The Undertakers: End of the World

by Ty Drago

  She smiled. It was a smile of more than confidence. It was a smile of profound certainty. “Trust me.”

  He nodded miserably.

  Sharyn wrapped her arms around her brother, holding him tight for a few seconds. Then she stepped back and turned to Future Queen. “It’s me,” she said.

  “Such tearful drama,” the creature tutted. “Take comfort in the knowledge that it doesn’t matter who stands for your group. The end will be the same.”

  “You talk too much,” Sharyn said dismissively. She turned and hugged Helene. Then she did the same to me. It was a typical Sharyn hug. She yanked me into her arms, squeezed almost hard enough to make my eyes bulge, and then released almost before I’d realized what had happened.

  “Choose your weapon,” Future Queen said.

  “Vader,” Helene suggested.

  But Sharyn said, “Nope.” Then she unbuckled the sword and its scabbard and handed both to the younger girl. “Keep this safe for me.”

  “What?” I exclaimed. “You’re going out there unarmed?”

  Sharyn grinned at me and tapped her temple with her finger. “I ain’t never unarmed, little bro.”

  What the hell was that supposed to mean? With Vader she barely had a hope. Without it she was as good as dead!

  “Tom! You can’t let her—”

  “It’s cool,” he replied, cutting me off. Now it was his turn to wear a strange, thoughtful expression. I suddenly got the distinct feeling that something was going down and I’d somehow been kept out of the loop.

  Sharyn looked at her brother and grinned wider.

  Then she winked and followed Future Queen out into the arena.

  As the two of them headed off, I grabbed Tom’s arm and demanded, “What’re you two doing?”

  “I ain’t doin’ anything, bro,” Tom replied. “This one’s all her.”

  “But you know, don’t you? You know what she’s got in mind!”

  “I think so.”

  Helene and I glared—yeah, glared—at him. Then we asked in crazy unison, “Well?”

  “She lifted my pocketknife,” he said, an odd little smile playing on his lips.

  “What?”

  “When she hugged me just now, she swiped it.”

  I took my hand off his arm and felt my pockets.

  “Mine’s gone, too!” I exclaimed.

  Helene looked from one to the other of us, then out at Sharyn, who was still walking toward the middle of the arena. “You mean she traded her sword for a couple of little pocketknives?”

  “Seems so,” Tom said.

  “That’s crazy!”

  He didn’t reply. Instead, he turned away from us and looked after his sister.

  Feeling confused and helpless and horror-stricken, Helene and I did the same.

  In front of us, around us, our Malum guards stood watchful. No way were we getting past them. No way were we going to be able to help the lone girl who stood against those three ten-legged dump trucks.

  No way.

  Chapter 39

  Bavarak

  Sharyn reached the center of the arena and stopped when Future Queen stopped. She hadn’t looked back at us, not even once, during her march out there. But she did so now, and despite the distance—maybe twenty yards—I could read the soft smile playing on her lips.

  Future Queen started gesturing with two of her limbs, pointing at Sharyn and apparently saying something to the surrounding crowd—once again using a form of communication that, for whatever reason, we couldn’t hear. After about a half-minute of this, the crowd responded with another of their high-pitched, ear-splitting yells.

  I was really starting to hate that sound.

  But Sharyn Jefferson actually grinned at them, looking less like a lamb led to the slaughter and more like a rock star taking her stage. As their shrill cries cut the air, she raised one hand high and waved at them, which only made their jeers louder.

  “Tom,” Helene said. “Please tell me she knows what she’s doing.”

  “Oh, she knows” he replied. His body had gone nearly as still as a Malum’s and his hands were balled into nervous fists.

  Maybe Sharyn does have a plan, but that’s not keeping her brother from being terrified for her.

  As the alien cheers gradually died away, Future Queen said something to Sharyn. The girl actually burst out laughing, which seemed to take the monster by surprise. Nonplussed, Most Despised Daughter skittered away, leaving Sharyn alone in the center of the arena.

  Across from her, perhaps fifty yards from where she stood, the kotha shuddered and twitched in agitation, the Malum version of bulls huffing and pawing at the ground.

  Future Queen found a place in the stands, not surprisingly a place of honor with an excellent view. The Malum nearby, I saw, made room for her. But, even from this distance, I could tell from their body language that they didn’t appreciate doing it. As Little Bob had suggested, this offspring of Lilith Cavanaugh wasn’t well liked.

  She’s got almost as much riding on this bavarak as we do.

  A silence, heavy and expectant, fell over the arena, a stillness beyond anything you’d ever find at any football game, even right before kickoff.

  Then Future Queen called something out, something that we clearly heard. It wasn’t a word, at least not an English word. Instead, it sounded like a bark, hard and sharp and quick. It reminded me of the crack of a starter’s pistol.

  And instantly, the kotha charged.

  All three of them surged forward at once, their trunk-sized legs moving in blurs and their pincered feet, each as large as a watermelon, clattering noisily across the hard Ether.

  Sharyn faced them, reached into her pockets, and came up with two small objects—one in each hand.

  Our pocketknives.

  I watched, trying to make sense of what she was doing.

  Her thumbs found the row of buttons that ran along each knife’s facing side, eight on mine, six on Tom’s. She found the same button on both gadgets and pressed it, instantly activating the same feature.

  The Tasers. Despite the distance, I could see the blue crackle of the electrical charge running between matching sets of prongs.

  Two little Tasers against these giants? I wasn’t even sure a normal-sized Malum would be affected by an electric shock.

  But then I noticed Tom.

  He was smiling.

  “Good for you, sis,” I heard him mutter.

  As the kotha bore down on her, Sharyn Jefferson slammed both pocketknives, their tips still sizzling with electricity, into on another—

  —where they somehow locked together, and merged.

  Comprehension hit me like a punch to the stomach.

  The Taser button on both pocketknives was the one marked 2.

  Two plus two equals Fore.

  Except that hadn’t been what Professor Moscova had said with his last breath, not exactly.

  He’d said—

  “Two and two,” I breathed.

  Beside me, Helene gasped.

  And Tom? Well, he just kept smiling.

  With pride.

  The pocketknives morphed in seconds, the strange Ethereal stuff of which they were made obeying whatever brilliant commands Future Steve had somehow coded into them. Their opposite ends seemed to stretch outward. One foot. Two. Three. The buttons disappeared, the gadgets—which had been so useful to me during the Corpse War—melting away.

  And, in their place: a seven-foot double-pointed javelin, blue/black in color, with sparks of electricity snapping at both its ends.

  Fore.

  Professor Moscova had been right. I hadn’t needed to bring back the javelin. I, or rather we—Tom and me—had possessed it all along.

  “When’d she figure it out?” I asked no one in particular.

  Tom answered, “Back in our prison cell, I think.”

  “Why didn’t she tell anyone?” Helene asked.

 
; The chief laughed. “‘Cause she’s Sharyn!”

  As if she’d heard him, Sharyn looked our way, grinning from ear to ear. Then she flipped the javelin to one hand, spun it in the air like a baton, and ran forward with it at the ready—heading straight toward the three monsters.

  For a single, horrific moment, I thought she was playing some kind of lunatic game of “Chicken,” expecting these creatures, five times her size and bred for combat in this arena and absolutely nothing else, to “blink first.” And that was just plain crazy.

  But then, as she came within twenty feet of the nearest of them, both sides running full tilt, Sharyn lowered the front-facing point of her javelin and jammed it into the black slab beneath her feet—

  —and rode it, pole vault-style, up into the air.

  Except, unlike the guys at the Olympics, she didn’t let go of the javelin. Instead, she kept her hand on it so that, when she went airborne, it went along with her.

  At the sight of the girl hurtling its way, the nearest of three monsters opened its enormous mouth. The maw was huge, easily big enough to swallow her whole. But, as she neared it, Sharyn brought Fore up and, underhanded, drove it into the base of the kotha’s head. The point cut deep, shivering with blue electricity, searing through the hard leathery flesh like fire through ice. It pierced the open mouth, crossed to the other side and came out the back of the creature’s head in an explosion of blood the same black color as the surrounding Ether.

  As it did, Sharyn placed one foot on the shaft that ran through the inside of its open maw, keeping the knife-like teeth from coming together. Then she shifted her weight and jumped again, grabbing the front end of her javelin with a smooth, practiced motion and, pulling it free, landed atop the Ether and rolled clear.

  The kotha shuddered violently. All ten of its legs wobbled and then shot out in every direction, as if no longer able to support its weight.

  The creature collapsed, dead.

  The arena went silent as the grave.

  The two remaining kotha roared, a noise so loud that it seemed to shake the entire building. I saw some of the countless tiny Builders that made up the walls shudder and vibrate.

  Then the monsters pounced, one of them leaping smoothly over its fallen bro, while the nearer of the two swiped at Sharyn with its lethal front legs.

  Sharyn ducked and parried, moving with an almost liquid grace. Fore slashed the air. When it struck one of the monster’s thick appendages there was a flash of electricity, and that limb went suddenly limp. With a howl, two more of the kotha’s pincers shot forward, either of them easily capable of cutting the girl in two.

  But again Sharyn moved, this time slipping inside the reach of the claws, which snapped shut on the place she’d just vacated. Then the javelin came up and stabbed deep into the creature’s torso. Rearing back, the kotha flailed in obvious agony, managing to catch Sharyn with one spasming limb. The glancing blow was enough to send her flying.

  “Oh no!” Helene screamed.

  Sharyn tumbled skyward, but managed to control her flight and land on her shoulders, staying conscious. Still sliding across the smooth Ether, she reached out a hand and called “Fore!”

  The javelin exploded out of the monster’s chest and whipped through the air—a blue electric blur—before slapping obediently into the girl’s waiting grasp.

  “Whoa!” I exclaimed.

  As Sharyn jumped to her feet, the injured monster turned toward her, black blood gushing from its wound. It took a step. Then another. And then it dropped to the ground.

  Two down.

  The last of the kotha, ignoring its fallen buds, charged at the girl full tilt, its mouth wide open and four of its legs held stiffly out in front of it, like lances.

  Sharyn ran up to meet it, only to drop at the last instant and slide underneath the huge creature, barely avoiding its deadly pincers. As she did, she angled the javelin upward, its electric point slicing open the kotha’s underbelly. When she came up behind it, she was covered head-to-toe in hot black blood, which only served to make her look that much more incredible.

  The last one died.

  Sharyn raised Fore high in the air, holding it with both hands, while the arena went nuts.

  The sounds ranged from siren wails to deep-throated roars. I couldn’t tell if the Malum were outraged or impressed by what they’d just seen, but it had clearly had a powerful impact on them.

  In the midst of the crowd, I could see Future Queen, her body motionless, her red eye glaring. She called out, “Send in the rest!” This time, her words translated just fine.

  The arena fell silent again. At first, no one moved to obey.

  Is it possible for a ten-legged alien monster to look red-faced with hysteria? Well, no. Probably not. But whatever the Malum equivalent is for that, Future Queen was doing. “Send in the rest! Now! Do it now! I want that filthy human whelp dead!”

  Another long pause followed, until I thought the monster calling the shots would explode with frustration. Finally, a section of the arena’s far wall receded, the creatures who composed it disconnecting from one another and skittering aside to create a gap.

  Through that gap, came two more kotha.

  “The B Team,” Tom remarked.

  Sharyn wiped the black blood from her face and turned toward them, her javelin at the ready.

  At the top of her voice, she called, “What kinda queen goes back on her word? What kinda queen lies to her people and denies fate?”

  A murmur rose through the surrounding multitudes.

  “Straight up,” Tom said.

  “Kill her!” screamed Most Despised Daughter.

  As the kotha surged forward, Sharyn turned and ran to her right, at an angle that was perpendicular to the path of the charging beasts. Seeing this, the kotha adjusted, one of them now running a pace or two ahead of the other.

  “Now,” Tom said under his breath.

  As if she’d heard him, Sharyn suddenly stopped, pivoted, and threw her javelin.

  It cut the air soundlessly, as sleek and quick as a bolt of lightning. It sliced into the first of the creatures, piercing it right between its two thundering front legs. With a dazzling flash of electricity, Fore seared completely through and came out the other side, where it instantly skewered the second monster, cutting all the way through that one as well.

  Two in one shot!

  The first kotha toppled forward, its legs giving way beneath it. As it crashed to the ground, the second one tripped over it, flipping end over end. Then it too hit the hard Ether and skidded, coming to rest only a dozen feet from where Sharyn now stood.

  Both creatures groaned—and died.

  Sharyn jumped up onto the flank of the nearest lifeless kotha, held out her hand, and summoned Fore back to her.

  Then she called out, her voice as loud and clear as a bell. “Next?”

  Chapter 40

  The Cost of Victory

  Once again, the multitudes erupted in sound, and this time I got the strong impression that it was more for Sharyn than against her. After all, she’d just treated them to something they hadn’t expected, not in their wildest dreams—assuming these things dreamed at all. And if the Malum were anything like sports fans everywhere, they loved a good upset.

  Especially when they’d never seen one before.

  She did it! They’re going to let us go!

  And, better still, we had the javelin.

  We could do what we came here to do.

  But then, as often happens the minute I see the sun start coming up, a storm hit.

  I noticed that the place where Future Queen had been sitting, or standing, or squatting, or whatever these things did when they relaxed, was empty.

  “Where’s the boss?” I asked.

  “Wondering that myself,” Tom said worriedly.

  Then Helene pointed. Something was crossing the arena floor, moving amidst the hulking forms of the dead kotha. It darted
with lightning quickness from one to the next, using their bodies as cover. Nearing Sharyn.

  Stalking Sharyn.

  “Sis!” Tom called, alarm in his voice. But the crowd was too noisy. No way was she going to hear him.

  So he started forward, only to be forced back by two of our Malum guards.

  The chief glared at them. But before he could say or do anything, Helene jumped in front of him and got right into the nearest monster’s face—two fierce hazel eyes against a single yellow one.

  “She won,” the girl said in a low voice. “Get outta our way.”

  Neither guard moved.

  “It’s fate,” Helene pressed. Then, reaching over her shoulder, she slid Vader from its sheath. “Do you know what happens to anybody who stands against fate?”

  These two were warrior caste. Did they even understand English? I wasn’t sure.

  But then I watched the creatures hesitate, their bodies shifting uncomfortably.

  Helene didn’t so much as blink.

  “They die,” she said. “That’s what happens to ‘em. Now, for the last time … the absolute last time … get outta our way.”

  The Malum stepped aside.

  I love her. Yep. I do. There, I said it.

  The three of us rushed out of our pen and through the ranks of guards. As we did, a few of the nearest Malum looked warily at us, their heads rolling along their bodies, following our path. But none of them made any attempt to stop us.

  Bavarak had spoken.

  “Give me Vader!” Tom said to Helene. “Now!”

  Wordlessly, she handed him the sword.

  Tom exploded ahead of us, running faster than I’d have thought anyone could, quickly outdistancing Helene and me. Vader flashed in his hands as he crossed the open ground between him and his sister, who’d noticed him by now, but was smiling, as if thinking he was on his way to congratulate her.

  Meanwhile, Future Queen had slithered up to the lifeless body of the kotha that Sharyn had speared at the end of the fight. This brought her close to where her quarry stood.

  Her red eye fixed on Sharyn’s unguarded back.