by Ben Wolf
“They’re coming out of the floor!” someone shouted.
The fissures. The boulders and resin had given way during the last incident, when Justin had almost died, and now they gaped wider, and mutations were climbing out of them.
Rifle-fire and screams sounded behind Justin, and he turned back with his repeater raised.
Private DouPonce stood near a fissure, firing his rifle into it and shouting.
A sinewy, distorted arm arose behind his leg, and a long, black spike plunged into the back of his thigh and pierced out the front.
A dozen grotesque hands clawed at his legs and ankles from within the fissure, and they pulled him off his feet.
He kept firing, kept shouting.
Pulse rounds shredded the heads and torsos of the mutations pulling at him, but they had little effect. Another spiked arm plunged into his gut, just above his waist, and he gasped.
As the hands and spikes pulled Private DouPonce’s legs into the fissure, Private Landry hobbled over and unloaded a barrage of pulses into the mutations. Dark liquid spurted into the air as Stecker and Captain Mitchell joined him, but nothing helped.
Private DouPonce’s torso entered the fissure next, and his cries persisted. The disfigured hands clamped onto his shoulders, neck, and face, tearing into his flesh, and he dropped his rifle into the abyss.
He reached for the edge of the fissure with his hand and grabbed it, but another spike pierced his wrist and broke his grasp.
Amid Private DouPonce’s gurgling gasps, the mutations pulled him into the fissure. Then he was gone.
Everyone around Justin kept shooting and yelling. Over it all, Captain Mitchell shouted, “To the pillars!”
Justin leaped over one of the fissures and the mutations emerging from it. Mangled appendages scraped the soles of his boots, but he landed firmly and ran for the pillars.
He navigated the field of scattered debris and mutated limbs protruding from the ground, jumped, and grabbed the highest rung of the pillar he could reach. He drove his toes into the corresponding openings below. Then he hooked his repeater to his belt and began to climb.
Shannon hit the pillar on the opposite side and scrambled for purchase, then she, too, began to climb. Beyond her, Stecker, Garth, and Dirk climbed another one. Justin didn’t bother looking for anyone else. They’d either make it or not, independent of him.
He’d made it about ten feet up when screeches and moans from below snatched his attention. Several mutations had reached his pillar and now started to climb as well.
But these weren’t the same mutations as the workers they’d already encountered. These were somehow worse.
Totally devoid of humanity, covered in knotted, ash-black hides, missing lower jaws, deformed beyond recognition. Vacant black eyes, enlarged and glistening. Lanky limbs tipped with spikes or crippled hands with protruding bones.
And these ones didn’t die or stop when they got shot. The ones that killed Private DouPonce hadn’t even slowed from all the rifle pulses fired into them.
So Justin kept climbing. If shooting wouldn’t help, he’d rather get to the platform fast.
A wet crack sounded nearby. He glanced over and saw a mutation drop from underneath Dirk, who still held his pipe. At least they weren’t resistant to brute strength and battery, too.
He’d climbed another twenty feet before the first mutation caught up. It latched onto his heel with ropelike fingers.
Justin kicked free and climbed higher, but it pursued him and grabbed his foot again. This time, its fingers coiled around his right foot and pulled it loose from the pillar.
Justin clamped onto a bar with his left hand but already felt his fingers slipping as the mutation pulled him down. He released his grip with his right hand, squeezed his fist hard, and swung his energy blade.
It severed the mutation’s hand from its wrist, and the mutation shrieked. Dark liquid spurted out of its wrist.
But Justin was free of its grasp. He opened his fist again and continued climbing.
Fifty feet. Sixty feet.
He stole a look at Shannon. She’d managed to keep pace with him, but the mutations on her side weren’t moving as fast as the one that had grabbed ahold of him.
On the pillar beyond, Justin saw Etya, and Captain Mitchell reach the top of theirs. Ten feet below them, Private Landry continued to climb, and ten feet lower, mutations swirled around the pillar after them.
Seventy feet. Seventy-five.
Justin climbed until his robotic fingers grasped the edge of the catwalk, and he pulled himself under the safety rail and onto its grated metal surface.
He got up to his knees, crossed eight feet to the opposite side, then bent over and reached down for Shannon with his right arm. “Grab my hand!”
She did, and he hauled her up. They immediately drew their repeaters, aimed down at the mutations crawling up after them, and fired. Pulses tore into the mutations, and they peeled a few off of the pillars, but the mutations were going to overtake them.
“We need to run,” Shannon said before Justin could.
He nodded. “To the platform. We can make a stand there.”
The whir of the turbines had escalated to a roar now that they’d gotten so close, and wind whipped all around them from the turbines’ incredible force.
Ahead of them, Stecker and Dirk pulled Garth onto the catwalk. Beyond them, Captain Mitchell helped Etya up and hollered down at Landry to hurry while Carl and Noby, already on the catwalk, looked on with their repeaters drawn.
Private Landry grabbed the edge of the catwalk and started pulling himself up. When Landry got his torso above the edge of the grating, Captain Mitchell grabbed his wrist.
Then blackened, bone-tipped hands knifed into Landry’s left shoulder from below, and he yelled. Vivid red blood spurted from the top of his shoulder.
“Hold on!” Captain Mitchell yelled as he yanked on Landry’s arm and braced himself against the grating. “Don’t you dare let go!”
Justin and the others all ran to help, but as they drew near, Landry’s arm slipped out of Captain Mitchell’s grasp, and he disappeared over the edge of the catwalk, screaming as he fell.
Captain Mitchell sat on the catwalk, his mouth agape. He was now the last IPM.
“Come on, Captain.” Stecker hooked one arm under Captain Mitchell’s armpit and jerked him to his feet. “We’re not done yet.”
Captain Mitchell blinked and shook his head, recalibrated. “Let’s go.”
They ran toward the platform, still a few hundred feet away, shooting at encroaching mutations trying to climb over the edges of the catwalk and jumping over the extended limbs that tried to hook their legs. Every few seconds, sickening thwacks sounded behind Justin—Dirk’s pipe, taking care of business.
“Why are these ones so much harder to kill?” Justin asked.
“They are the workers who died in the initial accident,” Etya said as they reached the platform. “I recognized some of their faces, deformed as they were. I do not know why they are stronger.”
Another thwack, and another mutation dropped next to Justin. Dirk hopped over it and started toward the next mutation.
“They were exposed to phichaloride gas and must have receded into the cavern floor,” Etya continued. “Perhaps they encountered the copalion reserves and the radiation hardened them. Then the company filled in the fissures, or tried to, to cover up the atrocity.”
Carl pointed at her, breathing heavily. “That is not true.”
“It is true, and you know it,” Etya fired back.
“Enough.” Stecker stepped between them. “Garth, get to work on the terminal. Etya, help him however you can. The rest of us will try to buy you time.”
Garth and Etya hurried over to the terminal.
Justin stole a long look at the mainframe terminal—a massive, gray, metal thing, extending from the platform floor to the cavern ceiling. Its screens were dark, and no light emanated from it anywhere else, either.
Garth had opened an access hatch under the main console, crawled underneath it, and now reached up into the terminal.
Adjacent to the platform and perpendicular to the main catwalk, the narrower catwalk led in front of the three smaller turbines embedded in the cavern wall. They roared at full blast as well, sucking air in hard.
“Here they come!” Captain Mitchell yelled over the commotion.
Justin faced forward and raised his repeater. Everyone else formed up on the edge of the platform and aimed their weapons down the catwalk as a sea of blackened, mutated flesh flowed toward them. He fired along with everyone else.
Etya handed Garth the tool he’d asked for, then she looked back at the rest of the group. Their pulses tore into the mutations and slowed them down, but it didn’t stop them. The group would be overrun in moments.
“Hurry, Garth.”
“I’m trying!” he snapped. “This isn’t as easy as it looks.”
Etya frowned. She’d come so far, gotten so close. Would her old coworkers, some of them likely her friends from before her accident, now overwhelm and kill her?
How could Mark allow this to happen to her? She had loved him, and he had loved her back. She of all people didn’t deserve his wrath.
The cavern walls, scarred from Gruden’s pinwheeling laser during the first incident, mocked her.
The gunfire hummed on. The screeches of her mutated coworkers persisted, and the shouts of the remaining survivors fending them off grew louder.
Soon, something would happen, one way or another.
“Please hurry, Garth,” she said. “You are my only hope now.”
Justin’s repeater had dropped to twenty percent. Still enough to keep shooting, but they’d barely kept the mutations from advancing. It wouldn’t last forever.
“We have to blow the catwalk!” Stecker shouted.
“We don’t have a reason to go back that way, do we?” Captain Mitchell asked.
“Even if we did, this is our only option,” Stecker yelled.
“Just blow it, man!” Dirk shouted.
Stecker was right. If Stecker and Captain Mitchell, the only two who still had rifles left, could take down the catwalk with their grenade launchers, then maybe they’d stand a chance.
“I’ll hit the left side. You take the right.” Stecker cocked the grenade launcher attachment and took aim.
“Okay.” Captain Mitchell cocked his grenade launcher as well and took aim.
“Now!” Stecker shouted.
Two successive thunks sounded, and two explosions followed. Metal grating squealed and twisted, and mutations ablaze with orange flames careened toward the cavern floor.
“Again!” Stecker cocked the grenade launcher a second time.
He fired another grenade, and Captain Mitchell’s soon followed. The resulting explosions ripped the chasm in the catwalk wide open, and more mutations hurtled toward their doom, but those that followed leaped over the gap and landed on the remaining stretch of catwalk.
Justin and the others mowed them down, but it wouldn’t be enough. The gap wasn’t wide enough.
They’d keep coming.
“Got it!” Garth shouted from under the mainframe terminal.
Before Etya’s eyes, the mainframe terminal’s screens blinked on, shining pale, green light that gradually brightened, and the console lit up with green lights.
Hope filled her chest. Maybe there is a chance after all…
As Garth crawled out from under the console, Etya started toward it with her prosthetic hand extended.
“Aim for the nearest pillar!” Shannon shouted. “One high, one low!
“I’ll take high!” Stecker called.
Two more cocks, two more thunks, and two more explosions blew the pillar apart.
“Etya, what are you doing?” Garth asked. “I need to configure it first.”
Etya didn’t stop. She reached for the console.
The far edge of the catwalk groaned, sank, and spilled dozens of mutations down to the cavern floor amid fiery chunks of metal.
The last several mutations tried to leap across, but they fell twenty feet short of the catwalk’s edge.
They’d done it.
Justin whooped and hollered, and he wrapped Shannon in a huge hug. Then Dirk joined them. At first, Justin wanted to push him away, but he didn’t. They’d made it this far and kept the mutations from being able to follow. And they’d done it together.
So he didn’t push Dirk away. He opened his left arm up, wrapped it around Dirk’s back, and pulled him in closer.
Then Justin saw Etya, silhouetted in the green light from the mainframe terminal’s screens. She reached forward and touched the console.
In his mind, he knew she was about to shut down the turbines using the master override code, but something about it felt off. Wrong. Though he couldn’t decipher what it was, the cauldron in his stomach swirled.
Something moved in his hand. He looked around Shannon at his repeater, now pressed awkwardly against her back and near Dirk’s hip.
The Nebrandt plant was blooming.
Etya touched the console and transferred the master override code through her fingertips. She’d done it.
“Etya?” a voice called to her. A familiar voice.
She stepped away from the console, and a form made of glowing green light materialized in front of her and sharpened into the shape of a man.
Mark.
“You’re with me?” she asked.
“I am,” Mark replied.
She smiled.
“Etya?” Another voice filtered into her human ear from the right side. “Are you alright?”
Her smile evaporated. It was Garth.
The man made of green light faded to nothing.
Etya turned toward Garth and pointed her prosthetic fist at him. Her fist parted in the center and folded back. A barrel extended from it, and the opening glowed yellow.
He froze. “Etya? What are you—”
“Pig,” she spat.
A thick beam of yellow light shot into Garth’s chest. It launched him off of the platform and into the cavern wall with a satisfying smack, then he dropped to the cavern floor below. A wave of pleasure spread throughout both halves of Etya’s body.
Mark whispered, “Now you’re mine once again.”
“Yes. I am yours, my love.”
Then Etya turned her fist toward the others.
Justin couldn’t believe his eyes. The ghost was standing next to Etya, and Etya had just blown Garth away.
Now she pointed her hand cannon at the rest of the group.
Something moved to Justin’s left—a quick, jerking action.
Captain Mitchell. He’d raised his rifle toward Etya.
Clack-clack-clack. A burst of rifle pulses.
Captain Mitchell sprawled on the platform in front of Justin, missing most of his face.
But Etya hadn’t killed him.
Stecker had.
33
Justin didn’t raise his repeater. If he had, Stecker would’ve shot him next.
Noby moved first. He positioned himself between Stecker and Carl, behind the rest of the group, but he didn’t raise his repeater either. Dirk and Shannon froze, and the whole group backed up near the edge of the platform.
Stecker’s rifle pointed at them, but he didn’t fire. “Weapons down. Everyone.”
“Stecker?” Shannon glanced between him and Etya. “What is this?”
“I said put down your weapons. I won’t say it a third time.”
What the hell is going on? Justin’s repeater slipped out of his hand and hit the platform.
Three more repeaters clattered at his feet, and a clang sounded next. Dirk’s pipe.
“Kick them over the edge,” Stecker commanded. “Captain Mitchell’s rifle, too.”
The group hesitated.
Stecker fired a shot at the cavern ceiling.
Justin flinched. Everyone did, except for Etya and Stecker.
Stecker glared at him.
The others kicked their weapons backward and over the edge.
Justin held his hands up and repositioned his footing so he could get rid of Captain Mitchell’s rifle without risking hitting Stecker. It careened off the platform as well.
Stecker nodded. “Now Captain Mitchell’s body. Justin, Dirk—you two send him over.”
“What?” Justin asked. “What are you doing, Stecker?”
“Do as I say, Justin.” Stecker’s voice was like steel. “Do it now.”
Justin looked at Dirk, who nodded slightly. Together, they bent down and picked up Captain Mitchell’s body. Dirk had him under his armpits, and Justin picked up his legs.
Captain Mitchell’s tactical belt held all sorts of tech and other utilities that they might’ve been able to use. But after a quick three-count, they tossed him over the edge and returned to their positions with the rest of the group.
“What the hell is going on, Stecker?” Carl demanded.
Stecker didn’t say a word.
Instead, Etya spoke. “You have come to the end, Carl.”
Everyone looked at her. Noby still shielded Carl with his body, but Carl poked his head around Noby’s massive form.
“Mark has returned, and he knows what you have done.” Etya smiled, but it looked like a smirk because only half of her face was human. “He demands a reckoning.”
The ghost—Mark—vanished from her side and reappeared directly in front of them.
The group gave a collective gasp.
“Carl,” Mark said, his voice surprisingly soft. “I know you had me killed. I found proof.”
“That’s—that’s not true,” Carl said.
“Yes, it is.” Mark folded his arms. “When I fell into the fissure, I was wearing my mech suit. I don’t know how it happened, but when I hit the copalion reserve under the cavern floor, my body died. Copalion is highly radioactive, and while its potential for yielding energy and fuel is unquestionable, mankind hasn’t even scratched the surface of what it can really do.
