by Chris Fox
“We’re doing just fine on our own, thanks,” Liz said, tone dry and eye roll implied behind her oversized sunglasses.
“We can use the help,” Bridget said, though there was a certain reluctance to the admission. She sat in the chair next to Captain Douche, though she hadn’t made an attempt to touch him since he’d rebuffed her advance earlier. Must be tough on her seeing the guy again, especially knowing that her new-found pack harbored such an intense dislike for him. “He’s been a werewolf as long as anyone except Blair and he has more knowledge of the Ark than any of us.”
“Bridget’s right. He could definitely be an asset. You’re welcome to come if you’d like, Steve,” Blair allowed, donning his sunglasses as he left the relative shelter of the pavilion. If it could be called that. It was really just a tarp and some poles.
Jordan frowned. Blair looked at this guy like a friend, but Steve's body language was all wrong for that.
“I’d be happy to join you. Maybe I can teach you a few things about shaping,” Steve offered, magnanimous and smug all at once. Jordan wanted to pound that smugness out of him. He’d be damned if he’d allow Steve to undermine Blair.
“I’d guess that’s the other way around,” Jordan rumbled, taking a step closer to loom over Steve. At 6’4” most people were immediately intimidated, but Steve stared up at him with an amused smile. “You saw how Blair handled that last fight. He caught and held over a hundred zombies. Can you do that, Steve? Because I didn’t see you do much of anything.”
The man’s demeanor wavered, as uncertainly flitted across his face. It was gone in a moment. “I suspect I could if I had to. That’s far from my only trick, though. You’ve already seen that I shift with my clothes. Can any of you do the same?”
Jordan fumed silently, not answering. He looked to Blair for support, but the man just shrugged.
Steve’s smile grew still more smug. “I thought not. There’s much I can teach you if you can put aside your animosity and listen. Blair did the same for you, unless I am mistaken, Commander. Weren’t you an enemy not so long ago? I seem to remember you doing your damnedest to kill me and I suspect the same is true of Blair.”
“I had orders,” Jordan growled, eyes narrowing. “I freely admit Mohn was in the wrong on this one, but can you blame us? We were trying to stop the spread of werewolves. We had no idea the zombies were coming. What the hell else did you expect us to do?”
He looked to Liz for support, expecting her to break up the squabble. Instead, she stood there with arms crossed, watching.
“I’ve heard about enough of this,” Blair said, rising to his feet. The fire had returned to his eyes. “We don’t have time for a pissing contest. Liz, do you have a problem with Steve coming with us?"
“I’ll take all the help we can get,” Liz said, slinging her pack and heading for the jeep parked next to the pavilion. She did take a moment to shoot a distasteful stare at Steve over the rim of her sunglasses.
Blair rounded on Steve, eyes challenging. “Jordan has been invaluable. Whatever beef you have with him, put it aside. He’s had my back through some rough shit and odds are good he’ll save your ass before the day is out.”
“Blair? Is that you?” Steve said, uncoiling from his chair. He gave a sly smile, the sort you wanted to punch repeatedly until the guy doing it was unconscious. “I didn’t recognize you with a backbone. Have they put you in charge? Because you’re certainly acting like it.”
“Quit being such an asshole,” Bridget interrupted, surging from her chair and shoving a finger in Steve’s face. “You’re jealous. It’s all over you. Blair did what you couldn’t. He woke the Mother. He controlled those zombies today. All of them. So what if you can transform with your clothes? You’re trying to act all mysterious and wise, but you don’t know shit. Just a few dribbles you stole from the Mother’s mind while she was sleeping.”
Jordan couldn’t help but smile when he saw the effect the words had. Bridget had just called him out, and his expression said her assessment was spot on.
“You’re taking Blair’s side?” Steve barked. He struggled for words, face going splotchy as his eyebrows drew together like thunder clouds. “Seriously? Bridget, you flirted with him for weeks while I was dying. You think I didn’t know? I was dead to you, but the second we were both captured you suddenly wanted me again. Because Blair wasn’t around. You’ll take whichever one is available, you unfaithful bitch.”
Blair blurred. Jordan couldn’t track him, not even close. One instant he was standing near the edge of the pavilion, the next his fist was connecting with Steve’s jaw. The force of the blow flung Captain Douchey tumbling across the pavement. It was the sweetest thing Jordan had tasted in weeks.
Before Steve could rise, Blair was there, kneeling on his back. He leaned close, hands gripping Steve’s shoulders so the man couldn’t rise. “You’re right. She was unfaithful, but she’s also my friend. More than that, she’s an ally, Steve. A member of my pack. You are not. You? You’re the unfaithful bastard who cheated with my girlfriend right under my nose, despite claiming to be my best friend. So don’t go aiming for any sort of moral high ground here. You’re both in the wrong.
“To answer your question earlier, no I’m not in charge,” Blair continued, releasing Steve and standing up. “Liz is. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to sit around and tolerate your bullshit. You want to help? Great. Fall in fucking line or you aren’t welcome here. We clear?”
“Crystal,” Steve said, rising gracefully to his feet. Blair turned on his heel and headed for the jeep. He missed the way Steve glared hatefully after him.
Suddenly, Liz's silence made sense. She'd made Blair step up and defend the pack, strengthening his own position. Clever.
Jordan tensed at the sudden vibration in his pocket. The geolocator. It was the first time it had done anything in days. Had Mohn sent another broadcast? He turned and bent next to one of the crates in the corner. He opened it, pretending to survey the array of pistols laid out on the thick grey foam. Then he deftly plucked the geolocator from his pocket. He bent low over the screen, scanning the notification.
It was a transponder ping, sent from members of his unit at timed intervals. The little green arrow was pointing north. Someone was out there, but there was no way to know how far. The thing had over a thousand-mile range, so they could be in the next village or somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico. Whoever it was, they were coming closer, though. That much he did know.
Chapter 36- Anakim
“Observe carefully, Trevor,” Irakesh instructed, turning to face the throng of nascent deathless before him. They crowded the inside of the hangar, packing the area between the odd metal conveyances that these moderns referred to as airplanes. “I am going to create an Anakim, one of the most potent servants the deathless possess.”
“A giant?” Cyntia rumbled, her blonde fur barely visible in the near darkness.
Irakesh was genuinely surprised. It should have been impossible for any memory of the Anakim to survive. “Just so. How do you know of them?”
“From the Bible,” Cyntia explained, giving a furry shrug. “The Anakim were giants. My mother used to scare me with stories when I was little.”
“You’re going to make a biblical giant?” Trevor asked, raising an eyebrow. He rested the barrel of a rifle against his shoulder, the weapon cradled with the same casual familiarity Irakesh exhibited with his na-kopesh.
“A giant, yes. But I seriously doubt it will resemble anything from your silly book,” Irakesh said, turning back to the horde of nascent deathless. He scanned the crowd, looking for the best candidate to begin his work. “There. Do you see that one with the bristly hair? The tall one.”
The deathless he’d indicated stood at least seven feet tall, an extreme rarity in his time. It was heavily muscled, probably a combatant in one of the games the moderns called sports.
“I see him,” Trevor allowed, taking a step closer as his gaze landed on the deathless Irakesh had indi
cated. “What are you going to do?”
Irakesh didn’t answer, instead raising a hand and aiming three fingers at the deathless. He concentrated for a long moment, gathering the energy until his hand began to glow. Emerald light banished the shadows as his hand grew brighter, the sudden illumination drawing every eye in the hangar. Each deathless stared hungrily at his hand, all sensing the power there and understanding on some dim level that it would make them stronger.
A bolt of light shot from Irakesh’s hand, streaking into the large deathless’s chest. It played across his entire body, crackling like lightning as the change began. The deathless’s eyes flared green, and his teeth began to lengthen. Then he lunged suddenly, seizing the corpse of a slight woman like a wolf might a hare. He began to feed, as urgently as Cyntia in the throws of her most berserk fury.
“What did you do?” Trevor asked. His eyebrows drew together as he studied Irakesh’s creation.
“I have accelerated his metabolism,” Irakesh explained, using words that would be familiar in this age. He allowed himself a slight smile as the change continued. “For the next few hours the Anakim’s hunger will be even more insatiable than usual. He will devour every nascent deathless he can reach. Each one will make him larger and stronger. In an hour he will be taller than Cyntia.”
Irakesh needn’t have bothered explaining, for the change was clear enough for any to see. The Anakim’s shoulders and chest began to expand, tearing apart the shirt that it wore as they grew larger. The creature took a step towards another victim, gaining several inches of height even as it did so.
“If we had weeks I could make it strong enough to crush the Ka-Dun following us, but even this pitiful creature will be a threat,” Irakesh said, giving a low laugh. He turned to face the largest plane in the hangar, one near the wide doors leading to the runway. “Come, we have work to be about.”
He strode deeper into the hangar, dimly aware of the Anakim growing larger behind him. Bones cracked and popped as it fed, low grunts growing deeper as the creature's strength increased.
Chapter 37- Satisfaction
Blair couldn’t help but grin as he wallowed in childish delight. He leaned back against the jeep’s cracked leather seat, throwing an arm over the back of Steve’s uncomfortable spot in the middle. A glower descended, clearly making Steve’s displeasure known. It warmed Blair.
For so many years he’d trailed after Steve in college and then later grad school. It had always galled him how easily things came to Steve back then. Steve had the grades. He had the body. He had the women. So many women. He was notorious at parties from Stanford to Berkeley.
Blair had struggled for his grades while gorging on too many late night cafeteria pastries. Steve’s dorky friend. It was embarrassing to think about, but at the same time liberating. He’d just proven to himself that he wasn’t that guy anymore. He’d grown and changed in so many ways. He was Steve’s equal. Hell, maybe his better if he hadn’t just gotten lucky back there.
“Bridget,” Jordan called over his shoulder from the passenger’s seat. “I brought an extra couple clips for that .460 I gave you earlier. Might save your ass if we get into an extended firefight.” He offered a pair of heavy black clips over his shoulder.
“Thanks,” Bridget called back, shifting in her place on the other side of Steve. She took the ammo, tucking the clips into her pants pockets. Blair was impressed by how naturally it seemed to come, the ammo and the weapon belted to her thigh. She’d been spending a lot of time with Jordan and it looked as though it had paid off.
Blair’s hand lay tantalizingly close to the soft curve of her shoulder. He remembered her leaning into him while they stared out across Lake Sonoma or in front of the fire in their first apartment. He smiled, withdrawing his arm and dropping it into his lap to give Steve a little more room. It wasn’t smart treading over those memories, but for the first time in a while they didn’t hurt. Did that mean he’d moved on? To what?
“Eyes front,” Jordan boomed. He unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned out the window, anchoring himself to the chair with his legs. Blair leaned out his own window and shaded his eyes as he scanned the road ahead. What had Jordan spotted?
A vast airport equal to anything back in the States sprawled before them, curiously devoid of zombies. Not a single figure moved between the planes on the tarmac, or anywhere inside the wide windows on both floors of the terminal. That shouldn’t be possible.
“This place should be crawling,” Blair said, ducking back into the car. Bridget and Steve were looking in his direction, but Liz was focused on driving. “Where the hell are all the zombies?”
“We saw Irakesh control them before,” Liz said over her shoulder. The jeep rumbled down a steep hill maneuvering around a battered Volkswagen. She reached out and tugged Jordan back into his seat. The ease of it made Blair shudder. “Jordan, what would you do if you could control a horde of zombies and knew we were coming?”
The taller man pursed his lips as he scanned the tarmac, wheels clearly turning as he assessed.
“I’d concentrate most of them around my objective, as tightly as possible. I might send a significant force to delay the enemy, but only if I could do it without giving away my position. I’m guessing his objective is a hangar here, so that means if we go tarmac to tarmac we’ll find him eventually.” Jordan replied, turning to eye Blair over his sunglasses. “Can you give us a hint? I know you can feel him.”
“Give me a sec,” Blair said, closing his eyes. He reached out, allowing his senses to roam the area. He sought a certain resonance, half feeling half intuition. There. A strong pulsing, like a heartbeat. It was stronger than it had been before and he’d picked it up much more quickly. Did that mean Irakesh was closer?
It does, Ka-Dun. He is near. Be wary. That one is exceedingly dangerous.
The beast’s voice was a welcome presence. It was truly a part of him now. He opened his eyes. “Over there, to the left. It’s one of those warehouse-looking buildings on the far side of the airport.”
“Those are private hangars,” Jordan replied. He removed his glasses, delivering a sobering look as he turned to face the back seat. “One of them is the Mohn facility I told you about. Where the nuke was stored. I’ve only been inside once and I didn’t see much, but the building houses a full Mohn facility.”
Blair supposed even a man with a rank like commander wasn’t privy to everything. It was still odd seeing a gap in Jordan’s knowledge, though.
“You think Irakesh is heading for it? How could he possibly know it even exists?” Liz asked, glancing at Jordan as she guided the jeep onto the road paralleling the airport. It led directly to the private hangars.
“I can steal memories. What if he can, too?” Blair said, chilled by the thought. How old was Irakesh? If the deathless could plunder memories, how much did he know about the world? How many lives had he lived?
“It’s possible,” Jordan allowed, turning to face the road. “There were three people at the Ark who knew about this place. Both were extracted when you attacked. Corporal Yuri Filipov and Major Sanders. Both left by helicopter. If either went down in the CME, I guess Irakesh might have found the wreckage. Maybe he captured one of them or has some other way of learning this location. Either way it seems unlikely he’d show up at the exact spot Mohn was storing a nuke unless he knew about it.”
“So we assume he’s there and that the nuke is his objective,” Liz said. She romped on the gas, sending the jeep jolting forward. The hot wind whipped Blair’s hair about as he scanned the buildings ahead. “Whether it is or not, we go to the one Blair says. I’ll just keep driving until you give us a target.”
Blair stared hard out the window, watching the eight-foot chain fence roll by as they passed the first of the hangars. There were roughly a dozen, lining both sides of the cracked asphalt. A few cars dotted the road, but the place was eerily empty. A tomb to mark the passing of an entire civilization.
The sun hung low in the sky, threatening
to sink into the vast Pacific that swallowed the western and southern horizons. It cast a bloody hue over the buildings, a fitting mood for the work they were about to engage in. What would Irakesh do if they finally caught him? What hidden powers did he possess?
“There,” Blair called, stabbing a finger out the window. He could feel the pulse now, strong and clear. “That building on the right. Three down. He’s in there. I’m sure of it.”
Liz gunned it, tires squealing as she jerked the wheel left. They shot through an opening in the fence, the jeep bouncing as a tire hit the curb. The air reeked of burnt rubber and exhaust as they rocketed towards the building Blair had indicated. There wasn’t a single plane, bus or car in the vicinity.
The wide chrome hangar grew larger as Liz gave the vehicle still more gas. Was she going to slow down? It didn’t matter, not to him. He was still thinking like a human, but he’d become far more than that. Blair blurred.
Liz’s copper hair writhed in the wind like a mass of tiny snakes, fanning backwards on either side of the headrest to his place in the back of the car. Steve was just beginning to turn his head, mouth slowly opening. His chest expanded as he sucked in a breath to say something. Then Blair was gone.
He opened the door, rolling onto the hot asphalt. The jeep lumbered next to him, a snail creeping along. It would take an eternity for it to reach the hangar. He blazed forward, wind ripping at his clothing as he crossed the distance to the small door set into the center of the hangar. Forty-six was emblazoned above it in crisp red letters, as if painted onto the blinding metal surface just the day before.
Blair rolled into a crouch before the door, slowly standing until his face was even with the little window. It too was mirrored. That made sense, of course. Mohn wouldn’t leave an obvious way to see into one of their facilities, especially not one where a nuke was being held. No matter. He cocked his arm back, balling his hand into a tight fist. He blurred forward, punching it through glass in a spray of tiny shards.
