Hive II

by Griffin Hayes

  Hive II

  Copyright © 2012 Griffin Hayes

  Cover design by Kit Foster and Griffin Hayes

  Edited by Glen Krisch and Andrea Harding

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  -1-

  -2-

  -3-

  -4-

  -5-

  -6-

  -7-

  -8-

  -9-

  -10-

  -11-

  -12-

  -13-

  -14-

  -15-

  -16-

  -17-

  -18-

  -19-

  -20-

  -21-

  -22-

  -23-

  -24-

  -25-

  -26-

  -27-

  -28-

  -29-

  -30-

  -31-

  -32-

  -33-

  -34-

  Also by Griffin Hayes

  Novels

  Malice

  Dark Passage

  Primal Shift Vol. 1

  Primal Shift Vol. 2

  Novellas

  Bird of Prey

  The Neighbors

  Hive

  Hive II

  Hive III

  Short Stories

  The Second Coming

  The Grip

  Fatherland

  Collections

  Night Terror

  Nightfall

  Previously in Hive 1:

  Hired by Prior Skuld to search for four lost prospectors, Azina and her crew, accompanied by Keeper Oleg, a trader named Pennies and Glave come upon an abandoned shopping mall. It isn’t long before they discover the place is swarming with Zees and there isn’t a clear way out. Things go from bad to worse when Azina herself is bitten and tries to keep her infection hidden as it slowly creeps up her leg. But the pain isn’t the only thing that’s different. She’s starting to hear voices and quickly makes a startling realization. The Zees are all connected and someone’s controlling them. Soon the real reason for their mission comes to light. Prior Skuld is after a giant vault buried deep within the complex and the priceless artifact it contains. But what could be worth sacrificing so many innocent lives?

  -1-

  Hours after we escape the shopping complex, Sneak and I finally approach Sotercity, and right away I can see something isn't quite right. The bodies of four women swing from nooses, strung up over the eastern gate. They’re too well dressed to be petty thieves or hardened criminals. Below them, in a long, ragged line are hundreds of people all waiting to enter Sotercity.

  These aren't Grinders though, they're farmers from villages scattered throughout No Man's Land. Men and women who’ve struggled for years to eke out a living from barren soil. The Keepers say the land has been drying up slowly over the last fifty years and I can't imagine what it's like, waiting for seeds to grow in hardened clay. I also can't imagine living outside Sotercity's impressive walls: great slabs of steel that rise nearly a hundred feet into the air. The hulls from giant cargo ships that used to plow enormous lakes in the north. Some of that water's still there, but it's been a while since any ship was able to reach us. Even from outside I can hear the bustle inside the walls. As long as the overland trade routes stay open, anything you want can be had, for the right price.

  A farmer in front of me’s been bitching about the lineup since we arrived. He turns to commiserate and stops cold when his eyes light upon my face. Sneak digs her elbow into my side and starts signing. She keeps saying face, face and it takes me a minute to figure out what she's getting at. When it finally sinks in I yank my tunic up as far as it'll go, but even then a patch of rough darkened flesh remains visible. There's something else strange about these farmers. If they're coming to market, where's their produce? Hell, most of them are carrying trunks filled with clothes and strange bits of furniture. But the truth is they don’t look like farmers at all. They look like refugees.

  -2-

  A voice behind me says, “You shouldn't be here.”

  My mind starts to race. I hope to hell he isn't talking to me. Maybe they've seen my face, think I'm a monster. The line shuffles ahead. The city guards are checking everyone over before letting them inside. I'm not sure what they're looking for, but I'm starting to wonder what they'll make of me.

  “This line isn't safe for you,” the voice says again.

  I turn around. The man looking back at me is gruff and powerful. Shaved head. Square jaw, wild, bulging eyes. He looks like he's got a temper and the strength to back it up. This is no farmer.

  “Do I know you?”

  He smiles and two dimples form on his cheeks. “Your friend Oleg sent me.” His voice is gravely and rough with a slight twang I can’t place. A chunk from one of his ears is missing. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was an outlaw.

  “Oleg? Where is he?”

  “We can't talk here. The city guards are looking for you.”

  The line moves ahead. The guards search through a cart filled with bundles of cloth, poking it with sharpened spikes.

  “How do I know I can trust you?”

  His blue eyes are shining like brilliant jewels and I can't tell if he's fearless or crazy.

  “You don't, but I'm sure, by now, you know you can't trust them,” he says, pointing at the guards.

  We peel away and follow the city wall. The path leads down toward the dried lakebed. As we descend, the smell of raw sewage hits me like a shot to the gut. A second later, the source of the odor becomes clear. This is where the city's sewage system lets out. A steady stream of water pours from the tunnel. It's large enough to walk through upright and I can see the metal grate covering the entrance has been wrenched back.

  I grit my teeth at the stench. It brings back memories, none of them good.

  “I swore to myself I'd never walk through piss and shit ever again,” I say.

  “Get used to it,” the man says. He's about to climb inside when Sneak and I stop dead.

  “We’ve come this far, but we aren't gonna take another step until you answer some questions.”

  Impatience flashes across his face. “There isn't time.”

  “Unless you wanna make this sewer your tomb,” I say, spitting on the ground for emphasis, “then I suggest you make time.”

  He stops. “What do you wanna know?” His arms cross over his chest and I notice the gloves he's wearing. They look like steel gauntlets, with spikes at the knuckles. Similar spikes line his boots, tied in place with thick leather straps.

  “Never seen a Merc who didn’t use a gun,” I say.

  “Let’s just say I like to keep it out of sight.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Krantz,” he says coolly. His foot keeps tapping the gravel beneath his feet, the blades at the toe of his boot chiming softly.

  “Where are my friends?”

  “The Keepers have Oleg, Ret and Bron in the Citadel. They're scheduled to be executed tomorrow morning, unless we can do something about that.”

  My heart sinks. The same look of despair is mirrored on Sneak's grease-stained face. Then Skuld’s haggard features loom before me and my fear quickly turns to anger. After killing that fifth Prospector, the only one to escape the Hive, The Keepers more than proved themselves untrustworthy. It was the discs they were after. Those were our tickets to freedom, and knowing Oleg, he probably handed th
em all over to Skuld the minute they arrived back in Sotercity. No one from my crew would make such a rookie mistake. First rule of negotiation, never hand over the only bargaining chip you have. For all his book smarts, sometimes Oleg can be a damned idiot.

  “So let me get this straight,” I say. “We’re going to breaking into a Keeper stronghold so we can free my friends?”

  He nods. “And the best part? We’re not going to kill anyone doing it.”

  I laugh. “Where’s the fun in that? I'm assuming you have a plan?”

  A slow grin forms on Krantz’ face and I can see a light shining behind his eyes; now I know he's crazy.

  -3-

  We slosh through a stream of putrid waste. A hundred yards in and the smell isn't getting any better. The walls are low and cramped. Krantz is nearly a full head shorter than me and seems perfectly at home. I, on the other hand, need to stoop and the pain in my back and legs feels like burning wax is being poured over my flesh. Krantz tells us we aren't far now, but all I see is more sewer. I'm starting to wonder if this guy knows where he's going or if he’s completely off his gourd. Maybe getting nabbed by The Keepers would have been a better option.

  Krantz stops before what I assume is a door to an access tunnel. Three turns of a wheel and we're inside, but this is no access tunnel. This is a room, dry and not nearly as rank as the tunnels we've just come from. Krantz lights a lamp and our surroundings come to life. Bunk beds, dozens of them, as far as the eye can see.

  Sneak begins signing. “What is this place?”

  I ask Krantz.

  “This is where Keepers come, when they’ve had enough of the corruption and the lies.”

  “Ex-Keepers,” I correct.

  “Not all, but most. Although once a Keeper, always a Keeper.”

  Sounds like drivel to me. “You’re rebels,” I say, with a hint of surprise. “I’d always thought The Keepers were one big happy family, but then aren’t all families messed up, one way or another?”

  “We stand for truth, learning, growth. Those are the true Keeper ways. Slowly, the brotherhood has fallen out of sync with those principles and has replaced them with deception, power and greed.”

  “Absolute power corrupts absolutely,” I say and Krantz nods in agreement. His eyes are glistening.

  “One day we will take back The Order and return it to its rightful heritage, but don’t be fooled. I am more than prepared for a time when we too must be reminded. As you said, absolute power has a way of making us forget what we fought for in the first place.”

  Sneak stalks along the rows of empty beds. She's scouting, looking for a back door. A lesson hammered home in the Cartier shop and countless times before. Don’t ever let your enemy box you in.

  “So why us? What are you getting out of it?”

  Krantz’ eyes become cold and glassy. “Only one thing: Prior Skuld.”

  “Are you insane?” I cry. “You can't just execute a Prior. You'll have every Keeper within a thousand miles after you.”

  “He's a poison that has eaten away at the order since he first took office.”

  “Sounds like a suicide mission, to me. You’re soft in the head, you know that?”

  Krantz laughs. “When the people discover the extent of his evil, they’ll rise up against him.”

  “And what does that have to do with me and my crew?”

  “Everything. Once I help you free your men, you will help me to kill Skuld.”

  “Yeah, that sounds fair,” I say, not trying to hide the sarcasm in my voice. “And when The Keepers come looking for us, where will we hide? In the sewers of Sotercity?”

  “You won't need to hide. When Skuld falls and the list of his crimes is revealed, you'll be a hero.”

  There’s something he isn’t telling me and I can feel it, the same way I feel when those mindless Zees are close. Krantz catches the skepticism on my face and looks away.

  “You got a real hard-on for Skuld, don’t you? What’s say we cut the ideological bullshit you’ve been spewing and you tell me the truth.”

  A flash of anger crosses Krantz’ face and, for second, I wonder if he’s gonna come at me. His gaze falls to his hands and suddenly he looks like he’s a million miles away. “I was only a boy when the Patriarch appointed my father, Julius, as Prior of Sotercity.” As the words tumble out of his mouth, I notice the muscles in his forearms bunch into knots. “Skuld was his brother, my uncle, runner up for the position. They had been at each other’s throats since childhood and this final blow had only served to fuel Skuld’s already festering resentment. Perhaps hoping to ease his older brother’s jealousy, my father allowed Skuld to act as sub-prior. which placed him at the head of security for all of Sotercity and her outlying regions. But my father misjudged Skuld’s hunger for power and less than a week later, my mother and father went missing. Rather than allow this territory to fall into chaos, the Patriarch made Skuld prior and he’s been ruling with an iron fist ever since. But I’m not the only one with demons,” Krantz says. He’s studying the patch of rough skin on my face and I’m suddenly not crazy about where he’s going with this.

  “I learned a long time ago, real trust comes from bearing one’s soul. You’ve seen mine…”

  I show you mine and you show me yours. Yeah, I played that game as a child and it always ended with someone getting hurt.

  Krantz stands there waiting patiently.

  My heart is hammering in my chest. He wants to know about my face and what happened. I tell him, but I can see he isn’t sure what to make of it.

  “You haven’t turned.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Something inside you is slowing the change?”

  I think of Pennies, Glave and Jinx and feel a sudden chill run up my spine. “That’s the way it looks. But apart from this,” I say, waving my hand in front of my face, “we’re not so different, you and I. We were both orphans. Except my parents were Grinders, who worked in waste management. Every night they came home smelling like two sacks filled with shit. Guess now you know why I’m not a big fan of this subterranean paradise of yours. One day, there was an accident in the tunnel they were working in. Someone pulled a lever they shouldn’t have and drowned a dozen workers, my parents included. After that, I was sent to The Keeper academy, to be raised as one of their own. There they tried to teach me the old tongue and how to behave and dress like a proper lady, but all that ended when I saw a group of Wardens training in the academy courtyard. I knew then what I was meant to do.”

  “You became a Warden?”

  I laugh. “Never, but I signed up. Girls shouldn’t waste time fighting. That’s what most people here think. To you, we’re nothing more than walking baby factories.”

  Krantz holds up his hands, palms out.

  I take a deep breath. “One night, after basic, I was cleaning up when my commanding officer decided I’d make a better concubine than a Warden. Didn’t matter that I told him to stop. You see, no one tells men not to rape, they tell woman not to get raped. Big difference.”

  Krantz’ eyes dip and when they find me again, I can see he isn’t like the others. “Tell me who did this to you.”

  “It was a long time ag–”

  “Tell me.”

  “I could, but it won’t do you much good.”

  Krantz looks puzzled.

  “It won’t help you because they found the sonafabitch the next morning wearing his balls for earrings. I learned then that men who underestimate women do so just once. It was soon after that I left the Wardens and joined a group of Mercs.”

  Krantz is nodding with approval. “Then I have something to show you I think you’re going to like.”

  A tapestry with a strange symbol hangs on the wall behind him. Krantz yanks on the edge of it and the curtain disappears into a hollow cavity in the ceiling. Beneath it, the wall is jammed with weapons, enough hardware to outfit a small army.

  “Take your pick,” he says. “Just remember, speed and agility over firepowe
r. The trick will be to get in and get out without anyone knowing, or getting hurt. Remember, there’s only one man we want dead.”

  “Fat chance,” I say. “There's an old saying I learned as a child. Better to have and not need than to need and not have.”

  Krantz’ laughter echoes throughout the room, his entire body gyrating and I can't help but join him.

  “Azina, I'm starting to like you.”

  Krantz opens a nearby trunk and comes back with a black and red Warden's cloak. He wraps it around me and smiles.

  “What's this?” I ask.

  “Our ticket into the citadel.”

  -4-

  The sewers beneath Sotercity spread out like a spider's web, connecting every major building. Krantz keeps our Warden cloaks in a bag, nestled amongst cloves and pine needles, so we don't pop out smelling like a bunch of Grinders. I couldn't help but snicker watching him cut more than a foot of cloth from the robe Sneak was wearing. She looks like the world's smallest Warden.

  It isn't long before we come to a ladder that leads to a grate. We creep up and find ourselves in an indoor pig farm and the sewers smell like a bouquet of roses by comparison. Sneak is last up and lowers the grate while trying not to breathe. A pig, nearly the size of a man, scurries away grunting madly. Krantz tells us we're inside the pens. This is the bottommost level of Sotercity, where a group of specialized Grinders maintain food and livestock for The Keepers. Faint light trickles in from an adjacent room, but otherwise this place feels like we've entered a dark patch of hell. Ahead of us, an old Grinder in rags is hosing out a pig stall. He sees us approach and salutes. Krantz returns the gesture and tells him to carry on. For a minute I watch the Grinder's eyes as they study the dark patch of skin on my face. Then out of nowhere I feel long fingers skitter up my back. There's no one there. The feeling's gentle. Almost like a hand that’s just come up short and I hope to hell it doesn’t mean what I think it means. That Grinder's looking at me real weird now and I'm sure I'm gonna need to feed him to the pigs, but he doesn't say a word and I let him live.