Marlow

by Andy Briggs

  Her fingers probed the archway above and found a rim as wide as a windowsill. With aching arms, Marlow hauled herself onto a narrow ledge eighteen inches across, providing a safe perch to catch her breath. It offered a spectacular view into the unearthly arena beyond.

  The circular open-air amphitheatre soared forty storeys to jagged spires that twisted to the sky like demonic conical shells. Alcoves pitted the walls at random intervals around the structure, constructed with a chaotic design ethic in mind.

  Towards the base of the walls, the structure tiered inwards in an unusual bleacher formation, which was filled with human containment shards. A third of the arena was already covered in cocoons that, from Marlow's vantage point, resembled tiny brown pills. She estimated there were at least twenty thousand – which meant at least a quarter of the town was already here, stacked in small pyramids by the worker drones. This was all assessed in seconds as her gaze swept the arena towards the thing at the far end. Towering some ten storeys was the Darkmare. It was unmistakable.

  An ovoid creature dripped ooze and bile from pores the size of her head, however the stench was pleasant, like a field of violets. A mass of tentacles flapped from the main body and stretched like bungee cords. A huge mouth cleaved the stomach vertically, a million barbed teeth grinding together. A crown of spider-like eyes, as black as midnight, circled the mushroom-shaped head allowing it to see in all directions at one.

  As Marlow studied the horror she noticed puss-filled bulges around the Darkmare's base swelled and popped like wet blisters, Infiltrators fell out in a splash of fluid. Creatures of all shapes and sizes. Their limbs flailed like new-born calves as they struggled to find their feet, if they had any. It didn't take long for them to shake the amniotic fluid off their carapaces and become fully formed killers that scuttled from the arena. There were thousands of them.

  Marlow's heart sank. She tried to recall any useful nugget of information her father had shared... but all she could recall were the repetitive exercises of where to strike the Infiltrators to puncture their toughened skulls. Not terribly useful information when faced with an ever-increasing army of monstrosities.

  Then she noticed movement on an elevated dais, just behind the Darkmare. At first Marlow assumed it was another beast, but the shape stood out from the twisted surroundings. It was a boy. Marlow rubbed her eyes. She couldn't believe what she was seeing, but there was no mistaking it.

  It was Dan.

  Bryony's first instinct was to kick the door against the beast but it rebounded from the flopping rubbery limbs lunging inside, and a gnarled tusk protruding from the creature's jaw smashed through the double glazed window.

  Her feet slipped on the linoleum floor, made slicker by the snow melting off Boris's coat and the phlegm that spat from the Infiltrator's as it roared. Bryony was on her hands and knees as she pulled Boris towards the hallway. She was not a physically strong, but the need to protect her family provided all the strength she needed to make it to the next door.

  Slapping heavy tentacles chased them across the floor, each ending in tiny beaks that hungrily snapped for flesh. Luckily the back door was too small for the monster to press its bulk through.

  Once she had dragged Boris into the hallway she booted the door shut - so hard it severed a smaller tentacle. The limb exploded into slush as it hit the floor, staining the carpet a deep maroon. Standing, she could more easily drag her father into the living room and dropped him next to Dan, still happily slumbering on the couch.

  The kitchen door would provide little protection from the intruder, neither would the living room door, but she slammed it closed too. She rolled the reclining armchair against the living room door for good measure.

  She covered her ears to block out the crashing sounds from the kitchen and what sounded like the kitchen door splintering apart. She had to get out, but how? Boris was unconscious and Dan was still in a coma.

  The unmistakable sound of collapsing bricks came from the kitchen. The beast was demolishing the house. Then the dark room suddenly got darker. It took a second for Bryony to realise that the ambient light from outside was being blocked.

  Something was lurking beyond the window.

  She held her breath, worried that the faintest sound would attract more trouble. She held on to Marlow's comment that the Infiltrators wouldn't harm Dan, their Conduit was too precious. But they would have no qualms killing those around him.

  The shape outside the window didn’t move and curiosity got the better of her.

  Combating fear, she took a step towards the window. A shaking hand reached out for the curtain...

  Then, through the crack between the drapes, a blazing circular blue eye the size of a basketball appeared, and peered straight at her.

  Bryony was too terrified to scream, but she swore she heard the sound of her hair turning white with shock. The beast at the window gave a throaty click that rose in excitement like a runaway Geiger counter. Bryony instinctively stepped back, anticipating the window would shatter at any moment.

  They were trapped. Their fate was sealed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A dream... Marlow repeated over and over. Technically she was in a dream, well, a nightmare, but that meant unexpected things happened. Seeing Dan standing behind the nightmare laughing and talking to somebody she couldn’t quite make out, certainly fitted within that category.

  With a groan like an enormous empty stomach wambling, the Darkmare shifted position and a mass of limbs blocked her view of the kid. She crouched in the shadows and tried to plan her next move. Even as she watched, the Darkmare had birthed a dozen Infiltrators. Stalling just increased the odds against her.

  A dream... of course!

  The Dan she was looking at was his dream-form; what the mind formed when it went Astral Walking in Innerspace. Marlow hated the hokey term, but couldn’t think of one better - it was Dan’s astral projection acting out the dream he was having. Perhaps Marlow wasn’t so alone over here? Judging by the way the Darkmare kept him close, he was pretty important here too.

  Marlow scrambled down the archway’s tiers, into the arena. The uneven surface provided plenty of hand and toeholds, and the shadows provided cover, so it wasn’t until he had reached the sloping tiers, with their aisles of prisoner cocoons, did Marlow remember the Infiltrators could just as easily see in the dark.

  Dammit, concentrate! She thumped the palm of her hand against her forehead to reinforce the point. She had made a career out of being sloppy and now was not the time to continue.

  She readied the blunderbuss, unlocking the ancient safety catch which she was never sure worked anyway, just in case she ran nose-to-labrum into one of the critters.

  The cocoons towered above her, some twenty layers high - much taller than they had seemed from her earlier vantage point. Opaque forms could be seen inside, thrashing in their own private hells. Suppressing a chill, Marlow ran to the end of one aisle and crouched behind the pyramids. Now she could see the Darkmare was positioned on a raised dais in the centre.

  The increasing pile of cocoons stretched a hundred more yards, and the Infiltrator drones were busy at the far end of, stacking yet more bodies. Even without their presence, it wasn’t a clear run. The floor leading to the dais spouted corkscrewing stalagmites that glinted in the source-less light. Closer scrutiny revealed they were slowly growing. Wet resin seeped out of the top like candle wax and oozed down the spiralling slopes. It pooled across the floor. A puddle was inching towards Marlow from the nearest spire and it smelled vaguely like... like baking bread.

  She checked nothing was watching, then reached across and tapped her index finger in the leading edge of the puddle. It stuck. She pulled hard, but still her finger remained steadfastly secure.

  “Dammit!” muttered Marlow. She should have known better. The Infiltrators used sweet smells to beguile their victims. The liquid surrounding the Darkmare was like flypaper sticky enough to trap anybody foolish enough to venture near. She leaned b
ack and pulled, throwing her weight into it. There was a terrible crack as the bones in her index finger dislocated - and a jolt of pain shot through her hand. It was all she could do not to cry out in excruciating agony.

  Then she heard the unmistakable clicking of insectoid legs approaching from the adjacent aisle.

  Marlow leaned forward just enough to firmly grip her finger with her free hand to prevent the bones from dislocating any further. She pulled hard. Tears welled in her eyes as skin tore. She fell back, and couldn't stop the yelp of pain as she held her throbbing red index. The epidermis had been torn away, leaving just an almost transparent coating of skin. She could see the blood beneath. The pain was akin to torture and almost made her pass out.

  An Infiltrator suddenly stepped from around the stack. It had its back to Marlow as it inspected the viscous liquid. Marlow slowly crawled backward, the pain in her finger suddenly forgotten. She kept her eyes on the creature, her other hand reaching for the blunderbuss... where was it? She must have dropped it when she toppled backward.

  Marlow pushed firmly against one of the cocoons in a desperate attempt to blend in. She was thankful that the monster didn't have a good sense of hearing.

  She became acutely aware that there was a shuddering human arm inches from her face, visible through the transparent cocoon. Fresh meat imprisoned in transparent coffins and stacked like cans in a–

  The Infiltrator bellowed. With the distraction, Marlow hadn't seen it turn towards her, head cocking like a curious dog to see if she was a threat or not. This critter most resembled an eight-foot tall praying mantis with a long centipede body and dozens of legs, snaking behind it. A pair of fat forearms looked like inflated boxing gloves and a triplet of dangling trunks from its head wriggled as they probed ahead.

  Marlow yanked the baseball bat from her waist and swung it threateningly as the monster-spurred forwards. The beast raised an arm to defect the blow and the wood shattered in half. Marlow gasped in surprised. She’d had the bat since childhood; a staunch defence from everything that had loomed in the darkness. The attack had made the Infiltrator pause for several seconds allowing her to scuttle backwards. Her hand touched something metallic and cool: the blunderbuss.

  The mantis was still several feet away as she swung the gun around and squeezed the trigger. The moment her sore fingertip touched the stiff trigger a sharp pain shot through her hand and she dropped the weapon.

  She groped to retrieve it as the mantis thumped its forearms together. What Marlow had whimsically thought of as boxing gloves sounded like a wet bell tolling and a wave of air shimmered white as it rolled towards her. The sound wave struck like a wrecking ball, lifting Marlow clean off her feet and throwing her a dozen yards. Her hearing was replaced by the high-pitch squeal of tinnitus.

  She had no time for pain. The shock wave had slid her gun closer. She reached for it and missed - her sense of balance was all messed up.

  The mantis surged forwards, readying its arms for another volley of audio death.

  Marlow lunged for the blunderbuss, remembering to fire it with her other hand as she squeezed the trigger. The boom was deafening, but her aim was true.

  A cloud of pellets erupted from the blunderbuss's conical barrel - shredding the fiend’s abdomen in a gory splatter of blue Infiltrator blood. The creature's torso was severed clean off the body. As it fell the lower body scuttled in a circle before flipping onto its back, legs still kicking.

  “Don't mess with the meat,” snarled Marlow.

  As if in response, the mantis gave a final clap of its arms. Another shockwave burst forth, but this one was weaker than the first and missed Marlow. Instead, it impacted into the pod just behind her, shattering the resin. The cocoons balanced on top were blown from the stack and the entire structure shook.

  “Aw, crap...”

  The shuddering pile collapsed like an avalanche, and several hundred cocoons suddenly surged towards her. Marlow dodged past the Infiltrator's severed torso and leapt over the jerking legs in her haste to escape. She ran for her life, gun in one hand. She just had time to figure out the next two looming problems - one: the sticky sap pools lay ahead, and two: she was too unfit to outrun the pursuing landslide of cocooned humans.

  Bryony pitched to the floor and crawled on her elbows to reach Dan's side. The sounds of destruction from the kitchen escalated as the rest of the external wall collapsed across the sink. Outside the window there was increasing hints of excited movements, but nothing more defined than black against black. It was just a matter of time before the beasts broke in.

  She cradled Dan's head in her lap and considered her choices. Marlow had been adamant that the monsters wouldn't harm Dan, they needed to protect him, which made her and Boris a threat.

  She kicked her father with her foot. “Wake up,” she hissed as loud as she dared. He didn't respond; the ceramic snowman must have packed a hell of a punch. She had often wondered how her son developed such a terrible ability. Discovering it was genetic made her furious. Yet, she could only blame herself for ignoring the problem for so long. She had hoped Dan would outgrow the phase just like many kids stopped wetting the bed. But her son’s issues had extended from bed wetting, to tearing furniture apart, through to mass invasion and the possible extinction of mankind. That put things in perspective.

  Dan grunted, agitation twisted his face and he twitched in his sleep. She wondered what he was dreaming about. His forehead was coated in a glaze of sweat; she should wake him. Maybe waking him would dispel the monsters closing in on them... but at what risk? Would the shock of suddenly waking kill him? Or was that an old wives tale?

  Another section of wall collapsed in the kitchen followed by a gelatinous sound. Bryony imagined that the beast was oozing into the house. Her suspicions were confirmed with scratching on the living room door. Time was running out.

  “Dan, wake up!” she gave him a sharp nudge. “Snap out of it! You need to wake up right now, mister, or we're all going to die! Dan? Can you hear me?” Fear was overtaking caution and she shook him with increasing vigour. Dan spluttered, his lips twisting as if in response... but he replied only with a trail of drool from the corner of his mouth as he rolled onto his side with a whimper.

  The living room door shook as it was prodded from behind. Bryony looked around helplessly. She was trapped, defenceless and alone.

  She was going to die.

  The surge of capsules striking Marlow was made worse by the rib she had bust. The resin cases had a plastic feel to them that absorbed some of the impact but there was nothing she could do to avoid them as they bounced around her in every direction.

  She was struck from all angles. A blow to the back of her legs flipped sent her head-over-heels, and she landed across several pods. They rolled underneath her, effectively surfing her over the sticky pools that didn’t seem to adhere to the cocoons. The chaos drew the attention of a hundred-or-so Infiltrators milling around the coliseum.

  With constant impacts from every direction, Marlow ricocheted between the pods and was deposited on the dais at the foot of the Darkmare. Everything ached as she lay on her back, gazing up at the towering goliath. The beast stopped spawning its vile brethren and its head angled to stare at her. Tentacles thrashed in outrage that an intruder had got so far and it emitted a chilling squeal - literally. Marlow had often flippantly told people how the Infiltrators made the blood run cold, but in this case frost formed over her exposed skin and the gelid atmosphere stung her hand and face, as her body temperature plummeted.Marlow swayed to her feet and looked frantically around for her gun. Then she reached for her katana – but her hand met only empty space. It must have slid from its sheath during the multiple impacts.

  The spawning pores across the Darkmare irritably bubbled and frothed but no newly formed Infiltrator spewed out. The Darkmare seemed to hesitate as its army of Infiltrators, a vast array of shapes, sizes and appendages, stopped their tasks and silently observed. It was a tense stand-off, but Marlow couldn’t
figure out what the Darkmare was waiting for.

  She spotted her blunderbuss on the edge of the platform; precariously hanging over the sea of gloop and fallen cocoons - at the same time she caught a muffled conversation from behind the Darkmare. Dan emerged, talking to the figure Marlow had seen from afar, who was till obscured behind the nightmare.

  “Marlow?” said Dan uncertainly.

  Marlow was cautious. She recalled fragments of her father's ramblings about Astral Walkers and wished she’d paid more attention now that her life depended on it. Walkers were the person's subconscious although, through Dan's eyes, he was in a wonderful dream filled with colour and life, rather than the bleak horrors that surrounded him. Dan wouldn't be seeing things correctly. In addition his own memories would validate the surreal world around him, allowing the dreamer to accepted the new reality. Or so Marlow had read. Because she was unable to dream it was very difficult to know what Dan was experiencing, so wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. It could be like talking to a stranger. She decided to be herself - no, wait - that would be disastrous. She would try to be the version of herself she longed to be.

  She forced a smile. “Hey, Dan. Good to see you... here.” Dan's brow furrowed, his eyes scanning Marlow with suspicion. “You remember your old pal, right?” Marlow prompted.

  The look of mistrust on Dan's face deepened. “How can you be here?”

  Aware of the hordes of killers around him, and the Master of Nightmares looming above, Marlow strained every muscle until it hurt to smile. “Oh I was just wandering past and saw ya. Thought it was time to take you home to your mother.”

  Dan took a step back. Something was clearly amiss. He looked to the figure behind the Darkmare. “I don't want to go with her. I want to stay here with you.”