Chasing Down Glory: The Outrider Legion: Book Two
Page 47
Not when he could stop it.
Johan ignored the scream of his muscles as he climbed up the inner wall. Those armored monsters were unexpected, and if their arrival meant Gustav and Titus had even more grotesque things in store for them, it all might be hopeless. Things were spiraling out of control quickly, and he was afraid he wouldn't be able to get his men out of there in time. Below him was Nerthus, her limber body flying up the ladder faster than he could. When he got to the top of the wall he saw Kinnese just standing there, staring at the lighting. Alek was nowhere to be seen.
“What’s happening? What can you see?” Johan asked Kinnese.
“What happening is the gods damned lead monster arrived, and a gods damned army of those giants are following him,” the traitor barked. “What I see is that they are going to massacre every single one of us if we stay here.” Kinnese turned to him. “Look Else, you did a hero’s job here. You and your guys almost saved hundreds of people, when I would have...well, I wouldn’t have even tried. You...you’re good men. Gods know the world needs more like you. Which is why it’s time for us to go.”
“At least we gave some of them a fighting chance.” Johan sighed, despite himself.
An anguished look twisted Kinnese’s face for an instant, replaced by stern indifference. “Yeah, well we’ll all die anyways if we stay here, Else. If it were just these piking monsters, I’d be with you. Garrey’s guys are doing their jobs right, and together we could make one hell of a last stand. But there’s nothing any of us, any of us, can do against those!” Kinnese pointed out at the city, at the distant rumble of giants slowly marching towards the wall.
“Johan,” Nerthus said from behind him, “he’s right. It's time to go. We need to warn the Praetorians back in Tethis. This just got too big for us.”
“You should be proud of yourself for doing this much,” Kinnese said. “I can’t think of anyone who’d have stuck around like you and your men. That’s what being an Outrider is all about, isn’t it? Fighting to save people, right? Not charging headlong towards glory.”
“I don't want to just leave them all behind,” Johan said, his voice quiet as he watched Bellkeep fall.
Kinnese flinched at Johan’s words, but he said nothing.
“None of us here can fight them,” Nerthus said, putting a hand on Johan’s shoulder. “And we can't save this city. We need to get out of here. We need to get to people who can deal with this.”
Johan walked to the other side of the wall and looked down. He watched the line of people fleeing towards the Copper Gate, heedless of Garrey’s soldiers and the hells breaking out around them. Above the gate he saw his men, exhausted, catching what little respite they could before Gustav's monsters turned their attention back to them. How much more could he put them through. Was it just for his own personal pride? Something was missing though. No, not something, someone...
“Wait,” Nerthus said, sensing the same absence, “Kinnese, where’s Alek?”
Kinnese opened his mouth to reply when a thunderous voice ripped through the city.
“STOP RIGHT THERE!” the voice shouted, startling everyone.
Alek’s voice.
Alek stood at the opposite end of a street, with Gustav and Titus at the other end. A small part of Alek’s mind hoped that he had sounded intimidating, like his father would have. But he shoved that thought far down into his psyche as the armored figure halted its step, with Titus doing the same. As they froze, a chilling sense of deja vu spread through Alek's mind. It quickly passed, however. Gustav and the Akvan had nothing in common, aside from wearing heavy armor. But they were alike in other ways. And that was why Alek had to stop him.
“Both of you pikers have this coming,” he shouted, drawing himself up to his full height. “What’s wrong? Afraid to take on someone who can kick your ass?” Gods, Alek thought. He was terrible at sounding heroic.
Deliberately, Gustav turned his head slowly, then his body.
“I'm sorry, but have we met?” There was a chilling calmness to Gustav's voice, almost a bored quality that sent a shiver up Alek's spine. This man was some kind of monster alright. "Perhaps if you came a little closer, I might recognize you.”
Alek concentrated on his mind and body, feeling his strength increase as he did so. He wished that he and Vegard had had more time to figure out just what he was capable of doing. He also wished that he had had the patience to learn how to actually use a sword. But then again, Alek had been simply wishing for things his whole life. Now it was time to actually try and make things happen.
Titus simply shrugged and hung back as Gustav took one step forward, his blade held in a one-handed grip. Before he could take a second step, Alek charged forwards, closing the gap between them in blinding speed, swinging his sword in a mighty two-handed blow at Gustav's curved blade. Disarm him immediately, Alek’s memories told him, and the fight would be over before it began. The blades connected, and Gustav's held. Alek was stunned.
With any emotion on his face hidden behind his helmet, Gustav parried Alek’s blade downwards, sending Alek off-balance. Gustav followed by slicing his own blade upwards towards Alek’s chest, but the Outrider was able to backpedal in time to avoid it. Gustav followed with a thrust of his blade, again at Alek’s chest. Gustav’s sword moved almost faster than Alek’s eye could see. Reflex alone saved Alek’s life as he swatted the obsidian blade aside with his own. A shower of strikes from Gustav rained down upon Alek, who barely managed to deflect them. Snapping a quick kick, he caught Gustav square in the chest, sending the armored man sprawling backwards.
“This is...surprising,” Gustav said as he got to his feet. “I may find a use for that frame of yours.”
“Sorry,” Alek replied, taking a firmer grip on his longsword. “I've already got a job.”
The two men clashed again, but though Alek now knew Gustav's strength, he still wasn't able to hold his ground. Alek’s lack of skill with a blade was readily apparent, but he didn’t have the time to blame himself for it just then. Gustav was inexorable in his assault, constantly advancing on Alek, his superior swordplay never giving Alek time to counter or even catch his breath.
Gustav pressed him, forcing the fight out of the streets and into the outskirts of the Commerce District, with Titus walking after them at an almost leisurely pace. Ducking beneath a wild stroke, Gustav was about to strike when Alek brought a knee crashing up into Gustav's face. Even with the helmet protecting his face, Gustav staggered back, his free hand clutching his face. Alek was about to charge forward and end the fight when Titus held out a hand, and a cloud of orange mist coalesced around it. An instant later, a bright spike of orange light lanced out at Alek. Alek dove to one side, the heat of the narrowly missed beam scorching the air around him. The light splashed against a storefront and ignited it in flame almost instantly. Alek rolled once and rose to his feet in time to bring his sword up to block a downward chop. Gustav leaned into the blade, attempting to force Alek to his knees as he held his guard. Alek looked up into the eye slits of the man's helmet, finally seeing the wide-eyed insanity smoldering behind them.
“Just what are you?” Gustav asked, something akin to lust in his voice. “No, that doesn't matter. I must have you. The things I could do with your frame...”
Alek didn't give him time to finish. Surging upwards, he knocked Gustav backwards and launched an attack of his own, crude though it was compared to the skill he knew Garm or Johan had. He pushed himself on the inside. He needed more of his strength, more of his speed to counter his lack of ability. But he felt himself straining against his own limitations. The tether holding him back refused to budge. Alek swung his blade, but Gustav leaped lightly backwards.
There was a manic quality to Gustav's movements, Alek noted. He would move far too quickly, then halt himself, as if unsure of how to proceed. He backpedaled as Alek charged him, their blades crashing together like falling trees. Alek unleashed a flurry of his own strikes, but he had no true technique, merely untra
ined swings and thrusts. What little skill he possessed that had been enough against bandits was sorely lacking against a monster like Gustav.
With a sudden almost contemptuous wave of his hand, Gustav knocked away one of Alek's strikes and kicked him hard in the chest, sending Alek flying backwards. Before Alek even hit the ground Titus, from the tip of his staff, shot a transparent ball of concussive force at Alek, hitting him again in the chest and hurling him down the street and into the marketplace. Alek rolled and tumbled through the closed and collapsed stalls, leaving a tornado of shattered wood and ripped awnings in his wake as he smashed through the market.
“Titus!” Gustav roared, turning towards the wizard. “Back off, he's mine.”
The older man looked rather amused with himself. “I was growing bored. Tch, he's getting back up.” Titus raised his staff again as Alek rose.
Alek made it to his feet in time to jump out of the way of a second ball of force, this one cratering the ground where he had just been standing. Gustav was on him almost instantly, another fierce exchange of blades that Alek only survived due to instinct and his superhuman gifts. Alek parried one of Gustav's strikes only to be struck in the forehead with the pommel of Gustav's sword. Blood began trickling out of the gash on his forehead, as well as from numerous cuts and small wounds Alek now realized he had. The unfamiliar sensation of truly being injured flooded back. Only Samnusen had really given him a challenge, Alek thought distantly as his vision clouded. But he had still be able to brute force his way to victory. As the stars cleared from his sight, Alek realized that wouldn't be enough this time.
Before Gustav could finish him, Alek charged forwards, albeit unsteadily. Some instinct hidden deep within him screamed to duck, and he obeyed, dropping his upper body just as Gustav swept his blade in what would have been a decapitation strike. Launching himself and his own blade upwards, Alek cried out in victory as his sword went unblocked. Gustav had sensed the stroke and dodged, swiftly darting a handful of paces backwards. But not before Alek's blade caught the man in his his shoulder, shearing through the plate armor and lopping off his sword arm halfway through the bicep. Gustav's arm fell with a lifeless thud, and his curved sword clattered to the ground.
If there had been a man under that armor, true flesh and blood, the fight would have ended there. But Gustav merely stopped for a moment and shook his head, and Alek realized that, perhaps, he was in over his head.
“Not bad,” the man said, his voice trembling, but not with pain. “Not bad at all. I mean, it's rather obvious you're awful with a sword, but I'll fix that. You and I will-”
Gustav never got to finish his sentence. With a sudden snarl of frustration, Alek hurled his sword with such force that it resembled a disk, humming through the air. It caught Gustav in the chest, shredding flesh, bone, and plate armor as it ripped through him, sending him hurling backwards almost two dozen yards, showering the marketplace with black blood, ruined pieces of armor, and rotten, ruined entrails.
There was an abrupt silence as Gustav's body twitched on the ground. Even Titus stood there stunned, his staff at the ready, momentarily frozen by the sudden violence. Alek took a cautious step forwards when a wet, gurgling sound came from Gustav. The shredded figure rolled a few times before finally hauling itself to his feet. Gustav stood up, his upper torso crookedly hung off of his lower body where Alek's sword at ripped through him, too-thick black blood slowly running down his arms and legs, creating a morass of thick, congealed ooze at his feet.
“I am sorry Gustav,” Gustav said, his voice hoarse and weak through his helmet, “but it looks like you and I are at the end of our partnership.”
Alek was confused, and then startled when another voice, similar to Gustav's but faint and distant, also came from the helmet.
“No! Don't! You still need me!”
Gustav shook his head. “Your body has only a few moments left to it, so I'm calling in your marker. Besides,” Gustav removed his helmet with his remaining hand and smiled at Alek. “I've found a far superior replacement.”
The distant voice cried out, but Alek couldn't hear what it said. Gustav's body erupted in a mass of black, diseased flesh. What remained of his breastplate cracked as his chest cavity warped and swelled in size, and tendril-like growths ripped through the large hole Alek's sword had carved through his body. Where the missing arm had been, a fleshy appendage, slick-looking and wet, dangled. One of Gustav's legs burst through his armor showing swollen, knotted, purple-bruised flesh. A wave of noxious gas and fumes washed over Alek, staggering him backwards from the stench alone.
“There, that's over with,” Gustav said, his words gurgling out of him. His mouth had contorted into a sneer, jaw lolling open like one touched by the gods. More of the black fluid trailed down both sides of his mouth. “Apologies, but I'm going to have to make this quick. This body doesn't have a whole lot of time left, so please remain still.”
Gustav leaped forward, tendrils extended from his chest and arms. Alek jumped to one side, avoiding the monster's grasp. Alek could hear wet clicking and snapping sounds from Gustav's body as Gustav’s own bones snapped under the mass of flesh surging around them. The thick, knotted appendage on Gustav's shoulder shot outwards in a backhanded motion, catching Alek in the jaw and sending him sprawling backwards. Stars danced in his vision as he quickly rolled out of the way as Gustav landed where he had just been. His tendrils, Alek saw, now ended in cruel looking barbs. It took Gustav a second to dislodge himself from the cobblestones, and Alek took full advantage, pummeling Gustav's face with his fists, and Alek could feel the bone of Gustav's skull crushing and splintering under his blows, but under the bone was a soft, supple sensation, like punching slick, wet leather. That was what was holding Gustav together, Alek realized, not his bones.
Gustav gurgled in an approximation of pain, but Alek didn't let up. Drawing a fist back, and summoning what strength he could, Alek prepared to finish things when he felt three punctures in his back. There was a flash of incredible pain, and then numbness. His back all but gave out on him, and he sagged backwards. But he didn't fall. He couldn't. Gustav's tendrils had wrapped around him in an almost gentle embrace.
Panic set in as Alek's body started to turn against him. Gustav gurgled a cruel laugh as the two long, writhing tendrils in his chest lanced forward to impale Alek. Only Alek's reflexes saved him, as his hands shot up and caught the tendrils mere inches from his chest. His arms trembled as he fought against the hideous, fluid strength of Gustav's body. More of the barbs and claws pierced his sides and back, sending a mixture of searing pain and cold numbness through his body. Slowly his strength faded, and Alek knew his body was failing him. Try as he might, he couldn't stop Gustav. He began to scream, a mixture of fear, pain, and impotent anger as the clawed tendrils moved ever closer to his heart.
“Good,” Gustav slurred, as if reading Alek's thoughts. “Now you understand.”
The sound of blood rushing in Alek's ears became a torrent and, though he was still screaming, he couldn't hear his own voice. His heartbeat became almost a solid thrum in his ears. Darkness seeped into Alek's vision as whatever poisons Gustav used began to overwhelm him. The last words to enter his mind weren't Gustav's, however. They echoed from his own memories, as if hearing them from across time itself.
Be still child, the memory said.
He was a child again, and the monster was standing over his father's corpse.
You are mine now, the Akvan's voice said.
Alek’s screams intensified, but the fear was gone. Only blinding hot rage fueled it.
There was a sudden feeling, a breaking sensation in Alek's chest. For an instant he feared it was his heart exploding. But then he felt it. His bonds were loosed.
The tether burst.
And everything went white.
Chapter Thirty
A rush of brilliant white-gold light blasted outwards from Alek's body, sending Gustav staggering backwards from the sudden force, one hand raised to his
face as if to shield his eyes from the glare. In an instant, the searing flames within him burned away the numbing poisons in his blood, and Alek rose, his fists and eyes glowing like miniature suns. Alek's wounds throbbed and pulsed with that same white-gold light, as if his flesh were little more than a thin shell covering an inferno. With a shout that was half-battle cry, half-animal roar, Alek flew towards Gustav, slamming into him and grabbing the writhing monster by the bulges of blighted flesh on his chest. Lifting him off the ground, Alek raced forwards towards the Keep of the Bells.
Holding Gustav up like a simple shield, Alek plowed through the city, bursting through stone walls and wooden storefronts alike with the force of a hurricane. Crashing through the Commerce District, Alek didn't slow down as he slammed Gustav through the countless walls of the Keep of the Bells, the white-gold light intensifying as he charged ahead through offices, storerooms, and private chambers. Gustav screamed in pain, both from the impacts and from the searing heat coming of of Alek's hands. They burst out of the other side of the Keep in a shower of broken stone, mortar, and timbers, finding themselves in a small public park.
Alek let go of Gustav, who went tumbling backwards, his scorched flesh and ruined plate armor a cacophony of screeching metal as he skidded across the cobblestones of a nearby street. Alek raised his now-gleaming fists and charged ahead again, heedless of the world around him. He unleashed a barrage of wild punches, burning fists streaking like comets streaking through a night sky. Now it was Gustav's turn to be outmatched. His bulging, fleshy figure was forced to dodge, block, and sidestep almost every blow, with a brilliant crackle of white-gold flame cascading up his long, fleshy appendages whenever Alek's fists made contact. Gustav cried out as Alek's own strength and speed rapidly increased, and one mighty fist caught Gustav square in the chest, leaving a smoldering, fist-shaped crater in its wake. White-gold energy played briefly over the gash, burning away at the plate. With a loud metallic snapping sound, what was left of Gustav's armor fell to the ground in a smoking ruin.