She smiled at the recollection. Maria was still a troublesome toddler that first night, and Philip’s teenage growth spurt was still years away. Emily, Anita, Philip and San were taking turns removing wooden blocks from the tower and stacking them on top. The miniature structure on the coffee table grew taller and taller, and the last turn belonged to San. With sweat on his brow, he drew a final block and stacked it on the others. The tower swayed precariously, and they all watched in anticipation to see if it would stand. Before the tower settled in completely, assuring San’s victory, Maria collided with the table. She was on her way to ask her parents for an ice cream bar when she tripped on the living room rug. The tower exploded, sending wooden bricks everywhere. San was sullen at first, but he eventually got over his disappointment and laughed along with the rest of the family. He invited Emily over for a rematch the following week, and she accepted. For years, she never missed a game.
Betraying the others had been easy. She loathed Wagner, and she was too intelligent to be blindly loyal to the drones in the staff. Killing Marcus had been…unfortunate, but she didn’t lose sleep over it. He knew what he was getting into when he signed up, and he would have killed her before letting her leave with Lateralis.
Besides, her cause was just. Katharos was creating a better world, and true purification could never happen without skimming off the slag.
Still, the moment of her betrayal had been difficult. Her friendship with the Torres family was real, and she had cried every day for weeks after leaving San’s house for the last time. She was pained by the fact that the last thing she said to him was a lie.
After attempting to manipulate Jarrod Hawkins, Emily had set out to steal Lateralis. She framed Dean Wagner, hoping to trick Jarrod into attacking Hillcrest and drawing the security team away from the Lateralis test site. At first, she thought her plan had succeeded. She led a crew of mercenaries to the remote location and didn’t see a single soul standing watch. But Jarrod had seen through her plan. He didn’t attack Hillcrest, and even convinced them to airlift him to the test site. As Emily approached the secure warehouse, the door began opening. She was forced to improvise. Thankfully, Marcus and his team were taken completely off-guard, and the mission was still a success.
Well, mostly, Emily thought. Before her men could finish securing their prize, Jarrod showed up and tore her men apart, even the Katharos General, Vasile Kharkov.
She had to admit, Jarrod’s display of lethality was impressive. Under different circumstances, she would have loved to have him as an ally. But he couldn’t be controlled, and she knew it. Project Nerium, the multi-billion-dollar program that turned Jarrod into a killing machine, was doomed from the start. The scientists at Hillcrest had underestimated the power of the human brain, and Jarrod had escaped. Lateralis, on the other hand, was a masterpiece—a super-soldier that could be controlled remotely. The cyber automaton was devastatingly effective in combat, and proved it dozens of times in the previous weeks. Secretly, Emily wondered how the machine would have fared against Jarrod. Jarrod had not been stripped of all vestiges of humanity, which meant he still had a weakness—emotion. Absolute victory in battle could only be assured when emotion sat on the sidelines and cold logic took the field. That was why Emily had chosen Jarrod’s deceased wife, Melody, for the project. If a confrontation ever arose, she knew Jarrod’s feelings for his wife would be his downfall, proving the superiority of science over sentiment.
But Jarrod was gone. She had killed him herself, so her belief in Lateralis’ superiority would have to remain untested. He had been a loose end, and so was the Torres family.
Emily’s chest tightened. She loved San and his family, but what was love other than a mixture of chemicals and electrical signals in the brain? They were a security risk, which meant they needed to be eliminated for the cause.
She shook her head. No, they would be sacrificed for the cause. They were, unfortunately, part of the slag to be removed. When the time came, their deaths would break her heart, but she would remember them as heroes that laid down their lives for the greater good.
For the greatest good.
17
Yusef pinned the accelerator to the floor, and the M35’s diesel engine roared in response. The truck bounced and shook, dropping parts on the fissured road. He whipped the steering wheel from side to side, taking the curves at break-neck speed. The truck’s rear end slid through dirt and mud, coming dangerously close to a patch of trees. The driver flinched as the side-view mirror caught on a branch and tore away, but he kept his foot on the throttle. Fear had driven rationality from his mind. His focus was on just one thing: getting to safety.
Yusef squinted at the dim road for several minutes before he remembered to turn on the headlights. Strangely, the forest around him seemed even more terrifying with the lights on. The closest vegetation was illuminated, while the forest interior was cast into shadow. And Yusef would fear shadows for the rest of his life.
It had started quietly at first. The soldiers outside his truck were watching their hostages, waiting for the commander to reemerge from the school. Then, as if by some trick of the eye, a black shape slipped through the school’s front door and bolted around the corner. A few of the men left the hostages to investigate. Then, something began cooing from behind the trucks.
Yusef shivered. The sound was unnerving, and it drew more men away from the hostages. Cracks and snaps with no apparent source led the soldiers farther from the crowd of students. Then, as Yusef watched, a bright figure appeared in the open. It instructed the teachers to lead the children back into the school. The hostages didn’t hesitate; they ran inside as fast as they could.
Yusef wanted to warn the others of the fleeing captives, but his hand hesitated over the horn. This creature frightened him, and he didn’t want to draw its attention. When the doors closed behind the last teacher, the brightly colored…thing turned completely black. Then its face elongated, and it started to scream.
The noise was incredible. Even inside the truck, Yusef felt as if he had been stabbed in the ears. The scream only lasted a few seconds, and the dark creature held its arms in the air. The soldiers, both men and boys, came running back. They drew closer to the creature, shouting and waving their guns. What happened next frightened Yusef so completely he lost control of his bladder.
The monster attacked, moving so fast it looked like a blur. Few men fired their weapon, as they couldn’t keep track of their target. The creature tore through them, ripping off limbs and severing heads. The remaining soldiers ran for their lives, but the beast pursued them. A long-time friend of Yusef’s tossed his weapon aside in surrender, only to be cut in half at the waist. Yusef had watched in horror as his friend tried to escape by dragging his torso through the dirt.
There was so much blood in the air it took on the appearance of red fog. The men were either dead or mortally wounded and screaming in pain. Somehow, the child-soldiers were all still alive. They huddled together and clung to their weapons like teddy bears, but none dared attack the black beast.
Finally, Yusef had regained his senses. He threw the large truck in gear and cranked the wheel, heedless of anything in his path. He rolled over two dying soldiers and knocked down a street sign as he made his retreat.
Hours later and deep in the forest, he was still terrified. He was on his way to the only sanctuary he could think of—the main camp. Hasan’s superior would be there. The gray-bearded commandant had an army at his side, and was as ruthless as anyone Yusef had ever known. If any place was safe from the monster, it would at the commandant’s side.
Yusef licked his lips, then shakily lifted a canteen to his mouth. He didn’t know how he would explain what he saw. The others might consider him a coward for fleeing while his brethren fell to the beast. They might not even believe there was a beast. Yusef certainly wouldn’t if someone else told him the same story. Perhaps he could lie, say the army had arrived at the school.
Gripping the steering wheel, Yu
sef shook his head. No, the army would have vehicles to follow him with. If the commandant thought Yusef led anyone to the camp, he would have him executed. Yusef would have to tell the truth, regardless of how impossible it sounded, and risk being labeled as a weakling. Anything was better than facing the creature.
A large fire came into view, and Yusef breathed a sigh of relief. He had made it. The brakes squeaked as he brought the M35 to a stop. Two guards with torches approached, holding them up to illuminate his face. They leaned over, checking behind him for the rest of the convoy.
“Where are the rest?” one of the men asked.
“We were…attacked,” Yusef said, trying to sound confident. “I need to speak to the commandant. He will want to know about the losses we suffered.”
The guards looked at each other. After a long moment, the second said, “Leave your truck. I will take you to see him.”
Yusef was happy to oblige. He jumped from the vehicle and followed the guard toward a razor wire fence. A boy near the fence pulled it aside, and they passed into the camp.
The camp, though cleaner than some of the remote outposts Yusef had visited, smelled of sewage. Rusted pickup trucks and motorcycles were parked in random directions. Dozens of soldiers danced near a blazing fire, sipping homemade liquor and howling at the moon. There were even some women with them, their naked breasts silhouetted in the orange glow. Yusef paid them little attention, his eyes drawn to the shadows cast by the firelight.
The guard led him past ragged tarp shelters and wooden huts as they made their way to the center of camp. The commander’s tent stood taller and wider than the rest, its door pulled aside to let in the cool evening air. The guard stopped Yusef before he unwittingly walked into the mesh netting that hung in the doorway. Yusef mumbled his thanks, then passed into the canvas abode. Three men huddled around a wide computer monitor on a wooden table. The man in the middle was typing on the keyboard while a bald man with a gray beard spoke over his shoulder.
None of them looked up to see who had entered the tent, so Yusef started forward. The guard caught him by the arm and pulled him back.
“Are you stupid?” the guard whispered. “Never interrupt the general!”
“I’m sorry,” Yusef said, bowing in apology. “I assumed he would want to know right away. We lost so many men…including Hasan Sarr.”
The guard’s eyes widened. “Sarr is dead?”
Yusef nodded. He didn’t see his boss die, but after witnessing what that monster did to the other soldiers, he was certain no one made it out alive.
Emboldened by Yusef’s somber news, the guard approached the commandant and snapped a salute. The commandant froze, then slowly rotated his head. The other two men winced as if preparing for an explosion.
Instead of exploding, the commandant whispered something Yusef couldn’t hear. The guard trembled as he tried to explain himself, then pointed a finger at Yusef.
The commandant muttered a single word, and the guard ran from the tent. The commandant fixed his gaze on the newcomer and said, “Come, sit.”
Yusef nearly tripped over himself getting to the table. Every inch of the commandant inspired reverence, from his white, sightless left eye to his prosthetic foot. Sitting in his chair, Yusef felt intimidated, but also comforted. The beast at the school wouldn’t dare approach the commandant in his own camp. In this place, the commandant was master of all.
As if to punctuate Yusef’s thoughts, the bearded man pulled a knife from his belt and drove it into the table. “Is it true?” he barked. “Is my son dead?”
Yusef nodded, his eyes bulging.
Keeping his hand on the knife, the commandant took the seat next to him. “And you were one of his men?”
Yusef gave another frightened nod.
“Then tell me…why are you still alive to bring me this news? A true warrior would have fallen at Hasan’s side, or died avenging him. I am told you arrived here alone, which means you are either a deserter, or a coward. Either way…” The commandant pulled the knife from the table and held it to Yusef’s neck.
“Please!” Yusef begged. “The rest of the men were already dead. I came here to warn you.”
“Ha!” the Commandant scoffed. “No one in this country would dare attack my camp. Admit it, you came here seeking shelter, like a rabbit fleeing a storm.”
“You don’t understand,” Yusef said, tilting his chin away from the blade, “it wasn’t a man that killed your soldiers. It was a beast. A deadly shadow that can’t be killed.”
For a moment, the commandant said nothing. He set the knife down and stared at Yusef, searching for signs of deception. When he found none, he looked over his shoulder and said, “Get out.”
The two men at the far end of the table dashed from the room, pulling the tent door shut as they left. Yusef stared after them. He didn’t want to be left alone with the fearsome general.
“You say a beast killed Hasan?” the commandant asked. “Can you describe it to me?”
Yusef hadn’t been sure if anyone would believe his story. Now he had an opportunity to explain his cowardly actions. “It was black,” he said “with six arms. It could vanish and reappear in an instant, and it had black wings, like a raven.”
The general rolled his eyes and slapped Yusef across the face with a brick-like hand. “Don’t lie to me, you idiot! Remember, you are alive right now because I want you to be. Tell me what you saw, and don’t give me any bullshit fairy tales. This creature, did it look like a man?”
Yusef nodded, holding his throbbing chin in his hand.
“Were its eyes black, like empty wells?”
Yusef hesitated, fearing another slap. Finally, he said, “I don’t know.”
The general frowned. “What weapons did it use to kill the men?”
“I’m not sure,” Yusef said. “It moved so quickly, I could barely see it. It seemed to have claws like a falcon, but it might have had swords, too.”
“It killed Hasan and his warriors with claws and swords?” the commandant asked, folding his arms over his chest.
“I swear it did!” Yusef answered. “Everyone except the children.”
The commandant shook his head. “What else can you tell me about the creature?”
Yusef shivered as he thought back. He remembered how the beast seemed to vanish into the darkness, and the strange, infant-like noises it made as it drew its prey away from the school. As he spoke, his eyes probed the shadows in the corners of the tent. “It could change colors, but it was mostly black. When it entered the shadows, it seemed to disappear completely.”
The commandant began drumming his fingers on the table. “It changed colors and disappeared? Did any parts of its body look like metal?”
“Metal?” Yusef asked.
The commandant clenched and unclenched his fist. “Yes, metal, like the chair you are sitting on.”
Yusef shook his head. “It didn’t look like that at all. It looked like it was made of pitch.”
The commandant shifted in his seat. With one hand, he rubbed at his good eye. With the other, he surreptitiously reached for a pistol on his belt.
“You are wise and have seen many strange things,” Yusef said. “Do you know what this beast is?”
“Of course I do,” the commandant said, his hand curling around the pistol’s grip. “It’s a lie, formed in the wild imagination of a coward.”
“No, I swear—” Yusef stopped short. His eyes roamed the room in search of the right words, and something caught his attention. A shadow next to a filing cabinet seemed to grow taller.
Yusef screamed and fell from his chair, then clawed his way toward the door. The commandant whirled around, more annoyed than concerned. He searched the tent, expecting to find one of his subordinates. Before he could comprehend the source of Yusef’s fear, a voice said, “General, I’m so pleased to meet you.”
18
Philip swatted at something on his neck, then withdrew his hand to see the crushed remains o
f a large mosquito. He groaned, knowing he would soon have an irritating welt. “How much longer until breakfast is ready?”
“As long as it takes,” Anita snapped, a little harsher than she intended to.
Philip made a sour face and rolled his eyes. “I was just asking, you don’t have to bite my head off.”
Anita took a deep breath. Normally she could handle her teenage son, but yesterday’s experience with the mutilated jogger was still fresh in her mind. Philip had no idea how lucky he was. If it wasn’t for Anita’s instincts, he might not even be alive right now. As the weight of that thought sank in, Anita realized how lucky she was. If it wasn’t for Eugene’s decisive action, both of her children would be orphans. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself that she needed to be strong. She flipped an egg over, and it sizzled on the propane griddle. “Two minutes,” she said. “Why don’t you tell your father it’s time to eat?”
Before Philip could move, the zippered door on the nearby tent slid open and San poked his head out. “Did somebody mention food?” As he emerged from the tent, a pair of arms came into view, wrapped tightly around his chest. Maria was clinging to her father like a leech.
“Honey,” San said, “I think I might need to lose a few pounds. I’m feeling awfully sluggish lately.” The comment made his daughter grin, but she kept quiet, as if silence would keep her father from noticing she was there.
Anita handed a stack of paper plates to Philip, who begrudgingly set the table.
Maria let go of San, and he said, “Never mind, I suddenly feel forty pounds lighter.”
The family settled in, and Maria, noticing an empty seat, said, “Where’s Tía?”
“I think auntie Susana is still asleep,” Anita said. Speaking a little louder, she added, “It’s okay, she likes her eggs cold.”
“I heard that,” came a voice from an orange single-person tent. There was a shuffling noise, and the sound of a zipper rolling upward, then getting caught on the fabric.
The Path Of The Nightmare Page 12
