by Kevin Lucia
Frowning, she peered through the watery streams. She felt a low buzz at the edge of her mind, and her guts clenched. Something flailed at the room’s edge. Leathery tentacles slapped wet concrete. A high-pitched keening split the air, drowning out the distant fire alarms.
And then … the buzzing filled her mind. There, pushing itself upright, was one of them: fully grown, at last. Its hide glistened in the artificial rain and tentacles slithered in the disintegrating mass of its destroyed husk. It screamed and lurched towards her.
Therese felt the white river flicker. She closed her eyes and reached for it, found the tendril it had left. She tugged, tried to pull down the wall, release the fire. She felt a glimmering of power, a tingling in her fingers … then nothing.
She opened her eyes as the thing shrieked again. It had halved the distance between them.
“Shite!”
She turned and fled. The Tanara’ri thrashed after her. She had one chance, and it loomed before her: an access door to the stairs that descended into subterranean corridors. Though reserved for custodians and faculty, students often used them during the winter. The doors were usually left unlocked. Therese refused to think this one might be locked. It would open. It had to.
Her fingers closed on the handle and she jerked it open. Hope soared at the sight of the door below. If she could reach it, get through and jam it shut somehow …
Her right foot hit the first step … and slipped. The world tilted as she pitched downward. The thing’s rumble filled the stairwell, and even as she spun away into darkness, she recognized the bubbling sound for what it was.
Laughter.
As he charged, Hiram calculated quickly. Fortune smiled upon him. The aisle offered limited room. As the first two beasts slammed tables aside, the third Tanara’ri brought up the rear.
Perfect.
Tentacles snapped as he bent backward and slid feet first on the floor between them and past their fleshy whips. Once clear, he slammed his heels down, sat up and jammed both flares backward. Necrotic flesh burned and glistening fluids spurted.
The monsters screamed and their tentacles beat the air. He scrambled to his feet, reached into his satchel and drew another flare. He snapped it alight and with a roar plunged it deep into the oncoming Tanara’ri’s belly. Driving hard with his shoulder, he twisted the flare as they slammed to the floor. The Tanara’ri bucked until something exploded wetly inside, spraying Hiram with black guts. He slid off the still-spasming beast while the others shrieked. One must have ripped the flare out and was now rushing at him. The ground shook with each step.
Hiram rolled until he touched the Franchi’s case. He unlatched it, stood and brought the shotgun with him. The Tanara’ri kept coming. For this, he was happy.
He pulled the trigger.
Bluish-orange flame punched the custom-made slug into the closest leathery gut. It exploded into wet chunks. For good measure, he blasted the dying Tanara’ri next to him, also.
A shrill scream. Hiram spun and swore.
Stemmins. He’d forgotten all about the man. What he saw made his blood freeze. The remaining Tanara’ri had retreated, snagging the forgotten vice-provost along the way. Stemmins flailed. As he watched, a thick tentacle reared back and punched downward, tearing into Stemmins’ guts. The man bucked and vomited blood. The tentacle pulsed and pumped something into him.
The Hive buzzed in Hiram’s mind. They were coming.
“Dammit!” He’d no choice. The man was—had been—an asshole, but what was happening to him now, Hiram wished on no one. Still… there was nothing he could do. Rage burning, Hiram strained against the Hive’s pressure and backed out the door. Leveling the Franchi, he pulled the trigger … and saw the glimmering thanks in Stemmins’ eyes as their light faded.
The shotgun bucked against his shoulder as he fired again. The Dragon’s Breath flame threw everything into sharp relief.
Hiram turned away as the last Tanara’ri exploded. He didn’t need to see anymore.
Stopping for only a quick breath, he dug into his pocket for the EM scanner, pulled it out and re-calibrated it campus-wide. Satisfaction bloomed when the indicator blipped a pale yellow, revealing another source of confluent energy nearby.
“Fantastic.” He pocketed the device. “That’s got to be it—unless someone else on this blasted campus has been summoning sex demons.” He sighed. “One disaster at a time, old boy. One disaster at a time.”
A woman screamed and a cry of rage bounced off the walls.
Turning, Hiram raised his weapon and braced himself for whatever hurtled around the corner.
Therese landed hard, an aching jumble of arms and legs. Her backpack had twisted around in her fall, got jammed into her face. She desperately shrugged it off.
The Tanara’ri jigged after her. Deafening screeches echoed in the stairwell. Somehow, she gathered her wits, flipped onto her back and reached inside herself, seeking that strange white river. She found it; brimming, surging … waiting. With a scream, Therese lashed out and caught the monster midair with waves of power.
The beast shrieked and thrashed against invisible bonds, but she didn’t yield. As its rage grew, a strange calm filled her. She’d never felt anything like it before. Her mind split. There was old Therese: quiet and withdrawn, but there was a new Therese—one that felt cold, merciless. Both new and old Therese regarded this thing and realized with fierce pleasure that It could be caught, burned … and destroyed.
“You killed Reggie.” Her voice thundered in the stairwell. Barely restrained rage throbbed in her head. Power crackled at her fingertips. “You killed Reggie!”
The leathery thing fought and glared. She clenched her fingers, wrapped glittering bands of energy around It, and squeezed. “WHY?”
It roared and pushed back at Therese with a churning wave of darkness. Her skin crawled, but she held on, though her grip loosened. A slow, rumbling buzz filled her mind. WE WERE SUMMONED. BOUND TO SIX. WE FED.
“Why me? I didn’t do anything!”
IT MATTERS NOT. WE WERE SUMMONED, BOUND. NOW WE FEED.
Disgust filled her. “So you’re like dogs, then. Dogs that chase cars and don’t even know why.”
WE BELONG. YOU DO NOT. YOU ARE AN ABOMINATION.
“Bullshit!” She tensed her fingers. Power coursed through them. Its skin quivered.
NO. YOU ARE A CONSTRUCT. A FABRICATION. NOT REAL.
Her control slipped. Her lower back protesting, Therese slid to her knees and stood, hand still outstretched. She wobbled on unsteady legs but fought to keep her hold. “I don’t believe you!”
IT MATTERS NOT.
A chill ran up her spine. Something large rushed towards them. A buzzing rose and fell in her mind. She’d been played a fool, held here in a stalemate until more could arrive. She looked at the creature, her worst fears confirmed. The thing seemed larger. Tentacles snapped and curled with renewed vigor. Her power, however, flickered. She felt the white river ebb, the wall inside rebuilding.
She shuddered. Her hold slipped more. Sweat coated her face. Her head pounded with the strain, legs weak. Anger melted into fear, leaving her powerless.
“You knew. You were just waiting.”
It blinked and rolled its eyes. BALANCE MUST BE KEPT. WE MUST FEED. YOU DO NOT BELONG.
She bumped into the door behind her. She grasped her wrist and braced herself, as if that would help. It didn’t. “How? How is that possible?”
WE HAVE PURPOSE. YOU DO NOT.
“No!”
Invisible hands clawed at her mind. She looked upward and saw several dark, hulking forms clambering down the stairs. Dead human faces leered.
The final brick fit into place. The wall inside her rose and the power faded once more.
Therese spun, yanked the door open, flung herself through, and ran for all her worth. A dull boom echoed as the door slammed open. Shrieks reverberated behind her. Therese’s fear spiked, but she didn’t look back. She ran, her existence narrowed to surg
ing adrenaline, pounding heart, breathless fear. She braced herself on the wall as she scrambled around the corner, pursued by screams and slapping tentacles.
She heard something, like a shotgun pumping; then he rose: the man from Jimmy’s, pointing a gun at her: Her dreams made real.
“Get down!”
Without hesitation, Therese dove.
Hiram didn’t look as Therese flew by, trusting she’d land safely. Instead, he aimed at the adult Tanara’ri leading the way.
It was massive and quick. Patches of its hide looked scorched. Without a human husk, it moved quicker than its hybrid-brethren, though they, too, lurched with frightening speed. Hiram waited for the right moment, aiming for the apex of its next bounce … and pulled the trigger. Thick tentacles lashed out and pushed off the wall, launching it clear from his shot, which blew a smoking hole in concrete.
Panning across the hall, he fired twice; gutting the hosts lumbering towards them. Flaming chunks of necrotic tissue flew as he spun and tracked the adult Tanara’ri. Quicker than he could follow, it bounced off wall and floor, then slammed into him. Both fell, the Abyssal-spawn on top, Hiram on bottom, the Franchi jammed deep into its gut. The Tanara’ri squealed and tried to wriggle off. Its many eyes widened.
“Sorry. All out of helpless today. Try again tomorrow, perhaps?” The beast keened. Hiram grinned and pulled the trigger.
The empty clack thundered. Both man and monster froze, considering the implications.
“Oh, bollocks.”
The Tanara’ri blinked and rumpled with deep, wet laughter.
“Indeed? See how funny this is, you soggy …”
Light filled the hallway and a great wind blew over them. Deathly peace claimed Hiram as he stared, eyes wide, jaw slack in amazement.
The monster screeched as Therese yanked it off him and held it high. Energy swirled and crackled upon her skin. Her face and cobalt blue eyes looked cold, empty. The Tanara’ri struggled in her grip, but it seemed smaller, its essence drained. Through her aura, Hiram heard the creature’s thoughts.
NO! ABOMINATION!
She shook the Tanara’ri. “No. You are an abomination. You. Are. Impure.”
IT IS THE WAY!
A disgusted smiled cracked Therese’s mask. “Not anymore.”
Hiram eased away, crouched against the wall, and fumbled in his satchel.
CANNOT UPSET BALANCE!
Something terrible glimmered in her smile. “I am balance now.”
Transfixed by her cold beauty, Hiram dug another magazine from the bag and reloaded the Franchi. Therese’s voice intoned, emotionless, “I can burn it down. Make things pure. I’ll start … with you.”
He pulled the Webley from its holster, flipped the cartridge chamber open, ejecting the standard rounds. Moving slowly, eyes never leaving Therese’s transformed face, he reached into the satchel and withdrew a speed-loader, filled with the special iron slugs Bothwell had supplied. As he loaded the Webley, he wondered what the hell he was going to do next.
Darkness. She hated it. It lurked everywhere, and its hunger never faded. All it did was consume and destroy. As Therese’s heart throbbed with the white river, she pushed out waves of light against the darkness around them. She would destroy it. She would cleanse the world, make it pure and empty.
She squeezed the Thing in her hand. “Die,” she whispered, pouring the white river into it. Cracks glowed in its hideous flesh. She filled it with pure white fire. It shuddered once, then burnt through and exploded. Pieces of blazing tissue flew outward, then faded into the ether.
The darkness was gone. She’d made it pure. Peace settled over her, a sense of justice that she’d never known. Still—the thing’s brethren remained. Many surged towards them now.
Therese smiled. She’d destroy them, too. Then, the world would be next. The darkness must be purged, no matter where it hid. All must be purged, until everything was empty and pure.
Something clicked in her mind. She turned and gazed at the man she now knew to be called Hiram. She could see so much now. In him, too, lurked darkness, along with self-loathing. Despair. Hatred. And something else, oily life, growing in his belly. She reached out, the white river curling at her fingertips. “Hiram …”
Grimacing, he pointed his gun at her. “I’m sorry, love. Please—don’t move. Not another step.”
She frowned as the river surged within.
Hiram aimed the Webley at a spot between Therese’s eyes, finger tensed on the trigger, Franchi in his other hand. A buzzing alarm sounded in his head. More Tanara’ri were coming. They didn’t have much time.
Which was fabulous, really, because he had no idea what to do.
Therese broke the impasse. “You feel so much pain.” Her voice resonated with power. “So much darkness. I can take that away; give you peace.” In spite of the Webley, she took another step closer. “With your help, I can make it all go away. No more darkness. No more Abyss.”
Hiram tightened his grip on the Webley. His stomach twisted. Think of it. Lives spared. No more hunting. Destroy evil, rid the world of darkness.
Bring back Sadie and Mother.
He felt so damn tired. He spent his days drenched in monsters’ guts. A dreadful existence, really. The problem? Not all monsters were made of necrotic tissue, conjured by dark magic. Destroying the Abyss wouldn’t make monsters disappear.
Hiram shook his head. “You can’t do that, Therese.”
She leaned forward. Her smile shivered, cold and threatening. “Why not?”
Hiram retreated a step. “The Abyss exists for a reason, to maintain balance. That’s what I do: fight for balance, hold the darkness at bay… not eradicate it. That’s not my province. Besides, you can’t have light without darkness, not in this world.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how it works, but it does. It’s just not for us to decide.”
Cobalt blue eyes glowed. “But it could be.”
Another shriek, closer this time. The distant pressure of the Hive throbbed against his mind. “We’re out of time. If you’re in there, Therese, back off. We’ll finish this and talk to Mab. Maybe she can help, but right now, switch off the juice or I’ll …”
“Kill me?” She raised frosty-white eyebrows. “Do you really think you can?”
Hiram steadied his hand and thumbed back the hammer. Its echo clanged against his ears. “We’ll see, won’t we?”
Therese leaned in, arched her eyebrows and whispered, “No, I don’t think so. If you could kill me … you’d have done it already.”
The Hive thundered in his head. Sweat poured down his face. The Tanara’ri screamed in his mind, so much closer, and the halls echoed with shrieks and slithering, just around the corner.
Damn you, Mab. He began to squeeze the trigger …
Therese’s aura faded. “What? W-what’s happening?”
The light waned and Therese crumpled forward. Hiram spun, caught her in the crook of his arm, raised the Franchi in his other hand, and filled the hallway with fire.
Part 4
Outside
They’d driven in a holding pattern around University Quarter in South Belfast for two hours when a slight tremor shook the streets and buildings. All traffic grounded to a halt. Pedestrians shouted and ran. Distant sirens trilled. Mrs. Bothwell flipped opened her cell phone and hit a number on speed dial.
“Constable Billings.”
“Billings, this is Bothwell. How goes the good fight?”
“A bit hectic. Got a situation at University Quarter. Sounds like a low-grade explosion. Place is in a bloody panic.”
“Yes, that’s why I’m calling.”
“That so? What am I dealin’ with?”
“At the moment, you’re not quite sure. It’s all speculation, of course. I imagine your best hypothesis would be the Real IRA, though no cell has claimed responsibility yet.”
“That all?”
“Of course, you’re not ruling out an international terrorist attack.”
&nbs
p; “Right.” A pause. Pencil scratched paper. “Anything else?”
“It could be something different entirely, like Columbine or Virginia Tech, though you desperately hope not.”
“Sincerely. Now—what do you need?”
Bothwell smiled at Billings’ quick compliance. “Get your most circumspect men and evacuate the campus ASAP. When I’m apprised of the situation, I’ll call so your men can stay out of the way.
“Right. How bad is this?”
“Hard to tell. There’s a contagion threat.”
“Oh, hell. I hate those.”
“As do I. In any case, I’ll contact you when I know more. Good luck, Constable.”
“Aye.”
The line clicked dead, and Bothwell shut her phone. “He’s a good man, Billings.” She regarded milling pedestrians and halted cars. “Easy to work with. Not like most.”
“Yes, quite.” Alphonse Kline III paused. “Are you worried?”
Bothwell shrugged, but didn’t return Kline’s gaze in the rearview. “I’d guess Hiram’s in the thick, as usual.” She offered her driver a thin smile. “Of course I’m worried. It’s what I do. Besides, this is Hiram we’re talking about. If I wasn’t worried about him … well now, that would be cause for real worry, wouldn’t it?”
Kline remained silent. To herself, Bothwell whispered, “So what have you gotten yourself into this time, Hiram?”
“Therese … move!”
Hiram yanked a dazed Therese behind him as the last adult Tanara’ri jigged down the hall. She stumbled and fell, but he couldn’t do anything about it as he took aim. One Tanara’ri, one shell left. He’d have no chance to reload.
He targeted its next bounce. At the last moment, a tentacle uncoiled and flicked down to the floor. He held the trigger a heartbeat longer. The creature pushed off and bounced towards the ceiling. Hiram smoothly tracked it. As soon as the Tanara’ri entered his line of sight the Franchi thundered and the Tanara’ri exploded, taking a whole bank of fluorescent lights with it, filling the air with iridescent fireworks. Ceiling tile and glass rained down.
