Doom 3™: Worlds on Fire

by Matthew Costello

  “Kane, what’s happening?”

  More blasts in his ear from Kelly’s position.

  Then: “Kane—Maria here. You okay?”

  Maria. In Alpha.

  “Just a minute—”

  He pulled both triggers, and the automatic handguns started drilling the worker’s head. Until there wasn’t a head anymore.

  Yeah, thought Kane, some jail time in the states might have been the better option.

  He turned back to the elevator door, which was when he saw some other grunts had just arrived—three marines just ahead. For a split second, Kane didn’t feel alone.

  Maria heard Kane’s gun blasts. She was about to check if he was okay, when things got a bit too busy for her in Alpha.

  The thing that used to be Rodriguez lay at her feet, dead, its body riddled with shells from her weapon.

  Andy Kim and Deuce Howard, both also in Bravo Company, and both amazingly okay, came running up to her.

  “What the hell happened to Rodriguez?” Kim yelled. “Did you—”

  Maria nodded. “Listen, Kelly is in and out. And who the hell knows where Hayden is. I think we better try to secure this area.”

  Deuce Howard laughed. “You mean ‘secure,’ like make sure if anyone else goes Rodriguez’s route they also get killed?”

  “Yeah. That’s exactly what I mean.”

  Kim gave Maria’s shoulder a bump. “So you’re the boss lady now?”

  “We could debate strategy, if you like, while these things start spreading throughout the city. And speaking of that, how the hell did you two miss that blast?”

  Kim grinned. “We sneaked off into a storage room for a smoke. We have spots where the air detectors are off. A little technique we developed. Though I think the whole computer system is all screwed up.”

  “I bet,” she said. “Okay, let’s hit the corridors together. Eyes open. Not sure what happens if one of those things—”

  “You mean the zombies?”

  They both turned to Howard.

  “Zombies?”

  He nodded. “What the hell else you gonna call ’em?”

  “Zombies…” Maria repeated.

  The three of them started running down the half-lit corridors of Alpha.

  Jack Campbell stood up in the weapons room. The lights had gone out, and for a few moments after the blast—

  An earthquake? A reactor explosion?

  —he was knocked to the floor in total darkness. After the lights flickered back on, he felt the back of his head. A gash, some blood.

  But he wasted no time going to his PDA, scrolling down to Swann’s ID. For a few seconds there was no signal. The shockwave must have taken down the communications system throughout the city.

  He touched the contact icon again and this time heard the chirp of the signal connecting. Then a voice: “Y-yes.”

  About as frightened a single word as Campbell ever heard.

  “Hey,” Kane called, “you guys know—”

  The trio turned slowly, in a way that was already becoming sickeningly familiar. They used to be space marines.

  Used to be,Kane thought.

  Now, who knew what the hell they were. They started moving toward him, faster than Ishii.

  All that good marine training, Kane guessed. Semper fi’.

  He whipped out his handguns, while they prepared to level a range of much meatier weapons at him. Kane’s eyes darted left and right, looking for cover.

  He spotted a niche backing up to what looked like a storage locker, and he quickly moved into it.

  Great. This is just perfect. Boxed in here, while they keep coming.

  Bullets from their weapons, the machine guns, and blasts from their high-powered rapid-fire shotguns, started pinging and ricocheting and blasting into the walls beside Kane.

  No. This would never do.

  He crouched down, and when there was the slightest letup in the hail of bullets, he leaned out, crouched as low as possible.

  It took only seconds for the three marines to see that Kane had gone down to the ground. In that moment Kane fired straight up, wasting no time on body shots, instead blasting away at the skulls. Shots immediately sent two of their skullcaps flying to the ceiling, while the entire corner was sprayed with their blood.

  But even in the dim light, Kane could see that their blood wasn’t red anymore.

  Was it even blood? Or something else?

  The two marines, now largely headless, stumbled back, then down to the ground, knees smacking hard to the ground.

  But where was number three?

  The answer came suddenly, surprisingly, from the side as something curled around Kane’s neck, tightened, and with amazing strength yanked him to his feet.

  Maria worked with Kim and Deuce, forming a three-person phalanx. Some of the zombies—

  (She had now accepted that term. After all, what other word could they use?)

  —were workers. And they moved slowly, stupidly. Without any weapons, they were easily dispatched.

  Maria recognized some of the distorted faces, men, women she had seen in the corridors of Mars City, or in the cafeteria. Now twisted, misshapen, like wax faces left out in the hot midday sun.

  “Christ,” said Deuce. “This is too much. What the hell—”

  “Easy,” said Kim. “We got other company.”

  Maria glanced back at Kim’s corner of their three-point defensive position. Space marines coming toward them, now zombies, dragging their weapons like kids might drag a teddy bear.

  But then, one—a guy Maria had seen for a year and hadn’t said more than two words to—started to pull up and aim his dragged weapon.

  “Hell, they’re going to fire at us!” she said. “Kim, keep those others away. I’m going to turn.”

  Then she spun around so that now both she and Deuce faced the marines. She fell to one knee and raised her machine gun, sending an arc of fire flying right up one zombie marine’s body as if trying to create perforation lines right up the center.

  But then that creature kept coming and started to raise his weapon.

  “Damn,” she heard Deuce say. She felt Kim at her back, plugging away at the civilians.

  Then she looked at the zombie’s poached-egg eyes, the dime-sized pupils moving back and forth.

  Fucker’s trying to take aim. Let’s see how he does that without eyes.

  Maria blasted both sockets. And not only did it stop the zombie from taking a shot, but she had stopped it cold.

  “Good, I got one—”

  But then next to her she heard a groan. Deuce dropped his weapon, and his hands went to his chest where an opening bloomed, squirting blood.

  Maria only glanced at her dead partner, then returned to shoot at the zombie about to attempt to blow her away.

  “Bastard,” she said, firing. “Eat this—”

  And she sent a half-dozen shots neatly into the thing’s head.

  “Maria, Deuce, I got them, I think—”

  Andy Kim turned around and saw Deuce on the ground, the open chest wound still gurgling.

  Deuce Howard’s lifeless eyes were beyond caring.

  “Come on,” Maria said. “We got to clear this area. God knows how many more of these are walking around.”

  Kim seemed frozen, numb, glued to the ground.

  “Come on Andy. He’s gone! Now get the hell up.”

  And finally Kim stood up and they started walking through the corridors of Alpha.

  “All right, listen up, Swann. Are you someplace safe?”

  Campbell waited.

  “I—I think so. Quiet here. Nothing coming out of Delta. Doors sealed, I think.”

  “Good. That’s good. Okay, here’s what we’re going to do…”

  Campbell imagined Swann crouched in some dark corner, shivering maybe, his body a wreck from fear.

  Got to give him a little steel,Campbell thought.Get some balls into the guy.

  “You’ve done good, Swann. You’re out of th
e lab. You’re alive, safe. I’m going to try to secure Administration, get Hayden to make sure that this part of Mars City is clear.”

  “Right.”

  “But I need you—”

  He heard a breath of air.

  “Weneed you to get to the Comm Center. It’s the only way to get a communication out to deep space until all systems are back up and running. We’re going to need reinforcements. The armada is out there, just circling. Describe the situation—”

  “The situation? The situation! Campbell, what the hell is—”

  “Swann. Calm down. You hear me?” He raised his voice. “Okay. I don’t know what it is, counselor. But whatever the hell is going on here, we can’t handle it ourselves. So, someone has to get that message out, someone with the clearance to have it listened to. You’re over there; it has to be you.”

  Nothing for a second.

  “Swann, you still there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you do this?”

  A longer wait. Definitely a lot to put on the plate of the UAC’s legal mouthpiece.

  “I can do it.”

  “Good. Stick to the shadows, watch every step. But move fast.”

  “Okay.”

  “Let me know when you get there.”

  “Okay.”

  “Oh, and Swann? Good luck.”

  “Right.”

  The signal went dead.

  Good luck—because the poor bastard was going to need it.In fact, we all are.

  He looked down at the massive chunk of firepower that was the BFG.

  Campbell touched it.

  You and me, hm? My new best friend.

  Just in case it all goes south here…

  35

  THEO LEANED OUT TO LOOK BACK AT THE HALLWAY,back to his mother and the nice soldier who had been with them.

  The soldier wasgone, and his mother stood there, her back to him.

  Maybe,Theo thought,she’s looking for me. Can’t find me. She’s probably scared, worried; she always worries so much.

  He crawled out a bit more from his hiding place.

  “Mom?” he said. Then louder, “Mommy?”

  And now she turned.

  Slowly…

  And in that slow movement Theo felt something was wrong. Something must have happened to his mom during that explosion. She was movingso slowly.

  Until she turned and faced him. What had been her blouse was ripped in places. And he saw blood.

  For a second, Theo felt worried about his mom. She had been hurt.

  But that was before he looked up to her face.

  Her eyes.

  He remembered…

  Their last week on Earth. Walking past a house. Toys in the yard, a plastic riding car, some soft darts, and there was this clown-head toy.

  Not smiling. Almost looking mean, mad—and on top of its head, a hat, like an upside-down ice cream cone. With a hole on top—and you could shove things into the clown’s head.

  Theo had looked at it as he walked past the house. The face, so scary. Thinking: maybe you could stuff things in the head and make the clown smile.

  And now—

  His mother’s face—

  (Thinking,It’s not my mommy’s face. That’s not her, that’s not her, that’s not her—! )

  He screamed as she walked to him, like a baby learning to walk, but then a bit faster. Her eyes all bulgy like melted marshmallows, the mouth sliding around, opening, shutting, maybe trying to speak.

  He kept screaming, and now his mother was only steps away, and Theo couldn’t even move.

  Kane dangled off the floor, held up by this huge chunk of muscle, gristle-like, tightening, closing his windpipe. Then the soldier holding him up started shaking Kane left and right, dragging him across the floor.

  In seconds it would all be over.

  If he didn’t get some damn oxygen into him in seconds, then this day on Mars was over.

  His left hand still held a gun. But that arm was pinned by the two-armed grip of the twisted marine that held him.

  But that hand still had a gun. He felt that the thing’s grip was weaker on his other arm. He might be able to work that arm free—

  In those precious seconds…

  He tried to stretch his right hand over and close on the gun stock, but he could barely graze the muzzle. A bit more grunting stretch, even as he felt that the thing might try ripping Kane’s neck in half, its forearm mutated into a constrictor-like coil.

  His fingers closed on the muzzle. His left hand let go. And now, holding the muzzle as tight as he could, he tensed, and then he used all his right arm strength to break that arm free.

  Nothing happened.

  Another grunt. And then the sweat, and some sticky slime oozing from the marine’s skin must have made it a bit more slippery, and his right arm wasfree.

  At the same time his right foot touched the ground.

  He had to move fast. An option that he hoped that thing holding him didn’t have.

  Kane now had to shift the hold on the handgun by making his fingers crab-crawl over its surface, turning the muzzle to face out, then grabbing the handle.

  Then, with the thing about to reapply its death grip, he brought the freed arm up.

  The gun muzzle jabbed instantaneously under the chin of the thing, and then three quick blasts.

  It took a second for the marine’s body to react.

  But then Kane’s two feet were once again on the ground, the viselike grip released and, like a boa uncurling, the flesh noose around his neck unwound.

  The thing tumbled back. Kane noticed that he had been sprayed with whatever came out of the thing’s head—a sick slimy purple.

  He hurried to the elevator, and the way back up.

  MacDonald held his arms tight across his chest, as if holding his arms that way might somehow make him safe.

  Not that the things coming into the lab, the creatures now pouring out of the ever widening opening that used to be Pod One showed any interest in him at all. He noticed that a few tall things, nearly human-looking with legs and heads, would take a few steps and…

  Disappear.But to where?

  He noticed that he mumbled, sitting there, curled tight. Talking to himself as a lifeline to sanity.

  Got to keep talking to myself,he thought.

  Simple words and phrase—No, what’s that, have to watch, have to tell people, have to, have to—

  Betruger, carrying something, had vanished into the pulsating opening, now glowing with a dozen shades of fiery crimson.

  (Into it!)

  MacDonald looked down at his PDA.

  But the screen said very calmly, very matter-of-factly, “Local failure: all communication links currently disabled.”

  So for now, there was no one to tell, and nothing to do but sit and watch.

  First the walls glowed, the network of circuitlike spirals and connections suddenly…now on.

  And Axelle became momentarily distracted from the fact that she couldn’t see a way out of this subterranean trap back to the surface. Only a few air tanks lay cached down here.

  And after that?

  But then the colors began changing, the walls pulsing with color. She heard a low rumbling sound.

  (Sounds from below. Deeper into this hole…)

  What’s happening? What is this?she asked herself. But nothing in her work on Earth or Mars came even close to suggesting an answer.

  Then—a horrible moment—she felt the ground below hermove. Initially the ground rumbled a bit, the red dirt and rocks that sealed whatever this tunnel was, began to shift. The rocky cover, the cap to the tunnel, broke up into shards as if mere ice floes, and all this heat, and light, and noise could simply make it break up.

  The shards blew back, some flying several feet into the air. And Axelle now ran from side to side, ducking the flying shards, dodging the jagged pieces.

  Until she could quite clearly see a pattern.

  The rocks, the dirt—all that
sealed what was below—started getting piled to the side. Until the center of the floor became clear of rubble.

  And that floor…

  Not rock. Not dirt. More like a viscous membrane. She clung close to the terrible wall with the glistening circuits. But she knew nothing would stay the same here.

  No. This was about to change. Things moving, shifting, opening…

  Yes, something was opening.

  And then the membrane began to pull away from itself, actually rip and tear, working its way slowly from the center, then to the outer edges, ever closer to her.

  Axelle tried to dig a handhold into the wall, the clanging made by her spare air tank pinging painfully in her ears.

  But the smooth wall had also grown slick, covered with a shiny sweaty liquid.

  Her nails, her hands were useless as the opening hole of the membrane finally pulled away completely in one finalsnap.

  And with that, Axelle’s feet gave way, joining the chunks of Martian ground and rock, now sliding down, slowly at first, but then gathering speed, tumbling like a funhouse attraction, sliding down, curving around until her fall finally slowed.

  Then she stopped.

  She knew that—like it or not—there was no way back up. The only way for her to go was forward, to follow the glowing metallic veins leading ahead, and down.

  36

  LIEUTENANT HIRAM KOHL LOOKED AT THE MONITORSthat filled the Computer Systems Monitoring Room. By now, a bunch of scientists should have joined him here.

  Because nothing was working.

  He listened as computer voices dully announced the situation throughout Mars City.

  “Central computer system infected. Terminate all critical procedures immediately.”

  Right, thought Kohl, as if that were possible. Because…that was onlyone of the messages. Then another, equally dull, dispassionate voice.

  “Core failure detected.”

  Kohl looked at the board. He should send messages to people, but—from here at least—nothing was getting out.

  He spun around and looked at the door. Where the hell were the scientists who were supposed to come here when even the smallest problem happened? And this…thislooked like total failure.