Dead World

by Lucas Pederson

  She hadn’t realized it in the briefing, but he was the one to spout the dead world label. At the time, her mind hadn’t made the connection.

  “Movement is an understatement,” Gert says. “The entire floor is alive.”

  Everyone backs away as the things under the dirt slither closer and closer.

  Row thumbs the safety off his Z91 rifle and shouts, “Kill’em all!”

  Gerty, Rip, Fern and Vilas’s men follow Row’s lead, blasting the dirt floor in mad, rapid bursts. Alyx draws her revolver, but doesn’t shoot. Not yet. The air fills with the powdery dirt. Already, Rip is coughing from it. The acrid odor of it strikes Alyx’s nostrils like a slap to the face.

  “Air masks,” she says. “The dirt might be toxic!”

  But the others don’t hear her over the gun-blasts. The tunnel amplifies everything and the sound is deafening. She touches a button on the collar of her tactical vest. A mask rises out of the collar, secures over her mouth and nose, yet still allowing her to turn her head. Fancy, she thinks and nudges Row. He pauses shooting enough to slice an irritated glance her way. She taps the mask.

  For a moment, he doesn’t appear to understand. The fog of battle does this to soldiers, she knows. Then his expression clears. He nods, presses the blue button on his collar. The mask rises, forms over his mouth and nose. He gets Gerty, Rip, Fern, and Vilas’s men to do the same.

  However, the distraction is a mistake.

  A bunch of the white, tentacled creatures erupt out of the dirt. Alyx shoots as many as she can, their small bodies exploding in gouts of purple slime, before a couple latch onto Rip and Gerty.

  “Wick,” Row shouts through the mask. “Take Rip, I’ll get Gerty.”

  She doesn’t hesitate this time and manages to pull the creature off Rip before it can really wrap itself around the big man. She tosses it aside with a grunt of disgust, and blows a hole into the thing. She takes a brief moment to inspect it.

  It has three, gray eyes protruding out of a flat head, much like a crab. Only its mouth is wide and full of hook-like teeth. Its skin is wrinkly and white, coated with yellow slime. Six two-foot tentacles writhe from the flat body. Sticking out each of these are three inch, ashen barbs dripping with foul-smelling fluid.

  “Alyx,” Gerty screams. “Look ou—”

  The impact is like being slammed in the shoulder by a ten-pound sandbag. Alyx staggers, about loses her balance, and claws at the creature trying to fix itself onto her shoulder. It mewls at her.

  Fern shoves her into the wall, clutches a massive handful of the slimy, white flesh, and yanks the thing off Alyx’s shoulder. It squeals, tentacles lashing. One of the barbs catches Fern’s cheek, tearing a thin groove through the skin. The tall woman growls and literally rips the creature in half. She drops the halves, gives Alyx a pat on the shoulder, then turns to the dirt floor again. Fern squeezes off a few rounds, then begins to list to the side. She bumps into Rip who frowns at her. He shoots a few of the creatures and ushers her behind them.

  Row, Gerty, and Vilas’s men continue firing and pulverizing the little monsters until the floor stops moving.

  And as the dust clears, all Alyx can do is blink at everything. Leaning against the opposite wall, Fern stares straight ahead. Her right cheek is swollen, her lips engorged. Yellow liquid seeps from the cut on her fat cheek. In the high-density shoulder lamps, the cheek is bright red and appears to pulse.

  “Shit, what the hell was that?’ Gerty hurries over to Alyx. “Are you okay?” Her voice is muffled through the mask.

  “Yeah. But…” Alyx points at Fern.

  Gerty follows her finger and freezes. “Oh. Oh, shit.”

  Row kneels beside Fern, tries to get her attention, but the woman doesn’t respond. Just keeps staring at nothing. The right side of her face is so swollen the eyeball bulges out of its socket.

  Row presses the blue button and the mask slips back into the collar. Into the small throat mic, he says, “Vilas. Vilas, do you copy?”

  And surprise, surprise, Vilas doesn’t answer.

  “Vilas. We need immediate medical assistance down here.”

  Nothing.

  Alyx kneels on the other side of Fern, getting a closer look at the swollen side of her face. She doesn’t want to, but retracts the mask and radios Vilas as well.

  “Get your head out of your ass, Vilas. This is serious.”

  “Maybe the tunnel is interfering with the signal?” Rip glances at the men Vilas left with them. “You guys medics?”

  Both men shake their heads, eyes barely blinking.

  Alyx stands, walks over to them. “Spit it out. What’s his plan?”

  The men exchange glances. The blond one says, “To aid in this search in any way possible.”

  “Right,” Alyx says. “Now tell me the truth. Why is he really here?”

  Row touches her shoulder. “Give it a rest. They won’t talk.”

  The men once more exchange glances. They say nothing more.

  Alyx holsters the revolver, but not before thinking about using it to make them talk. The thought is tempting, though. Vilas is an ass, and he might have turned over a new leaf, yet, she still doesn’t trust him. Nor does she buy the no signal thing. A signal should’ve gotten through just fine down here.

  Unless something happened to Vilas. Maybe some creature ate him. And although that’d be fantastic, she worries about Lance.

  She faces Fern again, trying to think of a way to help. The woman is pretty much catatonic. As the swelling creeps to the other side of her face, the spot where the tentacle cut her oozes yellow liquid. The barbs are poisonous, clearly, though how does one stop the swelling?

  They need to figure out something fast before Fern dies.

  Alyx kneels next to Fern again. She touches the red, swollen cheek, not sure what to do, when it bursts and hundreds of tiny translucent things spew out like baby spiders.

  Gasping, Alyx scrambles away from Fern.

  “Holy shit!” Gerty starts toward Fern. Alyx stops her.

  “Don’t get near those things!” Alyx frowns at Fern. The woman’s head lolls. Her right eye finally pops out of its socket and dangles on her swollen cheek. A gurgling noise issues from the woman’s gaping mouth.

  “What the fuck are we supposed to do?” Gerty turns from Alyx to Row, until facing Rip. The large man’s face is solemn as he shakes his head.

  Row sighs. “Burn her.”

  As the tiny spiderlike creatures scurry down Fern’s body, Row says, “Rip, use the fireblast.”

  “Are you serious, Captain?” Rip says. “She’s one of us.”

  “There’s no way to stop it, Rip,” Row says. “She’s barely living as it is right now. Vilas won’t answer my call. None of us are medics. I could patch her up, but she’s been impregnated. She’s an incubator for them. Nothing I can do will stop that. The only way to assure our own safety is to destroy her and those things.”

  “That’s fucked up,” Gerty spouts.

  Rip, looking like he’s about to vomit for as pale as he is, unclamps another gun from his back and points it at Fern. The tiny spider-like creatures swarm over her body.

  “Now, Rip,” Row says, his voice gentle as he steps away from the woman.

  The big man draws in a breath, flips a small switch on the side of the gun, and pulls the trigger.

  There’s a bright flash, and in a few seconds, Fern, along with all the baby creatures, are reduced to a pile of dark ash.

  Rip secures the flashgun, face like chiseled stone, and turns away. Gerty places a hand on his broad shoulder, but he brushes her off and walks down the tunnel alone.

  Row tries once more to hail Vilas, but like before, there’s no answer.

  “So, what are we going to do?” Gerty asks, staring at the mound of ash and wiping tears from her face.

  Everyone’s gaze shifts from one to another. Row glares back the way they came, as if contemplating going back.

  Stepping in front of them all, Alyx says, �
�We keep going. We’ll gather Fern’s ashes and keep going. We have to.”

  “I’m sorry,” Gerty says, face darkening. “But when did you become our commanding officer because I—”

  “She’s right,” Row says and moves to Alyx’s side. “We finish the mission. Company 3 still might be alive. And even if they’re not, we still bring them home to their families.”

  Rip says, “Oorah.”

  Gerty sighs, nods. “Oorah.”

  Vilas’s men exchange stony glances, but that’s all.

  Christ, Alyx thinks. Are they fucking robots or something?”

  “I’ll gather her ashes,” Row says. “Then we move out. Time to get this done.”

  No one says anything as Fern’s ashes are sucked into a tube and stowed in Row’s pack. Fern deserves some good words, but as Row secures his pack, no one speaks. Silence is all anyone can manage.

  And in silence, they mourn.

  TEN

  “Wait,” Alyx says, listening.

  A low buzzing sound echoes through the tunnel. A frown creases her face as she steps forward a few more feet, then stops again.

  “What is it?” Row asks beside her.

  “If I knew, I’d tell you, pal.” Alyx sighs. “Sorry. Sounds like a bunch of wasps.”

  “Wasps?” Rip moves back a bit. “All yours guys.” He nudges Vilas’s men.

  Alyx snorts. “I doubt it’s wasps, Rip.”

  “These guys haven’t done anything, though.”

  And for the first time since the creatures attacked, one of the men says, “We are here to help when needed.”

  She’s not sure which one spoke, but guesses it’s the dark-haired douche. The blond one has a more nasally tone.

  “Uh-huh,” Gerty says. “Heard that one before.”

  “Just make sure you guys do,” Row says. “If we need your help, I expect your help. Got me?”

  There’s a grunt from one of the men, but that’s all.

  Ahead, the low buzzing sound continues. Alyx ventures away from the rest, even as Row orders her back. They soon catch up to her, however. Gerty grabs her arm and yanks her back.

  “The hell you think you’re doing, Alyx? If there’s something bad up there we couldn’t help you right away.”

  Alyx pulls out of her grip. “This isn’t my first rodeo, hun.”

  Gerty frowns. “Aren’t you a teacher?”

  Grinning, Alyx says, “Among other things.”

  The girl shakes her head. “Your file said Professor of Archeology and Exploration.”

  Instead of enlightening Gerty, Alyx smiles. She keeps walking as the buzzing grows louder. To her surprise, the girl doesn’t keep probing. Call it a Marine’s knack for self-control. Or maybe Gerty lost interest. Either way, Alyx welcomes the relative silence. Save for the buzzing, of course. She can think better without the distraction of conversation.

  Sharp clacks mingle with the buzzing and…

  “You’re gonna need a better bot,” Alyx says, walking to the runner as it crashes itself into the wall again. The lights are shattered and, as Alyx crouches to take a better look at the thing, there are claw marks gouging the metal body. White sparks spurt out of the undercarriage.

  “Guess this is why it didn’t warn us about those things?” Gerty stands nearby, gun pointing at the wall of darkness down the tunnel.

  “No. It was still working fine when the creatures attacked. This happened sometime after.”

  Visibly tensing, Gerty asks, “By the same monsters?”

  “I don’t think so. Look.” Alyx points at the claw marks. “These are too big. And made by claws, not the barbs or teeth of those other things.”

  “So, there are…other things down here?”

  “Looks like it. Row?”

  The man taps Gerty on the shoulder. She shuffles ahead a few feet.

  Row crouches opposite of her, eyeing the runner. “What do you think did this?”

  Alyx shakes her head. “Something not good.” She stands. “Keep an eye out for anything even remotely out of place along the walls and ceiling. A blurry area. Anything like that.”

  “Blurry area? You think whatever did this can cloak itself?”

  “It’s a possibility.” Alyx straightens her baseball cap and steps over the runner as it continues beating itself against the wall. “Let’s go.”

  Row doesn’t remind her of who is really running the show. She’s not military. She has no authority over anyone. The only edge she has right now is tunnel knowledge and her explorer mindset. This includes a small ability to know when she’s being studied.

  And right now, as they continue down the tunnel, she feels just that. Something is watching them very closely. Something yet unseen.

  Perhaps the runner was a warning.

  Then again, she’s never heeded a single warning in her life. Why start now?

  Come whatever may.

  The Marines and Vilas’s men crowd behind her as the tunnel continues to narrow. The walls sweat a rank liquid and when Alyx touches it, her fingertips tingle.

  “Don’t drink anything down,” she says, quickly wiping her fingers on her pants. “No matter how tempting.”

  “Ten-four,” Rip says.

  She’s not sure how long they’ve been walking when she comes to a T-intersection. The right tunnel appears narrower. A strange, minty odor wafts out of it. The left tunnel is wide, as far as she can tell. Smells like damp stone.

  Row starts down the left tunnel without much pause.

  “Wait,” Alyx says.

  The Captain stops, shooting her an irritated expression. All sour looking, like he just chomped into a lemon.

  Alyx points at the right tunnel. “This one.”

  “Um,” Gerty says. “That one looks messed up, Alyx.”

  “It’s the one Sully and Company 3 took.”

  Row, frowning, storms toward her. “How do you know that?”

  She points at the boot prints in the dirt, which has gone from powdery to almost muddy. The prints lead into the narrow tunnel.

  Frown dissolving, Row nods. “Good catch, Dr. Wick.” He walks away from her and enters the narrow tunnel. Rip and Vilas’s men follow.

  “I—I dunno if I can,” Gerty says. “All that sky shit worked in the other tunnel, but this is nuts.” The girl’s wide eyes and tense posture says so much more than her words. The female Marine is terrified.

  “Same rules apply here,” Alyx says. “Think of a spacious place you like to be. Someplace soothing.”

  Already the lights of the others are fading as they continue on. A burst of panic strikes Alyx.

  “Plus, this might be the tunnel that opens up to a cavern. You won’t be in the tunnel very long.”

  Gerty rolls her eyes. “You’re a horrible liar.”

  “Okay, listen,” Alyx says. “You’re a Marine. As tough as they come. As narrow as that tunnel is, it’s not near as dangerous as facing down a Tilian horde.” Tilians are some of the most feared invaders of the galaxy, Alyx knows. As she knows Gerty has probably fought off a few.

  “And you use bad examples.’ Gerty sighs. “Okay. Fine. Let’s do this.”

  She forges away from Alyx, enters the narrow tunnel, and doesn’t look back.

  Alyx smiles for a moment, then stops. She frowns at a pale spot on the ceiling above the tunnel. Just discoloration, but is it really? She stares at it for a while before finally deciding to join the others. If something is watching them, sooner or later it’ll make a mistake. All things make mistakes. But so far, it’s playing things safe.

  This tunnel is so narrow her shoulders scrape along the rough walls. A substance resembling cobwebs stick to her coat and cling to her hat. The minty odor is nearly overwhelming. Her stomach churns and her throat works against vomiting. The stench is so bad it actually brings tears to her eyes. She touches the blue button and the mask secures over her nose and mouth, smothering the noxious odor.

  The floor crunches under her boots and when she spares a gl
ance, she realizes she’s walking over small bones.

  “Figures,” she says to herself and soon catches up to Gerty.

  The younger woman, she’s walking slowly, whispering something too low to understand. Her breathing isn’t slow or regular, it’s all gasps. She’s visibly shaking.

  “I’m right here,” Alyx says. “You’re doing great, just keep moving.”

  The tunnel, it’s barely three feet wide. If that. It’s close, even for Alyx. The walls are rough, uneven and pocked with baseball sized holes. The bones scattered on the floor crunch and crackle. She’s just thankful for the mask cutting out that nasty mint stench.

  “He put me in the trunk,” Gerty says.

  Alyx blinks. “What?”

  “He…he wanted me to be quiet. He said I was too loud. Oh, god, I could barely breathe!”

  Alyx places a hand on Gerty’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m here. Just keeping moving. You’re doing great.”

  “You already said that,” Gerty says, though her voice sneaks in between rapid breaths.

  Alyx fumbles with a response, not that she needs one because…

  “It was hot and oh god, I couldn’t get out. Something touched my leg and I didn’t have enough light to see what it was. So dark in there. So scary. I tried getting out…”

  Squeezing the girl’s shoulder, Alyx says, “It’s okay, hun. Just take slow, even breaths for me, okay? Slow and steady. We’re almost out.” She doesn’t know if they are or not and doubts they are.

  “It’s not okay! He put me in the trunk of his car. He left me there all day. I…I…”

  The girl lists to the right and Alyx steadies her. “Whoa. Gerty, you gotta breathe, hun. We’re not in the trunk, we’re right here. We’re in this tunnel and there’s plenty of room and you’ll never be alone. I’m right here.”

  Gerty leans against the right wall, shoulders rising and falling with every breath. But at least her breathing isn’t rapid anymore. It slows gradually and the girl begins to weep.

  Holding her from behind in an awkward embrace, Alyx says, “Shh. It’s okay. It’s okay now.”

  “S-sorry. My dad was…”

  Alyx squeezes. “I know. Just relax, though. I’m right here. You’re not alone.”