Arbiter knocked Aeschylus back into the air, grabbed him by the arm, and yanked him back to the earth. The man landed, crumpled. Arbiter put his boot on his shoulder blade and pulled his victim’s limb, feeling the metal yield to his force. He could hear Aeschylus’s daughter screaming in the distance as he redoubled his efforts. It gave him no pleasure to do this to any child… but Aeschylus was determined to kill him or die.
“Arbiter, stop this!” the familiar voice of Colonel Morant shouted.
Arbiter turned to Morant, grimly regarding the distant Enforcer. “What do you think I’m doing?” With a final yank, the arm pulled free. Ariana screamed, but it was drowned out by an explosion directly in front of Arbiter, the force blowing him backward and sending him rolling across the pavement. “The… Gauntlets…” he heard himself say, but couldn’t remember willing the words to exist.
Zombress was bashed into a wall hard enough to fracture it, but she managed to dig into the tendril. She pulled as hard as she could, flinging the Nightmare like the end of a ball-and-chain into the wall. The thing blasted through the concrete partition. Her vision slowly cleared as the tentacle yanked again, whipping her through one wall and into another. The second she stopped moving, she grabbed the thing around her and pulled it once more, hurling it through a final wall. The tendril went limp enough for her to leap out of it. The oily thing slithered like a snake back to its owner.
Every part of her was screaming at her to rest, heal, anything, but she couldn’t spare the time. She blinked away the lights blinding her and followed the fleeing appendage through a hole in the wall and into the auditorium. Rising on the tentacles at its base, the Nightmare whipped around and propelled itself into the upper corner above the stage. As it nested, a tendril rammed itself into the ceiling, flinging debris and what looked like a body to the auditorium below. Zombress ran toward the stage when the previously unseen corpses of what appeared to be Italian mob goons stood at attention and leapt at her. Zombress scrambled to a stop as the first zombie fell short.
Another walking corpse lunged and grabbed her by the boot. The villainess hissed in annoyance at the attack. “I never realized how bothersome you things are,” the villainess grunted as she backhanded another lurching shell away from her. Zombress yanked her foot free and punted the floored zombie in its jawless skull.
Something tackled into her from behind, the dust-covered white armor of the SERAPHIM telling her who it was before she even flipped the thing off of her.
“Zombress!” Claymore shouted, running into the room from the stage right entrance. “I’ll take care of the–” He was cut off as two of the undead puppets dove on him and the other two shuffled toward the dog pile.
“Sure you will…” Zombress muttered, retraining her eyes on the Nightmare as it descended from the ceiling. She sprinted at the writhing mass of tendrils and one darted toward her. She leapt up and over, dodging the attack and rocketing downward, pinning the appendage between her foot and the floor. The Nightmare squealed and tried to free the tentacle, the sudden pull ripping it in two from beneath the villainess’s boot. Another tendril swung at her and she leapt, spinning in the air before bringing her fist down, trapping the squirming mass between her hand and the stage. She dug into the oily, writhing muscle with her free hand and pried it in two, black ichor spraying arterially out of the ragged stump.
Another tentacle flicked and caught her off guard, throwing her back into the empty seats. Claymore finished decapitating the reanimated Siren in time to see the Queen of Fear being tossed aside. He turned to the Nightmare, the red haired specter of his imagination, as another tendril snaked around and grabbed him by the neck. With a surge of adrenaline, he brought his sword up and sliced the tentacle open. The creature shrieked and dropped him as another tentacle sent him crashing behind Zombress.
The Queen of the Dead was on her feet, steeling herself as the Nightmare slithered two of its remaining tendrils into the sides of the stage and the last into the floor. Like a crosshair, a sigil for speed appeared in the air in front of the beast’s core. It pulled itself back, screaming as it did so.
“What is it doing?” Claymore shouted, getting up.
Zombress was too busy carving symbols in the air behind her back to answer him.
Arbiter rolled onto his stomach. How long had he been out? He still heard the sounds of battle around him, but now accompanied by a high-pitched whine. His eardrums were struggling to repair themselves from the explosion tearing them asunder. He tried to get his bearings, but saw nothing save for the blurry outline of others suddenly backing away from his movement. Hefting himself on his arms, he blinked away some of the blur, looking back to where he had left Aeschylus.
Someone – he could only assume Ariana – was over the body, kneeling. “Please, take off the suit, now, daddy, please… you need to see a doctor…” The words were miles away, but they were there. Aeschylus… Aeschylus still lived. He focused on that thought, trying to spur himself into action.
The villain struggled to his feet. Ariana tried to stop him, but he was determined to rise. He took uneven strides toward Arbiter as his daughter stepped into his path. Aeschylus gently pushed her aside and continued. She lunged for him, but someone held her back. “Let me go!” she shouted. “Dad, no!”
Arbiter tried to get to his feet, his broken body trying to mend itself. The proximity to the armor… it had been more effective than he wanted to believe. He had to get away… jump to safety. Just last long enough for the old man’s heart to stop…
Then Aeschylus was there, grabbing him by the throat and lifting him to his feet. Arbiter choked as the fingers tightened around his neck. The hero sneered. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of pleading.
“You killed my wife…” Aeschylus gasped. “You killed her brother…” Another intake of breath as he wobbled in place. “Countless others are dead… by your hand… or your actions…” His eyes, though clouded by painkillers, still burned with hatred. “I find it fitting… that you die… killing another…”
Aeschylus faltered, his hand still clasped around Arbiter’s neck. They hit the ground, the old man taking a final, rattling breath as his heart stopped. The gauntlet, no longer receiving feedback from his body, detonated its payload, making the world go white.
The Nightmare snapped forward, catapulting itself toward them. Zombress broke the seals on the sigils, and her movements accelerated a thousandfold. Her fingers etched the lines necessary to create a series of shields in the time it took for the beast to hit its own speed glyph and hurtle, head-first, into the glimmering shell. Unstopped, it collided with the next, and the next, and the next, sending shards of light scattering into the room. Zombress drew one last speed glyph and reached back for a final, knock-out punch as the thing destroyed another shield.
The final layer shattered as Zombress swung forward, her fist flattening the thing’s face, spraying black miasma like blood. The creature shot backward as Zombress jumped toward Claymore. She stole his sword and leapt after the Nightmare. Landing by its side, Zombress slammed the blade into its core, flipping backward when it started to shriek and flail.
“Elder Sign!” she shouted, carving a shield glyph into the air. The symbol burst and created a clear, flickering barrier around the Nightmare. Zombress leapt over the dome and carved another shape into it, visibly thickening it with a blast of light. She cartwheeled to the side and repeated the sign before leaping over it once more and adding a final symbol, the shield bursting brilliantly in response. The sound of the sword being ripped free and clattering against the shell prompted her to jump backward. Working from muscle memory rather than conscious action, she started a complex array of signs in the air and the floor simultaneously. One of the sigils shattered as she worked, making Claymore flinch, but Zombress continued undistracted, even as another glyph popped.
Zombress’s eyes snapped up as she stomped her heel down, the symbols around her glowing brightly as she did so. She held her hand alof
t as another glyph shattered. “Psychic Induction!” The Nightmare broke free of the shield, exploding out of it like a bullet toward Zombress. The sigils surged between them and flowed over the creature, weaving around and into its flesh while locking it in place. Electrical impulses flowed between the two and, with a ghastly howl, the Nightmare turned to what appeared to be dust, breaking apart and flowing into Zombress’s outstretched hand.
The remnants whirled and sparked into a growing ball, pulling more atoms out of the Nightmare. With a crack and wave of pressure, a red spark erupted from the disappearing beast, flowed into the ball, and shattered it into ribbons of faintly glowing symbols. The bands wrapped around Zombress’s body and hissed, burning into her before fading. She barely registered the powerful and painful cold rolling off of her, although it certainly was chilling her companion to the bone. Whatever the Nightmare had been had fully faded into the villainess, leaving no trace of its existence other than the destroyed Guild.
Zombress hunched slightly and took several deep, steadying breaths. Then, as though nothing had happened, she stood upright and brushed some of the larger chunks of building out of her hair. Almost casually, she tapped her earpiece. “Mollie, it’s done,” she whispered. Zombress turned to Claymore. “Now, what do we do with you?”
Ariana ran toward what remained of her father, tears welling up in her eyes. He lay near the crater where Arbiter was, smoldering. “No… no…” she cried as she slowed to a stop. “Daddy…” she said weakly before collapsing to her knees.
An arm shot out of the crater, and she stumbled backward. Arbiter, the charred, bleeding, somehow still-living man, clawed his way free of the earth around him. He rattled for air, cheekbone shining a glistening white in the night as ripped flesh dangled from the blood-red rags of his neck. Gurgling, he roared, a mighty wail which echoed off the walls of the city around her.
It washed over her like a wave. Ariana doubled over in agony, her face and body feeling like they were on fire. Others, too, were feeling the same psychic blast, dropping their weapons and crashing to the ground, clutching non-existent wounds. It wasn’t just the Enforcers: SERAPHIM forces were collapsing from the onslaught as the world turned red, slick pavement drying as droplets of water wafted up from the surface in a lazy mist.
The pain was almost too much, making Ariana hope that she would die, just to have the opportunity to not feel the crippling agony of Arbiter’s existence. She tried digging into the pavement, cracking her fingernails against it as she couldn’t help but cry out.
Ariana collapsed as though strings keeping her upright had been cut. Her face was pressed against the surprisingly warm, wet, and dirty concrete for what seemed like days. It took the prickles of the cool night air to make her realize she no longer felt the terrible pain of Retribution. She inhaled, deeply, lungs trembling at the sensation. With arms of rubber, she pushed herself into a position to see her tormentor. He lay motionless in the still night.
Is he dead?
Colonel Morant was the first to move, heading toward the body. He gingerly kicked it over, making Arbiter release a gurgling, raspy breath. He knelt by the fallen hero and began restraining him. His free hand went to his earpiece. “This is Colonel Morant. Arbiter has been captured.”
“I’m not going to prison for this. Not for what they dragged me into,” Claymore said, eyes on Zombress.
“You honestly think they won’t pardon you?” Zombress asked, folding her arms across her chest.
He smiled grimly. “Why would they? I’m one of Arbiter’s confidants. I had a job when everyone lost theirs.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “And you never reported anything suspicious about the reason the kill order was given at the Fortress.” She put her hands on her hips. “I suppose that is a pretty grievous error in judgment.”
“You don’t understand…” he began with a shake of his head.
“That you thought you would have lost everything? Your power, your position, your freedom?” Zombress gave the hero an indignant laugh. “Believe me, I know the excuses.”
Claymore shook his head. “I’m not staying here.”
Zombress ran to him and shoved him to the floor, hissing in his ear. “I know your kind. Stubborn enough to never change sides until it’s too late. Just following orders as others march to die. Happily selling their freedom for your own gain.” She flipped him over and stepped on his groin. “You’re not running.” She stared down at him, fighting the urge to grind her heel into his dick. “Maybe you’ll get lucky and be out in a couple of years.” She sneered as she looked at him. “But I wouldn’t count on it.”
“Zombress,” Mollie whispered in her ear.
“Yes, love?” she responded, bringing her eyes up to the ceiling.
“Archetype is no longer in the building.”
Zombress worked her jaw in disbelief. Her gaze fell back down to Claymore, his fearful eyes staring up at her. “Do we have his monologue?”
“It has already been uploaded to various video-sharing sites,” Mollie sighed.
She cocked an eyebrow. “Good. I can’t wait to see when the finger pointing begins.” She descended over Claymore, grabbed him by the body armor, and hoisted him upright. “Like it or not, you’re going to have to tell the truth to others who haven’t stabbed you in the spine soon enough.”
Ariana couldn’t tear her eyes away from the charred body that she knew, but couldn’t accept, was her father. He was gone… her whole family was well and truly gone. The sounds of the struggle were fading, replaced with a rumble which escalated into a cheer. The SERAPHIM must have stopped fighting, realizing their employer had been blown up.
Not that it mattered to her… Arbiter lived, her family died.
She wanted, needed more than anything, to have Tim walk up to her, kneel by her, and hug her in his strong arms. In some of her darkest moments, when she accepted that her father was going to die, she always thought that Tim would be there. Instead, she was alone. In his guilt and agony, her father had chosen to die to keep her safe rather than have her in a world where Arbiter could hurt her again.
A hand rested on her shoulder, shocking her back to reality. Ariana looked up as the badly battered Morgan knelt by her side and, in a pale imitation of what she wanted more than anything, held her. “I know how you feel,” she whispered. Ariana brought her hand up to hold the hero’s arm closer to her as a tear rolled down her cheek.
Another hand fell on her shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze, even if she didn’t welcome it. Ariana looked up with tear-stained eyes, watching Colonel Morant kneel by her father and shake his head. He stood as Zombress came walking down the Guild steps, dragging a black armor-clad prisoner. At the sight of Aeschylus, she shoved the man toward an Enforcer and crossed to the body. Recognition washed over her face and her eyes shut, as though she was in pain. Zombress quickly turned to walk away, putting her hand to her head in anger.
Colonel Morant walked by Ariana, facing the crowd behind her. Silence seemed to creep over the entire city, waiting for his reaction. He held up his fist triumphantly. The roar that greeted his action was intense, enough to startle Ariana to greater tears. She buried her head in the crook of Morgan’s arm, only now returning the grip she found herself in. The heroine started to cry, a sympathetic reaction.
Around her, others had taken victory.
Victory should have meant that her father was alive.
It should have meant that Tim was running to her right now.
Instead, it meant something so cold and hollow that she doubted she had ever known what the word truly meant.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
NORTHWOODS
“TAKE A RIGHT UP AHEAD,” Mollie chimed in Arthur’s ear. He obeyed, his legs feeling like rubber. “I apologize for the circuitous route.”
Arthur swallowed as he swiftly rounded the corner, his throat scratching against itself. “It’s fine. Rather have this than end up a drooling mess.” His mind rolled momentarily back to t
he conversation in which Catalina, stone-cold killer, seemed deathly afraid of Zombress. When Mollie told him to hide because of the Queen of the Dead, he hid. “So now it’s just me and our mystery guests, right?”
“There are no signs of the other heroes,” answered Mollie. “The control room is up ahead.”
“Any idea who the shooters are?”
“More and more cameras are being destroyed,” she said. Arthur raised an eyebrow as he reached the door, the keycard reader glowing a faint red. “Multiple floors. At least we were able to acquire audio and video evidence of Archetype’s betrayal.”
“How’s that working out?” he asked, fumbling for the keycard.
“Half a million views and a breaking news story on multiple fronts,” she responded. “We have temporarily dethroned the top videos of a dog saying ‘poinsettia’ and a skateboarder falling off a railing onto his genitals. Once again, I am amazed at your species’ continued survival.” Arthur nodded sympathetically as he shakily slid the card through the slot. “Once you are inside, you should be safe.” She paused, prompting Arthur to check over his shoulder the moment the light fizzed out. “Relatively speaking.”
A hiss signaled the release of the pressure lock. Arthur did a quick 180 to double-check the hall, backing through the door before securing it behind him. The lock re-engaged as he turned to face the chamber. The huge room stretched at least two stories; no doubt former first floor offices had been destroyed to make room for the gantries and wires running everywhere. A huge screen, affixed to the far wall, remained lifeless and black for the time being. Carefully, he moved through the rows of computer towers, stepping over wires.
“Are you there?” Mollie asked. Something about the question made him stop.
“Of course, Mol.”
Project Northwoods Page 71
