The girl smiled. “Lover, I’m here to save you.”
~ 53 ~
Deus ex machina
December 1, 4124 — 7:47 AM
“Christy?” Dillon reached out; his bubble flickered.
“That’s not her name,” Jessica said with her clipper pointed level. Bunny now hung slack at her side.
“It is.” He stared at the girl, his black eyes cut with those soul-piercing silver slits. “Christy Wilde, Venus, born in a lab three hundred years ago…”
The fed cocked her head to the side, completely ignoring Nicky as he flanked towards Jessica’s side. An artificial lifeform confirmed—that answered some questions. A modern rarity, the genetically altered, biosynthetic humans were as alive as anyone, built for hard labor in harsh conditions. It explained her resiliency to dark energy and how she wirelessly hacked Shannon. That wasn’t a big deal in a fight—the problem was her military-grade armor and weapons.
“You’ve come a long way, John.” A massive explosion rocked the back wall. One strip of paneling vibrated off its rivets. Flames teased inside the warehouse. Nicky squirted a mist of foam over the breech. Christy holstered a knife. “I’m getting you guys out of here. I have a shuttle waiting for us in The Misson’s hanger.”
“Wait, what?” Jessica’s finger eased off the trigger.
“This group is lost; they can’t defend the drop port and the air at the same time. You’re not going with them, but we need to hurry.”
Dillon blinked twice and the slivers were gone.
“Goddamn it, John, concentrate; she’s lying!”
“Why would I bother?” She reached out to stroke Ayla, who snapped at her hand. “Carmichael wasn’t lying either: they’ll all be in Federal care once they surrender. But you two—you’ve earned the right to live on your own terms, unmonitored, unfettered.”
As with the first wall, a dozen harpoons pierced and hooked into its opposite. The deafening tear and clatter of the steel announced another rush of frigid air. A pair of large shadows hovered within Bunny’s range; one shuttle descended with its doors already open. The Dvoraks not pinned under the walls swarmed the aircraft. The broken remains of others turned their heads to the warehouse.
Dillon’s bubble crashed as he looked to Jessica, “Maybe it’s time.”
Christy walked backwards to the bunker’s new twenty foot opening. “C’mon Jess, Nicky, before we get caught in the cross—”
Tick.
The girl’s head spun amidst a burst of sparks. Christy fell back to her hands and knees as Dillon shouted, rushing for the clipper. Kahn finally wriggled loose and landed in a gallop. Nicky whipped an arm around the Tiger’s ankle. The beast jerked on, mere feet from his prey. Jessica fired again only to see the round ricochet off an orange disc that vanished as soon as it appeared.
Dillon’s arm was outstretched. “Stop it!”
Christy stood from her knees and tore off her helmet—it’d been cracked at the ear. Silken tresses now tossed in the breeze, framing wide-eyed shock. She holstered the second knife. “This is your last chance.”
“She lies.” Nicky reeled Kahn back to his side. “They want you alive. That much is now certain. Loki's betrayals are endless.”
“You can drop the act now, Nicolosi. Thanks for looking after them,” Christy said. Dillon’s gaze snapped to the FireBot. His jaw and fists clenched.
“Nice try, bitch—we already had that chat.” Jessica pocketed her pistol and unstrapped the rifle. A light toss and it was wound in a tentacle. She found her stick, her previous last resort, lying a footstep away. The fed’s brow wrinkled, the first break in her mask. “Are we going to settle this like big girls, or what?”
Christy tightened her gloves at the cuffs. Jessica had no doubt those fists were as rock-solid as the rest of her armor. Fair enough she wasn’t starting with the blade—arrogance, probably well-deserved. But this was the girl who seduced Dillon into apathy, manipulated her way into their confidence, and in-effect destroyed their most powerful ally. Not to mention their goal of revealing the tragedy to the Sol-System. Not to mention any more lives that had been lost in the past day. As Carmichael’s boss, she pulled some of the strings that kept this tragedy going, kept it quiet, kept it killing.
Jessica raised her stick. In a two-step blur, Christy was on her—and repelled by another orange flash. The fed juked left, then dashed right. Flanking? A blade flared to life, scraping off Dillon's reformed bubble. The expanding wave of light obscured her movements until she broke off.
Towards Nicky.
Axe and arms slapped down as Jessica lurched out with her hook. Water gushed to the warehouse floor, rippling around the bubble. Ayla yelped. Jessica yanked hard on the stick until she felt it slip. The barrier faded back to transparent.
A full tentacle lay severed on the ground over strips of shredded balloon. Nicky’s axe rocked back and forth; his visor flared brighter than she’d ever seen. Ayla’s fur bared a spot of red on her thigh, just beyond the FireBot’s now-shrunken belly. Christy had vanished.
“Fucking cunt!” Jessica could barely articulate the shout as she shoved Dillon back to Nicky. His barrier flexed before it enveloped their friends. The answering chuckle traveled around the bunker area. Too smart. Too fast. At least they were still in front of the air-dock’s door—their main duty.
Gunfire reported from both sides of the warehouse, though any military advance seemed stalled. The new mob marching down Sageway was still hidden beneath the cloud of kicked-up snow. The constant drone of moans competed with the federal attack—so they were the survivor’s deus ex machina. Fucking great. God should pay better attention.
A familiar crimson blob materialized thirty feet above Sageway. As the mist dispersed, it left a girl behind, Kati, floating amidst shimmering distortion. She lowered one palm to the first shuttle and raised the other to the warehouse. Her motions cut the noise in half. How big was her barrier? And if she was here, then—
Dillon’s bubble dented inward, shoving them all back as Nicky scooted towards the wall. Jessica scanned ground-to-sky for the source, but saw nothing. The knot in her stomach felt equal to that in the Spire, the harshest tug she’d felt so far. Ayla snarled and squirmed, head twisting to snap at her restraining tentacle.
“She’s here,” her boy said, eyes focused on empty space over the snowfield. Another invisible enemy? Deus ex clusterfuck was more like it. “Fiona’s waiting for Christy.”
“You can hear her?”
“She invited me in, to see her plan.” Dillon pulled her at the shoulder to look at him. “You have to trust me.”
“You’re not the fucking hero, John. Stay put and let the others handle the feds. Don’t make any deals!”
He grimaced. “Too late.”
Another glob of red materialized in the center of their arena. In black ribbons, it pulled the snow towards it as every Dvorak with a head on its shoulders turned to stare. The survivors' mob that had been walking in circles and those attacking the shuttles now paused, ten rows deep. After a shallow boom, Jessica glanced behind to see Shrine stumbling up the catwalk—and saw the two kids floating in opposition to Kati. What the fuck were they doing? She'd warned them—
The mute girl pointed a finger. Hilde screamed. A half-second later, the survivor’s body burst in a spray of blood and bone.
The Dvoraks below raised their chins and opened their mouths. Shrine wailed for her daughter as her hands tensed in open-fingered claws. A dozen black lines swirled from her undead minions to her palms. Sig had already thrown himself at the girl, fists-clenched, blue-green sparkles in his wake. Tracers from the shuttles bent around their barriers, peppering what remained warehouse central in glowing dots.
Fighting gods, as gods. These were devils. Jessica was nothing. Minutes into the battle, this was nothing as she hoped and everything she feared. She could almost hear him whisper, calling out to her, ‘stop running.’
“L-Let’s go. Nicky—we got to run!”
&
nbsp; “Agreed! But we are besieged.”
“Fuck the Dvoraks and the vanners! It’s all cover for us. Christy can’t be that fast, whatever she is.” Jessica pointed out her boy's barrier, only to bang her hand against it, solid as steel. “The fuck? Dillon—”
“Just. Wait.” he said, breathless, glowing gold around his head and shoulders. With black eyes and the ever-moving backdrop, he hardly looked angelic. “Christy!” he shouted, “I’m not leaving Nome, and I’m not leaving Jessie. You should understand. Go home—your brothers are waiting—”
Twin impacts against his barrier reflected as bottle-rockets against brick. The red blob lashed out with a smoky tendril at the source as another flash slammed against the bubble. The dumb bitch wasn’t testing anything but their patience—and maybe that was the point. Ayla and Kahn still squirmed against their tentacles and Jessica’s toes curled. She wanted to go out and fight.
The blob expanded and snaked a dozen crimson arms towards a spot far away from the last attack. Finally, the mist thinned at the center, revealing Fiona, hands on her hips and shoulders tipped back in laughter. “Run, concha, run!”
Twice low and twice high, the smoke wrapped halos around what Jessica imagined were ankles and wrists. From wide rings, they tightened until she heard a snap. The body they surrounded faded into view. Christy kicked and punched as she was lifted three feet airborne. Jessica heard another crack as a wrist fell limp.
“Damn it, don’t hurt her!” Dillon ran forward and took his bubble with, leaving Jessica in a sudden chill. She didn’t know which weapon to grab, so she took them all from Nicky, who retreated, his back to the airdock door.
“You didn’t say anything about this one.” Fiona glanced over her shoulder—snap. Christy grunted as her other hand dropped a dart, it’s shine far brighter than natural. “Call it a muzzle, my prince; it’s necessary. Are we getting out of here, or what?”
Dillon looked to Jessica and nodded. How many times could she be tempted in half an hour? She knew she should run, the feds have already given her two outs, and even the vanners were ready to blaze a trail for Dillon—with his unspoken condition to include their whole group. If she’d felt lucky, any of the three would work, but as it appeared none of them would lead to safety longer than a minute. The feds would likely betray them, the vanners didn’t care about anyone but Dillon, and Jessica's own option for escape would invite an out-in-the-open hunt, not to mention abandoning the seventeen souls Nome had left.
And it was all because of him.
Dillon, Volundr, the Ragnarok’s knot in the tapestry of fate. Without him they could have ran long ago. If she hadn't found him in that cell, there'd have been no Chirsty to break the Rosebed, no Kati and Fiona chasing them down. No Jacob. This would have been over yesterday. Her lover was their anchor.
Sig and Kati twirled skyward amid flares of crimson on aqua. Shrine stood still on the catwalk, a globe of black between her outstretched arms. The federal squad on Sageway finally shattered the survivor's Dvorak buffer-mob only to be enveloped by the snow-coated army behind them. The opposite shuttle fared better as laser-sightings and muzzle-flashes cut a line between them and the warehouse. The Dvoraks nearby beat against the bunker on one side, and approached in cautious dozens towards the other.
Dillon was just a man, but his existence invited this, sustained this, fanning a spark into an inferno. Even now, watching him, he didn’t seem to carry any of it on his shoulders. He didn’t get it. He'd never get it. Jessica didn’t understand it either, but now, for the first time, she recognized it.
As long as Dillon lived, more would die. Eventually, even her.
High above, the aqua outline blinked out. The figure floated down first as a feather, then picked up speed until Sig became a blur, weighed down by some invisible gravity. His body slammed below the horizon, the impact tossing snow, Dvoraks, soldiers and earth upwards in a funnel-shaped spray. The debris wave passed through the arena. Nicky shielded the animals with what little girth he had left. Jessica raised stick and clipper over her face, holding her breath.
She blinked away the dirt and stared at Sig’s ground zero, hoping he had a barrier to protect him. A hulking corpse lifted a dismembered arm, the limb draining bright-red blood. The new Dvorak army split around the shuttle and box, shoving aside their confused peers. Shrine stared at the crater of her daughter’s boyfriend and lowered her arms. Her black globe, summoned from three-dozen now-inert corpses, hovered before her, six-by-six feet, as big any construct the vanners had created for themselves.
Shrine stepped into the air, into the globe. It drifted upward.
“Dillon,” Jessica said, “This isn’t how it was supposed to be.”
“None of this is.” His back was turned; he faced Fiona. “It’s a short compromise. They don’t want me for long. You’ll be safe—”
An elevated chorus of moans overwhelmed his voice. Jessica’s head snapped to the bunker. A blackened, eyeless face peered over the splash shield, teeth bared. Dvoraks from the flare ring, Rose City. Five more joined it in an awkward climb up the hoppers.
Fiona’s eyes narrowed, intent, until one eyebrow raised. “Jacob! Quit fucking around! I don’t need any help!”
The rattling against the bunker stopped.
“Good. You cover Kati.”
A thousand fingers reached into firing holes and the seams between hoppers. At once, they clutched and yanked, swiveling the bunker off the airdock wall. Without call or order, they paused and tensed again, opening the breech to five feet from wall to bunker. Another pair of blackened faces cornered the far edge, scrambling over the torn-down wall.
Fiona glanced between Dillon, the breach, and Jessica. She took to the air. “You called him, didn’t you, bitch? Send him off. He’s going to get you all killed.”
The moment Jessica raised Bunny, he spit fire without her pulling the trigger. Jaw slack, she turned him towards the bunker-climbers, then on to the flankers. Balls of fire enveloped each group whenever she hesitated long enough for a targeting solution. Again, Bunny leapt up and down with his v-symbol and combo-counter rising
“You call them off. They’re yours, right?”
“I’m going to destroy that pendejo.” Fiona clenched both her fists. The Dvoraks climbed over their flaming kinfolk, often taking the flames with them—they didn’t seem to mind.
Jessica twisted to aim Bunny when a voice filled her head, a voice not her own:
Stop Running.
~ 54 ~
Fallen
December 1, 4124 — 8:00 AM
J-Jacob?
The thought wasn’t a question, so much as a fear. Was he coming to claim her? Kill her? If he knew her mind, her dreams, he’d know she wanted to live more than anything. He’d know she was living for him, in his place. He didn’t reply.
Amidst Fiona's anger, the girl's eyes snapped up to Kati. Jessica’s gaze followed.
The Shrine-globe drifted up to the schoolgirl. The dark energy powerhouse had been firing starbursts, violet waves, and ray-beams. All were consumed by the sphere. It grew. Fiona shouted in Spanish—an order to attack, or escape? Kati held steady, hands glowing and raised in fists.
The globe drew close; tendrils reached out for girl’s hands, siphoning their glow. Kati’s mouth opened in a scream as she punched into the black. And became swallowed by it.
“Yes,” Dillon said. He raised a palm to the Dvoraks swarming the bunker. Black wisps snaked from the bodies, slithering over steel and concrete to his fingertips.
“No, don’t!” Jessica shouted. Something felt wrong, or rather, worse. His eyes closed. “You don't know what you're doing!”
Shrine’s globe tripled in size. Purple flares burst out of sunspots as it solidified into a black star. It vibrated, the most hollow of thrums, distorting the air in shimmering waves.
The Sageway shuttle, Carmichael’s, closed its doors and took to the sky. The strange box tethered beneath it held still in the air even as the black star’s en
ergy forced the aircraft into a sway. The gunfire under it intensified—they’d abandon their own men? The pair of shuttles at the backside also lifted off, reversing away from the warehouse. The staccato of firearms at the south retreated with them.
Jessica would feel jubilant if not for the horde surrounding them and the black star’s continual growth. Out the corner of her eye, she saw Christy float down, touching feet to floor, flexing her wrists and fists. Fiona’s lips trembled, her stare set on the sky. Jessica felt speechless, powerless to pick a side, to warn or run. Dillon now grew his own ball from ten sluggish Dvoraks. If he'd made some sort of deal with the girls, then why was he...
“Jake, answer me.”
No reply.
The black star spun quickly, its spots now flaring out in arcs until being drawn back in. It puffed one more time until all motion stopped. It seemed as if the black snow stopped as well, every Dvorak, every bullet pausing in time.
In a roar that pierced as a hundred screams, the sphere imploded. Jessica was pulled off her feet, her face slamming into the floor. It wasn’t energy, but a wind, a gravity. Nicky lashed out with his tentacle, one wrapping her arm above the elbow, another latching onto a warehouse wall support rod. Dillon, Fiona, and mist-bound Christy didn’t budge. From her back, Jessica saw dozens of Dvoraks and soldiers fall up into the vortex. Fire, debris, the warehouse’s contents streamed upwards. From the airdock’s rooftop, one of the black-eyed defenders flew backwards, his bubble popping long before he stretched legs from hips, arms from shoulders, body from head into the singularity. Carmichael’s shuttle tipped at forty-five degrees, but held stock-still via its anchor, the airborne box. Jessica prayed the chains would snap.
Anatali: Ragnarok Page 29
