a regular train station connected to the vast network of Japan. The cable car sat dormant. A passenger train, painted red and cream, waited at the platform, still and brightly lit. Like most countries, Japan’s rail system ran on electricity. If the grid was working, the trains would operate.

  Ryan swiveled his scope from side to side, checking all corners of the abandoned station. If there was anyone guarding it, they were being careful, keeping themselves out of sight. He didn’t like it. It was too quiet. Where were the surviving residents? Wouldn’t they be trying to get to a safe zone? He was in one of the most disaster-prepared countries in the world, and nothing was happening. He breathed deeply, attempting to detect any scents out of place. Apart from a hint of cordite and sweat, there was nothing unusual.

  “See anything?” Sofia said.

  “Nada.”

  “That can’t be good.”

  “Nope.”

  “Thoughts?”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “What about a car?”

  “Too risky. The roads will be chaotic.”

  “True.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “You said that.”

  Ryan forced a smile. The train made the most sense. If the track was clear, they could drive it straight to Osaka. Nice and easy. Home free. He had to trust his gut, that sixth sense. Last time he hadn’t, his wife had died. His instincts told him it was guarded, but it was their only opportunity.