Ossified State (Chronicles of the Wraith Book 2)

by S. C. Green

  “This is fucking useless!” he yelled. “After everything we did to preserve the dome, the wraith still got out. The Mayor got his wish, after all.”

  “What do we do now?” Lorcon asked me.

  “We go after them,” Sydney declared, her hands balled into fists. “This isn’t over until we’re all husks. Lead the way, Raine.”

  I led them back through the passage I’d taken only the previous day. There had been such hope in my heart when I’d entered the dome. Memories of my daughter had mingled with the anticipation of finding her again, and I’d been practically bouncing with excitement. Now there was only fear and dread. And guilt, always the guilt that tore at my insides.

  Down, down, down we went, down the dark stairwells and drab concrete halls, deep into the underground below the Sunn Corporation headquarters. The walls had been scoured and blackened, and any furniture that remained had been smashed or thrown.

  I barrelled down the stairs, taking them three at a time. The silent parking garages and wasted storage units blurred together as I whizzed past, barely registering the levels of our descent. I worried that I wouldn’t remember the right floor, but as soon as my foot landed on the hard concrete, I knew I’d arrived. The walls here were completely black from the cloud’s hunger. The wooden door Red and I had come through – the first doorway I’d ever passed through inside the dome – had been blown completely away. We clambered over the splintered remains, and pushed our way into the room.

  Sydney peered at the walls. “What’s all this writing?”

  “Red told me the factory workers used to hold meetings here,” I said. I scanned the walls, too, all the protests, all the anger and outrage scrawled across the concrete. “I think they had some kind of union.”

  “These messages seem excessive,” Lorcon said, his thin fingers tracing the words HELP US. “These aren’t the words of a union fighting for longer bathroom breaks and equitable pay. These are the words of frightened men and women.”

  “Any why meet so deep underground like this?” Sydney asked. “Why not at a pub or hall, where others could hear about the cause?”

  “Maybe they didn’t want their cause to be known to others,” said Alain. “This looks like a room that has seen a lot of secrets.”

  … secrets …

  With a start, I realised what the ghost in the chemical factory had been trying to tell us. “The dome hides truth.” This room – this was the truth the dome was trying to conceal. The wraith … they were only part of the story. The real reason … the secret of the dome … was etched right here on these walls.

  The workers had figured out what it was they were creating. They must have known what the immortium would do. They were gathering here, trying to find a way to protest the work, but something stopped them …

  “It wasn’t an accident …”

  Oh, my god. The explosion. Hundreds of workers died, including the ghost we spoke to at the factory. And Red … he had memories of this room, he’d been part of the secret union. But he hadn’t been killed in the explosion. He had become a wraith much earlier than that. Had the Sunn Corporation taken him, killed him, and resurrected him to see if the drug worked?

  The idea hung heavily in my chest. I glanced at the others, but from their faces, it didn’t appear that they’d pieced it together. And as horrible as the truth was, it changed nothing. It couldn’t bring Red back to life or change what had happened. We’d still allowed the wraith to escape. We had to get through and find a way to rescue May.

  So I didn’t tell them what I’d figured out. Instead, I turned to the pile of fallen rock and concrete in the corner of the room. The wind had blown some of it away, scattering the rubble across the floor. For the first time, the mouth of the tunnel was actually visible. I realised then that the tunnel must have been how the workers accessed the room. They would have converged on that small apartment complex in the suburbs, looking to anyone watching them like a bunch of colleagues heading to a friends’ house to watch the ballgame. They snuck down through the tunnel back to this room – a rebellion meeting right beneath the organisation they intended to betray. It had a kind of poetry to it.

  Not the point right now, Raine. You can’t get justice for Red. You have to find your daughter.

  “That’s where we’re going.” I said, pointing to the tunnel.

  “It’s filled with crap.” Sydney kicked a piece of broken concrete.

  “How did you get through there?” Alain asked.

  “There’s a gap big enough for a raven to crawl through.” I said. “And of course, Red made his own way.”

  “Sydney can’t get through all that rubble,” Alain said.

  I gritted my teeth. I knew that. But this wasn’t about Sydney. It was about May. “She can stay here.”

  “She can’t. She’s our only hope of defeating the cloud.”

  Disgust burned in my veins, mingling with the guilt that dwelt inside me, singeing me with the shame of my own uselessness. I should be the one to save my daughter. I was the one who messed up. I needed to undo what I had done.

  But he was right, damn him. I squared my shoulders and picked up the nearest brick. “Then we’d better start clearing.”

  “My question is, how did Harriet get through this?” Sydney asked, fear thick in her voice. She shifted stones and tossed the smaller rocks over her shoulder. They clattered against the concrete table and smashed on the floor.

  “We’ll have to ask her,” Alain replied, grunting as he heaved aside a particularly large stone. Sydney made to help him, but he brushed her off. “You’re not supposed to lift heavy objects while you’re pregnant. I remember that well. Raine had me fetching anything heavier than a feather for her for months.”

  That was the second memory of our past life he’d willingly shared. Sydney’s lip curled up, but I wasn’t sure if it was because of this detail about Alain and my relationship, or because he said she shouldn’t lift things. The next stone she rolled away was twice the size of the last.

  “If Harriet controls the cloud, it might have cleared away the stone for her and then replaced it in the tunnel. That way, she and May could have been dragged through,” I said. It was hard to tell whether the stone had moved or not. I hauled a large slab of concrete away. The top corner of the tunnel appeared.

  “How far back does the rubble extend?” Lorcon asked.

  “At least five metres.”

  “This could take hours,” Sydney complained. She dropped her rock in the corner. It kicked up a cloud of dust that made her break down with a cough.

  “We’re not leaving without Sydney,” Alain said as he swept her into his arms and patted her back. The words were aimed at Sydney, but he looked at me as he said them.

  Fine, I get the picture. “Let’s just hope they haven’t collapsed the tunnel on the other side, as well.”

  We worked in tense silence, every minute ticking by like an eternity. No one dared speak what we were all thinking, that in the time it took us to move this rubble, the cloud could have caused untold damage on the other side.

  As we moved deeper into the tunnel, only one person could fit into the narrow space, so we passed rocks to each other like a chain gang. Finally, we’d cleared enough of the debris for Sydney to wriggle through. The three of us changed into our bird forms and zipped through after her. Sydney crawled along as fast as she could, and we hopped along behind her. Even with my superior raven vision, the tunnel was as dark as I remembered it, although a faint light flickered steadily at the other end. It must’ve been the equipment Jack and I had set up, still working. I hoped like hell Jack hadn’t been nearby when that cloud came out the other side.

  “I think we’re nearly at the end,” Sydney called out. Her feet dug into the bare dirt as she propelled herself forward with newfound speed. A few moments later she dragged herself upright.

  I darted out behind her, scanning the room for any sign of trouble. Scorch marks from the cloud stained the walls leading to the
staircase. It had definitely come through here. The row of equipment Jack and I set up had been toppled over, several of the screens and mechanisms smashed. Although oddly, it looked as though the air monitor had been set upright again. That explained the light I’d seen strobing on and off in the tunnel. A few feet away, a torn sleeping bag and some empty food wrappers littered the floor.

  Strange. I squinted into the darkness. Something moved, a shadow in the gloom. A figure crawled out from the corner of the room.

  “Raine … is that you? Please let it be you.”

  Jack!

  My heart soared to see him alive, crawling across the floor toward us, a pistol clutched in his shaking hand. The bandage I’d applied back in the observation tower was still wrapped around his leg, and he seemed to be putting some weight on it, so at least he was healing. I stood there, blinking at him with raven eyes, fearing I was hallucinating.

  Sydney stared at Jack in slack-jawed amazement, her hand hovering over her gun holster.

  “Are you Raine?” he asked Lorcon, who shook his beak furiously and scuttled out of the way.

  I pulled off the fastest transformation I’d ever done, my feathers retracting into my skin like switchblades. As soon as my boots landed on the concrete, I sprinted toward him, arms wide. “Jack!”

  I hadn’t realised until that moment how much I’d missed talking to him. The two of us had been together every single day for the last five years. We’d shared everything until I’d gone into the dome without him. So much had happened in the last two days, and he hadn’t been there for any of it.

  He fell into my arms, that Ken-doll face breaking into a wide grin. He wrapped his big hands around my waist and lifted me off the ground, spinning me around in a big bear hug. God, I didn’t remember his arms ever feeling this good.

  “Oh. Shouldn’t have done that.” He winced, setting me back down again. “I keep forgetting I’ve been brutalised. Raine’s fault, by the way.” He winked at Sydney, who gave him a half smile in return.

  She probably didn’t quite know what to make of him. She wasn’t exactly trusting, especially not of people I associated with. But it was pretty hard not to be swept up in the earnestness of Jack.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay,” I sobbed, resting my head against his shoulder.

  “I very nearly wasn’t.” He jabbed a finger at the tunnel mouth. “Something came through there before. A huge cloud of dust and debris. It flung the equipment against the wall, tore up my bed, and burned up all my books. I thought it was you at first, and I was running for the tunnel when I heard it approaching, but then this familiar voice hissed in my ear to hide.”

  “Red,” I said, grinning. If he was still himself inside the cloud, then that gave me renewed hope for May. “That wraith has done you a good turn. But why are you here at all? Why do you have a sleeping bag?”

  “I had to leave the station. About eight hours after you left, the authorities showed up. People from the Reaper Institute, escorted by a long convoy of army vehicles, swept through the Dream Desert. I heard their noisy vans trying to navigate the streets, and I just had this feeling if I stuck around, I wasn’t going to see the next sunrise. I hobbled outside with some survival gear and hid inside one of the buildings, then when they surrounded the station, I snuck away and came here. I watched them search the whole place. They had guns. They confiscated a ton of our equipment. I heard them break into an argument about whether to torch the station or not. They decided against that, in case they needed any more of our data for evidence.”

  “More’s the pity. I’d almost be glad to see the last of that tin box.”

  “But not the last of me, I hope?” Jack lifted one eyebrow in that adorable way of his, and I burst out laughing.

  “Never.” I hugged him tighter.

  “Not to break up this happy reunion,” Sydney said, somewhat impatiently. “But it’s important we follow that cloud. Alain’s daughter is trapped inside it. Can you tell us what exactly you saw when it came out of the tunnel?”

  Alain’s daughter. Oh, I wanted to punch her for that comment. But one couldn’t go around pummelling the only woman who could save my--our-- daughter’s life.

  “I’ve been monitoring the tunnel ever since Raine and Red went in.” Jack gestured to the pile of broken equipment. “All I’ve seen is the same readings, hour after hour. Only the faintest trace of wraith signature energy present, and that could be accounted for by the presence of Red. But then, a couple of hours ago, there was this massive surge. The scales were going all over the place!” He gesticulated wildly to illustrate his point and knocked himself off balance.

  I grabbed him just in time to prevent him toppling sideways.

  “See?” He half winced, half grinned. “I keep forgetting about it.”

  “And then what happened?” Sydney asked.

  “And then ... I was sitting over there, watching the machines, and hoping like hell the readings were somehow indicating good news. Then, about forty-five minutes ago, I heard something in the tunnel – a rushing sound, like water flowing down a pipe. I called out for Raine, but there was no answer. A cold breeze blew out of the tunnel and sent the laptop flying.” Jack pointed to the busted computer beside the wall. “I was heading toward the tunnel, my flashlight trained into the gloom, when that voice spoke to me. I recognised the wraith, and Raine had told me I could trust him, so I hid. Just as well, because when that wind came through, it was full of debris and twinkling particles I think were glass. If I’d been caught in it, it would’ve cut me up pretty bad—”

  “That’s not the worst it could do,” I said. “That cloud is wraith.”

  He gazed at me as if I’d completely lost it. “What?”

  “It’s a really long story, so here’s the condensed version,” I said. “The cloud is made from wraith of people who were cremated. Instead of holding a humanoid form, like Red, they’re this kind of animated dust—”

  “We don’t have time to stand around discussing it,” Sydney interrupted. “Who knows where that cloud could be by now, how many it could have killed?”

  “And you know how to stop it, do you?” I snapped back at her. “You’re supposed to be the wonder woman, the wraith-slayer, the great white hope for all humankind. So why haven’t you done anything yet? I’m trying to get you as close to that cloud as I can, and so far I’ve kept up my end of the bargain. Why haven’t you saved my daughter?”

  The rage flared up from nowhere, clenching my muscles into rocks. Heat flooded my body. Red splotches appeared before my eyes. I launched myself at Sydney, my hands grasping for her. I didn’t know what I intended to do. The red splotches grew, bleeding together. I swiped at her and missed.

  “Stop this now,” Lorcon said, his voice hard against my ear. He locked my arms behind my back, trapping me in place.

  I twisted and fought, but he held me like a vise. Across the room, Alain yanked Sydney back before she could lunge at me. The look he gave me was one of pure disgust, and it rotted my insides.

  “She attacked me first!” Sydney yelled, kicking at Alain’s leg to break free of him. “She could have hurt the baby.”

  “My baby is already hurting!” I yelled back.

  “Stop!” Lorcon boomed. His grip on my arms tightened. “This is serving no useful purpose. We are no closer to our combined goal for all this fighting.”

  Sydney slumped in Alain’s arms, the fight leaving her body as quickly as it had come. “You’re right, of course. I’m sorry, Alain. I know this isn’t helping.”

  But she didn’t apologise to me. Fire still burned in my veins. But I knew it was only my guilt and my fear for May’s life clouding my judgement. This was not the way to alleviate what I felt.

  So I swallowed the rage, bit down my retort, unclenched my fists, and took a deep breath. “Yes. I’m sorry, too.”

  Alain nodded, his gaze darting between Sydney and me, an unreadable expression on his face. “We should find our way to the surface.”

&
nbsp; Lorcon turned to Jack. “Could any of this equipment be used to trace the cloud’s whereabouts?”

  “Not right now.” Jack kicked the exploded laptop with his foot. “With a few adjustments, I could get the environmental monitor to feed coordinates into a GPS. I have some better equipment at the station, if they haven’t destroyed it. We could get there in ten minutes, and I could put together a badass cloud-tracking device.”

  Lorcon beamed at Alain. “We have another Cory in our midst.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  “It’s private,” Sydney snapped.

  Alain squeezed her arm, and she buried her face in his neck with a frustrated sigh.

  “Raine will lead me back to this station,” Lorcon said. “The two of you follow on foot as fast as you can. You’ll need to help Jack navigate the stairs.”

  “I’m not leaving Sydney,” Alain said.

  “As you wish.” Lorcon whipped his coat around his body, and a few moments later, soared up the stairs.

  With one last withering look to Alain and Sydney, I transformed and flew after him.

  At the top of the stairs, we passed through the darkened building and flew out into the night. The light brought the full horror of what we’d unleashed.

  I’d spent many long nights wandering around the wasted streets of the desert with Jack, hunting for food and useful items in the abandoned houses, playing out our own doomsday scenarios as we swanned around the deserted streets like we owned the place. The desert was always a kind of haven for us, still and silent, a world out of time.

  But now, the place teemed with activity. Vehicles crowded the streets, parked on odd angles to create cordons and avoid the debris. Roadblocks had been set up, and tanks rolled over the piles of refuse, patrolling the length of the dome. Men and women clad in black body armour and holding machine guns ducked in and out of buildings.

  Overhead, helicopters whirred, their powerful lights sweeping over the streets, lighting up the shards of glass dotting the pavement. Along the perimeter, cranes swung between the buildings, some carrying film crews, others swinging wrecking balls. Further back, behind a cordon, film crews and reporters had camped out, their cameras trained on the scene.