by Chris Fox
An answering hail of fire came from the several suits remaining, now inside the bunker and using the firing slits. One appeared in the doorway long enough to launch its missiles. Bridget dragged the still-screaming soldier in front of her, using his body to block the explosion. His scream cut off abruptly, replaced by one of Bridget’s as she was launched backward and into the wall. She tumbled to the ground and didn’t rise.
Liz tried to hobble back into the fight, but the moment she released the obelisk, her balance failed. She sprawled onto the ground in a heap. She struggled feebly but was forced to admit that further action was beyond her. She was done with this fight, regardless of her wishes.
Two soldiers moved in her direction, red dots seeking a target as they scanned the ground near her. She was about to die, and Bridget didn’t look like she was faring much better. They’d done everything they could against tremendous odds. She should have been proud of that, but all she wanted to do was sleep.
Stone and metal burst apart in a shower of debris as the bunker simply ceased to exist. Several armored figures were part of that debris, slamming into obelisks or the wall with bone-shattering force. Something massive and beautiful came striding out of the cloud of dust, a silver female perhaps a foot taller than Bridget.
Four armored soldiers were still moving, all wounded but obviously still in the fight. The silver could only be the Mother, and she ricocheted between them faster than the eye could follow, cutting down first one and then another. It was the same ability Blair used, the one he’d claimed only men could do. How was that possible?
The third managed to pepper her with missiles, which detonated in a now familiar explosion of shrapnel and debris. The Mother roared with fury, seemingly unaffected by the blast. She blurred through the cloud of smoke, grabbing the soldier by the neck and dashing his faceplate against the wall so many times that nothing recognizable was left.
One soldier remained. His missile tubes were empty, and he’d apparently realized his rifle was useless, because he tossed it away in a clatter. “Come on, you bitch. You might kill me, but I’m going down swinging.”
“You,” the Mother thundered, taking a step toward the audacious soldier. “You are the leader of these fools, the one responsible for damaging the Ark. For hunting the pathetic whelp who waits within my chamber. You have accelerated the doom of our world, helping to usher in an age of darkness.”
She blurred forward, seizing the soldier’s wrists in one of her massive hands. She hoisted him into the air, until his face was even with her own. She delivered a wicked head butt, shattering his visor and revealing a hard face framed by blond hair. Commander Jordan. “Your price goes beyond death. First, you will know the damage you have wrought. Allow me to show you.”
The Mother peered deep into his eyes for long moments. Then Jordan began to scream. It went on and on until it finally trailed off into a whimper. “I-I didn’t know. Dear God, what have we done?”
“You have been judged, Commander Aaron Jordan. I find you lacking,” she growled. Her jaws opened, enveloping the man’s throat. She bit down in a spray of blood and metal, savaging his flesh with the brutality of a predator. Then she discarded his body as though it were a fast food wrapper, forgotten just as easily.
She turned toward Liz, striding across the floor until she towered over her. “Be at ease, little sister. I will destroy this offal, and then I will return. If you possess the strength, tend to your sisters. Know that there will be a redress for the wrongs done to you.”
Then the Mother blurred, disappearing up the tunnel to the surface.
Chapter 81- Mother’s Wrath
The Mother called upon the watchful eye of Zopolote to extend her senses. Scores of hearts beat frantically outside the mouth of the Ark’s exit, a sea of ignorant rabble come to silence a voice they could neither understand nor contain. Her voice.
Not since the days when she’d helped deliver such terrible power to the deathless had she felt this kind of fury. Millennia of planning were washed away by the foolish decisions of a handful. Why had Ahiga not woken her the moment the Ark had activated? Why creep out to see this new world, endangering everything?
He’d been such a curious boy, and that had not changed when he came to manhood. His actions here should bring no surprise. Yet she felt the sting of it keenly. This young one, Blair, had some excuse for his behavior. He’d grown up in a decadent world without the horrors her people had faced. But for Ahiga, there could be no forgiveness. His dalliance had cost them everything.
The Mother blurred from the mouth of the tunnel, leaping skyward. She soared into the air, weightless for an endless moment. Then she plummeted into the ranks of her enemies, like a star. They brought their curious weapons to bear, these guns. Such weapons allowed the unblooded to think of themselves as warriors, but the weapons conveyed neither discipline nor skill.
She danced among them, tearing out throats and ripping off limbs. At first the multitude rushed toward her. They fired their weapons, wounding only their allies as she flowed around each attack. More and more fell, cut down as she glided through their ranks.
The Mother lost count of the number she’d slaughtered, instead focusing on the thrill of the hunt and the taste of hot blood and warm flesh. On and on she killed, leaving a sea of bodies in her wake.
Then they broke, scrambling in all directions for the imagined safety of the hills. She shattered their illusions, teaching the fools the folly of their actions. She blurred from target to target, slaughtering with all the fury she could muster. All her anger, her frustration. All her disappointment, her despair. She channeled them into death, burning them away as she killed.
After a time, her pace slowed. There were very few foes now, scattering into the night like rabbits before the wolf. Yet she could see far more keenly under the moon than they realized. They could not hide. They were too slow to run. The few remaining would-be warriors stank of fear and panic. They were broken, yet she gave them no mercy. They had to die, every last one. Not just for their sins, but because more champions would be needed. More were always needed when the deathless came.
She leapt atop the southern slope of the Ark, scanning the horizon. Four figures had reached a narrow trail leading to a ridge above. She would deal with them first. Two more hobbled away from the lip of a ridge that had been covered in ice during the Mother’s time.
One was dressed in the same uniforms as the rest of the soldiers. The other, she recognized from Blair’s memories. Trevor, their ally and a respectable warrior for this age. He would need to be culled eventually, but not this night. He would be accorded much honor when his time came, not be part of such a tasteless slaughter.
She blurred to the bottom of the trail the four frightened rabbits fled down, peering up at the nearest soldier. The man had dropped his rifle and smelled sharply of urine. She blurred again, disemboweling the wretch. Before his body could fall, she did the same to the second and then the third. The fourth had turned before she took his throat.
The Mother scanned the area around the Ark. Incredibly that had been the last foe. She’d slaughtered them all, every last unblooded mongrel. Relief flooded her. The Ark was again hers, despite the tremendous cost. Now it was time to return and see what could be salvaged, both of the Ark and of her new Ka-Dun.
Chapter 82- Answers
Blair emerged from the tunnel in time to hear Jordan’s final scream, slack jawed as the Mother ripped out the Commander’s throat. She savaged the armor like it was cloth, wrenching away a mouthful of flesh and metal. Jordan’s sudden death crashed into Blair, knocking him to his knees. He could only stare.
For what felt like months, Jordan had been a bogeyman dogging his every step. The Terminator sent to track him down. Bare minutes ago that very man was converging on their position with an unstoppable army. Blair had been certain the werewolves were going to die, though no one had given voice to that belief. Yet now the man that had driven them to despair had, himself, been k
illed. Effortlessly.
The Mother paused near Liz, speaking in a tone decidedly friendlier than the one he’d received. Then she blurred back to the surface. He almost felt bad for the Mohn soldiers. How long would they last? Three minutes? Five, maybe? He only hoped that she’d leave Trevor alone. Not that he could stop her if she decided to take his life. He doubted all of them together and in top form could do that.
“Liz, are you all right?” Cyntia’s thick Brazilian accent came from just a few feet away. She materialized in human form, unabashedly naked. The woman crouched next to Liz, cradling her head with a surprising tenderness.
“Well, my intestines were blown all over the walls,” Liz wheezed, not attempting to rise. “I think I’ll live, though.”
“Not sure I can say the same,” Blair said. He put his back to the obelisk near Liz and Cyntia, sliding down into a sitting position. He was too tired to appreciate that both women were naked. “Pretty sure I may have pissed her off, and I don’t think that’s going to do anything good to my life expectancy.”
“If she comes after you, she’ll have to go through me first,” came an unexpected voice. He looked up to find Bridget before him, also naked. She was covered in blood and soot, her hair matted to the side of her face.
“You know,” he said, feeling a little light headed, “this is starting to look like the intro to a bad porn film.”
Bridget sat heavily a few feet away, rolling her eyes as she did. “I’m too tired to slap you.”
“I’ll do it as soon as I can get up,” Liz called weakly.
A chorus of screams began in the distance. The Mother had begun her grisly work.
“I almost feel bad for them,” Blair said, staring at the tunnel that led to the surface.
“I don’t,” Cyntia said, tone sour. “They deserve what they get for killing Adolpho and Elmira.”
“Oh, God. I’m so sorry,” Liz said, lifting her head from Cyntia’s lap. Cyntia forced it gently back down.
“We are at war. Death happens, and I must become accustomed to it,” Cyntia replied, lapsing into a sullen silence.
“Bridget, what happened to Steve and Sheila?” Blair asked because he wanted to change the subject and because he was genuinely curious.
“Steve…didn’t make it,” Bridget said, avoiding his gaze. She looked back after a moment. “Sheila is fine. It was her that got me out of where Mohn was holding me. She’s with your friend. Trevor, he said his name was.”
The screams above were less frequent and more distant. Tension thickened. No one mentioned the reason why. The Mother would be returning soon.
“She’s alive. That’s wonderful news,” Blair said. It was a bright spot among all the horrors they’d faced. He caught Liz’s eye. She was watching him curiously. “Sheila was part of my research team. She’s also one of my closest friends.”
Everyone turned toward the tunnel as if some silent signal had been given. No one dared speak. The terror of a single question silenced them. What would the Mother do when she returned?
Then she was there. The Mother stepped from the shadows near the central obelisk, just a few feet from their little circle. She’d returned to her human form, so innocuous at first glance. That illusion faded the moment anyone met her ancient gaze. Not only had she not torn her clothing during her transformation, but also the strange garments were completely clean. Not so much as a single spec of dirt or blood disgraced her image.
“The dawning of the next age is upon us,” the Mother said, looking to Liz. She didn’t even glance at Blair. “Our sun changes, beginning the next phase of the cycle. It will remain this way for years beyond counting, fueling the strength of the deathless. Even now they rise among every people across this world. You must be prepared to face them.”
“I’m in no shape to walk, much less fight,” Liz said, though not forcefully enough to suggest a challenge. Blair doubted anyone else was stupid enough to speak to the Mother the way he had.
“Impertinent for one so young. I like your spirit,” the Mother said, with a wolfish grin. She settled into a cross-legged position not far from Liz and Cyntia. “Your pack needs time to recuperate. Let us use that time wisely. You must have a great many questions. Ask, and I will answer as I can.”
“I think Blair should be the one to ask the questions,” Liz said, nodding in his direction. Her gaze held a respect that made him sit up straighter. “He’s the one who discovered this place and learned your language, the one who risked everything to make it back here. I think you owe him answers, not me.”
“You’d defer to this male?” the Mother asked, eyebrows rising. Then she gave a slight smile, one she shared with all of them. “This truly is a different time. Your ways are strange, but in this I will honor them. Ask your questions, Ka-Dun. Hear them answered.”
“Your memories. That was you discovering an Ark, wasn’t it? One somewhere in Europe,” he asked, keeping his tone as humble as possible. He was talking to a survivor from a past age, one who could answer so many questions about the origin of man. Assuming she didn’t kill him out of hand.
“I did. My people were being exterminated by a rival tribe. We fled and had no choice but to seek shelter in the Valley of Hidden Voices, a place our shamans had long said was cursed. There we found the Ark, as you saw. We were ushered inside, where I learned the secrets of the place,” the Mother explained. She heaved a heavy sigh. “I lack the time to tell you the full story, but it was there that I made my greatest mistake. I helped craft the evil that would become the deathless.”
“Why?” Blair asked, aghast.
“To save the man I love, the man from my memories. Osiris,” she explained.
Bridget gave a low squawk of recognition, eyes like saucers as she met Blair’s gaze. He nodded at her and then turned back to the Mother. “What are the Arks?”
“I do not believe anyone can fully answer that question. We do not know how old they are, or who built them originally. But each contains a vast store of knowledge and incredible power,” the Mother said. She began toying with a lock of her hair. The gesture was childlike, completely out of place on what was, for all intents and purposes, a goddess.
Then she rose abruptly, glancing at the tunnel. “Do you feel that? It begins.”
Blair did feel it, a tingling that washed over his entire body. It could only be one thing. “It’s the second wave. Our world is ending.”
Epilogue
“Well, I guess they succeeded,” Trevor said, still processing the slaughter in the valley below. A silver werewolf who moved faster than Blair and hugged the shadows even more tightly than Liz flowed between soldiers. Wherever she passed, people died. Some tried to fight, but it didn’t save them.
“She’s terrifying,” Sheila said, leaning heavily on the rock she was using as a seat. Even under the thin moonlight, she looked paler by the minute. “That is the most terrifying thing I have ever seen. Those men don’t have a chance. Trevor, what if she comes after us?”
He considered the question for several moments. “Then we die. There’s no way we can outrun her, and we certainly can’t fight.”
“Out of sight, out of mind. I’m ready to head down to that car you were talking about,” Sheila suggested, a pleading note creeping into her tone.
“You aren’t getting an argument from me,” Trevor agreed. No sense in drawing this Mother’s attention. He picked up his Barrett, offering his free hand to Sheila. He doubted she’d be able to make the walk by herself, especially in the dark. “Here, take my arm. I’ll guide you. It’s not very far, just a few hundred yards. We’ll be there in no time.”
Sheila nodded gratefully but saved her breath for walking. Picking their way down the mountainside in the dark was agonizingly slow, but it was still better than the alternative. Long minutes later they finally reached the little dirt track Liz had jokingly called a road. The battered pair of pickup trucks waited in the moonlight. Despite how tiny the vehicles were, compared with their testosteron
e-fueled American equivalents, they were almost as wide as the path.
“There you go,” Trevor said, helping Sheila into the passenger seat of the closest truck. She gave a relieved sigh as she settled into the torn seat. Maybe it was the light coming from the cab of the truck, but she looked whiter than any sheet.
“Thank you, Trevor. I couldn’t have done that on my own on a good day, and this is not my best day ever,” she said, panting rapidly. He felt the altitude himself, but he was in pretty good shape.
“Wait, do you see that?” Her attention had turned to the southern horizon. Her eyes widened.
Trevor spun to see what she was looking at. “My God. It’s started.”
Yellow and scarlet ribbons of fire veined across the sky, spiderwebbing their way closer with incredible speed. It was like the Aurora Borealis on an indescribably massive scale but much, much more dangerous. They were nowhere near the poles, so they would miss the brunt of the radiation, but electronics the world over were about to be destroyed.
Sheila began to thrash and shake. It looked like some sort of epileptic seizure. Crap. She might bite off her own tongue and bleed out if he didn’t get something between her teeth. He glanced around until he spotted a dead branch from a scrubby bush. That should work. He picked it up, breaking off both sides until he held an eight-inch length.
He leaned on Sheila’s lap, pinning her as best he could while he tried to force the stick into her mouth. She thrashed wildly, making the task incredibly difficult. “Come on, Sheila, don’t fight me. This is for your own good.”
Sheila began coughing. White goop oozed from her mouth. What the hell was that? A gob landed on his arm, and he gagged in disgust.
Then Sheila struck like a snake, seizing his hand in her mouth. She bit down hard, ripping off a hunk of flesh between his thumb and forefinger. He jerked away from her, pulling a length of gauze from his cargo pants. The sky bathed them in a hellish undulating glow, brighter than full noon, though the color was off. Everything was too white.
