Game Over

by Andrew Klavan

  Just then—that’s when the noise of battle reached him. From outside, in the compound. Soldiers shouting. Gunfire. And then . . . squealing . . . shrieking . . . monstrous noises that Rick recognized at once . . . the war cries of the dead creatures of the Golden City . . .

  Rick realized what was happening right away. Kurodar was invading the compound through the Realm. Through him. Through the portal that had somehow opened in his mind when he came through the Breach.

  Rick got off the bed and went to the door. He tried the handle again. Rattled it. The door stayed locked.

  The portal, he thought.

  He remembered the darkness ripping open in the Realm.

  The portal goes two ways.

  He sent out another prayer—another wordless prayer that came from deep in his spirit. He focused on the door. On the lock inside the door.

  Please, he thought. He knew he could not do this alone. The human soul alone is a place of darkness. He needed the power of that light.

  Please.

  He went on focusing on the lock inside the door. Using the power of the Realm inside him. Bringing his whole spirit to bear on the computerized mechanism that set the lock in place.

  Please . . .

  Suddenly, with a little inner jolt, he felt the logic of the lock’s machinery come into him. Its codes and numbers were spoken into his mind in a high-speed voice that he understood without understanding.

  He moved the numbers with his mind.

  There was a buzz as the bolt miraculously drew back.

  Rick pushed the door with a sort of experimental gesture—and yes, it swung open! He expected to find a guard on the other side. But all the guards were gone. They had run outside to join the fight.

  Grimacing at the pain that flashed through his legs, Rick ran after them.

  21. BATTLEFIELD

  MEANWHILE, THE BOAR Soldier rushed at Molly, sword upraised. The edge of the blade was already descending as she willed herself to move. She spun to the side with athletic grace, turning in a full circle as the sword whisked at her through the air. She came out of the 360 facing the Boar just as the metal whispered past her head and smashed into the metal roof of the truck’s cab.

  The Boar was stunned by the impact, metal on metal. With the sword down, his face was exposed to Molly. She had a chance to strike out at him. Even thinking fast, she was smart enough not to punch him. His skin looked as thick and rough as a log, as bristly as a porcupine. She was pretty sure she’d break her smallish hand if she tried a direct blow. Instead, she made a fist and brought the edge of it swinging around sidearm like a big hammer. The hammer-fist struck the Boar full speed smack in his naked nose.

  It was a good blow. It hurt him. It hurt him plenty. Molly could tell by the way he squealed. The Boar staggered back. He tried to steady himself, to steady his sword, to ready it for another strike at her. But he backed over something—a stone maybe or maybe just a spot of uneven ground. Whatever it was, the staggering Boar tripped over it and spilled backside-first to the dirt. As he hit the earth, he lost his grip on his weapon. The sword dropped with a dull clang.

  On the instant, Molly rushed for it. She leapt over the Boar’s thrashing pig feet, stooped down, and grabbed the sword’s handle. The Boar went onto all fours, struggling to rise. Molly grabbed the sword off the ground and kept moving. The sword wasn’t light. It weighed about ten pounds. But with all that adrenaline in her, Molly barely felt the weight of it.

  The Boar got to his feet. Molly halted. She turned. The Boar rushed at her. Molly swung.

  She braced her back foot on the forest floor and used her whole body to bring the big weapon around fast, like a baseball bat. Of course, it weighed about five times what a baseball bat weighs, but she was still able to get some speed into it.

  Before the Boar could reach her, the edge of the blade connected with the side of his head. Molly grunted at the impact, but her grunt was drowned by the shriek of the creature. Molly squinted at the brightness of the purple bolts that went through him just before he disappeared with a last tremendous flash.

  She let the point of the sword sink to the ground. She looked around her.

  The battle at the compound gate continued. Harpies flew down on the harried soldiers. Boars rushed at them. And Cobras coiled up out of the earth and tried to strike at them. More soldiers had come running from the barracks to join the fight, but more and more monsters were materializing out of the earth and out of the air. The men and monsters battled back and forth at the entrance in the barbed-wire fence.

  Molly knew she had to go, had to get out of here, had to get her father and Victor One to safety. She turned and took a step toward the truck.

  But it was already too late.

  Boars and Cobras were springing out of the ground all around her. Harpies appeared in midair and swept down on her.

  In an instant she was surrounded by monsters.

  22. LONE SOLDIER

  MOLLY KNEW SHE was done for. The fight with the Boar had left her at a distance from the truck. In a moment—before she could move or even think—two giant Cobras sprang into being, cutting her off from the truck’s door. When she turned—wherever she turned—left or right—the Boars were standing before her with their swords upraised. And even as she stood there, frozen in fear and despair, a gray, shrieking Harpy was descending on her out of the sky.

  Molly decided if she had to die, she would die fighting. In that final second before the creatures closed over her, it was the only thing she could think to do.

  She managed to raise the sword in time to run the point into the center of the attacking Harpy. The she-creature shrieked and flashed and vanished—leaving Molly free to swing again, blocking the blow of an onrushing Boar.

  But already her strength was failing. The sword was growing heavy and her arms were growing weak. The clash with the Boar sent her staggering backward. The Cobras seized the moment to slither toward her. The Boars rushed at her. Another Harpy screamed and fell on her from the side.

  Despite the weakness in her arms, Molly managed to swing the sword again—once, twice—forcing the snarling creatures back. But an instant later, her blade struck the blade of a Boar and she lost her grip on the weapon. The sword went flying out of her hands, fell to the forest floor, and vanished.

  The Harpy came at her with a shriek. Unarmed, Molly let out a shriek of her own. She raised her hands, ready to fight with just her nails and teeth if she had to, but she knew it would make no difference. She knew the end had come.

  The Harpy, its terrible face frozen in a cry of blood-lust and rage, rushed down at her, its razor claws sweeping through the air. Molly caught the thing by the throat with one hand. Caught the slashing arm by the wrist with the other. Hurled the beast into the Cobras, making their slithery, bony bodies dodge to the side, halting their advance.

  Then the creatures charged and swept over her. She was overpowered. On instinct, she threw her hands over her head and fell to her knees, waiting to die.

  A second passed. Another second. She felt the presence of the monsters all around her. She heard their growls and snarls and screams. But they didn’t fall on her. She didn’t die. She couldn’t understand it.

  Molly lowered her hands and looked up.

  The mob of monsters was still there. They towered over her. But they had turned away from her. She saw their backs—the backs of the Boars and the Cobras. They were all facing away from her. Even when another Harpy materialized out of the forest sky and swept down screaming, it did not sweep down on her.

  The monsters were battling something behind them. Something—someone—had engaged them in a deadly melee. Molly watched, astonished, as first one, then another, then another of the creatures flashed purple and vanished. Even as new monsters rose up to take the places of the fallen, the ranks of the creatures began to thin. A few seconds more, and Molly could see through the mob to its center.r />
  And there was Victor One.

  He was a horrifying sight. His face was gray and green. His eyes were streaked with red. His old wound had opened and the front of his shirt was stained nearly black with blood. He had a piece of wood in his hand—one of the boards from the crates inside the truck. The board had nails sticking out of one end and V-One was using one hand to swing and jab with it expertly. With his other hand he grabbed and struck and slashed. The Boars fell at his feet. The Cobras exploded. The Harpies spiraled out of the air like crashing planes. Every second Molly watched, another of the creatures flashed and died and vanished under Victor One’s assault.

  “Get in the truck!” he shouted at her, never stopping his attack for a moment. “Get in the truck and go!”

  Molly hesitated. She looked around her quickly. More monsters were springing out of the earth, materializing out of the sky. She hated to leave Victor One alone in this battle, but he was right: if she didn’t move, she and her father would be swarmed and killed. If she could get the truck moving, maybe she could pull V-One on board and they could all escape together.

  “Go, go, go!” he shouted.

  Molly obeyed him. The Cobras who had stood in her way were gone. She leapt to the truck. She climbed into the driver’s seat, pulling the door shut behind her. She wrestled the gear shift into neutral. She reached for the ignition. Would it start? It had to. It had to.

  She hit the ignition. She hit the gas. The engine whined. It fought to engage. It coughed. But no . . .

  She tried again. Again, it whined and coughed—and then, yes, it started!

  But too late. Boars and Cobras continued springing out of the ground all around her. Harpies appeared in midair and dove at the windshield. In an instant the truck was surrounded with monsters, even as Victor One tried to fight them off outside.

  Molly put the truck in reverse. She stepped on the gas. She tried to back through the attacking creatures. But they swarmed over the vehicle. They hit it hard. The engine sputtered and died again. The truck stopped still. The creatures hammered at it, rocking it back and forth. Cracks spider-webbed over the windshield. The driver’s window began to cave in. Molly tried to start the truck again, but it wouldn’t happen.

  She looked at her father. He stared back helplessly. She looked all around her.

  The creatures were everywhere.

  23. RESCUE QUEST

  RICK RUSHED TO the door of the hospital barracks and looked out. The scene in the compound was incredible to see. Monsters blooming out of the earth. Monsters flashing out of the empty air. Soldiers shooting at the creatures with rifles. Stabbing at them with bayonets and combat knives. But for each creature that fell to earth, shrieking and flashing and disappearing, another grew up in its place. New soldiers were charging across the compound to join the fight, but there were only so many of them, and the monsters might appear forever. Already, as Rick watched, the soldiers were falling back and the monsters pushing forward. Soon, the soldiers would be swarmed and overcome.

  Rick didn’t hesitate. Ignoring the pain in his legs, he started running. Somehow he had to stop this. Somehow he knew he could, knew that he was the only one who could. He didn’t feel Kurodar using him as a portal, but that had to be what was happening. Nothing else made sense. The Realm was inside him now . . .

  But it wasn’t the only thing inside him. His spirit was there and his spirit could control the Realm. He knew that. His spirit could control the shape of things there. If he could somehow take hold of the inner portal. If he could somehow close that portal down . . .

  Rick drew near to the heart of the battle—so near that a Cobra sprang up beside him, baring the fangs in its skull, ready to strike. Rick struck first, with a huge roundhouse punch. His fist smacked full force into the side of the Cobra’s head. The snake’s black eyes went milky white. It dropped sideways to the earth. It flickered. Flashed. It was gone.

  And Rick turned to the rest of them.

  With the melee noisy and bloody all around him, it was no easy thing to bring his focus to bear. But that was part of who he was, what he could do. He went inside himself. He narrowed his attention to a pinpoint, like a beam of light. He looked deep into his own spirit . . .

  And there it was. Hidden away in him, like a secret sin. He saw it now. The link to the darkness of the Realm that had somehow become lodged in his own brain, the passage that linked him to Kurodar’s evil.

  With all the force of his spirit, he willed the portal to close.

  He could feel it happening. It was like the stone eye of a giant idol slowly shutting, the lid slowly lowering. He could not shut the gap forever, but he could shut it for now, hold it fast for a little while, at least.

  With a sort of inner thud, it shut. He felt it.

  And almost at once, he saw the monsters stop appearing. The ones who were already there remained, fighting the battle, but no more Boars and Cobras grew out of the ground, no more Harpies materialized in the sky. He had closed the portal.

  With no more monster reinforcements, the harried soldiers of the compound began to turn the tide of battle. They fired their automatic weapons in short bursts. Harpies dropped out of the air, shrieking. Boars squealed and fell and died. Rotting Cobras exploded in blasts of white bone. Step-by-slow-step, the soldiers began to move forward, driving the creatures back against the fence.

  Rick looked round him, searching for a weapon with which to join the fight. As he turned, he saw a commotion out beyond the compound, at the edge of the woods on the other side of the half-open gate.

  A mob of dead, half-rotten creatures had gathered there. They were swarming over something. What was it? A truck. The monsters mobbed it, threw themselves at it, crawled over the top of it, attacked it again and again. They looked like ants devouring a sugar cube.

  A truck . . ., Rick thought.

  He felt something darken in his heart. Wasn’t a transport truck coming to collect Molly and Professor Jameson this morning?

  As the soldiers and monsters fought one another at the compound’s perimeter, Rick began moving through the chaos. He went slowly at first, trying to see what was going on out in the woods, what was at the heart of that swarm of creatures out there. But as the thought of Molly kept coming back to him, his footsteps quickened. Soon he was running again, running toward the gate.

  A fallen soldier lay on the ground in his path. Wounded, bloody, but still breathing, his arm was lifted to his face, the back of his hand resting on his forehead. His automatic rifle lay beside him in the dirt. The strap was broken and lay twisted in the dirt like a green snake.

  Rick barely broke stride as he reached down and snapped the rifle up. He readied it to fire as he went on running toward the truck.

  He came through the gate. He had a good view of what was happening now. The truck was damaged, stalled. It had obviously crashed into the nearby pine tree. He could see the damage in the tree’s bark. There was glass on the forest floor and what Rick could see of the truck’s fender was dented. Harpies and Boars and Cobras were hammering at the cab again and again, trying to break in through the windows and windshield. Harpies were tearing at the canvas that covered the flatbed in back. Some of the snakes were trying to slither in over the rear gate, but every time they tried, something beat them back.

  It was another few steps before Rick could make out Victor One, battle-mad, blood-soaked, wildly swinging a two-by-four to keep the creatures off the truck.

  But the Harpies were up above him, out of his reach. They were on top of the vehicle, shredding the canvas covering. Soon they would come through and attack the cab from the rear.

  Rick raised the rifle chest-high and opened fire. He had to be careful not to hit the people in the truck so he aimed at the edges of the monster mob, and let off only a short three-bullet blast at a time. He went for the Harpies on the canvas first. The bullets tore into their gray, rotting flesh. The winged woman-like things
flew back into the air, shrieking and sparking. One vanished midair. Another dropped writhing and flashing to the ground and then was gone.

  Rick fired again. And again. A Cobra’s head exploded. A Boar fell to the earth wounded. He pulled the trigger again—and nothing. A useless click. The magazine was empty, the bullets gone.

  Rick tossed the gun away. The wounded Boar still lay on the ground, the purple bolts of lightning zigzagging through him. His sword lay beside him, shimmering with purple light. Rick rushed for the sword. Grabbed it. His energy recharged it. The purple lightning went out. The sword grew solid in his hand. He raised it above his head and let out a wild battle cry. He charged into the fight, swinging the blade.

  Victor One heard Rick’s cry; he saw Rick charge. His pale face broke into a ghastly grin. His arms seemed to gain fresh strength as he fought the creatures all around him.

  Molly saw Rick come too. She had been fighting tears of terror as she tried to start the truck again. But now she let the ignition go and grabbed the door handle. As the Boars and Cobras launched themselves at her windows, she let out a yell and threw the door open and slammed it into them. Once, twice—sending two attackers flying. And as a Harpy tried to reach in and tear at her, she slammed the door on its clawed hand.

  In the next moment, though, a Cobra hit the window and the glass caved in, the sharp, dangerous shards falling toward her. Molly reeled back in her seat, covering her face with her raised arms. When she looked again, the Cobra was right outside, ready to strike through the opening, through the space above the jagged shards in the bottom of the window frame. Its head darted in on her, its dagger-fangs bared. Its jaws snapped shut—just missing her as she leaned back desperately against her father. The Cobra began to withdraw for a fresh strike. Molly swallowed her disgust and launched herself forward. She used both hands to grab the thing. She slammed its head down onto the jagged glass. The Cobra let out a hissy gasp as the sharp shards pierced its underjaw. Molly saw the purple lightning flash inside it. Then it was gone.