by Chris Fox
“You’re as clever as your files suggest. Yeah, I’m intensely curious about you. The carrot of knowledge is very effective, especially when you’re offering it for free. Impress me, Gregg.”
“Fair enough. Isis, Osiris—pretty much everything Mohn could field—assaulted the First Ark, alongside a bunch of other gods. I’m sure you’ve seen the crater left in London.”
“In England, you mean,” David corrected. He gestured, and a holographic map appeared. It was Earth’s near orbit, and they were looking at Europe. The French coastline looked familiar, but what had been southern England was now an archipelago of little islands.
“Holy crap. We took out a third of England.” Even knowing it was mostly populated by the dead, Trevor was horrified. He’d participated in something bigger than America dropping the atomic bomb. That was what it had taken to stop Set.
“What happened to Osiris?” David asked.
“So far as I know, he died. Osiris, Isis, and Ra challenged Set. He was far stronger, and they knew they were going to lose that fight, but they did it to divert his attention while the rest of us detonated the First Ark.” Trevor paused. “I know that makes us look bad, but trust me when I say it was the only way to stop Set.”
“We’ve always wondered what caused the explosion. Osiris founded Project Solaris. We could use the old bastard’s help, more than ever. I’m not sure we can win without it.” David’s already somber expression grew somehow more dire.
“Excuse my temerity in speaking,” Irakesh said, raising a hand timidly, “but win which war, exactly?”
Trevor had forgotten how well Irakesh played servile when he wanted to.
“I’m asking the questions, for now at least. Cooperate, and we’ll do the same. Where have you been for the last five years?”
David’s gaze was focused on Irakesh, allowing Trevor to study their captor a little more closely. A bewildering array of signals continued to flow from him to the station. Trevor had experienced something similar when he’d bonded to the Ark, something that required him to possess an access key. How was this guy doing the same thing? Was he another Ark Lord? Who or what was he? He wasn’t a werewolf or a deathless.
“Of course, of course,” Irakesh said. He gave his most cultured smile, which didn’t seem to move David. “Trevor, perhaps you should explain, since anything that comes out of my mouth will be mistrusted.”
“I’m happy to, but can I ask a question first?” Trevor asked.
“All right,” David said, giving a noncommittal shrug.
“We’re in an orbital facility right? A satellite created by the Builders?”
“We call it the Black Knight Satellite,” David explained. His eyes narrowed. “That’s all I’m willing to share.”
“It’s enough,” Trevor said, struggling to contain his excitement. “I read conspiracy rumors on the internet, before the end. They talked about two satellites that had been orbiting Earth for thousands of years. This place proves those legends were right.”
“I’m glad to see you’re well read, and that your reputation as a scientist seems to be accurate,” David allowed. He gave an almost friendly smile. “Now then, you were going to bring me up to speed on your arrival here.”
“All right, but you guys might want to grab some chairs. This is going to take a few hours. Are you familiar with temporal spacial dislocation?”
13
Alicia
Liz couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this frightened. The fear she’d felt when fighting Set had been close, but the idea of seeing Alicia again terrified her in a way even the monsters she’d battled couldn’t inspire.
“Do you think she’ll remember us?” Liz whispered to Blair. Bright moonlight showed a cracked driveway leading toward a house big enough to qualify as a mansion. Candles could be seen through a few windows, but for the most part the house was dark.
“She’ll remember.” Blair seemed certain. An ever-growing pack of dogs trailed behind him, the bold ones occasionally darting up to sniff him briefly.
The Whelp. It’s the Whelp. The Whelp has come.
Dozens of voices washed over her, and she slowed her pace, struggling to make sense of them all.
It is the packmind, Wepwawet explained. In time you will adjust. Whenever we are near a pack of significant size a packmind is born, so long as a Ka-Dun exists to control it. Each member of a packmind can communicate their emotions and thoughts with the others.
“You can hear it, too?” Blair asked. He seemed a little surprised.
“Are they talking about you when they say ‘whelp’?” Liz asked, trying to suppress a smile.
“Of course.” He sighed, starting up the driveway again. “I don’t know how they know, but I’m betting someone told them that’s what Isis called me. Why couldn’t I be the Douche Slayer, or Blair the Handsome?”
Liz’s smile became a laugh. “Douche Slayer it is. Anyone who ever met Steve will hail you as a hero.”
John Rivers lurked a few dozen paces ahead, next to the front door. He’d graciously given them space during the trip, though she had no doubt that he’d been able to hear every word they said. She didn’t mind; they weren’t divulging state secrets or anything.
Liz tensed as John opened the door and stepped inside. Blair followed, leaving her no choice but to do the same. Her feet resisted, demanding she bolt. She forced herself into movement, holding her breath as she entered.
The house was spacious, and looked even more so because it was completely devoid of furniture. A pile of blankets lay in one corner, but that was it. The place appeared empty, but her enhanced hearing made out the sounds of combat out back.
“If you’ll follow me, please.” John seemed unconcerned, so Liz nodded. John walked to a large sliding glass door, sliding it back and stepping onto a wooden deck.
The view was breathtaking. The moonlight painted the rolling hillsides white, showing her all of Santa Rosa. Familiar suburbia radiated out from a small downtown area. There weren’t any lights, but she could hear hundreds of heartbeats below.
“I really missed this view,” Blair said, joining her on the deck.
“Did you use to live here?”
“God, no.” Blair laughed and gave a self-deprecating smile. She loved the way his smile brightened his face. It took away some of the weight she’d seen accumulate during their time together. “I couldn’t afford to live in Fountaingrove. But I remember when these houses were built. They did a showing, and I wanted to see how the other half lived. I loved the view so much that I’d sometimes park up the road a little ways. There was a Carl’s Jr. right across Highway 101, so I’d grab dinner and come park up here to watch the sun set.”
“Eww.” Liz crinkled her nose. “It’s amazing you survived to the apocalypse eating that much grease.”
The sounds of combat were louder. Hearing a female yell followed by a deep grunt, Liz walked to the edge of the deck and looked down at the yard below. Two women—an unremarkable housewife in her mid-thirties and a hard-eyed teen—were sparring. The housewife had just thrown the teen to the ground, but the teen flipped back to her feet with enviable grace. Midnight hair fluttered out behind her, and the moonlight caught her face.
Liz knew her instantly. Alicia’s skinny frame had filled out, and she was taut with muscle. Hard lines framed her young eyes. The innocence had been burned out of her.
“The older woman is Kathy,” John Rivers explained. He spoke quietly, as if not wanting to intrude. “She teaches Alicia to fight, though some might argue it’s the other way around.”
Alicia looked up, eyes widening when they met Liz’s. Then they tightened. Alicia waved a hand at Kathy, and the woman gave a quick nod. She melted into the shadows, leaving them in private.
“You know, I didn’t really believe. I couldn’t. I thought the only way you could have been gone was that you were dead.” Alicia’s legs tensed, and she leapt the distance from the yard to the deck in a single smooth arc. She l
anded lightly a few feet from Liz. She was now tall enough to look Liz in the eye. “I guess I was wrong. You weren’t dead—you abandoned us.”
“Abandoned?” It was all Liz could get out. Her heart broke for Alicia. “I get that it looks that way. We up and leave, and don’t come back for five years. But—”
“Here it comes.” Alicia’s sneer made her suddenly ugly. “I knew there would be a but. But we had to fight some big monster. But we had to save the world. But, but, but. What about us? You abandoned us. Almost everyone died—did you know that? Seven out of ten people on that island died the night the deathless came for us.”
“You’re right,” Liz replied. The simple admission was freeing. “We left, and didn’t come back. The reasons don’t matter. We abandoned you. I’m so sorry, Alicia. I know nothing can ever make that right.”
“You’re right about that,” Alicia snapped. Gathered tears made her eyes shine. “Nothing will ever make it right. You can’t fix this, Liz. You can’t bring back the dead; you can only fight them.”
“I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through, what you must have overcome to have survived this long. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”
“I don’t believe you,” Alicia said, but a hint of hope lurked there.
“You don’t have to believe me,” Liz said. “I understand that trust will take time.” She took a step closer, offering her hands to Alicia. The teen took them. “Let’s use this packmind. Show me what happened. Then I’ll show you why Blair and I couldn’t come back sooner.”
Alicia’s mouth opened to speak, but she hesitated. Her eyes were searching, and Liz felt like there was a chance, a crack in the wall this poor young woman had been forced to build.
“Fine. If you’re serious, then I can show you. The packmind will only pass impressions, but your Ka-Dun can share the memories between the three of us.” Alicia nodded at Blair, who’d been standing silently against the rail a few feet away.
“Liz?” Blair asked. He placed a supportive hand on her shoulder. She loved him for that, and a million other reasons just like it.
“Do it. I want to see what she went through.”
14
Angel Island
Alicia awoke with a start, sitting up inside the dome tent. She touched the top to find the fabric wet to the touch. It must be after midnight. What had awakened her? It wasn’t her bladder, which was the usual cause.
A muffled scream came from near the docks, until it was abruptly cut off.
Alicia hurriedly unzipped the tent, ducking into the chill night. Thick fog had covered the island, as it did every night. It was the perfect time for an ambush—even she knew that, and she was only ten. Gun shots stuttered, tearing apart the night with brief flashes. Those same flashes also came from the docks.
A generator roared to life, then another. All over the island, floodlights sprang to life, giving some definition to the fog. She could see shapes now—trees and people, and probably worse.
Alicia knew what she had to do. This was why she’d accepted the gift from the Mother: to defend her people. Mostly she hadn’t done anything yet, though. She was still learning to use her abilities, still learning to fight.
Erik wouldn’t let her anywhere near a battle like this, but he wasn’t here to tell her no. She was going to get involved. It was time to help save people, whether they liked it or not. Alicia shifted, her t-shirt splitting at the seams. Oh, well. She hadn’t much liked it anyway.
Alicia hadn’t learned how to use the shadows yet, but she was still pretty sneaky. She crept closer to the commotion, trying to figure out who was attacking, and maybe why. Several dozen figures moved in the mist around the docks, but there was no sign of any boat. They must have come out of the water. Hmm. Alicia used her claws to scale the pine tree she’d been crouching next to, and she scanned the mist on other sides of the island.
“Oh, no,” she whispered. “I have to warn them.”
Alicia dropped to the ground, sprinting between trees as she headed toward the summit. She sucked in a breath, yelling as loud as she could. “They’re on the south shore! Hundreds of them. They’re coming up behind us. We have to run.”
A stern voice spoke in her mind. Alicia. You must be quiet, or the notdeads will find you.
A large shape trotted out of the mist. Yukon’s golden fur was drenched. His wet scent was powerful, familiar, and comforting.
“We have to help them.”
No, Yukon replied, the single word carrying more mental force than he’d ever used with her. We must flee. We can only save a few. We will head to where the sun sets, then swim across the cold water. We can go north. There are hills there, where we can hide.
“But so many of these people will die. Erik can—”
No. Yukon bared his fangs, growling. Erik battles the notdeads. He slows them, so that his death can save his pack. But he will not survive.
“I have to help him.” Alicia turned, sprinting toward the docks. Erik would be where the fighting was hottest. He was their strongest male; with the Mother gone, putting him in charge made sense.
Not that anyone had asked her opinion.
Please. Yukon’s sending was softer now, further away. He hadn’t followed her. If you go down there, I will lose you, too. Please. We have to save what we can. We have to live. We have to be there when she comes back.
Alicia slowed her pace, suddenly unsure what to do. She could see the dock clearly now, could smell the gunpowder and blood. Could smell the faint decay carried by the deathless.
Then she caught a whiff of Erik. Her ears went erect, and she strained to find him. Finally she spotted him, fighting a trio of deathless by the docks. He clutched his side, blood leaking through his fingers as he bared his fangs at his opponents. Several bodies lay near his feet.
One of the deathless lunged, and Erik’s entire demeanor shifted in the literal blink of an eye. He blurred faster than Alicia could track, seizing the deathless’s head between his furry hands. Then he tore, ripping the head from its shoulders. The deathless toppled to the ground, and both its companions backpedaled. They’d realized that Erik’s weakness was a ruse.
A short Asian woman strode out of the mist. She held some sort of gun, cradling it tightly in both hands. The weapon barked, and a stream of thunderous slugs tore into Erik’s unprotected back. He staggered forward, already turning to face the woman. He blurred, but she blurred, too. The Asian woman’s arm came up and a cloud of dazzling green light burst over Erik. Erik screamed, tearing at his skin. It burned and bubbled, and he writhed in agony.
We are leaving. Yukon’s voice was forceful again, and his mouth settled over her arm. The teeth dug in enough to hurt, and he dragged her back toward the northern shore.
Alicia clung to his fur, unable to stop the tears. They rushed past several dozen people who were fleeing into the water.
“I can help these people,” she said, forcing herself forward. She wiped at her eyes, composing herself, and raised her voice. “Gather around me. We’re going to swim together. I’ll be there to help people get across.”
“Where are we going to go, kid?” an old woman asked, scowling at her. “This place was supposed to be safe. The land outside is even worse.”
Pay her no mind, Ka-Ken. You are a champion, and your age matters not.
The beast was right. She wasn’t just a little girl. She was a werewolf, and she could help these people. “If you want to stay here, you do that, lady. Anyone who wants to live, get in the water. We’re getting out of here.”
15
Yukon
Blair quietly slipped through the still-open sliding glass door, gently closing it behind him. Liz and Alicia sat huddled together on the pile of blankets in the corner, deep in quiet conversation. He didn’t want to intrude on the moment, so he gave them what privacy he could.
It is a bitter thing, Ka-Dun, his beast rumbled. Being a champion requires difficult choices and many sacrifices. The young alwa
ys struggle the most with such things.
“Yeah, poor kid has been through a lot. But she’s also accomplished a lot.” Blair stared out at Santa Rosa, still trying to adjust to the lack of lights. The CME had knocked this place back to pre-industrial revolution technology, for the most part. There were no working cars, at least that he’d seen. No working electricity of any kind. It was the polar opposite of San Francisco.
Goldenfur comes, a small canine voice thought at him through the packmind.
Goldenfur, repeated another.
The packmind buzzed with a dozen overlapping voices. Goldenfur. He comes.
Blair shifted almost without thinking, using his muzzle to search for scents. The dogs sensed something, and seemed more excited than alarmed. Their tones were respectful, and in some cases awed. Perhaps it was another Ka-Dun—whomever had assumed control of the truly massive pack that seemed to be roaming Sonoma County.
He comes, the voices chorused.
A four-legged figure flashed in the moonlight, bounding across the freeway in a slow blur. A cloud of dogs flowed silently in the leader’s wake, fanning out to all sides. There was a rightness to the pack, and part of Blair longed to join it, to seize control of it.
The figure bounded closer still, crossing Industrial and starting up the hill to Fountaingrove. As it approached, Blair could sense the power radiating from it. The scent was familiar.
Could it be? He didn’t dare get his hopes up.
Golden fur flashed up the hillside below, cutting across the grass. It blurred closer, finally landing on the balcony next to him.
Blair shifted back to human form, seizing the massive golden retriever in a hug. “Yukon, you have no idea how good it is to see you.” He buried his face in Yukon’s fur, grinning as the dog’s tail thumped against his leg.
