by Tyson Jordan
We touched down on the same landing pad we had used before at the Bastion, and left the ship urgently, hoping to find what we needed in the armoury. My leg still burned under my weight, but there was no time to recuperate further. We stepped down out of the cramped ship only to find Osmium Dunis, wearing full riot gear and clutching a heavy rifle tightly. The security officer was clearly furious, and behind him stood some two dozen men, each clad in their own patchy equipment and grasping rifles.
“And just where are we going today, hmm?” He growled at us, his voice distorted by the hard black polymer of his helmet. Argenta kept walking forward, uncaring for his objections.
“Hey, rich girl! I’m talking to you!” A dark blue gauntlet suddenly reached out and gripped Argenta’s arm. My eyes opened wide, fearing a confrontation not only with Osmium but with the entirety of his armed forces.
Argenta shrugged off the officer’s grip assertively, and spoke. “You should know by now that the Guild operates with impunity. Your objections to our activities are neither warranted nor appreciated.”
“I’m not here to argue politics with you. I’m asking you if you have any real concept of what you did the other night with that explosive stunt of yours. Do you have any idea just how much goddamned damage you did to the surrounding area when you brought that tower down? I won’t pretend I’m in the business of fighting the Malinvicta like you are, but I am in the business of helping innocent people.”
“In this case, the two ends are one and the same. We have no time to spare, and we have no interest in your tedious objections.” Argenta prepared to walk past, and Osmium stepped in front of her, undeterred. The Sentry glared at him.
“I don’t care if you’re interested in what I have to say—you’re going to hear it anyway. You’re damned lucky that the tower was sequestered off from any residential areas, that’s for sure. But now, I see you two landing here and marching off like it’s time to level another facility, one that sits one hell of a lot closer to the Teem, and considering just how much you like your impunity, I don’t think you have any real concept of how many people you’re going to hurt this time.”
“For the final time, our plans are not of your concern. We have no further time to waste with you. What we do is in the interest of the War effort, and that is all you need to know.” Argenta repeated herself, her arms folded.
“And I made my peace with that a long time ago. All I ask is that you let me and my boys provide you with support on the ground. I don’t want to see bystanders get caught up in all this, and considering just how loud you’ve played this already, I think that’s a very real possibility.”
Argenta and I looked at one another in surprise, realising that the officer’s lecture was an offer of support. I considered Argenta’s earlier words. She and I were only two Sentries, understrength and inexperienced, preparing to attack a fortress that would no doubt be prepared to offer heavy resistance.
Some two dozen of the Bastion’s officers made their way onto the landing pad then and stood in ranks behind Osmium, wearing the same deep blue combat armour and holding assault rifles tightly to their chests. Argenta looked back at me, and I smiled in approval and faint hope that our plan could succeed.
38
The Afflicted
With its stealth systems useless, the Destrier was not a viable option for our new task. The sight of the ship, white and streaking loudly through the sky, would only announce both our position and intentions, so Osmium presented another option.
With empty algae containers in tow, the personnel carrier we rode in was cramped, hot, and dimly lit. It was an obsolete model from some decades or centuries before, which heaved and lurched with each passing moment. Argenta and I had already donned our armour, sitting across from one another in red and gold, while Osmium and five of his officers sat or stood, polishing weapons and insulting one another casually. I imagined that the other two personnel carriers were much the same, and paid their conversation no mind. I thought of Janus, and let my gaze fall to the stained floor, jostling from side to side as the road turned rough beneath the carrier’s six heavy treaded wheels.
Over a crude loudspeaker, we heard our driver call out, “Two minutes to the Teem!”
The officers snapped to attention, stretching their muscles and crying out in confident appreciation. They were soldiers through and through, and Osmium barked, “You know our objective! The Sentries get to the sewers as close to the manufacturing plant as possible! Lethal force is not authorised! Stun rounds only and remember to keep moving! We get out when they get in!”
There was real passion in his voice as the security officer gave his commands, and I could not help but wonder what kind of person he had once been. He gave me a hard look, one rife with determination, and I returned it.
I stood, tilting my head away from the low ceiling, and adjusted the belt of high explosive charges over my shoulder, grateful that the Bastion’s armoury had not been completely depleted. Argenta stood next to me, her hand resting on the hilt of Engeltrane , and drew in a long and slow breath. The vehicle rumbled and creaked again, and the lights in the carrier flickered for a moment before we came to an abrupt stop.
Over the loudspeaker, the tinny voice of our driver crackled. “Dunis … they’re everywhere.” Osmium pounded his fist on the metal exit, and the hydraulic door swung open, grinding in resistance before slamming into the ground. We burst out of the door, prepared to run, prepared to fight, when we were brought to a sudden halt by the sight of the Afflicted.
I recognised this place. We gathered in the town square of the Teem, with the central fountain trickling away, its clasped hands mottled and fractured. There were so many Erdechildren there, standing in filthy and emaciated crowds. They stood in the streets, in the windows of every hovel, and even perched on the fountain itself. No matter which way I turned, the Afflicted were there, their mouths slightly agape and their eyes wide, staring at us in silent unison.
I could hear the tactical officers murmuring, some in fear, others in aggression, and others still in yearning, and the sharp click of safeties being lifted on their rifles was repetitive. A wave of terror struck me then as I realised that we might not make it to the sewers, much less the fortress, and I bared my teeth.
The girl emerged from the crowd near the fountain. She was small, malnourished, and barefoot, with wispy black hair and grime on most of her skin. No, no, please not you too … I stared at her in horror as she took a few steps forward in the silence, her scarred feet immune to the cracks and rough stones of the street, and smiled at me sweetly.
She raised her hand and pointed a bony finger at me, then ordered simply, “Kill them.”
The crowd surged forward, hundreds of filthy bodies howling in glee as a wave of filth and flesh closed in all around us. I heard Osmium shout an order to the squadron and they formed a wall around Argenta and me, their weapons blazing in harsh blue light. The Afflicted began falling, incapacitated and sprawled in the street, only to be swallowed by the ever-growing wave that was leaping and bounding toward us. The red warrior at my side drew Engeltrane reflexively, and I cried out, “No! We can’t kill these people!”
She sheathed her sword begrudgingly, and we ran for the fountain, our footsteps muffled by the endless high-pitched pulsing of stun rounds. The crowd grew closer and closer with each passing moment, and amidst all the chaos I could hear the rising panic of Osmium and his security officers. More bodies fell to the street, trampled by the wave behind them, and soon they were upon us. I could feel the heat and stench of their breath, and there were so many limbs, clutching and grasping at me.
I began pushing back, feeling the great strength afforded to me by my armour, and the mob receded each time. A shirtless bearded man grabbed my arm with long gnarled fingers, and I struck him to the ground with a clenched fist. Another took his place almost immediately, and I began beating back, feeling the impact of each blow as the Afflicted crumpled painfully to the street before lapsin
g into unconsciousness.
There were too many, and out of the corner of my eye I could see the struggling tactical officers, forever driving the refugees back with the butts of their rifles or firing their stun rounds into the surge. One of the soldiers had been enveloped by the crowd, his arms and legs tightly gripped by too many hands to count. His helmet had been torn off, revealing the wide-eyed fear and rage of a green-haired Ocean Dweller, who screamed as he struggled, firing his rifle repeatedly. The crowd surged again, and he vanished.
“This isn’t working! This isn’t working!” I cried out, and I heard Argenta and Osmium call back in affirmation as the wall of security officers splintered. Above the heads of the teeming masses I could see the sculpture, its waters trickling oblivious to the madness in the street below. It was not the point of entry that we had planned, but it was our only option.
Another of the Afflicted charged at me, his open mouth spraying flecks of saliva in my face and his blackened fingers clutching at my face. I leaned back and planted my foot into his abdomen, kicking him back into the crowd, which buckled beneath the force of his reentry. I seized my moment of opportunity, and tore one of the explosive charges from the belt. I called Argenta’s name and held it in the air, and her eyes shone in understanding.
I hurled the charge high above the crowd towards the fountain, and there was a sudden ray of brilliant red light that burst forth from the crowd, the heat that Argenta had seized from our assailants. The light struck the charge as it landed neatly on the fountain, and it detonated in impressive fashion, sending a tall spire of flame high into the sky. The fountain crumbled beneath its force immediately, the clasped hands of the Erdeson and the Ocean Dweller breaking apart, and water surged from the destroyed fixtures.
There was a hole in the street then, a dark and foreboding opening that was only wide enough for two, and that would serve as our entry to the sewers below. Argenta and I rained blows upon the Afflicted, feeling grimy hands and bony fingers claw at our faces as we pushed through. Above it all, I could hear Osmium yell, “Go, go! Get the hell in there!”
The opening was close now—the street had turned wet and I could feel flecks of water spraying through the air. A few steps followed, and Argenta broke free from the mob, diving into the pit. I shrugged off the grip of another Afflicted, this one a screeching young woman, and dove in, falling into the stagnant darkness.
39
Sewage
I fell for only a few moments, the chaos of the street and the last few pulses of Osmium’s rifle subdued, and heard a deep splash ahead of me. I tensed my arms and legs as I noticed the warm glow of maintenance lighting beneath me, and landed in a knee-deep river of waste water. I cursed as the heavy smell of sewage invaded my nostrils and refused to leave, and I saw Argenta leaning against the wall of the sewer, thoroughly unimpressed by the immovable filth.
I climbed to the narrow concrete walkway that ran along the edge of the sewer system and stood next to the Sentry, who began briskly moving forward towards our target. Despite not entering the sewer system at our planned location, we were nonetheless only a short distance from it. We had succeeded.
“All those people up there …” I looked up at the faint light from whence we fell. There were hundreds of Afflicted in the Teem who attacked us, nearly mindless and shackled by the wants of the Malinvicta. I thought of Osmium and his security forces too, thinking of the surging crowd all around them as the percussion of the stun rounds above continued weakly.
“What we do here today will be our only means of saving them. You must understand this.” Argenta spoke over her shoulder, always moving forward, and I focused on what lay before me.
“Do you think that Osmium got out?” I asked again, fearful of an answer. There were so many of the Afflicted on the street, howling and scrabbling at whatever they could attack, and so few of us. The sound of their conflict grew quieter with each moment, and I could no longer hear the high-pitched sound of stun rounds being fired into the crowd.
“I do not know what became of him. For now, and regrettably, hope is all we can offer him.” Argenta’s voice was restrained. We stopped walking along the dimly lit path. The divergence in the sewer system had come, one walkway splitting off to the right and the other to the left, and I unbuckled a belt of explosive charges. The red Sentry took the belt and we reaffirmed our mission before taking opposite paths, each of us sure in our aim.
For all of my dislike of Argenta, I nevertheless resented her absence as I stepped forward, suddenly more aware of the gurgling green sewage and the squeaking of small mutant rodents everywhere I turned. Ahead I could see the first of my targets, a pillar of bedrock that anchored the various support beams ahead. I fixed an explosive charge to it and synchronised it with my chronopatch before moving forward again, feeling ever more apprehensive.
In the viscous green of the sewer I could see a faint shape, blackened and bobbing ominously in the water. My hand met Demonbite instantly as I thought of the charcoal flesh of the Alphas we had fought before, and I stepped behind the form slowly and silently, watching it drift from side to side in the sewage before stopping at a grate, barring its path from the cylindrical pipe ahead. I watched it intently as I walked, my sword at the ready, and exhaled in relief, realising that it was mere garbage.
I turned my head to the left and saw the soulless, hollow eyes of a Beta staring at me, its five limbs fixed tightly to the walls and ceiling, and I cried out, “Oh, goddamn it all!” I swung my blade wildly at the Malinvictus, its pale, thin flesh painted with flecks of sewage, and Demonbite met its mark. One of its legs was severed, and fell to the concrete with a wet thud, spasming stupidly before I disgustedly kicked the limb into the river of sewage.
The Beta skittered away, darting madly from wall to ceiling to wall again, and retreated into the darkness, leaving a trail of oozing blood behind. I could hear Argenta’s voice crackling through my chronopatch, but I did not reply. I charged after the Beta, who squealed and howled in pain, its spindly limbs carrying it around a bend. I swore again, redoubling my pace, and rounded the curve before crying out in terror.
There were three of them there, larger than the first, bearing five or seven or even nine limbs, and all of them stared at me from hollow, lightless eye sockets. The Beta I had attacked earlier was dead on the concrete floor, barely visible beneath the scrabbling hands that had peeled its flesh apart for food, and we stared at one another in momentary confusion.
I took a step back, breathing through gritted teeth and grasping my sword tightly with both hands, holding the heavy steel before me. One of the Malinvicta approached me, tentatively at first, and I could see bits of yellow, stringy flesh hanging from its open mouth, fresh with the thin blood of its kill. It took a step forward, and I stepped back all the same, suddenly aware of how close the quarters were in the sewer. It moved forward again, tilting its head in some effort to understand, then squealed in glee as it leapt forward, five arms outstretched for me.
I roared in disgust as I lunged forward, holding my sword before me. Demonbite pierced the grey, rubbery flesh of the Beta’s abdomen and exited from the back, and I could feel the monster thrashing in pain on my sword. I kicked the Beta free from my blade, feeling a spurt of hot yellow blood spread across my face, and I saw it try to scrabble away, its legs no longer responsive. I brought my sword down on its neck, ending its miserable wailing.
The others charged forward, excited by the prospect of the fresh meat I had left on the floor, and I groaned in revulsion. A seven-limbed monstrosity clambered up the wall and then moved to the ceiling, its joints popping grotesquely, while the other Beta leapt across the channel of sewage to the adjacent walkway, running down the path with its eyes on me, each of its nine limbs stretching to clamber over the last.
I wrestled my gun free from its holster and fired at the Malinvictus across the walkway, watching the violet plasma sear and sever its limbs, which smoked and twitched on the floor. The Beta squealed in sudden ago
ny and lay still.
I turned my attention to the last of them and screamed when I felt the cold, clammy flesh of its hands on my throat and face. This one was fiercer than the others, and I fell on my back, hearing my sword and gun clatter uselessly to the floor at my sides. We wrestled and tossed from side to side as I felt one limb after another wrap around my torso and my legs. The rancid breath of the black-eyed monster was on my face, and it let out a triumphant howl. I thrashed beneath its weight and terrible strength, and stared in wide-eyed horror at the few needle-like teeth that protruded from its black mouth. The creature let out a high growl as I kicked and tossed from side to side, and struck me across the face with one of its free limbs. I grunted, noticing Demonbite nearby, and reached out for the blade.
There was a sudden surge of heat in the air as the plasma bolt flew forward, echoing in the sewer and piercing the soft flesh of the Beta’s neck. It slumped over, lifeless, and I rolled its body into the sewage, letting it float and bob with the current that carried it away. I looked upward, thinking that Argenta had doubled back and followed me, and I rose to my feet, suddenly aware of the blood trickling from the corner of my mouth. I looked down the walkway and saw Janus standing before me, his blue scale mail glinting in the faint yellow of the sewer system’s lights.
“Hey, big guy,” he said with a smile, holstering his weapon. My chest tightened and I hurriedly retrieved my gun and my sword, finding no comfort in either of them. I holstered my gun and rested Demonbite on my shoulder, my grip on its hilt tight.
“Why so apprehensive, Zircon?” Janus calmly stepped towards me, and I grimaced.