by D P Wright
“Back down below, that rather fragile officer seemed to think you were his superior. Don’t you find that rather odd?”
“Not particularly.”
“And why would he think that? No offence, but you do not have the cold, clean-cut air of a council official about you.”
Kessler’s focus remained on the knife. After a few quiet moments he spoke. “He noticed my sidearm.”
“Ah yes. It’s a particularly beautiful plasma carbine if I may say. I have not seen one quite like it, the way the light sparkles off the polished chrome plate. Expensive. Very.”
Kessler found a piece of cloth and began to wipe the blade, “No, you wouldn’t have seen it before. They’re only given to a particular type of citizen, someone who the Council entrust to…” the words caught in his mouth, “…anyway it was a long time ago.”
“It certainly was,” Doc sighed as he spoke.
Beck nodded, “It seems that we all have our secrets. Our darker side.”
The group became lost in their thoughts as they drank water and ate rations. The electrical storm continued to rage and the white heat continued to press against them. Beck had just finished drinking from a hydration pouch when he rose suddenly to his feet and peered off into the distance. “What was that?”
Both Doc and Kessler squinted through the flash of light towards the horizon. Eventually Doc spoke, “You are seeing things. There is nothing there.”
“No. There, in the distance.”
Doc squinted, “No, nothing.” He turned to Beck as the light faded again, “Either the heat or chems are making you see things, playing tricks with your mind.”
“I didn’t say that I seen anything. My eyes are not used to these flashes of light, more at home in the darkness of D2. However, the glare does not affect my hearing which is quite excellent.”
Doc looked at Kessler who had now raised himself and was standing by Beck straining to see. Doc spoke, his voice wavering slightly, “What do you hear?”
“Just behind the static from the storm, I can make out…” Beck listened in silence before sitting back down. He began to mumble to himself and rub his neck nervously.
“What!” Kessler barked aloud in frustration.
“The noise that I have heard many times and dreaded so very much these past few months. The clatter of claws on the hard floor, the skittering noise from vicious maws. The Seekers are here. We’re finished.” Beck began to sob.
“I cannot see them. They must be some distance away, surely they have not spotted us?” Doc’s voice wavered.
“You don’t understand doctor. The Seekers do not see, they cannot see. All they have is their great snouts from which they can catch the scent of any soul, be it good or bad.”
“Souls! I am sick of hearing this talk. Impossible.” Doc shouted.
“Wait, the light has faded enough, I can see them. They are coming towards us. Fast.”
Kessler climbed atop an outcrop and peered through his viewfinder at tiny black dots in the distance, “He’s right. There’s a group of them, maybe three or four. They seem to be moving quickly then stopping every so often.”
“We should leave Mr Kessler, now. Quickly. Perhaps they have not caught our scent yet.” Beck pulled at Kessler’s trouser leg. “Please, sir.”
“Go where? There is only a lot of empty space between here and the furnace town. We can’t outrun them, certainly not in these suits, in this heat.” The dots began to slowly form into the feral beast last seen at The Crow’s Nest, bounding on all fours, purple cloaks billowing behind them, only pausing to plunge their snouts into one of the many piles of bodies which littered the landscape.
“Please, Mr Kessler let’s hurry.” Beck whimpered.
Doc jumped down from the rocks, “I agree with the Mute, we should leave.”
“Ok. We’ll move quickly, staying close to the escarpment for as long as we can.”
Beck picked up his bag and began to run, “Move or we are doomed, for sure.”
Both Doc and Kessler followed the panicked Beck, moving as fast as they could, staying close to the shimmering black escarpment, lit up intermittently by the tempest raging above. It was difficult to breathe as they tried to move quickly in their cumbersome suits. Kessler’s thoughts cut through his frantic mind as images of Macy appeared before him. He hoped that she had stayed away from the office like he had told her to do and avoided Little Chi. Then there was Bethany. Kessler remembered the first time he had seen her, a trembling, timid bag of nerves wet through from the rain. Her green eyes bursting with anger and passion. He wondered if her faith and love in her god were still intact wherever she was right now, that is if she was still alive. He gritted his teeth and ignored the feeling of despair and tried to rid the images from his mind. He stumbled and had to quickly readjust his stride to prevent him from falling flat on his face. He picked up his pace, overtaking Doc, his strides re-energised by a renewed, desperate urgency.
Soon they slowed and eventually stopped altogether, both Doc and Kessler collapsing, gasping for air. It was impossible to keep up the pace. Their bodies ached and their chests heaved as they strained desperately to get oxygen into their lungs. Sweat flowed freely from Kessler’s brow and his throat was cracked dry. He took a drink of water, most of it spilling down his face in his desperation to get the fluid into his body, “Careful Kes, we need to make sure it lasts.” Kessler was too tired to reply and only nodded between hacking coughs.
Beck stood with his back to them, worryingly looking into the haze as Doc spoke, “Take some water, Beck.”
“Sirs, they have picked up our scent. They’re coming, we’re done for.” The innkeeper sat down and whimpered to himself. Tears now flowing down his still swollen face.
“Then we must hurry.” Doc pulled at Beck to move.
“No,” Kessler’s voice croaked and wheezed, “we stand and fight. We’ve beaten them before, we can do it again. How long before they reach us?”
“Not long,” Beck whined.
Doc steadied himself atop a large rock, aimed his Lazarus rifle at them. He peered down its scope, “They are still too far out for me to hit but are catching us quickly.” He twisted a dial on his sights, “They are different than the ones from before, they seem bigger.”
“Fire as soon as they come into range.”
Beck, slouched against the escarpment behind both Doc and Kessler, looked away from the approaching Seekers towards Acheron. He spoke slowly, “The last few months in Baron’s Town were terrible, people dying, howling, screaming. Even the noise of the rain couldn’t hide that wretched sound.”
Kessler looked briefly back at Beck before returning his attention to the Seekers, “Don’t think about it.”
Beck continued, “Those that disappeared, rumour had it that it was a most terrifying death awaited them down in the furnace. I, I…” he stuttered, and began to sob, “there was nothing anyone could do. Just wait for the inevitable, all alone. We locked the doors, latched the windows but it was no good, they came and went as they pleased in amongst the shadows. After months of waiting, thinking about how it would all end, the mind does play tricks.” Beck turned to look back at those chasing them, “When they eventually did come for me I quite happily offered my assistance, it is amazing what someone will do to survive.”
Kessler stared at the innkeeper, “We’ve all had to do questionable things to survive this place. Do what we all do. Fight. Live.”
“I gladly helped them find those unfortunate people, I’m sorry to say. ” He sighed, “Your friend Jimmy was right, I was trustworthy once,” Beck spoke forlornly, “my reputation was widely known throughout Downtown, someone whose door was always open to those needing a place to stay, to hide, or whatever. No questions asked.” Beck chuckled, “Anything anyone wanted, I could get, just like that,” he clicked his fingers to emphasise his point, “I truly am sorry for how I’ve treated your good selves, and that poor girl that you were travelling with, she seemed like a good citi
zen. Had a good soul, I could see it in her eyes.” He put his head in his hands, “They’ll appreciate that, I’m afraid.” He sobbed. “Mr Kessler, in a way I’m glad your arrival disrupted proceedings, I’m so tired and so sorry for what I’ve done.” He trembled, “They’re nearly upon us. I can hear their incessant chatter.”
As the beasts’ howls reached Kessler’s ears he powered up his Luther and Beck closed his eyes. The detective pointed towards their pursuers, “Doc, try and take out as many as you can.”
Doc took aim and squeezed the trigger. The power of his rifle produced a vicious recoil but he quickly composed himself and returned to his aiming position, “The group of four is now three.” He focused again, getting ready for another shot when all three remaining creatures disappeared from view. He pulled away from his scope and peered back again. Nothing. “I got one, but the rest just disappeared.”
Beck whimpered, “The shadows.”
As the light faded again between the storm’s explosions Doc and Kessler looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. All three Seekers appeared behind them and launched themselves at the stunned party. In a frenzied few seconds of howls, claws and bites all three were overcome by the ferocity of the attack. Kessler was immediately brought down hard to the ground as one of the beasts threw its full weight onto him. Its face was thick with scales which gleamed black as if they were born from the very rock itself. Claws hacked through his suit and tore at his skin. The creature pressed its face close to his, its sickly sweet breath making him retch into his vent. Its open mouth filled with jagged, sharp fangs was just inches from his face as it snarled and snapped. Kessler tried to shift his weight onto the creature but its strength was too great and again it was able to pin him against the floor. It took a moment to sniff his torso, slowly making its way up to his neck, then his face. Its nostrils flared on its long pointed snout. Kessler tried to bring his Luther to bear but was pinned fast, his other arm flailing weakly at the beast. The Seeker stretched out atop of him, paused for a moment as its beady, lifeless eyes bore into him, before lunging for his chest. The detective’s body jerked and pulled in a fit of movement as the beast’s fangs ripped into him. Through his screams he desperately looked around for any hope, anything that might give him a chance. The beast jerked its bloody maw up into the air and arced its back to tower above him. It bellowed a vicious howl and just in that moment, as everything seemed to grind into slow motion, the screams, wails and roars all disappearing, Kessler, as a thunder from above brought more light, caught a flash in the corner of his eye. Through tears and the blurred vision of agony he caught a glimpse of another sparkle. Bethany’s cross. It lay a couple of feet to his left, half hanging out of his bag. Sound and movement came flooding back as, in a blur, the detective’s free arm grabbed hold of the bag and just as the Seeker’s fangs came down on him he shoved it into its open mouth.
It tore it to shreds and howled in pain as it rolled off of him. Kessler staggered up as a scream shrieked from somewhere behind him. He raised his plasma carbine and took quick aim at the Seeker who was now on its four clawed feet, getting ready to jump back into the fray. He blasted two holes into its torso, the plasma exploding on impact, causing the creature to slump to the ground in a smoking, bloody mass.
Another scream drew Kessler’s attention to Doc who was pinned against the escarpment by a huge Seeker that swung its claws wildly. Kessler flew feet first, landing on top of it and in one swift motion pressed the still hot chrome plate of his Luther against the shiny scaled face of the monster. A quick squeeze of the trigger brought an explosion of blood, guts and a putrid stench.
Kessler struggled to get up, his head spinning. He looked down at the bloody mess that was his chest to see blood pumping out of an open, angry tear. Doc was now beside him, supporting him with his arm. The final Seeker walked towards them, breathing heavily from the exertion of its violence. It paused, its gaze fixed on the smoking barrel of Kessler’s Luther. It looked up at them, blood dripping from its maw, gave a feral howl and, as the light faded again, it stepped back into the shadow and was gone.
Kessler’s head spun as he fought unconsciousness but with Doc’s help they staggered over to where Beck lay. He was drenched in blood which seeped uncontrollably from a gaping hole in his stomach, his small hands frantically trying to keep his guts from spilling out. His heat suit was in bloody shreds and his vent had been ripped from his face. Eyes wide with terror, and gills flaring, Beck’s body jolted as it desperately gasped for oxygen that was not there. Doc ran for his medical bag as the innkeeper tried to speak but the dark, thick blood bubbling from his mouth made it difficult. Kessler knelt close as he gurgled and rasped, “I’m sorry, for letting them take the girl,” his body shook in a spasm, “Mr Kessler,” his eyes briefly regained their focus, “stay away from the shadows, stay in the light.” He coughed and spluttered, took a half breath and was gone. With that, Kessler slumped to the ground and gave into the vast emptiness of unconsciousness.
ACROSS THE FIRE
“Hold on!” A voice shouted from somewhere in the distance. Something grabbed hold of Kessler’s shoulders. A face came into focus. Spectacles sitting at an angle on a long, pinched nose and, behind it, a face that was bloodied and bruised. Thin lips were frantically moving, barking confused noise. An arm raised up into the air and came down quickly onto his chest, a sharp pain and a wave of chemical warmth immediately spreading over his body, numbing the agony and quickly slowing his jagged breathing.
“Can you hear me Kes? Say something!”
“Ok, ok!” Kessler groggily lifted himself up so that he leaned against the side of the escarpment, his head heavily swaying from side to side. He gasped, “I can’t breathe.” Words rasped and oozed uncomfortably from his mouth.
Doc continued to speak as his hands worked to clean the wound, “I’ve controlled the bleeding and am now sealing your suit. You haven’t been exposed to the rads for too long.” The Doc’s familiar matter of fact tone brought a brief calm to his thoughts and allowed Kessler to focus, his memory beginning to piece together reality. Doc continued, “The last of them disappeared into the shadows. I have never seen anything quite like it, fascinating really.”
“Beck,” the last few seconds of memory before he blacked out came crashing back, “dead?”
“Yes, afraid so. Nasty way to go.”
Kessler moved his head groggily to his right and Beck’s corpse, what was left of it, came into view, “I tried to get to him but I was too late.”
“You were busy saving me, besides, he got what he deserved in the end.” Doc’s hands worked with the rapid confidence only achieved through years of slicing and dicing his way through the profession he loved. Soon, the mess that was Kessler’s chest was patched up.
“No one deserves to go like that.”
“Even a Dreg like Beck Goodfellow?” Doc took Kessler by the head and pulled it closer. He peered into the detective’s eyes and took his pulse, “It’s not like you to be sentimental.”
Pain arced through Kessler’s body and his hand immediately reached for his bag within which lay escape. He tensed. Where was it? He raised himself, ignoring Doc’s protests, and looked around frantically. It was then the image of the Seeker tearing through it came to him. He scrambled over to where its shredded remnants lay scattered over the cavern floor together with the burst caps of sim. He stared silently at the empty vials, despair slowly consuming him. He was tired, exhausted. His focus returned to Beck’s crumpled body, then to the two creatures, their dark blood disappearing into the cracked floor of the cavern and finally resting back on the burst caps. He began to shake and his eyes itch. Tense hands went to his helmet and began to undo the seals, the only thought in his mind, through a haze of bubbling anguish, was to escape. He did not want to feel anything anymore. The final seal hissed escaping Ox as he began to lift his helmet from his shoulders.
Doc leapt at him and batted away his arms, “What do you think you are doing? This hea
t, the air. It will kill you.”
“Good!” Kessler roared, hoarsely. “I just… just… can’t stand it anymore!”
Doc resealed Kessler’s suit, pressed his visor up against his own and stared into the wild, twitching blue eyes of the detective, “Listen carefully to me. I cannot get out of D5 without you. No way will I make it back alone and if it means I have to walk right up to that damned furnace town full of these beasts and get Beth back then so be it. Now pull yourself together.”
“I can’t…”
“Pull yourself together! If it helps just think of what Bethany is going through right now. Think of what might happen to Macy at the hands of Little Chi,” Doc shook his head, “heck, if it helps think of what this Lux is doing to this damned city. There was a time when you cared about such things. Now deal with it and let’s move. We do what we must to survive. Survival is all that matters. You told me that once when I needed to hear it, now I’m telling you.” Doc took out a syringe, “Now, some more chem for you, completely legal and Council approved. It will keep your energy levels up, give you back some strength.”
Kessler winced as the needle delivered its payload into his veins. The chem acted quickly, propping up his aching, tired muscles with a quick, forced vitality. Doc returned to gathering the spilt contents of his bag and Kessler’s focus returned to look longingly at the remnants of his sim. The Council’s manufactured soup was giving him the physical fortitude he needed but without the elation, it did not block out the mental images of all that had happened, did not dampen the despair of what was to come. He bent down and picked up from the cavern floor Bethany’s silver cross which sparkled in amongst the shredded remnants of his bag. He stared at it for a few moments. Whatever it was that brought the creature pain in the bag, his sim, Lux, maybe even the disgusting Council rations, that Seeker would have gotten him for sure if it was not for the cross. Kessler held it in his fist as his thoughts raked over his memories from the fight.
