by Tim Curran
Redcarr paused the image. The frame was filled by the top half of the Thrasher. In the background a fighter was spiraling to the ground. Montenegro toyed with the arrow keys until he was satisfied with the clarity of the picture; the halo was plainly visible and sharp against the darkening sky.
“Maddie, look!” the young man pointed excitedly at the fiery symbols now frozen mid-revolution.
His partner gazed at the image. “I see it.”
“What do you see?” said Redcarr.
Montenegro pulled open his file and started to rifle through his notes. Redcarr caught glimpses of hastily scrawled passages surrounding crude drawings of runes, mathematical formulae, and photocopies of ancient rubbings. The interpreter suddenly yanked out a sheet and held it up to the monitor screen.
“There! It’s the same! We have just deciphered this one!”
As Redcarr scanned back and forth between the images he noted the similarities: concentric circles containing four distinct geometric shapes, those same shapes repeated, twisting into the center.
“We believe it means substance,” said King, referring to her own notes, “elemental form.”
“Material,” said Montenegro excitedly, “we saw the same shapes in the halo of the New York Thrasher.”
“So, you can decipher the rest?” said Redcarr.
“I think so,” said King.
“Just a simple case of reverse-engineering the symbolism,” said Montenegro, already sketching the adjacent sign and scribbling furiously next to it.
Redcarr looked at his watch. Rollover should be close to engagement by now. He was itching to resume the feed, but had no intention of interfering with a potential breakthrough. “Well?” he pushed. “Can you read it?”
The interpreters spoke as one, their words tumbling over each other.
“Fire,” said King.
“Not fire, burning,” retorted Montenegro, “it’s a descriptive rune.”
“Burning, then,” said King, “burning matter.”
“What the hell does that mean?” said Redcarr, angrily, “That just describes the bloody halo.”
“No, sir, wait,” said Montenegro, “we can continue to simplify it.”
He returned to his notes and King did likewise, as Redcarr heard the unmistakable rumble of his AC returning down the corridor.
“Quickly,” said Redcarr, snapping his fingers, “give me something good.”
Montenegro slid his working notes over to him and Redcarr followed the linguistic equation as it cascaded down the page, simplifying yet becoming more complicated as it reached a conclusion that was not good.
Two words.
Hot Stuff.
Life in the Shadow of
Living Gods
BREAKING POINT
Sam Stone
Kerys and Mai huddled down behind the remaining dried husks of trees and watched as a group of men loitered by the rusting slide. They were smoking something. It might have been the remnants of tobacco-filled cigarettes, difficult to find, or some of the new stuff that was favored among the scavengers because of its hallucinogenic properties. Kerys didn’t know. She didn’t care. All she cared about was that she and Mai weren’t seen.
These were dark days. The end of all eras. A fall from grace that could never be rectified. A cold and vicious wind swept through the deserted land. All signs of life were fading, as trees shriveled from their roots upwards, weeds no longer thrived unchecked and the patches of grass looked like dried, charred wasteland.
In what used to be a children’s playground a dried bush, ripped out by the roots, rolled with the airstream like tumbleweed. Dull clouds loomed overhead. There was an absence of noise. The world was afraid to speak; even the wind’s whistle was subdued as though it were scared to draw any attention to itself.
The swings nearby creaked gently in the breeze. The roundabout had long since rusted, unmoveable, and the slide was caked in filth—ash and acid rain that fell intermittently from the poison-filled sky.
Kerys and Mai had ventured out from what had been a safe hidey-hole down by the docks. It was early morning, though the light remained dimmed. The need for food had pushed away their natural fear of the outside. It wasn’t just the cold, harsh weather or the days that never quite got light; it was the others they feared the most.
“What should we …” Mai began.
“Shush.…” Kerys cautioned.
The wind howled around and through the woodland as though attempting to reveal their hiding place. They couldn’t move. To try to leave would reveal their presence; there was nothing they could do but wait.
They didn’t have long.
Driven away by the cold, the group of men began to shift. Cigarette stubs were dropped, still burning, to the dried and cracked soil. Loud raucous chatter followed them, and it made it easier for Kerys to track their progress as she and Mai lingered.
Patience was something they had learned the hard way, though the waiting was always difficult, especially when the fear kicked in. And there was always fear. It was on the air, they could taste it in every ash-tainted breath they took, in every mouthful of scavenged food. In every drop of rain that fell.
“Come on,” Kerys said finally.
“But where?” Mai complained.
“That way,” Kerys said, pointing towards the remnants of the town ahead.
“Not there …” Mai was afraid.
“We have no choice if we want to eat tonight.”
“We could scavenge. That’s what others do.”
“We’d have to fight for every morsel. Besides, that’s why the scavengers aren’t surviving,” Kerys pointed out, “and we are.”
Kerys hurried across the playground, Mai tried to keep up. Exposed places were always the most difficult when it came to dealing with other scavengers or, worse still, them¸ but it was a risk that was unavoidable.
Hunger clutched at Kerys’s stomach; it growled as though it were responding to the wind. As they reached the other side of the open space, Mai gripped her hand and whispered harshly into her ear.
“I can’t do it. I’d rather starve than let another of them touch me again.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You’ll do what they want. We both will. Then we can get back and feed the children. If not for ourselves, we’ll do this for them.”
Mai fell quiet. She knew what this trip meant more than most. Her pretty, petite figure was always a draw. It was why Kerys brought her along. So few Chinese women had survived. Mai would make good trade, but Kerys would do well, too. Perhaps even better than her friend, because of her unusual scars. They liked to see the damage that had been done by the battle at the end of days. Suffering in any form delighted them.
They reached the outskirts of the town unaccosted, then skirted around the edges, avoiding any humans if they saw them. They passed the high-street shops with their shattered windows. A food store had its doors ripped from their hinges, the contents long since looted. The streets were full of waste, animal and human, but the animals were fewer now, as the scavengers caught them for food. The smell was awful.
A roar in the distance brought them both to a halt. One of the Old Ones was out. Hunting down humans to enslave, or kill; it didn’t matter which, as both meant death in the end.
Mai huddled against the side of the old library building, afraid to go on. Kerys took her hand once more. She pulled Mai to her feet. The Old Ones didn’t concern them. They had made a deal, and they would survive because of it. But first they had to reach the half-breeds.
Kerys and Mai had visited the lair before. It was the journey that was always such a challenge. The half-breeds paid well for what the girls had to offer, and the commune would be able to survive for several weeks on what they would bring back. But it was a horrible thing to face. The prodding, the staring, the couplings that left them bruised and battered. Then that vague moment of what Kerys chose to think of as kindness, when the girls were given a cart of food to take home.
“Almost there,” Kerys said, but her words were unnecessary.
Mai was shaking so hard that Kerys heard her teeth chatter.
“I won’t survive this time,” she said. “I’m not as strong as you.”
“You will,” Kerys said. “You have to, or we all die.”
Kerys took her hand. They had reached the entrance. Above the door was a broken and cracked sign. The name was gone, but the underground symbol still remained. They began their descent down into the bowels of the old tube station.
Kerys let out the breath she had been holding. They were safe now. Outside they could have encountered anything. The Old Ones, the scavengers, or worse still, the broken ones. No one ever survived an encounter with them.
They had barely crossed the threshold when Mai squealed. A thick, slimy tentacle had brushed against her bare calf. The playing had already begun.
“You know why we’re here,” Kerys said, trying to sound braver than she felt.
The same tentacle brushed across her breasts. She tried not to move. The thing shuffled backwards; she could smell its stink on her though, that awful odor of rot that accompanied the creatures. And although they never spoke, they always seemed to understand the intent of the women. Or maybe, the half-breeds, their masters, could somehow tell them telepathically. Kerys didn’t know. It was just one of those mysteries that she often pondered.
They passed down an unmoving escalator. Although there was no electricity, a greenish glow filled the corridors to light their way. Kerys had expected this: they didn’t want their playthings to injure themselves in the dark. A waft of warm air rushed around them, another testing of the goods, probably, but the air stank of breath exhaled from a rank mouth that held nothing but rotten, decayed teeth. Kerys forced back the urge to gag, and as she heard Mai begin to heave, she dug her nails into the girl’s palm, hard.
“Ouch, why did you …” Mai complained, but soon realized that Kerys had once again taken her mind away from the awful situation.
At the bottom of the escalator the corridor on the right illuminated, and the women turned and made their way further down. This one sloped, and it felt as though they were entering the bowels of the Earth.
They reached a former platform. Below, where the tube once ran at break-neck speed, the tracks were churned up; a hole lay in the center. Something foul moved inside the hole. Kerys pulled Mai back from the edge as a vicious appendage lashed out towards them.
The women pressed up against the tiled wall, keeping back from the crevice as a misty illumination led them onwards towards the side of the platform and down into the tunnel. Kerys glanced back at the hole. She wondered where it led. The center of the Earth, perhaps, or some dark dimension that contained the remnants of the evil that had destroyed and corrupted them.
Mai’s hand gripped hers tighter, and Kerys could almost feel the hysteria bubbling up inside her friend. The fear was not irrational, even though they had been through this countless times.
Once there had been three of them.
Kerys pushed aside the memory of Amanda, but not before the flash of thought delved into her final moment. She barely quelled the sight of Amanda’s insides seeping from her torso, as though she were nothing more than a stuffed doll bursting its seams.
“It won’t happen to us, will it?” Mai said.
Kerys didn’t reply. Ahead of them the old train carriage waited. She saw one of the half-breeds in there, but more would come.
“I’ll go first,” Kerys said.
She climbed up into the carriage with Mai at her heels. They could both hear the shift of movement outside as the others were drawn to them, like moths to flames. Only it was the women who were the moths; the half-breeds the flames that would burn them if they weren’t careful.
Inside the carriage was a filthy mattress. It was there for the comfort of the girls, not for the monsters, who didn’t need it. Though Kerys didn’t know if these things even slept.
Kerys slipped out of her clothing and lay down on the mattress. She tried not to look at the half-breed—not seeing them made it easier—but the smell was stronger on this one than most. It wasn’t just filth—the stench of body odor was something they all lived with—it was something else. Vile, poisonous, they smelt of disease and death. They were like the plague personified.
His appendages explored her, touched the scars. And in her mind she concentrated on that; the puckered flesh was unattractive, but not to these creatures. They liked scar tissue, and this one suckled on it as though he had found an erogenous zone. One of the limbs pushed her legs apart and she lay, accepting the probing, until the thing pushed up inside her, forcing a grunt of pain as it began to move. The thing chuckled in its throat. Giving pain pleased them.
She lay there until it was done, felt the awful flood of its seed filling her; then, as it moved away, she stood on shaking limbs. Waiting in the corner, she looked down while another one did the same thing to Mai.
Mai cried, though, and she heard the awful titter of pleasure her tears brought to the one abusing her, and she felt the excitement of the others waiting in the doorway. The tension in the air made the hairs stand up on her naked skin.
The vile seed slid down her legs, escaping when it failed to work on her, and then she was encouraged onto all fours as another one of them used her. This one grunted like a human man. Kerys kept her eyes closed, forcing herself to imagine that it was only a man after all. The pummelling wasn’t as painful as what the last one had done, and a ripple of excitement flooded her loins as she tried to enjoy it. But the creature didn’t want that, and so another appendage wrapped around her and pinched one of her nipples hard, until she cried out. Her pain brought the half-breed to his climax. Kerys collapsed under the weight of its final thrust.
Standing again she saw Mai, pressed against the window of the train, while a monstrosity pushed itself into her from behind. Through the window she saw several shapes watching. She looked away. How many would they let loose on them until their poor, battered bodies gave them what they needed?
Another picked her up, wrapped her legs around a place that could have been its waist, she squeezed her eyes closed as it lifted and lowered her on to itself. She couldn’t bear to be face to face like this, feeling its hideous breath blowing onto her cheeks.
Outside the carriage a fight broke out. The thing holding her became more excited and finally finished. Its orgasm burnt her insides like hot wax. Her eyes opened to see what the commotion was and she came face to face with it. Snout crumpled, sharp, dangerous teeth gleaming in the dark, the multiple bloodshot eyes. It leered at her like a hungry wolf. Bile rose in her throat.
I won’t be sick. They would like that too much.
Pain and suffering was a drug to them, and they enjoyed human flesh too much, which was why there were so many survivors left alive. Anyone willing to make a deal by selling themselves at least had a chance of survival. The rest would just be picked off one by one by each other or by the gods themselves.
Mai was left to stand in a corner. They waited. Nothing happened. She groaned and sobbed as she was pulled down onto the mattress again.
“Please,” she said.
This brought more laughter, Kerys wished that the girl could just remain silent. She always made it worse for herself by showing so much fear and emotion.
Kerys took her turn in the corner. She could smell the frustration of those still waiting to use her. All hoping that they could continue. It would be such a small thing that would end this for both her and Mai. She hoped that next time would be the last for Mai, at least.
One after another they came for them both. Kerys ached from head to toe, Mai cried until her eyes were swollen, and then Mai’s respite finally came.
In the corner her naked belly twitched and began to swell. One of them had finally impregnated her and the thing inside grew rapidly. Kerys was pushed aside. Mai was placed once more on the mattress until she birthed the thing, a mass of black tentacles that s
eemed to claw its way out of her, while she screamed with the worst pain yet.
Afterwards another mattress was brought in. They left Mai bleeding; the half-breed was taken from the carriage, and Kerys’s torment began again until she, like Mai, had given them another monstrosity.
The things backed away from the carriage then, though one brought them some foul cocktail that the women were forced to drink. They knew that it would help them heal somehow and so did not fight. Kerys and Mai were used to this process. After all, it had taken place once a month since the beginning of the end.
When they were sufficiently recovered, Kerys got up and began to dress. Mai remained still on the mattress. The birthing always seemed to take more out of her, and the recovery, despite the medicine, was slower than for Kerys.
“Come on Mai, we need to get back,” Kerys said.
Mai didn’t answer.
Kerys pulled her tee-shirt over her head, then she went to the second mattress. She was sore, but healing rapidly. It was a shame that they didn’t know what the potion was; it could possibly help them all heal from other injuries.
Mai turned her head towards the window. Kerys glanced there, saw that some of the creatures were still lurking. Perhaps these would be first in line next time. But they were safe for now, and they would be allowed to leave as easily as they had entered. Those had always been the rules.
Kerys helped Mai dress—she was slowly recovering her faculties. By the time Kerys pulled on her shoes, Mai was fit to leave.
“Let’s go,” Kerys said, supporting Mai with an arm around her waist. They struggled back through the corridors and up the escalator. At the entrance they found the cart. It held cans of all sorts of food, some half-rotten vegetables, and a few bottles of water, cola and lemonade.
In the shadows, scavengers shrank back, allowing them to pass. Kerys had always thought it peculiar, though, that the scavengers didn’t try to rob them as they left. In fact, no one ever came near them on the return. They had been through as much as anyone could endure; now they were given safe passage. Or maybe it was because they both reeked of the monsters that had used them. They were feared because of their association.
