by R S Penney
“With the Unifying Field,” Nari replied as if that answered the question. Tommy had no idea what she was planning, but at this moment, he would take any hope, no matter how small. “Let us get to safety.”
Men of the City Watch arrived, dropping to one knee and lifting up rifles they had taken from the armoury. They fired with a thunderous roar, bullets ripping through the gray horde, dropping dozens of enemies.
The Ether stirred as Desa triggered her Gravity-Sink. She jumped, rising into the air and then tossed a coin out behind herself, releasing a blast of kinetic energy that seemed to only affect her.
Brilliant! Tommy thought as he watched her fly out over the field, the coin trailing behind her, pulled by a Gravity-Source that only affected it. Now, why hadn’t he come up with something like that?
Desa drew her right-hand revolver, pointing it down into the crowd. She fired six shots, producing a spray of black blood with every one. Then, holstering one pistol, she drew the other and fired a single round.
This one was a Heat-Sink that made frost crystallize on a dozen grays, shattering them when they fell over. Desa flung her coin toward the red distortion, and then she was flying backwards, twisting around in midair.
She alighted gently on the cobblestones about ten feet behind the watchmen and then nodded once. “We can’t just flee,” she said. “We’re the only ones who can keep these people alive.”
“I cannot challenge Hanak Tuvar alone,” Nari said. “I need all of you to help me guide the Field.”
The watchmen fired another volley.
Desa stepped up to Nari, craning her neck to stare into the other woman’s eyes. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “You’ll be sitting there, in a trance, disconnected from your bodies. Someone has to guard you.”
The watchmen stood up, turned around and ran along the road, back into the city. “Retreat!” their sergeant shouted. Thankfully, Desa didn’t argue. She hopped into Midnight’s saddle, offering her hand so that Nari could climb up behind her.
The horse turned around and took off at a trot, moving deeper into the city, the blue-clad watchmen parting to make way. Tommy and Miri followed. They were soon joined by crowds of people from intersecting streets.
Many of Ofalla’s roads simply ended abruptly, becoming dirt paths before they even reached the outermost buildings and disappearing entirely soon after. But those gray brutes didn’t mind getting a little mud on their shoes. They were flooding into the city on multiple streets.
Kalia came around a corner and fell in beside Tommy. She was gasping for breath, glancing back over her shoulder, dark hair streaming in the wind. “They’re everywhere!” she cried out.
“Nari has a plan.”
“Oh? And what’s that?”
Red-cheeked and panting, Tommy hissed. Sweat beaded on his forehead and slicked the back of his shirt. “She thinks we can use the Ether to cut them off from Hanak Tuvar. They’ll all drop dead.”
“Works for me!”
The East Road opened into a square of gray buildings with slanted, black rooftops. Most stood two or three stories high, packed so tightly together there wasn’t an inch of space between them. He saw an inn, a tavern, a tailor’s shop and a bookkeeper’s office. On a normal day, this place would be bustling with happy people going about their business. Today, it was filled with frantic people trying their darndest to escape an army of the dead.
Normally, a plaza like this would have something smack-dab in the middle. A statue or a fountain or something. But this one offered nothing but cobblestones. Plenty of space to corral the helpless humans.
Narrow byroads branched off on the north and south sides of the square, connecting to larger streets that ran parallel to the East Road. He could see gray bodies rushing past on each of them, moving westward into the city.
“One small problem,” Tommy said, turning to Kalia. “Nari needs all of us to help her guide the Ether. There will be no Field Binders to protect the city.”
“There will be one,” Desa said, pushing her way through a crowd that parted to make room for her. Her face was grim, her eyes as hard as diamonds. “I’m making my stand here.”
Kalia rushed to her, throwing her arms around Desa. “Then I’m staying with you.”
Desa pulled back, resting her hands on the other woman’s shoulders. That look of anguish on her face. Tommy suspected that Kalia wouldn’t like whatever came next. “No,” Desa replied. “Mercy needs you.”
“But-”
“Look, we don’t have time to argue about it,” Desa snapped. “You, me, Tommy and Mercy. That’s all we have to work with. Which of us is most skilled at combat Field Binding?”
“You are,” Kalia admitted.
Desa ground her teeth, turning her face away from the other woman. “Then it makes sense for me to guard you while you do what needs to be done,” she grumbled. “No arguments now. We need to get to work.”
“But I want to help you,” Kalia protested.
Desa kissed her nose and then smiled. “You will be,” she promised. “Go with Tommy.”
Nari came forward, shoving her way between two men in blue uniforms. She nodded to him and then to Kalia. “We must find a safe place to work,” she said. “Hurry. We do not have much time.”
Tilting his head back, Tommy squinted at a building on the west side of the plaza. “The floors above the bookkeeper’s office,” he said. “That should do. If these things have any kind of intelligence, they’ll probably look to the inn for victims.”
“Let’s go.”
They ran to the bookkeeper’s door. Tommy was planning to use a Force-Source pin to break the lock, but jiggling the knob was enough to get the thing open. Inside, they found a small office with wooden desks and a clock on the wall.
The head clerk, a copper-skinned man with a ring of frizzy, gray hair around the back of his head, stood up with a huff. He was rather ostentatious in a purple, three-piece suit, and the pocket watch that he carried on a golden chain didn’t help matters. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.
“We need your office,” Tommy said.
“I beg your pardon.”
Tommy licked his lips, shut his eyes and cleared his mind of frustration, irritation and fear. “Forgive the intrusion, sir,” he pressed. “But I’m afraid we have no time to argue. And you don’t want to remain in this square, believe me.”
The man grunted, turning his face toward the large, front window. “Yes, there is some hubbub out there,” he muttered. “What is this all about?”
“The city is under attack,” Kalia said, stepping up to stand beside Tommy. “Take your staff and leave. Please.”
One of the clerks, a young woman in a white blouse who wore her brown hair up in a clip, ventured a glance out the window. “I think they’re right, Mr. Carson,” she said. “We should probably leave.”
Crossing his arms, Carson frowned at Tommy and his friends. “That may be,” he said. “But I don’t see why we should let you remain here. We have some very sensitive documents in this office.”
Nari came forward, tossing up a glowing, green coin and catching it with a deft hand. “Because we have the power to save this city,” she said. “Please, sir. We have no interest in your accounts.”
“I…Yes, perhaps we should go.”
It took barely two minutes for the clerks to file out the door, leaving Tommy, Nari and Kalia alone in the office. Once they were gone, he took charge. Someone had to. “Help me move those desks to block the door.” He didn’t want gray people getting in here while they were guiding the Ether.
He bent over the nearest desk and shoved it across the room, propping it up against the front door. Kalia and Nari did the same with another, creating a suitable barricade. That only left the window. No way to block that with desks.
Inspiration struck him.
Closing his eyes, Tommy made himself one with the Ether and began an Infusion, a Force-Sink that he placed into the metal latch that held the window shut. He gave
it a physical trigger. The Sink would activate if the latch was forced open, and anyone who tried to come through would be frozen in place. Even wrapped in the Ether’s embrace, Tommy would feel that, giving him plenty of warning.
It took almost two minutes for the lattice strands to thicken. During that time, Nari touched the Ether as well. She must have been wondering what he was up to. At long last, he broke off contact.
“Clever,” Nari said.
He nodded. “Thanks. Let’s get to work.”
Desa watched the blue-clad watchmen spreading out through the plaza, raising their rifles, ready to take a stand. No, this was no good at all. So many men. They would just get in her way.
The sergeant was practically choking up on his gun. He had his back to her, facing the road that led east out of the plaza. “Stand ready!”
Desa grimaced, shaking her head as she strode up to the man. “I need you to leave,” she told him in no uncertain terms. “Take your men and guard the neighbouring streets. I’ll hold the square.”
Whirling around to face her, the sergeant frowned. He was a tall man, skinny with pale skin and large, brown eyes. “Ma’am, with all due respect,” he began. “I’ve seen what you can do, but even you can’t hold this place alone.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
“But-”
She turned, gesturing to the stubby road that led westward out of the plaza, a road that ran for maybe fifty feet before intersecting with a crossing street. “They’ll try to come around and catch me from behind,” she said. “Keep them off my back.”
Before she could say another word, two watchmen aimed their rifles and fired into the East Road, scattering gray men who had tried to rush the plaza. Their bullets hit arms and shoulders, spilling black blood but doing no serious harm.
They did buy her a few moments, though. The half dozen gray beasts who had been trying to charge the plaza ducked into alleys. She saw even more coming, feral men and women who had been stripped of humanity, bloodlust shining in their dead, black eyes.
The sergeant groaned.
Desa stepped past the man, shouldering him out of the way. She retrieved a handful of coins from the pouch on her belt. “We don’t have time to debate this!” she growled. “Go! I’ll be fine!”
Gesturing to his men, the sergeant set them running down the narrow streets on the north and south sides of the plaza. He was quick to follow, venturing one last glance over his shoulder. He looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it.
Miri planted herself beside Desa with a revolver in hand, staring down the mass of oncoming enemies. “I’m fighting with you,” she said. “If anyone wants to hurt Lommy, they go through me.”
“No!” Desa barked. “I fight better alone.”
“But-”
“Trust me, Miri,” she pleaded. “I can’t be as effective if I have to worry about hitting you with the blast from an Electric-Source. Help the watchmen. Take Midnight with you. I don’t want him anywhere near this.”
The other woman hesitated a moment and then nodded. She gently took hold of Midnight’s bridle and guided him to the south side of the plaza. “I will do what I can to guard your back.”
“That’s all I ask.”
The horde kept coming up the East Road. She counted at least twenty. Some of those monsters broke away from the main group, running down side streets, perhaps in an attempt to surround Desa. She heard screams and gunfire to her left and her right.
Half a dozen gray men came charging into the square, lifeless ghouls that moved with eerie synchronicity. One was tall and bald with a scar on his cheek, another short and dark of skin. They paused for a moment, noting her presence, and then advanced.
Desa flung her hand out toward them, fingers uncurling, coins glittering as they tumbled through the air. And then she triggered the Force-Sources that she had Infused into every one, releasing multiple blasts of kinetic energy.
The six oncoming brutes were thrown backward, hurled out of the plaza and into the street. One by one, they landed on the cobblestones.
Footsteps behind her.
Desa drew her daggers.
Pulsing her Gravity-Sink, she jumped and back-flipped over the head of a gangly, gray man. She landed behind him and then stabbed him in the back. Pulling her knives free, she let the dead man fall to his knees.
More footsteps.
Desa twirled her right-hand dagger, catching it in a reverse-grip, the blade pointed downward. She stepped to the left and flung her arm out to the side, plunging the knife into some poor bastard’s throat.
She tore it free as the gray man stumbled past her, black ichor fountaining from the wound and spilling onto his shirt. He lost his footing and landed atop the corpse of his companion.
The first six were back on their feet, hissing and snarling at her. Once again, they ran into the square. She let them come. When they had closed half the distance, Desa triggered her Gravity-Sink.
She leaped, propelling herself over them, sailing across the plaza. Killing her Sink, she landed at the mouth of the street they had come from and then twisted around.
All six men had rounded on her.
They began another mad dash.
Tossing up her left-hand dagger, Desa caught the tip and then hurled it at them. It landed with a clatter in the middle of the plaza. She waited until all six of her enemies were almost on top of it. Then she triggered the Gravity-Source in the blade along with the Sink in her belt buckle.
Bodies fell to the ground, anchored by a force twice as strong as the Earth’s natural pull. Even the corpses were dragged across the cobblestones to join the pile. Buildings creaked. Small objects banged against nearby windows.
Sheathing the other knife, Desa drew her right-hand pistol. She cocked the hammer and then jumped, launching herself across the plaza.
As she flew over the pile of enemies, she pointed her gun downward and fired three rounds. Thunder split the air. Bullets ripped through gray flesh.
Killing both Source and Sink, Desa landed with a grunt. She twirled the gun around her index finger and then caught the grip.
A soft growl made her look up to find a gray woman perched on the slanted roof of a bakery. The stranger hissed, baring her teeth, and flung herself at Desa with a powerful leap.
Desa extended her hand, lining up a shot.
CRACK!
A hole appeared in the gray woman’s forehead, black goo trailing out from the back of her skull. The corpse landed with a thump and skidded across the cobblestones.
The men she had incapacitated with her Gravity-Source were starting to rise. Four of them, anyway. Some had been wounded by her bullets, their broken bodies unable to move. She had no idea why. The gangly man who had taken a blade through each lung was back on his feet. But the one she had stabbed through the throat was still down.
The bald man stepped forward despite a hole in his chest that leaked black fluid onto his shirt. But a smaller man with a shoulder wound refused to budge. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to it. Some of them reanimated after she put them down. Others didn’t. If she could just figure out what distinguished one from the other, she might be able to end this.
Four men stood in a line, each one as gray as a rock. The bald one snarled at her, black spittle flying from his lips. Two others flanked him: one short, the other notably skinny. The fourth was an old man with unruly, white hair. Despite his age, he moved just as nimbly as the others.
In unison, they charged.
Lifting her gun in one hand, Desa squinted as she took aim. CRACK! Her first shot pierced the shorter man’s chest, shattering his ribcage and dropping him to the ground. CRACK! Her next shot hit the skinny man’s knee. He fell flat on his face. Only two left. And she was out of bullets.
Desa holstered her pistol.
The bald man was bearing down on her, spreading his arms wide as if to wrap her up in a bear hug. He screamed.
Desa jumped, using her Gravity-Sink for extr
a height, and turned belly up in the air. She wrapped her legs around his neck, ankles locked. For half a second, she just hung off him like a dangling pendulum. Then she curled up and slammed her elbow down on his fat head.
The brute fell backward, landing with a groan. That gave her a chance to rise and run for the middle of the square. Her knife was still lying on the cobblestones, surrounded by fallen bodies. A blast of kinetic energy from her ring shoved the corpses aside. It also sent the dagger skittering away, costing her precious seconds.
The old man was right behind her.
Desa threw herself into a headlong dive, somersaulting over the pavement. She came up in a crouch, seized the fallen knife and quickly got to her feet.
When she turned, the old man was almost on top of her.
She backed away, pointing her dagger at him, narrowing her eyes to slits. “You do not want to do this.” Ignoring her warning, he kept coming.
Desa pulsed the Gravity-Source.
The old fool was yanked forward a few steps, and she rammed her blade up through the underside of his chin, into his skull. His eyes widened. Blood fountained from the wound as she withdrew the steel from his flesh.
His body fell to the ground, lying at her feet in a spreading pool of dark ichor. “Trying to reason with the dead,” Desa muttered. “I must be going mad.”
Miri stood on a narrow street that ran parallel to the East Road, blue-clad watchmen forming a line in front of her. They were all down on one knee, holding rifles, ready to stop the oncoming charge.
Over half a dozen grays were scrambling toward her, hissing and snarling like wolves that had been forced into a cage. They moved with incredible speed, feet pounding the pavement.
The watchmen fired.
Bullets tore through the grays. Bodies dropped to the ground, landing among the corpses of their fallen comrades. Remarkably, some of those poor souls began to rise again.
Miri felt her jaw drop, then shut her eyes and gave her head a shake. “Why?” she wondered aloud. “Why do some rise while others stay down?” She drew her belt knife, holding it in a reverse grip. If anyone got past that line of riflemen, she’d be ready.